Chapter Three Hundred Four

Author's Word: Happy Thanksgiving all week long, my fam! Thanks so much for the last round of feedback and everyone's support in general because while this year has been… yeah, this month is taking no prisoners. Hold strong and pray hard, fam, as we do that survival thing we're known for. Please read, review, and eat excessively!

Long legs making their way into the parlor, the body attached to them did a slight double take over the elders in their chess chairs. Though used to seeing them in Jaguar apparel, the two in jeans and t-shirts while in that sophisticated space did not come off as remotely Headmaster-esque to Scott. Charles drank a little white wine and Erik enjoyed only his second beer since the victory celebration began. Unlike a lot of fathers who attended, Erik never downed anything more than soda during a game. He always prioritized keeping his eyes sharp for such events, even school plays featuring Trav as a zoo panda.

"The man of the hour," Erik acknowledged the boy first.

"Scottie," Charles smiled. "You were sensational out there today. Though, I must admit, my heart left my chest when you lost your shades. I'm grateful to Logan for stopping me from interfering."

Ruby quartz glistening from the light fixtures, Scott regarded each man individually. "You knew you were finally right. That I finally loused up, made life miserable for our entire family- like that day in school, right?"

Charles' jovial resolve promptly fizzled out at the accusations. "What?"

Erik took the time to lower his drink before leaving his chair. "Scott Summers," he made a slow stride towards him, "were a word of that true, we would have removed you from this team long ago, particularly after that little "incident" at school. If you have something to say, let's hear it. Without the attitude this time."

Growing sheepish, Scott dipped his chin a moment. "I'm sorry. It's just… for a second there, I was scared, too. I saw trucks lining up to take me and go after you guys next."

Coming over, Charles gently cupped the youth's cheeks. "Is that why you're leaving the team? Because that isn't what we want, not in the slightest."

"It's not that." Scott nestled against the Professor's soothing palms. "For years, I dreamed of making it onto a real baseball team, just like my big brother. And not only did I do it, but I was part of the greatest season of all-time. I did more than I thought possible with baseball and now I'm just ready to go on to the next thing. That's what Frank and the older kids are doing. I want to up my training, especially in the flight simulator. I proved I could play ball without my powers ruining everything. I want to do the same thing as a pilot and X-Man."

A delighted Charles brought him closer to hug and said, "You're off to a phenomenal start there, my Cyclops."

Scott happily leaned on the telepath and soon felt Erik's fingers smoothing through his hair.

II

Posed in front of her full-length mirror while holding a sleeveless peach dress, Samantha practically squealed, "I can't wait to see Grandfather tomorrow."

The pleasure in her daughter's serenity mildly evident on her lovely features, Adrienne reminded, "Be sure to bring your riding outfit he got you."

"Of course," Samantha responded automatically. "I already have it folded away."

Stretched out on Angel's bed with a cuddle ball of Midnight purring at her stomach, Cordelia remarked, "Only you two need to pack a full wardrobe for a day trip."

Helping Brian with his sipping cup, Emma peered up in defense. "I have legitimacy for that now." She gave a tender pull to her baby's sock covered foot. "Even going to the park requires a luggage set with this one."

Comfortable in his mother's grasp, Brian only continued savoring his juice.

Entering the room with waves of displeasure echoing off her petite frame, Angel wanted to know, "Dri, what is going on?"

The woman in question said in turn, "A severe lack of elaboration it would seem."

"I just had a model powwow on the phone," Angel informed. "Have people been trashing my magazine spread?"

"Whoa," Cordelia reacted, popping up and startling Midnight awake, "what are you talking about?"

"People have been writing and going around calling me some kind of traitor to the cause," Angel explained in disgust. "Because I'm going with Ben."

"Is that all?" With an indifferent air, Adrienne stood from the foot of Samantha's bed. "Oh, sweetheart, certain unenlightened members of the public will always have their commentaries. Considering the nightmare of a civil climate we're in, this is not remotely worth getting upset over."

Face of slight bewilderment, Cordelia chimed in with, "Um, how exactly are you a traitor to the cause? Do they even comprehend your cause? You and Ben just made Prom history at our high school."

Emma put forth, "It's the same line of thinking that claims this jewel," she held Brian higher, "to be nothing more than my bait to hook Charles."

Still sipping, Brian peered up at her with tired but fanciful eyes.

II

Somehow spotting the missing article in the massive walk-in, Logan poked his head out of the closet. "You seen my good ski jacket?"

"You'll have to consult your baby bride." Preoccupied at her sewing machine, Kayla recalled, "Last I saw of it, Maya grabbed it to calm Todd."

With a bob of his head, Logan headed off in search of the aforementioned girl. He quickly detected her in her own quarters. Coming into the doorway, Logan found her on her throw rug, seemingly a prisoner of hardback stacks.

"Smiley?"

Raising her head, her eyes proved difficult to view with the mess of long brown hair partially covering them. "Welcome to my chaos."

Developing a smirk, Logan strolled for her. "Baby, far be it from me to break your heart, but you graduated." He squatted to finger comb her hair out of her face. "The time for extra credit has long past."

"Don't even talk to me about time passing. I should've had this done already." Maya gazed around her room indignantly. "I'll never get all of this organized and packed."

Logan's humor faded away to heavier blue eyes. "Ah… right. Just take it easy. We'll get it all straightened out."

Maya folded her arms in a sulk. "I can't even get these books in order."

Noticing one in particular at the top of a stack, Logan picked it up and eyed the cover. "Aw, Alice, really? Now, who's gonna read this to ya up in Syracuse?"

Maya stated with her first show of jest in some time, "I'll have to at last conquer my shameful illiteracy."

"Narnia?" The Veteran raised it next. "Who's gonna do Aslan's voice for ya?"

"My God, I never considered that." Maya inched closer to reach his arms, which he automatically wound around her. "I can organize in my sleep… am I overwhelmed or just stalling?"

Logan offered, "I'd wager stallin' because you're overwhelmed," resting his chin in her hair. "I've had to pack up my life too many times to count. This is all new for you. How 'bout you give that brain a temporary layoff and I snag us some leftover victory cake?"

Maya tapped the book he left on her rug. "And you'll read Aslan?"

"And a crossover with the Cheshire Cat." He started to rise.

Maya watched him stand then pointed out, "Wait, it's your day tomorrow. I'm rusty at this, but I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to do for you."

Spotting his jacket on the back of his desk chair, Logan picked it up as he asked, "You plan on wakin' up tomorrow?"

Looking to consider it, the girl replied, "More or less, the plan."

Logan flung the article her way. "Then, I'm good."

Maya released her best feminine outcry as the jacket landed on and became a hijab on her head.

II

Wings of Gold and Green

Body, Heart, and Spirit Take Flight

Your Wonders I Have Seen
Keeping Me High as a Ki—

The clinking piano keys made as indignant a noise as the intense groan he emitted. Hanging his head, he coursed frustrated fingers through his ginger strands.

"As impossible as it is to believe I'm saying this to you," the man's voice brought Sean's eyes up, "I grade that a red F."

"I know it sounds stupid, okay?" Sean sighed heavily. "High as a kite- sounds like I'm advocating smoking grass. As if my voice isn't already Eeyore on drugs."

With amusement evident, Charles entered the studio in full. "That isn't the reason for the poor mark. You gave up for too quickly. I expect better effort, particularly where you're concerned."

Sean rushed to insist, "I'm not doing poorly on purpose, I swear."

Charles could not help chuckling. "Nice to know you've retained that lesson. Now, come," he tugged on the teenager's arm, "up, up."

Though he arose from the piano bench, Sean still wondered, "Where are we going?"

"To the city," Charles answered as if it should have been so apparent. "There's a triple-feature horror special starting at nine. If we hurry, we can make the first show."

"Are you serious?" Sean gaped. "Don't you have to be up to go to your dad-in-law's in the morning?"

Charles waved that off with, "The old man will leave a candle burning for me, trust me. Now, shall we bust out of here and devour our weight in popcorn?"

With the urge to fly, with or without wings, coursing through his veins, Sean hurried to retrieve his sneakers.

IIIIIII

Quiet settled throughout the grand house shortly after ten with the day's excitement calmed and many young sleepers about. Led by the purposeful blonde, the five proceeded through the second level. Frank kept up with Alex's pace, Becky walked with a hand on Tommy's shoulder, and Leon moved right behind them. When they made it into Alex's room, Leon shut the door without prompting.

"I've been stashing this for Dad's Father's Day, but I want you guys to see it." Going to his closet, Alex started sorting through the items on his shelf. "I had an assignment this semester on lineages. I kept it to myself."

Becky quickly deduced, "You didn't do it on the Summers."

With a single glance, Alex confirmed her words. "This took a ton of research and corresponding with historical societies in Europe, but it paid off." Finding the cardboard box he desired, Alex took a seat on his bed and gestured for the others to come to him. "His wife was Polish, but Jakob Lehnsherr was originally born in Germany." Opening the box, Alex passed out the reading materials within for them to look at. "He fought for them in World War One. In 1916, he saved a major while they were under serious enemy fire. The major commended and awarded him, even calling him a Proud Son of Germany."

An instant scoff left Frank's throat. "Proud Son of Germany? Is that why they let his son get taken away to be tortured and his wife shot while he rotted in an open grave?"

To Tommy's alarmed eyes, Alex admonished, "Frank."

The city native whispered, "Sorry, just…"

Leon touched a hand to his back. "We know."

"I found this, too." Alex revealed and handed the old photograph to Becky. "His regiment. It's hard to see, but their names are in order at the bottom."

Without having to read it, Becky pinpointed the soldier on the far right. "… Grandpa Jake."

The males gathered at her part of the bed for viewing.

"That's him alright," Frank determined with a wide grin. "Check how tall he is next to these guys. He's built like Dad, too."

At the sheen turned droplets leaving Becky's pupils, Leon sent his arm around her. "Hey, Pretty Eyes."

Frank held her from behind and urged, "Don't cry, sis. It's okay."

A formerly voiceless Tommy faced Alex. "How come you're showing me all this?"

Placing a hand on his head, Alex looked him in the eye. "You know why. You've known since spring break."

"I was slow on that one, too," Frank confessed. "Becky was leagues ahead."

When Becky crawled to Alex, Tommy went to place his head in Leon's lap. He felt Frank's hand on his back.

Alex tucked Becky under his arm and spoke gravely. "For now, this stays between us and Dad. Scott doesn't need to know about my assignment." He turned attention to Frank. "Can you handle that?"

The brunette teen nodded. "It's better that way."

"Babes?" Alex addressed their sister next. "Is that too weird for you? I don't want to put you on the spot."

"No, I understand." Becky used her thumb to rid her cheeks of trace moisture. "And I told Scott before, you're my brother. He's not."

Alex smooched the top of her curls. "I've already made a couple copies." He touched the photograph she still held. "You hang onto the original."

A small smile came to Becky's face. "I will."

His features streaming with exhilaration, Frank continued leafing through the research.

IIIIIII

Though well aware that their Howlett-Creed security duo must have detected them already, the two still crept into their dwelling. They maneuvered with the stealth of professional cartoon burglars. They lacked the foresight of eye masks, but also the idiocy to carry dollar sign bags. Once up the stairs, they made it to Sean's door first. He and Charles parted with a strong hug.

Before going to the master suite, the male telepath conducted his rounds. His true stealth materialized when he checked in on the youthful minds that filled his old home without jarring their sleep. Charles finished with the area closest to his own room. As soon as he stepped into the nursery, the small Xavier cooed and pulled on the crib bars to upright himself. Charles softly shushed him. He picked him along with Dickon up into a locked hold and carried him out and over to his suite.

Enjoy the cinema, Sugar?

It surprised him not in the least to hear his wife's voice echo in his mind. Considering the massacres of innocent villages and sorority girls, they were rather tasteful for independent pictures.

Emma switched on her night lamp and accepted Brian from him. Did you have fun with your big boy?

Seanie's endless critical remarks, three tubs of popcorn, six candy bars, two packages of gummy bears, and thirty-two ounce sodas for all of three bathroom stalls? Charles made the change from day clothes to summer pajamas as he rattled off the details. He turned to Emma with a wide, boyish smile. We had a brilliant time! He slipped into bed with them. Groovy to the highest caliber, love!

Emma caressed his jaw. I'm glad you enjoyed yourselves.

I'm sorry we were out so late. Spontaneity got the better of me.

How fortunate you are that it's Father's Day weekend. Emma turned the light off.

Gnawing on his teddy bear's ear, Brian fell back to sleep between his parents.

IIIIIII

"Al, Al! Hurry up, quick!"

At the beseech via communicator, the older blonde did not slow down until he reached the younger one's quarters. "Joe, what's wrong?" Alex went straight to his bedside. "Did you have a bad dream? Did your powers go off?"

The tucked-in child shook his head. "Nope. I just wanted to make sure I saw you before we go to Grandpa's."

"Why didn't you just come to my room?"

Joey's eyes darted about guiltily. "My bed feels too good…"

An exasperated Alex uttered, "You little…" He retaliated by tickling his sides through the blanket. "Ought to give you something that feels not so good. You can't add years to my life and then subtract them like that."

Joey's giggling filled the room. "You know I stink at math. Al!" He let off a howl when Alex got under his armpits. "Come on, you used to wake me up early all the time! Remember?"

"Best times of my life?" Alex stopped to touch noses with him. "Vaguely. Still," he withdrew to give him a look, "should make you run a few dozen laps with us…"

Sitting up, Joey latched onto him. "Happy Father's Day, big brother."

Holding him in turn, Alex stayed quiet for a few seconds. "… Thanks, baby brother. So lucky you're still cute. Have fun at your grandpa's." He stood from the bed with a thump to the boy's stomach. "Be good."

Joey nodded his compliance before flopping against his linens for additional rest.

II

Beneath the awakening sky, the sunlight shined on the cross-legged, shirtless pair. Hands pressed to their knees, their eyes remained shut while they worked every other sense. On the plush pad between them laid the two with presently green-grey eyes brimming with fascination. The sudden presence of the fluttering blue-winged creature seized Mira's attention. Rolling onto her stomach, she attempted to scuttle after it. The move earned her a pointed growl from her father. Startled, she returned to the spot beside her brother.

Across the way at one of the patio tables, Kayla reacted to her refilled iced tea. "Thank you, sweetie."

Placing the pitcher down, Maya kept watching the ritual. "Is that blindness procedure? I know Wolverine does that with Scott and Frank sometimes."

"It's two-part," Kayla explained, husband and small children in her sights. "Logan and Victor did the same as soon as Cody learned to crawl. They want to help the twins through every stage of their developing genes, even the smallest step. They have to learn to distinguish wordless commands. This aides Logan as well. To ensure he's able to detect every twitch and change of breathing they give off, be it in the darkest room or while he's in deep slumber."

Maya looked on positively.

Cracking one eyelid, Cody petitioned, "Dad, Dad, see Mimi?" Letting the sun shine against his blue irises, Logan faced the indicated direction. "She's tryin' to track. Don't ya see? She's like us."

At his daughter's captivation with the flying one, Logan reported mildly grimly, "It's the beauty and color that's got her stirred, Cat." Extending his right pointer finger, the butterfly flapped his way and made a perch of his digit. "Not the scent."

Cody suggested insistently, "Maybe her sight is getting stronger first. Like our smell. Her ears are good, too. Ain't ya seen her when Sean or Erik play piano?"

"Maybe," Logan responded noncommittally. Mira came to him and he used his free hand to grasp hers. "He's a blue morpho, Faithie. One of the biggest, prettiest butterflies in all the world."

"Blue!" Mira pointed giddily.

Cody laughed and lowered to join Todd in nosing the freshly cut grass.

II

While attempting culinary artwork at the stovetop, Frank had to perform periodic jazz steps to dance around his rushing sister. When she gently shooed him out of the way, she removed yet another tray of delightful desserts. Tommy appeared ready to float about the kitchen, charged by the various aromas of peanut butter, oatmeal raisin, M&Ms, caramel, and chocolate chip. He sat at the island, stirring the contents of a mixing bowl for the next batch of cookies.

"You just had to pick today to give Keebler a run for their money, didn't you?" Frank remarked.

Becky bumped hips with him as she retrieved another container for the baked goods. "I wanted them done in time for today, but I don't know what time is anymore. I've been so busy with Jaguar stuff. And I didn't want to stay up to all hours baking."

"It's worth a try," said Frank with a building cheeky expression. "So long as you keep from snoozing…"

Becky came to a sharp halt to throw an oven mitt at him. "You fell asleep, too, oh great King of the Kitchen. And me and Joey were only eight and ten."

"Wait, Joey told me about this one," Tommy remembered. "Didn't you guys almost burn the house down?"

"Just the kitchen," Frank promptly corrected. "But that wasn't the scary part. We almost got our butts burnt to a crisp by Dad. Becky got us out of that one. Perks of having a girl in the family."

Tommy smiled along with Becky and recalled, "I thought Erik was gonna annihilate me that day I took off on Cody's bike. Erik's mad face… I was waiting for lightning to strike behind him."

"Just do yourself a favor and don't forget what I said about helmets," Frank reiterated.

"And trying to jump a fleet of cars," Becky not-so-casually mentioned.

Frank eyed her dryly and Tommy's intrigue somehow amplified.

IIIIIII

Ambition made its full sovereignty known to the three charging X-Men. The morning laps around the mansion only acted as the starting point for what grew into multiple miles throughout the wooded area. Erik stayed a marginal distance behind the younger pair. He could have remained in the center or taken the lead altogether, but the angle aided the focus he maintained on his sons. Leon's countenance reflected someone far away, but not lost from them. Every muscle on Alex's body forged onward with willful fortitude. Erik's satisfaction came from the muscle in the blonde chest's performing likewise.

When the need to replenish outranked their masculine grit, they slowed down until they reached the river. Using a boulder as a chair, Erik only gripped his water bottle. Not until he received confirmation that both the youths had enough to drink from their own containers did he relieve his own thirst. Leon knelt nearest to the stream, eying his reflection. He took down his ponytail and finger combed the strands. Erik found adorability in how even drenched in sweat, Leon's hair remained a consistent flow of ebony excellence. In a surge of impishness, Alex attempted to startle a nearby flock of pigeons. When they took to the sky directly above his head, he dropped into a ducking position until possible poop retaliation flew on by. Erik delighted more in Leon's resulting expression. The younger boy hick appeared unsure of whether to find jest in it or take mental note on the Greatness' clever defense procedure.

Taking another drink, Erik put forth, "Eager for your eighteenth birthday?"

Alex looked to the man to correct, "Twenty-first, Dad. Two-one."

"Yes," Erik smirked. "How could I forget?"

Leon received word from his smaller female telepath of choice. "We're needed at the Watchtower." At their blank reactions, he stated, "I need Frank," and up-righted himself.

Sharing a fond gaze over Leon clearly deeming them uncultured swine, Erik and Alex followed his path.

Before they fully approached the house, all three stepped back at Becky's intangible image appearing in the air before them.

"Halt," the illusion ordered. "Wash up and put on comfortable clothes that don't smell like a landfill before you set foot in the kitchen. Twenty minutes." She faded with that.

Alex raised an eyebrow. "I swear that kid's a combo of you and Charles, Dad."

"So, Aunt Emma," Leon concluded.

With a low chuckle, Erik spread his arms to ruffle the hair on both their heads. "Upstairs, boychicks."

The three proceeded inside.

On the second floor, each discovered a cookie tin with note attached. Leon went into such a daze over his, he rushed through showering and shampooing. With a towel wrapped around his dripping hair, he dressed in WU track pants and a black X t-shirt.

In the kitchen, the six met with all of them in some combination of red and black. Becky acted as the only exception, opting for deep purple instead of black, but still as sporty as the rest. Cheddar potato cakes, a platter of lox covered in diced tomato and onion, fruit salad, and bagels covered the island. Before Becky could voice it, Erik proved to be the mind-reader in that instance as he directed them all to link up. Leon felt the squeeze when Tommy gripped his hand and he reciprocated with a tender tug of the child's wrist. Their heads bowed next and Erik filled their ears with Hebrew.

Once the grace concluded, Becky piped up apologetically, "Frank had to do everything. I didn't have time to make Grandma's apple cake."

Erik shook his head in good humor, reaching to touch her cheek. "You are your grandmother's kindred spirit. She mandated perfection for every holiday feast. Not even you can carry the entirety of Father's Day on your back, ladybug."

Becky smiled and pecked his palm.

"Not bad, Frankenstein," Alex commented after they all had filled plates.

"Dad and Lee helped a lot," Frank said mischievously. "Keeping you at least twelve to twenty feet away from the kitchen."

At their resulting poking, Erik proclaimed, "Fingers are for lifting forks," getting them both to resume eating. Erik faced Tommy to inquire, "Did Seanie decide to go to Boston with Charles?"

Placing his glass of orange juice down, Tommy shook his head. "He was snoozing half off the bed when I went in there to get dressed. Mama Emma said he and the Prof were late coming in from the movies. Midnight monster fest- Sean gets to do all the cool stuff."

"Tell me about it," Frank sympathized. "But if you want real coolness, you better stick with us today."

Tommy shrugged glibly. "Guess I got time for you."

Erik stated, "Good thing." He raised his coffee mug to his lips. "Now, I don't have to toss you into that burlap sack."

Tommy responded to that with a toothy grin.

All eyes floated over to Leon as he poured his second refill of the caffeinated brew. After adding his preferred cream and sugar ratio, he enjoyed an extended sip before noticing their faces.

Alex stated, "Man, you have a problem."

Leon came back with, "Several, actually," and returned to his warm beverage.

II

When he finally managed to steal the receiver away from his wife and children, Hank sat on the side of the bed to talk into it. "You know what I woke up thinking about? Kite Day." He loaded the first-aid kit as he recollected. "I'll never be over it. While every other kid showed up with oh-so-original diamond and boxed kites, Dad and I sent a UFO into orbit. We almost blocked out the sun."

"And you were only Trav's age," Edna recalled. "But I knew before the picnic even began that you two would walk away with first-place."

"Do you still have that kite?"

Something resembling an eyeroll could be heard in Edna's voice. "Honestly, Henry?"

"Right, right, forgot who I was talking to for a moment." Glancing up, Hank saw Kiki in the playroom's doorway and held an arm out for her. "We need to get going. But seriously Mom," he hoisted Kiki to sit on his right thigh, "thanks for checking in. I love you."

"Always, son." Edna then returned, "I love you, too."

After they hung up, Hank adjusted his daughter's glittery pink helmet. "Are you going to wear this all the way to park?" Kiki nodded eagerly. "Why doesn't that surprise me?"

Both fully roller-skating geared, Raven came in with Trav on her hip and declared, "We're outta here, Mighty McCoys."

"That we are." Standing with Kiki, Hank handed her the first-aid case. "Safeguard the boo-boo survival kit, Baby Bear."

As if given a cash filled briefcase, the girl clutched it to her chest protectively.

IIIIIII

Of the many reasons he possessed gratitude for his married life, Charles gained another in Emma taking the wheel of the X-Van while he dozed off next to her. Due to the active minds of their little boys behind them, he could not enter a deep sleep, but appreciated it nonetheless. Right with them, Adrienne drove Cordelia's car. Samantha took the passenger's seat, giving Angel and Cordelia the back for conversations ranging from whispers to giggles.

Boston as well as the Frost Estate came into view shortly before noon. At the three who awaited them, Cordelia tore from her car. It amused but surprised no one when she and Nate raced for each other like twins separated at birth. Once proper greetings subsided, the travelers went inside to freshen up and get into swim attire. Despite her primary residency at the Xavier mansion, Samantha still spun in awe over the Frost house's grand interior.

After they all regrouped in the backyard, Winston held onto Brian while the other young vessels gathered near him like a king's court. He very quickly found himself showered by gifts from each of them. Joey made sure to give him the blue and pink handprints from Kiki and Trav as well.

Raising the vintage champagne acquired by Adrienne, Winston decreed, "Tonight, we toast."

"Guess that leaves the hard stuff for us." Chris looked around at the minors present. "I'm thinking chocolate milk on the rocks. Who's with me?"

While of course the younger ones agreed, Angel piped up, "Sounds good to me."

Opening a box from Samantha, Winston uncovered the brown velvet jacket trimmed with honey-gold. "Sweet child," he gave Brian to Emma so he could lift it by the lapels, "did you pick this out yourself?"

Samantha nodded with an uncertain smile. "I paid for it, too. Is it okay? I don't think you have to smoke in it. Do you smoke?"

"I used to," Winston replied wistfully. "With your grandmother- on occasion."

Nate looked on in puzzlement when Adrienne, Chris, Emma, and Cordelia abruptly turned their heads to maintain straight faces.

Slightly glowering at his DNA, Winston sent an arm around the blonde lass. "Thank you, gem stone."

Samantha's countenance illuminated radiantly.

When the staff carted out lunch, they ate around a lawn table. While Angel consistently loved the general atmosphere of the Frost estate, even finding a special comfort in it, chefs and maids all about still proved daunting. She made sure to voice thanks to the servers. The teenagers ate surprisingly lightly. The adults received the reason why when after being allowed to leave the table, they each performed dives into the pool. Emma finished feeding Brian and carried him inside for a nap. The housekeeper came through with impeccable speed to clear the table.

In side by side deck chairs, Winston and Joey worked in their sketchbooks.

At his grandson so enthralled, Winston attempted to peer over. "What exactly are you working on?"

Joey pressed the page to his front. "No peeking, Grandpa. It's not right yet."

Returning to his own book, Winston remarked, "Michelangelo's protégé," to the boy's instant contentment. The elder's notice then went to Charles, who rubbed his temples far more than usual. "Migraine coming on?" Winston knew that struggle well. "You should lie down."

"No, no, it isn't pain," Charles reassured his father-in-law. "I didn't get to sleep until after three."

Winston let off a light sigh. "You lads." He laid a hand across Charles' forehead and the younger man relaxed under the touch. When Chris came by their chairs, Winston indicated him with his head. "He falls asleep at the desk more often than in his own bed. Spoiling that little night owl," he looked to Nate, currently teamed up with Samantha in a splash war against Angel and Cordelia, "with that toxic waste from the Golden Arches."

Chris only wondered, "Is that commendation or criticism? Not the easiest to differentiate with you, Daddy."

Winston stated, "It is as I've said it."

Body lathered in sunscreen, Adrienne reclined in her chair as she put forth, "Standard cryptic senility."

Winston sent her a look, despite her facing the pool. "Droll as ever, my firstborn thorn."

When Nate motioned for him to come into the water, Joey closed his sketchpad and approached the taller blonde. "Don't let anybody see inside, Uncle Chris." He transferred the book over to him. "Dad might show Grandpa."

Charles opened his resting eyes. "What? Little one, do you honestly believe Daddy would betray your confidence?"

Chris smirked, "You are the old man's pet after all. Though we all know who the real tattler is, eh, Dri?"

Adrienne dismissed him with, "Do stick your head in the dogs' manure, little bro."

"Son, go on to the other children." Charles gave his bottom a soft prodding pat. "Where it's more mature."

Quickly taking heed, it took effort for Joey to hasten to the pool without running. With arms out, he walked out to the edge of the diving board. Jumping off, he landed in Nate's waiting arms.

IIIIIII

Rematerializing, Leon crouched beside Alex. They swapped a glance and Alex looked ahead again while rubbing his palms together. He released the smallest dose of plasma energy he could. When no outcries he resulted, he and Leon took the cue to rush out to the clearing. When they made it to the center, they had to come to an abrupt halt. Frank and Becky appeared before them in a multiple of twenty.

"You okay, guys?" Frank's voice taunted. "Better get your eyes checked- on the double."

The older two ducked before the boy's blinding light could reach them.

"Geez." Alex gazed around in bewilderment. "Wall-to-wall shrimptoids."
"Pretty Eyes is getting good," Leon admitted.

"Haven't I taught you anything?" They looked up to where Erik floated in the air. "If you want to distinguish illusion from reality, aim for the heart of the matter."

At Erik flying their way like sharpened arrow of precision, the other clones faded. Their cover blown, the authentic Becky and Frank attempted to back up. They turn around to see Leon reappear behind them. Erik, Leon, and Alex then reacted to a multitude of leaves and sticks pouring down upon them.

Alex called up to the boy standing on a branch, "Think you're hot, monkey boy?"

"Sizzlin'," Tommy replied matter-of-factly. He startled them all with a jump, only to snag a branch some distance from him. He used it to do an aerial somersault before rocketing for another. The next limb, however, snapped on contact. "Whoa!"

"Tom!" Erik flew straight up to catch the child before the ground did so less gently. "You have to be careful if you're going to play in trees. You have to be certain—" He noticed the Irish lad's attention on the piece of branch he stilled gripped. "Are you listening to me, Thomas?"

"Huh?" Tommy blinked and amended, "Oh- yes, sir. Sorry. I thought I had it."

Alex asserted, "You were stylin' up there with a couple of those moves, little man."

Tommy formed a bigger smile, accompanied by a laugh at Erik giving him a little tickle.

Erik proposed, "What say we play Peter Pan and the Lost," he made sure to account for Becky's presence, "Imps?"

A highly interested Tommy wanted to know, "How do you play Peter Pan?"

Erik brought him to sit on top of his shoulders. He closed his eyes to savor the metal and traces of electricity contained in his atmosphere. His magnetic sphere formed all around them, letting Erik carry them all off into the air.

Gazing about with Alex, Leon put forth, "Who needs Tinkerbell?"

Becky wiggled her fingers and created a burst of glittering pixie dust.

Frank playfully accused, "Showoff," and grabbed her at the waist to make her squeal.

IIIIIII

Sending his hand through the smooth fur coat, Joey looked into the heavy brown eyes. "Uncle Chris, why's Courage so sad?"

"He isn't sad." Chris retrieved what he needed from his closet. "Not with you around. Those old legs just don't have the stamina they used to. Take away his friendliness and tolerance for me and he's your grandfather." He smiled at Joey's laughter and took to one knee. "Watch this." He activated his gadget.

Joey beamed over the transparent protection. "Whoa!" He leaned in with finger pointed then peered at his uncle.

"Go ahead," Chris encouraged. "It won't bite you. Not until I install the razor-sharp fangs that is."

Smiling, Joey tapped then knocked on it. "Ohhh, cool… it's just like a real shield."

"Yes and my faithful intern found my oversight to perfect it. Give it a few zaps."

Fingers prepped, Joey delivered his electricity through the tips and watched as the shield only absorbed it. "Wow, wish I had one of these when I got my powers."

"Perish that thought to the depths of he- Havana," Chris commanded glibly. "Without your unique sparkles," he messed the boy's hair a little, "I wouldn't have been able to design what we need for the cause." He turned off the shield and stared at his device. "I tell you," as he spoke, Joey slid of the bed, made curious by the man's cluttered desk, "with your aunt coming home for school, the Cour—" He and Courage jerked their heads up at the same time over the clatter.

A sheepish Joey stood by a clump of circuits on the floor. "Sorry, Uncle Chris. I barely touched it."

"Joey, you have to be careful." Chris went to him. "Some of these things are still in the volatile stage." He picked Joey up to seat him in the desk chair. "Sit here."

While the older male began collecting the broken bits, Joey asked, "For how long?"

"Hm?" a distracted Chris responded.

"How long do I have to sit here?" Joey clarified. "I usually have to stand in the corner at home. It's boring, but it's way better than timeout in my room."

Comprehending, Chris released a good-natured breath. "Oh, Sprite, they really do have you trained in Westchester, don't they?" He propelled the chair into a spin and Joey held onto the armrests. "Well, not here with me. And corner time?" He shook his head the seeming absurdity as he stood to place the bits in a bin. "Timeouts are for little babies." He played in Joey's hair again. "Not big, power-packed sprites like you. Now, wait until you see what else you've inspired."

As his uncle went scouting for another of his mini machines, Joey's feeble smile faded entirely. Crossing his arms, he drooped in his seat.

II

Adorned in her pink and white ensemble, the yellow-haired girl used a palm brush on the mighty steed's mane. After some rummaging through the barn, Winston, also in riding attire, walked back over with the assortment of leather.

He attached the requested seat to the animal. "There you are, my dear."

"Thank you, Grandpa," Samantha replied gleefully, needing but a moment's time to climb and situate herself on the sidesaddle.

"Anything for a lady."

She watched him slide his scepter into a waist accessory that resembled a sword's scabbard. "You're leading the royal army."

"Incognito," Winston said furtively. He mounted Valiant and took note of her nonchalant posture as she caressed her horse. "Look at you." She faced him. "You're becoming a true horsewoman." He started them out of the barn. "How is your Hazelnut treating you?"

"She's the greatest present in the world, Grandfather," Samantha answer easily. "We've gotten into higher jumps. Mother says we should try beginner's competition, but Hazelnut and I don't want to. All those people looking at her; touching her."

Experiencing a brief spell of déjà vu, Winston mentioned, "Your mother does have a certain mastery over competition."

"Really?" Samantha formed a puzzled expression. "I never noticed that about her. She was cool as a cucumber on Prom night."

Winston went into a hearty guffaw at. "Queen Elizabeth herself would've been swept away by such fanfare."

They continued on, eventually maneuvering the horses along a higher slope on the land. The rise in elevation offered a better view of the lavish property.

"Oh, Grandfather," Samantha's brown eyes brightened as she spoke, "Uncle Charles' house is beautiful, but I can't get over your estate. Gorgeous…"

"Yes," Winston concurred with a certain degree of fanciful himself, "I still have those moments when I have to remind myself this is all mine." He placed his gaze on her. "And yours." Samantha looked at him in turn, genuine bewilderment present. "This is your home. One of many, yes, but no less than the others. The same for your cousins, no matter how long you've been away. Your Uncle Chris and Aunt Emma can confirm that much for you." He watched her glee dissipate all too rapidly. "I didn't mean to overwhelm you, darling."

"No, Grandpa," Samantha urgently reassured. "It isn't you. I love being here with you. I was just thinking about Victor."

Winston revealed nothing in his tone as he recollected, "You mother told me he's with some of his ballplayers."

"He takes out the ones who don't have their dads anymore," Samantha explained. "It's great, but sometimes it feels like he's all about Scott and the boys. I wish we were like Uncle Logan and Maya. He built a whole car for her and you should see the house he rented for them."

Winston deduced, "You feel like the stepsister next to her Cinderella treatment?"

"No, nothing that bad. I just wish Victor and I could be special like that, too."

"What you're saying sounds all too familiar. Especially in this family," Winston divulged. "You see, dear, it may seem as if Victor has a preference, but that isn't what's happening at all." Her attention thoroughly captured, he continued. "Mothers are expected to groom their daughters into proper young women. However, fathers have the greater challenge where sons are concerned. Victor knows the all too likelihood that those boys will go astray without a fatherly presence. It takes more than I can describe to mold a boy into a man. So, while you may feel left out at times, you should consider the possibility that Victor simply has faith in you."

Samantha appeared thoughtful. "Do you really think so?"

"I do, but it is a best to hear it from the horse's mouth." Winston patted the side of Valliant's neck. "So to speak." Samantha aglow again, they used the reins to get the steeds to press onward. "Your Midnight is doing well?"

Samantha nodded. "I wanted to bring him, but I wasn't sure with the dogs."

"Speaking of which, what's that other pet of yours…?" Winston looked as if he remembered so suddenly. "How is your friend, Collin?"

The girl displayed faux ire while attempting not to smile.

II

Positioned by the edge of a second level terrace, Nate took in the riding pair picking up speed across the greenery below.

"As I predicted." Nate peered back at the radiant redhead who approached to join his viewing point. "I knew that man wouldn't allow a visit to go by without a jaunt on those beasts. Can you imagine a former resident of urban decay so enthralled by horseflesh?"

Nate smirked as he reminisced, "Where I'm from, any time I see a city dweller within ten feet of a horse, they always look like they're wondering which end to stick the ignition key into."

Adrienne threw out, "More plausible than trying to find a parking spot in San Francisco."

With a light laugh, he kept gazing at the ground level Frosts. "Cor told me about his riding accident. Eight-week recovery for his leg became six. Back in the saddle by the seventh despite everyone's wishes."

"Father's become quite numb to setbacks. I was conducting business in Milan for most of that time," Adrienne maneuvered to sit on the edge of the balcony, "but Cordy did what she could to help him back on his feet."

"I know what that's like," Nate put forth. "When Dad was sick, Mum and I were in constant tag-team rotation to see to his care."

Adrienne asked, "How old were you when he passed?"

Nate looked at her as he answered, "Ten."

She deemed, "Too young to bear a burden that great."

"Maybe," Nate spoke in an even tone. "But Dad was definitely too young to die. It even shocked his doctors."

Extending her hand for his wrist, Adrienne inched him closer for improved eye contact. "Even with our best laid plans, life has this inane tendency to derail in ways we can never predict. Often to devastating proportions. However," her pupils appeared to sizzle with fervor as she went on, "of the options we have remaining, self-pity is not among them. Wallowing over that which we cannot change is utterly wasteful." Nate nodded his agreement, continuing to listen. "And it takes nothing but a glance outside the window to remember our situation could be infinitely worse."

"For sure," Nate strongly seconded. "I only hate what became of my family's property because of the medical bills. Mostly for Dad's sake, losing all that he and Mum worked for."

The woman's lips curved into a curious smile. "Oh, sweet boy, you may not believe this, but your parents haven't lost a thing." At his expected bewilderment, Adrienne elaborated, "You are far more valuable than any simple possession they once owned. Not by virtue of being their child, but in who you are."

Clear impression resulting, Nate questioned, "Is that really what you think?"

"If I thought any differently, you would have heard it Day One," Adrienne answered matter-of-factly. "And in further honesty, I know from where Father's adoration for Charles stems. His father dying when he was only a little boy, his fool mother's marriage to that philanderer, caring for his sister on his own while their mother resided at the bottom of a bottle, mastering his own power and taking in his own mutants."

Nate proudly stated, "Charles is a legend well beyond Oxford."

"As are you," Adrienne informed him. "All too like our mother, Chris, Emma, and Cordy have allowed their emotions to stumble or stunt their growth altogether in the past. Then there are the rest of us; Charles, you, and I. It goes against our very design to do anything but forge ahead."

"Like Father?"

Adrienne could not help enjoying his soft but elated tone. "Like Father. It's as I said before. For all they suffered through, you are their greatest gain, whether you think that's true or not."

Nate came back with, "I think your words are as beautiful as you are, Big Sis."

Adrienne cupped his chin tenderly before they resumed observing the merriment of below. Atop their purebred steeds, a race currently took place between grandfather and granddaughter.

IIIIIIII

With the last of his mini Jaguar troop returned to his proper dwelling, Victor rejoined his one live-in player. In the passenger seat of the Hudson Hornet, Scott flipped through one of his many issues from Detective Comics. Getting the sedan started, Victor got a good look at the book's cover. It depicted Robin lassoing a flying witch in order to free Batman from some sort of magical glowing spell. The only part of the artwork Victor found truly ludicrous had to do with the Dark Knight dressed in stealth colors while his far more vulnerable sidekick masqueraded as a walking Christmas tree.

After putting the car into drive, Victor scanned every mirror as he asked, "Have fun today?"

"Yeah." Scott went to the next page. "That eleventh-inning was phenomenal."

"Think the guys are still more impressed by that fancy footwork of yours yesterday." Victor then brought up, "Didn't tell 'em the news, huh?"

Scott shook his head. "Nope. I don't feel like going into it right now and besides, I'm not trying to dampen our win. And Father's Day is pretty important. For the guys."

From there, wordless reading and road watching dominated the remainder of the fifteen-minute ride to their homestead. They entered the lowest region of the mansion via the electronic exterior access. As soon as Victor eased the hornet into its normal space in the garage, Scott detached from the car first. Leaning over the hood, he stretched each of his long legs. He understood more than ever Sean's frequent grievances over the aggravating stiffness caused by lengthy rides. Scott saw Victor hardly do more than literally shake a leg, leaving Scott to deduce that the elder mutant had more experience dealing with such ultimately unimportant discomforts.

On the way upstairs, Scott felt Victor's hand in his hair before being veered and lightly prodded towards the security room. Taking a seat in the older male's swivel chair, Scott awaited the explanation behind the abrupt turn in direction.

"What's the problem, Shades?" Victor asked off-the-cuff.

"Uh, I was sort of hoping you knew." Scott reminded somewhat audaciously. "You're the one who herded me in here like cattle."

Victor's expression remained mainly even, but his displeasure emitted. "You go from barely talkin' to me today to givin' me lip?"

"I'm sorry," Scott apologized for the latter. For the rest he reasoned, "Spending today with you meant a lot to Brody and the guys. Main reason I didn't bring up retiring. I barely brought up anything." He released a dry exhale. "Kinda shocked you noticed."

Kneeling, Victor clamped hands down on the arms of the chair, keeping boy in place and their eyes level. "Honesty's your policy kid. Now, give it to me straight about what's really goin' on in that head of yours."

Scott came back with a question of his own. "Is this it? Baseball was most of our relationship, but when you told me how you really felt back in Delaware, I actually believed there was something legit here. Then I saw you with the other kids today. I'm just another one of your players you keep tabs on." A faint, dry breath left the back of Scott's throat. "And now, I'm not."

Victor followed his words with an entirely attentive countenance. "You think what I said in Delaware is a cheap line I feed all my players." One head bob acted as Scott's admittance. "While we're bein' honest, you're right to think that. Not because it's true- farthest thing from it- but because you don't have a whole lot of reason not to. I have some extra years and a whole other mutation on you, but you and me ain't that far apart. We handle our business, do our best for our people, but we can't stop watching our backs. That's why you have to know, what I told you that day? Never once said it to anybody else on the team or any boys I've met and helped before. I've had strokes, heart attacks, been shot more times than there are bullets in this country, almost drowned, almost been burned to death, almost froze to death, but Delaware? That was harder than anything else."

"Why?" Scott wondered in puzzlement.

Victor raised a hand to caress near the boy's hairline. "Because I'd rather take bullets, water, ice, and go through the fire again than hurt you even once."

Taking that in for its entirety, Scott suggested vehemently, "I can stop you before you get the chance. You and Logan have clocked more hours than I know training us to go up against mutants like Edge Pack. I don't remember a session called Victim 101."

Victor could not and did not bother masking the satisfaction he experienced at the youth's response. "You'd have flunked right out."

Scott's features softened. "I just- I need to know that hanging up the bat and ball doesn't mean you stop being my dad."

The seasoned elder stated, "We're stuck, suck it up."

"Cool." Scott launched his hand and Victor met him in a blithe slap of palms.

IIIIIII

The Peter Pan platoon appeared lost only in their own rapture in the center of their green surroundings. Becky rained glitter effects from the sky and transformed the males' branches into swords. From his floating viewpoint, Erik appreciated that even in play, the boys still conducted themselves like battle-ready operatives. Leon and Frank remained back to back with weapons clutched. While he let Tommy stand at his side, Alex still instinctively sent out an arm every so often to block any attack or ricochet from effecting his significantly smaller comrade. Tommy did not complain, usually too wrapped up in charging blades with Frank. Leon mesmerized him most with his stylish kicks and jumps while maintaining an unreadable gaze.

Jaw dropping, Tommy raised his head in sheer astonishment. Initially believing him trying to distract him, Frank glanced over his shoulder briefly then did a full turn. Alex dashed forward to get in front of them all. Leon stood in intrigue at the formation of trees meshing together into a wooden giant.

While pleased by his daughter's mental ingenuity, Erik still reproached, "Rebecca, stop this. You know this is going too far."

Becky flashed him a bright smile. "It's a projection, Papa, not an illusion. We're the only ones who can see it."

Further impressed, Erik commented, "You're advancing in control every day, Sweet Imp. Though, I believe we need to put more attention into your offense."

With battle cries, some drier than other others, went at the enormous creature. When they made it close enough to literally penetrate the belly of the beast, the sought-after belly as well as the rest of the giant's body faded before them.

Becky looked around at them apologetically. "I guess I'm a little worn out."

Landing, Erik gathered her into his sturdy arms. "Which is why your Uncle Charles cautions you to take it easy on the grand-scaling." He joined nose tips with her. "Hm?"

"Mum," Becky nodded admittingly.

"I think we've had enough chaos." Erik added with a glint in his eyes, "For today that this." He began leading them in the direction of their massive home.

While the others lowered their "swords", Tommy lingered staring at his in his hand.

"Tommy," Alex's voice caught his eyes, "what'd Dad just say?"

"Sorry." With a final look at it, Tommy dropped the fragment of wood.

Running over, he caught up with Leon who kept an expectant hand out for him.

Inside, while they all made a direct path for the Mag Cave, Alex tossed over his shoulder, "Be right back," on route for the stairs.

As soon as Leon and Frank sat on the sofa, Tommy wasted no time making a couch out of them. He relaxed his head in Leon's lap and dangled his feet over Frank's. The latter only rolled his eyes in faux annoyance while the former applied a thump to the little boy's stomach. Tommy wriggled in place and with his expanding smile, Leon felt an inward lightening. Erik settled behind his desk with Becky reclining against him. Reaching inside a drawer, the man started handing out wrapped chocolates.

"Just in time," said Erik when Alex walked in. He smirked at the box the young instructor carried. "Packing up the Hovel? Since when do you need to go through such extremes to visit home?" When the seriousness remained present on the blonde's face, Erik's tone laced with concern matched it. "Boychick?"

Tommy up-righted himself between Frank and Leon. Becky sat up straighter as well.

"I was given an ancestry assignment a couple months ago." Alex lowered the box to the front of the desk. "We were supposed to go as far back as we could, linking the oldest ancestor we could find to where we are now and how, even if we never met them, they helped us reach this point. I thought back on stories from my dad, the World War Two vet and big air force pioneer… but something… it just felt off," Alex attempted to describe. "Like I was writing some generic report on George Washington. So, even though I'm not sure how I convinced myself to even try, I sent away for information. About the Lehnsherrs." A flash passed across Erik's eyes, but he kept listening. From the box, Alex withdrew the better organized documents. "Grandpa Jake."

Becky watched Erik's face as Alex presented the folder. With the rest of his body hardly a little more than rigid, Erik reached to take it. At first holding it as if the entire thing would go up in flames from mere touch, the Headmaster laid it in front of him. With a tentative breath, Erik opened to the first sheet to read.

"… Papa."

With green eyes glistening, Becky regarded him adoringly at the utterance.

"I know I probably didn't have the right without your permission," Alex acknowledged. "And I will always love and appreciate my father, especially for Scott. But I couldn't stand in front of my class and act like who I am was shaped solely by him. I've held onto even your smallest mention of your dad. How his shadow over you helped you sleep at night, he was a man of his word but didn't fear raising his fists when he had to, how no matter how bad you felt he never made you out to be weak or lesser, his patience when you were trying, his expectations for you to be a man who gives everything he has and beyond even that for his family. I've told you before that when I look at you, I see my dad. With him," Alex raised the frame for the metal wielder to see, "I see us." He peered around at the other youths within the space. "All of us."

At Erik's complete disbelief on closer sight of the photograph, Becky told him, "We have copies."

"Wait until you see half that stuff, Dad," Frank piped up brightly. "Grandpa Jake's really cool."

Leaving the sofa, Tommy went to stand near the man's chair. "Erik?"

When the small hand moved to make contact with his face, Erik captured it to squeeze while still staring at the aged black and white.

"Dad," Alex came around the desk, leaving his hands at Tommy's shoulders, "I can't say I'm sorry I did it, but I am if I overstepped with you. I'll wait upstairs if you want me to."

The younger four grew immediately alarmed at what the eldest meant and Frank voiced it with, "What? But—" He quieted at the sudden constriction placed on his upper arm.

Leon further silenced him along with the rest with an expression that forbade continued disputing. A disgruntled Tommy crossed his arms and Becky gave off a slight pout.

Standing Becky as he got to his own feet, a disbelieving Erik demanded, "You honestly think I want to punish you for this?" Alex received no time to answer as Erik closed off the remaining space between them to yank him into a solid embrace. "Thank you, boychick. I can't begin…" He cupped Alex's face between both hands. "Thank you."

With a feeble smirk, Alex returned, "Back at ya, old man."

Erik gestured for the others to approach and the six huddled together. "Look at all of you." Erik reiterated, "Look at you." He brought his arm around Becky and flicked at the males' chins. Ending with Tommy, he lifted him to support on one hip. "What you've given me," he pressed cheeks with Tommy, "is greater than Abraham's entire line."

"To be fair, we are less in the habit of killing and selling each other," Leon pointed out offhandedly.

"Not so sure," Alex said glibly. "Frankenstein came close a couple times."

Becky brought up, "I came close with you a couple times. But only the selling part… I guess."

Alex countered, "You're pretty cute for somebody who dodged the spanking part with me way more than a couple times."

Becky reacted to that with the most guiltless green irises she could muster.

Tommy then wondered, "Whatever happened to that major your dad saved?"

"Yeah," Frank also wanted to know. "Where'd he disappear to when you guys needed help?"

"Major Scharf." Erik's voice packed an icy venom with every syllable.

Instantly reading the man, Alex instructed, "Guys, let's stop coming at Dad with all—"

"No." That refuted, Erik took in the youthful faces around him. "After changes were made to the law, my uncle- my father's younger brother- was beaten near to death and made to wear a sign everywhere he went, saying he'd disgraced a German woman. My uncle was a happy, fanciful young man and almost never seen without a girl on his arm. But to force himself on even one? Never. My father sought out Scharf, hoping to gain immunity. He was left waiting in Scharf's office for hours until an SS horde came. They accused him of making unnecessary trouble in the major's office and attacked him for, as they claimed, resisting arrest. Before they could kill him, Scharf ordered him thrown out of his office. He told my father they were even and left him there, bruised and bleeding."

Disgust filled Becky's face as quickly as rage did Alex, Frank's, and Tommy's. Leon listened with only the slightest, banal shake of his head.

Frank sneered, "Proud Son of Germany…"

"He was a proud son," stated Erik. "Among elders who failed him in every way."

"Another kindred spirit," came from Leon.

"But Grandpa Jake didn't fail," Alex put forth, facing Erik. "He never failed you. Even back when you thought you were less than yourself, he never left you."

Erik responded despondently, "I want to believe that's true."

"We know it is," Becky insisted. "Because you never failed us, Papa."

Erik drew her in closer to his side and dropped a kiss into her curls.

After a period of them all lingering in individual ponder, Erik spoke next with, "With today's power displays, it would be in our favor to replenish. Go get cleaned up. Frank, meet me in the kitchen when you're through."

"On it," the boy in question saluted, filing out with the rest.

Tommy frowned at a thought. "We don't have to put on good clothes, do we?"

"No such torture on Father's Day," Erik assured. "But I do want that hair combed and those hands washed." He placed the child on his feet and applied a light swat to get him moving. "I'll be right along, boychick."

Tommy stilled briefly. When he stepped into the hall, he clutched his silver cross with a smile steadily increasing.

Erik secured spots for Alex's findings. He positioned the frame on his desk near the other photographs and proceeded out to clean and cook for his sharklings.