Rise or Fall Chapter 306 Papas of Future Past, a x-men: the movie fanfic

Chapter Three Hundred Six

Author's Word: Guess what's back for 2018, fam! Well, duh, me, but better yet, Rise or Fall! Thank you to everyone who periodically poked me with PMs to ensure I was still taking in oxygen. Just love to love you guys! And as we enter a new year, my wish for all of you is- look, just don't die, okay? Pinky promise? In-between, please enjoy and review!

Heavy musk within the windowless storage space flooded the owner's nostrils. Unsurprisingly, the all too familiar scent jarred him not. His real nuisance proved to be the near microscopic print on his numerous shelved goods. Given illumination by the three oil lamps, he still strained his eyes to decipher the writing. Gripping a bottle by the neck, he immediately dropped it when he stepped poorly and caused the ladder beneath him to wobble. In a lightning swift motion, another kept the proprietor steady while the other caught the bourbon an inch before it could shatter against the encaustic floor tiles.

"Victor." In firm place again, he took the bottle back from the lad. "That's nice work. How you prowl about that way without making so much as a peep is what I can't figure."

Humored gaze in place, Victor removed the spectacles from his shirt pocket. "You left these on the counter."

"Hm, so I did." Accepting the glasses, the older man begrudgingly adorned his face with them.

"What're you doin' in here, anyway?"

Wriggling his frames the youth's way, the barkeep responded wryly, "For all that reading you do, you never noticed that big sign out front that says "Crane's"? It didn't come with the place."

"I mean inventory," Victor clarified. "I thought me and Levi were tacklin' that tomorrow."

"Don't worry yourself. There will be plenty left for the two of you to straighten out. Question is," Nathan resumed going through the labels, "what are you still doing here? Thought you finished cleaning already."

"I'm here because you keep cheatin' yourself." When the man turned to him in confusion, Victor presented the coins to him. "You overfilled my pay envelope."

"I haven't lost my mind yet, boy," Nathan said matter-of-factly, getting back to his present task. "I know very well what I put in there."

Victor enclosed the coins in his palm. "Mr. Crane, I really appre—"

"Scuttle on home," Nathan dismissed, swapping one spirit for another, "before your mother greets you with a switch."

Bobbing his head, Victor replied, "See you tomorrow," and started out of the backroom.

Once he had his mahogany corduroy jacket as well as satchel attached to his body, the young man departed the tavern. After his eyes, ears, and nose fully confirmed the deserted surroundings, Victor launched himself. Landing on one wooden limb, he maneuvered through the tree tops with leaps and bounds.

The newly risen sun above cast its radiant beams across the property below, inviting itself in through the windows. The glorious light shining through the glass panes and heating his fair-skinned features affected him hardly at all. Several months prior had been a different story. Despite arriving in the fall, even that minimal daylight frequently caused him to shoot upright in bed. During his first week in his new room, he recoiled from the sunrise as if the golden gleam would set fire to his flesh. When out and about, he often had to pause to allow his keen eyes to adjust under the blue sky. He never deemed the sun his enemy but actually a former ally reintroduced to him after being taken by the malice of darkness. The sun simply proved yet another individual with which he needed to reacquaint himself.

On that morning in particular, the fireball in the sky came off frigid compared to the warmth that currently laid directly next to him. At some point of the night, Victor had heard the faint creaking of his door followed by the additional weight on his mattress. Under any other circumstance, even a fly attempting to penetrate his bedchamber would be a cause-for-claws reaction. However, before he picked up the minute footsteps, the billowing familiarity sensation euphorically alerted him to the presences of both pup and Pickle Toe.

Rolling to his left side, Victor felt the fur belonging to the body of the cat situated on the pillows between the two brothers. Squinting then raising his head, Pickle Toe let off a mew. Victor glided his hand across the soft coat, making the cat stretch and curl up even more comfortably. He set his gaze on the slumbering runt next. So small and thin, his form practically vanished under the long nightshirt. Aware that the younger boy received wisecracks about his appearance from certain schoolyard riffraff, Victor found an innocent adorability about him. His mouth being presently shut especially cemented the sentiment. When Logan wriggled his feet and emitted a faint whimper, Victor experienced the vibration of purring. The sound made the still sleeping child inch closer towards him. Victor touched their temples together in a nuzzle, nosing at Logan's hairline.

Experiencing a tickle, Logan parted eyelids. With a light moan, He balled fists to rub away the excess sleep remnants. He then promptly flopped onto his back with his head against the pillows. When Victor moved to linger directly above him, Logan pawed at him.

The newly awakened child stated, "It's your birthday."

"Yeah?" Victor used his loose hair to bat at his cheeks. "What about it?"

Letting off an infantile growl, Logan captured a section of the honey wheat strands between his teeth. At the resulting tugging, Victor retaliated by going after his neck. Wiggling vigorously, Logan tried more menacing snarls, but only poorly stifled giggles echoed from him. Victor nipped at his skin enough for his brother to feel it, but ensured he left not a single mark. A sharp meow followed by several thumps to his head caused the teenager to jerk back.

"Ha!" Logan beamed his cat's way. "Thanks, Picks."

"Lousy furball," Victor grumbled, inwardly using an entirely different noun to describe the animal.

Logan pounced him. "You're the furball, Goldilocks."

Victor stretched on his back now. "And you're the runt, Rumpelstiltskin."

"And you're still too tall," Logan retorted with immense haughtiness before growing inquisitive. "Is sixteen the same old thing as fifteen? You feel any different?"

"I feel different," Victor answered him, brown eyes looking into the fanciful blue. "But it ain't 'cause of today."

Logan started to inquire further until another curious tone sounded. "My, where oh where are my little boys?"

"Mama," Victor called back to her, his features brightening without aide of the sun.

Cloaked in her white robe with strawberry blonde tresses streaming down her back, Elizabeth entered. "So," she faced the two, her every molecule seemingly aglow, "this is what Heaven looks like. Never thought I'd behold it again in this life."

When Logan crawled off him, Victor rolled out of bed and onto his feet. As he moved summarily to go to her, it genuinely surprised him that his mother not only stayed standing on contact but locked impenetrable arms around him.

"Year in, year out, I had only one wish." Elizabeth stepped away just enough to view and cup both sides of his face. "Happy birthday, son."

Trying with difficulty to blink away moisture and keep his shoulders from quivering, Victor breathed, "Thank you, Mama."

Logan went to his side to affectionately nudge him. "Mama," he put his hand in hers, "you're not really still a little boy at sixteen, are you?"

At the partial alarm she saw on his face, Elizabeth playfully poked his nose. "Not according to the world. As if it matters." She took Victor's wrist. "My world is right here."

Contentment in both face and tone, Victor said, "Thanks a lot for letting me go in this afternoon. It'll only be a few hours to go over inventory."

"Don't try to make a habit of this," Elizabeth promptly emphasized, using her fingers to move hair out of his face. "Even the Lord took a day for Himself. And I don't want you even a minute late for work. The sooner you arrive, the sooner you'll be right out for us to resume our celebration."

Logan smiled when she squeezed his shoulder and Victor vowed, "Yes, ma'am."

"Go on and wash for breakfast," Elizabeth directed next. "The tub is already filled. I'll lay out your clothes."

The boys hastened diligently and Logan caught a glimpse of Pickle Toe as they went. He currently licked his front paw to clean the top of his head. Logan so often wondered how a little spit could transform his cat's coat into glossy perfection.

Once in the sizable tub, Logan's eager splashing hardly registered with Victor, who gazed around the room. Even after so many months, the water closet with fully working pumps still left him in awe. The gagging stench of the chamber pot continued to cause his hair to stand on end at random times. He also recalled the pot to be the preferable option as opposed to being made to linger in his own waste for days at a time.

"Ah!" The tidal wave of water sent his way by the cackling urchin returned Victor to their present.

With a strong breath, Victor sunk under the moisture, determining it a good opportunity to wash his hair. He decided it a good time to attack his brother's unsuspecting toes as well.

Rigidly in place, the heavy brown eyes could only stare at the outfit awaiting him on his mattress. Copper pants and vest with polished shoes. Victor traced his hand along the collar of the tan shirt. Lifting it at the shoulders with delicacy, he tried to absorb the faintest hint of its prior owner's scent. That's when he noticed the gold accessory that had been hidden by the shirt. Grasping it, he watched the timepiece swing back in forth as if hypnotized by its glint.

When he rediscovered reality, he began to dress. He did pause at the full-length mirror made onto one wall. While some nights still came with a chill, he did not know how longer he could justify living out of long sleeves with summer vastly approaching. He remembered Nathan telling him about the ins and outs of a man's body, but the furry excess on his chest, around his belly, and arms appeared thicker than a forest. Plenty found his hair strange enough, but he knew well what the reactions would be to the rest of his beastly body. Victor growled, but squashed the desire to punch the mirror. He got into his clothes as quickly as he could. Shoes tied into place, he faced his reflection with greater approval. Taking his satchel, he made sure he packed his Bible. With an impish air about him, he also slipped in the copy of Wuthering Heights.

Brown ribbon in his possession, Victor made his way into the kitchen. "Ma?"

Elizabeth, in her forest green dress, turned from packing the basket. Without a word, she took the ribbon to style her eldest's hair into a neat ponytail.

Removing stray lint from one of his jacket sleeves, Elizabeth deemed, "Perfect."

Victor did not bother hiding his satisfaction in her use of the word.

Elizabeth laughed lightly at Logan nearly strangling himself on his way in. "Baby, you're going to choke at this rate." She went to him to help get the thin tie on him properly. "There," she intertwined fingers with him, "handsome as ever." This resulted in crossed arms and a sour face from her youngest. As if reading his mind, Elizabeth gripped his chin. "Yes. You. Are. Forget about the petty and callous. They're only jealous."

"Yeah, except I don't know about that handsome bit." Victor came over to toss the child's hair. "You're more like precious."

Unable to pounce while in his navy suit, Logan settled for sticking his tongue out at him.

Once they had everything packed, the family trio began their trek. Elizabeth happily carried the basket while Logan rode Victor's shoulders. As they ascended the grassy hill, Logan perked over the sights and smells of the many flowers. Dashing ahead, Victor kept a tight grip on his brother's ankles to spin in place with him. Logan's laughter filled the air. He raised his arms, hollering in triumph. Elizabeth lingered more than once, her eyes trying to capture every moment of their antics.

They eventually spread the blanket under a shade tree. From the basket, Elizabeth unloaded crisp bacon, hardboiled eggs, cinnamon toast, and to Victor's delight, a special tart pie topped with strawberries, blackberries, and green grapes. Logan manned the tea service and poured a cup for each of them. He also added the milk and sugar amount by their different preferences.

"Thank you, my dear." Elizabeth stroked Logan's right cheek as she sipped. "How fortunate your wife will be to feel like a queen every single day."

"Uh uh! I ain't gettin' hogtied into fixin' tea for nobody but you, me, Vic," Logan flashed eyes at his brother, "and Gail."

Downing another grape, Victor deflected with, "With the way girls at school try to fatten you up? Sendin' you home with cookies, gingerbread, candy…"

"Just Bea," Logan insisted. "And Dorothy and Jenny sometimes. Only 'cause I keep the big guys from hoggin' the swings and I shoot marbles fair and square."

Elizabeth mentioned pointedly, "And you help them back to their feet the second they take a fall?"

"Of course, Ma," Logan answered conscientiously. "They go through the door first, block the mud puddles, and take their books if I see 'em strugglin'. I know, Mama."

Catching a glimpse of the watch, Victor brought up, "At this rate, we'll get to church twenty minutes in."

"And I've waited twelve years to celebrate this day with my boys," Elizabeth stated matter-of-factly. "I'm certain the good reverend can survive the agony of twenty minutes."

"Who gives a flyin' hoot, anyway?" Logan dismissed altogether. "You seen the way some of them look at us since Vic started goin' with us? Like Mrs. Tremblay last Sunday. Eyeballin' us with that big ol' peaches and plums hat on her head. Bet she swallowed it whole after service with that rhino rump of hers."

Victor had to keep his food from journeying back up through his nostrils with his heavy snorting.

"Logan," Elizabeth attempted to reprimand, touching her chest more from her little boy's way with words than the negative sentiment expressed. "That's absolutely terrible. To know perfectly good fruit went to waste on that gaudy birds nest she called a hat." Sending her boys into howling spells, Elizabeth summoned some decorum. "Remember what I'm always telling you about petty people?" She looked from Logan to Victor with expression serious. "Ignore them. No matter how much they tempt you. They can whisper their little rumors and falsehoods all they like, but God brought you home to us. If there is any family deserving of walking into that church with heads high, it's ours."

In agreement with their mother, they continued eating. After consuming two plates worth, Logan played among the wildflowers, diligent in not ripping or smearing his clothes. He spotted a cricket and beyond some tall grass, several others emerged with enthused unison leaps. Victor glanced over to see his younger brother giving the tiny creatures chase. Though he shook his head, he quickly rushed over to join in. Deciding that tidying could wait a few minutes more- her boys needed to digest, anyway- Elizabeth got up to take part as well.

Or if, on joyful wing

Cleaving the sky

Sun, moon, and stars forgot

Upward I fly

Still all my song shall be

Nearer, my God, to thee

Nearer to thee!

On conclusion, the head of ginger bowed in gratitude of the ensuing applause.

Clapping his own hands, the black-donned minister crossed the short stage. With a pat to his daughter's cheek, he re-claimed the podium and cast eyes on his congregation.

"Truly the Spirit thrives in my Abigail this morning," When he glanced at her once more briefly, Gail formed a small smile and dipped into a slight curtsy. Cret faced the crowd again. "I believe the same is true of those of you gathered here with us. As soon as I got out of bed this morning- after thanking the Lord for that privilege-," merriment spread through the group at his interjection, "I knew this beautiful day came with promise and hope. Though Easter has passed, I'm reminded of…" He paused at the incoming footsteps.

In a seemingly rehearsed motion, every head whipped back. Their many eyes spotlighted the arriving three.

Standing between her young pair, Elizabeth spoke pleasantly. "Well, my goodness. Certainly, my boys are the apples of my eye, but I never anticipated all of you awaiting us with baited breath."

"You've never been more right in your life, Father." Gail nudged her way in front and gripped the podium as she proclaimed, "This day has awarded us promise and hope of Exodus proportions. Congratulations, Widow Howlett on your firstborn's sixteenth birthday."

Seated to the right with her family, Bea Barrett moved to stand on her chair. "Happy birthday, Victor!"

"Happy birthday," many chorused along with, "Congratulations."

Entirely bashful and nearly dizzy, Victor relaxed a little at Logan coming to his side. He snickered at the runt's brazen waving. With Gail's ushering, Elizabeth led her sons to the front to sit.

After the briefest eye contact with the widow, Chet exchanged an even shorter but far more distinct look with Gail. The girl wriggled her eyebrows before determining she, too, would enjoy the service better from the head pew.

Hardly an inch apart from each other on the bench, the two lingered before the stream. Framed sampler in his possession, he dragged fingers across the protective glass as if feeling the delicate material. Against a mainly white background, it detailed a bearded man with a stone tablet in each hand underneath a storm of lightning bolts.

Victor finally reacted to the creation with, "This must've taken you weeks."

"Barely two," Gail dismissed. "I had a slight advantage with the image so vivid in my mind. Do you like it?"

Victor answered, "It's going on my wall as soon as I get home. Gail, thank you."

Her eyes remained steady on him. "You're quite welcome, Mr. Creed." Giving her a smile, Victor opened his satchel to store the frame. Gail noticed the hardback inside and studied the title. "You're still reading that?"

"Re-reading," Victor responded with interest. Taking Wuthering Heights out, he flipped to the sixth chapter. "Look at this." He raised it for them to view together and indicated the margin notes.

"Protagonists present, heroes non-existent. The dupe mistaking poison for passion," Gail read.

"He goes on like that." Victor went to the next page. "The crazy part is I agree with every word. Like I wrote it all myself."

Gail enjoyed his enthusiasm. "John Howlett was quite well-read and spoken. It's no surprise you have a kinship."

Quieting as pensiveness took over his countenance, Victor put forth, "About the dumbest thing you ever heard, right? He wasn't my father. He was nothing to me. If he was still alive, I'd have never made it through the front door."

Gail frowned in heavy concern. "Is that what you think?"

"Before he died, John and my ma had a son; a real family. If I'd shown up any earlier, I'd have wrecked my ma's whole life… again."

"Victor," her tone hushed, Gail seized him by both sides of his face in gentle urgency, "how can one so bright be so daft? I've known your mother nearly my entire life. Her marriage was beautiful, but I cannot remember her being happier with her head held higher than she is now. Not for what you do or contribute, but because you- how do you phrase it?- suck in air."

Victor went into a robust chuckle and his lips fondled her palm. She experienced his unique vibrations and leaned over to press her ear to his chest, absorbing the purrs. Victor stiffened at first, but grew elated when Gail stayed peacefully in place. When their eyes raised and leveled again, they filled the marginal space between their faces with a unifying kiss. They could only enjoy it for a few precious moments before the need for oxygen overruled their other desires for the time being.

Gail noticed the watch clipped to his vest. "That was John's also, wasn't it?"

"Yeah." Victor gripped the device to look at its face. "The runt wears it sometimes, but I figured Ma wanted to make sure I ain't have any excuses for not gettin' my hide movin'." Putting his book away, he took her hand to guide them both back to their feet. "I better get over to Crane's. I'll take you home first."

Raising an eyebrow, Gail half-joked, "You would subject me to a luncheon of my father's doyen parishioners? Are there no dragons or trolls you'd prefer to feed me to?" At the good-humor her words bestowed on him, she eyed him while winding arms around his torso. "I'd much rather wait on you to get off."

Victor appeared skeptical. "You want to wait around while me and Levi trudge through inventory?"

A sparkle shined in Gail's eyes. "Who else is going to squeeze the lemonade for you beastly brutes? Not to mention, take care of the cleaning and mending if you get so much as a thread out of place on these fine clothes."

Features highly pleased, Victor stated, "You can talk me into anything, Miss Pelletier."

Joining hands, they returned to where Gail's light brown nag grazed. Victor helped her up into a side position before getting himself mounted to grip the reins. He waited until he felt Gail's arms at his middle then started the horse off on their trek. The pleasant ride ended too soon for the teenagers as the tavern came into view fifteen minutes later.

After getting her horse properly tied to the hitching post, Gail walked to where the tall male struggled with the door. "Problem?"

Victor managed to bite back a growl. "I'm the first one here? For the love of—" His ears picked up light activity inside the establishment. "Levi?" He banged on the wood with his fist. "Levi, open this door, ya cock robin!"

Gail clutched her chest to resist laughter. "Victor."

Adhering to the youth's request, Levi stepped half-out through the door. "Sixteen for a full ten seconds and using such crudeness?" He clicked his tongue in faux disapproval. "What would your mother say?"

"My mother ain't he…" Experiencing a certain wave of energy, Victor hurried past Levi, who sent a smirk Gail's way.

The confetti raining on top of him preceded the jubilant chorus of, "Surprise!"

The word filling his ears even more than the colorful confetti bits covered his shoulders, Victor could only stand in absolute stillness. Balloons in red, yellow, and blue had been tied on every available furniture piece, causing a surreal atmosphere against the bar's deep brown interior. Food platters as well as lemonade containers lined the counter. Victor watched a few neighbors of his and Gail's age along with some of their regular patrons emerge from hiding. He absently shook hands with Nathan, felt a shoulder pat from Levi, and Gail's fingers on his bicep.

"Ha!" Victor awoke from his incredulously rigid state in order to catch his barreling brother. "Fooled ya, Vic! Get a load of your face."

"You little runt." Victor grabbed him at the waist, bringing the short boy high over his head. "Pulled the wool over my eyes, huh?" He jiggled him a little.

Arms and legs squirming, Logan laughed rowdily. "Happy birthday, big brother."

Victor lowered him enough for them to connect foreheads. He brought Logan to stand again, but kept him near, still floored.

A pair of lights on the two-tier cake signaled Elizabeth coming forward from the rear of the building. "Happy birthday again and again, son."

Victor could only muster, "Mama…"

"Ma's German chocolate cake," Logan grinned. "And look, look, we dipped the candles ourselves." He eagerly pointed to the "1", "6" shaped pieces of wax.

A beaming Gail urged, "Make a wish."

"You must be pullin' my leg." Victor faced her. "I'm supposed to ask for more than this?" He glanced around at the festive attendees, head continuously reeling.

Levi cleared his throat with a mischievous glint in his irises. "I have a few suggestions…."

Nathan flicked his ear. "I know you see these ladies present."

Logan snickered into his hands.

Shaking her head, Elizabeth encouraged, "Go on, son. You deserve everything your heart desires."

Getting into a certain position, Victor dipped and expelled a colossal enough breath to extinguish both candles. The faint residual smoke they produced fluttered upward, briefly creating an airy frame around Gail's enraptured face.

Liquid containing tray in her grasp, the woman experienced the feeling of a bookend when she entered her oldest child's quarters. She silently took in Victor with back to the headboard, captivated by his latest literary treat. He wiggled his toes periodically but never broke concentration at the duo of boy and cat attacking his sock covered feet.

With a delighted shake of the head, Elizabeth put forth, "How did I know warm milk would be in order?"

Victor raised his eyes long enough to acknowledge her, "Thanks, Ma," before returning to the words before him.

Placing the tray on Victor's night table, Elizabeth poured their two glasses before filling another for herself. It surprised her not nor did she object when Logan shared his milk with Pickle Toe.

Sitting on the side of the bed, she noticed the title of The Tell-Tale Heart. "Is that from Levi?"

Victor nodded, lowering his glass. "He says he has to corrupt me some kind of way."

Elizabeth laughed lightly. "I think the corruption is for his own sake. Your finer qualities are likely rubbing off on him."

Victor wore a small smile and shrugged his shoulders a little. "Who knew I had any?"

"I did." Elizabeth cupped his cheek. "From the moment you were born. There isn't anything- anyone- that can convince me otherwise." Experiencing weight decreasing, Victor nuzzled her palm. "Did you have a nice birthday?"

"Of course, Ma. But you ain't have to go through all that trouble and spend—"

Blue irises going from cool streams to icy daggers, Elizabeth repeated pointedly, "Did you have a nice birthday?"

Almost dropping his book and glass, Victor responded with a rapid, "Yes, ma'am." He gave his sniggering brother a side look.

Thumping his shoulder against Victor's arm, Logan crawled over to lean on their mother. "Read us a book, Mama, please."

"Yeah," seconded Victor, "please, Ma."

Made radiant at their mutual request, Elizabeth asked, "Which one would you like to hear?"

"What's that about, anyway?" Logan reached for Victor's book.

The blonde immediately held the short story high over his head. "Not for runts like you."

Logan let off a minute growl and settled against Elizabeth again. "So? Tell-Tale Heart. Sounds like a bunch of kissy-kissy girl stuff, anyway."

"Excuse me, Pickle Toe." Elizabeth reached under the cat for the title he currently laid on. "Oh, look. Oliver Twist."

With her sons in eager agreement over her selection, Elizabeth started narration on the first chapter. Between her voice and the calming milk, fatigue got the better of the often insatiably active young males. Maneuvering his lengthy form, Victor eased his head onto his mother's lap. Her equally soothing fingers went into his hair without one word missed. Her voiced filled his ears and his drooping eyes locked in on the framed fabric hanging above his bed.

On morning light's arrival, the sun did not disturb him or even register compared to the empty spot beside him. Pickle Toe inching out from under the ruffled linens proved that side to not be completely vacant, but they still lacked one little body. Rubbing his wrist against his eyes to clear them, Victor distinctly remembered Logan falling asleep before him the previous night. During Elizabeth's reading, the younger boy had drooped and landed right on Victor's stomach. The impact had not caused the pup to even crack an eyelid.

Knowing his brother not to be one to spring out of bed at the conclusion of a weekend, Victor called for, "Logan!" Tossing his covers off, he hastened to stand.

"Keep your fuzz on, would ya?" The voice signaled the brunette boy's entry into the room with arms loaded. "This was supposed to be ready yesterday. Dang paint took twenty years to dry."

Relief and fascination took the place of Victor's apprehension. "Runt, you…" Approaching, he laid a hand on top of the wooden chest, coated in cherry red. "This is mine?"

"Nah, I'm just showin' it to ya before I wrap it up for the prime minister." Logan rolled his eyes, placing the crafted container on the floor. "Course it's yours. Wanna get some practicin' in before breakfast?"

Blinking, Victor gave off a nod. "Yeah, yeah. Not in your school clothes."

"Yes, Ma," Logan replied glibly, gathering Pickle Toe before departing on bouncing feet.

Looking over every angle and detail of the chest, Victor pulled the lid back. Astonishment filled him in and out at the stacks of paper that practically overflowed. He gathered a few sheets, quickly realizing them to be letters; hundreds of dated letters. He raised one from two years prior to his arrival.

I'm back, Victor.

Finally! We just finished eating. We had company over this year and those ladies wouldn't quit squawking like hens. Ma looked a little tired of them, too, but she's too nice to say so. I wasn't listening to them really. My ears feel funny with too many voices all over the place. Ma's food was good and she sent everybody home with candy apples. She saved two special for me. I'll probably eat one later if I feel like it. It'd taste better if you were here to eat the other one with me. I didn't pay much mind during the blessing. Everybody would think I'm rotten for this, but I didn't say thanks for the food, guests, or anything. I was busy talking to God about you. I asked for you to have good health and food. I didn't care about the guests. I'd have traded them all in to have you at the table. When I find you, remind me I owe you a candy apple.

Happy Thanksgiving,
your brother,

Logan

"Big brother! Come on!"

Alert again, Victor scrambled to return the letters neatly. "Alright, alright. Keep your fuzz on!" Shutting his trunk, he rushed up to get into a pair of work pants.

XXXXX

Given the mock sensation of flight thanks to the large man's arms propping him, the giggling lips and olive-green eyes stared into the brown. Sprawled on the playmat, Victor purrs seemed endless with the euphoric baby boy in his grasp. He eventually lowered Todd onto his chest, letting him nestle right in. Mira sat close to them, much more interested in making lively sounds on her xylophone.

Reclining against her fiancé's chest in the chair they shared, Maya showed him another page in the catalogue. "Are you sure you want this color in the living room? We still have time to alter the order."

"Honey, I told you," Sean kissed the back of her head, "go with whatever you want. Pick plaid for all I care. After these gigs, I'll be too busy passing out on the décor to gripe about it."

"I know," Maya said with a bit of a cutesy sulk. "I just don't want you passing out on anything you secretly want to set fire to."

"Smiley," Logan spoke, departing from the private bathroom, "quit makin' your man think he's got a say in this. Please, you and Raven probably had that house all decked out from the basement-up before you even set foot in a store."

Maya insisted coyly, "Just a little brainstorming. It's matron-of-honor/bride priority."

"Huh," Sean hummed. "Alex said if I hurl during the vows he's laughing at me."

Maya remarked, "How Alex Summers goes from sweet to insufferable should count as a mutation."

Making her way into her suite, Kayla informed the gathered, "Shane says Gina and Little Ramona are both doing splendidly and Ray remembered how to breathe. But since Gina is such a young mother, they want to keep them for forty-eight hours to be on the safe side." She looked up at her husband walking her way. "I said we'd visit in the morning."

Logan stood with a visage of admiration. "Marriage and childbirth in the same month. That girl is laced with steel."

Rising with caution due to his cherished cargo, Victor brought Todd over to his father's arms. "Goin' to gear up for this shift."

Patting his son's back, Logan smirked, "Partnerin' up with Dragon Lady I take it?"

Answering his brother with a whack on the head, Victor took his leave.

At the aged photograph presented to them, the eager female clutched it and pointed out the man in question.

"Your dad," Raven determined knowingly. "Has to be."

"You, too, big girl?" Sitting on the edge of his desk while addressing his siblings, Erik replied, "The children also mentioned something about a… small resemblance."

"Small?" Charles repeated with amused incredulity. "Just look at that height and form. You're physical doubles. I looked like a toddler playing dress-up in Daddy's clothes on my wedding day."

"Stop it." Raven bumped him with her hip. "You were a complete stud in Dad's suit." With one more glance, she handed Erik back the picture. "My twin is amazing. I can't believe he managed to dig this up for you."

Erik took that opportunity to inform them, "Alex would prefer Scott not know the reason behind this fact-finding mission."

Both nodded and Charles solidified their understanding with, "Of course, brother."

With normal breathing overhead from Angel, Samantha, as well as Midnight, Victor moved on to another door further away. He peered inside, content to find Scott still sleeping and now hugging a pillow. After a final second-floor check, Victor started up to his designated sanctum.

Minutes later, Adrienne joined him. Changed from the chic day clothes she wore while visiting her father, she now sported comfortable black attire. The dark top and pants accentuated her fiery scarlet ponytail.

Incapable of letting fine jewelry go unnoticed, she inquired with grand captivation, "Is that yours?"

Looking away from the timepiece, Victor explained, "It was my stepfather's. One of the few things we salvaged from… way back when. Logan wears it every blue moon. The mite's lookin' to get skinned. He must've been playin' around with this thing up here."

Adrienne sat near him on the sofa. "May I?" Victor placed the watch in her palm. "Yes, most exquisite for a century or more. It must appraise for—" A sharp gasp echoed from her and her every muscle stiffened.

"Dri?" Taking her by the shoulder, Victor searched her faraway eyes. "Adrienne," he remained careful not to jar her roughly, "baby?'

Light reigniting in her radiant blue eyes, she looked back at him. "Victor…"

"You saw something," Victor deduced. "What? Tell me."

"I…" Adrienne held the watch delicately. "We need my sister."

IIIIIII

Away from the ears of slumbering fledglings, the group assembled behind the closed doors of the library. Adrienne and Emma stood together in the open space between the tables, as did the brothers Howlett-Creed, and the trio of Erik, Charles, and Raven. Hank had wanted to attend, mainly out of concern for Victor, but opted to stay with Kiki and Trav. Both McCoy children proved clingier that night from missing their parents for several hours. Raven's motherly vibrations had gone off when Trav loaded on his best cuteness for her, but she decided to let the reason behind it drop. The final arrivals came in the form of Kayla escorting her pajama clad son.

"Charles!" Cody dashed to fling arms around the Professor's middle. "Mama says you got a job for me. What is it? Need me to bash open a bunch of bad dreams? Do ya, huh?"

As so often the case, the zealous child incited a glow from Charles. "Actually, little kitten," he stroked the boy's black strands, "I have a special mission for you," he spoke mysteriously, "through time."

Cody's eyes immediately widened. "To the future?"

Charles laughed at the very idea. "If only any of us wielded that particular gift. I meant a journey back in time. I need you to be a bit of a tour guide for your uncle and daddy. Aunt Adrienne has something to show them. Our telepathy will help them see her vision, but we need your presence to be a source of comfort for them. Do you understand?"

Cody nodded diligently. "Loud and clear, Charles."

Victor and Logan exchanged smirks over the little mite.

"And this is safe for him?" Kayla felt the need to reiterate.

"Absolutely," Charles assured. "After what he did for Maya, I've no doubt about his mental fortitude."

Cody stood in pure glee.

Adrienne presented the next concern. "You're certain we can pull this off without your little princess?"

"Our princess has exerted her powers more than enough for one day," informed Emma. "While her gift for illusions would come in handy, the nature of your powers will paint the picture for the men."

"You sure you want to do this?" Logan mumbled to his brother. "They're talkin' about diggin' around in our heads here and for what exactly?"

Victor responded, "Dri wouldn't go through all this if it wasn't important."

Logan accepted with a bob of his head.

They began to get into formation. Emma, Adrienne, and Charles lined one side of a table with Logan, Cody, and Victor across from them. Kayla stood close to her husband and son. Though finding the entire thing questionable, Erik nonetheless stayed behind Emma's chair to anchor her. Raven kept both hands all but glued to Charles' shoulders. When those at the table joined hands, Charles established the initial link. Emma helped feed it over to Adrienne. They connected with Cody before lastly bringing in the seasoned mutants.

Their entire atmosphere, location, and even bodily positions changed so instantaneously, Logan and Victor opened their eyes with a mutual startled jolt. On their feet now, they found themselves no longer in the library, mansion, or even the United States whatsoever. The late-night sky had been exchanged for brilliant daylight. They stood at the center of a highly active dirt road. Women in hair buns, floor-length skirts, and blouses buttoned all the way up to their necks walked by. Many of them carried goods in whicker baskets or used sun shielding umbrellas. A group of girls jumped rope outside someone's front gate, all wearing pinafores over their dresses. When some small boys raced their way with a ball, Victor and Logan attempted to move, but found motion unnecessary. The lads sped straight through the men's bodies without so much as a pause in momentum.

Logan started to comment until he noticed his brother's growing discomfort. "Vic?"

Breathing increasing exponentially, Victor veered about woozily. "I… I know this place."

"Whoa," both watched as Cody materialized before them, "take it easy, Uncle Vic." He went to grip and nuzzle his wrist. "It's okay, it's okay."

"What's goin' on, son?" Logan crouched to his level. "What wild goose chase is Adrienne sendin' us on?"

"Beats me," Cody shrugged then fully took in their surroundings. "Ohhhhh, man, this is cool! We're back in ancient times." With a snicker, he gestured towards the assortment of other boys in short pants and suspenders. "Did you seriously dress that sissy?"

"Yep." Logan's countenance revealed dry amusement. "Pay close attention and maybe you'll spot the t-rex we used to ride to school on."

Eying one building, Victor recognized, "… That church."

Putting a hand to his anxious brother's chest to steady him, Logan fought to stay upright himself at the approaching steeds. "No, no… can't be."

Upon command, the team of horses came to a stop.

"This is it," the driver announced.

"And it's about time, too," his passenger grumbled, tilting his hat back, showing traces of gray on his head that matched his beard. "This knee's ready to go out again."

"And I'll remind you that you invited yourself on this expedition." Tugging off his hood, the far younger and significantly darker-haired man unmounted to street level. "Here." He went around to assist the aged gentleman.

The crotchety one only batted his hand away. "I got it, I got it." He started down next.

Struggling for his voice, Logan uttered, "Dad…"

Victor felt his bottom jaw attempting to detach from his face.

"Dad?" Cody echoed his own father. A big grin curved his lips. "Grandpa John! Is that- is that Old Man Howlett with him?" Logan nodded shakily. "Oh, my God! Hey, Grandpa, Old Man Howlett!"

"Cody!" the elder Howlett-Creeds charged after him.

"I can't believe it! Grandpa John!" Diving through both men, Cody fell to the ground behind him, unaffected by the soil and grime. He sat up, wounded expression consuming his former bliss. "Grandpa…"

Helping his son to his feet, Logan brought him into a commiserating hug. "They can't see us, baby boy. This is all one big movin' picture for us."

"And let me remind you, boy," Old Man Howlett waved his cane, "that I wasn't about to let you venture off alone into this fool's trek. Shows what kinda stock I got; you're supposed to be the one with half a brain."

"Getting sentimental, Old Man?" John smirked. "And honestly, fool's trek? What do you call transporting squealing colored infants by moonlight? A hobby perhaps?"

"Something I've done enough times to pull off blind and deaf," responded Old Man Howlett matter-of-factly. "You're walking straight through the gates of hell."

Taking hold of his dangling pocket watch, John noted the hour. "Not if we keep wasting daylight. Come on, mustn't keep the inferno waiting."

"I still don't know what you mean to accomplish," Old Man Howlett used his cane to move alongside him, "except getting your poor wife's hopes up."

"Now, you really think me a fool." John entered the church through the heavy wooden double doors. "Elizabeth doesn't even know where we are, let alone why we're here."
Without need to use motion of their own, Victor, Logan, and Cody found themselves teleported inside the house of worship.

On sight of the conversing nuns, John whispered, "Let me handle this." Old Man Howlett merely waved him off. Strolling forward, John dipped at the waist cordially. The stain glass windows showered gold and emerald light over him. "Good morning to you, sisters. I understand Father McMillon has returned from sabbatical. Is he in?"

One sister dipped her chin. "I'll see if he's available, Mr…?"

"Pruitt." With a smile, he further clarified, "John Pruitt."

Old Man Howlett resisted shaking his head.

The nun returned shortly with the husky priest adorned in black. "Sister Agatha tells me you wish to see me. Mr. Pruitt, yes?"

"Pruitt?" John shook with him, face filled with mock confusion. "Is that what she heard? I really must learn to annunciate. It's John Howlett, actually. I came several months back to inquire about—"

"The Creed boy," Father McMillon recollected. "Yes, my parishioners at the time said you were rather… forceful in your attempt to gain information."

"I believe I did come on a bit strong," John admitted. "A wide-eyed suitor willing to do anything for his future bride. However, now that Elizabeth and I are married and you've returned, you can tell me the whereabouts of her son. He should be four by now; blonde hair, brown eyes."

Exhaling, Father McMillon began, "With all due respect, Mr. Howlett, the two of you are in nothing short of an adulterous union. Elizabeth Creed abandoned her fam—"

"Elizabeth Creed would have made it to the top of your eulogy list had she stayed with that tyrannical, pitiful excuse, unfit to be called man or even monster. Elizabeth Howlett, my wife still awakens from nightmares beyond anything you can conceive. Her screams haunt me throughout the day. Now, you are going to tell me where I can find Victor before my geniality runs dry."

Attempting to remain entirely straight-faced, McMillon said, "As you were told before, no one knows the whereabouts of Zachariah Creed since he abandoned his homestead after reclaiming the boy. An eager couple were prepared to take him in as their own, but they, too," he quickly glanced back at the dour sisters, "…have gone unheard from. You may not believe it now, but if God has any mercy at all, you'll never find them."

Remaining quiet for several moments, John stated, "It is by God's mercy I don't carry out what I intend to do to Zachariah Creed on you." The priest stilled, only swallowing. John faced the nuns once more, "Good day, ladies," before marching out with every part of his body taut.

Old Man Howlett caught up with his fuming son. "Pruitt, John? Lying in the Lord's house."

"He's forgiven greater sins," John dismissed, heading for the carriage. "This isn't over."

"Son." Taking him by the arm, Old Man Howlett felt the radiating irritation. "How long will you pursue this? If that boy is even still alive, Creed's probably got his head warped beyond repair. You and Elizabeth will have your own family soon enough. Do you honestly want another man's hellion infecting your children?"

Facing him, John asked in turn, "Are you riding or walking, Old Man?"

Letting quiet reign between them, the elder male walked around to his side of the carriage.

Taking it all in, Cody stepped forward when they prepared to ride off. "Hey, wait for us!"

Everything swirling around them like a cyclone of water colors, Logan swept up his son. Victor threw arms around both of them, positioning himself as if a mountain attempting to block the wind and rain's destruction.

At the chorus of gasps from every mental participant, the other three mutants acted with steadfast quickness. Kayla knelt to inspect and comfort her three males. Erik pressed a kind hand to Emma's back, softly coaching her breathing. Raven lowered, hugging Charles tightly around the neck.

Facing the other redhead, Raven inquired, "Are you okay?"

Adrienne gave off a nod and Emma touched hands with her again.

"Oh, no…"

"What is it, beloved?" Kayla asked at her son's vexation.

Leaving his chair, Cody made a path for the lead telepath. "Charles, I'm sorry. I blew it. I just couldn't believe… I saw them, I really… really saw them."

Disregarding whatever spin his own head experienced, Charles lifted the boy to sit on his lap. "No, little kitten, you did anything but blow it. This trip was not going to be easy for your daddy and uncle. Not without you, the light of their lives, to focus on. The vision only ended because it was all Adrienne was able to see."

A watery smile came to Cody's face. "I saw them, Charles." He leaned over to squeeze Adrienne's arm gratefully. "Thank you, Aunt Dri."

"Yes," was all the woman could suffice.

"What did you see, child?" Erik wanted to know.

"My Grandpa John," Cody answered, enthusiasm rebuilding. "And Great Grandpa, Old Man Howlett." He laughed. "He really was a crank, but kinda funny, too. It was weird, though. Grandpa John looks like Daddy except sorta," Cody searched for the word, "dashing or whatever like Charles."

The Professor tickled the fledgling's chin.

Raven's posture emitted childlike fascination. "You saw your dad?"

Logan nodded absently, blue irises cloudy. "He was young, determined, stubborn, smart. Nowhere near that skeleton gettin' eaten alive by the plague, soaked in his own piss…"

Kayla took her husband's developing fist to caress against her cheek.

The room went into reflective silence until Cody brought up, "And guess what else." Before anyone could, he told them, "They were tryin' to find Uncle Vic. Grandpa John wanted to take him home to Grandma Liz."

"Yes, dear boy, we saw it all, too." Charles peered across the table at the oldest mutant present. "Your stepfather truly loved your mother; loved you. He wanted so badly for you to be one family. Thank you for allowing us to witness it with you, Victor."

The leonine X-Man pushed back in his chair when Charles attempted to reach over to him. Cody and Raven looked bothered by the rebuff, but Charles maintained his understanding expression.

Shaking built in Logan's shoulders. "We could've grown up together. Right from the start."

"You have seen and done so much together for a thousand lifetimes," Kayla emphasized. "More than any siblings could hope to imitate. That is what matters, my love."

"Victor." Adrienne left her seat to go to him. "When that watch sent me back there, I knew I had to show you." A tentative smile crossed her lips. "Share it with you."

Getting to his feet, Victor evaded her touch as well. "I need to conduct an exterior sweep." That said, he marched towards the nearest window, raised it, and leapt out into the night.

A staggered Adrienne could only watch his movements until he fell from her sight. "I don't understand. I thought he'd be delighted."

Arms crossed, Erik headed her way as he spoke. "A man who has lost almost everything precious to him for countless decades. All you showed him was yet another opportunity stolen from him." He brought his hands together in a slow clap. "Bravo."

"Erik," an appalled Charles and Raven reproached their brother.

Erik's real surprise came in Adrienne's tongue offering up no scathing whatsoever. She turned and took off wordlessly from the library.

"Dri!" Emma only took time enough to set Erik with a sharp scowl before going after her sister.

Logan exited next with an utterance of, "I'll be in Eye Spy."

Kayla addressed their son. "Back to bed, beloved. I'll tell you another story after I check on the twins."

"Yes, Mama," her oldest boy replied.

With a sigh, Kayla headed off to look in on her other children.

Sliding off Charles' lap, Cody maneuvered to where the tall Headmaster stood. "We're not supposed to use hateful words in Charles' house." Cocky smile in place, the lad pulled back his barefoot to deliver a swift kick to the man's ankle.

Erik released a growling swear of his own, lowering to bring both hands to the forcefully contacted area.

As if not dismayed enough for one evening, Charles started to chide, "Codicat—"

"Go to bed," Raven intervened. "Go on. You heard your mom."

Accepting the blue woman's pointed order, Cody scampered off until he rediscovered the safety of his bed linens.