Rise or Fall

by Heiress Mellie

First Class: Charles and Erik have accepted their roles as guardians and headmasters over the young mutants but there is still work to be done for the greater than typical family. This is a familial and discipline, including spanking, centered fiction.

314. Chapter 314 Tricky Treat

Chapter Three Hundred Fourteen

Author's Word: Hi, Fam, we're in my favorite month of the year and I hope everyone has been having a royal blast this summer. On an unfortunately serious note, I have to address something I've addressed multiple times. How long am I going to address this? Until I no longer need to. That being said, every single chapter has a "risk" of controversial subject matter, certain graphic scenes, and unpopular opinions depending on a combination of not only time period but this little thing known as varying personalities, backgrounds, and mindsets. If you feel attacked or insulted on behalf of yourself or your sister, brother, friend, step-play cousin, etc, I can ensure you that I did not draw your name from a hat to pick on. In no way, shape, or form do I have such time on my hands. There is so much insanity going on in our own backyards. Not having your personal philosophy catered to is not a hate crime. Rise or Fall goes on as a second home and refuge for us allllll. Basically, chill out, people.

Now, enough of that tedious necessity note. Please enjoy and review!

From metal wielding Headmaster to shepherd, Erik guided his flock from the second level on into the Mag Cave. Alana and Raven shared the sofa, Charles occupied its right arm, and Hank stood nearest to his wife. Frank kept following Erik's every movement, right over to an upper shelf in a rear corner of the den.

"I took courses in Ancient Egyptian History and Arabic in university." Locating the correct text, Erik wiggled it free by its spine. "Hard to believe I managed to hang onto this old vocabulary book."

"Arabic," Charles echoed with grand impression. "That's an ambitious selection to fulfill the language requirement."

"I'll say," Hank heartily concurred. "Even Latin and Greek can't compare."

"Actually, I filled that with French, Spanish, and the like," Erik informed indifferently, resulting in exchanged glances of astonishment between the Professor and physician. "Egypt was for my own fancy."

"Oh yeah, my head keeps bouncing back and forth between cake classes," said Frank. "Physiology, microbiology- don't even ask me to narrow down history picks."

Turning her head towards Alana, Raven put forth flatly, "Genius brothers, genius husband, and still he's my Wonder Boy."

In an equal tone, the older woman replied, "You should have heard him in the library when he was six. While I was helping Linny with a school project, he memorized the state capitals. Out of boredom."

Hank quipped, "Didn't everyone do that as a kid?" He delighted in the ladies' half-hearted scowls.

"Here." Landing on the page he sought, Erik shared the book with Frank and tapped the word. "Aseel." When they saw the full definition, Erik determined, "Apparently, 'goodness' is an understatement."

"Genuine, brave, unique," Frank read. "… Pure?" He veered to place accusatory eyes on Charles. "You did crash land in Scott's head by mistake."

"Or," giving him a wry look, Charles stood to go to him, "perhaps I received confirmation of a truth I've known from the beginning. There is a great deal of good in you, Child of Light. Deny it, act contrary to it, but the fact remains."

Alana put forth, "For all your honors, that's been the hardest thing for you to learn."

Frank let go of a small sigh. "Good, fine, whatever. Am I okay? What about my eyes?"

"I sensed nothing that suggested concern." Charles tacked on, "Still, do as Hank says. Weekly eye exams and come to us immediately if anything feels remotely off."

"We'll be able to identify it before it becomes a real problem," Hank chimed in.

"Gotcha," Frank nodded.

Alana detected the more somber than usual visage of the older Headmaster. "Erik?"

The pensive man faced his brother. "Why did you hear Arabic in Frank's mind? He's never even studied it and neither of you has any cultural connections there."

"Maybe it's through you," Raven suggesting, getting the further intrigued room's notice. "No clue what for, but hey, try explaining how and why I make him into the twinkling eighth wonder of the world."

Charles commented, "That's perhaps the best theory we have right now."

Hank asserted, "I'll find the real answers in due time." He then addressed Frank directly. "And that's for me to lose sleep over, not you. You have schoolwork to concentrate on."

Frank groaned mildly. "Lab assistants always get the grunt work." Eying the Arabic text again, the teenager inquired, "Hey, Dad, do you have any more of your old schoolbooks?"

"A few." Erik resumed searching through his vast hardbacks. "If nothing else, I believe it's time for you to start seeing this program as the valuable learning opportunity it is instead of a mundane means of passing your idle time."

Frank lifted his gaze heavenly. "Where is Mondo hosting these seminars?"

II

You called on us to stop this war

God only knew what was in store

It rained tears, blood, and gore

Terrified to the core

Still, we arose for more

You made us who we are

Soaring like a shooting star

At the end of the seventh lyric, a slight turn of the head made the enthused singer detect the short bed escapee that wordlessly snuck in.

Sean smirked, "What're you doing up, bedhead?"

"I can't sleep anymore." Joey walked to where the teenager sat on the edge of the desk. "Where's Trick?"

"He can't sleep enough," Sean answered. "Maybe you two should trade off."

Not cracking even a sliver of a smile, Joey wanted to know, "Why'd you tell Mum and Dad about my contest?"

More than expecting the question, Sean came back with, "Because you were losing your mind not telling them. Look, I know you wanted to keep this a secret, but you really worried Trick and we wanted to make sure you're okay. If you're here to pitch a fit—"

"No," Joey cut in then calmed his voice. "I mean, why did you tell them? Why do you even care?"

Sean gaped at him a moment before pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, greatly resembling the elder Xavier. "Kid, I desperately need you to grow another couple inches so I can pin and torture you like I do Frank." He laid his guitar on the desk before rising. "Come here, Goldi-lad." Lifting Joey at his waist, Sean brought him to stand on the desk for improved eye contact. "Get this through your thick blonde skull. I don't just care about you. I love you. I always have. I just stunk at remembering to show it more. Just like I stunk at going for things because I didn't have the guts."

"Like me," Joey grasped.

Sean nodded. "I had to be nudged to even say hello to Maya, I had to be nudged to tell her the truth about us, I had to be nudged to finally fly, I had to be nudged into music, and the list goes on. Your art means as much to you as writing and music do to me, so this time I had to do the nudging. Because I don't want you missing out on things just because you're too shy to say anything. I don't want you to be any bully's easy target. I don't want you to spend day after day hating your powers. Not. Ever."

A smile found its way to the younger boy's face. "Thanks, Seanie… even though I didn't need any nudging to say hi to Laci or to tell her we're mutants. And I definitely didn't need Uncle Erik to shove me into flying."

Sean connected their foreheads with menace in his tone. "Good thing I didn't need to be shoved into saving your bad butt from splattering all over the ground."

IIIIIII

As if the grand ceiling offered her council, the thin teenager continued staring at it while expounding her displeasures.

"I'm not trying to call him two-faced or anything like that, especially since he's way more straightforward than most adults, but I swear Estevan has this dual-dad persona thing going." Brenda further described, "He is so great with Max- with the boys in general, really- but Max really makes him light up. Fabian's practically joined at his hip. And even though he's done a lot for us, it feels like Anne's always overlooked. Sure, she has better clothes than any girl on two continents, her powers are crazy cool, and her older brother would crawl through fire for her, but it's like none of them can tell when something's way off with her."

Sorting through her sewing basket, Kayla looked over quizzically. "Off in what way? At your ages, that can vary from weeping over baby fat to God-help-us-all."

Laughing, Brenda sat up on the wide bed. "No, it's not deity dire, but there are these moments I know she can't help but think about her twin. She gives all this comfort to Fabian when he has a nightmare, but what about what Anne goes through every day, reliving that in her head- not that she'll tell her dad. Look, I know absolutely nothing about losing a child, but he…" A wave of awkwardness washed over her as she went momentarily stiff. "And I am the biggest idiot who ever walked the planet. I'm just gonna go cut my tongue out real quick."

"Freeze," Kayla promptly commanded before the flustered girl could move. "You said nothing wrong until that "biggest idiot" nonsense. Your tongue will be answering to me if I hear it again."

"Yes, ma'am," Brenda replied contritely.

"Secondly," the adult female went on, "I agree with you on the rest. Whatever we deal with as parents, your kids have to take priority over our own feelings. That's something I had to learn myself at one point. One problem, however, is the nature of telepaths. Keep in mind I live with three of them. You can't begin to guess what they're thinking. It's possible Estevan is legitimately oblivious to what Anne's going through."

From the closet, the third feminine voice piped up, "You'd be amazed how many adults hail from Planet Oblivion." The doors divided as Maya tentatively rejoined them.

Both hands going over her mouth to contain the jubilant shriek she wanted to expel, Brenda beheld her in wonderment. "Oh, my, Super Bride…"

Immense satisfaction coursing through her veins, Kayla took her in more reservedly.

Making her way to the halfway point of the room, Maya mounted the stand. The light fixtures combined with the windows better emphasized her. She stood adorned in the luminous ivory garment. The sheer bodice with sleeves just shy of elbow-length revealed the satin sweetheart neckline that matched the waist sash. The layered skirt reached her ankles.

Smoothing the material below the sash, the combination frown/pout remained in place. "I ruined it…"

"What? Where?" The alerted Kayla moved to inspect for so much as a wayward thread.

Maya crossed her arms. "I just had to go and put it on."

Kayla automatically scoffed and batted at her wrist. "You stop that and be still." Focused on the hemline, she requested, "Brenda, grab my basket for me."

Retrieving what she deemed the matrimonial survival kit, Brenda merrily skipped over with it. "I can't wait to see it with your mother's veil."

"Neither can I," Maya admitted.

"Christ above…" Kayla kept full attention on alterations while the younger mutated females looked to see a flabbergasted Logan's arrival in the suite. He wheeled in a red wagon load of Kiki and Mira behind him. "He's got an angel on the loose."

Hardly able to maintain herself at the sentiment, Maya took a step down from the platform. "Wolverine."

Before Kayla could rebuke her movement, Logan used his hand as stop signs. "Eh, eh, eh, Smiley, filthy man, filthy." Clad in dirt coated overalls, he removed a morning glory from the plentiful bouquet he carried in his wicker container to hand to her. "I don't want a thread out of place until I walk you down that aisle."

The now beaming bride-to-be inhaled the fragrance in the blue bud.

"Thank you," said Brenda upon receiving one as well.

With one for his wife, Logan squatted to present his junior gardeners with theirs. "Maya's prettier than a picture, ain't she?"

"Uh huh." Kiki bobbed her head, giving the flower the bulk of her attention.

At his daughter's captivated visage, Logan picked her up out of the wagon. "You see Smiley's dress, yeah? Just you wait." He smooched her cheek. "Mama's goin' to make you one just like it one day. Then, Daddy'll walk you down the aisle to a Sean of your own."

Mira let off a squeal and clapped with her flower.

Kayla shared a cherished glance with her husband then asked, "Mind telling me where you stuck my little fox?"

"Sold the Pup for a handful of magic beans." Logan pretended to rethink that. "Or his brother stole him. One or the other." When Maya resumed her stance on the platform, he noted, "I see you vetoed on goin' floor-length."

"There was no selling me on that one," Maya said matter-of-factly. "I am not tripping into an impromptu somersault all over the Temple."

Logan scoffed, "I'd catch ya before you so much as tilted."

Making her way into the suite on sandal covered feet, Melissa observed the happenings. Logan throwing out off-the-cuff wisecracks, Kayla's intensely devoted seamstress duties, Brenda seated on the platform near Maya's feet and ready to bubble over with enthusiasm, and especially Maya's present attire.

First to notice her, Kiki gestured with her flower. "Hi, Missy!"

Finally distracted, Kayla raised her head at the latest arrival. "Melissa."

On his way to the bathroom after leaving his daughter with Kiki in the wagon, Logan quipped, "Thought I caught a whiff of forbodin' in the air."

With the comedic man's wife present, Melissa forced her tongue to ignore the remarks dreamed up in her mind.

"Hey," Brenda acknowledged her housemate, gesturing enthusiastically at the uplifted girl, "can you believe this dress? Kayla put every Park Avenue boutique to shame."

Aware of Maya's doleful eyes on her, Melissa finally commented, "No surprise. But I'm guessing the fly chick wearing it helps a little."

Maya eased with delight then spotted a flash of the white parchment behind the older girl's back. "What's that?"

Walking backwards a few paces, Melissa claimed, "Junk mail."

Clearly intrigued, Brenda hopped to her feet. "You have your mail delivered here now? By care of Mister Leon Osaka?"

"No, Miss Brenda Big-Mouth," Melissa promptly shot down. "From the manor."

"Oh… let me see." Brenda used her mutated speed to dash at her.

"Back off, squirt." Melissa dissolved and reappeared by the entrance to the terrace.

"Bren, come on," Maya attempted to intervene.

With full suspicious in her tone, Brenda questioned, "What's the big secret? Just junk mail… right?"

Kayla interceded, "Girls, please."

"It's nothing," Melissa insisted.

Done scrubbing his hands up to the elbows, Logan stealthily snatched the envelope from her. "Then, you won't mind if we take a little peek."

Melissa sneered, "You decrepit badger."

"Can the sweet talk, tuts." Logan removed the information contained within and read the first lines. "Eh, boy, looky here…"

Now, Kayla wanted to know, "What is it?"

Logan held the letter out to the addressee. "Go on, kid. Fess up."

Eyes rolling, Melissa in turn handed it to Kayla with a disgruntled, "Here."

"We should leave," Maya said lowly.

"No, we shouldn't," Brenda refuted plainly, never taking big brown eyes off the goings on before them.

With every word printed on the paper, the ecstatic illumination in Kayla's countenance magnified. "You- you did it!"

No time for a remotely coherent response occurred as Melissa found herself practically cocooned in the woman's arms. The true surprise came when not even a passing thought of backing away took place.

"Wolverine," Maya took Brenda's hand to step off the stand again, "what are they talking about? What'd she do?"

Looking towards the bewildered teenagers, Logan informed, "Only bagged herself a high school diploma."

"What?" an enthused Brenda all but shouted.

"You got your GED!" Daintily lifting her skirts, Maya hurried over.

Logan watched in full jest at Brenda ascending to the ceiling with cheer before flying forward to join the magnanimous embrace.

Though not entirely sure of the reason behind the jubilance, Kiki climbed out of the wagon. She helped Mira get on her feet as well and kept their hands locked to waddle towards the other females.

IIIIIII

The Xaviers entered the community center shortly after the Carmichaels. They only lacked Clint, who had to go into work earlier that morning. Julie became giddy at the presence of Brian, playing with his Dickon bear. After the women received sufficient time to coo over the one-year-old, they left him with the two older children. As their parents headed for the art room, Joey kept his brother in his lap, but spared one hand for the girl beside them. Laci readily latched onto him, experiencing the undesirable sensation of a doctor's office.

In a flowing summer dress made up of a red-green-blue-gold with matching hairclips. The parents occupied one table with Julie and Emma next to each other and Charles positioned at his wife's right. The Professor had changed his shirt at home for one made of a lighter material in sky blue and the addition of his navy Oxford tie. Emma wore a black and white shimmering skirt and a white crop-sleeved blouse. Julie had on a peach dress with a gray shrug.

Miss Kendall got things underway with a presentation on the Jones-Broderick Academy. She provided images, brochures, and other reading materials for the parents to browse through during her narration.

"I must admit to having very scant entries for this competition," the art teacher disclosed. "Most of the children are on break when the session begins, vacationing with their families, and in all honesty, I believe the work involved for the portfolios left many of them daunted. Still, to have not one but two of my pupils selected from so many outside entries left me on top of the world. With no plans to come down any time soon."

"Don't think for a moment that you have to," Emma encouraged.

"Yes," agreed Charles. "We can recognize that educator's glow. To know our boy is half the reason for it…"

Emma touched her hand to his in a supportive squeeze.

"Canvases, sketches, original designs…" Julie's eyes expanded with every portfolio suggestion listed. "I know Laci's thrown herself into projects this year, but this- all of this." She raised her head with awe clearly present. "She submitted all of this for a single portfolio?"

Miss Kendall nodded in confirmation. "Every spare moment they received. They spent additional time here and countless recesses to get it all in as quickly as they could. Please," she addressed them somewhat imploringly, "understand the pressure they were under and the dedication they showed. I don't care to betray my students' confidence unless it's a matter of urgency."

"Oh yes, I know that," Julie reassured and the Xaviers likewise agreed.

"And that Patrick Hughes is charming on and off stage," Miss Kendall put forth with fond recollection. "From one art teacher to another, we shared the same concern about Laci and Joey being too uncertain to even voice their victories."

Sending a woeful hand through her hair, Julie spoke regretfully. "That doesn't surprise me. Not by a longshot. If we hadn't signed her up for this class, it would be like we never left Manhattan. Laci a medicated hermit at home; an outcast at school…"

With a sympathetic gaze, Miss Kendall brought up, "Joey's social skills used to worry me as well. Since he's always been such a stellar student, I decided if it wasn't broken, I wouldn't dare try to fix it. But it was always the same three days out of the week. Joey comes in, arranges his supplies nice and neat, resumes his work wherever we left off with in-class projects or triple checks that he has his home assignment, never looking up unless I'm speaking, in which case he forgets to blink. During break time, he always stayed in to work until his friend, Cody, started karate here. No fellow art student even registered with him until the day your little girl walked in."

Julie received some conciliation in that. "I can easily start crying when I think about how she was when I picked her up that first day. She couldn't stop going on about the 'really nice, super cool boy with all the fancy supplies' who told her she has the prettiest hair he's ever seen…"

Charles responded with a casual, "Really? That same evening, I heard legend tell of a 'super pretty girl with silver eyes, freckles, and hair like an orange waterfall'."

Laughter took over Julie at the unique description.

Emma gave her a smile. "As shy as he is, nothing can stop our son's forthrightness when he likes what he sees. We couldn't be happier with how they've become such close friends."

"I never thought I would see Laci this happy, period," Julie returned. "Meeting Joey and his friends are more than we could've hoped for."

"That is why I believe it would be in the best interest of them both to attend the summer session together," Miss Kendall continued. "So young yet such serious artists. They really supported each other during this portfolio submission."

Charles leafed through the available information. "The credentials on these instructors alone…" The Professor looked up again. "Meeting Walt Disney. Is it really a possibility?"

"None whatsoever," Miss Kendall answered without hesitation. "Try guarantee."

The quad of adults conversed for several more minutes before dispersing and thanking Miss Kendall for her time.

As they proceeded through the hall, Julie spoke covertly with Emma. "Would you mind letting Laci stay over tonight? After the week Clint's had, I think we need the alone time to discuss this one."

"Busting out the emergency lingerie arsenal?" Emma surmised.

"After a loaded prime rib dinner, he'll want something for dessert," Julie replied coyly.

Charles remained content to feign obviousness all the way back to the children.

"Dada," Brian noticed first.

"Daddy." Leaving the prison of his own mind, Joey peered up. "What happened? What'd Miss Kendall say?"

"Are you mad?" Laci wanted to know.

"Baby," Julie made a path to bring her arms around her petite girl, "of course not. No one's upset with you. Amazed, if anything."

The sheen in Laci's eyes faded. "Really?"

"Yes, really," Julie smiled, playing in her red-orange hair. "Sweetie, I am so proud of you. I can't imagine the hard work you put into that portfolio. Why didn't you tell me when I picked you up the other day? I could've taken you and Joey for ice cream or to the candy store."

Laci went from relieved to forlorn again. "For what? What's the use in celebrating? You know what Daddy's going to say."

"Honey—"

"He won't let me go, Mom!" Laci insisted.

At the raised voice, Charles refrained from intervening, but did give off a look of disapproval.

Julie brought Laci in for a closer hug. "Baby, shh, breathe for me."

Laci held tightly to her mother until she grew lax. "I'm sorry, Mom. But Daddy—"

"Don't you worry about Daddy. Don't you worry about a thing." Julie pried away enough to look into her doubt filled gray eyes. "I'm going to talk to your father as soon as he gets home while you're sleeping over with the Xaviers." Both children reacted ecstatically with Laci even bouncing in place. Brian happily waved an arm in imitation of his brother. Julie gave off a slight shake of her head. "I knew you'd be devastated. We just need to swing by home for your other meds." Julie swayed her daughter's arms a little as she suggested, "With a pitstop at the candy store. I think we could all use the boost." She shifted her gaze to the woman in white. "What do you think, Em?"

Emma agreed with, "I think the day demands it."

Laci leaned in to hug Julie around the neck. "Thanks, Mom."

At his all too silent child, Charles cleared his throat pointedly. "Joey."

Experiencing a metaphorical bop upside his head, Joey left his mental crawlspace. "Thanks, Mummy." He received a tickle to his chin from her.

Satisfied, Charles determined, "We'd best be off." He made a respectful gesture towards the exit. "Ladies."

Laci and Julie's hands remained attached as they began walking with Emma.

"Come here, lamb." Charles accepted Brian from Joey with the ladder immediately effecting his paternal radar. "Joey," he got his eyes up, "I don't believe that's the correct face for such a phenomenal victor." The eleven-year-old mustered up the best smile he could in that instance. "That's an improvement."

Keeping Brian supported with his hip, Charles used his right hand to link with his older boy. Once they made contact with sunlight again, Joey climbed into the back of his mother's Mercedes. He tried to help his father with Brian's car seat.

"Joe," the baby beseeched with blue eyes heavy.

"What's wrong?" Joey inquired at the mood change.

Charles lightened the situation with, "Now, now, there will be no tears after your brother's wonderful news." He removed Brian from the special seat and let him ride in Joey's lap with the seatbelt over both. "Are we all set now?"

Joey nodded and kept fingers laced with the smallest Xavier.

IIIIIII

With a single flick of the wrist, the sheathed dagger rocked into a triple loop towards the ceiling. Launching himself from his bed, Cody seized it and landed in the center of the floor in a battle-ready stance. He shot up and mounted the desk next. Tossing the dagger across the way, he attempted to fling himself faster and harder. Gaining a grin when he made it to the side wall first, the positive expression sunk into a confused frown at his blade floating away from him.

Placing a grip on the handle, Erik, also in X themed exercise attire, watched him from the doorway. "Your speed and accuracy have noticeably improved… somewhat."

Somehow managing not to roll his eyes, Cody said sardonically, "Almost gave me a heart attack, old man. Thought that was gonna be a real compliment for a sec."

Erik informed him, "If it's full praise you seek, you won't earn it letting your weapon fall into an opponent's hands."

Cody instantly scoffed at that. "That's because you flashy power mutants can't do squat without showboatin'."

"Is that so, young man?" Erik casually raised the dagger to study. "In other words, without my magnetism…?"

"That hand of yours would be a trophy in my family's weapon chest," Cody concluded, eyes as dark and foreboding as his tone.

"That's an audacious proposal if I ever heard one." Erik flipped the dagger his way with the simplicity he would a frisbee. He looked on as the boy seized it by merely lifting one arm. "What do you say we put it to the test?"

The bi-racial fledgling appeared clearly intrigued. "One on one? No Magneto magic?"

"One on one," the man confirmed the first question. "None…" He developed a slight smirk. "For the most part."

Cody glanced over to see his widest window go from partially open to fully. Immediately getting the elder's intentions, his expression also became mischievously gleeful. Stepping to the middle of the room, Erik stilled and bent long enough for Cody to attach himself to his back. Rising, the metal wielder broke into a sprint until he reached and dove straight out the window. A wild whoop bellowed from Cody's throat at the rush coupled with the view.

Finding his own delight in the boy's enthusiasm, Erik peered downward at the holler of his name. He formed a wide smile and waved at the two brunette youths below. Tommy dribbled on the basketball court and not too far away, more weapons training took place. Logan reviewed the various tools of ninjutsu with an ever attentive Trav. Though Erik could appreciate the espionage involved in the ancient martial arts, the weaponry being composed of more wood than metal left something to be desired in his opinion. Still, he appreciated the resident Wolverine equipping Trav with something to aide his solely defensive mutation.

When they made it over a clearer section of the backyard, Erik hovered downward. Once they got within three yards or so, Cody took the opportunity to dive into the grass. With a primal countenance forming, he gazed up only to discover his Headmaster vanished.

Since the wizard of metal opted to cloak himself, Cody chose to let his ears and nose take the lead. Darting into the nearby clump of trees, the boy charged through. He shut his eyes to prevent nature's summer exquisiteness from distracting him. Besides, if Erik wanted to remain unseen, Cody doubted if even Frank's x-ray vision would be of much use. Stopping after nearly two minutes of continuous running, the child squatted and hung out his tongue, but kept his eyes sealed. Almost immediately, he felt the shadow over him that his nostrils only confirmed.

Blindly rounding a tree, Cody kept on in an attempt to outrun the scent. Despite his swiftness, the man's aroma lessened, but did not remotely fade. Picking up something from behind, Cody sniffed and leaped for the oak directly in front of him. He reached the halfway point then felt the hairs on his neck stand as the large palm snagged his wrist.

At the wriggling the maneuver produced, Erik hardly blinked. "Lazy today, are we, boy? You've fought going to bed with greater struggle." At the simplistic prey of the dagger attached to the child's holster, he made a pass for it. "Seems you right about one thing. This is far more satisfying without those flashy powers of mine."

"Yeah," Cody used his free foot to kick his chin, "sure is."

The distracting impact caused Erik to release him as well as a growl of Howlett-Creed proportions. "You'll pay for that one, little cat."

Cody responded by continuing his climb without stall until he disappeared amongst the flourishing leaves. Erik pursued him again, but the moment he reached the peak of the massive oak, the blade cut through the air. Inner strength focused entirely on resisting magnetic deflection, he looked on at the dagger's tip missing his backhand by hardly an inch.

Entirely nonchalant, his cool blue eyes met his student's fiery brown. "What's become of that improved accuracy, hm?"

"If you could self-heal, you'd know," Cody replied jaggedly. "Besides," he yanked his dagger from the wood, "if you can disarm, don't harm."

Erik guessed, "Your uncle's tutelage?"

Cody told him, "Mama's."

"Ah, yes." Erik let go of the tree to hover in the air. When he reached for the boy, Cody jumped to make contact with him. Small body secure against his chiseled one, Erik returned them to terra firma, but held onto him. "Joey has a protector's heart and Tommy a warrior's spirit. You, though not much older than they are, have experience that's given you wisdom and foresight. That is why my hand is firmest with you. I need you at your best to help them. And me."

With a face of rare solemnity for the animalistic fledgling, Cody nodded. "Yes, sir."

II

Glad to be unhindered by the sun's rays thanks to the position he chose, Tommy mentally prepped for his fifth free throw in a row. The moment he activated his wrists to launch the ball, the rubber sphere dropped along with the young athlete. Tommy recovered from the out-of-nowhere gravitational assault, only for his mortified bewilderment to be promptly replaced with blazing rage. The chain of a nunchaku bound his ankles together.

An allegedly mystified Trav remained at a careful distance. "Sorry, it slipped."

Steam very nearly exiting his nose, Tommy seethed, "You. Little. Shit-sucker!"

Even with the older boy restrained, Trav still backed away when he moved to lunge.

Ready to rip the chain off, Tommy needed only observe as it unwrapped entirely on its own. "Magneto." He raised elated eyes to the sky.

Shooting his nephew a very pointed side glance, Erik asked of the youth before him, "Are you alright?"

While the Headmaster lowered to inspect his friend, Cody hopped down with purposeful stare directed at Trav. "Now, you've done it." He took the nunchaku by one end to lift it off the ground. "What do you think this is, a jump rope? And Tom's not your test dummy. Wait until my dad gets back."

"Your dad is back," Logan announced himself, causing widened eyes and further steps back on Trav's part. Done refilling Midnight's water dish, he returned to the backyard from a side entrance. "Now, what'd I miss?" Among their household, the Veteran knew the possibilities to be endless.

"We—" Trav attempted to speak first, "um, I was just playing. Let's go clean the weapons, Wolfy."

"Better start with this one." Cody handed his father the nunchaku. "Recently used."

Cocking an eyebrow, Logan sent the youngest one present a no-nonsense look. "You've been out here playin' around with this stuff? Didn't I say wait until I get back?"

Trav defended, "I was practicing my swing."

"This was no boyish roughhousing." Arms around Tommy from behind, Erik further stated, "Even if you lost control of it, there was no probable way that chain coiled Tommy's legs unintentionally. Are you being deceptive, Travis?"

Hearing his entire first name for the second time so soon, Trav claimed, "I wasn't trying to hurt him, Uncle Erik. Not really."

Logan turned to the wizard of metal. "Mind if I take it from here?"

Erik granted that, but told the youngster, "You and I will speak later, young man."

"Yes, Uncle Erik," Trav replied meekly.

Erik then directed, "Come with me, Tommy."

The named child complied and enjoyed Erik keeping him tucked under his arm.

"Cat, get this stuff packed up for me," Logan instructed his son. Cody directed at Trav the briefest self-satisfied glance as he strolled over to collect the weaponry. "Let's go, bug-eyes." When he reached for Trav, Logan's expression stayed even at the little boy recoiling. "You really want to test me right now? If I have to drag you into this house, we're takin' the scenic route through your dad's lab. Then again, we can always wait on your ma to get back…"

Though squeamish at the first pointed suggestion, Trav shook his head repeatedly at the second. "No, Wolfy! I'll go with you."

At the short arms raised in surrender, the grizzly man eased off marginally and plucked him up by his middle.

II

"Thanks for taking my side." Tommy walked into the Mag Cave ahead of its owner. "I don't care how big a brain he is. Trav's an annoying little jerk."

"Tom," Erik sharply admonished, "while you have every right to be upset with him, I don't want to hear any of you children throwing vile insults about." Taking the executive chair behind his desk, he placed Tommy on his right thigh and ensured they faced each other. "Now, I don't mean the sibling ribbing, made artform by Alex and Frank." Tommy's humored face kept the kindness in Erik's eyes, despite the touch of firmness in his voice. "I'm referring to when those words go from fun jabs to cruel remarks or even slurs."

Tommy displayed genuine bewilderment. "But I didn't say anything like that."

"You don't remember what you called Trav only a moment ago?"

Recollection hitting him, Tommy looked at him sheepishly. "You heard that?"

"Clear across the yard." Touching the side of his face, Erik eyed the Irish lad closely. "We've discussed your swearing habit on multiple occasions, including your first stay here."

Expression somewhat pained, Tommy insisted, "It's not my fault. Trav started it. I thought you were on my side!"

"Thomas." Erik tapped the irate youth on his lips. "I am on your side and that remains the case even when you've misbehaved wretchedly. I am on Trav's side in the same way. If one of you is in the wrong, I will not deny it nor will I hesitate to punish you if I must, but never believe me against you."

Trying to resist the building pools in his eyes, Tommy asked contritely, "Are you gonna punish me for letting that word slip?"

Erik countered the question with, "Am I going to punish you for broadcasting that swear louder than your brother's screech?" After appearing thoughtful, Erik fully answered with, "No, but only due to the circumstances behind it. However, if I hear anymore casual "slips" from you at all soon, your tongue will pickle from vinegar right before I make a tomato of your backside."

"Ugh," Tommy frowned in disgust, "you'll make a veggie platter out of me? Way to give a guy nightmares."

Resisting the desire for laughter the child so frequently brought out in him, Erik patted the seat of his running pants. "Boychick, did you hear what I just said?"

"Oh." Tommy straightened his shoulders and made his face as straight as he could. "Yes, sir, sorry. Do I still get to go to Temple with you?"

Eying the youngster dubiously, Erik asserted, "If I dared say no to that, I would wind up over the Creator's knee. And I'm already well overdue there." Tommy snickered and Erik allowed himself a smile. "Now, what do you say to ice cream over a good book? Any you like. Then, later on, we can recruit Alex and Frank for some two-on-two on the basketball court."

Tommy sprung up to send arms around the older male's neck. "I like when you're home."

Returning the embrace tightly, the faint utterance of, "I love when you're home," left Erik's lips.

II

After re-entering the mansion, Logan made a path for the lower level. On their way, he picked up on Trav's combined dread and remorse, even without the tiny fingers clinging to his shirt.

The elder did not speak until they arrived in the range. "Alright, ya little gnat," he brought the seven-year-old to stand on the table, "mind tellin' me how that Big-Mac-brain of yours spilled that much common sense in hardly fifteen minutes?"

"I was practicing my swing…" Trav bit his lip apprehensively. "At first. I wasn't trying to hurt Tommy. I just wanted to see if I could do it without him noticing like I do in training. Lee and Frank say I keep getting better."

"I've been sayin' the same thing, but now I'm wonderin' if you're makin' a liar of me." Logan quickly caught the disheartening effect the statement brought to the boy, but pressed on with the chastisement. "You know the rules around here, Trav; practically got 'em etched in your skull more than the other kids do. You sure as I'm sittin' here know better about foolin' around with weapons. Way worse, goin' after our own for a pathetic prank."

With a glower, Trav retorted, "Tommy's not our own! This isn't his house."

Giving the insolent tyke a cutting look, Logan leaned in until their noses nearly touched. "Do you consider your Grandma Edna one of our own when she's here?" Returned to reality and guilt refilling on his face, Trav nodded. "Uh, you answer me right. Don't act like you don't know how to run that mouth of yours."

Trav piped up, "Grandma's one of our own, Wolf- sir."

"And the same is true about Tom," Logan concluded with no room for disagreement. "Now, you level with me. You're ticked on account of how close he is to Erik, right?"

"Yes, sir," Trav responded diligently but despondently.

Logan reasoned, "Don't you think that's a little unfair? Cody doesn't go around knockin' you off your feet and he's got to share his uncle with all you kids, includin' his new baby brother and sister."

"That's not the same," Trav rationalized. "Kitty loves all of us just because. Uncle Erik likes Tommy because he's good at sports and stuff like the big boys. He even lets him use his swords."

"You're still a gnat," Logan reminded him. "Swords are too big for you right now and your mother would ring your uncle's neck if he let you near 'em. That's why I'm trainin' you in the Japanese weapons. Besides, your powers are better suited for ninjutsu than that samurai stuff."

"Well, yeah, but I don't wanna be an X-Boy anymore," Trav proclaimed, throwing his fists into the air mightily. "I wanna be an X-Man."

Masking the brewing pride and good-natured jest the tiny figure of determination planted in him, Logan took him by the chin. "Hate to break it to ya but you are an X-Boy and I'll tell you somethin' else. Actin' like an X-Brat won't make you an X-Man in any of our eyes, definitely not in your Uncle Erik's. If one of the big guys pulled that stunt you did, they'd be bent over this table gettin' their hides whipped." He noticed Trav paling at the mere thought. "Guess bein' a little guy pays off sometimes, huh?"

"Uh huh," Trav rapidly concurred. "I'm sorry, Wolfy. I don't know what I was thinking being reckless and irresponsible."

"Reckless and irres…" Logan could only shake his head for a moment. "I'm just waitin' on that one full moon that'll completely morph ya into Beast." To no surprise, the idea brought a twinkle to Trav's eyes that the instructor, unfortunately, had to damper. "

"I know all you kids get carried away- I know the feeling- but we grownups have been through the ins and outs of this mutation situation. We have these tight rules about trainin' and the field for a reason."

Trav whispered, "I know."

"Yeah, you do," Logan said, despite his insides growing heavier by the second. He also repeatedly reminded himself that the male urchin before him lacked his own son's age and recovery speed. "C'mere." Logan picked him up again. When he lowered himself into the nearest chair, he returned the fledgling to his feet. "After we're through here, I want you to use that dictionary you got stored in your brain to write me a couple paragraphs on why we have rules and why X-Men don't harm their own. By tomorrow, got me?"

"Yes, sir," came the instantaneous reply.

Silently relieved to have his twins still in the diaper stage, Logan placed Trav over his lap. After ensuring the child's comfort in the unwanted position, he pried his soft shorts and underwear down by their waistbands. With a number in mind, the Veteran's hand flew and did not cease until he applied eight swats to the bare bottom one after the other. Trav yelped on each one and moaned with cries by the fifth. Glad to have only turned the small behind only slightly pink, Logan redressed him, but let him lay there a moment.

"You screw around like this again and it's me and your daddy with your ma to start. You want to test me on that?"

"No, sir!" Trav vowed with his voice cracked.

"Good boy. Yeah," taking him off his lap and into his arms, Logan held him to his front while his strong hand gingerly massaged the thin back, "that's a good bug boy." Unable to exercise his brother's purring gift, the Wolverine nuzzled cheeks with the Beast cub. "What's say you save the waterworks for Sean and Smiley's special flowers?"

Trav formed a sincere, watery smile. "Kay… are you still telling Mommy and Daddy?"

"Yep," Logan confirmed but benignly. "Probably after supper when they've had a chance to take a load off. I'll let 'em know we're all good here, though. You want your Uncle Erik?" Unsurprisingly, Trav shook his head wordlessly. "You could probably use a little shut-eye, anyway. Want to count sheep in my bed?"

"Uh huh. Will you stay with me, Wolfy?"

"Need to keep an eye on you, anyway." Logan stood with him, giving the child's stomach a quick tickle. "You're learnin' ninja naughtiness a little too soon for me."

Trav giggled and relaxed as the man started them out of the range. The warm figure of the cargo Logan presently secured became more and more lax with seemingly every step. Before they reached the second floor, the canine mutant found a dozing cub in his unyielding grasp.

IIIIIII

Compliments of spring/summer weather, the produce display offered a vibrant and plentiful variety. At one stand, Kiki sorted through the melons small enough for her to pick up on her own. As if channeling both Logan and Kayla, she rapped her knuckles and shook them out while holding each selection to her ear. Keeping an arm around her middle, Scott supported the meticulous shopper on his hip. Though he could detect how much brighter the fruits and vegetables appeared, the tinting of his red lenses made it difficult to check for ripeness and overall quality. When Kiki determined the best of the bunch, Scott let her stand and hold onto his pants leg while he handled bagging.

As they moved over to heads of lettuce, his gaze somewhat hypnotically fluttered towards where Becky went through the apples based on color. They almost always purchased red, green, and yellow since their subtle taste differences went with separate recipes. Though the ebony-haired girl made it a rarity to go into town remotely unkempt, she currently wore her X-attire of orchid track pants and fuchsia t-shirt. Granted, the articles looked recently store bought from dryer and ironing board freshness, they remained 'lazy laundry' for shopping in Becky's emerald eyes.

From where she and Raven gathered multiple forms of pasta, Alana peered Becky's direction and wondered of her produce perfectionism, "How many centuries have I been away? When did she figure out kitchen creation is not a fate worse than death?"

With a humored curl of her lips, Raven tilted her head to indicate her little sister-in-law. "She's always loved baking, but Erik made trailblazing pioneers of his kids last year. Beautiful country house, complete with a bumper crop of chores. She still prefers to be Madam Hostess to slaving over a hot stove, but her grandmother's recipes mean a lot to her and Erik."

"I remember." Alana smiled at the recollection. "Frank feels the same way."

Raven casually petitioned, "Lan," while studying the label on a box of lasagna noodles.

The older woman responded with, "Hm?"

"Don't screw with my brother's head or any other part of his anatomy." Reaching for an upper shelf, Raven continued speaking with laidback amicability. "More so, don't confuse or rip apart my Lovebug to the extent that drugs and jumping in front of a motorcycle become a bullet in his brain."

Initially left in silence by the shapeshifter's specific and pointed requests, Alana vowed, "Raven, I did not fly back here as acid rain. Even though I can't begin to blame you for thinking otherwise. But Erik and I have already been over this. Is there something still there? Fortunately or unfortunately, yes, but we are on the same page. Frank comes first."

Fully facing her now, Raven mandated in an even tone, "That better stay planted and stamped in your memory. For both Frank and Erik's sakes. Your feelings are the last rung on the ladder."

With a nod of somber understanding, Alana surmised, "You've been waiting to say all this from the moment you saw me back here, haven't you?"

"Before."

"I have been away," Alana claimed glibly. "I never imagined you growing into a tongue-biter."

"I'm a mother, too," Raven reminded. "There's no room for that bratty little girl seeking attention and antagonizing Emma for existing. Besides… you were in my bridal party, Alana. You were like part of this family. You knew about us; accepted us. I can't stop loving my mother completely, so it's especially hard to write you off. Not that that'll stop me if I have to."

To that, Alana noted, "You've grown more in eighteen months than I have in the last several years."

Both women reacted to the return of their third shopping cart and the one currently pushing it. "I think I rounded up every form of cheese this side of Wisconsin." At least three-fourths of the cart contained ample dairy products and Frank figured, "This should hold our crew over for five, maybe six, minutes."

Raven and Alana regarded him warmly.

The mansion dwellers regrouped and the Eye Scream Team wound up in the condiment aisle.

When their cart accidentally bumped a young blonde woman, Scott quickly assured, "I'm sorry, ma'am."

"Oh, don't worry about it," she dismissed, scanning through the selection near frantically. "Do you guys have any idea where the paprika is? Better yet, what it is."

Frank removed the green cylinder from the second shelf and held it out to her. "Here you go."

"Thank you," she uttered as if he handed her water in the desert, slipping it into the basket she carried. "My fiancé's parents are coming over for dinner and my worth can only be proven with sirloin steak and," catching herself, she said, "I'll stop boring you now."

"That's okay," Frank smiled then looked at Scott. "I'm still trying to piece together this Aseel thing. Hoping Temple helps tonight."

"Why are you probing this so hard?" Scott gathered salt, pepper, and other ingredients from Raven's list.

"Purity, Scott," Frank stated sardonically. "Purity, me; serious water and oil scenario."

"Oh, oil." Recollection hitting her, the female shopper peered left to right. "Olive oil, olive oil…" Without facing the shelf, Frank took hold of the bottle to pass to the ever grateful lady.

Going back to their conversation, Scott brought up, "Forgetting our big field trip to Illinois? I think that alone gets you some Aseel points."

Frank only countered, "Are you forgetting everything I've done since then?"

"No." Scott cast his ruby gaze on him. "I'm just not the one harping on any of it. And by the way, stop acting like you're the only letter X with regrets. We're still the good guys." He noticed the older boy's oddly uncertain posture. "Frank, what's really going on here?"

"Nothing," Frank sighed, crossing his arms.

"Let me rephrase. Spill your guts," Scott inched in on him to stay out of earshot of man, woman, and child, "before I nuke your nuts."

Indecisive about whether to react with hysterical laughter or a dropped jaw, Frank banged shoulders with him. "Geez, Summers. When did you swap airman for sailor?"

"You're not that special, man," Scott informed him glibly. "I can drift into anti-Aseel territory, too. Now, talk to me."

With an expression that appeared to de-age him by several years, Frank explained docilely, "I'm seeing the pattern here, Scott. I'll never be a hundred percent okay with Sean hitting the road. To be honest, I don't know if how even closer we are now makes it better or worse. I'm leap-frogging over high school, I met Jess, now with my mom and Trick being home… what if the blindness sneaks up on me again? Like it did after my thirteenth birthday was the best ever. What if it's something worse? Sean was with me practically every second the last time, keeping me standing."

At that point, Scott chose to interject. "You don't need him, Frank. I'm glad you guys are good again, but you can't depend on flakes. We're not little boys roaming around anymore, scared of our own powers. We're a team, Frank, whatever happens. You've been my eyes to see ever since I came here. I'm willing to be yours in a heartbeat."

Growing thoughtful, Frank softly responded, "Thanks, Cyke."

"Why are their fifty brands of this stuff?" The boys turned to see the woman with two different bottles, holding them as if her hands doubled as a scale of some sort. "War-wart-rory-win…"

"Worcestershire," Frank supplied, starting her way once again. He removed both from her possession. "Yeah, leave these alone. One is basically watered down barbeque sauce and the other is made from melted tire. Here we go." He found the proper sauce for her. "This is certified ambrosia."

"Yes, thank you!" She next inquired, "What goes better with sirloin steak? Baked potatoes or au gratin?"

"Scalloped," Frank answered without indecisiveness. "Loaded. Use cheddar cheese- sharp, not that mild stuff, a couple cloves of garlic- minced, heavy cream, a few diced tomatoes, maybe a little parsley. Serve that with baked asparagus, loose corn, and a loaf of fresh French bread from the bakery over there," he pointed then emphasized, "Make sure you go with red wine. Cabernet or Merlot are your best bets for sirloin."

Highly intrigued, she told him, "My fiancé's father loves Cabernet. Do you have another minute, hon? I could use a hand to navigate these vegetables. They have to be the absolute greatest of the bunch."

"Sure. Here, I'll take this." Frank reached for and took over carrying her basket. He looked at Scott to request, "Let Mom and Rae know I'll be right back," then began walking alongside the woman. "What are you having for dessert?"

She asked in turn, "What do you recommend?"

Leaning on the cart, Scott watched them while slowing shaking his head. As if the other Eye Scream member needed yet another female vying for his affections.

IIIIIII

After Laci gathered everything she needed from her house, she shared another hug with her mother. It surprised Julie not for a moment when her daughter made an eager beeline for Emma's Mercedes. She could almost see the intangible chains falling and shattering with Laci's every enthused step. The red-orange haired girl joined the blond brothers in the back. Her presence gave Joey a slight perk. On the road once more, Charles and Emma exchanged the occasional thought regarding their mostly sedated boy.

"Daddy?"

At the voice of his youngest, Charles looked back from the passenger seat. "Yes, my lamb?"

"Da." Brian presented him with one of the chocolate squares from Joey's treat bag.

Warming within, Charles accepted it, "Thank you, my little love," and popped it right into his mouth. For the sake of his baby's feelings, of course.

"He's always trying to feed the Professor," Laci noticed in amusement.

Joey explained, "He thinks Daddy won't ever be sick again if he eats enough."

Laci sat with traces of despondency in her countenance. "If that worked, I'd gladly weigh a thousand pounds."

"You'd still be crazy pretty," Joey told her.

Catching Laci's glowing reaction in the rearview mirror, Emma sent to her husband, there goes that lethal Charles Xavier charm again.

When Joey received a wink from his father, a genuine smile at last crossed his face.

As soon as Emma pulled into the enormous garage, Laci nearly squealed upon spotting the ones gathered around the X-Van. "Aunt Raven, Aunt Raven!" She looked at Joey in urgency. "We have to tell her. I've been ready to explode over this."

Seeing to Brian, Joey assured, "Right behind ya."

Emma stopped to allow the children out before she continued to her usual space.

"Aunt Raven!"

In her naturally blue guise again, Raven paused from getting the van unloaded. "Hey, Gorge." She dipped to share a quick hug with the barreling little girl.

As they pulled back, Laci kept fingers intertwined with the older redhead. "You will never believe what happened. I still don't believe it. The greatest news in my whole life."

Raven immediately wanted to know, "What, what?"

Still smiling, Laci said, "I can't tell you yet."

Even with the shapeshifter's back turned to her, Becky detected the flat face she formed. Receiving a wealth of memories featuring her three sons, Alana also tried to keep from laughing.

"We're here." Brian in his possession, Joey came to stand next to Laci.

"Now, I can tell you." Laci double-checked that by facing Joey, who nodded for her to begin. Placing eyes back on Raven, Laci announced, "We got in!"

"Whoohoo!" Despite the cry of victory, Raven wondered, "To what?"

"The Jones-Broderick Academy," Laci clarified. "We entered a portfolio contest for their summer program and we're the only winners in Miss Kendall's whole class."

"What?" Raven's energized response echoed throughout the garage and possibly beyond. "Are you serious?"

Joey nodded. "Miss Kendall met with Mum, Dad, and the Carmichaels. That's why we're home so early."

Racing over, Becky asked the younger girl importantly, "Did your folks say it's okay?"

"No." A significant measurement of Laci's enthusiasm faded due to that reality. "Mom's talking to Dad tonight like seriously serious. So, I get to spend the night."

"Then, we get first dibs on celebrating," Raven decided. "Whatever you guys want for dinner is yours. We'll start with ten-foot ice cream sundaes if you want. If Uncle Erik or Hank say anything, they're eating dry celery in the treehouse."

"As decadent as that image is," Alana piped up, "we better move this celebration and the rest of these groceries upstairs."

Heading their way with Emma, Charles directed, "Joey, give Brian to your mother so we can take these packages for the ladies."

"Don't worry," Alana assured. "Frank and Scott already took the bulk of the burden up."

Nonetheless, Joey transferred his brother to Emma's hold. Alana gave him two cloth sacks of easier to handle items while Charles used both arms to carry the pair of doubled paper bags. Despite the load, the Professor still stood back to allow his wife and the other females to ascend ahead of himself and Joey.

He only gave Becky pause when he surmised, I'm going to take a longshot and assume you already knew about this contest.

Becky looked back. Joey may have mentioned it… once or twice. But I only found out they won yesterday.

I see. Tell me, what other details of this household are you privy to that I am not?

Uncle Charles, please. I'll be as old as you by the time I'm done with that list. The head of curls scampered up the steps.

The male telepath pointedly noted, you're awfully sassy when my hands are full.

II

Peering up from where he crouched on his side of the island, Scott launched his attack the moment breathing revealed his opponent. Frank rolled across the floor in a somersault to avoid the orange flung his way. Jumping to his feet, he pulled back his arm and sent out his apple.

Scott easily caught it with both hands. "You call that a pitch? Better stick with basketball; little less complicated."

Frank countered, "Where's all this trash talk when me and Wolves wipe the court with you and Vic, huh?" He dropped to the floor when the apple charged for him.

Urban instincts acting swiftly, Alana snagged the unexpected projectile as she entered. "Have I mentioned how much I've missed this house?"

"Mom." A sheepish Frank lowered closer to the tiles. "… Sweet catch."

"Scott Summers, what do you think you're doing in this kitchen?" Baby on her hip, Emma stepped in fixed him with a reproachful gaze.

Putting on a squeamish smile, Scott offered to the positive, "We put all the food away, Em."

"We were coming right back to help," Frank added. "Just taking a little break."

When Charles came through, he stringently declared, "If you aren't off that floor this instant, I'm going to break your bum."

"Yes, Uncle Charles," the brown-eyed boy complied, scrambling up. "Let me help you with that."

"Me, too," Scott also volunteered.

Charles relinquished the bags to the Eye Screamers with a warning of, "No more horseplay. We have far too much acreage for you to be using our kitchen as a battleground."

"Yes, sir," responded the pair before they started unpacking the remainder of the grocery haul.

Hand in hand with Laci, Raven asked, "Would either of you fearsome warriors happen to know where my daughter went?"

"Hank took her upstairs," Scott answered.

"Come on." Raven glanced between the winning pair. "Let's tell Uncle Hank the great news."

From the second refrigerator, Frank wondered, "What great news?"

Leaving his bags on the table, Joey objected, "Auntie—"

"Lannie!" Ecstatic voice preceding him, Trick soared in through the window without touching the glass.

Upon sight of the transparent man, Laci shrieked and clung to Raven's side.

"Laci!" Joey hurried to her. "No, it's okay. That's Trick, my old art teacher."

"Oh…" Completely shamefaced, the girl looked away. "I'm sorry…"

Raven knelt to envelope her. "Oh, Gorge, no. Don't be sorry."

"You didn't do anything, Laci." A perturbed Scott then seethed to the recent arrival, "She's on heart medication. You can't just ghost-glide in here."

"Trick, we have friends from town over sometimes," Becky emphasized.

Alana shook her head. "Leave the country for a while and they start letting any normal riffraff in."

Wind all but gone from his metaphorical sails, the now fully solid Trick took to one knew. "I'm so sorry. My excitement got ahead of my brain- not for the first nor last time I'm certain. So, you're the one and only Laci Carmichael, I presume?" She nodded quietly. "Seems our Joey was right on the ball. You're truly a work of art, lass."

Her features calmed and brightened a bit. "Thank you." She indicated the window. "How did you do that?"

"Not quite sure," Trick admitted. "The good Prof's tried making sense of it to me, but I've never been the most attentive student." He extended his right hand to her.

When Laci offered hers in turn, she stilled in awe as it went straight through his larger appendage. "That is too cool," she uttered in a gleeful hush.

Joey said unreservedly, "Told you he was."

Ruby shades or none, Becky automatically detected Scott's rolling eyes.

Alana returned attention to, "You rang, Slick Trick?"

"Ah, yes." Standing, Trick eagerly informed, "It's here."

"Already?" Alana reacted in amazement. "I thought they said mid-evening at earliest."

"That's why I went ahead with the pickup," Trick told her.

Alana eyed him in disbelief. "You trekked that far through Jersey?"

"Yes, and let us never speak of it again," Trick requested only half-jokingly.

"Frank," Alana started to address then wondered, "Where's Erik?"

"He's already out back." Trick gestured around the room. "Quick, lads and ladies."

"You all go ahead," Emma put forth. "I'll see to the groceries."

"Me, too," concurred Scott.

"Trust me, boyo, you'll want to see this," Trick guaranteed.

Charles walked over to squeeze Scott's shoulder. "Perhaps a quick peek?"

Scott sighed, but followed the rest of the interested herd.

When the group of nine reached the rear grounds, they found Erik, Logan, Alex, Leon, and Victor present. The three along with those who joined paid absolute notice to the extravagant machines, both adorned with giant red bows. Frank in particular proved fixated on the one towards the left. In scarlet and silver, the elaborate vehicle appeared to sparkle under the generous sunshine.

"…. No, no, no," entirely entranced, Frank seemed to go catatonic, "no way on God's green is this real."

Alana quipped, "Considering the amount of green that went into purchasing it, it better be."

Frank turned to her, entirely awestruck. "Mom, are you serious? I thought all the new threads you got me were my present."

Alana told him, "No, those were just to ensure you didn't look like a complete doofus while driving this monstrosity."

Frank sped into her arms. "Oh, my God, Mom, thank you! You are dynamite!"

An astonished Laci whispered to Joey, "Is there any mom on Earth that cool?"

The blonde boy brought up, "Mine got me a horse."

At that piece of truth, Laci nodded her agreement.

Alana smiled as she informed, "A few of those fireworks belong to your dad." She looked Erik's way. "He paid half and did the most research. To an obsessive degree."

Frank started to react until the slick maroon helmet knighted him. He raised the eye shield, looking to the metal wielding man.

"Neglect to wear that even once," Erik warned, "and you'll be searching for a backside donor."

Leon tacked on, "Among other body parts if Aunt Em finds out."

Only grinning over the oddly endearing threat, Frank ran to hug him next. "I'll glue it on if you want me to. Thanks, Dad."

"What's he supposed to do with the blue one?" Raven said of the second scooter. "Mix and match?"

Almost forgetting that one, Alana cheerfully informed the other teenager present, "That one's all yours, Scott."

Eyes ready to burst through his lenses and mouth nearly foaming, Scott released something along the lines of an enthused battle cry. "Oh. Yeah!" He almost fell over his own feet rushing to throw arms around the vehicle as if meeting a long-lost love. "Thank you, Aunt Alana." He gave the oldest Headmaster a smile. "Thanks so much, Erik."

Alex commented, "Pretty cool, Eyeball Boys. Bet Hank will modify these things to the max for you guys."
Raven piped up, "When he's done doublechecking all of Erik's doublechecking."

"Cool, maybe we can work on them tonight," Scott proposed, half-speaking to Frank also. "Put our own footprints on them. Rebecca, come on." He waved her over. "We are so test-driving this thing." He looked around at the older motor owners. "Can one of you loan us a spare helmet?"

Pained to have to damper the current mood, Charles still halted things with, "Hold on a moment," receiving full attention from them all, particularly from the now panicked Eye Scream Team. "Erik," the Professor addressed, "you never said anything about getting one for Scott as well. He's only thirteen."

"So?" Scott protested brazenly. "I'm just as tall as Frank and nearly in his weight class. And I have the highest marks in the flight simulator. Besides, I'll be fourteen in like a couple months, anyway."

"You will be fourteen in three months." Charles further refuted, "All of which is completely irrelevant to you operating this machine. State law does not have an "almost" exception."

Huffiness rising by the second, Scott turned to the leonine mutant elder. "Vic, tell him I'm old enough to handle it."

"Tell him?" Victor echoed, raising an eyebrow. "Uh, no. You're old enough to know better than to try to play that card. This bike I'm not so sure about."

"Look, Slim," Logan interjected calmly, "I get you're excited, but don't make a stink about this. Your birthday's just a few months off. We can show you the motor ropes until you can ride into town with it."

Despite the offer, Scott insisted, "But Erik bought it for me to use now."

"Actually," the Poland native spoke when given the chance, "I didn't buy yours." He then floated his gaze over towards the musician among them.

With a wide smile, Trick said, "Figured you'd appreciate an Italian bike over a few souvenir postcards from my travels."

Expression going from stubborn to very rapidly irate, Scott stepped back from the scooter as if cobras surrounded the metallic body. "Hope you kept the receipt. If not, you can shove it." He stalked off towards the house with that.

While most of the males summoned him back with various degrees of firmness in their tones, Becky moved to catch up with him. Scott, wait for me. He slowed so she could attach to his arm.

Frank left his own bike to follow them, giving Trick a half-sympathetic headshake. "Blew it big, man."

"Scott, wait, please." To get ahead of the departing youngsters, Trick flew through them. On his feet again, he made himself solid. "I didn't mean anything. I only wanted to make amends, prove that no matter where I journey, I haven't forgotten you. Just look at it," he emphasized the bike, "custom air force blue—"

"Oh, would you give it a rest already?" Scott spat in sheer aggravation. "This is so beyond pathetic, I actually feel a little sorry for you. Look, Trick, you may have Sean, Angel, and just about every other kid around here with your hip-cat-crap, but you don't impress me for a second. You float back here as you please with that same tired "cool dad" routine, knowing good and well you were never our father. You're just a deadbeat who let one family fall apart, only to up and bail on the second one as soon as you and your weak daughter decided the X-Men had too many expectations for a couple flakes to handle."

Averting eyes from Trick's crumbled countenance, Frank took the younger Eye Scream member's spare arm. "Scott, let's just go. It's not worth it."

Still, Scott jabbed a finger at the ash blonde mutant, "As soon as Maya's wedding is over, you better steer clear of me."

Becky kept her focus forward as she helped Frank guide the enraged boy along.

When both Victor and Alex took a step, Charles raised his palms and shook his head to halt them. At his friend jogging his way, Trick started to reach for him imploringly then looked on as the telepath continued for the mansion. Before he could collapse in place, Alana made a hastened path to offer Trick her embrace.

Inside, the three teenagers stopped in the foyer at the commanding tone of the Professor.

"Franklin, Rebecca, run along while I speak with Scott."

Becky attempted to refute, "Uncle Charles—"

Trust me. Out loud, he directed, "To your rooms or your father's den. Go on, now."

Sharing a look with each other as well as Scott, Frank and Becky solemnly headed for the Mag Cave.

Turning and raising his eyes without instruction, Scott put forth, "I'm sorry for speaking disrespectfully, but only to you, Charles. I know how ticked you are at me, but I can't feel sorry about Trick. Do you want me to, um," the stoic boy could not suppress his apprehensive waves entirely, "wait in your office?"

Charles responded by extending one hand. Confused by it but being mindful of the man's lead, Scott joined appendages with him. Starting for his study, Charles held tightly to him. Once inside, he all but yanked the near-shaking child into his unwavering arms.

Alright now?

… I don't know.

At the sincere admittance, Charles walked them to the sofa, where he sat with the steadily growing boy in his lap.

Sensing the youth's mental fatigue, he addressed him verbally. "I'm not angry with you, Scott. Even before this, I wasn't trying to spoil things with your new scooter. I was only concerned about your welfare and safety."

"I didn't mean to mouth off like that," Scott said in turn. "I guess… I guess after seeing Alex and Lee's whole new room remodels, now Frank getting his own phone… I was just so excited about that bike."

"I can understand that," Charles spoke gently. "If you really want to keep it, I could buy it from Trick and we can do as Logan suggested with the private lessons until your birthday. Emma and I will discuss it."

"No, Charles." Scott shook his head hard. "Trick still picked it out and I don't want to think about him."

"You've really been holding this in, haven't you?"

"Yes," the shades-adorned fledgling whispered. "At least Aunt Alana went to help Linny, but no one can tell me Trick did anything but run with Jasmine. Frank went through all this misery because of them and it almost came between us completely. Then, when he's finally doing good, 'guess who' has the nerve to breeze back in. Too shocked he didn't bring Jasmine along to make trouble for Frank and Jessie." He let off a tired sigh. "I'm sorry, Charles. I know he's your best friend, but…"

Charles tapped Scott on the chin before pointing out, "And Frank is yours in addition to being your partner, teammate, and true brethren."

"Like you and Erik."

The Professor laughed fondly at that. "We should be so flattered. But I meant it when I said I'm not angry with you. You're such a good, kind, well-mannered young man, Scott. I also partly blame myself and my Westchester resident ways for your outburst."

An entirely puzzled Scott uttered, "Huh?"

"When I found Alana and Trick here, I only wanted to slaughter the fattest calf and celebrate their "homecoming"," Charles explained. "As if I could sweep those insignificant little details of residual pain and anger under the rug. We have so much change ahead, I suppose I wanted to cling to the past and relish in the present."

"I tried relishing," Scott sympathized, "but I just wanted to slaughter something the whole time."

In a deep hush, Charles replied, "I know, baby," and stroked the brown hair of a shade darker than his own. His eyes changing somewhat, he pecked Scott's forehead. "Listen, son," Charles stood him, but kept their hands together to talk to him, "I have to run out for a while and I'll likely miss dinner. Could you let the others know? You and I will resume things when I get in, alright?"

"Alright," Scott agreed.

With another hug, Charles requested, "Start with Rebecca and Frank, please. I want them to see you in one-piece."

Genuine amusement crossed the young Cyclops' face. "Ten-four."

Trying quite unsuccessfully to hide how adorable he found the militaristic mannerisms, Charles tweaked his nose as he took leave of his work space.

II

Due to the discomfort left in the backyard along with Raven exhibiting disdain for the "adult atmosphere", she and Leon ushered Joey and Laci inside for snack options. Alex went to his Hovel to prepare a potentially needed ice bag for his brother. The remaining elders made their way into the parlor. Trick went straight to the nearest loveseat to plop down and gaze upon the ceiling with frustrated weariness.

"Why did I go the original route and highlight the air force?" he lamented while Alana perched on the arm of the sofa to massage his shoulders. "Should've followed my first mind and tracked down Adam to present the cac bike."

"That mook you booked for Slim's birthday that time?" Logan remembered. "He's still doin' kid gigs?"

"How should I know?" Trick folded his arms in annoyance. "He's been impossible to reach ever since he started obsessing over an audition for… I don't know, some television show ABC's cooking up for next year."

"Patrick." Erik's use of the name came out as somewhat amused disbelief as the metal wielder approached. "Presentation? You honestly think presentation is where you went wrong out there?"

With mild exasperation, Alana requested, "Erik, please, don't start right now."

The Poland native directly countered her with, "Coddle him all you like, I've held my tongue long enough." His keen blue eyes zeroed in on the youngest adult. "Because I saw this coming. Every bit of the fallout. I don't know what you must have been thinking, buying something like that for Scott."

"And here we go with the All-Holy Headmaster Lehnsherr," Trick stated with an eyeroll. "A scooter for a thirteen-year-old is an out-of-the-question extravagance as opposed to entrusting a couple of college lads with infinitely more dangerous motorcycles."

"Motorcycles I thoroughly researched and tested a thousand times over before ever handing either of my sons the keys," Erik came back with. "And as with Frank's, they were gifts, not pitifully blatant bribes."

Sitting up, Trick insisted, "I only wanted to set things right with Scott; with all of them."

"If you thought a shiny new toy would give Scott a convenient case of anger amnesia, you've moved from shortsighted to completely delusional." Erik continued, despite the clear impact on Trick's face. "Scott is not the twelve-year-old you once taught yet clearly never comprehended. Even then, he never would have accepted it. You tried to buy his integrity and paid a much higher price."

With a heavily grim expression, Trick summoned his transparent form. He flew from the couch and right through the ceiling.

Giving Erik a shared quiet look, Victor started out to locate the Specter.

Once the room dwindled down to the two of them, Alana came to stand directly before the Headmaster. "You may be right to a certain but horribly insufferable degree, but attempt to crush him that way again," she helped herself to two fistfuls of his shirt, "and I'll slug you clean back to Ellis Island."

Provocatively seizing her shoulders in turn, Erik responded, "Big sister sentiment acknowledged and respected. A Headmaster I am, Alana, not the schoolyard bully. Whatever time away, Trick is my family, too and will be treated as such. I am still Erik."

"Really?" Alana used her hands to keep a gap between them, but did not recoil otherwise. "Good to know this rapid heartbeat and gelatin knees aren't flu symptoms." She detached from his touch and headed away from the parlor.

IIIIIII

"Bueno?"
"Hola, chica," Becky returned the greeting. "I've been trying to reach you."

"Sorry, we were in the city at Jack's vet."

"Why do you guys go all the way out there, anyway? There's two in Salem alone."

"Do you know what Papi spent finding a purebred in perfect health like Jack?" Anne reminded. "Everything he gets is deluxe. I don't know who's more obsessed with him, Max or Papi."

Becky giggled lightly. "Trav would swap lives with Max any day."

"That's what he thinks," Anne said half to herself. "What's up?"

"A missing best friend," Becky brought up pointedly. "Why weren't you in my house for my brother's ridiculous party? Ashley and the older cheerleaders were there."

"I just lost the mood, Becky," Anne claimed.

Becky surmised, "You miss Gary?"

"Doesn't matter," Anne dismissed. "Even if he was there, it would be just like the games. All the people in the world around us won't block my brother's line of sight for a minute. Everywhere we go, everything we do, he acts like my sitter."

"Hey, how many big brothers do I have?" Becky commiserated. "Even Frank acts weird about my makeup. I'm all petticoat dresses, teddy bear tea parties, and all-night marble tournaments to him. Like he hasn't changed. Mr. Don Juan, too weird." She frowned, believing their connection lost. "Annie?"

"… Si, yeah," the other telepathic girl spoke again. "I need to head off, Bex. My head hasn't been so great the last couple days. I don't think the city helped."

Becky mentioned, "My aunt thinks maybe your powers are adjusting to "rejoining society', you know? Going to regular school with normal kids plus cheering. I'm not getting it as bad because I had dance and the squad to ease me in. Auntie Em dealt with the same thing. She calls it the difference between brushing past meaningless minds and touching, connecting with people you really care about."

Anne's tone came off nearly amused as she glibly informed, "That's a really short list, Bex. You're basically the main one."

"Glad I made the cut."

"Same here. Bye."

Once the conversation concluded, Becky left her aunt and uncle's quarters to head for her own.

Already in the sweet-scented, ultra-feminine space, Laci sorted through her medicinal militia. "Hey, is Scott okay?"

"Yeah, now," Becky answered, going to her vanity. "He's with Auntie Em. Sorry you had to see that. Scott's usually so level-headed and easygoing," she began applying the eyeshadow to match her sleeveless robin's blue dress, "but when the fuse gets lit, you better steer clear of the boom."

"Forget the backyard." Laci sat on the edge of the bedside. "I thought Scott was going to blast Trick across the solar system."

"He wouldn't do that." Becky double-checked the clasp of her never-sever bracelet. "Not before the wedding."

With something of an impish smile, Laci eyed the yard-tall beige three-drawer wicker container. "Wow, Becky, this is really pretty. It looks hand-woven."

Seeing what she meant out of the corner of her eye, Becky confirmed, "It is. It's from a village in Kenya. My aunt and uncle got it for me on their last antiquing trip. It's all yours."

Laci darted eyes her way. "What?"

Finished attaching her second silver stud to her ear, Becky encouraged, "Look inside."

Starting at the top, true wonderment detailed Laci's face. She found neatly folded shirts, skirts and other bottom clothing in the second, and the third contained new socks and unmentionables.

"You got all of this for me."

"Some are things you left here before," Becky explained. "A few I've outgrown, impulse grabs from shopping with Auntie Em, and Aunt Dri gets samples from her clients. You spend so much time over here, it's already like we share a room."

A gleeful Laci hurried to hug her in a way that almost resulted in tackling.

II

Despite the extreme faintness of the knock coupled with his preoccupation of polishing his caramel wingtips, the metal wielder responded, "Open to the daring."

After a slow twist of the doorknob, the brown-eyed boy peeked into the suite. "… Hi, Uncle Erik."

"Travis Xavier McCoy," Erik raised his head, "get in here and stop acting as if you have a timid bone in your body."

Entering fully at the unconventional invitation, Trav made a remorseful path for him. "I'm sorry I messed with the weapons and tripped Tommy on purpose. I wasn't really thinking about it when I did it. But I won't do it again. Promise, Uncle Erik."

"That's one promise I'll be holding you to, Valiant," Erik said crucially then brought up, "Wolverine tells me you behaved very well during your punishment. I'm pleased that you do understand why what you did was unacceptable." His expression became noticeably severe. "And I will have no more of it. I don't expect for you and Tommy to become the best of friends, but you will both be civil towards each other. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir, Uncle Erik," Trav saluted.

"Good then. Now," he brought the small boy to sit on his right thigh, "I want you to be absolutely honest with me about something, alright?" Trav nodded. "Are you upset because I spend so much time with Tommy?"

"Mmhmm." Trav played with the cuff of Erik's pale blue dress shirt.

"Do you believe I love him more than I do you?" When more bizarre silence dominated the room, Erik spoke tenderly into his ear. "Please answer Uncle, Valiant."

"I don't know," Trav replied as truthfully as he could.

Accepting that for now, Erik then wanted to know, "Why would you think that, even for a moment? When Leon joined our family and the babies were born, they didn't change anything between us, did they?"

"No," Trav knew, "but you do a whole lot of big boy stuff with Tommy. He's not even a mutant, but he's better at training than me. And he's fast and good at sports like you and Daddy. I can't keep up and when I try to be the best in school, everybody just thinks I'm gonna make myself sick again. When I feel like I wanna throw up, I do something bad and it goes away for a while."

Following the child's words, Erik recalled, "Like tripping Tommy on the basketball court?"

"Uh huh. You should've seen him making all those baskets like it was nothing. It's weird 'cause I liked watching him 'cause it looked so cool, but I wanted him to miss, too."

Comprehending, Erik said, "I know such different feelings going on at the same time are extremely difficult to understand. It's difficult at my age, so it's all the harder for you. Were you feeling sick right before you swung the nunchaku?"

"My stomach wasn't hurting," Trav attempted to detail. "It was that sorta icky rumble like when it's gonna start soon. I know it was bad, but I felt better when Tommy fell. When I saw you, I was glad, but it was so crazy 'cause I was scared, too."

Grateful the child could not see the worry lines he developed at that, Erik inquired, "Were you afraid I would punish you? That I would really hurt you?"

Trav shook his head. "When you punish me, I just get sad and cry. I was scared you'd be so mad, you'd make me go inside 'cause you don't want me near you."

Repositioning the smaller body so that they faced each other, Erik asked in near urgency, "Have I ever done anything to make you feel I would react that way? Anything at all? Keep being honest with me, Valiant."

Trav journeyed as far back as he could into his own mind and determined, "No, Uncle Erik. I don't know why I get scared like that sometimes. You always put me on your shoulders or carry me when we go someplace. I get a fussing out if I let go of your hand in a store without asking."

"Yes," Erik spoke with a shameless shark grin in place. He raised Trav into the air a few inches. "And that is due to my fear. Do you remember what I told you it was?"

"Losing any of us," Trav answered uninhibitedly. "'Cause we're your life now."

"You are… unfortunately for you." Erik lowered him to lightly nip at the youth's unsuspecting neck.

"Uncle Erik!" The squirming boy rumbled with giggles.

Ending the infantile torture, Erik stood, keeping his nephew near to his chest. "Uncle Erik won't stay for long at Temple. I'm going to have a word with your mommy and daddy later, but for now, let's go see Leon, hm?"

"Mmhmm," Trav agreed, settling his head against the strong shoulder with short arms secured around the stalwart elder's neck.

IIIIIII

The rich colors that indicated sunset vastly approaching became obstructed by pale gray clouds knitting together. From the overhead formation, snow fell at such a thick, rapid rate that it blanketed the green grass in under a minute. Sharp winds cut through next and the atmosphere howled. Amidst the sea of white, the figure donned in the same shade trekked steadily. The unusual, full body attire covered him from head to toe. The only non-ivory element to the ensemble and environment in general came in the form of the ruby visor made into the headgear. He foraged along, even when the snow neared the top of his boots.

When he did stop, he made himself entirely rigid. Only the wind accounted for sound in the disconcerting silence. Veering around suddenly, the optic blast charged from the visor and left the cardboard assailant in jagged chunks. The young mutant repeated the act again and again as the artificial threats popped seemingly out of nowhere. Through them all, he managed not to miss the sole one not only animated but wielding a firearm.

Leaping over his slain targets, he took off across the field. The minute beams of red indicated him as the gun's one and only target. Moving sporadically now, he dashed from side to side in addition to performing various flips to avoid the unrelenting weapon. He got the chance to look back, discovering his lack of attacker until he detected another shadow. Facing forward, he raised his head to see the other white-adorned figure lunging for him with gun ready. Going into as high a jump as he could, he released a blast that zeroed in on and shot the gun out of its owner's grip.

After they both landed on ground level again, the snow appeared to evaporate in a breath. The thick green grass reappeared, the winds faded into a gentle breeze in the warm surroundings, and the clouds vanished.

"Emma," Scott looked at the woman who retrieved her fallen weapon, "that was so boss! As dynamite as Rebecca's illusions can get, I swear I thought you transported us back to Alaska."

"Good." Emma removed her head covering, shaking out her formerly confined blonde tresses. "If I can't improve myself, I'm entirely worthless to you. And on that particular note," she touched the left sleeve of her outfit, "I have to commend Hank's updates on the stealth suits." She asked the boy before her, "How's that visor? Any trouble adjusting?"

"My eyes always have to get used to this stuff, but I like it," Scott answered favorably. "It's not as thick as my others. Maybe Hank thinks I'm gaining control. Even a little."

"While not an impossibility," Emma spoke gently but frankly, "you have to remember that an injury is what caused your mutation to develop so volatilely. It has nothing to do with your self-control or lack of effort on your part."

"Easier said than remembered." Scott also quipped, "You can read me on opposite ends of the planet, can't you?"

"Milky Way," she informed before pressing on to, "What setting would you like next?"

Scott glanced side to side. "You're sure no one else is around? Not even a passing pick-up?"

Emma told him, "That wouldn't be your concern even if an entire fleet compromised our position. And they would have far greater reason to fear us than the other way around. Your objective is to stay alive. Now, answer my question, please."

The compliant boy finally requested, "Snow again. On mountains this time. Like up in the Rockies."

Selection specified, Emma set about reshaping their area of the world to their preference.

IIIIIII

A considerable and steady turnout flocked into the Mount Westchester Messianic Temple. The attendees from the Xavier Mansion managed to obtain their regular pew. Becky's lack of desire for service tardiness and Angel not wanting the mortification of interrupting her boyfriend's father's speaking by creeping in like a garden snake aided in their promptness. As soon as Erik took to the righthand side of the pew, Tommy seized his lap space and immediately felt the man's arms wind around his thin middle. The rest of the pew consisted of Becky, Angel, Sean, Frank, and Alana as the far left adult bookend.

Angel's gaze made a direct path for Ben, who sat on stage among his mother and siblings. They shared a particularly happy wave while Becky, Sean, and Frank acknowledged Sylvia, Josh, Megan, and Rachel. Turning his head in the direction of the teenage mutants, Tommy noticed the highlighting effect the classic light fixtures gave Angel. The beaming girl wore a maroon skirt with a pattern of pale pink flowers circling the hem. Her scoop-neck blouse matched the flowers.

To his brother sneaking fingers into his housemate's dark hair, Sean hissed, "Tom, knock it off."

Frank caught Tommy's enchanted expression and tried to withhold laughter.

Having reacted to the unexpected caressing with more curiosity than anything, Angel assured, "He's fine, Sean."

Still, Tommy retracted his hand somewhat sheepishly.

Erik found adorability in his youngsters' quiet antics. "Must always ask a lady's permission first, boychick."

Tommy nodded and sat up straighter on the metal wielder's legs.

Developing a small smile over the two of them, Alana kept her gaze either forward or in her copy of King James.

The chatter among the gathered came to an end when Chad stepped up behind the podium. "Erev tov, brider aun shvester."

"Erov tov," the congregation chorused.

Noticing Tommy's confusion, Becky translated, good evening, brothers and sisters.

Oh. Tommy then felt the need to reiterate, "Erov tov!"

The abrupt broadcast slightly startled those around them until good-natured chuckling resulted. Sean stared heavenly, shaking his head.

The Rabbi responded to the burst of enthusiasm with, "Glad to know somebody's awake out there. And since I won't be doing most of the talking tonight, there's a real chance it'll stay that way." Through their amusement, Chad went on with, "I tell you, people, with the weather outside divinity-in-the-making and the coast so inviting, I really am honored to have so many of you crazy enough to stay cooped up in here with me. I mean, seriously, the Catholic attendees alone have me ready to bust out the streamers. I remember a time when Catholics refused so much as a dime from me; didn't want me within a hundred miles of their businesses. But so much has changed since then. Now, they don't want me within a hundred miles of their businesses because I'm aggravating. After all these years, to be disliked for who I really am inside…" He forced a strain in his voice. "… Okay, I need a moment." Between the echoing laughter, Chad managed to introduce, "I'm now going to turn things over to my son and no, not this yutz," he used his thumb to point out Ben, "I'm talking about my little man, Josh." Chad gestured at his youngest boy. "Get over here, snoockums."

Applauding along with the rest, Alana noticed Sean's glowing glee.

Realizing himself, the male redhead whispered, "Josh talking is lightning in a bottle."

Once he detached from his chair, the yarmulke-crowned boy reached for Megan. She linked and stood with him. Megan maneuvered in a short-sleeved plum dress with collar; waist belt, tights, and shoes all in black. A cross-star clip pulled back a portion of her light brown hair. In periwinkle dress shirt and raisin slacks, Josh made room for them both at the podium.

He greeted, "Shalom, brider."

When Becky clarified that one as hello, brethren, Tommy stayed even in tone with everyone who returned it.

"For this evening's prayer," Josh began, "I would actually like the pleasure of singing it to you. I'll be vocalizing in its original Hebrew while my sister, Megan, leads it in English recitation. Mom?"

At her cue, Sylvia moved to provide the instrumental at the piano.

Josh inched away to offer Megan the microphone. When the two Braunstein children got into position and bowed their heads, everyone present did likewise. The piano keys filled the worship space until the adolescent voices piped up.

Yehi ratzon milefanecha Ado-nai Eloh-einu veilohei avoseinu shetolicheinu leshalom vesatzideinu leshalom vesadricheinu leshalom vesismecheinu leshalom vesagi'einu limechoz cheftzeinu lechaim ulesimchah uleshalom vesatzileinu mikaf kol oyeiv ve'oreiv velistim vechayos ra'os baderech umikol puraniyos hamisragshos uva'os le'olam vesishlach berachah bechol ma'aseh yadeinu vesitneini lechein ulechesed ulerachamim be'einecha uveinei chol ro'einu vesigmeleinu chasadim tovim vesishma kol tefilaseinu ki Atah shomei'ah tefilas kol peh. Baruch Atah Ado-nai shomei'ah tefilah

"May it be Your will, G-d, our G-d and the G-d of our fathers, that You should lead us in peace and direct our steps in peace, and guide us in peace, and support us in peace, and cause us to reach our destination in life, joy, and peace. Save us from every enemy and ambush, from robbers and wild beasts on the trip, and from all kinds of punishments that rage and come to the world. May You confer blessing upon the work of our hands and grant us grace, kindness, and mercy in Your eyes and in the eyes of all who see us, and bestow upon us abundant kindness and hearken to the voice of our prayer, for You hear the prayers of all. Blessed are You G-d, who hearkens to prayer. Amen."

"Amen!"

With a bob of her head, Megan turned to go back to her seat, but remained when she felt her brother grasp her hand again.

Their attachment solidified, Josh focused on the multitude that faced them. "I know a lot of you are wondering why I'm standing in my father's place when it is my older brother, Ben, training to do so. I've only done this when I have something to say. With so many of our brothers and sisters leaving for college soon, I was inspired to talk about the Good Samaritan. Many take away from that parable that you should watch the way you treat people or that you never know when an enemy could become your greatest ally. That's true and all, but there's something bigger I always took from it that no one really talks about. That you need to be careful not to only depend on your allies; your "kind". There's so much going on in the news and on television about brotherhood, unity, pride, and standing together. Words like that get people's attention, but a lot of the time, that's all they are. Just empty words to get people fired up."

Tommy leaned forward intently and gripped the back of the pew in front of them. Glances exchanged between Sean, Angel, Frank, and Becky. Erik and Alana's eyes met briefly as well.

"As most of you know," continued Josh, "Megan, Mom, and I weren't born Jewish. Or Braunsteins. The man whose name we carried, who promised us the moon and stars, left us. He left us with nothing. Things got so bad, we were nearly homeless and raiding food pantries."

At the tension he felt radiating throughout Sylvia's entire form, Chad brought his hand to his wife's wrist. She squeezed his fingers in turn.

"When I was four and Meg was three, the neighborhood church sponsored a huge food drive. Even with all the donations, they never expected so many people coming in droves. Meg was crying because she was scared and Mom could hardly hold her because she was too tired from her cleaning job. We were hungry and I just wanted to get us some food. I got lost from them, but all I could think about was making it to this one table loaded down with stuff. I fell over and my glasses flew off. People walked right by me and a couple almost stepped on me. Before my glasses got crushed, a bigger boy grabbed them and a man grabbed me. He'd been helping my mom look for me and he brought me back to her. The boy wiped my glasses off and put them on me. The man told my mom to stay put with us kids while he collected more food. His son fed us from the fruit they already grabbed. We didn't recognize them at all and he explained he and his dad were trying to keep their heads down. They didn't want to be turned away for being Jewish. I had no clue what that meant." Josh regarded them all with an enthused glint in his eyes. Meg came closer to hug him from the side. "Just like I had no clue I was talking to our real dad and that I finally had a brother."

Alana turned her head to see Frank getting his comfortable against Sean's shoulder.

IIIIIII

Finished speaking with the fellow matrons of the Mothers Council, Sylvia reacted to the hand in hand pair that ventured into the children's room. The blonde woman walked across the carpeted floor to address two of the Xavier Mansion youngsters.

"Angel, sweetie."

"Hi, Mrs. B," the girl returned, swapping cheek kisses. Having admired the lady's violet pencil all through the service, the young model commended, "You look too fabulous."

"Coming from one born that way, I almost believe it." To Tommy, Sylvia said, "You must be my son's latest competition."

Tommy stated, "Everybody says that about me now. Even Danny Thomas when I was with Maya."

"Danny Thomas?" In disbelief, Sylvia faced Angel again. "Maya knows… from the TV?"

Angel nodded. "Through her almost-husband. Sean opened for him a couple nights ago."

"Lord, hold my heart," Sylvia uttered with amazement. "You kids haven't set so much as a toe on campus and you're already making names for yourselves. Hey, that reminds me," she remembered next, "Ben says you're looking into going Greek."

"Arabian, actually," Angel clarified. "It's called the Scheherazade House. They're having this info session my family's checking out tomorrow. I still can't believe they sent me a gift basket?"

The older woman's eyes pooled with intrigue. "Really?"

While they continued speaking, Tommy let go of Angel to investigate the nearby three-tier bookshelf. He scanned the spines and some of the covers, but most of them featured extremely cartoony figures from scripture.

"Hey."

Tommy turned to the right at the girl who strolled his way. "Oh, hey. You're Rachel, right?"

"Yep," the youngest Braunstein confirmed. "And you're Tommy, aren't you? Sean's brother?"

"Lucky for him," the boy quipped. "I loved hearing about your folks, even though it started off really sad. Were you around for any of that?"

Rachel shook her head. "It took a while for them to get on their feet, but things were a little better by the time I was born. I don't remember anything about the bills going off or not having enough food." She placed attention on the bookcase. "Baby stuff, right?"

"You said it," Tommy concurred, sliding a pop-up version of the Ten Commandments back into place.

"Look over here." Rachel indicated for him to follow and guided them over to the shelves containing a plethora of seventh through twelfth grade literature. "I've done school reports on some of these. For a few, my teacher made me wait on reading them out loud until the other kids were at lunch or recess. But she let me return to class a few minutes tardy."

"Some screwball at your school thought Becky was nuts all because she wrote a fairytale that killed the bad guy in the end."

"Yeah, she told us. Isn't that the way every fairytale goes?"

"Adults act so retarded," Tommy asserted. "They'd piss their pants if they got a hold of the stuff my brother reads."

"Tommy," Rachel hushed in warning over his colorful word choice, stifling a giggle herself. "Not so loud."

Tommy realized himself, "Right," and looked through the vivid selection until one in particular caught his eye. He wiggled the hardback free to study the cover. "Fox's Book of Martyrs?"

Rachel told him, "It's way older than it looks. My brothers like it. If you want to take it with you, my parents won't mind. So long as you bring it back before you go back home."

Tommy looked up in confusion. "But we leave for home in like twenty minutes."

"No, goofy," Rachel responded in grand humor. "I mean before you go back after Sean's wedding. You guys are from Virginia, right?"

"… Right. Thanks, Rachel. I better show Frank." Tommy went into a power walk as he headed out but remembered to shout, "Be right back, Angie!"

Catching his departure, Angel called after him, "I'll wait for you to get back before I fall into distress!"

"'Kay!"

IIIIIII

Despite the lack of sun, the glorious estate came into view for the aerial mutant. Though even without the outdoor lights, strongly suspected he could locate it blindfolded. Heading downward, he intangibly dropped in via the loft roof.

When met with empty space, Trick rang out, "Victor!" Having remembered to snag his communicator, he petitioned, "Vic," into the wrist device.

You really had the nerve to come back here, Patrick? Pupils widening, the ash blonde shook his head briskly. After being eviscerated by a thirteen-year-old boy, you now need the Sabretooth to lick your wounds. Congratulations. I never knew such a degree of pathetic was possible, not even by you.

"No… Not this." Trick's palms went over his ears and he shut his eyes. "Stop it. Just stop!" In a misstep, he started to tumble.

"Hey!" Catching him by the stairs, Victor helped upright him onto his feet. "You know, kid, next time you try to contact a guy, try answerin' him." At the younger man's strange eyes and general movements, Victor gravely wanted to know, "Where've you been all this time? Have you been drinkin'?" When he only continued peering around at random spots, Victor petitioned sharply, "Trick."

Attention caught, Trick blinked and faced him. "Yes. A couple- I had a couple shots is all."

When he detected nothing of a fabrication in Trick's heart rate or breath, Victor suggested, "Why don't you hit the sheets for a while? I'll grab you a batch of Lo's patented tea."

With a nod, "Thanks, Vic," Trick headed downstairs.

Victor followed, keeping one hand pressed to the Irishman's back.