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.

328. Chapter 328 Mum-Mum's the Word

Rise or Fall

Chapter 328: Mum-Mum's the Word
NOTE: Hi, Fam! So, I have read feedback and here's what's happening with that. If you'll scroll through the review history, you'll see that the negative/moderate/bland are accepted right along with the positive/detailed. However, you know that one relative or friend, who you almost never see or hear from until they have an issue? By us RoFers being a family and all, this type of thing happens. I love hearing from all of you, even those who check in once a year or so. Here's the thing, though. If you want your complaints or issues given real thought, you have to be a more active fam member. If you're not comfortable reviewing, you can join the facebook group, e-mail me (check profile), PM back and forth with me, etc. However, you can't spend most of your time in deep lurker mode, pop out solely to express a grievance- especially without elaboration, then vanish again. Let's call it the RoF CC Policy: Contribute to Complain Policy.

That being made clear, the reviews/e-mails/messages on the

actual content in this chapter will factor into whether or not the new formatting, among other issues, are given any reconsideration. As a fun little FYI, Chapter 329 is already nearing 20,000 words with more to come.
Now, do please enjoy and review!
Also, to reiterate, GO MARION!

Chapters to Check: 34, 106, 117, 140, 158, 304, 320, 323, 327

Red bathrobe and outdoor shoes in place, the black-haired boy walked out of the bedroom formerly shared with his brother. His pace steady, he descended to the main level and straight through the back door of the mansion in a rapt state. The air breezy and humidity low, the above carried only the faintest promise of daylight. Unlatching the door, he made his way into the translucent 10x15 square foot structure. Despite the variety of flora that surrounded him, it took a short time to hone in on his mark. Beginning at the base of the soil, he started harvesting. So absorbed in the task, he missed the entry of the greenhouse's owner until the solid hand made contact with his shoulder.

When the child veered around, Logan wanted to know, "There a reason you're out this time of mornin' cultivatin' my chrysanthemums, Black Irish?"

Caressing one of the orange buds, the explanation Tommy offered rapidly flipped the security man's stance from admonishing skeptic to active participant. Using one of the wicker baskets Logan kept amongst his supplies, they collected samples of the flower in all of its available colors. When they journeyed back into the house, they went straight into the kitchen. Under Logan's instruction, Tommy rounded up different tea ingredients while the Veteran heated water to steep half the buds.

"As I wonder why this bum brain of mine never thought of this," Logan watched him bring everything to the countertop on his right, "how'd you cook this up? From your ma or grandma?"
Stilling in brief ponder, Tommy looked at him. Openly befuddled, the ten-year-old shrugged ingenuously.

IIIIIII

The normally downcast basement became a hub of activity following sunrise. In front of the now expanded doorway, Alana looked on in sheer fascination at her son's mechanical inclinations. She also noticed how he only required a small stool to reach the top instead of a step ladder like two years ago. From the kitchenette area, Cordelia came through with a loaded coffee tray. Her arms in gold form allowed her to transport it with ease.

"How's your summer going, Glimmer?" the girl addressed herself good-naturedly. "Oh, the usual. Pool party, bridesmaid duty, preventing my high school science teacher from mauling us all to ribbons, providing refreshment for my sister's spur-of-the-moment civilian company…"

Alana mused in jest, "How does a week here leave me with more travel stories than any mission trip?"

"My God, young lady." Accompanied by an X-Troop consisting of Logan, Sean, Maya, and Samantha, Jed approached in untold awe. "Look at you."

"Sorry, I haven't had much time to keep my hair touched up of late," Cordelia said adorably.

The humored physician asked, "That beautiful gold- is it of similar composition to your sister's diamond shell?"

The girl in question morphed into full form as she replied, "Only glitterier."

The PhD holder found himself at a rare loss for words. "All of you. What you can do... I had twenty years of magnet schools and university under my belt before you children were even born. Now, you have called into question everything I've ever known about medicine, history, sociology… This is—"

"Critically confidential." The interjection made known the enigmatic Professor's presence from no discernable access point. "As my wife, brother and partner, and the charming members of our security squadron have, undoubtedly, already emphasized to you." Taking the tray from Cordelia, he placed it on the nearby worktable close to Frank's tool assortment. After, he wound an arm around his sister-in-law's middle and she resumed her soft skin to make his shoulder her head pillow. "No disrespect is intended with my repetition, Doctor, but you must see our need for anonymity."

"Thank you, sweetie," Jed expressed to Cordelia as he poured himself a solely black cup of coffee and took a bagel from the proffered refreshments. He next stated to Charles, "Multiple repeats are preferable to a single act of foolishness, Professor. And as floored as I am by all of this, I shouldn't be entirely surprised you've maintained such a sanctum for your unique brood. You Xaviers are legends of envy in keeping your private matters exactly that. Your baby boy and quickie wedding are grade school gossip next to this."

"Charles," bringing over the folder he currently flipped through, Sean showed him the captivating contents, "check out this intel Doc Sullivan's collected. He's been on this for more than a month, keeping tabs on other vets' patients suffering a similar pattern."

Looking at their visitor again, Charles wanted to know, "Why haven't you gone to the authorities with any of this? Especially after the fresh blood found in the park."

Jed expounded, "If the police commandeer this, the media will not be far behind. Thus far, I've counted on the trump card that the conspirators believe themselves more anonymous than you…"

"X-Men," Maya bumptiously supplied.

"Thank you, Mrs. Cassidy," Jed said cordially before going on. "I don't want the police clued into any of this until I have some names to attach to this organization's deep pockets. If this is brought to light prematurely, imagine the uproar in North Salem alone."
Samantha figured, "But wouldn't that stop the poaching and slaughtering?"

"Not long-term, darlin'," Logan told her dourly. "Yeah, they'd lay low for a while. Until this whole thing is written off as a colossal hoax and they re-double their efforts a year or so down the line. And we can forget about findin' out what they're doin' with these experiments altogether."

"We also can't be sure there isn't a dirty cop or twelve on their payroll," Alana pointed out.

Tightening a bolt, Frank scoffed, "Yeah, gotta dig the 'burbs. Free from all that big city crime and corruption."

"Tell me about it." Jed glanced towards the boy fondly. "My mother begged me not to practice in the Burroughs. She was convinced I'd lose sight of my values. By the way, what in the world…?" He paused to observe the metallic structure the teenage tinkerer added to the entryway. "That's some state-of-the-art clubhouse, my boy."

A wide-eyed Maya came closer. "You seriously finished it already?"

"Nope. Now, I have." Retracting his wrench, Frank hopped down from the stool.

Charles touched a hand to one of the steel walls. "Is this what had you barricaded in the lab yesterday?"

"And out of bed at four," Frank said resignedly. "The Howlett-Creed bros helped me configure the plumbing."

Logan immediately shook his head in denial. "No way, master foreman. Re-workin' a few pipes doesn't make this beaut' any less yours."

"You mean Hank's," Frank corrected in turn. "I only got the idea going through his schematics. He outlined the whole thing before he got sicker."

Tilting her head to one side to study it from a different angle, Samantha wondered, "What is this thing, Frank?"

"Say hello to the X-TC, as in Total Cleanse," Frank dubbed. "It's a sanitation superstation. If it works, it'll drastically reduce the time it takes to get upstairs during a quarantine crisis. Instead of having to strip and shower constantly, just dump your used gloves and goods," he pointed out the waste disposal bags made onto both outer walls of the structure, "and unless your clothes are caked in all kinds of nasty, just step through, shut your eyes, and a mist comes out to wipe out over ninety percent of potential carrier germs."

"Dude," Sean stood underwhelmed, "really? You put in a Lysol spa? I expected copiously cooler from you, mister."

"Hey, don't go calling out my copious capability, Commander Copperhead," Frank coupled a wagging finger with dagger eyes. "Besides, repeat use of Lysol for this same purpose would eventually irritate the skin to the point of erosion within a few weeks."

Cordelia drolly deduced, "You put in a chemical peeler! My sisters will erect a statue in your honor. Eclipse Rushmore, it will."

Frank brought his gaze heavenly. "Way too many X-Clowns before breakfast." He continued his prior detailing with, "The compound Hank came up with has no harsh chemicals- except on germs because they're evil and that's kinda the purpose- and you know he had the little kids in mind going into the formula. I did add one thing after getting to study the air quality meter you and Charles brought home," he directed towards his mother. "Here, I'll show you."

"Whoa, whoa, wait." Without spilling a single drop of her coffee, Alana apprehended her fervent boy by his forearm. "Not to interfere with progress, but I draw the line at you playing guinea pig."

"Mom," Frank's shoulders deflated, "come on. I'd have had to rig this thing up by candlelight if the original Ben Franklin's mom hindered his scientific endeavors."

"The woman had ten children," Alana countered cogently. "It was a miracle she could walk. Forget chasing after the one precocious lunatic."

"You know, they both died at age eighty-four." When all eyes landed on her, Cordelia shrugged. "I know it's irrelevant but Boston, remember? We're taught these things way ahead of that whole alphabet thing."

With a snicker, Charles gently yanked her over for a head kiss.

"If any loons are gonna get fried on this doohickey, it'll be me." Logan gallantly stepped directly in front of the device. "Start her up, Benjy Boy."

Selecting the correct button on the small square-shaped console, Frank dipped his chin to cue the Veteran. As soon as Logan had both feet inside the hollow structure, steam drizzled on him from overhead as well as both inner sides. The process lasted eight seconds before the nozzles automatically powered down. With minimal residue on his skin and clothes being the worst outcome, he continued into the hall. Upon fully exiting, a green button made into the archway glowed and released a pleasant ding.

"And X-TC is A-OK." Frank hoisted his wrench victoriously. "Thanks, Wolves."

Logan raised a thumb at him, "Nice work, glowworm," before heading off to update Kayla and Angel.

"Sensational work," Jed accentuated.

Frank received a hug from Alana, impressed praise from the girls, and a playful gut punch from Sean.

Charles patted him between the shoulder blades. "Hank will be happy to learn he left his work in the best of hands, Child of Light."

Ready to give off extreme luminosity right then and there, Frank said, "Thanks, Charles." He looked around. "Thanks, you guys."

"Ma'am," Jed addressed Alana, "you have a remarkable boy on your hands."

Drawing arms around her son from behind, Alana jested, "God only knows how that happened." She squeezed him adoringly and proposed, "Since your dad is occupied this morning, want to keep me company in the front seat? Dare I say, listen to radio tunes actually composed in the last decade?"

Frank went tranquilly lax in her grasp. "Kay."

"I can't tell you how much I needed this bit of cheer." Jed released a remorseful sigh. "I'm afraid I was able to identify the remains of the dog that attacked Hank. One of my patients; Bandit Barros. He's—" He quieted and cleared his throat. "He was the Barros siblings' mastiff."

A disbelieving Cordelia pontificated, "Who in their right mind would go within a hundred feet of a strange mastiff, let alone try to abduct one?"

Samantha asked, "Are they dangerous?"

"Quite the contrary, Princess Calico," Charles answered his niece, "they're rather affectionate, albeit gargantuan. Very popular across England. Any family who owns one has little need for a horse."

"Bandit went missing in April. The Barros also didn't think anyone would be stupid enough to try stealing him, so they've been hoping he simply wandered off, lost his collar, found by someone unaware of how to reach the owners. I feared an out-of-county pound got him, but even I held out a speck of hope… until today." Closing his eyes tiredly, Jed pinched the bridge of his nose. "This is the last news I want to deliver. They already lost both parents within two years of each other. Kelly's had that dog since before she was a teenager. Their uncle even posted a hundred dollar reward."

"Whoa." Frank's eyebrows ascended. "Most adults barely want to fork over five bucks for a missing pet."

"Dr. Sullivan," Cordelia touched his tense arm supportively, "I have two dogs back home in Boston and this whole thing's made me sick inside. I'd like to be there to help you break it to Kelly." Her line of sight shifted to her brother-in-law. "Is that okay?"

Charles decided, "Yes, that's very considerate of you, Cordy. Give them our family's condolences."

"Thank you," Jed responded appreciatively to both.

Recollection evoked in Frank. "Barros… hey, does her brother go to Westchester High? Bert?"

"Herbert Barros," Jed confirmed. "Yeah, he's going to be a junior in the fall. Kid's had a rough go since his mother especially, but his grades and mood finally saw some improvement this past year. He even volunteered at my office to beef up his college resume. When Bandit went missing, he couldn't stand the sight of the place anymore."

"I know him," Frank informed. "One of my teachers recommended me to help him out in algebra. He was pretty much willing to do anything to avoid his uncle grounding him for half the summer."

"Hold on," Jed interjected. "You tutored a kid a year ahead of you?" He instantly shook his head in disgrace. "And kindly disregard that question, child about to graduate in ten seconds."

Growing a little sheepish at that reminder, Frank offered, "If you wait 'til I'm out of school, I could go with you, too. Since I know Bert and all."

"Cool," Cordelia grinned. "I'll pick you up."

That arranged, Charles none-too-subtly ushered the Tolberts to get on with the academic portion of the Child of Light's day. Alana and Frank pilfered a sack's worth of the donuts and bagels before finally departing through the X-TC.

"I need to go by home myself to feed my own herd. Shower, grab a change of clothes," Jed dragged his palm across his shabby jaw fuzz, "mow this King Kong mask off my face."

"What about sleep?" Maya brought up. "A proper meal?"

The physician flashed a bushed smile. "Don't speak of such unrealistic notions, dear child."

Charles eyed the older man with a mutual sentiment.

Samantha inquired, "How many animals do you have at home, Dr. Sullivan?"

The veterinarian replied with a light hum, "Not many." Retrieving his wallet from his pants pocket, he unfolded it to let the foot-long plastic sleeve of photographs cascade from it. "My Labby brothers," Cordelia swooned over the image of the Labrador retrievers, one yellow and the other black, "A year apart, but same father. My quadruplets and chief executives," at the four multi-colored cats snuggling on a couch, Samantha cooed with gusto, "and my little brother bunnies." A fully white rabbit and another with ginger patches.

Sean and Charles chorused, "Aww,"

Maya playfully rolled her eyes at the lot of them.

What can I say?" Jed tucked the photographs away. "I'm a sucker for keeping families together."

Samantha eyed him favorably.

"Firstly Doctor, good Christ," Charles reacted to his mammal total, "secondly, I'm sure you can understand why we don't want any of the children to learn we have the dog- please don't mention we have Bandit in our possession."

Jed nodded affirmatively. "I understand perfectly. I'm the first to protect innocent eyes from the grimmer aspects of my work. On that note, I'm going home for a few hours, but I'll head back with Cordelia and Frank after we talk to the Barros. While I'm gone, I'm entrusting my findings, which include privileged client information, with Mr. Cassidy here." Entire frame solemn, Sean nodded astutely. "That, in addition to the countless resources you have at your disposal, Professor, is more than enough to have my licensed revoked and my name made mud."

"We'll keep your secrets and you'll keep ours. And together," Charles displayed his hand, "we will expose the real perpetrators."

The girls shared ecstatic glances as the men shook on it. Sean retained his serious resolve, but his satisfaction still resonated.

"I don't have any surgeries scheduled for today, but I would like to leave your number with my office and the ER if I'm needed this evening," the doctor requested.

"Yes, of course," Charles granted.

"Cordelia, the Barros' address is in my files," Jed told the black-haired girl. "I'll phone ahead, but what's say we meet there about four this afternoon?"

"We'll be there," the glitter girl promised.

IIIIIII

A mild murmur echoed from his lips before the brown irises dared brave morning light. He attempted to rub away the overnight crust from his vision and legitimately let off a meek whimper when he remembered the condition of most of his fingers. He used his intact thumbs for the job instead. Before he could blink twice, he received sudden additional weight on his mattress from the buoyant bulk of boy.

"Hey, dude! How ya feeling?"

Trying to absorb the blue fawn eyes gazing upon him, Leon looked to search his immediate memories. "I think I had the best dream since, roughly, ever."

"What about?" Tommy wondered.

"Becky turned my knife on my Cousin Jared."

Tommy blissfully declared, "Girlchick is a don. Here."

After he adorned his neck with the star-cross necklace, Leon realized the notable absence. "Where's Dad?"

"He'll be back," Tommy reassured. "He just went to check on Becky." He retrieved the tall chilled container from the night table. "Drink this."

Leon studied the festive liquid, topped with slices of orange, lemon, and raspberry. "Not to insult your shamrock heritage, but I think I'm in enough trouble without adding mai tais to the equation."

Tommy rolled his eyes. "It's Wolverine's tea, slo-mo."

Dry throat compelling him to take the crazy straw between his lips, Leon wound up consuming half the cold contents in a single sip. "Did he use sugar in this or a secret stash from a Transylvanian witch brewery?"

"That's for us to know and you to find out," the child claimed wryly.

Once he emptied the glass entirely, Leon shifted from the bed to reach his bathroom faster.

Without a pair of legs underneath him anymore, Tommy managed to hang onto the glass as he tumbled amongst the linens. The smile that resulted from the short-lived rush flashed towards the door when the wizard of metal made his return.

"He's taking a leak." The lad indicated the closed bathroom.

"Hm," striding over to take the unfilled glass from him, Erik feigned puzzlement, "I can't imagine why."

Solemnity taking over his features, Tommy rolled onto his belly to better peer up at the man. "Daddy, I'm super sorry for telling Mama Emma I broke the mirror. I barely even knew what happened, but Lee begged me not to say anything. I didn't know he was gonna take off, honest. I'd have told you in a heartbeat."

With a hefty pat to the fledgling's bottom, Erik said, "I believe you, boychick. Furthermore, I don't blame you. You were concerned for him and Leon put you in a very uncomfortable position. Your Mama Emma is resting up from the difficult night, but she wants to speak with you at some point today."

"Is she ticked?" the ten-year-old vexed.

"No," Erik answered to his relief, "and neither of us feel you deserve to be punished. Besides, we don't want you upset during your breakfast outing."

Rising onto his knees, Tommy hugged him around the neck. "Thanks, Daddy."

Erik sent an affectionate hand down his back. "Go on and get ready. No formals, but make sure you wear a nice shirt. Let me see you before you leave."

"Yes, sir." Glass in hand, Tommy charged out, but managed to slow down in the hall.

When Leon emerged from the bathroom, he clung to the doorway as if staggered.

Erik acknowledged him with, "And how are you this morning, young man?"

Leon's eyes twitched as he thought how to describe it. "Springy- at least, my equivalent of it."

"An all too fleeting sensation for you this morning." Getting to his full height, Erik pointed to the bed. "Sit." Once his son did so at the speed of a shift, the perturbed Poland native crossed his arms. His expression hardened with great severity. "Can you begin to comprehend how recklessly bullheaded you were last night? How ignorant you chose to be?"

Leon carefully responded, "I thought it'd be a quicker jaunt than grabbing Red Vines at the gas station. I didn't imagine for a second that an animal clinic in Westchester would have a sophisticated security system. Definitely not the owner, of all people, playing night watchman."

Erik eyed him disbelievingly. "It never occurred to you that the veterinarian who brought this to our attention in the first place, wouldn't take some kind of additional precaution to protect his business?"

"… If I didn't have him filed under suspect already. I also tend not to give the clean-cut that much credit."

"Leon, that is shoddy, naïve thinking," Erik berated austerely. "I will not accept that you were of sound mind enough to concoct this fool mission, but lacked the basic foresight to include so much as one other X-Man. Sean's made sure to do exactly that with his every hunch. Little Joey and Cody handled their recent excursion with superior collaboration. What was going through your head, Leon Osaka? What?"

Taking in air through his nose, the youth uttered, "I was… I had to make it right… for Hank."

Quieting, Erik went to one knee to look at him intently. "You wanted to handle this single-handedly as some sort of irrational atonement? If something had happened to you last night, there is no amount of penance that would get Hank through that." When Leon's eyes dimmed to blackness, Erik brought his palm to his cheek. "You hid your cuts from us so needlessly, you coerced Tommy to do the same, you exhausted your powers to break into the office of the family vet, and even if he hadn't caught you, you would not have had enough strength to make it home. What if you'd been found passed out in the street with those incriminating files? What if Sullivan had called the police; showed them that recording? Damn it, boy," Erik seethed, "what if he'd shot you?" He saw the sheen in his son's eyes and some degree of softness penetrated the metal wielder's voice. "Boychick, this cannot happen again. I will not let you be a personal danger to yourself, even if I have to be the ruthless ogre."

Nothing resembling an intelligent rejoinder coming to him, Leon continued silent. The slow tremors coursing through his muscles acted as his only movement. When his father resumed standing to unbuckle his belt, he decided muteness to be his wisest choice of the last twenty-four hours. Stealing another glimpse of the leather accessory, Leon recognized it as one of Erik's thick heavy-duty belts. He usually reserved these for carrying additional tools for extensive projects so he could focus his magnetism elsewhere. Clearly, chastisement made the reservation list.

Erik unceremoniously ordered, "Over my lap," before taking the spot on the mattress he had used last night. After Leon promptly obeyed, the man further instructed, "Mind your hands, particularly those stitches. I prefer my son not be made a pincushion."

Unable to tell if the remark indicated a trace of levity or not, Leon hummed, "Mmhmm," and kept the appendages in question outstretched between his pillows.

In simultaneous motion, Erik yanked down Leon's bottoms. Raising his arm high, he delivered the first strike with the full force of his hand. Not as braced for it as he tried to convince himself, Leon let off a hiss already. From there, his father's palm collided with his bare behind mercilessly. Having to work not to pound the pillow or even make a fist, Leon reacted with his lower limbs without thinking.

The attempt to alleviate the agony earned him multiple swats to his thighs. "Kicking, young man? If you have that much bluster, clearly I'm being too lenient with you."

"N-no," Leon let his legs go entirely rigid, "I'm sorry, Dad…"

Erik went on as he warned, "You better preserve whatever energy you have left for counting. You'll be doing that momentarily."

As he released intense tears, Leon laid stiffly in dread of what awaited him next.

All too soon, he felt his father's hand still to gather the folded strip of leather. "I want the exact number of strikes I give you. Miscount by so much as one and your rear end will need its own intensive care unit."

Leon struggled to reply, "Y-yessir."

The second the first slap of leather ignited his backside, Leon could do nothing between adding the blows, besides crying wretchedly. Even as the belt ended its rage against his backend, tears and sobs cascaded and echoed from the long-haired figure.

No sympathy at the forefront, Erik demanded, "How many did I give you, Leon?"

With immense difficulty, Leon managed to verbalize. "F-fifteen?"

"Oh, how kind of your brain to join us," Erik satirically observed, arm elevating. "Pleased to know you didn't barter it for magic beans." He spanked him with his own merciless palm again for a closing twenty swats. Throughout, Leon resembled more of a howling wolf than a majestic lion. Instead of saying anything at the conclusion, Erik brought his pants and underwear back into place. "We're done here, boychick."

Experiencing relief for all its worth, Leon continued to cry out the remainder of his multi-faceted pain. Erik's hands massaging his back and shoulders provided additional euphoria that Leon completely soaked up. Though he still found it such a strange sensation to secrete tears outside of the dream world, much of his inner tension dispelled with every salty droplet. He could feel his thumping and functioning heart as easily as the extreme blaze in his behind.

Not wanting to rush his emotionally wrought son too quickly, when he seemed to go into something of a daze, Erik laid him on his stomach. Through strands of black stuck to his face, Leon sent imploring eyes after the rising man. When Erik indicated his intention to only journey as far as the bathroom, the younger male got as comfortable as he could on top of his linens. The Headmaster came back with Leon's moistened face towel to cleanse that very part of his anatomy. Even after twin waterfalls worth of tears, among other internal fluids, it took little effort to uncover the boychick's impeccable oriental features. Any new perspiration that formed only gave the babyface a dewy glow L'Oréal itself could not hope to replicate.

"You understand exactly why you're being punished?" Erik then directed, "If so, explain."
Leon thought carefully while his ability to articulate repaired itself. "To paraphrase Dr. Sullivan, I made my stupid quota last night."

"For the fiscal year," Erik pointedly corrected. "Points we're going to elaborate on after your aunt wakes up, including the rest of your punishment. As for now, if I make you something to eat, do you think you can stomach it?"

Leon nodded then ventured a bit bashfully, "Could you, maybe, get me more Wolver-tea?"

Maintaining his stern exterior, Erik claimed, "Only because hydration is paramount."
As the older man started to rise, Leon determined, "I'll grab a shower."

"No," Erik negated with such magnitude, Leon hurriedly reattached his head to his nearest pillow. "You are going to wait for me to bring your food, eat, and then, we will see if a cool shower is in your backside's immediate future."

With another dutiful nod, Leon lifted an arm. "Yes, sir."
At the beseeching gesture, Erik bent to hug and hang onto him for an extended moment. "Alright, boychick, I'll be back." He gently thumped his back. "You're not to set foot outside of this room without permission, understand?"

"Yes, Dad," the young one sent into his ear in infantile fashion.

With a kiss to his temple, Erik remembered the chosen implement and seized it on his way out. Stopping off in his own quarters to trade the strap for a more modish one. The mutant elder walked about, aggrieved of the fact that he had to not only exercise it on Leon but use it as an obedience incentive for Hank. As he always did when presented with the arduous requisites of paternity, he forced his insides to emulate the iron he wielded.

IIIIIII

Sunrise invoked stunning images incapable of exact duplication with each new day. Regardless, the awe-inspiring artistry of their common Creator did not inspire their particular group to commit to such a timeslot. The Walsh-Cassidy amalgamation opted to meet for brunch at ten-thirty instead. Dressed in a pair of steel-gray, Emma-gifted pants and an Erik-approved crimson polo, Tommy received a surprise when his brother's BMW arrived outside of the designated eating establishment. Having visited the diner with some of the mansion-dwellers already, he knew it came with a few sports-themed games. They also carried what the boy deemed "normal grub" over "fancy-smancy eats" frequently served at his mother's club meetings.

Since they had no crowd to battle for a table, Doreen, Liam, Flynn, and Lydia waited outside, enjoying the delicate breeze. Both in pastel skirt outfits of lavender and butterscotch respectively, Doreen and Lydia sported matching bonnets with brims that prevented even a glint of sun from assaulting their fair skin. Since neither of them suffered the exposed scalps of balding, the men stuck to head visors and shades. Flynn's visor suavely accented his green camouflage shirt and khakis. Liam simply complimented his wife's ensemble with navy pants and a boysenberry golf shirt. The quartet of elders obtained a surprise of their own at the brunette who stepped out from Sean's passenger seat. The blue shade of her summer dress rivaled the sky's vibrancy.

Maya's astonishment came in the form of their exultant reactions, especially Doreen's, "Oh, sweetheart," she came to Maya for a small hug and turned her faux scowling gaze on Sean, "and you clowning. Saying she couldn't make it."

"I didn't feel up for today at first," Maya admitted. "Then, it occurred to me that if "didn't feel like it" couldn't get me out of homework, it definitely won't cut it in marriage."

"Say that again," Liam seconded, "and again," making his way over.

Maya accepted his cheek peck but regarded him somewhat tentatively. "The other day with my door…"

"You mean that bizarre weather pattern causing shattered glass and slammed doors all across the country? What're they calling it?" Liam looked around in a show of bewilderment until he snapped his fingers in revelation. "Tornado Teen."

Receiving a squeeze from Tommy, Doreen jested, "I could have sworn it was Hurricane Hormones."

"Cute, guys." Sean embraced his mother. "But leave the entertainment to the rising star in the family."

"But it'll be years before I'm NBA drafted," Tommy piped up cheekily.

At the laughter and false wounded look from Sean, Lydia proposed, "We'd best feed these hams."

"Um, Mom is—"

"At work and we're not," Flynn fielded Maya's inquiry knowingly. "Now, may we please move the pleasantries inside? After you, ladies."

"Got it, Gramp." Tommy pulled and held the door open for them.

Letting Doreen and Lydia enter the diner ahead of her, Maya lingered when the front of the camouflage shirt seized her attention. "Grandfather Flynn," she stroked the Italian flag stitched into the material right amongst the ones for the US, France, Britain, and Russia, "do you mean to scandalize us?" She let off a phony air of mortification.

Humored by her antics, "Spare me, dear lass," Flynn linked arms with and guided her inside, "I still have friends in Florence and pals in Palermo."

IIIIIII

Arranged in an unusual formation, the eyes of green, mutated hazel, and two sets of brown stared at the unlit light fixture until the extravagant gold and cream design piece blurred into insignificance. Raven lay on pillows at the front of her gigantic bed of maximum comfort. Becky propped her curly head on the older female's midsection. Trav laid vertically like Raven, leaving his head on Becky's stomach, but positioned right by his mother's left leg. On the right side of the bed, Raven's chest heightened Kiki's head. One arm coiled around her daughter, Raven's other draped across Becky, and reached Trav's hair for her to knead the soft strands.

"Remember the best time we ever shared a room?" the disguised blonde brought up.

"The beach house," Becky instantly recalled.

Raven dryly accused, "Mind-reader-cheater."

Becky used her shoulder to lightly thump her. "Am not, false-face."

"Mean mutant names," Trav admonished good-naturedly, complete with raised authoritative index finger. "Not allowed! Wait 'til Uncle Charles hears."

"So?" Raven briskly disregarded her son's threat. "Tell him. We were his pretty porcelain princesses when he monitored our floor at the beach house. We could do no wrong."

An attentive Kiki chimed in with, "Even you, Mommy?"

When all three snickered at her expense, Raven mildly fumed. "You guys are so lucky I'm way too lazy to kick your bums right now. Gracie," she cooed at the kitten curled up so close to her head, "get 'em." The teeny calico responded with the slightest twitch of her nose as she continued napping. "Fine, we're all lazy as lard. Must be that royalty thing."

Becky's smile widened. "Sleep was impossible the night before Disneyland."

"Because somebody," Raven tacked on pointedly, "kept us up obsessing over Snow White."

"And that's why you got the Evil Queen at my birthday party the very next month," Becky teased in a sing-song.

Trav wanted to know, "Are we ever gonna get to go to Disneyland?"

Becky's ardor depleted at that. "That's a bad idea."

"How come?" Trav shifted his head to look at her. "You got to go."

Becky faced him as well. "Disneyland is in California. You know, where Leon's from. I don't think he'd want to go back, not even if Mickey's whole crew clean our rooms for us."

Trav sat up on his shoulder, curiosity piqued. "Why not?"

"That's where Uncle Leon was hurt," Raven told him, her tone partially vacant. "It can be really hard to go back where people hurt you because after something like that, it's all you can think about."

Becky put forth, "Remember when we were living in the apartment house? I didn't even want to move back here after what happened last year."

Raven 's faint but venomous utterance of, "Shadow, Ignacio, Verti-hoe," did not go unnoticed by a briefly wide-eyed then delightfully amused Becky.

Trav looked on in puzzlement.

Kiki's hands went to her hips with a taken aback visage aimed at her mother.

In a rare turnabout, Raven glanced at her with the sweetest doe eyes.

The shenanigans tapered when Trav next asked, "But we love living here. And how come bad people get to take Disneyland? Me and Kikiko wouldn't give up going to Grandma's 'cause of the bad scientists where Grandpa worked."

"Pooh Bear," Raven formed a smile, nuzzling heads with Kiki, "as young as you two wee tidbits are, you were born with a special strength that's larger than life."

Trav appeared to mull that over for better comprehension.

"Mommy," Kiki wondered wistfully, "is Daddy larger than life?"

To that, Raven avowed, "This life is nothing next to your daddy." Or without him…

IIIIIII

Before Victor made it back to the infirmary after blowing off steam in the gym, his heightened nose clued him into their latest obstacle. He moved faster, coming in to see the ever unaffected Edna taking care of the filled bedpan. The bag from the previous night's catheter drainage had already been emptied as well.

"I didn't think he had enough to eat for that much mess," Victor remarked.

"It's that dream brew of your brother's," Edna said without glancing away from her present task. "He's had sixty-four ounces already."

An impressed Victor stated, "We'll be hooking an IV of the stuff to him at this rate- works for me." He then offered of the rest of the unpleasant maintenance, "I can take over from here."

Edna simply waved him off with, "Get his bath started. When it comes to my son's rear end revolts, I'm the combat veteran."

Victor regarded her in esteem before proceeding for the hygiene chamber. He got the tub filled and proper toiletries arranged then returned for Hank. In the infirmary again, Victor gave the young patient a command to behave himself in his mother's presence and unlocked the manacles. To his satisfaction, Hank stayed not only docile but moved at appropriate times for Victor to get his nude form cloaked in his blue bathrobe. After Edna confirmed it to be the proper moment for entry, Samantha came through with dryer fluffed sheets. Except for the plastic mattress cover, Edna stripped the cot of the old linens. Since Victor had a load of large but enervated Hank to transport, Samantha finished dressing the bed rapidly. She then carried a set of folded clothes into the bathing space. Right behind her, Victor bobbed his head in thanks. The kitten mutant smiled and left the gents alone.

Lowering the younger man into the inviting water, Victor wasted no time in scrubbing him as clean as he could without hurting the ailing one. He purred while doing so. It bothered Victor to see the prized scholar gaze about with such an empty expression in place, regardless of the cooperative demeanor.

"But the girl, ah—that was a different matter," the security man recited. "He did not reason here. He knew that she was created—"

"To be protected. And that he was created to protect her."

Victor paused at the utterance.

Turning his head slowly, Hank gave off a half-smile.

.

IIIIIII

As antsy Tommy watched everyone's plates steadily dwindle down to the few overcooked French fries and/or the unidentifiable purple crunchy parts of salad no one ever ate. He deemed that the polite time to request a pardon and practically ejected from the booth to get to the basketball game. Liam and Doreen followed at a more leisurely pace to witness the all-star in his natural habitat. With his parents on the opposite side of the restaurant, Sean sent a muted "thank you" upward and gestured for the remaining three to inch in closely.

"Give it to us straight, taisci," Flynn said covertly but candidly. "What's the latest hubbub?"

Remaining aware of their public surroundings, Sean went into detail as best as he could. Fortunately, even as they continuously worked to fully grasp mutant culture, his grandparents rarely needed florescent billboards dropped on them.

"The ink isn't even dry on your marriage certificate," Lydia reacted sympathetically.

Taking another sip of coffee, Flynn shook his head. "When it rains, the monsoon's not far behind."

Lydia commended, "I don't know how you two are able to greet the day with your best foot forward." She eyed Maya specifically. "Many a new bride is ready to fall to pieces the second the toaster breaks down."

With a bit of a blithe shrug, Maya responded, "Still far from the worst summer I've ever had… and that will never stop being pathetic."

"Believe it or not, things are looking up with the vet's involvement," Sean told them. "Still, after this whole thing with Lauren, we don't need any more family fallout."

"Yes, we're still in a state of repair from that nuclear detonation," Lydia said sardonically. "Lauren hasn't exactly prioritized hostess duties."

"Shock of the century," Maya threw out then beseeched, "Please, let's not get into that. The point is, Liam and Doreen need to stay away from this. They're not ready to understand these things."

"I don't want them snatching Tommy early as they flee for the hills," Sean emphasized. "No, we were literally yanked apart back in Camden with no say." His fingers folded into a fist that he drummed on the table. "This time, it's on our terms, period. Gran, Grandpa, you know you can trust us with him, right?"

"Boyo," Flynn addressed him lugubriously, "lesions of Lucifer don't have the manpower to diminish our faith in you. A couple of thieves-in-the-night never stood a chance."

Lydia then stated, "Now, you both only need to trust us staying on top of this for you."

The weary-eyed couple immediately made known their gratitude

Not far from the entrance, Liam lined up before the machine and with a narrowed, indomitable gaze, flung the ball forward. The small orange sphere went over the rim and sunk through the short net.

"Two in a row," decorum lost to him at that moment, Liam raised a knee and pumped his fist in success, "all hail the pro!"

With the glee of a high-schooler, Doreen got on the tips of her toes to kiss the corner of his mouth. "Oh, baby, you're sensational!"

"Right back at you, better half." Liam drew her into his side before turning towards their oddly wordless youngest. "Really, the old man gets in two lucky shots and you go catatonic on me?"

As if unaware of the quiet spell that stealthily overtook his previously hyper demeanor, Tommy peered up at his expectant parents. "That was terrific, Dad. I was just thinking we need to go buy a whole mess of lottery tickets."

"And there's the bonehead motor-mouth we know and love." Dignified enough to refuse an eye roll, Liam ruffled the shorter brunette's hair with his knuckles.

IIIIIII

Due to Erik's notable- as well as justifiable- dissatisfaction with his recent conduct, Leon bet on gruel as his edible rations. Much to the contrary, however, Erik returned to him with white bean soup and a light turkey sandwich with cheese. Besides the entrancing aroma of the soup, the substantial glass of tea made the warm dish even more appealing on a July day. Leon had observed Erik making the soup in the kitchen with Becky and Frank before, along with a number of other Jewish delicacies. Something that stood out about the soups for Leon had to be the way Erik paid such attention to the frivolous tasks. He would take the time to gather all required vegetables and prepare them by hand instead of relying on something as simple as a can of tomato paste. Leon deduced that giving such care to minute details kept Grandma Edie's recipes alive for his father.

Once he finished eating, Leon leaned on Erik to finish savoring his tea. Ensuring he stayed on his knees to prevent any and all pressure on his chastened bottom, Leon's mind drifted back to the recipes. Erik's care in the kitchen served as one of extremely few similarities he shared with Seth- to a certain extent. Leon remembered his first father being seamlessly capable of creating on the stove and cleansing it of evidence to that fact in a single swoop. At least, it seemed that way through the eyes of an early grader-schooler.

After the college-aged Leon dozed off for a couple of hours, Erik ceased working on Hebrew refresher vocabulary at the desk when he stirred. The studying distraction had, incidentally, benefitted him beyond the intellectual aspect. He made sure the fetched rubber gloves covered Leon's afflicted hands securely before ushering him to take his desired shower. Erik also made a point of telling him to hurry because he had already mentally messaged a wide-awake Emma.

Unsure as to consider that a spot of hope or a crystal clear warning, Leon did not drag out his bathing ritual. Even blow-drying proved short-lived with his lack of desire to stand before the mirror for very long. When he departed his bathroom again, he wore dark track pants and a gray X themed t-shirt. As soon as his son drew nearer to him, Erik tossed back the magnificent mane of black to keep the beloved brown eyes visible.

On the main level, they met with Emma in the presently vacant parlor. At the sight of her, Leon docilely pushed his hair further back. After she greeted him with the strongest hug she could offer outside of diamond form, she directed him to the closest sofa. Leon sat in the middle of it and found himself easing onto a throw pillow. Apparently, the shower had not been an absolute miracle worker on his still somewhat tender backside. He tried to keep his line of sight consistent by gauging their reactions. Unfortunately, he shared the room with two X-Men who came equipped with more years of experience than himself at masking complex emotions.

Emma, naturally, picked up on his discomfort. "It seems your father got his point across."

"Yes, ma'am." Leon then practically implored, "I'm really sorry about last night. I didn't count on some half-cocked idea of mine taking a toll on you."

Emma stated, "Motherhood is a series of unpredictable toll charges," before moving on. "You understand the depths of where you went wrong?"

"Yes, many that never occurred to me at the time," Leon admitted.

"And therein lies one of our main concerns," Emma asserted. "You're an incredibly intelligent young man. A fact known to make us occasionally forget how much of a boy you still are. That isn't an insult but a simple truth. Despite how talented an instructor you are and that you're only a few months younger than Alex, the two of you are in very different stages of maturity."

Leon's lips curved ironically. "You noticed that, too, huh?"

"That does not mean there is something wrong with you," Emma stated pungently, ensuring their eye contact with her every word. "It does mean that, exactly like everyone else in this house, you have different needs to be addressed."

Erik spoke next, having been slowly pacing in front of the other couch with his hands in his pants pockets. "This is not the first time you've been punished for a secret excursion, though it has been a while since the last occurrence. When it does happen, I don't believe it to be an intentional act of wayward rebellion on your part. Your mutation is a deep part of you and it's difficult to ignore its natural thrall." He tilted his head to indicate Emma and himself. "We know because we've been there. We both still struggle against the temptation of our former lives. The devil-may-care attitude towards our powers, complete disregard for those around us, forcing our will by any means we deemed necessary."

"What happened between you and Hank yesterday?" Emma mentioned. "It's honestly laughable compared to the telepathic torment I took pleasure in inflicting on anyone who dared look at me the wrong way. Honestly, I'm quite impressed by your restraint with your own gift. Mainly limiting yourself to espionage."

Contemplation comprised Leon's countenance. "Lots of thoughts go through my head; plenty of daydreams. But every time I consider acting on them… it's like justifying the fear-mongering, the internment, all the lives lost and ruined."

Not for the first time, Erik eyed his son with reverence.

Leon exhaled dryly. "Some kind of motivators I have. Spite keeps me off the suicide block."

Emma stated shrewdly, "But not completely, does it? You may not make an active effort to end your own life, sweetheart, but last night is further proof that your personal safety does not make your priorities list. Yet another charming feature the three of us share."

"We had early trips to the grave scheduled before we met Charles," proclaimed Erik. "The X-Men are accountable to one another, but Emma and I would have benefited so well from having someone we respect keeping us in check earlier in life. That is exactly what we intend to do with you, boychick. A task that becomes more problematic the closer you get to twenty-one."

Emma then informed Leon, "I'm having the lawyer get started on granting your father and I adult guardianship over you. He considers it a relatively simple undertaking due to your mental health history. Jed Sullivan showed you kindness most in his position would not by calling us instead of the police. Last night made it abundantly clear that your date of birth is irrelevant. You're not emotionally ready to assume full adult responsibility for your actions, especially if you face legal trouble again."

"Adult guardianship," Leon parroted, trying to grasp the concept. "I thought that was for the elderly. What does it entail exactly?"

"Because of your mental/behavioral issues, you will, essentially, be seen as a juvenile in the eyes of the law," Erik spelled out. "Meaning, no leaving the country or so much as crossing state lines without our permission. You cannot be questioned by police without our counsel. We have final say concerning you medically, residentially, and legally, resulting in a number of reprisals should your needs go unmet. Irrevocable until you are twenty-five years old. At which time, we will see where we are."

"You also won't be able to marry without our consent," Emma felt the need to accentuate.

To that, Leon smirked. "What, that wasn't always the case?"

Erik shot him an impatient scowl. "We're being serious, Leon Osaka. Do you understand what we're telling you?"

Sobering, the youth in question eventually concluded, "So, I'm a kid for an additional four and a half years?"

Emma said, "That's the crux of it."

Bombarded with multiple thoughts on top of prior night musings, Leon timorously requested, "Can we talk about this some more?"

"That we will," Erik affirmed. "For now, it's time to go over the remainder of your punishment." He watched his son's shoulders go rigid, but did not lighten up on his austerity. "We've come too close to losing you to these reckless impulses of yours. That is why, until further notice, your solitude has been revoked. Outside of the bathroom, you're to be with one of us or another instructor at all times, except when you're conducting your own sessions with the children. On nights Melissa isn't staying over with you- something you both must verbally and visually verify to us- one of us will be with you until you're sound asleep. Try sneaking off again and I will personally set up camp in your room after I blister your backside."

Emma tacked on, "And I will conduct periodic scans of your mind at random. That is something I would loathe doing, but do not doubt for a moment that I will. Furthermore, no motorcycle privileges unless Alex, Logan, or Victor have time to ride with you or you're taking Melissa out. On dates, you have to tell us exactly where you're going and call upon arrival and departure. If Melissa takes issue with any of these new conditions," Emma developed a derisive smile, "do let her know I'll be tickled pink to discuss it all with her."

"Somewhere she just felt an icy shudder and she doesn't know why." An unsure look came over Leon's face. "Call me crazy," his eyes glinted, "but it seems like with my every screw-up, you pull me back further from the brink and closer to you guys for some reason. Just… why?"

Emma fielded that one with, "You're ours now."

The room fell into affable quiet until Leon wondered, "So, who's on armed guard duty first?"

"Let's get a telepathic session in while time actually permits." Emma walked over to gently clasp his wrist. "After I see how these cuts are faring."

Leon nodded, Kay, Mom, as he got to his feet.

IIIIIII

The Child of Light's typical fervor that always radiated when freed from the confines of a classroom came in minute doses that afternoon. He instantly spotted Cordelia's car and made a path for it. Enthusiasm proved difficult when the normally effervescent girl merely waved at him from the passenger's seat. It did not shock the boy to discover Fabian behind the wheel. Their task ahead had, undoubtedly, spent the day festering inside of her. Not the best mood for staying in accordance with traffic laws.

For his own part, Frank actually appreciated being parentally-mandated to wear collared shirts, ironed trousers, and polished wingtips for his program. He felt all too reminiscent of a militaristic bereavement informant team and his current appearance made some effort to imitate the formal attire required for such a duty. Depending on the activity, Cordelia wore pants into town sometimes, but her inner socialite constantly seemed to know when to break out her best dresses. Fabian attired sharply on days ending in Y. Frank even remembered seeing him in seamlessly altered gym uniforms at school. After getting settled in the back, Frank preoccupied himself with homework, mainly so it did not interfere with being an X-Man with Sean. The city boy only wished superfluous high school busy work to be as fleeting.

By Cordelia's navigation, Fabian brought them to the location under a half an hour later. When the brown and white Tudor property came into view, Frank stuck his head out the window for a better look at the poster-sized advertisement plaque made onto the iron gate.

"Oh yeah, Bert's uncle is that real estate dude," the youngest teenager remembered. "I think we got the apartment house through him, Cor."

"Probably," the Bostonian replied indifferently. "I've seen his ads all- there's Dr. Sullivan." She pointed out the man adorned in a charcoal suit and tie.

Leaning on the side edge of his black Camaro's trunk, Jed finished off the remaining coffee in his travel thermos. His downcast demeanor marginally elevated when he, likewise, spotted the trio of youngsters.

"Hello, Dr. Sullivan," greeted Cordelia, moving between the males.

Frank lifted his arm in acknowledgement. "Hi, Doc Sullivan."

"Doctor, this is my boyfriend," Cordelia introduced the one on her left, "Fabian Cortez."

"Doctoro." Accepting his handshake, Fabian maintained an even countenance while seemingly attempting to scan through every molecule through the unknown elder's core.

"Nice to meet you." Jed took more notice and much amusement in the gold vehicle they rode up in. He turned to Cordelia. "You and your sister take great pride in your color coordination, I see."

"Yeah," Frank said wryly, "we don't get it, either."

"Thanks again for being here, all of you." Jed left his thermos on his driver's seat then led them through the gate.

The closest to him as they proceeded across the walkway of the well-landscaped grounds, Cordelia inquired, "They know we're coming?"

"Yes," Jed replied then added glumly, "Unfortunately, they don't know what's coming."

The adolescents went entirely somber as Jed rang the bell.

"Hold on!" Charging footsteps followed the loud response before the wide cherry oak door opened. Basketball tucked under one arm, a perspiring strawberry blonde teenager, slightly shorter than Fabian, greeted them. "Doc—" His eyes magnified as soon as he honed in on, "Fabian Cortez? Cordelia Frost? You… what are you guys…?"

While Cordelia offered a friendly smile, Fabian's amicability went to not acknowledging the blatantly obvious "cool-kids-on-site" adulation.

The third from Westchester High popped out from behind them. "Hey, Bert."

"Frank. What's up, man?" Bert bumped fists with him. "Thought you blew this 'burb to go to NASA's first moon college."

Before Frank could comment on that, his line of sight went to the auburn-haired young woman, who made her way into the foyer. She wore a peach sheath dress with a floral headband in her long tresses.

"As my little brother clearly forgot to offer," she shot Bert a pointed look as she came to stand by him in the doorway, "please come in and have a seat."

After they cleared the way for Cordelia to do so first, she introduced herself, Fabian, and Frank. She walked with Kelly towards the nearby living room. Jed and Fabian went after them with Bert and Frank pleased to hang back in the rear.

"We miss you around the office, Herbert." Jed looked over his shoulder at his former volunteer. "How have you been?"

Bert replied, "Alright, I guess. I miss it sometimes, too. Not as much as I do Bandit, though."

Frank averted his eyes at that.

"Uncle Raul?" petitioned Kelly.

A man with ebony hair that grayed at the sideburns filled the living room recliner. In a powder blue dress shirt with an almond tie and pants, he stood to his full height at the arrivals.

The adult males acknowledged each other.

"You've been holding out, Jed," Raul teased. "I thought you had no children you couldn't kennel."

Jed chuckled. "Alas, that's still the case."

Bert clarified, "This is Cordelia, Fabian, and Frank from school."

Raul then received a full look at his nephew. "Herbert, for Christ's sake," the man spoke exasperatedly. "Your sister tells you the head of the establishment you worked for is stopping by and this is your idea of presentable? What, did you think he'd be more at home if you walked around smelling like the clinic?"

Bert sighed, trying to suppress his own ire now. "I lost track of time, okay?"

Kelly brightly piped up, "I'll bring out some tea and cookies. Did anyone want anything else?"

The males declined and Cordelia said, "Please, don't go through any trouble for us," looking between Kelly and Bert.

"I think it's best we get on with why we're here," Jed asserted.

Raul gestured for everyone to get comfortable.

Cordelia sat between Kelly and Fabian on one sofa. Frank started to prop himself on an armrest like Bert, but thought better of his manners and used the ottoman. Both men remained on their feet until Jed went to squat by Kelly and Bert, addressing them with a heavy chest but strong eyes.

"With every bone in my body, I hate to be the one to tell you—"

"Bandit." Kelly's entire demeanor changed with prompt realization. "Someone did take him, didn't they?"

"Yes," Jed confirmed.

"Where is he?" she wanted to know next.

Raul exhaled slowly. "Kelly..."

"Where is Bandit?" she demanded bitingly enough to make Cordelia shiver and Bert stiffen.

"A dog was found in the park," Jed went on valiantly. "I was able to identify the remains. Kelly, Bert," he glanced at the boy as well, "I can't tell you how sorry I am."

The moment the physician stopped talking, phantom gunfire penetrated the room, leaving absolute muteness in its wake.

"Kel…" Bert touched his rigid sister's shoulder.

Cordelia brought a consoling palm to her back. "I'm so sorry, Kelly."

Frank desperately focused on his wingtips and Fabian looked on in considerate silence.

"Jed," Raul received the veterinarian's attention, "are you absolutely sure it's the same dog? We're talking about a great big mastiff here."

Jed replied despondently, "I wouldn't dare grace your doorstep with this otherwise."

Bert stared at a wall painting. "What'd they do to him?"

Raul refuted that with, "We don't need to know the details, Herbert."

"Who did it?" Bert asked next.

"I'm not sure yet," Jed admitted, "but I promise you all, I'm doing everything I can to find—"

In a swift motion, Kelly reached under the glass-top coffee table. She flipped it over with such gusto, everyone near her jumped, making even Fabian form an alarmed expression. Frank and Raul had to hasten out of the way of hurling figurines and other knickknacks. Bert rushed to his feet, utterly dumbstruck.

"Kelly, please," Jed beseeched when she tore by him.

"Kelly Barros." Raul seized the furious figure by her forearms, speaking to her through clenched teeth but trying to keep some measure of delicacy in his voice. "Kelly- girl, you get ahold of yourself! We're all upset. For God's sake, think of your brother!"

Stomach churning, Bert attempted to embrace her from behind, but she jerked away from him as well.

"Get your hands off me!" Kelly screamed at her uncle. "Let go!"

Uncertain as to what stirred him suddenly, Frank got up to strongly reiterate, "She said let go. Stop, you'll hurt her."

A disbelieving Raul retorted, "She's going to hurt someone at this rate." He finally let her snatch away, but ordered, "Stop this! You're hysterical!"

"Shut up!" Kelly shoved him as forcefully as she could before turning her seething gaze on Jed. "Stay away! Stay away from me!"

"Kelly!" Maneuvering through the disarray of broken objects with graceful ease, Cordelia raced to catch up once the older girl fled.

Barely able to grip the banister as she hurried up the stairs, Kelly continued her feverish pace into her quarters. Through glossy eyes, she knocked everything off her dresser with a single sweep of her arm. Sights on her bed next, she ripped off the pillows and linens before flicking the mattress off with the same disregard as the coffee table. Making out one green and brown blur on the floor, she dropped to her knees before it. Her every muscle quivered as she gathered it into her arms.

Cordelia darted in, finding her on the floor, cradling the plush bed. Despite the mess, she detected the chew rope and other small toys in the room. One glance around the room displayed multiple photographs. Picking up one that fell off the dresser, Cordelia's breathing hitched. Through the cracked glass, she made out the spirited canine body of reddish brown fur merrily panting between the sibling pair. Blinking away her own tears, Cordelia went to kneel beside the distraught girl.

"Kelly…"

Shaking with sobs, Kelly leaned on and eventually wound up completely in the secure clutch of the other brunette.

II

When Raul offered beers while simultaneously grabbing one for himself, Jed accepted a light draft. The three boys took cokes, though Bert mostly nursed his. Fabian drank to keep from conversing. Frank distracted himself by taking in the sights of the kitchen. From refrigerator magnets to the wall calendar, R&R Real Estate dominated the décor. He happily crept out back with Bert at the first opportunity.

Removing the tip of his Coors bottle from his lips solely for oxygen intake, Raul looked between his young male guests. "Hold on a minute." He used the bottle to point out Fabian. "Aren't you that transfer who made valedictorian this year?"

"According to the garish sash they deemed so necessary to adorn me in," the Spaniard replied apathetically.

"I can't tell you how many of my clients were hot under the collar over it. You really put our hometown tykes to shame," Raul informed in commendation. "Don't get me started with this guy." He turned to Frank next. "I'm still floored that the same random little freshman who pulled my nephew out of the algebraic gutter became New York City's Scholastic Sovereign."

Frank adamantly prayed that the instinctive cringe that coursed through him at the mention of the title so generously bestowed upon him by The Journal News. His only consolation came from having no photographs included in the article. The same could not be said for the high school paper, but the X-Boy preferred that to having his likeness spread across the entirety of the Lower Hudson Valley.

"That was so overblown, Mr. Ratcliff," claimed Frank. "It's all a numbers game. If I was still in the city, I'd have no chance of reaching the Top Ten. There are more kids on my old block than there are in the whole Westchester High student body."

With another swig of beer, Raul quietly studied the youth. "You have the allure down pat, kiddo." He grinned with furtive favor. "Between those cocoa peepers and that Rock Hudson profile of yours, you almost sold me on that modesty façade. Here," from his breast pocket, the man presented an ivory card, "call me after your program graduation. I have some contacts that will snatch you right up for a part-time position. If none of them interest you, what do you say to tutoring this big lug again?" Raul titled his head to one side to indicate Bert. "With actual compensation for your time and torment."

As he fought against his own reddening visage, Frank dared not even glimpse at Bert. "I'm good, Mr. Ratcliff, really." He still pocketed the card civilly. "I'd rather spend homework time with Bert. It's school that's out to torment us."

"On the subject of compensation," Jed piped up, gaze going to Bert, "I know that after today, the idea of returning to the clinic is unthinkable for you. However, if you give it another shot, I think you would be amazed by the therapeutic relief that comes with being around animals again."

Clearly not anticipating such a proposal, Bert gaped at first. "You want to pay me this time around?"

"That college resume isn't going to pad itself at the molasses rate you're going," Jed quipped good-naturedly. "Earn some cash for the summer then when school starts, you, along with Mr. Tolbert here, are free to use my office to suffer through your studies."

When his nephew kept staring oafishly, Raul reached across the island to flick his ear. "If you're done catching flies on your tongue, don't you have something to say about Dr. Sullivan's generous offer?"

Pried from his inner musings, Bert sheepishly replied, "Thank you, Doc. Let me think about it, okay?" The physician nodded congenially. Looking at Raul next, Bert requested, "Can we go shoot a few?" He used his shoulder to indicate Frank.

"Go on," Raul granted. "You boys have fun and don't worry about Kelly. Your mother used to let her emotions get the better of her far more often when we were growing up. We'll make a donation to the animal shelter tomorrow; maybe get a plaque for Bandit." He brought a hand to Bert's shoulder for a small squeeze. "Do you think she'd like that?"

"Yeah, for sure. Thanks, Uncle Raul."

Frank tried not to be too obvious as he quite readily followed Bert out to the backyard. So much tautness dissipated within him the second the sun graced his raised head.

"So…" Posture entirely awkward, Bert did not look at Frank as he guided them over to his court. "Sorry about my family's…" Coming up short on descriptive terms, he reiterated, "Sorry."

"Hey, man, don't even worry about it," Frank reassured. "I've seen a lot worse from families getting notices like this. It blows being the messenger, but they'll never have anything on the grieving. I am really sorry about Bandit."

"Kel just didn't want to hear it," Bert started dribbling the basketball, "but I already knew he wasn't coming home."

Frank did not comment as Bert took his shot. When it came his way, Frank ran forward and sunk his own free-throw. He caught it when it came down and started to pass it until he got a glimpse of Bert's right hand. Briefly believing it slightly deformed, Frank noticed the flesh colored bandages that went from his middle palm to three or four inches past wrist.

"Geez, dude, what happened to you?"

Confused at first, Bert realized what he meant and tapped his wrist. "Oh, Fourth of July. Me and my friends, a few flasks courtesy of parental liquor cabinets -got a little wild, y'know?"

"Yeah, same here." However much fireworks and frolicking amounted to wild.

Unsure as to what motivated him, Frank watched him line up for his next shot before conducting an X-Ray. Through the bandage strips, the mutated eyes identified twin sets of puncture wounds and a particular lack of skin that would take weeks to heal.

Frank then requested, "Hey, think we could check out your room? My mom will annihilate me if I muck up my school clothes."

Despite all prior humiliation, Bert possessed no desire for solitude and led the way back inside. They used the rear staircase outside the kitchen, which gave closer access to his bedroom.

While Frank walked into the blue space, Bert lingered in the doorway. "Hey, wait here. I'm gonna go check on the sister."

Frank nodded in understanding.

Slipping his hands into his pockets, the X-Boy made a slow stride through the room, aiming his eyes in different directions. The X-Ray revealed nothing but standard building materials beyond the walls. Frank scanned the closet as best he could, which he quickly found loathsome due to the supreme clutter. He knew he kept his own closet cleaner than the average all-American boy, but his also doubled as a sanctum. When his gaze landed on the bed, Frank's pupils amplified exponentially. He hoisted the top mattress at its middle and peeled back the invisible flap made into box spring. A variety of baggies legitimized his X-Ray's findings.

Rapidly getting the bed back in its somewhat neatly made position, Frank made fast work of scanning the dresser. Going around to the front of it, he knelt down and pulled out the bottom drawer. Through the plethora of unfolded miscellaneous lounge clothes, Frank found and tugged out the solid black material. He removed it completely for keener inspection.

Making it back to his room a few minutes later, Bert let loose a relieved sigh. "She's finally calm. I'm bunking in her room later, but I can forget about sleep until the next century. She's gonna have killer nightmares tonight. Kel held it together after our folks, but Bandit was definitely the last straw."

"Got to disagree with you there, man." Seated on the side of the mattress, Frank surveyed him circumspectly. "The last straw'll be finding out her kid brother killed him."

Before Bert could even hope to react, Frank rapidly revealed the dark garment he sat on and threw it to his feet.

Stunned, Bert snatched it up off the floor and took the time to shut his door before fuming, "What the fuck do you think you're doing going through my stuff, Tolbert?"

"Call it community service," Frank retorted audaciously. "I am not capable of believing this, dude. Playing up that stone silent wounded routine downstairs. Acting like you're ready to crack some skulls when you're the one who sacrificed your own dog to a clique of discount ninjas."

As if an acidic eruption would soon burst from his bulging veins, Bert snapped, "Shut up! Just shut your face, Tolbert! I could never do anything to Bandit."

"Only because you're lousy at animal abduction," Frank stated knowingly. "What exactly did you do to mangle your wrist on the Fourth? No burn is going to leave a trail like that. Definitely not without severely discoloring your skin. And if you got too touchy-feely with fireworks, you'd be lucky to walk away with a fraction of your right arm intact. So, what hurt you?"

"None of your business."

"All my business," Frank countered plainly, pushing up off the mattress to stand. "You're the one who tried to take the Dukes' dog. My Xavier Brothers are friends with that family."

Bert raised an eyebrow. "Who, what?"

"Don't even try it," Frank disregarded brusquely "You know exactly what I'm talking about. Scout Dukes? Cute little scruffy mutt? No wonder he didn't make a sound. You probably lured him out with food. Had him thinking you were his new special friend until you tried to kill him." Frank developed a satisfied smirk. "Then, he straight bit the Jesus, Joseph, and Mary out of you."

More uncomfortable than incensed now, Bert fondled the appendage in question. "I didn't want to, okay?"

"Oh, so you just couldn't resist a dare from your little club, right? What's your takeaway, Barros? You get blood on your hands and they keep the smack and coke in high supply?" At the strawberry blonde's astonishment, Frank urged, "If your uncle gives you grief over bad grades and cruddy clothes, what do you think he's gonna do when he finds out you've got thousands of dollars' worth of tweak stashed in your bed?"

"Check out the High-Priest of the Honor Roll." Features wretchedly stormy, Bert imposed on him, leaving only a breath of space between them. "You think you're so smart and slick. If you have any real brains in your head, you won't say a damn word to my uncle."

"I could've been done that if I wanted to." Feet firmly planted, Frank matched glares with the taller teenager. "But I'm not about to make your sister even more heartbroken. You've got all the bases covered there."

"My sister is the only reason I haven't clocked you dead in your holier-than-thou mouth," Bert countered matter-of-factly. "I bet you started patting yourself on the back before you even walked through the door. Coming in here with your cool kid crew. Giving out condolences like we're buddies or something just because you tutored me for a couple of weeks. We didn't even talk at that showboating party of yours."

Frank came back with, "Bet that didn't stop you from claiming the door prize. And I did come over here as a friend. I'm not wasting my breath right now to rack up halo points." He scoffed. "Like I could ever qualify for any. Bert," his voice and features moderated, "I'm serious. You've got to get out of this group and off the crap. I have been there. The high is not worth the fall. And you will fall. Clear through to China, trust me."

"… You've been there?" Bert legitimately laughed in his face. "Einstein Tolbert's "been there". What'd you do, take a few puffs of grass between chasing skirts?"

"What I did was get used as a dealer's currency and almost wound up ass-shanked." Bert stared back at him in genuine stun as Frank went on. "Me and my friends are lucky to be alive. Don't even get me started on how much I disappointed my family."

"Aww," Bert cooed disparagingly, "what happened? Mommy said you could only invite two hundred people to your birthday party that year? Did Charles Xavier give you a boring British talking-to after he ponied up enough cash to keep your pretty face out of the mud?" Bert shook his head dismissively. "You really want to help me? Go back to thinking of me as that retarded upperclassman you used to explain equations to."

A short knock preceded Fabian sticking his head into the room. "Pardon the interruption, hombres, but I believe we've been enough of an imposition."

"Fine." Bert looked away with that.

Sighing inwardly, Frank walked by him to go with the Acolyte.

IIIIIII

Stationed at the circular table, the vaporous mutant finished listing his recent mental distress symptoms. From there, he promptly began working on the detailed summary comparing and contrasting his feelings from yesterday to right after their latest mind session. Though he wrote as thoughtfully descriptive as he could, he could not cease absently doodling some variation of "L/M" on the corners of various pages. Obviously aware of how many thoughts had to be swarming Leon from that day alone, Emma did not act as the contemptuous, hovering matron. Whenever he seemed to stray too deep into artsy territory, a light but pointed clearing of her throat immediately snapped him back to attention.

An abundance of sunlight and fresh air flowed into the suite from the windows and partially open balcony. With the serene atmospheric warmth that defined July as the crowned-king of the season, Leon found himself reminiscing on the legitimately sanguine aspects of California normally smothered by the desolate ones. The sycamore trees at their greenest, grandiose heights transformed them from byproducts of nature to fortified hideaway towers. The spotted doves launched from them, their tiny bodies made gloriously free by their outstretched wings. The unmistakable scent and salty taste of the Pacific, completely infused from surf to shore. Sanctuary from the flames and fury, total submersion in the body of water brought about impermanent gratification.

Leon's gaze also paused here and there to take in the colossal room. He did not have the space ingrained in him to the extent he did the Mag Cave, but still found solace in its quietude. He knew a great deal of that had to do with how much the foremost reigning lady-of-the-house's personal footprint went into it. With a similar expression to that of a mute but curious tyke, Leon observed Emma's pace around the room. Attached to her like an infant orangutan, Brian helped her with light tidying.

Upon locating her platinum pearl earrings that came attached to diamond Xs next to a vase, Emma looked to question her own absent-mindedness. Dipping to her little son's level, Emma placed the delicate dangling pair in Brian's hands and pointed across the way. Without further direction, the toddler scuttled over to his mother's vanity and returned the earrings to their proper place in the jewelry box. On his way back, Brian stopped to stand by Leon's chair and peer up at him. Unsure what the precocious tot sought from him, Leon only kept wordless eye contact with him. When Brian made a reaching motion, the young instructor only sent out one hand in turn, not wanting to lift him due to his hands. The small blonde captured Leon's forearm when it got close enough and raised it to kiss the fingers. He then dropped the limb unceremoniously as he dashed back to Emma.

Studying his hand as if he expected a mystic glow to radiate from it, Leon watched the blondes some more. While Brian definitely showed a higher capacity for potent impish energy, his quirks occasionally reminded Leon of the only other he ever lived with before the mansion. Through whatever bizarre astronomical phenomenon and mandated Anger Management, his cousin had obtained a wife. Leon still internally derided himself for daring to entertain the notion that Cassandra's presence would somehow change things for the better. That consisted of her acting as Jared's rationalization narrator, covertly stashing dinner for him on days Leon could not stomach coming home during woken hours, and cautioning Leon to remain in his room during Jared's worst spells. She did it with the same blithe tone as if she only warned him not to step onto a recently mopped floor.

Lightning in a bottle occurred again when they conceived their offspring. Even in the farthest regions of his mind, Leon refused to consider the developing child as anything else. He never expected it to grow past the first trimester- a merciful end, Leon had thought at the time. Cassandra or, at least, Jared had to have shared the same mindset as him since they did not make it known until nearly the sixth month. Had he not overheard them talking in the middle of the night during the second month, his cousins' excessive whispering and Cassandra's oversized blouses would have clued him in.

After the baby survived both the womb and delivery, Leon noticed some flicker of lightness in Jared's voice and manner. At least, in the company of his family- an affiliation of which Leon stopped qualifying more than ever. Naming the child Seth frequently felt more like another taunting jab from Jared instead of homage to the veteran's, supposedly, beloved uncle.

Yet again, Leon mentally reviewed the events of late last night. He had been reduced to a stiff, voiceless state when Jed began treating his bleeding digits so intuitively. While waiting to be picked up, a jackhammer had run amuck within him. His inability to face Emma or Erik right away had been due to abundant shame. His father's no-nonsense rebuke to get his eyes up had made Leon reverently attentive. He still remembered- almost daily- when little Seth's enthusiastic arrival preceded Jared's malevolent presence all too close to WU. Months of maintaining his re-written life story charred in under a minute, stripping Leon to the bare bones of quivering mortification. Jared had desired his final and most glorious slight against his favorite emotional punching bag. The X-Men came looking- every single time- for their ever troublesome yet peculiarly valued boy.

Leon looked up contentedly when the duo of dark hair and blue eyes made their way into the master bedroom. Once Tommy loosened his hold around his neck and waist, Erik deposited him onto the bed. When the metal wielder glanced his way so meaningfully, Leon held his pen tighter and tapped the notebook as if to offer evidence of his good behavior. His shoulders relaxed at the sly shark grin.

Erik then faced his sister-in-law. "Fair trade?" He indicated Tommy while stretching arms out for Brian.

"Only if I got to keep all of them." Still, Emma relinquished her youngest son to his cherished uncle.

Erik looked between his boychicks once more before making a stylish exit with the giddy tyke on his shoulders.

Emma leaned over to brush the hair away from Tommy's eyes. "Did you and Sean have a nice time?"

"Sure," Tommy shrugged, biting his bottom lip. "Daddy said you wanted to talk to me."

"And you sought me out first," Emma noted fondly. "You wound my aptitude." She took his hand, "Come on, sweetheart," and brought him over to the table with Leon. After she tugged over an additional chair for herself, Emma sat where she could glance between the youths. "I wanted to discuss this whole "mirror misunderstanding" of sorts when you were both up for it."

"I am so sorry, Mama Emma," Tommy practically pleaded, gripping the base of the tablecloth. "I didn't want to lie to you- not one bit- but I got scared when I saw Leon's hands and I didn't know what to do. I didn't even know what to think. My head's still rattling."

"Tommy," Emma spoke with firm tenderness to get his attention as well as encourage breathing, "darling, I know. I'm not pleased about the lie, but I also know that you're a little boy who walked into an overwhelming situation. The brunt of the responsibility is on Leon." Emma faced the silent one now. "You're not only older but an instructor. You must also be aware of Tommy's personal regard for you. A detail that all too likely came in handy when you coerced him into lying for you."

Despite the new inner weight he developed, Leon still clearly articulated, "Yes, ma'am." He peered across the table at the Irish lad. "I'm the one who's sorry, Tommy. Dad and Aunt Em are right. I may have been out of it, but I still backed you into a wall. I appreciate how much you've been there for me, but after everything I've done, I totally get it if you're done with me."

Tommy instantly frowned. "Geez, you really are outta your head. I thought if I told anybody…"

Emma quickly picked up Tommy's sudden discomfort. "Go on, sweetheart."

The boy sighed through his nose. "I thought if I told, you wouldn't want me around anymore then you'd do something worse to yourself."

The multiple waves of shame that washed over him after that sincerely stunned Leon. "No, Tommy, no. I… I can't even picture feeling that way about you. You, Becky, Alex, Frank, me for some reason- we're bound. But I swear you don't have to worry about me doing anything to myself. This was an accident," he raised his bandaged hands, "plus I'm also a very weird grounded that doesn't allow me to be alone with myself."

Tommy's face lit up at that. "Alright!"

Emma briefly dipped her head and inhaled to prevent laughter. "And now that you know he's in capable hands," she spoke to Tommy again, "why don't you go play with the others out back? You've all been too cooped up for summer."

"Thanks, Mama Emma," Tommy reacted brightly. "Stay in one piece 'til I get back, Lee." With that, he hopped to his feet to depart.

Emma smiled after him. "I second that motion."

Less than good-humored, Leon put forth, "I don't understand why you allow me to continue being an instructor. Becky, Trav, Tommy- I keep failing them."

"Leon, you are immeasurably intelligent," Emma stated plainly. "That is why it's so painfully baffling how resigned you are to absurd notion that you will transform into Jared one day. You've made mistakes recently and I can guarantee, dear boy, that you will make countless others in the future. The guilt you feel and desire to rectify them are among the many reasons you are not nor will ever be Jared Osaka. You are Leon Osaka."

Giving her a nod, Leon received a shoulder squeeze from her in turn. As they both resumed prior duties, Leon experienced distraction beyond doing the doodle.

II

Accompanied by the only other male capable of invoking flashbacks of the old country within her, Raven moved in a daze through the basement. As if she had not seen the lower level in years, the shapeshifter braced herself. While she admired Hank's many renovations, the aura of a bad omen stilled seemed to penetrate the space at times.

Outside the medical wing, Raven directed, "Stay here," before proceeding.

Watching the tense but valiant young woman, Nate clutched the doorway and peered in.

"Thanks, Mom," came from the debilitated vessel. With his mother's help, he, at last, wore a black button-up and pants instead of sweats.

Due to the partial strain on his speech, Edna responded by bringing the tea straw to his lips.

"… Raven." When her essence dawned on him, Hank ceased sipping to look back. He beheld the glistening hazel eyes. "Baby…"

"Don't you dare," Raven warned when he appeared eager to rise. She donned her hands with disposable gloves and rushed to sit beside him on his cot. "Look at you." She fondled the left side of his face by his hairline.

"I caught a glimpse." Hank smiled weakly. "Beastly, indeed."

"Shut up," Raven ordered affectionately.

Edna hung back between the brothers Howlett-Creed, all three content to take in the young couple.

"I don't believe it." Avoiding his lips, Raven studied his face. "You weren't even coherent a few hours ago. Your healing factor is finally increasing."

Hank gave off a headshake. "I'm not healing… not that way."

"More like way of comfort food." Alana came through with Hank's chart. "And I'm selfishly saddened because whenever I try that method, I'm rewarded with two additional dress sizes." She walked over and picked up Hank's insulated cup. "I could probably use a keg of this."

Raven looked up in confusion. "What is that?"

"Wolver-tea, depending on who you ask." Alana then explained, "Hank's current bloodwork shows a noteworthy increase in serotonin, endorphins, and even an improved balance in his testosterone. The natural pain relief has eased his aggression and, presumably, sent the correct signals to his brain. That's why his speech and thought process are clearer."

Astonished, Raven stood to take the cup from her. "What did you put in here, Wolverine?"

The questioned veteran answered, "Chrysanthemums."

Raven shot him an unamused look. "Can we be serious, please? What's in this."

"It's true, dear," Edna supported, clearly in a state of disbelief herself. "I know mums are considered healing flowers, but I always took that symbolically."

"It isn't as farfetched as you may think," Alana asserted. "During my travels, I met multiple physicians who derived tonics and remedies from their own garden."

"They treat colds and such the same way in parts of Japan," Victor piped up. "Spend enough time around all this state-of-the-art medical equipment in the western world and the homegrown methods become obsolete real quick."

"Logan," Raven handed Hank his tea and approached the other blue-eyed man affectionately, "thank you so much."

Though he accepted the small hug, Logan confessed, "Can't take credit here, Mrs. McCoy. This was Black Irish's sharp thinkin'."

The shapeshifter's eyes somehow enlarged even more. "Tommy?"

Noticing the unsure lad outside the entrance, Edna made an inviting gesture. "Come in, dear. It's alright."

Posture straightening as his features brightened, Nate stepped in fully. "Hank."

The glowing teen made a lump develop in the scientist's throat. "Nate…" He sized the lean young man up. "Thank God. I thought I… did I?"

"Kiki's fine," Nate emphasized. "So are Trav and Becky."

Before the security men could complain about clearance, Raven informed them, "He wanted to make sure I was safe."

Turning to his wife at that, Hank faced the British you with greater remorse. "Thank you so much for looking out for my family. I didn't think… I thought you'd returned to Boston."

Making a purposeful path, Nate did not cease walking until he stood hardly a foot from the other Ivy Leaguer's bedside. "I'm not afraid." Already in gloves, he presented his hand.

Despite his lack of firm grip, Hank clamped on with Nate.

Raven climbed on the cot to massage Hank's emotionally wrought shoulders. "Do you think the kids can visit soon?"

Hank shook his head and implored her, "Not yet, Raven, please. Let them know I'm improving, but they can't see me. I'm disgusted that they witnessed that rabid beast yesterday."

"They know that wasn't really you," Raven assured him.

"But this is," Hank urged her. "I don't want them to see me verbal but too weak to pick up either one of them."

"He's right," Logan supported and Victor nodded.

Raven caressed hands with Hank and promised, "I understand. Don't worry. What else do you need from me?"

"Dinner," Hank proposed, "with my wife. That's all I need tonight."

The simple request sent Raven back to the early days of their courtship and she eagerly agreed.

II

Hooves kicking up dirt beneath them, the trio of prized steeds galloped across the extensive grounds. Hair flying behind him, Cody hollered jubilantly. He had to resist releasing the reins to perform the same random stunts he did on his bicycle. Similarly, Joey imagined flying with Xander still attached to him, becoming a more magnificent curiosity than even the gargoyles. A formerly fresh air deprived Samantha rode between them, focusing on charging forward. When Hazelnut and Blaze seemed to reach their target destination of the twin beech trees seemingly in unison, both their leonine riders tried to claim victory. When they looked towards Joey for confirmation, they saw that the blonde boy had slowed down to observe the flight pattern of some morning star butterflies. Knowing they would receive no referee assistance there, Samantha and Cody prompted the horses to turn and speed back to base. At Cody petitioning him, Joey managed to peel his eyes away from the exquisite insects to direct Xander to follow them.

Outside the barn, Tommy glided a brush across Steel's gray back and sides while Trav did his mane. Beside them, Kiki fed Franny from a treat bag filled with Erik's special equestrian trail mix of diced carrots, apples, bananas, cantaloupe, celery, red grapes, and raisins. After her pony ate a sufficient amount, Trav switched positions with Kiki so she could surreptitious give some of the mix to Steel. Watching Trav automatically begin brushing Franny, Tommy noticed the peculiarity in the normally niggling younger boy's manner. He definitely approved but wished it could be accredited to something more fortunate weighing in on the seven-year-old's mind.

"Either my eyes deceive me or we took a wrong turn at Albuquerque." The three children faced the direction of the masculine voice as he approached them with the teenage couple in tow. "Because this cannot be Salem children tending to their own horses."

"We better or Uncle Erik says they'll be his horses," Trav informed with no jest in the words. He then properly greeted, "Hello, Dr. Sullivan. Hi, Fabian."

"Hello." Despite being in jeans instead of a dress, Kiki dipped in a quick curtsy.

Tommy bit back laughter as he acknowledged the arrivals as well. He smiled at the special nod and saluting fingers Fabian aimed his way.

"Oh, good glory…" Cordelia managed to rush forward without startling the steeds. She distributed desperate affection between the ponies. "Beautiful, healthy, perfect animals."

"My sentiments exactly, sweetie," Jed sympathized. He glanced to the left as the other three riders made their return, acknowledging him in unison. "Well, well, nice to see this champ getting a little exercise." When Xander came close enough, Jed let him sniff his fingers before petting him. The physician gave his owner a look. "Hint, hint, young man."

Joey drooped sheepishly. "Yeah, we don't get to ride as much as we used to. I get busy with art, my friends, and stuff. I keep Bounty's hutch and bowls up a lot, though."

Entirely unimpressed, Jed put forth, "Do you think that would fly if your parents claimed they were too busy for you, but made sure to care for your baby brother?"

"No, sir," Joey admitted. "I'll do better this summer, promise."

"And I'll hold you to that," Jed said with a good-natured thump to the boy's boot adorned foot before moving on to study the other two horses. "Blaze and Miss Hazelnut appear in fine form."

Samantha explained, "Uncle Erik and I race them a lot."

"So do we," Cody reminded. "We just got through racin'."

"Is that what you call it?" Samantha smirked at him. "I thought you guys were on a leisurely stroll."

Due to their adult guest, Cody kept from sticking out his tongue but shot her his best scathing glare. "You're lucky it's my turn to rake the stalls." He flipped one leg over to lower from Blaze.

Cordelia gripped the ebony creature's reins and caressed his mane.

"Don't forget to fill your dad's compost heap," Samantha brought up coyly.

At a pitch only their sensitive ears could pick up, Cody mumbled, "Gonna fill it with your big fat pink butt," going into the large barn.

"Did you talk to the family, Aunt Cor?" asked Joey.

Arms draped over Franny and Steel, Cordelia nodded spiritlessly. "Unfortunately, yes, heartstrings. They did not take it well. Stunning, I know."

Samantha sighed ruefully. "I wish we could do something for them."

"At least they know for certain now," reasoned Fabian.

Surprisingly, Trav's face displayed some relief. "I'm just glad the dog that bit Daddy wasn't really bad."

Turning to the small boys, Jed ardently stated, "There are no bad dogs, son. No animal is born with wickedness, but dogs, especially, would never intentionally harm a human being unless human beings severely provoked them."

Tommy suddenly excused himself.

When the black-haired boy started off next, Fabian casually inquired, "What has you intrigued?"

Tommy looked back to reply, "Going to the greenhouse to check out the chrys- chryzany- those big, fluffy mum-mum flowers with a zillion petals."

"Wolverine's greenhouse? Hm, I don't think I've ever been inside it," Fabian appeared to recollect. "Mind showing me around?"

"Sure, come on." Tommy waved him over in invitation

After a furtive glance at Cordelia, the Spanish youth went after the Irish one.

"Up you go, little lady." Jed helped Kiki mount Franny's side saddle. While the veterinarian guided them on the left, Trav proprietorially walked along his sister's right to keep up with the trot. With a soft smile, Jed asked, "How is your sweet Grace doing? Are you keeping up with her feedings alright?"

Trav answered, "Yes, sir," while Kiki nodded with equal affirmation. "We mix her milk with soft food for one meal. Mommy's going to have us start adding a few crunchy bits, too."

"Good," Jed approved. "That will help ease her into solid foods without overwhelming her stomach."

Trav told him, "Mommy just wants her to quit having soupy diarrhea."

The gathered broke into instant laughter, particularly a levity craving Cordelia.

"I still can't believe Dad let us keep another cat." Joey got down from Xander to stretch his legs. "We can't even mention wanting a dog again and we only asked two or three… thousand times."

"So, you want the full Noah's Ark package, eh?" Jed quipped, stroking Franny between her ears. "You know, the Xaviers have been our clients since my father ran the clinic. Some of my first licensed work- long, long ago in a world known as my twenties- was caring for the horses on their ranch over in Brewster. Before your grandmother sold the place and they brought in their own vet team. I still remember your grandfather, quite giddily, confiding in me his big plot to get Charles a puppy and something diamond-encrusted to stay out of the doghouse with his wife."

Trav reacted with grand fascination. "Really?"

Joey responded similarly. "Dad wanted a dog when he was little?"

Jed bobbed his head. "Before he lost his father so suddenly. After his mother remarried… I believe your dad wanted a lot of things once. Certain things simply dwindled in his spirit. Try not to hold it against him."

Joey and Trav nodded silently.

II

In the center of the superlative mansion library, the mutated trio surrounded an almost overflowing table. They closely examined an array of statewide guidebooks, leaflets, and extensive advertisements.

Angel tapped one picture of the striking man. "This is buddy we rented the apartments from? Did you and Maya get your place from him, too?"

Sean shook his head. "Ours is from a smaller company Kay and Wolverine found. But this guy's definitely not hurting for business."

"R&R has houses, condos, office spaces." Frank shuffled a stack of fliers. "I'll bet you anything this is the whole reason these dudes stepped to him in the first place. If he could get a big butt-load of dope past his uncle, how easy is it to swipe and copy a few keys?"

"Especially if a few are foreclosures," Sean concurred. "Scattered squatters."

Angel smirked shrewdly. "Try back alley brothels, ooh-boo." The boys faced her and she further enlightened, "You found, what, ten or twelve g's worth of smack in this kid's bed? I don't care whose elbows he's rubbings, no way in the world is he getting hooked up with that much. If he was, his goofy little suburban self would have been ODed or, at least, wound up brain-jacked from experimenting with this stuff like it's cookie dough. He's got to be stashing most of it for the big bosses. They're probably ready to have his uncle's house raided by the cops if he tries to back out."

"Yeah, I was thinking that, too," Frank nodded. "That's why I was really hoping you'd come with me to talk to him again tomorrow."

Angel raised an eyebrow. "I never even met Bert Barros. Brenda was the only sophomore I knew."

"It doesn't matter," Frank insisted. "You do know the fallout he's in for when he finally gets caught up in this stuff. I tried to tell him what happened to me, but he wasn't trying to hear it. He just wrote me off as some stuck-up honor roll. Seriously, I'm straight out of Jackson Park, but all of this grade skipping has me looking like some sorta…"
Sean supplied, "Elite genius, mansion kid, heart-shattering hunk and boss chick magnet?"

Initially muted by the dry bluntness, Frank pointed out, "You're the one who was registered under Mr. and Mrs. Rock Star."

The redhead shrugged. "You're still sexier than me."

"Fine," Frank rolled his eyes before addressing the girl present again. "What do you think, Ang?"

The model asked in turn, "What makes you think he's going to let us through the front door after today?"

"His uncle or sister will," Frank said confidently. "Bert can hate me all he wants, I still have dirt on him. We just have to keep this low key until then. That's why I didn't tell Cordy or Fabian."
Sean locked his gaze on the city native. "Low key as in…"

"Just the three of us," Frank clarified. "No adults, least of all Doc Sullivan."

"Nope." Sean shot the notion down so briskly, both of them stared at him with varying degrees of disbelief. "We're not withholding anything, Frank. Charles and Erik want to know about every new lead. And Dr. Sullivan surrendered very confidential information to us. No way are we using that to give him a reason not to trust us."

"We only need to keep it under wraps until me and Ang are done talking to Bert," Frank urged. "Dr. S really cares about Bert and I want him to have the chance to fess up on his own."

"Which will still be noble, even if Doc has a heads-up already," Sean said matter-of-factly. "Frank, step back and really look at this situation. Dr. Sullivan's patients were compromised by someone who worked at his own clinic. By a kid he was just trying to help. He already told us he doesn't want the police involved, anyway, so it's not like he'll file charges or anything."

"But if he tells his uncle, Bert is military school bait," Frank countered, "or someplace worse."

Sean simply replied, "Good," making Frank's brown irises darken, "that's probably where he should go. They'll force him to get clean in and out."

Frank scoffed curtly. "So, what, you get put in charge and you morph into insta-prick?"

Angel's appalled eyes widened and Sean pointedly came back with, "You'd think you would've learned your lesson about throwing that word around."

The distant reminder caused Frank to bow his head contritely.

"And this just became between the two of you. I need to get back to mama-helping." Angel maneuvered to get in the middle of the pair to side hug them both. "Do me one favor as save the bloodshed for the actual bad dudes." She took her leave to return to the Howlett twins.

Once alone, Frank bent over the table, eying one of the bookshelves blankly.

Sean imitated his movements and gently bumped shoulders with him. "Frank-O."

"I'm…" Frank blinked before looking directly at the older X-Man. "I'm sorry, man."

With a nod, Sean expressed, "I don't get it, pal. You're acting like this kid is Collin. You already said you weren't really friends. Why are you sticking your neck out for this Bert guy?"

"I've been where he is," Frank emphasized. "And even now, I wish I had just talked to you or Wolverine when he got an off vibe about me. You guys could've gotten through this concrete head of mine before crap hit the fan the way it did."

Already suspecting that reasoning, Sean insisted, "It's not the same thing, Frank."

"Yes, it is. One of the main reasons I got into that stuff was because I missed my mom so much. Kelly and Bert's mom died, Sean. If I'd lost my mom like that—"

"What?" Sean cut in, looking at him intently. "If something happens to Auntie Alana, you'll go out skulking the neighborhood in black PJs? Get off on slaughtering animals?"

Frank wavered a little. "Okay, maybe not that extreme, but still…"

"Frank," Sean continued, "my heart goes out for Bert, too, but it's not enough to excuse what he's done. One of the guys who used to hassle me in school quit this crew before we graduated. He was even grossed out over what they're doing to these animals. No motivational speech can help Bert at this point."

"But what about his sister?" Frank implored. "You didn't see her, Sean. Kelly was devastated over Bandit. What do you think she'll do if she finds out it's her brother's fault? That he's got drugs in their house?"

Sean laid a palm on his upper back and spoke softly. "What do you think she'll do if her brother winds up behind bars or ODing?"At Frank's increased forlornness, Sean sent his full arm over his shoulders. "I know this is a tough one and I hate it, too, but we have to be smart about this, Frank-O. That includes being upfront with Dr. Sullivan. Okay?"

Disdain ready to overflow from every crevice of his body, Frank quietly agreed.

IIIIIII

After depositing the two overstuffed Hefty bags into the dumpster- without a rubbish eruption, fortunately- the long-legged male came back inside through the backdoor. Upon stepping into the kitchen, the aromas of recipes from the Emerald Isle replaced the obnoxious stench of summer trash in Liam's nostril. He made a direct path for the sink, stopping for a brief moment to admire the potato and chive casserole Lydia removed from the oven. When he came by her next, Doreen tugged on her husband's arm and fed him a forkful of cauliflower coated in homemade cheese sauce. Liam moaned favorably and snagged a short kiss from her before going to scrub his hands under the faucet.

Spotting a partial glimpse of their hostess out of the corner of her eye, Lydia addressed, "Lauren, I'm storing leftovers in the icebox for your lunch tomorrow. Honestly, incarcerated felons are given better provisions than anything a hospital cafeteria has to offer." She then noticed the younger woman in scrubs with eyes currently engrossed in a lime green book. "You've been home over an hour and you still haven't gotten out of that uniform? What's that you're reading?"

"I found it in the box in Maya's closet." Never turning eyes away from the current page, Lauren eased into a chair at the table. "God only knows how many of these journals she's kept."

Turning off the water, Liam released a knowing sigh. "Oh, boy…"

Voicing her husband's concern, Doreen reasoned, "Do you really believe continuously ransacking her things is going to improve the situation between the two of you?"

Liam asserted, "You're self-sabotaging at this point, Lauren."

"You don't understand." Lauren looked up at them quickly before returning to the first few pages. "She told me she used to leave the house in the middle of the night to visit the crash site. When she talked about considering time travel, I thought she meant childish daydreams she jotted down. But here, she's honestly talking about Einstein's theories, general relativity, quantum effects, perpetual motion, wormholes, Biblical prophets for crying out loud… she hadn't even started high school and she was obsessed with areas of science I didn't even see in nursing school. "How did I not realize any of this?"

"That's called selective vision, dear," Lydia informed, not unkindly. "An unfortunately common occurrence in parenting."

Lauren closed the journal, forming a different pensive expression. "Did Maya say anything earlier?"

Before the women could respond, Liam stated, "We are not your personal messengers, Laur. If you want to know anything about your daughter, make an effort for Christ's sake."

Lauren shot him an incredulous scowl. "And you think you're who exactly? You've visited, what- three times, since our kids have been together and now, you think you're the In-Laws-of-the-Year?"

"Not even on our best day," Liam immediately refuted. "But one thing we've gained from our trial and countless errors is that we can't force a blessed thing on these kids. Sean and Maya are eighteen, married, and surrounded by people that have taken priority over us. It's a sad truth but no less factual. If we can't get past this mutation madness, guess what? By the time our grandchildren come along, we'll be their Lyle Larson."

All of her internal heat dissipated as Lauren found herself unable to formulate a rebuttal.

Reacting to the final dinner participant, Lydia acknowledged him with, "There you…"

Also gaping at her father's attire of brown trousers, leather flight jacket, and aviation cap with goggles covering his eyes, Doreen sunk her face into the closet countertop. "Good. Grief…"

"Uncle Sam called." Liam did not bother concealing his rolling eyes. "He's wants you to sit your asinine backside down before you hurt yourself."

Feet rigidly together and stance tenacious, Flynn declared, "The cry of the sky summons me once again. Question is," he eyed each of them one by one, "who's with me."

Amidst her stone silent question, Lauren frenziedly wanted to know, "Who are you people? And why do I keep letting you into my house?"

IIIIIII

By the flaming gold illumination of the desk lamp, the number of blanketed figures gave the oldest Headmaster's suite the appearance of a refugee encampment. Many would describe the Xavier mansion as such a thing in general. It had started off as the Eye Scream Team claiming Kiki and Trav so that the married McCoys could have an actual full evening together. Since Trav refused to let Kiki out of his sight and both wanted Becky, the youngest telepath believed they would all be better off in Erik's room. To no surprise, Tommy joined them. With Leon on his heels, Alex had needed to wheel in a cot to accommodate the horde comfortably. After unfolding it and dressing the mattress, he shoved it next to the bed as closely as he could.

Frank laid on the far left end of Erik's bed with a listless Trav pawing at his shirt. Next to Trav, Becky reclined against Leon's front while he leaned back on the pillows and headboard. Laying on his side, Tommy wound both his arms around one of Leon's. With Kiki situated on the far right, Scott enclosed her in his arms, his slim frame between the bed and cot. After their cocoa milk and a telepathic visit from Emma, Kiki and Trav drifted off first. For a moment, Leon thought he saw Trav peeking at him, but found the little boy's eyes completely shut when he fully looked at him. He did get confirmation of Kiki's tiny fingers in his hair during their milk. Due to her vacant concentration, Leon theorized that his flowing locks offered some sort of living doll comfort for the atypical tyke. Frank proved distracted also because of his earlier fact finding. Scott had initiated a hug and inquiries of concern as soon as he had Leon in his limited line of vision. As she tuckered out, Becky's grasp on Leon hardly loosened, seemingly adamant in not allowing either of them to wander too far away that night.

Alex sat up on the cot, keeping Grace in his lap, not wanting one of the many bigger bodies to accidentally roll over on her. He went back and forth between rubbing her fur and massaging Scott and Kiki's backs. He used his free hand to read the small WWI hardback that included details about the once celebrated Proud Son of Germany. Still awake himself, Leon considered the Summers brothers, so close in proximity. They shared the name, the chromosomes, the drive yet lineages as vastly different as their physical features. Fingers in Becky's curls, Leon stared at the ceiling as he recalled the conversation in the Havok Hovel a few hours ago.

"You think I don't see what you're doing?" From where he performed leg lifts, Leon glanced at the blonde, who stood with his arms crossed. "Hiding injuries, being reckless with your powers…" Alex walked closer into his personal gym until he stood beside the younger boychick. "You're not just acting up, man. You're getting into stuff you know Hank would throttle you for. Look, I won't pretend I'm the psych major here, but we both know something else is going on."

Not until he stopped speaking did Leon attempt a vague but genuine response. "I don't know…"

Alex watched him with a slightly softer expression. "Is it like when you were playing around with fire last year? Some sort of weird guilt? Or, maybe, are you mad at Hank for being sick?" When Leon's gaze dropped, Alex wasted no time gripping him by the chin to lock their eyes again. "It's both, isn't it? Come on, it's just me, bro."

Absorbing the solace packed in the simple touch, Leon soon parted his lips again. "Nothing like this ever happened to him before. Even his mom says he hasn't been really sick in ages."

From that, Alex easily concluded, "You think this happened to him because you're here now. Because you mean so much to Hank?"

Leon smiled sardonically. "Giving myself way too much credit there, I know."

"Lee," Alex spoke stringently but warmly, "do not do this to yourself. I've been down this road over my family and Darwin. I still have to remind myself that, mutation or nada, there are effed up things beyond our control out here."

Leon asked entreatingly, "How do you stop looking over your shoulder all the time?"

"Who says I stopped?" Alex replied half-humorously. "We might not have control over everything, but that does not give us the okay to be rash and deliberately dense." He squatted, leveling their visages. "We all have to pitch in more with Hank down. Don't make me have to remind you that he's not your only big brother ready and able to tear your tail apart. Do you hear me right now?"

With a nod, Leon said softly, "I'm sorry, Lex…"

The other X-Man's response came in the form of a stomach pat.

A teeny pull on his t-shirt redirected Leon's focus point to his ultra-petite sister. Becky's marginally cracked eyelids somehow reflected curiosity and fret through the heavy fatigue. Leon hoped the expression he developed next reflected reassurance. She proved appeased enough to resume making a human pillow out of him.

IIIIIII

Despite their shared evening meal being light, Hank had an appetite enough to finish most of it and Raven made sure to praise the effort. After they ate, Raven read to him the new poems she jotted down during her recent bouts of restlessness. Since he easily gulped down another sixty-four ounces worth of tea during her oration, they decided to use his catheter again until they saw what morning brought. Raven simply enjoyed being able to wait on her husband, repugnant aspects not excluded. As Hank fell asleep holding his wife's hand, Victor volunteered to stay with him so that Hank could have some more time free of the restrictive manacles. Raven left the infirmary and reconvened with Edna, Charles, Erik, Sean, and Maya. By the newly installed X-TC, they gathered around Jed and Alana.

The veterinarian currently had the floor. "The aftermath of what happened to Hank has had a profoundly detrimental effect on all of you and, worse yet, your children. It only pains me that the disease came from not only one of my patients but a trusted apprentice and client as well."

"We don't blame you for that," Sean rushed to clarify.

"Certainly not," Edna agreed. "We appreciate all you're doing, Jed."

Raven added solemnly, "Thank you, Doctor."
With a genial bob of his head, Jed went on. "Based on the lab work Mrs. Tolbert has tracked and after comparing Hank's tissue with Bandit's, I've discovered that this is not rabies as we know it. That's why Hank's body had the negative reaction it did to the vaccine."

Charles put forth, "We were running on the theory of it being an advanced form that conflicted with his mutation."

Jed replied, "If it were merely an advanced strand, I believe this healing factor of Hank's would have eliminated it already. Still, that remarkable animalistic mutation may be why he's survived this long. This disease is manmade yet, ironically, fatal if used on man. But as with many things, it depends on the dosage. An enormous amount was forced into Bandit."

"That's why this organization has been targeting large, domestic animals in affluent areas," Alana chimed in. "Considering the similar patterns so close to a number of Jed's colleagues, being under the care of an acclaimed veterinarian is also high on the poachers' list of preferences."

Jed shook his head regretfully. "The ever hefty price tag that comes with success..."

"No one in their right mind could have predicted something like this," Erik reasoned matter-of-factly. "Any gift can become a curse when exploited. We never really know where or when opportunists are lurking."

Charles darted eyes towards his brother for a split second.

"It's not as clear as Hank's results because he wasn't directly injected, but in regards to the dog," Alana read from her clipboard, "we found traces of PCP, anabolic steroids, methamphetamine, and several components we have yet to identify."

Maya gawked as it all clicked. "That's why Hank's symptoms have been all over the map. The PCP alone would have sent him off the rails the other day."

"So, they're altering dogs into living weapons," Raven folded her arms as she mused, "and they must be using cats and smaller animals as test subjects for different quantities of injection. The part I can't figure out is, what's the big takeaway here? What, there's that huge a market out there for lethal Lassies?"

"There is in underground dogfighting," Jed imparted. "More popular than you might think. However, I refuse to believe that countless dollars' worth of narcotics are being primarily poured into illegal sporting events. The dogs might make for something of a lucrative side venture, but considering the rate they're going through these animals- particularly mammals- my gut tells me they're trying to perfect the newest super drug in humans."

"We're of like guts," Alana concurred with a quirk of her lips. "You should have seen Hank the morning after he was infected. Higher than a kite and ready to burst at the seams with more stimulation than he had pen and paper to keep track of it all. There are tweakers out there who will rob their kids' lunch money for less than a fraction of a similar high."

"Pardon me," Edna rang out, "but were I interested in shady dealings, I'd take a day trip into Chicago. How does this help Henry?"

"On that note, Mrs. McCoy," Jed conveyed, "there is, indeed, a bright spot to be found here. Knowing what I do now in addition to having Bandit's body preserved, I believe I can devise an antidote for Hank."

Amidst the resulting elation, Raven had to suck in a breath. "Are you serious, Doctor?"

After exchanging a skeptical expression with Charles, Erik asserted, "At a considerable risk, yes?"

"Yes," Jed answered without hesitancy. "As with all vaccines, part of the disease has to go into it. That being Bandit's tissue. As remarkable as Hank's medical equipment is, you have to factor in that while this was part of my studies, it's still amateur hour for me. And obviously—"

"Dr. Sullivan!" The frantic voice echoed throughout the entire lower level before Cordelia sped in. "On the phone- your receptionist has been trying to reach you."

Jed immediately wanted to know, "Is it the ER?"

With reluctance, the girl informed, "It's your house."