"This is your room. Usually, we inspect your rooms from time to time, but since both of you are over twenty-one; you won't have much to worry about. The only thing not allowed will be members of the opposite sex after hours. Tomorrow, we need to have all of you checked out by Dr. McCoy in our med lab, but for tonight, though, just get settled into your rooms. Um, have you eaten already?" After the brief introduction on the ground floor, the students were dismissed, most making a hasty retreat to their respective rooms. Only the senior X-men had stuck around, in part to set an example for the others, but mostly because it was required. Scott had taken Remy and Piotr on a small tour of the facility, a tour which had ended with their new dormitory, all the while Illyana clutching her brother's hand in a vice grip.
"Da. Ve ate at a downtown fast food restaurant an hour and a half ago." Piotr's voice boomed throughout the hallway, his might extending into his voice. As Scott and Piotr stood stock still, Remy lazily leaned against a pale pink wall, an unlit cigarette spinning between his index and ring fingers.
"So when ain't dese 'members o de opposite sex' allowed in our rooms?" Remy shot a wolfish grin towards Scott, who merely returned a hardened glare through his ruby-quartz eyeglasses.
"For you, they're not allowed, period." Scott replied tersely, more so than he had intended.
"Fo me? Dat 'possed ti mean sumethin?" His tone was full of the same swagger he drenched with every sentence, but one look into his black and red eyes, his one obvious physical mutation, and anyone could see there was a mixture of confusion and slight hurt within those eyes.
"Look, we'll be able to go over the rules better tomorrow, Ga-Remy," Scott corrected himself quickly. "For tonight, just get yourself settled in. Dinner is served at six-thirty A.M., so you might want to get some sleep after you unpack." Scott offered the two a weak smile. "Look, um, I'm glad you guys decided to join us. I'm sure you're going be happy here." It was his olive branch.
"Mr. Summers, vhat about my sister. Vhere is she going to sleep?" Scott rubbed the back of his neck nervously, not having considered that issue. He let out a loud exhale.
"Um, we've bought a bed for her, but I don't think that it's going to be delivered until to tomorrow," Scott answered, remembering a conversation with the Professor he had had earlier in the week. "I think we've got a sleeping bag for her, just for tonight. Will that work, Piotr?" Scott asked, making extra care to call Piotr by his actual name. Scott was unsure about these two, Remy more so than Piotr, however Scott saw no reason to cause turmoil. He would be vigilant, no doubts about that, however, Scott had no desires to cause any friction between the new recruits and himself.
"Zhat vill be sufficinet. Zhank you very much, Mr. Summers."
"Great, I'll bring it up for you in a minute."
"Yi Do dat, Summers. Petey, 'm gonna grab de bags out de car." Remy tossed his trench coat onto one of the beds before heading down the hallway, "accidentally" hitting Scott in the shoulder with his own before turning the corner. Scott shot an annoyed look over his shoulder before turning back to Piotr.
"Is he usually like that?" Piotr paused in the doorway, his immense size allowing little to be seen of the room within, as Illyana ran into the room, fascinated by the sheer size of it all.
"Nyet. Remy does not usually behave like zhis. He has been highly nervous about our move into zhis mansion."
"Well, hopefully he'll adapt soon. Look, I'll bring up the sleeping bag in a minute. Do you need anything else?"
"Nyet." Piotr was still in the doorway, his spine straight and his arms slack at his sides.
"Alright, well, I'll be right down the hall if you change your mind." Scott smiled. Piotr seemed to be easier to get along with than Remy. I hope Kitty had an easier time with the girls.
"Ok, like, Tabitha, you're going to be bunking with Amara. We knew you guys are really good friends, and she didn't have a roommate, so we, like, decided to move you guys in to together." Kitty stated eagerly as they approached the doorway, Amara already anticipating their arrival. The petite South American stood in the doorway of the bedroom, her arms folded across her chest. She smiled at Tabitha and Kitty, however, when her eyes met with Wanda's, Amara regarded her with a strange curiosity mixed with caution, as though she wasn't sure either why she was there or if she was a threat. To Amara's credit, however, her hesitation may have had something to do with the scowl permanently etched into Wanda's mouth. Tabitha, however, was oblivious about all of this, as she quickly dragged Amara into their room, mentioning something about "more girl talk." The door slammed shut behind them, leaving Kitty and Wanda alone in the hallway.
"Wanda, like, your bedroom is right down here." The nineteen year old mutant followed her guide down the cavernous hallway towards a door roughly twenty feet from Amara and Tabitha's room, on the opposite wall. Kitty pushed the unlocked door into the room, revealing an empty room with a high ceiling and fine oriental carpeting. Kitty smiled warmly towards Wanda, and Wanda returned a smile back, albeit nervously.
"Like, you don't have a roommate yet, so you get your choice of closets and beds and stuff. You're, like, pretty lucky." Kitty said, a nervous laugh filling the tail end of her sentence.
"Um, thanks." Wanda grumbled back. It wasn't that she disliked Kitty, far from it. Wanda had joined the fight against Apocalypse because of the brunette mutant, her optimism a curious emotion Wanda wished to explore further. However, it was a double-edged sword, as Wanda would also tell anyone willing to listen to her for five minutes that optimism was a fool's road. That was her fascination with Kitty; the idea of all this optimism, this cheer, this...happiness. It was what Wanda feared, and it was what she craved.
"Ok, I, like, told you about the medical appointment you have tomorrow, right??"
"What? I have to go to that? I told the Professor that I didn't want to be an X-man!"
"Well, he did say it was specifically for the new recruits..."
"I figured he meant everyone else." Wanda answered without the slightest hint of irony.
"No, he wants you there. He, like, knows you don't want to join us, like, full-time, but he still wants you checked out by Dr. McCoy." Kitty stated, repeating what Xavier had told her several hours earlier. Wanda's full response was an unintelligible groan, followed by several minutes of silence as Wanda fumed and Kitty shifted nervously from one foot to the other.
Ok, Kitty, it's not your fault," Wanda finally said, feeling slightly sorry about yelling at the small girl. "Look, I don't have to wear one of those stupid blue and yellow things, do I?"
"I don't think so, no." Kitty was staring at the floor, refusing eye contact. Damn it, I'm here for five minutes and I manage to offend one of the two people here who's ever been nice to me.
"Alright, I guess that's something. Look, I, um, didn't mean to yell at you. I'm just a little stressed about all of this." Wanda said, running a hand through her coal black hair and biting her lower lip.
"Hey, we all are, don't, like, worry about it. But anyway, like, breakfast will be right after the session, and then you've pretty much got full run around here." By this point, the wide smile that Kitty usually wore had returned, alleviating much of the guilt Wanda had felt inside.
"Alright, I guess I'll get unpacked and get some sleep. Um, thanks for showing me around, Kitty."
"Hey, like, no problem, Wanda. See you tomorrow morning," Kitty turned to leave the room, but just as she was about to cross the threshold, she had a final thought. "Hey, Wanda?"
"What?"
"Thanks for joining. I really hope you like it here." Before Wanda could offer any sort of response, Kitty had left the doorway, and Wanda didn't feel the motivation to chase after the girl.
"Um, thanks." Wanda responded to the empty room before turning to her large black duffel bag and unzipping it, revealing the personal contents within. She pulled out several articles of clothing, neatly folded, and placed them next to the deflating bag. She balanced the clothing on her forearms and brought them over to the closet, hanging the shirts on the hangers provided. Before pushing her pants into the drawers below the main closet, she pulled a small cherry wood frame hidden in the folds of a pair of jeans. The frame contained an old photograph, picturing a man of roughly forty clutching two small children, one a grinning boy with white hair and blue eyes, the other a girl with a more morose expression and black hair, but the same blue eyes. Wanda set the frame down gently on the bedside table, never taking her eyes off it for a second.
"You said things would be different after Apocalypse, father. So why did you choose Pietro and not me? Did-did I do something to upset you?" Wanda sniffed, holding tears back until her eyes burned, determined not to cry. Quickly scanning her eyes about the room to make sure no one was there, Wanda dumped the half-empty bag next to the bed, vowing to unpack the remainder the next day. She clicked off the lamp and, after throwing on a pair of worn pajamas, crawled under sheets, and as her eyelids grew heavy with a long day of events, she let one last sentence escape her lips. "I just wanted to make you proud, father..."
"I'm back, Jean. Just like I told you I'd be."
"Why Scott, I was about to send out a search party," Jean grinned. She lay in Scott's bed, clad only in a nightgown, a book open in her lap. A table lamp next to her was lit."Did you get Remy and Piotr settled in for the night?" Scott stripped off his t-shirt, choosing to sleep only in the worn pair of pajama bottoms he had donned before brushing his teeth.
"Yea. I gave Piotr a sleeping bag for Illyana, but that's only a temporary fix. Hopefully, the bed will arrive tomorrow. I don't think it's a good idea to have a four-year-old sleeping on the floor for too long."
"You worry too much, Scott," Jean said with a grin, closing her book and setting it gently on the nightstand. "You said the professor ordered the bed last week, with expedited shipping. It'll come soon enough." Her answer perplexed Scott, not with the words but the relaxed nature in which they came forth. Jean's behavior had been up and down all day, and Scott hoped that a few days away from her college would do her some good.
"Yea. Piotr really cares about his sister a lot."
"I noticed. She was how Magneto kept Piotr working for him, right?"
"As far as I know." Scott stated with confidence as he crawled into bed next to Jean, throwing the sheets on top of him. Jean went into a state of deep thought for several minutes, a fact that did not go unnoticed by Scott.
"Is Piotr the only one who was blackmailed into working for Magneto?"
"I'm not sure. The professor hasn't been able to find much information on Pyro, and Remy hasn't been much easier, " Jean made a general noise of comprehension, prompting Scott to inquire further. "Why?"
"No reason, I was just curious. Am I keeping you up?"
"Not at all, but remember breakfast times around here."
"Ah, yes. Seven A.M. sharp, according to Logan, and not a second late." Jean grinned.
"Well, this won't come as a surprise, but he hasn't exactly relaxed that standard." Scott answered, putting his hands behind his head. Jean thought deeply for second, dancing two fingers across one of Scott's pectorals.
"You don't think he'd bend the rules, just once?" Jean said, flashing her boyfriend her best puppy dog eyes. "I was hoping we could get some breakfast a little later in the day?"
"You know, I think that could be arranged," Jean kissed Scott on the lips, a full, deep kiss. "So what time did you want to get up tomorrow?" Scott asked, keeping a solitary hand steady on the small of Jean's back.
"Well, I'm a little worn out from the whirlwind that was today, so would nine be ok?"
"That works, sweetie," Scott answered, reaching for the alarm clock and fiddling with the alarm controls. "There. I've set the alarm for eight. That should give us enough time to shower and get out of the mansion, right?"
"It should," Jean yawned, laying her head on her pillow. Her vibrant red hair fell around her, forming almost a halo. "I love you, Scott." Scott smiled down at her, feeling nothing but elation. He spoke a small sentence before switching off the lights.
"I love you too, Jean."
Any meal around the institute could be calmly described as a tumultuous affair, and breakfast was no exception. Much of the student body was still in the upper echelons of high school, and the idea of waking up early in the morning was in no way foreign to any of them. The students rotated between cooking, setting the table, and cleaning up afterwards, in a pattern that had been designed to teach responsibility, although many of the students saw it more as punishment. On this particular morning, however, the students were even more rambunctious than usual, all because of the new recruits. From all over the kitchen and dining hall, voices and questions could be overheard.
"Are they here yet?"
"I hope I don't have to sit next to that Russian one. He could kill me with one blow!"
"Is that one with the long hair French?"
"How long you think before Wanda tries to kill us?"
"Guys, shut up, I can her them coming!" An unidentifiable voice shouted in a stage whisper. The voice was correct, as Remy, Wanda, Piotr and Illyana made their way down the main staircase. Students scrambled to find seats next to their friends. Wanda was the first to enter, grabbing the first available chair closest to an exit. Piotr found two empty chairs up near the teachers, he and Illyana setting themselves down between Ororo Monroe and Kurt Wagner. Remy was the last to enter, lazily strutting into the dining hall as though there were all the time in the world. Rogue noticed him, she noticed the early morning grin and the mischievous flash in his eyes, and her veins filled with dread.
It is too damned earlay in tha mornin ta deal with him, please don't make him sit neah meh, Rogue thought, focusing on the empty chair to her right. She couldn't tell for sure at the time, but Rogue would later swear that sweat was pouring down her forehead in rivulets. However, in the space of an instant, Remy instead grabbed a seat several feet down, near Sam Guthrie, slouching slightly in the oak chair. Rogue let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding before turning to Kitty.
"Ya know, Ah think this maght beh a good day fahr once."
"Huh?" Kitty asked, distracted.
"Uh, Nevamahnd." Rogue answered quickly, seeing Jamie Madrox emerge from the kitchen toting a pan filled with scrambled eggs.
Most students considered themselves lucky if they could keep down one plate of student-concocted food. Wanda had wolfed down four platefuls without even blinking. Most students enrolled in high school had already left in institute-provided cars, and those that were no longer in high school had departed in the direction of the showers. Piotr and Illyana had followed Doctor McCoy in the direction of the Medical Bay, Piotr volunteering the both of them to go first for medical physicals. The only people in any semblance of close proximity were Kitty, who had landed dishwashing duty, and Logan, who was engrossed in the Sports section of the local paper. Wanda gently lay her fork down on her plate, determined, now that she was full, to avoid the Doctor for as long as she possibly could. As far back as she could remember, doctors , hospitals, anything medical caused a cold shiver to run down her spine and her heart to seize with dread. Pushing her plate away from her, she quietly slid out of her chair and tiptoed toward the exit.
Wanda and Scott, please report to my office as soon as is possible. Wanda glanced around, unsure of from where the voice had come. She recognized the refined British accent as that of Professor Xavier's, however he was nowhere to be seen in the cavernous dining hall. As she dwelled upon that fact, it also occurred to her that she hadn't seen Scott at breakfast, although she hadn't exactly been looking for him.
"Where are you?"
I am projecting my thoughts telepathically-
"You're in my head?!" Wanda shrieked, loud enough to interrupt Logan's trance-like stare at the tiny newsprint in front of him.
"What the hell are you screamin' about?"
"He said he wasn't going to go into my head without permission! How come I can hear him in my head?"
I am not in your head, Wanda, I am merely projecting my thoughts. I have no access to your thoughts or memories. Wanda clenched her fists, letting them take on an electric blue tinge.
"Stay out of my head." Wanda seethed through gritted teeth, her voiced low and menacing.
Logan, would you please direct Wanda toward my office? The telepathic question came across as frustrated, or as frustrated as possible for a disembodied voice.
"Sure thing, Chuck." Logan stated in a monotone, his eyes returned to the paper. His eyes roamed from left to right across the gray newsprint.
"What the hell is he going to do to me?" Logan remained quiet. "What the hell do you want with me?" Wanda questioned more insistently, letting her hands take on their natural tint as she crossed her arms across her chest.
"Cut it with the dramatics, kid. Chuck ain't gonna do anything to ya," Logan refolded the paper and tossed it to the tablecloth. "Now follow me. And don't interrupt me while I'm checking scores."
Upstairs, Scott had received the same telepathic message as Wanda. The first thing he did was check the alarm clock, which read seven-forty-five. Figures, thought Scott as he ran a hand through sleep-mussed hair. He turned to look at Jean, still curled up asleep in the fetal position. Scott smiled, turned away and sighed. Alright Scott, time to go to work. He jotted down a quick note for Jean on a piece of loose paper, leaving it on the bedside table before quickly throwing on a pair of khakis and a clean shirt. Scott quickly stuffed his feet into the nearest pair of shoes and drew a comb through his hair several times in quick succession. I love everything the Professor's done for me, Scott thought, staring at his red-tinted reflection in the mirror. But sometimes the hours it takes to be an X-man suck. He threw another glance towards Jean, still asleep, before shutting the door.
Professor Xavier's office was beautiful, and there was no other way to describe it. As one entered, their attention would immediately draw to the tall fireplace, constructed of Italian marble and crowned with prized artifacts and antiques collected from around the world, many priceless. Above the fireplace, a large painting hung; a Xavier family portrait that dated back four generations. Xavier's desk stood, proud and intimidating, another priceless antique that spanned his family's history. Its construct was of maple with gold trimmings, and various nicks and cuts in the wood adding to the opulence of the desk rather than detracting from it. On the walls to the right and left stood two floor-to-ceiling bookcases, packed from end to end with first editions and hardcovers.
"Scott, thank you for coming. Please, sit down," Welcomed Xavier from behind his family desk. The Professor motioned towards two leather and wood chairs positioned in front of the desk. One chair held the body of Wanda Maximoff, her arms crossed across her chest and her disgusted expression both suggesting this was, in fact, the exact last place she wished to be at that moment. Scott took the chair next to her, Xavier speaking as soon as Scott had taken his seat. "I have a mission for the two of you."
"Hey, how many times-"
"I am aware of your opposition towards joining our team full time, Wanda, and I intend to honour your desires. However, if you are to live here, you will be expected to perform the same chores around this mansion as every other resident. I believe we discussed this at length earlier," To Scott's amazement, the sneer scrawled across the lower half of Wanda's face seemed to grow, but Xavier's words had their intended effect, Wanda slowly leaning back into her chair and again crossing her arms across her chest with a frustrated groan. Satisfied, Xavier continued. "As I was saying, I have a mission for the two of you. Wanda, you informed me that Mystique has been away from the Brotherhood house for close to four months, is that correct?"
"Yea, since New Year's." Wanda mumbled, still giving off an aggressive body language. She was turned as far from Scott and the Professor as the arms of her chair would allow. Her arms were hugging her ribcage firmly, the fingers of her right hand repetitively drumming her left bicep, and her pale face was contorted into a mixture of boredom and anger.
"That concerns me greatly, especially because of her responsibility toward the boarders under that roof. Mystique opened her doors to them, and it needs to be seen that she honours that responsibility."
"Uh, Professor, not to be rude, but this isn't the first time she's pulled something like this. Mystique has gone off the radar, before, and she's always surfaced."
"Yes, and the last time she did so it ended with my home reduced to a smoldering hole in the ground. If Mystique is planning something, I would like to have some idea of what exactly it is before she has a chance to attempt such a feat for a second time."
"Professor, are you sure this is the best plan? Mystique has attacked without reason before; it doesn't really seem smart to give her a blatant reason to attack." Scott stammered at the end of his question, suddenly very aware of Wanda's presence no more than two feet to his right. His face suddenly felt flush, and his forehead dotted with tiny beads of perspiration. The chair became, in an instant, very confining.
"That is a risk I fear we must take. Locating her is paramount, however, any relevant information you find would be greatly appreciated," Wanda took this all in with a complete air of indifference, while Scott's reaction was more easily read, however by a small margin. The right corner of his lips had tugged downward slightly, and his brows had drawn themselves closer together. It was a slight change, one he was no doubt attempting to conceal. Wanda failed to notice, most likely due to the fact she was not actually facing Scott, but instead staring at the burgundy and mocha wall. The professor did notice, although whether that was due to his powers of observation or his powers of telepathy was ambiguous. "Scott, there is nothing underhanded about this task. I merely want to know where Mystique has been for the past four months. If she has anything planned against us, however, I would prefer not to be blindsided." His voice was firm, but not so much as to sound desperate or demanding. Scott remained silent for several minutes, enough for even Wanda to sense a divide between the two, one that had not been there when Scott had first entered the office.
"Alright." A single word of confirmation before Scott simply pushed his body out of the chair by the arms and briskly exited the office, shutting the door behind him. Wanda let her eyes dart between the door and Professor Xavier several times before speaking. She could see that Charles was struggling to maintain a calm demeanor; however, she saw reason to aid him in that task, seeing that he had given her something else to do.
"So, is that the end of the meeting?"
"Yes, you are dismissed Wanda." She wasted no time exiting the office, her right hand playing with the hem of her T-shirt. Xavier waited until the doorknob clicked into place before burying his head in his hands. He turned his wheelchair around to face the high floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the west end of the estate. In a hushed voice, he spoke only to himself.
"With every step I make, I slowly turn into what I swore I never let myself become. How did I let this happen?"
Outside the office, Scott was pacing back and forth, too wrapped up in his own thoughts to notice Wanda standing and watching.
"Hey, nice job in there. Good to know your head isn't permanently up Xavier's ass." Scott snapped his head up quickly, acknowledging Wanda with a bothered expression.
"He's asked some difficult things before, but this is completely different. He's asking us to break into someone's home, and possibly steal their things."
"And you agreed to do it for him." Wanda said with a prideful smirk as Scott stopped pacing.
"Because I still trust him," Scott's expression was as firm as his stance. "He's treated me like a son since the day I walked in here, and I'm willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, but I don't like the idea of breaking into someone's home." Wanda was slightly shocked at this display of conviction, the other members of the Brotherhood not being the most hardened of men. Her face did not waver for a second, however.
"Well, if you're still going go over there, do you mind waiting until after three? That's when Freddy goes to work, and this probably something we should do when the house is empty." Scott opened his mouth to protest when he remembered the breakfast plans he had made with Jean the previous night.
"Actually, that will work out perfectly, Wanda. Just meet me in the garage at two-thirty, alright?" Scott said, already anxious to move.
"Yea, whatever." Wanda answered, Scott already moving before she had finished her answer.
The black van chugged and sputtered down Ryland Street, the scraped tailpipe belching noxious black fumes at every opportunity. The van looked like it had come straight out of 1976, with one side sporting a fantastical portrait of a unicorn surrounded by blue fog, and the opposite side covered in a detailed portrait of a middle ages warrior engaged in a fierce battle with a purple dragon, fire spewing from its mouth as the warrior held his left arm aloft, his silver shield blocking the fire as his right arm remained slack, clutching a menacing broad sword. The back of the van was pasted with various bumper stickers, some supporting candidates in long past elections, others of various heavy metal bands, while still others held unique sentences of "wisdom," one of which proudly proclaimed, "Ass, Gas, or Grass: No One Rides For Free." The van groaned to a halt in front of the Brotherhood house, where the mutant known as Frederick Dukes was standing outside, waiting. The rear doors flew open in an instant, the lanky body of a Caucasian male with long, stringy auburn hair and glasses leaned out from within the automobile.
"Yo, Freddie, time ta make the burgers!" His tone was jovial, if a little hoarse. Freddie waddled over to the van, his gait surprisingly quick for a man of his immense size. The two slapped hands together, then Freddie uneasily pulled himself into the van, the back end dipping dangerously close to the ground, yet the van did not actually tip over. The doors were pulled shut and the ancient engine coughed to life again, the sounds of Led Zeppelin floating through the air for two full blocks.
Once the sounds of Jimmy Page had faded sufficiently, Scott pulled his convertible from its hiding place behind a grove of trees roughly half a block down the street, pulling into the driveway and killing the engine. The well-maintained car stuck out painfully in the surrounding lawn, patchy with crab grass, and the dilapidated two-story in front of it. Scott had forgone his official uniform, instead wearing his usual outfit of khakis and a polo shirt, while Wanda had decided to wear her uniform, consisting of a skintight scarlet corset and leather pants that left little to the imagination. There were several small rips in the pants that had been hastily sewn together with black thread. All this, coupled with a long trench coat, also in scarlet, and her codename of Scarlet Witch was left fairly obvious, although some thought a more appropriate name would have been Femme Fatale, given the overtly sensuous outfit and slightly homicidal behavior.
"Ok, Freddie's out of there, but where is everyone else?" Scott asked as they approached the door, several cracks and dents in the wood, jutting out, as though they had come from inside.
"They left." Wanda grumbled shortly.
"Thanks for the insight." Scott mumbled to himself in return as the two mutants entered the house, where the state of disrepair on the outside continued on throughout the interior of the domicile. Ignoring the overflowing piles of garbage in the kitchen and the worn, patchy furniture in the living room, Wanda led Scott up to the second floor.
"Look, I want to grab a few things I forgot. Mystique's room is the one at the end of the hall." Before Scott could ask any questions, Wanda turned and disappeared behind the nearest doorway, her coat billowing behind her. Scott sighed before grudgingly approaching the closed door at the end of the short hallway. He grasped the brass knob firmly, only to discover the door had been securely locked. Upon closer inspection, he found that the original lock was destroyed beyond repair. The scorch marks around the busted lock told Scott that Tabitha had treated the Brotherhood house pretty much the same way she had treated the Mansion. Six inches above this lock, however, was a very obviously new deadbolt. Whatever lay within Mystique's sanctum, it was obvious she considered herself the only one worthy to be privy to such information. Scott grimaced at the heavy wooden door for several minutes before lifting up his glasses enough to send a beam of energy from his eyes to the deadbolt, disabling it enough to allow entry into the bedroom.
The room was truly a diamond in the rough. Unlike every other room in the dilapidated house, this one was in near-pristine condition. The centerpiece to the expansive chamber was, without a doubt, the four-post canopy bed, constructed of fine maple and dressed in fine linen. All the furniture in the room was high end, from the antique vanity directly across from the bed to the chest of drawers that looked as though it had come directly from Renaissance-age Europe. Scott uninterestedly pushed through several of the drawers, finding nothing of any worth, mostly old receipts and several books. Closing the drawer lowest to the floor, Scott let out a sigh before standing up and pulling a small tube of lip balm out of his pocket. Applying a small bit to his chapped lips, the tube fell out of his hand as he was about to drop it back into his pants pocket. Uttering a small curse to himself, he got down on his hands and knees, reaching an arm underneath the dresser. Moving his hand across the hardwood floor, his finger suddenly hit a loose floorboard, and several seconds of blindly fiddling with the piece wood produced the desired result, as it popped up from the floor, allowing Scott to reach into the now-exposed hole, his hand grasping several photographs. Scott pulled the photographs out of the small hole and righted himself somewhat, leaning back on the bed and sitting cross-legged on the floor. The first photos were all of a young girl playing in a yard, sitting around a table with various dolls and stuffed animals. There were empty tea cups at every chair, and the girl, although clothed from her neck to her feet, was smiling widely. Scott suddenly became very aware of where he was, and he felt guilty, but he felt possessed, unable to stop looking at the photos. After several of Rogue playing with her dolls, there was one of Mystique sitting at the table, in her natural, blue skinned state. Rogue was grinning wildly as she offered Mystique an empty porcelain cup as Mystique smiled, actually smiled, down at the girl. Scott had never seen Mystique with a smile that did not contain all the malice a single soul could possibly muster. Here, she had a natural, good-natured smile. Scott stared at the picture for what could have easily been an eternity, seeing it but not truly comprehending it. After a while, he shook his head, quickly placing the photograph on the floor next to him, in a pile of other photos he had already seen. At that moment, Scott made a concrete decision to get these photos to Rogue, deciding that she should see them at least once. The remainders of the photos were of Rogue, Mystique, and a blind woman Scott recognized as a companion to Mystique; however, he was unable to place her name. He neatly collected the photos in a pile, and placed them in the pocket of his pants, and was about to leave when he impulsively decided to take one more look at the hidden cache underneath Mystique's floor. Running his hand through the interior of the hole, he was rewarded with two polaroids. What was contained on those pieces of synthetic plastic and liquid crystals made Scott's jaw hit the floor. Before he could stop himself, he was screaming for Wanda, the one witness he knew was within a close distance.
"What the hell are you screaming about?" Wanda screamed herself, standing in the doorway with her hands balled into fists.
"Take-take a look at this." Scott stammered out, a trembling hand holding out the two photographs. Wanda stomped over and snatched the photographs out of Scott's hand. The first one was of a small, blue baby in a bassinet, a pointed tail visible through the bright blue blanket covering most of the infant's body. A scrawled message at the bottom of the photo read, "Kurt, 1987."
"So, it's a baby picture of Kurt. Big fucking deal."
"Look at the other one." Wanda complied, but letting out an angry sigh before doing so, as though she considered all this beneath her. The other photo was similar, of a small baby in a bassinet, blue skin, yellow eyes, and a pointed tail grasped in the infant's three slender fingers. However, the blanket was colored a bright pink instead of blue. In addition, the message at the bottom of this photo read, "Talia, 1987." Wanda quirked an eyebrow as her anger dissipated in place of confusion.
"Since when does Kurt have a sister?"
A/N: I think that's a suitable cliffhanger. I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter; I'll hopefully have the next one up soon enough. Oh, and for the record, there will not be any OC's in this story. Remember, I don't own the X-men, and I make no money off of this story. All I ask is that you review. Thank you, and good night.