Hey everyone! Thank you so much for the support I keep getting for this story, it means a lot to me when I check my phone after two solid hours of bio studying and see that I have all these lovely reviews from you guys! I am not done with midterms or exams (seriously, as soon as I'm done with one I have two more) but I will try to write more often when I'm not super busy.

Okay, so this is kind of short... Which I know sucks a little because I made you guys wait for it for over two weeks, but it's pretty much a precursor chapter to the next story. After this it's not going to jump from year to year to year, it's going to be a solid block of chapters for the next few years... Just one more year to go and then... well, read and see. ;) Thanks to mpathy, who totally gave me inspiration to write this chapter from Sean's point of view!

I love you guys! Please, keep reviewing!

P.S. - sorry for all the swearing, but frankly, I don't blame Sean and I think it's in character just because of what is going to happen/what the boys are talking about. Please don't ask me to change the rating, it's only this one chapter.

Chapter Six: To Listen (July 1966)

"No fucking way."

My eyes are practically bulging out of my head and my breath feels like it's pummeling my chest, but Alex and Hank are just nodding - like this is a good idea, like this is sane. Which it's not. Totally not. I made a comment, that's all, about if Magneto wasn't in the equation the reason that Anya is currently in trouble - with the Prof of all people - wouldn't be happening. But they agreed. Which they shouldn't have. They don't usually.

Why did they have to choose right fucking then to listen to me for once?!

"It makes sense. No Erik causing a war between mutants and humans, no war," Hank reasons - and oh god the fact that Hank is applying reason to a stupid thing I said is way too fucking scary!

"Like hell this is gonna work!" I yelp, but they aren't listening to me again. Why is it when I am being sensible they couldn't give a yellow rubbery fuck but when I'm talking complete shit then they listen?!

"Pentagon's going to be tightly controlled," Alex muses, looking out the window to where our sister is chasing Jesse and Maxine around the yard (well, trying to - she all of a sudden hit a massive growth spurt and is tripping over four inches of extended legs more than she is running. And let's face it no one can really chase twelve-year-old Maxine). Hank just waves a furry paw dismissively.

"Security codes are easy. Getting him out is going to be way harder."

"And what the hell are we going to do when he actually is out?" I demand. Since my stupid comment set them off they don't seem to be paying attention to anything but their own deranged brains. Alex just rolls his eyes.

"I can blast the building to pieces in a heartbeat. If you can fix my suit then I can control it enough to not kill anyone." Hank is nodding and talking about what he needs to fix the suit while I just shake my head and mutter obscenities.

Dude, what the actual hell?

I can't take much more of this, though I know pretty soon they're going to be chasing me down and forcing me to help with this shit-brained idea. Break Magneto out of the fucking Pentagon and introduce him to his daughter? Uh, no. Besides the fact that no, bad idea, there's the whopper of a guess what there's a ninety percent chance that your daughter is human but we want to wait until she's had her period (and I can't believe I even thought that ew that's just nasty even if she wasn't my sister) before we start running multiple tests to confirm it but we need you to meet her anyway so that you don't start a war she is determined to fight in.

Yeah, the xenophobe isn't going to like that. At. All. Provided he doesn't just kill her when he meets her, what's to stop him from taking over the world anyway once we set him loose? Or starting the war that Anya is already begging the Prof to let her train for? We'd be right back at square one. And then we'd really be majorly fucked because Magneto would be out.

I look out the window and sigh. Anya is laughing as she tumbles into Jesse and knocks them both over. She looks so… happy. They all do. But at fourteen the kid's not stupid; she already had to drag her best friend out of her old school to protect him from humans like her (physically if not mentally) while he was going through his transformation, and she knows she can't let Maxine go anywhere without heavy makeup and a coat to hide her tail and wings. It's not fair but more importantly, it's causing massive panic. People who are even a little bit different are being shot down and told how wrong they are. How they are going to hell. How they are freaks and morons and killers. Maxine cries when she hears the comments; Jesse clenches his jaw and tries to pretend the words don't bother him; and Anya…

Anya knows where a fight is. And damn it if she isn't like her dad, because holy shit she is almost salivating for it.

I shake my head. She's Erik's kid alright.

But this is still a stupid idea, because his kid or not, who even believes he's going to accept that she's his daughter when he hears she's not a mutant? Not homosuperior? Actually, who even thinks Anya will want to have anything to do with him? She makes a face whenever anyone asks her who her "real dad" is and mutters angrily whenever "Erik" is mentioned in passing.

This is all kinds of wrong.

But are they listening to me anymore? Nooooo!

I grimace and rub a hand over my face. This…. God there's no way out of this is there? War is coming. It hit Vietnam already, and more and more men are shipped across the ocean to die. Any day now Alex and I could get our own letters from Uncle Sam, calling us up. What then? Hank won't be called, that's for sure. And certainly not the Prof. But Alex and I could be. Jesse too for that matter in a few years. He's gotten pretty good at subtly watching the world through his hands, so much so if he wears dark glasses you don't know he's blind. I have no doubts about my little sister being stupid enough to try to get embroiled in the thick of war if we were to go. Maybe not for me (and boy does that sting to admit) but the second Alex is called, she'll be shaving off her hair and pulling a pack over her shoulders, kid or no.

Which, come to think of it, she's really not.

If war doesn't come to this house, this home, in the form of a letter from the Department of Defense, then it will come in a full out mutant versus human battle. But I'm not sure taking Erik out of the equation - whatever that means - would help. One day humans just aren't going to tolerate us… And either that will lead to our acceptance…

Or...

I shudder and push the thought from my mind. I need a joint. Thinking like this is only going to drag me into a funk. I slouch my shoulders and hope that the not-so-kids aren't going to need the goof right now because I need time to mellow all this shit clamoring in my head out.

I can't do this.

His voice is so clear I almost turn around to see if he's behind me, muttering to himself like he does - like he's caused Hank and Anya to start doing - when he's working through a particular problem. But he's not. There's no chair, no warm smile and sad blue eyes, no fatherly figure, just a voice lingering in my mind that shouldn't be there. I frown and start heading towards the study, a sinking feeling in my gut. The closer I get to the Professor's study the more I can feel the anger and pain, like wading out into deep water with the uneasy sensation that at any moment and underwater current will sweep your feet out from beneath you and you'll be lost beneath the waves.

God I hope that doesn't happen.

The door isn't open, which is weird enough. I don't ever think I've seen the door closed before. Well…. except... when Erik lived here… Nope, not going to think of why, thank you very much, that is my parental person, do not ask me, I don't want to know.

Again, the soothing voice of my professor trips across my mind, broken and so full of grief and rage I wince. You need to be here. I can't… I can't do this. I wonder if I could possibly open the door without him seeing me. Steeling myself, I try anyway. What I see makes my breath catch and my heart hurt. Charles is slumped sideways, his head in his hands. I don't know, and I wouldn't bet on it, but… But I think he's…

No, no way the Professor is crying…

Right?

He's not done yet, and I see his hands reflexively grip the sides of the wheelchair in a white-knuckle grip. For a wild second I think he's going to stand and start pacing. But he suddenly lets go and tips back She wants to fight in a war, Erik. You're war. She's already decided. She thinks she has to fight, to choose between… Erik… You need to be here. You need to stop her. I cannot see my daughter go into a battle any more than I can see my sons go. Do not make me. He rubs a hand furiously over his face and wheels to his desk. Please. My children… I cannot… Not… They've already been through so much… Erik, why did you leave me? Why are you making me suffer through this alone? Why?

His face… God I don't think I've ever seen such pain on a person's face. Or seen how quickly pain turns to rage. Rage that looks entirely out of place on Charles' - good, kind Charles who held my baby sister when she had a nightmare, patched me up when I crashed into a wall while flying, showed Alex he is more than a weapon, who lets Hank know that just because he is different doesn't mean he's wrong - expressive face. His hand shoots out and grabs the nearest bookend and, with surprising strength, hurtles it at the nearest wall. I flinch as wood dents and splinters, raining down on the expensive carpet.

WHY?!

It's an explosion of emotion more than of words, an outcry of rage, passion barely kept under wraps by his level-headedness and the thought of us. I swallow hard and brush at my cheeks - and no, I am not crying for my father figure, I had lint on my face and it was irritating. I close the door as silently as I can and walk down the hallway. The farther I am from the study the less of his telepathy clings to me, until I'm at the end of the hall and it's not even a faint tickle along the edges of my consciousness. I know I was the only one that heard that.

And now I wonder if I was the only one who no one ever listens to.

XXX-XXX

It's dinner later, and if you don't know us, you'd think nothing was wrong. We're all seated around the table. The second we sit down though we know something's wrong. Anya is sitting as far from Charles as she can, and stubbornly refuses to look at him or to make much conversation beyond polite and cool responses. Jesse is her buffer - I exchange an eye-roll with Alex as the besotted kid immediately puts himself between the two of them, taking sides - and a confused Maxine sits on Anya's other side, glancing around the table with a frown quirking her blue lips. Then she shrugs and sits like nothing is wrong with the tense silence between the Prof and his kid.

Erik's temper with Charles' following. I wouldn't be surprised if Anya made her own bid for world dominance… and won. Kind of a scary thought.

Alex ends up sitting on Max's left, with Hank next to him, and me beside the Prof. He looks pained, shooting glances at his non-biological-but-still-his daughter with a frown. The kids have started to laugh and jeer at each other, but it's a farce. I know it is. Anya's laughing just a little too hard; Jesse is squinting a little and his hands keep flexing, the eyes on his palms (which is still creepy after seven months of seeing them) blinking at us and probably seeing everything; and Maxine frankly looks like she doesn't have a damn clue what's going on but is desperate for the older kids to include her on the secret.

Alex is also silent, which speaks volumes of how bad this is.

"Anya, can you please not play with the blood samples anymore? I need them for further tests." Hank sounds weary. Anya scowls a little.

"I was determining if the plans from that acidic compound you were trying to duplicate would actually break down the hemoglobin in red blood cells and result in suffocation. Those were the only samples of blood in the lab!" She's turning fifteen in three months and is already smarter than I am. Figures.

"And did it?" Hank sighs, looking weary as always but faintly amused as well. She stabs a fork into a meatball and her cheeks heat with a blush that makes us all exchange smirks. Even the Prof.

"No, it caused a black compound to erupt, then dissolve again and spoiled the sample. The blood was completely wrecked - the cells became completely crenated." Hank pauses with the fork halfway to his mouth, spaghetti hanging off of the end precariously. "Whose blood was that anyway?"

He swallows nervously and I swear I see Jesse smirk. Anya turns confused eyes from Hank to Jesse and back again. Charles sharp blue eyes cut across the table at Hank, narrowed slightly. "Well?" Anya demands.

"Um… I need to…" Hank drops his fork and streaks from the table, presumably to go to the lab. Charles watches him go with a frown on his lips. Anya looks bewildered, and Jesse is not-so-silently laughing at us. Seriously, the know-it-all attitude gets fucking annoying sometimes.

"Anya, what did you mess up now?" Alex asks in exasperation. Anya throws her hands up in a show of innocence.

"Nothing! He left the plans and blood out, and I was curious!"

"Is that so?" Jesse murmurs, a gleam I don't care for in his white eyes. The Prof frowns at him. Anya looks confused.

"Jess what did you do?" Maxine asks from around Anya, eyes narrowed. He just widens his sightless eyes and takes a sip of water. The winged mutant bristles, her sharp little horns seeming to vibrate on her head. "Jesse Winters, so help me if this is just you trying to make one of your damn visions happen again -"

"Maxine, language," Charles chides gently. Maxine promptly colors and looks down at her plate. Anya smacks her best friend's shoulder, and he pretends to wince and whine until he draws a smile out of her. Alex grumbles under his breath and looks none too pleased at the way Anya is blushing and not quite meeting Jesse's eyes. He doesn't like the thought of his baby sister having a crush.

I don't either but I'm not going to panic until she actually dates. And can… y'know… do stuff. (Ew ew ew ew ew ew ewwwwwww where's the bleach?!)

"Darling, please be more careful of Hank's projects. I understand he needed that blood for something important." Anya is still angry from their argument earlier. She juts out her chin and doesn't meet his eyes.

"Well, whose was it then?"

"I don't know. He asked me not to look, so I didn't," Charles says quietly. Anya huffs and gets up from the table. She doesn't seem to hear that Charles is hurt, or that he is trying so hard right now. She doesn't hear that he is angry and not with her.

She just walks away. Like someone else did on a beach in Cuba four years ago this October.

Poor Charles looks stricken as she does. Jesse glances at the older man in sympathy before hurrying after his best friend. And right then I make up my mind.

I sigh.

Damn it, the one time I wish they wouldn't listen to me… Now I'm going to break Mag-fucking-neto out of prison and introduce him to his volatile teenage human daughter.

Jesus Christ I hope the Prof has enough alcohol to keep us tanked for - I glance at Anya's retreating back and the Prof's face and think of Erik's stubborn anger - years.

Definitely years. We're going to need it.

Yeah! Erik soon! Originally I was going to have Anya older... but she's going to be sixteen next chapter. Guess that's old enough. (My baby's all grown up! *sniffle*) Like? Don't like? Let me know!