Disclaimer: I only own the plot and my OCs. Anything you recognize as not mine belongs to 20th Century Fox, Disney, Marvel, and/or their otherwise respective owners.

Author's Notes: So I got this story idea literally yesterday lmao, but this was too funny, I just couldn't resist. Because I got this story idea literally yesterday, I have no idea how long this story is going to be. Definitely 12 chapters or less, but that's all I've got. I have the next three-ish chapters mapped out, but don't know when the next update is going to be. Probably next month.

Anyways, there aren't really any real trigger warnings for this story. Just keep in mind the triplets are 10, and they are truly and definitively their parents' children. This is...not always to the best of results, as you will see in this chapter haha

Story title comes from the song The Parent Trap by Annette Funicello & Tommy Sands. Don't even get me started on how long it took to find that song. -_-

As always, hope you enjoy,

~TGWSI/Selene Borealis

~straighten up their mess with togetherness~

~chapter 1~

Ever since they could remember, the three children of Erik Lehnsherr and Charles Xavier had been well-acquainted with the story of how their parents had fallen in love.

Of course, the story was told in slightly different ways, depending on who was telling it. Their uncle Hank was logical and pragmatic man: he tended to stick to the facts, rather than devolving into emotions he didn't understand or necessarily fully approve of. Their other uncle, Sean, was the embellisher: he liked to make the story sound more dramatic than it was – which wasn't perhaps saying much, because the story was already dramatic enough, but still. And their papa, Charles, was the romantic: for him telling the story often hurt, but he did it anyways, for the sake of his children. They looked up at him with their green eyes, the ones they had inherited from their other father, whenever they wanted to hear the tale, and he almost always caved and gave it to them. There wasn't much that their papa could deny to his son and two daughters.

Anyways, the story, as they knew it, went like this:

When their papa had been working with the government to hunt down a bad mutant man by the name of Shaw, their vati (that was always how he was called, because their other father was German, and their papa always said with a bittersweet smile that was how he would've preferred to been called by them) was hunting down the same man for his own personal reasons of revenge. He'd been so bent on revenge even that, on the night their parents had met, he'd been willing to drown himself in order to get him. But their papa hadn't allowed that to happen – couldn't have allowed that to happen. For their papa was a telepath, a mind reader, and from the second his mind had touched their vati's, he'd known: Erik Lehnsherr was to become the love of his life.

The two of them had worked for the government for a time to get ready to fight Shaw for reasons that weren't really expanded on to them, they always being reserved for "when you're older." But they'd recruited other mutants, including their uncle Sean; their uncle Hank had already been with them. And as they'd worked to find the other mutants, their papa and vati had grown close to one another. They'd bared their souls to one another. Their vati had already been convinced that he was a bad person, a monster, long before he'd met their papa. But their papa had proven to him that was not the case, in the way only someone who really, truly saw another person could.

Then, after a bad event that made them stop working for the government and lose two of the mutants they'd found, their parents, Hank, Sean, their last uncle Alex, and their aunt Raven retreated to their papa's manor. They spent a week there, their papa helping the others harness their powers. It was during this week that their vati had realized just as their papa had fallen in love with him, so he had fallen in love with their papa. They'd culminated this love the night before they went to fight off Shaw in Cuba, the night before everything had gone so dismally wrong.

In Cuba, their vati did bad things to the man named Shaw. Bad, unspeakable things. Then, in a complete accident, he'd paralyzed their papa. He'd left after that along with their aunt Raven, and had not been seen by their papa since – not until this past January.

Due to his paralysis and his depression, as well as the fact that he was a man, their papa had not realized he'd been pregnant at first. It'd only been after he'd been sick for several days in a row and many tests by their uncle Hank that he'd been in for the shock of his life, that he had a secondary mutation that could do such a thing. This had only been expounded a few months later when their minds had sparked to life in the womb, making it known to him that he had not been carrying just one baby, but three.

Peter, Wanda, and Lorna had been born on July 17th, 1963, carried completely to term in spite of all odds having said otherwise. They'd been born in that order, their names being Peter Cassidy, Wanda Moiren, and Lorna Raven Xavier-Lehnsherr. It'd been obvious since birth that they were all mutants: Peter had silvery hair and Lorna loose green curls. Wanda's hair was much "tamer" than theirs in comparison, at least in the color sense; her mess of tightly-wound auburn-brown curls were wild in every other way which counted. But if her brother and sister were mutants, then it only made sense that she would be one as well. They all had their vati's eyes. The color and their shared features were the only things they had of him. Not even pictures, did they have.

They'd never met their vati. He wasn't aware of their existence. Up until this past January, their fathers had never been reunited. And even then, their papa hadn't told their vati about them. Wanda knew. Of the triplets, she was the only one with telepathy...and telekinesis. Lorna had inherited their vati's metal-controlling abilities, while Peter was fast. He was a speedster. They'd all presented on their sixth birthday, much to their papa's surprise. But, that was a story for another time.

When their papa spoke about their vati, despite being in love with him as he was, he always made it sound like their relationship was over and done with. He'd gotten the best gift he ever possibly could – them – from the relationship, but after Cuba, their vati had gone on to do more terrible, unspeakable things. This did not make their vati a bad person, their papa always said, but as long as he was on the path he currently was...well, a relationship between them wasn't really possible. Moreover, he knew their vati would be upset with him for keeping the existence of their children a secret for so long, hence part of the reason why he hadn't told him about them in January, when he'd had the chance to.

Their uncle Sean had a different opinion. He tried not to say it, and he was an embellisher, but the look on his face whenever they hounded him about it spoke a thousand words beyond that. "What your fathers have is...complicated," he always tried to say.

"But...?" one of them would always harass in return.

"I've never seen two people be so in love with each other like your papa and vati," he was forced to admit. Then, he usually scowled and did something playful, like ruffling their hair. "But, don't tell your papa I said that."

The triplets were inclined to agree with him, beyond just the childhood dreams of getting their parents back together. Back in January, when Logan had come talking about the future and how in order to prevent it they needed Erik, they'd seen how their papa reacted to the news. Well, Wanda had seen it telepathically, having snuck into Logan's mind without him noticing, and having known that their papa's usage of the serum meant he would've been unable to detect her. While on the serum that had given him back his ability to walk, he hadn't had his powers.

Their papa hadn't wanted them to be there while he'd talked about it with Logan. "Sean, take them to the living room," he'd told their uncle, gesturing towards him with his bottle of beer.

Before then, when Logan had seen them watching him in the left archway, he'd snorted. "So, these are your kids," he'd said. "Pete's even shorter than I'd imagined him as a kid."

Peter had made a face. "It's Peter, not Pete."

"Sure it is."

"Who are you?" Wanda had asked, which had pretty much ended their physical interactions with the man until his and their papa's discussion was over.

Inside Logan's head, Wanda had seen his conversation with their papa and Hank. She'd seen so much more than that, too, war and suffering and death and a girl named Marie in the future who looked so much like him, but she'd pushed all of those things aside, concentrating on the physical. "The professor I know would never turn his back on someone who lost their path," Logan had said. "Especially someone he loved."

And their papa had nearly tripped over his own two feet at that, before he'd turned around. His expression had been so angry, so full of rage, but even without looking into his own mind, Wanda knew their papa. He'd been angry, but he'd been angry someone had seen through him so thoroughly despite "just" having met him, and observed his love for their vati. Hank and Sean did that, of course, but it just wasn't the same.

The triplets had been hopeful, after their papa and Hank had left with Logan, that their fathers' reunification would bring them back together. But, as they'd said, that hadn't happened. Their fathers had most likely saved them from the bad future Logan had spoken of, but also as they'd previously said, their papa hadn't told their vati about them. Their vati had also dropped a baseball stadium upon their papa, so maybe their fathers' relationship was much more unrepairable than it seemed.

But, no.

The triplets refused to believe that.

Which led them to the here and now.

Peter yawned as he turned around on his side, looking at his sisters' two beds. They all shared a room, had ever since they were born. Their papa was thinking it would be time to separate them one of these days, but none of his children wanted that. To them, not sharing a room was unthinkable.

Peter was tired. It was eleven o'clock at night, two hours after their bedtime. But sleep was not in the immediate future for him as he focused on Wanda. "Is he...?" he asked.

Lorna shifted around as well, to look at their sister in the darkness, their room lit only by the moonlight. Wanda's eyes briefly glowed red. She then gasped quietly. "Yes," she said. "He's asleep."

"He," naturally, being their papa.

Peter let out a sigh of relief. He sat up in bed, as did his sisters. Lorna turned on her light, since hers was the farthest from their bedroom door. "And uncle Hank and Sean are...?" she prodded.

Wanda's eyes glowed again. "Uncle Hank is down in the lab, he won't hear us," she answered. "Sean is asleep."

Peter was giddy. "Good, good," he spoke quietly, mindful of the strength of his voice. "That means we can do this in peace."

Wanda rolled her eyes. "Yes, Peter. That's what that means."

"What? I'm only speaking the truth."

"Come on," moaned Lorna. She wasn't usually one to not join in their ribbing, as she and Wanda took a particular pleasure in teasing him, but she was right: they had more important things to talk about.

It had been seven months since January, when Logan had come and gone. Seven months and the triplets were now ten, but their fathers had not seen each other again. They didn't even know where their vati was, nor did their papa. Wanda knew from the peering into their uncles' minds she'd been able to do without them noticing. As far as the three adults who lived at the manor knew, their vati was in Europe, possibly Poland. But that was all.

And that would simply not do. The triplets had been patient for most of their lives, waiting for the day that their fathers would reunite and get back together, causing them all to live happily ever after. But they hadn't, and so now...

...Maybe it was time for the triplets to do the work for them.

They already had a five-step plan in place. Tonight, he was going to do the first step of their plan, as he hopped off of his bed and grabbed his goggles off of the nightstand, the ones their uncle Hank had made for him to keep the wind out of his face when he ran. Then he slipped on his shoes, also made by Uncle Hank, designed to not fall apart from the physics-defying speeds he ran at.

He looked at Wanda expectantly. "Remind me again what I'm looking for?" he asked.

Rather than tell him verbally, Wanda transmitted to him her most recent memory of Hank's lab. He didn't allow them inside often, fearing (perhaps justly so, considering what Peter was about to do) that they would get into trouble with his chemicals and/or equipment. But he had allowed them in last week, and Wanda had taken special note of his chemicals cabinet. The bottle of the one that Peter needed was on the middle shelf, behind many of the others. This was in their favor. Most likely, Hank wouldn't realize it was missing until two days from now, during his weekly inventory. But by then, it would be too late, if everything went accordingly.

"And I have to go in while he's still there?" Peter pouted.

Wanda crossed her arms. "Yes, Peter. Uncle Hank locks up his lab when he's done there every night. And he's thinking of going to bed soon. You need to hurry."

He blew out a breath that puffed out his cheeks. "Why do I keep getting the hardest parts?" he muttered under his breath, mostly playfully.

The metal horse figurine that was also on his nightstand rose up and smacked him on the head. "Ow!" he yelped, rubbing at the wounded area with a glare. "What was that for?"

"You know what that was for," Lorna retorted hotly, scowling back. "Wanda has the hardest part. Don't pretend she doesn't."

...Yes, she did. Lorna was right. Peter looked at his other sister regretfully. "Sorry, Wanda."

"It's fine." She tucked a lock of her wild hair behind her ear, in the vain hope that it would keep it out of her face. True to form, the lock bounced back into place pretty much instantly. "What you're going to have to do now is tough too, Peter."

He smiled at her, thankful for the acknowledgement. But he did hesitate when he padded over to their bedroom door, his hand grabbing the doorknob. "It's still safe to go, right?"

She double-checked. "Yes. They're all doing the same things they were," she informed him. "You should go."

"You can do it!" Lorna encouraged.

"Right," he said. He took in a deep breath. "See you in a minute."

Slowly, he opened up their door. Peter looked down one side of the hallway, where their papa's bedroom was in the family wing, and then the other, where he needed to go. Exiting the bedroom, he closed the door almost all of the way behind him, leaving it open just a crack. Another inhale to prepare him for this first step which, unlike all of the others, he had to do solely on his own.

Then, he ran.

His footsteps didn't make a sound when he ran at his fast speed. This was to his favor. Sprinting down the hallway and stairs of the second floor, he reached the first floor (or ground floor, as their papa always called it, the British way of saying things too deeply ingrained in him), then ran down the one staircase that led to the bunkers, the secret one behind one of the wooden panels of the manor. When he got to the bunkers, his feet sliding against the stone flooring as he stopped, he opened the door to Uncle Hank's lab, thankful that it was unlocked. It was slow for him, so as to have it not make a sound, but too fast to be perceptible for literally everyone else.

He almost breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that Uncle Hank was at one of his worktables, his back turned to him. But even for him, there was no time to waste. Grabbing a stool (he was short, okay, the same exact height as his sisters, but he refused to believe that was a bad thing. Besides, he knew he'd grow up to be tall, Logan had said so himself), he brought it over to the chemical cabinet and opened it up. Hank always kept it locked when he and his sisters were in the lab, but he hadn't been expecting Peter to come in right now.

Undoubtedly, this transgression was going to mean that their uncle was going to keep his cabinet locked all the time after he found out what happened, ruining any and all of Peter's future plans of pranking the entire household with chemical explosions and the like. Oh, well. Whatever.

He was willing to give up those plans if it meant finally getting to meet his vati and getting his fathers back together.

Finding the bottle he needed, he took it out and closed the chemical cabinet once more. Then he took the stool, put it back in its place, and went back out of the lab, closing the door behind him. He only stopped long enough to place his back against the wall, turning his head and straining his ears to listen to any possible noise. Did he notice me? he thought, knowing Wanda would pick up on it.

Sure enough, he felt the distinctive nudge of his sister in the back of his brain. ...No, she answered him after a moment. He's too tired, even with his enhanced sense of hearing. You're free to go.

Peter didn't need to be told twice.

When he got back up to their room and shut the door behind him, he took off his goggles and instinctively shook his head. "I got it," he said, holding up the bottle of chemicals.

Lorna stood up from her bed and came over to take it from her, since she would be the one in charge of it from here on out. "Perfect," she said. She kissed him on the cheek, giggling when he made a show of being grossed out by it and rubbed at his cheek. "Good job, Peter."

Step one of their plan was complete. It was time for them to move on to step two.

They spent the rest of the time that they could before sleep became too unavoidable preparing for that second step, as well as talking quietly into the night. It was well after one o'clock when they finally fell into Hypnos' realm, as their uncle Sean would've put it, being the Greek mythology nerd that he was.

The next morning, all three triplets were a bundle of nerves.

"What's gotten into you three?" their papa asked them over breakfast, gazing at them over his coffee cup as he took a sip from it.

Lorna, as strange as it might have sounded, was the one with the best poker face. No, it wasn't Wanda, who was the telepath, or Peter. It was her. "Nothing, Papa," she said, without giving any inclination whatsoever that she was lying through her teeth.

But of course, their papa was their papa, so he didn't quite believe her. "Are you sure about that?" he asked. He glanced at Peter in particular. "You're not pulling any pranks...are you?"

Peter projected a look of demure innocence. "What?" he cried. "I'm not plotting anything!"

Hank looked up from his newspaper to give him a bland look, while Sean snickered. "If you weren't up to something, you wouldn't be using the word 'plotting.'"

Peter groaned, face-planting into his plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast.

"What are you up to?" their papa singsonged.

He'd stopped the serum back in January after everything had been said and done, so along with becoming a better father again (he'd always been a good one, they just wanted to say that), he had his powers. But, he respected their privacy, and didn't even bother so much as nudging their shields beyond his always constant presence.

Wanda knew this was their only saving grace. She bit the inside of her cheek so hard it almost bled.

"We're up to nothing, Papa," Lorna attempted to convince him. "Really."

He wasn't fazed. "Uh, huh," he said, taking another sip of his coffee. "Well, we'll find out, one way or the other."

Yes, you will, Peter thought.

Wanda choked on the food she was eating, hiding a laugh. Their papa gave her a concerned glance. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, Papa," she coughed. "I – I'm fine."

School hadn't started up yet, either the public one they'd been going to for the last couple of years or their papa's that he was in the process of planning to reopen, they were stuck at the manor for the entire day, as they always were. If it were any other day, they would've been fine with this, but today it was just about torture. They went through the day under three pairs of watchful eyes, their papa and their uncles wary of any hijinks they could be up to. They didn't know what they were in for. That was a good thing.

During dinner, however, their suspicions seemed to mostly waver off. "I guess you weren't really up to anything, after all," their papa remarked.

After dinner, they did the same thing that they did every night: the triplets got to watch TV for an hour, before the seven o'clock news began and it was their papa and uncles' turn for the television. Their papa also liked to have his tea at seven, instead of in the afternoon like most British people.

At half past six, their papa lifted his eyes towards the clock in the main living room, his fingers twitching. "I suppose I should get started on – " he began to murmur.

Wanda sprang to action. "I can do it!" she said, jumping off of the couch where she and her siblings were sitting.

Their papa raised an eyebrow. "You want to make tea?"

She nodded exuberantly. "Yes, yes!"

He frowned, uneasy. "I don't think that's a good idea, darling," he told her gently. "You're only ten. If you were to get hurt..."

"I can help her," added Lorna, getting off of the couch as well. "We could both control the kettle if something happens to it. We're not going to hurt ourselves, Papa."

The two girls stood side-by-side, looking at him with large green eyes, the green eyes he never could resist. "Please?" they spoke in unison.

"We're big girls now, aren't we?" tacked on Wanda.

They saw an inkling of suspicion return to their papa's face, before he ultimately caved. "Alright, fine," he murmured. "I suppose you are old enough. Go ahead. But please call for me if you have any difficulties!"

Grinning, and with a firm look at Peter to keep their papa occupied, they headed off to the kitchen.

...Or, rather, Wanda headed off to the kitchen. As sneakily as possible, Lorna raced up the stairs. She ran to their wing and into the bedroom, grabbing the chemical bottle from where she'd tucked it underneath her pillow. Then, she followed after her sister into the kitchen.

This entire process probably only took minutes, and yet it felt like it lasted for hours.

Wanda was in the process of lighting the stove with her powers when she stepped into the room. The red glow in her eyes flickered a little. Did you get it? Wanda questioned her silently.

Wordlessly, Lorna held up the bottle for her to see.

They both felt relieved at this, although their heartbeats pounded inside their chests and their palms felt clammy. As they'd previously decided, neither of them spoke out loud as they looked at the kettle. It hadn't been placed on the stove yet, was just resting innocuously on the counter.

How much do you think is – ? Wanda began.

Lorna shrugged. This was her job, mostly because Peter and Wanda each had their important duties and she didn't really have one herself in terms of powers for most of their five-step plan, but she didn't know anything extensive about chemicals, none of them did. And certainly not this chemical.

Still, she unscrewed the lid and opened the top of the teakettle. Her tongue instinctively popped out of her mouth as she poured some of the liquid inside into the water. Do you think that's – ?

It was Wanda's turn to shrug.

Right.

Just a little bit more, she thought, pouring some more in. Just in case.

It never occurred to either of them, just like it had never occurred to Peter when they'd been discussing to how to do this for the past month, to feel guilty about what they were doing. They knew it was wrong, but they believed the results were going to be worth it. No, they had to be worth it.

They would expect nothing less.

As the mixture in the teakettle, as colorless as water, came to a boil, they worked on getting out all the things that their papa and uncles liked with their team: milk for their papa, sugar for him and Hank, and honey for Sean. Sean, who saw the honey as Lorna deposited it on the coffee table in the living room and he sat down, tilted his head. "Are you wanting me to drink a cup?"

"Yes," she said plainly. "Wanda and I are making it. So you will, won't you?" She resisted the urge to bat her eyelashes. She didn't want to lay it on too thick.

He smiled. "Eh, sure. Why not?"

"What about you, Uncle Hank?" Lorna directed her attention on him as the other man stepped into the room. "Do you want some tea? Papa's letting me and Wanda make some."

Hank's brows reached his hairline. "All by yourselves?" At her nod, he said, "I guess I'll have one, too." Under his breath as Lorna headed back for the kitchen, presumably when he thought she couldn't hear him, he said, "Here we go."

"Hank," Charles reprimanded him.

Lorna was not offended by this. She and Wanda had been well-known for putting too much sugar in the tea they had for their tea parties, back when they'd been little. They didn't really have too many tea parties these days.

But they didn't put anything else other than the chemical in the tea water. When it was ready, they served it into three cups and added the tea steepers, before they carried the cups into the living room, Wanda holding one in her hands and the other in the air. She levitated that one to their papa when they reached the room, who smiled and accepted it.

The sisters resuming their seats on either side of their brother, they all waited with bated breaths. Since in all of their (read: Peter's) pranks, they had never done such a thing like this before, the adults were completely oblivious. Hank did scrunch up his nose at the taste. "What kind of tea did you two use?"

"Uh..." said Wanda.

Lorna subtly elbowed her in the ribs. "We found some in a strange tin," she spoke, referring to what was the jasmine. They hadn't used it, but hopefully their papa and uncles wouldn't catch on to that fact.

Their uncle Hank opened his mouth.

"It's fine, darlings," Charles cut in. He gave them a reassuring smile. "You did great."

...And indeed, they did. The triplets watched how, over the course of the next hour, after they had finished off their tea, their papa, Hank, and Sean began to grow tired. Each of them tried to hide it, or at least ignore it, but it was of no use. "...I think I'm going to go to bed," Hank yawned at about half-past, standing up and lumbering off towards his room.

"...Same," Sean groaned. He waved at them before he left. "'Night, kids."

"'Night, Uncle Sean!"

...Don't know why...I'm so tired, Wanda heard his thoughts as he headed upstairs. This is...ridiculous.

Both of their uncles collapsed onto their beds when they got to their respective rooms, and were out like a light.

Their papa was the last to fall asleep...or get knocked out, as was perhaps the most appropriate term. He shook his head, as if to clear it. "Bollocks," he muttered, before raising his head to look at his children.

And because he was their papa and had telepathic powers (not that he needed them to read his children so thoroughly), or perhaps Peter and Wanda couldn't keep their faces straight, it was then he figured out what they had done. His eyes widened even as his eyelids tried to pull themselves closed, and horror washed over his slackened face. "...Wanda, Lorna, what did you...?" he breathed.

He didn't get to finish his sentence. As that last word left his mouth, he slumped in his chair, as out of it as Sean and Hank.

Peter, Wanda, and Lorna stared at their father for a moment.

His passing out seemed almost, dare they say it...

Anti-climatic.

Guilt twinged in their stomachs. One thing was sure, after all of this was over and their parents were back together, they were going to be in so much trouble.

But, onto more pressing matters. The second step of their plan was only halfway complete.

Lorna shifted in her seat. "How long do you think they'll be – ?"

"Long enough," Wanda decided for the lot of them. "Peter, you know what to do?"

Peter gave his sisters a mock-salute. "Pack our bags, keep an eye on Papa and Uncle Sean and Hank, and be prepared to go as soon as you guys are finished, yes," he said.

Then, even though he wasn't wearing his goggles or his shoes, he was gone in less than a blink of an eye.

Lorna offered her hand to Wanda. The brunette accepted it.

Now came the hardest part of their entire plan, the aspect that not even their papa had been able to do in the months since January:

Wanda was going to use Cerebro in order to definitely find their vati.

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