Thanks to hippiechick2112, ellie, Foreststar of WindClan, and Lady Gris for reviewing! All the stories Charles reads (including 'The Three Sillies') are from a collection of English fairy tales first published in the late 19th century.

This chapter... am I about to ham it up? Probably.

The conversation played again and again when he closed his eyes. No matter what Scott tried to focus on for a distraction, he heard Ruth and Charles's conversation:

"Scott does not like things to change," Ruth had said.

"He's spent most of his life in care, he must know this is coming," had been Charles's reply.

"Charles, this is too much to spring on him at once. He deserves to know. And so does Ororo."

"This isn't about Ororo, and until I'm certain—"

"This is absolutely about Ororo. She will understand, but she will want to know why she is still your foster-daughter and he is not."

He sighed and pushed back the covers. Sleep wasn't coming. He told himself he wanted to enjoy his home while he still could, before he was sent away, but it was nonsense. It didn't feel like home anymore. He was nauseous with the thought of being sent away.

Instead, Scott went and knocked on his brother's door. When no one answered, he pushed it open. The room was an embarrassing mess. Maybe he could get in here next time Alex went to class… at least get some of the laundry and junk food wrappers off the floor. But Alex was there, asleep on top of the covers—Scott added changing the sheets to his list of things to do—and that was what mattered.

Who would take care of Alex when Scott was gone?

He closed the door gently and made his way through the quiet halls. Scott didn't need light to navigate, at this point. He squeezed his eyes shut. He did that, sometimes. Without his glasses he couldn't open them at all, so he liked being able to move without seeing.

He made it to the kitchen. There he was a little clumsier. Finding the cabinet meant running his hands along the wall and he groped at several bottles before settling on the one he wanted. He headed to the fridge next. The milk was tricky. Because it came in a glass bottle, he used one hand to hold its weight and the other to guide it carefully onto the counter. He did the same with a drinking glass.

Scott opened his eyes then. He needed them to spoon out just shy of enough Ovaltine, then pour the milk. Finally he took a spoonful of Ovaltine and dunked it into the milk. When he took the spoon out, a thick, dark film of Ovaltine wriggled for a moment, then pulled back, revealing the dry powder beneath it.

Scott grinned and popped the spoon into his mouth.

Eating a spoonful of Ovaltine is trickier and more fun than it sounds. As he stirred the remaining powder into his milk, Scott noticed a mewling sound. He pushed open the kitchen window.

A blur leapt inside.

Scott scooped her up. "Hey, Artie."

The cat gave a mrrw of objection and squirmed, then stopped when he scratched her ribs. Scott balanced Artie and his glass of chocolate milk as he sank to the floor. "Good girl," he murmured.

As she settled, Artie kneaded Scott, jabbing at him with her claws in a strangely friendly gesture. She also nuzzled his chin.

"Yeah, I know."

He scratched her ears.

"She'll never forget what you did for her."

Scott looked up to see the Professor in the doorway. Then he looked back to the cat. What he overheard the previous day had been eating at him.

"Nah. It was all Hank, really."

She will understand, but she will want to know why she is still your foster-daughter and he is not.

It hurt more than Scott knew he could be hurt.

"I'm glad you're awake," Professor Xavier said, "I've been meaning to speak with you."

Scott nodded. He knew what this was about. He tightened his grip on Artie, suddenly afraid this would be the last time he held her, the last time he checked in on Alex…

"Are you all right? Lately you've been—I know the past few weeks have been difficult."

"I'm fine."

"Well—good. In which case, I realize it's two years away, but it's never too early to start thinking about college applications."

Once the shock wore off, Scott almost laughed. That was the important matter? College applications?

"Hank tells me, and my own research supports this, that colleges are trending more toward personal qualities in student admissions. With a school as small as ours, I'm afraid class standing won't be much use to you. Do you know anything about the Scholastic Aptitude Test?"

He really couldn't believe it. College? For a while, Scott had almost thought it might be possible. As much as he struggled, he tried so hard… and now this.

He shook his head.

Misinterpreting the gesture, the Professor continued, "It's a standardized test—you would need to take it in one of the local schools, but that doesn't seem—"

"Stop it."

Although he worked with teenagers, Charles was not accustomed to that tone—particularly not from this teenager.

"I beg your pardon."

For once, Scott didn't back down. "Just… stop, with the college stuff, okay? We both know that's not happening. We—I heard you. I overheard what you and Ruth were saying yesterday morning. So now I know."

"Oh." The Professor looked deflated, a touch perplexed. "Scott, I thought—"

"Please just do it and get it over with."

"I thought this was what you wanted."

What he wanted?

Scott had been cold lately, he knew that. He was trying to keep everyone afloat as best he could, but he was mad about what happened and couldn't help but blame Professor Xavier for not even reading Raven's mind. Just one look and Sean would be alive, Alex would be okay, Ororo would be sleeping… yes, Scott knew.

He had been cold towards Professor Xavier and he knew that, but he never meant to suggest he didn't want to live here anymore. It was his fault, that was the worst part. He let his anger have the better of him and it was his fault.

A tear splashed onto his finger and Artie's fur. She turned to investigate, sniffed, then licked at Scott's hand.

"Scott, don't… I thought… I never meant for you to find out this way."

He sniffled. "There's no good way to find out something like this."

The Professor's voice sounded young and a little lost as he offered, "I was going to talk to you about it before making any final decisions."

"You've made your decision, though," Scott accused. He refused to be a part of this. He knew he wasn't the brightest and Hank or Charles could talk circles around him, but that was one thing he would not do. He would not assent to being got rid of. "I don't want to stay where I'm not wanted, anyway—"

"Not wanted—"

"—but I won't say I want—"

"Scott." The authority in that tone made him go quiet. "What do you think we're talking about?"

"What you…" Scott paused. He refused to stammer, but he needed a minute to put himself together. "What you told Ruth. That I always knew this was coming, that Ororo would still be your foster-daughter and I…"

Professor Xavier must have been remembering the exact words he used, because he sighed and murmured, "Oh, Scott. If I had known you were listening—of course I don't want to get rid of you."

"You don't?"

"Never."

"But what…?"

"I want to adopt you."

He's spent most of his life in care, he must know this is coming.

"I've spoken with a lawyer. It's complicated, you're technically a runaway and it's more often young children who are adopted, but there are means to ends. I didn't want to speak with you until it was a sure thing. I worried if I raised your hopes and something went wrong—I only wanted to protect you. Scott, are you crying?"

He shook his head, although he clearly was. Even Artie seemed to notice. Or perhaps she liked the taste of the salt water she licked from his face.

"You don't have to do this. It's an option—it's your choice."

Charles and Scott had a strange reluctance toward refusing one another. That was why Scott had his pet cat, despite Charles's not wanting any animals in the house (teenagers aside). It was why Scott studied algebra, fruitless an endeavor as those studies were—because it mattered to Charles. He hadn't even put up much of a fight over going shopping.

There had been a debate over pajamas once. Charles insisted that Scott needed them. He had outgrown a previous and an old t-shirt and boxers were not the same thing. Scott thought it over and asked to be allowed to buy them himself, which seemed fair, particularly after the last shopping trip with Ororo. Charles gave him the money with the requirement that he not buy second-hand pajamas. There had to be limits. Finally, Scott not only agreed to that, but admitted he just didn't want "to look like an absolute tool".

Charles wasn't certain plaid flannel pants really contributed to not looking like an absolute tool—a pun on his name, maybe?—but Scott seemed to like them.

So Scott had pajamas.

And he had an adult library card.

Charles had an admittedly very small algebra class to teach.

Scott had a cat.

And…

"You're crying," Charles observed. "If this isn't what you want—"

"No—I mean, I am." Scott tried to negotiate around Artie to wipe his face. "But not because I'm sad anymore. So… you and Ruth would…"

"Ah. Well. Because Ruth and I are not married—Ruth adores you, but legally, she and I—"

"Okay."

"It's a difficult enough process for a single man. An unmarried couple—even I have only so much influence."

Scott nodded. He hadn't actually thought about that. Though he had never heard of a single parent adopting, only ever heard about couples, he just never considered. He never realized that a single person might want to adopt.

"Scott, you have to understand, I want to adopt you because I love you. Ruth loves you. She'll still be your mom. Alex will still be your brother. The only thing that changes is that no one would be able to take you away."