Heather watched her stomach grow.

At first, she could ignore the weight gain - she could just pretend she had eaten a lot at dinner - but it seemed be to be growing faster than normal. By four months pregnant, it almost looked like she had a small balloon hidden under her shirt. And to say she was terrified was the understatement of the century.

Both Charles and Hank reassured her that mutant pregnancies were no different than human pregnancies in length, and that her baby was most likely a large child (which terrified her more because she still had five months to go and she really liked her insides where they were).

With the weight gain came the nudges.

Her baby loved to move.

A lot.

They weren't big movements, just tiny flutters that Heather barely felt herself. But one night, while she laid on her back and stared at the ceiling, a hand laying instinctively on her stomach, the baby inside of her brushed along where the hand was and - that was it. That was when it really hit her - she was going to be a mom, she was a mom.

There was a baby on it's way and there was no denying or stopping it.

Heather tried her hardest to choke back the tears, but couldn't help herself.

That night, she whispered her insecurities to her baby. She told them that she was afraid of being like her own mother - so bitter and hateful, yet so broken and lost - that she was afraid of disappointing Edie and that she was afraid that they would become Erik. And when the baby nudged once more, call her a sap but Heather knew they cared.

After that, Heather felt - better. She didn't feel as hopeless or lost because - because she had a reason to hope, she had a reason to keep going. She also started being more excited for the baby's arrival - she finally opened a catalog full of nursery things and even started a list of names. And when the boys asked, she finally let them touch her belly and, upon hearing yes, they pouched on her.

And watching their faces, their eyes, light up for the first time in what seemed like years, Heather began to realize that she wasn't the only one this baby was healing.


"He's dead?"

"Yes."

"They're blaming us, aren't they?"

Charles glanced at Sean, taking his eyes away from the television set. On the screen, below a BREAKING NEWS banner, read Edwin Partridge Dead; Mutants Suspected. The volume was low, but Heather could hear the hum of the angry crowd through the speakers. The crowd wanted blood, mutant blood, as payment for their leader's death.

"Do they even know if it was a murder?" Sean questioned further, but Charles let out a soft laugh. "I don't think they care. They're carrying on Edwin's morals and values. He wanted to destroy, so here's his opportunity."

Hank shifted uncomfortably, before asking, "Are we going to have to go into hiding?"

"That may be the best option," Heather responded, "Give the mob some time to - cool off."

"How long do you think that will take?"

"I have no idea."


It was the fifth time that Charles and Heather tried to contact Erik that they finally got a response.

But from the wrong person.

There was a sound of nails being dragged across a chalkboard and Heather covered her ears instinctively, even though the noise was only in her and Charles' heads. It ended after a short amount of time, but it left an unbearable headache that had Heather swaying and nearly throwing up. "What do you want?" A voice that sounded like pure ice boomed in their heads and Heather winced.

"We need to talk to Erik," Charles thought weakly, suffering similar to Heather.

"Can't do that, honey, he's a little busy right now."

"Please," Heather begged, "He has to know, he has to know that I'm - "

" - Oh, dearly," the voice cooed, sugar sweet now but with a sharp edge, "He has more important things to do then play daddy. It'd be in your best interest and the whiny brat's interest to not try and break my shield again. Otherwise, I can show you just how easily a developing mind can tumble." The voice was gone after that, leaving an icy feeling in the room and in Heather's bones.

They never tried again after that, fearful of what Emma would do to the baby.


This is so bad. And so short. And so late.

School is killing me.

Annnnnyway

Things to look forward to:

Deleted Scenes/Alternate Endings of No Angels being published alongside of either Chapter 8 or 9

Gender Contest ends 2 days after I post Chapter 10 (which is 3 chapters away, so keep voting)

Possible sneak peek of Calling All Angels