//So I wrote this last year around this time. I just didn’t have a blog to share it on. Although some things have changed for my muses in a year I thought I’d upload this anyway.
Happy New Year!
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Sometimes ten years makes all the difference.
That was the thought running through James Xavier’s head this evening. He was seated in the family room—distinct from the living room as this was smaller and almost exclusively reserved for his family as opposed to the growing student body. One of the many changes made over the last decade but not necessarily a bad one. The Xavier family and all extended members had a rough and rocky history: they deserved a space to let their hair down or however the saying went. Be the man and/or woman behind the curtain and just...unplug. On the off-chance someone somewhere needed something, well, that’s what telepathy was for. Mister Xavier to the rescue in record time. James smiled to himself, nestling further against the sofa he currently occupied. He remembered a time his powers caused more trouble than solutions. Another welcomed change in the last decade.
“What’s so funny?” Ventured a voice. James met the gray eyes of the woman seated beside him.
“Ahh, nothin’ Em,” he replied with a lazier grin. “Just reminiscing.”
Emily Clearwater was his best friend and significant other: she was one of if not the first major change in his life all those years ago. When he’d been a boy of fifteen and she a girl near-about that age—her Time Lord DNA made it difficult to tell. It worked out though, he mused, because he too aged at a slower rate. They’d been through hell and back, he and Emily had: sometimes hand in hand, others with teeth bared and bleeding hearts. Here they were now about to start a family.
Warmth filled James’ yellow eyes—eyes like his mother’s, but only the pupils—and he shuffled up just slightly.
“Reminiscing?” Emily echoed as he wove an arm around her shoulder. “That’s the first time I’ve heard you use that word.” She laughed as she spoke, a warm, hearty sound. He couldn’t help but echo it.
“Oh yeah?” James asked, kissing the crown of her auburn hair. “This mean I get some kinda prize?”
“Oi!” A loud and deliberately obnoxious voice belonging to the Doctor cut in.
“Whatever you’re gonna give ‘im you give in your own private quarters. ‘s nothin’ anyone here wants to see.” The elder Time Lord waved his hand at the two in what looked like a scolding motion. James fought the urge to roll his eyes. He was unable, however, to fight off a blush and by the way Emily’s skin warmed up beneath his chin she’d apparently failed as well.
“Shite dad,” she grumbled and James was very sure he heard an eye roll in there. “We aren’t kids anymore.”
Emily slid a hand over her baby bump. At four months, she was just starting to show. “Are you gonna keep the lectures up once the baby’s born?”
The Doctor scowled and leaned forward in the loveseat he currently occupied.
“I will if you two can’t keep your hands off each other.”
“Seriously, Doc?” James jumped in. He had, in the last decade, managed to score good graces with the older (way way older) Time Lord but that didn’t mean they always saw eye to eye. James placed his hand over Emily’s before continuing. “You don’t think we’d actually—“
“Okay that’s enough of that.” Announced the unmistakable voice of Raven Darkholme. All heads turned as she entered the room, a tray of finger foods balanced in each hand. Haha, James thought and while it was juvenile he couldn’t help himself: mom to the rescue.
“Need help, love?” Asked the Doctor, grabbing the arm rests as if prepared to stand. Raven shook her head: James didn’t miss the slant in her scaly brow.
“You stay put, Mister.” She said, crossing into the center of the room. An oval coffee table with a protective glass top sat there and it was on this glass she at last set down the trays. It was then James noticed she’d dressed up slightly for the evening: nothing flashy but the dark collared shirt and skirt combo (with accessories) were a step above her usual attire. Weird. Not necessarily a bad weird; it was New Year’s eve after all. They’d all gone the extra mile in one way or another. Himself more a half than the full but hey, he was among family. If combed hair and a button-down with jeans didn’t fly, why bother staying in? There were more than a few places around accepting that kind of attire. If James wanted to, he could spend a casual night in a smoke-filled bar, entertaining strangers who gawked at his eyes and marveled at his ‘magic tricks.’ Maybe in another life he did just that. The current James, however, would much rather his present company. He fit right in among the mutants and aliens. A soft laugh dropped from his lips and this caught Emily’s attention.
“What are you smirking about?” She asked, a bemused look on her face.
“Hm? Ah nothing. Nothing important.” Emily poked his shoulder.
“Come on, you already used that one tonight. Tell me.” James‘ eyebrow stayed put but his smile widened.
“Fine,” he said. “I was thinkin’ how cute you look with your nose all wrinkled.”
“You were not.” Emily said, a touch of color in her cheeks again. She laughed as well now, a laugh she hastened to muffle behind her hand, lest (he guessed) she subject herself to more paternal embarrassment. The Doctor however no longer seemed interested in monitoring their PDA: attention refocused almost solely on Raven. It used to bother James and Emily both—wasn’t there some kind of rule against courting your son’s-girlfriend’s-father? (Or your daughter’s-boyfriend’s-mother?) Ten years really made a world of difference.
“Are you sure you don’t need help?” Asked the Doctor again when Raven returned to the door. She paused, arms crossed beneath her breasts.
“No. Thank you. I’m just waiting on the boys.”
“Oh yeah?” James chimed in, peering over Emily’s head. “Who’d you rope into helping this time?”
Now it was Raven raising a brow. And people assumed he’d inherited that trait from his father. “Why? Looking for a stand-in while you go crusading across the galaxy?”
Way to play left field there. James blinked, temporarily at a loss for words. If the surrounding silence was any indication, he wasn’t the only one.
“Wh—no.” He sputtered. “I was just—“ and then he caught the smile playing on her lips. That victorious maternal smile when she knew she’d gotten through to him. “...sorry, mom. Wasn’t fair to leave you alone with the holiday stuff.”
“No it wasn’t,” Raven agreed. She paused, yellow eyes roving from what looked like face to face. “Lucky for you all,” she went on suddenly. “I wasn’t alone.”
Raven looked to the doorway again. “Logan! You said you were right behind me.”
”I am right behind ya,” came the graveled growl of a one Logan Howlett. James ducked his head as the burly Canadian entered the room. The grin he wore would’ve all-too-easily caught Logan’s eye. Was he too old to call his mom a super-hero? Because damn, the way she commanded their rambunctious rag-tag family suggested nothing less.
“Put the bottles over there,” Raven said, nodding to the coffee table and when she did James noticed he was in fact carrying dark glass bottles. At a glance they all looked like champagne, but that was a lesson James didn’t need relearning: since he could remember, or at least for as long as they’d been close, sparkling cider—the kind free of alcohol—was included for the celebration. This year was no exception and thank goodness for it: he might’ve long since reached drinking age but champagne did no good for a mom-to-be. Half Time Lord or not, they’d agreed to play it safe. Besides, his father didn’t drink either.
Speaking of my dad, where is he? James sat up straighter, clearing his view of the doorway. No sooner did he then in limped Charles Xavier, his dad and apparently another extra set of hands. The older man carried with him several champagne glasses. Okay, that was new. Charles slowed as he crossed through the doorway, glancing shyly at Raven as though waiting for instruction. James’ parents had made as much peace with one another as they could but seeing them work together, when had that started? Or had it already and he in his ‘crusading ’ simply missed it?
“On the table, Charles,” said Raven gently and the elder Xavier bobbed his head. James tried his best not to stare. Charles had gradually emerged from his frightened shell since coming home but guilt and self-loathing, these took longer to overcome. Was ten years the time needed to heal all that? To heal the pain between his parents? James felt a finger that wasn’t his push his chin up. He took the hint, closing his mouth.
‘Thanks for that,’ he told Emily telepathically. He felt that same hand slide across his arm.
‘You’re welcome.’
The last two members of their family—Hank McCoy and Alex Summers—entered soon after. Alex almost immediately on Charles’ heels with the rest of the glasses in tow and Hank a little while later with a pretty but very athletic-looking woman James didn’t recognize.
“Hope it’s alright.” He said to Raven. She smiled, patting his shoulder.
“Of course it is, Hank. You don’t have to ask.” She slipped around him as he led his date towards them, closing the living room door. There was a sense of accomplishment in that, James felt it from his seat: a satisfied finality that now, together at last, they could ring in the new year.
‘All set mom?’ James asked, using his powers again. She looked over at him and though she said nothing at first, she didn’t need to: her eyes spoke volumes by themselves.
‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘I’m all set, James.’ Then she joined the group right as Logan turned the TV on. Dick Clark’s face materialized before them, preparing for the Count Down as he always did. Some things never changed. For the most part though...for the most part they did and, James decided, watching his family interact, those changes often came for the better.
See you later, ‘87. Can’t wait to see what’s gearing up in 1988.
//I watched this episode of SVU the other day and I can’t get it out of my head. In it, this woman posed as her married twin for three years after the sister’s abrupt murder. She did this to protect her sister’s family and their younger sister who was in a bad situation.
Of course, I started wondering what would happen if Charles had died somewhere between Days of Future past and Apocalypse, but no one knew it…except for a sibling who went on to live as him as a way to protect the school and his dream. In my head, it’s X (in some world where he really is Charles’ twin brother) but Raven works as well: Charles can’t use his powers while on his spine treatment, thus explaining her lack of telepathy. Of course, there’s Hank to deal with as well…either he’s in on this or Raven can replicate another’s scent (I can’t remember.)
I like to imagine X in this situation because EriX is fave ship number 2 and imagine if Erik had only heard of this twin in passing. I think a canon X would be that standoffish rebel who can’t be in one place too long because as we all know, he can’t feelings well. If he and Charles also grew up with Raven, it’s entirely possible X is the odd one out.
Plus I think Erik would figure Raven out pretty quickly. He knows Charles intimately, after all. Maybe he’d figure X out as well, but X does have telepathy on his side. It’s easier to fill in the gaps when you can pull from others’ minds.
Or hell, maybe this can apply to an alternate WG universe where X was always Charles’ renegade twin and fills in for him after learning he a) lived with the Brotherhood for far more years than the Charles he remembered would’ve put up with and b) his untimely death (which would differ depending on the universe.) you know he’d be hella suspicious and wracked with guilt ajshdkdksaa okay I’m done
Anyway, thank you all for putting up with my babble x’D good night
//sooo I forget which meme this is for?? Is it the ‘send me a heart if you wanna discuss a ship?’
I’ve always had a soft spot for Hank/Angel. It’s a total rarepair but Zoe and Nick look really cute together...and Wicked Game is all about exploring alternate options, right?
Granted it is WG canon that Angel dies and Hank isn’t a regular muse but hey, that’s what AUs are for!
send me a ship: mun and muse will share their thoughts
“Um...no, I think Erik would sooner s-see his head on a...er...” Charles trailed off. He chewed his lip, then continued. “I’m--I d-don’t like thinking about that sort of thing, no matter who it is. I know I’ve g-got the right to but that doesn’t make it right, you know? Besides, Erik’s cut violence out of his life...I’d like very much it s-stay that way...”
Again Charles paused and again he bit his lip.
“Erik doesn’t like Hank. I d-don’t like him either. They’d never b-be together.”
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//Hi everyone it’s Tex :D Charles said it better than I--in the context of this Wicked Game, any version of it, Erik/Hank would not work out for sooo many reasons. Hank hates the Brotherhood and everything they stand for and because he and Erik never bonded in the 60s I doubt he’d be Erik’s first choice for any kind of reunion.
In the Second Chances storyline especially, Erik gets to see how Hank’s anger and frustration manifests and I don’t need to tell you how he feels about that.
I don’t read X-men comics anymore so I’ve no idea if Hank/Erik works in any other context but as far as XMWG and the XMCU go I’mma say it’s really unlikely.
Hank bristled. He almost--almost---rolled his eyes but he wasn’t stupid; aggravating Erik, however annoying the metal bender was--probably wouldn’t end well. Also it wouldn’t do to start a fight around Charles.
He let go of the telepath’s arm, turning around. A low growl reverberated in his chest.
"Calm down,” Hank said but it bordered on a warning. “I’m checking his vitals.”
Out of everyone in the Xavier Family School Charles is most afraid of Hank. The Beast hasn’t entirely forgiven him for the various ways Charles has hurt Raven (and the others but primarily Raven) over the years; he makes that clear through his short temper and at times aggressive handling.
