"I really don't wanna do this," the newly-turned twenty-year old James groaned. He gave his mother a pitying look. "I'm an adult now, I should have a say in this."
His mother, Raven, offered a sympathetic smile back, but her eyes didn't waver in their determination. "I know," she said, patting her son's shoulder. "But we need their protection. Logan's always been good to us; uniting our families will keep us safe."
"But we're mutants too," James protested. "We should be able to do that, ourselves."
This time, Raven didn't answer, but something shifted behind her yellow gaze. Damn, James thought. He knew he'd struck a chord there. They were mutants, it was true, but this little family--some by blood, others in bond--had one bad blow after another over the years. Their once promising strength by number had dwindled to only a few. If we collapse, there'll be nowhere else safe to go.
James sighed.
"Tell me she's hot, at least," he grumbled and that did bring a little smile back to his mother's lips. She squeezed his shoulder; both an apology, by her whispering thoughts, and gratitude.
"I'd say 'fiery' is a better word. Come on," she added, at last stepping away. "Let's go meet your bride to be."
Swallowing another sigh, James stood up and followed Raven downstairs. In the foyer of the Xavier estate stood the man James had come to see as a foster father: Logan Howlett (or 'the Wolverine' as the kids around here called him.) He nodded when he saw James, then his eyes shifted, presumably to Raven. James didn't bother following because his own eyes found the face of a young woman beside the older man. A strong-standing beauty with dark hair and a dangerous aura. His bride to be, as mom had so eloquently put it.
//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!
___
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.
@missgreentelepath liked for a starter with Raven!
“So you’re the one they partnered James with, huh?” Raven said, walking up to the other girl. She smiled, holding out her hand. “Nice to finally meet you. I’m Raven.”
//I think I’ve finally figured out what happens during the Cuban Missile Crisis in this storyline...
Dark content below.
One major change in this version I haven’t talked about is the continued growing uncertainty amongst the ‘First Class’/Moira over what they’re preparing to do. As Charles’ world darkens and his behavior changes they start lose faith in him and their ability to stop a pending-war. Raven is the most vocal and frustrated/hurt: in part because she’s pretty sure Charles is being abused and in part because instead of opening up to her after that one very desperate night they shared together Charles all but shuts her out...gradually at first, then suddenly and completely.
Raven finally confronts him the night before they fly out and tries to tell him they’re not ready, this is a bad idea but...something in Charles is broken and when she gets too close he snaps and almost kills her. He doesn’t of course, although I need to work on the details. It does however finally push him past that breaking point...
This was a roundabout way of explaining everyone’s state of mind by the time they’re trapped on the beach: the X-boys are frustrated and nervous, Raven is hurt and angry and Moira is trying desperately to keep everything together. As for Charles...he’s lost whatever fight in him he had left. He essentially withdraws, leaving an anxious and self-loathing Erik to take the lead.
This time around it isn’t Charles who stops Erik from turning the missiles towards the human armies but the rest of the X-men. Moira leads it, firing at him. When Erik disarms her Hank and Alex charge him.
I don’t know the exact details of the struggle but I’m pretty sure it ends with Raven holding Charles at gunpoint. For the second time in the far too recent past Erik fears for Charles’ life, even though he’s damn well aware he has no right to.
I’d like to think he’s the one who finally holds up his hands. Raven bitterly gives Charles one last chance to come to her but he won’t and when Erik takes his hand he bites his lip but doesn’t pull away. Erik, Charles and the hellfire club leave that day: they regroup with Emma, who rarely dirties her hands in careless combat.
I’m still working on writing up the detailed backstory for this Wicked Game so some details in this scene may change. For now though let’s consider it canon...
