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Title:
Rule Number Ten: Blood Is Thicker Than Water
Author:
Terri
E-mail:
xgrrl26@yahoo.com
Rating:
PG
Disclaimer:
I don't own them, except for Jules. But he's the best one ;)
Archive:
WRFA, Mutual Admiration, Peep Hut-everyone else, please ask, and I will gladly
provide.
Feedback:
Please? With whipped cream on top? Good, bad, and ugly welcome..
Summary:
Sequel to Do Not Leave Child Unattended. The above Rule applies for
some, but not others.
Comments:
The idea that family (as in relatives) is the most important thing has always
been a pretty foreign one to me, for a lot of reasons. I've always
put a lot of stock in the importance of making your own family, choosing
who you want to be closest to you. But as I get older, and as the biological
clock starts ticking louder and louder, I'm starting to wonder if there isn't
something magical and primal about family after all.
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Well, they
should be here any minute. Any minute they should be here. Come
on, what's taking so long? I want to get this over with.
"They'll
be here any minute."
"I know."
Logan's been really good, really supportive through this whole thing.
And I mean the *whole* thing-kidnappings, losing all our possessions, finding
Jules, all of it. I don't know what I'd have done without him, and
I mean that literally. It's just too much to have to get through all
on your own.
"Hey, it'll
be nice to see Jules, see how he's doin', huh?"
"Yeah."
Logan really loves that little kid. He identifies with him so much,
and it's easy to see why-both escaped from a lab, both were just wandering
around until they found someone. He'd make a good dad one day, you
know? "I bet he's doing OK. Hank seems-he seems decent."
"Yeah.
Still-he's one of them." I know what he means. As nice as Hank
might be, we know where his loyalties lie when push comes to shove.
And the fact remains that he locked me up on the Professor's say so, so there's
no need to guess at who his loyalties are with at the moment.
"Right."
"I ain't
gonna let nothin' happen to ya, Marie." I must look even more nervous
than I feel. He looks worried, and he knows to use those words to calm
me down when I get all fidgety and hyper. "I'm not gonna let you outta
my sight or outta my reach. Nothin's gonna happen."
"Thanks."
I hope he knows how much it means to me. Wait-he's sniffing the air-that
must be them. "Hank?"
"It's a
car, probably an SUV. I think it's them." I can hear it a little
now-yeah, it's something definitely SUV-ish coming up the dirt road.
There it is. And I can see tinge of blue through the windshield so
it must be them. "It's all gonna be OK, darlin'."
"OK."
I see Hank driving, but I don't see Jules. I wonder if he thought-oh,
yeah, there he is. I see that little blue hand waving at us from the
backseat. "There's Jules." That got a smile. Logan really
does like him. Well, here they are. They are here.
"Hello!"
Hank looks cheerful. "Good to see you both again. Permit me to
extract Jules and the medkit from the back seat and I will be with you momentarily."
I'm so glad Hank agreed to this. I'm already hyping up at the mention
of the word 'medkit.' I can't imagine having to go to a hospital, or
worse yet, the mansion medlab, to do this. Out here in the open country,
in the middle of a Provincial Forest-well, that's still not enough nature
to calm me down.
"Hey."
Logan, at my back. God, it feels good to know he'll watch my back here.
Even though I know he really won't need to, it's a comfort that he would.
"It's gonna be OK." I'll just nod. I don't trust my voice at
the moment.
"Mawee!"
Aw, Jules is running straight for us. I missed him too. "Mawee,
wook-cwoves!"
"Very nice."
Feels good to hug him and not worry about my skin-thank God for furry
mutants. "Did Hank get you those clothes?"
"Uh-huh."
He looks a lot better than when we last saw him-he's grown some, that's for
sure. "Me wike cwoves."
"They're
good." Oh-oh-he caught sight of Logan and I think he's going to-yep,
he's going to jump right out of my arms and onto him.
"Wogan!"
"Hey there-how've
you been? Everybody treatin' ya OK?"
"Me well.
Me small but dada big. Me get cwoves. Me get toys. Dada
feed me." That's so cute-he's wrapped up in telling Logan all about
his life. "Me wiv inside now."
"That's
good, kid."
"Me have
big bed. Me seep in it."
"Oh, well,
beds-beds are good." Jules is nodding just like a little maniac and
Logan's eating up every second.
"He's adjusted
very well so far." Oh, right, Hank. You know, he's got such a
kind look on his face right now. He really is a decent guy and I think
he knows how hard all this is for me.
"And how
are you adjusting?"
"Honestly?
I love having Jules. I could not be more thrilled. He is-he is
truly the light of my life. I admit, my, ah alarm clock and several
of my breakables have not fared well, but, all in all, I am delighted to
be a father." I can tell that's true, that he really is already a father
to Jules. But that word-father-it just reminds me of why they came
in the first place.
"Hey, uh,
I was thinkin' that maybe we could get it over with first, and then you and
Jules could stick around for dinner. You know, we, ah, hunted some
deer and we're gonna cook it. There's plenty." We rehearsed that
part, actually, and as awkward as a social invitation is for Logan to carry
off, I'm glad he said it. I don't think I could've gotten past the
'get it over with' part without losing it at least a little. And we
would like to spend a little time with Jules.
"That is
a most gracious invitation. We are pleased to accept, and we can certainly
get on with drawing the blood samples and get that out of the way.
There is a small refrigeration case in the Explorer that will keep the blood
fresh." Logan's so pleased with himself for pulling that off.
"Well, then, I will prepare the necessary materials-may we-may we use this
picnic table?"
"Sure."
There. My voice almost didn't shake. And that big metal case-that's
probably just full of tiny little needles, not-not huge knives to peel off
your skin or anything like that. It's a picnic table, Rogue, not an
examination table, and Hank's not going to tie you down to it.
"Are you
all right? You look a bit pale." Whoa! Oh-oh-it's just
Logan's hand on my back. He must've put Jules down.
"I'm fine.
I just don't-don't like medical stuff, you know?" Hank's got that light
bulb-going-on-over-the head look about him, but he shouldn't, he knows what
happened to me. He'd have to guess that I'm not, you know, thrilled
about it and coping perfectly well only a few weeks afterward.
"My apologies.
I-I did not think about that." He's putting the case down on the ground
and out of my sight. "I shall work quickly." Good. Quick
would be good. "Perhaps you would like to sit down?" Sitting,
also good. And Logan's going to help me with that. In fact, it
looks like he's going to sit down at the table right behind me. He
knows I'm too jumpy to have him too far away now. Oh look-big evil
needles. Great.
"Mawee?"
"Jules, you'd
better just, ah, play on the ground for a few minutes, OK? My lap isn't
a good place to play right now." Logan, give me some help here.
"Yeah.
Go on and-looks like ya got some toys in the car. Why dontcha go get
'em and you can play over there, right by where Marie's paintin' is set up.
Wouldya like that?"
"Bad?"
"No, Jules,
nothing bad is going to happen to Marie." I think Hank's saying that
for the both of us. "But we need to take some of her blood and she
will have to sit very still." Oh-oh-Jules' eyes got *very* big at the
sight of that needle. I've been so freaked out by this whole thing
that I didn't even think that he might be scared too. Damn. I
shouldn't have asked him to come. "Jules?"
"It's the
needle." Logan gets impatient pretty quickly, but I think he knows
that Hank wouldn't mean to-"You're scarin' him."
"Oh!
Oh, my. Jules, it's all right. It's-it's quite all right.
These-needles aren't always used to hurt people, no, they-"
"Bad!"
Ooomph-I think he ran right over me to get to Logan. "Bad! Bad!"
"All right,
all right, I'll put the needle away, Jules, just please try to-"
"Bad!
No! Dada no pweaaaaaase!" Poor Hank-it looks like his heart just broke
at that. You know, maybe I should
"You know,
Jules, your dad is right. Needles aren't always bad. In fact,
he's-he's going to take some of my blood with one so we can figure something
out. It's not going to be bad at all, isn't that right, Hank?"
I don't think I'm convincing the grown-ups at all, but as long as Jules thinks
I'm OK with it, that's all I'm really going for here.
"Th-that's
right."
"Why don't
we go ahead and do it, then, OK?" I'm almost not shaking. I can
do it. I can juts go to the other side of the table and sit beside
Hank. I have to do it, to help Jules. Hank's-Hank's a doctor,
and it's not going to be the only time Jules will ever see him hold a needle
in his hand. Maybe this will help. Logan doesn't like me being
all the way over here, but Jules is not going to let him go. Poor kid,
he's terrified. Well, he's in a good spot. I know from personal
experience that hanging on to Logan for dear life is very comforting.
"All right."
It's funny how a smile on a guy with fangs can actually look reassuring.
"I'm just going to tie this around your arm-" Remain calm, remain calm,
do not panic. "-to help raise a vein. There. And now, let's
open the plastic pack and get the syringe out." Look at Logan, smile
at Jules. That'll help. Logan will be over this table in a heartbeat
if anything is going to happen to me. It'll be fine. "You'll
feel a little pinch." Jules can't even look at it-he's just burying
his head in Logan's shoulder. "And there. There we are."
Hmm. That wasn't bad. I barely felt that. Not at all horrific,
excruciating pain. More like-like a pinch.
"Hey, Jules,
you can look, it's OK." Peeking one eye out. That breaks my heart
too-he's been crying, you can tell. "See? I'm fine. Your
dad is just going to take some of the blood so we can figure something out.
He's helping me, not hurting me. I'm OK. See?"
"You're
doin' real good darlin'." I don't think I've ever seen Logan look quite
so proud of me. I like it.
"Bad?"
"Nope, not
at all. Right, Hank?"
"R-right.
Jules, I would never, ever harm you or - or anyone. Not-not-I
would never, ah-" Hank's at a loss for how to explain that. I
don't blame him. It's complicated. He would hurt someone, if
he had to. I don't think he'd ever hurt Jules. That's his family,
his blood. But someone like me-yeah. He *did* lock me up.
On the other hand, well, he *didn't* hurt me and he even tried to get me
un-locked-up. And he was good to Logan-he moved him out of the medlab
and into a room when I asked.
"Your dad
wouldn't hurt people, not like-not like them, not like the people at the
lab, not at all. Your dad's a doctor, and I know some of them were
doctors too, Jules, but your dad is very different from them. He helps
people. He doesn't hurt them. Sometimes-sometimes it could be
confusing because he might have to use needles or the things he needs to
do might hurt just a little bit, but he's always trying to help people, never
to hurt them." I think Jules got some of that. "And look, we're
all done." Please let him need only one vial of blood. I've reached
the end of my keep-your-chin-up-little-buckaroo rope.
"Right.
We are all done." Whew.
"Done?"
"That's
right, all done."
"Mawee?"
"I'm just
fine. Want to come over here and see for yourself?" Mental note-wipe
off the picnic table before we eat. Jules somehow got a thick coating
of mud on his shoes. "See? I'm OK."
"Wook -
owweeee." He's right. My arm is still bleeding a little.
"Yes, just
a tiny one, but you know what? Your dad can fix that right up."
"Y-yes.
Yes, I can." Ah, Hank to the rescue with a cotton ball and band-aid.
"There we go, your dad fixed it."
"Dada fikked
owweee?"
"Uh-huh."
Whew, finally over. Well, that was almost less traumatic than
I thought it would be.
Well, good
dinner-Logan's turning into a really good cook. Jules is calming down,
but Hank still looks a little shaken up by what happened. Instant fatherhood,
even if it's a great thing in your life, can't be all easy, and especially
not when your child has been through what Jules probably has. Jules
will have fun playing with Logan-those two are such peas in a pod in some
ways-and I can have a little talk with Hank.
Logan and
I planned this part too. I know he won't go too far-he won't let me
out of his sight-but I wanted some time to ask Hank a few questions about
this guy who might be my father. I know he's close to the Professor,
and I think I have a fair shot at getting some straight answers.
"I cannot
believe I have been so oblivious, first in not realizing how stressful this
would be for you and then giving no thought whatsoever to how Jules might
respond. I have kept him out of the lab for the most part because I
wanted to avoid just that kind of trauma. My sincere apologies for
my thoughtlessness, Marie."
"Don't worry
about it too much-I'm fine and Jules seems to be bouncing back OK.
You've had a lot on your hands lately."
"Yes.
I admit, I am still working through how I feel about what happened to me-having
been made a parent without my knowledge or permission. I feel..violated,
for lack of a better word. As much as I love Jules and as glad as I
am to have found him, I cannot help resenting those who brought him into
being." Maybe now is a good time to begin.
"Do you
think that's how the Professor feels? You know, about Mystique getting
pregnant with me?"
"I know
that he is distressed by her actions, yes, but I am certain that he does
not hold what she did against you."
"Really?
Because I seem to remember him locking me up just for being related to her."
I hope that didn't come out too snippy, but I think Hank knows I've still
got a sore spot there.
"That was
most unfortunate. He-he is not an unfair man, Marie. He was trying
to protect the students in his care."
There's no
talking about it-Hank sees one side, and I see another, and that's the way
it is. There's a basic difference in how we think about it and that's
not going to change. Might as well get on with the questions I wanted
to ask. "Does he have any other kids?"
"No.
He's been a surrogate father to dozens of us, but he does not have any children
of his own."
"Why do
you think that is, Hank?"
"I am not
sure." He looks like he's thinking about it, though. "The Professor
is a very private man and does not share his feelings or thoughts often."
"But you
have a theory."
"I think
that perhaps, as it is for so many of us, it is difficult for him to contemplate
producing offspring knowing that they may well carry his mutation."
"But he's
got a good mutation-who wouldn't want to be able to read minds and stuff?"
It's certainly a hell of a lot better than lethal skin, if you ask me.
"It has
it's own problems-I do know that as a young man, he had great difficulty shutting
out other minds. It was difficult for him to learn to control his mutation."
Hmm. I guess it's good to know he's not perfect, that he's struggled
a little.
"He doesn't
want me to be his child, does he? He's hoping that the blood tests
clear him."
"I do not
know. If he does have those feelings, it is not because of you.
It is because of Mystique."
"It has
to be at least a little because of me, Hank. I mean, I'm not some unknown,
hypothetical person. He's-he's known about me for a long time.
He's had me under his roof. He knows at least a little about me."
Hank doesn't
know what to say to that, and frankly, I wouldn't be able to tell him what
I'd want to hear. "Marie, you know, if the tests do show you to be
his child, he will provide for you. He will want to try to form some
kind of relationship with you, I believe that. He would not turn his
back on a child of his, no matter what the circumstances."
"And if
that's not what I want?"
"I do not
know what will happen then. I-it is a complex and difficult situation.
But I would encourage you, despite your history with the x-men, to be open
to exploring a friendship with Charles. He *is* a good man."
"I know
he's your friend." A good man-that I don't buy. Good men don't
judge other people by who they're related to. Good men don't start
out not trusting people they don't know. Good men don't know it's possible
that they have a child and never even try to find out for sure. Good
men don't leave their children to the fates, or to evil moms. Maybe
he's a good man, but he hasn't been especially good to me.
"I should
know tomorrow afternoon. I shall call with the results as soon as possible."
"Thanks,
Hank." I didn't really get to ask everything I wanted to, but I think
I know enough. I know enough to start planning what to do if he is
my father. Because I know for sure what I don't feel comfortable doing
is waiting for him to take the initiative, letting him decide how this is
all going to be.
"Hey, you
still up?"
Yes, I'm
still up. After hours of sex and nice, gentle touching and holding,
I'm still up. Nothing's relaxing me, not even that. "Yeah."
"Maybe this
is one of those times when you should talk to me about stuff." Good
men-that's Logan. He's the only good man, good person I've really known.
He's someone who's always good to *me.* Maybe he's not, you know, out
saving the world or anything, but he takes care of me.
"I've got
this gut feeling that he's my dad, and it's making me really unhappy."
Oh, God, I'm crying already.
"It don't
hafta mean anythin' if he is."
"But it
will mean something, it will. It'll mean that neither one of my parents
wanted me. It'll mean that both of them just-they've both locked me
up, they both think I'm awful. They're my family, and they-they don't
love me, not at all. Why is that? Am I-am I just defective or
a bad daughter or something? I mean, you know, beyond the obvious defects
like the skin. Is it-"
"Now you
listen to me." I don't think he's ever really interrupted me before,
not like that. And he's squeezing me awfully tight. "You tell
me all the time how I'm not-how nothin's wrong with me even if I don't remember
stuff and even if I have the claws. There ain't nothin' wrong with
you either."
"I know
you don't think so." I've just got to squirm around and kiss him for
that. Just a little, just on his sideburns. "But I'm just-I guess
I wonder why they do."
"I don't
remember ever havin' a family, but you know that shit they say 'bout blood
bein' thicker than water. I don't think that's true. There's
somethin' about pickin' who you're gonna be with, who you're gonna make into
your family, that's more and better than just landin' in the middle of some
bunch of shitheads."
"I think
that too. I guess I just have this childish wish for my mom and dad
to love me, to want me, to take care of me. I keep wishing for that
no matter how much evidence there is to the contrary, no matter how many
times they hurt me. I don't know how to stop doing that."
I don't
have to look at him to know he's thinking. He's making those little
grunts that mean he's working it out in his head. You know, now that
I think about it, I've spent a lot of my life doing that-wanting people to
love me, or at least not to hurt me, and being disappointed when they don't
do that. It makes me wonder where that comes from, because there's
definitely no logical basis for that. I mean, if the sky is blue every
single day, why would you keep waking up expecting to find it green or something?
But that's essentially what I'm doing with wishing for Mystique to somehow
stop hating me and wishing for a dad who would have known me somehow, who
wouldn't have been the kind of person to just lock me up. It's not
logical, but it's so strong, and I wonder if-
"Some things
'bout us-some things just are. Maybe you'll always be kinda wishin'
for that, but you don't hafta always be tryin' to get it from people who ain't
gonna give it to ya. Maybe you can't help wantin' it, but maybe what
you do is just stop doin' stuff that you know ain't gonna give it to you."
God - that's pretty astute, pretty good advice. "Did that make sense?"
"A lot.
And it made me feel better too." He always gets that smile when he feels
like he did something that he was a little iffy about right. It's a
very good smile.
"You got
anythin' else you wanna tell me?"
"No, let's
just-let's just try to get some sleep for now." And I think I can
now. I think I can.
"Marie?"
"Just cut
to the chase, Hank."
"The tests
indicate that there is a 99.7% chance that the Professor is your father."
""
"Marie,
are you all right?"
"Yeah.
Thanks, Hank. Thanks for letting me know."
"The Professor
would like for you to return to Westchester. He realizes that you may
not want to return to the mansion, but he feels that -"
"I'm not
coming back, Hank, you know that."
"Marie,
he-he would like to talk with you about this news. He would like to
get to know you."
"I'm not-that's
not what I want. I'm glad I know-I mean, at least I know the truth,
I don't have to wonder about it-but I don't think I want to do anything about
it."
"I know
it is a difficult situation for you."
"I appreciate
you being good about all this, Hank."
"I will
let the Professor know that you will not be coming."
"Thanks.
Give Jules a hug for me, OK?"
"Certainly.
Take care of yourself, Marie."
"I am.
Goodbye, Hank."
"Professor?"
"Yes, please
do come in." He appears almost nervous. It is a side I have not
seen much from Charles, but I recognize that emotion, that mise-en-scene.
The unsure father. I have seen it in my own mirror on more than one
occasion over the past few weeks, and I sympathize.
"I am sorry,
but Marie will not be coming. I gave her the test results, but she
does not wish to come to Westchester at this time."
"I was expecting
that response, actually." And yet, he sounds crestfallen by it.
"If I had only known when she came here.."
"It is unfortunate.
But she may change her mind in time. She may-she is still very young,
and not long out of Mystique's grasp. Perhaps when she is on better
emotional ground."
"Perhaps.
But I admit, I do not wish to wait. There is much I am curious about,
much I wish to share with her, much I wish to-to make up for."
"You did
not know. You should not blame yourself for what has happened to her;
the blame for that lies squarely with Mystique."
"Thank you,
Hank." Charles is a deeply private man; that is all he will share for
now. In some ways, I wish he would be more inclined to opening up.
He and I-we are in somewhat of a similar situation. We have both had
children thrust upon us, from out of the blue. But he must deal with
this in his own way, in his own time, as must Marie.
"Dada pway
now?"
"We can
play if you like." My son. That never ceases to move me.
There is nothing else like it in the world-he is flesh of my flesh, bone
of my bone. A genetic extension into the future, a continuation of
all the McCoys that have come before. My son. "What would you
like to play today?"
"Us pway
names." Ah, yes, he quite likes to learn more words, more names for
things. He is brilliant, my son.
"Names sounds
like fun. Let's try some new ones. This is a light bulb.
It makes light."
"Wite boob."
"Very good."
Aaah. I was waiting for him to become curious, to seek out some objects
on his own rather than waiting for me to point them out. It never takes
long.
"Wat dis?"
"That is
a towel rack. It holds up our towels after we bathe to allow them to
dry." He is finally becoming more accustomed to bathing. It must
have served as a precursor to something painful or frightening at the lab.
I must be more careful with him, more mindful of the lingering effects of
that experience. I do not wish to repeat the needle fiasco. I
cannot bear to induce that kind of fear in him.
"Wat dis?"
"That's
a picture. That particular picture is one of your grandparents, my
mother and father."
"Fawvoo?"
"Yes, father.
It is another word for dada."
"Ah!
You me dada."
"Yes, that's
right, I am your father."
"Dis you
dada?"
"Yes, it
is." I wonder why he is so perplexed by that. Perhaps he is still
too young to really understand familial relationships. Perhaps-
"But you
big. Dis dada not so big." Ah, I see.
"Well, yes,
that happens sometimes. Sometimes family members look very different
from one another. Not all dadas are large, like me."
"Me want
big dada."
"Well, you
are most fortunate, then." When he scrambles up on the bed, that is
usually indicative of his desire to sleep. I believe we have come to
the end of the lesson for today. "Are you sleepy?"
"Uh-huh.
Dada be here?" He has always wanted assurances of my presence when
he sleeps. It wrenches my heart to know that he needs that so desperately-a
protector to watch over him-but it satisfies me immensely that he is comforted
by my presence, that he believes that I will protect him.
"I will
remain right here until you awake."
"Dada watch
me?"
"Yes, I
will watch over you. You are my son, my family, and I will always take
very good care of you Jules. Now that I have found you, I will always
watch over you."
"Good. Dada
big."
"Yes, I
am. Now, close your eyes and I will turn out the light. It is
time for sleep for both of us." My son. My child. There
is nothing in the world like that kind of love, nothing even close.
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