Blood Is Thicker Than Water
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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