Updated PartTitle: Once Upon A Late December Night
Author: Duchess Curry
Fandom: X-Men (cartoons/comics)
Beta: Dark Knight
Pairings: Charles/Nightcrawler, Hank/Logan, Gambit/Iceman, Scott/Archangel
Summary: A Christmas Fic
Archive: here
Rating: M
Parts: 1-?
Status: WIP
Series/Sequel: Nope
Disclaimer: I DON'T OWN X-Men!!!!!!!!! They belong to Marvel Comics. (You all know this)
Author's Notes: I actually got the idea for this in July, but as it's a Christmas fic, it fits better now.
Warnings: A.U. / Slash. Same old same old from me.Chapter 1
Charles Xavier looked from the Christmas tree to the happy families that surrounded it. Hank and Logan helping their three year old girl hang soft ornaments; Gambit feeding his son a bottle with Bobby smiling nearby; even Scott keeping Archangel close, and occasionally rubbing the winged mutant's stomach. Charles's stomach twisted again and his chest felt heavy. Everywhere around him was happiness of the Christmas season; but he couldn't feel it. Looking at the men who were a family to him was only making things worse.
They all had what he had been wanting; and working for, for such a long time.
Children.
Charles knew that the process wasn't going to be easy. He had no problems in that area … his partner did. Nightcrawler was the one of their pair that could conceive; but he wasn't. They had had a close call last year at Christmas; but it turned out to be false.
Charles had been strong then. He knew that he had to; or the compassionate mutant who choose to stand beside him would have been in worse shape than he was. Nightcrawler had gotten over it; and was happy and hopeful.
Charles was not. And the time of year wasn't helping. He scowled at the season, then turned from the happy group and wheeled away. They didn't notice that he was gone.
`They don't notice … They don't care. My boys are all so obsessed with life right now … And Christmas …' "I hate Christmas" he muttered to himself. "I'm not going down tomorrow, they won't notice that I'm gone. They won't care."
The Professor didn't bother to change clothes. He just swung himself out of his wheelchair and into his bed. "Bah humbug." He said, and tried to doze off. It didn't work. He lay there, listening to the X-Men putting their children to bed, then going off to theirs. Charles looked over at the small, luminous clock next to his bed. Quarter to eleven at night. Sighing, he went back to staring at the ceiling.
Thwump.
Charles blinked at the unfamiliar noise. He sat up a little, and looked around. Nothing.
Thwump.
There it was again. Charles closed his eyes, and tried to find the source of the noise. But there was nothing. There was silence.
Bam!Bam!Bam!Bam!Bam!
Someone loudly slammed into his door, knocking.
"Come in." Charles yelled out.
No answer.
Confused, and slightly creeped out, Charles swung himself out of bed, and back into his chair. He wheeled over to the door and opened it. Nothing. Sighing at his imagination; Charles closed the door and turned around. He had to jump at the sight of a gray, ghostly mist flowing into his room from the window. The room got eerily cold; leaving Charles shivering as the room filled with the white gray mist. A sudden flash of white gray light made him shield his eyes.
"Charles Xavier." A woman's fierce Scottish accent bit into his ears. Squinting, the Prof saw his old friend Myra standing before him.
"You can't be here."
"And you can't be acting like this at Christmas. Charles, think about what you are doing."
Charles glared at the ghostly form before him. "I've got to get some sleep. I'm hallucinating."
Almost immediately after saying that, the Prof felt a cold hand around his throat. "Don't tempt me Charles. Things are bad enough for you right now. I have to warn you. If you do not snap out of the funk that you have been in, we are not responsible for what happens next."
"What are you talking about?" The hand eased from around his throat, but the room grew colder still.
"Expect the next when the bell tolls one."
"What are you talking about?" Charles yelled back at Myra.
But same as she appeared, with the white gray mist creeping back out of the window. "Wait!" The Prof yelled again; but it was too late.
The room went back to it's normal temperature, and everything was as it had been before. The Prof looked around; but everything was normal. Quickly he wheeled through the building, to the control room. Charles watched through the surveillance videos from the past half hour … but there was nothing.
"Humbug" he muttered; and went back to bed.
Charles slept fitfully. He was used to have Nightcrawler's warm body next to him; so his companion's absence that night was felt. Also, his mind was troubled. Charles knew that he had seen something; but there was no record of it … It didn't make sense. But he fell asleep anyway.
Bong! The grandfather clock in the main hallway struck one.
The little clock next to the Professor's bed started beeping.
Groggily he reached over and switched it off.
"Funny, I don't remember setting that." He muttered.
"Ya didn't; but I did."