Chapter 227 – "Masks and Mothers"
Night pressed close around the Xavier mansion, stars sharp above the treeline. Logan leaned against the stone wall, cigar glowing in the dark, smoke curling lazy around his face.
Peace didn't last.
His nose twitched. A familiar sting. Ozone, gun oil, perfume laced with deceit.
He growled, stepping into the shadows. The tiger's stealth folded around him, body vanishing from the senses. He stalked the alleys, soundless as smoke.
A pale figure slinked under the moonlight, shifting shape with every step. Logan slid behind her, claws whispering out until the edge tickled her throat.
"Hide and seek's over, darlin'," he murmured, hot breath on her ear. "Hands where I can see 'em."
Mystique stiffened, but slowly raised her hands. "You always did have a nose for trouble, Logan."
"Or maybe trouble just wears the same perfume," he shot back. "Why're you skulkin' 'round my backyard? You after somethin'?"
Her eyes flicked, dangerous. "I came to see my daughter."
He shoved her forward into the open. Rogue's voice rang, startled. "Mama?"
The girl froze, caught between anger and longing. Logan folded his arms, staying back. Let it play out.
Mystique's smile was thin. "Why didn't you come back, Anna? Your mind's clear again. You could've come home."
Rogue's fists clenched. Her voice cracked. "I don't wanna go back. I wanna change."
Mystique's calm shattered. "Change? Is this how you repay me—for raising you, for giving you a home?"
Rogue grabbed her hands, desperate. "Come with me! Please. You don't have to fight forever. You can change too!"
Mystique's eyes softened for half a heartbeat. Then steel returned. She yanked her hands free. "Not until mutants are free."
She turned to leave. Logan's voice followed, low, sharp as a knife. "That's it? Came all this way to play the tragic mother and then walk out?"
Her eyes narrowed. "Unless you have more threats to growl, I think we're done."
Logan took a drag from his cigar, exhaling smoke slow. "You came to see your foster kid. Fine. But you gonna leave without seein' your real one?"
Mystique froze.
Logan's eyes glowed in the dark. "I can smell it, darlin'. The blood don't lie. Kurt's yours. Ain't no point hidin' it from me."
Her face twisted, flickering through shapes—anger, denial, grief. Finally, the mask slammed down. "I don't know what you're talking about."
And she was gone, slipping into the night.
Silence stretched. Rogue stared at the empty alley, tears burning her eyes. Logan dropped the butt of his cigar, grinding it out under his boot.
"Sometimes, kid," he muttered, voice rough, "family ain't worth the scars it leaves."
Rogue swallowed, nodding. Neither of them believed it, but neither said a word more.
The next morning, sunlight spilled into the mansion's dining hall. The long oak table groaned under the weight of eggs, bacon, coffee, toast, and one half-burned pile of Logan's attempt at pancakes.
Storm sipped tea with her usual grace. Nightcrawler dangled upside down from the chandelier, munching on toast. Colossus ate with quiet precision, each bite neat as folded paper. Kitty leaned on her elbows, Lockheed perched on her shoulder, chewing bacon noisily. Rogue sat across from Logan, still quiet from the night before.
Charles Xavier rolled into the room, serene but stern. His gaze swept the table. "Your teamwork," he began, "cannot possibly be worse."
Logan snorted into his coffee. "Don't be harsh, Chuck. We're tryin'."
"It is because you are trying," Xavier replied evenly, "that I am speaking calmly. From now on, every mission will involve random pairings. Two at a time. You will learn to adapt to each other's style. When the greater threats come, you will already have the synergy to survive."
Kitty whispered under her breath, "Always so hard on us. No wonder he's got all those wrinkles."
Xavier's head turned slowly. "Did you say something, Kitty?"
Logan choked, half-chewed pancake launching from his mouth as he tried not to laugh.
Storm arched a brow. "Logan. Are you all right?"
He wheezed, pounding the table. "Wrinkles, ha—"
Colossus hid his smile behind a napkin. Nightcrawler muffled a snicker from above. Even Rogue bit back a grin.
Kitty's eyes went wide, cheeks blazing. "I—I didn't mean—"
Xavier's stare held, unblinking, until the room was dead quiet. Then, almost imperceptibly, his lips twitched at the corner.
Logan caught it. Smirked wide. "Aw, hell. He does have a sense of humor. World's end must be comin'."
The table erupted, laughter spilling free, Storm shaking her head in exasperation, Kitty groaning into her hands, Nightcrawler flipping down to thump Logan on the back.
For one morning, at least, they were a family.
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