Warren's Return - Part 6

Posted on Mon Dec 23rd, 2024 @ 12:43am by Jean Grey & Pietro Maximoff & Warren Worthington III & Scott Summers & Bobby Drake & Hank McCoy

4,732 words; about a 24 minute read

Mission: Episode 5: Days of Fortune Past
Location: Baxter Building
Timeline: November 18, 1990

The brisket had just finished, filling the kitchen with its rich aroma as Jean set the table with the final touches—a hearty spread of roasted vegetables, a basket of warm bread, and a salad she’d tossed together just as the timer went off. The buzzer rang, and Scott, still clutching a serving spoon, glanced at Jean.

“I’ll get it.” He went to the door and pressed the button to let their friends into the apartment.

Bobby was first to arrive. Being a former resident, he quickly made himself at home and flopped onto the sofa. After wiggling himself to be more comfortable, he cocked his head over his shoulder at Scott and Jean. “Did you get a new one? This doesn’t feel right…”

The two lovers gave each other a knowing look. In fact, the couch had been replaced after Jean and Scott destroyed the previous one doing what couples do when they finally had a moment alone in their own home. Bobby had been asked to leave soon after, so he had never made the connection until now. “I liked the old one better.”

Jean couldn’t help but smirk at the racey mental picture that passed through her mind. She shared the dirty little scene with Scott, her eidetic memory leaving out no details.

“So did we,” Scott quipped, not letting his inner amusement show through even a tic.

“You don’t like my redecorating?” Jean faked being offended as she lit the tall candles on the dining room table. “I finally got it decorated the way I like it.”

The buzzer went off again, this time it was Warren who entered. “I realized I didn’t know what we were having so I brought red and whi…” He trailed off as he took in the apartment for the first time. “Your place is so much bigger and with a much better view.”

“Hello to you too, Warren.” Jean replied but she could tell he wasn’t listening to her.

“You can see Central Park…” Warren wandered down the hallway inviting himself on a tour of their place. “Two bedrooms… and two bathrooms… Jesus you two, it smells like sex in here!”

“Warren!” Jean’s cheeks turned pink at the brazen comment. “You weren’t invited to wander around.”

“I wonder what it smells like in your bedroom,” Scott shot back. He was too proud in the moment to be offended even though he should be, if only for Jean’s sake.

“Uh, let’s not go there,” Bobby chimed in, suddenly nervous with the direction of the conversation. His eyes shifted around the room and avoided contact with anyone else. “People’s bedrooms are off limits. Let’s just leave it at that.”

“I was just examining the real estate,” Warren said with a shrug as he came back to the dining and living room. “I should say ‘how was I supposed to know’ but we all know that isn’t true, you two have always fucked like rabbits. At least some things never change,” Warren said with a chuckle tinged with nostalgia.

Life had changed dramatically for all of them but it was weirdly comforting to find the familiar in the trivial moments even if it did have to do with something like Scott and Jean’s personal life.

“At least some things never change,” Jean repeated as she pulled Scott in for a kiss that was far more heated than what many would deem appropriate for mixed company.

Bobby’s cheeks flushed at such blunt talk of their friends’ romantic activities. “Can we ixnay on the PDA?”

The door chime sounded again. “Saved by the bell!” Bobby jumped up from the couch and ran to the door. “I’ll get it!”

When he opened the door, he saw Hank’s large frame, slouched slightly, and his expression a mixture of exhaustion and melancholy. Hank was dressed in his trenchcoat and fedora hat, a meager attempt to hide his appearance. His hat was skew, though, and his glasses perched lower on his nose than usual.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Dr. McCoy, joining us straight from the library of brooding scholars,” Bobby quipped, stepping aside to let Hank enter. “What’s the matter, blue? Did the thesaurus run out of synonyms for ‘late’?”

Hank hesitated in the doorway, clearly caught off guard, but then his frown softened into a wan smile. “Ah, Robert,” he replied, his voice tinged with weariness but steady. “As Oscar Wilde once said, ‘It is always fashionable to be late. One should never arrive on time. Punctuality is the thief of time.’”

Bobby raised an eyebrow. “Wilde, huh? You sure he wasn’t just making excuses for you?”

Hank chuckled softly, stepping fully into the room. “Perhaps, but I assure you, my tardiness is unintentional. I… I was not prepared for an outing, but I did make all due haste.”

“Well, Hank, you’re just in time for dinner,” Scott offered, putting an end to Bobby’s teasing.

The shadow of grief flickered in Hank’s eyes before he masked it with a gracious nod. “And now, I am here to celebrate the company of my dear friends. Please, do not let me interrupt.”

Bobby clapped a hand on Hank’s shoulder as he guided him toward the table, picking up Scott’s cue. “Interrupt? Nah, you’re the main event, buddy. We were just killing time until you showed up.”

Hank’s lips twitched into a faint but genuine smile. “Then let us not waste another moment, shall we?”

“What am I? Chopped liver?” Pietro teased as he entered the apartment on Hank’s coattails, almost like he was waiting until the last person arrived before he did. With a cake box in hand he side stepped Hank and looked over the group in front of him. Six months ago he would have laughed in your face if you told him he would be here, eating roast with the First Class of Xavier’s.

“Thanks for bringing a dessert, Pietro,” Jean said with the warm smile that a proper hostess and friend would provide.

“Yeah. Sure.” Quicksilver became slightly uncomfortable with her kindness, Jean had always made him nervous and when she was nice it was exaggerated. He handed her the cake box and took a few steps back.

“I’m so glad you decided to join us, Hank.” Jean wrapped an arm around him and sweetly kissed his cheek. “I’m sorry it was so last minute but I’m happy to see you.”

Hank’s expression softened further as Jean’s warmth melted the tension he hadn’t realized he was carrying. He adjusted his glasses again, a familiar gesture of composure that belied the warmth growing in his chest.

“Dearest Jean,” he said, his voice tinged with affection, “there is no such thing as ‘last minute’ when one is greeted with such grace. Your invitation was a light in a rather shadowy week. I am pleased to be here, albeit slightly tardy.” He gave a slight bow of his head, an old-fashioned flourish.

“Yeah, you weren’t the only one though.” Bobby stuck a playful elbow between Pietro’s ribs.

Hank glanced over his shoulder at Pietro, who had taken up a position by the far wall, feigning disinterest while fiddling with his silver hair. Hank’s smile thinned. The better part of his experience with the other man had been adversarial, although Hank had been present when Pietro swore off the Brotherhood in this very building nearly two months ago.

“I must confess, Pietro, that your new addition to X-Factor has given me much to ponder.” Hank first looked at Pietro from over his shoulder, but paused to shift in order to face the other man as he spoke to him. “I admit,” Hank began, his voice steady but contemplative, “that your defection at the peace conference was… unexpected. In many ways, you represent the ideology we have opposed for so long, and it would be disingenuous to say I feel no disquiet.” He paused, taking a breath and offering them all a gentle smile. “But if you are to walk the path of redemption, I would be remiss to deny you that chance. Even adversaries may become allies in time.”

Hank straightened and offered a chuckle, his tone lightening to brush away the weight of his words. “Besides, there is no better crucible for testing one's mettle than enduring a dinner with Scott and Warren under the same roof.”

“You are free to go, you know,” Scott cut in with his tongue pressed against his cheek.

“Stop.” Jean playfully slapped Scott across the chest as she passed him in her walk to the kitchen. “Everyone sit down before it gets cold.”

She stepped away for a moment and delivered the cake to the kitchen and when she came back, Jean stopped and examined the sight in front of her. All five of them were sitting at the table, talking and joking with one another. It was a moment that she thought might never come and to see it before her, it brought a tear to her eye.

Pushing down the tightness in her chest, Jean made her way to the table and took her place next to Scott. The swell of emotions wasn’t lost on him and she felt that touch of hope and optimism coming from him too.

“Warren, I’ll have a glass of wine.” Jean reached out with her glass in hand as she caught Warren in mid-pour for himself.

“Sure thing, my beauty queen,” Warren said while using his nickname for her that he had coined as a teenager. Once he finished with his glass, he filled hers. “Anyone else?”

“God yes!” Pietro said with a little bit too much eager enthusiasm. He was obviously uncomfortable at this meal.

“Me, too!” Bobby said a little too eagerly, holding his glass out as well.

Scott pursed his lips as he debated the gesture, but then shrugged and kept silent. ~Call it a special occasion~ It was a justification that only Jean could hear, as she was the only one privy to his internal deliberations.

Hank raised a brow at Bobby’s enthusiasm, his lips twitching into a wry, knowing smile. He adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat.

“Well, Robert,” he began, his tone half-teasing but edged with the weight of experience, “while I would be the last to spoil a convivial gathering such as this, I must point out that your relationship with libations is, shall we say, less than sterling. Youthful exuberance and alcohol have not always made the most flattering bedfellows in your case.”

Bobby flushed slightly, lowering his glass but not withdrawing it entirely. “Come on, Hank, it’s just one glass. You’re not going to lecture me here, are you?”

Hank gave a gentle chuckle, his voice softening as his gaze swept over the table. “Far be it from me to rain on this parade, particularly when the gathering itself is such a rare treasure. Life, after all, is too short to live solely by the rules. There is merit, I think, in allowing oneself to savor moments of indulgence—when those moments are tempered with responsibility, of course.”

The playful lilt in his voice softened the admonishment, and Bobby grinned sheepishly. “Fair enough, Hank. I’ll keep it classy.”

“Yes,” Scott affirmed with a stern, almost fatherly tone. “Yes, you will.”

Warren laughed again, their dynamics felt the same as they always had and it was a surprisingly comforting experience.

“Poor Bobby, the baby of the group. You can never catch a break, can you?” Warren said with a smile as he poured Bobby a glass of wine but his wasn’t quite as full as everyone else’s.

“Be nice, Warren.” Jean scolded him while serving Scott dinner and then herself. “If you’re going to give Bobby a glass then give him a full glass.”

Warren rolled his eyes but complied, filling Bobby’s glass to the same height as everyone else’s.

“So Hank,” Jean passed Hank the mashed potatoes as she spoke. “How’s your research going? Any breakthroughs to speak of?”

It was a touchy subject, what with Hank being the unwilling creator of the nanotechnology that turned Warren into the Omega Sentinel. “I’m afraid that I have reached a plateau in my… primary area of research, but there are minor projects which show promise.” He paused for a moment to see if there would be any hard feelings. When none were expressed, he continued. “I… received an invitation from your colleague, Reed Richards, to join his Future Foundation. If his resources are as extensive as he claims, then perhaps I may shift some of my weightier research to his lab in hopes of attaining the elusive breakthrough we all so desperately desire.”

Scott bit back a smirk. It had been like pulling teeth to get Hank to consider joining X-Factor, but leave it to a mad scientist to get his brilliant friend’s attention.

“You sure about that, Hank?” Bobby asked. “That dude is a few fries short of a Happy Meal if you get me.”

“Oh?” Hank inquired. “How do you mean?”

“Reed Richards is brilliant and his lab and resources are unparalleled but he’s also incredibly reckless.” Jean attempted to clarify Bobby’s statement as well as provide her own concerns. “He is so caught up in the exploration and the discovery that he doesn’t consider the risk or the consequences involved.” The accident that resulted in the Reed space exploration turning them into the Fantastic Four was proof enough of that statement. “He has evaluated Scott and Bobby and his testing has been… inconsiderate. But I think someone like you would be good for Reed.”

“He’s a clueless nerd,” Pietro chimed in after he finished his glass of wine a little too quickly. “He just cares about himself and what he wants to achieve.”

They all looked over at Quicksilver, he was rarely present at any of their meetings or conversations.

“What?” He asked while pouring himself another glass of wine. “Sue likes to talk.”

“Bet that ain’t all she likes to do…” Bobby quipped under his breath.

“Bobby!” Scott said sternly. He did not at all like the tenor of his muffled joke. Infidelity was no laughing matter.

“Oh my…” Hank put his napkin against his mouth, at a loss for words himself. Trapped between awkward chuckling and honest concern, he glanced at Jean. “Is… there cause for concern?” There was genuine concern that perhaps he would be entering a situation best left alone for someone in his position.

“I think you just need to be aware of his hasty decision making.” Jean attempted to ease some of Hank’s concerns. “Don’t be afraid to second guess him and to ask questions, keep in mind that he’s occupied with the end result not the journey.” She took another sip of her wine. “Honestly, I think your presence in his lab would be good for him.”

“Well, then, it’s settled,” Hank said. “If the hour is not too late, perhaps I’ll pay him a visit after dinner.”

Scott’s brow furrowed. “One other thing, Hank. There are two others up there, Johnny and Ben, who aren’t exactly… polite to new faces. Just stay on your toes.”

Bobby grinned, always eager to add his two cents. “Oh yeah, and watch out for Johnny’s revolving door of girlfriends. If you’re in the lab too late, you might have to dodge some of his, uh… extracurricular activities. Then again,” Bobby added with a sly smile, “maybe you’ll meet a cute nerdy girl hanging around the building. They’re probably more your speed, anyway.”

Hank visibly cringed at the suggestion, the mention of finding someone stirring an ache he’d carefully buried. Mara’s death was still fresh, the wound raw. His hand faltered slightly as he adjusted his glasses, his blue fur catching the light. For a moment, the table fell into an awkward silence.

Sensing the shift, Bobby cleared his throat and reached for his wine glass, sliding it in front of his plate to cut himself off before anyone else could do so. “Uh… Or, y’know, just focus on your science stuff,” he added quickly, his silly bravado shrinking under the weight of his faux pas.

“Don’t be a dipshit, Bobby.” Warren smacked the back of his head before taking another bite of dinner. “His girlfriend died.”

Pietro laughed at the interaction before burying his face into his third glass of wine.

“Hank, I think that’s a lovely idea.” Jean reached out and placed a hand on his forearm as she smiled at him. “I can give them a heads up that you’re interested in visiting so Ben and Johnny won’t be as abrasive. Plus, if you stay too late there is an apartment available for you to spend the night in. We’ve always saved a place for you just in case.”

Scott nodded firmly, his tone supportive but with the usual weight of his decisive opinion. “Jean’s right, Hank. You’re welcome here anytime. That’s not just words—you’re family. You always have been. And if you ever need space to work or just to clear your head, you know you’ve got it here.”

Bobby, who had been rubbing the back of his head where Warren smacked him, grumbled half-heartedly, “Yeah, Hank, we’d love to see you more. Not like we’re swimming in other visitors from the Mansion. What gives?” He punctuated his question with a playful pout, though his curiosity was genuine.

Hank chuckled softly at Bobby’s theatrics, shaking his head as he adjusted his glasses. “The Professor’s schedule is a tyrant, I’m afraid. It’s not the distance that creates the divide but the ever-turning cogs of our respective commitments.” He leaned back slightly, his rich baritone taking on a thoughtful tone as he added, “But as Cicero wrote in his treatise on friendship: ‘It is not the length of time spent together, but the measure of the bond that counts.’ Distance and circumstance may separate us, but the ties of our camaraderie remain undiminished. That is why moments like this…”—he gestured around the table—“are so precious.”

“A change of pace might be good for you, Hank.” Jean continued to encourage her teammate. “We’ve all been at the mansion since we were kids and while it will always feel like home, it’s nice to have a place that feels more like our own.” She gestured towards the living room and its modern deco, it was very different from the mansion. “And on a personal level, I couldn’t stay there after everything that had happened. It hurt too much and was too uncomfortable, being here is a fresh start that helped my mental health immensely.”

Warren momentarily glared at Scott for the role he played in making Jean feel uncomfortable at the school but he remained focused on the positive. Getting Hank to change was hard and he was a mess these days. Warren would rather Hank lose himself in his work in a space that they could at least check in on him. “At least try it, if you don’t like it you can go back to school.”

Hank’s lips twitched into a faint smile, his rich baritone laced with humor as he replied, “Ah, Warren, you’ve stumbled upon my perpetual truth: I am, and shall forever remain, the eternal student. Though in this case, perhaps it is time for a sabbatical of sorts.” He inclined his head toward Warren in a rare moment of gratitude. “Thank you for the suggestion, my old friend. A change of pace may indeed be in order.”

He turned his attention to Jean, his smile softening into something more reflective. “While I may not yet be ready to leave the familiar entirely, I acknowledge the merit of finding a space where one’s soul might breathe anew.” His eyes met hers for a brief moment, unspoken understanding passing between them.

To the rest of the table, Hank leaned back slightly and adjusted his glasses. “As for the Mansion, it is never dull. The new class of students is, shall we say, delightfully singular in their idiosyncrasies.”

Bobby barked a laugh, leaning forward with a crooked grin. “You mean they’re fucking weird, don’t you?”

Hank chuckled deeply, shaking his head. “I would never be so indelicate, Robert. Though I must admit, one does occasionally feel as though one has wandered into the pages of a particularly experimental piece of speculative fiction.”

Scott snorted into his wine. “That’s just a polite way of saying ‘weird,’ Hank.”

“Oh come on now, give us the dirt. Who’s weird?” Pietro said with a smirk, he seemed to love gossip in any format.

Hank leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers thoughtfully as the table waited for his response. His smile widened, though it carried a wry touch. “Very well, since you insist on a glimpse into the curious tapestry of our newest students, I shall endeavor to provide an account that is both enlightening and, I hope, not too hyperbolic.”

He took a sip of wine before beginning. “Let us start with Aurora. Delightful and disarming, yes, but also… unnervingly pleasant. She always seems to be smiling about something, yet one is never entirely certain what that something is. She’s pleasant company, but there is an unstated mystery to her that, quite frankly, unsettles even me.”

Bobby stiffened ever so slightly, his blush deepening. He stared hard at his plate, avoiding everyone’s gaze.

“Then there is Ethan,” Hank continued, the words accompanied by a small sigh. “Perhaps understandably antisocial given the trauma he has endured, but his flirtatious inclinations are... noteworthy. He seems to have a penchant for attempting to charm every male in sight short of the Professor himself.” Hank raised a brow and let the implication hang in the air.

Bobby’s blush deepened, and he coughed into his hand. “Uh, well, you know, people are complicated…”

Scott raised an eyebrow, watching Bobby curiously, but said nothing. Pietro, meanwhile, grinned wickedly, clearly enjoying Bobby’s discomfort.

Hank allowed himself a small chuckle before continuing. “And then there was Iris. A polyglot of extraordinary talent, yes, but she always seemed oddly… confused. It was as though she was forever out of step with the world around her, a quality quite unexpected for someone so adept at understanding languages.”

“And Bliss?” Scott prompted, leaning forward eagerly. This was sure to be good.

“Ah, Bliss,” Hank said with a shake of his head. “She remains one of the more enigmatic personalities I’ve encountered. Flirtatious to a fault, and yet unerringly paranoid. It’s as though she’s convinced the world both revolves around her and is out to get her simultaneously. A paradox I’ve yet to fully unravel.”

Scott laughed outright. “Nailed it!”

Hank gave him a dry look but pressed on. “And finally, we come to Connor. A study in unorthodoxy and brilliance. He challenges expectations in ways that are both refreshing and occasionally maddening. His methods may defy convention, but his results often speak for themselves if one can tolerate his antics long enough to take note.” He chuckled a bit. “If I may be so bold, I suspect he could one day succeed me in matters of intellect… and Scott in matters of leadership.”

Scott blinked, momentarily taken aback. “Connor? My successor?”

Hank nodded with a smile. “Indeed. He possesses a clarity of purpose and a resoluteness of will that mirrors your own. Of course,” he added with a wry grin, “I would caution him against inheriting your penchant for personal entanglements.”

The table erupted into laughter at Scott’s expense, and even Scott couldn’t help but smirk ruefully.

“Awesome,” Pietro said with a chuckle before taking another sip from his glass. It was so strange to see them like this, as normal people with personalities. He hated to openly admit it but he liked them, it reminded him of when he was with the circus. There was a family state of mind for a group of people who worked and lived together. Liking X-Factor was a notation that would have made his father boil with rage for a multitude of reasons.

“No more and shame on you for being a gossip,” Jean said with a giggle, she wasn’t actually upset with Hank for speaking so frankly but she was committed to her role of empath. “I’m not saying you’re wrong in your summaries but they’ve all been through enough as is.” As they finished their meal, Jean leaned against Scott who intuitively wrapped an arm around her while they both sipped on their glasses of wine.

“Hank is just filling me in so I don’t make any of the same stupid mistakes as Scott or Bobby.” Warren said with a playful smirk, “Unless Bobby, you think I should go after the one with the… how did you put it… the one with the tight little ass?”

“I didn’t… I’d never… you… but…” Bobby put his hands over his face and hid it against the tabletop.

“Robert…” Hank said in a drawn out baritone that sounded almost teasing. “You look rather flustered. Is there something you had better confess?”

Scott couldn’t help but bite his lip. As much flak as Bobby liked to give people, it was hard to interrupt someone else putting him on the back foot for once. He watched with morbid curiosity.

“No!” Bobby practically squealed, looking up long enough to deny Hank’s question. “And I don’t appreciate you insinuating I do!”

“Right, you already told Warren what it is you do appreciate,” Scott cut in, unable to contain himself.

“Yeah, Scott, you sure got me there.” Bobby held up a middle finger in the middle of the table but couldn’t keep the smirk out of his scowl.

“I never heard you tell me ‘no’.” Warren said with a sly smile from his side of the table. “I‘ll put money on it, that I can get a date with her before you do.”

“Oh man, can I get in on that? I pick Warren too,” Pietro said with a laugh.

“Enough!” Jean set her glass down with a thud, “No bets or competitions over dating the girls at school, as someone who’s been in that position it’s an absolute nightmare.”

“Thank you, Jean!” Bobby half-squealed. He looked at the others with a mock scowl. “You guys are assholes!”

Hank cleared his throat theatrically, his deep baritone rumbling with faux gravity. “Gentlemen, I believe we have sufficiently roasted our dear Robert for one evening. Let us not forget that the purpose of this gathering is camaraderie, not… how shall I put it? Mocking the romantic fumblings of our ice-bound compatriot.”

He offered Bobby a warm, conciliatory smile, though his eyes still twinkled with amusement. “Robert, my friend, rest assured, your secrets—such as they are—remain safe with us. If nothing else, your flushed complexion has provided us all with a moment of levity.” He inclined his head slightly, a playful glint in his gaze. “A fine service to your friends, truly.”

Bobby groaned but couldn’t suppress the faint smile creeping onto his face. “Thanks, Hank. You’re a real pal.”

Hank chuckled softly, raising his glass. “But of course. And as a real pal, allow me to propose a toast—to good company, spirited conversation, and the occasional embarrassment which binds us closer together.”

Raising his glass, Scott grunted his agreement. “Cheers!”

“Cheers!” Warren happily chimed in.

Jean shook her head in disbelief but smiled and also raised her glass. “Cheers.”

There was a moment of hesitation but Pietro joined in as well. “Eviva!”

Putting aside his pout, Bobby took back the wine glass he had awkwardly pushed away moments ago and joined them all with a lopsided grin. “Ditto!”

END

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