Molotov Heart {Alex Summers | X-Men}

12. vemödalen.

spent the days d r e a m i n g
and the n i g h t s awake

Alex stays for two weeks, in this old house, in his old room, right next to Aoibheal’s – Sean’s – room. On his first night, Aoibheal makes them all dinner the only way she knows how, gripping at red-hot pan handles and giggling as Hank and Alex instinctively flinch. Charles chides her, but then Alex is throwing a meatball at Hank and Charles finds himself smiling, looking exasperated but relaxed, and eats his own spaghetti. He lets the his friends enjoy one another’s’ company, the feeling so warm and familiar and normal that it set him on edge, just a little, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop.

When kids approach them, more often than not they’re after Aoibheal, small, nervous and fragile like she had never allowed herself to be, not since Darwin’s death and Angel’s betrayal. A tiny girl, no older than seven, climbs Aoibheal like she’s a tree and sits herself on Aoibheal’s shoulders, eyes shining with mischief as she looks over the adults from her new vantage point. It’s with a fond smile that Aoibheal introduces her to Alex as Jubilee, the little girl showering them with light as it crackled from her hands. Gasping with wide eyes, Aoibheal spins around and crows about how incredible Jubilee is, praising her so sincerely that Jubliee’s proud, toothy smile warms the hearts of the other adults. Before she leaves, Jubilee steals Aoibheal’s dinner and steals away into the rest of the house, but Aoibheal shrugs and plucks some of Hank’s noodles from his plate.

They part ways for the night and Aoibheal can feel the contentment filling her up, the warm, fuzzy glow that she hasn’t felt in years. Her paperwork still gets done by midnight, but when she slips away to the bunker to train, there’s an excitement that has her giddy and bouncing about. Like their creator, the clones are all ecstatic, even the one sitting on the original as she works through a set of push-ups is giggling. Another clears their throat and lets out a Banshee scream, but then there’s an exclamation of ‘God damn it, Sean!’ from the other side of the door and the clones explode, not worried about the bunker, nor herself, so when she opens the door, Alex is greeted by the sight of a single, blank-faced Aoibheal and the raging fire behind her.

He stammers out that it was a reflex, and though Aoibheal assures him that it’s fine, she still doesn’t look right. Aoibheal lets the flames lick at her hands, snuffs them out if they get too close, and a clone brings Alex the backup fire extinguisher should he need it. They talk for what feels like hours in this place they both call their own. For the first time, Alex mentions his little brother, a kid named Scott who he doesn’t see a lot, but loves more than anything in the world. Expression soft, Aoibheal finally sees him looking genuinely fond of someone, the genuine, unguarded affection makes him look younger, less world-weary; in return, all she knows is that her mouth is dry and her mind is blank. He catches her staring and her face turns scarlet, murmuring something indistinct about being tired. The way she fumbles for an excuse is surprisingly endearing, and despite his amused smirk, Alex gets to his feet and suggests they head back inside.

Instead of sleep, they end up on the sofa, side-by-side and watching television like old times. Aoibheal spends almost ten minutes digging through one of the many linen closets in the Xavier mansion until she found a large, fluffy blanket that smelled like home, and she wraps it around the two of them, just as she lets Alex wrap and arm around her shoulder. They both claim it’s for nostalgia reasons, but now, as they are, they fit together without realising, two complimentary puzzle pieces.

“It was you in Washington.” There’s no question in his words, a week in and he’s using her clones as target practice, the original standing by his side in the bunker, arms folded. “And Paris, too.” Humming noncommittally, one of the clones’ explosions is a little harsher than necessary; when Alex turns to look at her, Aoibheal’s expression is hard and cold, refusing to look at him.