Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Nate steps out of Wade and Vanessa’s kitchen and into his own. The transition is enough to make him sick, and he bites back the urge to vomit all over Aliya’s clean floor.

He’s alone, which doesn’t surprise him. The sun shines brightly through the big window, telling him that it’s mid-morning. Aliya will be at a meeting with Hope like she always is. Every morning, like clockwork, she goes to meditate with the others.

They used to have breakfast together when he was home. Those were good times; they’d put on music for Hope, old Disney records or Annie, and Aliya would cook whatever they had on hand while he danced their daughter around the kitchen.

These days Aliya’s always at the temple. Taking Hope with her is new enough that he hadn’t had a chance to fight her on it before they died.

He stares at the spot where he found them, now as neat and tidy as the rest of the house. They’d ducked behind the table, for all the good it had done them. Aliya had tried to shield Hope with her own body and it had been enough to make him love her again. His wife loves their daughter. That’s something to cling to, even if he can’t stand the path she’s leading her down.

He turns away from the spot in disgust and opens the preservator. The paltry amount of food they have solidifies his resolve. The past has spoiled him, made him decadent and wasteful. Here, there’s no such thing as falafel or banh mi, and fresh vegetables are a luxury when they don’t come from poison ground.

Hope deserves better than this.

He goes upstairs next, to see if he wants to keep anything but the gun. Askani fibers are stronger than the mass-produced shit made in the past, but the styles he’s worn his whole life will get him mocked as a fucking sex offender in 2018.

His lips twitch. The pouches really do look like fanny packs.

The door opens downstairs, and the sound of Hope’s voice chattering to Aliya about something makes his knees go weak. He sits down heavily on the bed and clenches his fists against the wave of emotion that threatens to overwhelm him.

She’s here. She’s alive. Having proof, after a month of remembering her burned to ash, is more than he was prepared for.

“Daddy’s home!” She comes thundering up the stairs to fling herself into his arms. Nate catches her and holds her to him, smelling her herbal soap and the baby soft smell of her skin. The first time he’d held her he’d known he would never love anyone more.

“Hope,” he croaks, rocking her gently.

She pats his back absently, waiting for him to let her go. He’s clinging, he realizes, more than he should under the circumstances. And his sweet girl is indulging him.

So he lets her go and chucks her under the chin. “I think you got heavier since he last time you launched yourself at me,” he says.

“We got a whole rabbit last week!” Hope beams. “It was so good. I hope we get another one soon.”

She’s so excited over a fucking rabbit. Nate wants to tell her about all the things he’s seen, the world they used to have. Instead he looks past her to where Aliya’s paused in the doorway.

His wife has a bemused look on her face, like he’s not supposed to be here—and of course he’s not, he was out on a mission, wasn’t he? Fuck, he has no idea what he’s doing now that he’s fucked the timeline into submission.

“Nice shirt,” says Aliya.

He looks down and realizes he’s wearing one of Wade’s t-shirts. It has an old woman on it from that show he likes. “Jesus,” he mutters, and heaves a sigh.

Hope peers at him once Aliya draws attention to it. “What is it?”

“Bea Arthur,” he sighs, and gets up still holding her. “You eat yet?”

They haven’t, so he follows them back downstairs to the badly stocked preservator and sits while Aliya gets out a couple eggs and a squirrel. Celebration food; she wouldn’t use this much protein in one meal for anything less.

Nate wants to scream at her.

But Hope is still warm in his arms, and saying anything would upset her, so he sits on the stool and watches Aliya cook.

“We should put on some music,” says Hope suddenly.

Aliya pauses, and in her suddenly stiff shoulders Nate sees everything he needs to know. “Why don’t you go pick something?”

Hope slides off her stool and runs to go dig through their old record collection, leaving Nate alone with his wife.

“You went back,” she says softly.

He swallows. “Yeah.”

“It’s not done, though.” She turns around. “Why did you come back?”

Nate doesn’t want to tell her this. “You died,” he says. It feels like swallowing glass. “I fucked up and it got you and Hope killed.”

She goes pale, but only clenches her jaw. “You went back to avenge us?”

He nods, shamefaced.

“That’s not what it’s for,” she says forbiddingly.

“So what the fuck would you have done?” he snarls. “If you came home and found me and Hope burned to ash?”

Aliya’s hand tightens on the hilt of her knife. “I would have honored your legacy. Did you kill him? Whoever it was that murdered us?”

“No.” Nate looks away, remembering the horror on Russell’s face when he’d learned what Wade had saved him from. “Things got complicated.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Complicated how?”

Is there ever a good time to tell your wife that your marriage is over and you’ve taken up with a contract killer and a prostitute? “Really complicated,” he says lamely.

Aliya’s got a nose for bullshit. It’s one of the things he’d liked about her at first. Her expression sharpens, but before she can say anything Hope comes running in. “Walk,” Aliya snaps, and Hope slows down immediately, face twisting with disdain.

Nate should tell her to respect her mother. He keeps quiet.

“I picked Frozen,” Hope tells him, and all he can think of for a second is Wade. Wicked, infuriating Wade, who makes his head spin and inspires him to be a better man.

Aliya is watching him, and he feels himself nod. “Sounds good,” he manages.

Hope puts the record on and climbs up next to him, absently singing to herself as Aliya turns back to the food. “So why are you home so early, Daddy?”

“Because I missed you.” He reaches out to stroke her hair.

She wrinkles her nose. “But you’ve got a mission. Mommy says so.”

Nate looks at Aliya’s back and says, “you’re more important than any mission.”

“Without the mission there’s no future for us,” growls Aliya. It’s not the first time they’ve gone rounds about this—not even the thousandth—but it is the first time he’s dared to speak up about it in front of Hope.

“Aliya,” he starts, and she whips around to point a spatula at him.

“That’s not my name!”

Nate stares at her. “I can’t call you that.”

“Why are you doing this now? What changed back there to make you pick this fight in front of your daughter?”

“Low blow,” he says, “especially when you’re the one who started dragging her to the temple where they can fill her head with your messianic shit!”

Hope’s eyes are wide as she looks between them. “Daddy?”

Aliya bares her teeth. “Hope, go upstairs.”

“But I just put my record on!”

“I said go upstairs!” snaps Aliya. “I’ll call you down when the food is ready.”

Hope slides off her stool. “You’re never any fun anymore!”

“Go!” Aliya points with the spatula again, and Hope storms off, stomping her frustration up the stairs as loudly as she can.

“I’m taking her with me,” Nate says after her door slams shut.

Aliya stares at him. “Of course you are. I knew it was only a matter of time.”

“And how’s that?” Nate’s appalled; he wants her to fight, he realizes. He wants her to fight for their daughter.

“You belong there. This war was only a preparation for the real one, the one that’s going to save us. She shares your destiny, Nate. She always has.”

“You didn’t used to think that,” he growls. “There was a time when we both agreed she should have as normal a life as we could give her.”

“I was selfish then. How can I think about myself when there’s a world full of children that need you? And her?”

“I’m selfish,” he admits softly.

She huffs but doesn’t disagree with him. “So what year are you taking her to?” she finally asks.

“2018,” he tells her. “I have people waiting for me there.”

“Same people who left a hickey on your neck?” she asks lightly.

He winces. That was Wade. “I told you things got complicated.”

“I see that.” She turns away from him. “So who is she? I think I should know who’s going to be raising my daughter.”

“You could come,” he says, but it’s only out of loyalty. He doesn’t really want her there and he thinks she knows it.

“No,” she says slowly. “I think I’ll skip the humiliation of being phased out of my own family, if you don’t mind.”

Nate’s eyes narrow. “You talk like you didn’t do this to us,” he snarls. “We were happy, for years, and then you started listening to the old women, going to the temple. Falling in love with the idea of me while the real thing was right in front of your face!”

“I started to see the big picture, Nate!” she yells. “I kept hoping you would too.”

“I can’t be everything to everyone! I’m just a man!”

“You’re not,” she says flatly. “I wish you were.”

He stares at her, speechless.

Aliya takes a deep breath and turns back to the pan, cursing under her breath. The squirrel is burned, good protein ruined. They’ll eat it anyway, because wasting food here is worse than a sin, but it’s just another thing gone wrong.

Nate should have eaten one of those pastries Vanessa brought home.

He misses her, and it makes him feel stupid and clingy. Her calm bravado would be really helpful at a time like this.

“Might as well tell me what she’s like,” says Aliya. “This woman you met. She’ll be good to Hope?”

“Yes,” he answers. That’s one thing he’s sure of. If Vanessa and Wade can make room in their lives for Russell, then his precious daughter won’t be an issue at all.

“What’s her name?” The tension in Aliya’s shoulders betrays the casual tone of her voice.

He sighs. “You aren’t gonna like it.”

“Nope,” she agrees. “I’m 99% sure I won’t.”

Nate stares at her back and wants to hurt her. “They’re a couple,” he tells her ruthlessly. “He’s a contract killer and she’s a prostitute. They adopted the kid who would have grown up to kill you and Hope, and the only thing they ask of me is to put the seat down after I piss.”

The spatula slams down on the counter. “You don’t have to lie,” Aliya snaps. “I know you hate the burden you were born with, but that doesn’t mean you need to be cruel.”

“Because putting me on a pedestal wasn’t cruel,” he growls. “But I’m not lying. That’s who I found, back there.”

She turns around slowly and stares.

Nate stares back, refusing to be ashamed. He doesn’t know if he loves them yet, but he knows he’s going to, and he’s never going to be ashamed of the people he’s decided to call family.

“A contract killer and a prostitute,” she repeats flatly.

“Thought you trusted me to save the world,” he challenges. It’s a dick move, as Vanessa would say, but the abrupt contrast between the warmth in their house and the strained tension in his is wearing him thin.

Aliya looks furious, but only cracks the eggs into a bowl. “Is this revenge?” she asks carefully. “Or is this some new way to run away?”

He grits his teeth. “It’s my fucking life,” he snaps. “I never wanted to be your savior, I wanted to be your husband. You have any idea how fucking exhausting it is to carry the weight of the world all the goddamn time?”

“I wanted to support you! I tried to!”

“The hell you did.” Nate shakes his head. “You just admitted you don’t think of me as a man.”

She winces. “Nate—”

“It’s over, Aliya. Jenskot. Whatever the fuck you call yourself.” He leans back. “I shouldn’t have ended it like this, but I’m done pretending.”

“Well,” she says finally, “if this is ending then I want the house.”

“Jesus,” mutters Nate. The flashes of the woman he married shine through sometimes, remind him why he tried for so long to prop the rotting corpse of his marriage up in the corner and ignore the stench. He still misses her, and that’s the hell of it.

“I mean, since you’re going I figure I deserve that much.” Her tone is light, brittle. A dangerous sign.

“Thought you’d be happy,” he says coldly. “With the real me gone you can build me up in your head without interference.”

“Are you even going to think about us?” There’s the rage he’s been waiting for. “Do you even give a shit about this world or are you just going back there to play house with some whore?”

He laughs; it’s such a fucking predictable attack that he can’t even be offended on Vanessa’s behalf. “Well, god knows I haven’t been getting fucked here.”

Her face goes chalky white. “You asshole,” she whispers.

Nate shrugs. “Don’t call my girlfriend a whore.”

Aliya blinks rapidly and turns back to the eggs. When she speaks her voice is thick, like she’s holding back tears. “I’m not the one who started avoiding you.”

“No, you just started policing what we do in the bedroom.” Nate rolls his eyes.

“I’m so fucking sorry I’m not comfortable doing certain things,” she snaps.

“Fuck you,” he snaps back, and tries not to enjoy the shock on her face when she turns back to him. He’s never said that to her before. “What you weren’t comfortable with was me being a person instead of some pure holy whatever. So I like to fuck. That was never a problem before Hope was born!”

She gives him a despairing look. “There’s no point in talking about this, is there?”

The anger drains out of him. “No,” he sighs. “Not really.” He’s going and he’s taking Hope no matter what she says.

There’s a heavy silence in which the only sound is “Let It Go” playing scratchily on the record player. Nate has to fight the urge to laugh hysterically.

Aliya flips the eggs. “There’s porridge in the preservator. Will you heat it?”

And just like that, they’re back to pretending things are fine. Nate slides off the stool and opens the preservator. “You should keep the house,” he says quietly. “I would never embarrass you like that, you know. Nobody else has to know.”

She bows her head. “Kind of you.”

Nate puts the porridge on to reheat with a sigh. “Fine. Be pissed at me for leaving, Aliya, but deep down, you know you walked away first.”

“My name is Jenskot,” she tells him hollowly.

He snorts. “Have fun with that.”

“Hope!” she calls instead of answering, “you can come back down, honey!”

Hope’s door opens a little too quickly and she hops down the stairs.

Eavesdropping is rude, Nate tells her sternly.

She gives him a hard look as she resets her record. You and Mommy are breaking up.

Yeah. He won’t lie to her. She has a right to know, after all.

Because of the temple? Hope tilts her head.

Aliya slides a plate in front of her. “Eat. You’ve got a busy day ahead of you, little one.”

Hope stares down at the burned squirrel. “I know you’re getting divorced,” she says.

They both jump when Aliya cracks the spoon against the counter. “Are there no secrets between you?” she snarls.

“No.” Hope takes an insolent bite of her food. “Daddy tells me things.”

Aliya’s nostrils flare. “Did he also tell you he’s taking you back to the past to live?”

Hope looks up with wide eyes. “What?”

Damn her. Nate grits his teeth. “That was my plan, sweetie. We can talk about it more.”

She gives him a betrayed look. “But the past is terrible. Everyone says so.”

“The time I’ve been to isn’t so bad,” he says. “The air’s still clean, and there’s so much food you’ll lose your mind to look at it.”

Hope looks between them, calculating. “Mommy isn’t coming,” she says carefully.

Nate glances at Aliya. “No. She’s not.”

Hope bows her head, shoving food around her plate. “So does that mean I’ll never see you again?” she asks in a small voice.

Aliya takes a deep breath. “That’s what it means, yeah.”

Hope drops her fork. “That’s not fair!” she shouts. “Why aren’t you coming?”

“Don’t yell at me,” Aliya snaps. “I’ve told you for years that this mission is going to be yours someday, and I—”

“For fuck’s sake, she’s a little girl who’s losing her mother,” growls Nate. “Try for a goddamn second to have some compassion.”

“I don’t want to lose my mother!” Hope’s voice cracks. “Why won’t you come with us?”

Aliya’s face crumples and she comes around the counter to gather Hope in a tight hug. “My place is here,” she whispers into her hair. “Sweet brave girl, I was never gonna get to keep you.”

Hope lets out a sob, clinging to Aliya like she can make her stay. “Yes you can! You can keep me, you can! Come with us!”

Aliya looks up, eyes brimming with tears, and looks at Nate. “Everything happens for a reason,” she whispers. “Have faith, my sweet.”

“I don’t care about faith!” Hope yells, pushing her away. “I don’t care about the mission or anything!” The plate on the counter suddenly shatters.

Nate throws up a shield as shards of glass and food go flying across the room. Aliya ducks and avoids everything but some egg yolk.

“I hate you!” Hope screams, and yanks the record off the player before she runs upstairs.

“Shit.” Nate drops the shield and uses his telekinesis to pick up the mess.

“What the hell are you doing? Save that for the TO,” Aliya says, concern tightening her features.

It makes him miss Vanessa, not that he would admit it. “This is small,” he reassures her. “I’ve got it.”

“Thanks.” She pushes her hair back from her face, watching him curiously.

“I’ll go talk to Hope. You know she didn’t mean it.”

“I know,” she says quietly.

The wave of regret as he looks at her almost drives him to his knees. He can remember thinking he wanted to die old next to this woman, and look at them now. So much love and hope and passion turned to nothing. Nate shakes his head. “I wish we could have saved this,” he sighs.

Aliya blinks. Then she turns away. “Me too.”

What else is there to say? Nate turns too and climbs the stairs.

Hope’s curled up in her bed, hiding under blankets and looking small and furious. “Why?” she demands as soon as he opens the door. “Why doesn’t she want us?”

“She does.” Nate sits down, perching uncomfortably on the edge of her mattress. It’s not meant for someone as heavy as him, so he’s got to keep most of his weight on his feet. “But she believes in the cause. She believes in us.”

Hope turns her red face up to him. “You’re mad at her too.”

“Shit.” He runs a hand over his face. “She loves you, Hope. Enough to let you go so you can have a better life.”

“Why does agreeing never to see someone again mean you love them more?” asks Hope in a small voice. “I thought if you loved someone you wanna see them all the time.”

“That’s one way to love,” he concedes, thinking of Russell and his obsessive need to have Wade around. “But there are other ways too. Wanting someone to be happy, even if they can’t be with you, even if it’ll make you sad, that’s powerful, isn’t it?”

She gets quiet, retreating into her blanket until she looks like one of those chimichangas Wade loves so much. “I guess,” she mutters.

“That’s how your mom loves you.” He nudges the blanket off her head and ruffles her hair. It makes her scrunch up her nose.

“But I want the other way.” She looks down.

He takes a deep breath. “I know. I wanted her to love me a different way too. But she’s gotta do what’s right for her, and we’ve gotta do what’s right for us.”

“Why can’t we do what’s right together?”

“She can’t leave the sisterhood while there’s so much to do.” He touches her cheek. “I wish there was a way to make this easier.”

“What’s it like in the past?” Hope whispers.

Nate looks at her. “People are soft,” he tells her. “They take things for granted that we know to appreciate, like fresh food and hot water. They don’t vote even though their governments are blatantly corrupt. They have more stuff than they know what to do with and they still make themselves miserable over the stupidest shit. And it’s beautiful anyway.”

She stares up at him. “You like it there?”

“I love it there,” he says honestly, because that’s where Wade and Vanessa are, and he can still feel Wade’s mouth under his, and the softness of Vanessa’s hair on his chest.

Leaving the way he did might not have been prudent, but he wants his life to begin. He’s been lonely for so long, and the taste of freedom and family had been enough to send him careening punch-drunk and giddy off into space. He wants to settle Hope into a room in the house he’s gonna rebuild with Vanessa, and watch her discover the world.

Hope shuffles a little way out of her blanket chimichanga. “You think I’ll like it there too?”

“I can tell you the people I know there will love you.” If they can find it in their hearts to love Russell, who’s all simmering rage and questionable taste, they’re going to adore Hope. “Want me to tell you about them?”

“Okay.” She offers him the corner of her blanket.

He takes it and drapes it over his lap. “Their names are Wade and Vanessa. Wade’s a fighter like me. He’s funny. Kind of like your mom. And he’s a good man.”

Hope frowns. “You know he’s good?”

“Yeah. He met this kid who was a mutant like us. People hadn’t been good to him, and Wade saw past his anger to realize he’s actually an okay kid.” He trails off, remembering. “Wade was the only one who saw that.”

“Does that kid live with him now?” Hope’s curious, leaning forward a little to peer at him eagerly. She’s never met other mutant children, after all.

The thought of Hope and Russell together still makes him twitch, but he nods. “Yeah.”

“That’s good.” Hope nods. “Kids need homes.”

Nate can’t disagree. “And Vanessa, that’s his fiancée. She’s—”

“What’s a fiancée?” Hope interrupts.

“It means she’s the person he’s going to marry,” says Nate. He dimly wonders what their wedding will mean for him, but it’s not a huge concern. It’s not like he’s divorcing Aliya, after all. Their relationship is fucking bizarre and he’s kind of okay with that.

“Oh.”

“I think you’ll like her,” Nate says. “She’s funny like Wade, and she’s nice.”

Hope narrows her eyes. And she’s pretty?

Absurdly, he feels like a kid who got caught stealing food, and he can feel his face get hot. “Yeah,” he says gruffly. “She’s beautiful.”

“You’re not divorcing Mommy just because of the temple, are you? It’s because you’re in love with someone else now, isn’t it?” Her tone is accusing.

“Goddammit,” he grumbles. “You know the rule about digging around in my head.” He tightens his shields, because there is some shit his seven-year-old absolutely does not need to know.

“You can’t fall in love with two people,” she tells him primly. “That’s not how it works.”

“Oh yeah?” He raises his eyebrows, trying not to smile.

Hope frowns, perturbed by the thought that she might be wrong about something. She hates that, just like he always did. “I mean, how would that work? Someone would always feel left out.”

He shrugs, still smothering a grin. “What if all three people are equally in love with each other? Still think someone would get left out?”

“I don’t know.” She takes back the corner of the blanket she’d gifted him. “It’s weird.”

“Can’t deny that.”

“Wade’s a boy. Why’d you fall in love with a boy? Last time you were home you told me boys were trash.”

“That’s because Soren Habbart broke your hair off when it was frozen,” he says. “Boys can be fine.”

She looks deeply skeptical, but shrugs. “So you’re in love with these people instead of with Mommy.”

Nate swallows. “Yeah.”

Her face darkens and she looks away.

Talk to me, sweetie. He nudges her gently, the way he’s been doing since before she was born. Since the day her consciousness blossomed into awareness, the two of them have been bonded in a way that goes deeper than anything Nate’s ever experienced. He knows it made Aliya feel left out at first, the way he could commune with the baby.

Maybe that’s why she was so drawn to the temple.

He shakes his head. There’s nothing he can do to fix it now, and Hope’s glare is burning into the sheets.

“I thought you were getting divorced because of Mommy,” she says. “Now it’s because you met new people.”

Nate sighs. “You know it can be both, right? Things have been hard between me and your mom for a long time.”

“I know that. But you went and found a new family.” That’s a fierce look she’s giving him.

He supposes he deserves it. “You’re my family. I don’t want to be anywhere that doesn’t have you.”

Hope looks down then. “I don’t hate Mommy,” she whispers.

“She knows that.”

“I should tell her.”

“Yeah.”

They sit in silence for awhile. Nate tries not to think about the life he’s leaving Aliya to, the struggle and the fanaticism and the loneliness until she’s unmade. He offered. He would take her back there if she wanted it. She could be an X-Man, maybe, see for herself that his parents are as flawed and human as he is.

But he can’t choose for her. He loves her too much to force her into a life she would hate, even if he can’t respect or understand her choice.

“When do we have to go?” Hope’s voice cuts through his thoughts.

“Wanna take a couple days?” he asks. “Say goodbye to everyone?” He doesn’t want to leave her with too many regrets.

“That would be nice,” she mumbles.

He reaches out to smooth her hair, but she moves away. Not unkindly; he can sense her mood and she’s not angry, at least not right now. What she is is miserable, and there’s no way he can help that.

For a second he’s tempted to storm back downstairs and beg Aliya himself to come with them. For Hope’s sake, to spare their daughter this pain. But then what? He can’t stand the thought of what she’d say about Wade and Vanessa, and something inside him curls up in horror when he thinks about trying to live his life under Aliya’s scrutiny.

Maybe that is selfish.

“Ready to go back downstairs?” he asks gently.

Hope nods, so they go back down. She flings herself into Aliya’s arms and stays there, letting Aliya stroke her hair and hold her.

Watching that feels indecent, so he goes to the terminal. Better to check things now while he can, see which events to watch for and prevent.

He settles in, scowling and making a list of which people need to disappear. It’s not a short list, and it’s not even close to being complete hours later when Aliya comes to sit next to him.

“She keeps asking me to come,” she murmurs.

Nate glances at her. “You can.”

“I can’t.” She looks down. “I want to,” she admits. “I want to watch her grow up. You have no idea how jealous I am that you get that. But I can’t go. There are battles to fight here, and other children who need me.”

He swallows. “If I succeed,” he begins carefully.

“When.” There’s steel in her voice.

“When,” he allows. “Everything’s gonna be different. You’re gonna be different.”

She smiles grimly. “And until things change, I’m needed here. You can’t convince me, Nate. I know what my path is.”

Nate closes his eyes and looks away. “It’s gonna break her heart.”

“I know. She’ll have to be strong.” Aliya forces a smile. “She’ll have you.”

He sighs. “I don’t hate the burden I was born with,” he says after a bit. “I’m prepared for that. I embrace it. What I hated was feeling like there was nowhere for me in that mission. I’m not a vessel for redemption.” He stops. “I’m a man doing his best.”

She lays a hand on his shoulder, and for the first time in a long time he doesn’t want to shrug it off. “We aren’t what we need,” she murmurs. “Not from each other.”

“Probably should have talked about it,” he offers with a lame smile.

“It’s only a slightly awkward topic, after all.” She smiles back wryly.

He covers her hand with his own techno-organic one and squeezes gently. “I hope you find someone. You deserve that.”

“Maybe not an assassin,” she says.

“He’s a good man,” Nate tells her. “He’s the reason you and Hope are still here.”

“You said it got complicated.”

He nods. “The one who murdered you was a kid once. Scared, abused his whole life, wanted to feel powerful for once. Fell in with the wrong people. Thanks to Wade he found some good people. Ones who turned him off that path.”

“Saving a soul is no small thing,” she agrees. “Wade is a terrible name.”

He turns in his chair to give her a look.

“Oh, shut up.”

—

The days drag; he’s glad he agreed to them, for Hope’s sake. It’s not easy, asking her to cut ties with everyone she’s grown up with. She even gives Soren Habbart her pressed flower bookmark, a sign of eternal friendship among seven-year-olds.

Nate doesn’t like the look of that kid, so maybe it’s best that he’s taking her out of here before puberty hits.

He spends his time doing research. Context is vital if he’s going to succeed, and there are so many facets to this mission that he can’t afford to overlook.

His kill list is growing, as is his restlessness. Now that he’s put his mind to it, he wants to get started. The irony isn’t lost on him. Or on Aliya, but she’s more graceful about it than he probably deserves. Their family dinners are happier and more engaged now than they have been in years. Aliya jokes that they should have gotten divorced ages ago.

He sleeps downstairs on the couch, between them and the door, and finds he doesn’t picture Russell coming through it. For weeks that was all he could see when he closed his eyes, those glowing hands flaring ominously before his world collapsed.

Now when he thinks about Russell he sees a desperate kid with more guts than sense, and there’s something almost fond in the memory of his tear-stained face as he knelt next to Wade and chose not to become a murderer. Vanessa would probably say it’s a good sign.

The urge to check on them is one he’s been fighting for awhile now. Wade would never forgive him if he didn’t look, but he’s not sure he can live with himself if he looks and finds something he can’t fix.

He finally cracks on the last day. Hope’s been acting remarkably normal, but he’s not counting on that to last. So while he can, he enters Vanessa’s name into the database.

Carlylse, Vanessa Geraldine. The middle name makes him smile a little as he scrolls through her information. Birth date, marriage to one Wade Winston Wilson—and fuck both of them for making fun of his name when Wade’s walking around with that mess—child, one. Born 2019.

His brain screeches to a halt.

To be born in 2019 that baby would have to be conceived not long after he left. Which means Vanessa’s going to be pregnant very soon. Something happens with his chest when he thinks about her full of life, waddling and imperious with that smile she gets. He likes it.

Aliya had a difficult pregnancy with Hope, but overall Nate had loved it. He’d doted on her, rubbing her feet, spooning her at night and sliding his hands over her belly so he could feel the baby moving. It felt sacred, to be near so much potential.

And she’d been horny as hell all through her second trimester, which hadn’t hurt things. He thinks that might have been the last good sex they ever had.

Nate tears his mind away from thoughts of slow, dirty pregnant sex and looks over the rest of Vanessa’s information. Her date of death pains him, but it means she’ll die old, and that’s more than she would have gotten. He pushes that away and notices something else further down the list.

Mutant abilities: shapeshifting. Code name: Copycat.

He leans back in his chair, stunned. How the hell does something like that manifest so late in life? The information is scant, probably because she’s got no team affiliations. That’s a relief, anyway. Nate has no doubt Vanessa can hold her own, but she’s not a fighter.

Nate hesitates, then quickly scans the child. A daughter, born 2019 and with no death date that he can see. She’s still alive somewhere, and her life’s gonna get a whole lot better if Nate has anything to do with it. He sees her listed as a mutant and shakes his head. Christ. Three mutant kids in one house. They’re gonna be a zoo.

He’s looking forward to it.

Hope and Aliya have been upstairs packing for a good long time; Nate isn’t sure what they’re doing, but he suspects it’s less task-oriented than Aliya would like to pretend. He takes one last look at his future—stepchild? That seems presumptuous, they can work that out later—and stands up to go collect her.

The sun’s getting low, now. And if he doesn’t keep to the deadline it’ll be all too easy to let Hope keep wheedling more time out of him. She’s too young to understand that it’s never enough time, no matter how much you give yourself. You’re never ready for things like this.

He shoulders his bag of equipment with his techno-organic hand; it’s heavy, since he’d come so poorly prepared to stay last time. The stairs feel like climbing a mountain as he takes them slowly, wishing he could give Hope all the time she wants. But he can’t, and her voice stops when he reaches the top.

“Mommy...” He can hear her plaintive whine through the open doorway. They’re in her room, and when he appears in the door she casts him a frightened look. “Mommy, I changed my mind, I wanna stay.”

Aliya looks gutted, but she rallies. “Sweetheart, that’s the fear talking. I know it’s scary, I know.” She kneels down and hugs her tightly. “I will always be with you, my beautiful daughter. Every time you remember me in your heart, you keep me with you. And I’ll be right here, loving you for the rest of my life.”

Hope holds onto her so tightly her little fingers go white. “Come with us. Please come with us!”

Aliya turns her face into Hope’s hair. “You belong with your dad. That’s where you’ll be happiest.”

“I’ll be happy with you! We can all be happy! You don’t have to stay here just because you and Daddy aren’t in love anymore!” Hope pulls away frantically and looks up at Aliya. “Daddy fell in love with people in the past, you could too! We can all still be a family!”

Nate wants to cry.

“Hope Summers, listen to me.” Aliya takes hold of Hope’s chin gently. “Time and distance? Those things can’t unmake a family. I will always be your mother and I will always love you. And you will always love me. And I will miss you forever but there’s no future for you here. There is for me.”

“But what about me?” whispers Hope.

“I’m doing this for you, even if it doesn’t feel like it now. I want you to have the best, and the best is back there, with your dad.” Aliya forces a smile and hugs her again. “You can cry, baby. It’s sad and you can cry.”

Hope lets out a sob that shakes her whole body, leaning into Aliya with a muffled scream. Aliya holds her, rocking her back and forth like when she was little. Her breathing is even, but Nate can see a few tears streak down her face.

His eye stings; the artificial one can’t cry, but dammit if he hasn’t got something in his natural eye. He wipes at his face and his fingers come away wet.

He could never stand to see his girl suffer.

Aliya looks over Hope’s shoulder at him, and something in her face hardens. She takes a deep breath and squeezes Hope one last time before she pries her off. “I’m gonna go to the temple, my darling.”

“No!” Hope grabs at her. “Don’t go!”

Aliya swallows. “Be strong. Be good. Remember what I’ve told you, and listen to your dad.” She pushes to her feet. “Nate, take care of our girl.”

“Always.” His voice breaks. He kisses her cheek when she comes to hug him goodbye, and closes his eyes, remembering her smell, and the feel of her in his arms. Their marriage might have gone bad, but she’s still the mother of his child, and the woman who taught him three different sex positions, and the only one who will ever know any of their inside jokes. “I’ll miss you,” he tells her, and finds he means it. “Jenskot.”

She snorts. “I believe in you.”

“Mommy! Don’t!” Hope lunges at Aliya, but Nate catches her around the waist. He can’t let Aliya be the hardass here.

“Hey.” He bundles her into a tight hug as she fights him, trying to get free. “Hey, sweetie.”

“I love you, Hope. I always will.” Aliya’s voice catches. “I love you,” she says again, and then flees down the stairs.

All the fight goes out of Hope as soon as the door shuts, and she sags against Nate’s shoulder with a sniffle and a final, surprisingly hard, punch to his chest.

He sits down on the floor with her, cheek pressed tightly against her hair, and waits for her to stop crying. Aliya won’t rush them; she’s not coming back tonight. Nate can sit with her like this until the tears stop.

“I want Mommy,” she whispers.

“I know.”

“I hate you.”

“Quit saying that.”

“I do.”

“No you don’t.” Nate rubs her back. His goggles are digging in behind his ear and he suddenly wants to just go. “You ready?” he asks after she’s stopped shaking.

Hope wipes her nose. “I guess.”

He pushes to his feet and takes her hand. “Then let’s go. Hold on.” And he pushes the button.

Chapter Text

Nate’s giddy with relief as Wade and Vanessa’s kitchen appears around him, and he pulls off his goggles to grin into their astonished faces. “Come with me if you want to live,” he quips, hoping to get a laugh.

What he gets is a flaky pastry to the face and Vanessa screaming. Wade has to grab her as she lunges for the latte to chuck at him.

Belatedly, he remembers their conversation about her fear of being left behind. Shit.

“Ness! Ness! Baby, look!” Wade snaps, and Vanessa sags in his arms as soon as she sees Hope.

Hope, who’s hiding behind him with eyes like saucers, staring at the hysterical strangers he’s brought her to live with.

It’s possible he didn’t think this through.

“You dramatic shitstick,” Vanessa growls. “You need to tell people when you’re just leaving for a few minutes!”

Oh, she’s furious with him. And so is Wade, for all the maelstrom of his head makes him impossible to read with any reliability. But Wade’s pissed on Vanessa’s behalf, and Nate can already see him softening as he peers at Hope.

Vanessa visibly rallies, squaring her shoulders and smiling at Hope. “Hi, you must be Hope. I’m Vanessa, and I’m usually not psycho.”

Hope keeps staring. You told me she was nice, she thinks accusingly. She’s mean!

“She’s not,” Nate says, resting a hand on the back of Hope’s head as she gives him a dubious look. “I was an ass.”

“You are so freaking cute!” Wade gushes, leaning down to get a better look at her. “My name’s Wade. Sorry about my face, it’s a lesson not to stick forks in the toaster.”

“Jesus.” That’s not going to endear him to her at all.

Hope retreats all the way behind Nate, and the smile slides off Wade’s face.

“Hey.” Nate nudges her back out again. “These are people I trust.” I know he’s a lot at first.

He’s weird and he smells funny and his head makes my head hurt!

He does not— Nate pauses and sniffs. Yeah, okay, Wade does smell a little rank. He frowns at her. That’s rude.

Why is he thinking about naked clowns and unicorns?

Because he’s just like that.

It’s weird!

So stay out of his head.

But how am I supposed to know if he’s as good as you said?

You trust me or not?

Hope stares at him, and then steps out to introduce herself to Wade and Vanessa. She’s scrupulously polite, the way her mother raised her to be with strangers. She’s mad at you. I’ve never seen anyone so mad they throw food.

You exploded a plate the other day, he points out.

She scowls at him, but jumps when Russell comes into the kitchen and blurts, “now what the fuck did I miss?”

Hope’s eyes light up. He’s a mutant!

“Maybe less saying fuck in front of the kid, Russell.” Vanessa sighs. “This is Cable’s daughter Hope.”

“Why don’t they call you by your name if you trust them?” Hope asks suspiciously.

Wade’s already trying again. “Because if your name was Nathan, you would change it to something else too.”

Russell starts laughing. “Your name is Nathan?”

Oh, fuck that. “You chose the name Firefist!”

Wade snickers. “I still can’t say it without laughing.”

Nate levels him with a look. “Wade Winston Wilson,” he says slowly, and Russell loses it at the indignant surprise on Wade’s face.

“You pulled that out of my brain!”

“No, I stole your credit card.” Nate smirks. “You don’t have a leg to stand on here. Not even a toddler one.”

Wade grins.

Vanessa sighs and looks at Hope. “Did you eat? We were about to make breakfast since I threw a pastry at your dad.”

Hope picks it up off the floor and brushes it off. “It’s still fine.” She offers it back to Vanessa, who awkwardly takes it.

“Thanks.” She sets it on the counter.

Nate watches her turn away to snap at Russell and thinks, I’m sorry.

Vanessa refuses to look at him, and he’s left feeling like an insensitive idiot. Which he is, shit. Why didn’t he think about what it would look like to her, after Wade pulled the same move and left her alone for over a year? Of course she’s going to be angry.

He has to give her credit, though. This is the first time he’s ever had anyone give him devil eyes while whisking eggs. It’s genuinely intimidating.

Nate watches Hope and Russell while Vanessa cooks; her fascination with him is adorable, even if he’s clearly terrified of her and trying to play it cool. A quick surface scan of his thoughts reveals a fair bit of guilt, relief, and a standard stray thought about breasts.

“Don’t suppose you left us any unbroken plates, did you, Nate?” Vanessa asks in a sweet voice that promises terrible things.

He gulps. “Uh, let me look.” In the insanity of the last couple days, he’d almost forgotten the absolute tantrum he threw in their living room. The place is still a disaster; he feels terrible about it. He cleaned it up, of course, but things will need to be replaced, and he doesn’t have any money to help with that.

Shit. He’s a goddamn freeloader.

The only plates he can find that he didn’t smash are the ugly ones with the weird events on them. “We have four plates,” he tells Vanessa meekly; she takes them without a word to him.

“My Golden Girls glasses!” Wade gasps, and runs to the cupboard to check on them. Nate feels something relax in his gut when Wade finds them safe. “Thank god. I had to kill the other guy who was bidding on these before we went up to a thousand dollars!”

“You killed someone for that?” Hope asks. I thought you said he was good.

Wade sighs. “No, I killed him because he was selling little boys to people who wanted to do really gross things to them. But he was also trying to outbid me on the Golden Girls.”

“What kind of gross—?” Hope starts to ask, but there’s no way in hell Nate’s going there today.

He shoves a plate with eggs at her. “There’s some shit you don’t need to know yet.”

She gives him a resentful look, cheeks bulging.

“Fucking pedophiles,” Russell mutters.

“They’re the worst,” Wade agrees.

Nate isn’t sure what his face is doing. There goes his plan to maintain some of his daughter’s innocence. He sighs. “I don’t know what I expected.”

“What’s a pedophile?” Hope asks eagerly.

“It’s someone who’s into little kids instead of other adults,” says Vanessa. “They’re pretty gross.”

Hope wrinkles her nose. “Ew.”

“Hard agree.” Wade puts some jam on a piece of toast. He’s using a cream cheese spreader, one of the sharp ones he keeps around that Nate knows better than to ask about.

He likes the sight of Hope sitting at the counter. It looks right, like she was always meant to be here with them. Nate takes a moment to feel the automatic pang of guilt over Aliya, and it slides off him. He chose, she chose. This is how things are.

Vanessa’s voice breaks him out of his reverie. “We were just at IKEA,” she mutters bitterly. “Okay, I’m gonna take inventory of all the stuff that we lost when Hurricane Nate made landfall last night, and while I’m out replacing everything, you boys are gonna put the furniture back and get the air mattress set up for Hope in whichever open bedroom she wants for herself. Good? Great.”

Nate winces, watching her leave. “How bad did I fuck things up?” he asks Wade.

“Well, she was crying when I came in and you were still gone,” says Russell brightly. “So I’d say you’re in the fucking doghouse.”

Wade makes a face but doesn’t disagree.

“Shit.” Nate rubs a hand over his face. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“It sure did seem like that was so long and thanks for all the fish,” says Wade, and even if the words don’t make sense, the too-glib way he says it tells Nate everything.

Tempting to go back and do it over, but that would mean tearing himself—and Hope—away from Aliya again. Ending his marriage isn’t something he can face twice, not even for Vanessa. Nate sighs. “I thought you knew better than that.”

Wade casually throws the cream cheese spreader; it lands perfectly in the center of the cupboard door, shaking slightly and embedded in the wood. “Nope.”

Nate wants to kiss him, wants to push up his t-shirt and map the texture of his skin. Wants to reassure him with his mouth and his hands that he wants Wade, but there’s a wariness to his body language that warns Nate off. It’s been there since his breakdown, he realizes. Since Vanessa almost got hurt.

That stings. Wade might not be angry with him, but being afraid of what he’ll do isn’t better.

“What fish?” Hope asks, frowning.

“It’s from a book,” Wade tells her absently as he works the blade out of the cupboard.

“She’s gonna be pissed about you fucking up the kitchen,” Russell points out.

“That’s called antiquing, Russell.” Wade wipes the blade off and puts the spreader back in the drawer.

“Wash that,” Nate tells him.

Wade rolls his eyes but gets it back out of the drawer and puts it in the dishwasher instead.

Nate shakes his head fondly, wondering when he started to like Wade’s particular brand of chaos. It beats the hell out of the chaos he left in his wake out in the living room.

Most of it’s clean, he took care of that before he left, but the clutter being gone just magnifies the damage done. He starts to move the furniture back to its proper place; it’s the least he can do to make amends.

What’s Hurricane Nate, Daddy? What did you do?

He sighs as he positions the couch against the wall. Got scared, he answers gruffly. Overreacted. That’s why I couldn’t stay here without you anymore.

What were you scared of? Do you need a hug?

He loves his nosy daughter. Nate bites back a smile. I’m fine now, sweetie.

“This might take awhile. We’re looking at a category five at least, and FEMA’s treating us like Puerto Rico.” That’s Wade’s voice; Nate cranes his neck to see Wade talking to Hope. “I’ve got crayons. Wanna color?”

Hope wavers, torn between her revulsion toward Wade and her love of coloring. Nate found her a box of crayons when she was four, made it a birthday gift, and he can still remember her crying when she accidentally broke the pink one. Finally she says, “I like coloring,” in a voice that’s clearly aiming for cool and collected. He can see her practically vibrating from here.

“Cool. Lemme get my crayons. I like drawing unicorns with guns, how about you?”

Nate snorts loudly enough to get her attention and hangs up the big canvases that Vanessa likes so much. He suspects that if he’d ripped them on top of all the other shit he’s pulled, she’d be wearing his balls as earrings right now.

Russell joins him after a little while, working silently next to him on a list of things Nate destroyed. He’s a mess of remorse; Nate doesn’t even need telepathy to tell that. The kid won’t make eye contact, but keeps shooting him looks when Nate’s working. “Your daughter seems cool,” he mumbles.

Nate doesn’t think he was ever that awkward at fourteen. Still, he appreciates the gesture. “Thanks. She’s having a rough day.”

“Why?”

“Lost her mom,” Nate grunts. He’s still waiting for the fallout from that. If he knows his daughter it’s only a matter of time.

One crisis at a time.

“Oh. But I thought they’re both safe!” Russell looks at him then, round face tight with worry.

“They are. But she stayed back there, so it’s not like we’re gonna see her again.”

“Shit,” Russell mutters. “That sucks.”

Bit of an understatement, but Nate will take it. The kid’s not so bad, he supposes. He just nods.

Russell continues, “too bad you broke the tv. We could watch movies, take her mind off it. When shit went down I always liked having something to keep me busy.”

Nate looks over at the dining room where Hope is going apeshit with the neon crayons. “She’s okay for now.”

Russell nods glumly, so Nate leaves him to it and goes to find Wade. There are things he needs to say.

There are some pieces of printer paper scattered over the table with pictures of rainbow horses and explosions that Nate knows damn well Hope didn’t draw. He touches Hope’s shoulder. “Where’s Wade?”

“I told him he smelled like pee, so he went upstairs.” Hope doesn’t look up from her drawing.

“Hope!” Nate glares at her. “I raised you better than that.”

“You said I’m not supposed to say anything if it’s something people can’t help! He can take a shower!”

“Oh my god. That’s rude.” Nate closes his eyes. “You’re gonna apologize when he comes back down.”

“But it was true!”

“Hope Summers.” She goes quiet at the tone of his voice. “He’s sharing his home and his food and his crayons. You know the rules of hospitality.”

That gets her to lower her head in shame. “Sorry Daddy,” she mutters.

“Don’t apologize to me. Apologize to Wade when you see him.” Nate gives her a last stern look and leaves her to her—now subdued—coloring.

He hears the shower going upstairs, so he slips into the master bedroom. “Wade?”

“Just a minute, pookie. I’ll be fresh as a daisy soon.”

Nate winces. “I can’t fucking believe her.” He slides down the wall to sit in the bathroom doorway.

“Eh, kids just tell it like it is.” Wade sounds bitter.

“You do smell nice fresh out of the shower,” Nate says softly, picturing water running over Wade’s mottled skin.

“You sweet talker. Who would have guessed?” The water shuts off.

Nate grabs the towel off the toilet and holds it out as the shower door opens.

Wade pauses, something startled and uncomfortable flashing across his face before he takes it. “Thanks.” He wraps it around his waist.

“You don’t have to cover that up,” says Nate, looking up at him. Wade might not be beautiful, but he’s interesting to look at, and Nate can see the remnants of how gorgeous he used to be.

Wade swallows and grins awkwardly. “Trying to seduce me before noon, you animal. Think of the children!”

“I’m not trying to start anything.” Nate gets to his feet. “I just like how you look.”

“And now I know you’re a liar, but that’s sweet.” Wade steps around him.

“I’m sorry about leaving like I did,” Nate says to his back.

Wade stops. “You ever hurt Vanessa like that again, don’t come back. I’ll have to kill you,” he finally says.

Nate believes him.

He would promise that it’ll never happen again, but words don’t mean shit to people like Wade and Vanessa. So all he says is, “I understand.”

Wade nods and reaches for a pair of sweats. He opts for a long-sleeved t-shirt, and that hurts, because Nate knows it’s for Hope’s comfort.

“Don’t,” he says a little desperately, reaching out for the shirt before Wade can put it on. “You don’t have to do that here.”

Wade stares at him, and the silence is unnerving. The times when Wade’s totally serious are few and far between, and all of them have been pretty fucking dire.

Nate’s fucked this up so much worse than he thought. He swallows. “She’ll get used to you. It’s my fault, I didn’t—”

“Didn’t warn her that I’m fucking hideous?” There’s some heat in Wade’s voice now. “Nice.”

Nate winces. “I’m digging myself in deeper here. That’s not what I want.”

Wade’s eyebrows—or what’s left of them—shoot up.

“I left like I did because I wanted to get back here as soon as I could. Because this is my life now, with you and her. I wanted to start it. I got eager and I didn’t think.” He hopes to god those are the right words.

Wade blinks. “So...what you’re saying is that when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible?”

“Yes.” Nate’s so glad he understands.

Then Wade bursts out laughing and pokes him on the cheek. “Damn, you’re lucky you’re so cute.”

Nate isn’t sure what just happened, but Wade’s humming to himself as he puts on a regular short-sleeved t-shirt, leaving Nate clutching the one he’d been about to choose.

“Just make sure you explain that to Vanessa,” Wade says brightly. “Normally it’s better if you say things like that at midnight on New Year’s, but I think she’s had enough dramatic gestures from you.”

Nate winces. “I’ll make it up to her.”

Wade sighs. “It’ll blow over,” he tells Nate quietly. “She’s only like this because I fucked off and got myself turned into this.”

“I knew that.” Nate swallows and looks at Wade. “I knew better. I should have.”

“God, how do you stand being so earnest all the time? Doesn’t it give you the runs or something?” Wade slips around him and heads back into the hallway.

Nate rolls his eyes and follows him down. Hope’s shamefaced apology darkens Wade’s mood again for a minute, but they move past it after bonding over their shared love of metallic crayons. They spend some time reorganizing the kitchen stuff that survived, Wade and Russell bickering good-naturedly, until Vanessa comes home.

He can see she’s still upset; there’s a tension around her eyes that he wants to smooth away. But she forces a smile and sets her bags down. “Hope? I got you something. Not sure if it’ll fit, but I kept the receipt.”

Hope puts down her red crayon. “Why did you get me a present?”

Vanessa says, “because I wanted to do something nice for you. Make you feel welcome here.”

She’s trying so hard, even as pissed as she is. Vanessa’s still trying to be good to his daughter, and it makes something swell in Nate’s chest.

Hope tilts her head. “Oh. Thank you.”

“Wanna see if it fits?” Vanessa pulls the jacket out of the bag.

Hope slides off the chair and takes the jacket, holding it up in front of her for inspection. “Clothes look funny here.”

“Yeah, I bet the fashion industry took a dive, given what your dad’s told me about the future.”

Hope frowns. “The pockets are tiny. And it doesn’t have any pouches.”

“You mean like your dad wears? We call those fanny packs and they come in really cool colors. Bet we can find some online.”

“Fanny packs?” Hope eyes her suspiciously. “What kind of colors?”

“I’ve got two words for you: rainbow unicorn.”

Hope stiffens. “Yes,” she says avidly.

“Goddammit.” Now they’re gonna get her doing the fanny pack thing.

“We can all get matching fanny packs!” Wade grins like that’s a good idea instead of a clusterfuck.

“No,” says Nate automatically; Russell and Hope echo him.

“I’ll get us his and hers fanny packs,” Vanessa says loyally.

Wade grunts. “Better be Lisa Frank.”

Someday Nate hopes he understands half the shit that comes out of Wade’s mouth.

He keeps an eye on Vanessa after they set up her laptop with a Disney movie. It’s Frozen, which makes him cringe a little, but Hope doesn’t seem to mind. The smell of Wade’s tobacco and marijuana cigarettes is pleasant as he sets up his station to roll them. Nate can remember sitting with him on the roof of the apartment building while he smoked, in a sweatshirt with the hood up or the mask pushed up just enough to free his mouth. Remembers watching smoke curl between his lips and wanting to kiss him, and hating himself for the urge.

“What is that stuff?” Hope demands, wrinkling her nose.

“These?” Wade holds one up. “Mix of weed and tobacco. Works wonders for pain management.”

“You’re in pain?” Hope eyes him warily.

“All the fucking time, sweetie. Side effect of stage four cancer.” He gives her a crooked smile.

“I’ve met lots of people with cancer. They didn’t look like you.”

Wade’s smile is strained. “Probably because they didn’t get tortured until their latent mutations activated. They got to die like normal people.”

Hope stares at him in horror. “Someone did that to you?”

“Fuckin’ A, kiddo.” Wade looks back at the laptop screen where some girl is running around singing about building a snowman. “Same song. Nobody fucking realizes it.”

“Watch your movie, Hope,” Nate says.

She doesn’t want me here, Hope thinks.

Nate gapes at her stupidly, then glances over to see Vanessa kiss Wade’s forehead and slip away. That’s not true.

Yes it is. She keeps thinking about how hard it’s gonna be with me here and how she’s never gonna have a baby now.

Vanessa’s a planner. She thinks about the hard things so she’s ready for them when they come.

Hope glares at him. I’m not stupid. She bought me that jacket because she feels bad she doesn’t want me.

No, you’re not stupid. That doesn’t mean you don’t jump to the wrong conclusions sometimes. It’s been a hard day and when people are stressed they think things they don’t always mean. Especially when they aren’t used to telepaths.

Wade finishes rolling the week’s worth of cigarettes and puts them neatly into his case sometime around when “Let It Go” starts.

Somehow actually watching Frozen makes him like it less than before. And he never liked it all that much to begin with.

Wade squeezes Nate’s shoulder and ambles upstairs. Nate watches him go, half wishing he could follow him up there, but he doesn’t say anything.

Russell eyes him. “I don’t wanna watch Singin’ in the Rain. These musicals suck.”

“Shh!” Hope kicks him. “Stop talking through my movie.”

“Did you just fucking kick me? What the hell?” Russell looks at Nate for support, which is a mindfuck Nate was not prepared for.

“You don’t kick people,” he tells Hope severely. “And you’ve put up with worse than one movie you hate, so shut up for a little and we can talk about the next one. Jesus.” He’s never had to deal much with kids that weren’t his. Aren’t teenagers supposed to be self-sufficient?

He knows damn well why Wade and Vanessa went upstairs. He knows they’re fucking up there, and part of him burns with jealousy that they left him down here. That’s not fair, he knows it, but it feels like a rejection when he’s especially tender.

He gets up to grab a beer from the fridge. It’s too early to be drinking, but Nate’s pulled a double, divorced his wife, torn his daughter away from everything she loves, and walked back into a clusterfuck of his own making. A beer is the very fucking least he deserves.

He wants them. He’s wanted Wade since the beginning, and he’s over beating himself up about it. The attraction to Vanessa is newer—or at least admitting to it is newer—but it’s just as powerful. Nate sips his beer morosely, keeping an ear out for squabbles over the tv. He’s got just enough decency not to listen in on them upstairs, but the urge is stronger than he expected. It’s not voyeuristic, exactly. He just wants to feel part of it.

But if this is gonna work, then it’s only fair that they all have their own independent relationships. Wade and Vanessa were together for a long time before he came along, and they’ve gone through hell together, and he can’t barge in and take that away from them. They made a space for him in their lives, and now he’s got to figure out how to give them space for themselves.

It’s harder than he expected.

He’s aware of them, even if he’s not actively listening. He can feel it when Wade comes and he takes another sip of his beer to cover the shiver it sends through him. Usually he can feel Vanessa come, but he doesn’t, and that seems odd. She isn’t the type to walk away without getting what she wants.

Unless she wanted something else.

Nate stares blankly across the kitchen, beer dangling from his fingers. The baby. She’s trying to get pregnant, and she might well succeed based on the dates Nate knows of. Shit.

He puts his beer down before he drops it and adds to the mess, trying to get a handle on how he feels about this. Excited, and nervous, and strangely disappointed that he isn’t part of it. He’d love to hold her while Wade is inside her, the three of them sharing the experience of building their family. But they want this for themselves, and that’s their right.

He takes a deep breath. A baby. They’re having a baby before too long. That’s happy news. And he is happy, but there’s a part of him that’s just now starting to realize how fucking reckless this is.

Adopting Russell was the right move; even if Nate doesn’t love the kid, he knows that Russell and Wade share something important. There was no way Russell would ever trust another adult if Wade didn’t keep him, and it suits Nate to have Russell in a stable environment. It suits Nate to have Hope here too, where he can see and touch her and know she’s safe. And it suits Wade and Vanessa to have their baby now, so the madness happens all at once rather than starting fresh once the kids have settled.

There’s a logic to that, and Nate’s annoyed that he didn’t think of it. Then again, not thinking is his biggest problem lately. He should work on being more like Vanessa.

Breathing is a good start. Breathing gives him a minute to organize his thoughts. If they’re having a baby, someone is going to have to start working again. Vanessa can’t, not if she’s pregnant; he can’t picture too many men interested in fucking a woman heavy with someone else’s baby, although god knows people are freaks. More than that, he can’t picture her risking exposure to anything while she’s pregnant. And Wade is with Russell all week to make sure the little shit doesn’t burn down the school with everyone inside it.

And Nate has Hope, who’s going to need him as the only constant in her life. He’s not sure how he can leave her to work when there’s nothing familiar to ground her in this time.

Getting this family to work as a unit is going to take some time. Nate narrows his eyes thoughtfully. He’s good at building teams (present circumstances excluded), so this should be similar. And what do teams need? A common goal and group cohesion.

Common goals can be broken down into smaller goals. Hope knows about team building. He can explain work to her, and why he needs to leave to get resources. Hell, maybe he can even ask Weasel for jobs. There have to be some local ones.

This is something he should discuss with Wade and Vanessa. Maybe it’ll help him make amends, and Christ knows he can use all the help he can get there.

He’s still turning it over in his head after Wade and Russell pull away that evening. Vanessa has taken Hope into the living room with her collection of glitter nail polish, which he hopes will allay some of Hope’s fears about being wanted. They put Singin’ in the Rain on, since Russell didn’t want to watch it earlier.

“So how long have you and my daddy been in love?” asks Hope, holding up her hand to inspect her nails. Vanessa’s painted each nail a different glittery color.

Vanessa pauses, bottle of nail polish still in her hand. “Things are still pretty new,” she says tactfully.

“How new?”

Nate winces as Vanessa looks speculatively at Hope and says, “about a week.”

Hope blinks, then turns and gives Nate the most unimpressed stare he can remember receiving since he was a kid. “You really didn’t think this through, did you?” she asks.

Vanessa doesn’t need to laugh that hard.

“I don’t have to take this shit from you,” he says to his asshole daughter, who’s looking pleased with herself.

“You didn’t tell me you only knew them a week,” says Hope. “That’s like Anna wanting to marry Hans after just a day.”

Nate gapes at her. “Look,” he starts, but Vanessa snorts loudly across the coffee table. He huffs. “When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.”

That stops Vanessa laughing. When he looks over, she’s staring at him with her lips parted. A cute little furrow appears between her eyebrows. “You—”

Nate stares at her, willing her to understand.

“Oh my god.” She closes her eyes like she’s in pain. “When Harry Met Sally? Really?”

“What?”

“It’s a movie, dick for brains. Billy Crystal says that to Meg Ryan at a New Year’s party at midnight.” She gives him a look to rival the one Hope served him earlier.

Fucking Wade.

“I didn’t realize that,” he mutters, clearing his throat.

“Oh my god,” she says again, and pushes to her feet. “Hope, you want anything to drink? I’m getting some pineapple juice.”

“Yes, please,” says Hope.

Vanessa goes. She doesn’t ask if Nate wants anything.

She’s still mad at you.

Thanks, I couldn’t tell.

You aren’t gonna break up, are you? Because your record isn’t so good, Daddy.

He scowls at her. “No.”

Vanessa comes back with two glasses. She sets Hope’s down in front of her and sits back with her own. “We can do a second coat on the nails as soon as they dry.”

“Okay.” Hope happily goes back to looking at her hands.

“I never got a chance to properly apologize,” Nate says quietly to Vanessa. “I am sorry.”

Vanessa sips her juice. “I hear you,” she says after a minute, “but I’m not going to have this conversation in front of your daughter.”

She’s gonna dump you, Hope thinks

“I told you to keep out of my head!” he snaps at her. “I don’t need your running commentary on this. She’s not gonna dump me. Jesus.”

Vanessa blinks. “Kiddo, I took Wade’s ass back after he left me for over a year without saying goodbye. And I need your dad to lift heavy things for me, so no, I’m not gonna dump him. People can be pissed at each other without breaking up.”

“Why’d he leave?” asks Hope.

“He didn’t want me to watch him die.” Vanessa’s grip tightens on her glass. “His cancer was really bad and we’d tried everything, so I wanted him to stay at home. I was gonna take care of him. But he snuck off to do this ‘experimental treatment’ and figured he’d come back when he was better. Or he just wouldn’t come back.”

“He said they tortured him to make his mutation activate,” says Hope softly.

“Yep. Next time I saw him it was because the same bastards kidnapped me.” Vanessa’s smile is bitter.

“Are they dead?” Hope asks. “The bad guys. Did Wade kill them?”

“Yeah.” Vanessa looks at her.

“Good.” Hope nods. “So you’re not gonna dump my dad?”

Vanessa sighs. “I already said so, didn’t I?” She eyes Nate. “You’re lucky you’re both so cute.”

That’s almost exactly what Wade said. Nate frowns; cute was never a look he’d gone for.

Later, when Hope has passed out on the couch with sparkly rainbow nails on both hands, Nate watches Vanessa’s face in the glow from the laptop screen. She looks pensive, and Nate isn’t sure if he’s allowed to touch her.

“What you did was so unbelievably shitty,” she finally says. “You knew exactly how bad the idea of you leaving scared me and you did it anyway. Why the hell didn’t you say anything?”

Nate looks at Hope. “I don’t really have an excuse for how I handled it,” he finally says. “I can tell you why, but I don’t know if that would matter.”

“Spare me the self-pity.” She glares at him. “I’m pissed about the way you did it, not that you brought her here.”

“I know that.” Nate sighs and looks away. “I ended things with Aliya.”

“I wondered about that. She was okay with you bringing Hope here?”

Nate’s throat gets tight and he nods.

Vanessa sits up, hooking her arms around her knees and studying his face. “Must’ve been rough,” she says.

“It’s strange. As soon as we agreed it was over things got better.” Nate looks at Hope again. “Best time I’ve had with her in years.”

“Yeah, that can happen once the pressure’s gone.”

When he looks back up, Vanessa’s got a wan smile on her face. “I don’t want to ruin this,” he tells her earnestly. “My marriage went to hell and I don’t want that to happen with us.”

Vanessa shrugs. “Okay. Then I have to be able to trust you.”

“And what do I have to do to make that happen?”

“Give it time. You broke trust pretty early in the game, buddy. That’s not a small fuckup, and I’m not gonna gloss over it. Do you know how short Wade’s leash was when he first came back to me? I couldn’t trust him at all. He needed to communicate with me where he was going and what time I should expect him back. And I know he didn’t always tell the truth about where he’d been, but he kept coming back.” Her eyes are so dark in the dim room. “Follow the rules until I believe in you. That’s how you win back trust.”

Nate swallows. He’ll do anything he has to if it means he doesn’t lose this. “Okay,” he agrees softly.

Vanessa nods like that’s the end of it. “Fine. You should probably put your kiddo to bed. We can go back to IKEA tomorrow to pick out bedroom stuff.”

“Might be overwhelming,” Nate admits. “She’s lived her whole life in a walled settlement of about three thousand people. That much noise and commotion is gonna be more than she’s had to handle.”

“She lives in New York now. We’re gonna have to get her used to it.” Vanessa pushes to her feet. “Put her to bed. I debated for a long time whether to couch your ass, but I decided against it. You can sleep with me as long as you keep your dick to yourself.”

He supposes she’s being generous and nods glumly, scooping Hope into his arms as gently as he can. She doesn’t wake up, just snuffles, and he carries her up the stairs to lay her gently on her air mattress. “Good night, sweetheart,” he whispers, brushing his mind against hers. He gets a flicker of recognition back, and that’s enough to reassure him she’ll be fine.

Vanessa’s wearing pajamas when he gets back to the master—he’d been thinking of it as their bedroom, but that might have been presumptuous—and she gives him a neutral look when he shuts the door.

He shrugs off his shirt and puts it in the hamper while she watches, feeling oddly exposed. Her eyes are burning a hole in his back, but he shoves his pants down too and straightens up, turning back to face her in only his briefs.

She looks him over coolly and then climbs in, pulling the covers around her in a cocoon.

Nate’s not sure what to do with that, so he gets in on his own side, giving her plenty of space. She clicks the lamp off, and then it’s just the two of them in the dark.

The silence is odd. Not strained the way it was so many nights with Aliya, but not the warm comfortable silence he remembers with Vanessa. He wants to reach for her, but he hasn’t earned that yet.

And something about that intrigues him. He has no idea what it’ll take to make her touch him again, but he’s willing to find out. Vanessa oozes sex even when she isn’t trying, confidence in her own desirability shaping the way she walks through the world. She wears her sexuality like armor, and knows how to wield it like a weapon.

She brought him down with it, less than a week ago, and there’s a lot he would do to have it back.

He’s exhausted, but it takes a long time for him to fall asleep.

Chapter Text

Vanessa leaves early the next morning to get them cell phones; Nate refused when they first offered, thinking he could get by without primitive technology, but he’s been proven wrong. Hope seems intrigued by the old-fashioned tech, even if she is just using it to watch cartoons on the laptop.

Nate works out as best he can in the house; he can jog tomorrow when Vanessa’s around to watch Hope. After he’s done, he goes upstairs to shower, absurdly grateful for the unending supply of hot water. He leans against the shower wall and lets it pour over his skin, closing his eyes in bliss. It’s decadent, and he doesn’t feel bad about the way his dick chubs up under the spray of the water.

He wants to fuck Vanessa in here, wants to watch rivulets of water drip down her body while he touches her. Wants, maybe, to pull the showerhead down and hold it over her clit while she writhes on his cock. Wants her hot and slippery and gasping amid the heat and the steam.

Nate bites his lip, reaching down to curl his hand around his cock. He’s hard now, and he teases his thumb under the foreskin before he starts to move. God, he wants her. His hand speeds up as he thinks about it, how soft her skin would be, the way her little grunts and moans would echo off the tile.

His own grunt is lost under the noise of the spray, but he can hear his harsh breathing as he pumps himself steadily. He’s imagining fucking Vanessa without a condom, feeling her tight pussy clenching around him while she braces herself against the wall. He wants to kiss the back of her neck, whisper filthy shit in her ear. Growl at her about how she’s Daddy’s little whore and feel her shake.

He’s so lost in the fantasy that he doesn’t hear Vanessa until a second before the shower door opens. “Nate, I’ve got—oh.”

Nate’s been caught with his dick in his hand a few times in his life, but there’s something about the flat, unamused look Vanessa gives him that makes this one of the most mortifying.

She looks him over clinically and then says, “stop that. We’ve got shit to do.” And she turns and goes back into the bedroom.

Nate gapes after her. “I’ll be out in a second,” he manages.

“Now.” She gives him a stern look. “Turn the water off.”

Nate’s dick twitches in his hand. He slowly lets go of it with a shudder and reaches over to turn the water off.

Vanessa inclines her head toward the towel and he picks it up, stepping out of the shower and reaching up to dry his hair. He can feel her eyes on him, so he keeps his head down as he towels off.

His dick’s still hard.

When he’s dry, he hangs up the towel and finds her still watching him with that cool, disinterested look.

“Get dressed,” she says, and his hopes of a fuck or even a handjob vanish.

He meekly pulls on his briefs and looks at her hopefully. Her lips twitch, but she doesn’t say anything. To distract himself from the horrible feeling that she’s laughing at him, he pulls on his pants and a shirt and follows her downstairs.

Hope’s engrossed in something with brightly colored horses, so he leaves her to it.

“Your phone’s all set up,” Vanessa tells him in the kitchen like she didn’t just order his hand off his dick two minutes ago. “I added your contacts too. Me, Wade, Hope, Russell, Al, Dopinder, Domino, Colossus, and Weasel.”

“Thanks,” he mutters, taking the phone from her. “I was thinking about asking Weasel for work anyway.”

Vanessa’s eyebrows shoot up. “Really.”

“Just local stuff. Small jobs that I can do in one day.” Nate sighs. “Bringing some money in wouldn’t be terrible.”

“No, it wouldn’t,” Vanessa agrees. She narrows her eyes. “I’ll talk to Wade about it.”

So they can decide whether to let him go. Nate’s nostrils flare before he nods. “Sure.”

That gets him the first bright smile he’s had since he came back. “Good. Then I’m gonna go pick out some furniture for Hope and call a truck so we can have her in a real bed tonight.”

“Thank you,” he says. “I mean it. You’ve been...really great. About everything.”

Vanessa smirks. “I am very fucking aware of that.” She pats his cheek before she goes into the living room.

He’s pretty sure he should be offended. Somehow he’s not.

Vanessa spends about an hour showing pictures of furniture to Hope between episodes of something called My Little Pony before things are settled. She makes arrangements, calling the store, checking that things are in stock. Then she calls Dopinder.

“He’s a doll,” she tells Nate. “Probably the only man besides Colossus that I’d trust with my credit card.”

“How do Wade and I fit into that paradigm?”

“Oh, you’re not men. You’re my boytoys.” She grins.

Nate’s not sure how he feels about that.

The cell phone feels odd in his hand. He opens Wade’s contact and stares down at it. In all the time they’ve known each other he’s never reached out like this. And that seems weird, suddenly, so he asks the phone to text and sends Hi, it’s Nate. Vanessa got me a phone, to Wade.

A flood of different colored hearts and a bright green gun come back to him a moment later. Nate squints.

He remembers Wade sending the little pictures before, but he has no idea what the fuck they mean.

Well, the hearts are sort of self-explanatory. And a little sweet, he guesses. He sends back thanks. What are those pictures called?

Omg you’re killing me, Wade texts back with another little picture of a smiling face with hearts for eyes. Of course you don’t know what emojis are. they got rid of fun in the future.

Most of it, yeah, Nate agrees. So where do I get the emojis?

the little smiley face button on your keyboard will open up a whole new world, Nathan.

Nate hadn’t even noticed that button. When he hits it, he has to stop and stare at the dazzling array of pictures available. There’s little faces, hand gestures, food....more than he could ever use.

He doesn’t know how to get rid of it. There are a few awkward moments—he accidentally sends Wade a smirking purple devil—before he gets back to the keyboard without really knowing how.

I expect all my sexts in emoji now is waiting for him when he finally looks again.

how the duck am I supposed to do that? he demands, and notices after he’s pressed send that the phone changed fuck to duck. fuck, sorry. Also you people could solve climate change and instead you put this shit on your phones.

No one makes money off stopping climate change. Emojis on the other hand got a movie with Patrick Stewart

Sometimes he hates this time.

so what are the sexy emojis? he asks, because it’ll amuse Wade and because he’s still a little keyed up from earlier. I should know if I’m gonna be sexting you

Wade sends back some laughing faces and then an eggplant, a peach, and some water emojis with a tongue.

Nate squints at them.

“Daddy, do you need to wear your optic lenses?” Hope asks, passing by him to get some juice out of the fridge.

He scowls at her. “Not yet. How’s your cartoon?”

“I like it! Can I get a cutie mark tattoo?”

Nate understands only part of that question. “Tattoos hurt.”

“How much?” she asks.

“I don’t know. Ask Vanessa, she has a bunch.” He’s still trying to figure out what the vegetables are supposed to mean. If he squints, maybe the peach looks like....

“My butt,” Hope decides. “I can probably handle it if I’m gonna get a real cutie mark on my butt.”

Nate slowly looks up from his phone. “If you decide to get a tattoo on your butt, you had better be an adult and I don’t want to know about it.”

She makes a face at him.

He makes a face back and looks at his phone again. So that’s what the peach is supposed to stand in for. The tongue makes sense, and the eggplant has to be a dick. Nate experimentally sends back an eggplant, a tongue, and a heart.

awww, you’re so sweet, Wade sends back.

Nate figures that means he did it right.

Wade immediately follows up with a peach, a tongue, some water and a fire, and Nate goes hot all over once he deciphers what that means.

God, somehow he’s never pictured it, even as eager as he’s been to touch Wade. But he remembers Wade’s mouth on his cock, that hot, slick tongue working over him, and if he thinks about it on his ass...

He swallows. Guess he’s gonna have to sit here for awhile, because he’s hard again. He texts back yeah. Yeah, that would be good

I bet your asshole’s really sensitive too. Big tough guy like you doesn’t really touch it, does he? Is it all virginal?

what the duck, he sends to cover the way Wade’s words are getting him hot. dammit, fuck.

i bet you’re squirming over there aren’t you? Thinking about how I can eat your tight little ass while you make pretty noises. Do you think you’ll squeal when I wiggle it in?

Nate gulps. His cock’s pressing uncomfortably against the seam of his pants and he wants so badly to touch it. I don’t squeal, he sends back.

Challenge accepted, is Wade’s reply. I bet you’re gonna play with it next time you touch yourself. Just a little pinkie? Does it feel different for you with the metal hand? You should definitely use your metal hand. Little bit of conditioner in the shower and your pinkie will slide in like butter

Nate goes cold, and then hot when he thinks about what Vanessa would do if she caught him at that. Embarrassing enough to get busted with his hand on his dick, but with a finger in his ass it would be a thousand times worse.

Vanessa passes through the kitchen, listening to someone on her phone. She frowns a little and stops in the doorway. “Well, then why does your website have it listed in stock? Can you double check? Yeah, I’ll wait.”

Nate watches her, marveling at the way she ruthlessly ensures that their lives run smoothly. Vanessa wields power more comfortably than Nate ever has; she doesn’t need to be brutal to get her way. She just tells people what she wants and expects them to give it to her. And it usually works.

He can’t help but smile a little. It’ll be good for Hope to grow up around a woman like that.

Vanessa catches his eye and grins, rolling her eyes. “This hold music is terrible. I expected ABBA or at least Ace of Base.”

“I love you.” It slips out before he can help himself.

Vanessa’s eyes widen, but then she turns away abruptly and says, “yes, I’m still here. Okay, if that’s all you’ve got then I’ll take it. Yep. And the mattress too, yes. Thank you so much. I’ll have a truck there by one. Yes, I appreciate it. Okay, bye.” She hangs up the phone and rounds on Nate. “Are you fucking serious?”

That’s not the response he expected, but he probably should have, considering she told him to get fucked the last time he tried to be sincere with her. “Yeah.”

“Jesus Christ,” she mutters, rubbing her forehead.

Nate searches for words. “I know it’s too fast, and you’re still pissed at me,” he tries.

“Yes and yes,” she agrees, leaning her hip on the counter and eyeing him. “You are one of the most emotionally needy men I think I’ve ever known.”

He blinks. That sounds a lot like an insult. “Um.”

Vanessa sighs. “You know, if I were my friend and I was looking at this from the outside, I’d tell myself this is a really bad idea.”

Nate looks up, stricken.

“I’ve known you a month, you split up with your wife like two days ago after we’ve been dating a week, and you brought your daughter into my home without even asking. This looks like a goddamn train wreck, Nate.” She raises her eyebrows.

When she describes it like that, it really does. Still. “It feels right.”

“Yeah,” she agrees softly. “It does.”

He feels something like hope flutter in his chest.

“God help me,” she mumbles, and presses a burning kiss to his forehead before she vanishes into the living room.

That could have gone worse, he thinks, and looks down when his phone beeps. It’s Wade again, and there are more eggplants on his phone. He texts, I told Vanessa I loved her.

A full minute goes by before Wade replies. oh boy. Wanna run me through what you were thinking with that one?

Dammit. I was thinking I realized I loved her, he sends back irritably.

That’s sweet. I knew I loved her two months after we started dating. But I didn’t tell her until eleven months in, because Vanessa’s allergic to feelings. They give her hives and make her want to change her phone number and run away so you can never talk to her again.

Nate wonders what it means that Wade’s grammar suddenly improved. So I messed up again, he sends.

What did she do when you told her?

Went back to talking to the guy from ikea. Nate frowns. Then she called me emotionally needy and kissed me on the forehead like a kid.

Huh, is the only thing Wade has to say to that.

Nate waits, but when he doesn’t get anymore response he sends, she also didn’t think that movie quote was as funny as you did.

Wade’s response comes immediately. You used that ALREADY????? Baby, slow your roll!

You told me to say it!

I didn’t think you were gonna go full Jerry McGuire at her after a day. Back it up, pudding cup. I think that shit is cute. She doesn’t.

Nate stares at the phone. Any advice? he finally asks.

Just hold on loosely and don’t let go. If you cling too tightly, you’re gonna lose control.

That seems like decent advice. After all, no one knows Vanessa like Wade does. thanks.

no problemo, lover boy. Now send me a picture of your dick ;)

Nate sighs.

—

Hope loves her new bed so much that Nate has to remind her fifteen fucking times not to jump on it. After they got it put together with Dopinder’s help, she immediately parked herself on the mattress and refused to abandon it.

They eventually just leave her up there. Now they’re in the kitchen, sipping beer and juice (and Nate has no idea why Vanessa hasn’t said anything to him yet, he knows she drinks wine when she has the option) and chatting about the mercenary business. Turns out Vanessa’s pretty familiar with the ins and outs of the scene.

“How do you know so much?” Dopinder asks her, starry-eyed.

Vanessa gives him one of her mischievous smiles. “I’ve been working at Sister Margaret’s since you were in high school.”

“There is no way you are older than me,” says Dopinder gallantly.

Nate snorts, and so does Vanessa—although she glares at him for it. “Afraid so, kid. Me and Weasel go way back. Further back than me and Wade, even.”

Dopinder looks delighted. “Do you have any advice?”

“Make friends.” Vanessa sips her juice. “Don’t let Weasel fuck you over. He’s cool, but he is absolutely only in it for himself. Buck’s a good guy. He might cut you in if you ask him for partner work. Start by asking for half. He’ll say no, but you can work him down to a third.”

“I’m Indian. I know how to bargain.” Dopinder waves his free hand nonchalantly.

She grins at him. “So you’re just asking me who to bargain with.”

“I want to know their weaknesses so I can exploit them if necessary.” Dopinder looks too chipper to be so bloodthirsty. Then again, Nate did see him remorselessly mow a man down with his car.

“Learning how to shoot a gun might not hurt either,” he chimes in wryly. “Can’t kill them all with your cab.”

“No, that is very true.” Dopinder nods thoughtfully. Then he perks up. “You are a very good shot, Mr. Cable. I don’t suppose you would be willing to teach me?”

Vanessa looks like she’s trying not to laugh. “Yeah, Nate. Why don’t you take him shooting?”

Shit. “Do you even own a gun?” Nate asks.

Dopinder pulls out a handgun. “Of course.”

Nate frowns. “You’re holding it wrong.” He takes a sip of his beer and watches Dopinder try to work out how he’s supposed to be doing it. “Fine. I’ll find a shooting range and we can go.”

Dopinder beams at him. “Thank you, Mr. Cable! I will be eternally grateful.”

“That’s not really necessary,” Nate says.

“Together we will make the streets run red with blood.”

“Jesus.”

So this is happening. Well, the kid can drive, so who knows? Nate can use all the help he can get.

—

Hope’s miserable the next day, sullenly pushing her pancakes around her plate at breakfast. That’s how Nate knows it’s bad; the amount of sugar in the syrup should have sent her into fits of glee.

Hell, it almost sent him into fits of glee, even if it does make his teeth hurt. It’s worth saving the planet just to make sure people never run out of maple syrup. “Hey, sweetheart,” he says gently.

Hope grunts and then sighs. “Hi Daddy.”

What’s wrong? he asks her. Is it your mom?

Hope’s fork falls to the plate with a clatter. She pushes it away and buries her face in her arms on the table.

Vanessa startles where she’s at the stove making more pancakes. “Hope?”

“I want my mom!” Hope screams, muffled into the table.

Nate winces as her shoulders start shaking. “Sweetie—”

“Why’d we have to come back here?” she demands, glaring up at him with a red face and puffy eyes. “I hate it here!”

Nate pushes out of his chair and scoops her into his arms. She struggles, of course she does, and keeps hitting him even when he slides down the wall to sit on the floor with her in his lap, rocking her back and forth. “I know you miss your mom,” he tells her. “I miss her too.”

“No you don’t! You broke up and got a new family!” She throws a punch that catches his techno-organic shoulder and yelps.

“Quit that,” he tells her. “You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“I don’t care! Let me go,” Hope grumps. Her next punch lands on his chest, hard enough to bruise.

“You know, hitting people is generally not the best way to let them know you’re pissed at them,” says Vanessa.

Hope rounds on her, teeth bared. “You don’t get to tell me what to do!” she hisses. “You’re not my mom!”

Vanessa’s eyebrows shoot up. “Of course I’m not. But I got hit a lot over the years and I can tell you it feels really bad when someone you love does it to you.”

Hope glares at her, breathing hard. “I hate you,” she spits at Vanessa. “You’re the reason I’m stuck here instead of at home.”

“Hey!” snaps Nate. “I’m the reason you’re here, and your mother agreed. You can be mad about it, but don’t go blaming her.” He sighs, tucking her close so she can’t hit him anymore. “I know it’s hard,” he murmurs, “I know. I’m sorry I can’t make it easier on you.”

“I want Mommy,” she repeats stubbornly. “Go back and get her.”

“I asked her over and over if she wanted to come,” he reminds her. “She said no, remember?”

And that’s when the tears start. Pretty soon Hope is wailing into his neck, clutching at his shirt while he rubs her back and rocks her.

Nate looks up at Vanessa, and he’s not sure what shows on his face, but she turns off the stove and puts down the spatula and comes to sit next to him.

It’s starting to feel real, she thinks, and he’s missed the particular timbre of her voice in his head.

“I can hear you,” Hope growls between sobs.

There’s a flicker of alarm from Vanessa, but she sighs. “Are you supposed to be listening to my thoughts?”

Hope pulls her blotchy face out of Nate’s neck to glare at her. “Can’t help it when you yell,” she says.

“Didn’t know that’s what I was doing.” Vanessa eyes her with a new kind of calculation.

“You can too help it,” Nate chides her. “That was clearly for me, not you.”

Hope snorts. “I know it’s real, I’m not a baby.”

“Never said you were.” Vanessa leans back against the cabinets. “But knowing it’s real and feeling it are two different things.”

“What do you know about anything?” huffs Hope.

Vanessa shrugs. “My childhood sucked. I had to start over in a lot of new places.”

“Not like this,” Hope mumbles unhappily.

“No, not exactly like you,” Vanessa agrees. “I had pedophile uncles and no parents at all.”

Hope pulls her head out of Nate’s neck. “Uncles?” she repeats blankly, her face screwing up in disgust.

“Yep. They were the only ones around after my grandma died. Mom took off with some new boyfriend and ditched me when I was younger than you, and fuck my dad completely.”

Hope blinks. “Why?”

“Because he dumped my mom as soon as he found out she was pregnant with me and never did a thing to help me even when he got out of jail.” Vanessa looks at her. “Not everyone has a dad like yours.”

“Maybe that’s why you go around stealing husbands,” Hope tells her, watching her face to see how the blow lands.

She doesn’t expect Vanessa to laugh at her. “Nate, this girl’s got teeth,” she says, giving him an amused look. Bitch, echoes through his head, and he sees Hope’s mouth fall open in shock.

“You can’t call me that!” she tells Vanessa.

Vanessa raises her eyebrows. “Slipped out,” she says, and Nate narrows his eyes at her. She heads him off with a pointed finger. “Oh no,” she snaps, “I ran interference between you and Russell for a month, so don’t even.”

He catches a glimpse of Hope’s face, brightly eager now, and says, “you little shit.”

She immediately schools her face into something she thinks looks serious.

“Vanessa isn’t the reason your mom stayed behind or why I brought you here. This is her house, and she opened it to you. I’m not gonna let you disrespect her when all she’s done is paint your nails and buy you a bed and make you pancakes.”

“I didn’t want any of those things! I want Mommy!” Hope crosses her arms.

“That I can’t do,” says Vanessa. “But I’ll promise I won’t try to take her place.”

Hope glares at her. “You never could.”

“I know. She must be a really great mom if you miss her that much.”

“She is! She’s the best mom, and you’re never gonna replace her.”

“Good thing I’m not trying to.” Vanessa levels her with a look. “I’m just your dad’s girlfriend, kiddo. You barely know me. Only an insensitive asshole would try to act like your new mommy all of a sudden, especially when you’ve clearly already got a mom who loves you a lot.”

Hope looks stricken, and Nate pulls her close as she thinks, if she loves me, why’d she let me leave?

“She loves you,” he murmurs. “She loves you so much.”

Hope just cries, and Nate thinks he might hate Aliya after all for making their daughter hurt like this.

It takes a long time before Hope’s cried herself out and calmed down enough to resume pancakes. She looks embarrassed when Vanessa asks her if she wants one with chocolate chips, but nods.

“Sorry I yelled at you,” she mutters, still sullen.

“Sorry I called you a bitch,” Vanessa answers easily.

The pancake she delivers onto Hope’s plate has a chocolate chip smiley face. Hope stares down at it before she hesitantly cuts a small piece off the edge and nibbles at it. “Thanks. I do like pancakes.”

“All the best people do,” says Vanessa.

After breakfast, they go to the park. It’s a nice day, and the fresh air is good for all of them. They wander around the city for hours, letting Hope take it all in at her own pace. Vanessa suggests a small bookstore she found last week, and the presence of so many books and stuffed animals is enough to distract Hope from her pain. They stay for over an hour, Nate and Vanessa sipping tea that the shop owner offered them and watching Hope’s pile of books get bigger and bigger.

“You gonna be able to carry all that?” Vanessa asks.

Hope gives her a cocky smirk. “Yep.”

“God, she’s exactly like you,” says Vanessa with a sly look at Nate.

“It’s true. I’m kind of a bitch myself,” Nate murmurs, and grins into his tea when she snorts.

“I’m very aware,” she tells him, and something in the tone of her voice makes him pause, heart pounding.

She’s giving him that same speculative once over that she always does when she’s thinking about fucking him. Nate can’t say he expected to see it here in the middle of a children’s bookstore.

He glances at Hope, focuses, and then thinks, you want me to be your bitch?

Vanessa also looks over at Hope. A corner of her mouth lifts. “What makes you think you aren’t?”

His hand tightens on his cup.

Vanessa slides close to him and puts her lips directly against his ear. “When we get home, I want you to go in the bathroom and touch your cock. Just the head, though. I want you to rub it real soft, like you do when you touch my clit. I know how wet you get so your hand’s gonna glide so smooth.” She bites his ear. “And when you’re about to come I want you to take a picture of your dick and send it to me asking if you can.”

Nate’s pretty sure he makes a noise, because Hope looks up from the chapter book she’s considering for her pile. He takes a deep breath to calm down. “And will you say yes?”

“Not sure yet.” Vanessa steps back and takes a sip of tea. “Depends on how I feel. I’m whimsical, you know.” She grins.

Nate’s glad he borrowed one of Wade’s sweatshirts; it hangs low enough to hide his boner. Which he’s gonna have to walk home with. And from the pleased look on Vanessa’s face, she knows it. Evil woman.

Now Nate’s sure he loves her.

Hope’s bag of books is almost as big as she is; she looks like a little redheaded dragon with a hoard as she carries it back with them. He’s not going to stop her from using her telekinesis either; means he doesn’t have to carry the thing. As it is, he’s stuck with her stuffed unicorn. It’s getting him fond looks from all the women jogging past.

When they get home, Hope lets go of the bag and hovers it up the stairs like the little show off she is. The unicorn follows her as soon as Nate lets go of it.

“That ought to keep her entertained for awhile,” Vanessa muses.

“I hope so. It wasn’t cheap.”

She hums and gives him a look. “Didn’t I tell you to do something earlier?”

The words hit him like a fist, knocking the breath out of him. This woman and her filthy mind. He wants to fall to his knees and worship her. Or throw her over the counter and have her until she’s as hot and desperate as she’s made him.

Instead of doing either, he swallows. “How long are we gonna keep playing this game?” he asks.

“As long as it’s fun.” Vanessa smirks. “Are you gonna try to tell me you’re not having fun?”

Nate doesn’t say anything. She knows, of course she knows how the shame draws everything tighter, makes him hotter, makes him need her more than he thought he ever could.

She’s completely unmanned him, and now she’s asking him to tell her to keep doing it. He shivers, torn about the prospect of accepting and what it will mean.

“What would you do if I said no?”

Vanessa tilts her head. “I’d stop.”

Something eases in his chest, at least until she continues, “and I’d wait for you to come crawling to me begging for it.”

Nate’s sure he makes a noise then, because her lips curl.

“You make a good top, Nate. But you’re a good little soldier who likes to follow orders. You want someone to do your thinking for you once in awhile so you can shut off and just obey.” Vanessa watches him carefully. “And you feel weird about letting yourself have that, don’t you?”

He squirms. Actually fucking squirms, like a naughty kid that’s gotten caught with his hand down his pants. “I was encouraged to be decisive,” he mumbles.

She snorts. “You moved your kid in with us after a week. I’d say you’re decisive. But don’t change the subject. The thought of being Wade’s and my plaything gets you hot. I’ve seen what kind of fantasies get you all the way there, Nate, and they’re not the dominant ones.”

“Fuck.” He looks away, feeling his face burn.

Vanessa leans against the counter. “I’ve got a chat open with Wade. He thinks you’re cute when you get all flushed and needy. I wish I could have taken a picture of your face when I told you to stop the other day. He’d have liked to see that.”

Nate bites his lip, horrified by the way his cock twitches. Wade would be awful, pointing and giggling and enjoying his discomfort.

Her phone beeps, and she looks at it carelessly. “Oh. He says he bets you’d look great in his Hello Kitty panties.” She studies him thoughtfully. “I’d go with lace, I think. More sophisticated. Better texture when your cock presses against it.”

Nate desperately looks around to see if Hope has crept back downstairs. “Shit,” he breathes, “you can’t just say shit like that, you—”

“Yes I can.” Simple as that. “Get your dick out. I wanna see.”

“Hope,” he hisses, but she snorts.

“I’m not telling you to strip naked. You’re facing away from the stairs, do you think I’d risk that? Trust me. And show me your cock.”

His hands shake when he reaches for his fly. Slowly, he gets his pants open and looks up to her holding up her phone. He freezes. “What are you doing?”

“Filming you.” She meets his eyes. “For Wade. He wants to see. Now take that pretty dick out for me.”

Oh, god. Nate’s face is on fire as he looks down and carefully pulls his cock out of his pants.

“There we go,” she murmurs. “Now touch it. Go slow.”

Nate has to take a deep breath before he wraps his hand around his cock.

“No.” Vanessa’s voice is sharp. “The head. Like I told you.”

“Vanessa,” he breathes as his cock throbs in his hand.

“You wanna be good for me, don’t you? If you’re good I might let you eat my pussy later. I know how you like that.”

Fuck, he does. He closes his eyes and cups the head of his cock, easing the foreskin back and rubbing with his fingertips. It’s barely enough, and it makes him bite back a whimper.

“He’s so pretty, Wade. Look how he needs it.” Vanessa smirks at him. “Eager little denial slut. Think I should let him come? I wonder if he even wants me to.”

Nate gasps, rubbing faster. He’s never touched himself like this before; it’s better than he expected, a dirty tease that makes his hips twitch. He stares at the phone, picturing Wade watching him through the camera and seeing firsthand how pathetic he is. It makes his cock jump under his fingertips.

“Maybe I shouldn’t,” Vanessa muses. “He eats pussy better when he’s horny, and I haven’t gotten off since the last time all three of us fucked. Maybe I should save him for you, Wade. You wanna see if you can make him nut before you even get your cock in him?”

Nate whines then. “Please,” he gasps before he can overthink it. “Vanessa, please.”

She glances at him coolly. “You’re almost as wet as me, sweetie,” she says. “Are you about to come?”

“I could,” he whispers, face burning.

“Just from that, huh?” Her lips curl. “God, you’re so cute. Wade says he wants to see if you’ll come just from something in your ass if I edge you long enough. Wanna find out?”

Damn her, for putting the choice in his hands now. He can’t think straight, not with the tremors up his thighs and the memory of Wade talking about licking him open. “I can’t,” he whispers, hanging his head. “Please.”

“Get your hand off your cock.”

He moans then, low and miserable as he drops his hand and stands there panting. He can feel his pulse pounding in his dick, and his balls are so sensitive that the fabric of his underwear is almost unbearable.

“Good boy.” Vanessa’s voice soothes him. “He behaves way better than you, Wade. You always tried to see if you could come anyway. Guess he’s just not a brat. Now clean your hand off, Nate. We’re gonna start dinner.”

He looks at her, confused and horny and yeah, eager to please.

She raises her eyebrows. “Lick it up. Good boys clean up their messes.”

He shudders, keeping his eyes on her as he raises the palm to his mouth. The bitter precum on his tongue just makes him hornier, but he licks his hand clean until Vanessa nods at him. Then he tucks his aching dick back into his pants and goes to wash his hands while she keeps texting with Wade.

“God, I miss having him home,” she sighs as she tucks her phone away.

Nate glances at her. “So do I.”

“I bet.” She looks amused. It fades away as she turns to get a pan.

“You missed your appointment,” Nate says casually.

Vanessa pauses.

“To put your birth control back in,” Nate elaborates, even though they both know. “You didn’t go to the appointment.”

She sighs. “How much do you know?”

Nate doesn’t pretend to misunderstand her. “I have no idea if you’re pregnant yet.”

“Yet.” She turns wide dark eyes on him, and he lets himself smile.

“I tried to avoid spoilers, but I did see some things.”

“Okay, it is bullshit that you know more about this than I do. Tell me everything.”

“All I checked was whether you were both healthy, and you were,” says Nate.

“When?” There’s something desperate in Vanessa’s voice.

“Soon. Within a year.” God, he wants to hold her.

She swallows, fragile hope chasing across her face. “And we’re both gonna be fine?”

Nate nods. “I had to look,” he confesses softly. “I had to know how long I’d have you, and it’s a long time.”

Vanessa sits down heavily, wrapping her arms around herself.

He adds, “and I wanted to be able to reassure Wade.”

That gets her to laugh. It comes out shaky. “Yeah, shit. He’s gonna be a wreck.”

“I know that feeling. I figure this way, he’ll be able to enjoy the ride without trying to smother you.”

She groans. “Oh my god, don’t even joke about that. I’ve been having nightmares about him stabbing the doctor and leaving me to deliver the baby on my own.”

Nate snorts before he can stop himself. “I’ll try to stop him.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that.” Vanessa takes a deep breath. “Jesus. You spend so long wondering if it’s ever gonna happen, and then...within a year, fuck.”

“I can’t wait to meet them,” Nate murmurs fondly. “Your kid’s gonna be so fucking weird.”

“Yeah,” she agrees, a smile spreading slow across her face. She puts a hand to her belly, looking down at it.

Nate steps up behind her, careful to remember Wade’s advice about not pushing, and lays his hands lightly on her upper arms. She can stand up and move away if she wants, but she leans back.

“You’re really gonna stick it out,” she says softly.

“I told you you’re worth coming back to.” Nate kisses her shoulder.

“God, you’re a sap.” But she doesn’t pull away.

“I don’t want you to have to doubt me again.”

“I already told you how to make that happen.”

He smirks. “Haven’t I been good at following your rules? I told you, I’ll do whatever it takes to rebuild your trust.”

Vanessa cranes her neck. “You’re gonna try to spin this like you’re passing a test?” She grins. “Just admit you get off on it, you dirty boy.”

That makes him snort, but he still can’t quite bring himself to admit it out loud.

She must realize, because she doesn’t press him. Just shakes her head and pats his cheek. “Okay. Time to make the chimichangas.”

“That’s not actually what we’re having, is it?” He frowns.

“No, dipshit. I got stuff for baked chicken.” Vanessa rolls her eyes.

He rolls his back at her. “I’m not bothering to predict what you’ll do. God knows you’ll find a way to surprise me anyway.”

That pleases her. “Don’t forget it,” she says with a satisfied smile.

They’ll start dinner in a minute, but Nate takes the minute to hold her close. The scent of her, the softness of her hair make him feel soft and strong and happy all at the same time. Takes a special kind of person to reduce him to nothing and build him back up again, and he needs a moment to just marvel at her. Not that he’ll let her know; he can already feel her tensing.

So he lets go, and watches her with a smile as she gets up and moves around the kitchen. “How can I help?” he asks.

“This is easy stuff,” she says. “You can just stand there and look pretty.”

“Suit yourself.”

Hope likes the chicken almost as much as the pancakes, and she’s still pleased enough with the books that she thanks Vanessa politely and asks if they can have it again.

“I’m just glad she likes the easy meal,” Vanessa tells him that night as he’s brushing his teeth. “With my luck, her favorite meal would be Beef Wellington.”

Nate snorts, turning the water off and wiping his mouth. “She’s usually a pretty easy kid.”

“She’s a good kid,” Vanessa says. “She’s just going through some shit.”

He hums in agreement, pausing in the doorway to look at her where she’s sitting on the bed. “So have I been good today?” he finally forces himself to ask.

Vanessa blinks, and then that wicked smile curls her mouth. She uncrosses her legs, smug when she sees how his eyes follow the movement. “Ask,” she tells him.

Nate shivers; he was never this kinky before he met Wade. “Can I eat your pussy?” Saying the words out loud has his dick hardening in his sleep pants.

“I’m considering it. Ask nicely.” Vanessa’s still smiling, but her eyes are sharp.

Fuck, she’s gonna make him beg for it. “Shit,” he whispers. “Please, will you let me make you come?”

Vanessa grins. “Get naked. I wanna see how hard you are.”

He shoves his pants down, kicking them away and straightening up. The way she looks him over makes him feel bizarrely like inspection days used to, during training. If his instructors had ever looked like her, he’d have been in fighting form a lot earlier.

“God, you have a pretty cock,” she coos. “Big beautiful cock like that makes a girl wanna suck it.”

Nate sways on his feet, hissing at the thought. “You can’t,” he whispers. “I’ll come if you do.”

“What a good, thoughtful boy you are.” Vanessa sits up. “Get on your knees then. I don’t want you humping the bed and coming all over.”

He groans and falls to his knees, watching eagerly as she wiggles her underwear off her hips. “I want you,” he rasps.

“I can see that.” She scoots to the edge of the bed and spreads wide, letting him see everything. It took him by surprise, the first time he saw that there was no hair between her legs. Women in this time shave everything, for whatever reason. He didn’t expect to like it, but he does have to admit it makes oral nicer. “You dying for a taste, pretty boy?”

He nods, and then whines—actually whines like a dog—when she slips her fingers between her legs and teases her clit. She’s wet, he can see her glistening in the lamplight.

Vanessa fingers herself leisurely for a few moments, watching him lose his mind with a knowing smile. Then she holds out her hand. “Come on, sweetie. You’ve been so good. Have a taste.”

He crawls to her, desperate enough to forget his pride. He grabs her wrist and gets his mouth on her fingers with a moan, tasting the bright tart flavor of her as he sucks them deep enough into his mouth to gag.

“Shit,” she breathes. “Oh my god, you’re so fucking needy. Shit.” She pulls her hand away—he tries to follow it with a breathy sound he barely knew he was capable of. “Get down there, dammit. Lick me. Do it right now.”

She doesn’t have to tell him twice. Nate pushes her thighs apart and laps at her with a grateful moan. Vanessa gets a hand in his hair to hold him where she wants him, and he likes that too. He can’t stop the soft, eager noises he keeps making as he licks her, gently at first and then faster when her breath starts to hitch.

“That’s right,” she pants. “Fuck, that feels good. Keep it up, sweetie, lick me just like that. Good boy, good boy....”

Nate grips her thighs, as much to ground himself as to keep her spread for him. He wants to taste her better, so he dips his head, slurping at her hole before he moves back to her clit. When he sucks on it, she squeals, which makes want to keep doing it. Her clit is so swollen, he can feel it when he teases it with the tip of his tongue, and he wants to get her there, wants to feel her thighs shake and her whole body tremble when she comes under his mouth.

It doesn’t take her long; she gets off on this game too. He can feel her legs start to shake under his hands and speeds up in spite of the way his jaw aches. She shoves a hand in her mouth to keep from yelling, the hand in his hair going painfully tight before she collapses back on the bed, chest heaving.

Nate pulls back to kiss her thigh. “What if I give you one for every one you won’t let me have?” he whispers, licking his lips.

“Shitfuck,” she pants. “Fuck. Yes.”

He seals his mouth over her, loving the way her whole body jerks, and works her up again carefully, taking his time because he wants to destroy her with pleasure. He can feel her stomach quiver and speeds up, slurping loudly over her clit just to hear her whispered “fuck” and the shaky moan that follows it when he starts in with the little flicking motions that get her there faster than anything else.

She’s actually sobbing by the time she comes again, glistening with sweat and face blotchy and red. Nate thinks she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“Oh my god,” she pants, letting go of his hair. “I think we’re two for two.”

“Yeah,” he rasps, resting his forehead on her stomach. He likes how it still quivers when he kisses it.

There’s something Zen-like about fucking with no hope of an orgasm; it forces him to enjoy the process rather than chase the conclusion. Nate likes it. He thinks that when he finally comes, it’s gonna be spectacular.

And he wants, he realizes, to save it for Wade.

Vanessa smiles when he says so, still muffled against her skin. “Looks like we’ve both got stuff we’re saving just for him.” She combs her fingers through his hair, winding him back down until he’s as loose-limbed and sleepy as she is. “He’ll be so flattered.”

“How long can we keep this up?” Nate wonders around a yawn. “He’s miserable at the school. You can tell just talking to him.”

She gets quiet. “Most people can’t,” she says softly. “Tell when Wade’s miserable, I mean.”

“I know what you mean.” She’s thinking of all the hurtful shit people have said, either jokingly about his face or complaining in front of him about his behavior because it would never occur to them that Deadpool has feelings to hurt.

Russell has to stay in school. Wade has to get out of the school. And that gets Nate thinking about options.

Chapter Text

The week flies by; Hope has a few good days, aided by the delivery of the third tv they’ve gone through in as many weeks, and on her bad days she sits and draws pictures of their old home and sulks and snipes at Vanessa.

“I’m the new woman in your life,” Vanessa says with a shrug when he apologizes to her (again) for Hope’s behavior. “Think about it, from where she’s sitting I’m the biggest threat to her mom’s position.”

Nate frowns. “How the hell do you know so much about how kids think?”

“Oh sweetie,” she says. “I read a lot of psych shit over the years.”

He blinks, and then considers how well-adjusted she seems for all the shit he knows she’s been through. “Right.”

“She likes it when I ask about her mom,” Vanessa tells him, “so I do. I think she likes it better here but feels guilty about that.”

That would explain the mood swings. Nate sighs. “I wish she would stop lashing out at you.”

“Angry kids don’t know how to pick a target,” says Vanessa. “They lash out at the people they can. She can’t let herself stay mad at you because she needs you. She can’t let herself stay mad at her mom because that feels like betraying her. I’m the easy target.”

He stares at her. Somehow she makes it sound so simple. “I keep trying to make her aim it at me.”

“I know, and I appreciate it.” She smiles. “It’ll get better with time.”

Nate’s glad she’s optimistic, because he’s thoroughly sick of his kid being an asshole by the time Wade and Russell come home. Just because he sympathizes doesn’t mean he likes getting punched whenever she lashes out.

It’s made it difficult to focus on his work; most of the plans he was so eager to begin during those final days at their compound got put on hold while he’s reassembled his life here. In spite of that, there’s one thing he can accomplish within the week, and it might hold some answers on a personal scale as well as a global one. He’s been spending every free moment he has working on it, but between Hope and the weight of his own expectations, he’s feeling drained.

The only real reprieve he gets is when Vanessa turns that look on him, that cool calculating one that makes him flush all over and gets his dick hard. He isn’t sure whether he loves or dreads it when she tells him to take his cock out and touch it for her where she can see. Last night she got Wade in on the commentary and Nate thought he was going to come just from Wade’s delighted suggestion about putting the videos online and turning Nate into their little cam whore.

Wade’s excuses to Vanessa get more outlandish each time he comes home; this week there’s something about a march of the penguins and saving the whales. Vanessa cracks after the one about securing the southern border against the immigrants who aren’t coming to kill everyone.

“Come here and kiss me,” she demands with a big grin, and Wade scoops her up.

Russell digs in his ear and looks uncomfortable as Wade and Vanessa kiss next to him. Nate nods to him. He nods back.

And then Wade puts Vanessa down and he’s moving toward Nate and before Nate can react he’s being kissed within an inch of his life. No way should Wade kiss him like this in front of the kids, but the heat of his mouth and the wicked swipe of his tongue is so good Nate forgets to be ashamed.

When Wade pulls away, breathing a little hard and grinning like the shit he is, Nate becomes aware that he has a hand curled around the back of Wade’s neck to keep him there.

“Ew,” says Hope loudly, shattering the moment.

Russell takes the opening to mutter, “yeah, get a room.”

Nate glares at her. She glares back.

“Hope!” Wade breaks away and holds up a hand for a high five. “Did you get to episode fourteen yet?”

“I’m way past that,” she says, crossing her arms. “You should probably take a shower. We can talk about it after.”

Wade boops her nose. “Fine. I expect a full report after.” He slips past her and vanishes upstairs.

“What the hell are you talking about?” asks Nate.

“My Little Pony,” Hope tells him. “We text.”

Nate squints at her, but decides not to ask. At least there’s one adult in the house that she likes.

“I ordered pizza,” Vanessa tells Russell, pulling him into a tight hug. “Glad you’re home, kid.”

“How was mutant school?” Hope stares at Russell with disconcerting eagerness. “I wanna go so bad.”

Russell actually backs up a step. “Prison was better,” he mutters. “Except for the food.”

“Horseshit,” says Nate. “You had to stow a pen up your ass in prison because it wasn’t safe.”

“Gross!” Hope gives Russell a disgusted look.

“Lots of people hide things in their butts in prison,” says Vanessa. “It’s smart.”

“Butts are gross,” Hope says.

“Says you,” Vanessa shoots back with a grin.

Hope frowns.

Before she can puzzle through that, Nate decides to take back control of his life. “I’m gonna try to get some work done,” he mutters, perfectly aware he won’t fool Vanessa.

She raises her eyebrows, but only shrugs. “Pizza’s coming in an hour.” She’s jealous and annoyed with herself about it.

Sundays can be all yours, he offers, and she lovingly gives him the finger in response.

“What did he say?” asks Russell, but Nate’s already going upstairs, so he doesn’t hear her answer.

“Wade?” He can hear the shower going, and he pulls his shirt off as he approaches the bathroom door. “Wade.”

Telepathy is damn near impossible with Wade; his mind is as slippery as a wet cunt—and okay, Nate’s horny. His metaphors aren’t the best. But he does register Wade’s awareness: first sharp, all the instincts of an assassin, and then relaxing as Nate’s presence registers.

“Nate! Ambushing me in the shower?”

“Yes.” Nate pushes his pants down and kicks them aside. “Did you think you could kiss me like that and then walk away?”

“Not when you’ve been horny on main for a week straight.” Wade opens the shower door. “Get in here.”

Nate steps in, sighing as the hot water hits his skin. “I love this fucking shower.”

“I’m gonna love fucking you in this shower.” Wade’s slick as an eel when he presses against Nate’s back. Strong arms wrap around him, sliding slippery over his chest and catching a little on the techno-organic mesh.

Nate groans and lets his head fall back against Wade’s shoulder, sighing at the feel of those clever fingers dancing over his skin.

“Be real with me, you got a boner when I teabagged you on the convoy.” Wade kisses his neck.

“Not at the time. But I thought about it later.” Nate turns to give Wade a half-smile.

“While you were touching yourself?”

Nate sighs fondly. “Yes Wade, while I was touching myself.”

Wade pokes his nipple. “Poor little lonely guy.”

“Wade. Focus.”

“Sorry. Did you ever have two?”

Nate sighs again. “Not since I can remember.” He takes Wade’s hand and guides it lower. “I want you to touch me now.”

“Oh.” Wade breathes, dancing his fingertips across Nate’s abs and making him squirm. “Yeah you do. Have you been playing with your asshole since I brought it up? Inquiring minds want to know.”

“Not really,” Nate admits.

“Oh.” Wade frowns. “You seemed into it on the phone.”

Nate bites his lip. “I wanted you to do it.”

Wade blinks a few times. “Were you saving yourself for me? Oh my god, that’s precious!” He smacks a kiss to Nate’s cheek. “Have you by chance been eating your recommended daily amount of fiber?”

Nate groans. “Wade. My ass is clean. Let’s do this.”

“Okay, cool. I mean, stuff happens with anal. Hell, there are times me and Vanessa don’t talk about, like the time we went for Mexican and then got horny after? Never try butt stuff after Taco Bell.”

“I no longer have an erection, Wade. Thanks for that.”

“No! We’ll get it back, don’t you worry.”

Nate sighs, turning in Wade’s arms and kissing him. It’s the best way he’s found so far to stop his mouth. “Just get your hands on me,” he growls.

That seems easy enough for Wade to do. He drags his hands down Nate’s back, making Nate arch before he gropes his ass.

Nate pushes back into it with a grunt; Wade’s hands are hot and the way he’s kneading his asscheeks is way too good. “Come on,” he whispers against Wade’s mouth. “Gonna keep teasing?”

Wade groans and kisses him again, squeezing his ass hard enough to bruise. Normally Nate isn’t a big fan of pain, but this lights up his nerve endings and makes him moan.

“Oh shit, you liked that, huh? Bet Vanessa hasn’t spanked you yet, you sounded surprised.”

“Jesus, Wade, fucking do something—”

Wade’s hand cracks across his ass, shocking a yelp out of him. He stares up at Wade with his mouth hanging open, making Wade giggle before he does it again. The sound is deafening as it echoes off the tiles.

Nate sags against Wade, tucking his face against his neck.

“Legs apart a little more,” Wade coos. “That’s it, baby, thanks.” And then he’s easing his fingers down Nate’s crack, petting gun callused fingertips over the delicate skin of his asshole and making Nate cling just to keep his legs from buckling.

“Shit,” he breathes as Wade slips his hand lower to fondle his balls. “Shit, that’s good.”

“God, you are needy. Ness was right.” Wade’s grinning, Nate can tell just from his voice. “You’re gonna lose your mind when I actually get a finger in you.”

“Probably,” Nate pants. No point in being proud now. “You should find out.”

“Mm.” Wade lets go of his ass to grab the conditioner. “We should start keeping lube in the shower.”

“Yeah, we should.” Nate likes that idea. Likes the thought of Wade being able to step in behind him and have him whenever he wants.

“And maybe I shouldn’t be the only one with a butt plug either.” Wade squirts a big glob of conditioner into his palm. “You really think I dress like a sex toy? I always meant to ask.”

Nate grunts. “Might’ve been flirting,” he mutters.

“That’s a weird way to flirt,” says Wade, as though it didn’t work.

“Are you gonna finger my ass or what?” Nate demands.

“Pushy! Just like my finger,” says Wade, and he slips a (slick, surprisingly cold) finger into Nate’s ass.

It’s strange. The temperature thing goes away within seconds, leaving Nate feeling full in a way he can’t quite describe.

And then Wade starts to move, pressing in deeper and curling his finger until he rubs against something that makes Nate’s whole body jerk.

He swears, biting Wade’s shoulder, and Wade does it again, slowly like a fucking tease. “More,” Nate rasps.

“Patience, pudding cup. I’m gonna work you up steady. Trust me.”

“Call me pudding cup again and I’ll rip your dick off to use as a dildo,” Nate growls. “Trust me.”

That only makes Wade laugh and rub his prostate a little softer, dragging a needy whine out of Nate’s throat. “Sweet talker.”

“Wade, he gasps, rolling his hips and shivering at the feel of Wade’s erection pressing against his stomach. He wants it in him, wants Wade to shove his face against the tile and use him until they’re both sore. “Come on, more.”

Wade slips another finger in, pushing more conditioner inside him with easy, practiced moves. “I was right. Slides in like butter. You’re really fucking easy, Nate, you know that? Gotta tell you, if you’d asked me if the guy who singlehandedly broke into the Icebox was a slutty bottom, I’d probably have said no.”

Nate can feel his face heating up. “Shut up and play with my ass,” he grunts, spreading his legs wider.

“God, you’re such a bossy bitch.” Wade sounds delighted. He crooks his fingers suddenly, rubbing hard against Nate’s prostate and making him yell. Nate’s legs buckle, and Wade catches him around the waist. “Ass muppets, you’re heavy!”

“You fucking idiot, what the hell was that?” Nate’s snarl gets cut off when Wade rubs his prostate again. “Jesus.”

“I’ve got you,” Wade promises, and for whatever stupid reason, Nate believes him.

He kisses Wade, licking at his lips and then opening his mouth. Wade delivers, fucking his tongue into Nate’s mouth just like he’s fucking his fingers into his ass. And Nate whines for it, clutching at Wade’s shoulders and twitching his hips. He’s trying to hold still and take it, but it feels too good.

“Oh,” Wade breathes when he breaks the kiss, “you look good like this.” He licks Nate’s open mouth and grins when Nate tries to chase the kiss. “You’re gonna be so pretty when you take my cock, Nate.”

Nate moans when Wade’s fingers speed up, massaging his prostate with devastating accuracy. It feels different than a regular orgasm building; this has his whole body tight and straining, rolling his hips shamelessly to meet Wade thrust for thrust. “Shit,” he pants. It’s too good, he can’t take any more of this.

And then Wade pauses. “Did Vanessa say you could come yet?”

“Goddammit, Wade!” Nate yells. “If you don’t fucking—” he cries out at the next precision strike to his prostate. “Please.”

“Tell me you’re my little pudding cup,” Wade whispers in his ear.

“I’m gonna kill you and fuck your corpse,” snaps Nate.

“Kinky. I bet you say that to all the boys. Come on, say it.” Wade circles around his prostate without hitting it directly. “Say it, babycakes. Let me make you come all over.”

Nate trembles, hating himself for going weak in the knees. No one else can do this to him; he’s always been so in control of himself, and here he is, shaking apart in Wade’s arms from sheer need. He makes a soft, humiliating noise. “Please, Wade.”

“You know what to do,” Wade murmurs confidently, and fuck, it’s so hot to see him like this. He’s rarely this self-possessed, and all that focus currently aimed at Nate is heady.

Then those fingers are back to massaging his prostate, and Nate’s pride goes out the window. “I fucking hate you,” he growls. “Wade—please—I’m your pudding cup, now make me fucking come!”

“Good boy.” Wade kisses him deep and dirty as he goes for deeper thrusts. He spreads his fingers, stretching Nate open on the downstroke before dragging them across his prostate hard enough to make Nate see stars. “Give it up for me, baby. My sloppy little slut.”

Nate can feel it, a pressure in his balls and in his gut, growing with every press of those wonderful fingers. It’s overwhelming when it catches him, like cresting a wave, and he comes messily all over Wade’s hip. Wade has to kiss him hard to muffle the noises he’s making.

He doesn’t stop either; he keeps Nate there as long as he can, until they’re both streaked with come and Nate stops shaking. “So pretty,” he whispers when he pulls back, warm breath against Nate’s panting mouth.

“Fuck me,” Nate whispers. “I want it, get in me, come on. Wade, please.”

Wade swallows. “You sure about that? This is fanfic, there are rules. You always need at least three fingers before you put the dick in, that’s how it’s worked since Trek zines—”

“What the fuck are you talking about? Put another finger in if you have to, just fuck me.”

“Eh, rules are made to be broken,” says Wade thoughtfully. “I mean, this is a superhero franchise, so realism is seriously overrated. Like how your time travel has absolutely no science to justify it. What’s with that?”

“Wade,” grits Nate. “Do you want to fuck my ass or not? Because I got mine and I will leave you here to jack off.”

“Oh! Right.” Wade kisses him. “You’re adorable when you’re grumpy, did you know that? Now bring it around, I wanna see if I still slide in smooth as butter. Speaking of which,” he says conversationally as he presses Nate against the wall of the shower, “they make a lube called Boy Butter. It’s great, I think you’d like it.”

“I’d like it if you stopped talking and put it in me,” grumbles Nate. He has no idea how Wade can get distracted when fucking is on offer. God knows if the situation was reversed and Wade was half bent over against the wall with his ass displayed, Nate would be balls deep in it already.

“So impatient. Who knew I was the one with impulse control here? Plot twist.” Wade kisses the back of his neck. “I like it.”

Nate wonders if it’s beneath him to wiggle his ass to get Wade’s attention. He wonders if anything is beneath him now that he’s called himself Wade’s little pudding cup. He wonders why Wade hasn’t put his dick in him yet.

And then Wade does, and it’s huge and it’s perfect and Nate bows his head and moans deep in his chest. This is worth the stupid banter and the wait; the stretch is just shy of painful and the texture of Wade’s skin is amazing and the noise Wade makes when he bottoms out is better than he could have possibly imagined.

The slap of skin on skin as Wade starts to move is so fucking dirty; Nate can’t get hard again yet, not after he’s just drained his balls for the first time in over a week, but sparks still dance up and down his spine every time Wade grazes his prostate.

“Motherfuck,” Wade breathes, kissing along the metallic side of his neck, “I knew you were a tightass, but this is so much better than I expected.”

“What the hell did you expect?” Nate snaps, wondering how it is that he can be annoyed while getting fucked within an inch of his life.

“More repression,” Wade grunts. “You’re such a manly man, didn’t think you’d be this into getting your boypussy pounded.”

Nate damn near chokes. “What the fuck did you just say to me?” he demands, flushing.

“Ooh, clench your ass like that again, that was great.”

“Don’t—” Nate can’t even repeat it. Jesus. “What the fuck, Wade? You can’t say shit like that!”

Wade pauses. “Like what? I told you to clench your ass again.”

Nate does, and Wade moans prettily for him. “I meant before,” he grunts. “Don’t—don’t fucking say that again.”

“What, boypussy?” Wade thrusts in hard to cut off Nate’s protests. “But pudding cup, your sweet little hole is just as hot and sloppy as a well-fucked cunt. Feels exactly like when I fuck Ness.”

Nate can’t control the noise he makes then. He flushes hot all over, the humiliation of it making his dick twitch optimistically between his legs.

Wade doesn’t miss it. “You know,” he says slyly, “most girls can’t get there just from having their g-spot pounded, but you can, can’t you?”

Nate can’t speak; Wade rolls his hips, dragging his cock just right over Nate’s prostate, and pulls a high, breathy noise from him.

“Yeah, just like that,” Wade whispers, husky against his ear. “Moan for me, pretty girl. I’m gonna give it to you just right.”

“Shut up,” Nate whispers desperately. His face is on fire, but there’s also a heat pooling in his gut that promises to bring his dick back online sooner than expected.

“You like this.” Wade’s lips curl against his ear. “I had no idea you were such a little freak. I should put you in some of my princess panties when we’re done here. You can wear them under your practical man pants and no one but me will know.”

Nate swallows loudly. His mouth is dry, in spite of all the water. “Don’t,” he whispers again, gasping as Wade’s next thrust hits just right. “God, Wade. You can’t.”

“Oh, I can.” Wade starts to speed up. “Think I will. I wanna see you squirm all night.” He grips Nate’s hips harder, holding him just where he wants him. “Oooh, me and Ness can inspect you at the end of the night, see if you were a good girl or if you were a dirty little whore who soaked her panties.”

“Oh my god,” Nate breathes; his cock’s half hard again. He didn’t even think that was possible. “Wade, Wade, please.” He’s not sure what he’s begging for, if he wants Wade to do it or not to do it, or just to touch him again. All he knows is that the image is stuck in his brain now, like an itch he can’t scratch, the thought of Vanessa’s dark cool eyes on him as he pushes his pants down to show her the filthy shameful girl underwear Wade stuffed him into.

“I’m gonna come in you,” Wade tells him. “No condom or anything, and we’d just better hope Vanessa’s not the only one I knock up.”

Nate shoves a hand in his mouth, horrified. It’s—it’s so stupid, but it’s also wrong in a primal way that shoots through him like lightning. He hangs his head with a sob, pushing his ass back to meet Wade’s thrusts. He’s so fucking turned on, and Wade knows it, that’s why he reaches around and pets a fingertip across the head of his cock.

It makes him moan, high and needy, and he does it again when Wade bites his ear and whispers, “don’t you like it when I rub your clit?”

“Jesus,” he gasps as he squirms, torn between thrusting into the touch or rocking back into Wade’s thrusts. “Wade, don’t.”

“You do. It makes your pussy so wet, doesn’t it? I can feel you clenching on me, you naughty girl.”

“Wade!” Nate has to stop clutching the tile with his techno-organic hand before he cracks it.

“Squeeze me again. You’re gonna have to clench so tight to keep all my come inside you.” Wade licks his ear, grunting as his thrusts turn erratic. “Right—in your tight—little cunt!”

The tile cracks.

Next thing Nate knows Wade is giggling with his face tucked against the back of Nate’s neck.

“Holy shit,” he says breathlessly. “Looks like I found your kink.”

Nate stares at the spiderweb of cracks in Vanessa’s tile with his mouth hanging open. He clears his throat. “Vanessa’s gonna kill me,” he says.

Wade hooks his chin over Nate’s shoulder and eyes the crack. “Or me. Maybe both of us.” He sighs. “Well, guess I better bundle you into princess panties while we still got time!” He reaches over and turns off the water.

“Wade, wait. We have to tell her.” Nate stares after Wade as he gets out and starts toweling off.

“Just let me handle it.” Wade hands Nate the towel and wanders into the bedroom. “I know I saw those panties somewhere...”

“Wade!” Nate’s face gets hot again. “I’m not wearing women’s underwear.”

“Okay, pudding cup.” Wade keeps digging around.

The urge to grab his face is stronger than Nate expects. He sighs and dries himself off, hanging the towel up like a responsible adult and not some sex fiend who cracked tile because of Wade Wilson and his goddamned mouth.

“Ha!” says Wade from halfway under the bed as he reaches for his pants. “Found ‘em!”

Nate doesn’t want to look. He could put his pants on and escape downstairs and beg Vanessa for forgiveness and forget the whole incident ever happened.

He turns, already cringing at the thought of what Wade has in his hand. The reality is worse. Wade’s holding a pair of soft pink panties that are way too big to be Vanessa’s. They have little flowers across the front, and a big fucking satiny bow as the icing on the shit cupcake.

“No,” he says.

Wade’s grin doesn’t dim. “But you’d look so pretty!”

Nate glances down at himself, a mess of scars and metal and greying body hair. There’s nothing soft about him. He would look ridiculous in that shit. “You fucking wear them if you like them so much.”

That he can get behind. Wade likes all sorts of girly shit, like Hope’s pony cartoon and the Golden Girls. Those soft girlish panties suit Wade, would stretch nicely across his taut ass and frame his cock with that bow.

“Oh, I have. I took them with me the first week I went to that school, but Colossus didn’t think they were as cute as I do. Go figure.”

Nate scowls at him. “How many people are you trying to fuck at one time?” he asks, pissy because the thought of Wade with another man is...it’s bad. He doesn’t enjoy that.

“Just three. And I really think pink’s your color. It goes great with grey, haven’t you looked on Pinterest lately?”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“I’ll show you later.”

Nate stares at the panties, lip curling. He wants Wade to talk him into it, he realizes, and the epiphany makes him flush. Shit.

“You are adorable when you blush,” Wade points out. “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?”

“Don’t make me do this,” he whispers roughly, biting his lip.

Wade tilts his head. “See, now I’m getting mixed signals. Because you’re saying no and projecting yes as hard as you possibly can.”

“Dammit, Wade.” Nate closes his eyes. He can’t look at those panties anymore.

Wade moves silently when he wants to, but Nate’s so attuned to him that he feels him approach anyway, like an electrical storm. Which, given Wade’s constantly sparking and regenerating neural pathways, is an apt metaphor. The hair on Nate’s arm stands up when he tries to touch their minds together.

“You know,” Wade murmurs, “this author once made an alien fall in love with a talking raccoon. A pair of panties is pretty tame, Nate.”

The fuck? “What are you even talking about?” Nate demands.

Wade shrugs. “I’m just saying. Could be worse.”

Nate stares at him. “Why are you talking about raccoons?”

“The real question is why aren’t you? They’re vicious little bastards.” Wade steps closer. “Don’t you wanna be my good little girl?” He wraps an arm around Nate’s waist, pulling him in tight before he presses a soft kiss to his lips and whispers, “are you worried you’ll get them too wet?”

Nate takes a shaky breath and tries to lick the taste of Wade’s kiss off his lips. “That’s not—”

“Because you don’t have to worry about that.” Wade ducks his head to kiss under Nate’s jaw, making him tilt his head back. “I already know you will. You can’t help yourself. So just let it happen, Nate. Be my little whore.”

Nate whines and hates himself for it. He’s already thinking about how Wade’s gonna watch him the rest of the night, and how Vanessa will too when Wade leans over and whispers to her that Nate’s a little pervert who’s leaking precum all over girly underwear. She’s gonna make him show her, and god, she probably knows already, doesn’t she?

Wade nibbles his earlobe. “Put them on.”

And Nate does.

—

He barely tastes the pizza. Between the way the satiny fabric rubs on his cock and the movie Russell and Hope finally agreed on (something called The Princess Bride, which Wade seemed very excited about), he can barely focus.

Vanessa knows something’s up; he can sense her amused curiosity from across the room, but he doesn’t dare look at her.

So he watches the movie, which he’s surprised to find that he really likes.

“It’s a classic, numbnuts,” says Russell, rolling his eyes when Nate mentions this. “Everyone likes it.”

Considering the shit Nate’s seen inside Russell’s head, he’s not sure he trusts the kid’s assessment of what’s a classic. But Wade and Vanessa both back him up, so maybe this time he’s not totally full of shit.

“Man, something about this movie always reminds me of my childhood,” sighs Wade. “Just look at little Fred Savage there. Wonder what he’s up to these days. I should hunt him down.”

“It’s good, isn’t it?” Russell asks Hope, who nods around a mouthful of pizza without taking her eyes from the screen.

Nate realizes Russell wants Hope to like him. He studies the kid, swimming past the stupid wannabe gangster attitude and the rage, and sees that Russell’s not fitting in at Xavier’s much better than Wade is. He’s marked as an oddity for going home on the weekends, and aroused the jealousy of some of the other kids for having an adult who cares about him. And Wade, Nate sees. Wade makes him unpopular there. Memories of fights broken up over insults, lectures from Colossus, from Scott and Jean, from Wolverine bubble past Nate’s consciousness. He sees Wade’s disappointed face and feels Russell’s shame secondhand.

That settles it. “I have something to show everyone upstairs,” he says to the room.

Wade’s jaw drops, and Nate actually growls. “Not that, you dumb fuck. I’ve been working on it all week.”

“Not what?” asks Hope.

“Yeah, not what?” Vanessa raises her eyebrows.

“If it’s a sex thing, don’t tell us,” says Russell.

“Okay.” Wade shrugs.

“Should we pause the movie?” asks Vanessa.

Nate swallows. “Yeah,” he says, “why not?”

“But the shrieking eels!” Hope whines.

“Do you really think we won’t come back to the shrieking eels?” Vanessa demands. “Relax, kiddo, it’ll be here when we come back down.”

So they pause the movie where the princess is facing certain death and go upstairs. Nate opens the door to his office and steps aside. “Here.”

The polite confusion isn’t what he expects. “What am I looking at?” Vanessa asks him.

Hope blinks. “It’s a teleporter.”

“Why is there a teleporter in the spare bedroom?” Vanessa crosses her arms.

“To teleport, duh.” Nate’s glad Russell said it, because all Vanessa does is roll her eyes at him.

“I built it to aid in my mission,” he says. “I’ll need to travel all over the world. This’ll make that faster. And before you kids think about using it to sneak out, I’ve got a log on there that records every use, and it’s written in a code I know damn well neither of you can break.”

“You sure?” Hope asks. He gives her a look.

Russell elbows her. “You can’t tell him you’re gonna try to crack it! Didn’t you ever learn to play it cool?”

“Didn’t you?” she shoots back.

“Well, this is gonna save time on the commute.” Wade eyes the teleporter eagerly. “Wanna try it out?”

“Not until I’ve calibrated it for everyone.” Nate crosses his arms. “Just because you could survive a miscalibration doesn’t mean you’d enjoy it.”

“Is that like a transporter accident in Star Trek?” asks Russell. “Like where half of you gets left behind or scrambled?”

“Pretty much,” Hope tells him. “I knew a kid whose grandma died that way. He said it was really gross.”

“Wade got ripped in half before, he’d be fine,” Russell shrugs.

“When the hell did that happen?” Vanessa demands.

“Juggernaut did it,” says Russell.

Hope gasps. “You fought the Juggernaut?” she asks Wade in a hushed voice.

Wade winks at her.

“Yeah, it was awesome. The Juggernaut walked right up to him and ripped him in half. And then later, he threw him into a fence, impaled him right through the head like wham!” Russell mimes the flinging motion.

“It...was pretty much exactly like that, yeah.” Wade scratches his ear.

“So you lost.” Hope sounds less impressed now.

“It’s hard to win without legs,” Russell says fairly.

“The power of friendship can help you win though, and that is ultimately what we used to take him down.” Wade nods. “So remember that when you criticize Fluttershy and Applejack.”

“Domino carried him home like a backpack,” Russell says to Hope; she giggles.

“At least you didn’t have to see him regrow the legs,” Nate mutters.

“You still voluntarily have sex with me,” Wade points out.

Nate sighs.

“Okay, so how do you calibrate the teleporter, Nate?” Vanessa’s looking at it thoughtfully. Her mind is wonderful to swim through; she thinks so logically, leaping from A to Z before most people get to C.

“We’ll have to scan everyone individually so it recognizes you,” he says. “Whole process only takes a few minutes.”

“I wanna finish the movie.” Hope’s grown up with this technology; she doesn’t give a shit about teleportation.

Nate rolls his eyes. “We can calibrate it tomorrow then,” he says.

Wade goes quiet. “This can get anyone out of the house if they had to, right?”

Nate looks at him, and he doesn’t need telepathy to know what Wade’s thinking. “That’s one of the reasons I built it,” he admits.

Wade nods before plastering on a strained smile. “Okay, kids, where were we?”

“Pit of despair,” says Russell. It sound like he’s quoting something; Nate’s suspicions are confirmed when Wade high fives him.

“What? I don’t get it.” Hope complains as they head down the stairs.

Vanessa lingers after, studying the teleporter. “It’s happening,” she murmurs, hugging herself. “You’re actually gonna do this.”

When their eyes meet, there’s something wary in hers. She’s afraid he’ll leave her again, naturally, but under that—far under, nearly buried beneath her layers of protective cynicism—is a sense of wonder. She believes in him.

Knowing that makes him believe in himself. “The kids need a future,” he says.

Her face twists sharply and then she’s in his arms, tucking her face into his neck. Nate holds her, stroking his hand over her hair.

“It’s a lot less daunting with a good woman by my side,” he murmurs.

She snorts. “Everything’s a lot less daunting with me around, and don’t forget it.”

Nate kisses her hair. “I won’t.”

She sighs, pressing a warm kiss to his neck. “I’m not gonna lie, Nate. This whole thing scares the hell out of me, but...I’m behind you.”

“It scares me too,” he admits quietly. “I’ve seen what happens if I fail.”

Vanessa nods and squeezes him before she takes a step back. “As if we’d let you fail. Come on, we’re missing the best movie from the 80s.”

As simple as that. Nate lets her take his hand in her soft warm one and lead him back downstairs. The honorable man with the bad hair is fighting a man dressed all in black, and Hope is enchanted.

It’s a good movie; even Nate enjoys it all the way to the end, when the lovers ride off into the sunset with their new friends and the grandpa closes the book.

Hope frowns. “But why doesn’t Buttercup fight too?”

“Because a lot of people still think that girls aren’t fighters,” says Vanessa.

“Which is bullshit if you’ve ever seen strippers at a wing bar,” Wade adds.

“The less said about Tiffany’s engagement party, the better,” Vanessa reminds him. “Anyway, she’s divorced now.”

“Really? What’d he do?”

“The usual. Cheating, credit card debt. She’s got a good lawyer, it’ll be fine.”

Nate looks at Russell, who shrugs.

“Anyway, not all people are fighters, although Buttercup should have been.”

“It would have been better if she stabbed Humperdinck,” says Hope.

“Well, yeah.”

Nate runs a self-indulgent hand over Hope’s hair. He likes this, the quiet nights with pizza and movies where everybody’s together and he can forget about the world for a little while.

The kids want to stay up late, which is fine until Wade starts to snore on the couch. Vanessa pokes him.

“Wade. The kids can’t hear Ghostbusters over your old man snores.”

“Cable’s older than me,” Wade mutters, but he gets up with a stretch. “Fine. You kids wanna stay up later?”

“Can I?” Hope turns big green eyes on him.

Nate eyes Russell suspiciously and thinks, show my daughter porn and I will ensure you are never in a position to appreciate it again.

Russell’s face twists in outrage. Fuck you! I’m not some fucking pervert, she’s little!

Nate smirks; that’s the reaction he was hoping for. “Good night,” he says mildly, and heads upstairs with Wade and Vanessa.

Wade flops face first on the bed and starfishes out; Vanessa rolls her eyes and goes into the bathroom.

And that’s when Nate remembers they never told her about the tile. “Vanessa—”

The door opens, and silhouetted in the light of the bathroom is the outline of a very annoyed woman. “Wade,” Vanessa growls in a voice that makes Wade sit up guiltily, “do you wanna tell me what the fuck happened to my tile?”

Wade looks at Nate. Nate looks back, feeling a squirm of shame in his gut. “We can explain,” Wade says.

“As entertaining as your bullshit would undoubtedly be, baby, I wanna get to the bottom of this.” Vanessa’s eyes are narrowed.

Nate swallows, reaching out to determine how pissed she really is.

The answer is not very; she’s amused, mostly, and irritated, and slightly horny. She turns her glare on Nate. “Wanna explain yourself?”

God, she knows. Nate’s face heats up. “I...”

“You what? Which one of you fuckers cracked the tile in my brand new bathroom?”

Wade keeps shooting Nate these horrible smug looks, but Vanessa’s not looking at Wade. She’s staring at Nate.

“Did you do it, Nate?” she asks in a deceptively soft voice.

Nate gulps. He can’t look at her. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, ears burning.

“Wanna tell me why you cracked my tile?” The slow, condescending tone makes him squirm.

And fuck, that just makes him even more aware of the awful, filthy underwear he’s got on. Right now only Wade knows, but Vanessa will find out. She’s gonna make him confess and he’s not sure if he’s giddy or terrified.

“I—Wade,” he mumbles, and can’t continue.

“Something Wade did?” she asks, stern but gentle. “What was he doing?”

Nate’s palms are sweating. Wade fucking knew it would play out like this, that’s why he’s grinning like a cat that got a bird as he watches Vanessa interrogate Nate. “He was...I mean, we were fucking.”

“I figured.” There’s that curl of her lips. “What happened, Nate? Was he giving it to you too good?”

His cock is getting hard, stretching the front of the (he can’t think of them as his, he can’t) panties, and he swallows. His mouth is dry. “It was good, yeah.”

“So good you cracked my tile. Honestly, I figured you’d do it the other way around, sweetie. Usually Wade wants to be the one getting his ass fucked. You liked it?”

Nate nods, staring at his feet.

“So what did he do that was so good? Did he say something?”

Nate wants to die.

After he’s quiet for too long, Vanessa snaps her fingers. “Nate,” she says, stern again. “What did he say?”

Wade snickers, the little fucker.

Vanessa shoots him a look and then crosses her arms. “Nate. I’m waiting.”

His breath catches. “I can’t,” he finally whispers. “Vanessa, I’m sorry, I can’t.”

She narrows her eyes. “I think you’d better. You know how expensive tile is to replace? I want to know what he said to you.”

“Jesus, you—don’t fucking—” The lights flicker as Nate tries to find the words.

Vanessa glances at them, then levels him with an unimpressed look. “I’m running out of patience, Nate. What happened to you being so good this whole week?”

“Oh, he’s definitely not a good boy,” says Wade. Nate’s gonna kill him.

He’s been set up. And now they’re both staring at him.

“Nate,” says Vanessa.

“He—he said he was...” Nate swallows and shuts his eyes, feeling his cock throb. “He said he was gonna come in me. Make me clench up and hold it all in there.”

“That’s not exactly what I said though.” Wade blows him a kiss.

Vanessa tilts her head expectantly.

He actually whimpers. His cock is leaking, that fabric doesn’t absorb anything. “Please don’t,” he whispers.

“I’m not gonna ask you again,” Vanessa snaps.

“He called me a girl!” Nate finally breaks. “He said I felt like—like a—”

“I said your sloppy hole felt like a well-fucked cunt,” Wade drawls. “Tell her the rest, pudding cup.”

Vanessa’s eyebrows shoot up, and he can see her trying to smother a grin. “There was more? That’s pretty naughty, boys.”

It’s possible he’s actually going to burst into flame. “He—he said he wanted to make me wear women’s underwear, and—”

“I said princess panties.” Wade’s grinning. “And you cracked the tile because I was touching your clit when I told you I was gonna do it.”

Nate can’t speak. He stares at the floor, barely able to breathe, waiting to see what Vanessa will do.

It’s a moment before she speaks. “Are you wearing them?” she finally asks.

Nate’s hands clench.

“Nate?” Vanessa asks again. “Are you wearing the princess panties right now?”

He nods, closing his eyes.

“Show me.”

He makes a noise that could generously be called a squeak and shakes his head.

“I didn’t ask, Nate. Show me.”

“Oh god,” he whispers as he undoes his pants.

“Shirt first,” she interrupts.

He swallows and pulls off his shirt, dropping it next to him before he slowly—face burning—pushes his pants down and steps out of them.

Vanessa lets herself grin then. “Well, well. You do make a pretty girl. I’m pretty into dick, but I might eat that.”

Nate stares at her, horrified and so, so turned on. “What?” he breathes, confused.

“You heard me.” She looks him over. “I said I’d be willing to eat that cute little pussy, but only if you were good. Bad girls don’t get their pussies licked, isn’t that right, Wade?”

“It’s true,” he says mournfully. “No one’s eaten me out in ages.”

“That’s because you’re a fucking brat who comes too soon,” Vanessa tells him primly. “I bet this is your fault too, isn’t it? Did you wind him up on purpose?”

Wade bites his lip and bats his eyes at her, which makes her snort.

“I knew it. Nate’s a good girl, there’s no way this would have happened without you being a shit.”

Wade looks thrilled. “I probably shouldn’t mention he came without permission, should I?” he asks innocently.

“Nate? Is that true?” Vanessa looks disappointed when Nate nods, shamefaced.

“And I came in him with no condom,” Wade adds relentlessly. “So I really hope he’s not too fertile.”

Nate bites his lip to cover the choked sound he makes at that.

Vanessa’s eyes snap to his face. “Wade Wilson, if you knock him up I swear to god.”

“Oops.” Wade inspects his nails.

As Nate watches, Vanessa crosses over to where Wade is sitting on the bed. She grabs his chin and leans down. “That come was supposed to be for me, Wade. Remember? I’m the only one who gets your come until you’ve pumped a baby into me. So what the fuck are you doing giving it to that slut over there?”

Another noise escapes him, and he tries to shift, to cover himself a little when she looks up sharply.

“Oh no,” she says. “Get over here. Wade gave you something you weren’t supposed to have, and now I want it back.”

Wade’s eyes slip closed, and Nate can see him relax. He remembers Wade like that, pliant and happy. Apparently he needs someone to be a little mean to get him there.

Nate shuffles awkwardly toward where Vanessa’s pointing, and lays down on his back when she nods.

“Now lift up your legs. Hold the backs of your knees and keep them open.” Her tone leaves no room for argument, so Nate does what she says, shutting his eyes against the shame of it.

He’s so exposed like this. There’s no hiding the horrible things, or the way his cock is straining at the front of them. He hasn’t been this horny since he was a teenager.

“You’re gonna fuck me, Wade,” says Vanessa in a low, dangerous voice. “You’re gonna fuck me and you’re gonna fill me up just like you should have done earlier. Understand?”

“Yeah,” Wade sighs. “Anything for you, baby.”

“Damn straight,” she mutters. “Get your pants off.”

Nate cracks open his eye at the sounds of clothing being removed; Vanessa’s skin glows in the golden light as she pulls off her clothes. The plain black bra and underwear she’s wearing seem painfully erotic compared to the girlish monstrosities Nate has on.

She catches him looking and smirks. “Like what you see?” she asks him, unsnapping the bra and dropping it next to her.

His eyes go to her breasts, he can’t help it. That blue rose tattoo draws his eye, makes him want to suck on it before he gets her nipple between his lips.

And then she’s naked, standing over him looking like sin incarnate. Nate can feel the breathy sigh escape him as he looks up at her, but can’t regret it even when she looks amused.

“Slut.” She says it with relish, rolling the word around her mouth like wine. “That’s what you are, Nate. You’re a slut. You’ve already been Wade’s come dump once tonight and you’re already soaking your panties thinking about getting some more.” Her lips curl. “You’re a dirty, dirty slut.”

He swallows, cheeks burning.

“Say it, Nate. Tell me what you are.”

He whimpers. “I’m a slut.”

“What kind of slut?”

“A dirty one,” he whispers.

“That’s right.” She reaches out and strokes a fingertip along the back of his thigh; his muscles twitch, which makes her grin. “I want that come, Nate. It was supposed to be mine.”

Nate bites his lip. She can’t mean what he thinks she means, can she? That’s too fucking filthy, even for her.

Vanessa kneels next to the bed, petting both her hands up the backs of his thighs. Nate squirms under the light touches, digging his fingers into his skin.

“Come on, Wade,” she snaps. “Get your cock in me. I want you to give it to me at least as good as you gave it to this little whore.”

Wade kneels behind her, eager as a puppy. “Told you I have a super penis,” he says as he kisses up and down her neck affectionately. “Little Wade is back in the game.”

Vanessa tilts her head, moaning softly when he uses teeth. “Fuck me, Wade,” she whispers. “I need it.”

Nate stares down at them, framed as they are between his spread thighs. He can see the moment Wade sinks into her, the way she arches like a cat with a satisfied sigh and he groans softly.

Nate knows what it sounds like when they fuck; he’s been listening to it for over a month, furtive and guilty, lying awake on their couch in the old apartment and trying not to hear the soft sighs and muffled laughter and dirty whispers. But this is the first time he’s ever seen it without being directly involved.

Vanessa’s face when she’s getting fucked is a beautiful thing; her lips part, her lashes flutter, her entire face contorts with pleasure when Wade hits a good spot. It makes Nate remember how it feels to be buried inside her, and his cock twitches in the front of the (not his, never his) panties.

Then her eyes open and meet his, and she grins. “And here you are again, Nate. Listening to us fuck and trying so hard not to get turned on.” She grunts when Wade does something good. “Slut.”

Nate shivers, because she’s right, only this time there’s no way to hide that he’s hard and leaking just from the sight of them. He wants so badly for her to touch him.

He’s completely unprepared for it when she does.

Her tongue feels a thousand times more decadent through the satiny fabric, and she keeps her eyes on his face as she licks him. Nate can feel her hot breath on his cock, and the fabric clings cold and tingling where her mouth has been.

Nate knows he’s making awful, breathy, slutty noises, but he’s not capable of stopping, not when Vanessa’s mouthing his cock through these evil, filthy panties and moaning as she gets fucked.

“God, that’s so hot,” Wade whispers. “She’s so easy when you play with her clit, isn’t she, baby?”

Vanessa hums an assent against him, and Nate whimpers. His fingers are numb from holding himself open like she told him to, but he doesn’t dare let go. “Just wait,” Vanessa breathes. “Ten bucks says she screams when I eat your come out of her cunt.”

Nate can’t stop the choked sound he makes as her words hit him like a gut-punch. It gets him wicked, knowing looks from both of them, and then Vanessa hooks a finger into his panties and pulls them to the side.

His balls catch uncomfortably, but it’s not painful, and the discomfort adds something visceral to the horrible thrill he gets from knowing that they’re both staring at his asshole.

“God, Wade,” Vanessa rasps. “You weren’t kidding about giving it to her. That pussy’s been popped.”

Nate shuts his eyes, shame and need churning in his guts. “Stop,” he whispers.

Vanessa smirks. “No.” And she goes in.

He does, in fact, yell at the first swipe of her (hot, hot, wet, slick) tongue across his hole. And then he babbles. “Shit, shit, stop. Stop, I can’t take it, Vanessa, god, fuck, I can’t, I can’t!”

“Aww, pudding cup, you sound just like my favorite porno.” Wade grins and it’s all teeth.

Nate’s panting and whining and he can’t make himself stop; Vanessa’s destroying him, wrecking him with every lick. He’s gonna have bruises on the backs of his legs with the way he’s gripping them, but he can’t let go, he’s got to cling to something or he’s afraid of what he’ll do.

She pulls back just enough to spit on his asshole, and goddammit, Nate squeaks.

Vanessa pauses, raising her eyebrows at him. Checking in, he realizes, and he closes his eyes and thinks please at her. That’s all she needs, and the next thing he knows she’s wiggling that filthy tongue into him.

“I knew you’d love this,” Wade murmurs. His voice isn’t quite steady. “God, I bet you’re so wet right now.”

Nate nods, eyes sliding shut. He can barely breathe; he thinks he might hyperventilate and die, just like this.

It has no right to feel this good; nothing has the right to feel this good, dirty and delicious and everything he’s never let himself have before. She’s fucking him with her tongue, moaning against his skin as Wade reaches around to play with her clit.

“Come on, baby,” Wade husks against her ear, “wanna feel you come for me. Feels so good, baby, you feel so good right now.”

Her moans change pitch when he touches her; they go from deep and soft to high, needy things, and the thought of her being as horny and desperate as he is does something to Nate. His shields are shit right now. It’s no effort at all to slide into Vanessa’s head.

And fuck, he can feel Wade’s clever fingers, hardened with calluses but still so gentle, slide across her clit, playing with it with practiced ease to work her up. He can feel them as well as if it was him Wade was playing with, as if Wade was touching him just there.

He’s gonna come when she does. There’s nothing he can do to stop it; he’s too wound up to retreat into his own head and it’s too good and he loves them, he loves them both so much for making him do this.

Wade speeds up and Vanessa gasps and Nate’s gone, soaking the front of his slutty panties as he comes and comes, riding along in Vanessa’s head as she gasps and pants and groans. Wade’s right there after her, moaning her name.

Vanessa lifts her face out of Nate’s ass, grinning. Her face is wet. “Damn, sweetie, you are some kind of mess.”

Nate can sense her satisfaction, her affection for both of them, and her deep desire to brush her teeth. That last makes his face get hot again. “Yeah,” is the best response he can dig up.

Wade snuggles Vanessa, hooking his chin over her shoulder to grin at Nate. “I can’t wait til you peg him,” he tells Vanessa happily.

“One deviant sex act at a time, baby.” She nuzzles his cheek. “Okay, let me up, I’m brushing my teeth.”

“You can just floss with his panties,” says Wade, but he lets go when she elbows him. “Fine.”

Nate squirms, not sure if he’s allowed to move yet. This position isn’t exactly comfortable without sexual pleasure to distract him.

Wade looks him over. “Fuck, you’re hot,” he breathes, and leans over to lick the front of Nate’s ruined panties.

Nate lets out a soft, shocked noise, jerking. He’s overstimulated and kind of sore, and the sight of Wade between his legs is too much right now.

“So pretty,” Wade murmurs again before he pokes at Nate’s hands. “You can drop the position, pudding cup. That one’s a bitch to hold for too long.”

Nate’s fingers ache on his organic hand, and he groans with relief as he lets his legs fall over the side of the bed. Wade gets to his feet, standing between them, and holds out a hand to help Nate up.

“Come on,” he says cheerfully, “let’s clean you up.”

Nate takes his hand and lets Wade pull him to his feet. Now that the fun is over, he feels disgusting, and the panties are starting to feel embarrassing instead of exciting. “I’m gonna take another shower,” he mumbles.

Vanessa’s gargling something minty in the bathroom; Wade squeezes past her with a hand on her waist and she steps aside. They know how to move together in tight quarters, years of experience creating a rhythm between them that Nate remembers with Aliya.

Someday he’ll move inside their space with that same practiced ease. But right now it just reminds him that he’s a distant third here, and the pang of longing is stronger than he expected.

“Nate.” Vanessa’s voice stops him as he’s about to turn on the water. “If you wanna take those off, I can put them in the hamper.”

Nate stares at her, wordlessly grateful and horribly ashamed all over again. He looks down and nods, and slides the dirty panties down off his hips.

Vanessa holds out her hand, and he gives them to her with burning cheeks. She’s all sweetness now, giving him a gentle smile. “Don’t take too long in the shower,” she says. “Bed gets cold without you.”

Nate nods again and turns away from the sight of her holding the things.

The cool water should be a relief against his flushed skin, but it just makes him shiver. He stands under it anyway, trying not to look at the cracked tile. The fucking thing keeps drawing his eye like an accusation, a glaring reminder that Nate’s nothing but a pervert. He’s supposed to be saving the world, using his knowledge and abilities to improve the lives of millions. Instead he’s acting like a sex toy for a couple who’s trying to have a baby. How’s this really going to work out, ultimately? What happens when they no longer want to deal with being the lovers of a messiah?

Some messiah he is. Nate shuts his eyes. He bets Jesus never had to deal with this shit.

He’s not sure how long he’s been standing there when the shower door opens. Vanessa’s standing there wearing soft-looking pajamas and a concerned expression.

She takes one look at him and shuts off the water. “Okay, enough brooding for you. Come on, I’ll dry you off.”

“I’m fine,” he mutters gruffly.

“You’re not,” she says, “and that’s okay. Come here, I’ve got this.”

He watches her grab a clean towel and hold it out, and when he doesn’t take it she shakes her head and steps close to dry his hair.

“Come on, sweetie. We’re going back to bed and you’re gonna get some nice aftercare. Because you look like you’re about to hit the wall.”

“What?” The air is freezing; he can’t stop shivering.

“Yep, here come the shakes. Experiencing feelings of shame or worthlessness?” Her tone is light, but he can sense the genuine concern under that.

How did she know? Nate peers at her. Sometimes he could swear she’s telepathic, the way she can read him so well. Telepathy would suit her better than shapeshifting.

Vanessa stops and blinks at him. “Say what?”

He’s still too entangled with her. Nate hasn’t accidentally thought things at people since he was a kid. “Shit, sorry,” he mutters. He fucked up. He keeps fucking up around this beautiful, capable woman, and someday she’s going to realize he’s just a perverted shitbag who ruins everything he touches—

“Okay, that’s enough of that,” she interrupts him. “Come on, we’re ditching this pity party.” She hangs up the towel and leads him naked into the bedroom.

Wade’s posed himself seductively on the bed, but he sits up when he gets a good look. “What are we looking at?”

“About an F4, but we can get it down if we take action.” Vanessa sits Nate down and he lets her. He’s not sure there’s anything he wouldn’t let her do to him.

Wade takes his arm and pulls him down, winding around him like one of those octopus things Nate’s heard about. They’re extinct in his time—what used to be his time—but he had a stuffed animal when he was little. He thinks it came through with him when they sent him ahead.

Fuck, even his parents couldn’t deal with the messes he makes.

“Oh sweetie.” Vanessa plasters herself against his back. “We’ve got mommy issues. This is getting upgraded to an F5.”

“Shit,” says Wade, and shoves his cheek against Nate’s. “Time to call Helen Hunt and Bill Paxton.”

“Bill Paxton’s dead,” Vanessa says.

“Goddammit,” mutters Wade. His breath puffs warm against Nate’s skin. “Guess you’re stuck with us.”

Nate closes his eyes and noses Wade’s neck. He doesn’t want anyone else, just them. He wants to be good, good enough that they’ll love him like he loves them. He wants to be enough, for once in his life, just as he is, without the cloud of other people’s expectations hovering around him.

“God, Nate.” Vanessa presses her lips to the nape of his neck. “That’s what tonight was about, baby. You can be anything with us. We still want you.”

“Are you two playing brain footsie?” Wade’s leg twitches against Nate’s.

“Yeah.” Vanessa sounds pretty relaxed about it.

“Can I play?” He kisses Nate’s ear. “What are you thinking, Nate?”

Nate grunts. “Can’t,” he mumbles. “Your brain’s all electric.” He can’t think of any better words for it.

“I’m not sure how to take that,” says Wade.

“Just is.” Nate likes how Wade smells when he’s clean. Warm skin and home. “You’re always healing. Making new brain paths. Can’t really read that. Just get flashes sometimes.”

“Huh,” is Vanessa’s response to that.

“Are you serious?” Wade picks his head up. It moves him away from Nate, which is terrible. “That’s awesome. No wonder Jean’s never busted me for thinking about her boobs!”

Nate actually recoils and Vanessa reaches over him to swat Wade.

“That was not the most helpful response to that, baby.”

“But this explains so much! Xavier hates me because he can’t tell what I’m thinking!”

“And that’s great,” says Vanessa patiently, “but how would you like it if the guy who just fucked you started talking about looking at your mom’s tits?”

Nate’s muttered “she’s not really my mom” is drowned out by Wade’s “what?”

“Holy fuck. Holy motherfucking shitballs. You’re Scott and Jean’s kid? What the fuck?” Wade peers at him, squinting like he’s searching for a family resemblance.

Nate retreats as far back as he can into Vanessa’s tits. He doesn’t get far.

“Wade,” snaps Vanessa, “back it up.”

“Oh.” Wade blinks down at Nate, who’s glaring now.

He hates that they know. He hates that Wade is going to go back to that school and look at his parents and grin to himself that he’s had their precious baby boy bent over and sobbing like a whore. He doesn’t want this to be something for Wade to hold over their heads.

“Baby,” Vanessa whispers, wrapping her arms around his chest. “No one’s gonna make a big thing out of it. No one.”

But Wade already has. At least he sees that Nate’s unhappy about it and stops. “Hey, sorry,” he says softly. “I didn’t know it was a thing.”

Nate swallows. “I never said anything.”

“But how the fuck did that happen? I mean, you’re cool and they’re both—”

“—not.” Vanessa cuts off whatever he was gonna say.

“I don’t—” Nate looks away. “I don’t actually know them. They never raised me.”

“What?” Wade frowns.

“Okay, I didn’t know that,” says Vanessa.

Nate looks up at Wade, wanting his big lanky body wrapped around his own again. It must show on his face, because Wade pulls him back into his arms and tucks Nate’s head under his chin.

“Wanna talk about it?” he asks.

Nate doesn’t, but he knows they’ll have questions. “We can. What do you want to know?”

“What don’t I want to know?” Wade gets a thigh between Nate’s. “You never did tell me which Sharknado they’re on in the future.”

“Movie industry collapsed,” Nate mutters. “I think they were on nine when it went under.”

“Amazing.”

Vanessa hooks her chin over his shoulder. “Nate,” she whispers, “I meant what I said to you last week. To me, you’re a sexy nerd, no matter who your parents are.”

Nate chokes a laugh. “I’ve seen Terminator now.”

“And you didn’t like it, you weirdo.”

“How can you not like Terminator?” Wade’s hands are so warm on Nate’s body. “Linda Hamilton is so fucking hot in that movie!”

“She’s okay,” Nate mumbles. Vanessa’s prettier.

“That’s so cute,” she says, and he blushes.

“Brain footsie again?” Wade looks intrigued.

Vanessa kisses his ear. I want you just the way you are, she thinks. I like that you’re dirty and shy and submissive in bed. How you fuck isn’t who you are, so try not to be too ashamed of it, okay?

Nate twists around, desperate to kiss her, and she catches his mouth with her own. It’s messy; he has to reassure himself that she brushed her teeth earlier (and her amusement at that bubbles up pleasantly in his mind), and he makes an embarrassing noise when she nips his lower lip.

She’s not angry at him anymore. He’s been forgiven.

“Oh hell,” she mutters, breaking the kiss and resting her cheek on his shoulder. “Those feelings of inadequacy are something we’re gonna work on.”

“Shit, you too?” Wade squeezes him. “Low self esteem buddies!”

“Jesus,” mutters Nate.

“We’ll work on it,” Vanessa assures him around a yawn. “I don’t know about you boys, but I’m exhausted. Cuddle the shit out of him, Wade. I’m falling asleep.”

Wade can follow orders too when he’s motivated, and he curls a hand around Nate’s lower back. Small gesture, but it makes Nate feel safe and protected. Not a feeling he’s used to.

“You know,” Wade murmurs after Vanessa’s started snoring (and she does; it’s not remotely ladylike), “I wouldn’t leave you alone with her if you weren’t the best fucking person I know.”

Nate can’t speak; that casual declaration of faith isn’t something he knows how to respond to. It’s overwhelming, that Wade believes in him so completely, when no one else ever has. The idea of him, sure, Aliya had believed in that. But she’d done it while constantly rejecting the reality of him.

There’s no pretense here. Wade and Vanessa know what he’s like. They know he’s rash and determined and kind of a secretive bastard. They know he likes their stupid sense of humor and kinky sex. They know, in short, that he’s just a person.

And they believe in him anyway.

Nate tilts his face up for a kiss, because nothing else can convey what he wants to say to Wade right now.

Wade’s mouth brushes his own. It’s enough.

Chapter Text

The domestic bliss lasts most of the weekend. They visit Central Park on Saturday and get ice cream, which might be Nate’s new favorite thing after maple syrup. He and Hope try each other’s and debate the merits of chocolate vs. vanilla while the others laugh at them.

“You know those are the most basic flavors, right?” asks Russell as he takes a lick of some orange colored nightmare.

“Not for long,” Nate counters. “That shit’s going extinct in fifty years. We’ve never had it.”

“I like vanilla the best,” Hope decides.

“That’s what your dad thought too,” says Wade. Vanessa elbows him.

Russell makes a face. “Gross.”

“Can we ride in the cart thing?” asks Hope, staring at the horse with undisguised avarice.

“No, because we aren’t tourists.” Wade ruffles her hair until she slaps his hand away. “But we can go ask to pet it.”

“He’s trying so hard,” Nate murmurs to Vanessa as Wade takes Hope over to the line of exhausted looking horses.

She glances at him. “He loves kids, you know. And he loves you. Of course he wants your daughter to like him.”

Nate swallows. Wade hasn’t said the words, but it feels true. He watches as Wade holds his hand out to the horse first, determine it’s safe, and gives Hope the go-ahead. And he watches his daughter’s delighted squeal when the horse rests its velvety nose in her hand, lipping at her palm in search of treats. Even the driver, who hates people bothering his horse most of the time, is kind of charmed.

It’s a good day. And it’s a good night too; they eat at the dining room table for the first time. Vanessa and Wade cooked, that baked chicken that Hope likes, and the five of them sit around the table talking about nothing and everything. For the first time, Nate feels like they might actually be coalescing into a family.

That lasts until Sunday morning, when Hope kicks Russell over a fight for the cereal and spends half the day in her room sulking after Nate tells her off for it.

Nate sighs from where he’s watching Russell play some hyperviolent video game on the couch. It doesn’t seem like Hope’s coming down any time soon, so might as well let the kid gut some CGI Nazis.

“No one sounds like that when they’re being disemboweled,” he points out.

“Yeah?” Russell doesn’t look up. “What do they sound like?”

Nate considers. “Juicier.”

Wade and Vanessa went upstairs to fuck again. They’ve been going at it like rabbits trying to get pregnant. Last night was particularly fun, but after an embarrassing mishap on Vanessa’s face, Nate’s back to not being allowed to come. He’s opted to sit out this round.

“Gross.” Russell kills a few guys and then starts wandering around. He’s quiet for a few minutes. “Hope says they want to have a baby.”

“Yeah.” Nate isn’t sure why the kid’s talking to him about this.

“You cool with that?” Russell asks casually.

Oh. Oh, hell. Nate takes one look at the seething mass of insecurities in Russell’s head and says, “they aren’t going to replace you, Russell. They want another kid, not to trade you out.”

“Get out of my brain, old man.” Russell glares.

“Didn’t even need to look in there to see what you’re thinking.” Nate glares back. “They wanted to have a baby since before any of us came along.”

“Yeah, but—” Russell makes a face. “Isn’t that weird for you? Like, how are you gonna know it’s not yours?”

“Jesus.” Nate closes his eyes. “You don’t actually want me to answer that question.”

“Ugh, fine. But still. We’ll be all left out, won’t we? With them playing happy family and all.”

“Think, dipshit,” snaps Nate, “are they the type of people who’d take you in just to give you back once they got a new kid? Wade intercepted a goddamn convoy to protect you from me, he’s not gonna quit you now.”

“Shut up!” Russell puts down the controller and clenches his fists; they’re starting to glow. “You think you know me? You think you know shit about what I’ve been through?”

“What, you telling me someone gave you back before?” Even as it leaves Nate’s mouth, he can see the memories.

Russell flinches like he’s been slapped and turns back to his game.

Someone. Someones. Russell’s a weird, unlikeable kid. Hell, Nate struggles to like him most days. Turns out there are a lot of families who were good with the idea of him and not the reality.

Nate wishes he didn’t relate so strongly. “That many, huh?” he asks quietly.

Russell nods, shoulders tense. He doesn’t turn around.

“You think I’d let them?” he says.

That gets the kid to turn around. “What?”

“You heard me. You think I’d let them get rid of you, knowing what I know?” Nate raises his eyebrows. “Keeping you well-adjusted means I never have to worry about you turning evil.”

“I wasn’t evil,” growls Russell. “And now that I know about that shit, I’m not likely to go do it, now am I?”

“How the fuck should I know? I’ve changed too much to predict now.” Nate shrugs. “Look. They didn’t rearrange their whole lives to make room for me. They did it for you. There’s no way they’re gonna send you back, and even if they did, I wouldn’t let them. Feel better now?”

“Fuck you,” Russell mutters. But he drops it.

When Hope comes back downstairs, Russell turns off the game without Nate having to ask. He doesn’t look at her, even when she sits down next to him.

“Sorry I kicked you,” she mumbles.

He grunts. “You’re a brat.”

“And you’re a jerk.”

Nate watches this exchange in puzzled silence.

Finally Russell sighs. “Wanna play Mario Kart?”

“What’s that?”

Russell puts on a brightly colored racing game. The cuteness is apparently a cover for the cutthroat strategy involved in sabotaging your opponent.

Hope loves it. She and Russell play and he kicks her ass and they trash talk, even after Wade and Vanessa comes back downstairs. That’s how Nate learns that this is also a spectator sport.

By the time they have to stop to get ready for Wade and Russell to go back, Nate’s not sure who’s more sadistic, Vanessa or his own daughter. Wade’s creative and chaotic, and Russell’s blindly violent, but the girls are vicious.

Dopinder comes in to eat with them this time, bearing bags of Indian takeout that Vanessa pays him cash for. It’s spicy enough that Nate’s nose runs, but everyone else seems to like it.

“You gonna eat the rest of your vindaloo, Daddy?” asks Hope.

Nate sniffs. “No, go for it.”

She snarfs the food off his plate like a hungry little animal, and he has to wonder how the hell she can take the heat.

“Sorry, Mr. Cable. I forgot to order white people spicy.” Dopinder looks contrite.

Russell laughs, the little turd, and Wade shakes his head.

“Racism rearing its ugly head again. Dopinder, I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“Shut the fuck up, Wade.” Nate reaches for his beer.

“Are you racist?” Hope frowns.

“‘No,” snaps Nate.

“I’m sorry to tell you this, kiddo, but your dad shot a close personal friend of mine who was African-American,” says Wade.

“He was absolutely white,” Nate tells her. The beer isn’t helping.

“Didn’t that fucker stab you in the hand?” asks Russell.

“That doesn’t excuse racial violence,” Wade says primly.

“Jesus.”

“So I was thinking we can go shooting this week, if that is alright with you, Mr. Cable.” Dopinder looks like a floppy puppy across the table. “I have found a disreputable place that will allow us to practice with illegal firearms.”

Nate stares at him. “Sure,” he finally says, and gives up on the beer. Bread is good. He can fill up on bread.

“Awww, I wanna play with illegal firearms.” Wade pushes something orange around his plate. “They never let me have any fun at the school. Something about lawsuits and corrupting the children.”

Shit. Nate forgot to calibrate the teleporter. “Wade, come upstairs with me.”

“Pookie, you know I’d love to, but I don’t think Little Wade is ready to be touched again.”

“Not that, you stupid anal bead. I need to calibrate the teleporter to your biological signature.”

“Oh, that’s what the kids call it now? Well, okay.”

“What’s an anal bead?” Hope asks, and Nate sighs.

“It’s a thing people put in their butt to feel good,” Vanessa tells her.

“Butts are gross!”

“That’s not what your—” The rest of Wade’s sentence is cut off by Nate grabbing his face and hauling him out of his chair.

“We’ll be back down in a few minutes,” he tells Vanessa.

She looks amused. “Take your time.”

Nate drags Wade up the stairs by his face, finally letting him go at the top. “Can you not tell my daughter about our sex life?” he snaps.

Wade makes a show of dusting himself off. “Relax, pudding cup. Now, is that a teleporter in the bedroom or are you happy to see me?”

Nate sighs. “Come here.” He pulls up the necessary settings on the teleporter. “I need some of your genetic material for this.”

“See, that sounds like some medical kink to me. Is there something else you wanted to share with the class?”

“Just spit, for fuck’s sake!” Nate rolls his eyes.

“Oh. That’s not as exciting as what I was picturing.” Wade wanders closer to the device. “Where do I spit.”

“Here.” Nate shows him, and watches patiently while Wade moves his mouth around to work up some spit. It takes awhile. “For Christ’s sake!”

“I get performance anxiety, okay? Stop looking.”

“Jesus.” Nate turns away. “Now can you do this?”

“We’re good.”

So Wade spits, and Nate submits it for analysis. He calmly slaps Wade’s hand away from the machine the few times it wanders too close to something important, but otherwise just waits while it memorizes Wade’s biosignature. “There,” he says when it beeps. “To activate it, say ‘bodyslide by one.’”

“Sounds dirty.”

Nate rolls his eyes again. “It’s got a global range, so you can use it at the school,” he explains.

Wade pauses. “So I can come home,” he says.

“Yeah. Figured that might help things. You know, with the baby.” Nate clears his throat.

Wade kisses him then, soft enough to make something flutter in Nate’s chest. “You’re great, you know that?”

“Whatever. Let’s finish dinner before they really do start to think we left to go screw around.”

Wade kisses him again. “I’m game if you are.”

“No.”

—

He wakes up early the next morning and takes a moment to watch Vanessa sleeping next to him. Her dark hair spills over the pillow as she snores softly, and he feels a rush of affection for her. But the world’s problems won’t wait, so he gets up and goes out for a run. It’s nice, the relative peace in which he can jog. No marauding bands of mutants waiting to ambush him in the shadows.

A quick shower when he gets home, a kiss to Vanessa’s cheek, and a reminder to Hope to behave while he’s gone and he enters his office.

There’s a massive crisis going on in a country known as Yemen. Millions of people are starving while other countries play politics over a civil war. Sectarian violence, symptomatic of international tampering in the region. Nate can’t fix that, but he can make them stop bombing each other.

“Bodyslide by one,” he says, and he steps into a palace.

It’s the middle of the night in Riyadh, and Nate stretches his telepathy to mask his presence from the armed guards outside the door. The crown prince won’t be getting any help tonight.

He makes his way through lavish rooms until he finds the man he’s looking for, asleep in a bed that makes Wade and Vanessa’s look spartan. “Your Highness. Wake up.”

The man bolts upright, no small feat at his age, and stares at Nate with a mix of confusion and fury. Not unreasonable, since he woke up to a strange man in his bedroom with a big fucking gun pointed at his face.

Nate smirks. “My name is Cable, and we need to talk about those drone strikes.”

—

Now that the Saudi-led coalition has stopped bombing civilian targets in Yemen and the Saudis are personally sending humanitarian aid to alleviate the famine there, Nate feels okay going back to the US.

It’s early afternoon when he emerges onto the front lawn of Xavier’s school. He’d prefer to skip the introductions, but he’s armed to the teeth and dropping in like that wouldn’t be well received.

Feels kind of stupid to ring the doorbell, but that’s what he ends up doing.

It’s Negasonic Teenage Warhead who answers. “Oh. You.”

“Is the professor around?”

“He’s in a meeting. But you can see your boyfriend before I launch him into space.” She steps aside to let him in.

Nate sighs. Somehow he’s not surprised Wade told the whole planet about them.

“I thought you had taste,” she adds, looking him over dubiously.

Nate scowls at her. “He’s great in the sack.”

“Wow. I could have died happily without knowing that.” She starts walking, leading him through the mansion. “So how's Vanessa? Still too cool for Wade?”

“She’s fine.” Nate’s curious, he can admit that. The school and the X-Men featured pretty heavily in the lore he learned growing up. Seeing it in person is an experience.

The glamor lasts until they get deeper into the school and he hears the sounds of raised voices. They round a corner to see Wade gesturing wildly—wearing a button-up and slacks of all things—at none other than Scott Summers and Jean Grey. She has her arms crossed coldly and Scott is gesturing back.

Fuck his life.

Negasonic smirks at him. “He’s doing great here. At least he’s stopped jacking off into soap dispensers.”

Nate doesn’t ask. “Wade?”

Wade breaks off mid-sentence, and Nate would be lying if he said he wasn’t charmed by the way his whole face lights up. “Nate! Did you bodyslide over here just for little old me?”

It never sounds dirty except when Wade says it. “I came to see Xavier, actually.”

“You’re Cable?” Scott’s eyeing him in a way that makes Nate wonder what the hell Wade’s been telling people.

Jean tilts her head, which makes Nate tighten his mental shields. She blinks, but there’s no way he’s letting her into his head. He prefers existing, and there are things she can’t know if that’s going to happen.

Nate nods to Scott instead. “Yeah, I’m Cable. It’s...” He hesitates, knows it’s weird but can’t help it. He’s looking at his father for the first time in his life and it’s a little overwhelming.

Hope has his mouth. It’s startling now that Nate sees it, and her hair is all Jean, that phoenix-flame red. There’s something surreal about seeing his daughter in these strangers.

They’re looking at him strangely, and he can see something horribly understanding in Wade’s face.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he finishes lamely.

Wade gives him a thumbs up behind their backs.

Nate sighs. “So what did he do?”

Wade’s protests are silenced by a truly impressive stare from Jean. “I thought we’d established that smoking in the bathrooms was not allowed. This is a school, Wade.”

Wade scowls. “How was I supposed to predict the wind?”

“Yeah, that’s not really your strong suit,” smirks Nate, remembering Wade’s ill-fated airdrop with his X-Force team.

“How dare you take their side, pudding cup? I thought you loved me.” Wade sniffs.

Scott looks at Nate. Nate clears his throat.

“Oh my god, this is so awkward,” says Negasonic. Nate forgot she was behind him. “I don’t even know why, but keep going.”

“Zip it, Sailor Uranus,” snaps Wade. “Just because you’re the only canon LGBT representation in the Marvel movies doesn’t mean this story’s about you. Shoo.”

“I can’t believe you’re into that,” she tells Nate, and walks off.

“You only showed up so the author can tag you and attract lesbian readers!” Wade yells after her.

Nate wonders what the fuck that’s supposed to mean. He turns to see her flip him off before she rounds the corner.

Which means he’s alone with Wade and his parents. He turns back to see that Scott and Jean are clearly wondering how to proceed here.

“You really shouldn’t smoke in the bathrooms,” he tells Wade.

“Oh, sure, inject common sense into the situation.” Wade rolls his eyes. “As if that’s gonna work.”

Nate sighs. “I’ll get you a present if you quit,” he says after a bit.

That gets a better response. “Oooh, what are we talking?”

“I’ll let you shoot my big gun.”

“Are we talking literally, or—?”

“Jesus.” Nate shakes his head, trying not to laugh. Of course Wade makes sex jokes in front of his parents. Nate’s not sure what else he expected. “Yes, Wade, literally. Now pretend to be normal for a little while.”

Wade practically bounces over to throw his arms around him. “For you, pudding cup—and by you I mean a chance to fire that ridiculously sexy gun again—anything.”

Nate slips an arm around Wade’s waist, wrinkling his nose at the heavy smell of smoke and piss. Hope really isn’t kidding when she tells Wade he stinks.

He can’t deal with Wade and his parents at the same time. “Do you know when Xavier will be free? I think he’ll be interested in what I have to say.”

He addresses Jean, because Scott’s staring at his hand on Wade’s hip like it’s personally offensive. She sighs. “I think his meeting ends soon. I don’t suppose you’d like to wait?”

She’s thinking that anyone who can handle Wade can buy them some hours of peace. Nate doesn’t even need to scan her mind to know that.

I’m not hiding anything. I’m a little unclear why you are.

Time travel, he thinks back apologetically. It’s nothing personal.

That makes her smile. “Fair enough.”

“Heh, brain footsie,” Wade mutters. “Or is it weird to call it that in this particular context?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty weird,” Nate assures him.

“Think the author gets sick of all the italics? The HTML is a pain in the ass.”

Nate pats his hip. “I can wait.” He’s done what he needs for today.

Wade actually nuzzles him. He’s like an excited puppy, and Nate hates the fact that he knows it’s a testament to how fucking unhappy he is here.

Part of him wants to talk to his parents, see if there’s any common ground on which they can build a relationship. A bigger part of him wants Wade to take a fucking shower. But asking Wade to leave now would send a message Nate refuses to send, so he puts up with the stink for the moment.

“Why don’t we show you around,” suggests Jean. “I understand you have a mutant daughter with active powers at home, so it wouldn’t be a bad thing to learn a little more about the school.”

“The school’s famous in my time, just like the X-Men,” Nate tells her. “I’d be honored if you’d show me around.”

That pleases Scott; he’s rapidly revising his opinions on Nate based on Jean’s response to him. For a leader, he takes a lot of his cues from her. Then again, his mother is a formidable woman, even if she hasn’t reached the height of her power yet.

“So which professor are you going to see? Stewart or McAvoy? I think they finally axed Stewart after Logan came out, but it’s hard to tell. God, what even are the timelines here anyway? You haven’t been born, but Dark Phoenix is happening, and the less said about X3 the better, am I right? Don’t you have like, three siblings and at least one evil clone in the comics? What am I marrying into?”

“We’re not married,” Nate points out. His parents are staring.

“Yeah, sure, not the point. The point is, I have questions about this continuity.”

“Um, what is he talking about?” Jean asks politely.

“No idea. The other day it was raccoons.” Nate gives Wade a look.

“None of you appreciate the fourth wall,” Wade sighs. “It’s a good thing you’re cute.”

“Did you want to see the classrooms?” asks Jean with the air of a woman grasping at straws.

Nate feels for her. “Sure.”

Wade stays plastered to Nate’s side for the entire tour. After about three classrooms, his hand drops to Nate’s ass. When every attempt to move it proves unsuccessful, Nate leaves it there, watching Scott get more and more uncomfortable. This clearly amuses Wade, and Nate’s finding himself getting annoyed by the steady stream of—there’s no other word for it—bitchy commentary flowing out of Scott’s head.

He finally snaps. I can fucking hear you, you know.

Scott freezes.

He may be an annoying butt plug, but he’s my annoying butt plug. Be an ass on your own time.

Jean stops mid-sentence, her mouth dropping open.

Scott stares at him. “I—what?”

He’s here to make life better for a kid who’s been handed nothing but shit in an effort to keep him from turning into the monster that murdered your granddaughter. And he’s succeeding. You can put up with some bullshit.

Jean’s hand flies to her mouth. The last time Nate saw green eyes that wide, it was when Hope first discovered Wade’s scratch-and-sniff markers.

“Oh my god,” she whispers.

Wade blinks. “What? What’d I miss?”

“Jesus.” Nate sighs, stepping away from Wade. “Fine, okay. I told you I was from the future. The truth is, I’m your son. My name is Nathan Christopher Charles Summers.”

Wade laughs. Everyone stops to look at him.

“Dammit, Wade, your middle name is fucking Winston,” snaps Nate.

“It’s so bad,” Wade giggles.

Nate closes his eyes. “Eventually, you’re going to have to send me forward in time to a place where this—” He holds up his techno-organic arm— “can be contained. I grew up there, and came back here to try to save the world from itself. That’s why I want to speak to Xavier.”

“Oh my god,” Jean whispers again, and then Nate finds himself being hugged by his (sort of) mother for the first time he can ever remember.

“Awww, it’s a Kodak moment,” says Wade, and puts an arm around Jean too.

She stiffens and wrinkles her nose. “Wade, please.”

“Can I call you Mom or is that weird?” Wade asks her.

“You need to stop touching me right now.”

“Wade,” says Nate softly, and Wade lets go.

Jean stares up into his face, searching out the traces of herself just like he’s doing to her. She rests small hands on his upper arms—hesitantly, but like she can’t bring herself to let him go. “Nathan,” she says softly. It feels important, the way she names him. You’re my son Nathan.

He nods.

He sees Scott in his peripheral and turns, letting the techno-organic eye flash warningly.

“Jean, it’s true?” Scott asks in a hushed voice. When she nods, he goes back to staring at Nate. He doesn’t try to hug him, which Nate appreciates.

“You have a daughter,” Jean says, still in that soft, awed voice.

Nate nods. “Her name is Hope.”

“Yes, I know.” Jean throws a distracted look over her shoulder. “Wade’s been talking about her.”

Scott keeps his face neutral.

Nate cranes his neck to look at Wade, who’s peering through the nearest classroom door. “Wade’s been great with her, actually.”

“Really.” There’s a world of disbelief in Scott’s voice.

“I wouldn’t be raising her with him and Vanessa if he wasn’t,” Nate meets his eyes, making it very clear that he doesn’t want to hear what Scott might have to say about that. He told himself he wouldn’t be ashamed of them, and by god he’s going to stick to it.

No matter how awkward Wade makes things.

“—papa can you hear me...” Wade sings absently, waving to some of the kids in the classroom.

Scott makes a noise like a pissed off cat. “If he’s trying to—”

“It’s from a movie,” Nate explains.

Scott stares at him. “I know what it’s from,” he says slowly.

“Really?” Wade grins. “I didn’t think you appreciated Barbra’s genius.”

“What I don’t appreciate is your butting in on what should be a family matter,” snaps Scott.

“Well, I’m dating him,” Nate points out.

“Like hell you are, pudding cup. You haven’t taken me out once. It’s just sex and childcare with you.” Wade pouts.

“I bought you ice cream this weekend.”

“You did not, that was Vanessa’s money. You don’t have a job.”

“I stopped the Saudi drone strikes in Yemen,” Nate snaps.

That shuts Wade up. “You what?”

“The Crown Prince is pretty reasonable when you make a good enough argument.” Nate smirks at the impressed looks that cross Scott and Jean’s faces.

“You used the big gun, didn’t you?” Wade grins.

“I might have.”

“I’m so turned on right now.”

Nate snorts. “Behave and I’ll let you fire it at the high setting.”

“Oh pumpkin, you know what I like.” Wade bats his eyes.

Nate catches Jean’s bemused eye and clears his throat. “Anyway. We’re working on the job situation.”

“If you need anything, just let us know,” says Scott gruffly.

Nate blinks. True, everything is communal by necessity in the future, but he’s a little taken aback by how quickly they’ve claimed him as their own. On one hand, it’s everything he wanted from his parents—a warm welcome and a sense of belonging. On the other....they’re strangers. Nate wouldn’t claim to know them any more than he’d claim to know Betty White if he met her on the street.

“Thanks,” he says after a moment.

He means it, thinks Jean. I know we aren’t really your parents, not in the way you need or that we want, but we would like the chance to get to know you and Hope.

He believes her.

Wade gasps. “We should have a family dinner! Vanessa just got that big dining room table, you know. Gotta break that baby in, Nate, what do you think?”

Nate pauses, because for all that Wade is being especially annoying today, he’s got a point. Still, he can’t help but remember the reaction he got the last time he brought a family member into Vanessa’s home without consulting her. “I’ll talk to Vanessa and we can set something up.” Credit where it’s due, after all. “That’s a good idea, Wade.”

Wade beams at him.

Jean’s watching the two of them closely and Scott is wondering about the state of Deadpool’s home and whether it’s safe to eat there. Nate wishes that wasn’t so understandable.

“We would like that,” says Jean firmly, which tells Nate she heard Scott’s less than charitable thoughts too.

Nate considers telling them that Wade’s different at home, but fuck that. That sounds like apologizing for him.

But there is one thing he can do, and when Wade wanders back to them, Nate hooks an arm around his waist and pulls him close. “Wade,” he whispers in his ear, “I wanna talk to my parents alone for awhile. You should go shower and then when my meeting with Xavier is over I’ll find you and you can sit on my face.”

Wade pulls back enough to squint at him. “You drive a hard bargain, mister,” he says. “Do I still get to fire the gun?”

“Sure.”

“Awesome.” Wade smacks a kiss to his cheek. “See you later, pudding cup!”

They watch him go for a long moment before Scott says, “so how did you two meet?”

Nate was hoping no one would ask that. “I broke into the Icebox to kill Russell Collins,” he finally says. “Wade stopped me.”

There’s a long silence. “That’s not....quite what I had envisioned,” says Jean.

Nate shrugs. “He’d murdered my family. I wasn’t thinking that clearly.” The disappointment he feels radiating off both of them is worse than he expected; then again, they’ve never seen Russell as a grown man, never seen the destruction Nate knows he’s capable of. They just see the angry round-faced boy who tries too hard to be liked.

Nate prefers that version too, although if he thinks too hard about Russell his head starts to hurt. Hope adores him, even if she does kick him a lot, and is already starting to bond with him like a sibling. Nate’s not sure how that makes him feel, so he refuses to examine it.

“Russell is a boy with a lot of potential,” says Jean after a moment.

“In the right environment, he could thrive in spite of everything in his past.” Scott eyes Nate.

“Yeah, that’s what I figured out,” Nate admits. He’s feeling generous so he’ll pretend that wasn’t a dig at Wade.

Jean studies his face. “I’m glad,” she finally says.

Nate likes her. He’s not looking forward to what the future holds for her.

She suddenly tilts her head. “Professor Xavier can see you now.”

Nate pauses as a voice in his head says, I’ve been looking forward to meeting you, Nathan.

Likewise, he thinks back.

The office Jean leads him into is old-fashioned, lavishly furnished in a tasteful sort of way with rich wood paneling and leather furniture. Nate’s never seen anything like it outside of books before. But it’s the man behind the desk that commands Nate’s attention.

Charles Xavier is an imposing man, although he’s not unapproachable. He regards Nate with a warm smile and an outstretched hand as he wheels around from behind the desk. “Nathan. Wonderful to meet you at last. I’ve been hoping you would visit. Ever since I became aware of you I knew you were a man worth knowing.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” says Nate.

“The news has been interesting as of late,” Xavier continues. “I can’t say breaking into a monarch’s bedroom and threatening him at gunpoint is a strategy I entirely approve of, but it is certainly effective.”

“That monarch has the blood of hundreds of thousands of people on his hands,” Nate says reasonably. “I wouldn’t feel too sorry for him.”

“I don’t.” Xavier looks sharply at him. “But if word gets out that you’re a mutant, you understand how that will look to the wider world.”

“I think threatening world leaders is only one of many strategies I intend to employ when it comes to cleaning up humanity’s mess,” says Nate. “Most of them aren’t that extreme. I’m no Magneto. I have no intention of ruling over anything or setting mutants over humans or vice versa. What I’m going to do is make it possible for everyone on this planet to work toward a better future than the one I lived in.”

Everyone in the office is silent for a moment. Finally, Xavier says, “that sounds an awful lot like playing god, Nathan.”

“No, not at all. In fact, I want to stop the people who are playing god. The ones who are destroying the planet and hoarding resources while others starve. So many of the anxieties and prejudices that you’re dealing with in this time stem from economic instability, manufactured by a select few.”

“And you can fix that,” says Scott flatly.

Nate turns to him. “Yeah,” he tells his father, “I can.”

“You know you sound like a supervillain when you talk like that, right?”

Wade’s leaning against the door in sweatpants and the Bea Arthur t-shirt he stole back from Nate last weekend. His feet are bare and he smells amazing.

“No I don’t.” Nate frowns, and then looks around.

Jean bites her lip. “You do, a little,” she admits.

“Shit.” That’s not what he wants. “I want to work in conjunction with the X-Men. Mutant rights aren’t my primary concern, but they’re important. We can help each other help other people.”

“We don’t condone violent solutions, Nathan,” says Xavier softly.

“Of course you do. You just keep them as a last resort. I feel the same way.”

“I don’t,” Wade says helpfully.

“We know,” snaps Scott. “That’s why you shot two people in the head on live tv.”

“Child abusers aren’t people, Scott,” says Wade.

“That orphanage was full of systemic abuse against mutant kids,” Nate points out.

Scott stares between them.

“Look.” Nate shakes his head. “I grew up with war, and famine, and hunger. I’ve seen where we’ll be without intervention and I want a better future.” He pauses. “Every kid here deserves a better future than the one we’re currently headed for. I ended a humanitarian crisis today without killing a single person. My intentions are pure. Let me prove that to you.”

“I believe your intentions, Nathan,” says Xavier. “But you know what they say about that.”

“I’m here to lead you out of hell, not into it.”

“You’ve seen one future,” Jean says. “Who’s to say that there isn’t another one out there that’s worse?”

“There’s always a possibility,” Nate grants her. “But the alternative is doing nothing. With the knowledge I have, that would be criminal.”

“They stopped after nine Sharknadoes,” Wade says. “And George R. R. Martin never finishes the last Game of Thrones book. Somebody’s got to do something.”

There’s a pause. “Thanks, Wade,” says Nate.

Wade flashes him a brilliant smile. “I mean, come on, guys. This is Nate. He knows what he’s doing, so trust him, okay? He’s like the last person who’d ever become an actual supervillain.”

Nate would be lying if he tried to claim Wade’s easy confidence in him didn’t warm his heart. Unfortunately, it won’t get him far with Scott and Jean, who consider Wade’s endorsement worth precisely dick.

He looks at Jean. If he can convince her, Scott will fall in line, and Xavier trusts her. Mother. Please believe me.

It’s manipulative, but it works. Jean’s face softens and she looks at Xavier. “I sense nothing malicious about him.”

“Nor do I,” Xavier admits. “But Nathan, you are walking a very fine line.”

As if Nate isn’t very fucking aware of that. Xavier’s expression changes slightly as that thought gets through. “I’ll be careful,” he says, to be polite. No mutant gets far in this world without Charles Xavier’s blessing.

He wants to take Wade home to Vanessa. Hours spent going rounds with resistant and terrified Saudi royals and generals have left him exhausted, and this meeting didn’t go remotely like he’d hoped. All he wants now is Wade wrapped around him and Vanessa’s fingers in his hair.

For a second, he can feel that longing echoed in Wade’s thoughts, but it’s gone as quickly as it came.

“Didn’t you say you were gonna let me shoot the big gun?” Wade asks. “I mean, if we’re done here.”

That’s enough to break the tension in the room, and Nate huffs a laugh. “I did say that, didn’t I? Mind if we borrow the sports field?” He addresses the last to Xavier. “I can contain the blast, if you’re worried.”

Xavier looks nonplussed. “Go ahead,” he finally says.

Wade gives him a thumbs up. “So you went with McAvoy, huh? The author likes Stewart better, you know.”

“I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about,” Nate tells him pleasantly.

“That’s okay. I still love you.”

Nate glances at him. “Are we saying it out loud now?”

Wade blinks. “Pudding cup, you moved your kid in with us after a week. Lesbians move slower than you, so yeah. I think we’re saying it.”

“A week?” Scott asks weakly.

Nate pauses. God help him, he’d nearly forgotten they had an audience. “Well,” he says with a smirk as he opens the door to the office, “when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with someone, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.” He glances over his shoulder.

Jean’s lips are parted and she’s frowning, and Scott’s staring wordlessly.

“Baby,” says Wade happily, “you had me from hello.”

—

The big gun is a hit. And so is the sex afterward, when Wade whispers in Nate’s ear that shooting this thing gives him a semi, and does Nate want to feel?

Nate does.

So he takes Wade back to his room, and Wade makes his phone play music to cover the sound of their fucking, and Nate finally gets Wade where he wants him, squirming and gasping to orgasm on Nate’s face.

Wade’s even nice enough to lick him clean afterward. Nate can’t say he’s ever had anyone lick come off his face, but he can get used to it.

“You really ought to get someone to work on your sales pitch for the world saving thing,” Wade tells him as he’s getting dressed. “Maybe hire a PR person. Like that one chick from the comics who acted as your beard to keep the basement dwellers from getting weird about our big gay love fest.”

Nate pauses with his shirt halfway over his head. “About half of that made sense.”

“Just think about it. You don’t want to piss off the X-Men.” Wade stretches and reaches for his cigarette case.

“You aren’t supposed to smoke in here,” Nate tells him, pulling his shirt all the way on.

Wade winks. “Cover for me?”

So Nate makes sure the smoke floats harmlessly out the window. “You and Vanessa should figure out her cycle,” he says thoughtfully. “Better odds of getting pregnant that way.”

Wade stretches, loose and relaxed. “You mean instead of just fucking when we can and hoping it sticks?” He eyes Nate affectionately. “You already know when it’s gonna happen, don’t you?”

“I’ve got a general idea.” Nate smirks.

Wade’s smile fades. “And it’s gonna be okay? Ness and the baby are gonna be fine, right?”

“Yes.” Nate looks at him seriously. “They’re both gonna be just fine.”

Wade swallows and nods.

Nate crosses to the bed and kisses the top of his head. “I can help her figure it out,” he tells Wade. “Then you can come home on the right days.”

Wade closes his eyes. “Superbaby,” he murmurs happily.

Nate snorts. “I’ll give her your love.”

“Thanks.”

Nate steps back and gives Wade one last look. “Bodyslide by one.”

Chapter Text

“So I’m just not gonna know where you are,” says Vanessa flatly the next morning.

Nate grips his coffee cup. “I’ll keep you as informed as I can, but if I’m following situations, they’re going to evolve.”

“While I stay home and play the little woman and raise your kid,” she says. “I don’t fucking think so.”

They’re on the couch watching the news; all the channels are going on about Saudi Arabia’s decision to broker a peace between the main factions in Yemen and the mysterious mutant who forced the issue.

“You said you believed in me,” Nate says.

Vanessa pauses with her cup halfway to her lips. “I’m gonna give you one chance to apologize for trying to manipulate me, and then I’ll get angry.”

Nate scowls. “Sorry.”

She studies him. “You told me you wanted my support. So let’s work together. Just because I’m not the jet-setting, guns blazing type doesn’t mean I can’t help you.”

“I didn’t mean to imply that,” he tells her. “I’m trying to work out a balance.”

“Usually it’s the woman’s career that suffers with the work-family balancing act.” Vanessa sips her coffee. “We have to figure out the job situation before you can save the world. I can teach some pole classes while I’m pregnant. Just because they won’t let me strip with a belly doesn’t mean I have to do nothing. Waitressing brings decent tips.”

“You get better money for the other stuff,” he says quietly.

She raises her eyebrows. “You mean the prostitution? Yeah, but that’s out until after the baby comes. Well,” she pauses. “I could probably still work with a few clients. Couple guys only like to get stepped on, and I’ve got one who just wants to be human furniture for an hour while I rest my feet on his back and masturbate.”

Nate frowns. That’s a concept he’s not sure he hates.

Vanessa smirks like she can tell. “I’m assuming you have an actual long-term plan for saving the world.”

He takes a sip of coffee. “I’ve got priorities, yes.”

“Nate.” She turns more fully to look at him. “You need a long game. Are you telling me you don’t have one?”

“I have one.” He scowls again. “I have to assemble a team. I want to re-form X-Force. Wade, Domino, and I would be a good start.”

“Great. Except Wade’s with Russell and we’re gonna need money by the end of the month.”

Nate sighs. “Thought it was up to you whether I started taking jobs or not.”

“Strike two, Nathan. I said I would talk to Wade about it because we communicate with each other.” Her expression is hard when he looks over.

“You didn’t tell me you talked about it,” he says.

She huffs. “You didn’t ask either.”

He’s not sure why they’re arguing, but he doesn’t like it. “So do you want me to take a job?”

Her nostrils flare. “Yeah, you’re gonna have to.”

What’s wrong? he asks her.

Vanessa’s grip tightens on her cup. “Took a pregnancy test last night. Nada. It’s stupid, but...I was sort of hoping.”

“Vanessa.” Nate puts an arm around her shoulders and sighs when she leans into him. “There are things we can do,” he says. “Wade can come home more often, and we can figure out your cycle to maximize your chances...”

She peers up at him. “You’re really invested in this.”

“Well, yeah.” He blinks.

“Pregnancy kink or do you just really like kids?”

He sighs. “I have a kid, so obviously I like them. And this will make you and Wade happy.”

“So no pregnancy kink.”

“Jesus. I’ll see if Domino wants to work a two-person job and what’s available.”

“And don’t forget you agreed to take Dopinder shooting this week.” She snuggles against his metal side even though Nate’s pretty sure it’s not comfortable.

Nate grunts. But he does call Domino later that day to see about work.

“I was just about to call you,” she says. “Got an offer on breaking up a human trafficking ring in Atlanta. I guess the client’s son is involved and he specifically wants him dead.”

“And you thought of me?” Nate asks her.

“Well, you do have really big guns. Seems like the kind of job for it.”

“How much?” As if he can afford to be picky.

“Six million. Half up front, half upon completion. Standard stuff.”

“When do we leave?”

—

They leave early the next day. Domino comes over as soon as she learns about the teleporter, because even though she always gets upgraded to first class, she’s apparently fine with skipping the flight.

“I like what you’ve done with the place,” she says to Vanessa, looking around the kitchen. She smirks at Nate. “Rent’s due, huh?”

“Oh, he pays that in sexual favors,” says Vanessa. She hands Domino a red Coke can from the fridge.

Domino’s eyebrows shoot up.

Nate takes a sip of water and avoids everyone’s eye.

“So all that weird shit in the cab was you flirting,” says Domino finally. “That makes sense. Mazel tov.”

Vanessa grins. “Thanks.”

Domino eyes her. “He as high maintenance as he looks?”

“Yep. But the sex is fantastic.”

“I’m standing right here,” says Nate.

“Daddy, is there any more of the good cereal?” asks Hope, wandering into the kitchen dragging her stuffed unicorn behind her. She stops when she sees Domino. “Oh. Hello.”

“Hi.” Domino waves and then gives Nate a bemused look. “Brought your daughter here, huh?”

Nate grunts, watching Hope go to the pantry and look through the cereal boxes, discarding several before she hisses in frustration.

“You said you were gonna get some of the good stuff yesterday!” Hope rounds on him with an accusing stare.

He remembers her gratefully eating squirrels a month ago. “Just eat the Raisin Bran.”

“No, that’s gross! Only you and Wade like the Raisin Bran.”

“Fiber is important,” says Vanessa sagely, and Domino snickers.

Hope turns big eyes on her. “Can we have pancakes, please?” she asks hopefully.

“We can have Eggos,” Vanessa counters.

Hope narrows her eyes. “With syrup?”

“Only way to have Eggos.”

“Deal.” Hope looks pleased with herself.

“Oh my god, you’re so domestic. This is adorable.” Domino leans on the kitchen island, watching them like they’re fascinating zoo specimens.

Hope squints at her. “Are you Vanessa’s friend?”

“I think I’m Wade’s, but Vanessa’s cool too. I’m actually working with your dad right now. Name’s Domino.”

“I’m Hope.” She gets herself a plate and climbs onto a stool. “What’s the job?”

Domino glances at Nate, not wanting to explain anything too messy to someone else’s kid.

“Human trafficking,” he tells her. “Slavers. We’re stopping some of them in Atlanta.”

“Are they mutants?” Hope asks.

“Not that we know of,” Domino tells her.

Hope chews her lip. “Well, that’s good. Be careful, Daddy.”

Nate smooths her hair back and kisses the top of her head. “I will. Be good. I love you.”

She hugs him, and he lets himself hold her for a moment, but there’s a job to do, and he straightens up.

“Kick ass,” Vanessa tells him softly.

“I’ll contact you if there are complications,” says Nate, tapping his temple. I love you.

Her face does something he can’t interpret. Nate can sense the storm of emotion those words call up in her, but she nods and swallows.

He won’t ask her to say it back. It’s enough that she feels it, even if she’s afraid.

“Hey.” Her voice stops him at the doorway to the kitchen, and he turns. “Kiss me like you miss me.”

His breath catches. “Come here.”

It’s easy to catch her in his arms and lift her up. Her legs wrap around his waist as she kisses him, and he can’t help but squeeze her ass even though he knows Hope is looking.

“Be safe,” she whispers against his mouth, just before he sets her down.

“I promise,” he tells her, and then he leads Domino upstairs.

“You two are cute together,” she tells him.

He grunts and opens the door to his office. It only takes a few minutes to calibrate the teleporter to her biosignature, and then they go through.

He’s never been to Atlanta before, but this trip isn’t likely to make him want to come back. The obscenely large houses on their tiny lawns offend his sensibilities.

“Give it a chance,” Domino tells him, leading him through the gated neighborhood where these bastards are holed up. “This is a cool town, mostly.”

“Why do all the streets have ‘peach’ in the names?” Nate asks.

She glances at the closest street sign. “Fuck, man, it’s Georgia. The peach is their thing.”

“Do they know about the peach emoji?” he asks with a smirk.

Domino gives him a flat, unimpressed look. “I suspect a few of them do,” she says.

“We’re attracting attention,” he says after scanning the area.

Domino throws a lazy glance at a woman with a blonde ponytail who’s jogging with a stroller. The woman quickly looks away. “I’m black and you look like you stepped off the cover of Soldier of Fortune. I’d be worried if no one noticed us in a place like this.”

“We have gated communities in the future, but that’s because there are literally small armies wandering around hunting for resources.” He shakes his head at the wastefulness of it.

“Sounds great,” says Domino wryly.

“There’s a reason I brought Hope back here.”

Domino stops in front of a house and crosses her arms. “This is it.”

Nate looks around. It’s the middle of the day and there are two cars in the driveway. “Not a lot of security,” he says.

“They’re focused on keeping people from getting out,” she tells him grimly. “But you can bet they’ll notice us if we stand here long enough.”

He quickly scans the compound. “We’ve got roughly a dozen,” he tells her. “And about thirty women.”

“Six each,” she says with a feral grin. “Let’s do this.”

In the end, it’s almost too easy. They go in the front and Nate snaps the neck of the guy on door duty. Domino charges past him, gun already up to shoot the two who come running when the first guy yells. It’s not the same seamless way he moves with Wade, but they still work smoothly together. Domino goes up, and Nate goes down into the basement.

The wave of terror and misery almost knocks him on his ass before he even gets downstairs. They all heard the gunshots but they have no idea what it means for them, and Nate’s nearly overwhelmed by the maelstrom of emotion that they’re collectively feeling.

It distracts him enough that the guard stationed down there can jump him. Nate feels a knife skitter off the techno-organic mesh on his chest before he uses his telekinesis to hurl the guy into the wall. He finishes the job with a bullet to the head.

More gunfire upstairs. Nate’s left Domino with the heavier workload. He ignores the screams and sobs and charges back up; he can help the women when the rest of the bastards are dead.

Domino’s fighting three of them on the landing when he gets upstairs; as he watches, one guy’s gun blows up in his hand, making him scream before her kick to the head downs him. Nate shoots the closest one, dropping him and earning a grin from Domino.

“Thought you ditched me for the easy part!” she calls cheerfully. The last guy actually shoots himself in the face.

“Never.” Nate goes down the hallway on the left, flinging doors open with his telekinesis and clearing rooms as he goes. In the room on the end, he has to pull a man off a crying woman. He snaps the guy’s neck before he can do more than blubber some excuse.

The woman scrambles to cover herself, staring at Nate with wild, horrified eyes.

Nate pauses, studying her. I’m sorry this happened to you. Are there more of them?

Her eyes get even bigger and she grips the blankets tighter, but she shakes her head. “Just...just like twelve,” she whispers. “Sometimes...they’d get others...” She shudders.

“That’s shock setting in,” he tells her kindly. “Get dressed, wrap up. We’re calling the police once we’re done here.”

“You’re not a cop,” she whispers.

“No.”

“Cable!” calls Domino. “We’re clear! Let’s get this started!”

He groans. Collecting trophies is beneath him, usually, but he has no reputation and the client wants proof of death. “Stay in here,” he tells the woman. “It’s ugly out there. When the police come, cooperate with them. But you never saw my face. Okay?”

She nods, and he leaves. He keeps the door open so she won’t have to deal with the cops slamming it open and scaring her any more than necessary.

They take heads. It’s the easiest way to ID the men they’ve killed. Fingers, for the few that had their faces destroyed by a lucky headshot. It takes about a half an hour of messy, smelly work. At least Nate’s not the only one suffering.

“I always get blood down my bra,” Domino mutters balefully. “You’d think they’d squirt less with no blood pressure, but no.”

“I found a chunk of brain tissue in my boot once,” he offers. “No idea how the fuck it got there.”

“Piece of skull in my asscrack. What even.”

That makes him snort.

Domino calls the police anonymously as he’s stuffing the last of the heads into the plastic duffel bag they brought along for exactly this purpose. They stick out at weird angles, but everything fits. When she hangs up, he says, “bodyslide by two,” and they’re back in his office.

“You need a floor mat,” Domino says, looking down at their gory footprints. “She’s gonna kick your ass.”

“Bodyslide by two,” Nate sighs again, and takes them to meet their client’s appointee.

The three million in cash weighs a lot less than the heads, and Nate’s very happy to trade for it. But first....

“You got a place where we can wipe our shoes?” he asks.

The lackey blinks. “Oh. Sure. Bathroom’s down the hall.”

So they go and clean their boots, and Nate steals some paper towels to wipe up the floor, and they go back.

“Hydrogen peroxide,” Domino tells him, stepping over their bloody footprints from before. “Thanks for carrying my share home.”

“Yeah.” He reaches out with his telekinesis and brings the cleaning supplies upstairs.

“Accio whatever,” she says with a smirk, and Nate rolls his eyes.

“Harry Potter’s still around in my time.” Nate pours some hydrogen peroxide down and begins wiping the floor. He’s lucky the handoff went quick; the stains haven’t had a chance to set.

Domino goes through the cash while he cleans, counting it, unrolling rolls, and dividing it out once she determines they haven’t been cheated. “Girl can’t be too careful,” she tells him.

“Nope,” he agrees.

“This was fun,” she continues. “We should do this again.”

He glances up at her. “I’ve been thinking about forming X-Force as a real team,” he tells her. “You’re a hell of a fighter.”

“Yes, I’ll join your boys’ club,” she says. “But only if you and Wade can keep the weird violent flirting to a minimum. The sexual tension in that cab was stifling.”

Nate clears his throat. “I’ll be professional.”

She actually rolls her eyes and pushes to her feet. “Not sure I believe that, but I know you’ll make a good effort. You got a shower I can use? There’s still blood on my tits.”

That’s something Nate isn’t going to think about. “Down the hall on the left. Should be clean towels in there.”

“Thanks.” She vanishes around the corner.

Nate throws away the bloody paper towels and sits back on his thighs, looking around. This job will keep them afloat for awhile, and keep the pressure off Wade to go back to work. That’s good.

“Daddy?” Hope’s voice from the doorway makes him look up. “You’re back.”

“Yeah.” He smiles at her. “I’d hug you, but—”

“You’re gross and you smell worse than Wade,” she says.

He snorts. “Yeah, I’m gonna shower as soon as I finish this.”

She gets quiet. “You freed the people they captured?” she finally asks.

“We called the authorities,” he says, getting to his feet. “They’ll be able to help them better than we can.”

“That’s good.” Hope looks down. “Vanessa says Domino should stay and eat with us.”

“Good idea.” He’s starving and he bets Domino is too.

“And she says Dopinder texted. You can go play with him tomorrow.”

He winces at her phrasing. “Adults don’t play, they hang out.”

“That’s not what Wade says.”

“Wade’s talking about sex. Which I’m not ever having with Dopinder. So we’re hanging out.”

She frowns. “Oh.”

He chuckles as he passes her and heads immediately for the shower. Feels good to be clean, even if scrubbing blood out of his pubes is an experience he could have lived without.

He comes out wearing a pair of Wade’s sweatpants and a t-shirt that says ‘Rent’ on it. It’s probably from something that’ll make Vanessa laugh at him, but it’s soft.

“Wow,” Domino says when he gets downstairs. She and Vanessa are lounging with Hope and some chips and dip around the island. “Way to rock the gay house husband look.”

He frowns.

Vanessa snorts. “Just this once, Wade can be the gay house husband.”

“I’m not gay,” Nate points out. He gets a beer from the fridge.

“No, but you are sure not looking straight in that getup,” Domino points out. She looks delighted.

“Your ideas about sexuality are quaint,” he tells her. “You telling me you’re exclusive to one gender?”

“I’ve got a set of parts I prefer to work with, yeah.” She looks amused.

Hope wrinkles her nose. “Can we please go back to talking about The Princess Bride? Sex is boring and gross.”

Nate snorts into his beer, and Domino grins. “I love this kid, Cable. She’s been telling me that Inigo should have been a girl because there weren’t enough girls in the movie. Have you seriously not shown her the Powerpuff Girls yet?”

“She and Wade are working their way through My Little Pony,” Vanessa tells her.

“Of course they are.”

“Do you watch it?” Hope asks eagerly.

Domino pauses. “I’m more of an MMA kinda girl.”

Hope visibly droops. “Oh.” She swirls a chip through the dip. “Did you wanna watch it?”

Domino looks at Nate for help, but she made fun of his clothes, so he avoids her eye and tries not to laugh. “I guess we can watch a few episodes before the food gets here,” she says weakly.

“Great!” Hope leaps off the stool and runs to set up the tv.

Domino gives him a look. “You suck.”

“Have fun in Equestria,” he tells her with a smirk, and grins broadly when she stalks into the living room.

Vanessa comes up behind him and slips her arms around his waist, resting her chin on his shoulder. “So are you like Wade?” she asks softly, letting her hands slide down his abdomen. “He’s always horny as hell after he gets back from one of these things.”

Nate catches her hand before she can get a grope in. Behave when Daddy has friends over, he thinks, stroking a thumb across the inside of her wrist.

He can hear her sharp breath in his ear and he waits to see if she’ll play along.

Slowly, she leans up to bite his earlobe, raising goosebumps all along his skin. “And what about once we’re alone?”

Then I’m gonna take you upstairs and we’re gonna play our special game.

Her breath catches, and the way she swallows seems loud in the quiet room. “Please not tonight,” she whispers, even as she damn near shakes with anticipation. “Daddy, you know we can’t tonight.”

Nate turns and kisses her, resting a hand on the small of her back. Keep telling me no, baby girl. Maybe someday I’ll believe you don’t need this.

She whines in the back of her throat. “Just don’t come in me,” she breathes. “You can’t. You know what would happen if you did.”

His eyebrows go up. She wants to get fucked, but that’s not how things work anymore. Nate’s fine with it, understands why things are the way they are, and has mostly stopped fantasizing about fucking her cunt. After all, there’s so much other filthy shit they can get up to. But just for now, he lets himself want it. And he lets her feel how much he wants it.

Vanessa shivers. “We can’t,” she whispers again.

He gets a hand in her hair, gripping just tight enough to make her gasp. “Good girls don’t tell their daddies what to do,” he breathes against her lips. “I’ll come in your hot little pussy if I feel like it, and there’s not a damn thing you can do to stop me.”

She bites his lower lip, and when she pulls back her face is slack with lust. “You’re as bad as me,” she says with a shaky laugh. “Tease.”

He grins and lets her go. “You started it.”

The next kiss is an affectionate peck. “Not sorry.”

Neither is he, and he keeps up the game all through dinner. It’s a little tricky, keeping Hope from seeing the thoughts he’s sending Vanessa, but Nate’s used to shielding himself from Hope.

So he imagines sinking into her cunt, and the noises she would make as he fucked her deep and slow, and grins when she squirms just a little in her chair.

“So I can see why Wade likes My Little Pony,” says Domino. “Since he’s basically a nine-year-old girl mixed with a theater lesbian on coke with a bunch of guns.”

“Accurate,” Vanessa tells her. “Except for the theater lesbian part. That’s just how he dresses. Otherwise he’s all gay boy who likes musicals.”

Nate looks across the table at Hope, who shrugs. None of this shit makes sense to her either.

“You’ll have to tell him hi for me. He texts me memes sometimes, but that’s it.”

“He’s busy with Russell,” says Nate.

“And Colossus?” Domino’s eyebrows go up.

Nate tries not to scowl. From the amused looks on their faces, he’s not too successful.

“Not as busy as maybe he’d like,” says Vanessa diplomatically. “And that’s okay with Nate.”

Domino snorts.

She sticks around awhile after dinner and they divide out their shares. Nate loads hers into the backpack she brought with her and she shoulders it with satisfaction. “Nice working with you, Nate. Text me when you’ve got news about X-Force.”

He nods and watches her leave.

From there it’s a countdown to Hope’s bedtime. She’s happy enough to watch tv and color for the rest of the night, leaving Nate free to think dirty things at Vanessa. So he imagines bending her over the counter in the kitchen and pulling her hair, or holding still and making her bounce on his cock, or fucking her in the shower.

She keeps throwing him heated glances that make him grin. You’re so bad, she thinks.

Hope turns around and gives them a disapproving stare. “Are you flirting?” she asks.

Nate tries not to look guilty. Vanessa just raises her eyebrows and says, “yep.”

Hope wrinkles her nose.

“Aren’t you supposed to be practicing your shielding techniques?” Nate asks her.

“You just don’t want me to know about all your sex stuff!”

“No,” Nate says, “I don’t. That’s private and it’s not appropriate for someone your age.”

“So quit thinking about it.”

“No,” he snaps, and then feels his face heat up.

Vanessa snorts and he glares at her. “Look, kiddo,” she says. “Everyone’s thoughts are free. Most of us can’t control what pops into our brains, and even if we can, it’s like when you’re in your room with the door closed. Would you want someone peeking through the cracks in the door, or did you close it for a reason?”

Hope frowns. “Peeking is gross,” she says.

Vanessa grins. “Then quit doing it. If you snoop in people’s heads, you’re gonna find stuff you don’t like. It’s hard enough to be a kid without having everyone else’s bullshit all over you.”

Hope eyes her. “You’re talking about boundaries,” she says slowly.

“Yep. Allowing people to live together since forever.”

Nate wants to cheer; Hope’s been snooping around in people’s heads since she could understand language, desperate to learn everything she can about the world, and having Vanessa back him up on the boundary issue is fantastic.

“Daddy always just says it’s wrong.”

“Well, you said it yourself. Peeking is gross. If people wanted to share their thoughts, they’d say what they were thinking.”

“But sometimes people are lying,” Hope points out.

“Sometimes they are, but usually they act shady when that happens. You can tell a lot of times without checking their thoughts.”

“Really?” Hope sounds skeptical.

Vanessa smirks. “How do you think I can tell when you don’t brush your teeth?”

Hope’s eyes widen.

It works to keep her out of anyone’s head for the rest of the night, leaving Nate free to keep winding Vanessa up.

She’s waiting for him after he finishes saying goodnight to Hope, sitting on their bed in a too-tight cartoon t-shirt and a pair of pale blue cotton underwear. The effect is anything but childish, and Nate takes a moment to just look her over.

“You been getting all worked up, thinking about what I’m gonna do to you?” he asks her in a low voice.

She takes a slow breath. “I know I shouldn’t, but...”

He has to talk her around, that’s part of the game. Seduce her, give her permission to accept what she wants. Nate gets it all too well. “You can’t help yourself,” he says soothingly. “It’s okay, girl. Daddy knows what you need.”

Vanessa watches him pull his shirt off, her whole body perked with interest. Her mind is racing, jumping from one fantasy to the next trying to determine what she actually wants him to do to her. The top contenders are a thorough fucking or barring that, him fingering her with his metal hand while he whispers filth in her ear.

He wishes he knew just what it is about his techno-organic arm that turns her and Wade on so much, but he’s not complaining.

Nate has his own ideas about how the night should go. He pushes Wade’s sweatpants down and smirks at the way her eyes drop to his cock. “Didn’t think I raised such a needy slut,” he says.

“Daddy...” she bites her lip.

“Lose the shirt,” he tells her.

She pulls it over her head and drops it next to the bed, shaking her hair back to show off her tits.

Nate wants to trace that flower tattoo with his tongue, maybe tease her nipples with his thumbs while he kisses over her heart and fucks into her slowly until she’s a sobbing mess. Lets her see that thought and grins at the way she shivers.

“You can’t come in me,” she reminds him, biting her lip; she loves dangling the forbidden in front of him. “It would be so bad.”

“Told you I can do what I want.” He sits next to her on the bed. “Open your legs.”

Vanessa closes her eyes but does it, spreading her legs until she’s splayed wide open. She’s wet; he can see the fabric of her underwear soaked through.

He trails his hand up her thigh, smothering a grin at the way her leg twitches. “You want me to touch you,” he whispers.

“No,” she breathes, twitching her hips up to meet his hand. “Daddy, not there, please.”

He stops just short and gets a filthy look from her.

It makes him grin. “Baby girl needs a good fuck, don’t you?” he asks, leaning close to nose along her neck. The way she quivers, just a little, really gets him going. “You need something stuffed deep inside you, filling you up just the right way.”

She squirms, trying to edge his hand toward her cunt. There’s not much attempt at subtlety, but he raises an eyebrow anyway.

“You’re so fucking wet for me. Time to quit pretending you didn’t come here for Daddy’s cock.” He shoves his hand into her underwear then, rough until he actually gets his hand on her. Once he finds her clit he touches her gently, because that’s how she likes it. The phrase ‘button-masher’ has floated across her thoughts more than once, and never as a compliment.

Vanessa gasps and makes a token effort to close her legs. A growled command and the image of him pushing her legs open is enough to make her stop that shit with a breathy whine. “Shit,” she whispers.

“Watch your mouth,” he murmurs, petting her with his fingertips. She’s so wet he glides over her skin easily. “Don’t you wanna be my good girl?”

She moans softly, so he slips a finger inside her. “I might just have to have this after all,” he whispers against her ear, working his finger in and out. She’s not the only one who likes dangling the forbidden, and if she’s gonna play this game then so can he. “You’ve got the sweetest little cunt I’ve ever tasted. So tight and wet. Maybe I will fuck you here.”

“Oh god.” She closes her eyes, hips working. She’s fucking riding his finger, so he gives her another one.

“That’s it,” he says. “I want that hot little pussy clenching on my cock.”

She turns her head to kiss him, hard and sloppy, and he’s about to press a third finger into her when his phone rings.

They both freeze and then look at it. Rudely, it rings again.

“Fuck it,” Vanessa grumbles, but Nate grew up in a war zone, and communication means survival. He’s reaching for the phone with the hand not occupied with Vanessa.

“What?” he snaps.

“Nathan?” asks Jean Grey politely.

He’s never pulled his hand out of anything so fast; Vanessa actually swats him and crosses her legs. “Yes,” he says, feeling his boner dying. “It’s me.”

“Hi.” She sounds relieved. “I got your number from Wade, so.”

He has a moment to be annoyed by that before she continues, “anyway, I was wondering if you would like to get together for dinner. We talked about it, but I don’t want life to take over and then find out six months have gone by before we get together.

Nate’s touched, honestly. It’s...nice, that his (sort-of) mother is trying to build a relationship with him. He just desperately wishes she’d called an hour earlier. “I agree,” he says, looking at Vanessa. “We can’t let that much time go by.” It’s Jean.

She knows? Does everyone know?

“She wants to get together for dinner with me,” he tells Vanessa, and then to his mother he says, “you know, things are still pretty unsettled here. I’m not sure when—”

“Tell them to come over next Saturday,” Vanessa sighs. “Wade and I can make the baked chicken Hope likes.”

Nate pauses, studying her. She doesn’t look thrilled, but he’s touched nonetheless. He’s gonna have to make this up to her somehow. “Vanessa just invited you over. You free next Saturday?”

“Yes,” says Jean a little too eagerly. “That would be great, yes. Next Saturday is wonderful.”

“Come over around...?” Nate looks at Vanessa.

She mouths ‘three’ at him, so that’s what he tells Jean.

“We’ll be there,” Jean says warmly. “Let me know if you’d like me to bring anything.”

“I will,” says Nate.

There’s an awkward pause. Then Jean says, “well, I’d better let you go. Have a good night, Nathan. I’ll see you next weekend.”

“Bye.” He hangs up and stares down at the phone.

“We just got cockblocked by your mom,” says Vanessa flatly.

“Yeah.”

“Who called instead of texting like a normal person.”

“She’s not a normal person,” he points out. “Besides, what the fuck do we know about normal?”

“You yanked your fingers out of me at lightspeed, dipshit. That was unnecessary.”

“My mother was on the phone,” he snaps. “It was very fucking necessary.”

Vanessa looks down at his now soft dick and frowns. “Dammit.”

“Hey.” He leans over to kiss her slow. I’m not too old to get that back.

She snickers against his lips. “Why? You can’t fuck me with it anyway.”

“Can’t I?” He kisses his way down her neck, tasting her skin and making her sigh.

“You could put it in my ass, I suppose,” she says thoughtfully, and Nate’s brain shorts out.

“I. Uh.” He clears his throat, feeling himself flush as she grins at him. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

“God, you’re so innocent,” she tells him happily, rolling him onto his back and climbing on top of him. “Like a fresh new baby pervert just learning how to kink.” She leans down to bite the edge of the metal on his chest. “So corruptible.”

Nate smooths his hands over her hips. “So get on with corrupting me, girl.”

“Well, get the lube, Daddy.” She grins and it’s all teeth. “You can’t fuck my naughty hole without it.”

Nate groans and uses his telekinesis to bring the lube to his hand; she’s squirming in interesting ways and it promises to get his dick hard again in no time. “I knew you wanted this, you filthy slut.”

“How can you say that about your sweet little girl? I thought you raised me right.” Vanessa wiggles her ass.

So he smacks it, just enough to make it jiggle, and grins when she lets out a throaty moan. “I ought to take you over my knee,” he says. That would be fucking hot, watching her squirm as he spanks her until her ass is flushed hot and pink, and then he could reach between her legs to feel how wet she is.

“Oh shit,” she whispers. “Rain check? You need to play with my ass right the fuck now.”

When she puts it like that. He gets the cap off the lube and pours some down her asscrack, which makes her hiss “that’s fucking cold, Nate, what the hell!” and kisses her to muffle the noise she makes when he slides his fingers down after it.

“Been awhile?” he asks her with a quirked eyebrow; there’s barely any give when he presses his finger against her hole.

“Wade likes to bottom,” she says with a smug grin.

“You’re the only woman I know who likes fucking more than getting fucked,” he tells her, circling her hole lightly.

“That’s because you’re innocent, sweetie. There are a lot of dirty women out there.”

“I like the one I’m with,” he says. “Come up here, baby girl, I can make you relax.”

“You just have a thing about facesitting.” But she slides up his body until he can get his mouth on her clit.

Then she relaxes beautifully, sighing as he lazily licks her. He gets a finger in to the second knuckle and begins to move it in time with his tongue, and he’d be lying if he said the soft little gasps she keeps making don’t flatter his ego.

Is that how you need it, baby girl? Does Daddy kiss you just right?

Vanessa rolls her hips in response, knocking his jaw a little, but he’s dealt with worse. “Please, Daddy,” she gasps, “Daddy please...”

You wanna come already? Wanna give me a taste? He’s more than fine with that. If he has his way, she’s gonna come more than once tonight.

“It aches,” she whines as he presses a second finger against her. She wants him to push it in hard, but he’s a little too worried about hurting her for that. “Daddy, it aches when you lick me there...”

Nate seals his lips around her clit and sucks, prompting a squeal that goes straight to his dick. He fucking loves this, the way her thoughts go hazy and incoherent, and the way she pulses on his tongue right before she comes is enough to get him rock hard and leaking.

He pushes the second finger in smoothly while she’s fucked out and basking in afterglow, and it makes her moan deep in her chest. She rolls her hips weakly, so he fucks his fingers in and out of her a few times.

“I’m ready,” she pants. “Fuck, that’s good. I’m good, Nate.”

Nate’s pretty sure Wade said something once about three fingers, but she does seem pretty loose and ready to go, so he eases her onto her back with his techno-organic hand. “You want it like this, baby girl?” he asks her as he kneels over her.

“Yes,” she hisses. “Go wash your fucking hands and get back here.”

Nate nods and slides off the bed. He likes it when she gets pushy. It means she wants him. So he washes his hands as quickly as he reasonably can and comes back to find her holding up a condom with a grin.

“Come here, soldier. Let’s get you suited up,” she says.

Nate hisses when she rolls the condom onto him; he likes it better without, but he can acknowledge that it’ll make cleanup easier. And then Vanessa lays back and spreads those long legs and Nate can lift up her hips and push, and it feels so fucking good he wants to die.

He goes slow, as much to keep from coming as to keep from hurting her. He’s been so good for days now, never letting himself get too close to the edge even when he jerks off, and now her ass is hot and tight and slippery and it’s all he can do not to shoot his load right here.

Vanessa sighs, stretching her arms above her head and arching her back. “God, that’s good. You feel so good, Daddy.”

Nate strokes a hand up her side, cupping her breast and teasing her nipple with his thumb. She likes that, and if Nate focuses on her he’s less likely to come embarrassingly quick. “I’ve got what you need, beautiful,” he murmurs. “Gonna give you just what you wanted.”

She rolls her hips obscenely, grinning at the noise he makes. “You need it too, Daddy.”

“Of course I do, baby girl. Where else am I gonna find such a desperate slut with a body like yours?” Nate starts to move a little more easily, meeting her thrusts with his own, and it’s so easy to reach down and tease his finger into her cunt.

She gasps, clenching up around him. “Oh fuck...”

“Told you I was gonna fuck this pretty little pussy,” he tells her, leaning back so he can finger her cunt at a better angle. It makes her moan, her hands gripping the sheets hard enough that her knuckles go white. “And you fucking wish I would. I know what you like, you deviant little whore. You want me to rip off this condom and fuck your cunt bare, don’t you?”

Vanessa makes a noise deep in her chest and pants up at him. “Daddy, if you do that you might put a baby in me,” she whines.

“Yeah,” he grunts, stroking his thumb across her clit; she lets out a little squeal and squeezes him with her thighs. Trying to close them, and fuck, Nate loves the thought of pushing them further apart.

So he does.

She goes rigid at the first touch of his telekinesis, and then she grins broadly at him. “Nice. I wanna see you use it on Wade. I bet he’ll nut right then.”

Nate snorts. “What’ll you bet me?”

She arches when he pets across her clit again. “Ah, fuck. Shit, ummm...I’ll bet you a blowjob.”

“And what, I blow you if you win?” he asks, grinning now. He’s fucking her leisurely, enjoying the way she writhes when he works his hand on her cunt. “I do that anyway.”

“I’ll get you off everyday for a week if you win,” she says after a few brainless moments. “Winner gets to come every day, loser doesn’t get to come at all.”

Nate stills, making her kick him in the kidney. It’s fine; she doesn’t kick very hard. “Really,” he says.

Vanessa nods. “Yes, really, now get back to work, soldier. You were doing great.”

He loves to please her, so he does it, fucking her with both his hand and his cock, right up until she comes with a bitten-back cry. The feel of her coming on his cock is almost enough to push him over, but he’s had a lot of practice holding himself back over the last several weeks.

He teases her clit one last time before pulling his finger out of her cunt, and then he grabs her hips and thrusts in hard.

Vanessa moans, gripping the sheets. She thinks of this as his jackhammer phase, where he fucks hard and fast and steady until he comes. It’s not entirely inaccurate; he can’t hold himself back any longer. Now that she’s come twice for him, it’s time to take his turn. Her ass keeps clenching around him and she’s making these soft sounds that go straight through him, and he’s getting closer and closer to coming.

“I do wish you’d put it in my pussy, Daddy,” she moans suddenly. “I wish you’d come in me and give me a baby.”

That does it. Nate’s not exactly proud of the noise he makes when he comes, but the orgasm is powerful enough to make him shake. He has to use his telekinesis to brace himself and not fall directly on top of Vanessa. “Shit,” he breathes, hiding his face in her neck.

“Called it!” Vanessa crows. “Baby boy here’s got a pregnancy kink.”

“Shut up,” he mutters, trying to catch his breath.

“Oh, no shame, baby.” She runs her hands soothingly over his shoulders. “We’re all filthy deviants here. Hell, pregnancy kink is almost wholesome compared to the daddy-daughter incest shit we were literally just doing.”

Nate grunts.

She kisses his ear. “God, you’re cute. Now let me up, I have to go wipe my ass.”

He snorts and sits up, watching her vanish into the bathroom. He carefully removes the condom and ties it off, tossing it into the covered trash can they keep by the bed for that very purpose. It’s covered in stickers, which makes Nate miss Wade.

When she comes back, she snuggles in next to him and lays her head on his chest, right over his heart.

Nate reaches up to pet her hair, staring up at the ceiling. The day has been a roller coaster; at least, he thinks that’s the metaphor to use here. He’s never been on one. But the ups and downs have left him a little unsettled. The violence with Domino and the promise of X-Force and the upcoming dinner with his parents and the overwhelming misery he felt from the victims in that house all swirl together uncomfortably.

This is going to be his life now. He’s going to vacillate wildly between large and small scale problems, between violence and family, and have to try to keep a place for himself in the middle.

“I have to tell you how grateful I am to have you,” he says into the silence. “You keep me from becoming overwhelmed.”

She looks at him. “You always get sappy after buttsex?”

Nate makes a face. “I can stop if you promise to quit calling it buttsex.”

“Nah. Not happening, so you might as well be sappy.” She kisses along the edge of the metal on his chest.

Nate sighs. Someday he’s gonna figure out Vanessa’s aversion to sincerity. Sometimes she’s willing to be serious and other times she’s as bad as Wade. “I love you,” he says again softly.

Vanessa sighs, resting her cheek on his sternum. She doesn’t say anything, but her fingers curl around his bicep.

But he can sense the contentment she feels, and the way she savors how his skin feels under her fingertips, and her delight when he does something just to please her. And it’s enough.

Chapter Text

He and Dopinder go shooting on Friday. Nate steps into Sister Margaret’s just before noon and looks around at the mostly empty bar. The place looked like shit from the outside, and it’s not better now that he gets a look at the interior.

Weasel’s behind the bar on his phone. You’d think getting kidnapped and threatened with torture would make him more observant, but apparently not. He doesn’t look up when Nate slides onto a stool.

“That’s Wade’s seat.”

Or maybe he does pay attention.

“Didn’t think this place took reservations,” Nate says, eyeing the cooler full of beer bottles behind Weasel.

“Oh no, I’m just warning you it’s his because he’s pissed all over that stool more times than I care to remember.”

Nate pauses, torn between whether to move or not.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Cable, I cleaned it very thoroughly.” Dopinder appears at his shoulder as if Nate summoned him with his telekinesis.

Weasel eyes them. “So you’re stealing my assistant,” he finally says. “I’d stop you, but you scare the living shit out of me, so I won’t.”

“Good,” Nate grunts. “And Vanessa says to, and I quote, fucking pay him what he’s worth or she’ll tell everyone about the time at Buck’s.”

Weasel goes a pasty color, similar to how he’d looked when Nate threatened to bend something. “That’s completely uncalled for. Dopinder!” He raises his voice. “You’re getting a raise!”

Dopinder cheers.

“So how is the time traveler’s wife’s newly polyamorous husband’s new girlfriend?” Weasel asks after he glares Dopinder into silence again.

Nate stares at him. “She’s fine,” he says after a beat.

“Cool, cool.” Weasel swallows. “She need any favors, or...?”

“You know, I don’t actually care what dirt she’s got on you,” says Nate. “I just like knowing she has it.”

“Right.” Weasel eyes him distrustfully.

Nate glances over at Dopinder, watching him hum to himself while he puts his cleaning supplies away. “Weasel’s a good name for you,” he muses, enjoying the spike of fear he feels off the greasy fuck. “You’re slippery. Sell Wade out to anyone else like you did to me, and your fear boner’s the first thing I’ll take care of.”

“Did you mean that to sound like it did?” asks Weasel.

Nate gives him a sharp look.

“Oh god, I’m sorry.” Weasel shrinks away from him.

Turns out Dopinder’s a decent shot once Nate gets him on the range. Kid might be a noodle, but he’s got talent. He just needs some stamina.

“I should probably join a gym,” Dopinder says morosely as his shot goes wide. “My arms are very tired.”

Nate grunts. “Your stance is good. You’ve got potential as a marksman. But yeah, you should start working on the arm strength.”

Dopinder nods seriously. “I will start lifting weights. Soon I will truly be an instrument of death.”

“That’s...that’s great,” Nate tells him awkwardly. “Congrats on the raise.”

“Yes, I’m very pleased about that. My hope is to move out and get my own flat somewhere. It’s very difficult to hide all the guns from my mother.”

Nate’s not sure he wants to know. “Well, I guess I’ll see you tonight when you drop Wade off,” he finally says.

Dopinder glances at his watch. “Fuck! Yes, see you later,” he yells, shoving the gun at Nate (by the wrong end, what the fuck is wrong with this kid) and scampering out of the building.

Nate stares after him, marveling at the way Wade’s managed to surround himself with people who are just as weird as he is.

When he asks Vanessa about it later, she asks him where he thinks he fits into that paradigm. Which is rude, and he tells her so.

She laughs at him. He isn’t sure what he expected.

Dinner is the now-traditional pizza, thin and crispy and piping hot. Wade, Russell, and Dopinder arrive shortly before it does, and Nate finds himself crossing his arms and leaning against the wall to watch Wade’s bullshit excuses for being late.

This week it’s chasing a baby carriage into traffic, and time-traveling mutants who don’t want to fuck him (he winks at Nate, which makes Nate roll his eyes), and replacing all the antibiotics in the world with essential oils.

Nate waits for his own kiss and snorts as Wade goes for the least subtle grope Nate’s ever been on the receiving end of. “Missed you too,” he murmurs in Wade’s ear.

Wade actually nuzzles him before he goes to high five Hope. She puts her hands on her hips and points imperiously at the stairs, so he rolls his eyes and goes to shower.

Dopinder looks at Hope like she’s the second coming, but doesn’t say anything.

They eat their pizza while watching a movie called Star Wars, which everyone agrees is a classic and Nate thinks is stupid. But he’s not a complete idiot, so he lies and says yes when Vanessa asks if he likes it.

Hope turns around and gives him the most infuriatingly smug look he’s ever seen, and he thinks, don’t even think about it.

Ice cream every night? She gives him big charming eyes.

Nate scowls at her. Manipulative little shit. He honestly doesn’t know where she gets it. Not a chance.

Hope sticks her lower lip out, and the next time there’s a pause in the conversation she says, “Vanessa, Daddy lied. He hates this movie.”

Nate’s jaw drops.

Vanessa’s eyebrows shoot up. “Is that so?” She gives Nate a hard look. “You didn’t have to lie.”

“Seemed harmless,” he growls, glaring daggers at his asshole kid, who’s giving him a triumphant smirk.

“You should have saved that,” Russell tells her. “You know, for something really good.”

“I was denied ice cream,” Hope says.

“How can you hate Star Wars?” Wade demands.

Nate shifts in his seat. “It’s stupid,” he says, and all hell breaks loose.

“You shut your goddamn trash mouth!” snarls Wade.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Russell asks.

“Star Wars is in my top ten favorites,” is Dopinder’s contribution to this clusterfuck.

“And what the hell is with the snitching?” Russell shoots at Hope. “Don’t you know snitches get stitches?”

She kicks him in the shin. “I’m not a snitch!”

“Kick me again, you little buttmunch!” Russell’s hands start to glow.

“I’m going to leave,” Dopinder says to no one in particular. He takes a slice of pizza and flees.

“Russell!” snaps Vanessa. “No burning shit in my house!”

“She fucking kicked me!”

“Yeah, and she’s gonna face consequences for that, but not from you. From now on, everyone in this family is on the same team!” says Vanessa.

Wade nods. “And to prove it, I got us matching t-shirts.”

“What?” Even Vanessa blinks at him.

“One second.” He darts into the front hall and returns with his duffel bag. With a flourish, he pulls out a navy blue t-shirt with ‘Sumcarllinson’ written on the chest in fancy script.

Russell squints at it while everyone else sits there in horror. “What the fuck is that supposed to be?”

“It’s a portmanteau! All our last names smushed together like us into this family.”

“And about as gracefully,” Vanessa agrees.

Russell eyes Nate. “So what’s your last name?”

“Summers,” Hope tells him, and Nate absolutely does not wince.

“Summers?” Russell repeats. “Like that fucker Scott?”

“Shut up about my grandpa!” snaps Hope, and there goes the fucking neighborhood.

“What?” Russell yelps. “You mean that fucking tool spawned this fucking tool? Ow!”

“I said shut up!” yells Hope.

“Quit kicking me, you little turd!” Russell snaps, rubbing his shin.

“Enough!” snaps Vanessa. “What the fuck did I just say about this family being on the same team? No one hits anyone in this house.”

“Except for spankings,” chirps Wade.

“The spankings are negotiated and agreed on by all parties,” says Vanessa.

“Why would anyone wanna get spanked?” Hope asks while Russell makes faces.

“Sometimes I need guidance,” Wade tells her.

“Stop,” Nate says uselessly.

“There’s no way I’m wearing that,” Russell tells Wade.

“Vanessa?”

“Hope, if you can’t stop kicking Russell you’re gonna spend all day in that shirt,” says Vanessa, looking at Nate.

He smirks at Hope’s outraged expression. “Which’ll be fun to explain to my parents when they come over for dinner next week.”

“Jean says she’s bringing wine,” Wade adds.

Vanessa scowls. “Guess they think they’ll need it.”

“What?” Russell’s jaw drops. “Why are they coming here?”

“Well, they’re my parents,” Nate points out. “They want to meet Hope.”

“Christ.” Russell curls his lip. “Can’t get a fucking break even on the weekends.”

The kid’s genuinely upset, which makes Nate a little concerned. He knows Scott can’t stand Wade, so he probably should have realized that Russell’s loyalty means that he and Scott won’t get along on principle. He hopes things look better with Jean; he finds that he wants very much to know her better.

“It’s a couple hours, and you’ll be here with us,” Vanessa soothes him. “And if Hope kicks you, she’ll have to wear the Family Shirt.”

“Is that what we’re calling them?” asks Wade brightly.

“Yep. And Nate?” Vanessa pins him with a stare. “Don’t lie about stupid shit. Makes it harder to trust you with important shit.”

Nate feels like an ass. He clears his throat and nods.

It’s a good thing Russell doesn’t laugh, or Nate would hold him still with his mind to stuff the little shit into his Family Shirt.

“So here’s how things go down from now on,” says Vanessa briskly. “We are a team. A united front. We have to be on the same side.”

“Like Tupac and Ice Cube,” whispers Russell.

“Why are we like ice cubes?” Hope asks him.

“I’ve never hit a kid, Hope, but I swear to fuck—”

“Family Shirt,” Vanessa growls, and they both fall silent. She takes a deep breath. “If any of you want a family that’s more than just an f-word, you’re gonna have to work for it. Just living together isn’t enough, we have to choose to be a family and then fucking act like it.”

“But you’re not my family,” says Hope, wrinkling her nose a little.

Wade looks hurt, but hides it by fussing with his Family Shirt.

“They’re my family,” says Nate into the suddenly heavy silence. “What do you think that makes them to you?”

“So what about Mommy?” demands Hope.

“She’s family too. You can have them both. No one’s making you choose one or the other,” Nate tells her.

Hope’s face twists, but she doesn’t say anything.

Russell eyes Nate. “I’m your family,” he says, and the skepticism in his voice is heavier than a fucking tank.

Nate snorts. “Never said you’re my kid,” he says, “but you’re something.”

That makes Russell’s eyes go as round as his face. He looks away a little too casually. “Whatever.”

“What’s good for one of us is good for all of us,” says Vanessa firmly. “We all have the same goal.”

“Winning,” Wade interrupts.

“Winning what?” Hope makes a face at him.

“Life, Hope. We want to win at life. And we can do that with the power of friendship.”

She crosses her arms. “Family and friends aren’t the same.”

“No, but families always start as friends. Except ours. Ours started with a skee-ball date and a lot of explosions.”

“Not all at the same time,” Vanessa adds.

Hope looks between them skeptically. “You’re born into a family.”

“But before you’re born, your parents have to decide they like each other enough to have a baby.”

Nate wishes Wade wouldn’t punctuate that by making a circle with his hand and sticking his finger in it repeatedly, but some battles aren’t worth fighting.

Hope wrinkles her nose at him. “You’re really gross.”

“Oh, this?” Wade looks down at his hands. “Never fuck someone you don’t like, kid. It leads to awkward conversations in bars and climbing out windows to avoid your exes.”

“Most married people start out as friends,” Vanessa says over him. “So friends can become your family if you do it right. Maybe right now you only think of us as friends, and that’s okay. Relationships don’t change overnight. But we still have to be a team. Everyone agree?”

“Yep!” Wade holds out his hand.

Vanessa puts hers on top of it.

“This is so lame,” mutters Russell, but he reaches in.

Nate doesn’t bother saying anything, but he puts his hand on top of Russell’s. It’s unpleasantly sweaty. Then he looks at Hope.

She’s chewing her bottom lip, looking between them hesitantly. “I wish Mommy was here,” she whispers.

“She’s an honorary member,” says Vanessa.

Nate’s not sure Vanessa would be so charitable if she’d ever actually met Aliya, but it’s enough to get Hope to put her hand in their stupid circle. “So this makes us a family?” she asks skeptically.

“This by itself? No.” Vanessa smiles. “But it’s a start.”

—

The weekend goes by faster than it has any right to. They don’t do anything special this time, just lay around the house. Wade comes jogging with Nate and makes a point of outrunning all the women with strollers they find in the park. Some of them are pretty competitive; Nate would be lying if he said he didn’t think their annoyance was funny.

Hope actually hugs Russell goodbye when they leave, which seems to surprise them both. Russell pats her awkwardly, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes.

On Tuesday, Nate agrees to take Dopinder shooting again, partly because it annoys Weasel and partly because it makes Vanessa happy and partly because the little weirdo is starting to grow on him. They talk strength training and Nate suggests some routines for Dopinder to start with.

“It is a pity I have no mutant abilities,” Dopinder sighs. “I am certain that I would make a great addition to X-Force if I was able to melt people with my saliva or something.”

Nate glances at him. “I’ve met plenty of good soldiers without any powers. Just train up and we’ll see how things go.”

Dopinder beams at him.

The next morning, he sips his coffee in companionable silence with Vanessa while looking through the news on his phone. “Who do you think I should kill first?” he asks her. “There are a couple of dark money donors who are funneling money into white supremacist terrorist cells within this country. I have my eye on them.”

She glances up. “I mean, I’m not gonna stop you from killing racists. Are these the same people who keep suppressing climate change science?”

“I’ll look.”

Vanessa smiles. “You take a top-down approach. Efficient.”

Nate shrugs. “Easier to take them down once their funding’s cut off.”

“I do like a man who understands the value of a dollar.” She raises her mug to her lips.

By the end of the day, Nate has a list of names. He calls Domino to see if she’s willing to do some pro- bono work for the betterment of humanity.

“Considering I have to live on this planet, sure,” she tells him over the phone, and that’s that.

They start with a Russian oligarch; between him and Domino the man’s security is laughable. He offers them more money than Nate can even imagine, and they shoot him anyway after he transfers 40 billon into a brand new offshore account. Nate would feel bad, but most of it is going toward cleaning up the water supply in Flint, Michigan.

“You’re one of the good ones, Nate,” Domino tells him.

She helps him Friday morning too, when he goes to assassinate a couple that have donated millions to suppressing climate change data and electing American politicians that work for fossil fuels.

“It was probably rude to kill him on the toilet,” muses Domino. “You sure about not making it look like an accident?”

Nate snorts. “Yeah. I want people to know I’m out there.”

“What if the X-Men find out? You worried about that?”

“Not really.” Nate glances at her. “As far as they know, I’m brokering international peace treaties.”

“By threatening a head of state in his bedroom. It won’t take a genius to figure out this was you, Nate.”

“As long as they can’t prove it, we’re fine.” Nate shoulders his gun. “Let’s go home.”

She stays for pizza with Wade and Russell. Wade’s delighted to see her and demands that she show him the Adventure Time watch he left her when he was dying.

Domino winks at Nate and pushes up her sleeve. “See? Still wearing it.”

“The mark of true friendship,” murmurs Vanessa. “That’s impressive.”

“And that reminds me, Hope, we have to start watching Voltron. Five mini lion robots come together to make a super robot and defend the universe.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this before?” Hope demands.

Russell scowls and takes a sullen bite of pizza. Nate scans him, realizing with some alarm that he’s actually starting to worry about the kid. Amazing what a difference a couple weeks can make.

He finds Russell dreading Scott and Jean’s visit tomorrow. He doesn’t want any part of the school here, where he’s finally starting to feel safe and wanted, and Nate feels a pang of guilt for compromising the kid’s home. He hadn’t realized how strongly Russell felt about it.

Well, it’s too late now. Nate looks around the table where Wade and Domino are talking to Hope and prays that tomorrow is even half as pleasant as this is.

—

They don’t fuck that night. Nate’s mind is buzzing with everything they have to do to get ready tomorrow with his parents—his parents—coming over. He finds himself laying awake long after Wade and Vanessa have fallen asleep, snoring and tangled up with each other (although Wade’s leg is hitched over Nate’s hip), staring at the ceiling.

How many times has he wondered what spending time with his parents would be like? He tucks an arm behind his head, remembering how jealous he was of the other kids whose parents were around. He knows his family did the best they could, but nothing fills the void left by being abandoned.

The worst part is that he can’t even ask them why they didn’t come with him, because it hasn’t happened yet. He’s created the goddamn paradox that’s left him an orphan for all intents and purposes.

Vanessa lets out a horrifying snore next to his ear, making him wince.

Aliya never snored, not like this, so it’s a novel experience listening to Wade and Vanessa’s symphony. Usually he falls asleep fast; perks of being a soldier. But tonight he wasn’t so lucky and now he’s seriously considering hiding in his office.

He should get a couch in there or something. They even make ones that turn into beds. It’s amazing.

But when he looks at her, with her mouth hanging slightly open and her hair covering half of Wade’s face, he doesn’t really want to go anywhere. Sleep is overrated. He can live without.

That’s a decision he regrets the next morning as Vanessa looks around the house and declares, with all the authority of a general on the front, that shit needs cleaning. Nate is assigned the bathrooms, Hope and Russell get dusting and vacuuming respectively, and she and Wade will clean the kitchen and cook.

Nate rolls his eyes and tells both the kids to quit whining about getting the easy jobs. Then he goes to get the bleach.

Cleaning the two bathrooms takes him a little over an hour, and only that long because he does the floors and the shower in the upstairs one. When he’s done he comes downstairs to see Russell vacuuming Hope’s butt while she giggles, and walks through into the kitchen without comment.

“You might wanna make sure actual work gets done in there,” he says casually to Vanessa. “Only thing I saw getting cleaned was Hope’s ass.”

Vanessa’s expression is priceless. “Oh, you meant with the vacuum,” she says after a beat. “Right. Well, at least they aren’t kicking each other.”

Nate supposes she has a point. But he does go back out to check on them. It’s not like he has terribly high expectations for Hope’s ability to clean; at home, she always tended to get distracted halfway through dusting one thing and they ended up with a series of mostly-cleaned furniture that Aliya would go behind and finish. Her argument was that if they discouraged Hope, she wouldn’t do it.

Nate looked around the half-dusted living room and sighs. “Usually you dust and then vacuum,” he says.

They both blink at him. “Really?” says Hope.

Russell clears his throat. “We’re working on it.”

Nate smirks and goes upstairs to shower. He doesn’t have a lot of his own clothes, but he puts on what he has because there’s no way he’s having dinner with his parents wearing Wade’s weird shit. Normally it’s fine, but not for this.

He catches himself fixing his hair and realizes he’s being fucking ridiculous. It’s two-thirty and he needs to get downstairs.

Hope is wearing her Family Shirt and scowling furiously when he gets to the living room. She’s sitting in a sulky pile surrounded by her crayons and her stuffed unicorn.

Nate stops at the sight of her. “What did you do?”

“She kicked Russell again,” says Vanessa from the kitchen doorway. “So I made her put on the shirt and now she’s protesting by dragging all her crap into my clean living room.”

“It’s not crap! And he called Scott a douchebag!”

Nate winces. “Don’t say that word,” he tells her.

“What’s it mean anyway?” she asks sulkily.

“It’s an insult,” Vanessa tells her. “Douching is a thing where you rinse out the inside of your vagina. Terrible for you, don’t do it.”

Nate closes his eyes and prays Hope doesn’t decide to parrot that little factoid at dinner.

Hope glares at Vanessa. “My daddy’s gonna let me change out of this stupid shirt,” she tells her.

“No, I’m not.”

She turns on him with wide, betrayed eyes.

Nate crosses his arms. “I’ve told you over and over not to kick Russell. Maybe now you’ll listen.”

Hope bursts into tears and Nate has to clench his jaw and his fists to keep from going to her and taking it back.

“You can’t make me meet Grandma and Grandpa like this! You can’t!”

Nate dithers.

Vanessa’s wide eyes meet his over Hope’s head, and she shakes her head subtly.

Nate actually bites his lip, hating the thought of making his daughter cry.

Wade comes in from outside, hood pulled up.“Hey, you’re wearing your Family Shirt!” he says to Hope. “Me too!” And he unzips his hoodie and holds it open.

Hope flings herself into his arms and sobs harder. “H-he’s making me wear it! And it’s the first time I’m gonna meet my grandma!”

Wade’s mouth falls open. “Nate!”

“Oh my god,” snaps Vanessa.

“She kicked Russell again,” says Nate. “And now she’s playing you.”

Wade looks down at Hope. “Bette Davis would be proud, kiddo. You got me.” He pulls out his phone. “Ready for your close-up?” he asks, and snaps the selfie while Hope squirms and fights to get free like a pissed off cat. After a second he lets her go and grins. “Hashtag Family Shirt.”

“Don’t post it on Twitter,” Vanessa tells him, rolling her eyes.

“No? It’s pretty funny. I caught her pushing on my face.”

“Don’t make fun of me!” yells Hope.

“I make fun of everyone, sweetie.” Wade grins at her. “Cheer up, they’re gonna love you no matter what shirt you’re wearing. And they don’t even like Russell, so I doubt they’ll care you’re getting punished for kicking him.”

“Wade!” Vanessa covers her face.

“Okay, Jean might care a little.”

Hope glares at him, snotty and red-faced, and of course that’s when the fucking doorbell rings.

“Jesus,” Nate mutters, and he leaves to get it.

His parents are standing there awkwardly. Jean has a bottle of wine clutched a little too tightly in her hands, but she smiles broadly when she sees him. “Nathan,” she breathes.

“Come in,” he says, stepping aside to let them into the entryway.

“This is a beautiful house,” Jean murmurs, looking around.

Nate smiles faintly as he takes Scott’s coat and then hers. “Yeah. Vanessa’s really happy with it.”

Jean looks a little uncomfortable with the reminder that he’s dating two people, but he figures that’s her problem and she’s free to get over it.

“So when did you move in?” Scott asks.

“Just under a month ago,” Nate tells him, and he finds he’s startled that it’s been that long. “Jesus, time flies.”

“For you more than most,” says Jean with a wry smile.

He acknowledges that with a wry smile of his own and gestures up the couple stairs to the living room.

Hope is sitting on the couch with her unicorn, still sulking. When they enter the room she jumps up and tosses it aside. “Oh my god,” she says, bouncing a little. Daddy, it’s them!

He snorts, even as Jean’s whole face softens with wonder. “You must be Hope,” she says a little breathlessly. “I’m so glad I’m finally meeting you.”

“She looks like you,” Scott murmurs to her, and they gaze at each other for a moment.

“Hey! Glad you could make it! How was traffic?” Wade appears in the kitchen doorway. “Oh, thank you, Jean,” he says, taking the wine bottle from her hands. “I’ll just pop this in the fridge to chill. Want anything to drink?”

“What does your shirt say?” Scott asks him, frowning.

“Oh, this?” Wade looks down. “This is our Family Shirt. It’s a portmanteau. Hope’s wearing hers too.”

Hope actually growls at him.

“Oh, wow,” says Jean in response to that.

Russell thunders down the stairs and comes into view, wearing a shirt with some rapper he likes on the front. “Oh. They’re here already.”

“Hi, Russell,” says Scott, sounding just as unenthusiastic as Russell.

Russell throws a smirk at Hope before he slides past Wade to go hide in the kitchen.

“So, drinks? We’ve got beer, wine, and a full array of non-alcoholic options since—did I tell you we’re trying for a baby?”

“Stop making that hand gesture when you tell people,” says Nate.

Wade beams at him.

“I would love a drink,” says Scott.

“Can I have some pineapple juice?” Hope asks.

“Bet your buns you can, sweetie. Jean, what would you like?”

“Um, wine is great.”

“Red or white? We have a fantastic Vouvray from the south of France, or perhaps a Cabernet? Or maybe a—”

“Just give her the shit from the box,” says Nate. “It’s good.”

Wade blinks. “That isn’t company wine, pudding cup.”

“Box is fine,” says Jean with a forced smile.

“Once your stuff is chilled we can open that.” Wade flashes her a slightly manic grin and vanishes into the kitchen.

A few minutes later he and Vanessa appear with drinks for everyone. Vanessa has her frilly pink apron on and her hair up in a messy knot.

“Hi Scott, Jean,” she says, handing off wine glasses as Wade gives Hope her juice with a flourish.

“Hello Vanessa.” Jean smiles. “You have a beautiful home.”

Vanessa beams. “Thanks. It’s still kind of sparse. Moving from a studio, lot of space to fill.”

“This is a fantastic location too. What a great find.”

“Well, Domino helped.” Vanessa smirks.

Jean glances at Scott. “Do we know Domino?”

“She’s a member of X-Force,” says Wade. “She’s lucky.”

“Domino is Wade’s friend but she watched My Little Pony with me after she and Daddy killed some slavers a few weeks ago,” says Hope.

Scott probably blinks. “Excuse me?”

“Broke up a human trafficking ring,” Nate mumbles.

You mean that nightmare in Atlanta?” Scott asks blankly.

Nate shrugs. “The client wanted proof that the job was done. And I can’t say I lost sleep over killing the kind of men who would do that to another human being.”

“So you take contract work like Wade does,” says Jean. She sounds disappointed.

Nate tells himself that doesn’t sting. “I’m a soldier, and that skill set pays pretty well. Besides, I’m the only one working right now.”

“You’re out of work?” Jean asks Vanessa.

Vanessa snorts. “I mean, it’s hard to go back into work after you’ve been dead for awhile, so that’s my job at the club gone, and we’re trying for a kid, so I don’t want to take any unnecessary risks.”

Jean looks politely puzzled.

“I’m an escort,” Vanessa clarifies. “So I’m not going back to work until after I’ve had the baby.”

Wade slips an arm around her and kisses her hair.

Jean’s smile is strained. “Oh,” she says weakly.

Scott hastily takes a sip of his wine.

Vanessa raises her eyebrows and looks between them. “I know it’s weird for a lot of people, but I figured I’d just come out and say it. I like to be open about things.”

“I can see that,” says Jean, “and there’s certainly something to be said for living on your own terms. I mean, as long as that’s what you’re doing.”

Vanessa smiles. “Very much so. I’ve been taking care of myself for years before Wade came along.”

“I bought her for the night and took her to skee-ball,” says Wade happily. “And then she slept with me for free.”

Scott’s mouth is hanging open, just a little. Nate tightens his shields; he doesn’t want to know what Scott thinks of Vanessa.

“That’s...sweet,” says Jean after a beat.

“He kicked my ass and then bought himself a Voltron ring right in front of me.” Vanessa lays her head on Wade’s shoulder.

“I think I still have that.” Wade nuzzles her.

Hope comes to stand in the middle of their circle and looks up at Jean. “Would you like to color with me?” she asks in her most polite voice.

Jean’s entire expression warms up. “I’d love to. It’s been way too long since I’ve colored.”

“Mind if I tag along? I haven’t colored in awhile either,” says Scott.

Hope grins broadly. “Yeah. I’ve got the big crayon set.”

So the three of them go to the dining room, pausing only to retrieve Hope’s unicorn. Nate watches them, wondering whether this is going well or not.

“Shitfuck, they hate me,” mutters Vanessa.

“Not as much as they hate me,” Wade says brightly.

“Can I have a beer?” Russell asks hopefully from where he’s been hiding in the kitchen.

“No,” they all tell him in unison, and smirk at the mumbled “fuck” they get in response.

Vanessa heaves a sigh. “Wow. Guess I don’t pass muster with mutant Mary and Joseph.”

“Please don’t,” says Nate.

She pins him with a stare. “Thin fucking ice, Nathan,” she mutters, and stalks back into the kitchen.

Nate winces. He looks over at where his parents are coloring with Hope; Jean could be Hope’s mother, with their matching fiery hair. They look like a normal family, and Nate suddenly regrets letting them into his home.

He clamps down on it hard before Jean can sense it, following Vanessa into the kitchen. “Can I help?” he asks lamely.

She huffs. “You’d better fucking appreciate this. I don’t like getting judged in my own home.”

“I don’t like them judging you either,” he admits quietly.

Wade watches the two of them, quiet and strangely intense.

Nate glances at him. “Is this what it’s like at the school all the time?”

“Not sure what you fucking thought, sugar buns,” Wade says. “I mean, you were there.”

“Colossus lets this shit go on?” asks Vanessa in a voice that bodes ill for Colossus.

Wade shrugs. “He sticks up for me when he can.”

“He’s a dickswab,” mutters Russell. “Just not as big of one as Scott.”

Nate hates that he agrees with the kid. “This was a bad idea,” he says. “Look, I can take Hope to go visit them from now on. It’s good for her to have family, but they don’t have to come back here.”

Times like these make him wish he could read Wade better. Even with his mask on, he’s usually so expressive, but now his face is eerily blank.

“I could pretend to get diarrhea,” Russell suggests. It’s surprisingly sweet.

“No,” says Vanessa. “We can suffer through this. I’m not gonna lose to Scott fucking Summers. Not on my own turf.”

“Guess who’s coming to dinner,” Wade says lightly.

Vanessa glances at him. “I’d take Spencer Tracy in a heartbeat,” she says.

“But then you’d be attracted to your father-in-law, and that’s filthy.” Wade winks at her.

She snorts. “We’ve got about an hour and a half while they color. Maybe we can—” She stops dead.

Nate turns to see Jean standing in the doorway. “Sorry...could I get a glass of water? Too much wine and my shields get sloppy.”

“Sure.” Wade pushes off the island and stalks to the cupboard. He takes out one of his Golden Girls glasses. “Ice?”

“No thank you.” Jean watches him warily, and Nate can’t blame her; Wade moves like a predator when he’s angry.

“Here you go,” he says after he fills the glass, holding it out.

Jean takes it, careful to make sure their fingers don’t brush. “Thank you.”

Vanessa makes herself busy with the frozen vegetables, keeping her back to Jean.

Nathan, something’s wrong. Please tell me so I can make it better.

Nate looks into his mother’s lovely, earnest face and doesn’t know where to begin. You typically go into people’s homes and make them feel like shitty people, or is that just today?

Her eyes go wide and wounded. I never meant—

But you did. Nate studies her.

Jean studies him for a long moment. I was surprised, that’s all. I didn’t realize she worked as a—

A hooker, he thinks before she can choose a well-meaning, but inevitably more offensive word. That bothers you.

It doesn’t bother you? Either of you? Jean glances at Wade.

Wade waves at her. “Heh, brain footsie. Are you fighting with your mom, Nate?”

Nate closes his eyes. “Jesus.” Wade’s a thousand times more obnoxious with Scott and Jean around, and it just now occurs to him why that is. “You don’t have to do that, Wade.”

“Do what?” Shit. Wade has the cream cheese spreader balanced perfectly on one finger.

Nate lets out a slow, deliberate breath. “Test me,” he says. “I’m not going anywhere no matter how annoying you are in front of my parents.”

The cream cheese spreader lands in the cabinet an inch from Nate’s head, making Jean jump.

Nate takes a sip of his drink.

“What the fuck are you doing to my cabinets?” demands Vanessa. “Cut that out.”

“It’s antiquing, baby,” Wade says, and he ambles around the island to retrieve the cream cheese spreader. He gets right up in Nate’s space to do it too, pressing him back against the cabinets to dig it out.

Nate raises his chin. “I love you.”

Wade glances down at him. “I know.”

“Empire.” Vanessa nods approvingly.

“Am I missing something?” asks Jean.

“Wade, you promised not to ever make out with him in front of me,” says Russell.

“I don’t believe I did promise that, Russell.” Wade grins into Nate’s face, and this is not the time to get turned on.

Nate clears his throat. “We can keep things decent,” he tells Russell.

Wade looks at him like he knows exactly what he does to Nate. “At least in public.”

“I do wish you wouldn’t make sex jokes in front of my mother,” Nate tells him.

“I make sex jokes in front of your daughter. Why would your mom be any different?”

Nate sighs. “I don’t know.”

Finally Wade steps back, giving Nate the chance to breathe again. He goes to put the cream cheese spreader back in the drawer.

“Wash that,” snaps Nate, and it makes Wade grin a little.

Are you alright? Jean thinks anxiously.

Nate frowns at her. Of course I am.

She glances at Wade, and then at the hole in the cabinet left by the cream cheese spreader. He threw that at your head.

If he’d thrown it at my head it would have bounced off my telekinetic shields because Wade doesn’t miss. Not anymore.

Jean’s lips part. Her entire expression radiates anxiety.

Nate sighs. He should have met them out somewhere.

Jean looks hurt, and he realizes she’s scanning him. It earns her a dirty look as he stalks out of the kitchen to check on Hope and Scott.

“Hi Daddy!” Hope looks up. “Scott was telling me all about the school!”

“Is that right?” Nate runs a hand over her hair. “What’s he saying?”

“That it’s huge and everyone has a their own room and you can play with other mutant kids!” She wiggles in her chair. “Can I go?”

“Eventually,” he says with a faint smile. Hope will need the kind of guidance that Xavier can provide.

“Hope has amazing control of her abilities,” Scott says.

“I used to practice with Mommy and Daddy every day when I was little,” Hope tells him proudly.

“She manifested around age two,” Nate tells Scott. “So Aliya and I started working with her as soon as we realized.”

“Aliya was your wife’s name?” asks Scott.

Nate frowns. “Yeah. She stayed in the future.”

Hope’s gotten quiet and pensively fills a balloon in with green on her coloring page.

Nate glances at her and then back to Scott. She still misses her mom.

Scott nods slowly, wondering how she’s adjusting to life here in the present.

“It’s been an interesting ride, hasn’t it, sweetheart?” Nate asks Hope. “Coming to live here and getting used to everything.”

She nods. “The food is so much better here,” she tells Scott earnestly. “Back home, we only ever had eggs or squirrels. And sometimes rabbits or chickens when the chickens would get too old to lay eggs. They didn’t taste very good because they were all stringy and there was no spice to make them tasty. Here there’s so much food! Like ice cream and pancakes.”

“We both really like pancakes,” Nate admits.

“Vanessa makes them with chocolate chip smiles when I’m having a bad day.” Hope looks down. “I like when she does that,” she admits sort of grudgingly.

“I know you miss you mom, sweetheart,” Nate says softly. He rests his hand on her shoulder.

She grips her crayon tightly but doesn’t say anything.

Scott smiles. “Maybe the four of us can go to a museum or something. There’s a lot to do in the city that I bet you would like.”

“A museum? I’ve heard about those on tv. Isn’t that where you keep the old valuable stuff?” asks Hope.

“Um, that’s one way to put it.” Scott looks amused. “They have them for art and science and history and sometimes you can actually interact with the exhibits. I think you’d have fun.”

“We should take Russell,” says Hope. “I bet he’s never been to a museum either.”

Scott’s smile freezes on his face. “I was sort of thinking that it could be a family day,” he says.

Hope turns to face him with narrowed eyes. “You don’t like Russell,” she tells him.

He tries to backtrack. “That’s not it at all. I just—”

“And you don’t like Wade or Vanessa either. You think they’re bad people because Wade kills pedophiles and Vanessa has sex with people.”

Nate has to put a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing.

Scott gapes at her. “I don’t—”

“And you think they’re bad for me and Daddy and you think Russell should go live with other people but you’re wrong!” She’s jumped off her chair and has her hands planted on her hips like Aliya used to when she was tearing someone a new asshole, and Nate’s going to treasure the flabbergasted look on Scott’s face as he gets reamed out by a seven-year-old. “Russell belongs here! Wade and Vanessa love him and they love my daddy and you should shut up!”

“Okay, Hope, that’s enough,” says Nate, still trying not to laugh.

Hope rounds on him. “We made a stupid circle! We said we’re on the same team! I’m wearing my Family Shirt! And I—”

Nate never actually learns what her last point was going to be, because a blast of red light shoots out of her eyes and he has to throw up his shields.

It doesn’t absorb; instead it bounces off his shields and blasts a sizeable hole in the plaster.

There’s a moment of silence.

“What the fuck is going on out there?” That’s Vanessa’s voice, angry on the surface but Nate can hear the fear under it.

“Scott!” Jean comes barreling into the room, skidding to a stop when she finds the three of them all standing there stupidly with their mouths hanging open.

“Holy shit.” Scott says it first.

Hope clamps her hands over her eyes. “I didn’t mean it!” she wails. “I’m sorry, Vanessa, I didn’t mean it!”

Vanessa looks from the hole in the wall and then back to Hope. “That was you?”

“I’m sorry!” Hope’s crying now.

“Power mimicry,” Jean murmurs. “What was your wife’s ability?”

Nate swallows. “Telekinesis,” he says.

Jean studies Hope carefully. “I wonder if she’s really a telepath or if she’s just mimicking your power when you’re around.”

“I’m a telepath,” Hope says from behind her hands. “Even when Daddy’s gone.”

Jean looks at Vanessa. “I’m amazed these kids haven’t burned your house down,” she tells her.

“Usually Hope just kicks,” Vanessa says.

Wade edges toward Hope. “Hey kiddo,” he says. “You can’t hurt me, so why don’t you let me take you upstairs to calm down, huh?”

Hope hesitates, but slowly lowers her hands. “Is Vanessa mad?” she whispers.

“No, sweetie, I’m not mad at all.” Vanessa cranes her neck to give Hope a smile. “We can fix the wall. It’s not a big deal.”

“You sure?” Hope asks.

“I’m sure. No worries.”

“Okay.” Hope keeps looking at Wade. “You’re sure I can’t hurt you?”

“Sweetie, I’ve blown myself up and been ripped in half. It ain’t pretty, but I always come back.”

“I don’t wanna melt you,” says Hope.

“Eh, it’d be fine.” Wade holds out his hand. “Episode of My Little Pony before we eat?”

She wipes her nose and then takes his hand. “You were right,” she tells Russell on her way out the door. “He is a fucking tool.”

“Don’t say fuck,” snaps Nate.

“Sorry Daddy.” She keeps her eyes on Wade as they vanish up the stairs.

The second he hears Hope’s door close, Nate rounds on Scott. “See that? That’s why I’m with him.”

Scott sets his jaw. “I didn’t mean to upset her.”

“You upset everyone here.” Nate looks around at Russell, who looks vindicated but still pissed off, and Vanessa, who’s watching him. “You don’t come into our home and treat my family like they aren’t good enough. If you want a relationship with me or Hope, Wade and Vanessa and Russell come with us. That’s the deal.”

Scott opens his mouth, but Jean puts a hand on his arm. “It was never our intention to make you feel bad. Please, we want to do better.”

“I really thought we’d get the food on the table before we hit this part of the evening,” says Vanessa.

“Does this mean I can eat in my room?” Russell asks.

“No.” Vanessa looks at Jean. “You wanna do better?”

“Yes.” Jean nods. “We’ve gotten off completely on the wrong foot. I do want a relationship with my son and my granddaughter, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make that happen.”

“Including put up with your son’s whore girlfriend?” Vanessa raises her eyebrows. “You just keep stepping in it. Is it because you can’t pick through my brain to figure out what I want to hear?”

“What?” Nate blinks at her.

Jean bites her lip. “You are...” she hesitates, “very good at distraction.”

Vanessa smirks. “Turns out prostitution is a great way to learn how to compartmentalize,” she says cheerfully. “Also teaches you social skills and how to smell bullshit. You don’t have to like me, but I will have your respect. Especially here.”

Jean narrows her eyes thoughtfully. “You certainly don’t fit the Pretty Woman stereotype.”

“I fucking hate that movie,” says Vanessa with a crooked smile. “And if I sat around waiting for some rich asshole who couldn’t drive to save me too, I’d still be a sad streetwalker getting slapped around by her pimp.”

Jean looks taken aback. “Oh.”

“And don’t feel sorry for me either. My life turned out pretty great. Nice house, two great men in my life, the coolest fucking kids ever.” She shoots Russell a fond smile. “So I fuck guys for five hundred dollars an hour. At this point, I can afford to be picky. I like my clients. They’re all great guys. And most of us go back to when I was a sad streetwalker who started working merc bars to cultivate a clientele the other girls were too chickenshit to work. A few of them even showed up to help me move.”

“Where the hell were they this last time then?” Nate demands. “We did all that on our own.”

“They’re mercenaries, baby. I put the word out, but they travel.” She shrugs.

Scott looks like he might pop. “You’re really talking about this like it’s a normal job.”

“It is my job. And it’s a pretty freaking good one, too.” Vanessa’s lips curl. “I strip, too, but the money’s not as good.”

Scott opens his mouth. Then he looks at Nate. “Maybe we should just...not talk about this.”

“Why? No one cares except you,” says Russell.

“I specifically remember you threatening to—what was it?—roast a kid’s balls if he called your mom a whore again,” Scott snaps.

“Yeah, but he was using it as an insult. And you missed the part where I told him to be nice to whores ‘cause they’re the only ones who are ever gonna fuck him if that’s how he was gonna be.”

Vanessa grins. “Nice.”

Scott purses his lips and looks at Jean.

She clears her throat. “I’m sorry,” she says softly. “It’s becoming clear to me that we are coming from very different places.”

“Yeah, you came from privilege and we came from shit,” says Vanessa sweetly. “I can tell by looking at you that your parents loved you.”

That makes Jean uncomfortable; she hugs herself. “It’s true that we both had some advantages,” she concedes.

“Neither of you grew up feeling like a freak,” Scott says in a low voice. “We might have had supportive families, but that didn’t make things easy.”

“Wanna know what’s not easy? Being burned with a cattle prod because the orphanage you’re in is an anti-mutant hellhole,” growls Russell. “That fucking sucks. Almost as much as it sucks when the X-Men show up to subdue you and send you back without investigating why you snapped in the first place.”

Jean looks stricken. “Oh, Russell—”

“I don’t forget,” he tells her through clenched teeth.

“Neither do we, and we won’t make that mistake twice,” Scott says. “We failed you, Russell. I can admit that. And I’m glad you’ve found a place where you feel comfortable.”

“A home, you mean,” says Russell. He stops and glances at Vanessa.

She nods. “Fuckin’ A, kid.”

Scott makes a face. “This just doesn’t seem right to me.”

“Scott,” Jean hisses.

“I can’t pretend, Jean! Prostitution and murder for hire? The X-Men don’t condone killing for any reason! Much less money!”

“It’s a good thing I like you, Nate, or I’d tell her to dump him,” says Vanessa.

“Thanks.” Nate’s not feeling too charitable toward Scott right now either.

Jean’s face tightens and Scott turns to face her. There are a few long moments of silence in which Nate’s pretty sure Scott’s getting his ass handed to him for the second time tonight, and then Jean forcibly relaxes and turns to Vanessa. “May I have another glass of that boxed wine? Nathan was right, it’s delicious.” She looks at Scott again.

“Me too, please,” he says meekly.

Russell laughs, which gets him a dirty look from all four of them. He immediately hunches his shoulders and flees into the kitchen, muttering.

“Hell, I’m tempted to have a glass,” mutters Vanessa, but she goes to get the box out.

Nate glares at Scott. He’d have liked my ex-wife, he thinks to Jean, a little unkindly.

She awkwardly tucks her hair behind her ear. Hope’s mother?

Yeah.

I’m sorry. I really am. I didn’t realize how uncomfortable this was all going to be.

It’d be less uncomfortable if he wasn’t being such a dick. Wade’s the whole reason Hope’s alive right now.

Jean sighs. “Nathan, we want to know you.”

“Even the parts you don’t approve of?” Nate asks, looking at Scott. “Like the part where I’ll kill people if I think they deserve it and I’m in a serious relationship with Wade and Vanessa?”

“Drinks!” Vanessa comes back out of the kitchen with wine glasses. She’s filled them dangerously high. “Nate, they can teleport home, right?”

“Uh, sure,” he says as Jean grabs for her glass.

She takes a long drink and sighs. “We’re gonna do better,” she says firmly. “Scott and I, were going to be better.” And she takes another long drink.

“Jean?” Scott’s watching her with some concern.

“No, Scott. Just drink.”

Vanessa watches them down their wine at frankly alarming rates. Then she turns to Nate. “So I planned to eat at five. I don’t suppose you have the time-turner so you can go back and invite them later, do you?”

“As much as I’d love to relive that phone call, no. And don’t call it a time-turner.”

Why did you answer the phone during sex? God help him. His telepath mother is buzzed.

Please don’t look at my sex life. That’s weird even for me.

“Sorry,” Jean mumbles. “Vanessa, you have to tell me this brand. I’m revising my opinions on boxed wine.”

“Really.” Vanessa looks amused. “Doesn’t seem like you drink enough to have a lot of opinions on any wine.”

“I’m not a lightweight,” Jean says, looking offended. Her nose scrunches up just like Hope’s.

Scott sighs.

“Scott, drink that. It’s delicious.” Jean nods at his glass until he raises it to his lips. The smile she gives him is loose and happy. “There. Drink some more and we are going to talk to our son.”

Vanessa’s smirking at Nate. Your mom’s a cute drunk.

“Thank you, Vanessa, but I’m not drunk yet,” says Jean with great dignity.

“Right. You want more? I can open the bottle you brought.”

“Oh, that would be lovely.” Jean nods.

“And I’ll get you a glass of water too,” Vanessa adds. “I don’t know if you’ve ever been wine drunk, but it can be a real bitch.”

Overall, it’s one of the most uncomfortable experiences of Nate’s life, and that includes ending his marriage and seeing Wade’s baby balls. Jean is a sappy drunk who keeps switching between mental and verbal conversation, and he can sense Scott’s concern and discomfort from here.

Wade and Hope coming back downstairs doesn’t make things easier, even when Hope launches herself into Nate’s arms and announces, “Daddy, I can control it! Wade had me practice on his hands!”

Nate looks at Wade, whose sleeves both look singed upon close inspection.

Wade shrugs. “She thought it was funny after the first time.”

Hope giggles. “And I punched the door as hard as I could and the bruise went away! I got Wade’s powers too! Can I jump off the roof?”

“No!” Nate looks at Wade. “You did tell her shit still hurts, right?”

“I might have downplayed that while she was burning my hands off,” Wade admits.

“Oh my god,” mutters Scott. “You live in an actual zoo.”

“Eyeware is expensive, Scott. My hands grow back for free.” Wade winks at Nate. “They’re baby soft. Wanna feel?”

“They’re also half their normal size,” Nate says. “Talk to me when they grow back.”

“But small hands make other things feel huge by comparison.”

Vanessa takes a sip of her lemon water. “Not when it’s your fingers that count.”

Jean starts coughing.

Vanessa looks entirely too pleased with herself, and Nate just wishes his face didn’t get red when he’s embarrassed.

Hope frowns at him. “Quit being gross. This is important. Russell! I can set things on fire too because I can copy your powers!”

“Bullshit.” Russell emerges from the kitchen with a horrifyingly green plastic bottle full of something that’s probably also horrifyingly green. “Prove it.”

“Not when you’re sitting on me,” Nate snaps.

“And not in my goddamn house,” Vanessa adds. “Go burn shit in the courtyard away from anything flammable.”

Hope bounces. “Can we?”

“Small fires,” says Vanessa after a bit. “Not too close to buildings, and not in view of the street, okay? We don’t need CPS coming in here to find out that Hope and Nate are both here illegally.”

“We’ll give you your birth certificate once you’re born,” Jean promises, and Scott puts a hand over his face.

“Thanks,” says Nate. “Listen to Vanessa. Don’t be stupid.”

“Okay!” Hope grabs Russell’s sleeve and drags him outside.

Wade casually gets up and goes to the window. “I’ll just keep an eye on that,” he says.

Vanessa sighs. “Well, it got Russell outside, I guess.”

Jean nods. “Some of the kids have to be forced to play mutant ball,” she says. “It’s good for them to get outside and be active.”

“It is.” Scott nods. “Not a lot of space to do that here, is there?”

“We have parks,” Vanessa says tartly.

“Lawns are classist anyway,” Wade says from the window. “Oh look, she can levitate the fireballs. That’s pretty cool.”

“What?” Nate gets up to go look.

Hope is catching the fireballs Russell tosses her, holding them around her head and making them dance.

“Holy shit.” Scott’s right behind them. “She’s...” He lowers his voice. “She’s dangerous, you know that, right? With that kind of power at that age?”

Nate turns to frown at his father. “Be glad you missed the toddler stage,” he says. “Her control now is excellent, and the thing today is the first issue we’ve had. Seems to me she does just fine when she’s not overly upset.”

“That means fuck off, Scott,” Wade tells him cheerfully.

“Scott, come sit down,” Jean begs him. “Those kids are both happy and Wade is so much less obnoxious here than at the school.”

“Right in front of him,” Vanessa murmurs wonderingly.

“Jean, that might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Wade tells her.

“You smell better here too,” she says earnestly.

Nate can’t help it; he laughs.

“Rude.” Wade pokes his cheek.

Nate catches his hand. It is baby-soft. “It’s nice when you shower,” he tells him.

Wade huffs, but won't let Nate’s hand go.

“I just want you to be aware,” Scott tells Nate seriously. “If her control slips, with the abilities she has access to just in this house...”

“Does he come with an off switch?” Wade asks Jean. “For once I’m not the one making an ass of myself at a gathering.”

“You’re at least funny when you do it, baby,” Vanessa says.

Jean narrows her eyes. “Scott, you are making us look bad in front of our son. Please come sit down.”

“You’re fine with them playing with fireballs outside?” he demands.

“I’m watching them,” Wade points out.

“Colossus caught you masturbating in the teacher’s lounge last week. Forgive me if I’m not totally reassured by that,” Scott points out.

“Well, where do you masturbate?” Wade asks.

Scott gapes at him. “That’s none of your business!”

“And do we really want to know?” asks Vanessa.

“I don’t,” says Nate.

In the shower, mostly.

“Jean, you’ve had enough to drink.” Turns out Nate comes by his ability to blush honestly.

Wade laughing doesn’t really help matters.

Vanessa at least tries to cover her laughter behind her water glass, but she’s either not very good at it or she’s not trying too hard. “Hey, perfectly respectable, Scott. No shame.”

“I don’t believe this,” he mutters.

Jean doesn’t look sorry at all, swirling her wine around her glass and watching it contentedly.

“You wanna drink some water?” Vanessa asks her. “It’s a marathon, not a sprint.”

“Excellent point.” Jean puts down her wine glass and floats the water over to her. It’s slightly shaky, but she only splashes a little reaching out for it.

“I’ll give it a 9/10,” Wade says.

Jean inclines her head like a queen and raises the glass before she takes a sip.

“Awww, they’re playing catch,” says Wade.

“Okay, I have to see this.” Vanessa gets up and comes to the window. “Well shit, they are. That’s sweet.”

“What If the neighbors see?” Scott asks.

“It’s New York. I guarantee the neighbors have seen weirder,” says Vanessa. “Who knew Russell could throw?”

“I did,” say Wade and Nate at the same time.

Vanessa glances between them, and Nate knows they’ll be talking about Russell later. But then her phone beeps, and she excuses herself to go take the food out of the oven.

Hope, it’s time to eat, Nate thinks, and Hope catches Russell’s incoming fireball only to dissipate it.

Okay, Daddy.

Nate smiles, watching them power down and vanish around the house.

“Did you see?” Hope demands as soon as they’re back inside. “Daddy, I can use anyone’s powers!”

Nate levitates her until he can scoop her out of midair; she used to love that when she was little, and now she gives him all of five seconds to hold her before she starts squirming like a cat to be let down. So Nate lets her go with a sigh and shakes his head ruefully as she charges into the kitchen.

You’re such a good dad, Jean thinks warmly. It makes me happy to see. That you’ve grown up to have that kind of love in your heart.

She really is drunk. Nate smiles at her and crosses to the couch where she’s sitting. He bends down and presses a kiss to the top of her head. You’re going to be a great mother too, he thinks. Even if you couldn’t be present, I knew I was cared for.

It’s true, too. Nate’s always been aware that they sent him forward in time because they had no choice. That they didn’t want to leave him behind. That’s how he knows Hope will rationalize Aliya’s choice someday, because he did it himself. His parents loved him, and his parents chose not to go with him.

He straightens up and smiles again into Jean’s stricken face. “It’s okay,” he whispers. And it is. He can’t regret any of it when it’s led to a life he enjoys.

Jean gets to her feet and slips her arm through his. She doesn’t say anything, but she tucks her head against his shoulder and lets him lead her into the kitchen.

Russell’s whining about setting the table while Vanessa gives him an unimpressed look and shoves the plates at him anyway. Hope gets the silverware and runs after Russell in the middle of Wade’s explanation about where everything goes.

“Just give everyone a fork!” he calls after her, and shrugs at Nate.

“We’ll probably end up with the right cutlery,” says Vanessa. She doesn’t sound worried. “Okay, everyone into the dining room. I’ve got the pan right here. Wade! You got a trivet?”

He holds it up.

“Good. Then food. Bring your glasses, everybody. Let’s eat.”

So they eat. Everyone does end up with the right cutlery and Scott even compliments the chicken. Jean eats like Hope does, with a ferocity that sits very oddly next to her good manners.

Nate kind of likes it. It’s a weird contrast that makes his mother seem more real.

And when the meal is over, and Scott has to bundle her upstairs to the teleporter, Jean takes Nate’s face between her hands and kisses his forehead softly. “Today was a mess,” she says. “Next time will probably be one too.”

Nate snorts. “Yeah, probably.”

“Thank you for this.” Jean smooshes his cheeks a little; Nate finally understands why Hope hates it so much when he does it to her. “I mean it. The opportunity to know you....it’s everything.”

“She’s right.” Scott forces a smile. “We do want this.”

Nate studies him for a long moment, watching Scott’s hopeful smile fade off his face. “You won’t like how I live my life,” he finally says. “Is that gonna be a problem?”

“I can’t promise it won’t be,” Scott tells him. “But you’re still my son.”

It’ll do for now. Nate nods and holds out his hand. Scott shakes it, and then Nate calibrates them both and sends them home.

“We need to get Jean over here for drinks more often,” is the first thing Vanessa says to him when he comes back downstairs. They’re in the living room watching as Russell and Hope debate movie merits. Hope wants Frozen again, Russell wants something called Robocop, and Wade’s pushing for Yentl. The kids both pretend not to hear him when he mentions it.

“Everyone pick something or I’m putting on Real Housewives!” Vanessa finally snaps.

They go for Singin’ in the Rain. Apparently Russell likes it more than he thought he would.

Okay, Nate can admit it’s a good movie. He doesn’t like the weird musical number in the middle, but that just means there’s a built-in bathroom break.

That night, Wade fucks Vanessa slow, both of them kneeling over Nate’s face so he can see everything. It’s filthy and beautiful and Nate can reach out and touch them as much as he wants, can dig his fingers into Wade’s asscheeks and urge him deeper to make Vanessa gasp, can arch his neck just enough to get his mouth on her clit and revel in the high, shocked sound she makes when she comes almost immediately for him. Nate loves them so much, especially after it’s over and they each curl up on either side of him, winding around him so he feels loved and grounded.

“God, you’re fucking perfect,” Vanessa sighs, combing her fingers through his hair while he lays there and basks in the attention. “Such a good boy for us.”

“Mmm,” Wade agrees, running the tip of his nose along Nate’s jaw. It’s kind of cold, but Nate doesn’t mind. It’s a nice distraction from the way his pulse throbs in his neglected cock.

Vanessa rests her hand on her abdomen. “Sure you don’t know when it’s gonna take?” she asks.

“I tried to avoid too many spoilers,” Nate mutters around a yawn. “Soon.”

“Swim, little guys,” says Wade, and Nate snorts.

“They’ll get there,” he murmurs, turning to kiss Wade. “Trust me.”

Wade nips at his shoulder. “I do.”

Chapter Text

Nate wakes up the next morning to Wade’s dick pressed against his hip. He turns his head to see that Wade is still asleep, cheek against his pillow as he slowly rubs off on Nate.

They’re still naked, so Nate can feel the slide of Wade’s wet cock across his bare skin. It’s dirty enough to get him interested, so he rolls over and half onto Wade.

The movement wakes Wade up instantly; he tenses and then opens his eyes.

Nate puts a finger to his lips before Wade can say anything, and nods to Vanessa, who’s still asleep next to them.

Wade grins and rocks his hips, and Nate responds by pressing him harder against the bed. “Am I gonna have to cover your mouth?” he whispers softly.

Wade squirms happily, wrapping his arms around Nate’s shoulders. “You should,” he whispers back. “You know how I like it, pudding cup.”

Nate huffs silently and clamps his hand over Wade’s mouth, smirking when Wade sighs and goes boneless against the mattress. He wishes he could share his fantasies with Wade the way he can with Vanessa; he thinks Wade would enjoy the dirty thrill of doing it in public. Or in front of their sleeping girlfriend. But he can’t, so Nate has to put his lips right next to Wade’s ear and whisper, “the shit I want to do to you is illegal in some parts of the country.”

Wade shivers, staring up at him with bright, eager eyes.

“Wanna hold you down, make you take it. I know you can.” Nate bites his ear and grins at the way Wade shudders. “Put your hands above your head.”

Wade obeys, and fuck if that isn’t a great feeling. Nate wraps his techno-organic hand around both Wade’s wrists and holds them still. Perfect, the way it makes Wade’s entire body arch just a little against Nate’s. He should tie Wade up for real. Gag him and restrain him so he can’t talk or distract himself. So he has to just feel it.

He’s trying to talk now, and Nate presses more firmly on his mouth. “None of that,” he whispers. “I know just what I’m doing.”

There’s that little bet he made with Vanessa, after all. Nate’s looking forward to seeing her squeezing her thighs together, desperate for sensation after a week with no orgasms. Maybe he’ll fuck her in front of the mirror, hold her open so he can show her how hard and swollen her clit is.

Nate’s never used the telekinesis like this before, unless he’s counting that one time when he was twelve, which he’s absolutely not, because that would mean admitting it happened. He’s looking right at Wade, which is how he gets to enjoy the absolute shock that blossoms across Wade’s face at the first invisible touch against his cock.

Nate grins with teeth, focusing so he can touch Wade the way he wants, with smooth slow strokes like a hand would feel. Wade’s mouth is open and wet under Nate’s hand, and he’s making eager little noises in the back of his throat as he tries to thrust up into nothing. Nate’s touch doesn’t change no matter how Wade bucks and thrashes; he tightens his grip on Wade’s wrists to keep him pinned just where Nate wants him.

“You like that?” he whispers with his mouth on Wade’s ear. “I can do this to you anytime I want, no matter where we are. You want me to go faster?”

Wade nods frantically, and keeps on nodding his approval as Nate speeds up the touch, still maddeningly light. It’s fun to watch Wade squirm, after all, and the breathy little sounds that slip past Nate’s hand shoot straight to his cock. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t imagined shutting Wade up this way since the beginning, winding him up until he’s too desperate for words. Speechless is a good look on Wade occasionally.

“Shit, that’s hot.”

Nate looks over to see Vanessa propping herself up on her elbow to get a better look at them. “I’m looking forward to winning that bet,” he tells her with a nasty grin.

Her eyebrows shoot up. “Is that so? You wanna use me like a come dump all week while I squirm and beg?”

Nate shivers. “Yeah. And you are gonna beg before the week is up.”

“Cocky. You should use it on his ass,” she says, and Wade makes a muffled noise behind Nate’s hand.

Nate’s feeling a little cruel, so he closes his eyes to concentrate on pushing into Wade with his mind, stretching Wade open as though there was a real cock fucking him. Wade lets out a soft little squeal, jerking at the sensation. As Nate forces himself in deeper, he decides to play with the head of Wade’s cock, slipping the sensations just inside the slit to see if he likes it.

And oh, he does. He really, really does, judging by the sharp breath he takes through his nose and the way he goes rigid under Nate’s hands.

“I can have any part of you I want,” Nate breathes into Wade’s ear, and Wade comes with a helpless little whine.

Nate glances down at the mess on both their stomachs and grins.

“You were saying?” Vanessa’s so horribly, horribly smug.

Nate turns to look at her. “Does that count as nutting instantly?”

Wade makes another muffled sound. Nate glances down and takes his hand off his mouth.

“Thanks babe.” Wade works his jaw. “So what was this sex bet and why did no one tell me that we have sex bets now?”

“Nate used his telekinesis on me in bed and I told him to try it on you because you’d nut right away. He wasn’t sure about that, so I bet him a week of denial for the loser, and orgasms every day for the winner.”

“Hot. So yeah, Ness, what counts as immediately? Because I was holding up great until we started experimenting with urethral stimulation.”

Her eyebrows go up. “Nate, you beautiful pervert. That’s so much simpler than sterilizing all my sounds.”

Of course they make toys for that. Nate wonders if he’d like them, and then shakes his head. “So what does count as nutting immediately? I think we should leave it up to Wade to decide.”

Wade looks pleased by this idea. “I mean, you could just edge each other all week and then fall on me like those horny nymphs who killed Orpheus.”

Vanessa snorts. “You’d survive it, I guess.”

“Actually, that sound like the best way to die. Aside from Nate choking me out with the metal hand while he fucks me.” Wade wiggles his eyebrows.

“Wait,” says Nate, but Wade’s already moved on.

“Or we can have a do-over, in which I will be completely impartial and not at all thinking about the sexual torture you might put one another through over the course of the week.”

“You sure you wanna let him decide?” Vanessa smirks, sliding closer to Nate. She bites his shoulder and then his ear, making him shiver. “You like it when I torture you.”

He stretches his telekinesis to slide up the inside of her thigh, making her gasp. “Yeah, I’m the only one who likes getting used and put back wet.”

“See? This is great.” Wade wriggles cheerfully, smearing his come all over Nate’s abs.

“I’m gonna make you lick that up,” Nate tells him.

“Okay.”

“And what are you gonna do while he cleans up?” Vanessa grins at him.

Nate grins back. “Get you nice and wet for him, because you know damn well he’s gonna be hard again by the time he’s done.”

“You can let me up anytime,” Wade reminds him politely.

“Oh.” Nate rolls off Wade and sits up, frowning at the mess on his stomach. It’s starting to cool off, and he’s not that cruel. “Come here.”

Wade responds so well to a firm hand on the back of his head. He bends down to lick across Nate’s abs, and the touch of his tongue makes Nate quiver.

“Made such a mess of me, you gorgeous thing,” he murmurs. “Shit, you look good down there.”

Wade looks up with an absolutely evil grin. “You know,” he says, “I don’t think either one of you won. Pretty sure it was a wash, which means neither of you get to come until this time next week.”

Nate’s mouth falls open at the same time Vanessa says, “you little shit—”

They look at each other. Nate’s eyes narrow.

Vanessa sets her jaw. “Fine,” she says.

“Fine,” Nate agrees.

“This is gonna be great,” Wade says happily. Nate shoves his face down into his crotch.

“Just because I can’t come doesn’t mean I can’t shut you up,” he snaps.

Wade moans as he opens his mouth for Nate’s cock, and shit, not coming is gonna be harder than he thought. If the heat and pressure of Wade’s mouth isn’t enough to push him over, Vanessa’s sharp eyes on him will. So Nate centers himself, takes a deep breath, and relaxes, letting himself enjoy it. Rocks up into Wade’s mouth just to make him gag a little, because he knows Wade’s a fucking pervert and he likes that, and lazily puts an arm behind his head.

Wanna join in? he thinks at Vanessa.

“I’ll get mine,” she says.

Nate smirks and forces Wade’s head down, choking him on his cock. “Not until next week.” He lets him up after a second, raising his eyebrows at her as Wade makes a happy sound and slurps obscenely at the head of his cock.

She hums in agreement. “But neither will you. Wade—” and she grins when Wade perks up at the sound of his name— “Come here and fuck me.”

Nate lets Wade go, watching as he crawls on top of Vanessa.

She winds her arms around his shoulders and sighs when he sinks into her, wrapping her legs around his waist and holding on.

Nate’s still feeling a little evil, so he uses his telekinesis to play with Wade’s ass, tickling across his nerve endings and making him thrust harder with a bitten-off curse. It shocks a cry from Vanessa, which just makes the whole thing more fun.

“Asshole,” she grunts, letting go of Wade to flip him off.

He laughs and does it again. “I should milk his fucking prostate while he’s inside you.”

Wade shudders. “I would be very interested in that,” he grunts.

“I bet you would, you cockslut.” So Nate concentrates, pushes the sensation into Wade and searching around carefully until Wade gasps and jerks. It’s harder than just fingering him would be, since Nate’s relying on visual cues, but it’s so damn satisfying to watch as Wade moans and twitches and fucks Vanessa more desperately than Nate’s ever seen before.

He’s beautiful like this, face twisted and his mouth hanging open. Wade’s so needy and Nate loves to give him exactly what he thinks he wants. The repetitive motion across just the right spot is tricky enough that the little gasps of pleasure Wade keeps making are extra rewarding.

“You gonna come in me, baby?” Vanessa asks, stretching prettily under him. “Give it to me just right, pump a baby in me like a good boy?”

“Gives a whole new meaning to who’s your daddy,” Wade giggles, whining when Nate uses a little more pressure.

“Please. Nate’s the daddy here and that’s not gonna change.” She grins.

Wade glances over at Nate. “It’s the disapproval in his eyes,” he says after considering.

“I’m doing something wrong if you’re still coherent,” Nate tells him.

Wade winks and then yelps as Nate ramps it up, his whole body arching and his hips working rapidly. Under him, Vanessa lets out a guttural noise and drags her hands down Wade’s back hard enough to break open some of the lesions on his skin. Neither of them seem to notice, and they heal within moments, leaving Nate to frown. He shakes his head and goes back to it until Wade moans and trembles and goes still.

Vanessa lets her legs fall back onto the bed, sighing. She stays splayed open even after Wade pulls out and crawls off her, closing her eyes. “God, it’s like being in seventh grade again, only it lasted more than thirty seconds,” she muses.

“What, my jackrabbity thrusts or not getting off?” asks Wade.

She snorts. “Both.”

“How old is seventh grade?” Nate asks her.

She opens her eyes. “Like twelve, about.”

Nate frowns. “That’s not the usual age people start, is it?” If so he’s gonna have to start having some even more uncomfortable conversations with Hope, because that’s too damn young.

“God, no.” Vanessa flaps a hand at him lazily. “Please don’t use me as a normal meter for anything sex-related, baby. I was the school slut before puberty hit.”

“Thanks to your uncles,” Wade says, not without some bitterness.

Vanessa shrugs. “You can stop worrying about Hope. She looks enough like your mother that she’ll be intimidatingly beautiful and scare off the worst of the fuckboys. And if that doesn’t work, she can melt them.”

Nate’s not sure he’s willing to consider Hope having to deal with dating just yet. He feels old enough most days.

He shakes his head and rolls off the bed to shower. Usually he’ll work out first, but he’s not going anywhere until he’s washed the last of Wade’s come off his abs.

Wade’s in the middle of taking a piss when he gets in the bathroom. He doesn’t seem bothered by Nate’s presence, so Nate just steps past him to turn on the shower. In a way it’s nice, the simple domesticity of having no secrets and no privacy. Besides, pissing is far from the worst thing Nate’s seen Wade do.

He’s not expecting Wade to step in behind him once the water is warm, snuggling close and pressing his cheek to the side of Nate’s head.

“Did you wash your hands?” Nate asks.

Wade responds by petting his hands down Nate’s chest, which Nate figures means no.

Great. Nate hands him the soap bar.

After a few minutes, Vanessa wanders in. Nate washes his hair while she sits down on the toilet.

“Don’t flush!” Wade yells.

She does anyway and laughs when the water turns ice cold for a second and they both yell. Then she steps into the shower with them. “Move, I need the water.”

“God, you’re bossy,” grumbles Nate as he moves to let her at the water.

“Yep.” She washes her hands and then wiggles her fingers.

Wade hands her the shampoo.

The three of them shower with only a few elbows in tender places (and Wade sticking his finger in Nate’s ear for whatever reason), and then pile out to dry off and get dressed. Vanessa goes downstairs to start coffee, and Wade starts packing.

“You should come back during the week,” Nate tells him. “Even just for a couple hours.”

Wade glances at him. “You miss me that much, pudding cup?”

“Not just me. Vanessa and Hope.” Nate smiles faintly. “Hope especially. She gets lonely without any other kids around.”

“Well,” Wade finally says, “for Hope I guess I can manage it.”

Nate nods casually. “Good.”

Wade looks down at the pair of underwear in his hands and sighs. “I should probably go see if Russell needs to wash anything besides his sheets.”

“Jesus. He’s old enough to do those himself,” says Nate. Just thinking about the state of a fourteen-year-old boy’s bed makes him wince.

“Ah, memories. I once cracked a blanket in half,” Wade muses.

Nate eyes him. “Sure that wasn’t at twenty-four instead of fourteen?”

“Ha! Try thirty-four.” Wade grins.

“You are truly disgusting,” Nate tells him fondly.

Wade nods happily.

Vanessa’s putting food in a pan when they go downstairs, some breakfast baked thing that’s full of salt and will taste delicious. Nate’s already gained ten pounds in the last month from eating all the food available here.

“Hi Daddy,” says Hope as she hands Vanessa a bag of frozen potatoes. “Hi Wade.”

“Morning, tater tot.” Wade ruffles her hair and laughs when she snarls at him.

“You don’t mess with a girl’s hair, Wade,” says Vanessa without looking.

Hope sniffs.

Nate gets a glass out and pours some orange juice into it, smiling at his ridiculous family. Wade smacks a kiss on Vanessa’s bare shoulder and then vanishes back upstairs to wake Russell up and start the preparations for the week. And that’s when Vanessa pauses in the middle of beating eggs.

“What day is it?” she asks Nate.

“Sunday,” he tells her.

She turns around and gives him a look that could peel paint. “You wash your brains off in the shower this morning? I meant the date, dumbass.”

“Oh.” Nate frowns. “I think it’s the 17th.”

“Holy shit. Hope, take over.”

“What do I do?” Hope asks.

“Just beat them with the fork but not so hard they leave the bowl. I’ll be right back.” Vanessa pounds her glass of pineapple juice like a shot and runs upstairs.

Hope blinks at Nate. “What was that about?”

Nate really hopes this is what he thinks it is. “I think her period’s late.”

Hope wrinkles her nose. “You’d think that’d be a good thing. Those sound gross.”

Nate shrugs, half with Vanessa upstairs while she paces around the bathroom kicking herself for peeing earlier.

He closes his eyes and pulls his awareness back; she probably wants this to herself. So he helps Hope pour the eggs over the potato and cheese mixture and sets the oven to the temperature Hope instructs him (after double checking that she has it right, to her annoyance), and finishes up the food.

And then he hears the shriek.

Only the burst of pure, raw triumph he feels from Vanessa keeps him from tearing up the stairs at the sound of it. Wade’s not so lucky; Nate can hear the door slam open and a second later a whole bunch of shouting that starts off terrified and ends with both of them just screaming happily.

“Oh my god,” mutters Hope, squinting at Nate.

“She’s pregnant,” Nate murmurs in a daze.

“What?” Hope turns to face him, looking alarmed.

Nate leans back against the counter, roiling from all the emotion he can sense pouring off them. “Vanessa’s pregnant. She’s having a baby.”

Hope’s mouth drops open. “You didn’t say it was gonna happen this fast!”

“I don’t remember talking to you about it at all,” he says, frowning.

“You didn’t,” she tells him severely. “But you talked to Russell, and you talked to Wade, and Wade talks to Russell, and Russell talks to me.”

Nate feels like he should probably have a better handle on the lines of communication in this house. But he doesn’t have time to dwell on that, because Wade and Vanessa come charging down the stairs and suddenly he’s got an armful of both of them.

“We fucking did it!” screams Vanessa right next to his ear, and he kisses her hair instead of wincing.

“I didn’t do much,” he says wryly.

“You helped a lot.” Wade winks.

“Gross!” Hope wrinkles her nose.

Nate looks up to see Russell standing on the bottom step, watching them with a strange expression on his face. Ready for a little sister? he thinks to him.

Russell actually jerks and falls off the step, shooting Nate a filthy look as he rights himself. What? he demands, loud enough that Nate and Hope both wince.

Stop yelling, you sound stupid, she tells him, crossing her arms.

How do you know it’s gonna be a girl? Russell demands.

Spoilers, idiot. I didn’t tell them, so keep it to yourself. Nate’s feeling generous, so he winks.

That makes you look like a pervert. Don’t do it.

Nate raises his middle finger behind Vanessa’s back, and Hope giggles loudly enough to get Wade’s attention.

“Russell! You’re gonna be a big brother!”

“Yeah, the whole fucking block knows,” says Russell, but he glances at Nate and then sighs. “Congratulations. I know you wanted a kid of your own.”

“We wanted a baby,” Vanessa corrects him. “We have some pretty great kids of our own already.”

“If you have sex with both of them, how do you know if it’s Wade’s baby or my dad’s?” asks Hope.

Russell groans, but Vanessa just smiles. “Sweetie, there are lots of ways to have sex, but only one of them can make you pregnant. This little sea monkey is a Wilson, no questions.” She pats her stomach with a satisfied smile.

“I’m kind of sorry I asked,” says Hope.

“Seriously. That’s almost as gross as thinking about how your dad came out of Scott’s dick,” says Russell.

“Ew!” Hope pushes him over with her telekinesis. “Don’t ever say that again, that’s gross!”

“Stop pushing me! I’m gonna take a picture of you in the Family Shirt!”

“What the fuck!” snaps Vanessa. “I just found out I’m growing a new person. Quit fighting, you’re gonna have to team up to be annoyed by the baby. God, it’s like neither of you watched any sitcoms.”

Hope and Russell both stare at her.

“I’m texting everyone!” Wade says happily; Nate’s phone buzzes and he looks down.

“Why did you text me, dipshit? I’m right here.”

Wade blows him a kiss.

Nate shakes his head and watches as Vanessa swats at Wade and tells him not to tell everyone until she’s through her first trimester. “Don’t worry about it,” he says to her, and smiles when she turns wide eyes on him. “This is it.”

“You did know,” she says. “The whole time, you knew.”

He nods, grinning when she punches him lightly on the arm. “You have no idea how bad I wanted to just tell you, but that would have made it weird.”

“I bet he even knows if it’s gonna be a boy or a girl,” says Russell, just to be a shit.

“No spoilers!” Wade turns around and points dramatically. “I wanna find out the normal way. Unless our kid is transgender. Then we should probably know early so we don’t fuck them up by accident.”

“Um.” Nate isn’t sure, actually. He frowns.

“Never mind, we can worry about that later,” Wade decides.

“I’ll clue you in if they’re born with a different set of parts than I’m expecting,” Nate settles on.

“Cool.”

Hope bounces on her toes. “So the baby’s gonna have its own room, right?”

“Yeah. I mean, at first they’ll probably sleep with us so we aren’t walking across the house to go feed the kid every two hours. But after that, yeah.” Nate’s never seen Vanessa so happy.

“And babies definitely don’t like crayons or stuffed animals or Mario Kart.” Hope looks cautious now.

”No one’s gonna make you share your toys.” Nate rolls his eyes at his daughter.

“Mostly babies like projectile vomiting and putting car keys in their mouth, I think,” says Wade.

“So the same as you then,” Russell says.

Hope snickers.

“Now, Russell. Just because I also shit my pants occasionally, that doesn’t mean you have to be hurtful about it.”

“I’m really glad you built the teleporter,” Russell tells Nate. “The car rides were fucking rank.”

“Awww, Domino says congratulations!” Wade looks at his phone. “I knew I liked her.”

“She should come with me to my appointments,” Vanessa muses. “I bet if I bought her lunch she might do it.”

“You gonna pay her to sit in the delivery room too?” asks Nate wryly.

“Please. I’m getting a c-section. Can’t wreck my moneymaker.” She winks.

Russell makes an unhappy noise and aggressively starts digging through the fridge.

She rolls her eyes, too happy to be more than amused at anything right now.

“Al says she’s happy for us and she’s gonna knit the baby a blanket. Should I ask what colors she’s gonna use?”

“Wade, be nice and just say thank you like a normal person,” she tells him.

“But then she’ll get worried. I’m gonna ask her how she knits.” Wade starts typing on his phone.

“Jesus.” Nate shakes his head. “I got your breakfast thing in the oven,” he tells Vanessa.

“Oh cool. Guess I should dump my coffee.” She gives her cup a forlorn look before she pours it down the sink.

“Aliya drank coffee when she was pregnant with Hope,” he says with a frown. “All I knew about was raw fish and alcohol.”

She frowns at him. “Oh, baby, no. There’s a lot more than that.”

“Huh.” He shrugs.

“Are eggs okay?” Wade asks suddenly. “Ness, I’m gonna google if eggs are okay to eat while you’re pregnant.”

“Wade, give me the phone.” She holds out her hand.

“No, I’m just gonna look.”

“Wade—”

Nate tunes them out while they bicker about what Vanessa’s allowed to eat. He pours himself a cup of coffee and takes a long sip, enjoying the rich bitterness. This shit was a luxury back in the past, and he might never get over having it every morning as a staple. Life could be so good here if people just quit fucking up the planet.

Oh well. He can work on that.

“Wade, I will drink a fifth of fucking vodka if you don’t give me the goddamn phone—”

Nate steps to the side as Wade scoots around the island to get away from her. “Are these free range? And how firmly are they cooked? If they’re runny we have to boil them to death—”

“Wade!”

It’s hard to believe that two months ago he didn’t know these idiots. Or what a falafel was, or that sex could be as fun as it is with them, or how excited he was gonna be to have another kid. He takes another sip of his coffee and grins.

The future’s starting to look up.