Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Hank McCoy was in love with the perfect woman. He wasn’t entirely sure if he loved her because she was perfect or if she was perfect because he loved her, but he figured it didn’t really matter.

They hadn’t spoken much, or at all, unless you count “Would that be a grande or a venti?” Which Hank mostly didn’t.

She has blonde hair and a beautiful smile and she’s so full of life and confidence like Hank always wished he could be.

He knows her first name is Raven because that’s the name she gives for her coffee. He knows that if he can just talk to her, he might be able to impress her and maybe someday he’ll get up the courage to be barefoot around her. (For Hank, this is the highest form of intimacy, superseding even sex.)

He’s working at Coffee X-press to pay for apartment and food while he works on his doctorate in
genetics and Raven comes in every day to order a caramel macchiato with two shots. And Hank is in love with her.

For Hank, the week leading up to Christmas does not begin well. It starts with him trying to hoist a Christmas tree through his apartment window. It seems that even above average strength is no help with awkward balancing.

He has it almost through his window and reaches out to grab the top of the tree and pull it through the window when his foot catches on the extra rope and he slips, dropping the tree and the entire thing goes plummeting down.

Distantly, he hears a crash and winces. That’s going to suck.

--

“Christmas tree through a window,” Jeanne-Marie says flatly. “Hank, how am I going to explain this on my insurance? It was hard enough to explain the hole in the wall from when Jean-Paul tried skiing down the back stairs.”

“I don’t remember that.” Hank says idly.

Jeanne-Marie shrugs. “It was fun. He got up to 50 miles an hour there at the end,” she winces. “That might be why the hole was so big.”

“Hm. Yes. Greater velocity equals greater force,” Hank agrees, watching Jeanne-Marie fill out the paperwork. “I’ll, um, pay for the window.” He’s running figures in his head even as he says it- he’ll have to take on extra shifts and probably cut back to two meals a day, but he can manage.

“No, it’s fine. I have a cousin in the glass business,” she says conspiratorially. “Here. You’re all set. Happy Christmas.”

“Oh! That reminds me.” Hank fumbles with the pockets of his coat before finally pulling out a small wrapped package with a blue ribbon.

“Hank, you shouldn’t have.”

Hank shrugs, uncomfortable. “Well, I wanted to. Enjoy.” He flashes her a quick smile, pushes his glasses up his nose and starts to leave.

Jean-Paul comes in when Hank has almost reached the door.

“Hey, Hank. I like your,” his eyes flick from Hank’s neatly pressed khakis to the button up shirt neatly tucked into his pants and very clearly searches for an attractive article of clothing. “Glasses,” he settles on finally, giving Hank a winning smile.

“Thanks.” Hank says, ducking his head and trying to move past Jean-Paul without being too obvious about it. Jeanne-Marie rolls her eyes.

“We should do dinner sometime,” Jean-Paul calls as Hank heads back up the stairs.

--

“You should be employee of the month.” Bobby says cheerfully when Hank comes into work the next morning.

“I didn’t know we had employee of the month.”

“They should make the title, just for you. That’s how great you are.”

Hank gives him a suspicious look as he pulls his apron over his head and starts to turn on all of the machines. “What do you want?”

Bobby ducks his head, looking sheepish. “Could you please take the Christmas shift for me?”

Hank sighs loudly, turning away. Bobby moves in front to him. “Please, man? It would be such a big favor if you could.”

“Bobby, you know I wanted to take this Christmas off.”

“It’s my first Christmas with Marie.” Bobby says pleadingly. “Amy is spending time with her kids and Katie is heading home to see her parents. You’re the only who. . .” he trails off, uncertain.

“Who doesn’t have family?” Hank finishes, “Who’s alone?”

Bobby shuffles awkwardly and looking up at Hank through his fringe. “Please, man?”

Hank sighs. “You owe me so big for this,” he says finally and Bobby beams at him.

“Thank you so much!” he gushes, throwing his arms around Hank in a hug. Hank coughs uncomfortably and gently nudges Bobby off him.

“We should get back to work,” he says pointedly.

Which is how he got suckered into being Coffee X-Press’ only employee at 2:30 in the afternoon on Christmas Day. To make matters worse, Raven hadn’t even come in that morning.

Ironically, it’s just as this depressing thought crosses his mind that Raven walks into the store, the bells over the door jingling behind her. Hank, who had been sitting behind the counter reading a textbook for the past two hours (he’s four chapters ahead now) jumps to his feet so quickly he knocks over his chair.

“Hello!” he says too brightly, going red to the roots of his hair. Raven gives him a look that somehow manages to be both amused and disinterested.

“Caramel Macchiato. Two shots,” she says and Hank has to bite his lip to stop himself from replying “I know.”

He busies himself with making the drink while Raven reads the menu like there might be something new up there. (There is, Hank added a new drink in chalk this morning and if you look closely the chemical equation of caffeine is in the far right corner.)

“Thanks.” Raven says when he hands it too her. Their fingers brush and Hank almost drops the cup before she has it, making him flush again. “Merry Christmas,” she tosses over her shoulder.

Hank smiles after, his expression falling as soon as the door closes behind her. “Merry Christmas,” he says belatedly, dropping his head into his hand. “Have a nice day. You’re beautiful. Marry me?”

He raises his head from his hands in time to see Raven being approached by three men in long dark coats who look much more menacing than the usual mugger.

“Oh, hell no,” he mutters, watching from between his fingers. One of them draws a knife, the other what looks like a large syringe. Hank gets up, fully intending to interfere. He’s surprised when Raven high kicks one of them in the face.

Unfortunately for Raven, he has two, very large friends, one of whom drives the knife deep into Raven’s arm. Hank has made it to the door by this point and his heart is pounding but his voice is firm when he says “Leave the lady alone.”

The two men (the third is still on the ground, clutching a bloody nose) laugh. One of them shoves Raven away from him to address Hank and he’s really worried when he sees her head crack against the wall.

“Yeah, what are you going to do about it, punk?” Thug #1 says, drawing Hank’s attention before he can see Raven hit the ground.

Hank is a bit flattered that he earned the title ‘Punk’, so he stands a bit straighter and tries to look less like a nerdy genius kid. There’s a lot working against him in that area, so he suspects he fails horribly. At the very least, none of the men look impressed.

“I said, leave her alone,” he repeats quietly.

Thug #2 advances on him with the knife. “I guess we’ll just deal with you first.”

Hank promised himself he wouldn’t use his powers for violence when he was thirteen and first put a man in the hospital by accident, but he’s pretty sure times like this counts as an exception. He dodges under the knife, adrenaline starting to flood his veins. Thug #1 tries to come at him from behind, but they’re slow, very slow compared to Hank with his power rushing through him, feeling the strength in his hands and the soles of his feet. He comes up under Thug #2’s second swipe with knife and punches him in the jaw. Thug #2 drops like a stone.

Thug #1 looks cries out angrily and raises the syringe like he’s about to plunge it into Hank’s neck. Hank blocks him effortlessly, knocking the syringe from his hand and raises a foot to kick him in the chest. The man falls backward into the wall and Hank knocks him out too.

Thug #3 is still on the ground and Hank decides not to worry about him, rushing to Raven’s side. It’s the first sight he gets of her since she hit her head and there’s blood on her temple.

And she’s blue.

“Fuck,” he breathes. He wouldn’t have guessed she was a mutant, though he supposes he doesn’t look much like one either.

He bends over her. “Miss?” he touches her face lightly. He’s seen people in movies slap people to wake them up but he’s pretty sure he can’t do that. “Miss Raven? Please wake up!”

She stirs slightly but doesn’t open her eyes, so he keeps talking. “Please wake up, Miss. Are you alright? Oh man, this is so bad. You need to change back,” he bends closer, trying to make sure she’s breathing. “God, you smell good. Please wake up. You really should change back now.”

Being a mutant isn’t a bad thing, but it certainly complicates things. Things like getting proper medical care. If he wants to take her to a hospital, it will be much easier to do so if she looks like a pretty blonde girl. He touches her face again. “Raven! You need to wake up!”

Her eyes flutter and for a split second Hank meets her gold eyes, hazy with confusion.

Hank smiles at her. “Hello.”

Raven makes a little noise in her throat and passes out again, but at least she shifts back into her blonde form.

Sighing, he hoists her into his arms in a bridal carry. It’s only four blocks to the nearest hospital.

Cradling Raven close to his chest, Hank starts walking.

--

When he gets to the hospital, there’s instant chaos. He lets the doctors take her because true love or not, he left the Coffee X-press unattended, open and with everything on. Getting the store robbed and/or set on fire is an excellent way to get fired and he really needs this job.

Staying only long enough to make sure she won’t change back, he rushes to the store and hurries through shutting down all the machines and closing the store before he heads back to the hospital.

Unfortunately, getting back in is not as easy as he expected. “I’m here to see the blonde woman who just came in.”

“Name?” the receptionist asks without looking up.

“Um, me? Hank McCoy.”

“Her name?” the receptionist corrects, blowing a bubble in her gum.

“Oh! Raven. Er. I don’t know the last name. She just came in. Head wound.”

Glancing around the room, he sees two doctors wheeling Raven by on a gurney through the glass doors. “There, that’s her.”

“Are you family?” the receptionist asks.

“No, I just. Look, I really need to see her.”

“Family only,” she says. Hank looks back to the hall where he saw Raven and she’s starting to move out of sight. He moves to the doors instead and a doctor stops him.

“Sorry, sir. Family only.”

Hank stares helplessly as she rolls out of his sight.

“I was going to marry that woman,” he mutters to himself.

--

Moira McTaggert is a romantic. She loves romance novels and, as a nurse in a New York City hospital, she is not ashamed of this- she needs a little romance in her life.

She’s there when a tall man who looks like your typical nerd comes in carrying a beautiful blonde woman in his arms, looking every inch a strapping hero no matter what his clothes looked like as he ordered the doctors to help her.

She feels kind of bad for him when the doctors won’t let him in, he did bring her in, didn’t he?

She’s heading over to comfort him, offer him some coffee, when she hears him say “I was going to marry that woman.”

Her hand flies to her mouth. Oh! He’s that woman’s fiancée! Poor thing, to have saved her and not even be able to see the woman he loves because they’re not married yet. Well, that just won’t do. She’ll get him in, somehow.

--

Hank, who had mostly decided to leave and come back the next day and try again, was surprised when an incredibly determined nurse ushered him through the sliding glass doors to Raven's bedside.

"She's in a coma right now," the nurse, who had introduced herself as Moira McTaggert, informs him. "But we don't think it's permanent. Her body just needs a bit of a rest."

"Oh that's, that's good," Hank says vaguely, staring at her. Even unconscious, she was beautiful. Of course, it was all fake- she was a mutant, just like him. Somehow, that only made him love her more. She would understand him- she had to hide just like he did. This could only bring them closer.

He moves to sit down in the chair next to her bed when his attention is caught by a loud group of people heading his his direction. He ducks his head out of habit (don't call attention to yourself, try and blend in, always blend in,) so he doesn't notice them opening the door to Raven's room until their gentle babble washes over him.

"What happened?" a gangly red-head is asking the doctor, who looked quite overwhelmed.

"Raven, can you hear me?" a girl with long dark hair and barely visible tattoos on her back rushes to Raven's side, gripping her hand tightly.

A dark skinned man moves to her other side and peers down at her concernedly.

"Her brainwaves are fairly constant and active-" the doctor begins but a tall man with an intimidating face cuts him off.

"Brainwaves? What's wrong with her?" he shoots a look to a shorter man at his side, who raises a hand to his temple like he's stressed.

Hank is feeling pretty stressed himself, to tell the truth. Even when both his parents were alive they were a family of three and this noise is unfamiliar and uncomfortable. He doesn't belong here, with these kind looking people and their gentle concern. He starts to edge towards the door, hoping none of them would notice him.

No such luck. The man with the serious face and the eagle eyes catches sight of him when he's halfway to the door. "Who the hell are you?" he snaps.

"I'm um, Hank? Hank McCoy?" he offers and the man gives him a suspicious look.

"Why are you here?"

Nurse Moira cuts in. "What do you mean why is he here? He's her fiancée."

Oh fuck.

"Her what?" the brunette woman shrieks, jumping to her feet.

"She didn't tell us she was engaged!" the red-head protests.

"No, um. What?!" Hank says.

"To be fair," the maybe-stressed man says, looking the most calm out of everyone there, "we haven't seen Raven in a long time."

"He's more than her fiancée," Moira adds helpfully. "He saved her life."

Which is, yeah, maybe a bit true but he didn't tell Moira that.

There's a brief lull in the voices around him and Hank has a relieved second to think maybe it's all over. Then they all rush at him and he's in the middle of a giant group hug. The maybe-stressed man is muttering thanks softly and the red-head is loudly exclaiming his surprise and gratitude.

The suspicious man stays out of the hug (Hank can't really see him as a big hugger anyway.) When they all finally pull away, Hank feels a bit dazed and confused.

"Thank you so much for saving her. It's such a shame we couldn't meet you sooner," maybe-stressed says cheerfully. "My name is Charles Xavier."

Hank nearly drops his coat and his jaw definitely falls open. "The Charles Xavier? Renowned expert on Genetics and Mutants?"

Charles peers at him curiously. "Did Raven not mention it?"

Hank shuffles his feet awkwardly. "It never came up."

Charles frowns slightly but doesn't comment. "Yes, that's me. Are you a fan?"

Hank is trying very hard not to gape like an idiot. He suspects he fails, judging by the way the red-head is snickering. Suspicious looks amused. "I've read your books," he says eagerly. "I've wanted to talk to you about your theory on the Mutant gene in family groups."

Charles brightens. "Are you interested in genetics?"

Hank grins. "I'm getting my doctorate, actually."

"Really?" Charles looks thrilled. "Where are-"

The brunette groans. "Oh my god, Charles. Don't hog him all to yourself. We want meet the nice boy Raven fell for too." She hip checks Charles out of the way and sticks out her hand. "Hi. I'm Angel. Raven's adoptive sister."

"Nice to meet you." Hank says nervously, trying to sound like he's heard of all their names before.

Suspicious gives him a cold look. "So, how long have you and Raven been dating?"

"Um, about, um," Hank falters. Charles gives Suspicious a reproving look.

"Erik, play nice," he turns back to Hank with a smile. "The rude one is my partner, Erik."

Erik grunts.

"Don't forget about me!" the red-head chimes in, pushing himself forward. "I'm Sean. and the quite one over there is Darwin."

Hank gives the black man an interested look. "Darwin, really?"

The man holds up his hands defensively. "Not you too, man. It's just a nickname."

Hank grins in spite of himself.

"So, how did you two meet?" Angel asks eagerly.

"Yeah, wasn't she dating that guy, what was his name?"

"Azazel." Charles replies with distaste.

"Oh my god, did you steal her away from him?" Angel gushes. "I bet you did, didn't you? Was it romantic?"

"Let him tell the story, Angel." Darwin chides.

"I am letting him tell it." Angel snaps back without looking away from Hank. "What did you first like about her."

That, at least, Hank can answer. "Her smile."

Angel makes a cooing noise and Charles gives him a soft look.

"I should, um, go." Hank says shiftily. "I think the cops still want to talk to me."

The others all make disappointed noises that make Hank feel a little warm inside, it's been a long time since anyone other than his cat has cared whether he comes or goes.

He grabs Moira's arm on the way out.

"Why did you tell them I was her fiancée?" he hisses to her.

"You said you were!" she protests. Hank groans.

"I wasn't serious! We've never even spoken to each other!"

"Then why did you say you were going to marry her?" she demands angrily.

"I was talking to myself!" he protests, throwing his hand up the air.

Moira yanks her arm from his hand. "Well, next time, tell yourself you're single and end the conversation!" she snaps. "I'm going in there to explain it to them."

Hank catches her arm again. "You can't!"

Moira glares at him. "Why not?"

"That man in there is my hero!" Hank says, making a vague gesture towards the room "And, their daughter or sister or whatever is in a coma! If you tell them now it will devastate them!"

"Oh yes, and waiting until later is a much better plan!" Moira snaps, but she sighs, giving him a piercing look. "You said you were going to marry her. Why?"

Hank sighs, pushing his glasses up his nose. "I'm in love with her. How pathetic is that? We've never even spoken and I'm in love with her."

Moira pats his arm. "It's alright. I won't say anything."

Hank only sort of feels relieved.

--

Hank comes back later that night because he doesn’t have anything else to do and no one should be alone on Christmas, not even coma patients.

He sits beside her bedside and thinks about taking her hand but decides that would be too forward. He studies her face, her pink lips slightly parted, her blonde hair arranged delicately around her. She’s beautiful, and even though he knows it’s fake he can’t help but be struck by it.

But then again, what drew him to her in the first place wasn’t her looks, it was her vivacity and the sheer personality in her smile and that’s deeper than whatever skin she happens to be wearing now.

Watching her lie there, so still and quiet and he can’t help but think of Sleeping Beauty and he wonders if her kisses her- would she wake up? The idea makes him smile, but it’s not as ridiculous as it could be, with him sitting next to a shapeshifter and his own speed, strength and stupid goddamn feet. Not for the first time, he wishes he had a useful mutation, like healing.

“I bet you’re wondering what I’m doing here.” Hank begins- he’d heard once that talking to coma patients could help them- or was that plants? He’s fully aware that this is the first non-coffee related thing he’s ever said to her, but he doesn’t feel awkward. Which is just great, because of course he only feels comfortable around coma patients, that’s pretty typical of his life.

“My name is Hank McCoy,” he continues softly. “I have a doctorate in biochemistry and am working on a second one in genetics,” he laughs quietly. “I guess that means I’m a bit of a nerd,” he pushes his glasses up his nose and takes a deep breath. “Your family thinks we’re engaged. Sorry about that. I just don’t know how to tell them the truth. I don’t even know how it happened, really. It all happened so fast. I mean, if you were awake, this wouldn’t even be a problem.”

He sucks in a sharp breath. “Not that I’m blaming you or anything! No. I’m sure you’d rather be awake too. No, this is all on me. It’s just, you know. I never really expected to be with anyone, who would want to be with me?” he chuckles without humor. “Have you ever been lonely? I don’t see how you could be, with a family like that but I shouldn’t make assumptions- I guess that’s the scientist in me.

“Have you ever spent Christmas by yourself? So alone the only person you have to visit is a stranger in a coma?” Hank drops his head into his hands, wondering how this became his life.

He doesn’t see Charles standing just outside the door, one hand raised to his temple and a serious expression on his face.

--

Hank is startled when he wakes up and finds himself, not in his apartment with Schrodinger perched on his chest, but at a hospital, lying next to a pretty blonde girl. As an overworked doctoral candidate, Hank is used to being tired and even used to waking up in strange places, but this is first, even for him.

He rubs his eyes sleepily, wondering what woke him up. He gets his answer when his eyes come to rest on a shock of bright red hair.

“Did you sleep here?” Sean asks, sounding surprised.

“Yes.” Hank mumbles. He refrains from saying ‘obviously’ but only barely.

“Cool. The others are on their way up. I just ran on a ahead.”

“Oh,” Hank stand up quickly. “I should leave.”

“Don’t bother. They’ll be happy to see you.”

“Great,” Hank mutters.

“They’re very protective of Raven.” Sean explains cheerfully, clearly unaware of how much he isn’t helping. “We’re all really glad you’re here. It’s like you’re a link to her, you know? Even Erik is happy!” Hank doubts that. “I know he looks scary.” Sean continues, as though he’d heard Hank.

Hank gets a panicked flash of ‘What if he can read minds!’ because that’s possible now, but he calms him self down. Unfortunately, it doesn’t last long, because Sean is still talking. “But Erik really loves Raven. She’s like a sister to him.” Sean laughs. “You know, Erik used to hunt Nazi’s. Before he met Charles, obviously. Oh look, here they come.”

Sean waves at the others through the glass. Erik’s face is still serious and oh, god, Hank can totally see it. He can completely see this man as a Nazi killer and oh my god, he’s going to die. Erik is going to kill him and Charles Xavier, Hank’s personal hero, is going to help him hide the body because that’s what partners do and he just looks too friendly anyway and Hank did not see it ending like this.
“Hank slept here!” Sean says cheerfully, completely missing Hank’s growing terror.

“That’s sweet,” Charles says.

Erik smiles too. It looks like a shark bearing his teeth before a kill. Hank makes a high pitched squeaking noise that he’ll deny later.

“How’s she doing?” Darwin asks, moving around to get a better look at Raven.

“Good. Um, I think? Her color is better.” He’s not entirely sure if that’s good for her or not, since her natural color is blue but he figures it’s probably fine. He was pre-med at Harvard and he can, at least, tell that all her vital signs are strong and positive.

“That’s wonderful,” Charles says, visibly relaxing. Hank starts to edge towards the door, but Erik stops him.

“We didn’t get to have our holiday dinner yet. We’d like you to join us.”

Angel looks up from Raven. “Yeah! You should totally come. It’ll be great.”

“Um. I don’t think-”

“It’ll be fun!” Sean interrupts him.

“Here. I’ll give you our address, come if you want to.” Charles says, pulling a business card from him pocket and scribbling an address on it. “Feel free to call if you’d like- you’re welcome anytime.”

Hank takes it, throat tight. “Thank you,” he says finally and flees before he can get himself into trouble.

--

Hank spends a lot of time staring at his fridge, where he pinned Charles' business cards. Though. part of it is simple awe- (he has Charles' Xavier's business card!) the rest of is trepidation and indecision. Should he go their party?

He wants to- it was better than spending another night alone, which he'd always hated. Besides, it was Christmas. Well, boxing day if he was specific, but it wasn’t like he'd had a proper Christmas to begin with.

He looks at Schrodinger for advice. Schrodinger blinks at him. Well, no help from that corner, obviously.

It's the sight f his Christmas tree that decides him- set up large and cheerful in the center of his room, strung with lights and nothing beneath it. He grabs the business cards from the fridge and heads out to his car.

He passes Jean-Paul on his way out the door.

"Hey Hank! I have to tickets to ice-capades for us!" he says excitedly, waving two tickets under Hank's nose.

"That's great," he mutters, easing past Jean-Paul because he's pretty sure Westchester is a long drive away and he's going to be late if he doesn't leave now.

When he does finally pull up to the housel his jaw almost drops open in shock. It's huge- a mansion almost an hour away from the city.

He clutches his gift poinsettia close to his chest for comfort and the only reason he doesn't turn right around is that it's starting to snow and it's at least another hour back.

He rings the bell with a growing sense of trepidation and almost turns and runs when he hears how much it echoes.

"Hank!" Angel yells when she opens the door. "You made it!" she throws her arms around him in a hug and he pats her back awkwardly, trying not to drop the poinsettia.

"Um, yes?" Hank says tentatively. He holds out the poinsettia like he's warding off an attack. "I brought this for you!"

She takes it with a grin. "Awesome! This will really brighten the kitchen! Come on in, everyone's in the sitting room."

Hank tries very hard not to stare around the house like an idiot, but he suspects he fails. Despite the size of the house, the others are easy to find- they just have to follow the sounds of the voices and laughter.

"Hey, everyone! Hank's here!" Angel says, pushing Hank ahead of her like she can sense his reluctance. Hank stumbles slightly but catches himself before he can fall flat on his face.

"Hi," he says, waving awkwardly.

They all smile at him and Hank feels warm. "Hey, Hank, over here, man!" Sean yells, pounding the chair beside him and Hank can't help but smile.

"We already started eating." Charles says apologetically. "We weren't sure if you'd make it. Help yourself to whatever you want."

Hank has to take a moment to stop and stare at all the food. It's not that he has to starve himself, but his metabolism is really fast and he can rarely afford to eat his fill. He hasn't seen this much food in.

He barely has a chance to serve himself- Sean puts some ham on his plate from one side and Darwin loads his plate with mashed potatoes from the other and Angel, sitting across from him, shoves the plate of turkey into his hands without asking.

"Don't worry, man, they're always like this," Darwin assures him. "They did it with me too. You're too skinny."

Hank can't deny that, and he is starved so he takes some of the turkey and serves himself some green beans before someone else does it for him.

The conversation rages around him and he doesn't try to jump in, simply enjoying the experience of watching and listening.

"I got a new job," Sean announces proudly. The many groans he gets in response clearly aren’t the answer he was expecting. "What?"

"Again, Sean?" Darwin says reprovingly and Sean makes a protesting noise.

"It's a good job! An awesome job, even. Way better than Angel's."

Angel smacks him hard in the arm. "It's a fucking temporary position, asswipe."

"It's Hooters." Erik says coolly and she glares at him.

"Temporary position!"

Sean mutters something rude about other positions she's making and she evidently kicks him, because he jerks and cries out.

"Alright, what's your job?" Charles asks patiently.

"You are looking at the new Junior Senior Correspondence Corespondent Associate of Sony!" Sean announces proudly. They all stare at him.

"You're a mailman," Erik translates flatly. Sean deflates.

"Yes," he admits, shamefaced and everyone laughs. "You guys suck," he mutters.

"What do you do, Hank?" Charles asks politely.

Startled at being addressed, Hank falters. "Oh, I'm a student. Sort of. I'm getting a doctorate at NYU.”

“Really?” Darwin looks interested, but Angel and Sean have gone back to making faces at each other. “How old are you?”

Hank ducks his head. “Almost 23.”

"No way!" Sean practically yells in his ear. "That's one year younger than Alex," he slumps down onto the table, head in his hands. "I feel like sure a failure in life!"

Unsure how to take this new and terrifying development, Hank pats Sean on the shoulder awkwardly. No one else seems to be taking Sean's pronouncement very seriously though, so Hank isn't sure if he should do something else.

"If it helps, I graduated college at sixteen," he offers. Sean lets out a wail that actually makes all the glasses on the table vibrate.

"I'm eighteen!" he cries. "That makes me feel worse!"

"Oh. Um, sorry?"

Charles puts his hand over his own glass to steady it and smiles at Hank. "Don't worry about him, Hank. He tends to be a bit dramatic when the subject of his future comes up."

"I'm not dramatic!" Sean protests loudly and one of the vases along the back wall develops a slight crack. Hank eyes it nervously.

"Yes, that's quite enough of that." Charles says firmly. "How long have you been in New York, Hank?"

"Only about a year and a half. I started at NYU last fall."

"And where were you before that?"

"I was in Boston," he leaves it there. He doesn't think that Sean could handle hearing that he's already gotten a doctorate in biochemistry as well.

"And when did you meet Raven?"

Oh yeah- that thing where they thought he was engaged to their sister. "Um, about three months ago?"

Erik frowns at him and Hank tries not to eye the knife by Erik's right hand with too much trepidation. "That's not much time."

Hank shrugs helplessly. "Love at first sight?" he offers and, somehow that seems to mollify Erik, who doesn't seem the type to believe in such things.

Charles laughs, putting his hand on Erik's with a warm look. "Don't listen to him. We didn't know each other for over a month before he moved in, and I'm sure he would have proposed if it had been legal."

Hank shuffles, uncomfortable. It's legal now, he wants to say, but he feels like that would be inappropriate.

As it turns out, he needn't have worried.

"What's your excuse now then?" Angel calls at them. Erik scowls at her.

"Mind your own business." he snaps. Angel raises her hand placatingly.

"Touch-y," she grumbles and Hank smiles. He had never doubted that his parents had loved him, but they had never been like this. They were always quiet, always reserved and it had occurred to him as soon as he was old enough to worry about it that both of them had been burdened and strained by the stress of having a mutant son.

"Are we done talking yet?" Sean demands, apparently having gotten over his worries. "Because there's a huge pile of presents that need to be opened!"

Angel leans across the table to smack him. "You're so greedy!" she reprimands.

Sean glares at her. "Don't even pretend you don't want presents. You've been eyeing that hair-dryer shaped box all week."

Angel glares right back. "We have a guest, at least I have some self control."

Sean makes a loud noise that clearly conveys his skepticism.

"I'd think we better go open presents, darling," Charles says to Erik with a smile. "If only to avoid warfare."

Erik gives Charles a soft, affectionate look. "You spoil them.'

Charles leans over to give Erik a peck on the cheek. "I spoil everyone."

Erik gives a mock shudder. "Don't remind me."

Charles grins. "You spoil me too, dear. Don't think I didn't notice the changes you made to the house."

They smile at each other and Hank is struck wondering how too people can be so besotted with each other after all this time.

Sean makes a gagging noise. "If you two are done being sappy, can we please do presents now?"

They make their way to what Hank supposes is the living room. There's a large tree with an obscene number of gifts piled beneath it, and he's surprised to see a cheerful looking menorah in the window, candles burned down, clearly having been used this past year.

"It's Erik's," Darwin explains, following Hank's gaze. "None of us are very religious, but he says it keeps him close to his family. So don't believe Sean when he complains about not getting enough, he already got half his presents at Hanukkah."

Privately, Hank thinks this means that, yes, Charles and Erik spoil their kids rotten, but even with thoughts of his own dingy apartment and the 40 hours a week he works to pay for it, he can't resent them.

He sits on one of the chairs in the back of the room and watches the chaos around him. They all sit around the tree, exchanging gifts and talking so quickly Hank can barely follow them, though he does notice that Angel does get a sleek black hair dryer.

Other gifts are more inexplicable. Erik gets a set that contains at least 15 different kinds of metals, from gold to pewter to aluminum. Even stranger, he looks quite pleased at the unusual gift.

Sean gets a megaphone from Darwin that makes him shove the older boy over into a pile of wrapping paper.

Hank is startled when Angel turns to him, small, brightly wrapped box in her hand. "Here, Hank, this is for you!"

Hank flushes. "I didn't get you anything."

Angel laughs prettily. "Don't worry about it! It's from all of us!"

It turns out to be a silver watch that Hank recognises as being incredibly expensive.

"I can't take this!" he exclaims.

"Don't be stupid." Erik says. "Your old one is broken."

It is, but Hank can't imagine how Erik would know that, it rests on his wrist with the face mostly covered by his sleeve. "Thank you," he says finally, throat tight. If you don't count the delicate sculpture of frozen coffee that Bobby had left him, he hadn't gotten a Christmas present in years.

He's proud that his hands don't shake as he unbuckles his own watch and replaces it with this new one.

--

Hank has to sit outside after a while, the noise and familiarity overwhelming after so many years on his own. He's only there for a minute before he hears someone come up beside him.

"Are you having fun?" Charles asks. Hank nods mutely. Charles doesn't seem to require any more of an answer, he just sits down next to Hank on the cold steps. "You know, I met Raven when I was twelve years old."

Not biologically related then, that's interesting. "Oh?" Hank prompts when Charles falls silent.

"She was eight. I found her trying to steal food from my kitchen. I convinced my parents to take her in," he gives Hank a sharp look. "I've taken in everyone who lives here now," he pauses for a moment, considering. "Except maybe Erik. He took himself in and I gave him a place to do it." Hank smiles a bit at this.

"But," Charles continues severely, "My point is, I have come by this family through hard work and love. I would do anything to keep them from being hurt."

Hank thinks this over, thinks of all the love he's seen in the past two hours, of the effortless and carefree way they had all accepted him, without question. "So would I," he replies, meeting Charles eyes. Charles moves to brush a strand hair back behind his own ear, fingers brushing his temple.

"Good." he says with finality, standing up. "You're free to stay the night."

Hank nods. He doesn't like driving at the best of times. "Thank you. I think I will."

--

He's lying on one of the guest beds when his sensitive hearing picks up a commotion in the hallway.

"Alex!" he hears Angel whisper. "You're back!"

There's a scuffle of movement that Hank guesses is a hug or something similar and an unfamiliar voice says. "You don't have to sound so surprised, I said I'd be back, didn't I?"

"You're late," Angel says reprovingly.

Another light rustle of fabric and Angel laughs as Hank hears Alex say "I'm here, aren't I?"

Angel laughs again and, through her giggles, says "Quiet! You'll wake Hank."

"Hank? Who is Hank? Did we take in another one? Please tell me he does something cool. If we get another one like Sean I'm never coming back."

"No, he's Raven fiancée."

"What? Are you serious?"

"Yep! He saved her life and everything."

Alex skips right past that declaration. "Are we talking about the same Raven? The same Raven who says marriage is an archaic institution to trap women into a life of menial labor?"

"Love changes people," Angel replies. "Look at Erik. Remember the week we met him?"

"I thought he was going to kill me with a spoon," Alex admits and Hank smiles slightly.

"There you go. Besides, Hank is great. You'll like him."

"Oh yeah? What's he like?"

Angel seems to consider this. "Smart."

Alex makes a skeptical noise. "Uh-huh. Sounds fantastic. Charles must be happy, at least."

"You have no idea," Angel confides. "I'm going to bed. Don't wake Hank!"

--

Hank wakes up at six the next morning and is immediately torn. He wants to stay for breakfast (he wants to stay forever) but he's nervous about staying around longer, afraid he might slip up. That, and he has work in three hours.

He gathers up his stuff quickly and slips out into the hall. He makes it all the way down the stairs when he almost runs directly into an unfamiliar blond boy coming out of the kitchen holding toast and a cup of coffee.

"Leaving so soon?" he asks suspiciously.

"Um, yes?" Hank says, holding up his coat as evidence.

The boy, who Hank figures must be Alex, gives him a slow once-over and Hank flushes at the disdainful look in his eyes. "You're Raven's fiancée? You don't look like much."

Hank feels like he should be offended by that, but he's too busy being worried about being caught out. He shrugs helplessly.

"You're not her type," Alex continues. "God, you're like classic nerd."

Hank flushes brighter, not sure how to respond. He feels like he should apologize for something, but he's not sure what. "I have work," he says hesitantly, trying to move past Alex.

Alex doesn't move so Hank has to squeeze by him in the narrow hall and he can feel Alex's eyes on him all the way out.

--

"I don't see what the problem is." Bobby says as he starts up the coffee machine.

Hank sighs. "They think I'm engaged to Raven. Who's in a coma."

"Raven, that blonde you make eyes at every morning at eight?"

"Yes, thanks so much for summing that up for me." Hank snaps

Bobby raises his hand. "Hey, I didn't pretend to be engaged to a coma patient," he protests.

"What am I going to do?"

"This may be crazy, but you could always tell them the truth."

"Bobby, she is in a coma! I can't tell them now! Besides, her foster-unofficial-brother-in-law kills Nazi's. For fun! Can you imagine what he'd do to me if he finds out?"

"Wait, Nazi's? For real?" Bobby asks, suddenly interested.

"Bobby, focus! If I tell them now, I'll end up in a coma."

"Then wait until she wakes up."

"That's worse!"

"Then, I don't know, never tell them!" Bobby throws up his arms in defeat. Hank gives him a dirty look.

"You're useless."

"You know, I have problems too, man," Bobby protests. "If I touch my girlfriend, I die. You don't hear me whining about it," Hank suspects this is more out of respect for Marie than anything else, but Bobby is right.

"Sorry. I'm just a bit stressed."

"Yeah, I can see that. Don't worry about it."

Hank sighs and puts his head in his hands. At least it probably can't get any worse.

--

"Don't you think it's weird though?" Alex was saying to a thoroughly skeptical crowd.

"I thought Hank seemed nice," Angel protests

"I liked him," Sean agrees. Alex frowns at him, because Sean tended to like everyone.

"I'm just saying, I don't trust him."

Angel boos him. "You don't trust anyone!" This is true and Alex couldn't really argue.

"I thought Hank seemed like a fine young man." Charles interjects and Alex falters. Charles is, by virtue of an incredibly unfair advantage, the best judge of character among them.

"But, don't you think it was weird that he just ran out this morning?" he returns.

"It's called a job, Alex, you should try and get one!" Angel calls and Alex glares at her. He'd lost his last job at a place selling furniture due to the unfortunate circumstance of him setting half of their stock on fire. It was still a touchy subject with him.

"Oh, hey, Alex!" Sean yells, despite the fact that there is less than five feet between them. "I got a job!"

Everyone else groans.

Alex ignores Sean completely. "I'm going by his apartment."

--

Hank's apartment is in one of the less pleasant areas of town and Alex's conviction that Hank is not the sort of man Raven would date is further enforced. He ends up parking almost ten blocks away, partly due to space and partly because he really doesn't feel like having his car stolen today.

He stops the first person he sees outside the building when it occurs to him that he has no idea what Hank’s apartment number is.

"Excuse me?" he asks a tall man with dark hair and an easy smile. "Do you live here?"

"Sure do. My sister and I own the place," he smiles winningly and holds out a hand. "Jean-Paul Beaubier."

"Right. Well, then you'd know Hank McCoy."

It's only a lead in to 'and can you tell me where he lives?' but Jean-Paul interrupts him. "Know him? He's my boyfriend!"

Which is definitely not okay. Alex thanks him as politely as possible with his jaw clenched tight and energy sparking on the edges of his finger tips and pooling in his chest.

He'd thought that Hank McCoy was a bit of a nerd, sort of a loser who may have lied to get in with the wealthy Xavier family. He would not have guessed 'two-timing bastard' for timid, bow-tied Hank McCoy.

--

Hank decides to swing by the hospital after his shift and is somehow not surprised to see Raven's whole family clustered around her bed, because that's just how his luck works.

Alex looks up when he enters and Hank is disconcerted to see a cold glint in his eyes.

"So, Hank." he says. "I was thinking we should play some music for Raven. You know her favorite song, right?"

Hank doesn't have the faintest clue. Luckily, Sean saves him.

"Oh, that's an easy one! It's 'Part of Your World' from the Little Mermaid."

"Mermaid." Hank echoes. "Yes, she loves that song."

Alex gives him and Sean a dirty look. "What's her favourite ice-cream flavor?"

"Rocky-road." Hank answers promptly. Coffee X-press was right next to an ice-cream shop and she's passed by with a cone more than once.

"Her favourite Sailor Scout?"

Hank's response is pure guesswork. "Sailor Mercury."

Alex glares at him. "She was everyone's favourite," he says grumpily.

"Alex, what are you up to?" Erik demands.

"He," Alex points at Hank for emphasis, "is not Raven's fiancée."

Fuck.

"Alex!" Angel groans. "Not this again!"

"Why this time?" Darwin asks.

"Because he is dating Jean-Paul Beaubier!" Alex announces, with the air of a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat.

Hank can't help it. He snorts. "Jean-Paul? He wishes! He's not my type."

"Why?" Alex jumps on him immediately. "Because he's a guy? Are you homophobic?"

"Alex," Charles says reprovingly

"What? No! He's a flirt. Don't trust anything he says." Hank replies, too indignant to be nervous.

Alex crosses his arms over his chest. "Ok. Prove it."

"What?" and oh, look, the nervousness is back.

"Prove that you're Raven's fiancée."

"What the fuck, Alex?" Angel demands angrily.

But the others are watching him expectantly and Hank is desperately searching for something to say.

"I know she's a mutant!" he blurts and they all go tense. "A shapeshifter."

"How do you know that?" Erik asks, voice deadly calm.

"It's ok!" Hank assure them, sensing danger in the air. "I, um," he stumbles, he's never told anyone before. But if he were to tell anyone, it would be these people. "I am too."

They all stare at him.

"Seriously?" Sean demands. Hank shrugs.

"Yes?"

"What can you do?" Alex asks suspiciously.

"Really, Alex?" Angel glares at him.

"I, um." He can't say it, not among this group of people who he likes and respects so much.

Darwin seems to sense his hesitation. "I am too."

Hank's head whips up to stare at him. "Really?"

Darwin gives him a small smile. "You sound surprised."

Hank ducks his head. "I am. Raven is the second mutant I ever met," and he hadn't even known it. The other one is Bobby, who had 'outed' himself when he had spilled scalding coffe on himself and it had frozen before it could touch his skin. He'd been the first and only person beside his parents Hank had voluntarily shown his feet to.

Angel makes a soft sympathetic noise and moves to hug him. "Second ever? Poor baby," She seems to get, somehow, the aching loneliness that fills him, the sadness at being the only mutant, at thinking he's all alone, despite what he sometimes sees on the news.

"I can fly," she whispers, her arms around him. He pulls back.

"Like, on your own?" he asks and she grins at him.

"Well, with my wings." she turns and glares at the others with a fierce expression. Sean steps forward.

"I'm a mutant too," he says it with the air of someone confessing to spending 5 hours playing Halo; a little sheepish but not ashamed. It's a novelty to Hank, who had only ever been told 'do not let people see your feet' since the second he realized he was different.

"I can show you!" Sean adds eagerly, stepping forward. Charles puts a restraining hand on his shoulder.

"Absolutely not," his gaze turns to Hank. "We are all mutants, Hank. Erik can manipulate metal," oh god, that's even more terrifying, "and I am a telepath." He meets Hank's eyes as he says it. 'Oh fuck!' Hank thinks, probably quite loudly. Charles lips twitch into a smile.

"So, what do you do?" Alex demands again.

"Oh my god, Alex, are you serious?" Angel asks, smacking him.

"I'm, um, I can be pretty fast. And strong, I guess," he hears a whisper in the back of his head 'you are not alone' and he meets Charles eyes with a startled expression. Charles just smiles at him so Hank takes a deep breath "And there's more. I have a physical mutation."

Angel makes a delighted little noise that makes Hank feel gratified.

"Good," She says. "It's just been me and Raven so far. And Azazel, but he was a dick, so we don't count him. What is it? Can I see?"

Hank can't say no in the face of her eagerness. Slowly, he slips off his shoes, and then his socks. For a minute, he stands there with his toes curled in, hesitant and afraid. Then, slowly, he unfurls them. It feels wonderful, stretching them against the floor and not being squished and cramped into his horrible shoes. (It really has nothing to do with the shoes and much more to do with him.)

"Wicked!" Sean is the first to speak and Hank looks up, startled. They're all smiling at him and he feels relief so strong he almost gets lightheaded. Alex opens his mouth to say something but Charles gives him a sharp look, hand raised to his temple and Alex fall quiet.

Hank is glad, he doesn't think he can take any of Alex's cruel words right now, on the first time he's ever shown this many people his feet.

"You should come by the mansion sometime!" Angel say eagerly. "We can show you where we train. You can train with us."

Hank smiles. "Yeah. That sounds nice.”

--

Hank is quite familiar with invitations that people don't really mean. He's even familiar with invitations that people think they mean but, when he goes to take them up on it, find that they really didn't want him there after all.

So he's surprised when Angel calls him two days later and asks where he is an why he hasn't come over yet. She sounds so indignant that he ends up in his car on the way to Westchester before he even knows what he's doing.

When he makes it to the mansion, Sean and Angel meet him at the door and drag him off to what they call their training room and Sean breaks three windows (he was only trying to break two) and Angel makes a hole in the wall with her spit.

"Have you ever tried flying?" Hank asks enthusiastically, after watching the way Sean used his sonic waves.

Sean frowns at him. "What do you mean? You mean, like, with Angel?" They shoot each other shifty looks and edge away from one another slightly.

"No. I think that if you have the right suit, the waves you make could actually carry you."

Sean gives him a skeptical look. "Waves."

Hank shrugs. "If you give me twenty-four hours, I can bring you a suit and you can test it out."

"Twenty-four hours." Angel says flatly. "Really?"

Hank nods. If there is one thing he is confident in (and it pretty much is the one thing) it is his own intelligence.

Angel gives his a skeptical look. "Can you do it from here?"

Hank thinks it over. "I'll have to get some material, but yes."

"Good. Let's go."

They end up having to ask Charles where to go (he has no idea, but apparently Erik knows where to get military grade nylon and Hank really wishes he was more surprised.)

Hank is halfway through putting the wing straps together when Alex comes into his guest room. "I hear you're making Sean a magic flying suit."

Hank shrugs, uncomfortable. "It not magic, it's science."

Alex snorts. "Yeah, ok."

Hank sets aside the buckle he'd been working on. "Was there something you needed?" he asks.

Alex leans a hip against the table. "Dinner. Apparently, you're supposed to come."

"But I'm still working," he says and holds up the buckle as evidence.

Alex shrugs. "Suit yourself. I don't care. They might send Erik next though."

Hank flinches and hastily puts the buckle down. Alex starts walking out of the room, clearly expecting Hank to follow him. Hank has to rush after him, almost tripping over his own feet out the door. Alex snorts.

"But, I don't understand."

"That must be a first for you." Alex replies but relents when he sees Hank's expression. "Alright, what don't you understand?"

"Why do they care whether or not I come to dinner? They don't even know me."

Alex shrugs. "Beats me. I guess they like you or something." His expression implies a deep skepticism and Hank ducks his head and flushes.

And, of course, he trips over the bottom stair and is saved from falling flat on his face only by Alex's arm around his chest.

"Jesus Christ, you're a mess." Alex grumbles, helping Hank get back to his feet. "Did you trip over your giant clown feet, Bozo?"

Hank flushes, partly out of anger but mostly in embarrassment and yanks himself free without saying anything. It was stupid of him to think that everyone would accept him anyway. Assholes are a part of life, even Mutant ones.

Hank pushes ahead of Alex to the dining room, taking a seat on the opposite end of the table from him and resolves to just stay out his way. It's the best way to deal with bullies, he's learned.

Instead, he gets Charles talking about some of his studies.

"I'm particularly interested in your theories on familial relationships having similar mutations. Is that a theory or do you have an actual case study to work with?"

Charles gives him a secretive smile. "It's based on a real family, yes. But they prefer to remain anonymous."

"Oh." Hank sinks back in his chair, a bit disappointed.

Up the table, Alex snorts. "Like they'd want you poking at them like a lab rat."

"Don't you believe in academic exploration?" Hank asks, too indignant to feel shy.

Alex shoves his chair back from the table. "It's not like it's ever done me any good," he snarls and storms out.

Hank watches him go, startled and feeling a bit guilty. Angel puts a comforting hand on his arm.

"Don't worry about Alex. His mutation isn't easy to deal with. We try to help, but there just isn't much we can do."

"What is it?" Hank asks and Charles interrupts kindly.

"That is Alex's story to tell, if he wishes to discuss it with you, he will."

Hank turns his attention back to his plate, pushing some of his food around idly. After a moment, he changes the topic. "Are you planning to start some sort of training program here?"

Charles sighs. "That was my plan, initially. I want to provide a safe haven for mutants to stay, a place where they can learn to control their powers and where they would always feel accepted."

"That sounds wonderful." Hank says.

Charles grins ruefully. "Unfortunately, it works much better in theory. I have not been able to find many mutants. Raven was the first I ever met, Erik was the second, almost fifteen years later. I found everyone else by accident. More or less."

Hank doesn't reply. He's theorised, about 5 years ago, about ways that he could use to find other mutants. He'd come up with a rough sketch, some plans and some designs to build a machine that could find them. In the end, he'd had to abandon it because he had lacked the necessary focus with which to reach out.

But Charles, a powerful telepath, might be just the thing Cerebro needed to work. That was, if Hank could get the supplies.

Charles corners him after dinner, his face alight with wonder. "I heard what you were thinking, at dinner."

Hank is startled. "Do you, uh, do that often?" he asks nervously.

Charles gives him a comforting smile. "Not too often, no. I'm usually shielded, but you were practically screaming your thoughts. Excitement tends to have that affect, I'm afraid," he gives Hank a considering look. "Do you really think you could build this Cerebro?"

Hank thinks it over. "If I had the resources, yes."

"I'll give you full access to everything this mansion has. If you need anything else, come to me and I'll get it for you."

Charles turns to leave but Hank reaches out to stop him. He stops himself short of grabbing Charles’ arm, not wanting to be rude, but Charles senses the movement anyway.

“Yes?” he asks, turning back.

“I just,” Hank stops, uncertain. “You can read minds. You know-”

Charles gives him a small smile. “That you’ve never even spoke to Raven? Yes. I went to check on Raven the first night you went to see her in the hospital.”

Hank flushes, remembering all the things he said that night. It was the sort of thing he would never have said to anyone who wasn’t, you know, in a coma.

“I’m sorry!” He blurts out. “I didn’t mean to lie. They just wouldn’t let me in.”

Charles puts a hand on his shoulder. “I know, Hank. I even understand.”

“I, really?”

Charles grins. “If you think I have gone through my entire life without lying, then you are sadly mistaken.”

Hank gapes at him. “But then, you don’t mind that-”

“Oh, I did at first. But I decided to see your point of view. So to speak.”

“What changed your mind?”

Charles thinks it over. “Do you remember the first night you stayed here?”

When Charles had said he would do anything to keep his family safe, and how had Hank missed that as the threat it was?

Charles nods, like he can tell what Hank’s thinking, and well, Hank supposes he can. That’s certainly going to take getting used to.

“I could tell that you cared for my family, that your lie wasn’t out of malice and I figured there was no harm in letting you stay. You seemed like you needed it.”

Hank ducks his head. He had needed it. He doesn’t want to give this up, this wonderful family and their crazy, accepting ways.

Charles squeezes his shoulder and gives him a comforting smile. “Don’t worry so much, Hank. It’ll work out.”

--

"Are you sure this will work?" Sean asks nervously.

"Positive," Hank says assuredly.

Sean looks to Charles instead.

Charles nods. "I thought of this myself, in the beginning. Unfortunately, I lacked the scientific know-how to make it work. Hank really is a god-send."

Hank goes pink with pleasure. "Just, um, remember to scream," he says awkwardly.

Sean gives the ground below a nervous look. "Could we start at a shorter distance?"

Charles shakes his head. "Won't work, I'm afraid."

Sean looks at him expectantly, but Charles doesn't elaborate. Sean takes a deep breath. "Right. Here goes," He sneaks another peak at the ground, then closes his eyes tightly.

He does scream on the way down. It doesn't help.

"Maybe from higher up?" Hank suggests and Sean, lying in a bush below the window, gives him the finger.

--

Hank is looking around in the basement for things that will help with Cerebro (Charles had given him full permission to ransack the bunker, which was one of the coolest things that had ever happened to Hank ever) when he hears a loud wailing noise from one of the doors to his left.

The light on the door is flashing red and Hank yanks it open without really thinking about it. The walls are on fire.

"Oh, fuck." he swears, grabbing a fire extinguisher. Belatedly, he notices Alex standing in the middle of the room, arms wrapped around his chest. "Alex, what happened?"

Alex jerks his head up to stare at him as he starts putting out the fires. They leave black rings on the walls and the floor and he notices others just like them, burned deep into the wall.

"I'm training, what the fuck does it look like?" Alex snaps. Hank can make out three blobs of badly mauled and melted plastic at the end of the wall that look like they might have once been mannequins.

Hank doesn’t say that ‘It looks like mindless destruction to me’ because Alex looks wild and a bit lost and Hank remembers what that’s like.

“Is that your power? Fire?” he asks tentatively, spraying at the wall again when one of the flames makes an attempt at rebirth.

“Shut up!” Alex snaps.

Hank goes over to stand by him. “I almost killed someone, once.”

Alex turns to look at him but doesn’t reply. Hank stares at the melted plastic as he continues. “I didn’t understand why I was changing, and I didn’t know what it meant. One of the side effects, I suppose, is that my temper is harder to control. I was twelve years old and in my senior year of high school.” he laughs ruefully. “As you can imagine, I was picked on quite a lot.

“One day, three of Seniors, proper ones who were eighteen and not twelve, were beating on me for, I think it was breaking the curve, actually. And I got so angry. I didn’t know what effects my powers would have, I didn’t even know I was stronger then. All three of them had to be hospitalized. One of them was there for almost a month.”

Alex gives him an intense look then sighs, all the tension draining out of him. “I can make circles of energy. They can cut through almost anything,” he gestures sadly at the walls. “I can’t aim them. Every time I use them someone gets hurt.”

Hank tries very hard not to be too interested. If his guess about Alex’s powers are correct, he might be able to help. “Can I see them?”

“That’s probably a bad idea.” Alex says nervously.

“Outside then. I’ll be careful.”

Alex sighs again. “Alright, fine. But get back when I tell you.”

Hank nods and follows Alex out of the house and into the grounds. Alex moves far out of the way of the house, to an open area with a large, charred target set up about twenty meters away.

“Move back,” Alex commands and Hank dutifully takes a large step back. Alex rolls his eyes. “Farther, bozo.”

Hank moves a good ten feet away. Alex clenches his hands into fists and seems to gather power into himself, swiveling his hips to form crimson circles around himself. Hank watches with awe. This is amazing. Alex lets loose with a cry and the red circles spin off. One cuts the target in half, but the another knocks off the top of a tree, sending birds flying into the air. Alex sighs.

“Good enough?” He demands loudly.

Hank moves closer, grinning broadly. “I think I can help you.”

--

Alex is skeptical, and Hank doesn’t really blame him because, as far as he knows, nothing like this has ever been tried before. Still, he lets Hank drag him back to what is quickly becoming his room, after only two nights spent here.

Alex just watches him coolly as Hank takes measurements and writes down quick jots of his ideas on old scraps of paper.

“Is this going to be like that suit you made for Sean?”

“Yes.” Hank says absently as he scribbles the equations down a piece of paper before they leave his head for good. Then “No. Um, sort of?”

“Will it actually work?”

“Yes. Absolutely.”

“Is that what you told Sean?”

“Um, no?”

Alex snorts, clearly skeptical. "Whatever. Just don't kill me, alright?"

Hank gives him a little smile. "I'll try my best."

--

As it turns out, it will take almost two weeks for the parts Hank ordered for Cerebro to arrive, so in the mean time he's free to work on the suits for Alex and Sean in his free time.Which, in this case, mostly means working on Alex's suit and watching in the background as Sean throws himself off of things.

When he finally manages to fly from the very top of the satellite disk, Hank feels like a father who's kid has just taken it's first step and Charles takes all of them out to celebrate.

(The incident does, however, give Hank another reason to never ever let Erik find out the truth about his engagement to Raven, because he’s now twice as sure Erik would kill him. As far as Hank knew, Erik liked Sean.)

After that, Alex is much more willing to sit for fittings and he even drops by Hank's room to watch Hank fiddle with the focus circle. He perches on Hank's desk on swings his legs and just watches, occasionally asking questions but mostly just sitting there quietly.

It's unnerving.

Hank is used to people leaving him alone. Or picking on him, which was not fun, but was at least
more understandable then this intense observation. At first, he had asked Alex what he wanted, and Alex had shrugged and left. Hank hadn't asked again.

Sometimes he would be really involved in his work and wouldn’t even notice Alex coming in and that's the most unsettling of all, because each time he has no idea how long Alex has been sitting there.

"I should be almost done." Hank announces proudly on his second day at the mansion, working more on fitting the disk to a harness than on making the harness itself.

"Cool," Alex says nonchalantly.

"You could test it out this afternoon."

"If you say so." Alex doesn't seem inclined to say anymore, so Hank goes back to fitting the disk firmly in place.

It takes him another two hours to finish and Alex doesn't stay the entire time, so Hank has to go looking for him. He's eating lunch, but Hank is so excited to test this prototype (and give Alex the control he so clearly craves) that he drags Alex away before he can finish.

"I'm going to stand out here," Hank explains, gesturing at the door. "You try and hit the middle one. Only the middle one." They've dragged in three more mannequins and Hank wonders absently how many Charles had bought in the first place.

"Right." Alex takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his hair. "You're sure this will work."

"Yes." Mostly. Hank waits outside until the light outside the door turns red, alarm blaring.

Two of the mannequins are on fire. The middle one is untouched.

"Right." Hank says carefully, because Alex is looking stretched thin and fragile. "It worked, at least, we just-"

"God, Bozo! Just shut up!" Alex yells, startling Hank into silence.

"I, um. I'm sorry. I'll leave."

He's made it almost to the door when Alex stops him "You don't have to go. That's not what. I'm sorry."

Hank turns slowly and catches sight of Alex's face. "Why don't we go outside for a bit," he suggests.

Alex sighs. "Yeah, that sounds good."

--

It’s mostly a pretty terrible idea, but only because it’s absolutely freezing outside.

They push their way through the snow in silence. Hank lets Alex lead, because he still doesn’t know the area very well. Alex moves like he has a specific destination in mind and Hank digs his hands deeper in his pockets and follows him quietly.

They finally stop at a small circle of trees, closing off around a miniature clearing. The ground in the center is clear of snow, the ground protected from snow fall by the thick tree leaves above them. Alex drops down to the ground and leans back against a broad trunk, looking up at Hank expectantly.

Hank hesitates, because the ground actually looks pretty cold but he finally sighs a sits down gingerly, even going so far as to lean his head back against the trunk, his shoulder brushing Alex’s lightly.

“Charles bailed me out of prison.” Alex says after a minute. Hank rolls his head over to look at him, but doesn’t say anything. “I lost control of my powers and someone got hurt. Charles read about it in the newspaper and he told to police that he could help me control it.” He laughs bitterly. “He couldn’t. He tried, but I still can’t aim it.

“I’m grateful to him, don’t get me wrong, and he did help me stop my powers from getting out of control when I get angry. But sometimes I think that he doesn’t understand what it means to be afraid of your own powers.”

Hank puts a comforting hand on Alex’s shoulder and Alex sighs, the tension flowing out of him with the breath.

“I think your suit will work,” he says, and he’s pretty sure it’s the wrong thing to say, but he can’t think of anything else.

Alex shrugs and Hank’s hand slips from his shoulder. “I’ll give it another try. Tomorrow.”

The end up staying out there for almost two hours, until Alex’s face is pink with cold and Hank can’t feel his fingers anymore.

--

Unfortunately, Hank actually has a job and he has to leave the mansion early the next morning. He makes Sean and Alex promise to practice using their suits and leaving the mansion feels harder than when his parents dropped him off at Harvard at the age of twelve.

“I think I might, you know, like Alex,” Hank confides in Bobby as they try to stay on top of the morning rush.

Bobby, only half listening while trying to make a double mocca latte, replies absently. “Is Alex your coma-girlfriend?”

The girl about to place her order gives Hank an incredulous look at that and he glares at Bobby, waiting until he has a free moment to reply. “No, Alex is her foster brother.”

“Dude!” Bobby hisses. “You’re crushing on your fake coma-girlfriend’s brother?”

Hank nods miserably. “And he still thinks I’m engaged to Raven.”

Bobby pats him consolingly on the shoulder. “You’re screwed, man.”

Hank gives him a dirty look. “Thanks for those helpful words of wisdom.”

--

Hank runs into Jean-Paul on the way up the stairs. Jean-Paul is leading a pretty boy with curly blond hair in the opposite direction, but he stops when he sees Hank, leaning against the stair-rail nonchalantly.

“Hey, Hank. Haven’t seen you around lately.”

Hank shrugs, trying to move past him up the stairs. When Jean-Paul makes no effort to move out of the way, Hank sighs and pushes his glasses up his nose. “Um, yes. I’ve been, um, busy?”

Jean-Paul looks disappointed. “I’ve missed seeing you around here. You’re the best looking guy in this building.”

The blond boy behind him makes an indignant noise and Jean-Paul turns back to him, looking sheepish. “But you are the best looking guy on the top floor!” he says consolingly. Hank shuffles his feet awkwardly and tries again to get past Jean-Paul. Jean-Paul is mostly unhelpful and Hank finally clears his throat and uses his broad shoulders to get through.

“That was really sexy!” Jean-Paul calls after him. Hank blushes furiously and doesn’t look back.

--

Hank starts sketching out full designs for Cerebro and a full-sized suit for Alex when there’s a knock at his door.

He barely has time to get up before they knock again, louder.

“I’m coming!” he calls, and the furious pounding stops. Hank isn’t sure what he’s expecting to see, but it wasn’t Alex, his fist still raised, grinning broadly. He’s happier than Hank has ever seen him look before and it actually makes him feel a bit warm inside. (Which he figures mostly means Trouble. Capital T.)

“I did it!” he exclaims loudly, pushing into Hank’s apartment like he owns it.

Hank blinks at him. “What?” He’s can count on one hand the number of people who have ever been in his apartment and he isn’t sure how to deal with the sight of Alex, looking beautiful and alive and in the middle of all of Hank’s things.

“I did it! I hit only what I was aiming at! It was fantastic!”

Hank gasps delightedly. “The suit works?”

Alex rocks back on his heels, grinning broadly. Then to Hank’s shock, he lunges forward and hugs him around the waist. Hank suspects that, if he weren’t almost six inches taller than him, Alex might have actually tried to pick him up and spin him around.

“You have no idea how great this is!” Alex mumbles into Hank’s chest, soft blond hair brushing Hank’s chin. He fights the urge to bury his face in it and slowly, carefully, wraps his arms around Alex’s shoulders.

“I’m glad.”

He gives in, just a little, and rests his head on Alex’s. After a moment, Alex pulls away, face red.

“So, uh, yeah,” he says awkwardly. He’s starting to look upset and Hank is worries that it might bloom into genuine anger so he blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind.

“We should go out to celebrate!”

Alex gives him a flat look. “Do you even know any cool places around here?”

Hank falters. “Well, no.”

Alex looks amused. “I suppose it is New York City. You can’t walk down the street without finding someplace interesting.”

“Maybe too interesting, in this neighborhood,” Hank mutters.

“I’m assuming you’ll live with Raven after the wedding?” Alex asks, his voice carefully neutral.

“What? Oh. Um, yes?”

Alex shoves him a bit harder than strictly necessary. “I guess that’ll make you a kept man, Bozo.”

Hank flushes a bit, because Alex’s words have more of an edge to them than they have for awhile now. He turns to grab his coat so that Alex doesn’t see his face. He gets a hat too and then, because Alex might be a jerk sometimes but Hank couldn’t help but like him anyway, he grabs an extra scarf. Alex had arrived wearing only a thick leather jacket and nothing to protect him from the biting wind.

Alex flat out refuses to go anywhere in Hank’s neighborhood (he says he just got the hang of the suit and he’s not getting stabbed and ruining his night) so they take Alex’s car, which is nice enough that Hank is surprised he dared to park it on this street in the first place.

“There’s this great place on West Broadway,” Alex says, and Hank blanches because he’s pretty sure he knows where Alex is talking about and he knows that it’s out of his pay grade.

Alex catches sight of his face and laughs. “Don’t worry, Bozo, I’ll pay.”

Hank makes a distressed noise. “But I was going to treat you. You know, a celebration dinner.”

Alex grins at him. “I can cover it. Promise.”

Hank subsides, grumbling. They park almost four blocks away and duck their heads against the wind, making idle conversation until they get there.

The restaurant seems disinclined to let them in without a reservation, but Alex mentions off-hand that Charles Xavier recommend this place specially and wouldn’t it be such a shame if they had to tell him they couldn’t get in. Hank stares in shock as the maitre’d ushers them to a secluded table in the back without further protest.

Alex smirks at Hank. “I’m surprised Raven never pulled that trick with you. She’s the one who taught it to me.”

“I didn’t even know you could do that in real life.” Hank says, ignoring the Raven comment.

“This is one of the more mutant friendly places in New York.” Alex explains. Looking around, Hank sees that he’s right. There’s a man with a tail three tables over and one of the women lights her candle with a flick of her fingers.

When the waiter comes over with their waters, Hank notices that he has to small horns poking out of his curly brown hair.

Alex leans over the table with a conspiratorial look. “Charles will deny it, but he secretly knows all the mutants in New York.”

Hank stares at him. “Really?”

Alex kicks him lightly under the table. “No! Idiot. He didn’t know you, did he? And that was a huge oversight, if you ask me,” He says it casually, but Hank still goes bright red and takes a bug gulp of his water to cover it. Alex doesn’t notice, mostly because he’s strictly refusing to make eye-contact after that slipped out.

They both order, Hank picking out the cheapest thing on the menu. Alex orders his own meal and a steak and refuses to tell Hank why.

While they wait, Alex pushes Hank for stories of college. Hank’s stories mostly involve trying not to draw attention to himself , but he does manage to remember a particularly volatile lab explosion that has Alex roaring with laughter, head tipped back and vulnerable throat exposed. It makes Hank feel warm and soft and more comfortable than he’s been in a long time.

“I think that’s what I hate most about having gotten arrested.” Alex says idly.

“Hm?” says Hank, taking a sip of water to try and wash away the longing that clogs his throat at the sight of Alex’s loose, easy smile.

“I was getting my Masters in geophysical science. I lost my scholarship and I can’t afford to go back.”

Hank’s eyes go wide and he chokes on his water, coughing and only barely managing not to spit it all over Alex. Alex looks like he’s about to get up and go pound Hank on the back, but Hank waves him off and gets control of himself, staring at Alex in shock.

“Your masters in geophysical sciences?” He repeats, stunned.

Alex smiles impishly at him. “Didn’t I mention it?”

Hank kicks him, lightly, because he doesn’t want to accidentally break his leg or anything.

“Yeah, I was in my second year at Columbus.”

Hank just stares at him, trying to comprehend this. It’s not that he thought Alex was stupid or anything, but- geophysics. He has to bite his lip against the urge to blurt out something really, really stupid, like ‘That’s really hot.’ Because, Jesus, it really is and Hank has a bit of a thing for smart people.

“That’s amazing.” he says reverently, surprised and charmed when Alex ducks his head, cheeks turning faintly pink. “Alex, you have to go back to school!”

Alex shakes his head. “No, I can’t. I lost my scholarship. And anyway, I need to get control of myself.”

Alex is saved from Hank’s response by the arrival of their food. To Hank’s surprise, Alex pushes the extra steak he’d ordered over to Hank.

“Eat it. You’re too skinny.”

“Alex! I can’t just-”

“Hank, I’ve seen your apartment and I’m willing to bet that you do not get enough food. You are going to eat that steak willingly, or I will force feed it to you.” Alex gives him such a fierce look that Hank actually believes he will do it. Meekly, he picks up his knife and fork and begins to eat, smiling softly at Alex every time they made eye contact.

--

That night, Alex drives Hank back to his apartment and then heads straight to the hospital.

Raven is still and quiet, so unlike her that for a moment, he want to turn and run because this isn’t right.

Instead, he pulls up a chair and drags it closer to her bed, watching her chest rise and fall, for a moment just assuring himself that she was alive.

Then he gets out the pack of cards she’d given him for Christmas two years ago and deals them both five cards. When Charles had “adopted” him, Raven had been the first of all the other children to accept him.

When he’d admitted that he’d learned poker in prison, she’d proceeded to clean him out like a pro.

For almost twenty minutes, he plays mock games of poker, sneaking looks at her cards and folding or calling as appropriate. (If her cards are better than his, she folds. If not, she raises.)

“You know, for as long as I can remember, everyone would always talk about how amazing you were.” He says, dealing them out a new hand. “I never minded. I was proud of you- proud to be your brother.”

He examines his hand closely. “You were always the closest with Charles and Erik. Always the most control of your powers. None of that mattered. I never wanted anything you had,” he sighs, letting it out is a rush. “Until now. God, Hank is- Hank is amazing. I never would have thought he’d be your type,” he laughs “Hell, I never thought he’d be my type either, but I get what you see in him now.”

Alex gives his cards a speculative look. “How about we play for Hank this round? Best cards get Hank.” He picks up Raven’s hand and looks at it, grimacing. “How about best two of three?”

--

Hank is surprised, though he probably shouldn’t be, when Angel calls him to make sure he’s coming to their New Year’s Eve Party. He shrugs and dithers and tries to think of some reason why he wouldn’t go (something that doesn’t involve ‘I think I’m in love with your brother and you think I’m engaged to your sister, so I think I should just cut ties now and maybe leave the country.’)

Angel ignores any protests he tries to make and bludgeons him into agreeing through sheer force of personality.

He spends most of the drive up trying very hard not to panic and resolving to make as little of an idiot of himself as possible- the last time he’d been to a New Year’s Party, he hadn’t even been able to vote, much less drink.

Almost all of his nervousness fades away as soon as he enters the house, calmed by the cheers and easy smiles that greet him, everyone so clearly happy to see him.

“I went flying all afternoon yesterday!” Sean says excitedly, rushing up to him with a drink in his hand and almost spilling it everywhere. “I even raced Angel.”

“That’s great,” Hank says enthusiastically.

“I won,” Angel approaches, smirking.

Sean sticks his tongue out at her, looking indignant.

Hank pats him on the shoulder sympathetically. “To be fair, she’s been flying a lot longer than you have.”

“Since I was twelve,” Angel confirms and Sean looks mollified.

“Come on, Hank! Let’s get you a drink.”

“I don’t think-” Hank begins, but Sean grabs his wrist and tugs him away before he can protest. In general, Hank tries to avoid alcohol. Even his impressive metabolism is no match for his incredible lack of alcoholic tolerance.

Hank almost tries to break free again when he sees Alex standing by the food and drinks table, examining a plate of cheese and crackers.

“Alex!” Sean calls before Hank can so much as twitch, “Guess who just got here!”

Alex turns and breaks into a broad grin that actually gives Hank butterflies as their eyes meet.

“Hey, Bozo.”

Hank ducks his head shyly. “Hey, Alex.”

They smile at each other. Angel looks between the two of them suspiciously.

“So. How did the suit work? Did you practice?”

Alex’s grin broadens. “It worked great! I think the concentrated beam is even more powerful!”

Hank had gotten a reading from his original blasts and the thought of more power is daunting. He certainly wouldn’t want it. But Alex seems excited, rather than scared, so Hank is happy for him.

Charles wanders over before Hank can reply.

“I hear Alex’s training is going well,” he says cheerfully. Hank nods, wondering if this is a lead in to a chastisement about not working on Cerebro. Instead, Charles gives him a warm look. “Have you considered doing any training of your own, Hank?”

Hank blinks at him. “What?”

“I get the impression that you have been trying to stifle your powers, rather than strengthen them. I think that you might need to, as they say, release the beast.”

Hank shuffles nervously. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Professor.”

Charles gives him a reassuring smile. “I’m sure that you’ll be fine. You’ve already done so much to help us, it only seems fair that we return the favor.”

Hank turns bright red and ducks his head again.

“I haven’t done that much,” He protests.

Alex makes a disbelieving noise and Hank’s head snaps around to look at him. “Come on, Hank,” and Hank’s pretty sure that’s the first time that Alex has said his name and it makes him feel light-headed and flushed. “You’ve done everything,” Alex says earnestly.

“There you go, Hank,” Charles says, drawing Hank’s eyes from Alex, the wide, happy feeling still filling his chest. “You’ll be staying the night, of course. Why don’t you come running with me tomorrow morning?”

Hank isn’t so sure that’s such a good idea, but Charles looks insistent and Alex is still standing right there so Hank finds himself nodding before he thinks about it.

“Wonderful!” Charles exclaims delightedly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think Erik needs some saving.”

He heads off to where Erik is being cornered by Sean, who seems to be attempting to press a karaoke microphone into his hand. Hank wouldn’t have dared, but Erik looks more amused than annoyed and Charles' rescue looks like Charles is just helping Sean egg him on.

“Aren’t they just disgusting?” Angel says from Hank’s elbow and he looks down to see her standing there with a glass of champagne in he hand, looking over at Erik and Charles with a wistful expression on her face.

“What do you mean?”

Angel snorts. “They’re just so cute! They’re like a perfect fairy-tale romance that you only hear about it books.” she slumps against the table in despair. “I’m never going to get that. Even Raven got engaged before me, and it was supposed to be me and her against the world!”

“Yes, well.” Hank says awkwardly.

“And, you’re fantastic. I’ll bet I get some ancient old pervert from Hooters who needs to be someone’s sugar daddy.”

“Elch!” Alex protests from Hank’s other side. “Keep the details to yourself!”

Angel sticks her tongue out at him. “What about you, Alex? What’s your type again?”

Alex sneaks a look at Hank, who’s watching him intensely for the answer. “Blonde,” he says firmly. “With really big boobs,” he holds his hands out in front of him to indicate the desired size and Angel snorts.

Darwin, reaching for a strawberry from the other side of the table, pauses. “I thought you were gay?” he asks.

“Oh. Yeah. That too.”

They all stare at him on confusion. “What?” he demands hotly. “I’m flexible!” he storms off without waiting for a response.

--

Dancing picks up after that. Before he knows it he’s danced with Angel and Darwin three times, twice with Sean and even once with Charles. Out of all of them, he had preferred Darwin because he didn’t need to worry about stepping on Darwin nearly as much. Alex had stayed out of the way once that dancing begins and Hank tries to pretend he’s not disappointed.

Angel grabs him for a fourth dance, but he waves her off, desperately needing water. The drink table is all alcohol and Hank has no idea where the kitchen is. (He’s not entirely sure where he is, at the moment, only that it’s on the first floor.)

He asks Alex, who gives a convoluted string of directions that ends with Alex deciding to take Hank himself.

Sean’s voice stops them as they pass through the open doorway. “Mistletoe!”

Hank freezes, looking up slowly. Sean is right. He briefly considers making a run for it.

Alex gives a robotic shrug. “May as well, Bozo. You don’t have cooties, do you?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, just grabs Hank’s shoulders and pulls him down. When their lips meet, it’s like a shock goes through Hank, his hands falling automatically the Alex’s waist, fingers clenching in the shirt.

Alex’s tongue flickers across his lips and Hank has forgotten their audience, forgotten that he’s supposed to be engaged to Raven, forgotten everything. He parts his lips, just a bit and Alex wrenches away with a gasp.

Hank’s fingers curl around the empty space where Alex had just been.

Angel whistles. “I get what Raven see in you.”

Hank flushes, shooting Alex a sideways look. Alex shrugs. “Yeah, that must be it.” he says bitingly.

Hank flushes a bit harder at the words, telling himself Alex can’t mean what he thinks he means.

“Come on, Bozo.” Alex says. “Kitchen is this way.”

Oh, right. The reason they had been leaving in the first place.

--

Alex takes two wrong turns on the way to the kitchen, but he doubts Hank notices. Alex himself is too distracted, lips still tingling, feeling lightheaded and dizzy.

“This was a really long walk. Is the house really that big?” Hank asks when they finally reach the kitchen almost five minutes later. It’s usually only takes a minute.

“It’s a pretty big house.” Alex says evasively.

Hank gets a cup from the cabinet at Alex’s direction and gets himself some water from the fridge, leaning against the counter and looking wonderfully relaxed, smiling at Alex like he matters, like he likes Alex as much as Alex likes him.

It makes him angry. It comes from that dark place inside him, the one that he tries not to think about, the one that makes him snarl at Charles when the man tries to help, that makes him lash out even when he knows the consequences.

All he can think of is that Hank is Raven’s, and he’s smiling like he’s Alex’s and it’s cruel, to tease it in front of him like that.

He’s speaking before he can stop himself, feeling the words rush from him and wanting to stop them before they’re even out. “That was some kiss.” he sneers, and Hank just cocks his head, blushing furiously and making Alex feel even angrier. “I can see why Raven likes you so much now.” ‘No, stop.’ he thinks. Hank’s expression is faltering, ducking his head so that Alex can’t see his face.

“Alex, what-”

“I mean, I had wondered,” he continued, ignoring the way everything in him is going stop, stop, stop. “What would a girl like Raven want with a geek like you? I thought, maybe she was pregnant,” his expression is ugly, he can feel a sneer twisting the corners of his lips, but the words keep coming. “But the doctor’s would have told us. But no, you’re just good in the sack. I guess that’s enough reason for Raven to keep you around. For now.”

Hank looks fragile and small, curling in on himself and not saying anything and Alex hates himself, hates that his jealousy is so overwhelming, that he can’t stop, even now. “Let me guess, you proposed to her and she just felt too bad to say no, right?”

“T-that’s not-” And god, Hank is stuttering and Alex can’t even finish what he’s saying. Hank looks up, meets his eyes and his eyes are so very blue and so vulnerable that Alex feels his breath catch and he can only be grateful, because there are more words still unsaid, but they're caught in his too tight throat and he can’t say them.

“Hank,” he forces out, wanting to reach out, wanting to apologize because Hank shouldn’t look so fragile. Why does he always break things?

Hank doesn’t let him finish, turning on his heel and almost running from the kitchen, his glass of water still sitting on the counter.

Alex leans against the wall and slides down it, putting his head in his hands.

“Fuck.”

--

Far across the city, in a quite hospital room, as the nurses toast each other and people call Happy New Year across the halls, Raven blinks her eyes and slowly sits up in bed.