First Night
Chapter 6
by
Misty
Distribution: Stoic Simplicity, http://www.wolverineandrogue.com/mistiec, list archives. Everyone else, please ask.
Spoilers: X-Men: the movie, Angel: The Series, second season finale.
Notes: Remember the whole "not too distant" future thing? Let's disregard that for now. We'll just say that the not too distant future is now, at least a year from now, in Angel's time.
Other notes: This is a LONG sucker, registered at about ... oh... 190 pages from start to finish. So I'll only be posting two chapters a day, so as not to overwhelm your inboxes. This is a crossover, but I wrote it as well as I could have so that even if you are not familiar with X-Men, or Angel, you can read the story and not feel lost.
That at least, is my intention. I hope.
Disclaimer : Um... these characters are not mine. I just played with them. So ... yeah.
Dedication: Jenn, Christie, Shaz - thanks.
"Our first stop doesn't always have to be world of the weird, you know? Sometimes actual human people can be just - awful."
~ Cordelia, Angel: The Series
It was getting cold.
Fred shuddered, wrapping her hands around her shoulders and rubbing slightly, looking up and around the cold hotel lobby, stopping to absentmindedly peel off the glasses.
Her head ached.
She took a breath, reaching over to the lamp and turning it up another notch, flooding more light into the room, chasing away more shadows.
She was tired, that was obvious. Her whole body felt heavy, and despite the years of manual labor she had had to endure in Pylea - funny how everything ended up reverting back to Pylea for her - she knew that true exhaustion came from the mind.
And God, her mind was so tired.
Her heart was thumping, and the place was so quiet she could hear the beat rumbling through her ribcage.
The last two years had been... interesting, to say the least. Life was always going to BE interesting, she supposed, when you kept the company she had kept - but it had been different. They had had their share of trials, that was true, in the years following Buffy's death and ressurection and then the whole hell of an ordeal they had to endure when Angel and Cordelia finally admitted their mutual very big like and then proceeded to ignore it and the rest of them had to pretend they had no idea it was even going on - world had almost ended, at least twice. Demons rising in Receda and other things and it had all been interesting.
It had also been fun. Fun to look up to Cordelia Chase, and to be dressed by her. Fun to go out on shopping trips and come home to three men who smiled and clapped and watched patiently - or rather, watched with feigned patience, not wanting to risk the wrath of their princess - as Cordelia made her model her clothes. Fun to watch the look in Gunn's eyes when she had tried on the most revealing and un-her thing, looking so shocked and wierded out and then just walking out.
Okay, actually that was a little disconcerting, until Angel said Gunn thought it was nice and Fred, more shaken by Gunn's rough man show than she wanted to admit, had chosen to believe it.
It had taken two years for things to get... nice. Before the pains in Cordelia's head started to get unbearable and before that look in Angel's eyes was back and Cordelia had to be put in the hospital AGAIN, and before Wesley started looking tired and Gunn started spending less and less time at the office and more and more time in that rundown apartment where she KNEW that housing regulations were not being kept.
It was all tiring.
She was tired. And sad. And alone.
The hand on her shoulder startled her, and Fred let out a squeak, hand lashing out, that was just as quickly caught by a chocolate brown one.
Gunn gave a sad smirk, looking at the little palm in his before looking down at her and letting go. "You okay?"
"Ahhh," she closed her eyes, taking in a breath and biting her lip, fumbling for her glasses. "I am just... jumpy."
"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock."
She gave him a glare, but he merely yawned, stretching out and leaning his forearms on the side of the counter.
"How'd you sleep?"
The tone was concerned, careful, and once again the guy's penchant to treat her like a china doll made her snap, "I wish you would stop that."
"Stop what?"
"Treating me like I'm a fragile. You don't treat Cordelia that way."
He let out a breath, looking down at the countertop before looking up at her. "Maybe because Cordelia don't need it."
"She needs it, trust me."
He shrugged slightly, the somber expression on his face a tad distracted. Once again she closed her eyes, pulling the glasses off and rubbing at her temples.
"Angel doesn't-"
"Yeah well you know what Fred? I'm not Angel." He bit out the words and when she looked up at him in surprise, he swallowed, eyes suddenly focusing on her.
Sometimes she could have sworn there was something behind those eyes-
The phone ringing off the hook startled her yet again, but she immediately recovered, thankful for another place to focus as she reached over, answering with a breathless hello.
"Fred."
"Angel." Her body trembled with relief and anticipation, her eyes closing. "Thank God. How's Cordelia?"
He was quiet, and it was then that Fred realized that something was... off. Her heart began to pound and dammit she hated when hearts pounded because that led to insecurity and she hated insecurity because that led to-
"She's... it's complicated."
Gunn was up and at her side, and when he reached for the phone she smacked his palm, moving away from the counter, ignoring his questing hands as she listened to Angel's quick and hurried explanation.
"Uh-huh... Oh. I see.... Well... Yes... And- Okay... But what if-... Okay."
Gunn continued to try and weave around her, and Fred finally glared at him, pushing him back and ducking under the ever questing hand. "Okay," she finally said, leaning against the wall, sighing. "Good luck."
She heard the click and her eyes closed, hugging the phone to her chest.
"FRED."
Her eyes shot open to find Gunn glaring at her. "What the hell did he say?!"
She swallowed and then moved around him, putting the phone back and grabbing her coat.
"We have to go see Lorne."
When he threw his hands up in the air, she turned around, shrugging slightly. "I'll explain on the way, Gunn."
~*~
Angel placed the phone in the cradle, hearing it find its place with a click.
Five hours into the surgery. Cordelia was behind closed doors, with the beautiful telepathic doctor and the blue furred beast man who had a surprisingly gentle soul. He had no idea what the hell was going on.
Angel sighed, letting the unneeded breath course through his dead body, biting on his bottom lip and trying to still the demon within who urged on the panic, the desperation, the need to kill anything and everything that came close to killing his mat-
His best friend.
He swallowed, his hands clenched into two hard fists as he pushed himself away from the desk, meeting the eyes of the young mutant woman with the really old eyes.
Rogue crossed her arms, nodding to the phone. "They going to be okay?"
Angel nodded shortly, feeling his body ache under the strain of trying to remain civil. "They're going to be fine. I wish I could say the same for Cordelia."
The pretty girl's jaw hardened, and her chin came up, body straightening ever so slightly as she clipped back in what he suspected was a deliberately sugar coated drawl, "Jean is the best doctor I've ever known. You're lucky you got her."
"I don't feel very lucky."
She pursed her lips, sighing as she looked away. There was a beat, and finally he just shrugged. "Okay, look. I don't want to take things out on you. I appreciate what you've done, I do. But right now-"
"You're fucked, I know." At the use of the coarse word, Angel felt a bit surprised, taking a closer look at the younger team member. The body was small, but there was a hidden strength behind it, and her face was interesting, almost as if she was lost in thought every second of the day, as if there was so much going on behind those doe eyes that every word that was edged out had a double meaning. It was interesting... eyes of an old soul trapped in the body of a young woman.
Angelus would have loved her.
Already he felt the demon within pricking with interest.
And there was a reason Cordelia's vision had pinpointed her so earnestly.
Shit. The vision.
Cordelia would kick his ass if he came out of this and hadn't done anything about her vision.
That was the reason for all this, wasn't it?
That Magneto guy... and Rogue... dying.
Angel just mutely nodded, looking away. "Would I be able to speak to the professor?"
Rogue just nodded, heading toward the door with the graceful ease he had marveled at before.
"Come on. He's in his study."
~*~
It was easier to walk with the drop dead gorgeous vampire, because then she wasn't alone.
Then Rogue could concentrate on Cordelia, because it was obvious that he thought of little else and such focused concentration aided her in thinking about nothing but her too -
Because dammit with all the shit goin' down that was really the only safe place TO think.
Her eyes flickered to the man clad in black beside her, with the haunted face and hidden strength, and once again her mind was filled with questions.
Fifteen hours with Cordelia Chase and Rogue had learned next to nothing, except for the fact that Angel was a vampire, Cordelia was most likely very close to him, a lover maybe, and that he and their little band of renegades 'helped' people.
And of course, that she was next on the list.
The thought was almost amusing if it hadn't been so damn scary. Her palms were sweating under the gloves and Rogue licked her lips, ignoring it, like she had learned to ignore it all these years. Gloves, no matter how soft or fine... were damn hot.
And the inventor of the gloves rested happily in his grave.
She smelled Logan before they turned the corner, and dammit - her fucking heart did that flip-flop thing and she didn't need it right now-
Angel must have sensed or smelled something because he looked at her, slowing his walk, gazing at her curiously.
She ignored him, eyes focused only on the Wolverine as he turned the corner, body tense and hands clenched and that only meant one thing. She knew that look, she had seen it on him on many missions.
He was a hunter looking for his prey.
Oh this was good. Just fine. Good old fashioned face-off with her best friend.
Just... fucking.... peachy.
"Rogue?" Rogue was immediately torn from the feral eyes to look into the dark abyss that was the vampire's orbs.
Angel.
Oh thank God. Distraction. Distraction was good.
"Uh... in here." She grabbed him by the elbow, and ignoring the look of surprise at the amount of strength she used, she flung open the door and pushed him inside.
She was about to follow him in when she felt an equally strong hold on her own elbow yank her back, before another hand slammed the door shut, keeping her away from the sancity of Charles' room.
"Rogue."
She closed her eyes, the warmth of the palm permeating through her whole body as the voice rasped with need and hurt and suddenly she was there again - with him - and they were-
"Logan... can't it wait?"
"No."
No. Of course it couldn't.
She didn't want to look. She didn't want to feel the twist in her heart when she turned her gaze on him, she didn't want to feel the pain that she had been fighting all day to repress, to put away.
God, if this was being in love...
It fucking sucked.
Her hand fisted into a ball and a grim smile slid over her features, as Rogue, ever the tactile, clever mutant with the killing touch and the invisible strength, let a fake smile plaster over her face that wreaked of old memories that were not hers, before turning and facing her would-be lover.
"What's up, sugar?"
~*~
Charles Xavier was an odd man, that Angel had figured out immediately. There was wisdom in those older features, a hidden peace and belief in the world that Angel still marveled at. The man permeated power - he seemed to have all the answers and Angel knew he was just as lost as they were. That kind of leadership drained.
Giles would have liked to know him.
He knew that Charles sensed him, but the bald, handsome professor did nothing that signaled he knew Angel had just been shoved into his room by a little woman with a hell of a grip.
His eyes were closed, palms cupped together as he leaned forward, breathing in and out, almost as if in deep meditation. Angel paused, unsure of what to do or say, moving about awkwardly before finally settling on standing next to a dark leather chair.
Charles let out a breath, and his eyes opened. They were curiously bright.
"Forgive me, Angel. Perhaps you'd like a cup of water?"
Angel mutely shook his head, shifting uncomfortably. He was hungry, but not for water.
Charles looked at him for a second, and then nodded, reaching over the desk and punching a button. "Kitty, would you please see if we could rustle up some blood for our vampire friend?" Angel blinked when Charles looked up and politely asked, "I assume any blood will do?"
"Uh... Pig's blood is fine."
"Pig's blood preferably."
The link was silent, before he heard a young woman respond with an utterly confused, "Okay. We might have some human in the med bay. Is that cool?"
Human blood.
Angel swallowed, feeling the urge in him rise, the salivation dripping from the fangs as the low growl slid from his body without encouragement.
"I think that will be fine." His hand left the button and Charles smiled pleasantly. "We don't normally stock blood, with the exceptions for transfusions, you'll have to forgive us." Human blood. Shit.
Angel sank into the chair. "I... I was hoping to talk to you about-" The voice was almost a rasp, but to his credit, Charles only listened without nary an expression. "You were busy. Did I disturb you?"
"No. I was merely... brooding. Perhaps it was a blessing that you pulled me out of it. Solitary confinement is not good for humanity.
We need the companionship to survive." His blue eyes bore into Angel's and again Angel felt the shudder that went through him as the man seemed to look past his eyes, deeper, into his very soul.
"Do you always have this effect on people?"
"You'd be surprised." Charles managed a smile before wheeling around the desk to meet him. "You're concerned about many things."
"Yes. But I'm here to talk about Rogue."
"Your friend had a vision of her in trouble."
"Yes."
Charles brought his fingertips together, lost in thought. "Perhaps when your friend awakens, she will allow me to see it for myself."
When. He liked that. When Cordelia awakened. Not if. When. There was no option... there was no if.
Cordelia was going to be just fine.
His muscles clenched and his grip tightened on the seat.
"She better be okay, Mr. Xavier."
"Call me Charles, and I know you're worried, Angel. I trust Jean wholeheartedly. You should too."
"I don't trust a lot of people."
"Based on experience, neither do we. Trust is a fickle thing, so I've learned." A shadow flickered over Charles' face, before he leaned back. "Right now we must use that trust and bring it together, to save Rogue and Cordelia from a very real threat."
"Magneto," Angel rasped.
"Yes. Magneto."
~*~
Shit. She was doing it again. She was pulling that shit with HIM. Logan felt the jolt inside of him, the stab of pain that told him he knew Rogue too well, way too well... because he knew exactly what she was doing, she did it with every guy she had ever blown off.
"Don't start that shit with me, Rogue."
The fake 'sass' smile faltered at the grim voice, and once more, the unsure, insecure face that was so reminiscent of the child that had long been left behind floated back in it's place.
The voice had lost the deliberate 'Rogue' drawl and she almost shrank from his touch as she whispered, pleaded, "Logan please. We can't do this now."
"I think we should."
"I know we shouldn't."
His eyes bore into hers, and he knew she could push him away if she wanted to, her and that damned invincible strength of hers. She was well on her way to being able to kick his ass, but she stayed, in between his hands that were plastered to each side of the wall beside her.
It was almost as if her mind wasn't quite connecting with her body. Her body... He closed his eyes and inhaled, feeling the rumble start in his chest and then up to his throat as he leaned forward, nuzzling the crook of her neck, taking in the scent of desire, of want and need and something deeper -
Only to be replaced with fear.
His eyes shot open when she planted her hands on his chest and pushed him back. "NO," she answered with a heated whisper. "Please, Logan. NOT. NOW."
"If not now then when?" he answered, the feral tinge that accompanied it making his voice hoarse, and so damn angry.
"Never." Her little gloved hands had tangled in the flannel of his shirt, her eyes were wide and soft and bright and then they turned hard and angry when his heart lurched at the one word.
"What the hell do you mean?"
"That night doesn't exist. Not now, not ever." She swallowed and suddenly the softness was back, and she was the little girl again, as the palms slid up to his cheek and the soft leather gently caressed the whiskers. "Logan please. This can't change. So many things fucking change but YOU... you never change and I love you that way. I NEED you that way. Please... you're the only thing I can count on and if-"
The voice broke and his heart melted and suddenly the anger was gone, as his arms slipped about her, and he held her close, feeling her heart thumping against him as she whimpered, wrapping her arms around him, burying her face in his neck and just holding on for dear life. Fuck. This was how she wanted him. This was how she needed him.
He closed his eyes and pressed his cheek against the silky curtain of her hair, as her body trembled and her strength made him catch his breath and again appreciate the metal in his ribs.
"It's all right, Rogue," he whispered, feeling the warmth in his arms, every tremble and shudder wracked against his body. "It's okay. You got me that way."
Her voice was wracked with sobs and muffled as she whimpered, "I'm sorry-"
"Hey- don't. It's okay." His fingers gently pulled the bangs from his face, always carefully avoiding any skin as he looked into her face, watching as the tear-streaked face looked at him imploringly. Shit. He was the only one who saw her this way... he was the only one that she came to... the only one she trusted enough to- And he almost threw it away for sex.
FUCK. He was a bastard.
"I was scared," he finally managed, voice gruff with emotion. "I was scared that I almost lost my best friend and I over reacted. I'm sorry."
Her eyes closed and he watched as the tear trickled over her chin. Carefully he used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe it off.
"It's okay, Marie," he said, forcing a smile as he gave her another embrace, letting her forehead fall against his shoulder, keeping her close. "Nothing's gonna change now."
The words were muffled, but he heard them. They damn near broke his heart.
"You promise."
A grim smile floated on his face and the Wolverine bit back the retort that it had already changed... it had changed a long time ago. "Yeah. Yeah I promise."
~*~
"This thing with Magneto. Wesley and Storm have been all over it and they can't find anything. We don't know what he wants or what he's doing."
Angel leaned forward, watching as Charles tapped his fingers absently against the desktop.
"It's not the what. It's the how, the why... and the where and when. Magneto is not exactly vocal about his plans. He's amazingly narrow-minded when it comes to them. He plans to use the same plan that almost killed Rogue and myself before..." Angel could hear the hitch in the voice, would not have caught it had he not had the sensitive hearing that he had been blessed... or cursed... with, as a vampire.
It was as if Charles was sad.
"I know what he plans to do. Erik is very motivated when it comes to his plans. He sees them through. For a long time his dedication inspired me."
Angel paused, looking up. "You know him."
Charles would only allow a slight shrug. "We were great friends once. He gave me the idea for the school we are in now."
Angel furrowed his eyebrows, leaning forward. "You know what he's capable of?"
"Magneto is a complicated fellow," Xavier said after a beat. "When I met him... there was a fervor inside of him... I thought I understood him completely." There was a grim smile. "Little did I know that even if you can read a person's thoughts you never know their soul. Perhaps if I had gotten to him earlier... been able to reach him."
Angel cocked an eyebrow, swallowing as a flicker of grief passed over the old man's face.
"Erik and I spent quite a bit of time together," he began finally, a small smile on his face as he shrugged slightly. "Eventually our lives took us in different directions. I was never prepared to understand how different, until the incident with Rogue and Logan."
Angel swallowed, eyes flashing of Darla, Drusilla, Spike, Penn, before resting back on Charles. "You feel responsible."
Charles smiled slightly and shook his head. "In the end we are all responsible for our paths, Angel. It is our choice, after all. Sometimes the lines get blurred and the choices are difficult... that is where the pain lies."
Angel knew the answer only too well.
"Nothing matters but what we do."
Charles nodded and smiled. "Yes."
~*~
Caritas was, by far, one of the weirdest damn places he had ever been in, and shit, he had been through some crazy ass stuff.
Gunn sighed, pausing in the doorway as he led Fred in, keeping his grip on her hand firm as they weaved through the crowd, watching as the demons, humans, and something in the corner that he so didn't want to identify as they made their way to the green skinned Pylean who was bobbing his head to the beat of a song as a particularly ugly pasty faced thing warbled to the tune of "Careless Whispers."
Gunn kept his hand clamped on Fred's shoulder, despite her glare and the knowledge that she was going to get him for it later. Hell, he knew he pulled the white knight on her a little too much, but someone had to. No matter what Fred said, she was fragile, and he had seen enough of fragile souls getting their hearts beaten and battered to let it happen to her.
Lorne, also known as the Host, acknowledged his friend with a drink tipped in their direction and a smile that was half pain and half duty.
"Sometimes this gig is bordering on painful," he said, eyes locked on the demon singing his heart out. "Give me a minute to sort this guy out and I'll get to you. Life hasn't exactly been a dream for you, has it?"
Gunn just took a breath and then reached for Fred's hand again, weaving her toward the ball, where he made sure she was firmly settled before leaning beside her.
She was quiet, and that was odd. Fred liked to talk, mostly because she hated silence, because silence equated being alone and being alone equated with Pylea.
Girl had issues, that he had to admit.
But damn if she hadn't dealt with them better than anyone he had seen.
Her slender hands were still gripped in his palm, and when she squeezed, he found his focus directed at her yet again.
"Hey. You okay?"
"No," she answered, eyes flitting closed and opening a moist brown. "What if she's not alright, Gunn? What if Cordelia comes back and she's not all right?"
"Hey." Crap. She was scared. She was really scared. He hated Fred scared. The lump in his throat got bigger and gently he leaned forward, taking the glasses from her eyes so he could look at her, make her focus on him completely. "It's gonna be all right. It's always all right, isn't it?"
"I couldn't lose any of you, Gunn," she admitted finally, breathing out, keeping her gaze locked on him. "Not Wesley, not Cordelia, not Angel... not you."
Amazing what dangerous situations did... bringing people closer and all that. It had taken Angel dumping them on their ass those years back for Gunn to really appreciate Cor and Wes, and it took Cordelia on her deathbed for him to appreciate Fred.
"Hey. Check this out, Fred," he said, sliding his arm around her and gently fitting her into his side. "You're not gonna lose any of us. We're here for you. We need you too."
There it was again, that muffled half giggle that Cordelia had a hard time standing and that he just thought was cute.
"I highly doubt that possibility."
"Oh, he's right, sugar lips," came in a cheery voice from behind them. Gunn looked up to find Lorne smiling a half grin from over the top of his drink. "If you guys are gonna defeat the big bad, you're going to need all the help you can get. Oh, and please don't misunderstand," Lorne added, reaching over to pluck a peanut from the bowl behind them. "I know you've dealt with end of the world shindigs before but this really takes the cake."
Gunn's brow furrowed and he sucked in his breath when Lorne finally ended with, "When those bad mutants and demons get together - this world is in for a killing."
~*~
He had no idea why the Storm Goddess had made it her personal goal to befriend him, but Wesley Wyndham Price was not complaining. Storm, or rather, Ororo as they also called her, was someone he had found he liked very much. Her perception was rather disconcerting, but the softness of her nature was refreshing. Life was full of abrasive characters, and those who chose to approach it with a subtle shift were those to be admired.
Now, she sat beside him on the great stone wall that surrounded the school, quiet, not speaking, just being, and Wesley was thankful for that.
His mind was full of many things, and the waiting was the hardest part. Waiting for them to come out and tell them that Cordelia was all right... that she had survived the mutation intact... that she was still... Cordelia.
"You're scared." He blinked, surprised, before turning and regarding her, shrugging as he adjusted his glasses, clearing his throat.
"I am, yes."
"Me too."
"Oh?"
She took a breath, looking over the night sky, eyes focusing on some unseen constellation as she replied, "I do not like not knowing."
"Something we both have in common."
She seemed distracted, giving him a flitting smile before looking back up at the stars. "How did you come to know Angel?"
"I was assigned to ... mutual friends," he finally said. "I was fired from a job and was looking for a place to belong to. Angel and Cordelia gave me that friendship, that acceptance."
A long rush of air fled from her body, and she nodded, her smile indicating she understood. "I can appreciate that. Acceptance is something we strive for."
"You mean as mutants."
"I mean as people, but mutants especially, yes."
He nodded, eyes flicking toward the stairs of the large mansion she inhabited before wondering out loud, "And your red-eyed Cajun, shouldn't he be looking for you by now?"
She froze ever so slightly, he could feel her shift a bit closer and there was a beautiful, lilting laugh that came from her as her shoulders shook in slight mirth.
"He has gotten rather protective lately, hasn't he?"
"I believe he thinks he has every right."
She smiled, nodding slightly before turning, looking into his eyes. "He may think he does, but he does not. Not yet."
There was a curious thump in Wesley's heart as he swallowed suddenly, leaning forward. "Exactly why does he not?"
"Perhaps because he spent so long making up his mind about me that I got tired of waiting. A women does not like to wait for love."
"I wouldn't say that," Wesley countered. "Cordelia seems content enough with it."
"You mean her and Angel?"
"Their friendship, yes."
"Is that what they are?" There was genuine curiosity in the voice as she tipped her head at him, eyes focused on his face, waiting for his answer.
"As friendly as Logan and Rogue are."
She chuckled. "You noticed that."
"I notice a lot of things," He answered with a smile, thankful for the joking tone. "A watcher sees all."
"A Watcher?" she raised an eyebrow. "You're a seer too then?"
"Oh, no." Wesley shook his head. "A Watcher. Well... a former watcher... actually."
"What's the difference between a watcher and a seer?"
Crap. He shouldn't have brought it up. How on earth did one explain the phenomenon and paranoia and the supernatural demons that came with Slayers and Watchers and what they did without completely throwing someone off? Storm was relatively open minded but they had been liberal enough.
Unfortunately one look into those dark eyes and he didn't seem to mind trying to put those thoughts into words. This was dangerous. Very dangerous.
No good falling for a woman who belonged to another man, even if she seemed not to notice or believe it.
"A seer gets visions and the watcher..."
"Watches while I writhe in pain," a voice supplied helpfully. Wesley gasped, turning and almost stumbling off the wall had it not been for Storm's strong hold.
"Good Lord, Cordelia!"
Standing directly behind him, legs encased in black leather pants, black boots, and dressed in a black tight top that had an 'X' emblazoned on the shoulder, was Cordelia Chase.
All references to characters belonging to the X-Men Universe are (c) and TM the Marvel Comics Group, 20th Century Fox and all related entities. All rights reserved. Any reproduction, duplication or distribution of these materials in any form is expressly prohibited. No money is being made from this archive. All images are also (c) and TM the Marvel Comics Group, 20th Century Fox and all related entities; they are not mine. This website, its operators and any content used on this site relating to the X-Men are not authorized by Marvel, Fox, etc. I am not, nor do I claim to be affiliated with any of these entities in any way.