Fic - "Hestia" (4/7)
Title: Hestia (4/7)
Summary: Azazel and Riptide retire from the Brotherhood, with Magneto’s blessing. This multi-chaptered story chronicles their life together on their houseboat over a period of ten years. We will see a wedding, a birth, the relationship getting into trouble and getting out of it, and more. Angel, Mystique, Magneto and others will make appearances.
Word count: All together, the word count for the seven chapters comes to 16,000. Each chapter is around 3,000 words.
Rating: R
Pairing: Azazel/Riptide
Disclaimer: I don’t own X-men, or Azazel or Riptide, unfortunately.
Previous Chapters:
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Hestia - Chapter Four
1968
***
Once again, Mystique and Angel were being teleported to Azazel and Riptide’s for a party. It had been three years since the wedding, and much had happened during that time. Mystique shuddered a bit when she thought of how much she - how much everything - had changed. She remembered feeling unease that night three years ago, discomfort at the thought of two men marrying. Today her unease was due to a variety of less tangible but more pressing reasons.
This time, the festive occasion was not a wedding but rather a housewarming. Azazel and Riptide had traded in Sparta and purchased a larger vessel. In keeping with the theme of ancient Greece, they named it Hestia, liking the connotations to home and family. With the 14-month old Marina to take care of, they needed more room. Hestia was twice as big as the previous boat, with larger rooms including a total of three bedrooms now. The baby’s toys filled one room already.
It was not only Azazel and Riptide’s home that had changed however. Unlike at the wedding, Mystique and Angel were the only guests. Magneto sent his regrets, saying that he was too busy. In fact, Mystique and Angel were lucky he let them get away for a few hours. The X-men were powerful and Magneto’s numbers had declined. Emma had left the Brotherhood sometime last year; rumor had it that she was going to form her own group, one more similar to the old Hellfire Club. Azazel and Riptide had not been contacted by Emma or asked to join the new group.
Azazel and Riptide had experienced angst over whether or not to invite Angel to their housewarming. She had been back only once during the past fourteen months to see her baby. Angel had glanced at the girl, declined to hold her, asked to sit down and said she felt sea-sick. She had been onboard the ship for less than ten minutes before asking to be teleported back. Angel’s eyes had been cloudy, her movements slow, and she had made little if any effort to converse.
And such it was today during the somber housewarming party. The day of the housewarming opened with an unseasonable shower, and the sun never appeared. Azazel teleported Hestia and its contents to a warmer locale before the party began.
Angel was nursing a new injury. Riptide looked at the way she limped and recalled the many injuries which had led to his and Azazel’s retirement. They still had scars; they still took medicine for various aches and pains.
Mystique was different too. This past year with the Brotherhood had been difficult. One frustrating defeat after another, one injury after another. The X-men countered any gains the Brotherhood made, and Magneto grew only angrier and more despondent with each passing year.
The trials of the Brotherhood, however, were not foremost on Riptide’s mind. “She just learned how to do this in the past few days!” Riptide exclaimed, watching Marina. The baby could hold and drink from her cup without assistance from either her Daddy or Papa. ”She is ahead of where the books say that most children are at.”
“Of course,” Mystique shrugged. “She’s a mutant.”
“Let me get the pictures from when she took her first steps,” Riptide said, standing up and reaching for another photo album. “You have to see them.”
Azazel observed the looks on their guest’s faces, which were less than excited at the prospect of viewing more baby pictures. He stood up as well and asked, “Can I get you ladies more to drink?”
Both women brightened at that offer and accepted it. Azazel headed for the kitchen to procure more drinks. Although he wasn’t surprised that Mystique and Angel were not fawning over Marina, he had expected a bit more interest on their parts, especially Angel’s. He had expected Angel to ask how Marina referred to her parents (Azazel was Papa, Riptide Daddy), what she liked to eat (she happily accepted whatever they gave her including vegetables), how they managed to “child-proof” the entire boat (it wasn’t easy), how she was sleeping (better than before but still not for as long at a time as they wanted), and what they planned to do regarding school and having her socialize with other children (Azazel and Riptide had utterly no idea here). But Angel didn’t ask anything about Marina and only sat there gazing at the toddler as she propelled herself rapidly about Hestia.
“Let me help you with the drinks,” Mystique offered. She followed Azazel into the kitchen.
Azazel and Mystique were now alone in the kitchen. Hestia’s larger dimensions and thicker walls meant that they would not be overheard, especially not above Marina’s chatter.
Mystique did not waste time. Her years with Magneto left her bitter and impatient. She placed her hand over Azazel’s when he reached for the tequila.
“Will I be able to spend the night?” she asked quietly. She did not use the mellow, sweet voice that she had in the past. Her straightforward words sounded more like she was ordering lunch at a restaurant. “With you? I don’t have much time but maybe you and I could get alone for an hour or two.”
Azazel looked at Mystique. He had always found her beautiful. Men, he thought, were more achingly attractive and more boldly sexual - but women had their charms and their beauty too. Decades ago, young Azazel had been so accustomed to lack of intimacy and lack of sex, despite his intense yearnings, that he had cultivated the willingness to bed whoever would have him. Mystique’s intense red hair and deep blue skin were as alluring as ever, and she had not aged at all over the years. `Unlike me,’ he said to himself.
He took a step back as he answered. “I would like to, Mystique, but I truly cannot. You are beautiful as you always are, but it is the same as last time you asked. Janos and I no longer…no longer do this with anyone other than each other.”
Mystique did not hide her disappointment. None of the men currently in the Brotherhood interested her. If she wanted sex, she could and did shapeshift into whatever form she needed and find a willing partner at a bar or dance club. But she found sex more enjoyable and climax much easier with someone who knew her body and knew how she liked it. Azazel had always been such a considerate lover.
“I was hoping maybe you two had gone back to how it was before,” she frowned. Then she spread her hands and added, “But hey, I won’t try to break up you love birds!” she forced a smile, trying to show a measure of graciousness in accepting the polite rebuff.
Azazel could not resist mirroring her smile. “It is good to know that one is wanted. And as I said, you are very beautiful still.” He glanced in the direction of the deck on which Riptide and the others sat. “Sometimes we all take things for granted.” He tilted his head. “Come now. Let’s bring out the drinks.”
1969
Angel was demolishing her tiny room inside the Brotherhood’s current hideout. As her screams echoed down the hallway, Angel knocked over chairs, tore a pillowcase to shreds, and banged against the window with her fists.
“Mystique, make her stop!” one of the other members grumbled angrily. “She’s your friend.”
“I’m not going in there,” Mystique answered, crossing her arms over her chest. “She’ll cool down eventually.”
Although Mystique had no idea when that would be. She had never seen Angel quite like this.
Angel’s fury was due to the fact that Azazel and Riptide had refused to give Marina back.
Angel had decided that she was finished with fighting. Seven years in the Brotherhood had led to nothing but injuries, sleep deprivation, crushing disappointments, and working on a team whose members got only more uncouth each year - and Angel had coped with plenty of unpleasant characters in her lifetime. She wasn’t getting any younger either. It was time to go, time to reclaim her daughter and start a new life.
Angel had no idea how she would support herself; Magneto’s accounts had only covered room and board for his fighters. Angel was now too old to resume her former profession - men’s tastes each year seemed to gravitate towards younger and younger girls, and besides Angel had too many scars and lingering injuries now. But she vowed to find a way, thinking that perhaps Azazel’s ability to easily teleport in and out of bank vaults - he had a list of ones he frequented -- would keep a roof over her and Marina’s heads until Angel could figure out how she would support them.
She had had two interactions with Azazel and Riptide, trying to get Marina back. It was very clear that her daughter would not be returned to her.
Their first discussion had been almost civil. Angel had tracked down Hestia and been welcomed aboard as always. Over coffee, she had sat with Azazel and Riptide and calmly explained her reasons for wanting to leave the Brotherhood. She had reminded them that their agreement was that Azazel and Riptide would watch over her only temporarily.
Azazel and Riptide had kept their expressions neutral, exchanged a look, and then Riptide spoke. “Angel,” he began softly. “I’m afraid that’s not possible. Marina has been raised by us for her entire two and a half years. She knows no other parent. She doesn’t recognize you. We are keeping her here with us.”
“But that’s not what we agreed to,” Angel protested. She tried to keep her voice level but it squeaked upwards. “I made sure that Mystique told you that I was going to come and take her back as soon as either the Brotherhood took over - or I left it.”
“We made no such agreement,” Azazel said coldly. His eyes looked directly into hers.
Angel fought to hold onto her emotions, outraged that Azazel would lie to her face. Maybe she had been a fool to think that it would have been easy. Maybe Azazel and Riptide had been fools to agree to this in the first place; they had to have known that they would become attached to Marina.
The three had talked in circles for an hour, though they had kept their voices civil because of Marina’s presence. Marina had woken from her nap during their discussion and, without missing a beat, Azazel had escorted her to the bathroom and returned to their table to feed her a snack. Angel continued to insist that the men honor their agreement and the men had continued to insist that Marina was better off with them and that they had made no agreement with Angel.
Angel left frustrated, and had returned the next day. Her anger had simmered over a sleepless night, and Azazel and Riptide looked weary as soon as her boat had approached.
“I want my baby back!” Angel exclaimed, the moment she stepped on board Hestia. “It is wrong to keep a baby from her mother.”
Azazel and Riptide were also apparently ready to abandon the niceties. “You want to say what is wrong?” Riptide asked. “To abandon your own baby is wrong. To try to take her back from the people who love her and raised her is wrong.” His voice was steady and almost robotic.
“She is my baby! I gave birth to her. She wouldn’t be here without me.” Angel’s face was red.
“She wouldn’t be here without Azazel, either; he is her father. Nor would she be here if we hadn’t fed her, changed her, played with her, and loved her for the past two and a half years. We will never give her up.”
Riptide’s voice again had been flat and strictly factual. Between his apparent calm and Azazel’s silence, something inside Angel snapped.
“How dare you?? This is outrageous!” Angel began to shriek.
“It is outrageous of you to even come here and try to take her back from us!” Riptide countered, this time the fire exploding into his voice as well. “How many times have you been to see her in the last two and a half years? No more than five times, by my count. And you never stay with her for any longer than a few minutes at a time. She has no idea who you are - but me and Azazel are everything to her. Everything! You cannot take her away from that!”
Angel started to protest but Riptide cut her off, speaking over her. “When you bring her here, she had no name!” he exclaimed. “You didn’t even drop her off yourself. She has had nothing but what we give her!”
“I’m still her mother! You weren’t the one in labor for those 30 hours, though maybe you wish you had been. You aren’t fit to raise her, you, you - maricon!” she spat out. And then she topped it off with the English equivalent. “Faggot!”
Riptide returned Angel’s insults. “Puta! Whore!” he yelled at her.
“Cocksucker!” she yelled back. “You take it up the ass!”
“At least I do not do it for pay!”
Marina had been happily amusing herself in her play room. Despite the well-insulated walls of Hestia, she could easily hear the commotion on the deck and, realizing that her Daddy was very upset, she began to cry.
Upon hearing her cries, Azazel stepped between Riptide and Angel. “We need to tend to our daughter,” he said calmly, eyes drilling into Angel. “Angel, leave us. You must realize that you will never have Marina back. You cannot take us to court; we are all criminals. You cannot fight us; you have more injuries now than we did, and we are much stronger than you.”
Angel opened her mouth to say more but Azazel gently placed his hand over it. Somehow this gesture was more shocking than if he’d struck her. His fingers felt cold against her warms lips. “Raising a child is much hard work. I do not think you would really like it,” he said simply and almost casually. “So please, leave us now.” He continued to look into her eyes and added, “Please leave on your own, rather than me having to teleport you away…somewhere.”
Azazel had been the calm one during the entire altercation, but his threat could not have been more clear. Angel thought about it for a moment or two, and then silently turned to head for her ship.
***
Over the next several days, Riptide and Azazel set about forgetting their encounters with Angel. Really, she had to realize that she de facto gave up her claim on the girl due to her lack of interest, lack of visits over the years. Angel’s current interest in Marina was, perhaps, a temporary surge due to the changes she was undergoing in her life, leaving the Brotherhood. When living on the outside Angel would soon realize that supporting one’s own self, let alone raising a two year old, were difficult enough.
The men were sitting on their deck at dusk, enjoying an after-dinner drink. Marina had long since been put to bed. Azazel looked over Riptide’s shoulder and noticed a disturbance in the distance.
“What is it?” Riptide asked, turning his head to follow Azazel’s gaze.
Magneto slowly approached, using his powers to manipulate magnetic fields, allowing him to float above the waters.
Riptide and Azazel exchanged confused looks. This couldn’t be regarding Marina, could it? Yet they could not remember any time that Magneto had visited them solo, without an invitation. They slowly rose from their table.
Magneto set himself down on the deck. “Good evening, gentlemen,” he said.
Once again, Riptide and Azazel looked at each other. “It has been many years, Magneto,” Azazel said, bowing his head slightly to acknowledge the man who had been their leader for a couple of years - as well as the officiator at their wedding.
The bow also bought Azazel a second or two to take in Magneto. Rifling through his memories, Azazel recalled having seen Magneto only once or twice during the past few years when Azazel had teleported one or both of the girls. Magneto’s appearance was striking in terms of how much it had changed. His hair was now entirely gray although he could not be older than early forties. The lines on his face and the stony look in his eyes belied the fact that his past few years had not been any easier than his pre-Xavier years.
“Good evening,” Riptide said. “Can we get you something to drink?”
“Yes, please. A cognac.”
Riptide brought Magneto his drink and the three men sat down at the table as soon as Azazel cleared the dinner dishes.
“It is good to see you,” Azazel said. “We know you must be very busy.”
“And you suspect that this is not purely a social call,” Magneto finished for him. “You are right on both counts. So I will get right to business.” Magneto took a breath. “I have no love lost for Angel. She was never more than a mediocre fighter and now she’s left the Brotherhood. The number of powerful mutants who are unwilling or unable to take up our cause has always been disappointing.”
Obviously Magneto’s comment was meant as a swipe at Azazel and Riptide among others, but Magneto continued on, not softening the comment. “But I believe she has a point. Marina is her baby, and Mystique tells me that you did originally agree to return her in a few years. When people give their word, they need to hold to it.”
As both Azazel and Riptide opened their mouths to protest, Magneto raised a palm. His voice could still command their obedience. “One moment. You two also have a point. You have been her sole support and her only parents for her whole life, and it is completely unreasonable of anyone to expect you two to hand her over and never see her again.” He paused. “Therefore, I would like to propose a compromise.”
“A compromise?” Riptide echoed.
Magneto spoke calmly and almost softly. “What if Angel were to be allowed something along the lines of what I believe are termed ‘visitation rights’? She could take Marina for a few days every month, for instance. You would primarily raise her but Angel could spend a few nights a month with her daughter. She did give birth to Marina, after all.” He took a sip of his drink and concluded, “I spoke with Angel and she said this would be agreeable to her.”
Both Azazel and Riptide were leaning toward in their seats and eager to speak. Azazel gave a brief nod to Riptide.
“I don’t think we can agree to that,” Riptide said. “It would be very disruptive to the girl. Angel has no job, no way to support herself. She doesn’t know anything about how to raise a child. And Marina has no idea who she is - do you know how scary that is to a child, to be left with someone she doesn’t know? Even if it is just for a few nights a month.”
“I agree with everything Janos said,” Azazel added, his fist clenched. “And I must add to that - we must think about Marina’s best interests. This should be about what is best for the child.”
“I understand what you are saying,” Magneto said, again his voice almost irritatingly low. “What if Angel were to find a good place to live and find employment? There are a few more items you should consider. For one, I have state-of-the-art tracking equipment - so you would not need to worry about Angel trying to steal Marina and run away with her. Also, Angel might soon grow weary of parenthood and give the girl up permanently - perhaps she just needs to try motherhood in order to realize that it’s not for her. Finally, my understanding is that many parents enjoy having some time to themselves without their children. You two might enjoy a few nights a month with just each other.”
Magneto observed Azazel and Riptide once again exchange a look. He surmised that each one could determine, with speed and accuracy, the thoughts of the other man, just from that look. Magneto had told himself many times over the years that he was finished with thinking about Charles, but every time he saw Azazel and Riptide, inevitably the thoughts about what could have been resurfaced inside his mind. He was here only because he believed that it was the right thing to do and that Angel should at least occasionally be permitted to see her child. Angel deserved at least this effort from Magneto given her years of service and despite that fact that she no longer was one of his people.
However, Magneto was quite eager to leave. He was so used to controlling his body language that no one would have guessed.
“I’m sorry, Magneto,” Riptide said. “Our position is that this is simply not in Marina’s best interests. We don’t even think it’s in Angel’s best interests. She chose to give her baby up to us, and that decision is final. I don’t remember whether or not we ever agreed to return Marina to her - the whole exchange with Mystique when we took the baby in was quite rushed and overwhelming. But my understanding was that as soon as that baby, who was nameless at the time, was placed into my arms that it was permanent.”
“And just one more thing that we must add,” Azazel said. “I am Marina’s father. Angel has no more say over her future than I do.”
Magneto silently downed his drink as Azazel and Riptide watched him. They wondered if he would take action - did he value Angel enough that he would try to strike against them? But no, Magneto appeared relaxed. Did Azazel’s last statement convince Magneto? All three men came from heavily patriarchal cultures in which the father’s word was king.
Magneto stood up as soon as his drink was finished. “I urge you to consider my words,” he said simply, “and to consider the compromise.”
“And if we do not?” Riptide asked, proud that his voice belied no fear. He and Azazel had been away from combat for a long time. Other than Azazel’s teleporting skills, their powers were largely unused. Unlike Magneto’s powers.
Magneto shrugged. “I felt I had an obligation to urge you to consider Angel’s point of view. I will not force the issue anymore. I wish you and your daughter well.”
“Visit us again sometime,” Azazel suggested as Magneto prepared his magnetic field.
Magneto did not reply, but silently said to himself, ‘Not likely.”
Angel made no further attempts to reclaim her daughter; Azazel and Riptide did not hear from her ever again.
TO BE CONTINUED
Continue on to Chapter Five
Feedback appreciated.
Summary: Azazel and Riptide retire from the Brotherhood, with Magneto’s blessing. This multi-chaptered story chronicles their life together on their houseboat over a period of ten years. We will see a wedding, a birth, the relationship getting into trouble and getting out of it, and more. Angel, Mystique, Magneto and others will make appearances.
Word count: All together, the word count for the seven chapters comes to 16,000. Each chapter is around 3,000 words.
Rating: R
Pairing: Azazel/Riptide
Disclaimer: I don’t own X-men, or Azazel or Riptide, unfortunately.
Previous Chapters:
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Hestia - Chapter Four
1968
***
Once again, Mystique and Angel were being teleported to Azazel and Riptide’s for a party. It had been three years since the wedding, and much had happened during that time. Mystique shuddered a bit when she thought of how much she - how much everything - had changed. She remembered feeling unease that night three years ago, discomfort at the thought of two men marrying. Today her unease was due to a variety of less tangible but more pressing reasons.
This time, the festive occasion was not a wedding but rather a housewarming. Azazel and Riptide had traded in Sparta and purchased a larger vessel. In keeping with the theme of ancient Greece, they named it Hestia, liking the connotations to home and family. With the 14-month old Marina to take care of, they needed more room. Hestia was twice as big as the previous boat, with larger rooms including a total of three bedrooms now. The baby’s toys filled one room already.
It was not only Azazel and Riptide’s home that had changed however. Unlike at the wedding, Mystique and Angel were the only guests. Magneto sent his regrets, saying that he was too busy. In fact, Mystique and Angel were lucky he let them get away for a few hours. The X-men were powerful and Magneto’s numbers had declined. Emma had left the Brotherhood sometime last year; rumor had it that she was going to form her own group, one more similar to the old Hellfire Club. Azazel and Riptide had not been contacted by Emma or asked to join the new group.
Azazel and Riptide had experienced angst over whether or not to invite Angel to their housewarming. She had been back only once during the past fourteen months to see her baby. Angel had glanced at the girl, declined to hold her, asked to sit down and said she felt sea-sick. She had been onboard the ship for less than ten minutes before asking to be teleported back. Angel’s eyes had been cloudy, her movements slow, and she had made little if any effort to converse.
And such it was today during the somber housewarming party. The day of the housewarming opened with an unseasonable shower, and the sun never appeared. Azazel teleported Hestia and its contents to a warmer locale before the party began.
Angel was nursing a new injury. Riptide looked at the way she limped and recalled the many injuries which had led to his and Azazel’s retirement. They still had scars; they still took medicine for various aches and pains.
Mystique was different too. This past year with the Brotherhood had been difficult. One frustrating defeat after another, one injury after another. The X-men countered any gains the Brotherhood made, and Magneto grew only angrier and more despondent with each passing year.
The trials of the Brotherhood, however, were not foremost on Riptide’s mind. “She just learned how to do this in the past few days!” Riptide exclaimed, watching Marina. The baby could hold and drink from her cup without assistance from either her Daddy or Papa. ”She is ahead of where the books say that most children are at.”
“Of course,” Mystique shrugged. “She’s a mutant.”
“Let me get the pictures from when she took her first steps,” Riptide said, standing up and reaching for another photo album. “You have to see them.”
Azazel observed the looks on their guest’s faces, which were less than excited at the prospect of viewing more baby pictures. He stood up as well and asked, “Can I get you ladies more to drink?”
Both women brightened at that offer and accepted it. Azazel headed for the kitchen to procure more drinks. Although he wasn’t surprised that Mystique and Angel were not fawning over Marina, he had expected a bit more interest on their parts, especially Angel’s. He had expected Angel to ask how Marina referred to her parents (Azazel was Papa, Riptide Daddy), what she liked to eat (she happily accepted whatever they gave her including vegetables), how they managed to “child-proof” the entire boat (it wasn’t easy), how she was sleeping (better than before but still not for as long at a time as they wanted), and what they planned to do regarding school and having her socialize with other children (Azazel and Riptide had utterly no idea here). But Angel didn’t ask anything about Marina and only sat there gazing at the toddler as she propelled herself rapidly about Hestia.
“Let me help you with the drinks,” Mystique offered. She followed Azazel into the kitchen.
Azazel and Mystique were now alone in the kitchen. Hestia’s larger dimensions and thicker walls meant that they would not be overheard, especially not above Marina’s chatter.
Mystique did not waste time. Her years with Magneto left her bitter and impatient. She placed her hand over Azazel’s when he reached for the tequila.
“Will I be able to spend the night?” she asked quietly. She did not use the mellow, sweet voice that she had in the past. Her straightforward words sounded more like she was ordering lunch at a restaurant. “With you? I don’t have much time but maybe you and I could get alone for an hour or two.”
Azazel looked at Mystique. He had always found her beautiful. Men, he thought, were more achingly attractive and more boldly sexual - but women had their charms and their beauty too. Decades ago, young Azazel had been so accustomed to lack of intimacy and lack of sex, despite his intense yearnings, that he had cultivated the willingness to bed whoever would have him. Mystique’s intense red hair and deep blue skin were as alluring as ever, and she had not aged at all over the years. `Unlike me,’ he said to himself.
He took a step back as he answered. “I would like to, Mystique, but I truly cannot. You are beautiful as you always are, but it is the same as last time you asked. Janos and I no longer…no longer do this with anyone other than each other.”
Mystique did not hide her disappointment. None of the men currently in the Brotherhood interested her. If she wanted sex, she could and did shapeshift into whatever form she needed and find a willing partner at a bar or dance club. But she found sex more enjoyable and climax much easier with someone who knew her body and knew how she liked it. Azazel had always been such a considerate lover.
“I was hoping maybe you two had gone back to how it was before,” she frowned. Then she spread her hands and added, “But hey, I won’t try to break up you love birds!” she forced a smile, trying to show a measure of graciousness in accepting the polite rebuff.
Azazel could not resist mirroring her smile. “It is good to know that one is wanted. And as I said, you are very beautiful still.” He glanced in the direction of the deck on which Riptide and the others sat. “Sometimes we all take things for granted.” He tilted his head. “Come now. Let’s bring out the drinks.”
1969
Angel was demolishing her tiny room inside the Brotherhood’s current hideout. As her screams echoed down the hallway, Angel knocked over chairs, tore a pillowcase to shreds, and banged against the window with her fists.
“Mystique, make her stop!” one of the other members grumbled angrily. “She’s your friend.”
“I’m not going in there,” Mystique answered, crossing her arms over her chest. “She’ll cool down eventually.”
Although Mystique had no idea when that would be. She had never seen Angel quite like this.
Angel’s fury was due to the fact that Azazel and Riptide had refused to give Marina back.
Angel had decided that she was finished with fighting. Seven years in the Brotherhood had led to nothing but injuries, sleep deprivation, crushing disappointments, and working on a team whose members got only more uncouth each year - and Angel had coped with plenty of unpleasant characters in her lifetime. She wasn’t getting any younger either. It was time to go, time to reclaim her daughter and start a new life.
Angel had no idea how she would support herself; Magneto’s accounts had only covered room and board for his fighters. Angel was now too old to resume her former profession - men’s tastes each year seemed to gravitate towards younger and younger girls, and besides Angel had too many scars and lingering injuries now. But she vowed to find a way, thinking that perhaps Azazel’s ability to easily teleport in and out of bank vaults - he had a list of ones he frequented -- would keep a roof over her and Marina’s heads until Angel could figure out how she would support them.
She had had two interactions with Azazel and Riptide, trying to get Marina back. It was very clear that her daughter would not be returned to her.
Their first discussion had been almost civil. Angel had tracked down Hestia and been welcomed aboard as always. Over coffee, she had sat with Azazel and Riptide and calmly explained her reasons for wanting to leave the Brotherhood. She had reminded them that their agreement was that Azazel and Riptide would watch over her only temporarily.
Azazel and Riptide had kept their expressions neutral, exchanged a look, and then Riptide spoke. “Angel,” he began softly. “I’m afraid that’s not possible. Marina has been raised by us for her entire two and a half years. She knows no other parent. She doesn’t recognize you. We are keeping her here with us.”
“But that’s not what we agreed to,” Angel protested. She tried to keep her voice level but it squeaked upwards. “I made sure that Mystique told you that I was going to come and take her back as soon as either the Brotherhood took over - or I left it.”
“We made no such agreement,” Azazel said coldly. His eyes looked directly into hers.
Angel fought to hold onto her emotions, outraged that Azazel would lie to her face. Maybe she had been a fool to think that it would have been easy. Maybe Azazel and Riptide had been fools to agree to this in the first place; they had to have known that they would become attached to Marina.
The three had talked in circles for an hour, though they had kept their voices civil because of Marina’s presence. Marina had woken from her nap during their discussion and, without missing a beat, Azazel had escorted her to the bathroom and returned to their table to feed her a snack. Angel continued to insist that the men honor their agreement and the men had continued to insist that Marina was better off with them and that they had made no agreement with Angel.
Angel left frustrated, and had returned the next day. Her anger had simmered over a sleepless night, and Azazel and Riptide looked weary as soon as her boat had approached.
“I want my baby back!” Angel exclaimed, the moment she stepped on board Hestia. “It is wrong to keep a baby from her mother.”
Azazel and Riptide were also apparently ready to abandon the niceties. “You want to say what is wrong?” Riptide asked. “To abandon your own baby is wrong. To try to take her back from the people who love her and raised her is wrong.” His voice was steady and almost robotic.
“She is my baby! I gave birth to her. She wouldn’t be here without me.” Angel’s face was red.
“She wouldn’t be here without Azazel, either; he is her father. Nor would she be here if we hadn’t fed her, changed her, played with her, and loved her for the past two and a half years. We will never give her up.”
Riptide’s voice again had been flat and strictly factual. Between his apparent calm and Azazel’s silence, something inside Angel snapped.
“How dare you?? This is outrageous!” Angel began to shriek.
“It is outrageous of you to even come here and try to take her back from us!” Riptide countered, this time the fire exploding into his voice as well. “How many times have you been to see her in the last two and a half years? No more than five times, by my count. And you never stay with her for any longer than a few minutes at a time. She has no idea who you are - but me and Azazel are everything to her. Everything! You cannot take her away from that!”
Angel started to protest but Riptide cut her off, speaking over her. “When you bring her here, she had no name!” he exclaimed. “You didn’t even drop her off yourself. She has had nothing but what we give her!”
“I’m still her mother! You weren’t the one in labor for those 30 hours, though maybe you wish you had been. You aren’t fit to raise her, you, you - maricon!” she spat out. And then she topped it off with the English equivalent. “Faggot!”
Riptide returned Angel’s insults. “Puta! Whore!” he yelled at her.
“Cocksucker!” she yelled back. “You take it up the ass!”
“At least I do not do it for pay!”
Marina had been happily amusing herself in her play room. Despite the well-insulated walls of Hestia, she could easily hear the commotion on the deck and, realizing that her Daddy was very upset, she began to cry.
Upon hearing her cries, Azazel stepped between Riptide and Angel. “We need to tend to our daughter,” he said calmly, eyes drilling into Angel. “Angel, leave us. You must realize that you will never have Marina back. You cannot take us to court; we are all criminals. You cannot fight us; you have more injuries now than we did, and we are much stronger than you.”
Angel opened her mouth to say more but Azazel gently placed his hand over it. Somehow this gesture was more shocking than if he’d struck her. His fingers felt cold against her warms lips. “Raising a child is much hard work. I do not think you would really like it,” he said simply and almost casually. “So please, leave us now.” He continued to look into her eyes and added, “Please leave on your own, rather than me having to teleport you away…somewhere.”
Azazel had been the calm one during the entire altercation, but his threat could not have been more clear. Angel thought about it for a moment or two, and then silently turned to head for her ship.
***
Over the next several days, Riptide and Azazel set about forgetting their encounters with Angel. Really, she had to realize that she de facto gave up her claim on the girl due to her lack of interest, lack of visits over the years. Angel’s current interest in Marina was, perhaps, a temporary surge due to the changes she was undergoing in her life, leaving the Brotherhood. When living on the outside Angel would soon realize that supporting one’s own self, let alone raising a two year old, were difficult enough.
The men were sitting on their deck at dusk, enjoying an after-dinner drink. Marina had long since been put to bed. Azazel looked over Riptide’s shoulder and noticed a disturbance in the distance.
“What is it?” Riptide asked, turning his head to follow Azazel’s gaze.
Magneto slowly approached, using his powers to manipulate magnetic fields, allowing him to float above the waters.
Riptide and Azazel exchanged confused looks. This couldn’t be regarding Marina, could it? Yet they could not remember any time that Magneto had visited them solo, without an invitation. They slowly rose from their table.
Magneto set himself down on the deck. “Good evening, gentlemen,” he said.
Once again, Riptide and Azazel looked at each other. “It has been many years, Magneto,” Azazel said, bowing his head slightly to acknowledge the man who had been their leader for a couple of years - as well as the officiator at their wedding.
The bow also bought Azazel a second or two to take in Magneto. Rifling through his memories, Azazel recalled having seen Magneto only once or twice during the past few years when Azazel had teleported one or both of the girls. Magneto’s appearance was striking in terms of how much it had changed. His hair was now entirely gray although he could not be older than early forties. The lines on his face and the stony look in his eyes belied the fact that his past few years had not been any easier than his pre-Xavier years.
“Good evening,” Riptide said. “Can we get you something to drink?”
“Yes, please. A cognac.”
Riptide brought Magneto his drink and the three men sat down at the table as soon as Azazel cleared the dinner dishes.
“It is good to see you,” Azazel said. “We know you must be very busy.”
“And you suspect that this is not purely a social call,” Magneto finished for him. “You are right on both counts. So I will get right to business.” Magneto took a breath. “I have no love lost for Angel. She was never more than a mediocre fighter and now she’s left the Brotherhood. The number of powerful mutants who are unwilling or unable to take up our cause has always been disappointing.”
Obviously Magneto’s comment was meant as a swipe at Azazel and Riptide among others, but Magneto continued on, not softening the comment. “But I believe she has a point. Marina is her baby, and Mystique tells me that you did originally agree to return her in a few years. When people give their word, they need to hold to it.”
As both Azazel and Riptide opened their mouths to protest, Magneto raised a palm. His voice could still command their obedience. “One moment. You two also have a point. You have been her sole support and her only parents for her whole life, and it is completely unreasonable of anyone to expect you two to hand her over and never see her again.” He paused. “Therefore, I would like to propose a compromise.”
“A compromise?” Riptide echoed.
Magneto spoke calmly and almost softly. “What if Angel were to be allowed something along the lines of what I believe are termed ‘visitation rights’? She could take Marina for a few days every month, for instance. You would primarily raise her but Angel could spend a few nights a month with her daughter. She did give birth to Marina, after all.” He took a sip of his drink and concluded, “I spoke with Angel and she said this would be agreeable to her.”
Both Azazel and Riptide were leaning toward in their seats and eager to speak. Azazel gave a brief nod to Riptide.
“I don’t think we can agree to that,” Riptide said. “It would be very disruptive to the girl. Angel has no job, no way to support herself. She doesn’t know anything about how to raise a child. And Marina has no idea who she is - do you know how scary that is to a child, to be left with someone she doesn’t know? Even if it is just for a few nights a month.”
“I agree with everything Janos said,” Azazel added, his fist clenched. “And I must add to that - we must think about Marina’s best interests. This should be about what is best for the child.”
“I understand what you are saying,” Magneto said, again his voice almost irritatingly low. “What if Angel were to find a good place to live and find employment? There are a few more items you should consider. For one, I have state-of-the-art tracking equipment - so you would not need to worry about Angel trying to steal Marina and run away with her. Also, Angel might soon grow weary of parenthood and give the girl up permanently - perhaps she just needs to try motherhood in order to realize that it’s not for her. Finally, my understanding is that many parents enjoy having some time to themselves without their children. You two might enjoy a few nights a month with just each other.”
Magneto observed Azazel and Riptide once again exchange a look. He surmised that each one could determine, with speed and accuracy, the thoughts of the other man, just from that look. Magneto had told himself many times over the years that he was finished with thinking about Charles, but every time he saw Azazel and Riptide, inevitably the thoughts about what could have been resurfaced inside his mind. He was here only because he believed that it was the right thing to do and that Angel should at least occasionally be permitted to see her child. Angel deserved at least this effort from Magneto given her years of service and despite that fact that she no longer was one of his people.
However, Magneto was quite eager to leave. He was so used to controlling his body language that no one would have guessed.
“I’m sorry, Magneto,” Riptide said. “Our position is that this is simply not in Marina’s best interests. We don’t even think it’s in Angel’s best interests. She chose to give her baby up to us, and that decision is final. I don’t remember whether or not we ever agreed to return Marina to her - the whole exchange with Mystique when we took the baby in was quite rushed and overwhelming. But my understanding was that as soon as that baby, who was nameless at the time, was placed into my arms that it was permanent.”
“And just one more thing that we must add,” Azazel said. “I am Marina’s father. Angel has no more say over her future than I do.”
Magneto silently downed his drink as Azazel and Riptide watched him. They wondered if he would take action - did he value Angel enough that he would try to strike against them? But no, Magneto appeared relaxed. Did Azazel’s last statement convince Magneto? All three men came from heavily patriarchal cultures in which the father’s word was king.
Magneto stood up as soon as his drink was finished. “I urge you to consider my words,” he said simply, “and to consider the compromise.”
“And if we do not?” Riptide asked, proud that his voice belied no fear. He and Azazel had been away from combat for a long time. Other than Azazel’s teleporting skills, their powers were largely unused. Unlike Magneto’s powers.
Magneto shrugged. “I felt I had an obligation to urge you to consider Angel’s point of view. I will not force the issue anymore. I wish you and your daughter well.”
“Visit us again sometime,” Azazel suggested as Magneto prepared his magnetic field.
Magneto did not reply, but silently said to himself, ‘Not likely.”
Angel made no further attempts to reclaim her daughter; Azazel and Riptide did not hear from her ever again.
TO BE CONTINUED
Continue on to Chapter Five
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