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When Sabretooth noticed that Moxie kept sneaking out of the Brotherhood Base after curfew every night, he interrogated her closest friends in the Brotherhood- Avalanche and Pyro.

"Okay, so, don't be mad," Avalanche began cautiously. "It's gonna sound kind of bad, but if you really look at it, she's almost an adult, and it's probably safe, so just-"

"Out with it," Sabretooth barked, his patience wearing thin.

Avalanche cringed, closing his eyes tight as though unable to look at Sabretooth when he spilled the beans. "It's at this…uh, club. Nearby."

"What kind of club?" Sabretooth's voice was dangerously calm.

Avalanche squirmed under the weight of the older mutant's stare. "It's…it's like a dance club," he began, his voice tentative.

"A dance club," Sabretooth repeated, his tone deceptively mild.

"Oh for fuck's sake," Pyro muttered, shooting Avalanche an irritated glance. "It's a strip club, okay?"

The tension in the room skyrocketed as Sabretooth's eyes bulged and his fur bristled. "You're telling me she's working at a fucking strip club?!"

"Okay, well," Avalanche said, trying futilely to spin the conversation away from disaster. "When you put it like that, it sounds kinda bad, but-"

"Kinda bad?" Sabretooth's voice was a low rumble, the calmness gone. "Do you have any idea what kind of place that is for a young mutant girl like Moxie?"

"It's really not that bad!" Avalanche protested, his voice a squeak. "She's almost eighteen, and… And it's just a little club…"

Sabretooth's fists clenched, his claws extending slightly, the sound of metal scraping against metal echoing through the room. "My underaged pup is dancing with her tits out for human perverts, and you think it's 'not that bad'?" he roared.

"Look, she's okay," Avalanche tried again, his voice shaking. "She just… She likes it, okay? She said it's fun."

Sabretooth's expression was a storm of rage, but his voice remained eerily calm. "What's the club called?" he demanded, his eyes boring into the two trembling teens.

"The Purring Panther," Pyro squeaked out, his eyes wide with terror. "But it's totally cool, man. They treat her like a queen there. It's just a job."

Without another word to the boys, Sabretooth turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, leaving Pyro and Avalanche to exchange worried glances. They knew better than to get in his way when he was like this… But if things were brewing for a confrontation between Sabretooth and Moxie, the results were sure to be messy.

Sabretooth stopped by his room only long enough to grab his coat and keys, and to Google the address for the Purring Panther. His heart hammered in his chest like a drumline as he thought about Moxie up there, doing… what they had said she was doing. It didn't matter how much she liked it or how much she felt in control, he knew the type of men that frequented those kinds of places, and none of them had the right to see his pup like that.

As he stepped outside the base, the cool night air hit him like a slap in the face, a stark contrast to the hot fury burning inside. He climbed into his beat-up old car, the engine roaring to life as he peeled out onto the street. The drive was a blur of neon lights and dark alleys, his mind racing with thoughts of what he might find at the club.

When he finally arrived at the Purring Panther, the neon sign flickered in the dark like a beacon of sleaze. He could feel the thump of bass from the music inside vibrating through the walls, and he felt sick. Moxie, his little Moxie, in there… He took a moment to compose himself, straightening his coat and smoothing his fur, before striding towards the door.

The bouncer at the door looked at him with a mix of confusion and amusement at his furry form, but the flash of his eyes and the set of his jaw made it clear that this wasn't a man to be trifled with. He nodded, allowing Sabretooth to pass without a word.

Sabretooth searches the club for Moxie. He finally finds her performing for a large group of men. The men watch, entranced, as she dances and strips down to nothing for them, looking lovely and delicate. Sabretooth feels furious with her for her bad choices. He feels both possessive and protective over the girl he was assigned to protect. The same girl he'd grown to care for over the years he'd spent with her.

"Is anyone interested in a private dance?" Moxie asked, her wide gold eyes so sweet and alluring.

The men all clamored for her attention, throwing more money onto the stage like it was confetti. But Sabretooth, at well over seven feet tall, came front and center. "Me," he growled, his voice cutting through the din of the club.

Moxie froze at the sight of him, her expression frozen in shock, then panic. In a second, she'd gone from a graceful, confident figure to the teenage girl she really was. A girl who knew she was in big trouble.

Sabretooth is frustrated and furious when Moxie, the teenager that Magneto assigned him to mentor and guard, is revealed to be working at a strip club. Moxie Tanaka is the youngest member of the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants. She's a mutant with the power to transfer into a red fox at will.

Sabretooth interrogates Avalanche and Pyro, members of the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants. Sabretooth had found Moxie's bedroom empty past midnight, and is determined to find out where she went.

Pyro shuffled his feet, glancing at Avalanche before responding, "I mean, I guess she might've gone to the-"

Avalanche cut him off, clapping a hand over Pyro's mouth. "Shut up!" he hissed warningly. "Moxie would kick your ass so hard if you told..."

Sabretooth's eyes narrowed, and his tail swished ominously. "Funny. Because if you don't tell, you have me to worry about."

The boys looked at him, clearly determining who was scarier, Sabretooth or Moxie.

Sabretooth won.

"She... She got a job, okay?" Pyro mumbled. "It's not a big deal or anything..." His blush, and the way he avoided Sabretooth's eyes, suggested otherwise.

Sabretooth's expression darkened. "A job? What kind of job?"

The boys exchanged another look.

"Okay, so, don't be mad," Avalanche began cautiously. "It's gonna sound kind of bad, but if you really look at it, she's almost an adult, and it's probably safe, so just-"

"Out with it," Sabretooth barked, his patience wearing thin.

Avalanche cringed, closing his eyes tight as though unable to look at Sabretooth when he spilled the beans. "It's at this...uh, club. Nearby."

"What kind of club?" Sabretooth's voice was dangerously calm.

Avalanche squirmed under the weight of the older mutant's stare. "It's...it's like a dance club," he began, his voice tentative.

"A dance club," Sabretooth repeated, his tone deceptively mild.

"Oh for fuck's sake," Pyro muttered, shooting Avalanche an irritated glance. "It's a strip club, okay?"

The tension in the room skyrocketed as Sabretooth's eyes bulged and his fur bristled. "You're telling me she's working at a fucking strip club?!"

"Okay, well," Avalanche said, trying futilely to spin the conversation away from disaster. "When you put it like that, it sounds kinda bad, but-"

"Kinda bad?" Sabretooth's voice was a low rumble, the calmness gone. "Do you have any idea what kind of place that is for a young mutant girl like Moxie?"

"It's really not that bad!" Avalanche protested, his voice a squeak. "She's almost eighteen, and... And it's just a little club..."

Sabretooth's fists clenched, his claws extending slightly, the sound of metal scraping against metal echoing through the room. "My ward is dancing with her tits out for some old fucking perverts, and you think it's 'not that bad'?" he roared.

"Look, she's okay," Avalanche tried again, his voice shaking. "She just... She likes it, okay? She said it's fun."

Sabretooth's expression was a storm of rage, but his voice remained eerily calm. "What's the club called?" he demanded, his eyes boring into the two trembling teens.

"The Purring Panther," Pyro squeaked out, his eyes wide with terror. "But it's totally cool, man. They treat her like a queen there. It's just a job."

Without another word to the boys, Sabretooth turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, leaving Pyro and Avalanche to exchange worried glances. They knew better than to get in his way when he was like this... But if things were brewing for a confrontation between Sabretooth and Moxie, the results were sure to be messy.

Sabretooth stopped by his room only long enough to grab his coat and keys, and to Google the address for the Purring Panther. His heart hammered in his chest like a drumline as he thought about Moxie up there, doing... what they had said she was doing. It didn't matter how much she liked it or how much she felt in control, he knew the type of men that frequented those kinds of places, and none of them had the right to see his girl like that.

As he stepped outside the base, the cool night air hit him like a slap in the face, a stark contrast to the hot fury burning inside. He climbed into his beat-up old car, the engine roaring to life as he peeled out onto the street. The drive was a blur of neon lights and dark alleys, his mind racing with thoughts of what he might find at the club.

When he finally arrived at the Purring Panther, the neon sign flickered in the dark like a beacon of sleaze. He could feel the thump of bass from the music inside vibrating through the walls, and he felt sick. Moxie, his little Moxie, in there... He took a moment to compose himself, straightening his coat and smoothing his fur, before striding towards the door.

The bouncer at the door looked at him with a mix of confusion and amusement at his furry form, but the flash of his eyes and the set of his jaw made it clear that this wasn't a man to be trifled with. He nodded, allowing Sabretooth to pass without a word.

Sabretooth searches the club for Moxie. He finally finds her performing for a large group of men. The men watch, entranced, as she dances and strips down to nothing for them, looking lovely and delicate. Sabretooth feels furious with her for her bad choices. He feels both possessive and protective over the girl he was assigned to protect. The same girl he'd grown fond of, over the months he'd spent training her.

"Is anyone interested in a private dance?" Moxie asked, her wide gold eyes so sweet and alluring.

The men all clamored for her attention, throwing more money onto the stage like it was confetti. But Sabretooth, at well over seven feet tall, came front and center. "Me," he growled, his voice cutting through the din of the club.

Moxie froze at the sight of him, her expression frozen in shock, then panic. In a second, she'd gone from a graceful, confident figure to the teenage girl she really was. A girl who knew she was in big trouble.

"Shit," she muttered, her eyes flicking nervously over the crowd. "Shit." She crossed her arms self-consciously over her naked chest, dropping off the stage and hurrying towards him, where she grabbed her mentor's arm. "What are you doing here?!" she hissed, trying to pull him away.

"What am I doing here?" he echoed incredulously. "Mox, what the fuck!"

She winced as his raised voice drew curious glances from the crowd. "Hush!" she shushed him, no doubt stressing over what such an encounter would do to her image as a seductive, dominating fantasy for these men. "You have to leave. You can't... Oh, my God." She seemed to realize just how naked she was before the eyes of Sabretooth, the man she so respected and admired. Her face burned.

Sabretooth's gold eyes flashed. "You're damn right I'm leaving," he snapped. "And you're coming with me."

"What! No!" Moxie growled, dragging him to a corner where they at least had the illusion of privacy. "I'm at work, Victor. You can't be here- go home!"

"The hell I can't," he countered, his voice low and dangerous. "You're a member of the Brotherhood, Moxie, not some cheap whore for some desperate, pathetic humans." Yanking off his outer shirt, he draped it over her nearly naked form. It was big enough on her small body that she was covered to the tops of her thighs.

Then, without further ado, he towed her towards the exit, ignoring her struggles and protests as he did so.

It wasn't until they were outside in the chill air, hidden in the semi privacy of an alley behind the club, that he rounded on the girl. "What the fuck were you doing?!"

Moxie crossed her arms and scowled, stubborn as always. "Dancing, obviously."

Victor growled, his patience wearing thin. "That's not what's happening, and you know it." He stepped closer, his fur bristling. "You're a soldier, a warrior, not a goddamn whore!" He slammed a fist against the wall, his eyes piercing hers.

Moxie jumped, her gold eyes widening, alarmed by his aggression and harsh words. "Victor..." She breathed. Her tail twitched anxiously.

"What, you think you're going to make a difference for our kind by flaunting your ass for the enemy?" He barked, his rage palpable.

She said nothing, only looked at him with those big, gold eyes, clearly nervous. But there was something else in there, too. Something that told him she wasn't just scared of his anger, she was hurt by his words.

Sabretooth took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside him. He knew he was being harsh, but he couldn't help it. "Look," he said, his voice softer, though no less firm. "You're better than this, Mox. You're a member of the Brotherhood, you're supposed to be fighting for our rights, not taking your clothes off for human perverts."

Moxie looked down, her cheeks flushing a darker shade of red. "I know," she murmured. "But it's just a job, Victor. It's not like I'm sleeping with anyone, or even letting anyone touch me. I'm just... dancing."

Oh? Victor felt his jaw tighten. "Fine," he said curtly. "Go ahead, then." He gripped the thong she wore. "Panties off. Show me your cunt."

Moxie froze, her eyes huge as she stumbled away from him. "What?!" She had to have misheard him. The man had been taking care of her since she was... What, six, seven years old? He was practically a father to her! "Victor, no..."

But he was unmoved. "If you're going to act like a whore, I'm going to treat you like one," he said, his voice cold. "You want to show your cunt to all these strangers, show it to me."

"I don't want to!" Moxie's voice trembled as she stumbled backward, her eyes wide with shock and fear. She tried to turn the tides- "Would you be fine with showing me your dick?!"

Sabretooth stopped in his tracks, his expression unreadable for a moment before a smug smile twisted his lips. "You wanna see it?"

"No!" Moxie's voice was a squeak as she took a hasty step back. She hadn't expected him to call her bluff. "That's not what I meant!"

Ignoring her frantic attempts to backpedal, Sabretooth unzipped his pants, his cock springing free.

Moxie hadn't actually wanted her mentor to expose himself, and felt deeply uncomfortable now that he had. "Victor, I don't want to see your dick!" she protested, looking anywhere but at him. "Put it away!"

But he didn't. Instead, he stepped closer, his eyes glinting in the dim light of the alley. "You're the one that brought it up, Mox," he said, his voice a low purr that sent chills down her spine. "But if it makes you feel better, I'm not asking for a show. I just want to make sure you're not lying to me." He reached out and tugged the string of her thong.

"Stop it!" Moxie shoved his hand off of herself. "And what do you mean, you're making sure I'm not lying? Lying about what?!"

Sabretooth leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low growl. "You expect me to believe that you're up there, all hot and bothered, and none of these animals are touching you? That's a lie, Moxie."

Moxie froze, disgusted by his implications. "I don't have to prove anything to you. I don't belong to you- you have no right to order me around!"

Sabretooth stepped closer, his teeth bared. "You're on my watch, girl," he snarled. "You don't get to make these kinds of choices without my say-so. And definitely not ones that compromise the Brotherhood."

Moxie's tail lashed angrily. "Fine, I'll quit working here. But I refuse to take my clothes off for you. There's no reason for me to do that, and you have no right to ask."

Sabretooth considered. She'd agreed to quit, so what would forcing the issue achieve? Sure, her stubborn defiance was irritating, but so long as he got her safely back to the Brotherhood base, the immediate threat was neutralized. "Fine," he grunted, tucking himself back in and zipping up.

Moxie pushed her way out from under Victor's arm and stalked towards the club's parking lot without another word. She scanned the rows of vehicles, finally glimpsing his car. She stalked towards it, her ankles wobbling precariously in the stiletto heels she wore. When she stumbled and nearly fell on the uneven pavement, she swore, loud and furious.

Victor, following after her, watched as she bent to unbuckle her heels and slide them off her feet. Then, clearly furious at him, at the entire situation, she threw both shoes as hard as she could, each hitting the door of the club with a loud thud. Then she turned back to his car, waiting, barefoot, for him to unlock the vehicle.

When he opened the passenger door for her, she climbed in and sat, glowering at the space just beyond Victor's shoulder. She was unwilling to speak to him. Unwilling to even look at him. The fury radiating off of her was palpable.

Sabretooth took a moment to gather himself before he climbed into the driver's seat, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot. The silence was thick and oppressive, the throb of the music from the club fading into the background as they drove away.

The tension in the car was electric, the air charged with Moxie's anger and his own frustration. He glanced over at her, taking in her slumped posture and tightly crossed arms, her bare legs drawn up under the shirt that barely covered her. He knew he'd offended, maybe even scared her with his outburst. And, okay, exposing his penis was definitely going way too far. His temper had gotten the better of him.

But, fuck, she had no idea what kind of shit could happen in places like that. He'd seen it all, the horrors that could befall a young, beautiful girl. The way men could be, especially when they thought they had power over a mutant girl who, frankly, wasn't all that physically skilled. She could hold her own in a fair sparring session, sure, but she'd never faced a real fight. She didn't have his strength, his claws, his ferocity.

And he'd be lying if he said he wasn't also pissed because, fuck, she was his. His to protect, his to train, his to...

He shoved the thoughts away, focusing on the road ahead. Moxie was a teenager. He was practically her guardian- he'd raised her since she was seven years old, for Christ's sake. He had no right to think of her in that way.

Moxie, still fuming, remained silent. Her eyes were glued to the side window, the neon lights of the city reflecting off her tear-stained cheeks. She felt so... humiliated. Betrayed, almost. He'd seen her at her most vulnerable, and she had no doubt that he was judging her, thinking she was some kind of slut.

Sabretooth's eyes darted to her in the rearview mirror, the car's interior lights casting shadows across her face. He saw the silent tears and the tremble in her chin, and his anger morphed into something else entirely. Regret, maybe.

"Baby," he said, his voice softer than it had been. And, when that only made her back stiffen, "Little shadow." It had been her childhood nickname, murmured in amusement by other Brotherhood members as they watched the tiny feral child who'd followed him everywhere. It had been his way of teasing affection from her. And, apparently, it still worked.

Her eyes snapped to his in the mirror, her breath hitching. "What?" she spat out, voice thick with unshed tears and anger.

"Look, I'm sorry," he began gruffly. "But you can't just go around taking jobs like that without talking to me. I'm supposed to be watching out for you."

Moxie growled and didn't answer, once again turning to glower out the window. Victor felt a spike of irritation, but he tried to tamp it down. One extreme outburst was more than enough for the night. He cleared his throat, hesitated, then reached, gently touching the side of her face, his rough thumb brushing against the silk of her cheek. She flinched, but didn't pull away, and he took that as a sign to continue.

Sometimes, physical touch worked better for mutants like Sabretooth and Moxie than words ever could. They were both classified as feral type mutants, more animalistic than human, and it was a part of their nature to communicate through touch. When Moxie had first come to the Brotherhood, she had been wild, untouchable, a creature of instinct and survival. But over the years, with his gentle coaxing and firm guidance, she had learned to tolerate, then crave, the physical connection that bonded her to him.

So when he reached out now, his hand large and warm against the coolness of her bare skin, she didn't pull away immediately. Instead, she let out a shaky breath, her tail swishing back and forth in agitation. She felt the warmth of his hand, the comforting pressure as he traced a line from her cheekbone to her jaw, and something inside her began to unclench.

"Baby," Sabretooth murmured, and was relieved when Moxie leaned slightly into his hand. She still wasn't speaking, but she wasn't fighting him either. He could feel the tension slowly draining out of her body, and his own shoulders dropped slightly.

He started to rub circles into her neck, his thumb pressing gently into the tense muscles. Her eyes fluttered closed and she let out a soft sigh. His other hand came up to cradle her face, his thumbs wiping away the remnants of her tears. Maybe it wasn't fair to use touch to manipulate her, but it was the most effective way he had to get through to her.

So, fine. He pulled onto the shoulder of the road and ran both palms up the back of her shirt, feeling the ridges of her spine and shoulder blades. The rusty little purr rising from her throat told him she was calming down, and he felt his own anger start to ease. "Look at me, Mox," he whispered, his voice gruff but gentle.

Her eyes met his in the mirror, and he saw the turmoil swirling in those gold depths. She was his little fox, his pupil, and he'd hurt her. But she was also his responsibility, and he'd be damned if he'd let her throw her life away.

"I'm not trying to control you, Mox," he murmured, his thumb making slow, soothing circles on her neck. "But you can't just... do something like this without telling me."

Moxie took a deep breath, her eyes still closed. The slight movements of her body, the way she leaned in and tilted herself, told him where she wanted to be touched. She was as easy to read as a book when it came to this kind of thing. And she had always responded so well to his gentle touch, the way he had taught her to trust and seek comfort from another creature's hands.

He shifted his grip to cup the back of her head, his thumbs still working the tight muscles of her neck. His other hand slid down to her shoulder, his fingers playing over the smooth skin there, tracing the outline of her collarbone. Her breathing grew even, the tightness in her body melting away.

"Mm," she murmured, sounding a bit dazed, though content. "Not fair to... To use touch like that." She didn't pull away, though, and he took that as a good sign.

"It's the only way I know to get through to you," he said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through her. His hands never stopped moving, one on her neck, the other playing with the fabric of her shirt, as if trying to coax her out of her shell. "You're so... wild, Mox. You've always been like that."

Moxie swallowed, feeling his words resonate within her. It was true; she had been wild when she first joined the Brotherhood. She still was in many ways, but with Victor, she had found a strange, almost paternal comfort in his rough embrace. His touch had always had a way of calming her, even when she was at her most rebellious and fiery. She knew he was manipulating her, but she couldn't find it in herself to be angry anymore.

Sabretooth felt the shift in her energy, and his own aggression melted away. He slid his hand from her neck down to her chest, his palm resting just over her heart. He could feel it racing, and his own heart swelled with a fierce protectiveness. He leaned closer, his nose brushing against her hair, inhaling the scent of her, the smell of the club fading away to reveal the sweet, musky scent of his little fox beneath.

Cyclops grit his teeth in pure frustration. Xavier's mansion had been in a state of chaos ever since Xavier had admitted the incorrigible Moxie into the school.

Cyclops had butted heads with the girl since day one. She was stubborn, reckless, and refused to listen to even the simplest of orders. She was going to get herself killed someday, and probably half the school with her.

He had tried explaining to Professor Xavier that she was a risk, but the old man was as stubborn as she was, insisting that she had potential. "Potential for what?" Cyclops wondered aloud, his thoughts echoing through the empty hallways as he patrolled the school.

Xavier had sighed. "It's a bit beneath you to fight so much with a teenager, isn't it, Scott?" he asked gently.

But Cyclops wasn't in the mood for gentle. "With all due respect, Professor, she's not just any teenager. She's a menace," he said through clenched teeth.

Moxie had a knack for finding trouble, and she always seemed to drag others into it with her. Earlier that month, she had convinced a group of students to sneak into the Danger Room for an unauthorized training session. It had taken hours to repair the damage she had caused. And the next day, she had hacked into Cerebro, sending the school's security systems into a frenzy.

She was an unfortunate combination of fearlessness, a sharp tongue, and just enough intelligence to be dangerous.

He'd just gotten out of yet another class that she'd disrupted, forever seeking attention, being clingy, and altogether annoying the snot out of him. It was like she was determined to get his attention, but in the most obnoxious way possible. Cyclops felt his head pound and his jaw clench as he stormed through the corridor, the echoes of his steps bouncing off the walls.

He stopped by the teacher's bathroom, hiding in a stall so he could catch his breath for just a minute, waiting for his blood pressure to calm. He'd just caught his breath when the door opened again, and he bit back a curse. He really couldn't have a minute to himself!

He remained in the stall as two people entered the bathroom, footsteps hasty.

"I'm not supposed to be in here." Moxie's voice.

Moxie? Scott's eyes widened.

"Mr. Xavier, I'm not supposed to be in here!" she repeated, sounding uncomfortable. "This... This is the men's bathroom..."

"Hush, darling. I just need a minute." There was a rustle of fabric, a soft groan, a wet sound. "There we go- on your knees, good girl..."

"Mr. Xavier..." Moxie again, whimpering. "No, please. I don't like when we play this game. Can't we do the other one, instead?"

"No, we can't." Xavier's voice was sharp. "Hank paused your birth control, remember? And I'm not knocking you up. Until he orders new birth control for you, this is the game we'll play. Now, on your knees, I said!"

Moxie let out a defeated whimper, but apparently she did as she was told, because Xavier murmured a soft, "good girl." There was a sound of a zipper, and then a quiet sucking, the occasional gag, filled the small bathroom.

"Good girl," Xavier repeated, his voice breathy now. "There we go. That's my girl. You've become such a good cocksucker, haven't you?"

Scott's mind was racing, his heart hammering in his chest. The horror of what he was hearing was like a vice around his throat, choking him. This was his mentor, the man he looked up to, speaking so crudely to one of his own students. He felt like he was going to be sick, his fists clenching so hard that his knuckles turned white.

He was torn between his duty as an X-Men and his revulsion. Should he intervene? He knew it was wrong, but he couldn't move. He was paralyzed with shock, his body refusing to act on the fury building within him. The sounds grew louder, more intense, and he realized with a jolt that this had been going on for longer than he'd realized.

Moxie coughed, whined. "Please," she mumbled. "I... I don't like it when you do that part When you push all down my throat like-" she choked again, gagging louder.

Xavier's voice grew sterner. "Hush, now. You know the rules. Take it like a good girl, and you'll get all the treats your little heart desires. You want that pony show on television, don't you? And spaghetti for dinner? And- oh, fuck, yes, just like that..."

The noises grew more rhythmic, and Scott's stomach churned. The thought of his mentor, his friend, doing this to a child, to a student... it was too much. He leaned heavily against the stall door, his mind racing with confusion and anger. This couldn't be happening. This was his mentor, a man who had dedicated his life to helping mutants, to creating a peaceful future for them.

Oh, God. Was this the source of Moxie's acting out? Forever trying to get his attention, forever pushing his buttons, because she had no one else to turn to? The realization hit him like a truck, and he felt his legs wobble. He had to do something, he couldn't just stand there and listen. But his body was frozen, his mind a swirl of rage and despair.

"Fuck," Xavier moaned again. "Daddy's going to cum down your pretty throat. Swallow it all, darling- I'll buy you a new coloring book. Wouldn't you like that?"

Scott's hand hovered over the stall door handle, his knuckles still white. He had to intervene, had to save Moxie from this monster. But his body was a statue, rooted to the spot, as if the very floor was made of lead. The sounds grew more obscene, the smack of flesh and wetness echoing in his ears. He felt like he was going to be sick, his mind screaming at him to act. But he couldn't. Not yet. He was too shocked, too horrified to move.

Xavier must have achieved climax, because he gave a low groan. A second later, Moxie coughed and sputtered, panting for breath. "Good girl," he said, his voice thick with satisfaction. "My sweet, special girl- oh, now, are those tears I see? Darling, you know not to cry. Come... Oh, it's alright. You're so sensitive. There we go, you're alright."

Scott heard a sniffle, a soft sob. Xavier murmuring words of comfort, always tinged with condescension, as though Moxie was being unreasonable for crying after being forced to perform such a degrading act. His fists clenched, and his heart felt like it was being crushed in a vice. This wasn't the Xavier he knew, the one who preached peace and understanding. This was a monster, hiding behind a façade of kindness.

"Okay. Okay, now." Xavier hummed. "Wash your face. Show me your pretty smile- there it is! There's my brave girl."

"Yes, Daddy." Moxie's voice was a hoarse croak, her throat raw.

"And what's the biggest rule?" Xavier pressed.

"Never, ever tell anyone about our secret," Moxie mumbled obediently.

"Because?" Xavier prompted.

"Because other people won't understand," Moxie whispered, her voice trembling. "They'll say you're hurting me, when you really just love me."

"That's right," Xavier said, his tone sickeningly gentle. "Because no one loves you like Daddy does, yes?"

"Yes, Daddy." Moxie's response was barely audible, a painful acknowledgment of the twisted reality she was trapped in. "I love you, too."

Cyclops couldn't believe what he was hearing. The betrayal was palpable, thick enough to suffocate him. His mind was screaming to burst out and stop this, but his body remained frozen, his hand still hovering over the door handle. He needed to hear it all, to understand the full extent of Xavier's depravity.

He listened as Xavier tucked himself back into his pants, his zipper sounding like a gunshot in the silence. The faucet turned on, water running as Moxie cleaned up. He could almost feel her humiliation through the stall door, and his own grew with it.

"You're a good girl," Xavier said, his voice sickly sweet. "Remember, not a word to anyone, yes? You'll come to my quarters after curfew, and I'll have your coloring book and your dinner and we'll watch the pony show together. Now go back to class and don't let anyone know what a good job you just did."

The water stopped and the sound of a towel being used echoed through the bathroom. "Okay," she agreed. She paused. "We... We don't have to play the game that hurts this time, right? You said I could have a break?"

"We'll see, darling," Xavier said, his tone deceptively comforting. "Now off to class with you."

The door opened and closed, the sound echoing through the small room. Cyclops waited, his breath shallow, his heart racing. He had to make sure Xavier was gone before he did anything. The moments ticked by like hours, each one heavier than the last. Finally, he heard the sound of retreating footsteps, growing fainter as they disappeared down the hallway.

He stepped out of the stall, his mind a tumult of rage and disgust. He looked at the sink, the water still running slightly, and the sight of it made him want to smash something. Instead, he turned off the faucet and took a deep breath. Moxie was gone too, probably running back to class, her mind racing with fear and confusion.

Cyclops knew he couldn't confront Xavier directly. Not yet. He needed to gather evidence, to make sure he wasn't just hearing things. He needed to protect the students, all of them, from this monster masquerading as their protector.

Moxie's POV

Moxie carefully snuck from the student dorms, slipping behind an oil painting of pears along a hidden passageway that led straight to Xavier's sitting room.

On emerging behind his bookshelf, she peeked around the spacious living area, hoping for a glimpse of her 'daddy'. At last spying him in the kitchen, the lowered countertops designed for better wheelchair access, her tail gave a wag.

"Daddy!" she whispered, bright, and she smiled when he perked up, his eyes sharpening. She knew he was always eager to see her, eager to play their special games.

"There's my darling," he greeted warmly, approaching to unlatch the bookcase and allow her in. She giggled, throwing her arms around his neck, snuffling the front of his chest. Her sensitive fox nose picked up traces of what he'd been cooking- beef, onion, garlic, tomato-

"Spaghetti!" she wiggled excitedly, her eyes sparkling with hope.

Xavier chuckled, lifting her chin gently. "Ah, you've missed your favorite, haven't you?"

That only made her grin. "Spaghetti is very good, but you're my real favorite." She touched noses with him, nuzzling in their special greeting. His smile made it all worthwhile.

They went to the kitchen, and she watched him with hungry eyes as he cooked, the smell of tomato sauce and meat filling the room. She felt so lucky to have him. Even though she didn't understand why they had to keep their love a secret, she knew it was theirs alone.

"Did you have a nice day, sweetheart?" Xavier minced the fresh garlic bulbs with practiced ease, the smell mingling with the simmering sauce.

"I was good," Moxie replied, her voice a soft purr. She had learned early on that good behavior earned her rewards. "I didn't get into any trouble."

Xavier winked. "That's my girl." He placed the garlic into the sauce, stirring gently. "Would you set the table?" There was a twinkle in his eye as he considered the dishware sets. "I think... The yellow daisy print?"

Moxie sighed, shoulders slumping. She preferred the-

"Or, I suppose," Xavier's smile widened. "The blue primrose would be more to your taste tonight?"

Moxie's ears perked up. "The blue one! Yes, please!" She took the plates and silverware from the cabinets with a newfound bounce in her step. Xavier's fond chuckles followed her out of the kitchen.

They sat down to dinner, the steaming plates of spaghetti placed before them, the aroma making Moxie's mouth water. She took a bite, savoring the tang of tomato and the richness of the beef. Xavier watched her with a proud smile, his eyes filled with affection.

"Your cooking is the most best," she mumbled, and then reddened, remembering her manners. She made sure she was sitting up, using the correct fork, and swallowed her mouthful properly. Xavier chuckled at her enthusiasm, patting her head gently.

"Thank you, darling. Remember, we must eat our veggies, too," he reminded her, pointing to the side salad.

She gave an overdramatic sigh, just to make him laugh again. Salad wasn't all that bad, but it amused him when she pretended to dislike it. They ate in a comfortable silence, the only sound the occasional clink of silverware against plates. The warmth of the room was a stark contrast to the cold hallways of the mansion, and she felt a deep sense of belonging here, with him.

"I ordered more bath salts," Xavier mentioned casually as he cleared their plates, placing them in the sink. "Your favorite, darling. The ones that smell like rose and vanilla."

She brightened. "Are we gonna have a bath tonight?!" Bathing together in Xavier's specialized tub was one of her favorite parts of their secret rituals. It was where she felt the safest, where she felt truly loved.

"If you've been a good girl," he said with a knowing smile. "And I think you have been."

Moxie's heart fluttered. She had been so good, and she knew it. "I've been so, so good, Daddy," she said, her voice earnest.

"You certainly have," Xavier nodded, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he rinsed their plates. "Let's get you into the bath, then."

Moxie squealed with delight, hopping down from her chair. She danced her way to the bathroom, her little paws clicking on the tiles as she went. She knew the bath was going to be perfect- warm, bubbly, with just the right amount of salts to make the water shimmer. She felt her tail wag just thinking about it.

Xavier followed, moving his chair with surprising grace. He had always been so gentle with her, so kind. She had never felt anything but love from him, despite what the others thought. They didn't understand their special bond, their special games. It was just them, Daddy and his little girl.

The bathroom was already filled with the heavenly scent of the bath salts. Moxie's tail swished back and forth as she watched Xavier run the water, testing the temperature with his hand. He knew just how she liked it- not too hot, not too cold, just right. The tub was big enough for both of them, with disability aids that made it easier, safer, for him to maneuver in his chair. She felt a warm rush of love for him, watching him with adoration.

"Alright, my little love," Xavier said, his voice gentle as he patted the side of the tub. "Clothes, please- oh, my goodness!"

She grinned. She'd been pretending to climb into the tub fully dressed, just to be silly. His laughter was the sweetest sound she knew, and she loved making him laugh. "What on earth!" he exclaimed, feigning shock. "I don't think so, young lady!"

Moxie giggled and undressed, unzipping and unbuttoning. "Just kidding!" she exclaimed, tossing her clothes into a neat pile. Xavier chuckled, his eyes never leaving hers as she revealed her naked body, which she knew he liked to see.

Once the tub was filled to the brim with warm, fragrant water, Xavier helped her climb in. She sighed contentedly as she sank into the bubbles, the scent of roses and vanilla surrounding her like a warm blanket. He wheeled his chair closer, reaching down to stroke her wet fur, his touch sending shivers down her spine.

"You, too, Daddy!" she reached for him. "It's better when we're both in the water."

He laughed, a sound that made her feel all warm and tingly inside. "Alright, darling," he agreed, transferring himself from his chair to the tub. The water sloshed around them, and she felt his strong arms lift her, placing her on his lap. The warmth of the water and his body washed over her, and she leaned back against his chest, feeling his muscles tense and release as he got comfortable.

"I love you," she sighed blissfully, nuzzling into his chest. His chest and arms were so strong, the muscles rippling beneath the water as he held her close.

"And I love you," Xavier whispered into her ear, his breath tickling her. She felt his hands on her fur, stroking her in gentle, soothing patterns that made her want to purr.

They played in the water for a while, Xavier washing her fur with care, his hands gliding over her body as he washed away the day's grime. Moxie knew that this was their special time, where they didn't have to hide their love from anyone. She felt safe here, nestled in his arms, his warmth surrounding her in the bubbly water.

As the bubbles began to dissipate, Xavier picked up a sponge, lathering it with a gentle soap. He began to wash her more thoroughly, his hands moving over her in slow, methodical strokes that were both comforting and thrilling. She leaned back into him, her eyes half-closed, enjoying the feeling of his touch on her skin.

Hopefully, she parted her thighs, just a fraction. She peeked at Xavier from the corner of her eye, wondering if he'd noticed, but his expression gave nothing away. Pouting, she spread her legs a bit wider, then wider still.

"Daddy," she huffed, when he still didn't acknowledge her subtle invitation.

Xavier paused, his eyes meeting hers in the reflection of the water's surface. He understood her silent plea and took the sponge to her inner thighs, his strokes lingering. She shivered with excitement, her breath catching in her throat. This was their secret, their special game that she cherished.

The sponge danced closer to her sex, teasing her sensitive flesh. She felt herself growing wetter, her body reacting to his touch. He chuckled, knowing exactly how much she liked it when he took his time. "Good girl," he murmured, his thumb brushing over her clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through her. "You're so eager, aren't you?"

Moxie whined softly, her tail thumping against Xavier's leg as he washed her. She leaned back into him, his warmth seeping into her bones as the water sloshed around them. The sound of the faucet was comforting, the steady drip-drop echoing through the tiles.

"Daddy, please," she requested, taking his wrist and pushing his hand more firmly between her legs. "I was good all day. I got all my homework done, and I ate that salad, just like you said."

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through her chest. "And what does a good girl get?"

"Our secret game," she breathed, her voice a mix of excitement and anticipation.

"Indeed," Xavier said, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He took the sponge from her and continued to wash her, his strokes growing more deliberate and sensual. "You've been such a good girl, Moxie. You deserve a reward."

Moxie felt a thrill at his words, her tail wagging harder as he touched her. She knew the secret game was coming, the one that made her feel so special and grown-up. She watched as his hand moved the sponge away, leaving a trail of clean fur, and replaced it with his bare fingers. They glided over her clit, sending waves of pleasure through her body. She gasped, her eyes fluttering closed.

"Daddy," she whispered, her voice a soft mewl of pleasure. His touch grew firmer, more insistent, as he began to explore her folds. She felt herself opening up to him, her body eager for his attention. It was a heady feeling, one she had come to crave. "More," she begged, arching her back.

He leaned down, kissing the side of her neck as his fingers danced over her clit. She squirmed in his lap, the sensation building within her like a storm. Xavier knew exactly how to touch her, how to make her feel alive in a way she never had before. His love was all-consuming, a warmth that spread through her like wildfire.

"It feels so good," she panted, her head falling back. She pinned his hand against that one, particular spot. "Daddy, can we use the... The toy that makes it feel like sparkles?"

Cyclops grit his teeth in pure frustration. Xavier's mansion had been in a state of chaos ever since Xavier had admitted the incorrigible Moxie into the school.

Cyclops had butted heads with the girl since day one. She was stubborn, reckless, and refused to listen to even the simplest of orders. She was going to get herself killed someday, and probably half the school with her.

He had tried explaining to Professor Xavier that she was a risk, but the old man was as stubborn as she was, insisting that she had potential. "Potential for what?" Cyclops wondered aloud, his thoughts echoing through the empty hallways as he patrolled the school.

Xavier had sighed. "It's a bit beneath you to fight so much with a teenager, isn't it, Scott?" he asked gently.

But Cyclops wasn't in the mood for gentle. "With all due respect, Professor, she's not just any teenager. She's a menace," he said through clenched teeth.

Moxie had a knack for finding trouble, and she always seemed to drag others into it with her. Earlier that month, she had convinced a group of students to sneak into the Danger Room for an unauthorized training session. It had taken hours to repair the damage she had caused. And the next day, she had hacked into Cerebro, sending the school's security systems into a frenzy.

She was an unfortunate combination of fearlessness, a sharp tongue, and just enough intelligence to be dangerous.

Xavier looked at him with those piercing eyes that seemed to see right through to his soul. "Scott, I have my reasons. I know you think I'm turning a blind eye to her behavior, but I assure you, I do address it. I have weekly meetings with her; I'm sure you didn't know that."

"You do?" Scott frowned. "Well... What about?"

Xavier sighed. "It's confidential, Scott. I am helping Moxie work through some things. It's a type of therapy."

Cyclops was skeptical. "Therapy? For what? Being a brat?"

For the first time, Xavier was a little short with him. "Scott. You should know better than anyone. Everyone has demons. Everyone has scars. Just because Ms. Tanaka gets on your nerves doesn't mean you know everything about her past."

Cyclops took a step back, feeling the sting of the Professor's words. He knew Xavier was right. His own past was littered with painful memories, moments that had shaped him into the leader he was today. Perhaps he had been too quick to judge Moxie without understanding her story.

"Is there anything you can tell me?" he asked hoarsely. "Just... Help me understand."

Xavier considered a moment. "Well... As it is technically public record, I can tell you that my lawyer and I are working to get Ms. Tanaka emancipated from her parents. It's very important to me and to her that she never be forced to interact with them again."

Cyclops's eyes widened. "What did they do to her?"

Xavier regarded him. "I don't think she'd want me to say," he replied. "It's a personal and delicate matter. Ms. Tanaka is struggling with quite a lot of trauma. I am open to suggestions, but I can't and won't expel or suspend her from this school."

The conversation weighed heavily on Cyclops' mind. He had his own demons, yes, but he had never considered that Moxie might be fighting battles of her own. He resolved to approach her with more empathy and less aggression.

He could piece some things together. Emancipation was serious, and if Xavier never wanted Moxie to interact with her parents again, that spoke of severe abuse. Kids who'd been abused often had behavioral issues, especially if they hadn't had the right help to deal with the trauma.

Cyclops found himself looking at Moxie differently. Her constant need for attention, the way she pushed boundaries - it was all starting to make sense. It didn't make her behavior any less frustrating, but understanding her context softened his anger.

He tried not to read too much into it, but he found himself wondering what she might have faced. Her behavior towards boys was especially worrying... And telling.

The next time he saw her, Cyclops approached with more reserve than usual. Moxie was surrounded by a group of giggling students, her sharp wit and infectious energy lighting up their faces. He cleared his throat, and she looked over at him. Her fox ears pinned flat to her skull- she was clearly expecting a lecture.

"What did I do this time," she sighed, crossing her arms.

Cyclops took a deep breath. "Actually, Moxie, I just wanted to talk to you."

There was a flicker of surprise in her gold eyes. "Uh," she said. "Okay..." She followed him into an empty classroom, her tail swishing nervously behind her.

"Look, I know we haven't exactly hit it off," Cyclops began, leaning against the teacher's desk. "And I'm not saying I agree with everything you do, but I just wanted to tell you that... I'm here if you need to talk. Or, if you ever need help."

The surprise in her eyes grew to outright bafflement. "What... What's gotten into you?" she asked, trying to smile. "Did you finally get out of bed on the right side?"

"Just had a talk with Professor Xavier," he said, his voice a tad gentler than usual. "He filled me in on some things about you."

Oh, she went very still at that. "What did he tell you?" she asked, voice cracking.

Scott sighed. He'd worded that poorly- it probably sounded like Xavier had spilled all of her secrets. "He didn't tell me the details, Moxie, just that you've been through some tough times. And that you're working through them."

Moxie looked away, a wall going up. "Yeah, well, who hasn't," she mumbled, trying to sound nonchalant. Her shoulders were tense.

Cyclops softened his tone even further. "Look, I know you're tough, and you can handle yourself," he said, his eyes never leaving hers. "But everyone needs a break sometimes. Even Wolverine needs to put down the claws and take a breath."

That brought a small smile from her. He knew she had a soft spot for Wolverine- no doubt she related to his gruff exterior. "Maybe," she conceded.

He regarded her. "Look," he said quietly. "I know you think I'm a hard-ass. But I do see a lot of good in you. You're smart. You're strong. You protect the people who matter to you. I see that."

Moxie stared at him for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then, she let out a shaky laugh. "Wow. Did aliens replace you with a nice version of Cyclops?"

Cyclops couldn't help but chuckle. "No aliens involved. Just a little perspective." He paused, then leaned in a little closer. "But between you and me, I've had worse days. And when I was your age, I probably would have given you a run for your money in the 'getting into trouble' department."

That brought a sparkle of curiosity to her eyes. Her bushy tail swished. "Yeah? Care to share any wild stories?"

Cyclops raised an eyebrow, considering. "Let's just say I've had my fair share of... rebellious moments. But that's a conversation for another time." He pushed off the desk and offered her a small smile. "For now, just remember that you're not alone. If you ever need anything, or if you just want to blow off steam in the Danger Room with someone who won't rat you out," he said, "I'm here."

Now both her eyebrows were raised. She gave him a cautious grin. "Damn," she whistled. "When did you get cool?"

Cyclops felt himself blush slightly. "I've always been cool," he said defensively.

Her giggle was surprisingly cute. Not mocking, really, just... honest. It was the first time he had seen Moxie drop her guard, and it made him realize just how young she was underneath her bravado.

"So... What's the catch?" she asked, her voice a mix of skepticism and hope.

Cyclops held up his hands in surrender. "No catch," he said, his voice sincere. "Just trying to extend an olive branch."

"Hmm..." She considered, a little suspiciously. But something in his tone, something in his eyes, told her he was being genuine. "Okay," she finally said, with a shrug, and then peeked at him slyly. "Does that mean you're dropping all the detentions I owe?"

Cyclops rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth twitched upwards. "Don't push it," he said, but he couldn't help the smirk that accompanied it.

Her tail wagged. For a moment, she looked more like a puppy than a troublemaker. "Alright, no more pranks?" she promised. "Well, no big ones. I can't promise not to have some fun."

Cyclops sighed, but he couldn't help the small grin that tugged at his lips. "We'll see, Moxie," he said. "Just keep the fun legal and the school standing."

Her grin, then, was bright as sunlight.

Oh. So that was why some of the male students looked at her like she'd personally hung the moon and stars. She could be... charming, when she wanted to be. "Fine," Cyclops said, the corner of his mouth twitching up. "But remember, I've got laser eyes. I'll know if you're up to no good."

Moxie laughed, and for a brief moment, the weight of the mansion's tension seemed to lift. They talked a little more, nothing of consequence, but it was a start. Cyclops felt the beginnings of a tentative peace. He had his doubts, of course. Moxie was still a handful, and she had a lot of growing to do, but maybe, just maybe, there was hope for her.

Days turned into weeks, and gradually, Cyclops noticed a subtle shift in Moxie's behavior. She still pushed the boundaries, but she was less confrontational with him. And she did come to him, every once in a while, for advice or a sparring partner in the Danger Room.

He also got used to her humor, however gradually. Once he realized that half her snarky comments were meant as jokes, not insults, he found himself actually chuckling at her quips.

"Mr. Summers, I'm gonna go feed Rictor to some alligators, okay?" she asked, picking the bigger boy up over her shoulder like he weighed nothing.

Rictor's giggles filled the Danger Room as Moxie pretended to throw him into the virtual alligator pit. "Moxie, I've told you a hundred times, I'm not a snack!" he protested, his laughter bubbling over.

Cyclops couldn't help but smirk at their banter. It was moments like these that made him realize how much potential she had. If only she could harness that energy for good.

"Save me, Cyke!" Rictor giggled as Moxie dangled him over the virtual alligators, who chomped at his toes.

"On it," Cyclops said, his eyes gleaming with amusement, and blasted the alligators with his optic beam. They disappeared in a huff of pixels.

"Damn," Moxie grinned. "My dastardly plans, foiled again!"

Rictor squirmed out of her grip and stuck his tongue out at her. "You're the worst villain ever."

"But the cutest." She posed, tossing her thick red hair. "Magneto's got nothing on all this." She gave her rear a shake.

Cyclops couldn't help but laugh. It was a small, surprised sound, but genuine. It felt good. And the look on Moxie's face, the light that flashed in her gold eyes, it was as though she had won a battle she hadn't known she was fighting.

The three of them continued to spar in the Danger Room, their laughter echoing off the walls. It was a sound that had been all too rare in the recent tension-filled days. Cyclops had to admit, Moxie's spirit was infectious. And while it was often misguided, it was hard to completely stifle.

When she transformed into her fox form, easily climbing to the rafters and scaling thin wooden planks with ease, he couldn't help but admire her agility. "You know," he said, watching her, "that could be an asset if you learn to control it."

Grinning, she let herself fall off a rafter, resuming her human form just in time to wrap a leg around the beam. She dangled from the ceiling from that one leg, reaching and swinging as she tried to grab the target atop a virtual mountain.

"Maybe," she panted, "but it's so much fun not to control it."

Cyclops watched her, his expression torn between admiration and concern. "You're going to get hurt," he said, not for the first time.

"Nah, Rictor will catch me," she teased, shooting the boy a wink. "He loves me."

Rictor's blush made it clear how true that probably was.

But as they continued their training, it became equally clear that Moxie had a serious side. When she was focused, her movements were sharp, precise. Her reflexes were astonishing, and her control over her powers was... not perfect, but improving. Cyclops had to admit, she had potential. Real potential.

One evening, when the mansion had settled into a quiet lull, Moxie found him in his office, surrounded by paperwork. She hovered at the door, watching him.

Cyclops looked up. "What is it?" he asked, his voice brusquer than he'd intended.

She gave a shimmy. "You're just so handsome when you're all focused," she teased, stepping into the room. She leaned against the wall, her fox tail swishing back and forth.

He sighed. "Moxie, not now."

"Aw," she pouted. "No fun allowed?"

Cyclops rubbed his forehead. "Look, I appreciate that we're getting along better, but I'm not here to be your entertainment."

She made a face. "Fine," she snapped. "Never mind, then." She turned to go.

He realized she'd actually been intending to say something, but his response had put her off. He sighed.

"Hold on," he said, gesturing for her to stay. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. What's on your mind?"

Her tail lashed. She didn't look at him. "I just wanted to ask where you were staying over the winter break. Xavier's leaving the country, and none of the other staff can take me home. So, like. I was gonna ask if I could stay with you, or I'll end up in a foster home for two weeks."

The words hung in the air, thick with the weight of her vulnerability. Cyclops felt a twist in his stomach. Some cursory digging had taught him that her parents were incarcerated, awaiting trial, but the ongoing case meant he couldn't yet find out why.

"You're... you're serious?" he asked, his voice a little softer.

"I mean, I was, til you had to be a dick again," she muttered. "I wanted to just go home with Rictor, but since I'm apparently a 'ward of the state,' or whatever, it has to be approved by the school."

Cyclops felt a pang of regret for his brusque attitude. He could see the walls going up again, and he didn't want to push her away. "Moxie," he said, his voice gentler this time. "I didn't mean it like that. Of course you can stay with me."

Her head whipped around, those golden eyes wide. "Really?" she asked, hope peeking through the bravado.

"Yeah, really," Cyclops said, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "If you don't mind a weird, mostly empty bachelor pad." Ever since Jean kicked him out, he'd moved to a minimalist apartment in the city. It was sparse, but it was home.

Moxie's tail wagged uncontrollably. "No way, you have a place? That's cool!" she said, a touch of awe in her voice. "I've never been to the city. Can we get pizza?"

"We can get whatever you want," Cyclops replied, a smile tugging at his lips despite the mountain of paperwork in front of him. "But you have to promise to behave."

"Aw, man, fine," she sighed, but her grin told him she was teasing. "You mean I can't hire any strippers or throw wild parties?"

Cyclops raised an eyebrow. "I'd prefer not to come home to that," he said, his voice deadpan, but the hint of a smile lurking in his eyes.

Her grin eclipsed her face, crinkling her eyes at the corners. She darted in, quick as a flash, and hugged him, squeezing him breathless. "Thanks, Mr. Summers," she said, and then darted down the hallway just as fast, cheering, leaving only the scent of her shampoo lingering in the room.

Cyclops stared after her, his hand on his chest where she had hugged him. He hadn't been expecting that. It was the first time she had shown genuine affection, and it left him feeling... touched. It was a stark reminder of how much she was craving normalcy and a sense of belonging. He sighed and turned back to his paperwork, deciding to tackle it in the morning.

The winter break was fast approaching, and the mansion was abuzz with students preparing to leave for their respective homes. Cyclops knew he had to get ready for Moxie to stay with him. He had never had to take care of a teenage girl before, especially one with such a... unique personality. He hoped she didn't drive him up the wall too much.

Xavier called him to his office two days before the winter break was to begin. "Scott," he said, his gaze knowing. "I've received the foster care request for Moxie. Is there anything you'd like to tell me?"

Cyclops felt his face heat. "Ah, yes. She'll be staying with me," he said, trying to sound nonchalant.

Professor Xavier's expression remained unreadable. "I see. And how are you feeling about that?"

Cyclops took a deep breath. "It's fine," he said, trying to convince himself. "It's only two weeks."

"Is it?" Xavier's gaze was penetrating. "I know you've been trying with her, Scott. I appreciate that."

Cyclops nodded. "It's not like I have a choice. She needs a place to stay."

"You did have a choice, Scott," Xavier said gently. "I'm proud of you for opening up to her. She's going through a rough patch and could use a stable influence. Besides," he added with a twinkle in his eye, "I suspect she'll keep you on your toes."

Cyclops couldn't argue with that. The prospect of spending two weeks with Moxie was a mix of excitement and dread. But he had promised, and he was a man of his word. Plus, he had to admit, there was something about her fiery spirit that intrigued him.

"I do have to prepare you for some... Moxie-isms, for lack of a better word," Xavier warned with a small smile. "As a result of her therapy, she often has nightmares. You might find yourself... Disturbed in the night. But I assure you, she's just processing."

Cyclops frowned. "Disturbed?"

"By the screaming," Xavier said, as though it was the most normal thing in the world.

Cyclops felt his stomach drop. "Screaming?"

Xavier nodded solemnly. "It's part of her healing process. She's faced a lot, and she's still learning to deal with her fears and traumas. You're free to just ignore it... I'm sure she'd prefer it," he said with a knowing look. "But if you could offer her some comfort, it might help her feel more at ease."

Cyclops felt his resolve waver. He wasn't exactly the comforting type, but he had promised to be there for Moxie. "Alright, I'll... I'll do what I can," he said, his voice a mix of determination and dread.

"And one other bit of advice," Xavier said, his smile much warmer. "Try to have fun, Scott. I think this might be a positive experience for the both of you, if you allow it to be."

Cyclops nodded, though the thought of 'fun' with Moxie was a bit daunting. But he knew the Professor had a point. Maybe this break from the school's rigid structure could be good for her.

On the morning they were all set to leave the school, Scott emerged from his quarters, rubbing his tired eyes. As the hallway only housed his fellow teachers, he hadn't bothered to put a robe over his boxers and tank top.

Moxie, standing right at his door, blinked, her eyes wide. "Whoa, uh. Good morning," she said, her face going a little red. "Usually you have pants on."

Cyclops groaned, turning away. "Just a second," he said, shutting the door hastily. When he emerged fully dressed, she was leaning against the wall, arms folded, looking entirely too amused for so early in the morning.

She had her backpack on, and she was fully dressed, looking for too perky for six in the morning. "Can we go? Is it time to go?!"

Jesus.

Cyclops was not a morning person. The last thing he needed was Moxie's boundless energy slapping him across the face before his first cup of coffee.

"Moxie," he groaned, rubbing his face. "I'm begging you to get lost for at least an hour. Please?"

She made a face at him, but complied, shrugging her backpack off in her doorway before scampering off. No doubt she had some last-minute havoc to wreak throughout the school before they left.

With a sigh, Cyclops made his way to the kitchen to brew a much-needed pot of coffee, and some breakfast.

When he had a steaming mug in hand and some toast to munch on, he felt slightly more human. The mansion was eerily quiet, a stark contrast to the usual buzz of students and staff. The silence was peaceful but also a stark reminder of the responsibility he'd signed up for.

He saw a flash of red, and peeked out the window. The sight of Moxie in her fox form, running through the snow banks and snapping at falling flakes, brought a grin to his face.

It was a rare moment of peace from the usual chaos she brought with her. He had to admit, she was beautiful in that form, graceful and unbridled.

When she dove headfirst into a snowbank, her back legs and tail sticking straight up from the top, he found himself laughing. She popped out, snow clinging to her fur, and shook it off, spraying snow everywhere. Then she was off again, chasing a squirrel.

It was strange to feel a sense of fondness towards the girl who had caused so much trouble, but he couldn't help it. She had a spark to her, a refusal to let the world keep her down, and that was something he respected.

He finished his breakfast, had a shower and a shave, and got dressed. By the time he was ready, most of the school had finally woken up.

He gathered up Moxie's backpack and made his way towards her room, but stilled when he heard Rictor's voice coming from inside.

"Mox," the boy was saying. "I'm... I'm gonna miss you."

"Aw, babe," Moxie soothed. "It's alright. You'll see me in two weeks..."

Scott winced, feeling like he was intruding. He awkwardly backed up, giving them a moment to say their goodbyes.

"Mox," Rictor said quietly. "What about your parents?"

Scott couldn't help but perk up at the mention of them. He knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but the mention of her parents had his curiosity piqued. He waited outside, trying to be as quiet as possible, his grip tight on the backpack.

Moxie sighed. "What about them, Julio?"

Scott heard Rictor fidgeting. "Well... Aren't you gonna visit them for Christmas?"

"No." Moxie's voice was sharp, cold. "They can both drop dead."

There was another pause. "You don't mean it, Mox," Rictor said, his voice so soft. "I know you're sad."

Moxie heaved a shaky sigh. "I guess. But what can I do about it? It's not my fault they decided to pimp me out. I was five, Julio. Am I supposed to just... Forgive that shit?"

Cyclops's grip on the backpack tightened. Pimped out? As in, child trafficking? That was a level of depravity he had never even considered. He felt a hot anger rising in his chest, directed not at Moxie, but at her monstrous parents. He took a deep breath to calm himself, not wanting to interrupt their conversation, but also not sure if he could stomach much more of it.

"Mox," Rictor said tentatively. "The shit they did to you... It was sick. Evil. And I'm... I'm so fucking sorry. But... maybe, just maybe, you can find some peace if you, like, talk to them?"

"No," Moxie said, firm and sharp. And then, after a minute, "not yet. I'm not ready."

"Okay, mi vida," Rictor said gently. "Whenever you're ready. I'm here for you."

There was a pause, and then Scott heard a sound that- was Moxie... Kissing Rictor?

Oh. Scott supposed the signs were there, but. Jean had always called him oblivious to that kind of thing.

He cleared his throat, loudly. "Moxie, you ready to go?" he called, a little awkwardly.

There was a thump, a curse. He imagined Rictor hitting his head on Moxie's headboard, and fought back a snort.

"Almost!" Moxie called out, her voice slightly muffled. "Be right there, Mr. Summers!"

Cyclops rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall, sipping his coffee. He'd never thought he'd be playing chaperone to a pair of teenagers with superpowers and traumatic pasts. But here he was. He heard more shuffling and whispering from within the room. He didn't know much about Moxie's relationship with Rictor, but it was clear there was something more than friendship there. He took another sip, hoping they'd hurry.

A second later, Moxie emerged. She gave him an enormous grin and spun, showing off her Santa hat and obnoxious Christmas sweater, bright with blinking lights.

Cyclops raised an eyebrow. "Is that really necessary?"

"Don't be a Grinch," she huffed. "I'm Santa's Christmas fox." She wagged her tail.

Cyclops sighed, his own smile playing at his lips. "If you say so," he said, handing her the backpack.

Rictor emerged a second later with a dopey grin on his face, a smear of Moxie's purple lipstick staining his neck. "See you in two, Mr. Summers," he said, waving.

Moxie grabbed Rictor's hand and squeezed it tight before letting it go. "Yeah, see ya," she said, her voice a little rough around the edges. "Don't let your abuela eat all the good cookies," she teased, trying to lighten the mood.

Cyclops nodded, giving Rictor a clap on the shoulder. "Take care of yourself," he said, and the boy nodded before retreating down the hallway.

Moxie watched him go, her expression unreadable. "So," she said, turning to Cyclops. "Ready for our grand adventure?"

He couldn't help the twitch of his mouth. "Adventure, huh?"

"Yeah, you know," she said, her eyes shining with a mix of excitement and hope. "City lights, pizza, no curfews, strippers..."

Scott rolled his eyes. "What is it with you and strippers?"

Moxie's grin was pure mischief. "I like all the stuff people say I'm not supposed to have," she said with a shrug. "But if you're a buzzkill, I guess I can settle for pizza and no curfews."

Cyclops couldn't help but chuckle, despite his better judgment. "Deal," he said, leading her out of the mansion. The cold air hit them like a slap, a stark contrast to the warmth of the school.

Moxie bounced beside him, her eyes wide with excitement as they approached the garage. "Are we taking your motorcycle?"

Cyclops looked down at her, one eyebrow raised. "It's winter. We're borrowing the school's car."

Moxie's face fell, but she shrugged. "Okay... Can I drive?"

Cyclops snorted. "Not a chance. Do you even have a license?"

"Kind of!" She said, eyes bright. "Almost!"

Cyclops sighed. "That means no. Not without proper lessons and supervision."

She grumbled. "Logan lets me drive," she mumbled.

"Well, Logan is... special," Cyclops said, trying not to imagine the chaos that must ensue when she was behind the wheel of a car with him.

Moxie stuck her tongue out at him. "Fine. Spoilsport."

They made their way to the garage, and Cyclops unlocked the school's nondescript sedan. The engine roared to life, and Moxie buckled up with an air of disappointment.

"It's not a Ferrari, but it's reliable," Cyclops said, trying to lighten the mood.

It worked. Her smile reappeared, brightening the car like a neon sign. "I'll take it," she said, leaning back into her seat.

From her backpack, she pulled out a large plush triceratops. "Look, it's my Christmas present from Rictor!" Moxie said, and made the dinosaur wave at Scott. "I named her Albondigas."

"Albondigas? That means meatballs," Scott said, trying to hide his amusement.

Moxie giggled. "It's Rictor's favorite soup!" She clutched the plush toy tightly, and the action made Cyclops' heart ache just a bit. She was so obviously trying to hold on to any semblance of normalcy she could find, and if a giant meatball-themed dinosaur did that for her, so be it.

They drove in a comfortable silence for a while, the hum of the car's engine the only noise in the winter landscape. It was a stark contrast to the chaos of the school, but it was peaceful in a way that neither of them had experienced in a long time.

Moxie fiddled with the radio, scrolling through stations. She grinned when she found a Spanish station, dancing to the Latin music.

"You like this?" Cyclops asked, surprised.

Moxie nodded, beaming. "Reminds me of hanging out with Julio. Did you know he can dance?"

Cyclops glanced at her, one hand on the steering wheel. "Rictor?"

"Yeah," Moxie said, her eyes never leaving the passing scenery. "He's got some moves."

Cyclops raised an eyebrow, picturing the gangly teenager doing a salsa number in the Danger Room. "Really?"

"Yeah." Moxie's smile always became so soft when she talked about Rictor, a light pink blush coloring her cheeks. "He's surprisingly graceful."

Scott grinned. "Your crush is showing," he teased.

Moxie rolled her eyes. "Whatever," she said, but the blush on her cheeks darkened. "He's a good person, you know?"

Cyclops nodded, his eyes on the road. "I do," he said seriously. "He's a good influence on you, too."

Moxie shrugged, looking out the window. "Maybe," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper.

Cyclops studied her profile, the softness of her features in the morning light. He had to admit, she was growing on him. "What do you want to do when we get to the city?" he asked, hoping to keep the conversation going.

Her eyes lit up. "Everything!" she said, turning to him with a grin. "I've never been to New York. I want to see Times Square, Central Park, maybe even take a peek at the Avengers Tower if you know a shortcut."

Cyclops grinned. "Mox, I know Tony Stark himself." He wasn't exactly buddies with the guy, but they had an amicable relationship as part of the greater superhero community. "He's probably busy for the holidays, but if you want a quick video call from one of the Avengers, I could probably arrange it."

Her eyes went comically wide. "You can do that?"

"I might be able to pull some strings," he said, trying to keep a straight face. "But only if you behave."

"Could... Could you get me a call from Scarlet Witch?" Moxie gasped, looking positively starstruck.

Cyclops chuckled. "I'll see what I can do," he said, though he was pretty sure Wanda was on a strict 'no calls from unsupervised students' list. Maybe if he explained the situation...

Moxie was practically bouncing in her seat. "Really? Oh my god, oh my God!" She waited until Scott was stopped at a red light to fling her arms around his neck, hugging him breathless.

Cyclops felt the tension ease from his shoulders, her enthusiasm infectious. "Okay, okay," he chuckled, patting her on the back. "But remember the deal. No wild parties, no strippers, and definitely no burning down the apartment."

She laughed, nodding, still hugging him. "I swear I'll love you forever if you get me a call from Wanda."

"Let's not go that far," Cyclops said, his voice muffled by her sweater. He gently disengaged from her embrace, feeling the heat of her cheek against his neck. "But I'll try my best."

The drive to the city was filled with Moxie's chatter about what she wanted to do over the break, peppered with questions about Cyclops' life. He answered as best he could, finding himself opening up to her in ways he never had before. Her curiosity was endearing, and he couldn't help but be drawn into her excitement.

As they pulled into the parking garage of his apartment building, Moxie leaned over the console, peering out the window. "Whoa, this is fancy," she said, her eyes wide.

"It's not the mansion, but it'll do," Cyclops said with a small smile.

Moxie grinned at him. "Bet it doesn't have a secret underground lair," she said.

"Well, it doesn't have a Danger Room, but it does have a decent kitchen," Cyclops said, trying to keep the conversation light as they ascended in the elevator. The truth was, he hadn't given much thought to how he was going to handle Moxie's unpredictability in such a confined space.

His apartment was largely bare. He didn't spend much time home, and sometimes sublet it during the school year, as he stayed in the mansion. The truth was, he'd been too depressed after his breakup with Jean to care about decorating, and the place had a cold, unlived-in feel to it.

He felt a bit self conscious now as Moxie looked around the entryway, her eyes taking in the sparse furniture and minimalist decor. "It's... very clean," she said, her voice filled with a hint of doubt.

Her eyes flicked to a terrarium, and she gasped excitedly. "Oh, you have a baby!" she scampered close to peek inside. "Is it a lizard, or a snake, or-"

Scott cringed. He should've warned Moxie about Delilah... Guests didn't usually respond well to the giant tarantula. He expected Moxie to shriek, but instead she gasped, looking in.

"Oh, hi, baby!" she cooed to the arachnid. "Oh, you're beautiful! Hi!"

Cyclops blinked, surprised. "You're not... Afraid?"

Moxie whirled on him. "Why would I be scared of such a pretty girl?!" She returned her gaze to the terrarium. "You've got such sweet little feet!" she gasped. "Look at those pretty stripes on your legs!"

Delilah, the giant tarantula, seemed to be eyeing Moxie with as much interest as she was eyeing her. Cyclops watched the scene, his mind racing. The last person who had called Delilah 'beautiful' was Jean, and that was with a significant amount of sarcasm.

"Can I hold her, Mr. Summers?" Moxie pleaded. "I promise, promise, promise I'll be gentle. Cross my heart!"

Cyclops stared at her, his mind still trying to process her reaction to Delilah. He'd never seen anyone approach his pet tarantula with such affection. "I...I suppose so," he said, hesitating. "But be careful. She doesn't like to be handled too much."

Moxie's face lit up, and she took the spider in her hands with surprising gentleness. Delilah seemed to sense Moxie's calm demeanor and remained still, allowing the girl to admire her. Cyclops watched, his apprehension slowly giving way to fascination. He'd had Delilah since his days with the X-Men, and she'd always been a solitary creature. The sight of Moxie bonding with her was...unexpected.

Slowly, Delilah climbed her way up Moxie's Christmas sweater. Moxie giggled, holding very still. "Your little feet tickle, pretty girl," she whispered.

Scott couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. He'd never seen anyone interact with Delilah like that, let alone be so thrilled about it. "How did you... I mean, you don't usually see people, especially kids, so...comfortable with spiders."

Moxie shrugged one shoulder, smiling as Delilah curiously touched Moxie's hair, perhaps wondering why this 'web' was so red and long. "People think snakes and spiders and stuff are evil, or whatever, but they're not. They're just born that way. They just want to survive, too, right?"

Her words hit Scott like a ton of bricks, reminding him of their own mutant kind and the prejudices they faced. He nodded slowly. "I guess so."

Moxie looked up at him, her eyes shining with sincerity. "I know so," she said. "They're like us, you know?"

Delilah tapped Moxie's chin with a curious little foot. Moxie's giggles filled the apartment, and Scott felt his heart warm a fraction more. "Alright, alright, I guess we're friends now," she whispered to the spider, and gently placed her back into her terrarium.

"Come on," Scott said, trying to shake off the moment of unexpected tenderness. "Let's get you settled. You can have the couch, and I'll grab some extra blankets."

Moxie placed Albondigas on the couch, wandering around the rest of the apartment. It was so empty that her footsteps echoed.

"Mr. Summers?" she asked quietly. "I... I don't mean to be rude. But why is it so empty? Did you just move in?"

Her question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken understanding. Cyclops took a deep breath, bracing himself for the wave of sadness that always followed that question. "No, it's been like this for a while," he admitted. "After... After Jean and I split up, I just didn't have the heart to fix it up. It's just me and Delilah here."

Moxie startled. "You and... Ms. Grey?"

Had Moxie not even known they were a couple? It felt like everyone knew. For many years, the pair had been considered the X-Men's iconic couple. He felt a pang of sadness, but he pushed it aside. That chapter of his life was over, and it was time to move on. "Yes, me and Jean," he said, his voice carefully neutral. "But that was a long time ago."

"Oh," Moxie said softly. If he'd expected her to be rude or nosey, he was again surprised. "That sucks," she said instead, with sincerity.

He nodded. "It was for the best," he said, trying to sound convincing.

Moxie's tail twitched. "Do you want me to pour salt in her coffee after Christmas break?" she offered. "I can totally do that."

Scott chuckled despite himself. "Let's not go that far," he said, though the idea of someone standing up to Jean Grey had a certain appeal. "But thanks for the thought."

Moxie shrugged. "Well, if you need help breaking things, I'm your girl," she said with a wink.

The mention of Jean brought back a rush of memories, but Scott forced himself to focus on the present. "I'll keep that in mind," he said with a small smile, leading her to the couch. "Now, let's talk rules."

"Ugh," Moxie groaned. She glanced at Delilah. "Is he always this bossy?" she asked the spider, who seemed to ignore them both.

Cyclops rolled his eyes. "Only when I need to be," he said. "Look, Moxie, we need to lay some ground rules for your stay. I know you're used to doing your own thing, but my place, my rules."

"Fine," Moxie flopped onto the sofa, her tail swishing. "What's the deal, Mr. Summers?"

Scott sat opposite her, his posture serious. "First, no sneaking out. No lying to me."

"I've never lied to you!" She huffed, looking genuinely affronted.

Scott stopped to consider. Now that he thought about it, she hadn't lied to him outright. Her actions were another story, but she did have a way of speaking her mind without deceit. "Okay," he said. "No hiding things from me, then."

Moxie nodded solemnly. "No hiding," she promised. "But what about pranking?"

Cyclops sighed. "Keep the pranks to a minimum and nothing that could cause damage or harm to anyone."

Moxie pouted but nodded. "Fine. No pranks that'll get us kicked out."

"Good," Scott said. "Second, no bringing anyone over without my permission."

"Can I bring Rictor over?" she asked immediately.

Scott considered. Did he really want two horny teenagers in his apartment? "Look, I know you two are close, but try to keep the... uh, physical stuff to a minimum."

Moxie looked confused for a moment, and then she reddened, looking away. "We, uh..." She stammered. "Haven't. Done that stuff. Just kisses."

Cyclops felt his own face heat up. "I didn't mean..." He took a deep breath. "Just be respectful of the space, okay?"

Moxie nodded, looking down at her hands. "We will," she mumbled.

Cyclops cleared his throat. "Alright, last rule for now. No using your powers without supervision. I know you're getting better, but accidents happen."

"Can I transform?" she asked.

He considered. She didn't seem to have any problem switching to her fox form and back. And she liked being a fox, he knew. She seemed to be comfortable in that skin. "Okay," he said after a moment's thought. "But only if it's safe, and you're not going to startle anyone. The neighbors are...particular."

Moxie's eyes lit up, and she transformed in a burst of light and energy, shrinking into a vibrant red fox, her tail wagging happily. She jumped onto the couch, and Cyclops couldn't help but chuckle. "I guess that's a yes," he said.

She bounced over to him on light paws, snuffling at him with a cold black nose. He couldn't resist the urge to stroke down her back, appreciating the thickness of her fur. Despite her size and shape, she didn't feel much like a dog or cat.

"Alright," he said, his voice softer now. "You said you wanted to try the local pizza. How about I order us some?"

Moxie's eyes lit up in the fox form, and she nodded vigorously. "Pizza is life!" she exclaimed.

Cyclops chuckled. "Alright, I'll order something without peppers," he said, standing up. "You don't like peppers."

She cocked her head. "I'm surprised you knew that," she said, her voice high and childlike.

"It's part of the job," he said, smiling despite himself. "Now, what toppings do you want?"

Moxie transformed back into her human form with a pop, her eyes wide with excitement. "Cheese, please, and maybe pepperoni?"

"Cheese and pepperoni it is," Cyclops said, heading into the kitchen to grab his phone. He could see the excitement in Moxie's eyes, and it brought him a strange comfort to be able to give her this simple pleasure. He hadn't had anyone to take care of in a while, and the responsibility was a welcome distraction from his own troubles.

As he called the local pizzeria, Moxie padded after him, her fox form's tail wagging with anticipation. "Thank you, Mr. Summers," she said, her voice still a little squeaky from the transformation.

"You're welcome," he said, his own smile growing. It was weird, but he enjoyed taking care of her. It was a feeling he hadn't experienced since he'd been a teenager.

She asked for the bathroom, and he directed her down the hall, but she opened the wrong door and found herself in his bedroom, instead. It was neat, almost eerily so. The bed was made with military precision, and there were no personal touches to be seen. It was like walking into a five-star hotel room.

Well, almost no personal touches. Moxie's eyes went to a framed photo of a boy with sandy blond hair. She leaned in, studying it. The boy was young and handsome. He had Mr. Summer's jaw and cheekbones.

"Who's he?" She asked brightly, when Scott filled the doorway behind her. "He's cute."

Scott felt his chest tighten. "That's my brother, Alex," he said, his voice a little rough. He stepped closer to her, gently taking the frame from her hands and placing it back on the dresser. "Let's get you to the bathroom," he said, trying to redirect the conversation.

"Oh," Moxie said, sensing Scott's discomfort. "Did I do something bad?" her tail drooped.

Cyclops took a deep breath. "No, it's just...complicated," he said. "Let's just get you that pizza."

Moxie nodded, following him back into the living room. He couldn't help but feel a sense of relief that she didn't pry further. He didn't want to go into the mess that was his family history right now, especially with her.

"Can we watch Christmas movies?" Moxie asked, reaching for the remote.

Scott nodded. "Sure, what's your favorite?"

"I've never actually seen one!" she admitted. "So... I don't know. What's yours?"

Cyclops thought for a moment. "How about 'It's a Wonderful Life'?"

"Okay," she agreed easily, typing the title into the search bar and hitting play. The classic movie began to unfold before them, and Moxie snuggled under a blanket, her eyes glued to the screen as she munched on a piece of pizza.

Cyclops sat on the armchair next to the couch, watching her more than the film. She was so absorbed in the story, her expression a mix of wonder and curiosity. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen someone discover a holiday classic for the first time. It was refreshing, like a gust of cold winter air that swept away the dust of his own melancholic thoughts.

She must've been sleepy, though. Before long, she was dozing off, slumping where she sat, her plate lax on her lap.

Scott took the plate from her, setting it aside gently. She didn't wake up, so he figured she was out like a light. He picked her up, feeling her warmth against him. It was strange, holding her like this. It felt almost...comfortable.

He carried her to the couch, tucking the blankets around her. Delilah scurried over from her terrarium, as if checking to make sure her new friend was okay.

"You too, huh?" Scott chuckled, watching the spider crawl up onto Moxie's sweater. He'd never seen Delilah take to anyone so quickly.

Moxie stirred slightly in her sleep, her tail slipping out from under the blanket. She'd changed back into human form, and Scott took a moment to appreciate the peacefulness of the scene. The TV flickered with the black-and-white movie, and the only sounds were the occasional car driving by and Moxie's soft, even breaths.

She looked sweet when she slept, a contrast to her usual snark and bravado. Cyclops felt an unfamiliar tug of protectiveness.

He watched the rest of the movie by himself, then switched the TV off. He gently removed Delilah from Moxie and set her back in her terrarium for the night, closing the lid. "Night, girls," he whispered, and retired to his bedroom.

The next few days were filled with quiet moments like these, moments that Scott had almost forgotten existed outside of Xavier's School. They'd go out during the day to explore the city, with Moxie's excitement for every new place and person they saw making him feel almost as if he were experiencing New York for the first time too. They'd come back to the apartment, exhausted but happy, and he'd cook simple meals that she'd devour with enthusiasm, sharing tales of her day and asking him questions about his past that made him feel...less alone.

He'd almost forgotten about Xavier's warnings regarding Moxie's nightmares until the night of Christmas eve. He was sleeping soundly, curled on his side, when Moxie's screams jolted him awake.

"Jesus!" he gasped, his heart pounding. She sounded like she was being murdered in there.

He raced to the living room and found her scrunched into a ball, her face soaked in tears, screaming into her pillow. She thrashed, her legs kicking out, and for a moment, Scott wasn't sure if it was a seizure or a nightmare. Then she said a name, and he realized it was definitely a nightmare.

"Mama," she sobbed. "Mama, make him stop!"

Cyclops felt his gut twist. He'd heard about these nightmares from Professor Xavier, but nothing could've prepared him for the raw terror in her voice. He approached the couch cautiously, not wanting to startle her. He gently sat down beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Moxie, wake up," he murmured. "You're safe. It's just a dream."

Her screams grew louder, and she threw off the blankets. Cyclops didn't know what to do. He didn't want to scare her more by grabbing her, so he talked softly, his hand hovering just above her shaking shoulder.

"Come here, sweetheart," he breathed, unconsciously using the words he'd once used to comfort Jean. He slid closer and wrapped an arm around Moxie's shaking form, pulling her against his chest. Her body was tense as a bowstring, her sobs muffled in the pillow. "You're safe, you're with me."

Moxie's eyes snapped open, staring wildly around the darkened room before finally settling on him. For a moment, she looked lost and terrified, and then she collapsed against him, her body going limp with relief. "Mr. Summers," she whispered, her voice cracking.

"It's okay," he said, stroking her hair. "You're safe here."

She buried her face in his chest, clinging to his tank top like she was afraid he might disappear. Cyclops felt the wetness of her tears seep through the fabric, and his heart clenched. He held her tightly, her tremors gradually subsiding as she took in deep, shuddering breaths. It was several minutes before she finally spoke.

"Sorry," she whispered hoarsely. "Sorry I woke you."

"Don't be," he said, his voice gentle. "It's okay. Do you want to talk about it?"

Moxie hesitated.

Scott sat back on the sofa, gathering her closer. Rubbing her back. "It might help," he offered. He sure as hell wasn't falling back asleep any time soon; his adrenaline had spiked at the sound of her screams.

Moxie considered for a long time, then spoke.

"When Xavier found me, I was in a hospital," she whispered. "He... He keeps track of mutant kids who keep getting shuffled around to different hospitals, you know? My parents brought me to a bunch of different ones all the time, so the doctors wouldn't start to wonder why I was getting hurt so often."

Scott's heart sank, but he nodded. Xavier did indeed do that; he kept an eye out for any red flags regarding mutant children and abusive situations. It was part of the Professor's crusade to save them from lives of fear and pain.

"I, uh. I tried to kill myself," Moxie admitted. "When I was in the hospital. Xavier found me hanging from the ceiling."

The words hit Scott like a sucker punch, stealing his breath. "Moxie..." he whispered.

"I don't remember it," Moxie explained. "Xavier took that memory away. And my other two suicide attempts- he took those memories away, too. He took away most of my memories, because I couldn't handle them. I couldn't live with them anymore."

Scott felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead. He hadn't realized the extent of her trauma. "Moxie," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "I had no idea."

"It's okay," Moxie reassured, stroking his cheek as though she was the one comforting him. "I didn't want anyone to know. It's just between me and Xavier."

Cyclops nodded, feeling a sudden weight in his chest. The thought of this vibrant young girl trying to end her life was almost unbearable. "What... What happened, though?" He asked. "Why were you in the hospital? Why did you... Want to hurt yourself?"

Moxie went quiet as she pieced her thoughts together. She took a few deep breaths. "You sure you wanna know?" she asked.

"I'm here for you, Moxie," Scott said, his voice strong and reassuring. "You can tell me."

"Okay, uh." Moxie took a deep breath. "So. My parents... Struggled with money a lot. And they gave me a job, when I was little. So I could contribute to the house, you know?"

Scott's grip on her tightened. "What kind of job?"

"Um..." Moxie swallowed. "So. Mom would bring guys home. Guys who... Paid to spend time with me. I'd go into her room with those guys and... And. Take care of them. It was my job, you know?"

The words hung in the air, thick and painful. Cyclops felt sick. He hadn't expected that. "Jesus, Moxie..." He breathed out. "How... How old were you?"

Moxie cringes. "I don't remember," she whispers. "Xavier thinks it started when I was three or four?"

Cyclops' jaw tightens, and he feels his grip on her tighten too. "And you had to...?"

"Uh. Have sex. With the guys." Moxie laughed nervously. "I didn't know it was sex, obviously. I just knew I was supposed to do what they said. And I had to do it to make Mama and Papa proud."

The room felt suffocatingly hot, and Scott felt the rage boil in his veins. "Moxie, I'm so sorry," he said, his voice tight. "That's not your fault. You're so young. You didn't know any better."

Moxie sighed. "I guess when I was in the hospital that day... I guess it was cuz one of the clients hurt me bad. He beat me up. And I realized it was never gonna stop. And that's why I wanted to die."

Cyclops's heart broke into a million pieces. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to do. All he knew was that he needed to be there for her. To help her feel safe, because she hadn't had that in so long.

"Xavier didn't want to take my memories away. He says it's a last resort thing, because losing memories can mess your brain up even more," Moxie continued, her voice muffled against his chest. "But the third time I tried to kill myself, he realized his options were either to remove them, or watch me die."

Cyclops's mind reeled. Three times. This girl had tried to end her life three times. He pulled her closer, his heart aching for the pain she'd suffered.

"Your parents were arrested," he prompted. "Was that Xavier's doing, too?"

She nodded. "It's... Still ongoing. Legal stuff takes forever, you know."

Scott did know. The legal system was a slow, grinding beast that often forgot about the lives it was supposed to protect.

Suddenly, many things made sense. Xavier's refusal to expel Moxie; his insistence that she needed them. Her lack of fear towards danger, her reckless behavior, and her desperate need for love and acceptance. It all pointed to a deep-rooted pain that no one should have to bear, especially not a child.

"I, uh, I did some dumb stuff," she admitted. "So dumb that Xavier couldn't let me come to school right away. I lived at his summer home for almost a year before he let me come to the mansion."

Scott's eyes narrowed. "What kind of stuff?"

"Um..." Moxie's tail twitched. "I tried to do sex stuff with Xavier a few times. I know it sounds bad, but that's what I was taught. That's how you get love, right?"

At the horrified look on Scott's face, Moxie quickly clarified. "He didn't let me! He stopped me every time. He was really patient when he helped me learn not to do that. But... But now you get why I couldn't come to school right away. I was constantly trying to take my clothes off, and stuff."

Scott nodded, his face a mask of calmness he didn't feel. He couldn't imagine what it was like for her, to have been taught such a twisted view of affection and love. He didn't know what to say, but he knew he needed to respond. "Moxie, I'm not judging you. You did what you had to survive. You're incredibly brave and strong to have made it through that. And to have learned what's right and wrong."

He remembered suddenly what she'd said about Rictor- how flustered she'd gotten when Cyclops had implied the two were physically intimate. 'Just kisses,' she had insisted.

Kisses were probably all she felt comfortable sharing with Rictor. Any further intimacy would likely trigger memories she wasn't ready to face. Cyclops felt his throat tighten, his heart swelling with compassion for the girl in his arms.

"But it's not just that," Moxie mumbled into his shirt. "I had these...these moments. These moments where I just didn't care anymore. And I'd try again. But Xavier... He'd always be there. Talking me down."

Scott felt a lump form in his throat. The idea of Professor Xavier being that rock for her, that beacon of hope and guidance, made him realize just how much the man had been holding on to. It was a heavy burden to bear, keeping the darkness at bay for someone so young and lost.

"He's a good man," Scott murmured, stroking her hair. "He's trying to give you a good life."

Moxie nodded, her eyes welling up with tears. "I know," she said, her voice small and sad. "I love him a lot. He's the first person who's ever been nice to me, you know?"

Scott's chest tightened. "I'm sorry you had to go through that, Moxie," he said, his voice gruff with emotion. "You deserve so much better."

Moxie wiped at her eyes. "I'm still not... Great," she admitted. "My instincts keep telling me I need to kiss you so you won't hurt me. Obviously my brain knows that's bad- but it's hard to get past what you've always been taught to do, you know?"

Scott nodded solemnly. "I understand," he said, his voice gentle. "And you don't ever have to do anything you don't want to, okay? Not here, not with me, not with anyone."

Moxie looked up at him, her eyes searching his. "Thank you," she whispered. "I just want to be normal."

Scott sighed heavily, his gaze drifting down to her tear-stained cheeks. "You are normal," he said firmly. "You're just... You've been through so much more than anyone should have to handle, but that doesn't define you."

Moxie leaned into his embrace, her eyes closing. "Thank you," she said, her voice muffled by his chest.

He held her, rubbing slowly over her back, until she was at last able to drift into a peaceful sleep, her breathing evening out and her body relaxing. The room remained quiet, the only sound being the distant hum of the city outside. Cyclops didn't dare move, not wanting to disturb her. He had so much to think about, so many things he wanted to do to help her, but he knew the most important thing right now was just to be there.

So he remained, Moxie in his lap, the rise and fall of her chest a comforting rhythm that assured him she was okay. Delilah had ventured out of her terrarium again, her eight legs delicately feeling their way across the floor to reach the couch. She climbed up and sat on the armrest, her eyes on Moxie, as if watching over her too.

Scott gave Delilah a gentle smile, offering a finger to pet her. She hesitated, then inched towards his hand. He stroked her furry back, and she remained still, seemingly understanding the gravity of the situation. It was a silent alliance, an unspoken agreement that they would both watch over Moxie together.

The clock ticked over to midnight, and Christmas was officially here. Cyclops looked down at the sleeping girl in his arms. Her breaths were slow and even, and for the first time since her nightmares had begun, she looked peaceful. He couldn't help but think of the innocence that had been stolen from her, and the burden she carried each day.

Eventually Scott drifted off, too, too tired to remain awake. He slept for a few hours, until the morning sun shining through the blinds made Moxie mumble and shift against his chest.

Her eyes fluttered open and she stared at him for a moment, blinking. Then she realized where she was and who was holding her, and her cheeks flushed. She tried to sit up quickly, but Scott's arms kept her in place.

"It's okay," he said, his voice groggy. "It's fine."

He laid back on the couch, and her blush grew, but she arranged herself on his chest, tucking her face in his neck.

Moxie's breath was warm against his skin, and Cyclops felt a strange sense of peace in the early morning light. It was the kind of quiet moment that was rare in his life, a moment where he could just be.

"Merry Christmas, Mr. Summers," she whispered. And, to the spider on the armrest, "merry Christmas, Delilah."

Scott's eyes grew heavy again, and he realized that for the first time in a long time, he actually felt a sense of festive warmth. "Merry Christmas, Moxie," he murmured, his eyes closing.

They napped most of the morning away. When they at last got up, Moxie went to take a shower, and Scott took the opportunity to make a pot of coffee. He leaned against the kitchen counter, his eyes on the door, listening to the water run. It was strange, this newfound responsibility, but he found he liked it. He liked taking care of her, making her feel safe and loved, even if it was just for this short break from school.

She emerged twenty minutes later, dressed like Mrs. Claus. Her usual bright smile was in place. She held two wrapped packages; a large one for Scott, and a tiny one for Delilah.

Scott took his gift with a mix of surprise and confusion. "What's this?" He asked, holding it in both hands.

"A Christmas present, you goof!" She wiggled her feet so the bells on her slippers jingled. "I got it when we went to Times Square. It's not much, but I wanted to get you something."

Cyclops stared at the present, his heart swelling with warmth. It was the first time someone had given him a present in years. The last Christmas he remembered being happy was with Jean. He swallowed the lump in his throat. "Thank you, Moxie," he said, his voice gruff with emotion. "You didn't have to do that."

Moxie shrugged, her eyes bright. "Everyone deserves a little something nice on Christmas," she said. "Even grumpy teachers who give too much homework."

Scott chuckled, feeling the tension of the night before slipping away. He set the coffee mug down and took the small package from her. "You got one for Delilah?" He teased.

"I did!" Moxie's eyes brightened. She put the present on the armrest in front of Delilah, unwrapping it for her. Inside was a new hide for her terrarium, designed to look like a hollow log.

Delilah's legs quivered with excitement as Moxie placed it inside, and she quickly scurried into the new hiding place. Moxie giggled.

"Well, she seems to like it," Scott said, trying to keep the surprise out of his voice. He hadn't expected her to think of his tarantula.

Moxie beamed at him. "I figured she needed a nice Christmas present too. After all, she's part of the family."

Scott couldn't argue with that. The spider had been with him for a long time, and she had grown on him. "You're something else, you know that?" He said, smiling at Moxie.

She beamed. "Open your present!" she insisted excitedly.

Scott took a deep breath, feeling a tug at his heart. It had been so long since someone had looked at him with such pure excitement for a simple act like giving a gift. He carefully peeled back the wrapping paper, revealing a leather-bound journal with his name embossed on the cover.

Moxie watched him, her eyes wide with anticipation. "It's not much," she said. "But I thought, you know, with everything you've been through, it's important to write down your thoughts. Like Professor Xavier says, it helps keep the darkness away."

Cyclops's smile grew as he took in the beautiful craftsmanship of the journal. It was a thoughtful and personal gift. "Moxie, this is... It's perfect," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Thank you."

Moxie nodded eagerly, her tail wagging. "You're welcome," she said, a hint of shyness in her voice. "I hope you like it."

A knock on their door startled them both. "Let me in, mi vida!" Called a familiar voice.

Moxie's eyes widened. "Is that... Rictor?"

"Yeah," Cyclops confirmed with a nod, setting the journal down and rising from the couch. He walked over to the door, his movements swift and silent despite his size. He checked the peephole before unlocking it. "You're up early," he said, opening the door.

"I had to come see my beautiful girl on Christmas!" Rictor exclaimed, pushing the door open with a wide grin, revealing his own festive attire. He wore a flashy holiday sweater, covered in colorful lights that twinkled with each movement. His eyes fell on Moxie, sitting on the couch, and his smile grew even wider.

With a squeal, Moxie hopped to her feet. She ran to Rictor, and he gathered her up, spinning. He held her off her feet and nuzzled his nose against hers, beaming.

"Merry Christmas, Mox," Rictor said, his eyes sparkling with joy. "I couldn't spend the day without you."

With the softest look in her eyes, Moxie pressed a kiss to Rictor's mouth.

Scott felt his heart skip a beat, watching them. The innocence in her affection was stark, a stark contrast to the horrors she had shared with him last night. It was a gentle reminder that she was still a teenager, trying to find her way in a world that had dealt her a heavy hand.

Rictor set Moxie back on her feet, kissing her nose; then her cheek and forehead. Moxie giggled, then grabbed him by the hand, showing him around the apartment. She showed him the decorations she and Scott had put up; then she introduced him to Delilah.

"Wow, she's... big," Rictor said, eyeing the tarantula.

Moxie giggled. "Don't worry, she's friendly," she assured him.

Rictor pulled Moxie into another hug. "I can't stay long," he said apologetically. "My cousin's in the parking garage. He's driving me to Abuela's house for the family party. But I wanted to see you, first."

Moxie's eyes sparkled. "It's okay," she whispered. "I'm just happy you're here."

Scott watched the exchange with a gentle smile, feeling the tension ease from his shoulders. It was clear Rictor had a positive influence on Moxie, and he was grateful for that. The boy had a good heart, and it was evident that he cared deeply for her.

From her pocket, Moxie handed Rictor a little, wrapped present. "Open it later," she said. "Text me if you like it."

Rictor nodded, tucking it into his pocket. "I'll be sure to." He glanced at Scott. "Merry Christmas, Professor."

Scott nodded back, feeling a bit awkward in his role of chaperone. "You too, Rictor. Be safe, and don't let the family drive you too crazy."

The boy grinned. "I make no promises," he said.

Moxie walked him to the door. He stepped out...

Then ran back, dipping Moxie dramatically in his arms. She squealed, her arms wrapping around him. "Rictor!" She giggled.

He grinned and kissed her deeply.

Moxie's eyes closed, and she melted into the embrace.

Cyclops felt a twinge of something he couldn't quite identify, but he quickly brushed it aside. This was their moment. They had earned their happiness, however brief.

Straightening up, Rictor gave them both a cheeky salute before jogging off to the parking garage.

Moxie slumped against the wall, a dazed and dreamy look on her face. "Wow," she breathed, and touched her lips with shaky fingers.

Cyclops cleared his throat. "Well," he said, turning away to hide his smile. "Looks like you two have something special."

Moxie hugged herself, giggling like a girl in love. Her face was so pink, so happy.

Scott couldn't help but tease her gently, "You might want to tone it down before you start floating away on those love clouds."

Moxie rolled her eyes, but her smile didn't waver. "I know, I know," she said, stepping away from the door. "It's just... He's so sweet, and so nice. And he's got a cute butt."

Scott couldn't hold back a chuckle. "Well, that's definitely important," he said, walking back into the living room. "Did you wanna do anything today? I can make hot chocolate... We can drive around some neighborhoods; look at Christmas lights. Or watch some more Christmas movies... I'm just throwing out ideas."

Moxie looked at him with a hint of sadness. "Can we... Maybe just stay in?" She asked. "I like it here with you and Delilah."

Scott's heart squeezed. "Of course," he said, his voice soft. "Whatever makes you happy."

They ended up spending the day lounging around the apartment, sipping hot chocolate and watching holiday movies. Moxie curled up on one end of the couch with a throw blanket, her legs drawn up under her. Delilah had claimed a spot next to her, enjoying the warmth of her body. Cyclops took the other end, his legs outstretched, watching the TV with a content expression on his face.

Gradually, Moxie and Delilah crept closer. Before Scott knew it, they were both cuddling him again.

Moxie leaned against his chest, her head on his shoulder, her tail curled around his waist. Delilah sat on the armrest, her legs occasionally brushing against his arm. He looked down at the spider, who tilted her head at him, seemingly aware of his gaze.

"My girls," Scott said absently, talking to himself more than anything else. The words slipped out, and for a moment, it was like he had forgotten the gravity of the situation. Moxie looked up at him, her eyes questioning. "What?" she asked, a smile playing on her lips.

Scott chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "Nothing," he said. "Just enjoying the moment."

"You hear that, Delilah?" Moxie asked the spider, grinning. "We're his girls."

Delilah didn't seem to understand, but she leaned into his hand when he reached over to pet her, seemingly enjoying the attention.

The day passed in a comfortable blur of laughter and quiet companionship. Moxie's occasional bursts of excitement at the cheesy movie lines brought smiles to both of their faces. Despite the heaviness of her past, she managed to find joy in the simplest things. It was a stark contrast to his own brooding nature, something he hadn't realized he needed.

As the credits rolled on their fourth holiday film, Scott felt a sense of contentment he hadn't felt in a long time. He looked over at Moxie, her eyes half-closed, her head still on his shoulder, and couldn't help the protective warmth that filled his chest.

He pulled her closer, kissing her scalp. She mumbled sleepily.

They arrived at the school. Scott looked at Moxie's sad face and sighed.

Hoping to cheer her a little, he scooped her out of the seat, carrying her with him.

She startled. "Hey...!"

He only hefted her higher. "Wanna know a secret? The teacher's lounge has a huge couch and TV for movie watching."

Her eyes lit up a bit. "Really?"

"Really," Scott confirmed. "And Xavier's a bit of a movie buff. He has access to pretty much any movie ever made." He walked into the school, his steps steady despite the weight of the situation. "How about we have a movie night? Ice cream, the whole thing."

Moxie sniffled and leaned into him, nodding. "Okay," she said quietly.

They headed upstairs to the teacher's lounge, the quiet of the school pressing in around them. Cyclops could feel the weight of the evening's events sitting heavily on his shoulders.

He tossed Moxie into the enormous couch like a sack of potatoes. She squeaked, then laughed, a little.

"Which movie?" Scott asked, his voice a little too casual.

It was a relief to see a hint of her old mischief. "Hardcore porn," she said. And, at Scott's raised eyebrow, she snickered. "Kidding, Mr. Summers..."

He chuckled. "Thank god," he said, heading over to the entertainment shelf. "I don't think I could handle explaining the birds and the bees to you right now."

She huffed. "I know about 'em!"

"Oh, really?" he teased, picking out a stack of DVDs. "I'm dying to hear your version."

Moxie grinned. "Well... The birds have feathers, and the bees have stingers, right?"

Scott couldn't help but laugh, relieved to see her attempt at humor. "You're something else, you know that?" He picked a couple of movies that he thought she might enjoy—nothing too serious, just light-hearted enough to distract her.

Moxie grabbed a fuzzy blanket off the back of the couch, rolling herself up until she was a fuzzy lump with only her face peeking out. "I'll watch anything," she said, her voice still shaky but the hint of a smile on her face.

Cyclops picked out a couple of movies—nothing with a love storyline, given the night's events—and popped one into the DVD player. He sat down next to her, keeping a careful distance. He didn't want to overstep, but he also didn't want her to feel alone.

Apparently, Moxie had no such compunctions. She wiggled her blanketed self closer to him until she was leaning against his side. She flopped, rather dramatically, her head in his lap. "Love me," she demanded, grabbing for his hand and pulling it to her hair.

Scott sighed, but obligingly started running his fingers through her hair, feeling the tension in her shoulders ease. He didn't miss the way she leaned into the touch, craving comfort and reassurance. "You know I do," he said softly. "But we still have to talk about this, Mox."

"About what?" she sighed. "I learned my lesson, okay?"

He knew she didn't want to talk about it, but he couldn't let it go without making sure she understood the gravity of the situation. "Moxie, you can't just ignore the fact that you could have been hurt tonight. We need to figure out a way for you to get the experiences you want without putting yourself in danger."

She grumbled, nuzzling more firmly against his leg. "More pets," she sighed. "Less lecturing."

Scott couldn't help but smile at her, despite the seriousness of the situation. He complied, his hand moving to her shoulder, rubbing gentle circles into her fur. "Okay," he said. "But promise me you won't do that again."

Moxie sighed, her eyes closing. "Okay," she murmured. "I promise."

She must've been touch-starved as hell, Scott realized. She arched into every touch as he rubbed her shoulders and back. Before long, she was purring, the sound rumbling from somewhere in her chest. Her tail thumped the couch a few times in contentment.

They sat like that for a while, watching the movie but not really paying attention to it. Scott's mind was racing with thoughts of what he should've done differently, how he could've prevented this. The sound of Moxie's purring helped to soothe his frazzled nerves.

Finally, she spoke up. "I know I messed up," she said, her voice small. "But... Can you maybe not tell the Professor? He'll just... He'll lock me down."

Cyclops sighed. "I'll keep it between us, for now," he said. "But you have to promise to be more careful."

Moxie nodded, her eyes still closed. "I will," she murmured, her voice sleepy. "I'm sorry I scared you."

Cyclops felt a pang of guilt. He hadn't considered that she might've been scared for his safety too. "You didn't scare me," he said, his voice gruff. "But you should've talked to me or someone else before you did something so reckless."

She nuzzled deeper into him, her purring growing softer as the movie played on. "Thank you," she whispered. "For everything."

Scott nodded, his hand still moving in soothing circles. "You're welcome," he murmured. "But you really can't sneak out again, okay? If you want to go somewhere, talk to us. We'll figure something out."

She nodded, but he could tell she'd almost fallen asleep. Sure enough, a few minutes later, her breathing evened out, and she was out cold. He should've been mad at her. But all he felt was a deep, protective urge to keep her safe.

Scott picked up the remote and paused the movie. He sat there for a bit longer, stroking her hair. Then, with a sigh, he gently picked her up and carried her back to her room. He didn't bother to wake her; she needed the rest.

As he laid her down, he couldn't help but feel a surge of protectiveness. She was so small, so vulnerable. He knew the Professor had faith in her, but it was hard not to worry. He pulled the covers over her, brushed a strand of hair from her face, and whispered, "I'll keep you safe."

She mumbled sleepily, but didn't wake. Scott watched her for a moment, her features relaxed in sleep. He couldn't shake the image of Oliver's hand on her wrist, the vicious look in his eyes. It was a stark reminder of the dangers lurking beyond the school's gates.

Horrible images kept playing in Scott's mind. Things that might have happened, if he hadn't happened to catch Moxie sneaking out. He saw Moxie bent over a seedy motel counter, crying out as Oliver sold her to some monster for a quick buck. He saw her being forced into a car, her eyes wide with fear and betrayal as she realized her mistake.

He saw her dead in a trunk, her eyes glassy and vacant. A full-bodied shudder ran through him, and he had to force the thoughts away. He couldn't let that happen to her. He wouldn't.

Leaning down, Scott kissed her forehead gently. "Goodnight, Moxie," he whispered, then turned to leave. He had a feeling this wasn't the last time he'd be dealing with her rebellious spirit, but hopefully she'd learned something tonight.

In the weeks that followed, Cyclops kept a closer eye on Moxie, ensuring she was okay and that she hadn't slipped back into her old habits of sneaking out. He noticed a change in her, a newfound respect for the rules, and a sense of caution that hadn't been there before. She was quieter, more introspective, and less eager to push the boundaries. The incident at the gas station had left a mark, one that neither of them could ignore.

The most interesting change, though... Was the softening of her animosity towards Scott. She was still brash and impulsive, but now it was more directed.

She'd let herself into his office while he graded papers and, without so much as a word of hello, grab his arm and move it away from his body. She'd learn back against his chest with a dramatic sigh, closing her eyes. Or she'd watch him grade, or yammer about something, anything.

It was clear she was craving the contact, the reassurance that he was there, that she was safe. And Scott, for his part, found he didn't mind. It was...comforting. To have someone so obviously needing his presence.

That didn't mean he wouldn't give her a hard time. "Make yourself at home," he drawled sarcastically, not looking up from his paperwork.

"Okay, I will," she said with a cheeky smile, nudging his arm with her shoulder. He couldn't help but chuckle at her antics. It was a small price to pay for her safety.

"You're awfully cuddly for a troublemaker," he said, his voice a mix of amusement and concern.

Moxie shrugged, her eyes still closed. "You're awfully soft for a guy who can blow shit up with his eyes," she shot back.

Scott rolled his eyes, but he couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips. Her bluntness had always been part of her charm. "I'm not that soft," he said, but his hand had already moved to her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Yeah, yeah." She got comfortable on his lap, then leaned her head against his shoulder, listening to his heart. "What are you grading today?"

"Just some history papers," he said, his voice a rumble in his chest.

"Did you grade mine already? I better have gotten a smiley-face sticker."

She did, actually, but there was no way he was gonna tell her that.

"You'll find out when everyone else does," Scott said, his tone firm but with a hint of teasing. "Now, behave."

"Nag, nag, nag," she grumbled, but her smile remained. She let him grade in peace for almost a full hour, which was a record.

Eventually, the papers were done and Scott leaned back, stretching out his back. "Alright, troublemaker," he said, setting the papers aside. "What's going on in here today?" he gently tapped her head.

Moxie's eyes fluttered open and she looked at him with a sleepy smile. "Just missed you," she said, nuzzling closer.

"You know you're not supposed to be in here," Scott said, his voice a warning. But he didn't have the heart to push her away.

"Consider it an insurance policy," she yawned. "If I'm in here with you, I'm not causing any chaos."

Scott couldn't argue with that logic. He leaned back in his chair, his arms tightening around her. "Well, you're not wrong," he said. "Let me guess, you want another backrub."

"I just like being touched," she said, yawning some more.

He obliged her, his hands moving in slow, soothing strokes up and down her spine. Moxie's purr grew louder, vibrating through his chest.

"You're the best," she sighed. "Nobody else does it right."

He snorted. "You trying to replace me, kid?"

She nodded, a grin spreading over her face. "Oh yeah. I made everyone fill out job applications for a replacement Cyclops, but nobody else nags or scolds me quite like you do."

"Flattery will get you everywhere," Scott said drily, his hand pausing in its movements. He knew she was pushing his buttons, but he also knew she was just trying to lighten the mood. "So, what's the plan tonight? You got any more secret rendezvous you forgot to mention?"

"Oh, totally." She nuzzled into his neck. "Gonna sneak out to a kegger, then an orgy. And to top the evening off, I thought I'd become a madame at a bordello."

Scott's hand paused mid-stroke. "Moxie..."

She peeked at him with a grin, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Kidding," she said quickly, when she saw the look on his face. "I promise. No more sneaking out."

"Good," Scott said, his voice firm. But he couldn't help but chuckle a little at her audacity. "Because if I catch you again..."

"You'll what?" she huffed. "Tattle to Xavier again? He told me you kept trying to get me kicked out."

Scott raised an eyebrow. "Tried, Moxie. And it's Professor Xavier, remember?"

"He wouldn't anyway." Moxie rolled Scott's pencil around on his desk. "He... Feels bad for me. Because my parents are shitty. So he won't kick me out, even if I deserve it." She didn't sound smug, though. She sounded sad.

Scott's hand paused on her back. "Shitty, huh?" he spoke carefully, not wanting to push too much.

She nodded, her eyes only on the desk. "Yeah. He's... Working with a lawyer for me. Something about emancipation."

Scott's hand stilled. "What?"

Moxie said nothing. She just kept looking at his desk, at the pencil. When he cocked his head to see her face better, he saw the tears in her eyes.

"Mox," he said, his voice gentle. "Look at me."

Moxie took a deep breath, and her eyes met his. They were filled with a sadness that Scott hadn't seen in her before. It was as if the events of that night had peeled back a layer of her tough exterior, revealing a vulnerability that made him want to wrap her in a protective cocoon.

"If it helps, I don't remember most of it," Moxie said. "Xavier repressed my memories cuz... Cuz I kept trying to hurt myself. Every week he opens a new memory and we... Talk about it. He says one day I'll be strong enough to remember it all."

Scott's heart squeezed in his chest. He knew she had a rough background, but this was a side of her he'd never seen before. "What kind of stuff, Mox?" He whispered.

But Moxie shook her head, pushing her face in his neck. "You can ask Xavier," she said. "Tell him he has my permission to tell you. But I don't wanna talk about it."

Scott sighed, his arms tightening around her. "Okay," he murmured. Part of him wondered what so many repressed memories might do to a person. Could it cause them to behave recklessly, because they didn't have access to memories of consequences? Or was it the opposite? Did she act out because she felt so trapped by them?

But if Xavier believed it was necessary... If Moxie had so much trauma that she was genuinely trying to harm herself...

"A lot of it happened when I was really little," Moxie explained. "Xavier says I was too little to cope. It's just... Better to remember it in bits, I guess." Her voice was muffled against his shirt, and Scott felt her shoulders tremble with the effort of speaking. He hated that she had to go through this, but knew that pushing her would only cause more pain.

Scott's mind whirled. What could happen to a little kid that would be so bad they'd have to wipe their memories away? None of the ideas he thought of were good ones.

"You're shaking," he whispered, stroking her back again. "It's okay."

She rested against him. "More pets?" She asked hopefully, nudging his hand onto her back.

Scott sighed, but his hand obeyed. "You're shedding all over me," he sighed, noticing the red fur from her tail sticking to his pants.

She grinned. "It's very fashionable. Eau de Moxie."

Scott couldn't help but chuckle, despite the gravity of the conversation. "You're something else," he murmured, his hand moving in soothing circles.

He held and spoiled her until she was sleepy, then watched her go off to her room.

The next day, when he went to Xavier's office, he hesitantly sat before the older man's desk.

"Moxie..." He started. "Moxie said I could ask you about her memories. The ones you repressed."

Professor Xavier's expression grew solemn as he steepled his fingers. "Ah, yes. It's a delicate matter, Cyclops." He took a deep breath. "Her past is... troubling. Are you sure it's something you want to know about?"

Scott nodded firmly. "If it'll help me understand her, I need to know."

Xavier studied her for a long moment. "Sex trafficking," he finally said, quiet and solemn. "Moxie's parents charged certain men to take Moxie into their room and... Well. You can imagine. This began when she was a toddler and continued until she turned eleven."

Scott felt his stomach drop, his hand clenching into a fist on his knee. "Why?" he breathed. "Why would anyone do that to their own child?"

"Money," Charles replied. His voice gave nothing away, but his eyes held a deep sadness. "Their debts grew too large, and they saw her as a way out. Certain 'clients' will pay a pretty penny for an hour or so with a mutant girl. Her parents told her it was her job; her way to contribute to the family."

Scott felt sick. "And she doesn't remember it all?"

Charles sighed again. "She attempted suicide three times when I first met her, Scott. She was breaking underneath the trauma, and she had no one to turn to. I had to lock those memories away to save her sanity."

Scott felt his blood boil at the thought of anyone hurting Moxie. "What's being done about her parents?" He clenched his fists, his mind racing with images of vengeance.

Professor Xavier's gaze was calm, his voice measured. "Legal proceedings are underway. We're working to ensure she's never returned to them."

Scott nodded, his jaw clenched. "Good."

Charles nodded. "Every week or so, I meet with her. I ask if she's ready for another memory. If she is, I first describe the contents to her, and we discuss it before I release it. It's a slow process, but  I believe it's a necessary one."

"I understand," Scott said, his jaw still tense. "But what about now? She's pushing boundaries, sneaking out... Is that because of these memories?"

Professor Xavier nodded. "It's a way for her to assert control, to regain some semblance of power over her own life. But it's also a cry for help. She's looking for the same attention and affection she was denied for so long. It's a delicate balance, one we're all trying to help her navigate."

Charles hesitated. "And I'm trying to put this delicately, but children who were sexually abused sometimes behave inappropriately towards the people they trust. They don't fully understand why, but they're trying to recreate what they were taught is love."

Scott felt like he'd been punched in the gut. "Jesus," he breathed. "Is that what... Is that why she's always...?" He trailed off, not sure how to finish the question.

"Clinging to you?" Professor Xavier supplied. "It's possible. You're a constant presence in her life, a figure of authority who actually cares about her. It's natural she'd seek comfort in that."

Scott nodded, his throat tight. He didn't know what to say to that. "I just want her to be safe," he murmured.

"As do we all," Xavier said. "But she's going to need more than just that, Scott. She's going to need people she can trust, people who can be patient and understanding as she works through this."

Scott nodded, his mind racing with everything he'd just heard. It was a lot to take in, but he knew he had to be there for Moxie. He had to be that person for her. "What can I do to help?"

Professor Xavier leaned back in his chair. "Be there for her," he said simply. "Let her know she can trust you. Be patient, but firm. But Scott... If her behavior towards you turns sexual, you have to draw a line. You can't let her regress into those patterns."

Scott felt a cold knot form in his stomach. "I would never- she would never..." Sure, she was cuddly and clingy, but nothing about it had ever seemed sexual.

Xavier's gaze was understanding. "She's made sexual advances towards me," he said, his voice a little sad. "Twice. She'd been taught to believe that she wasn't worthy of love or care unless she provided something in return. It's a common defense mechanism for children in her position."

Scott felt his stomach drop. "What did you do?"

Professor Xavier sighed heavily. "I told her no, of course," he said. "And we talked about it. It's important she understands that love and care don't require transactions. I am hopeful that that was all it took, and she won't repeat the pattern with anyone else, but I need you to be aware of the possibility."

Scott nodded, his stomach in knots. "I'll be careful," he promised. "But... How do I handle it if she does?"

"Gently," Professor Xavier said, his voice firm. "But firmly. It's a fine line, but one that must be drawn. We're working with her on this, and she's made good progress. But it's something she's going to struggle with for a while."

Scott nodded, his mind racing. He had no experience with this kind of thing. He knew it wasn't Moxie's fault, but the thought of navigating those waters was terrifying.

Charles regarded him, sighing again. "Oh, Scott. She's not a bomb about to go off. She's a child with trauma and behavioral issues, but she's still a smart, lovely, funny, creative person. She wouldn't want you to tiptoe around her all the time."

Scott nodded, swallowing hard. "I know," he said. "But I don't want to hurt her, either."

Xavier studied him, then offered a smile. "Frankly, the fact that she gave her permission for you to inquire about her memories shows she trusts you. That's a huge step towards healing... I couldn't be more pleased."

Scott took a deep breath, trying to digest everything. "What happens if she's not ready for a memory?"

"Then we wait until she is," Charles replied. "I don't force them back into her head. This process will likely take years... I'm prepared to work with her for as long as it takes."

"Years?" Scott felt the weight of that word settle in his gut.

"There were many clients. Many cruelties," Charles said sadly. "Even ones from when she was too young to form memories coherently... Some of them are as vague as hands touching her, and fear in her heart."

Scott was surprised to find tears pricking his eyes. He didn't cry easily, but the thought that he shared a world with monsters who would torture a toddler for their own sick amusement was too much.

"Thanks, Professor," he murmured, standing up. He felt overwhelmed, and he knew he had to get out of the room before he broke down in front of Xavier.

"I feel the same," Xavier said softly.

Scott realized, then, the true weight of the Professor's powers. The man had to actually see all of Moxie's memories. Had to hold onto them for her while she learned to live with the horrors of her past. He couldn't imagine the toll that would take.

"Sir," Scott said. "Sir, can I help you? I want to offer any support I can. It can't be good for you, either, to carry that burden."

Professor Xavier's eyes softened. "Thank you, Scott," he said, his voice a bit shakier than usual. "But it's something I need to do. It's part of why I started this school, why we're all here."

Scott nodded, understanding. He knew that Professor Xavier had his own demons to fight, his own battles to win. "I'll be here for her," he promised. "And for you, if you need it. And sir... I'm sorry I was such a dick about kicking her out, not too long ago. I didn't know."

Professor Xavier waved it off. "You had your reasons, Scott. And I certainly won't pretend she's always easy to work with."

Scott couldn't argue with that. Moxie was a handful. But she was his handful, now.

He left Professor Xavier's office feeling a mix of anger, sadness, and determination. He'd always known Moxie had a rough background, but hearing the specifics was like being hit by a truck. He couldn't imagine the pain she must have suffered, and the thought of her going through it alone was unbearable.

That night, he waited in his office as he graded, hoping she'd show up. And when she finally did, fresh from the showers and wearing oversized pajamas, he felt his heart clench in his chest. She looked so small, so vulnerable, standing in the doorway with her hands in her pockets.

He tried to be his usual snarky self. "You gonna stand there all night or come in for a backrub?"

Her mischievous grin made his heart clench.

She scampered up to him, throwing herself into his lap. Snuggling in. Her pajamas were particularly ridiculous tonight, patterned with cartoon pineapples and covered in glitter. He had to fight not to smile.

"Oh, are you grading Rictor's test?" she asked, peeking at his work. "Did he copy off Kitty again?"

Scott chuckled despite himself. "You know, I can't say I'm surprised." He ruffled her hair. "But let me guess, you want a backrub, and you don't even care if I get glitter everywhere."

"Yep!" she beamed, bright and unapologetic.

He rolled his eyes but couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips. "You know you're the only one who gets away with this?"

"It's cuz I'm so dang cute," she quipped, and sighed contentedly as his hands began to move over her shoulders and down her spine. Her tail swished in approval.

Scott couldn't help but laugh, his heart aching. "You're something else, Mox," he said, his voice filled with affection. He had to keep the mood light, for her sake.

She must've been tense tonight, because it took a long time to get her to that soft, purring state that he'd come to associate with her being relaxed. Her muscles were knots under his fingers, tight and painful. But she didn't complain, just leaned into the touch, letting him know that she liked it.

"You're really good at this," she murmured. "You should be a masseuse. I could see you working at a fancy resort; all the rich old ladies would swoon and call you Sweet Cheeks."

Scott couldn't hold back a chuckle at Moxie's teasing. "Sweet Cheeks, huh?" He said, continuing to work on her shoulders. "I'll have to add that to my LinkedIn."

Her giggle was music to his ears, light and carefree. It was moments like these that made him realize just how much she needed this, needed him.

She imagined the scene for him. "Okay, so you're in a little cabana with waiters serving those icy, boozy drinks, and the oldest lady you've ever seen inches up. We'll call her Primrose. And she's like, 'Oh, Sweet Cheeks, come give me a rub down. I've got more money than I know what to do with, but I can't reach my own back.' And you're just like, 'As you wish, Primrose. Just don't tell anyone where you got that nickname from.'"

Scott had to bite his cheek to keep from laughing too loudly. "Okay, okay," he said. "I can see it now. And then Primrose and I fall madly in love, right?"

"Oh, totally," Moxie grinned. "But unfortunately for you, her husband Francisco has mob connections. The two of you have to go on the run together, living off her fortune, while dodging his hitmen."

Scott's chuckles grew louder, the absurdity of the scenario helping to ease the tension. "And what do we do for excitement on our romantic getaway?"

"Nude cruises, mostly," Moxie grinned. "And knitting. Baking. Maybe you'll start a little bed-and-breakfast on the run, just to keep things spicy."

Scott had to laugh. "I can totally see it now. 'Cyclops' Secret Mob Retirement Plan'."

Moxie's eyes danced with amusement. "I'd totally visit," she said. "Bring cash and a fake ID, obviously."

Scott grinned. "You just wanna steal my girl," he teased. "But keep your hands off Primrose; she's my beloved senior citizen."

Moxie giggled, the tension in her body slowly melting away. "Deal," she murmured, her voice already dropping with sleep.

Scott kept up the gentle pressure on her shoulders, enjoying the way her eyes began to droop. He knew she'd need more than this to truly heal, but moments like these felt like small victories.

"How do you do that purr thing, anyway?" He asked.

She yawned, sleepy. "Vocal flaps in my chest," she mumbled. "Xavier did an MRI thing, once. My insides are all weird... I'm not human, inside or out."

He chuckled. "No, you're definitely not," he agreed, stroking her back. "You're something better."

Moxie's eyes grew heavy. "Thanks," she whispered. "Did I ever tell you how much I like mutant biology? Like- like. You know Quicksilver? Did you know his tears are super thick and gooey, to protect his eyes when he's running? I love stuff like that."

Scott nodded, stroking her hair. "Yeah, I know," he murmured. "But Quicksilver's got nothing on your purrs."

Moxie had to giggle. "But his tears actually do something. Purring doesn't really serve any purpose, as far as I know."

"It does," Scott said, his voice a bit softer. "It lets the people around you know you're happy. That's pretty important, I'd say."

Her eyes closed. "You always know the right thing to say," she murmured. "You're the best Cyclops."

He felt his heart swell. "Thanks, Mox," he whispered back. "And you're the best... Mox."

She smiled, her tail swishing back and forth. "Thanks, Cyclops," she said, her voice already thick with sleep.

He knew she was going to drift off soon, so he kept his voice low and soothing. "Want me to carry you to your room?"

She nodded, squeaking a little as she yawned.

Scott carefully lifted her from his lap, her body feeling lighter than he expected. He cradled her against his chest, her head resting on his shoulder. He could feel the steady beat of her heart against his own, and it was surprisingly soothing.

Moxie's eyes remained closed as he carried her down the hall, her purrs turning into soft snores. Her scent was faintly sweet, like honey and something else he couldn't quite place. He took a moment to appreciate the trust she had in him, allowing herself to be vulnerable in his arms. It was a stark contrast to the fiery, rebellious persona she usually wore.

Once in her room, Scott gently laid her on her bed, tucking her in and brushing a strand of hair from her face.

"Can you get Arnold?" she mumbled. "He's in the top drawer."

Scott raised his eyebrow, but peeked into her dresser. He was surprised to find a large plush octopus with a wide, toothy grin staring back at him.

"Moxie," Scott pretended to scold. "What did I say about sneaking boys into your room?"

Movie's giggles filled the room. "Arnold's not a boy," she murmured. "He's my bodyguard."

Scott couldn't help but smile at that. "Ah, so he's your personal security," he teased, pulling out the octopus and placing it next to her on the bed. He gave Arnold's tentacle a formal shake. "You do good work, sir," he told the plush.

Moxie giggled again. "He's got eight arms, so he can keep all the bad guys away," she said sleepily. "Especially the ones with really, really bad breath."

Scott couldn't help but smile at that. "I'm sure he's quite the deterrent," he said, giving Arnold a gentle pat. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Goodnight, Mox. Dream of octopus hugs."

Moxie mumbled sleepily, smiling as she nuzzled his cheek. "Stubble," she noticed, rubbing her cheek against his. "Usually you're all smooth."

Scott chuckled, brushing his cheek against hers. "I had a late night," he said. "Couldn't get to shaving."

"I like it." She nuzzled some more. "Scratchy."

Her words made him smile despite the heaviness in his heart. "I'll keep that in mind," he whispered, stroking her hair.

She kissed his cheek, barely a brush before she was sleeping, her breaths slow and even.

Scott sat in the chair by her bed for a while, watching her. It was moments like these that reminded him of what it was like to have a sibling. The protective instincts, the urge to make her laugh, the way she could get under his skin without even trying. He was her teacher, her mentor, but now, he realized, he was something more.

Her past was a minefield he'd have to navigate carefully. He knew it wasn't going to be easy, but he'd do it for her. He'd be there, no matter what she needed. It was his job, his duty as a member of the X-Men to help her.

He'd offered to help Xavier in any way possible, but it still came as a surprise when, two weeks later, he was called into the man's office.

"Can you help me with something, Scott?" Xavier asked, his eyes reflecting the gravity of the situation.

Scott nodded, his mind racing. "Of course, Professor."

Xavier looked at him, troubled. "I'm meeting with my lawyer and Moxie's parents today," he said. "They have their own lawyer, too. I need someone with me as a witness as we discuss the terms of her emancipation."

Scott felt his stomach drop. "They're fighting it?" He couldn't believe that anyone would fight to keep a child in a dangerous environment.

"Sort of," Charles sighed. "They're incarcerated, but as they're still technically her legal guardians, they're fighting me for custody. It's a... complicated situation. I need someone she trusts to be there, to show the courts that she has a stable support system."

Scott hesitated. "Will Moxie be there?"

Charles shook his head no. "As a minor, she's not required to be present until the final decision," he said, his voice tight. "I think it's better for her mental health if she's not exposed to them until it's absolutely necessary."

Scott nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. "I'll be there," he said firmly. "Whatever you need."

The day of the meeting was tense. Scott had never felt so out of place in his life as he did sitting in that stuffy lawyer's office, surrounded by stern faces and thick legal documents.

Prison guards led her parents in. They guided them to their chairs and then secured their handcuffs to the table. Scott felt his fists clench under the table as he looked at them, trying to reconcile the horrors Moxie had told him with the people sitting before him.

They were younger than he'd expected. Moxie's mother looked Japanese, which explained Moxie's features and surname. Her father had her red hair and high cheekbones. But aside from a few superficial similarities, Scott couldn't see any of Moxie's spirit or warmth in them.

The lawyer began to lay out the terms. The school would cover all her expenses, provide her with a safe place to live, and ensure she had the best education and therapy possible. The catch was that Moxie's parents had to agree to relinquish all legal rights and responsibilities, allowing Professor Xavier to become her legal guardian.

"No," Moxie's father said, and again Scott was surprised- he'd forgotten that Moxie was from West Virginia. Her southern accent had mostly faded. But her father's accent was quite strong. "She's our kid. We're not just handin' her over to some fancy school."

Scott felt his blood boil. He wanted to lean across the table and tell them exactly what kind of people they were, but Professor Xavier's hand on his arm stopped him.

"As I'm sure your lawyer already explained," Charles began, his tone measured, "there are benefits to your cooperation. You will have the opportunity for parole after ten years, not fifteen, should you comply. And your visits with Moxie could be reinstated under strict supervision."

Scott stilled, shooting an alarmed look at Xavier. Moxie would be forced to visit these monsters? No way in hell!

Moxie's mother spoke up, her voice cold and hard. "You think you can just take her away from us?"

Professor Xavier's grip tightened on Scott's arm, a silent warning to remain calm. "Your actions have led us to this point," he replied evenly. "Your neglect and criminal behavior are the reasons she is here."

He looked to his lawyer, who nodded and opened his laptop. "Mr. and Mrs. Tanaka, your daughter recorded a message for you that I think will help with your decision."

He clicked a few times, pulling up the video file. The paused screen showed Moxie sitting in Xavier's office, a piece of paper held in her lap.

Moxie's mother gasped. "Let us see her," she demanded.

Charles's lawyer started the pre-recorded video. Moxie's gold eyes filled the screen as she adjusted the camera, then sat back, reading from the paper.

"Dear Mom and Dad," she began, her voice shaky but determined. "I know you don't understand why I'm here today. But I need you to know that I've made a life for myself. A good one."

Her words hit Scott like a ton of bricks. He knew she'd been through hell, but to hear her voice it out like that, so calm and collected, was a testament to her strength.

"I don't have all of my memories," Moxie continued, "but I'm getting them back over time. And I know... I know it wasn't always bad. Mom, I remember when you used to read me bedtime stories. And Dad, you taught me how to throw a baseball, before...before everything got messed up."

Moxie paused to take a shaky breath, swallowing as she rubbed at her eyes. Her voice was a bit hoarser when she continued.

"But the both of you hurt me so much, in ways I'm probably never going to understand," Moxie's voice grew stronger, yet the sadness remained. "Professor Xavier and the X-Men, they're giving me the chance to grow up without fear, without...without the things that happened before."

Scott glanced at Moxie's parents, trying to read their expressions as they watched their daughter's recorded plea. Her mother's eyes were wet with tears, while her father's gaze remained unyielding, his jaw set firmly.

"Mom and Dad, if you have any love for me at all, I need you to let me go," Moxie's voice grew stronger, the words on the paper trembled in her grasp. "I deserve a chance to live without fear, without...without being used."

Her words hung heavy in the air as the video paused for a beat. The room was silent except for the faint sound of Moxie's sniffles. The lawyer looked up, waiting for a reaction from the parents.

"Moxie," her mother whispered, her eyes never leaving the screen. She tried to reach for her husband's arms, but her cuffed limbs made it impossible. "Pat, maybe she's right. Maybe we-"

Her husband's gaze didn't waver from the screen. "We've made mistakes, but we can make it right," he said, his voice gruff. "We can't just abandon her."

"Mr. Tanaka," Xavier's lawyer interjected. "You sold your daughter repeatedly into sex trafficking. You've burdened her with a lifetime of trauma. The opportunity to make it right is in the form of allowing her to heal and thrive here, without your influence."

Moxie's father's face contorted with anger, but the truth was a knife that couldn't be deflected. "You think we don't care about her?" he spat. "You think we liked what we had to do?"

Scott's fists clenched so tight his knuckles turned white. He wanted to tell this man exactly what he thought of him, but Professor Xavier's grip on his arm was a clear signal to hold back.

Moxie's mother leaned in, her voice pleading. "Pat, please. She's almost grown up. If we ever want a chance at her forgiving us, we need to respect her wish."

The room remained tense, the air thick with unspoken words and the weight of their past actions. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Pat nodded, his voice gruff. "Fine. We'll sign."

Scott let out a sigh of relief that was echoed by Professor Xavier. He hadn't realized how much he'd been holding his breath. The lawyer passed the papers over, and with trembling hands, her parents signed their names, giving Moxie the freedom she deserved.

Once they were gone, the weight of what had just occurred settled heavily on Scott. "Thank you," Professor Xavier murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

The long drive back to the school was filled with silence. Professor Xavier's shoulders were slumped, the weight of the conversation still pressing down on him. Scott felt a mix of anger and sadness, the gravity of what had just transpired leaving him speechless.

When they finally arrived, Scott couldn't help himself; he went searching for Moxie. He found her eventually in the game room, dancing alone on the DDR machine, her body moving with a fluidity that belied her exhaustion. She looked so free, so untouched by the ugliness of the world that had just been laid before her, and his heart swelled with a fierce protectiveness.

He couldn't help himself. He strode to her and wrapped her in his arms, burying his face in his hair.

She squeaked, briefly annoyed at him messing up her score, before she saw the pain on his face. "Mr. Summers?" she asked, her voice filled with concern. "What's wrong?"

He took a deep breath, trying to keep his emotions in check. "They signed the papers," he told her. "You're free, Mox. They can't touch you now."

Moxie went still in his arms, her eyes wide as she stared at him. "Really?" she whispered, her voice filled with hope.

Scott nodded, his eyes squeezed shut for a moment. "Really," he murmured back. "You're safe here. With us."

Moxie leaned into him, her arms tightening around his waist. "Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you for being there."

Scott held her, feeling her warmth and the steady beat of her heart against his chest. "Always," he promised. "You're one of us now."

Moxie pulled back, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. "I'm okay," she said, trying to put on a brave face. "Let's just...let's just get some ice cream."

Scott nodded, understanding that she needed something normal, something sweet to counteract the bitter taste of the day's events. "Ice cream it is," he said, leading her out of the game room and down to the kitchen.

Moxie waited until he was walking in front of her to jump, her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist. "Piggy back!" she exclaimed, laughter bubbling up in her voice.

Scott stumbled back slightly before he could get his balance, his arms automatically going around her legs to hold her steady. "Moxie!" he exclaimed, his voice half-laughing, half-exasperated. "What's gotten into you?"

Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "I just don't want to walk," she said. "I want to be carried by my hero."

Scott rolled his eyes, but he couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips. "Fine," he said, adjusting her weight on his back. "But only because I'm feeling generous."

Moxie giggled, her grip tightening around his neck as he carried her down the hall. He could feel the tension in her body, the way she was holding on to him like a lifeline. Despite her attempt at lightness, the gravity of the day's events was still with her.

In the kitchen, he set her down gently, her legs sliding down his back. "Alright, what's your flavor of choice?" he asked, opening the freezer.

She peeked, her gold eyes bright as she studied the available options.

"Hmm, rocky road," she said, her voice still shaky. "But, wait," she added with a mischievous grin, "you've got to guess it."

Scott chuckled, his eyes scanning the freezer. "Alright," he said, playing along. "If I guess correctly, I win a...a...whisker boop?"

Moxie giggled, her tail swishing. "Whisker boop?" she repeated, her voice light. "That's a terrible prize."

"What do I get if I guess wrong?" he teased.

Moxie pursed her lips in thought. "You have to wear the octopus hat from the drama department for a whole day," she declared.

Scott's eyes widened. "You drive a hard bargain, young lady," he said, though he couldn't help the smirk that played at his lips.

Moxie's smile grew, the first genuine one he'd seen in weeks. "Only the best for you, Cyclops," she quipped, her tail swishing in excitement.

Scott plucked out the rocky road ice cream with a flourish. "Bingo," he said, holding it up triumphantly.

Moxie's eyes lit up. "You're good," she said, her smile wide and genuine. "But you cheated, you peeked!"

"Guilty as charged," Scott said, grinning back at her. He handed her the ice cream and grabbed two spoons. "But I'm not letting you get out of that whisker boop," he added, raising an eyebrow.

Moxie rolled her eyes but leaned into him as they sat at the kitchen counter, sharing the carton. The sweetness of the ice cream mingled with the lingering sadness in the air. As they ate, the tension slowly began to dissipate.

She nuzzled his cheek with a little purr. He almost didn't notice when she stole a marshmallow from his bowl.

"Young lady!" He huffed. "Theft and crimes? In my kitchen?!" He pretended to look around dramatically. "I'll have to report this to the head of security."

Moxie gasped. "You're gonna tell Arnold?"

Scott pretended to be serious for a moment before cracking a smile. "You bet I am," he said, though he didn't miss the way her eyes lit up at the mention of her octopus bodyguard.

They ate in companionable silence for a few minutes before Moxie spoke again, her voice quieter than befitted the lightness of their earlier banter. "What happens now?"

Scott put down his spoon and turned to face her, his expression serious. "Now, we focus on your healing," he said. "You have a safe place here, a family who cares about you. We'll get you the help you need to deal with your past, and together, we'll build a future where you're in control."

Moxie nodded, the weight of his words sinking in. "What about...what about when they get out of jail?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Scott took her hand, giving it a firm squeeze. "We'll deal with that when the time comes," he assured her. "For now, just focus on getting better."

She nodded. "Is it time for the whisker boop?" She asked, trying to keep the mood light.

Scott leaned in, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "Not just yet," he said, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "But maybe after dinner."

She leaned her face into his hand. "You know, I used to hate people touching me at all," Moxie mumbled. "I'd get mad and mean and try to bite them. But... I wasn't really mad. I was just scared."

Scott's heart ached for her. "You don't have to be scared anymore," he said softly, stroking her cheek with his thumb. "We're here to keep you safe."

She closed her eyes. "I'm still kinda weird about touching," she admitted. "I don't like it from most people. But the people I do like it from, I really, really do."

Scott felt a warmth spread through him at her words. "You're doing so well," he said, his voice gentle. "You're stronger than you give yourself credit for."

Moxie leaned into his hand.

Touch-starved, Scott thought, not for the first time. Moxie was absolutely starving for affection. He tried to give her what she needed, but sometimes he thought she'd never get enough.

He didn't have any papers to grade that night, but he knew she'd still want their usual movie night. They settled in the teacher's lounge, the soft glow of the television screen casting shadows across their faces. She picked an animated film, something light and fluffy that would make her laugh.

Scott sat next to her on the couch, his arm around her shoulders. He felt her relax into him, her head resting against his chest as she munched on popcorn. They watched in companionable silence, the only sounds their chewing and the occasional snicker from her.

When she was finished with the popcorn, she set the bowl aside, then climbed into her usual spot on Scott's lap, her knees hugged to her chest and her head under his chin.

Her tail swished against his leg as she watched the movie, the light from the TV dancing across her features. Scott felt her body tense up when a suspenseful scene played out on the screen. He wrapped his arms around her more tightly, his hand finding its way to her tail to stroke it gently.

Moxie leaned into the touch, her eyes never leaving the screen. He could feel her relax as the scene transitioned to something more comedic. The film was a rollercoaster of emotions, but she remained steadfast in her need for closeness.

"Mr. Summers?" she asked, leaning against him. "I love you a lot."

Scott stilled. He knew she meant it innocently. Knew it was a soft, childlike declaration that had nothing to do with romance.

He took a deep breath, his heart swelling with a fierce protectiveness. "I love you too, Moxie," he murmured back, his voice thick.

Her eyes searched his face for a moment before she nodded, seemingly satisfied. "Good," she said, snuggling closer.

Scott held her tightly, his thoughts racing. He knew he had to tread carefully. Her emotional development was stunted in some ways, but he also knew she was growing, changing, and healing every day. He couldn't let her down.

As the movie played on, he felt her breathing even out, her eyes slowly closing. He rubbed her back in the way she liked, feeling the tension ease from her shoulders. He knew she wasn't just tired; she was exhausted from the emotional strain of the day.

He picked her up gently, her head falling onto his shoulder as she drifted to sleep. Carrying her to her room, he laid her down on her bed, taking care not to disturb her. He pulled the covers over her, tucking Arnold the octopus beside her for comfort.

He stroked her hair, and she mumbled, half asleep. "Another blanket?"

He knew she was stalling. That she didn't want him to leave just yet. "Of course," he said, his voice soft. He pulled out a blanket from her closet, laying it over her. "Is this okay?"

Moxie nodded, her eyes still closed. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with sleep.

She reached, and he pressed a kiss to her forehead. She mumbled and tilted her face, her mouth sliding against his.

It was a small, unconscious move, as natural to her as her nuzzles and purrs, but it sent a jolt through him. He froze, his breath catching in his chest.

She sighed sleepily, her face so warm against his. She continued her nuzzles, drifting off against him. It was a moment of pure innocence, and Scott felt his resolve waver.

He knew he should pull away, maintain the boundaries Professor Xavier had warned him about. But she was just a girl who had been through so much, seeking comfort in the only way she knew how. So, he held her close, his heart breaking for the pain she'd suffered.

The silence was filled with the sound of her breathing and the quiet hum of the air conditioner. He sat in the chair beside her bed, watching her sleep, his mind racing with thoughts of her past and their future together. The weight of his promise to protect her was heavier than ever, but he knew he'd do anything for her.

His lips still tingled from the unintentional kiss, and Scott felt the line between them blur even more. He knew it was innocent, a sign of the trust and bond they had built, but he couldn't ignore the way it made his heart race.

He sat in the chair next to her, his eyes never leaving her peaceful face. Her breathing grew deep and even, a testament to the safety she felt with him. It was a stark contrast to the fear and sadness he'd seen earlier, and it made him feel like maybe, just maybe, he was doing something right.

It wasn't just Scott that Moxie was opening up to. Her friendship with the kids her age had changed, too. No longer was she the rebellious, wild one they either admired or feared. Now she was... One of them. A member of the pack.

They didn't know her past, of course. It wasn't something she talked about. But she'd become more open with them, sharing laughs and stories, letting them see her vulnerability without the mask she'd worn so long. They responded in kind, with patience and care that made Scott's heart swell with pride.

But of course something else was happening, too. It was inevitable. It was a good thing, Scott told himself, when he watched Rictor fall for Moxie.

It was obvious even to Scott. The way Rictor's eyes lingered on her. The way he laughed too loudly at her jokes. The way he was always finding excuses to touch her, even if it was just a gentle brush against her arm. It was the kind of crush that was hard to miss, especially when you were as observant as an X-Men.

Naturally, Moxie remained oblivious.

The tension grew palpable as Rictor's glances grew more frequent and lingering. The boy was pining like a puppy dog.

Moxie remained blissfully unaware, her heart still in the throes of healing. Scott, however, felt a new kind of protectiveness stirring within him. He wasn't jealous, not exactly. And Rictor was a perfectly nice boy. But he knew what Moxie had been through, the manipulation and pain she'd suffered. He couldn't bear the thought of her getting hurt again, not when she was just starting to learn how to trust.

He decided to have a chat with the young mutant, pulling him aside after one of their training sessions. "Look, Rictor," he began, his voice firm but gentle. "I know you've got feelings for Moxie, but she's still dealing with a lot."

Rictor looked surprised, his cheeks turning pink. "She is? Is everything okay?"

Scott sighed, deciding on a taciturn approach. "Her past is...complicated," he said. "We're working on it."

Rictor nodded, his eyes wide. "I won't do anything to make it worse," he promised, his voice earnest. "I just want her to be happy."

He was a big, sweet puppy of a boy. Scott knew he should be happy for him. But all he felt was a knot in his stomach. He'd have to keep an eye on things.

One night, as Moxie was in Scott's lap watching him grade, she even broached the topic. "Rictor is... Interesting," she said cautiously, as though not quite sure what to think.

Scott looked up, his eyes meeting hers. "Yeah?" he asked, his voice carefully neutral.

"Yeah," she said, her tail swishing. "He's really nice and funny. He invited me to stay at his family's house over Día de Muertos this fall."

Scott felt a twinge of something. Jealousy? Concern? He wasn't quite sure. "That's...that's great, Moxie," he said, trying to keep his voice even. "They seem like a good family."

Moxie looked down. "I wanted to go," she whispered. "I wanna meet his family and hang out... But I had to say no thank you."

"Why's that?" Scott asked, his voice gentle.

Moxie hesitated. "Because I think it would mean more to Rictor than it would to me," she explained finally. "And I don't wanna hurt his feelings or... Or lead him on, or whatever."

Ah. So she did know. Or at least she was starting to understand the implications of her actions. Scott felt a strange mix of relief and sadness. She was growing up so fast.

"You don't like him back?" he asked, trying to keep his voice neutral.

Moxie's tail stopped swishing and she sat up, looking at Scott with a furrowed brow. "I like him as a friend," she said. "But I don't like-like him, you know?"

Scott nodded, his heart pounding in his chest. He didn't know if it was because he was relieved or because he realized just how much he didn't want to see her hurt. "It's okay to take things slow," he told her, trying to keep his emotions in check. "Friendship is important, too."

Moxie leaned into him again, her tail wrapping around his arm. "Thanks, Mr. Summers," she said, her voice muffled. "You always know what to say."

Scott felt a warmth spread through him. She was right; he did know what to say, mostly because he felt the same way. He liked Rictor, but the thought of Moxie with anyone else sent a bolt of something through him that was definitely not paternal instinct.

He cleared his throat, trying to shake the feeling away. "So, no Día de Muertos with Rictor's family?" he asked, keeping his tone light.

"Maybe someday," Moxie said. "But... But not until he stops liking me so much. Maybe when he dates someone else, and it can be just as friends?"

Scott nodded. "That's a good plan, Mox. It's important to be honest with people about your feelings."

Moxie leaned back, her tail loosening around his arm. "I know," she said, her voice thoughtful. "But it's hard. I don't want to hurt his feelings. He's important to me, you know?"

Scott nodded, his throat tightening. "I do know," he said. "And he's important to us, too. But you have to do what's right for you, Mox. You've been through so much, you deserve to make choices that are right for you."

Moxie looked up at him with those big, gold eyes. "Do you think I'm doing okay?" she asked, her voice small.

Scott's heart clenched. "You're doing amazing, Moxie," he said, his voice firm. "You're strong, and brave, and I'm so proud of you."

Moxie looked down, her cheeks coloring. "Thanks," she mumbled, her voice barely audible.

Scott leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "You really are," he assured her.

"Moxie. Why the hell are you still awake?"

Sabertooth stood in the doorway of the gym, watching with irritation as she wound up to deliver a kick to the punching bag, her heel a few inches shy of the target.

The girl growled, annoyed with herself, and set up to try again. She was a tall, thin teen, her auburn hair pulled back into a bun, her fox ears pinned back in concentration. Her tail lashed.

He might as well have not spoken, for all the attention she paid him.

"Pup!" he barked. "Training time is over. You're supposed to be in bed. You're gonna fuck your body up if you keep pushing."

Moxie turned, her eyes flashing with a mix of defiance and exhaustion. "I can handle it," she said, setting her jaw. "Besides, I've got a lot to learn before I can be ready for the missions."

Sabertooth was not a patient man. He hadn't wanted to be a mentor to begin with. But Magneto had insisted... "You won't be going on any missions if you can't follow orders. Orders like 'go to bed'."

Moxie's eyes narrowed at the challenge in his voice. She knew she was pushing her limits, but the thought of being left behind was unbearable. "I'm not a child," she snapped. "You're my mentor, not my boss."

Sabertooth's annoyance grew into a low, simmering anger. He took a step into the room, his large, powerful frame casting a shadow over her. "I'm not your boss," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "But I am your mentor, and you'll listen to me."

Her gold eyes flashed with anger, and she bared her fangs at him, something she'd never done before. "Would you back off?!" she insisted. She aimed another kick at the punching bag.

Sabertooth felt his own temper flare. "That's enough," he said, his voice deeper, more animalistic. He strode over to her, his movements surprisingly quick for his size. He grabbed her by the scruff of her neck, lifting her off the ground. "You're gonna learn respect, and you're gonna learn it now."

Moxie squirmed and swiped at him with her claws, her heart racing. "Put me down!" she yelled, but he was unyielding. He hauled her over to the side of the gym and threw her over his lap, her legs kicking in the air. She could feel the muscles in his thighs, tense and unyielding beneath her.

"Victor, what the fuck!" She surged, attempting to roll over, to scramble away. "You can't-"

He slapped a hand down over her lower back, pinning her in place. "Watch your mouth, pup," he warned, his voice a gruff rumble. "And if you keep fighting, I'll just have to hold you down harder."

Her claws dug into the bench he sat on, desperate to scrabble away. "Get off me!" her voice was a low growl.

Sabertooth's hand tightened on her waist. "You're not going anywhere until I've taught you a lesson," he said, his voice cold. He raised his other hand, and brought it down with a firm smack on her upturned bottom.

She froze, absolutely still, clearly shocked silent by what he'd done.

Then her struggling began a new. "What the hell?!" she snarled. "You can't- this isn't- stop!"

Sabertooth's smack was followed by another, and another, each one a little harder than the last. Her yelps grew louder, filling the quiet gym with the sound of her protests.

"What is wrong with you!" Her back arched, her face on fire, humiliation squeezing her heart. "You can't do this!"

"Oh, but I can," he said, his palm landing sharply on her bottom again. "You're my pup to train, and when you act like a disobedient child, you're gonna get treated like one."

He gave a particularly harsh smack, and her next yelp sounded suspiciously like a sob. He paused, and then she was fighting anew to get away.

With a roar, he grabbed her shorts and underwear in one handful, ripping them off her skinny body. He resumed spanking her bare ass. Her tail lashed like mad, her legs kicking.

"You're mine," he grunted with each smack. "Mine to train, mine to keep safe, and that means listening to me."

"I'm not yours!" Her claws dug deeper into the bench.

Sabertooth ignored her protests, his hand falling in a steady rhythm. Each smack resonated through the gym, punctuating the silence with a sharp sound that echoed off the walls. Moxie's yelps grew more frantic, her body tensing and jerking with each impact. Her bare skin grew hot under his palm, reddening with each strike.

A slap on her inner thighs had her sobbing again. "It fucking hurts," she snarled through gritted teeth.

"Good," he said, pleased with the sound of pain. "You're supposed to learn from this."

She snarled like the half feral thing she was, and began to fight anew, twisting and struggling. Her legs separated, and his next spank came dangerously close to striking her pussy. She froze, eyes huge. "V-Victor..."

In the dimly lit chamber of the abandoned warehouse, the air hung thick with the scent of metal and ozone. The three figures—Avalanche, Toad, and Blob—lolled about on makeshift couches, remnants of a past life before the Brotherhood had claimed this space as their own. Avalanche, his skin a shade of blue that matched the hue of his aura, picked at a bowl of stale popcorn. Toad, all sinew and slime, flipped through the pages of a gossip magazine with a flick of his long, sticky tongue. Blob, his body a gelatinous mass that defied gravity, chuckled to himself, his laughter bouncing off the concrete walls like a muffled drumbeat.

Moxie, the newest member of the Brotherhood of Mutants, sat quietly in the corner, her eyes flitting between the TV playing an old sitcom and the trio of boys across the room. Her heart raced as she listened to their hushed conversations, hoping they wouldn’t turn their attention to her. She was young, unsure of her place among these seasoned outcasts, and she knew she didn’t want to be the butt of their jokes.

The TV's laugh track echoed in the room, briefly overpowering the murmur of the old refrigerator in the corner. The flickering screen cast a ghostly light over the faces of the three boys, painting their features in an eerie, otherworldly palette. The silence grew heavier, until it was shattered by a snicker from Toad.

SUMMARY^1: In the Brotherhood of Mutants’ warehouse hideout, Avalanche, Toad, and Blob relax, while the young and anxious Moxie observes from the shadows. The atmosphere is tense, filled with the smell of ozone and anticipation.

"Hey, Moxie," he called out, his tongue darting out to catch a rogue popcorn kernel that had flown his way. "You still crushing on our fearless leader?"

Avalanche and Blob chuckled, their mirth a coarse rumble that seemed to resonate through the very air. Moxie's cheeks burned, and she hoped the darkness would hide her blush.

"Hilarious," she said, hoping her dry sarcasm would ward them off. She flopped back in her seat, her gold eyes still on the TV. It took effort to keep her fox ears still,; prevent them from twitching in the boys' direction. Her tail twitched uneasily.

But Toad wasn’t easily deterred. He hopped over to her, the magazine slapping shut with a smack. "C'mon, spill the tea. We've all seen the way you look at him." His eyes gleamed with mischief, and Moxie felt a knot tighten in her stomach.

"What, with my eyes? How am I supposed to look at people, dumbass?" she shot him a glare, fighting the urge to get up and go to her room. That would all but confirm their suspicions, wouldn't it?

Blob's laugh grew louder, a deep, rolling sound that seemed to make the floor tremble beneath her. "You know, like you're about to throw your panties at him," he said, his voice thick with amusement.

Moxie's grip on the armrest tightened, her nails digging into the worn fabric. She had to admit, there was something about Magneto that drew her in. His power, his conviction, the way he could command a room—or a battlefield—without saying a word. But she'd never let them know that.

SUMMARY^1: Toad teases Moxie about her crush on Magneto, the Brotherhood's leader. Moxie tries to act indifferent, but her body language betrays her. The tension in the room escalates as Avalanche and Blob join in the laughter, making Moxie feel even more self-conscious.

"You guys are just gross," she retorted, trying to sound bored. "You know he's like, fifty times older than me, right?"

Avalanche smirked, his teeth glinting in the TV's glow. "Age is just a number, right? Besides, I've seen the way he looks at you too. Like you're the last slice of pizza on Earth."

Moxies's heart skipped. Her ears betrayed her by swivelling in Lance's direction. Could it be possible that Magneto-

No, she told herself. Avalanche was just being an asshole. Of course.

Of course Avalanche noticed her momentary slip. He leaned in closer, his dark eyes gleaming with a smugness that made Moxie want to punch him. "Oh, you do like him!" he crowed, and the other two hyena-laughed in response.

"Don't you guys ever think of anything else?" she sighed. Despite her best efforts at nonchalance and indifference, she felt a blush burning across her cheeks.

Toad leaned closer, his slimy skin brushing against hers. "Oh, we think about plenty of things. Like how wet you'd get for him."

Her body jerked away from his, eyes huge. Had he actually just said that to her? "What the fuck, Toad!"

Blob's laughter grew, a deep, bass rumble that seemed to shake the very walls of the warehouse. "Don't worry, Toad's just being Toad." He reached out a gelatinous hand to pat her shoulder, but she shrugged it off.

Moxie stood, her tail lashing behind her. "I'm going to bed," she announced, her voice a little too loud. "Alone. Thanks for the... enlightening conversation."

SUMMARY^1: Moxie deflects the teasing by pointing out the age difference with Magneto. Avalanche continues to provoke her, suggesting Magneto might reciprocate her feelings. Toad's crude remark causes Moxie to storm off, feeling violated and embarrassed.

The boys' laughter followed her as she stomped off, the sound of their jeers bouncing off the metal walls like a cacophony of echoes. She could feel their eyes on her, and she knew they were watching her every move. The heat in her cheeks didn't subside until she'd slammed her door shut, the echo ringing through the warehouse like a gunshot.

She didn't leave her room until the next morning, and then very reluctantly. Breakfast was in the kitchen, and if she didn't show up, someone was sure to ask why.

Making her way downstairs, her entire mood was immediately turned upside down when she heard Magneto's deep voice conversing with everyone in the dining hall.

She hurried into the room, glancing around until she saw him; large and strong and bold, her hero, her leader.

"Sir!" she called excitedly, hurrying to him. "You're back from your mission!"

Magneto looked up from his plate of untouched eggs, his gaze piercing her. "Moxie," he said evenly, his voice a mix of authority and curiosity. "How did you sleep?"

Badly, of course. She'd been too angry and embarrassed from the boy's teasing to manage more than a few hours. "It was alright," she fibbed. She couldn't keep her tail still; it wouldn't stop wagging at the sight of him.

"Just alright?" He raised an eyebrow, his silver hair catching the light as he did so.

She turned away, face heating. "It's not important," she insisted. "You're home! How was your mission?"

SUMMARY^1: The next morning, Moxie emerges from her room, eager to avoid the previous night's embarrassment. She overhears Magneto's voice and rushes to the dining hall. Despite her efforts to play it cool, her excitement is palpable.

Magneto's gaze softened a fraction. "It was successful," he said, his voice low. "But it's always good to come back to... a warm welcome."

She was warned by his words, by his presence. She excused herself and made a plate of her own breakfast, waiting for the dining hall to fill with more mutants before slipping back into the room, sitting in her usual spot in the corner. She watched contentedly as Magneto spoke to everyone.

The dining hall was a bustle of activity, with mutants of all shapes and sizes grabbing food from the long table. Plates clanked, silverware scraped, and the occasional burst of flame or telekinetic movement made the air crackle with energy. The banter between the members of the Brotherhood was sharp and often biting, but there was a sense of camaraderie underlying it all.

Avalanche bumped her table with his hip, and she startled, looking up at him. He grinned.

"You look happy," he teased, speaking quiet enough that only she could hear. "Now that Daddy's home." He reached and gave her ears a condescending pat. "You gonna go offer to be his cute little pup?"

Moxie's eyes narrowed. "Don't," she hissed, keeping her voice low. "You know he's not like that."

Avalanche leaned in closer, his smirk unwavering. "Oh, I know," he whispered. "But you are, aren't you? Maybe I could help you out."

Moxie's teeth ground together. "Don't you have better things to do?" she hissed.

SUMMARY^1: Moxie joins the others for breakfast, still nervous from the previous night's teasing. Magneto's presence comforts her, but Avalanche continues his provocative behavior, hinting at a potential romantic relationship between her and Magneto.

SUMMARY^2: In the Brotherhood's warehouse, Moxie, Avalanche, Toad, and Blob interact with growing tension. Moxie's crush on Magneto is revealed and teased by the others, leading to her embarrassment and retreat. The following morning, she overhears Magneto and joins them for breakfast, feeling both comforted by his presence and awkward due to the previous night's events.

Avalanche leaned in even closer, his breath hot against her cheek. "Maybe I'd like to do you," he murmured, his eyes flicking down to her chest before meeting hers again.

She fought hard not to react. He wanted a reaction, she knew. Anything she did or said would fuel his fire. Her options were either to ignore him, or go wild and beat the shit out of him... And she definitely wasn't going to do the latter in front of Magneto

"I'll pass," she said quietly.

Avalanche's smirk grew wider, but he didn't push further. "Your loss," he said, turning away. She felt his eyes on her back as she retreated to her spot in the corner.

Moxie's appetite had vanished, but she forced down a few bites of her breakfast. She knew she needed to keep her strength up. Being part of the Brotherhood of Mutants wasn't all fun and games; it was a serious commitment to their cause. And despite the teasing, she knew Avalanche and the others respected her skills.

She kept herself busy for the rest of the day, working hard in training and in her studies. She'd really made decent progress since joining the brotherhood.

Gambit led sparring practice that afternoon. When he paired Moxie to spar with Lance, of all people, she bit back a groan. Fate was a bitch.

She stood across the mat from him, the gym full of a dozen other pairs sparring to their best effort. She dropped into a crouch.

"No powers this time!" Gambit reminded the class. "Remember, this is strength alone."

SUMMARY^1: Avalanche makes an inappropriate remark to Moxie, which she dismisses. Despite the harassment, she focuses on her duties within the Brotherhood, maintaining her composure. During sparring practice, she's paired with Lance, a member she's not particularly fond of. Gambit enforces a rule of no powers, emphasizing physical strength.

Moxie and Lance circled each other, eyes locked. The tension from the previous night still hung heavy between them, but Moxie knew she had to focus on the task at hand. The room was a blur of grunts and thuds as the other mutants practiced their hand-to-hand combat, each trying to outdo the other.

With a sudden burst of speed, Lance lunged at her. She barely had time to react, her reflexes kicking in as she rolled out of the way.

"Is that all you've got?" she taunted, a fiery spark in her gold eyes.

Lance smirked, his aura crackling around him. "You want more?" He took a step closer, his movements deliberate.

Moxie's pulse quickened, but she didn't back down. "I can handle whatever you throw at me," she spat, trying to ignore the way his gaze lingered on her body.

Lance chuckled, his aura flaring. "Oh, I'm sure you can," he said, his voice thick with innuendo. He feigned a punch, and she dodged again, her eyes never leaving his. "But can you handle this?"

Without warning, he kicked out, aiming for her midsection. Moxie blocked it, the impact jolting up her arms. She stepped back, her eyes narrowing. "You think you're funny, don't you?"

Lance's smirk grew. "Just keeping things interesting," he said, his aura crackling with mischief. He took another swing, and she ducked, his fist glancing off her shoulder. She could feel the heat of his breath, and the way his eyes raked over her. It was infuriating, but she knew he was just trying to throw her off her game.

SUMMARY^1: During sparring, Moxie and Lance are tense due to the previous night's events. Lance attempts to provoke Moxie with his actions and words, but she remains focused and dodges his advances, showing her combat skills and resisting his psychological tactics.

"Why don't you focus on fighting and less on trying to get into my pants?" she snarled, throwing a punch of her own.

Lance's eyes lit up with amusement. "Why don't you focus on keeping your guard up, and maybe I'd have to try harder?" He ducked her swing and landed a light jab to her ribs, making her grunt.

Moxie's cheeks flushed with anger, and she could feel her concentration waver. His smugness was like a knife twisting in her gut. She launched herself at him again, but he was ready for her, blocking her every move with ease. His smirks grew wider with every hit she missed, and she could feel the other mutants' eyes on them, their whispers and snickers a low hum in the background.

Lance's movements grew bolder, his punches and kicks landing more frequently. She stumbled backward, barely catching herself on the ropes that lined the sparring mat. Her eyes searched for an opening, but every time she thought she had him, he'd slip away, his smirk growing more infuriating with each passing second.

And then it happened. In a blur of motion, Lance grabbed her wrist, twisting it painfully before flipping her over his shoulder. She landed hard on her back, the wind knocked out of her. Before she could react, he was on top of her, one hand around her throat, the other pinning her wrists above her head.

SUMMARY^1: Moxie confronts Lance about his inappropriate behavior, but it only fuels his smugness. He continues to push her buttons, landing successful hits during their spar. The situation escalates until Lance manages to overpower her, pinning her to the ground and leaving her momentarily stunned.

Moxie's eyes went wide, a mix of surprise and anger. She bucked her hips, trying to throw him off, but his weight was too much for her. His aura crackled and danced around them, a blue halo that made her fur stand on end.

"Do you yield?" Lance's grin was feral, his teeth flashing in the harsh gym lights.

Moxie snarled, furious, thrashing underneath him. She flashed her fangs. Her claws lengthened, but she couldn't reach him.

"I said, do you yield?" Lance's grip tightened, and she felt the first hint of his power pressing down on her, his aura crackling more intensely. His knee pressed between her legs. When she again tried to buck him off, the friction shot heat up through her core.

Her eyes searched his, looking for a way out of this embarrassing predicament. But instead of finding cruelty or amusement, she saw... something else. Something that made her heart race even faster. Desire. He was just as affected by their proximity as she was.

"Yield," he whispered, his voice low and husky. His hand around her throat was a gentle caress rather than a firm grip. "Come on, Mox. You're just embarrassing yourself."

He pressed his knee more firmly between her legs, rubbing. The whimper that left her drew a few glances their way.

The humiliation of being heard, of being seen, brought tears to her eyes. "I yield!" she snapped, so furious that her body shook violently. "I yield, so get the fuck off me!"

SUMMARY^1: Moxie finds herself overpowered by Lance, and despite her initial anger, she recognizes the desire in his eyes. However, the public nature of their interaction and his continued provocation cause her great embarrassment. She ultimately yields to end the spar, feeling both humiliated and shaken by the encounter.

Lance chuckled, his eyes never leaving hers. He let go of her throat and wrists, but didn't move his knee, keeping her pinned. "Is that any way to talk to me?" He leaned in closer, his aura pulsing with a strange intensity.

Moxie felt a cold sweat break out on her forehead. Her heart was racing so fast she was sure it was going to burst out of her chest. Her chest felt tight, and she couldn't breathe. Panic, she realized with a sinking feeling. It was happening again.

Her eyes darted around the room, trying to find something to focus on. The other mutants sparring, the distant sound of Gambit's whistle, the smell of sweat and rubber from the mats. But it was all too much. The room was spinning, closing in on her.

Her hands covered her face. She was hyperventilating, her chest compressing until she thought she was sure to die. "Get of me, please get off me, please, please, please," she gasped, sick with panic.

The weight lifted and she felt his hand on her shoulder. "Hey, hey, are you okay?" Lance's voice was surprisingly gentle. Concerned.

But she couldn't answer, couldn't breathe. Couldn't stop the panic.

And then, suddenly, the pressure on her chest lifted. The world swam back into focus. Gambit's face hovered over hers, his eyes narrowed in concern. "Moxie, breathe with me," he instructed, his Cajun accent thick with urgency. "In... out... in... out..."

SUMMARY^1: Lance maintains his dominance over Moxie even after she yields, which triggers a panic attack. As she struggles to breathe, Gambit intervenes, offering comfort and guidance to help her through the overwhelming experience.

SUMMARY^2: At breakfast, Avalanche's teasing of Moxie's crush on Magneto persists. During a no-powers sparring session with Lance, Moxie's focus and skills are compromised by the tension from the night before. Lance provokes her, successfully landing hits and pinning her, causing her to yield. This leads to a humiliating moment and a panic attack, which Gambit notices and helps her manage.

Her chest heaved, but she tried to mimic his rhythm. The panic clung to her like a second skin, but she felt a glimmer of control return with each breath she took.

"Look at me, Moxie," Gambit's voice was firm but gentle. "In... out... keep going."

Her gold eyes, once full of fiery defiance, now searched his with desperation. She tried to follow his lead, her chest rising and falling in an erratic rhythm. The panic was still there, a live wire thrumming under her skin, but his calm presence helped to soothe it. The room grew less hazy, the sounds of the gym fading into the background.

She realized she was crying. Sobbing, actually. She barely knew Gambit, but here she was, bawling into his shoulder while he rubbed her back and guided her breathing.

"It's okay," he murmured, his voice soothing. "You're okay. Just breathe."

Moxie clung to Gambit's shirt, her nails digging into his fabric as she tried to control her breathing. The panic was slowly receding, leaving her feeling shaky and exposed. She hadn't had an attack like this in front of anyone in the Brotherhood before. The whispers around them grew quieter, the other mutants watching with a mix of curiosity and concern.

And then the shame hit.

Surging out of Gambit's hold, she transformed into another of her three forms; this one a small red fox.

She sprinted out of the training room on four desperate paws, seeking any exit out of the base.

SUMMARY^1: Gambit successfully helps Moxie regain control during her panic attack, offering a comforting presence. Overwhelmed by the experience, she transforms into a red fox and runs away from the training room, feeling a deep sense of shame for her vulnerability in front of the Brotherhood.

Moxie's thoughts were a tumultuous storm as she dashed down the cold, metal hallways, her small fox body weaving in and out of the shadows. She couldn't believe what had just happened. The humiliation was unbearable. The other mutants had seen her at her weakest, had heard her beg. It was a side of her she had worked so hard to keep hidden.

Finally, she found an exit, the heavy steel door leading to the cover of the woods. She pushed it open with a bang, the cool evening air washing over her, bringing with it the scent of pine and damp earth. The night was moonless, but her night-vision allowed her to navigate the dense foliage with ease. She didn't have a destination in mind; she just needed to escape, to run until she couldn't feel the sting of Lance's mocking smile or the weight of her own fear.

Her paws pattered against the soft ground, the rhythm of her breaths syncing with the rustle of leaves. The forest was alive with the whispers of nocturnal creatures, their eyes gleaming in the darkness as they watched her pass. Moxie felt a strange kinship with them, both predator and prey in this wild place. Her fox form was sleek and agile, the perfect embodiment of the fiery spirit that burned within her human heart.

-

Back at the base, Gambit approached Magneto with a furrowed brow, his usual cocky swagger replaced by a solemn gait. He found the leader in his study, surrounded by the glow of monitors and the hum of his magnetic technology.

SUMMARY^1: Moxie, humiliated by the panic attack, flees the training room as a red fox and finds refuge in the woods. Meanwhile, Gambit, concerned about her, seeks out Magneto in his study to discuss the incident.

"Boss," Gambit began, his voice tight. "Moxie ran away. We can't find her."

Magneto's head snapped up from his screens, his eyes narrowing. "What happened?"

Gambit took a deep breath. "It was during sparring. Avalanche was giving her a hard time, teasing her. Then she had a panic attack. She... transformed and bolted."

Magneto's expression grew stern. "A panic attack?"

Gambit nodded, his grip tightening on the back of his neck. "Yeah, she just... lost it. I tried to help, but she bolted out of the gym like she was on fire."

Magneto's gaze remained sharp on Gambit. "Do you know what triggered the attack?"

Gambit swallowed hard, his throat dry. "It was me," he admitted. "I paired her with Avalanche for sparring. I didn't realize he'd go so far with his teasing."

Magneto's gaze sharpened. "What did he say to her?"

Gambit winced, his heart heavy. "He was being... inappropriate. Suggestive. He got a knee between her legs and she couldn't handle it."

Magneto's eyes grew colder than the steel walls of the warehouse. He stood. "Moxie has a long history of being sexually abused," he said, voice cold. "Of course something like that would trigger her."

Gambit's eyes widened. "I didn't know," he whispered. "I... I should never have paired her with Avalanche. But they've been arguing for some time, and I thought they could work it out..."

SUMMARY^1: Gambit reports Moxie's panic attack and subsequent disappearance to Magneto, who is displeased to learn that Avalanche's teasing was the trigger. Gambit feels responsible for pairing them and is unaware of Moxie's history of sexual abuse, which explains her extreme reaction.

Magneto's expression softened, but his eyes remained stern. "It's not your fault," he said. "But we need to find her. She's vulnerable out there." He gestured to the screens, displaying various parts of the surrounding woods.

"I'll find her myself," he decided. "Victor and I. I need his nose. Take him to Moxie's room, first; offer him some laundry to sniff so he catches her scent. Then tell him to meet me at the entrance for the woods."

Without waiting for Gambit's reply, Magneto strode out of the room, his cape billowing behind him. Gambit nodded, feeling the weight of his mistake heavy on his shoulders. He knew Moxie had a past, but he had no idea it was so... so raw. He found the other students hovering outside the training room, their eyes wide with concern.

Gambit nodded solemnly, understanding the gravity of the situation. He knew he had to make it right. He headed to Moxie's room, where he found Victor, the Brotherhood's feral wolf-like mutant, sprawled out on her bed. Victor looked up at Gambit with his piercing yellow eyes, sensing the tension in the air.

"Victor," Gambit said, his voice low and serious. "We need your help. Moxie's gone missing."

The wolf-mutant's ears perked up at the mention of her name. He leaped off the bed, his fur bristling. Gambit quickly explained the situation, his voice tight with urgency.

"You need to track her scent," Gambit instructed, tossing a piece of Moxie's clothing at Victor. "Meet Magneto at the woods entrance. We need to find her before she gets hurt."

Victor's eyes flashed with understanding, and he took the scrap of fabric in his mouth, his teeth tearing at it as he inhaled deeply. The fabric was imbued with Moxie's unique scent—a blend of fear, anger, and a hint of the sweetness that always lingered around her. He dropped the fabric and transformed into his full wolf-like form, his eyes glowing with a fierce determination that made Gambit's heart swell with hope.

Leaving Gambit behind at the base, Victor padded to where Magneto waited. He glanced at his boss, and then set off, sniffing for the fox's trail.

The night was alive with scents, but Victor's heightened sense of smell quickly honed in on Moxie's. The trail was faint, but it was there—a mix of fear and fury that painted a clear picture of her emotional state.

Magneto followed closely, his eyes scanning the woods with the precision of a hawk. Despite his anger at Avalanche's behavior, his main concern was for the young mutant who had stumbled into their lives. He knew she had been through hell and had found refuge with them. This was supposed to be her sanctuary, not a place to relive her nightmares.

The woods were not his domain; the woods belonged to creatures like Moxie and Victor. He trusted his companion to find the fox... And find her he did. Springing forward, he sprinted away, paws silent in the underbrush.

Magneto heard a scuffle, a yelp. A growl.

Minutes later, Victor returned to him, his jaws clamped gently around his trembling prize.

"Here," Victor rumbled, dropping the fox at Magneto's feet.

Moxie stared up at Magneto in terror, her fur puffed to twice its size. She'd reverted back to an animal mindset, likely forgetting herself, and him.

"Easy," Magneto soothed, his voice calm but firm. He crouched beside her.

She looked around for escape, but with Victor at her back and Erik before her, there was none. She let out a low, keening whimper.

"It's alright, Moxie," Magneto murmured, his hand reaching out to her. "You're safe."

He stroked her, cupping her head, rubbing at her ears. Perhaps his scent was reaching her, perhaps his gentle touch. Some of her terror faded; enough for her to lay, panting and docile, at his feet.

"Shift back," he urged, his voice still soft.

"I don't want to," she whispered. Another good sign, if she remembered speech.

Magneto nodded solemnly. "I know. But we need to talk. And I need to make sure you're okay."

She sat up on her haunches, and then transformed. Fur receded, limbs lengthened, muzzle shortened into mouth and nose. In under a minute, a naked girl sat cringing and ashamed where a fox had been before.

"I'm sorry, sir," Moxie whispered, her head hanging.

Magneto's expression was stern. "You have nothing to apologize for," he said firmly.

Moxie's eyes darted to his, surprised. "But... I lost control," she whispered.

"And you will regain it," Magneto assured her, his tone unyielding. "We all have moments of weakness."

He unbuckled the cape at his throat, slinging it over her trembling body. It was warm from his skin, and smelled faintly of metal and the cologne he always wore. She curled into it, feeling a strange comfort from the fabric.

Victor nosed at her back. With his gentle encouragement, she climbed onto the massive wolf, clinging to his back like she would a horse.

"I'll lead," Magneto said, his hand on Victor's neck. "You stay close."

Victor nodded, and the two set off through the woods. The silence was punctuated only by the occasional rustle of leaves and the soft thud of the wolf's paws. Moxie clung to Victor's back, the warmth of his fur and the steady beat of his heart beneath her offering a small measure of comfort.

As they approached the warehouse, the lights grew brighter, casting a stark contrast to the comforting darkness of the woods. Moxie felt a knot form in her stomach. She didn't want to face the others, didn't want to deal with the questions and the pity. But she knew she had to.

To her surprise, Magneto led the two of them to a private entrance; one she hadn't known about. It led straight to Magneto's chambers.

She wouldn't have to face everyone, after all. Not tonight.

Magneto's chambers were dimly lit, the only light coming from a single lamp in the corner. It cast long shadows across the floor, making the room feel even larger than it was. The walls were lined with bookshelves, filled with ancient tomes and artifacts from his past. The air was thick with the scent of leather and oak, a stark contrast to the earthy smells of the forest.

Victor waited for Moxie to dismount before resuming his usual form. Emotional things were not his forte, and he gave both an awkward nod.

"I'll just. Go back to my post," he grunted, and let himself out.

The door closed with a soft click, leaving Moxie and Magneto alone.

Clutching the cape around herself, Moxie felt sick with shame, with self loathing. "I'm sorry to cause so much trouble," she said. "I... I shouldn't have run away like that."

Magneto turned to face her, his eyes piercing through the shadows. "You did what you had to do to survive," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

Moxie's throat tightened. "But I can't keep doing this," she said, her voice small. "I can't keep losing control like this."

Magneto's gaze softened. "You're stronger than you know," he assured her. "And we'll work on it together."

She curled in his cape, her face in her knees. Tears began to fall.

He remained crouched beside her, his hand warm on jer back.

"Gambit told me that Avalanche... Frightened you," he said, his words careful.

Moxie nodded, not looking up. "He and the guys have been such jerks lately." She held her tail on her tap, fingers weaving through the fur for comfort. "But I should've just ignored it."

Magneto's grip on her shoulder tightened slightly. "No," he said firmly. "You should not have to ignore it. This is your home, and you should feel safe here."

Moxie looked up at him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "It's just what boys do. They tease, right?"

Magneto's expression grew stern. "Which boys, Moxie? What have they been saying?"

Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I'm not a snitch," she mumbled.

"You're not a snitch," Magneto agreed. "You're a survivor." His voice was firm, leaving no room for argument. "And here, in the Brotherhood, we look out for each other. Tell me what happened."

She buried her face in her tail. Hauntingly, she began. "Toad and Blob... But mostly Avalanche. They just... Say stuff, sometimes."

"What kind of stuff?" Magneto's voice was like a tight coil.

She shook her head, her blush blooming anew. "I can't tell you."

Magneto's expression was thunderous. "You can and you will," he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. "We cannot protect you if we do not know what is happening."

Her eyes squeezed shut. "But it's about you."

Magneto's hand froze on her shoulder. "Me?"

Moxie's voice was a whisper. "They say I have... feelings for you. And they tease me about it. They make jokes, say that I'm trying to get into your pants. They make it sound so gross."

She was shaking now, her entire body trembling under the weight of her words. "And then today, with Lance..."

Magneto's eyes grew colder than the steel he so often manipulated. "Tell me," he said, his voice low and deadly.

Moxie took a deep breath. "Lance... He said things about me and you. He kept touching me during sparring. And he... Was like. Rubbing... Me. And it felt good, but I hated it, and he wouldn't get up..."

Her words trailed off as she tried to compose herself.

Magneto's expression was a storm of emotions. "They've gone too far," he murmured, his voice dangerously calm.

Moxie looked up at him, her eyes wide. "It's my fault," she said quickly. "I shouldn't have let it get to me."

Magneto's expression didn't waver. "It's not your fault," he said firmly. "You're not to blame for their lack of respect."

He stood, his cape billowing around him like a dark cloud. "You're going to stay here tonight," he said. "I'll handle Avalanche and the others."

Moxie's eyes went wide. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to make sure they understand the gravity of their actions," Magneto said, his voice cold. "And that you are not to be trifled with."

His hand was gentle on her head, smoothing her hair back. "You wait here," he said softly. "I'll be back shortly. I'm trusting you not to run away again."

Moxie nodded, feeling a spark of hope despite her fear. Magneto had never been anything but kind to her, never made her feel less than she was. If he said he would handle it, she had to believe him.

He strode from his chambers, but he didn't have to go far. Just outside waited the Avalanche, looking pale and contrite.

Magneto stood, regarding him, silent.

The Avalanche could not meet his gaze. "I heard Victor tell Gambit," he said quietly. "That... That you'd found Moxie. Is she okay?"

Magneto's eyes were like chips of ice. "For now," he said, his voice tight. "But she shouldn't have had to run. She shouldn't have felt so unsafe that she felt the need to hide from us."

Lance's gaze dropped to the floor. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I didn't mean to... I didn't know."

Magneto's eyes bore into him. "You didn't know," he repeated. "And yet you felt entitled to treat her with such disrespect."

"I just." He fidgeted. He was a large boy, handsome. "I just... She's always looking at you, sir. I only wanted-"

Magneto cut him off with a sharp gesture. "You wanted what?" His voice was like a whip crack.

"I wanted her to look at me!" Lance turned his dark eyes onto him. "It's always you, with her. It's like nobody else exists. But today, for a second... For a second, she finally saw me."

Magneto's expression was like a shutter slammed shut. "You think this is about attention?" he spat. "You think you can toy with a traumatized girl to satisfy your own ego?"

"How was I supposed to know she was... Traumatized, or whatever?! She always acts tough."

Magneto's voice was a cold whisper. "Ignorance is no excuse for cruelty," he said, his grip tightening on the banister. "You're part of this family. You're supposed to protect each other, not hurt each other."

Lance looked up at him, his eyes wide. "But I didn't mean to hurt her," he protested. "I didn't want... That. I just wanted..."

"You just wanted what?" Magneto's voice was like steel. "To make her uncomfortable? To push her boundaries? To scare her?"

"I wanted her to... Like me. Or something." Lance's face went red.

"And you thought that by pushing her like that, you would make her feel something for you?" Magneto's voice was a cold sneer. "You're a fool."

"It... It worked, though!" He was growing defensive. "She finally saw me. And she... She acted like it felt good." His blush grew. "I thought, maybe..."

Magneto's expression was unforgiving. "You thought wrong," he said coldly. "Her response is not an invitation, nor is it a measure of her feelings for you. It's a survival mechanism."

He saw the regret in Lance's eyes. The embarrassment, the guilt. He really was only a teenager, and he'd been raised without love; a foster boy, surrounded by boys.

"I'm sorry," Lance whispered. "I didn't mean it like that."

Magneto's gaze softened slightly. "I know," he said. "But you need to understand the power of your words and actions. You need to be better."

Lance nodded, his head bowed. "I do," he murmured. "I'll make it right."

Magneto's gaze was unyielding. "You will," he said firmly. "Start by understanding the gravity of your actions." He paused, his eyes boring into Lance. "And by speaking to her tomorrow, when she's ready. Apologize sincerely and accept whatever she says."

There was pain in Lance's eyes, when he dared to meet Magneto's gaze. "Does she hate me?"

Magneto's expression softened slightly. "I don't know what she feels," he said. "But I do know she's scared. And hurt."

"Can I see her?" He glanced at Magneto's door. "Please? I'm... Fuck. I need to... I have to do something. I don't know what."

Magneto's eyes searched his. "Tomorrow," he said finally. "When she's ready. I'll send for you."

Lance nodded, defeat etched into his features. "Thank you," he murmured. "Sir, I'm. I'm sorry."

Magneto said nothing, but his posture was less severe. He knew the boy didn't fully understand what he'd done, but he also knew that true change came from within. And Lance had a long way to go.

Moxie sat in the quiet of his chambers, her heart racing. She could hear muffled voices outside, but she couldn't make out the words. She hoped it was just Victor, checking in, but she knew it was likely the others had heard about her breakdown. She felt exposed, vulnerable in a way she hadn't in years.

The door opened, and Magneto returned. His eyes searched hers, looking for something. Understanding, perhaps. "They're gone," he said, his voice gentle. "For now, you're safe here."

Moxie nodded, her throat tight. "Thank you," she whispered.

He reached for her, and she allowed him to pull her to her feet. She rested her face in his chest, clutching at his sleeve.

"I love you," she whispered, tears in her eyes. "I love you so much. There's... There's nobody like you."

Magneto's arms tightened around her. "I care for you, Moxie," he said, his voice thick. "You know that."

Moxie nodded into his chest, feeling the warmth of his embrace. "But they don't," she whispered. "They don't know what you're like. They just see the leader, the scary guy with the metal powers. And they think I'm... I don't know. They make it gross, and dirty, and they call me your pet, and it's not like that!"

Magneto's hand stroked her hair, soothing her. "I know," he murmured. "It's not like that."

Moxie pulled away, sniffling. "But it's true," she said, her voice shaky. "I do love you. I can't help it."

Magneto's expression was unreadable. "Moxie," he began, his voice heavy. "Your feelings are your own. But you must understand-"

"I'm not... Asking anything from you," she insists. "I don't expect anything. I know you can't like me back. I just like being with you."

Magneto's eyes searched hers, and he sighed. "Moxie, you are more than just a student to me," he said, his voice gruff. "But we are in a position of power over you. It is not right for me to encourage your feelings."

Moxie's eyes searched his, hopeful. "But what if I don't care about that?" she whispered. "What if I just want to be with you?"

Magneto's hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear. "You're young, Moxie," he said gently. "You're going to feel a lot of things in your life. But we have a responsibility to each other as mentor and student."

She leaned into his palm, her face reddening. She sighed. "I'm sorry, sir."

Magneto's expression was pained. "Don't apologize for your feelings," he said softly. "But we need to be careful."

Moxie nodded, her eyes downcast. "I know," she whispered. "But I can't help it."

Magneto's thumb continued to caress her cheek, and for a moment, she thought she felt something shift in the air. But then he stepped back, his expression returning to one of stoicism. "You can," he said firmly. "And you will. For now, let's focus on getting you some rest."

She nodded, wrapping his cape more tightly around herself. He guided her to his bed, waiting for her to climb in.

"You're safe here," he repeated, his voice firm. He pulled the blankets up to her chin.