Sins of the Father

Sins of the Father Chapter Nineteen (NC-17)
Disclaimers Apply

A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE (tm), Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta... *finally got Stedler and Waldorf out of my head * InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink and Dracena are wondermous for archiving/hosting. :) ProPhile is NOT a wee little puppet man but he is a smutmuse. :) and Morgan is smutty goodness personified. ;) Pass it on. Readers/Reviewers: *sigh * I fear the Killer Kitties (tm) have taken ReiMars...

"Dude, you ate all the cereal!"
"Uh uh! It was empty when I sat down!"
"Bobby! You froze the milk again!"
"Did not!"
"Gah! You got syrup on me!"
Amara closed her eyes and tried to ignore the cacophony of voices old and new swelling around her. She did not like this. It was nicer before, she thought, when it was just a few of them, when they could all sit in the kitchen. Now, it was eat in shifts or sit in the cavernous dining room. And, much to her chagrin, the Professor had insisted they all share meals as a group in order to foster bonding, he had explained. "Bond my ass," she muttered, stabbing at her Cream of Wheat1 viciously.
"Huh?" Lance's head snapped up and he stared at her through bleary eyes. "You say something, Princess?"
"No," she sighed, pushing the bowl away. "Nothing at all." She surreptitiously tugged the cuffs of her sweater to cover more of her wrists as Lance tried to focus on her. "What's with you? You look hungover."
Lance shrugged and smiled crookedly, reaching for more bacon. "Nah. Todd was snorin' like a sonofabitch last night. I think Rogue wore him out." He snickered. "Mister Toad's Wild Ride2 and all that."
"Oh, ew." Amara made a face of disgust at that mental picture. "I think I'm done eating now."
Lance sniffed back a chuckle. "What do you mean done?" he asked as she pushed her chair back. "You haven't even started!"
"I can't now that I'm picturing Todd naked," she replied tartly, wincing as she realized another failing of the dining room. Great acoustics. She glared at the suddenly quiet group at the table. "Oh, go finish breakfast. Twits."
"Amara," Jean said sternly. "That wasn't appropriate." She was entering the dining area from the kitchen, a plate of melon and toast in one hand, a glass of juice in the other. She paused to assess the situation and sighed. No room. They were going to need a bigger table soon, she thought. "What's the problem?" she asked as she found a seat next to Kitty. "Why are you calling everyone a twit?"
"She's picturing that scary guy naked," Annie piped up helpfully. She speared a piece of toast with her fork and added, "Toad."
Jean blinked. "Pardon?"
"I am NOT," Amara grated, "picturing Toad-Todd-naked!" She tugged fiercely at her sleeves again, thick wool despite the warm weather outside, and frowned.
"Well, good," Rogue drawled from the end of the table. "I'd hate to have to kick your ass." She smirked faintly, not truly caring. She knew Amara did not mean anything by it, even if she was really imagining her boyfriend nude. Amara's guttural snarl and subsequent storming from the dining room caught them all by surprise, though. "Hey!" Rogue frowned and stood, pushing her chair back so quickly that it overturned. She waved Jean back and took off after Amara herself, following the sound of her rapid stride on the wooden floor of the hallway leading to the dark recesses of the first floor. "Amara, wait!"
Amara sped up, jogging lightly as she rounded the corner to the old service passageway leading to the back door, opening just off the patio and in a narrow garden. "Fuck off, Rogue," she muttered under her breath, reaching the exit.
"I said, wait!" Rogue snapped, sprinting the last several yards and catching Amara's arm. "What the hell? I know you're not your best in the mornings but this is new levels of bitch..."
Amara hid her pain as Rogue's fingers dug into the fresh wounds on her upper arm. She could feel the blood start to seep beneath the bandages and the burning pressure of her friend's fingers. "Let go of me." She raised her free hand and let the fire come briefly. "Let go of me now."
Rogue held up her own free hand and wiggled her bare fingers. "Don't. Fuck. With. Me." She looked around quickly and saw the half-open door to the laundry room. Before Amara could follow the direction of her glance, she had pulled the Nova Roman into the relative privacy of the small room. "What's up with you? You've been acting weird since last night! First volunteering for that new chick to stay in your room then keeping Lance up all night...well, that's not so weird but it's weird because it didn't involve sex or something painful! Now this!" she made a sweeping gesture in the direction of breakfast. "What's going on?"
Amara frowned. "I didn't keep Lance up at all last night. I was...sleeping." She decided a partial truth was better than the whole thing in this case.
"You're lying," Rogue said after a minute. "You wiggle your tongue ring when you lie and right now, you're wiggling it a mile a minute!" She shook her arm again and demanded, "Talk to me!"
"Tell me why you think I kept Lance up all night first," she retorted primly, the pain in her arm making her clench her teeth. It hurt so bad she wanted to scream but she forced it back. She thought of her guardian, her goddess, and felt less pain. "I was in my room all night and have a witness."
"He said..." She blinked and her grip slackened a little. "He said Todd had the room to himself until midnight cause you wanted to show him something..."
"He lied then. I didn't see him between dinner and breakfast." Her hiss of relief as Rogue let go of her arm came out as more of a threatening sound. "Are you done? Is this inquisition over?"
Rogue narrowed her eyes. "Something is up with you and I'm gonna find out what it is!"
Amara felt woozy. She could feel the blood flowing freely, soaking into her shirt and sweater. She hoped she would not faint. "Nothing is wrong with me. I am allowed my moods."
"Yeah but...Holy shit..." Rogue glanced down at the floor and the small pool of blood forming there. "Amara...no..."
Amara did the first thing she thought of. She fisted her hand inside her sleeve and punched Rogue square in the face.

1 How to explain Cream of Wheat...hot semolina cereal, like oatmeal but made from semolina wheat.
2 Yet another innocent title that can go horribly, horribly wrong.