Institutionalized

INSTITUTIONALIZED CHAPTER FIVE (NC-17)
Disclaimers Apply

A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, is Dodo still mooning over the Mermaid? It's almost cute... InterNutter, TC and Maxwell Pink are wonderful wonderful people for archiving. :) Readers/Reviewers: It'll get faster soon. I promise on the head of the armadillos.

"I'm _fine _, Professor!" Jean was trying her best to block any and all errant thoughts from heading his way as the older man gazed steadily at her. She resorted to singing in her mind the theme to _Sesame Street _, which, she noticed, made him smile. "I just fainted because I hadn't eaten."
"I was a worrworried that I had shocked you somehow...I had only meant to express my relative surprise that you had turned down entry to Princeton in order to stay here in Bayville and attend college in the city. Perhaps saying that I did not approve was too strong of a phrase..."
Jean nodded a bit uncertainly. It had only been through great dint of will that she had not blurted apologies and explanations to the Professor when she regained consciousness the previous afternoon in the rec room with Scott leaning over her. An offhand comment from the older man had made her let out a long, shaky breath, something about "I never thought you were so emotionally invested in my opinion of your college choice." As he looked searchingly at her now, Jean realized that her guards were slipping. "Like I said," she explained, "I just hadn't eaten and I was a bit woozy from the heat..."
The Professor made a noncommittal noise. It was barely eighty degrees out, not nearly hot enough to cause fainting, but he was not going to press the issues since she seemed to be fine. "Jean, I want to talk to you about something potentially...problematic."
"Oh?" she said, sounding a bit strangled. "What would that be?"
"With this new influx of students, I fear that we are going to experience some...tension. You may know that it is my intent to begin a slow change from boardinghouse to actual school and as such, we will need to do some...rearranging of the sleeping situations here. Not now, you understand, but soon."
Jean frowned, mentally adding up the existing rooms, including the recently renovated rooms in the first sublevel, formerly storage and now small guest rooms, and the two bedrooms in the boathouse. "How many new people?"
"That's just it...I'm not very sure." He smiled somewhat sheepishly. "I am rather hopeful in expecting several..."
"So what is it you need from me?"
"I need for you to help make the new room arrangements and, with Storm and Logan, smooth out any disputes with the existing students when they are made to share a room with the new ones."
Jean nodded. "Is that it? I mean...I don't want to sound like I'm negligent, but I..."
"...have to take Tabby to her Lamaze class, I know. She called twice this morning. May I ask why Wanda..."
"You'll have to ask Kitty about those two when she gets back. For now, I just know that I'm the Lamaze coach until she comes back!" Jean stood and smiled a little thinly.
"While you're here, Jean...is there anything else on your mind? You seem distracted."
"Nope, fine. Perfectly fine. A-ok..." she backed towards the door. "Um...I'll make up some charts for who would be the most compatible roommates and ask Scott which of the guys he thinks will do well together...Should we keep Bobby and St John in separate rooms?"
"It's only fair to do so. Other couples can't share rooms, so why should they?" he asked with an arched brow.
"Point..." Jean found herself halfway in the hall. "Well...um...bye!" She knew that she was acting sketchy but could not help herself, walking quickly down the hall in search of Scott to allay his fears. Instead, she found Rogue, sitting on the foyer amidst shattered pottery, rubbing her jaw. "What happened?"
"Hurricane Amara!" she snapped, pointing towards the rec room.
Jean helped Rogue to her feet and strode into the rec room, fully in house-mother mode. Amara was huddled in the wingback chair, her knees drawn up to her chin and sniffling pitifully. Lance was standing in the doorway leading to the kitchen, his forehead pressed against the wood, and between the two were Todd and Remy, looking slightly battered and more than a little pissed. "Okay, what's going on in here?"
Together, Lance and Amara snapped, "Nothing!"
Remy rolled his eyes. "Dis one," he jerked his thumb in Amara's direction, "say he lie to her. An'say say she jus' pickin'."
Todd sighed. "She threw a vase at him but Rogue got in the way."
"Yeah, thanks for steppin' in there, Todd," Rogue said bitterly, rubbing the darkening bruise. "Not like you could've caught it or nothin'."
"I didn't notice until it was too late!" he snapped back, irritated by the fighting and not wanting to start in with Rogue.
"Okay, _children _," Jean said loudly. "Someone want to start telling me what's going on from the beginning?"
Amara stood stiffly, her knees popping with the effort of unbending. "You're not my mother. I don't have to answer to you."
"No, Princess Amara doesn't have to do anything anyone asks, does she?" Lance snapped. "We just have to follow orders while you act all high and mighty!"
"Futue te ipsum!" she shouted.1
"Well, dat one kinda universal," Remy said sotto voce.
Lance sighed, his face unreadable. He tried to push past Remy to get closer to Amara but found the Cajun to be relatively immobile. "Amara, we were both mad. I said some things I didn't mean and some things I could have said better. I'm sorry..."
Amara, countenance red and hands shaking, looked steadily at Lance, everyone else in the room seeming to fade into the background. "I love you very much Lance. You know that," she said softly, and he nodded, prodding her to go on. "But sometimes, it hurts more to love someone and have them than it does to love them and not..."
"What are you saying?" he asked sharply. There was a collective intake of breath and Jean felt her head begin to throb in response to the stress levels in the room.
"I'm saying that I love you very much, I love you more than anything or anyone else in my live, but I need a break."
"You're breaking up with me?"
"No...I just need a break. A few days or a week to be alone and not part of us."
"That makes no sense!" he said harshly, finally circumventing Remy and reaching for her arm.
"Lance...just let me be. This isn't over, understand," she said, a few tears leaking from her eyes, squeezed tightly shut. "I just..."
Lance watched, mouth agape, as she turned on her toes and ran upstairs. Rogue and Jean exchanged startled looks, each motioning for the other to follow Amara, both finally taking off after her. Remy sighed and laid a heavy hand on Lance's shoulder. "Don' worry much, ami. She jus' need time, ya know?"
Lance nodded numbly. Todd opened his mouth to say something but shut it quickly, then changed his mind and said, "You know, she's got a temper. Just give her the few days and she'll come around."
"You think so?" Lance asked flatly, staring at the stairs.
"Yeah. Yeah, I do..." For once, Todd missed Kitty. _She's good with this relationship crap. I wonder what time it is in Germany? _ He knew where the phone book was kept with all the contact information for those students who still had a family and he was pretty sure he could smooth talk his way around it when the phone bill came if he made one quick transatlantic call. "Remy..."
The Cajun nodded. "C'mon, homme. I got a lonely bottle o'bourbon in my room dat jus' beggin' us ta drink it..."

"No! No way! Like, you have so got to be kidding me!" Kitty whispered into the phone. Dinner was almost ready and guests would be arriving soon, making Kitty very self conscious about this private conversation. "What's she g nog now? Uh huh. And him? Hmmm. No! A new girl? Whaaaaat?"
Kurt stuck his head around the corner. "Liebes? Everything okay?"
"Yeah...I'll tell ya in a second!" She waved him off and returned to Todd on the other end of the line. "Well, we're leaving day after tomorrow. Try and keep them from going at each other's throats until then. And keep Lance away from that new girl until I get there! I know him and he'll be all over her like white on rice just to show Amara she didn't hurt him!"
Kurt waited in the doorway to the kitchen and gave Kitty an inquisitive look when she returned to hang the phone back on the cradle. "Well?"
"Lance and Amara had some sort of huge blow up and now they're on a break and Todd wants me to help sort it out when we get home."
"Todd? That was _Todd? _ How the Hell did he get this number?"
"Kurti! Language!" Astrid said sternly as she poured something from a pot into a serving dish.
"He looked it up...the Professor has all our families' numbers just in case something happens to us..." Kitty shrugged and moved to help Astrid set the table. "He seems to think I'm the resident Cupid or something."
Katja shot her a sly glance. "Well, you do have a sympathetic ear..."
Kitty cleared her throat. "So how long has the Rasputin2 family been part of the circus?"
The clatter of the silverware as Katja's hand flew to cover her mouth was loud in the small kitchen. "The Rasputins are coming for dinner? I thought it was some of the jugglers!"
Kurt gave his sister a strange look. "Sergei *is * a juggler. For now. His father is training him for the knife throwing act...What's wrong with you, Katja?"
"Nothing! I have to...to...oh!" She ran from the room, face pink and ears red.
Astrid snickered as she set the dishes of food on the table. "Kitty, did you know about her little crush?"
"I had an idea," she admitted. "Kurt, get that look off your face! She just likes him...it's not like they're getting married!"
"That's my sister!" he cried. "She's not supposed to like boys!"
Astrid shook her head and nudged Kitty as she passed. "Just wait until it's Erika's turn to develop an interest in boys...Kurt and Johannes won't have a single unfrayed nerve left!"
A heavy knock fell on the door and Johannes called from the study that he would get it. "I'll go get Katja," Kitty said, kissing Kurt quickly on the cheek as she passed. "Don't look so upset!" she said. "You'll scare the kid!"
"Good," Kurt growled, but managed to remove the frown from his face as Kitty giggled, heading down the hall to the girls' room.
"Katja, come on! They're here!" she said, pushing the ajar door further open. Katja was engaged in a fight to the death with a hair clip and seemed to be on the verge of panic.
"Why didn't you tell me they were coming?" she cried accusingly.
"I didn't see you after I found out!" Kitty rejoined, pushing Katja's hands away from her hair and taking over the struggler herself. As she untangled the barrette, Kitty said, "It's not so bad...I'm not going to tell about what I saw, I know you won't, and I feel safe in saying that Sergei won't , especially with Kurt lurking around. Your mother already has an idea that you have a crush..."
"Oh, no..." Katja groaned, trying to drop her head but finding herself held upright by Kitty's hand on her ponytail.
"Just take a deep breath, okay?" Katja nodded in Kitty's grasp. "Okay. It's not going to be so bad...if your sisters tease you, just ask me something random about America or some junk. I can talk forever if I have to!"
"Danke, Kitty," Katja sighed. "Oh, my face is so red!"
"Don't worry about it! You'll be fine as soon as you calm down a little..." She followed Katja out into the hall and back into the kitchen.
"Katzchen," Kurt said as they entered, "these are the Rasputins... Nikolai," an older man with slightly graying hair shook her hand fervently, "Ekaterina," he said, and a slight woman with bright red hair took Kitty's hand.
"Really? My real name is Aikaterine! Nice to meet you... And you're Sergei, right?" she asked as if she didn't know, turning to greet the teenager, slightly taller than her but not by much. His large blue eyes bespoke a bad case of nerves and his pulse jumped visibly in his neck. He knew that she had seen him kissing Katja earlier and was visibly afraid that Kitty would say something. "Nice to meet you, too!"
"Don't forget the last one!" Astrid said, nodding to a spot behind Kitty.
Kitty turned and was confronted with the tallest person she had ever seen in her life. She stared directly at the lowest button on his chest before she craned her neck to look up. "You're big," she said dumbly.
"Kitty," Kurt said with a trace of a laugh, "this is their cousin, of sorts..."
The tall man laughed at Kitty's agog expression and swept her a cavalier bow worthy of Kurt's best efforts. "Piotr Nikoleivitch Rasputin. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

Magneto coughed against the back of his hand, a bone-rattling sound that threatened to topple the visibly frail man. "Give it to me!" he snapped to the teenager attending him.
"Are you sure this won't make things worse?" Pietro asked nervously. He swayed on his feet, not sure how much more blood he could lose before he fainted himself, but willing to give it all if he had to, to show his father that he was worthy of leadership, to prove just how far he could and would go to ensure the survival of the Brotherhood.
"Has it so far?" Magneto asked with a trace of dryness in his voice. "Do we have any more vials of blood?"
"Two...is that enough for now?"
Magneto was tempted to say no, roll up your sleeve, but he saw how pale his son was, a disturbing whey color rather than his usual nearly-normal tone. "That should be fine." He pushed his sleeve up and held out his arm for Pietro to insert the thick needle. In a nearly dreamy voice, he said, "I wish we could have made use of that Pryde girl. It would save your strength to have her blood."
"If we could get that doctor of yours to find a way to make this work with any blood, not just that from your line, that would be even better," Pietro grumbled, a wave of nausea overtaking him. Carefully, he mixed a portion of the white powder from the plastic bag in with the vials of blood and a carrier solution before pouring it all into an old-fashioned glass IV bottle. Wincing as he did it, Pietro slid the needle into a fragile vein in Magneto's arm. "It's in."
"Thank you. I had no idea," Magneto drawled. His illness had made demonstrations of temper very difficult of late, but his treatments were helping, thanks to Pietro's blood and the ingenuity of a rather crooked doctor who quite liked my money, no matter what it funded or where it came from. "There's something I've been saving to tell you until I had confirmation. We may have a new donor."
"Really?" he asked, trying not to sound too enthusiastic. _If I act like I don't feel honored, he'll think I can't lead the group. He'll think I don't want him to win this war... _
"A Russian. Quite an interesting mutant...very strong in body and mutation. The good doctor thinks that we may be able to use less of your blood if we added...well, it's a lot of medical talk. Let's just say that you'll get some color back soon."
"Did he...did he volunteer?" The idea roused a tendril of jealous in Pietro's gut.
"Not yet...I've arranged passage for him to the states with the Pryde girl and her boyfriend. He thinks that he is going to meet someer mer mutants seeking help. Well, I suppose, in a manner of speaking, he is!" Magneto laughed weakly.
Pietro frowned. "What do you mean, arranged passage?"
"Xavier and his...followers...think they are clever. It is no difficult task to ascertain travel plans in this day and age, even with all the increased government security. The opportunity presented itself and I took it. This mutant will travel with them back to the states where he will meet Xavier and his students. You will present yourself as a wayward soul, willing to be taken into their folds and then..."
"Briar patch."3
"You're learning, son...you're learning.



1 Go fuck yourself (in Latin).
2 Oh, you can guess who's showing up by now, can't you?
3 A trap