Title: Letters Home Author: Chi Oujo Rating: Um, borderline PG-13 Warnings: Light swearing, slash, the kind of angst that one can only feel when one's parent has abandoned you. Disclaimer: Bobby, Hank, Norton McCoy and the X-men are copyrighted to Marvel. I simply own the story and little Medea. I'd be more than glad to let anyone who wants to borrow her do so. Just ask first, okay? Archive: Oh, yes, please *puppy eyes* Just let me know where you're taking it Sequel/Sister story: In Progress Feedback: Is like water to a man lost in the desert *********************************************************************** The TV was white noise blaring in the background as he stared, blatantly stared, at the pile of mail in front of him. Letters that he'd never bothered to look at from a son he didn't want to think about. Pictures of a granddaughter he'd otherwise never seen and truly didn't care to see, or at least had convinced himself of such. Where had he gone wrong? Weren't they just two God fearing Americans who only wanted what was best for their only child? It was bad enough that his boy had to be extremely different. Too strong, too agile, and now he was too animalistic, cursed by his damnedable mutation to live his life as a blue furred beast. But he had still been their little boy, their only child. And now he was lost to them. He looked once more at the address of the envelope, the school he wished he had never heard of, before ripping it open again. Trying to make sense, for what had to be the thousandth time in the last year or so, of the mess that had started this all The scrawl was sloppily done, the same kind birthed of the estatic haste his boy could pull off just as easily and often. The twenty year old must have been a bundle of worry and nerves when he sent out this letter. ***** (June 18, 2000) Dear Mr. McCoy: I never thought I'd be writing to you, seeing as how most parents tend to visit the Institute on a fairly regular basis. I know we've only known each other for a few months, and we've only met once, but Hank gushes about you. I've heard all about the time you built Hank a tree house, and how great his mother's cooking is. The incident the Halloween before Hank came to the mansion is also pricelessly retold when the season comes upon us. I've come to think of you as just another part of the uniquely extended family the X-men have created. Kinda like how my own parents have warmly embraced him. As Hank has probably told you, at least I sorta hope he did, we went to dinner with my parents the other night. Perhaps you'd like to visit so you could meet them? They really wanna meet the person who helped raise their favorite one of my teammates. Heck, he spends so much time with my family they've come to see him as just another son for them to dote on. Actually, to them, he is. You see, Mr. McCoy, there's no easy way to sugar coat what I'm about to tell you. As much as Hank has begged me to be gentle with you. Mr. McCoy, you have a lovely son. Hank and I have been a couple for quite awhile, and we've just been waiting for the right time to tell you. I'm hoping this was the right time. I know that sounds odd but I mean it with all of my being. I'm deeply in love with Hank and it was my idea to let you know of our relationship. I know this sounds cheerily old fashioned, but I'm asking for your blessing on our union. I'll sleep much easier knowing I'm not causing Hank any problems. Thank you Robert Drake. PS Hank wants to know if you plan on attending our Fourth of July spectacular that Jubes has taken to creating every year. I think it would, hopefully, be a great way for you to get to know the in-laws He said he would call you and extend the invitation himself but some lab culture or another has been giving him problems. I rarely see him anymore and we share the same room. ***** ***** (July 6, 2000) Dear Father: While I understand your lack of enthusiasm at my arrangement with Robert, I feel what you said was overtly harsh. To assume that my love for Robert is based solely upon the fact he is the only person who could truly love a beast was unfounded and rude. To say so aloud, in front of my surrogate family, was truly vile on your part. The Drakes are still fairly upset over the entirety of the incident. Robert's younger sister, the lovely brunette teenager who clung to my paws during your tirade, has been staying at the mansion. She's suffered a great deal of insomnia, with much thanks on your part, of which I am trying to remedy. I regret to inform you that your scene at our Independence celebration was strongly uncalled for. It has been deemed by my house mates that you are no longer welcomed on our pristine grounds until you so choose to make amends. I do hope it shall be soon. Sincerely, Henry McCoy PS Give my regards to mother. I'm sorry I upset her in such a manner. ***** ***** (September 23, 2000) Dear Father: In your response, or lack there of, to my last letter I have taken it upon myself to assume you care not for my mate or I. More's the pity. I would be a liar called if I wrote this letter under friendly pretense. Robert has been withholding several aspects of our relationship from my person until I rebuild our burnt bridges, or at least make an attempt. Suffice to say I shall be purchasing a larger couch for I feel I'll be spending many a night in our living room. You, as I already have, may be pondering why my love cares for you in our life. If mother has not already informed you, then it is my place to spill the proverbial beans. Robert and I wish to become parents. Suffice to say we lack to equipment for normal child birth. Thus our application for the adoption of a mutant child has been placed. Storm and Jean have both also offered us the option of surrogacy. Robert, whether the child be of our biology or our hearts, is insistent upon the basis that the infant would need to know all of its family. You are included in the ranks of what he considers family. To punish a child for, what you claim are, the mistakes of the parents is ludicrous. Please reconsider your position if only for any of my future offspring. Sincerely, Henry Drake McCoy ***** ***** (March 21, 2001) Dear Mr. McCoy: I'm sorry you weren't home earlier today when we called to inform you of the latest addition to the Drake McCoy family, Medea Drake McCoy! Can you believe it!? Hank and I now have a daughter of our very own! I know all new parents must say this, but our little girl was truly a blessing from God. I feel terrible that her mutant mother died and that her human father didn't want her but it was his loss. I think Medea was created just for me and Hank. I've seen her mother and her coloring is nothing like her. Medea's mother has been a patient of Hank's for the duration of her pregnancy so the father, knowing of our quest for adoption, signed all of the parental rights over to us. I couldn't believe him. He took one look at our precious girl and shoved her back into Hank's arms muttering something about damnable cats. Apparently it was one thing for him to marry a mutant but another entirely to have a mutant daughter. Of course, the mother was a Homo Superior Lycanthropis Tigris Tigris, meaning a type of were cat who can shift her shape to look like a normal human. She looked kinda like a humanoid Siberian tiger when in her mutated state. Medea is Homo Superior Tigris Tigris, the same type of mutantcy as Hank has. She looks like a bipedal tiger and won't be able to shift into a humanesque form unless that proves to be her power. Medea, as I've said before, was just made for me and Hank. Her fur is this beautiful icy blue that Hank thinks will darken over time. I'm hoping at least part of it will stay that color. Her stripes are this luscious blonde that Hank swears matches my own hair perfectly. I don't know what we did to deserve her but I swear I'll do it for the rest of my life to keep her. Mr. McCoy, won't you please reconsider how you think of Hank and I as a couple? My parents just love him to death and even insisted that they move into the mansion so they could help us with Medea. I might as well confess that we offered the same thing to Mrs. McCoy but she's against it unless you come with her. Right at this moment my daughter is six hours old and I can already see the signs my parents are spoiling her in those little blue eyes. Thanks! Robert Drake McCoy PS What do you think of the name Medea? It was Hank's idea. Named after some enchantingly strong sorceress or tragic goddess. Personally I can only name the tricksters of any one mythological era. But I doubt Hank would want to name her Coyote or Loki, though Puck could be a good name. Robin is a girl's name, right? ***** ***** (April 1, 2001) Dear Father: Nothing like hearing from the proverbial wayward son to top off a truly momentous April Fools' Day. My dearest Robert was out in full force today, this being his holiday Du Jor. I'm sure the dye will wash out of Medea's lovely pelt in no time at all. The next time mother presents you with a picture of my darling ball of fur she'll have lavender stripes instead of blonde. Apparently Robert thought I would look stunning with highlights. He also managed to confuse my specially blended jasmine oil fur shampoo with the baby's lavender oil pelt rinse. And for further reference, a robin is a bird. Cats eat birds. My daughter is a feline lycanthrope, in essence she may well eat birds once her milk teeth have been replaced. Let mother know she should thank her lucky stars and garters that I was not in possession of said milk teeth in my own infancy, by the way. They're quite sharp and Medea knows how to use them. Now, next time Robert suggest an absurd name please do not encourage it. I know your red blooded Americanism is partially to blame for your sudden interest in Robert and I's child and the name with which we bestowed upon her. Thank you, and kudos to you for at least attempting to be pleasant in our conversation last week. Robert has informed me to tell you he sends his love. Thought the glut of that love belongs to Medea and myself. Should I add a possessive growl at the end to emphasize my point? Sincerely, Henry Drake McCoy ***** The photograph reflected the light fairly well as it was raised for inspection. Obviously taken by a timed camera, Hank was the bundle of blue fur caught in mid stride to his spot next to a slightly younger man's side. There was the ever mirthful Robert, holding a wide eyed bundle that indeed looked like Hank. And damn those boys' souls if her stripes weren't purple. Thankfully she had grown out of that additional exotic color within a month's time. A second photograph, taken a month later, joined the first under his careful gaze. Little Medea on the floor of the medical bay. A furry, blue leg just barely caught in the picture appears to be her target as she is caught in mid crawl. An impish grin full of tiny, sharp teeth attached to the little girl. True to Hank's word, her fur had begun to darken somewhat. A tear, so very unbidden on a man of his nature, rolled down his cheek as he sat the earliest photos he had of his lovely little granddaughter down. ***** (June 21, 2001) Dear Mr. McCoy: Please ignore the sheer amount of eclecticness I'm sure is being poured into this letter but.....My little girl is three months old! My little girl is three months old and she is officially ours! My little girl is three months old, the court has finally fully recognized her as Hank and I's, and she said Dada today! I ask you, Mr. McCoy, could there be anything more right in this world than a child who loves and is unconditionally loved? Hank's giving me that look again. I'm sure you've seen the look I'm talking about. The seriously brooding, why do I love you, look. It could be because I'm joyously dancing around the room with Medea clinging to me like a limpet. Or it may just be the fact I joyously dance with Medea every time she calls me dada. Hank has been designated Ki'y. I think she's trying to say kitty. Yeah, I know, what's a three month old doing talking? As far as Hank can figure it out lycanthropes, mutants who look more animalistic than human, have accelerated metabolisms that cause expeditious progression in the infant stages. Okay, now I sound like Hank. Basically it means she's going through a rapid growth spurt and will continue it until her body decides to slow down. She's going to be a holy terror when she can walk and, considering some of the more interesting language she's picked up from watching the team's Danger Room sessions, outcuss most of us at a year old. I can't help but wonder what the future will be like for my furry angels. More and more mutants are being born or mutating into lycanthropes. Fur and fangs, wings and tails, none of them are all that uncommon anymore. That doesn't mean people hate them any less. The other night Hank took me out to dinner, leaving Meads, as we sometimes call her, with my parents. Just the two of us with no image inducer to hide the blue fur I really can't remember Hank ever not having. I made him take it off. I made him. That's another thing about our relationship no one seems to get. They think Hank pities his poor little pet project Bobby. They think he loves me because he can't find anyone else. And they think I love him because no one else would want me. Poor Bobby and Hank stay with each other because they can't have anyone else. What did the song say? If you can't have the one you want then love the one you're with? Well, we have the ones we want and we love the ones we're with. I prefer to see the beauty inside the beast. Those warm blue eyes that bore into my soul. The feel of velvety soft fur as it grazes my shoulders when he pulls me into a hug first thing in the morning. Just knowing that he's going to be there for me no matter what. For me and for Medea. The other night at dinner I kissed him. Just a simple, little, chaste, kiss with closed mouths that lasted for about one half a second. That's all you need in this world to get some people going. Hank now has a slash on his arm where that FOH bastard at the next table lunged at him with a knife. A homophobe and a mutiphobe, not one of our better dates. And WE were the ones to be asked to leave! I'm sorry to bring this up with you, Mr. McCoy, but you still have a son. A son who's going through a lot right now and needs your love more than anything. But he needs my love as well, and I won't deny him that to make other people happy. Sincerely, Robert Drake McCoy PS. To answer your last letter, yes Drake McCoy is, and has been for quite awhile, legally Hank and I's last name. ***** That had been the last letter they sent him. Or maybe it was the last letter they sent before he started marking them with return to sender stamps. He couldn't take it, take the thought of his son being in love with that effeminate icicle. He would actually lay money on the fact that it had been that Robert child's idea all along. He glared at the damnable screen of the TV, the reason he had even bothered to get out letters he'd rather forget. The news anchor replayed the top highlight of the evning, and what was sure to be one of the major stories for the good part of a week, once more. His boy had been trying to give a speech on his latest findings on the mysterious X-factor. Those rotten FOH bastards threw anything they could get their hands on. Little Medea, looking even more like one of the boys had been her mother than she did as an infant, screamed in that keening wail of hers as she clung to her father's leg. Hank tried valiently to shield her from the worst of it. It looked like a God damned, war-zone complete with Robert as a knight in shining armor. The highlight reel ended as Robert built a wall of solid ice around his family to protect them. A sigh encompassed the room as the screen darkened. Was it even possible, after all this time that they'd spent apart, to mend the fence with his son? Was his only child, that he desperately missed, lost to him forever? There was only one way to find out. *************************** "Medea, if you don't stop that right now young lady," Bobby let the threat hang in the air as he tried to figure the best way to get his toddler off of the chandelier without Hank's help. She blew a raspberry towards him, clinging from the bottom most rung of the expensive crystal structure by her tail. He glared at the phone, wishing once again that he wasn't the only adult in the house on this particular day. Icing up, he flew over the railing, hoping to reach the damnedable machine before whoever it was hung up. To his great surprise, Medea squealed in delight and dropped into his arms as he raced past her. Cradling the child, all the while preparing the lecture he'd be giving to her, he made a grab for the phone. "Hello, Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, Bobby speaking. How may I help you," he tried to sound professional as Medea squirmed around in his grasp. "Hello, Robert was it? This is Norton McCoy and I was just calling to see how all of you are." The phone clattered to the tile in surprise. ***** Eep *ducks flying projectiles* so how did everyone like it? Good? Bad? Stick to my usual style of writing (letters are admittably not my forte)? And to clear things up. Medea was a year old at the conference and she came with Hank because A) They had hidden her from the public long enough and B) They couldn't get a babysitter that day (You try finding a babysitter for a kid who can artfully escape and hide from anyone who isn't dada, Ki'y, and the grandparents). The sister story should clear up the things that were left out of this one (like the confrontation at the Fourth of July picnic and the reason Norton McCoy stopped replying to his son and son-in-law). There is, after all, only so much you can say in a letter. I know Mr. McCoy and Hank get along smashingly and it's actually Bobby's father that would cause a problem but I see it as this, Mr. McCoy has put up with a lot from his son's mutation, he's been fairly supportive, but do you really think he'd jump for joy at the thought of his son bedding the Iceman? To answer another question, they kept writing because A) Hank was still in his mother's good graces and B) They knew they would eventually wear Norton down...as seen in the last lines of the story. I hope that cleared everything up. Dania's Darling Drayan, Chi-oujo Oh, and recently Beast said he may be gay in New X-men 125 and semi confirmed it in 131. If you'd like to see Marvel continue this story line visit http://www.PetitionPetition.com/cgi/petition.cgi?id=4520 and sign the petition.