Fic - "Hestia" (3/7)
Title: Hestia (3/7)
Summary: Azazel and Riptide retire from the Brotherhood, with Magneto’s blessing. This multi-chaptered story chronicles their life together on their houseboat over a period of ten years. We will see a wedding, a birth, the relationship getting into trouble and getting out of it, and more. Angel, Mystique, Magneto and others will make appearances.
Word count: All together, the word count for the seven chapters comes to 16,000. Each chapter is around 3,000 words.
Rating: R
Pairing: Azazel/Riptide
Disclaimer: I don’t own X-men, or Azazel or Riptide, unfortunately.
Previous Chapters:
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Hestia - Chapter Three
1966, Continued
Riptide endured the longest 24 hours that he could recall, alone on Sparta. He considered cleaning the vessel from top to bottom. He eventually considered preparing something to eat but had no appetite whatsoever. He forced himself to attempt a nap but couldn’t quite reach the serene state he needed in order to fall asleep. After not long, Riptide stopped trying to create diversions for himself and just tried to breathe, letting each agonizing minute pass slowly. He lay starting up at the ceiling and counting his breaths. He looked at his watch every few minutes, silently noting how long it had been since Azazel left.
Almost exactly 24 hours after his departure, Azazel reappeared. Riptide heard him before he saw him. Azazel materialized on the deck.
“I’m sorry,” Riptide moaned, leaping out of bed and rushing towards Azazel. He hugged him, hoping he would not be rebuffed. “I’m so sorry and I promise I won’t do it again! Forgive me, Azazel, please.” He buried his face against Azazel’s shoulder.
Riptide was relieved to feel that Azazel returned the embrace. They held each other for a long time, Riptide repeating his apology once more. He expected Azazel, after several long moments, to step out of the hug but he did not. Riptide finally initiated its ending, backing away.
“Please say you are back. For good,” Riptide asked.
“I am.” Azazel cupped Riptide’s chin. “You were always more brave one, Janos. Even now you were first to admit that you need me, but it is the same with me. I need you too,” Azazel said, his words soft and his eyes caring.
“I also want to say,” Azazel began again, now smoothing Riptide’s collar, “that you were right, Janos. It was wrong of me to tell you that you should not have done that, because of what I have done with Mystique and Angel over the years.”
Riptide’s mouth opened. He digested that, and then said, “And you were also right, Azazel. I should have asked you before instead of just assuming it would be okay.”
Azazel nodded. “I have idea. Let us not do this again. I have had my fun with Mystique and Angel but I will be satisfied with you and one else, for the rest of my life. Let us no longer be with others.”
Riptide pulled Azazel back into a hug, “That is a wonderful idea. Maybe we just needed to ‘get it out of our system’, as they say. Now we can be done with it.”
“Yes. No one else compares to you.”
“It is the same for me. You are the only one I love.”
***
1967
Angel’s baby was born during one of the coldest Januarys she had ever experienced. Azazel’s stolen cash at least allowed her into a clean and well-maintained hospital, though every doctor and nurse eyed Angel as if she were a bloated piece of garbage. Whether it was due to the color of her skin, her lack of a husband, or partly due to what they assumed were her tattoos, Angel didn’t know or care. A disguised Mystique was permitted to stay by her side.
If the prospect of labor and delivery did not cause enough anxiety, Angel and Mystique feared the moment the baby would appear. What would the child of two mutants look like? Given their connections, they had heard rumors of the existence of children who had two mutant parents. One rumor maintained that they bore - at birth - whatever odd physical characteristics their parents possessed. Neither woman had ever met a second-generation mutant though. Would the hospital staff harm the baby?
When the baby was finally pushed out, Angel had been enduring intense pain for nearly 30 hours and was utterly exhausted. She did not have an iota of energy left to fret about the appearance of the baby. A sweaty Mystique, however, finally exhaled. She may have been proud of being a mutant but Mystique still hoped for no trouble at the hospital. The baby looked normal.
***
Azazel and Riptide were never easy to get a hold of, but Magneto’s resources were becoming vast and he now had better tracking equipment. Mystique found herself on a boat, speeding towards the location where she believed Sparta currently sailed. She found the two men after several hours.
“Mystique! What is wrong?” Azazel asked. The look on the young woman’s face and the persistence it would have taken to locate Sparta made it obvious that all was not well.
“You might not believe this,” Mystique said, the moment after Azazel and Riptide stepped aboard her vessel. “But you have to listen to this - we need you. We--”
Mystique was cut off by the sound of a baby wailing. Azazel and Riptide exchanged a shocked look when they took stock of the small bundle alongside Mystique.
***
Angel had not taken to motherhood. The baby never slept for more than two hours consecutively. Angel was overwhelmed by the assortment of things the baby needed: formula, diapers, clothing, blankets, bottles. And she had no time to plan or think on her sleep-deprived brain, no money apart from what Magneto gave her. The Brotherhood’s cavernous headquarters - filled with rough, callous men - was no place for a baby either.
Unsurprisingly, the Brotherhood members were not helping much. Mystique did what she could, but she didn’t know much about babies either and never envisioned herself becoming a mother. She had no love lost for the baby’s constant wails either. Magneto was not heartless, but this was a really bad time for one of his soldiers to be distracted. The Brotherhood was making great strides, Magneto starting to believe that with a few more pushes they could eliminate the X-men and gain the power they needed.
With each passing day, Angel believed that the baby would be better off with Azazel given that he was the father, and she begged one more favor of Mystique: to track down Azazel and Riptide.
***
Azazel stood blinking, looking at Riptide as Riptide held the tiny creature swaddled in blankets. Azazel was nearing 50 years of age and had to admit that his life had taken many unpredictable twists and turns over the decades. He should be at a point now where little could surprise him, but he still felt his head swim for a bit at the sight of Riptide holding his daughter. ‘You are a father now,’ he told himself.
“What is her name?” he asked Mystique.
“She doesn’t have really one,” Mystique admitted, with a tilt of her head. “Angel’s just been calling her ‘baby’.”
“Baby?” Riptide echoed, his eyebrows raised towards the sky. “That will never do.”
“I agree,” Azazel said sternly. “We will give her name.”
Mystique exhaled. She then looked around. “So, this is everything then. You’ll be teleporting into drug stores a lot because the formula goes really fast. And you’ll be doing a ton of laundry thanks to her diapers. Basically, she eats, poops, and cries. And sleeps, but not much.” She handed them one other item. “Here’s a book about how to raise a baby. I don’t think Angel ever opened it though - she’s so tired, hasn’t slept much since before the baby was born -- but maybe it will help.”
Azazel nodded. He surprised himself then by verbalizing his thoughts, “Well, at least this is just temporary.”
“Yes,” Mystique agreed.
Mystique had conveyed Angel’s wishes to Azazel and Riptide. She had requested that they keep the baby safe just for a year or so. Magneto firmly believed, Mystique said, that the Brotherhood would soon take over. When things settled down, Angel would return for her daughter. Azazel and Riptide had agreed to this temporary arrangement.
When Mystique departed, Azazel sat down and looked around. Sparta’s guest room was now crammed full with the baby’s belongings. The bottles and formula he would move to the kitchen.
“How about the name Marina?” Riptide asked, still sitting, holding the baby. “It sounds good to my Spanish ears and I think it is a named used in Russia, yes?”
“Yes,” Azazel agreed. For a moment his head swam and made an effort to focus his vision. He silently mouthed the name. “Yes, I like it. It reminds me of water, of the sea.”
“Do you want to hold her?” Riptide asked.
“Yes,” Azazel said.
Riptide slowly rose and delivered the baby into Azazel’s arms. He looked down at the tiny bundle in his arms. Marina’s skin was pale, though her full lips and wide nose boasted of her mother’s distant African ancestry. Black curls crowned her head. Her eyes were clear blue, making Azazel wonder if she had inherited them from him.
“Are you really the father, do you think?” Riptide asked, in tune with Azazel’s ruminations.
Azazel kept his gaze on the baby. “I don’t know. Mystique said that Angel said that is so, and that I was only one she was with during that time.”
“It is still hard to say though,” Riptide said. His gaze was also fixed on Marina. “This is Angel we are talking about, former stripper…and worse.”
Once the words were out, Riptide regretted them. Angel had been a good friend to them and it somehow felt disloyal to bring up her sordid past and question her honesty. Riptide considered saying more, retracting some of his words, but instead closed his mouth.
But Azazel didn’t seem to notice. He kept looking at Marina. Riptide slowly moved over and planted a kiss on the side of Azazel’s face.
“I suppose there is no way to say for sure,” Azazel mused. “But I think her eyes are mine.”
“I think so too. I know that many babies have blue eyes and they change color later. But I believe those eyes are yours.”
Riptide walked to the pile of supplies Mystique had left and again began to take stock of them. “I’m glad for this,” he continued. “Thank you for agreeing to it. I do not think that taking care of her will be easy, but I think we can do it. You know I had five sisters and brothers, and three of them were younger than me. I had plenty of cousins too. I know a little about this. I changed diapers before, believe it or not,” he added, picking up a stack of the haphazardly folded cloth diapers. A half-empty box of safety pins sat alongside them.
“I can believe it. I remember you once tell me you would like this, like to have baby,” Azazel began, slowly and quietly. “I think I do not realize how much you really want this until I see you with her just now.”
Riptide reached over to kiss him again.
At that point, Marina began to cry. For such a tiny package, her wails were loud and demanding.
“Do you want me to take her?” Riptide asked, at the same time that Azazel said, “We need rocking chair.”
TO BE CONTINUED
Chapter Four now posted!
Summary: Azazel and Riptide retire from the Brotherhood, with Magneto’s blessing. This multi-chaptered story chronicles their life together on their houseboat over a period of ten years. We will see a wedding, a birth, the relationship getting into trouble and getting out of it, and more. Angel, Mystique, Magneto and others will make appearances.
Word count: All together, the word count for the seven chapters comes to 16,000. Each chapter is around 3,000 words.
Rating: R
Pairing: Azazel/Riptide
Disclaimer: I don’t own X-men, or Azazel or Riptide, unfortunately.
Previous Chapters:
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Hestia - Chapter Three
1966, Continued
Riptide endured the longest 24 hours that he could recall, alone on Sparta. He considered cleaning the vessel from top to bottom. He eventually considered preparing something to eat but had no appetite whatsoever. He forced himself to attempt a nap but couldn’t quite reach the serene state he needed in order to fall asleep. After not long, Riptide stopped trying to create diversions for himself and just tried to breathe, letting each agonizing minute pass slowly. He lay starting up at the ceiling and counting his breaths. He looked at his watch every few minutes, silently noting how long it had been since Azazel left.
Almost exactly 24 hours after his departure, Azazel reappeared. Riptide heard him before he saw him. Azazel materialized on the deck.
“I’m sorry,” Riptide moaned, leaping out of bed and rushing towards Azazel. He hugged him, hoping he would not be rebuffed. “I’m so sorry and I promise I won’t do it again! Forgive me, Azazel, please.” He buried his face against Azazel’s shoulder.
Riptide was relieved to feel that Azazel returned the embrace. They held each other for a long time, Riptide repeating his apology once more. He expected Azazel, after several long moments, to step out of the hug but he did not. Riptide finally initiated its ending, backing away.
“Please say you are back. For good,” Riptide asked.
“I am.” Azazel cupped Riptide’s chin. “You were always more brave one, Janos. Even now you were first to admit that you need me, but it is the same with me. I need you too,” Azazel said, his words soft and his eyes caring.
“I also want to say,” Azazel began again, now smoothing Riptide’s collar, “that you were right, Janos. It was wrong of me to tell you that you should not have done that, because of what I have done with Mystique and Angel over the years.”
Riptide’s mouth opened. He digested that, and then said, “And you were also right, Azazel. I should have asked you before instead of just assuming it would be okay.”
Azazel nodded. “I have idea. Let us not do this again. I have had my fun with Mystique and Angel but I will be satisfied with you and one else, for the rest of my life. Let us no longer be with others.”
Riptide pulled Azazel back into a hug, “That is a wonderful idea. Maybe we just needed to ‘get it out of our system’, as they say. Now we can be done with it.”
“Yes. No one else compares to you.”
“It is the same for me. You are the only one I love.”
***
1967
Angel’s baby was born during one of the coldest Januarys she had ever experienced. Azazel’s stolen cash at least allowed her into a clean and well-maintained hospital, though every doctor and nurse eyed Angel as if she were a bloated piece of garbage. Whether it was due to the color of her skin, her lack of a husband, or partly due to what they assumed were her tattoos, Angel didn’t know or care. A disguised Mystique was permitted to stay by her side.
If the prospect of labor and delivery did not cause enough anxiety, Angel and Mystique feared the moment the baby would appear. What would the child of two mutants look like? Given their connections, they had heard rumors of the existence of children who had two mutant parents. One rumor maintained that they bore - at birth - whatever odd physical characteristics their parents possessed. Neither woman had ever met a second-generation mutant though. Would the hospital staff harm the baby?
When the baby was finally pushed out, Angel had been enduring intense pain for nearly 30 hours and was utterly exhausted. She did not have an iota of energy left to fret about the appearance of the baby. A sweaty Mystique, however, finally exhaled. She may have been proud of being a mutant but Mystique still hoped for no trouble at the hospital. The baby looked normal.
***
Azazel and Riptide were never easy to get a hold of, but Magneto’s resources were becoming vast and he now had better tracking equipment. Mystique found herself on a boat, speeding towards the location where she believed Sparta currently sailed. She found the two men after several hours.
“Mystique! What is wrong?” Azazel asked. The look on the young woman’s face and the persistence it would have taken to locate Sparta made it obvious that all was not well.
“You might not believe this,” Mystique said, the moment after Azazel and Riptide stepped aboard her vessel. “But you have to listen to this - we need you. We--”
Mystique was cut off by the sound of a baby wailing. Azazel and Riptide exchanged a shocked look when they took stock of the small bundle alongside Mystique.
***
Angel had not taken to motherhood. The baby never slept for more than two hours consecutively. Angel was overwhelmed by the assortment of things the baby needed: formula, diapers, clothing, blankets, bottles. And she had no time to plan or think on her sleep-deprived brain, no money apart from what Magneto gave her. The Brotherhood’s cavernous headquarters - filled with rough, callous men - was no place for a baby either.
Unsurprisingly, the Brotherhood members were not helping much. Mystique did what she could, but she didn’t know much about babies either and never envisioned herself becoming a mother. She had no love lost for the baby’s constant wails either. Magneto was not heartless, but this was a really bad time for one of his soldiers to be distracted. The Brotherhood was making great strides, Magneto starting to believe that with a few more pushes they could eliminate the X-men and gain the power they needed.
With each passing day, Angel believed that the baby would be better off with Azazel given that he was the father, and she begged one more favor of Mystique: to track down Azazel and Riptide.
***
Azazel stood blinking, looking at Riptide as Riptide held the tiny creature swaddled in blankets. Azazel was nearing 50 years of age and had to admit that his life had taken many unpredictable twists and turns over the decades. He should be at a point now where little could surprise him, but he still felt his head swim for a bit at the sight of Riptide holding his daughter. ‘You are a father now,’ he told himself.
“What is her name?” he asked Mystique.
“She doesn’t have really one,” Mystique admitted, with a tilt of her head. “Angel’s just been calling her ‘baby’.”
“Baby?” Riptide echoed, his eyebrows raised towards the sky. “That will never do.”
“I agree,” Azazel said sternly. “We will give her name.”
Mystique exhaled. She then looked around. “So, this is everything then. You’ll be teleporting into drug stores a lot because the formula goes really fast. And you’ll be doing a ton of laundry thanks to her diapers. Basically, she eats, poops, and cries. And sleeps, but not much.” She handed them one other item. “Here’s a book about how to raise a baby. I don’t think Angel ever opened it though - she’s so tired, hasn’t slept much since before the baby was born -- but maybe it will help.”
Azazel nodded. He surprised himself then by verbalizing his thoughts, “Well, at least this is just temporary.”
“Yes,” Mystique agreed.
Mystique had conveyed Angel’s wishes to Azazel and Riptide. She had requested that they keep the baby safe just for a year or so. Magneto firmly believed, Mystique said, that the Brotherhood would soon take over. When things settled down, Angel would return for her daughter. Azazel and Riptide had agreed to this temporary arrangement.
When Mystique departed, Azazel sat down and looked around. Sparta’s guest room was now crammed full with the baby’s belongings. The bottles and formula he would move to the kitchen.
“How about the name Marina?” Riptide asked, still sitting, holding the baby. “It sounds good to my Spanish ears and I think it is a named used in Russia, yes?”
“Yes,” Azazel agreed. For a moment his head swam and made an effort to focus his vision. He silently mouthed the name. “Yes, I like it. It reminds me of water, of the sea.”
“Do you want to hold her?” Riptide asked.
“Yes,” Azazel said.
Riptide slowly rose and delivered the baby into Azazel’s arms. He looked down at the tiny bundle in his arms. Marina’s skin was pale, though her full lips and wide nose boasted of her mother’s distant African ancestry. Black curls crowned her head. Her eyes were clear blue, making Azazel wonder if she had inherited them from him.
“Are you really the father, do you think?” Riptide asked, in tune with Azazel’s ruminations.
Azazel kept his gaze on the baby. “I don’t know. Mystique said that Angel said that is so, and that I was only one she was with during that time.”
“It is still hard to say though,” Riptide said. His gaze was also fixed on Marina. “This is Angel we are talking about, former stripper…and worse.”
Once the words were out, Riptide regretted them. Angel had been a good friend to them and it somehow felt disloyal to bring up her sordid past and question her honesty. Riptide considered saying more, retracting some of his words, but instead closed his mouth.
But Azazel didn’t seem to notice. He kept looking at Marina. Riptide slowly moved over and planted a kiss on the side of Azazel’s face.
“I suppose there is no way to say for sure,” Azazel mused. “But I think her eyes are mine.”
“I think so too. I know that many babies have blue eyes and they change color later. But I believe those eyes are yours.”
Riptide walked to the pile of supplies Mystique had left and again began to take stock of them. “I’m glad for this,” he continued. “Thank you for agreeing to it. I do not think that taking care of her will be easy, but I think we can do it. You know I had five sisters and brothers, and three of them were younger than me. I had plenty of cousins too. I know a little about this. I changed diapers before, believe it or not,” he added, picking up a stack of the haphazardly folded cloth diapers. A half-empty box of safety pins sat alongside them.
“I can believe it. I remember you once tell me you would like this, like to have baby,” Azazel began, slowly and quietly. “I think I do not realize how much you really want this until I see you with her just now.”
Riptide reached over to kiss him again.
At that point, Marina began to cry. For such a tiny package, her wails were loud and demanding.
“Do you want me to take her?” Riptide asked, at the same time that Azazel said, “We need rocking chair.”
TO BE CONTINUED
Chapter Four now posted!