Hina: I know this is an X-Men fanfic and not a ThunderCats fanfic like some of my usual readers like to read, but I promise more TC fanfictions will be coming but for now, enjoy my new work! And also I wanna thank VixL for proofreading this the other day! And to anyone who reads this in general, thank you! Your support is much appreciated.


Chapter 1

A loud rumbling wakes Chelsea Xavier up from her nearly peaceful slumber. Her sun colored, blonde hair falls over one shoulder and cascades in a golden mass that barely touches her back and her blue, ocean colored eyes fill with fright at seeing a white streak of lightning flash across the velvety black sky.

Another rumble makes the twenty-year-old whimper.

The bed shifts under the weight of the body beside her and arms slip around her waist to draw her closer while lips brush against her bare shoulder.

"Come on, Chels...it's just a little storm. It'll blow over," A gentle male voice says, whispering quiet words of comfort.

"I know, Warren, but…" Chelsea begins hesitantly but gets cut off by yet another growl of thunder.

Chelsea buries her face into the blonde male, who is no older than twenty-three. He is her husband: Warren Worthington Jr. Protruding from his back are a pair of massive, beautiful white wings. They act as extra limbs and sit beneath the couple like a cushion. Warren doesn't like covering them up unless he is forced to hide them. Which was something he had to do because of his father when he was younger, Warren would tuck his wings away in an uncomfortable back harness. But now he lets his wings be open and free for the most part. He has even taken to the skies more than once with them. It is an experience that he's also shared numerous times with his wife: Chelsea Xavier.

Warren feels Chelsea's body tremble beneath his fingertips. He knows she is scared, but for some reason, he doesn't think it is because of the thunderstorm that is raging outside. Instead, he has this feeling that she is trembling about something else.

Warren takes her face into his hands.

"Chelsea, what's going on?" He asks her adamantly.

He brings his wings forward to cover the two of them like a shield. He wants her to feel protected and safe. The feathers of the bird-like wings tickle Chelsea as their tips touch her skin. The flashing lightning makes shadows dance across her face.

Tears glisten in her eyes as she slowly brings her trembling lips to rest on top of his.

"Chelsea…," Warren whispers in concern.

For the past few months, there has been a strange change in Chelsea's behavior which caused a shift in her emotions. Warren knew that his wife had empathic abilities, which meant that Chelsea could sense the emotions of others and sometimes it greatly affected her to a point where negative emotions could stay trapped inside of her for a long period of time. In fact, they had been together for so long that Chelsea had established a psychic connection with him. Which meant that Warren could sense some of the things she was feeling due to their close bond.

Chelsea closes her eyes and draws in a shaky breath.

"The storm isn't bothering me, Warren," She says quietly.

"Chelsea...Whatever it is, you can tell me," Warren assures her.

Her long blonde hair falls over her eyes. She looks away from him and instead to the picture on top of their dresser. In the picture is Chelsea with her father: Professor Charles Xavier. As she stares at the picture a faint memory comes back to her of a time with her father...and her mother.

She sees her mother's smiling face and hears the Professor's happy laughter.

"Why am I thinking about my mother?" She thinks to herself.

It has been years since she has thought of the woman that gave birth to her or the time when her parents were together.

When...they were a family.

Why?

Why is she thinking about her parents?

Why is she thinking about the past?

It's not like there is anything she can do to change it.

So, why?

Why now of all times?

"Chels?" Warren asks gingerly, waiting for her reply.

He also turns his attention to the picture that his wife is staring at and tries to gauge what could be going through her head. Sometimes he wishes he had been born telepathic so he could secretly read Chelsea's mind when she sinks into her own thoughts.

Chelsea finally turns her head back to look at Warren. She places her hand over his.

"I don't know why, but lately...I've been thinking about...her," She says softly.

Warren glances at the photograph once more before responding.

"About who?" He asks, but he already knows.

However, he learned long ago to give Chelsea time to gather her thoughts so she won't get overwhelmed with emotions. Her empathic powers can often go beyond her control. So, Warren has mastered the ability to remain calm.

"My mother," She whispers softly, " I don't know why, but I started thinking about her all of a sudden. Even though it's been years since I've thought about her and possibly even longer since I've heard from her."

Warren isn't surprised that Chelsea is thinking about Professor Xavier's ex-wife. But he still feels intrigued because it is rare for Chelsea to bring her up, let alone anything in relation to her past. The Professor had told Warren in private after he and Chelsea's wedding day that the topic of Chelsea's mother is a painful one for her. Warren reaches for Chelsea, wraps his arms around her waist, and pulls her into his lap as he remembers Professor Xavier's words.

"Chels, you know you don't have to talk about her if you don't want to," He whispers into her ear.

Her husband's actions cause Chelsea to break out into goosebumps and chills spread through her as she feels his lips on her skin again.

She gently strokes his arms with the tips of her fingers. She knows he is worried about her and his underlying concern in his actions makes her feel… calmer and less afraid of the emotions that are within her.

"I… know, but… I think I need to talk about her." She replies quietly.

Warren squeezes her middle softly and rests his chin on her shoulder. He gets a surprise when she asks him the last question he thought she would ever ask.

"Do you miss your mother, Angel?"