Starchild

Resting, but Not for Long

Litter? —What? —

—Litter box! That's the name. Who came up with that word? —

There's a knock on the open door; it's Wong, holding a steaming cup. He looks at Maximoff with a neutral face, and he moves aside, inviting him to leave. —Your team is leaving, Quicksilver, and Star needs to rest. —

Maximoff nods, completely changing his manner. —Okay sir, sorry. I was, uh, yeah. —he smiles, —I was leaving. Bye! —this time, he doesn't rush out - he walks normally. We can still hear him from the hall; —Nice house you got! All magic-ey and stuff! —

I chuckle. Wong sighs, rolling his eyes. —Changing topic, I don't understand how Strange let you keep that. —he signals at Django,

—I think you have a say in it, too. If you don't want him here and all. —

—Oh, don't worry, I like cats. Strange is the one who doesn't. He's not a fan of animals. —he leaves the cup, with its little plate under it, on the nightstand. —Drink this, the entire thing. —

The cup is almost filled to the brim, so I carefully grab it and take a sip of it, finding a good warm taste. As I continue drinking the tea, Django stands next to my legs and Wong quietly pets him.

When I'm halfway into the cup, I take a moment to ask, —How did it go? —

—We ended up exorcising everyone, it took about an hour. Very few people were hurt. They were all confused, but since there are two telepaths in the X-Men, they could easily erase their memories. Like what you did before. Keep drinking. —I do so while he continues speaking, —The door was definitely more active than the one at the Vatican, so we decided to do a protective spell on the building. It should keep any demons locked in there. —

I nod, finally finishing the cup. He grabs it from my hands, —Go to sleep now, for at least a few more hours. —

He leaves the room, closing the door behind him. I completely lay back down on the bed.

Django starts crawling onto my stomach, his tiny claws barely latching to the materials of my suit. I change it into something similar to Strange's sleeping robes, and he can successfully move onto me, leaving some small holes on my shirt.

—Hello, boy. —he slowly walks up to my chest, and meows at me, —Too bad I can't understand you. Allspeak should extend to animals, in my opinion. —

I roll over to the side, holding him so he doesn't fall or get squished. Now on the pillow, at my eyes' level, he sits comfortably looking at me.

—Are you going to join me in my nap? That's very nice of you. —I purse my lips at him, and he hits my jaw with his paw, —Okay, that's not very nice. You're a rude little man. —he keeps softly hitting my cheek. It must be the way cats play.

I should just go to sleep. When I close my eyes, Django stops hitting me, and I can hear him settle down next to my face.

—Sweet dreams, Django. —

✩✩✩

I wake up again, and find Django licking my face. His tongue is rougher than I thought it would be. Carefully, I move him away, and look at the window; it's nighttime.

Watching me stand up, he starts meowing again, trying to leave the bed. I grab him, and place him on my shoulder, where he surprisingly stays put. He keeps meowing, —What? Are you hungry or something? —he meows again.

The bag of food is made of some kind of strong paper, which I cannot open with just my hands. I put my hand up - I wonder if the nap worked. I think of one of my daggers and, fortunately, it is conjured in my hand. I'm not too tired anymore. I use the dagger to open the top of the bag and walk over to the food bowl, pouring the pieces there.

Django jumps off my shoulder and goes straight for the food.

—You were hungry. Is the food that good? —making sure I don't interrupt him, I take one of the pieces, and put it in my mouth - oh. —It's not that good- It's definitely not that good. That's terrible, how can you eat that? —

Almost gagging, I end up swallowing the thing, shaking my head to get rid of the flavour. That's the worst food I have ever eaten, and look, I have eaten weird stuff.

I look at Django, —Bleh. I will leave you alone with your horrible snack. Don't do anything stupid. —

Quickly making sure there are no things that might hurt him in the room, I leave, closing the door. Now, where is everyone? Everyone's rooms are open and empty, and I cannot find them in the lobby either. The kitchen is my next option, and it's the right place; the siblings and the wizards are sitting at the table, looking at one of Barney's devices.

Wong notices me first, —You're late for dinner, but I left you food on the counter. —

—Thank you. I need to recover from cat food. —

As I grab my covered plate, which is full of macaroni and cheese, Victoire speaks up. —You... Did you try cat food? —

I sit down. —I will admit, it was not my smartest moment. —

There is a moment of silence.

—Did you sleep well? —Strange asks, as I pour some water for myself. I nod. —Good. I hope you have energy now, 'cause this is not stopping any soon. —when I frown at him, he continues, —We might've gotten a hint on Lucifer's son. More specifically, a coven related to him. —

I stop eating. He has a coven too?

—Witches are starting to go online. —he points at the screen of the device, which shows a long text, filled with words like "Wicca", "pagan", "spells", and the name of the coven; "The Wives of the Lord". Very discreet. —They have many posts bragging about their Lord and, somehow, they know about the doors to Hell. —

I sigh. —You want me to go there, correct? —

—We are going. If he's there we could finally put a stop to this. —

The wizards should not go there. It would not be smart. —If you go there, they could detect your magic and not collaborate. —

—But we won't let you go alone. —he crosses his arms, —What's your plan, then? —

I need someone who will not set off the alarms of the witches.