Sunday mornings had a certain kind of quiet to them—too gentle for the crime filled New York, too soft for the people who lived there. It was the kind of quiet that felt like the city was apologizing for being itself the rest of the week.
Peter could appreciate that. He stood outside the safehouse, hands in his pockets, hair still damp from showering, waiting for Ethan—who, strangely, was early.
Ethan did not "do" early, he did "now time".
Yet here he was, leaning against a lamppost like someone posing for a magazine cover titled: Suspiciously Pleasant Teenagers of America.
He lifted a hand in a friendly wave the moment Peter spotted him.
Peter squinted. "Okay. What did you do this time?"
Ethan blinked innocently. "Peter. You wound me."
"You're smiling."
"I smile all the time. It's my best feature."
"No, that's not a smile. Seriously, what did you do? Who should I be worried about?"
Before Ethan could answer with another lie-shaped pleasantry, Paige and Amy rounded the corner, bundled in winter coats and scarves. Amy waved both arms like she was trying to flag down a rescue helicopter.
"There you are!" she chirped. "We thought you two would already be inside talking about… whatever you talk about."
"Mostly taxes," Ethan said.
"Yeah, right… taxes," Peter added.
Paige stepped up beside Amy, cheeks flushed pink from the cold. "Hey, Mr. Parker. Ethan."
"Paige," Ethan said warmly. Too warmly. Peter's senses twitched—not danger, but something in Ethan's subtle emotional frequency. He was… anticipatory.
Paige blew into her hands, warming her fingers. "So, uh… before we go anywhere, I should probably tell ya'll, something."
Amy perked up. "Oh! Oh, is this about—?"
Paige shot her a warning look. Amy ignored it with a grin that could melt glaciers.
"Tell them," Amy said, elbowing her. "It's not like it's a big deal."
Paige hesitated, gaze flicking to Peter, then Ethan. She swallowed.
"I'm… transferring schools after winter break."
A beat.
"To Xavier's School for Gifted Students."
Peter nodded slowly, kindly. "I figured as much. Most mutants end up going there."
Amy threw her hands up. "See? That wasn't hard. They already knew."
Paige winced. "I just… didn't want ya to freak out." Her eyes slid toward Amy. "Especially you."
Amy's brows rose. "Paige. You caught a falling microwave with your bare hands that transformed to steel last month. I was there. If anyone was going to freak out, it would've been then."
Paige blinked. "…You ain't freak out."
"Yeah, because you saved my life with the whole demon possession thing," Amy said plainly. "Also, you're kinda of my best friend. Dropping this friendship would be tragic."
Paige huffed out a laugh—relief dressed as amusement. "So you ain't scared of me?"
"Scared?" Amy scoffed. "No. But if you ever want to bench-press my dad's car for fun, I absolutely want front-row seats. Besides, I'm freakier than you with a Goddess living inside my head."
Paige groaned, but warmth found its way into her eyes.
Ethan watched them with a mild smile, the kind that suggested he knew every line of this conversation before it happened. He clasped his hands behind his back.
"It's an excellent school," he said. "Nurturing environment, amazing staff, incredible resources—truly a gift for someone with your talents, Paige."
Paige blinked. "Ya… know about the school?"
Ethan tilted his head, innocent as a fox strolling into a henhouse. "I read a lot."
Peter coughed sharply. "Bull... no, I'm sure you do more than that."
Ethan did not deny it.
Amy nudged Paige again. "Actually, since you're going to Xavier's… um… do you think I could get in too?" She spun toward Peter. "During the visit, could you ask if it'd be possible for me? Ethan mentioned they have things like training rooms to help students practice their powers. I kinda want to… try things."
Peter straightened. "Try things?"
"My powers," Amy whispered dramatically. "Ethan says I need to work on offensive stuff before I accidentally blow up a lamppost or criminal."
Ethan smiled pleasantly at Peter as if he weren't nudging his friend into a mutant stronghold for reasons yet unstated.
Peter lifted a brow. "And… why does she need to practice today of all days?"
"Don't you know? Sundays are for self-improvement," Ethan replied.
Peter stared at him.
Ethan stared back, unbothered.
Amy leaned forward. "Pleeeeease? Paige said the training rooms are super cool. Like, Danger Room level cool."
Paige paled. "Amy—"
"Not the Danger Room," Paige corrected quickly to Peter. "Just… regular ol training rooms. Normal training rooms. Safe training rooms."
Ethan folded his arms. "Peter. Be reasonable. Would you deny a child the chance for self-growth?"
"That's emotional manipulation."
"Yes, but am I wrong? Besides, I'm sure you have a couple of friends you want to see there."
Peter scrubbed a hand through his hair and muttered something unheroic under his breath, "Fine. But just for a few hours. And be on your best behavior, Ethan."
"Aren't I always?" Ethan asked with a gentle smile.
Peter rolled his eyes and tugged Ethan by the elbow, pulling him a few steps away from the girls.
When they were out of earshot, Peter lowered his voice. "Okay. Talk. What's going on?"
"About what?"
"The X-Mansion," Peter said. "Why are you so eager about going there? Usually, you treat things such as field trips or being forced to go somewhere as if someone asked you to lick a subway seat."
Ethan's brows rose. "How very… descriptive. I doubt I find it that unpleasant. I'm just busy most days and not today is all."
"Ethan."
Ethan looked toward the girls—Amy gesturing widely, Paige trying to calm her down—before returning his attention to Peter.
He smiled.
It was small, polite, and absolutely full of hidden teeth.
"I genuinely have no idea what you're implying," he said smoothly. "I'm merely accompanying you all to a school for gifted children. I am also considered quite gifted, so is it so wrong for me to see the place? Nothing ominous there."
"Ethan—"
"Besides," Ethan added lightly, "if we don't leave soon, Paige might lose her nerve, Amy might explode something, or you might have to explain to a telepathic school dean why you look like you swallowed stress for breakfast. I always find it best to avoid having someone else rummage around in your head."
Peter opened his mouth.
Closed it.
Pinched the bridge of his nose.
"You're impossible."
"I try to be. Also, don't mind me, you could say I'm excited today, that's all. A school with superpowered kids and teachers. I don't know any kid my age who wouldn't be excited."
Peter sighed and walked back toward the girls. Ethan fell into step behind him, humming—actually humming, which was deeply concerning on several metaphysical levels.
Amy perked up immediately. "So? Are we going?"
Peter threw his hands up. "Yes. But I swear, if Professor Xavier tries to read my mind again—"
Paige grinned, suddenly comfortable again. "He'll probably like you."
"God, I hope not," Peter muttered.
They started walking together toward the subway, bundled against the cold. Paige chatted about what she knew of the institute's curriculum, Amy asked approximately nine hundred questions per minute, and Peter answered half of them while monitoring Ethan from the corner of his eye.
Ethan walked quietly, hands in his pockets, eyes forward.
Calm.
Focused.
Content.
'Sorry, Peter. I know I'm very suspicious and all today, but I have to go today. The X-mansion should be mostly empty today. It's a perfect day to sneak in and get the three things I need.'
Which made Peter's stomach twist, because Ethan was never all three at once unless something was already in motion.
They boarded the train.
Amy sat between Paige and Ethan, swinging her legs like she was five instead of a teenager. Paige answered Amy's constant curiosity with patience. Ethan stared at the passing tunnels with a faint smile.
Peter leaned back and watched them all—three teenagers who didn't belong together on paper, yet somehow fit.
Ethan turned slightly and caught Peter's gaze.
"Relax," Ethan said softly.
Peter frowned. "I can't when you're this relaxed."
"Then consider today an exercise," Ethan murmured. "In trust."
Peter wanted to reply—but the train lurched, cutting him off.
Outside the window, the city blurred into streaks of gray and light.
Inside the car, Ethan closed his eyes for a moment, as if listening to something only he could hear.
Sunday morning.
A school full of mutants.
Forge.
Jean Grey.
Storm.
The things he needed.
The power he wanted.
The future he was already shaping.
And Peter Parker, dutifully unaware beside him.
Ethan's smile deepened—subtle, secret, satisfied.
"Today," he whispered under his breath, "will be a very productive day."
Peter didn't hear it.