Disclaimer: I don't own The Gifted, but I have always loved anything X-men related.

A/N: I have lots of Thunderblink muse, but I can't write a bazillion little fics since the next episode hasn't come out yet. Soooo, have an AU! I'm borrowing my little OC Riley for this fic, and she's John's adopted daughter. Also, Xavier's is a thing!

In Another Life

Chapter 1

John woke up before his alarm clock, like usual, and rolled out of bed, bare feet hitting the hardwood floor. He could hear Riley still sleeping in her room down the hall, her little whistling breaths faint and even, and the automatic coffee pot was already bubbling to life. That thing was on its last leg, and if it busted, he would have to somehow convince Forge to fix it or get a new one.

Forcing himself to his feet, John ran his hands through his messy hair. He needed a shower, but he had to get Riley moving first. She always took forever in the morning, which would make him late for work and her late for school.

Padding down the hallway, John pushed Riley's door open and stepped over the minefield of stuffed animals. Seriously, the kid's collection of plush animals seemed to get bigger every week. He suspected Lorna of sneaking new toys to Riley. Or maybe one of the other kid's in the building had a duplication power…there was that new family that had moved in a couple weeks ago.

Bending down, John shook Riley by the shoulder. "Hey, squirt, time to get up."

Her bright pink and black wings twitched and then spread, coming up to cover her head. "Nuh…"

"Yes," he said, pulling the blankets back, "You gotta get ready for school."

Riley sat up and folded her wings over herself entirely, hiding behind them. "I'm asleep. Shh."

John smirked and picked her up by the waist, tucking her under his arm like a football. He was careful with her, watching out as they squeezed past the doorframe. All the while, Riley made exaggerated snoring noises, like she could possibly sleep through this. Once they were in the living room, John tossed the five-year-old onto the couch and turned on the news. "You have ten minutes to wake up."

Riley popped up, clinging to the back of the couch. "But I'm very asleep!"

"Ten minutes."

"Ugh!" She flung herself back onto the cushions, and the blanket that was slung over the back of the couch slid down, tug by tug.

With Riley on her way to actually waking up, John headed back to his room and quickly showered and got dressed. He and Riley were supposed to be at Xavier's in about an hour, and it would take at least thirty minutes to drive there. His towel around his neck, John headed back into the kitchen and turned on the stove before heading over to the couch. Riley was curled up in a little ball, her wings curled around her. Those wings were a lot less delicate than they looked; he should know, he had been walloped enough with them. Leaning over the back of the couch, he tickled her neck, getting her to twitch and wriggle.

"Dad!" she yelped, rooting into the cushions.

"I said ten minutes, and time's up," he said, bobbing her against the cushions with both hands, "So wake up. I'm making pancakes."

That got her to sit up, batting away at his hands. "Blueberry?"

"Is that what you want?"

"Yep, yuh-huh." She pushed her wild pink and black striped hair out of her face. Her skin was light violet, like lilacs. Lorna always said Riley looked like she had stepped out a kids' fairy tale book, a pixie come to life, and John guessed that was about right. She was like a small bit of magic, one that he had sworn to raise and protect when he had adopted her five years ago.

"Then I'm making cucumber pancakes." John gave her hair a gentle tug and pointed to a hairbrush on the coffee table. "Start working on that rat's nest you call hair, squirt."

"Not cucumber," Riley said, wrinkling her nose. She grabbed the brush and scrambled up to sit on the back of the couch, using her wings to balance as she perched up there. Brushing her hair, she watched him grab the pancake mix out of the cabinet.

"No? How about fish pancakes?" He picked up a bowl from the drying rack and dumped pancake mix into it. "Or peanut butter pancakes."

"No, blueberry."

"Oh, okay, I hear you, grass pancakes—"

Riley made a whining sound and dropped back onto the couch, disappearing from view. John could hear her grumbling to herself about how much she wanted blueberry pancakes and wondering if they were out of blueberries and how grass would make 'icky yucky pancakes.' Over by the stove, he tried not to laugh. So dramatic. "Go get your school clothes on and we'll see what kind of pancakes we end up with."

She commando-crawled out from behind the couch and spread out, stomach-down, on the hardwood floor. "Can I wear my Moana dress?"

"No, you can wear a long-sleeve and jeans plus some socks, it's cold." He swished the pancake batter around one final time and started pouring it into the pan he had set on the stovetop. "You can pick whatever you want as long as it's one of each. And two socks."

"Socks gotta match?"

"Go wild."

Riley jumped up and took off down the hall, and he could hear her going through her closet and drawers while he finished the blueberry pancakes. Stacking them on a plate, he grabbed his tablet and settled down at the table. "Riles! C'mon, move it, these ketchup pancakes are getting cold."

She wandered back in, clutching a handful of socks and wearing a grey t-shirt and blue jeans. "I can't decide."

"Bring them here," he said, holding out a hand. Riley darted over and climbed up in the seat beside his before putting her socks on the table. She sniffed at her pancakes and then smiled at him. "Blueberry!"

"No way, they're ketchup."

"Are not."

John pointed a fork at her plate. "Go on and eat. And you should wear the pink cat and that pony one."

"The pony sock is Applejack, Daddy."

John shrugged and popped half a pancake into his mouth. "Orange country horse sock, then."

Riley ate daintily, and John side-eyed her when he caught her picking the blueberries out of the pancakes. She grinned and went back to eating the whole pancake. John made a face at his tablet and the emails he was reading. Two of his students were freaking out over the upcoming mid-semester exam and a third was trying to weasel out of it entirely. As a teacher who specialized in coaching young mutants to use their powers, John had a number of students with a variety of powers and a wide range of personalities to match.

"There's someone moving in."

"Hey, stop spying," John said, glancing up from his tablet. Riley was up from the table, which he had noticed while reading emails, but now she perched in the window seat. "Come back and finish your pancakes before I eat them for you."

"You won't," Riley said with complete certainty. She pressed her hands to the window, sticky syrup fingers getting goo all over the glass. Her wings spread a little. "It's somebody new. The lady moving in."

"Well, people who are just moving in are normally new." John finished off his pancakes and headed over to see what, or really who, Riley was looking at. He leaned over her, one hand against the window frame.

There was a moving truck out front, and a woman helping the movers. Her hair glinted purple in the autumn sun, and her eyes as she looked up at them were a bright, impossible, striking green, like jade. That's when John realized that she had caught them watching her, and great, wasn't this awkward.

Luckily, five-year-olds are good at fixing that sort of thing. Riley waved at the woman and her wings fluttered. The woman blinked and then waved back hesitantly, like she couldn't decide if she should or not. John gave a similar wave before ruffling Riley's hair and turning away from the window so he didn't make the impression of being Mr. Creeper on the Fifth Floor.

Riley tapped her fingers against the glass. "She's pretty."

John flicked his eyes at his daughter, who was eager for him to get married. She didn't look up at him, but she hummed to herself. "Ri, no."

"I just said she's pretty!"

"Go eat your pancakes…" While Riley rolled her eyes and headed back to the table, John stole a second glance out the window. Okay. Fine.

She was pretty.