Terry was not the sort of woman you would expect to be a baker. The daughter of a former X-Men/Interpol agent who was raised by a criminal? Not exactly the susie homemaker type but Terry had always loved to bake. Which was why she was standing in the kitchen in the middle of the night baking cooking.

Maeve had gone to sleep on Tamsin's shoulder hours ago and was sleeping rather soundly in her crib. She slid the tray of cookies into the stove and slid up onto the counter to wait. As she waited, she hummed softly to herself.

She was glad that things were slowly inching themselves back to some resemblance of normal. Terry had been through enough to know that a lot of the kids would never fully be back to normal but school and dances and romantic drama, that was the life the kids deserved.

Sighing softly, she leaned forward and opened the refridgerator, snagging a sode. It would be a long wait but she didn't mind.

Brenna didn't break down when the Blackbird landed. She didn't break down making sure everyone got to the medbay. She was still riding on endorphins from kissing Ethan and adrenaline from the escape. She'd held his hand the entire flight home, sitting near the back of the plane where the extra jump seats were, and by the time they were home she was dozing on his shoulder.


( cut for slight discussion of rape )

The gardens on the institute's grounds were quickly becoming Terry's favorite place. It was so quiet and peaceful, the flowers smelled so sweetly. If you stood still enough you could almost imagine that nothing terrible could happen. Terry sat on the ground in the back of the gardens, singing softly to herself as she read.

Maeve was asleep, she could hear her daughter's even breathing over the monitor that sat beside her. She wasn't worried. She knew that if Maeve had started to cry, she'd hear it. Hell, people two states over would hear it.

Right then she was just enjoying the quiet. Trying to not think of the terrible things all the kidnapped people had gone through. She wanted to sit with them, to help them through but that was presumptious. She barely knew most of them.

Sighing, she continued to read. Eventually she would get used to it. At least she hoped so.

Somewhere between putting Maeve to bed, checking in on Tamsin and having tea with a bit more something else than tea Terry had found a rather small girl attached to her. Red headed and insisting that she was much too wired to sleep, Terry had been struck by how much she reminded her of herself at that age.

Which was why she was currently sitting on the couch, singing softly to the little girl. Stroking her hair, Terry sang softly to her. The lullaby she sang in Gaelic floated through the darkened rec room as she willed the girl to sleep. The part of her powers that gave her voice hypnotic qualities was not usually something she felt comfortable using but this was the exception.

Once she was satisfied that the girl was asleep, Terry gently laid her down on the couch and stood. She made her way over to the nearest window close enough to be there if she was needed but far enough away so that her voice wouldn't disturb the little one.

Terry's voice was something she knew she could always rely on to calm her ownself. Wrapping her arms around herself, she stared out the window as she kept singing. Switching to a song in french, then in welsh. Anything to keep her mind off the current situation.

To say Tamsin was furious was an understatement. Hell, saying she was unbelievably homicidal was an understatement. Her best friend, her sister, had been taken and there was nothing that Tamsin could do about it. She was effectively helpless. She didn't like being helpless.

Which was why she was in the gym, beating the shit out of a punching bag to try and calm herself down enough to think rationally. Well, a second punching bag. She'd already broken the chain holding one to the ceiling. Whoops.

Completely focused, Tamsin unleashed another series of punches on the bag, only dimly aware that she needed to stop and tape her hands up again.

Terry sang softly to herself in gaelic as she pushed the stroller along the path up to the school. "Don't worry, baby," she said softly to her daughter as they walked. "We'll be okay here. They'll keep us safe." That was probably directed to both of them. Logically, she knew that they were most likely holding up Charle's ideals but she wasn't exactly an easy girl to have around.

She took a deep breath and pushed a rebellious curl out of her face. "Your granddady used to work here. Banshee they called him. Sean Cassidy. He was so proud of that." Her father had gone through a lot and done a lot of things that he wasn't proud of but being an X-Men? That was always a bright spot.

Knocking on the heavy wooden door, she stepped back her hand slipping into the pocket of her coat. "Here goes nothing."