AURORA HAD TO CONCENTRATE GREATLY TO PROJECT TO A SPECIFIC PLACE. She had toyed with her mutation for months, long before she had even fathomed making this kind of plan, and was able to project to places that she could either vividly imagine or be able to see, even if she was in her projected form, which was how she had been able to get into Phillip's house; Google Maps was a blessing.

She had taken a moment to rest, her body asleep but her mind still active, taking a short nap before being alerted by her godmothers that the boys were nearly at the mansion.

"Are you sure you can trust those two?" Gazelle asked, looking up from where she was showing Aurora the grounds of the mansion so she could visualize it fully.

"They're all I have," Aurora sighed, shrugging, "I mean, I didn't know that Peter was Spider-Man, I had expected to get help from an adult."

"What about the other one?" Marisol asked, and even with the time constraining pressure she still managed to smirk and waggle her eyebrows at her.

"Phillip wakes me up at the end of class when I fall asleep," she replied, and the woman all froze, giving her a confused look and she shrugged, "I think it's more coincidence than anything, but he never stops trying. It means a lot."

They all hummed softly, moving to let her look over the mansion's grounds where she was to project to; Gazelle had stated that most people with her mutation didn't do this and mostly focused on concentrating on projecting for longer amounts of time, as this in itself was more than quite difficult, but there was only so much they could do, so Aurora just had to go with it.

"Don't push yourself," Gazelle reminded her, right before she disappeared to project towards the mansion, "There are other ways we can do this without endangering another part of you."

She took a deep breath and sighed. "I can't stop now, we just barely got started. I'll see you later."

With that, she closed her eyes and fell back into her body, visualizing where she wanted to go. Time to go home.

º º º

Peter was fidgeting as he and Phillip made their way to Westchester, which was about an hour away from Midtown without traffic, and it took about ten minutes for them to finally cave and raise the roof of the car, cancelling out the wind and plunging them into silence.

"So..." Peter began, unable to handle how hyperaware he was of Phillip's every move and the way he kept glancing towards him from behind his sunglasses, "Tell me about yourself."

Phillip shrugged. "What's there to tell, everyone knows who I am."

Peter couldn't fight back his scoff and reply of, "That was really humble of you."

Phillip breathed out a laugh, but shrugged. "Okay, I'll admit, that sounds bad, but I mean, everyone does. I can't breathe without someone laughing at me, so it's not really my fault, now, is it?"

"I don't laugh at you," Peter pointed out, "And Briar doesn't either. And neither do any of your friends. Except probably Flash?"

"Yeah," Phillip nodded, "Flash laughs. But just 'cause you don't laugh doesn't mean you don't know."

Peter sighed, leaning back in his seat. "We don't know, Phillip. Briar and I really don't, we talk about it sometimes, we really don't get all the prince jokes. What's up with them?"

Phillip shook his head, adjusting his sunglasses. "It doesn't matter, everyone's just being stupid." He emphasized stupid with a sharp shift of the turn signal, making a left and continuing on their way.

The two drove in silence again, Phillip even going so far as to turn on the radio to fill it, surprised at the broad range of stations Flash had pre-set, he and Peter both finding songs they liked to listen to.

"I'm excited to meet the X-Men," Peter said, as they drew ever closer to the mansion, Phillip driving very well for someone who was legally not allowed to drive another minor.

"Yeah, what do you think they're like?" Phillip asked, "'Cause I read somewhere that the school was supposed to be for mutants and non-mutants, so you'd think they'd be nice, right? Or do you think they'll run us out?"

"I think there are extremes in every group, but they are discriminated against a lot, so I wouldn't blame them for not trusting us," Peter mused, and Phillip couldn't disagree with him there.

They were about ten minutes away from the mansion when the boys realized they weren't exactly sure how to get there. Phillip parked the car along the side of the road, turning over to look at Peter with an expectant look.

"What?" Peter asked, confused as to why the boy was just looking at him, "What?"

"You wanna, you know," Phillip motioned out towards the world, "Thwip around until you find the mansion and tell me where to go?"

Shaking his head, Peter reached into his backpack and pulled out his mask, pulling it over his head and speaking. "Hey, Karen, can you give us detailed directions to the X-Men mansion? Please?"

Phillip stared back to the street, shaking his head. "Why me? Why?"

Peter swatted his arm and told him the directions, his Spider-Man mask still pulled over his face, and Phillip fell into an autopilot, just following his directions without any real care, his mind shutting off briefly; this was what he tended to do whenever his father tried to make any contact with him, which meant he was well-versed in the art.

"Phillip," Peter said, breaking him out of his detachment just in time to let him experience nearing Xavier's Mansion for the first time.

The boys gawked as they drove up the driveway, past the open gates and down the straight road leading up to a circular roundabout with a fountain in the middle, right in front of the mansion doors. Mansion wasn't the right word for it, really, if it were up to the boys, they would have called it a castle.

They climbed out, gawking up at the sprawling mansion, then around them at the green grounds that seemed to go on forever, though without a student in sight. It baffled them, as they were sure at least a few people would be out, but the entire place seemed deserted.

"Hey!"

The boys both jumped at the shout, whirling around to find Aurora running towards them, having just projected a few moments before, glad to see her timing seemed to work out in her favor. When she neared them, she noticed their expressions, her smile faltering.

"What's wrong?" she asked, coming to stand next to Phillip, looking over at Peter who was rubbing his arm, staring up at the mansion with a newfound suspicion.

"Something doesn't feel right," he said lowly, approaching the doors with caution, "Come on, let's go see what we have to find."

Sharing a look, Aurora and Phillip both followed, Phillip stepping forward to guard Aurora, which the girl wasn't sure if she wanted to be appreciative or upset; she wasn't the strongest of people, at least not physically, and so while she longed to be able to stand up for herself and actually have opinions, she had not yet found it within herself to branch out from the rather sheltered lifestyle her godmothers had encased her in.

"Are you okay?" Phillip asked, trying to touch her arm, only for it to phase through, startling him.

Aurora's reply was choked off by her scream as she entered the mansion to find the bodies sprawled along the floor.

Phillip grabbed her arm and pulled her to his chest, forcing her to turn away from the scene, both of them too shocked to realize that he had been able to grab her despite her not focusing enough.

She had burst into tears, sobbing and shaking against him, gripping his shirt and trying to breathe, Phillip holding her close and rubbing her back, staring numbly down at the scene, watching as Peter shouted into his mask which he had thrown back on, rushing over to some of the bodies.

"They're alive!" he called out, ripping his mask off, nearly collapsing with relief, "It's okay, they're-they're alive, they're just asleep."

Aurora paused, still struggling to breathe, pulling away from Phillip to look over at Peter who was nodding at her, trying to seem reassuring despite his utter confusion, motioning towards the woman whose pulse he had just checked.

"No one just sleeps like this," she cried, motioning towards the large pile of bodies sprawled out across the floor, "We need to find the Professor."

She raced over to the large stairs leading up to the other floors, Phillip refraining from pointing out how, while there was still a lot of ground to cover, the doors still led straight into the stairs, all three of them nearly slipping when they caught sight of the bodies along the second flight.

"Are they alright?" Phillip asked, watching as Peter threw on his mask and turned some over.

"They're not bleeding and there's no damage," he recited, voice slightly muffled behind the fabric, "They're gonna be okay. Let's just move them so nothing happens."

The three paused their frantic chase to move the bodies, Aurora letting out short gasps when she recognized some of the teachers and students, vaguely, but still enough for it to hurt more than it already did.

"Come on," Phillip said, touching her arm lightly once they were finished placing the bodies on the flat landing in between the two flights, "Don't look."

Hurrying up the now empty stairs, Aurora raced down the hallway, careful to not go anywhere near the limp bodies of the sleeping mutants that looked more dead than alive, Peter jumping from wall to wall while Phillip just hopped around, nearly tripping over his own feet every few seconds.

Aurora paused, wondering, skidding to a stop, realizing that she was heading over to her parents' room and not the Professor's office.

"Sorry," she mumbled, the boys stopping on either side of her, "We're going the wrong way."

"That's okay," Peter said, reaching into his backpack and pulling out the scroll, "You wanna check to see if something changed?"

She nodded numbly, opening it and seeing that, in fact, another set of instructions had appeared underneath the directions to go to the mansion, her arms prickling with goosebumps.

"You don't have to," Peter said, placing a hand on her arm, though it simply passed through to the other side.

"Yeah, I do," she sighed, pushing the scroll towards him, "Go find the Professor's office, it's downstairs with big double doors. I'll meet you there."

The boys nodded stiffly, running back the way they came, Phillip once again stumbling and Peter once again hopping from wall to wall, the two rounding the corner and disappearing from sight.

Now alone, the sleeping bodies surrounding her filled her with an unpleasant feeling, as if she was responsible for this, or she was making her way to the person who was. In a way, she was correct in every feeling.

She shuddered as she passed by faces that were vaguely familiar, gasping when she caught sight of Scott Summers, his glasses hanging partly off his face, and she rushed to adjust them, glancing to the side and finding his wife just nearby; she wondered if their daughter was alright.

Rising to her feet, she continued on her way, running when she remembered the time limit she had. Everything became muscle memory in an odd way, and she didn't quite know how she did it, but she soon found herself in front of her parents' room, unable to move.

She bit her lip, looking around, feeling as though someone was watching her. Shuddering to herself, she reached out and pushed open the door, peering around the corner warily, as if someone or something was about to pop up and attack her.

Fortunately, all she found was an untouched room. She was surprised they had left it standing, as new students appeared every year, though perhaps since they were teachers, they made an exception. Whatever the reason, she couldn't help but just standing in the doorway for a moment, looking in.

It was like a bedroom, with a door for a closet and two desks on opposite ends of the wall across from where the bed resided. A bed that still, to this day, looked as if someone had forgotten to fold the sheets, but was going to come back and sleep in them anyways. They were rumpled, but as if they had just been too lazy to go and adjust them.

Stepping inside, she looked around, realizing that there were also cabinets and drawers they had installed, no doubt on their own, to hold other things. She would have to look in there or the closet to find what she was looking for.

But first thing's first. Walking over to the bed, she climbed up onto the mattress, burying herself under the covers, pressing her face against the pillows, tearing up because even if she could barely remember them, they smelled like her parents, and she wanted nothing more than to just stay there until the time was up, to just go and see them again.

She stayed there for what felt like hours, but was in reality only five minutes, surrounded by something that still remained solely her parents, and she knew no one wanted to disturb their things, but she figured this could be an exception.

Taking a deep breath, burying her face one last time into the pillows, as if trying to suffocate herself, she climbed out of the bed, getting to work, searching in the drawers and cabinets, under the bed, and, finally, in the closet.

Up on a high shelf in the closet was a small black pot that she refused to call a cauldron, no matter what the scroll described it as. Standing on her tiptoes, she tried and failed to reach it, huffing as she fell back, looking around.

Rushing to a desk, she grabbed one of the chairs, carrying it back to the closet, jumping up onto it and reaching out, her fingertips just barely brushing against the cauldron. She huffed, crossing her arms.

She was going to die for the sole reason that she's too short to get something from the top shelf. Wonderful.

º º º

"You think we should help her?" Peter asked, snooping around the Professor's office, the two already having found what they needed, both of them trying to avoid looking at the man slumped over in his wheelchair behind his desk.

"She's a big girl, she can handle herself," Phillip drawled, his sunglasses back on, splayed out across the Professor's desk, holding the letter they had been instructed to find.

"Yeah, I guess so," Peter said, pulling out a book and flipping through it before setting it back, "She's a little sheltered, though, you know? Doesn't really have opinions of her own, it's kinda sad."

"Yeah," Phillip agreed, though he hadn't really seen it first hand, "But she'll be fine. Who knows, maybe after this she won't have to be so sheltered anymore. She can, you know, go watch movies without sleeping or whatever."

Peter hummed in agreement, and the two fell back into silence, more comfortable than it had been in the car, though slightly more tense due to the unconscious form of the leader of the X-Men slumped over by them.

"He was really hot when he was younger," Phillip said, shocking Peter from where he was balanced at the top of the shelves, far from the ground, legs swinging as he read a book on mutations.

"What?" he called down, and Phillip just pointed towards the Professor, not even looking up from his phone.

"Don't be weird, he's right there, what if he can hear you?" Peter squeaked, face warming at the statement, and Phillip snorted.

"You were pretty hot when you were younger," he said to the man, and Peter blanched, dropping down to the floor.

"Are you okay, you're acting weird," Peter asked, coming to stand by the desk, and Phillip stiffened.

"You don't know me," was all he mumbled back, but Peter would see his hands shaking as he tried to remain nonchalant, and there was no reason for him to be wearing the sunglasses indoors; all the other times he had worn them, the sun was shining in, but there's no sun now.

"You're scared?" Peter asked softly, though he didn't really need an answer.

Phillip let out a soft sigh. "I'm lying across the desk of one of the most famous mutants on the planet, surrounded by an entire mansion full of passed out mutants with the Spider-Man and the astral projection of a girl I barely talk to. Of course I'm scared."

"You'll be okay," Peter said, squeezing his shoulder, and Phillip didn't know whether to pull back or lean into the touch; he didn't really get a lot of those.

"Okay, I'm here."

The two boys looked over to find Aurora gasping for breath, lugging a small cauldron, for lack of a better word. Her arms were shaking and she was clearly struggling, what with the way the cauldron kept slipping from her hands which were flickering.

"I got it," Peter said quickly, grabbing the cauldron from her and lifting it easily in his arms, watching her collapse on the ground, taking a few deep breaths, "Are you okay?"

She nodded, her eyes scrunched close to fight back the headache pounding against her temples. "Yeah. I just...that was really hard to keep, because I had to focus and carry it. You know?"

"Let's go," Phillip said, brandishing the letter in his hands, walking over to the other two, "Briar, we'll just meet you back at your place, go home."

"That's a waste of time," she breathed, but she was already flickering, "Actually, yeah, you know, maybe my godmothers could help us with the letter, yeah, let's do that..."

By the time she got the last word out, she had already faded away, leaving the two boys in the mansion with the sleeping bodies, a cauldron, and a letter that still remained unopened.

They glanced at each other, shrugging. At least they were getting somewhere.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

( 05.28.18 )

So after seeing the way astral projection was portrayed in Dr. Strange, I was terrified, because that is not at all how I portrayed it here (honestly, the way I portrayed it here is not how anyone would have ever portrayed it because it makes no sense) but then I realized that she has a mutation, so I figured that she would be able to push the limitations a bit more? We're just gonna go with it, okay?

I'm also having such a hard time figuring out what they would need to collect because the Sleeping Beauty movie and story really do not have motifs to use, but I've actually figured some stuff out, so let's hope it doesn't backfire, yeah?

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!