This is my own take on a universe with my own additions and personalities applied to characters that are not of my creation. My writing is not perfect and if you have suggestions or comments that aren't anything productive please don't leave them. If you disagree with my story and my take please don't read it, because my writing is based of my own experiences.
Disclaimer: This is not my own work I do not own the X-Men or any of their series that is the properties of Marvels.
She spread the thin serum over her skin as she had to every morning, the buzzing on her skin felt dampened, like having your own wind blowing around under your clothes. Looking in the mirror to her attempt at covering as much skin as possible but exposing small spans of skin, a personal act of rebellion, like the end of her sleeve and the beginning of her glove, or the tear on her right pant leg's knee. holding up the intricate computer, the size of a cellphone, pressing her thumb against the screen, the pleasant little electric bleep and an X appearing on the screen as confirmation. Brightly colored text and images form in the air; her schedule in the center, an image of her, Logan, Bobby, Kitty, Remy, and Jubilee all happy around the dinner table as a faded background, grades of her students in their multiple classes on the right, and on the bottom left some messages from the other X-Men. That picture of Remy always made her smile, everything was so normal except for his black and red eyes, usually in public they are covered by shades, this the only picture she could find with them exposed, it made it seem so normal, but he wasn't here to make it feel like that anymore was he…
"Computer, show todays students' homework submissions." Sliding her fingers across the screen as videos displaying the student's practice sessions in the Danger Room, each student working on a different facet of control. Since each mutant has different mutations, different powers and exertion of the X-gene, each student has a unique form of control making it very difficult to tailor the lesson to apply to a large pool of students. Mumbling under her breath, "Ah' guess that we are gon' to have 'nother lesson on patience and self forgiveness."
Sighing as she walked down the hallway computer in hand, only stopping to grab a cup of coffee. Watching one of her kids with telekinesis go under extreme emotional stress, attempting to not move a box at the end of a table he's touching. She wasn't so much worried about his lack of control as opposed to reaction he had to his failure, pounding his fists into the table in frustration. Sipping on the hot liquid, hoping it might bring some clarity to an otherwise fuzzy morning. You would think that less voices in your head would make the world come to a closer focus, for her it made her feel inescapably alone. The only person she really feels like she can talk to is Logan, but he is barely at the Institute, still recovering the from the last time Phoenix showed her ugly mug. She loved Jean Grey, and she hated what that thing had warped her into. Opening the door to the outside courtyard you could cut through it to get to the Academic building attached to the staff/non-student apartment building as opposed to the opposite side which where the student dorms where. The ground was blushing with spring vegetation, and she almost regretted reaching the door of her office that faced the outside, punching in the code.
The dark wood and smell of lemon cleaner comforting to her like a constant of home, some people have teddy bears, quilts, or pictures. Others weren't quite so lucky, or as unlucky, did they have a couple hundred brothers and sisters in arms to save her when she needed it, but most people don't need to be saved from the psychotic mom/dad or helped out of a relationship with a crazed level 4 super-villian ex-boyfriend.
The oversized leather chair that was supposed to be next to the couch, sitting in it's place was the villain chair that was meant to make them look professeorly which only succeed in making her feel the opposite. Grabbing the stack of paper on the middle of the desk, and proceeding tothe door on the other side of the room than the one she entered from. Putting on her fake spectacles, and shoving a pen into her mess hair. The classroom would have been so laughably traditionally British if it were for the proud pictures, poems, and other assorted classwork plastered to the walls with multicolored tape and stickers.
"Ah' trust ya'll did ya journal entries last night after practice." A twinkle in her eyes as she scanned the room, mentally taking note of the ditchers. "Today were gon' be discussing the many cures we've seen appear over the years, most notably the ones who target mutants who have developed a mutant powers. Why is that different than one say to prevent those with genetic potential from ever expressing it?"
There was a long pause in the room as her kids settled down from the gossip and chatter that was being exchanged between classes. Some of the kid squirmed in their seat, others casted anger looks across at certain individuals. The cure was a huge controversy with in the mutant community. For many taking it was a betrayal, for others namely the ones who wanted to take it was a way out.
"'Cause the cure meant to suppress existing powers targeted the desperate, the ones too stupid to have any control." Joseph, the telekinetic, said, with a slight edge of anger. There was a ripple that passed through the ranks, some nodded, but many fixed their stare at something very interesting on the floor.
"Yes, n' no. It targets those of us that don't have a mutation easily concealed, those who changes physically, the mutants who can't pass for human, and have been subjected to bigotry because of it. Remember many of us aren't lucky enough to saved early." She said giving Joseph a hard stare. "There isn't any shame in bein' scared, control doesn't happen naturally. In order for us to control our gifts, and not have them control us we have to learn, and even more we need a teacher and the ability to forgive ourselves when we fail. Practice makes perfect."
"Even when that means someone might have gotten hurt?" A girl named Cassie replied, voice trembling.
"No one, not a single person, is born with that ability, not even Professor Xavier. Thats why you are here, but you can't really help yourself until you've forgiven yourself. Many of us have to live with the aftermath of the first time our powers bloomed, but that was your gift controlling you not the other way round. So yea even if someone got hurt." Marie bit her lip, still struggling with the forgiveness part. Passing out blank pieces of paper and pens. "I want each of you to write about a time when you were scared that you might be out of control, maybe not what happened, but how you felt. Then make a list of somethings you can think of doing to prevent it from happening."
Grabbing a sheet and pen herself, there were too many times she felt that way scared that with a touch she would hurt someone she cared for, being so desperate, she would anything to gain control, anything to be able to touch someone, feel connected to someone else.