"Professor, this is George Russ. I am sorry for intruding, but I have a situation where I could really use your help." Young male's voice sounded from a receiver.
"Calm down, George. You are not intruding. How can I help you?" It was always nice to hear one's older students.
"I have a young patient and um... it would be better if you came, so that I could explain everything easier. I'm in a central hospital."
"Alright. I'll be there in an hour."
"Thank you, sir."
It wasn't unusual for professor Xavier's former students to call for advice, but only a few ever asked to come and help. Though it was always a pleasure to see the grown up youngsters who felt like his own children.
Less than an hour later Professor was wheeling through pediatrics unit in the hospital where his former student was working; knowing that his students dedicated their own lives to help others in need always gave him a warm feeling.
"Professor!" A young doctor rushed his way and took him to a nearby office. "Thank you for coming."
The older man nodded with a smile. "How can I help you?"
The youngster in front of him took a deep breath to put his thoughts in order. "I have a young patient, a boy. He is thirteen, maybe fourteen years old..." Exactly the stage of puberty when most of the mutants discover their abilities; maybe Charles could even be there when it occurred to this young boy, and help him through this ordeal.
"...and you think he is a mutant?"
Another deep intake of air, "I am sure of that. He got into a car crash a few days ago where both of his parents were killed, and as far as we are concerned, he has no other relatives. We made a DNA test, and he came up positive." The professor raised his eyebrows. "Before you even ask, a truck smashed into their car. He had nothing to do with it. Unfortunately, we will have to contact child's services soon."
"And chances of mutants to be adopted are slim at best." Professor nodded; he was quite familiar with the problem.
"I wish that was all; he is also deaf." The sentence was almost a whisper coming from a young doctor desperate to help his patient.
"By how much?" Xavier intertwined his fingers in front of himself.
"Fully. It's as if his ears weren't meant to hear in the first place."
"How long can you keep him here?"
The youngster slowly shook his head shrugging. "Not long. Another day tops. There's not much I can do for someone with a few bruises and shallow cuts. We have already wasted a lot of precious time waiting for those test's results."
After a few minutes of intense silence professor spoke up again, "if you could keep him here till tomorrow, I'll send someone to pick him up."
The youngster loudly exhaled a sigh of obvious relief, but the older man wasn't finished. "I'd like to see him, if it's alright."
"I can take you to his ward, but he only responds to sign language."
A few minutes later they entered a silent ward with only one occupied bed. The boy seemed asleep.
Professor Xavier rolled slightly closer so that he could see the face of the boy. It was pale and thin. His right cheek was bruised and cut at his jawline. Long raven hair reached just below shoulders. Shoulders where bones and joints were easily visible. Looking down his lean frame one could hardly see any fat under the young skin, yet the muscles and veins were there. Minutes later Xavier shook his head as if shaking something off.
"What did you see, professor?"
With eyes still glued to the young innocent face in front of him, "images... pictures... feelings... But not a single sound. The silence is almost eerie." Finally the man rolled away, "I'll send Storm to pick him up tomorrow. Don't worry, we'll take care of him."
"Good morning, students. My name is Nathaniel. I am your new official Mathematics teacher and unofficial tutor in all other disciplines you will find troubling." A fourteen-year-old looking lad stood in front of a class in the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters. "Before we go any further and submerge ourselves in the wonderful world of numbers, I want to give you a few advices and lessons for this subject and the rest of your lives. First of all, if you can, always expect the worst and most inconvenient."
How much can one person learn of sign language in half a day? Ororo Munroe was glad she managed to at least get a grasp of alphabet; not that she could sign in it quickly, and there was simply no one around to actually have a conversation in it to learn how to read it.
Most of the children on their way of coming into the institute are quiet and scared, and it is the job of the ones bringing them in to make the kids feel better and tell them what to expect, bluntly - to calm them down. How was she supposed to do that to the child who couldn't hear anything while also driving the car by herself. Charles really had too much faith in her abilities to converse.
They slowly pulled up in front of the mansion. Getting out she noticed that there was not a single soul around; classes must have been still in place. Step by step they came to the main doors and walked in. The boy was turning his head almost all the way around trying to take everything in at once.
Ororo chuckled, "don't worry, usually people feel overwhelmed at first, but they get used to it after a while." The lad walked on without a notice in the world. Not used to being ignored she raised an eyebrow, but a moment of pause was enough for her to remember the circumstances of this specific boy. "Right. Deaf." She sighed before smiling and coming into the kid's line of sight, motioning for him to follow her.
They went onto the third floor to boys' dormitory. She would have rather had him in a room with one more boy at most, but Charles insisted on the child living with three more, as if it would make the youngster more sociable. She could only hope it won't make things worse.
When they came into the room, she motioned with her hand to the only empty bed with a dresser besides it and stepped aside a little giving space. The boy walked to the bed and put his backpack on it turning to Ororo. He put his right hand touching his mouth with his fingers and then lowered it forward to his elbow height. Unfortunately the sign's meaning escaped Storm; maybe she should have browsed through more than just alphabet... But there was no turning back. She raised her hand to try signing letter by letter. 'W-H-E-N' she pointed at the boy 'R-E-A-D-Y M-E-E-T' she pointed at herself and then down to the floor. She could only hope that the kid understood; he did nod before she left.
It was some very long and nerve-wrecking minutes later that the boy finally came downstairs. She met him in the hall and motioned to follow her. On their way to Charles' office she turned to him, and when she had his attention, signed 'P-R-O-F X'. She would have told him more, but before she could, they were already in front of the doors.
She stopped and knocked lightly. After a silent "come in" they proceeded through the doors.
Charles was sitting behind his desk and motioned for them to take the seats in front of him. Now usually if the child is calm enough to listen and especially if they are not, the professor would get into their heads and carefully strike a conversation; children couldn't escape or even evade their own minds. Alas this proved to be not such a usual case, for when the man said a simple "hello" in the lad's mind, the youngster drew his head in lifting his shoulders and clutched his temples with his hands squeezing his eyes shut. Ororo and the professor shared a surprised and concerned look, and the man went on with a softly whispered "don't..." into the youngster's head, but the boy only shrank back further strongly clutching his head and bending down to touch his legs with his forehead. A few barely whispered words later the kid started shivering and then lightly shaking. Professor withdrew at once; he hadn't anticipated this possible issue.
Secondly, never underestimate others just because they seem new to rules or situation.
It was the first night in the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters and the red alarm light newly installed in his room was already flashing.
Everybody's favorite rule of ten first students to report being excused from training for the next week and everybody's least favorite rule of ten last students to report having extra training for the next week had already been explained to the newest addition, Nathaniel.
Two short flashes were enough to wake him up, and before his roommates could do as much as sit in their beds, he was walking out of the room with a small bag on his shoulder. He could only wonder if there was much point; it's not like his teachers knew his name, so they weren't going to check his name as 'arrived' anyway. Silently making his way through the corridor he noticed that there wasn't even a teacher in the interception. Next meeting point was downstairs. Staying close to the walls he galloped down the stair and was glad to see Wolverine already there waiting for others. The man merely raised an eyebrow and put a tick next to 'the new guy' entry on his pad.
Nathaniel might had been the last to join their school, but he was the first to arrive on trainings that mattered.
Thirdly, never reveal your true potential to others. That way you will learn many interesting things.
It was late evening when Nathaniel finally came inside. A storm was raging outside, and rain seemed more like hail. The lad barely stepped through the doors and took off his rain-suit putting it in a waterproof bag. A lap around the property in here was a lot longer than back in his previous home; at least now he could take fewer of those. The boy made his way to the bedroom uninterrupted by anyone, though there were quite a lot of other kids gathered in the living room, working mostly.
A few minutes later Nathaniel walked back into the room and found a quiet corner; quiet meaning no one should notice him, and he shouldn't get in anyone's way at the same time having the best view of everybody in the room.
It didn't take long for one of the lads, Mark, to start grumbling. "He isn't very sociable, is he?" He motioned with his head towards Nathaniel.
The newcomer stopped reading and was watching other students with his head still bowed.
"It's not very easy to socialize when you don't understand others, and they don't understand you." Melissa, a fourteen-year-old girl, was one of the very few who had spent some time learning American Sign Language, even if the only thing she could do was slowly finger spell.
"Yeah, and what about that? I mean why are we the only ones at least trying to understand him? We have to learn ASL, and he isn't doing anything to help us!" Mark's frustration about upcoming tests was leaking out.
Scott finally decided to interfere before powers were involved. "One cannot learn to hear, Mark. And imagine how isolated he must be feeling: he has spent all his life signing with other people, and now nobody understands him."
"By the way, does anyone know his ability? I mean if he is a telepath, then he doesn't even need to hear us; he could read our minds." Lynn had been watching the new student for any signs of powers but had been unable to spot anything extraordinary.
"According to the professor, he is not a telepath. Nathaniel wouldn't be able to understand what we were saying anyway; he doesn't recognize words from mere noises for he has been deaf since his birth." Scott had been one of the most put out to learn the boy was not a mind-reader; it meant ASL was the only way to communicate with him.
By the general belief Nathaniel must not have gotten a single word from this conversation, but he understood more than enough; lip-reading had rarely been this useful before. It was always convenient to learn what others thought of him, even if it was solemnly pleasant.
Fourthly, apparent inexperience is not a reason to underestimate others.
Nathaniel was having a bad day.
No, that's an understatement.
Nathaniel was having a terrible day.
Scratch that.
He was having one of those days when it was better not just to stay in bed but actually not to wake up at all.
Thinking retrospectively he should have sensed that this was not going to be his day when he went out for his morning jog.
He was the only one running, luckily because he could let lose and have some fun. However, this time fun turned into a struggle to stay on his feet; the rain that had been pouring all night turned the ground into a massive puddle of mud, and the grass became slippery as ice. At the end of the first lap around the property Nathaniel turned for the doors, not being able to care less about the few missed laps.
Second pleasure of the day was morning exercises with Logan. Everything would have been rather pleasant or at least bearable, except that this time the man decided to let the first years of the school to spar one-on-one instead of just learning fighting stances.
Naturally as the least sociable and generally not well known Nathaniel was left without a sparring partner. But this time rather than sending him to run a few laps around the property, Wolverine decided to fight the boy himself.
The man faced his opponent and slightly bent his knees to absorb any impact as well as be ready to attack.
The boy merely stood facing forward with a blank expression on his face. Intellectually he knew that he had to have no chance at standing up to Logan; it wasn't so easy to tell his instincts that. Eighty percent of confrontation's outcome is decided before it even begins. Training kicks in, and Nathaniel had had more than enough of that.
Wolverine launched towards his prey with claws extended. At the very last moment the lad merely stepped aside and pivoted to face his attacker. The man charged again but this time with both hands trying to grab or rather cut in two the brat. Alas the intended prey dropped to the ground on one knee, and before Logan could get a grip on what was going on, he had taken one backward step away. Five minutes later the only difference in the situation was the man's obvious frustration and dead silence around them; everybody was watching them with gobsmacked expressions on their faces.
Wolverine motioned for the kid 'come on', but the boy merely stood with a blank face and without any visible reaction; he didn't even have any beads of sweat on his forehead. The man sprang forward, and this time Nathaniel jumped up turning to face his attacker, who was about to recover his balance at the boy's side, and landed with inertia on the man's knees on his back, successfully making the more experienced fighter drop to the ground face first. It didn't help anyone that the soil was mostly mud from constant rain. A moment later the boy jumped a meter or so away.
Logan just raised his head and growled "practice's over" through gritted teeth. How could a mere young teenager make him, Wolverine, eat dirt?
Nathaniel knew this was bound to cause trouble or at least questions, but his body had reacted in defense before his mind could process what exactly was happening.
Lessons were next. He had to admit that the school had gone out of their way to adapt to his needs in classes. Every teacher had a computer, and there was a network between his own laptop and theirs. Instead of talking, he was supposed to write down his answers and send them to his teachers. On one hand, he had to answer all questions, and there was no laying low if he hadn't learnt his homework; on the other hand, it was better than to just watch others work while being completely ignored by them because they still could hardly understand him.
First was Mathematics. The subject he loved, the lesson on the other hand... no words utterable in polite company could cover that.
Nathaniel entered the room and nodded to Scott, their teacher, in greeting. Receiving a nod in return he took a seat at the back of the class; his place in class wasn't a factor in his ability to hear.
The lesson started as always: everybody took their seats and started doing what was written on the board. Today's subject was optimization exercises, distance between two points.
Nathaniel was working as always: get an answer and send it to Scott, then move on to the next task. Posting his last numbers the lad raised his eyes to the board to see where the others were. He could only bang his head on his desk, for they weren't even through the first task. Apparently Scott was having a hard time explaining the subject and its intricacies. If the boy didn't have an extensive knowledge of the subject, it might have been useful for him to listen to their teacher's explanations, but with what he knew, he didn't even bother reading lips. The less his classmates understood, the more confusing were Scot's comments.
Two cars were approaching a crossroad from different directions. But the explanation was getting close to rocket science with its intricacy.
They still had more than half an hour, and Scott wasn't looking at him, never mind typing a few more tasks to do for him.
A person has patience only so much... Not minding to type quietly Nathaniel wrote a message and pasted it more than several times flooding Scott's laptop's screen.
Finally stopping his rant the teacher looked at the exasperated boy and then at the display. 'It's a basic Pythagorean theorem not a higher mathematics.' The man raised an eyebrow in surprise and glanced at the teenager.
Nathaniel's very posture was saying 'duh'. The reply he got was 'read the next passage'. Rolling his eyes he opened an unfinished essay and deliberately ignored the rest of the lesson. He was going to have plenty of spare time the next day when they would be still lagging behind him.
It always felt good to have someone who understood you, especially if you were a teacher trying to explain something to your students. But to have a new kid who could put something as complicated as optimization exercises down to 'basic Pythagorean theorem' was slightly unnerving; other kids were having a hard time grasping anything that was going on, and Nathaniel seemed to be bored more than anything else, never making a mistake either. Scott was going to have to pay more attention to his quietest student.
Fifthly, giving feels better than getting; especially when people don't expect anything.
It was late Friday evening in winter, a fortnight before Christmas. Everybody was resting and generally laying back.
Everybody except for four people comfortably sitting in one of the many study rooms. Jean and Scott were cuddled on a couch reading a book about ASL and trying to learn new gestures, trying being the operative word because they were paying more attention to each other than the book. The remaining two people in the room were Nathaniel and Melissa. The boy was happily typing at his laptop; he had a few deadlines to meet, and it was high time he started seriously working on his paper. Melissa was sitting by the table, reading and rereading her Physics coursebook, looking for answers to her homework; the fact that they were having a test on Monday wasn't helpful either.
"I'm never going to get this!" The girl slammed her book shut and angrily leaned back in her chair.
A few minutes later Nathaniel raised his eyes to rest them from looking at the screen only to see the sulking girl. Deciding it was not his business he just sat looking around the room. Several minutes passed and the girl was still glaring at her book. Taking a breath Nathaniel got up from his comfortable armchair and carefully approached the table. Seeing the Physics material he hesitatingly sat down, waiting and not receiving any reaction from the other occupant at the table. Making up his mind the lad exaggeratedly slowly finger spelled 'N-E-E-D H-E-L-P' and settled to wait for response.
Melissa finally raised her eyes and after some hesitation finger spelled back 'P-H-Y-S-I-C-S'. Though she could hardly catch the boy's signs, it couldn't possibly hurt to try and strike a conversation, even if he couldn't actually help her. Nathaniel raised an eyebrow in question; it was faster than signing and more likely to be understood by the girl. Melissa took it as an offer of assistance, not having expected that she opened her notebook and pointed out the tasks for homework.
Nathaniel glanced at the book and recognized the text he had read long ago. Physics he could help with; it was one of the subjects he knew well. But signing answers obviously wasn't going to work, no matter how willing they both were. He got up and went to get his laptop; coming back he retook his seat and opened a text editorial program. If they couldn't talk in his usual ways, they could still converse in a mutually understandable way. Looking back at the questions and briefly skimming through the book, Nathaniel decided to take his chances and try becoming a friend and not just an acquaintance of opportunity. Instead of writing down the answers, he typed where they could be found in the coursebook saying exactly the page and paragraph to read.
Melissa glanced at him questioningly and then back at his written words. A moments look at the book was enough to lighten her mood.
It was well after the midnight when they were finally finished. For the first time Nathaniel felt happy having learnt all that material long ago because now he could help someone else. Someone who was willing to talk to him.
When the boy made to get up, Melissa gently grabbed his hand to hold him and get his attention. 'W-A-I-T' she hurriedly finger spelled. Nathaniel sat back down and looked at her, waiting. The girl bit her lower lip and seemed to struggle with herself but finally made up her mind. 'W-A-N-T T-O G-O S-H-O-P-P-I-N-G' Her eyes looked expectantly at the lad. 'S-T-O-R-M I-S T-A-K-I-N-G U-S T-O M-A-L-L T-O-M-O-R-R-O-W' she really needed to learn ASL, so she could talk more efficiently with him.
Nathaniel hesitated for a few minutes; he had been shopping only a handful of times, and he had never gone alone, but this was one of the many opportunities to grow up for him, especially to make friends. He took a deep breath and finger spelled back 'S-U-R-E W-A-N-T M-E' with his eyebrows raise in question.
It took a moment for Melissa to understand what she had just been told, and she eagerly nodded several times.
Nathaniel broke into a huge smile. 'S-U-R-E' he finger spelled back.
Next morning Storm and the other six girls were mildly surprised to say the least when Melissa showed up with Nathaniel at her side.
"He's coming with us." the girl smiled in satisfaction.
Ororo merely shrugged, "then let's go." A few moments later she asked "have you told him the rules?" After getting a confirmation, they all piled up in a van and left for the mall.
When they finally arrived, Storm turned to the teenagers again. "I'm going to repeat myself, but you have four hours and then we meet here. Don't be late or this will be your last trip for a long time." She looked at Melissa with her eyebrows raised glancing at Nathaniel, and the girl nodded. "Alright, go." And the students dispersed as quickly as they could.
For the first hour Nathaniel was happy to allow Melissa to drag him wherever she wanted: clothes shop where he just politely smiled without signing anything at all, cosmetics shop where he couldn't make heads or tails of differences between various cremes, he even went to a lingerie shop where he spent his time in men's section or looking at the ceilings with his cheeks burning red.
Finally he begged off to go to an electronics shop. He did have his own purchases to make, but he skipped this part without telling his companion about it. Melissa huffed and motioned in general direction of the remaining part of the mall where she was going to be.
Even a month before holidays it was a well known fact who was going to stay over and who wasn't. For Nathaniel's delight Melissa was staying as well as a few other tolerable people. Now he just had to get some gifts for all of them. One thing was a certainty, nobody was expecting anything from him. Electronics for boys and jewelry for girls and he was going to be done. A few other whatnot on his way to meet others and he will be really done. The only natural problem most of the other students were going to have to face was not as issue for Nathaniel in the least: monetary resources; he had more than enough savings in his personal bank account, and having stable income from his early investments and freelancing job every other week wasn't hurting either.
Two hours later he was carrying his back full of parcels. After some looking here and there he caught up with Melissa again, and they had peaceful lunch together. It was long after they went to the van before they left to go back to the institute.
After the trip, Christmas came in no more than a blink of an eye.
Just before the dawn Nathaniel made a silent trip to the Christmas tree, which already had some parcels under it, to store all his presents; he hadn't signed any of them and wasn't going to. It simply didn't matter that people didn't know they were from him, and it was going to be fun to watch their reactions and speculations about who gave which gift to whom.
So, early in the Christmas morning Nathaniel was already done with his morning running and exercises and ate his breakfast. Clad in his customary white shirt with a tie and a black suit he was ready for the celebration. This year was different than the ones before. He couldn't help but think about something that Kate L. Bosher had said: 'Isn't it funny that at Christmas something in you gets so lonely for — I don't know what exactly, but it's something that you don't mind so much not having at other times.' As well as Jimmy Cannon's: 'Christmas is a holiday that persecutes the lonely, the frayed, and the rejected.' Yet there wasn't much he could do but delve even deeper into the wonderful world of numbers where he was never alone or lonely.
He was sitting on windowsills closest to the wall and quietly typing on his laptop; work done on holidays was paid twice as much as usually.
One by one other people filled into the living room. Some were fully clothed while others were still in their pyjamas, mostly kids. Everybody was chatting and laughing. Even though Nathaniel could read their lips, most of the time he felt left out; him being a true introvert and having never spent a longer period of time without his family wasn't helpful to his mood either. He shook his head to dislodge his sour thoughts and concentrated his eyes on watching Marry and Bobby handing out the gifts from under the Christmas tree.
Nathaniel couldn't help the smile spread through his lips seeing the girls gush over the jewelry and instantly begin speculating who the sender was because there was no sender's name. Almost as one everybody turned to the Professor, but he merely shrugged with a smile of his own and shook his head in 'no'.
Nathaniel was watching Melissa inspecting her silver bracelet made of silver with crystal details; it was in a form of dragon skin, quite suitable referring to the gal's talent: literally breath fire. When he saw professor being given a parcel from the stack. He was just able to catch the old man's words said with an amused smile: 'let's see what I'll be reading this evening' before the present was unwrapped. However, instead of books that every present given to the elder seemed to be, this one contained five pairs of thick knitted woolen socks decorated with colorful Christmas motifs. Charles Xavier truly laughed at the unexpected but much appreciated gift; it wasn't easy for an old man to stay warm during cold winters.
Nathaniel felt good seeing everybody laugh; it always felt good to give something to others and watch them openly smile in appreciation.
Sixthly, there are no random things; people have no imagination, and this world is too small. So expect to meet things you have encountered before or similar to them.
Finally it was a sunny day. Even if Logan's breath was still freezing after just leaving his mouth. Every person in their right minds was inside, preferably as close to the fire as possible without burning oneself. Everybody except Nathaniel and Melissa who were happily signing something sitting on a bench furthest from the manor.
A few minutes later silence was broken by a black van entering through the main gates. Closing his eyes Logan could easily hear a helicopter hovering just out of sight. This was the best give-away of his old acquaintance from Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division, a.k.a. SHIELD. True to the customs Nick Fury got out of the van. The men were old comrades from the times when Logan served in the secret military branch.
"Fury."
"Logan." All the pleasantries as usual.
"What d'you want?"
"A favor." The man clad in black combat suit said obviously deliberately turning his back to the gates. "In a form of information." He had come to Logan quite a few times to ask for help in dealing with uncontrollable people before, and vice versa was also true. But this time he only needed for the man to stay where he was with his eyes open.
"What do I know that you can't get?" Having a favor over Fury could be extremely useful in the future.
"Theoretically we could. But it's a long term surveillance job, one that my people would fail no more than a week after starting it. No, I need a friendly face to watch over that person and give me a call when something happens." True, a term 'friendly face' could hardly be associated with Logan, but alas those were his only options. Fury fell silent waiting for an answer, yet the man was neither giving a 'yes' nor a 'no'. He decided to elaborate a bit more. "See the guy sitting on that bench?" After receiving a confused nod, he went on. "What do you know about him?"
"Name is Nathaniel Kruner. Fourteen. Completely deaf and not a telepath. Orphan. Why?" Wolverine frowned not wanting to get the boy involved and generally seeing no connection between the man in front of him and the child.
"You got four out of five right." This left Logan thinking which detail could be the wrong one. "Doesn't matter. I need you to call me or anyone else in the S.H.I.E.L.D. when the boy disappears or decides to leave for good."
"Why? What do you want from him?" Logan had had his own issues with the organization and was not sending an innocent and defenseless boy to them, ever.
"Seriously?" Nick looked dumbfounded. "Kruner." He said as if it was an explanation by itself but got only a blank expression back. "Felipe Kruner?" Same blank expression. Fury sighed silently cursing all the secrets that had been kept even between the men working in his organization who had to trust each other with their lives. "Remember Spark?"
Logan scrunched his nose as if from stench. "Sparky? What does that son of a bitch have to do with anything?"
"His real name was Felipe Kruner; he was Nathaniel's grandfather. Given the old man's inclination towards literally bloody trainings, if we can get his grandson, we want him." Fury turned for his van waiting for him. "Don't worry, Logan. He'll be able to leave whenever he wants. No strings attached." He got into his car and left.
Logan merely grunted in annoyance remembering the old times, especially the young lieutenant. During the war every few months Felipe Kruner was given a batch of new recruits. Half of them left crumpled under enormous pressure, the other half survived the war to tell the tale. The old Kruner was probably the only person who was most of the time even crazier about trainings than Logan was. Finally making a connection in his mind between the two young men: one from his memories and the other sitting in front of him, Logan shook his head in displeasure. All the odd trainings of the youngster suddenly didn't seem so odd anymore.
Seventhly, trust those who are worth it.
It was becoming more and more difficult with every day. Melissa was one of the very few people who had put in some effort to learn ASL and converse with Nathaniel. What started as a few words now and then became a regular conversation every evening and sometimes during meals because they could talk while eating, no need to swallow before saying something. Now during the Christmas Holidays it was downright impossible to see one without the other at least nearby; they would meet in the morning and say their 'goodnight' late in the nights.
On one hand, it was a pleasure for Nathaniel to have someone young to chat with, something he had wanted all his life. On the other hand, he hadn't told her anything about his upbringing and especially about what exactly he could or couldn't do; so far he had happily gone with what she had assumed, no matter how utterly wrong at times it was.
So now Nathaniel was battling with himself. He knew that honesty was one of the most important and basic things in friendship, and it had to start somewhere but where? Finally he decided to get rid of the most annoying and limiting thing first. Then if there still was anything left to salvage from their friendship, he would slowly go on with the others.
It was a beautiful January morning, and Nathaniel prepared a basket of snacks: hot chocolate, muffins, cookies and tea with lemon, to take for a picnic. He knew how much Melissa loved going for a walk while it was still quiet and safe from snowballs outside. As soon as the girl showed up downstairs fully clothed for a stroll, he joined her motioning towards a bench under some beautiful white trees where nobody would be able to see or hear them.
When they settled down, Melissa looked at him curiously. She knew that the lad in front of her had a habit of pleasing her whenever he wanted to be romantic, but this time seemed different, more serious than all those before. An amused smile graced her lips, and she signed 'bribery' in perfect ASL with her eyebrows raised in question.
Nathaniel seemed to take a long steadying breath and finally made up his mind. It was all or nothing: the first one from many more to come. He smiled sheepishly and nodded. This was proving a lot harder than he had expected, but there was no being a gentleman while lying to a lady. He finally gathered whatever courage he had, yet he still turned his eyes away from her so as not to see her reaction, and after months of silence used his well honed vocal skills: "I might be deaf, but I'm not mute." He said in perfect English.
"I know you are deaf..." Melissa's voice trailed off, as what had just transpired slowly sank in. She didn't know where to start: 1) the fact that Nathaniel could speak, 2) the fact that she was definitely the first one to know that in the manor; others would have made him speak constantly had they known, 3) the obvious and enormous trust he was putting in her not to reveal this to anyone else, or 4) the beautiful and endearing though a bit raspy from disuse voice. The fact that the person she had been talking to daily would hide something this important from her was a painful and awakening realization how little she truly knew about the young man sitting at her side. Sadly uncontrolled pain turns into anger. "How could you? I have been telling you all about myself, and you forgot to mention this? I thought you trusted me more than this! I thought that we were friends! ..." She finally fell silent when she noticed that Nathaniel only briefly glimpsed in her direction and was instead watching trees covered in snow. After another of his glances she started thinking again. "Right. No point in yelling at you. It's not like you can hear me anyway."
"I can read your lips, though" Nathaniel quietly murmured turning to finally face her.
"What?" Melissa was losing her temper. This was supposed to be a nice and quiet day, not full of surprises. "So all this signing was to... There was no need for it? All this ignoring those who don't sign was just a childish whim?"
Nathaniel clenched his fists in order not to sign as he had gotten used to again over the last few months. "Understanding communication without this plethora of noises was the only way for any of you to start understanding me. And even with this it's not possible, not completely anyway." The lad fell silent looking away; this was not happening the way he had hoped for. Yet there was no going back. "When I lost the people who were an entire world for me, I didn't think I will ever utter another sound. Yet here we are." He stood up and looked at the sky not seeing anything. "Today is going to be a long day. The morning is bright and hopeful." He leveled his eyes on her beautiful face that contained so many emotions and unspoken questions. "It's up to you how the evening will look like." And he walked away down the path in the little forest under snow falling from trees.
Eigthly, a real friendship is too important to be ruined. No matter what.
In less than a month Nathaniel and Melissa made a lot more progress as a couple than in four months before that. One of the two was ecstatic, the other one was not.
It had been a great relief for the lad that the beautiful girl took his ability to speak and read lips the good way, even if she had taken a few days to get used to that. They were still signing in front of others, but when they were positive that they were alone, they let lose and Nathaniel could almost feel as if he was talking to an old friend. From short phrases here and there to long conversations, from an occasional stroll to going out as an official couple, each little step brought them closer together.
However, there was no being a gentleman in this relationship, especially if the girl didn't know the most important basic things about him. True be told, Nathaniel was feeling as if he was constantly lying, stealing time from her. And once again it was time for the two of them to talk.
It was only early February, and there was still plenty of snow to watch and admire. Another basket of snacks and Nathaniel was waiting for Melissa to come down for a silent walk in the morning with him. When she came to the mansion's doors and saw him, she smiled. But one glimpse into his eyes, and her smile was short lived. They were on the porch when she asked: "Straight to the bench? Or is it going to be a shorter talk, and we could have a walk before it?"
Nathaniel gave a sad smile back and steered them towards the bench that couldn't be seen from the house's entrance yet wasn't far away from it. They took their seats and stayed silent for a few moments.
Melissa was the first to speak. "What's bothering you now?"
Nathaniel took a deep breath, and a sad involuntary smile found its way on his lips. "My conscience, actually."
"You found someone you like better than me, have another girlfriend?" Melissa's ability to ask the hard questions always left much to be admired.
"Huh?" For once Nathaniel was left speechless. "No. Nothing like that." A tiny smile played across the girl's lips while the boy was stammering his way through the vehement denial. "Though I do wish we could stay only friends for the rest of the time to come." He finally dared to look into her eyes rather than lips.
To say that Melissa's eyes conveyed hurt was an understatement. Those few words and the gal was crushed. She slowly took a deep breath; there was no use in shouting at Nathaniel anyway. "Why? What did I do wrong now?"
"Nothing. It's not you, it's me." With every cell in his body Nathaniel wanted to laugh and say that all this was just a joke, and that they were still all good. Alas this was not to happen. He simply couldn't shake off the feeling of ruining the girl's life so easily.
"You do realize that instead of making sense, you are speaking all cliche?" The girl was forcing herself to keep her head clear and not give into her heart; this was the only way to talk to the guy so that he would understand and respond to her.
Nathaniel forced what he knew was going to be the last tiny smile for a long while; nothing was going to stay the same after this conversation. He took a deep breath and with pain in his voice asked: "Remember how all of you wanted to know my mutation?" The beauty in front of him nodded with a dumbfounded expression; speak about a good way to change topics. "Do you still want to know it?"
"Sure. We've all been dying to know it."
"But do you want to know it? Really want it?" The girl nodded again not seeing a reason for all these questions. Nathaniel took the last deep breath. "I don't age physically. At all. Haven't since I was twelve."
After a moment of silence and rapid blinking of Melissa: "You don't look twelve. Rather fourteen, maybe even fifteen." She critically looked him over.
"I looked like this during my twelfth birthday. I looked like this during my graduation from high school when I was fourteen years old." Finally this enormous burden was out of his way to live.
It took a few minutes for the girl to process the words. "Graduation? High school?" Melissa glanced the lad in front of her over again. "You mean secondary school? Right? Like ten grades?" This would be easier to imagine.
The guy slowly shook his head. "No. High School." Slightly nodding his head sideways, he elaborated to end the persuasion. "Let's just say that Mr. Charles Xavier is not the only one who has a Ph. D. in here." A tiny self-satisfied smirk graced his lips.
Melissa's eyes went wide. "You're a professor? Wow. Just wow." A few blinks later she suddenly leaned back. "You are not like fifty, are you?"
Nathaniel frowned for a second before bursting into laughter. The girl couldn't help a small smile of her own; the laughter was simply contagious and so pleasant to hear. "No. I am not fifty." He was still laughing but a bit later sobered ever so slightly. "Just twenty-six."
Silence stretched on for some time before Melissa broke in: "So a professor, huh?"
Nathaniel sobered instantly but at least didn't have that sad undertone to his eyes. "Doctor, to be precise. In Economics." He chewed on his lower lip before making up his mind to get everything out. "And master's in Engineering. And in May I have my exams to get master's degree in Statistics."
This would have been a lot to take in to anyone, especially when the one talking looked like he was fourteen years old. "But how? You aren't even thirty."
"Twelve years of studies and more than enough free time for reading." Nathaniel smirked looking at the girl's dumbfounded expression.
"So what now?"
"I have my studies to finish, then technically I'm free to do whatever I want."
"Statistics? As in Mathematics? Does that mean you can help me with my homework?" A tiny smile of hers and contagious laughter of his followed this conversation.
Ninethly, if you need help, and someone is offering it to you, take it. You can ask questions later.
Situation had gone from bad to worse in a matter of hours. Scott Summers, a teacher of mathematics in Charles Xavier's school for Gifted Youngsters and a powerful mutant with a destructive ability, as long as his eyes were open, was missing. Early in the morning he had gone to a shop and now, eight hours later, wasn't back or responding to his mobile phone.
In the last few months there had been many police reports about illegal groups who were kidnapping, torturing and experimenting on mutants and then killing them. The X-men had little choice but for professor Xavier to use Cerebro in order to find Scott in time to get him back alive.
Now half an hour later Ororo, Jean and Logan were in one of the many study rooms in the mansion waiting for the professor to come. The white-haired woman was trying to reassure the young one that everything was going to be fine in the end while Logan was pacing the entire length of the room. There was one more person quietly sitting on a window sill and taping at his computer. The adults didn't want for the children to know about what had happened, so all classes were released and having a free day under supervision of older students like Marry and Bobby. But Nathaniel's deafness was his ticket to a private free day, and because no one was signing, the adults didn't really care where he was spending his time.
The professor finally came in. "We have a location. Storm, bring it up." The table's in the middle of the room surface changed to show a 3d view of what appeared to be a lot covered with nothing but concrete, smooth like a parking lot. Beneath the surface was a maze of passages.
"Tunnels, corridors, sewers. There are hundreds if not thousands of them!" Logan was seething like in every other situation when he felt useless and powerless. "Can't you narrow it down a little more, Charles?"
"Scott is underground, somewhere in those tunnels. That's all I can give you. Ororo, Logan, you'll have to find him the old-fashioned way. I will come with you. Jean, I need you to stay here with kids." Professor was the only one trying to stay calm.
"How exactly are we going to find him, Charles." Logan always preferred a clear plan form the beginning.
"I won't be able to contact him in there because of so much metal and concrete. I'm afraid you will have to smell him or, otherwise, just look the old way by going through everything."
Everybody knew this way was going to take hours, even days to work. But there wasn't much else they could do. All except one. Nathaniel's mind was going into overload: on one hand, he had no wish of whatsoever to reveal his mutant ability; on the other hand, searching for people in this way was exactly what he had been trained for by his grandfather. Minutes later when others were getting ready to leave the room, he stood up, stuffed his computer in his ever present bag and turned to the other people in the room.
"You won't be able to smell Mr. Summers in those sewers." The lad spoke looking at Logan. Everybody stilled hearing the unfamiliar voice and turned to the boy who went on: "Or find him telepathically." He said looking at the professor. "I, on the other hand, can find him if he is conscious and letting out any sort of sound. At the very worst, I can point you in the direction of people's voices." All adults were openly staring at the child in front of them. No one had any idea of his possible mutation, and it had been deducted that his ability was latent or still too undeveloped to be noticed; they had no idea that he was proficient enough in wielding it so as not to reveal it in any way for so long. "My sense of vibration is mutated and, though I cannot hear noises like you can, I have learnt to discern specific people's voices, Mr. Summer's is one of them. Every surface absorbs sound waves; my ability is to reach out with my sense and recognize the one I am looking for, find its source and its location. I can help."
Silence for a few minutes descended on the room. Finally prof. Xavier spoke in barely contained excitement "Then let's go. We have no time to waste." He turned to his young student. "We leave in seven minutes. Take what you need and meet us at the jet."
"I'm ready." Nathaniel whispered and left in the general direction of the plane.
Half an hour later they landed on a plain concrete lot covered in snow with a few metal lids for what seemed to be a sewage system. Everybody was dressed in warm clothes: the professor was mainly staying in the jet with heating system running, Logan and Storm were in their warm costumes. Nathaniel, on the other hand, couldn't afford much clothing: he needed skin contact with the icy concrete to be more accurate and faster in his part of the job. The two younger adults moved the sewers' lids away to grant them enter.
Nathaniel knelt on the ground and scratched the snow and ice away. He took off his gloves and trainers to be barefoot as well as have bare hands. "I will tell you exactly where to go in order to get to Scott: how many steps in which direction and when and where to turn. Make no mistake: I am deaf, so it will be only a one-way communication. If you don't hear something and go the wrong way, or if you don't understand something, I won't be able to help you. Now better get down there and get used to it; I need a few minutes to find him and then trace a path for you to go to him."
Seven minutes later Logan was seriously starting to grumble. He was cold; the place was smelly, and they still hadn't even started going anywhere. He was about to complain to Charles when he heard Nathaniel speak over a radio, "go to your left straight for 48 steps." Finally a clear direction and length of it.
They barely made it there when another direction came: "now turn left and walk for 38 steps." It was getting interesting how the kid knew exactly how many steps it took for Logan to cross certain distances, another question to ask when everything was over.
42 minutes later Charles Xavier was getting seriously worried. It was good to know that there was only a little distance to walk in order to get to Scott and that the young lad was alone making it an easy grab for Logan and Ororo. However, Nathaniel, with his hands firmly on the concrete and kneeling on the ice-cold ground, was pale as snow itself and the boy's lips were turning blueish. He would have gladly pulled the child back in the plane, but the kid still had to lead the young adults back to safety.
Finally came the message everybody was waiting for: "We have him! He's alive."
Unfortunately, Nathaniel had his own message to deliver: "You have people coming your way! I will tell you the way, but you must walk quickly. Turn around and go straight through all crossroads till you cannot go further without turning. It will be about 247 steps running."
Many twists and turns later the three adults were getting close to the exit. Charles went to turn on the engines of their jet when he heard Nathaniel once again over the radio. "Turn right. 26 steps straight. Then left. 64 steps straight. Then right, 42 steps and get up the ladders." The youngster's voice was barely audible and seemed rushed out. When Xavier finally rolled to the back of the plane, he saw the young boy laying on his side with closed eyes. It didn't take much mind probing to understand that the child was unconscious.
A few minutes later Ororo climbed up to the surface closely followed by Logan with Scott slung over his shoulder. The young man had no glasses; his clothes were ragged, and he was barefoot. Various cuts and bruises were only too visible on his chest and arms.
"What happened?" Storm knelt near the unconscious boy.
"He fainted. Bring him up here, and we can leave." the professor went to the front of the plane.
Half an hour later they were back in the mansion. Scott and Nathaniel were promptly taken to the infirmary in the basement. Both lads were still unresponsive.
Jean was already at Scott's side when Melissa came to see Nathaniel. "How is he?" She whispered looking at the boy.
Ororo came to the girl's side. "I know he looks young and fragile, but he is just exhausted. What he did took a lot from him. Don't worry, he'll be alright. We'll let you know when he wakes up." The girl nodded and left. The woman watched her go and then turned back to the boy in front of her. Even an hour after coming back to the mansion he was still unnaturally cold, and whereas it was obvious what was wrong with Scott, the boy was supposed to have woken up or at least gotten warmer in the time they were back. She was going to stay and watch both young lads for the night.
The next day brought little changes. Both young men were deep asleep only from time to time turning their heads sideways. On the third day most of Scott's cuts and burning marks turned angry red from likely infection and his body temperature started slowly raising while Nathaniel's was adamantly staying below 97F (36,1C).
Finally when there was little change for the better on the fifth day, doctor and friend Hank McKoy was asked to come. By that time Scott's temperature was constantly around 100F though he was waking up every few hours; Nathaniel, on the other hand, started lightly coughing and it was deducted that he had caught a cold, though he never truly woken up only every now and then opening his eyes to close them at once.
"It's only a little cough, right?" In the evening Ororo eventually caught Hank alone. "His temperature is low and that's a good sign?" Her doubts and worry were easily noticeable in her voice.
"I would rather have him burning. Then we could fight the heat." Hank shook his head looking at the youngest patient of his. "Burning means his body is fighting the infection. Low temperature means his body is too weak to fight."
Days went on, and apparent poison was agonizingly slowly retreating from Scott's body, but the boy's fits of coughing were only getting worse and not better; instead of low 97F Nathaniel's temperature shot up to 102F in only a few hours.
Another week passed before Scott was allowed back to his room. The young lad, on the other hand, was now being constantly treated with antibiotics. Though he was waking up now, he was too weak to actually get up or stay awake for longer periods. It didn't take long for the X-men to put Nathaniel in an isolated ward to which only the doctor had access.
Melissa wanted to spend as much time in the infirmary as possible, but was always promptly ushered out of the room. Another fortnight passed before Nathaniel woke up. He had oxygen tubes in his nose that were supposed to help him breathe, and his hands were wired with IV's. He barely managed to glance around when a stranger covered in blue fur with a white coat came to him. The boy tried to lift his head but let it fall back on a pillow at once; nausea was too much to be easily ignored.
"How are you feeling?" Hank asked coming closer to his patient. Only silence followed his question for awhile.
Melissa heard the query while coming into the infirmary. "He won't answer." Hank turned to the girl with unasked questions on his face. "He is completely deaf." She smiled at the young teenager laying on his bed. "At his best days he manages to concentrate enough to read our lips, but I don't think he is in a mood to do that now." Her musings were interrupted by a long fit of coughing coming from the lad. However this time there was a little blood on his lips when he finally laid back. "What is really wrong with him?"
Hank glanced between the two teenagers. "A cold, bronchitis and now it descended into his lungs. Pneumonia, from what I can tell." After a moment he added, "they said he spent nearly two hours barefoot and without gloves kneeling on ice."
"He hates ice. Or cold in general." Melissa took a seat behind a transparent partition. It was going to be a long wait before the young man got better enough to leave the ward.
Tenthly, never show how surprised you really are; more likely than not you will look like idiots.
It was another fortnight before Nathaniel was allowed to leave the infirmary for a few hours. He was still supposed to be in bed and dutifully went back to sleep there every night, but it's not like the x-men were always sitting at his side; it wasn't difficult to slip away as long as his coughing fits subsided. Finally he was asked to come to professor's office to talk.
The adults were sitting in a circle with two empty seats; Nathaniel had yet to take his, and Logan preferred to stand. The young man sat in his place comfortably putting his hands on his armchair's sides; he was wearing a mask covering his mouth so he wouldn't infect others.
"It's good to see you up and around." Charles Xavier started the meeting. Nathaniel merely nodded with a small smile which went unseen by others because of his mask.
"I heard it was you who was my main rescuer." Scott smiled at the teenager. "Thank you."
Nathaniel's darting eyes to see who was talking and what they were saying was unnerving Logan. The older man was too familiar with such darting eyes looking for points to be ambushed from and ways to retreat.
"We have known you for half a year, but I feel like I have barely any idea about who you are and what you can do." Ororo said in a mild tone which by itself went unnoticed by the boy who was reading her lips rather than actually hearing her.
Nathaniel took a minute to decide what to tell the people in front of him and what to omit. "My name is Nathaniel Kruner. I am completely deaf. And last year I lost my entire family within a few days."
"That much we know." Professor Xavier said exaggeratedly pronouncing every word. "But how do you understand what we are saying?"
"I read lips. When I concentrate enough for it, that is." Nathaniel's acing throat wasn't making speaking any easier.
"Not that I minded in the least, on the contrary actually, but how exactly did you find me?" Scott looked curiously at the teenager while Jean took his hand.
Nathaniel took a few minutes to subdue his need to cough in order to think of a way to explain physics to the adults. "Every object consists of moving, vibrating particles, and sound waves affect the way the atoms move; all surfaces absorb sound waves more or less." Logan started scratching his neck hearing the 'academia talks'; Ororo couldn't wait for the bottom line of the explanation either. "I have a mutated, enhanced sense of vibrations around me letting me recognize the unique sound waves created by an exact, known person. Conversationally, by touching hard surfaces and expanding my senses, I can find another person as long as they are talking or using their voices in any other way."
Another fit of coughing with a little blood ending up on Nathaniel's lips and the professor X was ready to let the youngster go for the day. However, Logan had other ideas. "I knew your grandfather, Felipe."
Nathaniel's posture instantly became defensive with his arms as well as legs unconsciously crossing in front of him. "And... Your point being?"
"He was a maniac when trainings were concerned; it was simply never enough for him." Logan curiously watched the cold glint spark in the young man's eyes. Silence stretched on as Nathaniel refused to answer. "You won't make me believe that he had you for over a decade and didn't teach you anything more than what's usual."
This time the youngster's reply was instantaneous. "And what is usual? I have been home schooled all my life taking tests in a local school only once every semester. Forgive me if I never paid attention what the official curriculum was."
"What exactly did he teach you?" Logan wasn't giving up so easily.
But he was only met with a wolfish grin. "The usual."
Ororo decided to interrupt the boys' game till they were still only talking with words rather than fist; it was a commonly known secret that the older man wanted revenge for the lost duel all those months ago. "So what happens now?"
This was Nathaniel's easy way out. He could say nothing and be let go immediately. Or he could use the chance that he had all adults of the school in one place, tell them the most important things about himself, or at least some of them, and then see what happened. He decided on the latter. "I stopped physically aging when I was twelve years old; conversationally, I am twenty six. So I guess I won't surprise anyone by saying that I have some exams at the end of this school-year in a local university to get my master's degree in Statistics. In the mean time I can either continue my 'lessons', or I can take over Math's classes, for honestly right now you cannot control the kids and they barely understand what they are learning."
All the adults' jaws met the floor.
"Any questions?"
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