I do not own X-Men anything.
And I'm still attempting to process Apocalypse, ha.
Dream On
". . . look in the mirror . . ."
A typical day in the fall of 1974.
Hive of activity.
Noise.
Clatter.
Chatter.
Voices.
Music.
". . . lines on my face getting clearer . . ."
Children. Teenagers. People
Everywhere.
Well, not that many.
Less than two dozen students.
A fourth or so that many teachers.
Handful of assorted support staff.
". . . past is gone . . ."
So, not that many really.
Especially considering the vast size of Xavier Manor.
But after so long with so few, even after six months, Charles Xavier still found himself in a state of mild, pleasant shock at the positive turn of events of the past year and a half.
". . . dusk to dawn . . ."
Searched. Searched, they had searched using Cerebro. He and Hank and some of the others.
They had searched for other mutants.
Mutants that needed support. Needed shelter.
To bring to the mansion.
". . . that the way . . . got their dues in life to pay . . ."
He had been sober for a year and a half from his addiction to Hank's well-meaning regeneration serum.
The serum that Hank had invented to help his suffering friend.
That Charles himself had come to abuse.
So much so that he had lost himself in it. And his pain over losing Raven.
So much so that he had nearly allowed the entire world to begin to be destroyed.
All for his own selfish petulance.
". . . nobody knows . . . and where it goes . . ."
Logan the Wolverine, a future man from the end of the world, had fought mutant tooth over mutant nail to keep that from happening.
To save him from himself.
To save them all from the end of the world.
And then, just as Charles had begun to find his way back, Logan the Wolverine had vanished.
And they couldn't find him.
It troubled him still.
". . . everybody's sin . . . lose to know how to win . . ."
But he must move on, must keep going.
For the sake of those who needed him.
So many that needed him. Needed them.
A year and a half confined to the wheelchair.
A year and a half learning once more to control the voices, the cries that reached out to him.
They had been worse than ever. More anguished, more desperate.
Excruciating, it had been excruciating to endure at first.
". . . learn from fools and from sages . . ."
He had been so weak, so very, very weak.
But the interaction with his future self, the one with no hair and ancient eyes still full of enduring hope, had stayed with him.
His words. Their meaning.
And those ancient eyes.
". . . the things . . . come back to you . . ."
And Charles Xavier had known he had to persevere, overcome.
He worked at it every day.
Every single day.
Sometimes he couldn't survive an entire day all at once.
". . . with me . . . sing for the year . . ."
Sometimes he could only survive by the hour.
The minute.
One second to the next.
But he had done it.
". . . for the laughter . . . sing for the tear . . ."
So far.
And now, rolling smoothly through the one open wing of Xavier Manor, he was glad he had.
Grateful.
Because the less than twenty students milling around him now had a safe haven, a home in which to live.
Grow their powers.
And safely find acceptance.
". . . with me . . . if it's just for today . . ."
Initially, new students typically slunk in, embarrassed and afraid of their powers.
It never failed to bring joy to Charles' heart to see them open up. Begin to let go of their fear and learn to embrace their gifts.
Accept them.
And each other.
Tucked away within the countryside of upper state New York, they felt safe.
Cared for.
Protected.
". . . take you away . . ."
To the outside world, they might be carnival sideshows, freaks.
But here in the safe haven of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, they were simply kids.
Kids who liked to laugh and joke around.
Play basketball. Watch TV.
Hang out in the sunshine.
". . . dream on . . . dream on . . ."
Kids who hated homework, contrived to skip class.
And whispered about the adults of the school.
Fascinating mutants like 'Rollin' Professor X' and 'Claws McCoy'.
'Sticky Fingers' Hope and 'Chloroform You with Her Brains' Chloe.
But it was all in good fun.
". . . dream on . . . dream on . . ."
And they never whispered very much. Or very loudly. Or very harshly.
Because they all knew. Each and every one of them knew exactly where they would be, had been, before the sanctuary of Xavier's.
It wasn't easy, overseeing the first mutant academy.
Especially under the scrutiny of those humans who wanted nothing more than to subjugate mutants to absolute rule and control out of misunderstanding and fear.
Both worse and better after Erik's little catastrophe.
But so far, it had worked.
Not perfectly, no.
". . . dream until your dream comes true . . ."
But at least they were trying.
He paused in his ruminations.
The song was quite good.
A floating, unassuming voice. But the lyrics were quite apropos and inspirational in their simplicity.
Until that average mellow, floating voice changed.
Rose up and evolved into something else.
". . . dream on . . . dream on . . ."
And stunned Professor X forgot his ruminations for a moment.
What the bloody hell was that? Oh dear, sure he isn't a mutant? Those are some powerful sonic waves, aren't they? Oh dear.
Then he managed to refocus himself on what had become his life's endeavor.
The school.
The safe haven for the children.
It was all going along swimmingly.
There was just one thing at this moment that weighed particularly on his mind.
Professor X smiled thinly to himself.
And rolled on in quest of his . . .
". . . dream on . . . dream until your dream comes true . . ."
Hello! Interested in another X-Men fic? I'm going to be spanning the time between DoFP and Apocalypse. Using the mutants we know and love/hate. As well as my OCs Chloe and Hope.
As for this first chapter, I've gotten a little obsessed with the original recording of Aerosmith's 'Dream On' and decided to use it for my theme of this story.
Plus, as mentioned, I can see Professor X hearing Steven Tyler's screech for the first time and thinking 'mutant?' because it's like, 'what just happened' when you are unprepared (and sometimes prepared) to hear it. In my opinion anyway. ;)
Anyway, I'll be updating frequently I think, though not on any particular schedule. (3 kids, 2 of them under 2, yeah, it takes time and effort, ha)
So, say hi if you're interested because . . .
Everybody appreciates feedback. Leave a review if you like.
