I own nothing. Slash. Some mentions of self-harm. My apologies if my French is off. Got it from a Translator. REVIEW AND CHECK BACK ON THE 'EYES' CHAPTER FOR UPDATED COLORS!

"Hello, Professor Cross," Hank said as I walked into the kitchen.

"Hello," I said looking around the room, "Do you have any idea if there is some tea here?"

"Over the sink."

"Thank you."

As I get everything out for my tea I couldn't help but focus in on Hank's emotions. He held so much fear and self-hatred. Was it because of his mutation or something else?

That was the one thing I hated more then anything. I hated feeling self-hatred. At the end of the day the only person you could truly rely on was yourself. There was no point in hating yourself.

Yes, I knew that sounded weird coming from someone who once pointed out he was suicidal. In my defense, I don't hate myself. In fact, I love everything that I am. I'm just not very good at handling everything I am. If that made sense.

Anyway, this was about Hank. There had to be some way to get him to see that there was no reason to hate himself. I just had to figure that way out. I mean, how hard could it be?

"Hank," I said sitting across from him, "What's wrong?"

"What makes you think something is wrong?" Hank asked not looking up from his book.

"Empath."

A soft sigh fell from Hank's lips before he finally looked up at me. The self-hatred seemed to grow as he stared at me. I felt blood start to drip down my leg as I started to push a sense of calm at him.

Charles had told me that I was not to use this part of my power until he and I were able to talk about it more, but I had to. I wasn't going to let someone sit in front of me and not do everything that I could.

"Talk to me, Hank," I said softly, "Nothing you say will leave this room if you don't want it to. Think of me as if I was the school counselor. All you have to do is talk."

Hank continued to stare at me before slowly nodding his head. He wanted to talk to me. That was a good thing. Talking almost always helped at least a little. Now to wait for him to say something.

"I'm a freak," Hank said softly.

"Okay," I said with a nod.

"What? You're supposed to say that I'm not. Say that being a mutant isn't all that bad. That it'll all be okay. I just have to learn how to live like this."

"Why would I say that? Hank, it's not me who has to live with this. It's not Charles or Alex or Sean. It's you. It's your voice that you need to listen to. This though. It's not going to go away. So, what are you going to do about it?"

Feeling confusion fill Hank I realized that he was probably thinking about what I said. Right now that was all I could do for him. Although I couldn't exactly move to leave right now.

I hadn't really done much to help Hank in the way of emotions, but it was still enough that there was now a small puddle of blood on the ground. Oh, this was not good at all.

"Hank," Charles said rolling into the kitchen, "Would you mind giving Jazz and I a moment alone?"

With a nod of his head Hank left the kitchen. I could feel the worry rolling off of him and I couldn't blame him. Even without my gift I could see just how angry Charles was right now.

Without saying anything he rolled into the room and placed a towel in my hand. Alright so he was extremely mad at me, but knew that no matter what I was going to use my gift. Now for him to say something.

Truthfully though there was nothing he could say that would make me not use my gift. I loved helping people more than I could explain. I couldn't believe that he couldn't see that.

Hank was just one person and as much as he hated himself I knew that that situation could be fixed rather easily. There were so many other people out there that I could help.

So what if I got ripped apart as the emotions of others slowly destroyed me? At least I was doing something that I loved. At least I was helping people that needed help. I was going to do that.

Still, I didn't like that Charles was upset with me. I hated whenever anyone was upset with me. When someone I had a crush on was upset with me though it was so much worse.

"I thought we agreed on you not using that side of your powers until you got it better under control," Charles said calmly.

"No," I said shaking my head, "You agreed on that. I agreed that I'd work with you to help me, but I'm not stopping."

"You're going to die."

"I helped Hank."

Charles stared at me before taking the now blood soaked rag from my hands. He stared at it angrily for a moment before placing the towel on the table in front of me and turning away.

"Cornflower," Charles said softly.

"Confident," I said equally as soft, "I'm sorry, Charles. I wish there was a different way, but this is how it has to be. I have to help them."

"I go from being friends with a man who will do anything, even die, for revenge to being friends with a man who will do anything, even die, to try to protect people who he doesn't even know."

Staring at Charles I wondered why he was telling me this. He didn't seem like the type of person that would open up like this to someone that he didn't know. What had changed?

"Did he?" I asked kneeling in front of him.

"Did he what?" Charles asked staring into my eyes

"Did he die?"

"No. He left. He just left."

As Charles spoke I noticed that his voice took on a slightly…Broken quality. Whomever it was that left must have meant a lot to the man. Him leaving must have broken his heart.

Why was Charles telling me all of this? What did he think would happen now that I knew? Or was he just so tired of keeping it all in that he was telling the first person he could?

I didn't like that. Charles was trying to take care of everything around the school, but it seemed as if he needed someone to take care of him. I didn't see a problem with me doing that.

Placing a hand on his leg I slowly started to push calming feelings towards him. If I was able to clear his mind then I hopefully I'd be able to help him. I just wanted to help him.

"Stop that," Charles said pulling away from me.

"Charles, you need…" I tried to explain.

"I do not need faked emotions."

"I'm not faking your emotions. I'm helping you clear your mind."

"You're hurting yourself."

"I'd be more hurt if stood back and watched a friend in pain when I knew I could do something about it."

A soft sigh slipped from Charles lips before he shook his head. It looked like he wanted to say something, but couldn't figure out the right words. That seemed like something that didn't happen a lot to the man.

Charles had brought me here to teach the children mostly, but, on an unconscious level, he brought me here for himself as well. Even without using my gift I would be able to pickup if he was lying.

He needed someone that was going to call him on all of his lies. His students were never going to do that. Okay, I had no problem being the one to do that. Though it might mean him hates me at the end of the day.

"You're eyes are gold again," Charles said softly.

"They're that color a lot," I said nodding, "That and emerald."

"What color does that stand for?"

Standing up slowly I turned away from him for a moment. I needed to get my head on straight before I answered that. Downing the last of my tea I placed the mug in the sink before turning to him.

"I pray you never find out, Charles," I said staring into his eyes, "I pray you never find out."

Without another word I made my way out of the kitchen knowing that I shouldn't have said that. After last night I had given Charles many reasons not to trust me. Now, it was like I was begging him to look into my mind.

Maybe in a way I was. I hated talking about myself. Hated people being concerned about me in anyway. With Charles he could see directly into my mind and know what I needed when I needed it. It could be good for me.

I was walking through the Common Room to get into the library when the door slammed in my face. Sighing I turned around and saw that Charles was slowly rolling into the room.

"What does emerald mean?" Charles asked as the door behind him closed.

"Charles," I said sighing.

"Tell me or I will be forced to look into your mind."

Sighing once more I fell onto the couch and buried my face in my hands. I didn't know what I was supposed to do. As much as I wanted to open up to the telepath I just didn't know how to explain everything that was going on in my mind to anyone.

Was it supposed to be this hard opening up to another being? Who was I kidding. I didn't belong around other people. I knew that. What was I even thinking trying to be a teacher?

I stood up a second later and slowly moved around Common Room until I was in front of Charles. Kneeling in front of the man I rested my head on his legs and closed my eyes.

Before I could say anything Charles was resting a hand on the side of my head and tilting my head up until we were staring at each other. Slowly he moved his other hand up and rested it on the side of his head.

As the silence filled the room I watched Charles slowly go through my mind. Memory after memory ran through my mind quicker then I thought was possible. Was he really understanding everything that he was seeing?

"You speak French?" Charles asked calmly.

"Oui," I whispered as my eyes shut.

"When did you learn?"

"I was…"

"In French."

My eyes slowly opened until I was looking into Charles eyes once more. Did he understand French or did he want me to explain the things that were going on in my memories?

"J'avais dix ans. Je n'ai pas d'amis quand j'étais plus jeune. Je n'ai toujours pas. Je détestais l'idée d'aller dans ma maison et d'être seule. Ma mère venait de me quitter. J'ai commencé à aller dans les classes d'apprentissage annexe et en prenant au hasard."

"I didn't understand a word of that."

Laughing softly I couldn't help but smile. Why Charles had wanted me to speak in French if he didn't understand it I had no idea, but I was willing to amuse him, as long as it didn't hurt us in the end.

"I was ten," I repeated in English, "I didn't have friends when I was younger. I still don't. I hated the idea of going into my home and being alone. My Mother had just left me. I started to go to the learning annex and taking random classes."

"You're fluent in it now?" Charles asked calmly.

"I am."

"Would you like to teach French as well?"

"J'aimerais beaucoup que. I would love that."

Charles nodded his head calmly before pulling away from me fully. As he did I saw so much sadness in his eyes that the only thing I wanted to do was pull him into a hug and erase everything he had seen.

"Suicidal," Charles said softly, "Emerald means your suicidal."

"Oui," I said with a nod.

"It'll be okay, Jazz. I'll help you."

"I don't know if you can, Charles."