A/N: Sorry for the lack of updates. Had, y'know, crap going on.
Chapter 10
"We've got more time," Jim whispers, a month later. "Mags wants to see what Xavier does with this new Cerebra machine thing. He said hold off on the kill, till he gives the say-so."
Laura bristles. She is already a ball of agitation; Jim has been delaying the kill forever, because Jean's not giving in and sleeping with him. She, on the other hand, has remained in her own bed, sans partner, because she refuses to make a connection. Or, rather, to let the connection go further.
She has, however, been watching Julian from a distance. She'd felt hurt (despite knowing better) when he'd gone on a few dates; he didn't sleep with them though.
Life at the mansion is pretty sweet. There's academic activities, dances, and do-gooder activities as one of Xavier's X-men. Laura has participated in these, and has been more interested in them than Jim, who feigns interest to win Jean's favor.
…
"Go on, ask him."
"No," Laura hisses. Jim's bugging her to ask Julian on a date; a double date. So that her brother can ultimately bag Jean. He says the redhead has been talking about how fun going out with a bunch of kids would be, and about double dates she'd had in the past that were apparently smash hits.
They are sitting in the library, on a couch by the window. Julian is sitting in a corner chair, reading from a Chemistry book, his brow wrinkled.
"I thought Julian was your boyfriend," Jim says loudly, so the other boy looks up. Laura elbows him in the ribs; he grimaces. The flesh is still tender from the metal implants.
"He's not," Laura says angrily. "I won't do it so you can lay her. Fuck off." She gets up and storms out, seething at Jim's nerve.
"Hey!" From behind her; Julian, at the door.
She doesn't answer, keeps walking. Julian doesn't accept this; he runs to catch up, and claps a hand down on her shoulder. She whirls around, popping the claws on one hand.
"Don't touch me," she warns.
"Alright. I just wanted to ask you what that was all about. In there."
"Jim's just being an asshole. Nothing new." Laura withdraws her claws, kicks the ground as she turns.
"I thought you guys have a good relationship," Julian says, not leaving.
"We do. He just…crosses some boundaries, sometimes." She looks at the floor as she walks down the hall, and he follows, eager to hear whatever he can about her life. "You know how siblings can be."
"I was an only child," Julian says.
"Oh," Laura says. "That must be nice. I wonder what it's like to be alone."
"Not all that fun," Julian says. "So, what was he bothering you about?"
"Nothing," Laura says firmly.
"Alright. You know where I am if you want to talk," he says.
Laura hesitates, then nods. They part ways.
…
"Good!" Jean calls, from where she's floating, supervising Julian as he zips around, supported by only his mind. After actually listening to Jean's instructions, he'd found the undertaking much more manageable, the frightening pull of before becoming a gentle tug behind his navel that kind of felt good, like massaging an aching muscle. The more force exerted, the better it feels—and the faster he flies.
He's up to a hundred miles per hour now, when he feels like it. After this kind of speed, though, when he lets himself stop, he's starving. And mildly sleepy—and slightly aroused. Maybe it's the thing with his navel. Or maybe it's just because he's a guy, and he hasn't seen any action for a while.
Either way, he's thrilled by his new found ability, and spends as much time in the air as possible. In the air, it seems like all his problems drop away and are left behind on the ground. He's almost loathe to land, at times. Some of the other students can fly too. Out of the other borders, Jean, Warren and Ro are also able to fly; the latter two are just learning. Warren learns fastest and often tries racing Julian.
His telekinesis continues to improve, in general. He learns to form 'shields'—bubbles of green energy that encase whatever he wants it to. His shielding works differently than Jean's; instead of stopping objects in the air space that his shield occupies, his shield is impenetrable, and objects bounce off of it. This is somewhat interesting, as it could be a weapon in itself; he recalls the machine gun fire at the facility, and notes that the bullets would bounce off his shield, potentially into his opponents.
The Professor and Jean suspect he has latent telepathy too, based on the fact that both of them have telekinesis—to some degree—and telepathy as well. The abilities seem to balance; the Professor is an extremely strong telepath, but has only entry-level telekinesis with basic object moving abilities; Jean has a half-and-half balance that seems to waver between what she is focusing on most; and Julian seems to possess powerful telekinesis; therefore he is suspected to be a weak telepath, if he is at all.
They encourage him as much as they can to try accessing this ability, cooing to him about the benefits. Julian thinks he might be holding back on trying this talent because he is afraid of what he'll find in other people's minds. Having seen—in the facility—what they are capable of, he knows there are deep, dark corners; and right now, he's letting himself bask in the illusion that everything's peachy keen.
…
"Alright, children, I'm ready," Professor Xavier says, stretching his arms and rolling up his sleeves. "Let's see what you've got for me this time, eh?"
His boarding students are gathered around him, in the study. They are clad in their uniforms, holding bristol board pieces with newspaper articles taped to the surfaces; articles that feature themdoing humanitarian deeds.
Julian grimaces at his previous partner, Warren, who grins. They'd had a thin week for disasters and suicides; a good thing on the whole, but bad for their grades. On Friday, desperate for something to present for Monday's weekly hand-in, Julian had suggested they spend time in a soup kitchen.
It had been an interesting weekend. Warren made just about anything fun, but there had been several bums there that Julian hopes he'll never have the misfortune of meeting again. He's done his best (with club soda and a dishrag) to scrub the bloody vomit from one old loony out of his top.
He steels a glance across the room, even though for the last ten minutes he's made himself look away, like she's the sun, and will hurt his eyes if he stares at her directly. Actually, he's making this effort not to watch her because it makes her uncomfortable. He inhales a bit deeper. She does look amazing in the piece of latex that she's been given. It highlights every curve and sticks to her like a second skin; the top looks like the slightest movement will make it burst. He always starts wondering how it's staying together.
"Beast and Storm," Professor Xavier says, holding out his hands for their presentation. "Ah, what have we here? 'Xavier teens facilitate drug bust'," he reads aloud, and proceeds to do so for the entire article.
"Good work, Team Alpha," he concludes. "Very solid, and a fine contender for the bonus mark. Now, Team Beta…Pscion and Rogue?"
Rogue hands the Professor their board, and he sets to reading it out loud. 'Suicide rate drops dramatically in New York, reports of teen 'angels'." He smiles. "Oh, Jean, this is splendid," he says, and continues reading. Julian feels annoyed and cheated; how can he help the fact that his power is to move things and not sense suicides before they happen?
"Team Charlie…Verve and Angel?"
Julian moves forwards, and hands his board to the Professor, who studies it intently. Silence. For a few moments, Julian has the wild assumption that he is going to be flunked out of the school; then the Professor smiles. "Very good. Nice to see you and Warren trying traditional methods of helping, for a change. Everyone…here's an example you can learn from. This is a Helping Hands pamphlet. Underneath it is a letter stating that these boys donated ten hours of time working in their soup kitchen, serving the homeless."
Standing behind the Professor, Warren flashes Julian a thumbs-up.
"Team Delta...Y-21 and X-23," the Professor says. "You two really should choose different names. I don't feel at ease continuing the lab's tradition."
"We'll get right on that," Jim says. "Can I be God-Jesus?"
The Professor sighs, as a few other students snicker. He doesn't answer, only holds out his hand for the board. Jim rummages around in his pocket, pulls out a rumpled newspaper clipping, and passes it to the Professor; Julian suddenly feels stupid for spending an hour preparing his board.
"Two teens single handedly apprehend gangs the Warriors and the Bloodhounds last Thursday." Xavier pauses; obviously impressed. Julian sneaks another glance at the girl, and realizes, despite her more-than-attractive body, he's been looking mostly at her face. It's very expressive, like a living artist's canvas, and he loves watching her emotions flit across it. Right now, her head is bowed, her thick eyelashes are lowered; her eyes are hidden in a half-closed state. Her hair is piled up on her head in some sort of messy bun that emphasizes that there is a lot of it; if not for the uniform, she'd be just another college girl, going out in her sweats, too cool to care.
"Excellent, children. I do ask, however, that you keep your abilities as low-key as possible. Mutants are still a hidden phenomenon…and I would prefer it stay that way as long as possible." He straightens in his chair. "Alright. The groups for next week's assignment, due Monday. Let's see…" he drums his fingers on the arm rests of his wheelchair, thinking. The idea is that they rotate partners so that everyone works with each other once, then it starts over.
"Team Alpha: Pscion…and Angel." Jean smiles at Warren, and heads over. They've probably going to start planning right away; Jean is all about grades. They receive marks on Tuesdays, after Xavier has considered their hand-ins overnight.
"Team Beta: Beast…and Y-21." Jim casts a glance at Hank, his expression full of bitter disappointment. His eyes slide past Hank to Jean, who pretends not to notice the attention—but Julian has no doubt that she knows. She knows everything.
"Team Charlie: Storm…and Rogue." Julian wonders if this is a good idea. The women are collectively so sour and depressing that they will probably increase the suicide rate. He is distracted with this thought, and doesn't notice he hasn't been picked until his name is called.
"Team Delta: Verve…and X-23." Laura's eyes are already fixed on him, startled, open wide, and filled with a kind of desperation. She doesn't want him as a partner for anything.Something inside him feels raw—maybe his throat—but he heads towards the Professor, his eyebrows drawn together.
"Uh, sir, can I have a word?" he asks.
Professor Xavier smiles. "What would it be, Julian?"
"Can I be partnered with someone else?" he asks, then adds: "Laura and I don't get along well."
"I'm sorry, son, but this is precisely what this exercise is for," the Professor replies gravely. "Mutants are far and few in between, as of yet. We need to bond with our brothers and sisters, work together as teams, and as comrades. One day—soon—our lives will depend upon our ability to tolerate one another."
Julian shrugs. He's tried. He turns to Laura; she's looking at the floor again.
"Sorry."
"It's fine," she murmurs, in a tone that tells him it is definitely not fine. "We'll just take care of the project ASAP, okay?"
"Yeah," Julian says. He can't help the little thrill he feels at having an excuse to talk to her, if just for a little while. He wishes, in the back of his mind, he had an excuse to touch her too.
But it's fine.
…
Lunch, the next day: He's eating at his usual table, with a textbook propped up in front of him: Chemistry, his tray holding a plate of carefully measured nutritional foods, calculated to counter the calories he burns up with his powers in front of him.
CLANG!His tray rattles, but his book remains upright, because he's holding it with his mind. He looks over the edge and sees Laura, looking frazzled, her eyes puffy with what is probably exhaustion; it's her tray that was flung down with force, causing the noise.
"Projects!" she barks.
"Hi," Julian says calmly, flicking the page of his textbook mentally. "Come here often?"
"Did you think of anything yet?" Laura demands.
"I'm studying for a midterm. So no, I did not."
"Well…" Laura stabs something viciously on her plate. A vegetable. She almost inhales it as she eats it, her eyes flicking nervously about the cafeteria. Chew,chew,chew,gulp!"I want to make it very clear—"
"Let me guess, you want nothing to do with me. You just want to do the assignment, then forget I exist. And that's why you want to do it quickly.Well, I'll look at it after tomorrow."
"No, now!" Laura snaps, her eyes full of rage. They are also slightly bloodshot. He raises his eyebrows; he's never seen the girl this agitated, even considering their history.
"What's up?" he asks, tilting the book down so he can look at her better. A sudden idea strikes. "Are you on the rag, or something?"
Laura leans back. "None of your goddamn business, kid."
"You are, aren't you?"
She wrinkles her nose. "For your information, that was last week. So it's not 'the rag'. PMS comes before. What it is, kid…is having to work with you. I'd skip the assignment if it weren't mandatory to my staying here."
Julian pauses a second, pushing down the raw feeling again. She can rip him up inside, with a few sharp words. "Well, fine. Do you have any ideas?"
"Xavier likes humanitarian things, like your soup kitchen stint," she says. "Or Jean's working with the depressed. Not action hero stuff…as much. Probably because he figures we have enough of that coming, not far off." She pauses. "Can you think of other kinds of community service?"
"Volunteering at a hospital," Julian suggests.
"I don't like hospitals." Laura says this through her teeth, and he can think of a few reasons why. How stupid of him to bring it up.
"Um…volunteer at an old folk's home? Or an asylum?"
"Same thing," Laura says. "I don't do clinics. Next idea."
Julian leans back in his chair, and he realizes, if he moves his foot a few inches, to the right, he could rub it along the line of her calf. He debates the idea; but he knows she wouldn't like it. He crosses his leg instead, jiggling the foot.
"Highway clean-up patrol?" he suggests, almost half-jokingly, but Laura nods. "Okay. Awesome. Where do we go for that? And do we get to work separately?"
"Probably," Julian says. He's suddenly not hungry anymore; he sends the tray over to the dishes rack, then gets up. "I have to go now. Have to ask my chem teacher something. I'll look up the info for the patrol thing tonight, and let you know tomorrow.
"Okay," Laura says.
He leaves.