I do not own the X-Men franchise.

Learning Curve

As a new school term rolled around, so did parent-teacher conferences. They took place about a month into term, during the week the student progress reports went out. Over the course of the evening Charles would consult with the teachers of his elementary-aged students, ensuring that their grades were up to par and that they were behaving appropriately.

The last interview of the night was with Jamie's teacher Mrs. Jackson. She greeted him with a warm smile and extended her hand for a firm shake. "Hello Professor. Making your rounds, I see."

Charles laughed. "I suppose that's one way to put it. I hope you feel no offense for being my last stop, so to speak."

With a light chuckle, Mrs. Jackson settled down into the plastic chair and started rifling through a stack of papers resting next to her elbow. "Madrox…Madrox…ah, here he is." She removed a beige folder that stated James Madrox across the top. "For the most part, he's been doing very well. He completes his homework on time, he's very polite and respectful, he asks questions if he's not sure of something and he's always willing to help."

"How's the situation with his peers?" asked Charles in concern. "He hasn't spoken of any more incidents, but he tends to keep such problems to himself no matter how often we tell him otherwise."

"The principal made the consequences of bullying very clear, but we can't do much about the remarks. I try to reprimand those whenever I overhear negative comments, but we can't catch all of them. Jamie seems to be happy and Dennis is hardly away from his side during class and outside of it."

"I'm glad to hear Jamie has a loyal friend to stand by his side when we can't," said Charles in relief. "I only wish my senior students had such an open-minded principal at their school."

"Mr. Garrison is a wonderful person," agreed Mrs. Jackson. She reached into the folder and pulled out a progress report. "Here's what Jamie's grades are so far."

Charles took the piece of paper and perused. He paused at the bold black D that glared out amongst the neat line of As and Bs. "Oh dear," he murmured.

"That's what I said," admitted Mrs. Jackson. "He initially had a C, but his last test did not go very well and brought his mark down. I wasn't too concerned at first, because math is typically the subject where most kids run into trouble. But after marking his last test I started to worry that he wasn't asking for the amount of help he should be."

"He certainly isn't," agreed Charles, lips curled into a soft frown. "He normally asks for assistance at home when he needs it. He's always been good that way. I had no idea he was struggling so much."

"It's not your fault," assured Mrs. Jackson. "He's been asking questions in class, but I suppose I didn't clarify too much for him. Some kids reach a point in their school career where they try to work it out themselves, with varying results. It's something I've noticed time and time again."

Charles had a feeling that his charge's sudden aversion to asking for help was a little more complex, but he did not say so aloud. He instead nodded and said, "I'll be sure to have a talk with him and get this sorted. I can assure you that his grade will rise by the end of term."

Mrs. Jackson smiled. No matter what some of her fellow colleagues thought about mutants, none of them could deny that Professor Xavier took special care in the education of his students. "I've no doubt. That was the only concern I had to share. Other than that, Jamie is doing really well."

"I'm glad to hear that," said Charles sincerely. "I know the reports don't go out to the students until tomorrow, but do you mind if I take this with me?"

"Not at all," replied Mrs. Jackson with a wave. "Go ahead."

"Thank you." Tucking the paper into his jacket, he inclined his head. "Have a good evening, Mrs. Jackson."

When he got home, he and his young charge were going to have a long conversation.

…

Sitting in one of the cushioned armchairs of the drawing room, Jamie pulled anxiously on the cuff of his sweater as he waited for Charles to arrive. He received a mental message from his professor- short, strict instructions to wait in the drawing room for him. That meant that Charles was almost home and Jamie was most likely in trouble.

"So much for that C in math," he said miserably. He knew he had bombed that test, even after studying as hard as he did. But he still had had a shred of hope that maybe he had maintained his passable grade, for at least he would only get a brief lecture on getting it improved.

Right now, he was hoping he didn't get a complete fail.

He only waited a few more minutes before he heard the familiar sound of Charles' wheelchair coming down the hallway. Jamie bit down on his bottom lip and nervously looked up as Charles entered the room. When the man shut the door firmly behind him, he knew he was in for a serious talking-to.

"So how badly did it go?" asked Jamie weakly.

Charles positioned himself so that he was across from the child. Arching an eyebrow, he returned, "If you expected my conversation with Mrs. Jackson to go badly, then it means you've been anticipating your math grade."

Dang. Knew it.

"What is it?" he asked softly.

Charles removed the progress report and held it out silently. Taking it, Jamie glanced at the list of grades and his momentary happiness at the decent marks was dashed at the sight of his math grade. "Oh."

"I do hope you have more to say than 'oh'."

"I had a C before," defended Jamie, though he knew it was a futile effort. "My last test just didn't go so well."

"One that you informed none of us about when we asked if you had any upcoming tests," pointed out Charles. "A test that, when you got it back, failed to show us. A test that I believe I asked you to retrieve."

Shoulders slumping, Jamie reached behind him and removed the crumpled, stapled sheaf of papers which were littered with ugly red marks. Charles looked it over thoroughly, not saying a word, leaving Jamie to fidget awkwardly.

"Mrs. Jackson says you've been having trouble with your math work and it shows," said Charles at last. "Did you ask any of us for help?"

"No," whispered Jamie.

"Why not? You know Hank, Logan, Ororo and myself are always available to help you with your schoolwork. All you needed to do was ask. You've done so before. Why struggle in silence now?"

Jamie stared at the floor. "I don't know."

"I'm afraid that's not an answer. Try again, and please look me in the eyes this time."

Swallowing thickly, Jamie slowly raised his eyes and stared into the concerned and attentive gaze of his professor. In a tiny voice he said, "I'm not really sure what you guys have been investigating, but I know it has something to do with Mesmero and the rings. It sounds like something huge and I didn't want to bother you from something important. It's just math. I thought I could handle it."

Understanding washed over Charles and he felt foolish for not picking up on Jamie's silent struggle sooner. He reached out and gently cupped the boy's chin so that he would not look away again. "I admire your determination to try and handle problems by yourself. But sometimes you find yourself facing a problem that you are unable to tackle alone."

"Like math," muttered Jamie.

Charles smiled slightly. "Like math. Yes, we're currently investigating some suspicious activity, but you don't have to concern yourself with that. No matter what we're doing, whenever you need our help, you come to us. Nothing is more important than you or the others."

"Not even the possible end of the world?" asked Jamie dubiously.

Eyes sparking with amusement, Charles said, "Well, perhaps there is one exception. But unless said possible end of the world is obvious, you all still come first. Always. You're not a bother, Jamie, and you shouldn't ever feel that way."

Warmth spreading through him, the boy leaned forwards and embraced the professor. "I know that," he mumbled. "Sorry for not telling you about my test."

"You're not the first to try and smuggle a bad mark past me," said Charles with a chuckle, patting Jamie's back fondly. "I think we'll avoid videogames and television until we see an improvement in your math grade."

Jamie pulled back and made a face. "I guess. I have a retest next week, and then another test two weeks after that."

"Then you and I will work together until you're comfortable with the material. I'm sure Hank will be more than happy to provide his assistance as well. We'll have that grade rise to a B before you know it."

Jamie's eyes widened. "A B? How about a C? I can definitely improve to a C."

"You've proven you are more than capable of getting good grades in math. A C is not bad, but you can do better."

"Yes, Professor."

There was a lack of confidence in his tone and Charles decided he would have to fix that. "Do you have math homework tonight?"

"Yeah….I could use some help," said Jamie sheepishly. "I'm not really getting it."

"Why don't you go get it and bring it down here? There's still a few hours before your curfew. Let's see what we can accomplish together."

Nodding hard, Jamie hurried off to retrieve his textbook and notebook. Charles watched him go with a tender expression, and allowed a frown to cross his face when he was certain the twelve-year-old was out of sight.

He would have to let the others know to be careful of when they discussed Mesmero and the rings. Jamie did not need to hear of such things. His childhood was already far from normal and Charles would not tarnish it further.

Whatever Mesmero had planned with those rings, Charles would ensure he got nowhere near his students.