"Discomfort"
A state of unease, worry, or embarrassment; something that makes a person feel physically uncomfortable.
French Translations
Très impressionnant - Very Impressive
Anything in italics and underlined is in French.
Marianne had never been on a plane before. Travelling by air had not been common when she was younger and would have needed it, and ever since she and Lawrence had made their home together, she had never had any need for it.
She found she did not like the experience very much. It was far too different from what she was used to. Her stomach lurched with each slight turn and every time it seemed to her that the plane dropped, her stomach dropped as well. She couldn't sleep because of the constant shifting of her stomach, and she kept the window shut for fear of looking down and panicking. She couldn't focus on her book, or even on continuing her conversation with Sean.
She would continue it later, she promised herself. Sean needed to be told exactly why his parents should know when he was putting his life in danger.
If Henry was the one- she cut off that train of thought immediately, her heart clenching.
Sean was much more excited. He lounged back in his chair, looking out the window in amazement and chatting eagerly with Charles, who seemed just as happy to talk as Sean was, although he seemed more relaxed than either Sean or Marianne. Naturally, she thought, considering it is his plane.
If Erik was either excited or nervous (neither were feelings Marianne could imagine him expressing openly), he kept quiet about it. He remained quiet except for an occasional comment on something Charles had said, reading a newspaper in one hand and rotating a pair of small metal balls around his fingers with the other. Marianne thought he looked like someone who travelled frequently, so she supposed he would look at ease.
Luckily, though, the flight was short and they landed in Richmond only about two hours after their departure (although that was still too long for her tastes). As they descended, Marianne gripped her armrests so tightly she was sure her nails had left rips in the fabrics.
"You okay, Mrs. O?" Sean asked as they got off the plane.
"I'm fine." Her legs were shaking and she gripped her suitcase so tightly her knuckles were white.
"First flight?" Charles asked her. He was ahead of them and looking back at her with a sympathetic smile.
Marianne tucked a lock of wavy hair behind her ear, exhaling deeply. "First flight in a plane, yes."
Charles nodded and faced forward. Then he swivelled around and stared at her again. "Can you... fly?"
"I do believe that's the face of pure joy, Marianne," Erik remarked dryly.
"I think you're right, Erik."
"Mrs. O, you can fly?!"
Marianne smiled at Sean's amazed expression. "I have always thought it was just an extension of my powers." She had shown Sean her abilities on the plane when he had requested it. When she had asked him to show his powers, he had winced and said he couldn't do it on the plane. "Perhaps it isn't flying so much as... levitating."
"How high?"
"Oh, I don't know, I've never bothered to see how high I can go. I've always been too worried about being seen."
"Well," Charles said, still grinning as though Christmas had come early, "you won't have to worry about that here. Everyone already knows about you, you won't have to hide a thing."
Marianne could not help but smile at the thought.
It was an hour and a half drive to the CIA base, and it was a quiet one. Sean fell asleep for the first forty minutes, and Marianne, in an effort to recover from the trauma of the airplane, dozed off for the first half-hour. She was aware of Sean's head on her shoulder (she had chosen to get into the backseat for the drive to the base), distantly heard Charles and Erik having a quiet conversation, but she heard nothing they said. When she had rested long enough, she took part in some conversation with the two men. When Sean woke up he showed no embarrassment from his position and regained his excitement from earlier. Marianne found herself fiddling with her necklace, stroking the locket with increasing anxiety as they came closer and closer to the base.
The base was exactly what she expected from a government building, nothing more, nothing less. It was all straight lines and angles, brick, some windows. She noticed a strange-looking spherical building in the surrounding field but did not ask what it was for. When they pulled up in the driveway, there were two people waiting at the foot of the steps to the building.
One was a man. He looked shorter than Erik but taller than Charles, but what he lacked in height he made up for in girth, being a very round man. He wore a black suit and tie, dressed as a typical government agent, but it did nothing to distract from the kind expression he wore as they all got out of the car.
"These are the new recruits?" He asked, practically beaming with excitement as he approached them. He held out his hand to Marianne. "Agent Platt, so nice to meet you."
"Marianne Ouellet," she replied, taking his hand and giving it a firm shake. "Wonderful to meet you as well," she said with a smile. When he did not take this as a gesture to wink or attempt to flirt and instead only smiled earnestly back at her, Marianne decided she liked him.
"Hey, I'm Sean," Sean introduced himself as the agent turned to him. "Sean Cassidy."
As they shook hands, Marianne's attention was drawn to the woman who had been waiting with Agent Platt. She had stepped forward once Plath had gone to Sean and now held her hand out as well. "Agent Moira MacTaggert, pleased to meet you, Ms. Ouellet. Thank you for joining us."
Moira MacTaggert stood straight and with both feet firmly planted on the ground. Her brown hair was cut straight across at her shoulders; long enough to tie back but not long enough to get in the way if she couldn't. She did not wear a suit and tie like Agent Plath, and instead was dressed in a nice blouse and a matching dark navy blue jacket and skirt. She was the same height as Marianne, and a glance down let her know that Agent MacTaggert would be about two inches shorter than Marianne without heels. Everything about the woman told Marianne that she was not to be ignored, and, considering she was a woman working for the government, presumably in a very important role given her current responsibilities, Marianne could not ignore her.
"It is no problem," Marianne said, smiling as she shook Agent MacTaggert's hand. "Charles did tell you about my request, yes?"
Agent MacTaggert nodded. "It's not a problem."
"It's the least we could do," Platt interjected. As Sean shook hands with Platt, MacTaggert put her hands on her hips and turned to Erik and Charles.
"Platt and I have a meeting with the board in half an hour," she said. It didn't mean anything to Marianne. It did to Charles and Erik, who each had their separate reaction; Charles responded by straightening up and looking serious, while Erik's eyes seemed to darken.
"What about?" Charles asked. Marianne exchanged a look with Sean.
"Shaw?" Erik demanded, his voice sharp.
There it is again, Marianne thought. His fists had clenched and his body had gone rigid. She would ask him about it later, she decided.
MacTaggert nodded. "We think we have his location."
"We'll see if we can get the board to approve of this project," Platt said with a broad grin.
"It's still up in the air right now," MacTaggert explained to Marianne and Sean. "The board isn't quite comfortable with letting, in their words, 'a bunch of untrained freaks' into a precarious situation such as this." She sighed. "We're going into this meeting to see if they've changed their minds, now that we know where Shaw is."
Marianne thought about glaring at the two men who had acted like the whole situation was settled and had led her to believe it was certain she would be fighting. She decided against it, choosing instead to shoot an incredulous look at the two of them. Charles had the decency to look apologetically at her. Erik merely shrugged, as though to say, well, what can we do?
"But that's our problem," Platt assured them, patting Sean on the shoulder. "I'm sure you two are eager to see your rooms and get comfortable. And of course, meet the rest of the mutants."
"Do you plan to collect more?" Marianne asked as Moira led them up the stairs. "More mutants, I mean."
"Don't get him started," Erik said with a sigh. Marianne understood a moment later when Charles began to passionately explain how many mutants he had found (using Cerebro, he explained, pointing at the spherical building Marianne had noticed, which he then explained was a sort of machine that expanded his powers across the world, and it had been made by Hank McCoy, she'd meet him later) and how they planned to go to as many of them as they could and recruit them - not just to fight Shaw, but to help them all.
"That's how we found you, you know," Charles added. "But there were so many of us, so many minds, all of them filled with so many possibilities. We just need to help them, with their powers and their ambitions and everything, and we can change the world. It will be far bigger than just this, just you wait and see, Marianne, Sean, it will be amazing."
"I can't wait," Sean exclaimed, his young face beaming. "And we're apart of this. We're the very beginning. Mrs. O, isn't it awesome?"
Marianne found herself nodding, a smile growing. Finding those who needed help and helping them, helping them in ways most others could not - it was a wonderful thought. It was not one she had thought Charles would follow. She wondered if Erik had the same belief.
She glanced over at Erik. He wore a sour look on his face. It appears not.
"It is very awesome," Charles agreed eagerly.
"I hope it will all go well," Marianne said quietly, her eyes drawn back to the spherical building. It bothered her a bit to know that she had been tracked and found so easily, through her mind no less. But if the machine could help find people who needed help, she could handle her own discomfort. She wondered if the machine worked both ways - if she could ask Charles to use it so she could communicate with Henry.
Marianne shook that thought away. That would be too strange. A phone call would be enough.
"Ms. Ouellet," MacTaggert said.
"Yes?"
"Your accent is French, isn't it?"
"French-Canadian, actually," Marianne corrected. "I am from Montreal."
"Are you? I spent some time there a few years ago, it's a wonderful city."
"Yes, it is."
MacTaggert looked back at her over her shoulder and said in perfect French, "Did the boys catch you on a trip to the States?"
Marianne inhaled sharply, a beautiful smile spreading across her face. "No, I have lived here for just over a decade,"she replied. "You sound like you've spent time in a French country. You speak without flaw."
Agent MacTaggert gave a small hint of a smile. "When you're on a mission in a foreign country, you have to sound like a native."
Marianne laughed. That was certainly true. God above, she had missed having someone who knew French as well as she did. Henry knew his mother's language very well, having spoken it since birth, but growing up in a country where English had to be his primary language made it slightly harder for him to speak French as well as she did. Sean spoke French as well as someone could when they had only learned it as an elective in school.
"But if you don't mind me asking,"Agent MacTaggert continued, "I'm curious as to how a French-Canadian mutant woman ended up living in the States for twelve years." Agent MacTaggert glanced over at her. As they had been walking, Marianne had picked up her pace until she fell in step with the agent. Now they walked side-by-side.
Marianne caught the slight emphasis placed on 'mutant'. "That is a long story, and one that will have to wait for another time," she said.
Agent MacTaggert nodded, a hint of curiosity in her eyes, before stopping in the middle of a long hallway that did not look any different from the other hallways. "These are the rooms," she said. "Some will have to share, as there are limited spaces for everyone and we're expecting more mutants, sooner or later."
"I'm afraid we weren't able to make them more comfortable," Agent Platt said apologetically, stepping around Marianne and joining Agent MacTaggert at her side. "I wish we could have customized them a bit more, made them more... well, homey."
"This is a government building, you see," said Agent MacTaggert, not as apologetic as Agent Platt. "We were a bit limited in what we could provide while still keeping things professional."
Charles interrupted at this point, following Platt in stepping around Marianne. "Hopefully," he said with a slight laugh, "depending on the time spent here, you'll be able to customize your rooms as you like."
"Ms. Ouellet," began Agent MacTaggert.
"Marianne, please," Marianne said quickly. Agent MacTaggert nodded.
"Marianne," she continued as though she hadn't been interrupted, "this is your room. You don't have anyone to share your space with, just yet. Mr. Cassidy-"
"Sean."
"Sean, your room is next door. You're sharing with one of the other recruits, Hank McCoy. You'll meet him soon."
"All of the recruits are in one of the break rooms," Agent Platt explained. "You can go meet them once you've settled in."
Agent MacTaggert looked down at her watch. "So sorry to leave you now, but our meeting is in fifteen minutes, and we're going to either have a lot of convincing to do or a lot of information to receive, so Agent Platt and I both need to be ready." After another handshake with both Agent Platt and Agent MacTaggert, both agents disappeared around a corner, leaving Marianne and Sean with Charles and Erik.
"Erik and I will leave you to get comfortable," Charles said with a pat on Sean's back. "Whenever you're ready, the break rooms are just back down this hallway and all the way down the first hall on the left. You won't be able to miss them. They're a distinct group." With another smile, he and Erik walked away.
Marianne watched them go and then turned to stare at Sean. He winced.
"Can we talk about it later? Like... not now?"
Marianne quirked an eyebrow and stared at him for a few seconds longer with an unimpressed look, letting him squirm. Then she sighed and smiled. "Later," she promised. "Not tonight. But soon," she added firmly, pointing a finger at him, but the smile on her face made her seem less than stern.
Sean grinned. "You're awesome, Mrs. O." He opened the door to his room and stepped inside, shutting it behind him. A second later he emerged. "Done settling in."
Marianne rolled her eyes. Men.
"I'm gonna go meet the other mutants. You coming?" Sean continued, pointing a thumb over his shoulder and down the hallway where they had come from, already beginning to take steps backward.
Marianne nodded. "Go without me, I'll be in a moment." Sean gave her two thumbs up before turning around and jogging down the hall, disappearing as he turned the corner. Marianne opened her door and stepped in.
The size was the first thing she noticed. The room was larger than her bedroom at home, being fifteen feet long and ten feet wide, but rather than seeming more comfortable because of the larger size, it was exactly as the agents had described it. A single bed was shoved into the corner, covered in stiff-looking white sheets and a navy-blue comforter, as well as a lighter blue blanket with silk edges that she knew, from experience, was not as soft as it looked. There was a small wooden table next to the bed with a lamp and a digital clock, both unplugged. There wasn't any place to put clothes or other belongings except on the table, under the bed, or on the floor. The walls were the same grey concrete the building was and had the same lighting as the hallways – rectangular panels in a single line – with only a single square window that was maybe two feet long in length and width.
Marianne approached the window and looked out. She had a view of the Cerebro building and the road. Wonderful.
You're not on a vacation, she reminded herself. You're here for Henry.
Marianne set her suitcase on the bed and opened it up. She took out her book and set it on the table. She took out her framed photo of Lawrence and Henry (then only three years old) and placed it next to the book. There were other items in her suitcase that could be organized later. Her clothes could not be put anywhere, so she figured she would leave them in the suitcase.
She sat on the bed, grimacing at the feel of the scratchy blanket underneath her legs, and looked around. She sighed as she looked at the photograph. It was one of the few photos she had taken of her family; Lawrence was always the one to insist on documenting their family's life, and the one with the skill to take good photos. True to form, the photo she had taken was crooked and somewhat blurry, but she could still make out the joy in her husband and son's faces. She smiled, wondering what Lawrence would have said about her actions. He probably would have worried, would have made plans for any possible disaster they could encounter, but never would have tried to stop her once she had made a firm decision.
Marianne flicked her wrist and her suitcase closed and zipped itself up before floating underneath the bed. There was no reason to put off meeting her teammates for any longer.
The hallways were completely empty, which was unsettling. She found herself fiddling more with her locket and held kept slipping her hands into her pockets to make sure her knife and book were still there. (Her knife always came with her, and her book was just in case nothing interesting happened.)
She turned a corner and found a large door with loud music playing on the other side. As Charles had said, it had not taken her long to find the other mutants. Marianne grabbed the handle of the door and pulled it open. The laughter and chatter in the room slowed down as she stepped through the doorway and shut the door behind her. She brushed a curl of hair out of her eyes as she turned around and asked, "Is this where the other mutants are?"
Sean, who was lounging in a small armchair, raised a glass of what was probably soda in greeting. "Hey, welcome to the party!" he cheered, grinning at her. He turned to the other people in the room, all of whom were sitting on the assortment of sleek black leather couches and armchairs in a circle in the center of the room. "That's Mrs. O."
One of the people stood up to greet her. It was a young, blonde girl, dressed in a sleeveless black turtleneck and a short skirt. She was only a few inches shorter than Marianne and was slender and small, but the energy she gave off made up for the lack of space she took up. She had a slight bounce in her step as she approached Marianne, sticking her hand out in greeting before she even got close to her.
"Hi!" she said eagerly. "I'm Raven. Sean was just telling us about you, and Charles said we had two new mutants, so we were wondering when you'd show up."
Marianne stared at her, examining the girl's face – she was a girl, a young woman. She couldn't have been much older than twenty.
Realizing she had been staring in silence for a second too long, Marianne broke out of her trance and smiled back, taking Raven's hand and shaking it. "Hello, Raven. I'm Marianne. It's wonderful to meet you, and the rest of you, as well..." she trailed off as she looked at the group of people in the room.
They were all so young. Sean was easily the youngest, but the others did not seem much older than him. The blond boy sitting slouched on the couch, filled with tension and wariness but clearly trying to hide it, was maybe nineteen at the most. A pretty dark-haired girl sat across from him on another couch, sitting in a way that made her seem a little older (like she was intentionally trying to seem older), but she still looked only about twenty. There was a lanky brunet boy with glasses and a blazer and tie who was probably twenty. The eldest in the room, besides her, was the African American man, who sat looking relaxed and looked perhaps twenty-five. Besides him, everyone else in the room couldn't have been older than twenty-one, maybe twenty-two if she was generous.
An ill feeling settled in her stomach, but she forced a smile and looked back at Raven. "It's wonderful to be here. I never thought that I would ever get the chance to meet others like myself."
The black man chuckled. "Neither did any of us."
"But we're all here," Raven said, smiling brightly. "And it's amazing, isn't it?"
"You realize we're going into war, right?" the blond boy said. The ill feeling in Marianne's stomach lurched. "It's not like we're at summer camp or something."
Raven scoffed and rolled her eyes. "I know that, Alex. That doesn't mean we can't be excited about this whole thing." She rolled her eyes again and turned back to Marianne. "You hungry? Or thirsty? There's a mini-fridge in the corner, it's great."
Marianne nodded. "Yes, I am feeling very thirsty right now," she said, unable to hide the slight rasp in her voice. She cleared her throat and went to get a bottle of water. When she returned, she sat down on the only free chair left, a sleek black armchair on the other end of the table from Sean and the blond boy, and looked around the circle.
"So," she said, and all eyes turned onto her. "Who are all of you? I know Sean already." Sean raised his glass in salute to her again.
"Yeah, he's already told us," the blond boy said, rolling his eyes. Marianne stared at him with a raised eyebrow before she smiled.
"Oui," she said. "And you are?"
"Alex. Summers."
"Well, Alex, it's nice to meet you," she said with a kind smile. "Alex... that's a good name. I have heard it means 'defender of men.' It seems appropriate, considering our circumstances." She looked around the room, examining the table covered in half-eaten snacks, the pinball machine in the corner, the jukebox against the wall, the bar on the other side of the room - all of it, even the lights over their heads, were just distractions, trying to help them forget what they would be facing so very soon.
"You're very brave, to be doing this" she continued, looking back to Alex. He was staring at her, bewildered. "All of you are," she added earnestly, looking around the circle of young adults. They all seemed just as taken aback by her comment; some - the boy in glasses and the dark-haired girl - even seemed flustered or flattered by it.
A beat of silence.
Finally, Alex scoffed and muttered, "Whatever," running his hand over his hair as though trying to tidy it up.
"So, he's Alex," Marianne started over, looking back around the circle with a smile. "Who are the rest of you?"
The dark-haired girl casually raised her hand. "Angel Salvadore. Love your shoes." Marianne looked down at her shoes and smiled, thanked her, and said she loved her dress. Angel smiled.
"Most people just call me Darwin," the black man said, holding out his hand for Marianne to shake. She did so without hesitation. "Nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you, too, Darwin. Another fascinating name," she said. She looked at the two members sitting on the couch - Raven and the boy with glasses. "And you?"
The boy with glasses smiled in greeting. "I'm, uh, Hank, Hank McCoy."
Marianne's eyes lit up with recognition. "The Hank McCoy who built the machine out there?" She gestured to Cerebro, which they could see out the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the field beside the building. "Charles mentioned you earlier. That's quite an accomplishment! Très impressionnant."
Hank grinned but ducked his head almost bashfully. "Thanks."
Marianne smiled as she looked around the group. She took another sip of water before asking, "If you don't mind, how old are all of you?"
Raven spoke up. "I don't mind answering - I'm twenty-eight."
Marianne promptly choked on her water. Apparently, no one else had known this either, because they all began staring at Raven.
"Twenty-eight?" Darwin asked with a raised eyebrow. "Really?"
Raven grinned, almost seeming proud. "Yup. Most people are surprised when I tell 'em. I think it's something to do with my mutation. Hank can back me up when he's studied my blood sample," she added, glancing at Hank, who looked flustered under Raven's attention, Marianne noticed.
Maybe all of them have mutations to make them look younger? Marianne wondered. If that was the case, it would put her at ease.
But alas, this was not the case; Hank was twenty (he would turn twenty-one in December), Alex had turned nineteen a couple of months ago, and Angel was nineteen as well. Darwin was twenty-five, as she had guessed. Darwin's age put her slightly at ease, but as for the rest of them, all she could feel was the ill feeling. They were so young, barely adults, and here they were about to go to war. Sean had told her that Charles and Erik had explained everything to him, and they had done so for her as well, so most likely they all knew what they were getting themselves into, but even so - how could the two men have gone after only young adults? Surely there had to be other fully grown adults, like her, like themselves - surely they could not have been that rare that none could be found.
And these young adults - children, they were children - joining a war - were they like Sean, joining for the excitement of meeting others like them? Or were they like her, joining to protect someone or something? Or - her stomach lurched at the thought - did they just have no reason to not fight? To not risk their lives?
She'd ask Charles. She'd ask Erik. She would demand to know how they could justify this, asking people so young to join their fight. Things could not have been so desperate and hopeless that they were looking to people not even old enough to vote to save the world.
And she would ask them - or the people themselves - why any of them would say yes to a thing like this. She had to know how they could risk throwing their lives away for this. It was a brave thing they were doing, like she had told them, but it wasn't something that should have been put on their shoulders.
She thought of Henry and had to repress a shudder at the thought of him being put in such a position. Hopefully, he never would be.
"I am thirty-one," she said, just because it was only fair. "And I'm glad to meet all of you. Cheers." She raised her drink in the air with a smile. They all smiled back - with the exception of Alex, who rolled his eyes - and copied her gesture.
Marianne watched them take a drink. She studied their faces. They were young. They were so young.
She looked down at her water before taking a long sip, almost wishing for something stronger.
We've finally reached the actual plot!
Fun fact: the voting age in the USA was 21 until Nixon was in office in the 70s.
Now, according to the age the actors were when they played these characters in First Class, most of the team should be in their early to late twenties, with Darwin being the oldest at 32 (same age as Erik). However, the fact that Charles and Erik kept calling them 'kids' throws me off, since I feel like they wouldn't call them kids if they were older than say, 22. Charles might, but Erik definitely wouldn't. So I aged them down a bit, except for Raven, who I had to age up from Jennifer Lawrence's age at the time of filming. I assume that Charles and Erik wouldn't have gone after anyone younger than 18, but with the situation at hand, they wouldn't think much about getting people only a bit older than 18.
Hope you liked this chapter! Don't be shy, leave a comment, please. Let me know what you thought - if you liked it, why you liked it, whether or not you thought the characters were In Character (that's definitely important, so let me know your thoughts on that), your thoughts on what may come in the future? Anything. I appreciate all and any comments left on my stories.