Chapter 7: The Great Divide

"I have good news."

The voice from the doorway caused Henry to look up from his computer, Peter and Jean from their textbooks, and Ororo from her folded arms, which had been cradling her head a moment before. A longer-than-necessary Danger Room session had left her seriously bushed. Scott, who had been lying on the couch and using Jean's knee as a pillow, turned his head in Xavier's general direction to signify his attentiveness. The general, unspoken response was, Say more things like that.

Xavier didn't wait for any of them to ask; he simply said, "Iceman is conscious."

Ororo's eyes opened all the way and she gave a low whistle of victory. Jean's face broke into a wide grin, and even Scott gave a rare smile. Henry shut his laptop with a snap. "Are you sure?"

"I used Cerebro to pinpoint his thought-patterns. He's recovering comfortably in his hometown hospital on Long Island… still dazed, still coming to terms with the incident that laid him low in the first place, but, yes, very much awake."

"That's good news, all right," Ororo acknowledged. "So, when do we get to see him?"

"'Ro, I had to cloud the policemen's minds just to sneak Scott and me in," Jean said softly. "I don't think they're going to let all of us come parading in to see him at once."

"Okay, so, we can take down Magneto, and we can convince Quicksilver that he's hallucinating his dad's miraculous resurrection" — here the white-haired weather witch twirled her hands up around her head — "but we're going to let a few cops stop us? Puh-lease. I thought we were the X-Men."

"We're also, unfortunately, on the receiving end of a fifty-million-dollar lawsuit," Henry reminded her. "As far as Mr. and Mrs. Drake are concerned, the police and Senator Turk are the Ghostbusters who are going to make the bogeymen go away." He opened his computer again. "Booga-booga," he added glumly.

"Who's Senator Turk?" Peter asked, frowning.

"He's assisting and counseling the Drakes in their case against us," said Xavier. "Apparently, he's decided that helping to launch a crusade against mutants will boost his image in the eyes of his supporters, many of whom believe we're the spawn of Satan. Literally."

"Bobby hasn't agreed to this, has he?" Scott asked incredulously.

"As far as I can tell, he has no idea it's even happening. His parents are waiting until the time is right to tell him."

"So Turk is filling the Drakes' pockets in the lawsuit," Jean surmised. "Can I ask you a question, Professor?"

"If you want to know who's filling mine, I've recently made contact with our benefactors in the city."

"Now that they're helping us get Iceman back, are you finally going to tell us who they are?"

"Their discretion was their part of the deal, not mine, Jean. We've been the target of so much media attention lately that the fewer of us know where all of this comes from, the less chance it has of leaking out."

"Come on, you don't trust us to keep a secret?"

"I trust most of you to keep secrets," Xavier said firmly. "If ever you have need to know where our money is coming from, rest assured, I won't hesitate to tell you. For now, however, the subject is closed."

"Okay." Jean suddenly became very interested in combing Scott's hair through her fingers.

**

"You must be so happy that Bobby's finally awake," Ororo said later. She was sitting on the bed in her nightgown, the blanket wrapped around her shoulders.

Henry, still fully dressed, continued to stare out the window. "Very," he agreed.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes."

"Henry, for God's sakes. Is it something I said? Something I did? 'Cause if it is, you'd better tell me. I'm not —"

He held up his hand. "Please don't."

Her face softened. "Are you still worried about Bobby?"

"No. Yes. I mean, I am, but it's not just that." He didn't turn to look at her. "Whether they manage to close down the school or not, I doubt any of us are ever going to see him again."

"Of course we are," she said.

"His parents are the ones who started this. You heard the professor. They want to keep him safe from us. We want him back here."

"I know."

"Nobody is giving too much thought to what he wants. I guess that's what's bothering me. If I had as much time as he's going to have to think this whole thing over, I would certainly wonder if the superhero life was really the one for me, too."

Ororo frowned. "Don't you want him to come back?"

"Of course."

"Then cheer up," she suggested. "The professor thinks that there's a very good chance he'll take our side in this fight."

Henry turned around to stare at her straight on. "Why is he so sure?"

"Henry, don't."

"Don't what? Don't tell you how I feel, what I'm afraid of? I assumed we were always going to be honest with each other."

"I know. I want that, too."

"But you still think I'm crazy."

"No, not crazy. Just —"

"Paranoid," he finished for her. Bitterly. "You said that."

"It's not true, Hank."

She was the only person in the known universe allowed to call him that. "How do you know?"

"Because he took us all in. He's taken care of us. We're supposed to trust him."

"Which would be a good opportunity to make sure we just keep on trusting him."

"Henry, what is wrong with you?"

"I can't even imagine myself being sad if Bobby has to leave," he went on. "All I can picture is the team without Iceman. If you left, if you decided to go back to jacking cars… all right, I feel something there, but I'd be sorry, that's it. And then I'd go back to my life, because the professor always said that tragedies are what make us stronger."

"You're still feeling sorry for yourself," she said decisively. "Don't. Please. It's not your fault you look like this, and it's not your fault he got hurt, and it's…"

"Listen to yourself!" he practically shouted. She shrank back, and immediately hated herself for it. "Look at what you just did. Look. You're talking about something that didn't have anything to do what I was saying, just like you were reading off of cue cards. Like someone was telling you to sound emotional, and sympathetic, and loving. And then you cringed. Instinctively. Because… I'm not going to try to argue with you anymore."

"Good," she said.

"You've been all 'you're just feeling a lot of self-doubt, Hank' and 'you're just blaming yourself, Hank' and 'your inferiority complex is stemming paranoia, Hank.' And I'm sick of it. I don't want to be psychoanalyzed by Storm. I want to know how you, Ororo Munroe, feel about me."

"How do I feel?" she repeated. "I love you. How many times do I have to say it?"

He sighed and stretched out on the bed next to her, but he still didn't look her way. "One more ought to suffice." He didn't add, for now.

She placed her palms on either side of his furry face. "I love you," she said softly. "I don't want us to fight."

"Neither do I."

"And I want you to trust me."

"I do trust you."

"And I want you to trust the professor. Can you do that?"

Henry took off his glasses, polished them, and set them on the nightstand. "I can," he said, looking up at the ceiling as if he could see the truths of the universe inscribed on its surface.