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"Once the toothpaste is
out of the tube, it's hard to get it back in."
-H.R. Haldeman
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Chapter Thirteen: Toothpaste Afflictions
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The world had never looked so large, so vast and reeling and ready to open up to swallow her. Across the desk, the professor sat and listened, his face still. Nat could see the firm, determined set of his jaw, the crease in his lowered brow and the glint in his eye. His hands were folded neatly, unmoving, his elbows propped on the edge of the table.
Nat sat in the high-backed chair, feeling the cool leather seat through her clothes and clutching her nightgown-covered knees. Her knuckles whitened. She let her feet twitter back and forth on the carpet, but kept her spine straight and rigid, staring back at the professor's motionless face. Part of her wanted to burst into tears, and another wanted to flee as fast as her wobbly legs would carry her. There was no way to back out now. It was all up to fate, once again.
There was a long moment of silence after Nat had finished speaking, and she was starting to wonder when he was going to get to it and kick her out. Xavier took a deep breath, licking his lips and clicking the cap onto his pen before placing it aside. "Well. This does raise some rather unforeseen problems, doesn't it? I must admit, this isn't what I was hoping to hear from you."
She twisted her hands in her lap, and found that she could still not look directly into his eyes. Instead, she stared into those of the painting of the woman (his mother?), before it began to blur through a screen of tears. "I-I just had to tell you, before you found out on your own. I didn't mean to wait this long before I told anyone, really. On the…the island, I tried so many times to tell Moira—" Her voice broke off, and she dropped her gaze to her feet. She breathed in deeply, shakily, and continued, her voice wavering under the weight of her words. "I'll…understand if you want me to go. I can get my things, and…"
The professor pulled away from the desk, approaching her in his chair, until he was next to her. When he spoke, his voice was once again replaced by that strange echoing one, inside her head, and she jumped at the realization that he was in her mind again. Suddenly, her own skull felt crowded, like a bathroom shared by sisters, their feet pressed against every tile on the floor, too many hands on the countertops.
"Relax, Natalie."
"C-can you hear my thoughts?"
"I can, and I think that it's time you shared your secret with me."
She started when she understood what he meant, a dreadful fear welling up within her. "I already told you! Why do you need to—"
There was a strange feeling pressing down, like warm fingers on her brain, and the voice grew closer, more insistent, but somehow kind. Her real eyes could see the professor's intently staring face not far away, but her inside eyes could see him everywhere. "I'm not going to hurt you…I just need to see what happened that night…"
Like water slowly rushing in, it seemed to be too much to fight against, his gently seeking mental tendrils probing at her memory. The voice went from invader to unconscious comfort, like a strange embrace, and she felt herself giving in to it. "I-I can't remember everything…"
"Whatever you can remember is fine. Just concentrate."
And it was as if the world had exploded in Nat's face. There were flashing colors, a screaming wind in her ears, and she began to backpedal in terror, her hands flailing in the air and her throat cramping, making her unable to cry out. She scrambled in her chair, feet kicking helplessly at the floor, before she started to recognize the shapes and sounds rushing past, relaxing slightly but still breathing hard. The professor's voice was soft and tender in the background, and through his constant mental coaxing she began to make out the figures of people she knew, places that she had been.
Nat quite clearly saw her cousin, the boy who had made the time spent at her aunt's house a living hell with his taunting and tormenting. She could feel the cool autumn air blowing in through the window at her grandfather's house, tousling her hair, and the cliffs on Muir Island where the birds fought over bits of fish and seaweed. Seated on the edge of her bed, she was listening to the ghost stories that her father used to tell, then crying when they buried her pet cat, Muncie. There were buildings she had only passed on the street, books she hadn't read in years, and jokes she hadn't understood when she'd first heard them. Wrong answers on math tests, long-forgotten childhood games and favorite songs playing on the radio rushed by her. Present and past fused together, nothing behind or ahead, nothing happening at the right moment because it all seemed to be happening at once.
And then they had arrived at that night. Nat tried to back away, to return to those happier memories, even the ones about Muncie or cousin Jason calling her "freak", but the professor's focus was astounding. It was as if he were beside her, within her and above her all at once, and there were two Nats playing out the story under his watchful gaze. There was the Nat who was living it, the girl with the sick feeling in her stomach and the terror of discovery, and the Nat who was watching it all over again, unable to suppress the same feelings in her own body. The past had caught up with her, quite literally.
She could feel the agony of seeing Lily go down, although she had to admit that it didn't look so bad this time, and the white-hot glare in Morgan's eyes as she raised that accusatory finger in Nat's direction. There was the slapping of her heels on the ground as she fled, the spray of leaves and twigs that showered her, and the sting of salty tears on her cheeks.
"Thank you, Natalie…"
As suddenly as it had begun, it ended, and Nat was back in her chair in the professor's office, staring up into his face. He looked oddly serene, but the set of his square jaw hadn't melted away.
"I'm sorry. I know that wasn't something that you were anticipating, but there was no way to explain it before you had experienced a mental connection of your own." He smiled faintly, apologetically.
"But…why did you need to see that? I told you what happened, and I wasn't going to lie about anything, I swear!"
"I know that positively now, but one can never be too sure." Her eyes were downcast, dark curls looping around her paled face, and Xavier rushed to mend his words, placing a hand on her shoulder in his best imitation of a soothing manner. His voice was soft when he spoke again. "I never intended to harbor any mistrust against you. It's difficult to clarify, Natalie, but I had to make sure that you were telling me the complete truth, that all of it was accidental, before I proposed my plan."
"Plan?" A sick fear, and a painfully curious excitement, was building in her chest.
He paused, glancing at her sideways as he flipped open his laptop, staring at the screen as if for inspiration. Nat absently noticed the large "X" on the background of the screen, holding her breath as she waited apprehensively for him to continue. He rubbed his hands together. "I cannot simply keep you here without attempting to get in touch with anyone that might be trying to get into contact with you. Doing so could potentially put all of us in more trouble than you know. The institute must remain a very private place, for obvious reasons."
Nat felt her heart contract, but Xavier continued, unabated. "But I also refuse to simply hand you over to the authorities, knowing that, although you are responsible for the events of that night, you committed no intentional crime. Although their intentions in punishing you would be good ones, they would not be able to understand that night as I now do."
Her voice was tiny and frightened, her shoulders slumped. "How can you do both?"
His nostrils flared in thought, his chest rising as he inhaled deeply. "There is a good possibility that I could…make myself involved with the investigation that is undoubtedly underway. If we could show the truth to the girls who witnessed what happened, rather than simply the tail-end of the attack—please forgive me for labeling it that, but it is likely how they saw it—there is a chance that they could be persuaded to retell what they know. I have dealt with matters such as this before."
"What…what if they don't? Change their stories, I mean?" Her head felt as if it had been stuffed with cotton and marijuana smoke. New thoughts seemed to get caught, and they struggled to make their way all the way through her brain, stifling her responses but stirring up confusion and a dull fear.
"They will."
Nat frowned, not sure what to think of this turn of the conversation. "How can you be so sure?"
"I know more than you may think about how the human mind works. I can show them that you are innocent of causing deliberate harm, probably enough to clear you of calculated wrongdoing."
"Wha-what'll happen to me then?"
He wheeled himself to the door, opening it for her and allowing her to step into the darkened hallway. He followed her out, and they approached the stairs that would take her upstairs to her room. "I can manage with the rest. Try not to let it bother you too much, and get a good night's sleep. I'll do a little research about what happened to you, and we can discuss this more in the morning. I'll tell the others not to wake you."
Nat watched him, eyes wide and once again threatening to spill hot tears, but she clenched her teeth and nodded brusquely. "Thank you, Professor Xavier. I don't know how to say how much your help means to me…"
He smiled warmly, rubbing his temple as if it hurt him and shooing her toward her room with the other hand. "Good night, now." Nat stepped up onto the stairs, wriggling her toes through her socks on the cool marble floor.
"Oh, and Natalie?"
Turning back to him, she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, trying to hold back a sniffle. "Yeah?"
"You need not worry about me telling anyone in the household. Your secret is safe with me for as long as you wish to keep it."
Nat smiled, looking enormously grateful. "I'd appreciate that, Professor. I guess I'm not quite finished with secrets yet. And Professor?" She had made it halfway up the broad staircase before she paused, smiling down over her shoulder at him. "Thanks again."