A/N: Sorry for the delay. I hope this chapter makes up for it – I think it just might.

Disclaimer: Not my characters, not my world.

All That Glitters

Part Five - Doubt

Her face again. Sometimes he thought he knew that face. Sometimes he saw others, too – vague images that flitted across his consciousness like butterflies. Dark hair and fingerless gloves; overalls and anger; greenish skin and – was that flies? But as he tries to look closer, the images dissolve into nothingness, leaving him alone. 

Footsteps, his mind registers. He doesn't know where the thought comes from, but some part of him knows it is significant. He lies very still. Maybe if he is very, very quiet, the strange footsteps will not invade his white world. They will allow him to keep the images that come only when the footsteps have been long gone.

"…dose him again?" The words are meaningless. He knew them once, he is sure, but now they hold only a vague knowledge of a threat. He huddles in a ball, drawing deeper into himself.

"No need. He's out cold." The footsteps are close now. A strange sensation covers his right cheek. What happened? From out of his fogged mind a word appears – pain. Another vision swims up – that of huge hands lashing out at another form. That was it. Someone had struck him.

There. The footsteps are receding, and they have not brought more pain, have not made his veins burn and his eyes water. The images are still his to behold; suddenly they are very, very important. He must not lose them. He lies down and shuts his eyes to the ever-present blinding white light, searching, striving to hold on to the fragments of memory that have not abandoned him. He sees the faces and knows he is not alone.

* * *

Lance stormed down the hallway in a high bad temper. Angrily he yanked his locker open and threw his books inside, suggesting under his breath that his history teacher perform some highly unlikely and biologically impossible acts involving dead animals and kitchen utensils. Who was she not to accept his paper late? He'd actually written the stupid thing, what more could she possibly ask for?

His locker shut with a satisfying bang, and he took perverse pleasure in the fact that several freshmen scrambled to get out of his way as he stalked towards the cafeteria. A little voice spoke up inside of him, warning him that people were watching, that they might decide mutants were a threat, but he smothered it easily. He had his powers completely under control, so it didn't matter.

As he approached the cafeteria doors, he heard the telltale shouts of a fight. He grinned savagely; that was just the thing he wanted to see in his current mood. Maybe watching a few students pummel each other would calm him down.

Lance pushed roughly through the loose ring of students surrounding the scuffling pair. Vaguely he was surprised that the onlookers were staying so far back; usually fights had to break up because one of the participants was thrown into the encroaching crowd. He made his way to the front and froze. So that was why they had stayed so far back.

Todd and Kurt had cleared a rather large space of the cafeteria. He watched in horror as Kurt teleported out of the way of Todd's incoming kick. He reappeared behind Todd and prepared a blow, but Todd anticipated the move and spun around to block it. Todd's slime was everywhere, coating the floor and the two mutants.

Within seconds, Lance's horror turned to anger. He had told Todd to avoid fighting! He thought Todd understood that they needed people to accept them, and that would never happen if he and the fuzzball kept using their mutant powers to fight in front of everyone!

Lance's eyes rolled back in his head without conscious thought. A low rumbling filled the cafeteria, centered on Kurt and Todd. They fell away from each other, and Lance immediately stopped his tremor and grabbed Todd by the arm. "Hey, what gives?" the younger mutant protested, twisting to meet his assailant. "Lance?"

Lance ignored him and reached out his other hand for Kurt. The boy looked surprised and tried to yank away, but Lance held him firmly. "Don't even think about teleporting," he muttered to Kurt angrily as he pulled them along, away from the crowd. As soon as they were a safe distance away, he growled, "What did you think you were doing? We can't afford to have this kind of negative attention! I thought you understood that!"

Todd squirmed in Lance's hold and answered, "Tell that to Blue Boy, yo! He's the one who jumped me!"

Kurt glowered at Todd. "After what you said about Amanda, you're lucky I didn't do more than just fight you!"

Lance glared at both of them. "I don't care who started it. Both of you should realize that there's more at stake here than your stupid little rivalry!" He shook them fiercely for emphasis. "You got that? I never want to hear word of something like this again!" His fury had apparently cowed the pair into bowing to his authority, at least for now. They both nodded. He released them, feeling an odd sense of accomplishment.

Todd immediately took off down the hall. Kurt started to do the same, then hesitated. He looked back at Lance. "You know…" Kurt began cautiously.

"What?" Lance barked. Kurt backed up a step before catching himself.

"It's just…" Kurt shook his head. "You almost sounded like Scott just then, telling us off for doing something stupid."

"What?" Lance spun around to face Kurt, ready to deny it, but the younger mutant had already teleported away.

* * *

Jean walked alongside Duncan on their way to get ice cream, pretending to listen to his chatter. In reality her mind was a million miles away. Specifically, her thoughts were behind her several blocks, back where she had talked to Rogue. Their conversation kept playing inside her head. "Is it your truth or is it his truth?" Rogue's voice mocked her.

She shook her head to clear it. Rogue was being ridiculous. She had actually implied that the Professor would use his powers to control them! That was simply unthinkable!

Unthinkable? A tiny part of her asked. Rogue's words came back to her. "He's just one man. He can make mistakes. If you can't accept that, then maybe there's something really wrong." She could accept that the Professor could be wrong. Couldn't she?

"What?" she asked Duncan distractedly. "Oh. Vanilla." She didn't know why he bothered asking her what she wanted; every time they came to this ice cream parlor she got the same thing.

"Boring," Duncan snorted. "I'm getting the He-Man sundae." That was no surprise, either.

She walked with Duncan over to a table and sat down. Not for the first time, she wondered why he had stayed with her. Certainly Kurt's girlfriend, Amanda, had experienced some extreme harassment for dating a mutant. Maybe the status that came from dating the former most popular girl in school was too great to lose – she knew that no one had stepped forward to claim her throne as Queen of the student body yet. Or maybe – maybe he really liked her. However, that line of reasoning made her distinctly uncomfortable. She had recently begun to realize that her feelings for him were not at all what she had imagined them to be.

"If you can't accept that…" Jean pushed the voice away. "So, Jean, did you see my awesome moves in the game last night?" Duncan began.

Jean smiled, while cringing inwardly at his inflated ego. "You know I did, Duncan. I congratulated you after the game."

"That's right! Do you remember that one play in the second quarter, when I…" Jean tuned out the rest of Duncan's sentence. She knew what he would say. Out of the corner of her eye she saw three girls enter the ice cream parlor; all of them were part of the "in" crowd and very well endowed. They waved at Duncan, who ignored them as he used his hands to mime his "awesome moves" of the previous night. They looked disappointed and gave Jean angry looks. For a moment their thoughts threatened to overpower her. Jean quickly threw up stronger mental shields, and the foreign thoughts vanished. This was the reason she stayed with Duncan. He had, knowingly or unknowingly, allowed her to fit back into the regular stream of high school life much more easily than her teammates. No one would openly insult Duncan's girlfriend. And there was another reason, one she didn't like to think about, but –

It's so easy to be with Duncan, Jean thought. His motives were clear and simple; she never had the problem of trying to figure out what he really meant by a certain phrase or action. That quality had led Rogue to comment that he had the brains of a rock, but for Jean it was a welcome relief. The Professor had taught her how to shield her mind from constantly picking up the thoughts of others, but it was difficult to maintain it. If a thought was directed specifically at her, it was nearly impossible to shut it out. Some days she felt so frustrated at the constant bombardment of mental comments that she nearly screamed. On the first day back after the incident with the Sentinels, she had come dangerously close to reaching out with her powers to silence the other minds. Well, that was a polite way of putting it – a more accurate description was that she considered striking them temporarily brain dead, or at least shutting down the part of their brains that thought about mutants. She had stopped herself, but the incident had shaken her. Duncan was much easier to deal with. He simply had no particularly strong thoughts, and the ideas he directed at her were easy to deal with. There was nothing unexpected in his mind.

Duncan stopped talking for a moment, and Jean dutifully filled the silence with compliments on how well he had played. He grinned and started talking again, leaving her with nothing to do but nod and smile at appropriate intervals. Her mind wandered back to her conversation with Rogue.

It really was ridiculous. Anyone could see that the Professor would not use his students that way. There would be no reason to. He knew that the students would listen to him simply because he was their mentor. There was no need to use his powers.

Oh, no – someone was thinking at her again. Her shields were just not working. She reached out, intent on redirecting that person's thoughts elsewhere –

And stopped cold.

What was she doing? She couldn't just alter someone's thought pattern like that! Then, as a wave of sickness came over her, she thought, the Professor –

The Professor had much stronger mind powers than her. If she had trouble blocking people out, how much trouble would he have? Her thoughts came faster now, tumbling over each other as they came into being. Maybe he can't. Maybe he does influence the minds around him, just to make their thoughts easier to bear.

No, that was silly, it stood to reason that if his powers were stronger, his shields were stronger than hers as well –

But I was upset with him after Wanda left, she thought frantically. I know I was! There must have been a reason! She racked her brain, but she could no longer remember why she had thought Wanda should be told Pietro's whereabouts. She had thought that the Professor was wrong; why couldn't she remember why?

The answer chilled her to the bone – or at least, an answer. She had no proof…

"Maybe there's something really wrong."

Maybe, Rogue, Jean thought at last. Maybe.

* * *

Professor Xavier massaged his temples lightly. Dealing with Wanda and then Jean had taken more out of him than he had expected; Jean's telepathic ability was truly skyrocketing. He smiled with pleasure at the thought of his pupil's success. The Professor then closed his eyes and turned his mind to the X-Men's further training. They had not had many sessions since the Sentinels; he really should schedule a few practices soon –

A mental tug on his brain jerked him out of his reflection. Evan's thoughts, clear as if he had shouted, poured into the man's brain. Oh, man, I completely bombed that test, the Professor's gonna kill me, what am I going to do – Xavier pulled himself out of Evan's thoughts with an effort. Quickly, the Professor sent a tiny arrow of thought in his direction, an image of Dr. McCoy helping him with any questions he had. That's it! I'll ask Mr. McCoy! Evan thought triumphantly. He'll help me! Xavier sighed in relief as Evan's thoughts turned to other matters; they faded away from the Professor's mind as Evan forgot about dealing with Xavier's supposed wrath.

Charles Xavier was the most powerful telepath in the world, and no amount of shielding could keep out all the thoughts of those around him. With his students, whom he lived with and had emotional ties to, the incoming thoughts were especially strong. Any acutely intense emotion or thought of his students exploded into his head without warning.

No sooner had Evan's mental "voice" faded than a new one took its place. This time it was Kitty, as she worried about her attraction to Lance. Like, he's been really nice to me lately, but he was such a jerk before, and…The Professor shook his head in exasperation. No matter how many talks he had with Kitty, she still returned to this circular pattern of thought. He sent an image of Lance, angry and destroying their old school. She recoiled from the memory. He reinforced it, this time adding a mental command of "stay away." He smiled as he 'heard' her agreement. Lance was simply too emotionally damaged to be good for her. True, he had changed since becoming the default leader of the Brotherhood, but it wasn't enough. He couldn't allow this attraction to go on. How could he face Kitty's parents and tell them that he'd let their daughter run off with some delinquent?

Kurt's anger exploded in his head, he reached blindly for the source and blocked it. Kurt calmed down. Scott worried about Jean; he soothed it with a touch. At last the invading thoughts grew silent.

The Professor sat back in his wheelchair and sighed. His students would never have the problems that came from broken hearts, reckless action, or thoughtless error. With almost no effort, he could direct their thought patterns in safe, healthy directions that would let them live happy lives. They would never need to be angry or hurt, because he could lead them to understand their enemies and deal with their antagonists. Their thoughts would be pleasant; their lives would be bright.

And he would finally find relief from the minds clamoring to be heard within his head.

* * *

Jean glanced around uneasily; this part of town made her feel uncomfortable. Still, the mental signal she had tracked came from here. She raised a hand to the decrepit door and faltered. This is insane, she thought. What am I doing here? Her thoughts raced crazily, most of them concerning the stupidity of her actions. Yet some inner instinct told her to press on. What decided her was that the voice telling her to go forward did not come from her mind, but from her heart – she did not know if she could still trust her mind. Jean gathered her courage and knocked on the door.

It took a few minutes before anyone came, and when the door opened, it did so reluctantly. A dark haired figure peered suspiciously around the edge of the door.

"Hello, I wanted to –"

The door flew open angrily. The person behind it glared furiously at Jean and hissed, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Can I come in?" The figure hesitated, then took a tiny step away from the entrance. Jean squeezed past into the tiny, filthy room with difficulty.

The door shut. Jean turned and looked into Wanda's angry eyes. "I have to tell you something." Wanda's eyes narrowed dangerously; she looked about ready to throw Jean out with no questions asked. Jean finished quickly. "It's about Pietro."

Wanda's head snapped up in surprise. She looked at Jean searchingly for a moment, then nodded. Her voice was deceptively soft when she spoke, though it trembled with suppressed rage and anticipation. "Tell me."

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