Author's note: I do not claim any ownership to and make no profit from any characters originating in the X-Men universe or any other previously published work. This is simply an expression of my own enjoyment of their stories and characters.
(Besides, if I didn't get my stories based on these characters on paper, I'm afraid my head might have exploded. That would have been a real mess to get off my keyboard :-)
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New Friends, New Enemies – Chapter 1
Across the world, people fell to their knees in pain. First, the mutants, others like himself, and then all other human beings, all falling in agony as he reached out with his mind. Finding each one, focusing on them, fighting them, killing them…
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Eight months later…
In one very quiet and pleasant part of upstate New York, a man sat by a window in an empty classroom and waited for his children to arrive. It was early, only a quarter of eight, and he knew it would still be sometime before his first class of the day began, yet, the man seemed quite content to sit alone and stare thoughtfully out at the bright morning sky. Below him, he could sense the children moving through the mansion, preparing for their day.
A small, warm smile touched the man's face, and his thoughtful blue eyes were lit with a quiet delight, and a not-so-subtle pride.
Across the world, people fell to their knees in pain…
The man touched his hand to his temple and closed his eyes against the warm light. Suddenly, the brightness of the sky burned behind his eyes…a cold, bitter fire.
…people fell to their knees in pain…
The thought surfaced again, and a dark shadow fell over his face. The sounds of life below him faded away, the light from outside dimmed to nothingness. All there was, everywhere, was the dark…the pain…and the cold…
Professor Charles Xavier opened his eyes and stared out at the world silently.
To the casual observer, he would have seemed to be simply what he appeared, a scholarly gentleman who seemed to move and speak with a learned grace. The air about him was one of dignity, a man who stood taller than most people ever could, despite being confined to his polished wheelchair. Yet, to those who knew him best, friends and enemies alike, they would need only to look at his eyes to know he was haunted. To know he had been changed.
For eight months, Charles Xavier had been haunted, by the memories of a place called Alkali Lake. Not many have heard of it, being hidden deep in the snowy mountains of Canada, but to those who had, it was a place that lived in their nightmares, reminding them of their pain…and of their loss.
Xavier sighed, deeply and listened again to the sounds and minds below, trying to block out those painful memories, if only for a short time. The children had begun to wake now, all alive and eager, ready to face the challenges presented by the professor and their other teachers. The life that echoed in Xavier's mind as he listened brought a new light into his darkness. He wanted nothing more than to feed that fire of hope and try to forget the bitterness forming over his heart.
Over the years since he had founded his school, Xavier had brought many gifted children off the streets and helped them grow. He had worked to make a difference in their lives, and most of them had found more hope in the walls of the mansion than they had ever found anywhere else in the world.
For the gifted, like himself, for mutants, the world had become a colder place than even the icy waste surrounding Alkali Lake. In his youth, mutants had first come to the attention of the population, their proven existence changing the face of humanity like no other event had in the past. In a time of chaotic change, mutation had suddenly become the primary taboo of the late sixties and early seventies. Now, the burning force for civil rights and equality had become an empty indifference when it came to mutant rights, ignored by most except those who spoke out against those who were different. Humanity was divided again, and the gap was growing.
After all, it was difficult to convince the world that mutants deserved the right to live and exist, when there were powerful mutants determined to take that right away from the rest of the world.
Yet, are the lines so clearly drawn? Xavier thought wearily, again rubbing his temple, How can those who cause pain be blamed when that is all they have known?
That question had also been burdening Xavier's mind of late. In the past, he had always been so clear on right and wrong, good and evil. But, now, after listening to the minds of those he condemned, was it fair to draw that line so clearly?
Xavier stared out the window again, and listened to the other lives below. These men and women were not children, though most had been when they arrived. They were his students, his most talented and dedicated, those who chose to stay and help educate the next generation of the gifted.
Apart, they had been lost in a world that shunned them.
Together, they were strong…a team…a family.
They were his X-Men, ready to follow him into hell and back for the good of the world…and now most of them had. Unfortunately (and unforgivably to himself), not all of them had come back.
As the image of a billion people dying before him rose up again in his mind, Xavier wished he could speak with the one he had lost. He wished he could speak to Jean Grey.
Inwardly, he knew the pain felt by the world nearly a year before had not been of his own machinations. He had been used, his power had been used, to act on the whims of a madman.
Still, he could not help but think back on that incident and realize one terrifying thought. Part of him...had enjoyed it. Not the killing, not the pain that had been caused, only the simple yet unbelievable pleasure of feeling his powerful mind opened to its fullest. The rush of pure energy, the lost need for control and caution…
Everything he had taught his X-Men not to be.
Jean would have understood, he thought gravely, Jean would have known what to say to get us through this...
A soft knock on the open classroom door pulled Xavier from his dark thoughts, and he turned his chair away from the window without another glance.
"Excuse me, Professor," a clear deep voice said and Xavier smiled with effort as Dr. Henry McCoy entered the room.
"Good morning, Henry," Xavier greeted the large man in a friendly voice.
McCoy returned the Professor's smile, his expression entirely more genuine, as he ducked to clear the classroom's doorway. The long, dark blue hair that covered his skin swished lightly as he moved, his large eyes shining out from a kind, thoughtful face.
"I hope I'm not intruding..." he began, hesitating when he noticed the distance on the other man's face. Xavier shook his head and made a welcoming gesture with one arm.
"Not at all," he replied, "I'm not expecting my class for at least another half hour."
McCoy walked over to Xavier and sat down cautiously on the room's one sofa. He lowered himself slowly, obviously still adjusting to the new massive bulk of his body. Charles resisted the urge to look on the man with pity, knowing how difficult the past eight months must have also been for him.
Henry McCoy had been one of the many mutants around the world who's genes had been activated by the incident at Alkali Lake, and one of many that had come to the mansion since that incident. However, by the man's demeanor, one could almost believe that he had lived with his mutation his entire life. Aside from the impediments caused by his body's size, Dr. McCoy seemed to have adjusted quite easily to his new physical condition, and seemed to have escaped the trauma that so many other's had endured.
"How have you been settling in?" Xavier asked.
"Fine...fine, everyone has been very helpful," McCoy responded, steepling his large hands politely, "This is quite a remarkable place you have here, Professor."
Xavier nodded appreciatively, "Thank you. And, please, feel free to call me 'Charles.'"
McCoy looked almost sheepishly at him, "Well...maybe I'm not entirely settled yet..."
Charles laughed quietly, "I hope your first class won't be too overwhelming. The children can be quite a handful when they want to be..."
The larger man's eyes lit happily and he chuckled.
"They're a delight, Professor," he replied, and then added with a wink, "Scott and Ororo have already pointed out a few of the 'handfuls' to me already. Such remarkable gifts these children have, I feel privileged to have the chance to work with them."
Xavier beamed as Henry spoke. The man's optimism was almost enough to make the professor forget his earlier sad reminiscing. Almost.
A new shadow fell into Xavier's eyes, though McCoy did not notice as the professor spoke.
"I trust the medical bay was found to be satisfactory," he asked, trying not to let his sorrow touch his voice.
McCoy blinked in surprise, "Beyond satisfactory! It may be the most impressive office and laboratory I have ever worked in. I hope to make significant advances to my research into the mutant genome during my time here. With your permission, I would like to..."
He trailed off as he looked on the professor with concern. Xavier's attention had wandered away from McCoy, and he seemed to age as his thoughts pulled him away from their conversation.
"Of course," McCoy continued tactfully, "The lab and all of its equipment have obviously been maintained with great care. Dr. Grey must have been a dedicated clinician..."
The name startled Xavier back to himself, and he met McCoy's gaze again with an uneasy glance. For a moment, neither man spoke, and finally McCoy went on.
"And a remarkable woman," he concluded, his voice soft and soothing. Xavier sighed deeply, and then smiled apologetically.
"Indeed, she was," the professor replied honestly, "Her loss has been very difficult..."
"Of course..." McCoy said, "I must admit...she's left me with some pretty big shoes to fill."
For a moment, the large man's eyes glittered empathetically at Xavier, and then he continued with a shy grin.
"Fortunately...I have very large feet..."
Charles returned the smile, a touch of gratitude on his face.
"I wish you could have known her," he said sadly.
Henry nodded, and shifted to stand as the professor's gaze drifted again. He waited a moment in meaningful silence before speaking again.
"Well," he said, looking down at the professor, "I suppose I should get to my own classroom. I have a lot of 'handfuls' to meet today."
Making his way to the door, Henry McCoy stopped once more before leaving, and glanced back at Charles Xavier.
"Thank you again, Professor," he said, meeting Xavier's eyes one more time, "For...everything."
Charles nodded deeply and gave the man one more smile before he exited, again ducking to clear the door's upper edge. The professor moved his chair again to the classroom's large window and looked out at the sky.
Jean would have liked him, he thought, and continued to smile as looked back on the memory of his lost student, for the first time in eight months, with something more than sorrow.