Charles woke up, flinching at the noise and reaching for the snooze button. It had been a very long day yesterday. Food fights were bad enough before mutant powers were thrown into the mix. After a few more seconds of trying to make the snooze button work, Charles realized what was wrong. The noise was from a heated argument on the other side of the Institute. This was one of the times he wished he wasn't a telepath. There was no way he was getting back to sleep now.

He pulled himself out of bed and into the waiting wheelchair. Now for the bathroom routine. It was always so much shorter before his...disagreement with Cain. He always took care to show the students a polished image in an effort to encourage them to do the same. It was a good thing they couldn't see him in the mornings.

There was a big, pinkish patterning over half his skull. Once again, he'd managed to pull one of the blankets up over his head in an effort to shut out the noises only he and Jean could hear, the pressed his head into the blanket so hard it left an interesting pattern imprinted on his skin in the morning.

He knew how annoyed Scott was with his own mornings, but he'd take bed head and chin drool (1) over this any day. At least that could be cleaned up quickly. It would take a good fifteen minutes before the blanket marks faded enough for him to go out.

He wished he could take a shower now, but past experience had taught him that any altercations between the students would start approximately three seconds after he lathered up. There were times when he halfway suspected that some of the students had heightened hearing along with their other mutations. This wouldn't be too bad for the others, since they could just throw on a robe and run down, but showering while sitting and getting into clothes without the use of his legs took longer.

After rubbing his eyes free of sand, Xavier took another look in the mirror. It seems Scott wasn't the only one to suffer from chin drool. He washed his face and started shaving. It wouldn't do for the headmaster to come downstairs looking scruffy. He would have preferred to have all the teachers look clean-cut, but Logan would never change.

Next Charles brushed his teeth, then checked the mirror again. His skin was still reddish, but it sounded like the argument that had woken him up was getting worse. He had to get out there soon. He wheeled into his room, got dressed, and returned to the bathroom. The mark was still there.

There was only one thing he could do to get out there in time, yet still maintain his image. Charles pulled himself halfway out of his wheelchair and reached into the back of his medicine cabinet for that horrid jar. On the front of it, there was a smiling woman pushing a cream over her face. Charles sighed as he worked the foundation into his skull to cover the reddish skin, then wheeled out to deal with the situation.

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(1) reference to Sock Munkey's Scott morning fic, don't remember the name.