The Beginning
He'd been on the road for two days, and he still wasn't quite sure how he had managed to survive. He remembered making it to the bus stop and buying a ticket for New York. It had taken a good chunk of the money, but he thought it sounded as good a place as any to get lost in. And he had even managed to run into the nicest old man in the world. Eddie had thought he was blind, and so he bought him a pair of sunglasses and lunch. Scott hated himself for having played along, but he had been so hungry. And with the sunglasses, he could bum some tape off random business people he met on the bus, tape his eyes shut and hide the makeshift surgery. That way he didn't have to worry about hurting someone or about unwanted questions.
However today was the day the bus ride would end. Today he'd be in New York, blind, penniless and homeless. He hadn't let himself think about it before, but now he couldn't bring himself to think about anything else. How was he going to live? What was he going to do?
It turns out that all his worrying was for nothing. Just as that break from dancing at the prom had been when his life irrevocably changed, that New York bus stop was the place where his new life - the one he was destined for - began. He stepped off the bus, unsure of even which direction to walk in. Before he could even take one step, a crisp British voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Scott Summers?"
Fear filled Scott. How did this man know who he was? Was he a cop? FBI? Would he take him back home to punish him for the prom night? Or would he be taken to some lab to be poked and prodded? A strong urge to run almost made his feet start moving of their own accord, but his curiosity about the man won out. He tilted his head in the direction he thought the voice had come from and tried to look as tough as possible.
"Yeah?"
"Scott. My name is Charles Xavier. I'm here to help you, not to hurt you or turn you in. Will you hear me out?"
What do I have to lose?
"I guess."
"Thank you. My car is over in the lot. Would you like to go get something to eat?"
All the warnings Scott had ever heard about getting into cars or accepting gifts from strangers ran through his head. But, for once in his life, Scott threw caution to the wind. He wanted to trust someone so badly. He wanted to stop running, to let someone else solve the problem. He wanted to believe that this Xavier guy really was there to help him, not to hurt him. He wanted to believe that he wasn't alone.
Xavier obviously knew Scott's answer even in his silence. "Very good. Just walk straight ahead for about twenty feet. I'll let you know if you have to move out of the way or step over something.
A wave of relieve washed over Scott. Someone else was in charge. He could stop worrying for just a little bit. A part of him - maybe a part that had been absent prom night - felt like everything had finally fallen into place.
He took the first step forward.
* * *
They ate at a small diner near the bus stop. Or rather Scott ate..and ate...and ate, while Xavier just had tea. Normally, Scott would have been a bit more restrained when eating in front of strangers, especially when said stranger is paying for the food. But right now he was too hungry to care about propriety. And there was something about Xavier that made Scott feel like it didn't matter what he did, the older man would always be happy to care for him. That was something Scott had never felt sure of, even after years of living with Sandra and Bob.
And yet, as comfortable as he felt around Xavier, Scott couldn't shake the feeling that the other shoe was about to drop. It finally did so around 5:30, during dessert.
"Are you ready to talk about your mutation yet?"
Scott nearly choked on the piece of cherry pie he had just stuffed into his mouth. To hear someone talk about it so cavalierly made him feel a sliver of hope that maybe not everyone would treat him like a freak. He cleared his throat and put his fork down on the table.
"What do you mean?"
"You must know that you'll have to deal with it eventually. Wouldn't it be better to do that now, so you can get a head start on the rest of your life?
Scott snorted derisively. "What life could there possibly be for me?"
"Scott." Xavier's voice was impatient, long-suffering.
"What? There's nothing for me. I'm blind, I have no money, no family. I'm a mutant, for Pete's sake.
"So am I."
He just said it. Not like it was something to be ashamed of or, for that matter, something to be proud of. He just was. It was a fact, a part of who he was. It scared Scott a little that someone could be that confident in himself that he could just admit to being something that most of the world feared and hated. A small part of him felt ashamed with himself, for at those words, a sliver of fear ran through him as well. Why was he afraid because Xavier said he was a mutant? Wasn't that a bit hypocritical.
No, Scott. It's smart to be afraid. Scott jumped in his seat as Xavier's voice bounced around in his head. His heart raced and, if they had not been taped shut, his eyes would have opened automatically. Mutants are, in many ways, just like non-mutants. There are good ones and bad ones. And it has nothing to do with their mutation, but instead with how they use them. I can assure you, I use my mutation - telepathy - ethically and honorably.
I can, obviously, speak into your mind and, if I wanted to, read your thoughts. But I don't and I won't. You can trust me. I know that's hard to accept just at face value, but if you give me the chance, I would like to prove it to you through my actions.
"And- and what actions would those be?"
"I'd like you to come stay at my house. I will help you figure out how to control your mutation. You don't want to keep your eyes taped shut forever, do you? In addition to teaching you how to be a mutant, I am qualified to continue teaching you the subjects you were learning in high school, as well."
"I...don't have any money. I can't pay you."
"Did I say anything about money?"
"What do you want instead?
"To make sure you don't grow up with the fear and self-loathing that so many other mutants have had to face. And maybe, someday, you can repay the favor to others."
Scott sat quietly, thinking long and hard about Xavier's offer. A part of him was afraid of going off with a virtual stranger, but a stronger part wanted to see what Xavier could do. Would he be able to help Scott again? Just the mere chance of that was enough for Scott to throw caution to the wind. He finished his pie, and the two left for Xavier's home in Westchester.
And that's how he found himself lying on a big bed in his own room of what he could only assume was a mansion. Xavier had brought him to the room as soon as they got to the mansion; he said resting now was more important and that they could take care of everything else in the morning. Except morning seemed like a long way off. He couldn't fall asleep, but at least he couldn't see a clock to find out how late it was getting. Instead he just laid there, wondering about what kind of person Xavier was, wondering if he would ever be able to see again, wondering what the future held in store for him, wondering if he would ever see Sandra and Bob again. Wondering, wondering, wondering. Thoughts and worries chased themselves around his head endlessly, and part of him thought his brain would never be quiet again.
Finally the darkness started to seem a little less dark. A knock at his door announced Xavier's presence, and Scott followed him to another room where breakfast was waiting. Despite the massive amount of food he ate last night, he was hungry again and his mouth watered at the smell of eggs and sausages.
Xavier let him eat in peace while he read the newspapers. Scott finished eating and Xavier set the paper down.
"Well, let's get started then. First, tell me about how your mutation manifested." It was a hard story for Scott to start telling. He may not be able to see at the moment, but he could still remember what the destruction he had caused looked like. He relived the smells and sounds of that night, his heart beating fast in fear just from thinking about it.
However, as he continued talking, it started getting easier until the words were flowing out of his mouth. And it was as if the fear was connected to the words. The faster they left his mouth, the better he felt about the situation, and he suspected that a large chunk of it was the fact that Xavier seemed to be okay with it. He hadn't judged him or reacted negatively in any way. Scott felt that the older man understood what if had felt like - like maybe, just maybe, he wasn't actually that different.
Scott finished his story, and Xavier released the breath he had been holding in for the last couple of seconds.
"Interesting. Many mutants' have had their powers manifest in public, and often traumatic ways, but you seemed to react differently than most. You kept your head, even in the face of your fear and pain. I doubt very few people would have been able to find their way out of a school blind, much less develop and execute a plan so well. I commend you; it's an important skill to have."
Scott blushed. That hadn't been what he was expecting the first words out of Xavier's mouth to be, but they had done more to help him accept the situation than anything else might have.
"Thank you, sir."
"Your welcome. I think the next thing we shall do is figure out how to control your mutation." The if we can was as implicit in Xavier's statement as it would have been if he had just said it. But he hadn't said it, so Scott didn't bring it up either. They would soldier on as if there was no doubt that Scott could control it.
But in the end, it would have been better if they had dealt with it at first. Perhaps then the disappointment would not have been so difficult to bear. They tried pretty much every mental and physical exercise they could think of, but it was no use - his brain could, or would, not control his mutation. For the first time, Scott faced the very real possibility that he would never be able to open his eyes and see again.
At the end of the long, exhausting and ultimately fruitless week, Scott and Xavier were sitting in his office in companionable silence. Scott could hear the crackle of the fire in the fireplace and idly wondered what the office looked like. Thoughts like that were depressing him more and more often; he sighed and shifted in his seat.
"I'm sorry, Scott. I really thought we'd be able to figure this out."
Scott didn't say anything. There wasn't really anything to say.
"I realize it's only been a week, so it's a little early to think there's no hope. In fact, I have one more idea, if you're willing to try it?"
Scott turned his head in the direction of Xavier's voice. Hope sparked in his chest, and, in a way, it was more painful than any of the disappointments he felt this week.
"What's that?"
"If you grant me permission inside your head, I can perhaps find the area that controls your mutation."
It was such a simple idea that Scott was mildly confused they hadn't thought to try it before. But then he realized that Xavier probably had thought of it before. He probably dismissed it without even bringing it up to Scott, who knew how much the older man hated messing with other people's minds. The next words out of Xavier's mouth proved his suspicions right.
"I would have suggested this before...but, in the long run, it would've been easier if you could have figured it out on your own. But...now...it might be the only chance we have."
"Then what choice do I have?"
Xavier sighed. "You always have choices, Scott."
For the first time since the prom, Scott erupted in anger again. "Will you just cut this crap out? I'm tired of you being all sage-like and shit! I don't have choices! I don't have anything!"
Xavier sat quietly all throughout and immediately after Scott's outburst. The silence was deafening, and Scott felt ashamed for having lost it, especially when Xavier had done nothing but help him since the two had met.
"It's been a long week, Scott. Why don't you go to bed, and we'll try it again in the morning?"
Scott thought about the large, cold bed waiting for him in the other room. He thought about the lonely dark hours of the night spreading out before him, and he knew that tonight would be another sleepless one. He thought about the bandages and the fear. He thought about the future. Although he kept insisting he couldn't possibly have one, he desperately wanted to be proven wrong. But the future he now wanted wasn't one for himself. He wanted a future so that he could go out and help other mutants. He had only spent a week with Xavier, but the man had influenced him in so many different ways. He thought about how much better he had felt this last week than the first couple of days, even with the disappointments he had suffered. He wanted to help other mutants feel the same way. But he couldn't do that if he couldn't function.
"No. I want to do it now. I can't spend one more night like this - not knowing. Please. Tell me if there's a chance." His voice was shaky with tears. Ashamed at his weakness, Scott cleared his throat. He almost lost it again, though, when he felt Xavier pat his shoulder.
"Alright. Just...relax."
Scott took in and released a breath, leaning his head back on the couch. He started in shock when he felt the first soft tendrils of Xavier's mind flitting across the surfaces of his mind. It was as if he was actually touching the brain, but it didn't feel weird. It was comforting. The tendrils jumped here and there finding memories and thoughts and feelings. Scott was embarrassed, knowing that Xavier was finding things out about him that he would never told him on his own. But, in a way, he didn't care. Not just because he knew this was going to possibly help him, but also because he knew how much Xavier respected people's privacy. He knew that Xavier would never think less of him because of what he sees.
Scott felt the tendrils go deeper into his brain, now he was examining the physical structure of the brain - trying to figure out where the part that would control his mutation was. He wasn't quite sure how he knew and understood all the actions Xavier made, unaware that it wasn't just his mind that was open. He and Xavier were connected at the moment, and anyone with telepathic ability in his situation could have read Xavier's mind like an open book.
And because of this connection, he knew when Xavier found the controls - knew that they were badly damaged - knew that he'd never be able to control his mutation, that he was blind for the rest of his life. And Xavier knew he knew because no words were spoken. The older man wrapped his arms around Scott, ignoring the difficulty of the motions around the confines of his wheelchair.
And Scott wept.
