Sight

Hank rubbed his eyes, sighing in exhaustion. He shoved the papers to the corner of his desk and laid his head in his arms. Mumbling to himself as formulae and solutions ran through his head, he tried not to think about how late it was getting. Then, when he was about ready to give up for the night, the rest of the solutions faded as the correct one blazed against his mind's eye.

            Standing up so quickly his chair clattered to the ground behind him, Hank lunged for the phone and dialed Xavier's number.

            "Hello, this is Charles Xavier."

            "Charles, it's Hank. I've got it."

                                                *                      *                      *

            "If I tell you something, will you promise not to get mad?" Kim hugged Scott's arm, cuddling up next to him. He chuckled at her scared-sounding plea.

            "Uh oh."

            "I-uh, I was talking to Warren last night...and I kinda told him that you were a mutant too."

            "Huh."

            "Are you mad?"

            "How'd he react?"

            "He was really excited. He wants to talk to you more."

            "Oh."

            "Scott. Please? Are you mad?

            He bent down to kiss her head. "No, of course not."

            "Yay!"

            Before Scott knew it, he and Kim were on their way yet again to the Worthington Mansion. The nervousness he felt last time they made the trek was nothing compared to what he felt now. And yet, he was incredibly excited as well. Sure, he had Xavier, but Warren would be the first mutant his own age. It was so great to know he wasn't alone.

            When they arrived, Kim went off with her aunt, leaving Warren and Scott alone to talk, but it took a few minutes before either worked up the nerve to say anything.

            "So...uh...when did you...?" Scott didn't even recognize his own voice.

            "About three years ago - when I was 16. At first, I thought I hurt my back somehow. It ached constantly. Then, one night, the pain was unbearable. My parents were going to take me to the emergency room because there were two lumps on my back, but before they could, the lumps broke. No blood came out, just the first couple of feathers of my wings. They were fully grown within a few minutes."

            Warren let out a shaky breath, and Scott could tell he hadn't told the story that many times more than Scott had told his own.

            "My father and I developed a rack that will hold them tight to my body. I had to get some bigger clothes, but I can go out in public without people running in fear." Warren sighed. "I wish it didn't feel like I was lying to myself, that I was ashamed of who I am."

            The older boy fell into silence, and Scott didn't know what to say. He didn't even know if he was supposed to say anything.

            So he told Warren his story.

            When he was done, the dam broke. Instead of talking about what they were, they started talking about who they were. Their favorite sports, their childhoods, their pet peeves. Within minutes, Scott felt like he was better friends with Warren than anyone else he had ever met, and he was pretty sure that Warren felt the same. They started talking because they had similar genetic make-ups. They kept talking because they were kindred spirits.

                                                *                      *                      *

            The next few weeks were busy ones for Scott. When he wasn't learning new skills at school, he was with Kim, or Warren, or both. With them, he finally felt like he had a family. Then, when he didn't thing he could get any happier, something happened that made all the rest of it seem like nothing.

            His prayers were answered.

            It started like any other day. He woke up, had breakfast with Kim, went to class, rode around with Warren in his new convertible. Then the phone rang.

            "Hello, Scott. It's Charles."

            "Hey, how are things going over there?" The older man spent a few minutes telling him about the new mutant girl that he was helping. Scott felt a pang of jealousy that another person - one with a gift like Xavier's own - was there. He briefly wondered if she would take his place in Xavier's life, but soon silently reprimanded himself for being silly. He would always be Xavier's surrogate son, and he would have to get over the jealousy before they started the school. A lot more kids would be vying for the man's attention.

            "Scott? Did you hear me?"

            "I'm sorry, sir. What was that?"

            "Are you able to come home this weekend for a visit?"

            "Sure."

            The weekend came quickly, and Scott soon found himself in a car heading toward Xavier's home. He felt some curiosity about the new girl, but he knew he wouldn't meet her. Her mind was still too fragile, and she wasn't capable of producing her own shields.

              Xavier was waiting at the front door him. After a few minutes of exchanging pleasantries, the older man asked Scott to come with him to his office. When there, Scott sensed they weren't alone, and he was right.

            "Scott, this is my friend Hank McCoy. I've told you a little bit about him."

            "Oh, yeah. Doctor, it's nice to meet you.

            "Please, Hank."

            "Hank."

            "Scott. When you left for school, I asked Hank if he would think about your situation, and we think we might have come up with a solution."

            "A solution?" Scott's heart lurched, almost afraid of hearing the next words. Afraid that they were what he wanted to desperately hear – but then turn out to be a dead end like everything else.

            "We hope."

            Scott took a shaky, much needed breath. "What is it?"

            "Here. Put these on." Scott reached out his hand and felt a pair of glasses being pushed into them. He slipped his own pair of glasses off and was about to put the new pair on when Xavier stopped him by reaching out to gently pull the tape away from his eyelids.

"Sir. What - ?"

"Trust me, Scott."

Scott paused for a second, but soon slipped the new pair of glasses on."

"Now…open your eyes."

"What?! No!"

            Scott. Open your eyes.

            Xavier's voice in his head sounded so confident that this was going to work, so unafraid, that Scott had no choice but to comply. His eyelids cracked open, and it almost hurt to have them open after so long. The force of the beams erupting out of his eyes caused them to open all the way almost immediately. He remembered the rush of energy from the dance, and the memories flooded in.

            But the painful memories were pushed aside by the wonder of this new experience. The beams weren't hurting anybody, weren't destroying anything. The glasses absorbed the energy and dissipated it. There was a red tint to everything, but that didn't matter.

            What mattered was that he could see Xavier for the first time.

            What mattered was that he could see everything.