Friendship

The music echoed from the bare walls and the far corners of Xavier's expansive garage. Scott's feet stuck out from underneath the Jaguar. Three semesters of Auto Shop at high school, plus a lifelong love of anything that went "vroom", were more than enough to teach Scott the intricacies of any type of engine, even one of a car that he had never dreamed of getting the chance to work on.

            But that day's tinkering wasn't just because of the lure of the engine; it was also to escape the lure of Jean and the guilt that lure inspired. He wanted to be friends with her, but he didn't like how much he wanted to befriend her. Sighing, he closed his eyes for a few seconds before re-opening them and picking up the wrench.

            Scott.

            Scott jumped, nearly hitting his head against the underbelly of the car.

            "Yeah?"

            Scott's voice sounded weird in the emptiness of the room, but he still felt uncomfortable "thinking" conversations with Xavier.

            Please come to my office.

            Scott reached out to the cement on either side of him and pushed himself out from underneath the car. He grabbed the rag and wiped his hands off. He sat up, groaning from the pain in his lower back. That was not the most comfortable way to spend two hours. Leaving the garage and turning the stereo off as he did so, Scott walked slowly, confused about the summons, concerned that Jean would be there too, concerned that part of him secretly hoped she would be.

            He knocked and entered, feeling the unsettling rush of disappointment/ happiness at not seeing Jean.

            "Hello, Scott. How's the Jag coming along?"

            "Very good."

            "Excellent. When it's done, it's yours."

            Scott stood there, dumbstruck, gaping at the older man. "Uh, what?"

            "You heard me," he smiled at Scott. "Indulge me and my foolish generosity."

            "Th-thank you." Scott's legs finally made good on their threat to give out and he practically fell into the chair across from Xavier. He was used to Xavier being great to him, better than anyone else had ever been. But this was too much. It wasn't like he was Xavier's real son.

            Close enough.

            Scott started, looking at the older man in shock, even as his heart burst with happiness.

            "Sorry. You were broadcasting pretty loud and clear...but that wasn't the only reason I called you in here."

            "Oh?"

            "It looks like we may need to start our school plans sooner than I thought we would. I was using Cerebro this morning. There's a scared young woman coming our way with a mutation even I find scary."

            The awe and fear in Xavier's voice intrigued Scott, even as a heavy weight developed in the pit of his stomach at his confusion over what kind of mutation could inspire those feelings in the man.

            "What can I do about it? I haven't been properly trained yet. I can't teach anyone anything yet."

            "The traditional school will come later, Scott." Xavier said, pausing to take a drink of tea. "Sometimes it's more important to teach people that they're not alone. You can teach this girl that better than anyone else. You can teach her that she doesn't have to be defined by her mutation, doesn't have to consider herself to be just a weapon. Your power is awesome and terrifying. But you've learned that it also has its uses. That it can be constructive as well as destructive...and that it isn't the only thing that makes you you."

            "Well, when you put it like that..." Scott leaned back in the chair, perching his left ankle on his right knee.

            "I will be swinging by the bus stop tomorrow afternoon. We'll be back about 4. I would like it if you and Jean could both be on the welcoming committee."

            Scott looked at Xavier guiltily, fully understanding the other man's meaning that he hadn't been exactly friendly with the older girl.

            "I...I know I haven't been the-"

            "Scott." Xavier held up a hand, shaking his head slightly. "It's okay. I understand."

            "You...do?"

            "You're broadcasting that pretty clearly, too." He said with a smirk. Scott blushed furiously.

            "Scott...you're a young man. You're allowed to be attracted to people. Kim loves you. She  trusts you. She doesn't expect you to be perfect. No one does because no one can be."

            "Yeah, yeah, yeah." Scott stood, heading toward the office door. "I understand that...intellectually. I just have to understand it emotionally now."

            Scott left the room and started making his way back to the garage.

            She also loves you for your ability to care...to be a friend...to help those in need. Jean needs a friend, Scott.. Show Kim that she's right to love you."

            Scott's steps faltered. He leaned against the wall, his heart constricting, his mind racing. He sighed and started walking again. Toward Jean's room.

                                                            *                      *                      *

            Jean was sprawled out on her back on the large bed that dominated the room. She took several deep breaths and closed her eyes, letting her mind wander into itself. She pictured the walls up around her brain. The walls were erected by Xavier, maintained by him too. But every day, four hours a day, she practiced with them. Learned how they were built. Learned what they did. Learned how to strengthen them, to manipulate them, to duplicate them and destroy them. Until one day when she understood every minute detail about the shields and the mind they protected, she could take care of the shields herself.

            She longed for that day.

            It's not that she didn't appreciate what Xavier had done for her. She did. But she had always hated having to depend on someone else. And the fact that she was dependent on him for her own peace of mind, for her own sanity was almost too much for her. She had plans for her life, dammit. And they didn't include staying holed up in a mansion with a man she respected but was still too embarrassed to really open up to because of her inadequacy at learning how to use her powers. She didn't want to live just down the hall from a boy who wouldn't even give her the time of day. And she most certainly didn't want to be stuck here learning how to use these powers she didn't ask for when she should be at school, or in a lab or at the hospital with Hank. She wanted to be doing what she had always dreamed of doing. She wanted her old life back.

            She didn't want to be a freak.

            The tears were flowing freely now, the study of her shields completely forgotten. She turned onto her side, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around her stomach. Her heart felt like it was breaking.

            The knock on her door startled her so much she shot up to a sitting position, breathing hard and heart pounding.

            Kleenex. I need a kleenex. I can't be seen like this. The desire to keep up a strong and independent facade was so strong it practically screamed through her head. She was frantic. She was desperate. She looked around wildly, her eyes landing on the box of kleenex on the desk.

            The box of kleenex that flew at her.

                                                                        *                      *                      *

            Scott stood outside Jean's door, waiting for her to respond to her knock and desperately trying to think of a plausible reason for coming to talk to her for the first time...ever. He hadn't thought before knocking. He just acted. He just wanted to do something to assuage the guilt he had felt at Xavier's words. It seemed like he couldn't do anything without feeling guilty. He talked to Jean, he felt guilty. He avoided her, he felt guilty. But, after what Xavier had done for him, he owed it to him to at least try. He would just have to make it up to Kim.

            Then he heard the scream and acted without thinking again.

            Slamming the door open, he ran into the room with his hand up by his glasses' controls. His heart pounded and fear unsettled his stomach, but he also felt invincible. He felt like he was doing something right. Like running into danger to help the damsel in distress was something he was born to do.

            Except...there was no danger. At least none that he could see. Jean sat on her bed, tear streaks marring her face, staring at the box of kleenex in her hands. She didn't even seem to realize that Scott had, for all intents and purposes, broken into her room.

            "Jean...what is it?" His hand was still up at the side of his face, ready to release the deadly rays. The adrenaline racing through his body was exhilarating, but it was tempered by the concern he felt for her, the sympathy he felt at the sight of tears in her eyes.

            She looked up at him with a dazed expression on her face, not really seeing him. Her eyes were wide open, wild and frightened and confused.

            "Scott?"

            "Jean, what's wrong? What happened?"

            "It just...moved. On its own."

            "What did?"

            "The kleenex."

            "Huh."

            "It didn't move on its own, Jean." Scott spun around at the sound of Xavier's voice. The older man rolled into the room, allowing his comforting presence to envelop the room and its occupants. "You made it move."

            "But that's not possible."

            "Jean, you can hear people's thoughts. Is it so hard to believe you can move things with your mind?"

            "But...but...I can't have two mutations."

            "This isn't an exact science. Who says you can't have two different powers. Not to mention that they're sort of related. Talk about it with Hank sometime." Xavier turned his wheelchair around and headed out the door. "It looks like we're going to have to adjust your lessons."

            He left, leaving Jean sitting on her bed, confused and scared, and Scott standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, unsure of what to do. They stared at each other in silence until Scott couldn't take it anymore.

            "Do you want to go for a walk?"

            She continued to stare at him. Should she or shouldn't she? Why did he want to spend time with her now when for the last couple of weeks he had treated her like she had the plague? Could she trust her fragile heart to a boy who didn't seem to understand what his avoiding her had made her feel?

            Could she stand being alone anymore?

            "Ok."

            He smiled and held out his hand, pulling her to her feet and out of the room before letting go. They wandered around the garden for an hour. And they talked. Only this time, they didn't talk about their pasts or their mutations. Instead, they talked about their favorite movies, books and music. They told jokes. Scott gave a play-by-play description of his work on the Jag. Jean did her famous impression of Agent Scully. They laughed and they walked. And they became friends.