A/N: Sorry for the long wait, especially after that cliffhanger. You can thank Lisa for this update because she asked if my stories could be posted on her site: Keep Your Eye Open. That kind of jump-started my writing again. Thanks to everyone else who's reviewed, too.

Guilt

Scott sat in the hospital's waiting room, the hard plastic chair digging into his back. Staring into space, he paid no attention to Warren sitting next to him, both of them waiting for word on Kim. He kept his eyes open as much as possible, not wanting to see the blood that seemed to be painted on the insides of his eyelids. In a way, he wished his mutation could destroy his eyelids, too – that way he'd never have to see the blood again.

The last he heard, a couple hours ago, Kim was still alive but in bad condition. Every time a hospital staff member walked by, he sensed Warren stiffen. But he was too lost in his own little world to be as affected. However, his brain was aware enough to nudge him back into reality when Jean walked into the waiting room.

He watched her look around, eyes landing on him and Warren, and make her way through the throng of people waiting for word on their own loved ones. He could tell by the look on her face that she wasn't quite sure what she would say when she reached them, but could also tell that she pitied him. A rush of anger filled his heart. She shouldn't pity him. She should pity Kim. She should hate him, fear him, never want to see him again. He could lie to himself all he wanted, and Xavier could lie too, but he now knew that he would never have control of his mutation. They should just lock him away so he could never hurt anyone again.

He glared at Jean as she stopped in front of him.

"Scott?" Her voice faltered, and he could tell that she could feel that anger rolling off his body in waves. "Xavier sent me to bring you home."

He stared at her for a few seconds. Was she insane? "I'm not going home. I have to be here when Kim wakes up."

She sighed and broke eye contact. "It's been 12 hours, Scott. You need to get some rest."

"I'll rest when she wakes up." His tone was a little more fierce this time, a little more stubborn. He hoped that the message got through to Jean because he wasn't sure how he'd react if he had to defend his staying a third time.

She sat down in the chair on the other side of him. "Then I'm staying, too."

He nodded once, then lost himself again, as he wished again for a different mutation – one that would be able to heal Kim…but, of course, if he had had a different mutation, she wouldn't have needed to be healed in the first place…

Self-contempt started eating away at him again, and everything else was drowned out. He didn't hear Warren introduce himself to Jean, he didn't see the doctors and nurses following the steps of their daily chaotic dance, he didn't feel Jean's hand reaching out to grab and squeeze his own.

He did feel the tears slowly leaking out of his eyes, and did notice as the rays evaporated the tears before they even got a chance to get beyond his visor. Maybe there were some parts of his mutation that were good.

                                    *                                  *                                  *

Warren, Jean and Scott ended up staying in the waiting room for another three hours before a doctor came to tell them that Kim was stable. Warren let out a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. Jean squeezed Scott's hand, and he realized that she had held it all this time. His hand almost hurt when she finally let it go, as he had unconsciously been gripping it strongly the entire time.

The doctor's words bounced around in his head, not really making sense. He let Jean drag him to the hospital room that the doctor had apparently directed them to. His heart broke as he saw Kim lying in the hospital bed, looking so tiny and fragile with the bandage around her head and the IV sticking into her hand.

He went to the bedside and reached out for her free hand, pulling it toward him as he sat down in the visitor's chair next to the bed. He bent down and kissed her hand.     

Scott finally allowed Jean to drag him back to the mansion, primarily because he was too tired to fight it anymore. They didn't say anything on the drive back, but he noticed she kept sneaking glances at him. That bothered him as well. Again, she shouldn't be concerned about him.

When they got back to the mansion, Scott went immediately to his room, fell on the bed and passed out. Almost ten hours later, when he woke up, his face was still buried in the pillow, his feet were still hanging off the side of the bed, and he had one of the worst tastes in his mouth that he had ever experienced. He got his hands underneath him and pushed himself up with a groan. Stumbling into the bathroom, he reached for his toothbrush as he flipped on the light with his other hand.

He caught his reflection in the mirror and he stared at the glasses on his face. He remembered the joy he felt when he realized they would allow him to see again. He felt nauseous, thinking he had traded his blindness for Kim's pain. If he hadn't had the glasses, he would have still had his eyes taped shut and she would never have been hurt.

Scott. Stop blaming yourself. It was an accident.

His anger quickly turned away from himself and toward Xavier.

"Why can't you ever just leave me alone?"

When will you stop beating yourself up about your mutation?

Scott didn't answer out loud, but the word never flashed across his own mind. He knew that Xavier didn't have to break his own ethical rules to know what he was thinking, either.

I have something that might help you feel more in control. Come down to my office as soon as you feel you are able to do so.

Curiosity warred with a childish desire to stay in his room sulking, but the promise of control was too tempting to pass up. He quickly ran the toothbrush over his teeth, slid his fingers through his hair, and grimaced at the wrinkled t-shirt but wasn't bothered enough to change. He closed the door softly behind him, as he didn't want Ororo and Jean to know he had left his room. He didn't want any more pity or curious looks.

Knocking on Xavier's door, he entered without waiting for the invitation, confident that the older man wouldn't have asked him to his office if someone else was in there. He had been wrong, as he saw Hank twist in the chair, a smile of invitation on his face.

"Hello, Scott."

"Hank….Xavier."

"Scott, how are you doing?"

Scott shrugged his shoulders, still not quite understanding why everyone was so concerned about him. He wished that people would just acknowledge that Kim was the only one that deserved concern. The only thing he deserved was punishment.

"Have a seat, Scott." Xavier wheeled out from behind his desk and closer to the couch that Scott had tentatively perched on. "I know that when we first learned you wouldn't be able to control your mutation, you felt helpless. I know that the glasses' ability to at least turn the rays off seemed like the next best thing. Recent events showed me that we had to try to see if there was any option that was a little better."

Scott's stomach twisted, the blame he felt making him imagine that it was reflected in Xavier's voice. Did he want him to leave? Consider him a danger to Xavier and the girls? Did he lose his chance at the future school? For the first time in a long time, he feared that Xavier didn't really care for him enough to overcome this obstacle. Maybe he hadn't finally found a father figure.

Scott. Stop worrying. I don't blame you. I don't fear you, and you shouldn't fear yourself. I know that's easier said than done, which is what I hope to help you with today. I want to give you control…

"What could possibly give me control?"

Xavier turned his wheelchair to face Hank, who had been sitting quietly waiting for Xavier and Scott to have their private exchange. "Hank?"

The doctor stood, holding out something that Scott hadn't paid any attention to before this moment. The red material his glasses were made out of formed a thin line, which was surrounded by thick, black plastic. On the side was a dial. Obviously it was something to wear, but he didn't understand how it would give him control.

"Scott, I made this for you last night," Hank sat down next to him on the couch. "The goggles will fit more securely to your face, making it harder for them to be knocked off. What's more important is, this dial will allow the rays to come out whenever you want them to – and it will allow different intensities of the rays to come out. The glasses took away the power the rays had over you by allowing you to see. Now, the goggles will give you power over the rays."

"Why would I want to use them? All they've ever done is cause destruction."

"Scott, all of our powers have the potential for destruction. It's how you use your powers that define them. Ororo's storms could cause destruction, but, with time, she'll be able to cause a light rain to grow plants. My powers could let me control the minds of others, but I use them to learn, heal and teach. Jean's telepathy could cause injury, but she may someday be able to lift something that's pinning a person down."

Xavier reached out for the goggles Hank was holding, twirling the dial to its different settings. "Who knows what potential for good your power could have. But one of the only ways to know is to learn how to use it. You can't control it with your mind, but you can learn to control it with this."

Scott gingerly took the offered goggles, turning them around in his hands as he inspected its design. Xavier wheeled back toward his desk to pick up a block of wood, returning to Scott's side with it.

"We'll start learning how to control it with this," he said, putting down the wood and pulling a figurine of a horse out of his jacket pocket. "I want you to use the smallest setting and work on replicating this. You can work on it in here, in the privacy of my office. Hank and I will leave you alone."

Scott looked up, startled. "Don't you think I should work on it outside? I might wreck something in here."

Xavier smiled. "I trust you."

He and Hank moved to leave the room, but Xavier paused before they left. "Scott, I don't expect you'll get the control perfectly – this is just the first exercise. Don't go into this thinking 'I must replicate the horse'. Go into it thinking 'what do I have to do to replicate the horse'. Have fun with it."

The men left, while Scott looked back and forth between the block of wood and the new goggles. He sighed, closed his eyes and replaced the glasses with the goggles. He reached up and spun the dial to the smallest setting, stared hard at the figurine and let loose the first ray.