Charles Xavier sat at his desk pushing papers around. His head ached and he wondered morosely if he did the right thing in forming the X-men.
Of course he had volunteered to care for the nearly dead Mystique. But it had brought unexpected problems. The government had an interest in her. Many other people did, too. The X-men had already repulsed three attempted invasions by friends and foes of Mystique, and he worried that a fourth was in the offing. The Hellfire Club had been too quiet lately.
Then there was the fact that she was, finally, recovering. She should have already begun physical therapy, and would have, had he the time to scan her mind first and ascertain if she were a danger. But the earliest he could manage was the Monday of next week, due to some unforeseen complications.
They had rescued fifteen mutants from a Friends of Humanity enclave in Tijuana, Mexico, and the team involved in the rescue had brought them to the mansion. That meant fifteen new people to set up either in his own organization or those of others, and none of them knew the culture or what being a mutant was really like. That took energy and resources, which were already stretched thin.
Wanda Maximoff of the Avengers had requested a team of X-men to bolster their efforts against the evil wizards tampering with the Northern Lights. He had agreed before the Tijuana mutants had come, and so he was short four more people who could have helped settle them in.
Mystique was a problem in another way. Scott had come to see him just a few days ago. "Professor," he began, "it has come to my attention that Mystique appears to be recovering."
Charles nodded. "She is, indeed."
Scott remained as rigid as a soldier at attention. "Professor, it has also come to my attention that she has no place to go once she recovers. I convey the wishes of most of the other X-men that she not come here."
"What makes you think I would offer her a place here?" he asked Scott, trying to give the impression that this had not been his intent.
"Professor, I know that you would do so with the best of motives, but there is too much bad blood between us. There is no way the X-men could forgive the things she has done." He paused, waiting for a response.
Charles sighed. "Scott, has she willingly served Apocalypse? Archangel did. He found a place here. Has she been a criminal for years? So have Gambit and Rogue, and yet we welcome them. Colossus was a member of the Acolytes. Most of you have dark sides, things of which you are not proud, but there is a place for you. I would not be so quick to dismiss her chance to redeem herself."
Scott remained unyielding despite his arguments, as did a few others who came to him to voice their displeasure with Mystique.
Most of his current problems, indeed, did involve Mystique, either directly or indirectly. Take Rogue, for example, who had been her foster child. She had come to see him two days ago with Remy holding her hand. "I'm pregnant," she said. "Beast took the test for me. I need to see if you can try to analyze my powers and see if they'll affect my baby."
He was delighted for her and agreed to help, of course, but that meant yet more energy going off in another direction. Hank would have less time, as he too was going to help her maintain her pregnancy, and Rogue was off duty as of yesterday due to her condition. That made yet another team member unavailable in case of emergency.
Charles sighed. Perhaps some aspirin would relieve his headache and then he could get to the business aspects of the school, which he had neglected frightfully these past few weeks.
No. Not yet. He put his head on the desk and moaned as he heard a young voice coming down the hall toward his office, and another voice trailing after. It was Jubilee and … Tessa?
" … just gotta see him! He can't let Wolvie do this!"
"Reconsider. Dr. Gray said to wait."
He slowly raised his head. Jubilee burst in. "Professor, Mystique musta done something to Wolverine. She probably seduced him, the tramp, but you gotta stop her. He was right there with her in bed, you know? She can't just take him. It isn't right. Get rid of her."
Tessa followed behind, apologetic. "I'm sorry, Professor. Dr. Gray asked me to contain Jubilee."
He waved his hand, resigned. "Oh, I'm certain you did your best, Tessa. Now, if you could leave us?" She exited, and he tried to regain his normal calm.
Jubilee pounded on his desk impatiently. "Well?" she demanded.
He could not look at her right now. "Jubilee," he said quietly, "were there any stab wounds, gun shots, or other obvious injuries to Wolverine?"
"No," she answered, puzzled.
"Good. Did it seem that she had possessed or taken over his mind? Was she making him into her puppet, copying her every move?"
"No," she answered suspiciously.
He looked directly at her. "Then unless she caused him obvious life-or-death mental or physical harm, take your petty complaints about Wolverine elsewhere. Get out of here. You're wasting my time."
Her mouth opened wide, and then she closed it and frowned. "You'll see," she threatened as she left, slamming the door shut hard and compounding his tension.
Aspirin? He should see if he could get Jean or Hank to get him some methadone or codeine. His head was pounding too hard for him to enjoy his own jokes.