Beauty and the Beast
Chapter Twenty: Adjusting to Changes
Jennifer quickly adjusted to life in the Xavier Institute. Being an early riser, she would watch, amazed, at the way the Institute came to life in the mornings.
But once the mansion had been emptied of all the teenagers, she would feel almost as empty as the mansion itself. Now that she could neither teach, nor distract herself from that reality by fighting Principal Kelly on the matter of her dismissal, she had pretty much nothing to do, for all the other adults had work to do on the matter of mutant rights, and train the X- Men and the other students.
Jennifer felt very alone.
At least, until a very simple question changed her point of view.
"Can you help me with my homework? 'Cause I don't understand."
Jennifer looked up from the book she was reading in the library. "What kind of homework is it, Jamie?"
He scowled. "Science. The stuff Professor Xavier gives me is always too hard."
Jennifer raised an eyebrow, smiling ever so slightly. "Is that so?"
"Yeah. And it's boring! Science is always boring!"
Jennifer did not even try to cover her laughter this time. "You'd better not let Hank hear you say that!" She smiled at the boy standing just above her eye level. "Come on. You won't think science is boring after this."
*
"Normally, Jamie, the most important rule in chemistry is not to lick the spoon, but I think in this case we can make an exception."
Jamie looked up from the bowl seated on the counter in front of him and frowned. "This is chemistry? I thought we were just cooking."
Jennifer smiled up at the boy from her wheelchair. "Chemistry is about transformations, about making new things out of old things. Now tell me, did the ingredients we used to make this cake change into something else?"
Slowly, the boy nodded. "Yes."
"Then a reaction took place. If the ingredients were the reactants, then what is the cake? Remember what I told you earlier, Jamie."
Jamie thought for a moment, then his eyes lit up. "The product!"
"Good work, Jamie. Now do you think chemistry is boring?"
The answer came almost immediately. "No!"
Jennifer continued to smile as she said, "That's what I wanted to hear. Now hurry up and ice this cake, so we can get onto the most important bit: licking the bowl!"
"Yeah!"
While the boy happily complied with Jennifer's order, she held back a sigh. As much as she loved being around these students, with all their gifts, she couldn't help but feel slightly out of place. And without her physical human abilities, she was even more different.
Not for the first time did she wish that she was a mutant.
*
Jennifer had always known that she was stubborn: she had had people telling her that for her entire life. And she was not the kind of person to let a small matter like not being able to walk to keep her from doing what she wanted to do.
But she knew how Hank would react if she told him what she had planned.
He had been fussing over her since the day she had arrived at the mansion. In the beginning, she thought it was sweet, and let him devote all his attention to her. But now if she even tried to rise from her chair unnecessarily. . . he would act as if she had tried to jump out of the window. Several times she had to restrain herself from just screaming at him to let her do her own thing. She was worried that she might not be able to stop herself the next time.
As much as she loved Hank, she needed to know that she could do some things on her own. How could they even think of having a future together - which they had been discussing - when Jennifer felt that she could not do anything on her own? She had spent pretty much her whole life fending for herself, and she needed her independence.
But the thing that worried Jennifer was how to explain all this to Hank.
But it was not Hank she went to with her problem. It was Xavier.
You see, it was not the loss of her ability to walk that was troubling her at that time (well, it was, but that was not her main concern), it was the void in her memory of the night which had left her without a home, without her possessions, and without the ability to walk, even if it was temporary.
But the loss of the night's events from her mind was returning even faster than her ability to walk.
And it frightened her.
She would wake up in the night from a dream where she was surrounded by fire, heat and smoke, to find herself in a strange place. It would take her a few moments to remember where she was.
And then it would all come rushing back to her. The memory of the figure dressed in black, its voice, its blank face. . . bit by bit, details would gather in her mind as she sat in the dark, to afraid even to scream.
"Charles," she said to him one day when they were alone. Jennifer had made sure that Hank was nowhere near the vicinity when she spoke to Xavier. She did not want him to worry.
This was her problem, not his.
"What is it, Jennifer?"
"I-" she began, but she stopped, hesitant. She bit her lip, indecisive. She had thought this would be easier, but she was wrong.
"Yes?" prodded Xavier.
Jennifer pushed forward, wanting to get this over and done with. "I would like you to read my mind. I need to know what happened that night."
"The night of the fire?" Xavier asked gently.
Jennifer nodded. "It's all coming back - in flashes. I just can't put it all together. I just need some help." She smiled wryly. "I never enjoyed jigsaw puzzles. And if I can put everything together, I might be able to figure out who did this to me." Jennifer gestured to her leg, still heavily bandaged, with her left hand and arm, which was also bandaged. "I just want to be able to have one night where I don't wake up about to scream," she finished quietly.
"Of course," said Xavier. "And I understand. But I must ask you, are you sure that you want to do this?"
Jennifer looked directly into his eyes. "I wouldn't have come to you otherwise. If I had any other option left to me, I would be taking it right now, instead of coming to you."
"All right. Now, Jennifer, I want you to relax, and try to remember what happened that night."
As Xavier placed his hands near the side of her head, Jennifer closed her eyes. She began to remember, and suddenly she was falling, falling into darkness. . .
Jennifer opened her eyes, and sucked in a deep breath. She was back in her home, perfect in every detail, and most important of all, all of it was there, and unharmed by the fire.
She was different, too. She did not have the brand of the fire on her skin.
She did not have any more time to wonder at Xavier's power, as she felt a presence behind her, the same way as it had been on that fateful night.
"Hello, Jennifer."
With a jolt Jennifer realised that everything was going to happen exactly the same way it did that night. This was just a memory, and she could not change it.
But she could use it to her advantage.
Jennifer felt her body move, and turn around, even though she did not want to. Something else was controlling her, moving her body without volition.
All she could do was watch, a prisoner inside her own body, as the night's events replayed themselves. But that was what she needed, she realised. She could take note of things that she had not really noticed before, but her subconscious had absorbed, waiting for her to find it.
Something might give her a clue as to who her attacker was.
She just had to remember. . .
"What do you want?!" Jennifer's voice shouted, but Jennifer herself had not wanted to speak, and had not even tried to move at all.
This was just a memory.
"To warn you, Jennifer. Mutants are dangerous."
There was something familiar about that voice. . . but what? Jennifer tried to remember, as the memory continued to play.
"Get out of my house!"
Once again Jennifer tried to run away, and once again the figure grabbed her. And again she kicked and fought to try and get away.
"Don't make me hurt you, Jennifer," repeated the figure, still in the calm voice it had always used. The familiarity was growing stronger, but still. . .
"Let go of me!"
As she had done before, she tried to get away one last time, and the same thing happened this time.
The figure reached up and grabbed a lamp that was on, and with one final blow, struck Jennifer on the back of the head. The room went dark, and Jennifer hit the floor, unconscious.
But something different happened this time.
Even though Jennifer knew she was supposed to be unconscious at this point, and, she was, she could still hear what was going on.
Of course, she whispered to herself, the sleeping and the unconscious are still receptive to what's happening on the outside.
The figure was speaking, but its voice was different, no longer calm, but starting to panic.
"Ms Reed?" It was no longer calling her Jennifer. "Ms Reed? Ms Reed?! What've I done? I've got to get out of here!"
Then the figure ran from the room.
But not before Jennifer recognised the speaker's voice.
"Jennifer? Jennifer?" called a voice, that echoed in her mind. "You can come back now."
Jennifer opened her eyes to find Hank peering down at her, his big blue eyes filled with concern. He must have come into the room while I was under, mused Jennifer. Out loud she said, "It worked."
"It did?" came Xavier's voice - it was, Jennifer realised, the one that had pulled her out of the memory.
Jennifer looked around Hank to see Xavier still there behind him.
"It worked," Jennifer repeated, more to herself than the two men. "I know who did it."
Chapter Twenty: Adjusting to Changes
Jennifer quickly adjusted to life in the Xavier Institute. Being an early riser, she would watch, amazed, at the way the Institute came to life in the mornings.
But once the mansion had been emptied of all the teenagers, she would feel almost as empty as the mansion itself. Now that she could neither teach, nor distract herself from that reality by fighting Principal Kelly on the matter of her dismissal, she had pretty much nothing to do, for all the other adults had work to do on the matter of mutant rights, and train the X- Men and the other students.
Jennifer felt very alone.
At least, until a very simple question changed her point of view.
"Can you help me with my homework? 'Cause I don't understand."
Jennifer looked up from the book she was reading in the library. "What kind of homework is it, Jamie?"
He scowled. "Science. The stuff Professor Xavier gives me is always too hard."
Jennifer raised an eyebrow, smiling ever so slightly. "Is that so?"
"Yeah. And it's boring! Science is always boring!"
Jennifer did not even try to cover her laughter this time. "You'd better not let Hank hear you say that!" She smiled at the boy standing just above her eye level. "Come on. You won't think science is boring after this."
*
"Normally, Jamie, the most important rule in chemistry is not to lick the spoon, but I think in this case we can make an exception."
Jamie looked up from the bowl seated on the counter in front of him and frowned. "This is chemistry? I thought we were just cooking."
Jennifer smiled up at the boy from her wheelchair. "Chemistry is about transformations, about making new things out of old things. Now tell me, did the ingredients we used to make this cake change into something else?"
Slowly, the boy nodded. "Yes."
"Then a reaction took place. If the ingredients were the reactants, then what is the cake? Remember what I told you earlier, Jamie."
Jamie thought for a moment, then his eyes lit up. "The product!"
"Good work, Jamie. Now do you think chemistry is boring?"
The answer came almost immediately. "No!"
Jennifer continued to smile as she said, "That's what I wanted to hear. Now hurry up and ice this cake, so we can get onto the most important bit: licking the bowl!"
"Yeah!"
While the boy happily complied with Jennifer's order, she held back a sigh. As much as she loved being around these students, with all their gifts, she couldn't help but feel slightly out of place. And without her physical human abilities, she was even more different.
Not for the first time did she wish that she was a mutant.
*
Jennifer had always known that she was stubborn: she had had people telling her that for her entire life. And she was not the kind of person to let a small matter like not being able to walk to keep her from doing what she wanted to do.
But she knew how Hank would react if she told him what she had planned.
He had been fussing over her since the day she had arrived at the mansion. In the beginning, she thought it was sweet, and let him devote all his attention to her. But now if she even tried to rise from her chair unnecessarily. . . he would act as if she had tried to jump out of the window. Several times she had to restrain herself from just screaming at him to let her do her own thing. She was worried that she might not be able to stop herself the next time.
As much as she loved Hank, she needed to know that she could do some things on her own. How could they even think of having a future together - which they had been discussing - when Jennifer felt that she could not do anything on her own? She had spent pretty much her whole life fending for herself, and she needed her independence.
But the thing that worried Jennifer was how to explain all this to Hank.
But it was not Hank she went to with her problem. It was Xavier.
You see, it was not the loss of her ability to walk that was troubling her at that time (well, it was, but that was not her main concern), it was the void in her memory of the night which had left her without a home, without her possessions, and without the ability to walk, even if it was temporary.
But the loss of the night's events from her mind was returning even faster than her ability to walk.
And it frightened her.
She would wake up in the night from a dream where she was surrounded by fire, heat and smoke, to find herself in a strange place. It would take her a few moments to remember where she was.
And then it would all come rushing back to her. The memory of the figure dressed in black, its voice, its blank face. . . bit by bit, details would gather in her mind as she sat in the dark, to afraid even to scream.
"Charles," she said to him one day when they were alone. Jennifer had made sure that Hank was nowhere near the vicinity when she spoke to Xavier. She did not want him to worry.
This was her problem, not his.
"What is it, Jennifer?"
"I-" she began, but she stopped, hesitant. She bit her lip, indecisive. She had thought this would be easier, but she was wrong.
"Yes?" prodded Xavier.
Jennifer pushed forward, wanting to get this over and done with. "I would like you to read my mind. I need to know what happened that night."
"The night of the fire?" Xavier asked gently.
Jennifer nodded. "It's all coming back - in flashes. I just can't put it all together. I just need some help." She smiled wryly. "I never enjoyed jigsaw puzzles. And if I can put everything together, I might be able to figure out who did this to me." Jennifer gestured to her leg, still heavily bandaged, with her left hand and arm, which was also bandaged. "I just want to be able to have one night where I don't wake up about to scream," she finished quietly.
"Of course," said Xavier. "And I understand. But I must ask you, are you sure that you want to do this?"
Jennifer looked directly into his eyes. "I wouldn't have come to you otherwise. If I had any other option left to me, I would be taking it right now, instead of coming to you."
"All right. Now, Jennifer, I want you to relax, and try to remember what happened that night."
As Xavier placed his hands near the side of her head, Jennifer closed her eyes. She began to remember, and suddenly she was falling, falling into darkness. . .
Jennifer opened her eyes, and sucked in a deep breath. She was back in her home, perfect in every detail, and most important of all, all of it was there, and unharmed by the fire.
She was different, too. She did not have the brand of the fire on her skin.
She did not have any more time to wonder at Xavier's power, as she felt a presence behind her, the same way as it had been on that fateful night.
"Hello, Jennifer."
With a jolt Jennifer realised that everything was going to happen exactly the same way it did that night. This was just a memory, and she could not change it.
But she could use it to her advantage.
Jennifer felt her body move, and turn around, even though she did not want to. Something else was controlling her, moving her body without volition.
All she could do was watch, a prisoner inside her own body, as the night's events replayed themselves. But that was what she needed, she realised. She could take note of things that she had not really noticed before, but her subconscious had absorbed, waiting for her to find it.
Something might give her a clue as to who her attacker was.
She just had to remember. . .
"What do you want?!" Jennifer's voice shouted, but Jennifer herself had not wanted to speak, and had not even tried to move at all.
This was just a memory.
"To warn you, Jennifer. Mutants are dangerous."
There was something familiar about that voice. . . but what? Jennifer tried to remember, as the memory continued to play.
"Get out of my house!"
Once again Jennifer tried to run away, and once again the figure grabbed her. And again she kicked and fought to try and get away.
"Don't make me hurt you, Jennifer," repeated the figure, still in the calm voice it had always used. The familiarity was growing stronger, but still. . .
"Let go of me!"
As she had done before, she tried to get away one last time, and the same thing happened this time.
The figure reached up and grabbed a lamp that was on, and with one final blow, struck Jennifer on the back of the head. The room went dark, and Jennifer hit the floor, unconscious.
But something different happened this time.
Even though Jennifer knew she was supposed to be unconscious at this point, and, she was, she could still hear what was going on.
Of course, she whispered to herself, the sleeping and the unconscious are still receptive to what's happening on the outside.
The figure was speaking, but its voice was different, no longer calm, but starting to panic.
"Ms Reed?" It was no longer calling her Jennifer. "Ms Reed? Ms Reed?! What've I done? I've got to get out of here!"
Then the figure ran from the room.
But not before Jennifer recognised the speaker's voice.
"Jennifer? Jennifer?" called a voice, that echoed in her mind. "You can come back now."
Jennifer opened her eyes to find Hank peering down at her, his big blue eyes filled with concern. He must have come into the room while I was under, mused Jennifer. Out loud she said, "It worked."
"It did?" came Xavier's voice - it was, Jennifer realised, the one that had pulled her out of the memory.
Jennifer looked around Hank to see Xavier still there behind him.
"It worked," Jennifer repeated, more to herself than the two men. "I know who did it."