Chapter 7 – The Picture
"Well, here we are." Wolverine announced, opening up the front door.
"Home, sweet home." Bobby agreed.
Rogue trudged in after the two of them. She cast a glance back at Shamira, carrying only two suitcases, one under each arm. Cyclops soon followed, brushing past as he immediately headed up the staircase. But Shamira took no notice of him, as she slowly turned around in a circle, observing her surroundings. "So, this is the Xavier Institute." She said at last.
"He should be back soon." Wolverine said. "He'll be wanting to talk to you. You'll be rooming with Rogue, so in the meantime you can get unpacked."
"I'll help you with that." Bobby offered, taking one of the suitcases from Shamira.
"How many people live here?" Shamira asked softly as they climbed the staircase.
"A lot. Many of them go home for the summer holidays. To parents who actually love them." There was a hint of bitterness in Rogue's voice as she pushed open a door. "Welcome to my humble abode."
The room was fairly large. Two bunkbeds were pressed against two walls. Two small wooden desks were placed under the window and chest drawers and a closet door lined the remaining wall.
"We've got some empty drawers. I'm afraid you'll have to pick a top bunk—Jubilee, the other girl I room with, she's got the other bunk bed."
"I like the top bunk anyhow." Shamira gave Rogue a reassuring smile.
A blonde hair boy with huge angel-like wings appeared in the doorway. "There you are." He said, exchanging hi-fives with Bobby. "You got back just in time. A bunch of us are setting up to play some soccer down at the field. You in?"
"You bet." Bobby quickly set down the suitcase.
"Who are you?" The angel boy stared at Shamira.
"This is Shamira." Rogue introduced. "Shamira, this is Warren, or Angel, if you like."
"Pleased to meet you." Shamira gave a small nod.
"Great. I'm always up for a game of soccer!" Bobby sprinted past Warren. "Race you there!"
"Hey, no fair, you got a head start!" Warren flapped his wings and soared down the hall.
"You can fly!" That was Bobby's echoing reply.
"That Warren character is a bit of a show off isn't he?" Shamira commented as she unzipped one of her suitcases.
"Who, Warren?" Rogue sat on one of the bunk beds. "I guess he can't help but show off every once in awhile. He's got good looks, and everybody knows it, including him. I bet you half of the girls here have a mad crush on him."
"So he must have a lot of girlfriends." Shamira said with a small laugh. Empty drawers opened and neatly folded clothes flew into their proper place.
"You would think so, but Warren's one of the most grounded people that I know."
"Oh? How so?"
"Well," Rogue began thoughtfully. "I suppose a lot of guys could have fun knowing all those girls had a mad crush on him. But Warren doesn't do that. In the many years that Bobby's known him, Warren's only had two girlfriends. That's his nature, he only asks out girls that he really likes. He's not the kind to play around with one's emotions."
Shamira smiled as she took the last remaining items out of her suitcase. "That's what all guys should be like."
"It's a shame." Rogue agreed. She gave a curious glance at the items Shamira had taken out of her bag. "What's that you got there?"
"That?" Shamira gave an almost embaressed laugh. "That's a picture of me...and my dad."
"But...it's only got you there." Rogue could barely believe her eyes. Inside the wooden pictures frame, that was a picture of Shamira, standing beside a silhouette of a person.
Shamira gently placed the photo frame on top of one of the chest drawers. "I know it's going to sound silly. My mom and grandmother did a good job in raising me, did all they could. But deep down I needed a father, and he was never there for me. I grew up with the fool's hope of finding him within my lifetime. So I made this picture. When I die, the silhouette will be filled with the picture of my dad."
"That doesn't sound silly. I'd probably do something similar to that if I was in your position."
"Tell you what." Shamira said suddenly. She picked up the picture frame again and offered it to Rogue. "Why don't you hang onto this for me?"
"Oh, but. I uh, I couldn't..." Rogue began.
"Take it." Shamira offered it to Rogue again. "As a favour for me. I think it would be rather sad if I passed from this world and nobody knew about it."
There was a rough knocking at the door and both girls turned their heads to find Wolverine standing in the doorway. "Xavier wants to see Shamira in his office." He said gruffly before walking away.
"Pleased to meet you. I'm known as Shamira, or Breeze, I guess that's my alias name."
"So now that you're here, I guess we might as well begin." Professor Xavier wheeled back behind his desk. "First off, I would like to thank you for saving Scott Summer's life. Bringing him back from the dead, as I understand it."
"I was thankful to be there. It wasn't his time to go." Shamira said simply.
"I believe that you are fully aware that your powers make you one of, if not the most powerful mutant on the planet." Xavier leaned forward in his chair. "One of the most probing questions I have is that I would like to know how you managed to evade Cerebro's mutant detection system. There is only one other mutant I know who can do the same thing."
"To tell you the truth, I don't know how I avoided your detection system. All my life, I had never wanted the mutant part of me to be 'found' so to speak. In a way, I can sort of close my powers and shelf it away on a book, not look at it or use it. I guess from that I was hidden. The only explanation I can offer is that recently there were times when I lost control of the powers that were keeping me hidden. And that little bit I guess was enough for the X-Men to find me."
"Just how far do your powers go?"
Shamira leaned back in her seat. "Even if I wanted to, I wouldn't be able to tell you simply because I don't know. Which is what scares me sometimes, thinking whether or not I have limits. The only thing I would be able to tell you is that most of my powers seemed to have been routed within my imagination, my mind. Anything that I can picture, if I can hold onto that picture, it becomes real."
"Anything?"
A pencil flew off of the Professor's desk. Shamira snatched it and broke it into half. The two pencil pieces remained suspended in the air. The girl put her hand over the broken pieces, and they rejoined together and became whole again.
"The only thing I know what would limit my powers." Shamira continued as she placed the pencil back onto the desk. "Is my conscience, and the morals and values that I was brought up with. I also have the gift of foresight—powers inherited from my mother, but I don't like to use them because of the things I believe in, like privacy."
For once Professor Xavier found himself at a loss for words. Several moments of silence passed.
"Well, since I don't like to pry, I might as well ask." Shamira said at last. "Please tell me about the man whose live I've saved."
It was Professor Xavier's turn to lean back in his seat. "Scott Summer, probably known to you as Cyclops, was one of my first students, as well as another mutant by the name of Jean Grey. Spending many years in each other's company proved only to be a matter of time before the two of them fell in love. But...tragedy struck a few years ago at Alkali Lake. Jean sacrificed herself to save the rest of the X-Men. Logic tells us that she is dead, but Cyclops still hangs onto the hope that she is alive, and that she will return."
"A hope that fades everyday." Shamira whispered.
"Yes, that hope does fade with each passing day." Professor Xavier was taken aback. "But for Cyclops, that hope will never be gone. It seems unlikely that he will ever let go."
Cyclops stood silently in the hallway, watching a group of mutant children playing games in the courtyard. Stealthy, a pair of feet approached him. A pair of feet that slowly changed into cat-like paws.
"Why do you continue to live in the past?" The angelic voice spoke.
Cyclops slowly turned around. "Because I believe she will return. She's still alive. Somewhere."
"And what if she's not?"
In one quick motion Cyclops grabbed Shamira and slammed her again the window. There was anger in his eyes, while hers remained calm, almost bordering on boredom. 'Jean's not dead." He hissed. "She's not dead." He put his hands around her neck, but for some reason he was unable to squeeze and suffocate his victim.
"I'm sure you witnessed my power back in Kingsville." Shamira said calmly. "I gave you your life back. I could take it away again in an instant."
"Is that a threat?" Cyclops growled.
"It is fact."
"Let's say Jean was to come back today, or even to walk through the door this minute. Look at yourself." Shamira continued. "What would she see?"
As if waking up from a dream, Cyclops suddenly became aware of what he was doing. He was trying to strangle the girl that had brought him back to life, the girl that could take it away at the flick of a wrist. Suddenly exhausted, Cyclops dropped to the floor and began to weep.
Wordlessly, Shamira knelt beside Cyclops and wrapped her arms around him. After an eternity, the sobbing died down to sniffles and hiccups.
"Thank about who you are." Shamira whispered to Cyclops. "Who you are now, who you've been ever since she left. Now think of who you could be that would make her proud of you, and become that person. So she can really be proud of you. Either when she comes back, or when she's looking down at you from heaven." Shamira quickly got up and walked down the hall, leaving Cyclops alone with his thoughts.
Author's Note: Sorry I haven't updated in forever (once again.) My bad. Hopefully I will get the story done before the summer is out, but that seems unlikely. Thanks to all the people that are still sticking and reading this story. If you can, please review. My apologies if I offended any really hardcore X-Men fans by not being accurate to every detail.