Chapter 8
Meeting Professor Xavier
Something was bothering Mystique at the moment, and it wasn't just simple wonder or frustration at how spineless her team of Brotherhood mutants had become. Well, that was bothering her, more or less. She was really concerned more on what uncertain future that could or could not come to pass that she had heard of from Destiny.
It was death her friend's visions had spoken of, and frankly, there was nothing else that seemed important about it. All except for whom the visions were about. They were about Rogue. That was Mystique's chief concern at the moment. But the really big part that left Mystique hanging like she absolutely hated was the fact that Destiny's visions of Rogue were uncertain.
But yet, these visions were about Rogue only half of the time. There had been another. Another person who was likely in the danger of suffering the same thing. But there was another "another" that made Mystique's questions flow. Was he another human? Another mutant? Another X-Man? Another something else that she hadn't even thought of? The thinking was making Mystique's brain hurt.
Mystique got up off her bed where she had been sitting for the past hour ever since Destiny had called her. He had needed time to think things through, and was practically drained from thinking. She had to move and work her motor neurons rather than her thinking neurons.
Leaving her bedroom, Mystique walked down the rather tattered up hallway, courtesy of sloppy housekeeping of her spineless Brotherhood boys. Mystique really needed to do something to get her once-tough and formidable team of mutants into something Magneto could really use in case of the need. She and Magneto had been keeping in fairly close contact over the past several weeks, but it was mainly for keeping him up to date with her masquerading as a student at Bayville High so she could keep tags on the X-Men. So far her persona of the British, gothic Risty Wilde was working out fine. And thanks to her "upgrades" from the residual mutant-enhancing energy from the enhancer on Asteroid M, no telepath or psychic could detect her thoughts, and Wolverine's keen sense of smell would not sense her either.
Basically thinking of nothing else other than what she had to do in order to restore good discipline in her boarding house and her concern of Destiny's call earlier that night, Mystique looked outdoors through the window to see how Agatha was doing with Wanda. Sure enough, there on the back lawn of the boarding house, she saw the tall, narrow figure of a woman who had seen many years of existence against what appeared to be a wall of blue-green fire. And through the flames, just visible in the fierce blue-green light, was what she recognized as Wanda's head, the short dark black hair with scarlet red highlighting and massive earrings that were molded in a gothic symbol shape.
Mystique was no true expert in things Agatha Harkness knew in regards to witchcraft and the like, but from her sharpened power of observation she could see Wanda was showing progress in her training. Her first trial against Xavier's X-Men had proven successful, and at that rate, she would be invaluable to the Brotherhood and Magneto. As long as she didn't know the true and precise motives Mystique had in mind.
She heard someone arguing in the living room, and the person who was speaking had a high-pitched voice and was talking so quickly that one could barely isolate the words, or even the syllables of his sentences. And he sounded restless.
It was all Mystique could do not to sigh in exasperation. She walked to the doorway leading into the living room. And sure enough, the white-haired, loud-mouthed Pietro Maximoff was speaking out his thoughts, which was probably the last thing in the world any person in their right mind would want to hear.
"I'm telling you guys," said the speed demon in a fearful tone, "this is a bad idea. Wanda is too dangerous to have around. Mystique was out of her mind to bring her here!"
Lance Alvers was lying on the couch and noticed that the Brotherhood's blue-skinned den mother had entered, a fierce irritated scowl slashed into her bright blue face. A smug look crossed over Lance's face. "Hi there, Mystique," said Lance, shifting his eyes to the blue-skinned shape-shifter.
Pietro gasped and swung around with the speed only he could achieve to find a ticked off Mystique glaring at him. "You doubt my judgment and resources, Mr. Maximoff?" she hissed, narrowing her golden eyes dangerously, "I'm sure you've learned I don't enjoy being insulted behind my back."
"Look, I---You must've misheard me," Pietro stuttered, hoping his lame excuses would save him from whatever response Mystique was thinking of dishing out. Lance, along with Fred J. Dukes and Todd Tolansky, started snickering at Pietro's predicament.
"Your incompetence and arrogance are really starting get on my nerves," said Mystique, "You'd better learn fix that…and soon."
Pietro didn't say anything. Or wouldn't. Or couldn't.
"So, how's our latest member?" asked Lance, "How's her magic coming round?"
"She's learning quickly," Mystique responded, "unlike some people." Lance didn't rise to the bait. He really didn't take much from anybody to really care. Besides, he was tough. But what did he have to compare to the Scarlet Witch? Nothing. HeX powers would win that contest over geological manipulation any day of the week.
"So, since Pietro's sis has helped us out, Yo, when do we get to kick some X-Man coin?" asked Toad, sitting in his frog-like sitting position on the floor, which made him look utterly ridiculous in anyone's opinion.
"Yeah, I wanna show those, goody X-geeks some Blob bouncin' brusin' bashing!' Fred immediately stepped in, raising a huge fist in the air, "You're lettin' a girl do a man's job!"
Lance thought it a little rich that Fred would still think of himself as a man when he'd been shown how unmanly his lack of intelligence made him, and how his over confidence in his superhuman strength and his massive, obese, indestructible, fat-layered body made him even less of a man, at least to some. And if anything could be used as solid evidence that girls could overcome him, it was the fact that Rogue, Shadowcat, and Jean Grey had all single-handedly gotten the best of him, which sealed the evidence down as securely as was possible.
Mystique ignored Fred's remark, for she immediately concluded that his mind wouldn't be able to warp around the reasons and logic she was more than able to make. "I would say that since she's come around our odds have considerably improved," said the metamorph, "But we still shouldn't take any chances. Xavier may be a fool, but he isn't stupid either. He's always formulating new plans for his little X-Men, new training programs, new upgrades for his mansion and security system, new defense weaponry."
"But can't you use that data you got from his big computer?" asked Lance, "I mean, didn't you say yourself you downloaded all his files? If that's the case, why don't we just use that against them?"
"My gathered information will certainly be invaluable," answered Mystique, "But Xavier is always careful and watchful. We need to be sure he doesn't do anything dramatic anytime soon."
"I don't know, yo. If you ask me, this whole spy, download stuff is too deep," said Toad, "This'z an accident waiting to happen."
"On the contrary," said Mystique, "Magneto and I are carefully formulating a plan to bring down the X-Men once and for all. And this one is sure not to fail."
She smiled in a ruthless sort of way when she saw the four boys' ears perk at the mention of a master plan. She hadn't told them anything about something like that. But then again, most of them were not surprised at it. For one thing, Mystique was a devious, cunning, and secretive woman to the core. All the assuming of false identities and infiltration skills at even the most heavily guarded areas. But the thing that was most unnerving was that none of them really knew how deep her secretive manipulation of people went. Lying to Wanda and making them play along was the biggest they'd seen so far, but it would hardly be a surprise if she was capable of deeper, darker deeds of cloak and dagger.
"Are you telling me that getting Wanda here was part of that?" asked Pietro, still unnerved by the fact that his twin sister was here with him, when she hated him as much as their magnetic manipulating father, Magneto.
"How comprehensive you are," said Mystique, the sarcasm in her voice plain, "Yes, that was part of it. But we're still only in the planning stages. Once we're at the true core of it, we'll start to make some real progress in taking down those arrogant teenage X-Men."
"Including Wanda is a bad idea!" Pietro insisted, "She's a time bomb waiting to go off in a----,"
"Doubt my plans and judgment again, Quicksilver," interrupted Mystique, "And I'll really give you something to worry about." Pietro would have to have been blind and deaf to miss the threat in her voice and eyes. The speed demon immediately shut himself up.
"So, what should we know about this?" asked Lance, "I mean, are we part of this or not?"
"You will be, more or less," Mystique replied, "But you know all you need to know for now. So in the meantime, I advise you all to pull your sorry rears into gear so you can do it when I say so."
"But what is this plan anyway?" asked Fred, "I mean, shouldn't we know its steps if we're gonna play along?"
"That is for me to know right now," answered Mystique, "and for you to find out later on." She narrowed her golden eyes at Blob, who knew that look to be one that said 'put a lid on it or you'll be sorry if you carry on.'
Mystique turned and left the living room, still exasperated that Pietro still didn't trust her judgment when he should. Hell, it both her judgment and Magneto's. Wasn't anyone in her pitiful Brotherhood really trusting her these days?
Mystique walked back up to her room, her frustration growing with each and every step. Her frustration of Pietro's lack of backbone, frustration of how weak her mutants had become, and of course, her frustration of Destiny's vision still lurking in her mind. Mystique had gotten Destiny's call over two hours ago and her anxiety was not diminishing at all. If anything, it was escalating.
She had said Rogue was in the danger of losing her life. But how was she? Thousands of possibilities had been through her mind. Death at the hands of terrorists? A fatal mutant attack during a battle? Something else altogether? Mystique brought up her hand to her temple. She was getting a serious case of brain pain again, for the second time that night. She wouldn't be surprised if she got it a third time today.
Mystique simply walked into her bedroom and closed the door behind her. She was feeling totally distracted from her important issues. She really needed to do something to get her mind of Destiny's vision about her daughter. And also off that unnamed boy she had mentioned, who's identity was completely a mystery.
Mystique looked at a small computer that was sitting in the corner of her room on a desk. Beside the computer was a golden computer data CD, which she immediately recognized as the CD containing the files she had had Arcade from Bayville High download for her.
She immediately wondered what exactly she should do with it. Perhaps she should take a closer look at it. After all, she had been researching Xavier's files, which was the reason she found his psychological journal files from his sessions with Wanda at the asylum where Magneto had placed her so long ago. But she had looked through the files only once, and once was never enough times to do anything thoroughly enough, at least to Mystique herself.
The shape-shifter sat down on the chair at her desk and carefully placed the disk into the disk drive. She waited patiently for the screen to show the main desktop menu display, watching the hourglass icon on the LCD monitor that indicated the user to wait patiently for the machine to do its thing. For a minute, the icon remained active. Mystique found herself tapping her blue fingers on her deck, impatiently waiting for the program to begin.
Finally the hourglass icon vanished and Mystique saw the main men of Cerebro's files appear before her. She quickly looked at the list of options the menu offered. Unsurprisingly, the main menu was big one, organized from the most general categories, such as mansion technology layout and X-Men/New Mutant listings, trailing down to the most specific of sections, like detailed blue prints of the X-Men Blackbird and X-Van. It had taken Mystique several hours just to skim through the data. Going through it carefully would take even longer.
The phone on Mystique's desk rang.
She averted her attention to the phone quickly, wondering who could be calling at this time of night. It was currently ten'o'clock and she wasn't expecting someone to call. A part of her suddenly hoped that it was Destiny calling again with more information about her visions. Maybe even giving her the reason for Rogue's predicament or the identity of the blond-haired teenager whom she had no name to connect with. But just as quickly, Mystique pushed that thought aside. Chances were that was not the case. Besides, she had learned the hard way many times in the past that getting her hopes up only to have them dashed made life a lot more difficult than it needed to be.
The phone rang again.
Mystique picked up the phone and answered. "Hello," she said carefully, for she didn't know who was on the other end.
"Mystique," came a deep, dark-sounding, eerily dangerous man's voice over the line that she recognized at once.
"Magneto," she replied.
"Correct," said Magneto over the phone, "I assume everything is under control at the moment?"
"Yes," Mystique told him, "Wanda's training with Agatha is going remarkably well. Her last encounter with the X-Men has proven that she will be a valuable asset to us."
"Indeed," said the Master of Magnetism, "As long as we keep her under control, we can use her powers to our advantage."
Mystique heard the confidence in Magneto's voice. He sure sounded sure of himself. "I'm a little concerned about keeping Wanda from discovering the truth," she said, "Her desire for revenge on you is more extreme than I previously predicted. If she discovers the truth, I'm guessing it will not be something she will take lightly."
"She hasn't discovered it, has she?" asked Magneto, sounding the slightest bit uneasy.
"Not yet," explained Mystique, "But I feel that we cannot keep this a secret from her for too much longer. She's bound to find out sooner or later. Her faith in me currently is almost unquestionable since I 'promised' to give her revenge, but that faith could dwindle with time if I keep her from that promise of vengeance fro too long. It could ultimately end with her discovering we've been manipulating her the entire time."
Magneto was silent for a few moments, like he was considering what to say or how to respond. But when he spoke again, it was on an entirely different subject.
"By the way," Magneto continued, "How are your studies of the files you downloaded from Xavier's Cerebro mainframe computer system?"
"I've only scratched the surface of them," said Mystique, "The amount of information he had on that machine was tremendous. I need more time, which I am guessing we do not have much of."
There was more silence on the phone. "You are correct in that we are short on time, but no matter," said Magneto, "Right now we have more important things to deal with. Besides, the time to strike is not now. We have to take care of other matters first."
Mystique was somewhat surprised at how easy Magneto was going. The Master of Magnetism was infamous for his short temper, which he ruthlessly enforced with his awesome magnetic powers. "Rule through fear" was Magneto's philosophy of leading his team of mutant warriors. But it was also Mystique's as well, even if it wasn't as powerfully enforced as Magneto's was.
Before Mystique could ask a question of make a statement, Magneto spoke up again. "Come and meet me here in my base. There are some things that we must discuss and some people that you must meet."
"I'm on my way."
With that, Magneto hung up the phone.
Mystique placed the phone back on its stand. She then turned back to her computer and shut off the system. Once that was done, she got up and walked over to her door, which she then locked. All the Brotherhood knew not to barge into her room, but it never hurt to make certain that they didn't.
Mystique walked over to her window. Outside, she saw the big bright silver moon shining in the dark starry sky over Bayville, the trees and buildings casting long shadows. The night was vast, perfect for her to travel through without notice.
The shape-shifter opened the shutters, feeling a breeze of cool night air wash over her slim physique, which apparently was not that covered by clothing. She then stood back and stopped. Then she began to shrink. Her legs and arms grew shorter, her bright red hair and brilliant blue skin becoming a dark ink black, losing their smooth textures in the process and becoming feathery. Her feet remolded into what looked like claws, and her hands and fingers melted into her wrists as her face grew hard and pointed. Within a matter of seconds, Mystique had turned into a large black raven.
Mystique, in her bird form, flapped her wings and took to the air. Hovering off the floor, she glided through the open window and flew out into the night.
The ride back to the Valley mansion was accomplished in silence. Logan, Scott, Jean, Kurt, Kitty, Evan, and Rogue were driving onward along the streets and highways of Moonriver Falls towards Simon's house, Simon himself among them. And while the group had exchanged words and sentences here and there, Simon was silent most of the time. Being around him was giving all of them a very good opportunity to look into his face and green eyes, which, as everyone knew, was a window to the soul.
From most of the trip, Simon had been calm and straightforward, not saying too much, really not speaking unless spoken to. His face kept the same expression the whole time, which was kind of a combination of Scott and Logan's normal expressions: calmness, seriousness, and a no nonsense demeanor that said don't-think-I'm-an-idiot-because-I'm-not. As the others carefully observed him, they noticed he didn't smile the entire time, but he never frowned or scowled either, no signs of hostility or anger surfacing.
In addition, Scott and Logan were carefully looking into his eyes occasionally to see if they could make any assumptions. Scott had long realized that Simon was not like Duncan Matthews at all, as he had wondered about earlier. True the two shared a couple of similarities, blond hair and green eyes, but there, the resemblance ended. For one thing, there was the difference in facial structure and hairstyle. Simon had a narrower leaner face that Duncan, and a much, much fairer complexion, and unlike Duncan Matthews, who had slightly long and slightly brushed hair, Simon kept his hair shorter, severely styled, and neatly brushed. But the major differences that could be seen, or sensed, were in aura. Duncan Matthews always had an arrogant, flirting, over-confident, sly air to him, except when he was pissed off for some reason, and when he looked at another person, his eyes were always saying that Duncan was superior in more ways than one, regarding that person as weak and insignificant and always would be. But whenever Scott looked at Simon's eyes there was not the slightest hint of arrogance or overconfidence or extreme pride in what he was and what he could do, just an almost emotionless stare that portrayed a strong sense of serious self-containment. It was merely blank, neither judging a person nor comparing him or her to Simon himself, which probably meant that Simon didn't try to make those around him feel inferior just to boost his own self-esteem. Scott was not sure how to feel about that quality, but it was a big relief that this new mutant was not a mutant-version of his long-time football-playing rival. If anything, Simon had the same sort of look that Rogue had given the X-Men during the first days she had known them while serving the enemy side. But if he had any true hostility or anger towards the X-Men, he was doing a damn good job of hiding it.
Logan however was seeing Simon from his own personal point of view. What Logan remembered most about their first meeting with Simon back at the docks was when the kid had faced up to him with a fierce glare that was almost as intense as Logan's and hardly flinched when Logan gave his. Logan had seen a fair number of teens in his day, but he had rarely seen the type of anger that Simon had shown in the eyes of someone so young. Anger, bitterness, and frustration were the best emotion combination he could think of to describe the look in Simon during that moment. It was what Logan took as a sign that the blond teenager had experienced some pretty bad things, which evidently still affected him to a high degree.
Logan was no psychiatrist at all, but he remembered looks similar to that from many many years ago during World War II. As a solider in that time, Logan had rescued many people from the Nazi concentration camps in Poland. The looks the prisoners had were ones he didn't think he would ever forget. They were looks of seeing total inhumanity done, terror and destruction of innocent people just because they had blood considered to be dirty compared to blood of Hitler's Aryan race. Looks that displayed innocence cut away, normal emotion ripped out, and so much more.
Of course, far from being a victim of Nazi persecution, Simon was nowhere near looking like those people. His expression held a number of emotions, but innocence was not included. Most teens had innocence of some degree, but Simon Valley seemed to have a level that was even lower than most. It made Logan wonder just how it came to be that way. Logan had been through a lot that had robbed him of his innocence; one of those things was going through the arduous process that had bonded the adamantium alloy molecules to his bone cells, a process so painful and dangerous that only his uncanny healing ability had kept him alive. He was thinking of what Simon could have been through to make him lose his, that is, if he had lost it. There was also the chance that innocence was merely buried deep under that emotionless mask he wore. But there was still no way of knowing.
But currently, Logan was thinking more about other things rather that trying to make a hypothesis or what not about Simon's attitude and feelings. Logan himself was not one to really think over things. He was more of a fighter than a thinker, which was probably the most obvious feature of his personality other than his gruff-tough-and-hard-to-bluff personality. But seeing people in action in battle and seeing what they could and could not do was one of his secret talents.
Really strong stamina and fighting spirit was clearly evident in Simon, mostly from his strong attacks on them. However, it was also more than obvious that he really needed training to use his powers. The kid had missed his targets almost every time he had fired an energy beam of whatever type, he was too easily caught off guard by surprises, such as when Kurt had ported near him, and finally there was the use of the bladed weapons that they had discovered he could form out of himself. That last item on the list was something Logan realized he would have to teach Simon possibly. No one else at the institute had weapons like that in their arsenal of mutant powers other than Wolverine himself. But he knew how to use them, and skillfully. If Simon agreed to join the X-Men, Logan would be going through many hours of training with him so that he could use his weapon-molded arms and legs effectively. If he didn't, there was no point in Simon using that ability at all. Needless to say, there was a really need for many things in Simon's case, and training was only one of them.
But there was also the guidance of how to deal with inner thoughts and conflicts. Logan was suddenly curious as to what kind Simon had, but he merely put that thought aside. He didn't have to worry about it. Professor Xavier on the other hand, would have to. But at least, Logan himself wouldn't have to be guiding in that sense.
What Simon really wanted to do was to ask all the questions he had at the moment on this. There were so many things that he wanted to know. He wanted to know how they found him, how they knew his name, how they did those feats he had seen them do, how they knew what was the cause of his abilities, and so much more. But he said nothing, for he wasn't sure how or where to begin asking. And besides, he felt this was the wrong place and wrong time to ask, but he was impatient.
The frustration was the hardest part to live with. He felt helpless to deal with it because he knew of no way to deal with it. He had figured that he would have to wait until he met this "Professor X" who they said was their headmaster and teacher, as well as leader and advisor in so many things. It almost sounded as if the worshiped this Professor X. If he had helped them out as much as they said, Simon wouldn't have been surprised.
Try as he might, he just couldn't relax his muscles as much as he wanted to. Adrenaline and stimulating energy were still filling his muscles and nerves with what felt like enough "up" to recharge every flashlight battery in the state. So sitting still was the only thing he could do other than try to run it off, which was obviously out of the question.
Over and over during the trip, Simon found his gaze drifting over to the gothic girl who Scott had introduced as Rogue, who hardly spoke during the trip, much like he did. Simon wasn't quite sure how she got that name. He wasn't sure if it was simply a name given out for metaphorical reasons, a nickname due to loner-like activities, or a word that represented something he didn't know about yet. All the same, he thought it an interesting name. Not the type of name he'd expect for a guy to possess, but with a girl, it had a rather nice touch when combined with a feminine possessor.
In addition, Simon couldn't help but be intrigued by her. Even with her deep purple eye shadow and lipstick, she was quite attractive. Her shoulder-length auburn hair had seemed silky, and the white streak in it provided an extra touch. Her face was graceful, her neck long, and her figure shapely. And also, those sea green eyes Simon had looked into back when they first met, those were that really got his attention. Those eyes were deeper than anything he had seen in a person, as if they held a world of passion, and a world of hurt in some way. Almost like something lurked behind them, waiting for the chance to be let out. And maybe that was why Simon found her an interesting person. Her attractiveness was definitely one reason, but there was something more. But he couldn't figure out what it was.
Professor Xavier was currently working on laying out the basics of life at his institute, and so far, it was going fairly smoothly. Questions of all sorts came up as he discussed it with Nicholas and Hillary Valley on this offer of mutant training and life in the New York city of Bayville. Answering them was not original at all, but Xavier had to be careful on how he played this out. He always had to be certain to let the family of his recruits know what they wished to know without revealing too much of what secret aspects of the state-of-the-art technological features his seemingly normal mansion had. But he also was explaining certain aspects of his training mutants, which was other than their danger room training sessions and combat workouts.
"I also help mutants with their personal troubles," said the professor, "As well as helping them gain control of their powers."
"Why is that?" asked Hillary Valley, who was taking a specific interest in the psychological fields that Xavier spoke of, her career as a psychiatrist in full throttle. It wasn't just out of interest and curiosity, but also in that fact that she had tried many times before to help Simon with his inner conflicts. Perhaps Charles Xavier had a different approach to that sort of problem. And if he had this mental powers that he mentioned once in a while over the course of his explanations, that would provide an invaluable means indeed.
"Well, to put it as simply as I can," said Xavier, "Some of my students have had traumatic experiences at some time in their lives, some more than once and some more seriously than others. In fact, it is often such a traumatic experience that causes one's powers to manifest in the first place."
"What do you mean 'when it first manifests?'" asked Nicholas, who seemed to find that once particular piece of information intriguing.
"Perhaps I can answer that, Mr. Valley," said Xavier, "Did Simon ever give specific details of when if powers first appeared?"
Nicholas seemed a little confused by that question, for he hadn't expected Xavier to answer a question with a question. Nonetheless, he answered it, for he wanted all the information he could on this subject. "Well, it was over five years ago," he explained, "On a hiking trip down in the mountains of Oregon. He was simply hiking in the mountains on his one while Hillary and I were staying at our campsite. He said that at some point during his walk, he came across a young girl who was being harassed by some thugs. When he tired to tell them to let her go and they refused, he became angry and then, he simply reached out with his hands to give them a simple pointing to, and the next thing that happened, according to what he said, was that purple beams shot form his hands and struck the two thugs down."
"I see," said Xavier, "So he was angry at the time when those purple 'beams' as you said, were first discovered?"
"That's what he told us," said Hillary, "Other than the 'purple beams' the one thing he remembers most about that one moment is that he was feeling very angry, perhaps even furious."
Memories of the stories of powers first emerging in mutants were coming back to Xavier's thoughts as he listened to Nicholas Valley. Stories like that were different from each other in so many ways, but yet he never forgot the basic elements of powers. This had started four years ago, which meant Simon was fourteen years of age at the time, around the time of puberty, which was the most common time for powers to emerge for mutants. As the mutant's biology and physiology began the process of entering the teenage years that would lead up to adulthood in a decade's time, the dormant X-Gene in their system, would usually come out of its dormant state, causing its template to spread its effects and traits across the mutant's system.
And also, there was the part of anger as Simon's folks had described it as. Strong emotion, being fear, or anger, or total surprise, was another major trigger of powers in the developing mutant. This was like a lot of cases he'd seen and helped out with. Xavier was well aware of the circumstances that brought out the powers in young mutants, and this encounter with the thugs and girl had trigger anger and frustration, which were commonly known as emotional triggers for young mutants.
"I assume Simon was not happy after this experience," said Ororo.
Hillary shook her head. "No he wasn't in fact, he was completely overwhelmed," she explained, "He was furious that this strange thing had happened to him, and at the same time he was scared as well because he was afraid of harming others or destroying things. But he was most afraid of people finding out about him."
Xavier nodded. "Well, I can understand that," he said.
Just then, they heard the front door open, followed by the sound of footsteps on the carpeted floors of the mansion. Ororo and the two Valleys looked over the entrance of the living room as Xavier swerved his wheelchair around to face the visitors. A few seconds later, Scott, Jean and Logan came into the room, and they were accompanied by a tall blond boy whom Xavier instantly recognized as Simon from the data gathered by Cerebro. Kitty, Kurt, Rogue, and Evan came in last, and were close behind so that they were not left in the dust.
"Simon," Nicholas Valley greeted his son, "You're back from your walk."
For the first time since the X-Men had seen him, Simon smiled slightly at his father, probably as a greeting. "Yeah, Dad," he answered, "I meet some people while I was out." He motioned to the seven X-Men near him. Kitty smiled her little angel smile that she was famous for, while most of the others, such as Scott and Rogue turned up a corner of their mouths in response. Logan, ever the strong silent type, merely stood there and did nothing other than breath.
"I hope everything went all right," said Hillary.
Simon merely shrugged, "Nothing big," in a tone that suggested otherwise.
Hillary gave Simon a look that said 'you know something you're not telling.' "How did you get that scratch under your eye?" she asked, motioning to the same spot on her own face.
Simon brought his eyes up to look at his mother, but he remained expressionless as ever. Rogue had been trying for the past half hour to see if there was any sort of emotion playing in that face of his, but she had seen no hint of emotion at all as of yet. The exceptions were when they had first met Simon back at the docks for the first time, when he had gone from hostile to suspicious to angry to confused and finally to willing to listen to Xavier and what he had to offer at his institute. If was like Simon had spent years practicing to keep his face a total blank mask. Trying to read his emotions merely by looking at his face was like trying to read Japanese when the only language you could read was English.
"Just a slight accident, nothing more," Simon responded in his controlled, contained voice.
Ororo and Xavier had also noticed the slight scratch under Simon's eye, but they made no indication that they did. However, Xavier did notice Simon slightly shift his gaze toward Evan and wondered what it could possibly mean. He had a fair guess as to why, but he still wasn't entirely certain. He reached out to Logan with his telepathy, 'Logan, does that mark have something to do with Evan?'
Logan realized that Xavier was speaking to him via his mind powers, and responded by merely thinking his response. That was one of the advantages with being a telepath; you could speak out to a person in an entire room full of people without them hearing you. It would save you the trouble of waiting for that person to be free enough to listen in private spot. 'The porcupine went cowboy on us and did some wild shootin' with his arrows,' Logan thought back to Xavier, 'ol Simon here was caught up in it.'
That was all Xavier needed to hear. He made a mental note to give Evan a few pointers of that later on. But he had to put that aside for now. He had bigger things to deal with. Now came the biggest part yet. Making the offer of life at the institute to Simon himself.
Xavier looked at Simon and gave him a warm smile, the one he always used when trying to make a good impression on a potential new recruit. "Hello there, Simon," he greeted the boy, "It's nice to finally meet you."
Simon averted his gaze to Xavier. "You must be Mr. Xavier," he said.
Xavier nodded. "Yes, I am. And this," he motioned over to Storm, "is Ororo Munroe, who is an instructor at my institute. I take my students have told you about me."
Simon nodded as well, to signal his acknowledgement after he gave a greeting nod to Ororo. "They told me a lot about you on our way back here," he told the professor.
"Well, I hope it was nothing too much. Sometimes my students can be a little too forthcoming," said Xavier, trying to lighten the mood with a simple joke. Jean and Scott chuckled a bit at that, and Kitty giggled. Simon however, remained stoic.
"Your students told me that you came here with an offer," said Simon, addressing Xavier in a rather non-teenager manner, getting to the point and not beating around the bush.
"Yes," said Xavier, "I have come with an offer. One that both your family and I think could be of great benefit for you."
"But what offer is this? And why do you think I could benefit from it so much?"
Ororo took this a chance to play a good part of her involvement. "Well, Simon," she told him, "You may want to get a seat and get comfortable. There is a lot you must know about."
The meaning of those words was not lost to Simon, he could tell that when she said a lot; it probably meant a tremendous, gigantic amount of information. A lot was probably their way of sugar coating it for those who were totally unfamiliar with the information involved.
The X-Men and Logan all took seats on the sofas and chairs in the living room, much like they had done back when they arrived at the Valley mansion for the first timer earlier that night. Logan took a single seat, while Scott sat next to Jean of course and others sat together as friends. Simon took his seat in a lone armchair, which was his favorite seat in the house other than the comfortable desk chair in his room. Simon had never liked being in the center of attention for an entire audience, regardless of how big it was or who it was. But right now, it seemed like there was no way around that role. So he figured he might as well get comfortable and ride it out.
"I'm sure you've seen that my students had special 'abilities,' Simon," said Xavier, going on what he had sensed from Simon as he had entered. His strong telepathy had picked up strong and fresh memories of seeing his students use their powers from Simon, as well as Simon himself using his own. It seemed like maybe their first greeting had gotten off on the wrong foot. If that was so, he had to approach this carefully. There had been plenty of recruiting missions in the past that had started off rough and had ended well. With patience and carefully approaches, this one could too.
Realizing that Xavier had spoken about the exact same thing he was thinking at the moment, a somewhat surprised look fell over Simon's features. "I was thinking about exactly that. How did you know?"
"Well, each of us has a special talent. Mine is telepathy. I can read the thoughts of others, as well as project my own thoughts into the minds of others."
Simon tensed up, his muscles going rigid, as if by nervousness. "You-you weren't diving deep into my head just now were you?" he asked, sounding apprehensive.
Being the strongest psychic on the planet, Xavier could sense the fear and nervousness in Simon. There were varying levels of telepathy in the mutant world. Some had very limited forms, which could only be used through flesh-to-flesh contact to puck up thoughts on the surface of the conscious mind. Others had stronger forms, which they could dive deeper into the mind, from a distance. Xavier's was the strongest form of all. The ability to dive into the deepest recesses of the sub conscious from very far away. With telepathy as powerful as that, picking up emotions was something that happened regardless of whether you wanted to pick them up or not. As for stray thoughts and images, they were easily picked up as well if a person thought hard enough.
"No, Simon," assured Xavier, "It's just that sometimes when one thinks hard enough, they project thoughts unintentionally, just like you did just now. I wasn't reading your mind or anything lie that."
The tension in Simon's body started to leave it. He relaxed more. Xavier was wondering just why Simon was afraid of having someone read his mind. No one really liked someone looking into their thoughts uninvited, but he had sensed a strong sense of dread and fear in Simon with that. He made a mental note to try to find out more in the future.
"Well anyway," said Xavier, shifting the conversation, "Let's get back to the other subject. As I was saying, Simon, my students have special abilities."
"If by 'special' you mean shooting beams out their eyes, passing though walls like a ghost, shooting spikes from their bodies, and disappearing and reappearing, then yes, I think I can relate," said Simon, letting his gaze drift over the X-Men, "If that's not special I don't know what is."
Kitty and Kurt sort of giggled a bit at that comment. Even Scott and Jean smiled a little bit. By all their observations so far, that was probably the closest thing to a joke Simon had made for all the time they had seen him. It didn't exactly sound totally funny, and the reason probably was that it was not supposed to. But it was also a good sign, for it showed Simon had a least a light sense of humor in there despite his rigid character.
"Well," Xavier continued with his explanations, "I myself have a gift much like that, as does Ororo here, as well. And if I can assume correctly, you have discovered you have one too."
"You must be talking about those beams I can shoot out of myself and those shapes I can mold myself into," said Simon, trying hard to sound like he was capable of making connections in even the hardest to understand situation. He was feeling a little uneasy that this paralyzed man in the wheelchair knew so much about his secret, but yet the professor had a calming air to him that indicated that he meant well in every way and had no hostile intentions toward him.
"Yes, I was referring to that," said the professor, "And I'm sure that you've been wondering just how you are able to do such things, and how my students can as well."
"Yes, I have. Are you telling me you know why," said Simon.
"Indeed I do," said the professor, "The reason is---,"
Words of old were flowing out, but Xavier was never totally tired of saying them. He had practiced doing this for so long that it simply came natural to him, like breathing did for the ordinary person. To most others, it would be tiring to repeat the same story over and over again to so many people, but to Xavier, it was a matter of taking a needed step in the process of recruiting. He never really tired of the recruiting process, for it always present a chance for him to enlighten another mutant to his cause, helping him or her see the better way of coexistence with man other than being dominant of all Homo sapiens.
For the next fifteen minutes, Xavier told Simon all he had told his folks hours before. The X-gene, what it caused, the fact that anyone anywhere could get it even if his or her parents were non-mutant. Finally, Xavier was finished.
"Well, that's pretty strong stuff," Simon managed to get out, "But, how does it fit into this offer of yours?"
"I run an institute in Bayville, New York for gifted youngsters, youngsters who have unique talents and abilities, like you have. I teach mutants how to use their powers responsibly and for the right reasons, as well as helping them control their powers and finding all connections that they have with them. I was hoping to offer you a place at my institute. We can help you with your powers."
Simon stood up, something the others were not expecting him to do. He started to pace around the room. "What do you mean by help?" he asked, his voice sounding hopeful and also anxious at the same time.
Xavier didn't seem phased by Simon's question. The others decided that he was expecting Simon to ask a question like that. "What I mean by help is that we can help you control your powers, learn more about them. Learn to embrace and take control of them so that you can use them for the betterment of Mankind."
Simon paced back and forth as Xavier said these words, his own eyes never leaving Xavier's for more than a few seconds at a time. At the end of Xavier's last sentence, he stopped. "But Professor, you said that you HELP mutants with their powers. As I see it, help can mean a whole lot of things, including getting rid of the problem."
Ororo and Xavier exchanged glances, each of them looking confused by Simon's statement. The professor turned back to the blond-haired teenager. "I'm sorry, Simon, but I'm afraid I don't understand what you're trying to say."
Simon's shoulder slumped down in what the X-Men could only take as exasperation. "What I'm trying to say, Professor," said Simon, "is that I want to just get rid of this and go on with my life. Can you cure me?"
Cure. The word caught the X-Men by surprise. Scott and Jean looked startled, and even Logan himself seemed surprised by that. The Scott and the other teenage X-Men were suddenly wondering just how deeply things went for this new mutant. Twice in the same evening had he taken them by surprise. First he had called himself a "monster" back at the docks, which was a word they had never heard a mutant call him or herself before, and now, he had outright asked if he could be cured of his mutation, as if it was simply a bizarre case of the common cold. What was he thinking in that such a thing was possible?
After a few seconds, Xavier regained his composure. He didn't want to disappoint Simon in that he couldn't be "cured," for such a thing wasn't even possible. But then again, he couldn't lie to Simon either, for that wouldn't be fair. Xavier had always considered desiring the one thing that wasn't obtainable a common quality of the human soul, and apparently Simon seemed to justify that assumption. "Simon, try to understand," Xavier tired to calm and reassure him, "I can't 'cure' you as you put it. It simply isn't possible."
The words seemed to deflate Simon's hope. "What are you saying?"
"Mutation isn't an illness, Simon," explained the professor, "It's part of who you are. A naturally phenomena that was with you ever since you were born and it will be a part of you until the day you die. Me, Ororo, Logan, my students, it's a part of all of us. We've come to accept it so that we can move forward and grow along with our abilities, using them when we need to and when it helps others."
Simon's expression grew slightly harder. "But I don't want to be this way. I don't want to live out my life knowing I can shatter a wall just by looking at it or explode a building by touching it. It was hard enough as it was just being normal before these things started happening. I don't need these 'abilities' to deal with as well."
Scott didn't like where this was heading. Simon simply wasn't seeing the logic and truth, or wasn't choosing to. He'd known a few people who didn't want to accept the facts when they were hard to bear. There was once a time when he refused to accept the fact that he couldn't shut off his optic blasts due to the brain injury that had hindered his ability to do so. It had taken him a long time to overcome that. But he still didn't fully understand Simon's reasons. He could shut his powers on and off with ease, or so it appeared.
"Simon," the young leader cut in, "it isn't really so bad. We all used to think that way about our gifts. But that is what they are, gifts. The only reason that we thought they were curses before is because we didn't know how to use them."
"But what do you use them for, Scott?" asked Simon, his frustration growing by the minute, "You told me so yourself on our way here that you're trying to keep out of sight and out of mind from the public. So what do you use them for if you're trying to keep a low profile? You're not making sense."
Xavier could feel the frustration in Simon. He wanted to tell him everything, but there were details best left unsaid until mutants were comfortable at the institute. Had drawn several conclusions that Simon's powers could help turn the tide in a battle, but he had learned from experience that telling parents about battles was not the best thing to do at first. Maybe later on, but not in the first meeting. Maybe Scott and the others cold do some encouraging. After all, that was why he had brought them on this mission to being with.
Scott then responded, "Well, Simon, just think of this way. If you agree to come to the institute, we can help you with your powers."
"But the help I want is help to be normal," Simon protested.
"Simon," Jean cut in, "You're completely missing the point. You're asking to be 'cured' of something that isn't even a disease. The key to being helped with powers like ours is to know when to use them, how to use them, and make good use of them without interfering with public affairs or personal lives. And, of course, to fit in with all the other people out there who don't have powers. That's why we all went to the institute to begin with."
Simon turned his gaze to Jean, who was sitting right next to Scott. "But, Jean, if we're trying to keep a low profile, then why learn to control powers if we're trying to NOT use them in view of the public?"
"Because it's our responsibility," Jean answered, "and yours."
Simon froze as Jean said that. That one word, responsibility, was what affected Simon. Everyone could see it. It was as plain as the nose of his face.
Responsibility was a word Simon had never truly connected with his powers. He wasn't sure what words he would apply to them, but 'responsibility' was not one of them. He was struck speechless.
Xavier felt like he couldn't stay out of the conversation. "You really should listen to Jean, Simon," he told the young man, "What she's telling you is the truth."
Simon turned back to the professor. "So," he said softly, "What would happen if I did go to this institute?"
"Simon," said Xavier, "You're a mutant like we are. You have great, but untrained powers. And as a mutant with powers, you have a responsibility to the world, to mankind, to your family and friends, and to yourself, to learn how to take control of your powers and to use them for the benefit of the whole world. I know it may seem like a large burden to bear, but it's burden you don't have to carry alone. If you join us at the institute, we can teach how to control your powers and the right way to use them responsibly. The choice is yours, but I sincerely believe that it would be of great benefit to you if you came with us."
Everyone was silent after that. Xavier's words hung in the air like mist. So full of truth, so filled with wisdom, so deep and yet so simple. Simon took a look at all the faces staring at him, feeling out of place suddenly. He had to admit the professor was right, he did have responsibility, even if he denied it, it would always be there. If he wasn't careful, it would more than likely come back to haunt him one day. But what else was there that he hadn't thought of yet?
"Professor," Simon said finally, "Could me and my parents have a private talk, please?"
"Certainly."
With that, Simon and his parent left the room.
Once they were gone, Ororo spoke up. "That was very well said, Charles," she congratulated him on his speech.
"Your truly good vith vords," said Kurt.
"Thank you," said Xavier, "I just hope that he sees the truth in them."
"So you think he'll come with us?" asked Logan, "He sounded a little unsure of himself."
"Frankly, I think he needs all the he can get," said Kitty, "I was half-expecting him to just deny all he is, but even now, he sounds like he needs some enlightening."
"I can only hope," said Xavier, "The choice is his. We must keep that in mind. I can only hope he makes the right one."
Seven minutes later, Nicholas and Hillary Valley came back into the room, but Simon was not with them.
"Where's Simon?" asked Ororo.
Hillary answered her. "Simon is packing his things. He's decided to come to your institute."
With those words, smiles appeared for the first time on this mission.
Well, folks, Simon has decided to join the ranks! Meanwhile, something big is happening with Mystique and Magneto. What is it? Who is it? You' ll see in the next chapter! ALso, for thoseof you who are wondering what Simon looks like when he's armored up, that will be in the next chapter. You may be surprised by it! And of course, don't forget to review!
Special thanks to: Agent-G, Gulogirl, Aaron, angw, kryst, whylime, Nettlez, whylime, band20