I have been remiss. *Jen hangs her head in shame* I've neglected to thank my dedicated betas, eternalsailorsolarwind and Julie. As I'm sure I've told you two ladies a million times by now, you rock! : )
Chapter 3
Over the following weeks, Jean gradually adjusted to her new home and her new family. Days were divided into training sessions: telepathy with the Professor, academics with Dr. McCoy, strengthening with Logan, and meditation with Ororo. She'd always been smart, so her courses with Dr. McCoy caused her no trouble; she looked forward to her time with Ororo, finding it relaxing to sit and think of nothing but breathing. The sessions with the Professor and Logan, however, were another story all together.
Charles had effectively built a wall around Jean's mind, keeping her telepathy constrained. Xavier's plan was to work with Jean to improve her control, and as her mental shields grew stronger, he would gradually weaken the barriers to test her. So far, they had yet to make any progress. Controlling her telepathy was more difficult than anything Jean had ever before tried to do; she found it exhausting, and she usually left the Professor's study frustrated and angry, and with a migraine that would force her to take refuge in the dark and quiet of her bedroom for hours.
Training with Logan was little better. Still weak from two years of immobility, Jean's stamina was non-existent and she needed to take frequent breaks. Her body's inability to do as she ordered frustrated her, often to the point of tears.
Logan was surprisingly patient with her, giving her the time she needed to recuperate between exercises, lest she injure herself. She worked herself hard, though, and she was slowly regained her strength. Already she had begun to fill out, rebuilding the muscle mass she'd lost; she no longer looked as fragile as the day she'd arrived at the Institute. Logan beamed proudly when, after just three weeks, Jean was able to make it through an entire session with only a single break.
When not training, Jean spent most of her time in reading. She could usually be found outside under her favorite ancient oak tree, or on the dock down at the lake, where she would let her feet dangle over the edge just above the water. Only when the weather or time of day forced her indoors would she retreat to quiet of the cavernous library – alone.
*****
"All right, Jean. Close your eyes, and visualize a wall around your mind," Professor Xavier instructed, his voice calm and gentle. "Now, I'm going to remove a single stone from the wall, allowing your telepathy to seep through. Concentrate on your shields; concentrate on keeping everyone else out of your mind." When he felt she was ready, he lessened his control on her mental shield.
Jean gasped as the voices flooded over her. She concentrated, as she'd been instructed, as she'd been practicing, but the voices didn't fade. They were flying at her from all parts of the mansion. ThankthegoddessforsuchabeautifuldaygoddamnleafslostagainIneedabeerhowfascinatingnottheresultsiexpected.
Jean whimpered, eyes clenched shut and hands gripping her head as she fought to push them out. Very, very faintly she could hear another voice: whyisshestillhearingeveryonesheshouldn'tbehearingthemwiththelevelofshieldingstillinplace.
Finally the voices were gone, as Xavier reinforced the shield. His concern was obvious.
"I'm trying, I just can't do it," Jean told him once she'd recovered. Her voice was quiet, and she stared at the dark rich wood of the Professor's desk rather than at the man himself. "I'm sorry."
"Jean, I know you're trying – there's nothing to be sorry for," he reassured her, smiling at the young girl sitting across from him, even though she refused to look up to see it.
"I'm sorry that I'm not doing better," she elaborated. "I just can't block people out when you take away even the tiniest piece of my shields. Even with your own shields, I can still hear you – only a bit, like a really quiet whisper, but I can still hear it." Her brows knit in frustration and she glanced up. "Why can't I do it?"
"It's a difficult process," he told her simply. "It may take years for you to develop fully effective mental shields."
Her eyes widened. "Years?" she repeated. "Is that how long it took you?"
Charles paused, considering his answer. "No," he admitted finally. "I have a natural ability to shield out the thoughts of others. I had to learn how to enter others minds, not how to keep them out."
"Oh," Jean said, looking back down at the desk. Her body language clearly radiated defeat.
"Jean, you have to remember that every mutation manifests itself in unique ways. While you and I share telepathy as our mutation, our telepathy can and does work in different ways. Neither one is right or wrong, that's simply the way we are."
She nodded silently, but Charles could tell that she didn't believe him. He sighed and regarded her with concern. At the age of 10, Jean was already dealing with more responsibility than most people would experience in a lifetime. It weighed heavily on her tiny shoulders. Charles knew that she still felt much guilt over her friend Annie's death, the death that caused Jean's telepathy to explode. He also knew that Jean was feeling abandoned by her parents, a rejection that caused her to be deeply ashamed of her mutation. While the staff had been doing their best to make Jean feel accepted, it simply wasn't enough – he suspected she was struggling with bouts of depression that she tried to conceal from the others, but he hesitated to invade the privacy of her mind to confirm this.
"I think we've done enough for today, Jean. Go and relax for a while before dinner," he told her kindly. Again she nodded silently, and slid out of the big leather chair.
Charles watched her go, feet scuffing on the carpet, head hanging and eyes on the ground. His heart ached for the girl, but there was only so much her could do for her for now.
Logan strode through the door, startling Jean as she'd been reaching for the knob.
"Heya, Jeannie," he grinned at her, ruffling her hair. She rewarded him with a small smile. "Ya done fer the day?" She nodded and kept walking; Logan frowned. "Hey, kid," he called after her. She paused, turning to look at him. "You ok?" Once again, she nodded in silence and continued on her way. Logan watched her until she disappeared around the corner, then shook his head and closed the door behind him, entering Charles' study. The look on the Professor's face mirrored that on his own.
"Y're worried about her," Logan stated, dropping into the chair that Jean had just vacated.
Charles regarded Logan steadily for a long moment. "As are you," he observed with a slight smile.
"Course I am," Logan replied, the closest Charles had ever heard him to sounding indignant. "So what's goin' on? Why isn't she getting any better at controlling her telepathy?"
Sighing, Xavier mulled that over for a long moment. "She's very sensitive," he explained. "More sensitive than she should be. The only way she can keep out other people's thoughts is if I completely block her telepathy; otherwise she has no defense."
"I thought that's what ya were tryin' to teach her."
"I am trying to teach her to shield. She seems to be incapable of it at this point; her powers are simply to strong. She can even detect traces of my own thoughts when I relax her shields. No one should be able to hear me through my own shields."
"So what're ya gonna do?"
"I don't know," Charles admitted, folding his hands on his desk. "I've been wondering if I shouldn't just keep her telepathy confined until she seems more able to control it."
"How long d'ya think that'll take?"
"I simply don't know," Charles said sadly.
*****
After dinner that night, Jean nervously entered Xavier's study, wondering what she could have done that required an additional meeting. Unless...maybe he was sending her home. Maybe she'd been doing so poorly that Professor Xavier was giving up and sending her home! The thought suddenly terrified her. If the Institute didn't want her, and her parents didn't want her, where would she go?
Charles smiled warmly at her as she crept cautiously into the room. "Come now, Jean, there's no reason to be afraid."
She approached his desk and sat in her customary chair, not meeting his gaze.
"Please don't send me away," she pleaded softly.
Charles blinked in surprise.
"I promise I'll work harder," she continued, speaking quickly to get the words out before she lost her courage. "I'll learn to build really, really strong shields, I promise. I'll do anything you want me to do, and I'll do everything right. I'm sorry I haven't been good enough at anything anyone's tried to teach me – I'll learn to do it all perfectly, I promise. Just please don't send me away."
"Jean, stop, please," Charles interrupted. "Whatever gave you the impression I was going to send you away?"
"I just thought....I thought maybe you were mad that I wasn't getting any better," she admitted softly, dropping her gaze once more.
"Jean," he admonished gently, silently demanding she look up at him. When she raised her head, he smiled. "I'm not angry and I would never dream of sending you away."
She waited in silence for him to continue, fear still shining in her eyes.
"I simply think it would be best if you concentrated on your other training for a while," Charles told her. Her confusion was obvious. "You need to regain your strength, physically, emotionally, and mentally, before you can make any progress. Once you're stronger, we can start working on your shields again. In the meantime, I will simply reinforce the shields I've built in your mind, and your telepathy will be blocked as long as we need it to be."
Jean's relief was palpable. Impulsively, she jumped to her feet and ran around the desk, throwing her arms around Xavier's neck. His arms came around her and he hugged her back.
"Thank you," she murmured into his shoulder.
Her unspoken words were even louder to Charles, though he knew she didn't mean for him to hear them, and she nearly broke his heart: Thank you for not giving up on me. I'll be the most perfect student you could ever hope for, and you'll never want to send me away. I'll make you proud of me, and you'll be glad you kept me here. I'll never mess up again, I promise!
~~
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