Feral Compulsion
"Chapter Six"
Shortly after lunch started Logan was elated to be and also a tiny bit unsure about sitting with other people while eating. Having been following Jean for the last few days he directed Harry toward the table Jean sat at. Harry on the end, and himself on the corner.
Harry, not bothered by the other teenagers in the room staring at Logan and he as he hadn't been raised to notice normal social cues such as those, began eating the food Logan placed in front of him. He wasn't sure what it was, as he had never seen it before he couldn't help but play with it in his hand. The texture of this new food was amazing. It was soft and smooth and cold. Up until now, he had hot soup and crispy bread to eat. He didn't know what he ate for breakfast, but it sure tasted great and would look even better if it covered his body. He wanted to show everyone how proud he was about his pack bringing this food. He was just about to rub the cold mystery food on his chest when his forearm was swiftly grabbed by Logan.
"Harry. . ." Logan said admonishingly. "I have no clue what you're doing but you're making a mess." Grabbing a napkin near him he began wiping the pudding from Harry's hand and face. Completely baffled as to why he began crying while he did so, which pulled at his heart. What had happened? What had he missed? Confused as he was he went back to his food. Not noticing Harry now stuffing pieces and parts of his food in his shirt and various pockets whenever nobody was looking his way. The younger mutant still silently crying, Logan blissfully unaware of the reaction he'd caused.
ooooo
Contemplating how the afternoon had gone, Charles was just getting ready to call for Jean when there was a knock at his office door. He wasn't expecting anyone, and he also couldn't detect any surface thoughts to anyone this close so that had to mean it was Jean who was calling on him. "Come in." He commanded from his position by the open window.
Jean, and surprisingly Hank following behind; walked slowly into the room. Charles gestured to the couches on his right and turned himself so he was facing his two guests. "What can I help you with?" He asked questioningly, his hands clasped in his lap. He never was a fidgeter.
"Lunch was. . .-" Jean started only to swiftly be cut off by her couch partner.
"I think it would be wise if we had two pairs of hands on this, again. I concede my last statement." Hank started with a sigh. His two forefingers pinching the bridge of his nose.
Charles couldn't help himself from releasing a small laugh. "I'm glad we share the same stress then, my friends. It shall help us weather through these turbulent times."
"I don't for one-minute regret that they've been rescued," Hank said somberly. "It's morbid to think, both of them were only there because they were carriers of the X-gene, and that was the exact thing that kept them alive."
"Barely!" Jean protested.
Charles steepled his pointer fingers together, humming in agreement.
"You had them in here before lunch, right Charles? How did that go?" Hank asked.
"Yea, because we all know what a flop lunch was," Jean added quickly and off-handedly, speaking of the two ferals who were now supposed to be in their room resting.
"I'd acquire that they both have pretty firm cases of PTSD. Even from the behavior, I've seen today alone. I can't begin to fathom how hard this must be and will be for the pair. Directioning towards their projected surface thoughts, earlier in my office; Logan was understandably worried for Harry, and himself. He's decided to put his search for Sabertooth off for the betterment of Harry." Charles said.
"What do you mean 'search for Sabertooth'?" Hank asked in alarm. "That's a slippery slope. He doesn't want to join him does he?" He added in fear. They didn't really know the extent of the older feral's mutations other than his killer healing factor.
"On the contrary," Charles began. "He thinks it's his duty, and his alone to kill him."
"Jeez," Jean deadpanned. "Wonder what wrong Sabertooth did to Logan to earn that distinction. One man can't take out the worst mutant in X-Gene history. Sabertooth is the equivalent of the X-Gene's World War 2 Supremacists, we all know that. How does Logan think he can stop him?"
"I'm unsure. However, I have picked up Logan's hazy thought pattern a time or three before. If I recall, he was near Liberty Isle as well as Lake Alkali. I've not come across someone with the same 'frequency' to their mind before. So, I'm sure it was him. It's as if his mind darts from here to there. For you, Jean, he'd probably slip straight through your grasp."
"I wonder why he never interfered with the events that transpired," Jean mumbled.
"Your guess is as good as mine," Charles said in contemplation as he addressed his peers.
"Something else to wonder about is Harry's reaction with the food. Logan seemed to be bluntly unaware of this. Aren't they supposed to...You know, be doing the dirty with each other?" Jean asked uncomfortably.
Charles smiled at his younger co-worker, nee student's words. "Ah, Jean. How you have yet to be in a relationship such as married life. It does come with different obstacles."
Jean couldn't help the blush that rose around her neck and cheeks as she was admonished by her old professor. "I do know that, Professor." She said.
"Frankly," Hank started. "I have no clue as to why the child would need to pocket food when in the company of others, but has no problem with his hands when on his own. That is a complete mystery to me."
"That, I'm sure, doesn't speak of a mutation; my friend," Charles stated matter-of-factly. "But fully of mental health, I'm afraid."
"Is there something you know?" Hank asked in question.
"No," Charles started. "I just have a knowledge of Humans and their minds. . ." He said, trailing off slowly at the end.
Hank kept his gaze on his long time colleague for a second before glancing towards the colleague he once considered a student then back. "Charles...Come on. I know you're hiding something."
The two on the far side of the room watched as a war of emotions they'd never seen fought behind their leader's bright blue eyes. Hank had always had a feeling that Charles was hiding something related to mutant kind. Something he wasn't willing to share but would change everything. Why he didn't share it was beyond his comprehension. Could Charles be keeping something vital for his own gain?
"It's a long. . ." Charles began slowly and softly. So softly Hank had to strain to hear him. Clearing his throat Charles started over. "It's a long story. There is only one person alive today who knows where I came from to who I am today after it's all been said and done."
"What does that mean?" Jean asked quizzically.
"Have either of you heard of a school named Hogwarts School for the Gifted Youth?" Charles asked.
"Charles! You've got to be joking. Nobody has seen or heard of anyone who's been or graduated from Hogwarts. It's like the Ivy League of Mutant schooling." Hank exclaimed shocked.
"On the contrary. My grandfather is the Headmaster of the school. Has been since 1964, and I attended 1943 to 1949. How do you think I managed to make this school functional? Albus Dumbledore isn't just known for his teaching!" Charles stated with a smile.
"Wait, you're saying your grandfather is Albus Dumbledore?!" Hank asked in surprise. Nearly standing from his seat at the revelation.
"Yes. He is. He also helped me build Cerebro, and fine-tune the energy around the school to prevent it from being seen from above as anything other than inconspicuous.
"Why'd you want to teach like him?" Jean asked finally. After staying silent the entire conversation she couldn't help but think that one thing. Charles Xavier was known as a physics analyst for Harvard before he started the Mansion for them. Their sanctuary. Their safe place. She could never repay him, and she wanted to know why he did it. What drove him to do it. Because without that she wouldn't be where she is today.
Charles turned to glance at the clock on the wall then the children who were throwing frisbees out on the yard. "One by one my family was being eliminated. Taken from me in some form." Charles said with glossy eyes. He'd cried long and hard about his family and he had made the fountain on the front of the drive a memorial to both his daughter and grandson. Lillian Harrison Fountain it was enameled.
"My daughter, Lillian, was murdered with her husband, James, by a British mutant hating extremest I shall not utter the name of. Somehow when he went to kill my grandson, Harry, he was the one to die, and Harry was the sole survivor of that horrid night.
"A few years later Harry disappeared. He's been declared dead by now. It's been 34 years since anyone's known his location. I wanted to do something that would make them proud. Something that would benefit them if they'd been able to have been saved."
"Oh, Charles-" Jean said, herself almost in tears.
"You're a pureblood then, I take it?" Hank said conversely
"Yes. James and Harry were too, but Lily was a Half-blood."
". . .And do you believe in the opinion of Mutations being a dominant gene?" Hank asked smartly
"You're very well versed in this occult topic, Hank. I have to wonder where you got your information, but yes. I do. When two x-gene carriers have a child, that child has a chance to inherit one of their abilities or both. But when a one x-gene carrier has a child with a none x-gene carrier that child will 100% carry that x-gene ability of that parent. There are also Muggle Born abilities. Or Nomaj as it's said here in the USA. That is when there is an x-gene carrier when no parents have an x-gene. That is my guess is when the human gene first mutates to the x-gene and creates that family's first mutation based on their needs and tribulations."
"So Lily would have been a telepath?" Jean asked
"Yes, she was," Charles answered. "You remind me a lot of her, Jean." He added with a tight smile.
"What about James?" Jean probed. "We've all heard of Albus. He's a renowned Telepath, which makes sense now that you mention it. I've even heard he's the only one Sabertooth is afraid of!"
Smiling a genuine smile, Charles began answering his former student's questions. Revealing in the child-like nature of his friend. He didn't know why, but he loved teaching and was so grateful for how life turned out.
"James' family was known for their genetics to have ferals. His mother was a beta feline. James was wilder than his mother. More like a mountain lion than a house cat, and his hair sure did show it too! Good Lord, I can't believe I just said that." Charles stated as he blushed. Not knowing if he'd been nervous about stating his son in law's mother was like a house cat or the same son in law's hair was wild.
"So that's what you meant by 'knowing the human mind.'" Hank stated. "Albus must have helped you with that."
"Yes, he did," Charles answered. "Albus isn't just a telepath, he's a closet transfiguration master. His transfiguration ability mutated into my ability to control the mind and thus the body. That is what can happen when you have an arranged marriage with the same x-genes for selective breeding. Albus is also a little crazy."
"Charles, wait!" Jean exclaimed standing from her seat on the far couch. "Harry is a submissive feral right?! What are the chances he's not your grandson?" Jean asked sharply.
"Jean, he's way too young. Harry would be 40 years old by now. The Harry that's resting upstairs is possibly 16. We'll find out for sure if they decide to enroll him for classes.
"Oh. . ." Jean stated as she sat again.
