This is a translation of the pilot of one of my longest finished German fanfiction series. I am not a native speaker and apologize for any mistakes. While the "Weathered"-series focus on Scott and his lover and on Jean and Logan as a couple, there's lots of other important characters and plot lines coming into play, one of the biggest being the Dark Phoenix saga Hollywood messed up two times in a row.

"Feeling thunder" is set in the spring of 2000, shortly before, during, and after the events of the movie 'X-Men'.

Comments are more than welcome. I'm thirsting for them like so many others.

Alas! Congratulations, if you clicked this, then you have discovered a dinosaur. An 80's child with an unbreakable love for old superhero cartoons, I have been a passionate fan of the first two X-Men movies back in the day. Around 15 years ago, I wrote this series which contains 12 parts in the German language at this point. 'The last stand' and everything official following then turned me away from whatever Hollywood might come up with for that verse. Recently, I have decided to update this series (still ignoring everything official that happened in the meantime, except for a couple of the actors for faceclaims), and write a second series to conclude this verse. I'll also work on translating series 1 into English while I work on the original which is how you ended up with this pilot. In these two fanfiction series, you will find many Marvel comic- und cartoon elements and characters that I love, the first two X-Men movies build the canon though (with slight alterations with regard to ships). There's also a lot of photoshop messing around and a couple of videos existing for these fanfiction series. If you want to know more about it and do not shy away from spoilers, you can find the link of my graphic lair in my profile.

February of 2000

It was usually either the almost inaudible hum from the electric motor of his wheelchair, or the equally inconspicuous warm touch in her head from another telepath soul nestled up against hers without forcing entry, that let Jean know soon enough whenever a certain visitor approached her laboratory, unfazed by even the most ungodly hours whenever they felt she needed support.

Today, she'd hopefully be able to rid her mentor of his exaggerated concern with a fleeting but sincere smile. For a change, it was mundane preparations for an important appointment that kept her awake, none of the bad nightmares that occasionally troubled her.

"Two fifty-nine. A.m."

"I didn't even ask." Amused, Charles scooted closer to her desk.

"You last had to when I was ten." But he was right with his silent admonition nonetheless, of course.

After a final amendment of the opening, Jean dropped her pen and stretched her tense neck with a small grimace. "I'm almost done. Just the clean copy, then we're good to go for tomorrow."

"We have been for weeks. You worry far too much. This isn't your first speech in Congress, Jean." Charles reached across the desk and briefly took her hand. "It won't have to be your last, either. Political power plays aren't worth neglecting your real duties for. And raccoon eyes aren't a good look on high-resolution footage anyway."

Why did this man have to be right so disgustingly often? "I'll have Ororo make the kids write a test in the morning; then I can stay in bed longer. I've got everything under control, Professor, don't worry."

"Do you?" Charles asked gently. "That's why you're using this PC instead of the one in your apartment?"

Jean could immediately feel her own expression turn blank. As much as she appreciated Xavier, certain things belonged behind the closed doors of that very apartment.

"Ten minutes. There's no way I'll be able to read my own handwriting tomorrow. Then I'll be out of here. Come on, go. You need your sleep as well."

"It's been a while since I've been getting a lot of it, just like you, as you know." Charles' lips thinned, becoming a barely visible line. "The skies are getting restless. By now, we've both felt it often enough. In times like these, it's important not to make life even more difficult for yourself."

"Two grande sized at Starbucks and an energy drink for breakfast usually do the trick." As if she didn't know exactly what her mentor really meant, Jean turned back to her monitor. "Good night, Professor."

When he was already halfway gone, the characteristic buzz of the chair stopped once more, almost drowned out by the much louder whir of the servers and energy plants in the basement. But Charles didn't look back any more than Jean turned her gaze his way again. In such moments of fear for the future, perhaps neither of them wanted to know what was written in the other's eyes.

"There are some things that should never be taken too much for granted, if they are not to collapse in on themselves at the wrong moment like a rotten building, Jean."

"Like what?" Done with all of those little constructive implications, Jean transported her empty Coke bottle toward the trash can with a too-frantic invisible motion, startling more than she should when it shattered in the metal basket with a loud splinter. An hour or two of rest more tonight really wasn't a bad idea, probably. Hopefully, she would at least not keep on reacting so irritably then when one of her oldest advisors tried to stand by her.

Charles didn't comment on this little loss of control either, but his exhausted posture had sagged another tiny bit. If this speech would come to naught, if politics possibly got away with this whole Registration madness ... Then in the conflict that would inevitably follow, it would be more important than ever that everyone in here was in control of their powers. Charles and Jean had all but buried the hope that it could never come to that long ago, no matter how much they still tried to cling to it.

"Peace."