Chapter 4: A Crowded Tiny House
As Que ran to the lighthouse, sand started whirling about. It stung as it hit her face and flannel bandaged arm. She was going to make it. Just to the generator was all she needed to let off a little steam. She didn't care if she blew the fuse. That could be fixed, exposure could not. Unfortunately, she miscalculated. She was trudging through the sand, not ten yards away when it hit. The violent energy could not be contained any longer. Like before, the tremors resumed and a bolt of energy rippled agonizingly through her body. It shot larger than before into the sky with a defining crack and lasted several seconds. When the beam of white hot energy faded, Que collapsed unconscious onto the sand.
The black Mercedes-Benz pulled up to the cottage quickly, just as the beam faded from the sky. In the sand a few yards away, lay the girl from the diner. Ororo ran over to the unconscious girl and brought her back to the catwalk by the cottage.
Once she helped Charles into his chair on the dock, they started toward the cabin with Que in tow. The keys were latched to her backpack for easy access in her hurry home, and the pair found the correct one quickly. It was nicely labeled with a lighthouse keychain.
When they entered, Charles and Ororo were a bit surprised at what they saw. The kitchen and all was very common place, but the advanced blueprints and electronics by the desk were quite impressive.
They didn't have time to be impressed though. The Professor rolled toward the back hall and into a bedroom.
"Help me put her on the bed, and then see if you can find a first aid kit, a bowl for some warm water, and some clean linens," Charles instructed Ororo.
While the white haired woman searched, Charles check the young girl's pulse and wound. The cut from the mug was not too deep, but it would definitely need a few stitches. Otherwise, the girl just seemed mentally expended and would probably be up in a couple hours at most.
Storm, once you find supplies, would you please bring about a small thundershower? We wouldn't want to cause panic in the town. Best make it seem like just some lightning.
Storm received the Professors message and immediately went to multitasking. Small thunderstorms were fairly easy. When she got back to the room, there was a nice shower coming down over the town and the Professor went to work cleaning and patching up the cut on the girl's forearm.
Once finished, the pair of adults took turns meandering about the house, not that there was much to explore. It seemed the child in the bedroom lived by herself. "A run away perhaps?" Charles mused as he settled himself with one of the books from the shelf in the bedroom, while Ororo went to check on her storm.
When Que started to wake up, she felt like her brain had blown a fuse. She was very disoriented, but when she finally started to recall what had occured, she grew more concerned. The last thing she remembered was collapsing in the sand. Outside. She wasn't outside anymore. Que's eyes flew open and she bolted upright.
"Hey, it's okay. You are safe. We are not going to hurt you."
It was the male voice from the diner, but what she was hearing was not by her ears. She realized it was inside her mind! She then notice the male silhouette on the other side of the room, and proceeded to tumble onto the floor from across her bed. Her arm flared with a tearing sensation. Swearing under her breath, Que tried to ignore the pain and get her bearings.
"Que you have nothing to fear. We just want to help," the man repeated gently, out loud this time
"How do you know my name? Who sent you? Who is we?" Que said defiantly as a breeze picked up in the room. She searched for her best possible exit. The man was in a wheelchair, so she liked her odds of getting away. However, she did not like the unknown variable that was 'we'.
"I understand this must be very confusing. My name is Charles Xavier and my friend, who is just outside, is Ororo Monroe. We are like you. We have gifts. No one has sent us. I promise we will tell you everything, but if you could, please come back around and have a seat. I think you may have torn your stitches," he was speaking out loud now.
Just then, a white haired woman appeared in the doorway. At first her eyes cloudy white, then fading to what Que assumed to be their normal color.
"Ah, Ororo come in. We have some explaining to do," Charles said to the woman.
"Of course," Ororo replied pulling up a chair next to Charles.
Slowly, Que came around and perched on the edge of her bed in front of Charles. Her arm was really hurting, and when she looked down she surprisingly discovered it was wrapped neatly in clean, white gauze. However, there were some spots of blood starting to appear, staining through the bandage.
Charles pulled out a first aid kit, Que assumed was from her bathroom. He removed the bandage and recleaned the cut while recounting his story.
"We came here looking for you actually. I am a telepath you see, and I have a machine that allows me to connect with other mutants around the world. We specifically picked you up a few days ago. It seems you have been having some trouble with you gifts. Yes?" He glanced up catching her with a reassuring smile and knowing look in his blue eyes.
Que shifted uncomfortably, gave a slight nodded, but sat silently as he continued.
"My goal, well our goal, is to help young people, such as yourself, learn to control your gifts, and as such, become a more productive member of society. We are from Westchester, New York where I have started a school for the gifted." Charles said.
He started to restitch Que's arm. She winced ever so slightly at the sharp jabs.
"Sorry," he said apologetically before continuing. "Ororo was once my student there as well, and is now assisting myself and the other teachers train the next generation of young mutants, as we like to call ourselves." Charles paused and waited for the still silent girl to respond.
Que did not speak. How could she? Could she trust these people? They came out of nowhere claiming they wanted to help. She had heard that before, and it ended badly. She glanced at the woman in the chair.
"What do you do?" It was somewhat of rude question that one might ask of a circus act, but Que had to test these people.
"I can control and bring about different types of weather." Ororo replied coolly.
Hmm, she had an accent. North African perhaps? Que thought.
"I created a small storm just after you fell unconscious. The Professor thought it would help with any suspicions in town," the woman continued.
Que snapped out of her interrogation mode and immediately felt the overwhelming despair and shame consumer her.
The town! The diner and the other kids! Que moved her arm away from the Professor as he finished tying the stitches and put her head in her hands. How was she going to fix what she had done in town?
The Professor put a hand on her arm.
"It's alright. We took care of things there as well. All of your friends are fine," he said quietly.
She glanced up at him a little confused, but quickly settle on the easier route.
"Thank you," she said sincerely. She actually did feel quite grateful and gave them a small quick smile before letting her guarded gaze overcome her face again. "I would however appreciate you not reading my mind."
"We want to help you Que, and I make it a policy to not invade other people's privacy unless forced. Some thoughts when connected with heightened emotions are difficult to block out when I am in close contact. However, I did not have to read your mind to tell what you were thinking." The Professor paused giving Que a very serious look before continuing. "We would like to offer you a place at our school, so that you will have a safe place to learn to control your powers. There are others there with a variety of talents who are learning to do the same thing."
"You saw what happened in the diner and the accident outside. I am dangerous! You don't want me at your school! I could hurt or... or even kill someone if... if I…" Que trailed off.
"That is exactly why we want you to come. To help you learn control, so that won't happen anymore. We have all been there. Not knowing what to do or where to go. Terrified about what our actions could cost us and others." It was Ororo who had fervently spoken up this time. This was the most she had spoken since Que had woken up, and the passion and intensity with which she spoke was almost palpable.
The three sat in silence for several moments, during which Charles could feel the indecision, fear, and a faint sense of hope waring inside Que.
Then Que spoke.
"When do we leave?"