Disclaimer: I do not own the X-men, namely Kurt, Kitty, Tabitha, Amara, Xavier, Magneto, Scott, Rogue, Gambit, Wolverine, X23, or Alex Summers (ect, ect...) but I own all of my original characters. I also don't own Steel Magnolias...

Episode 2: To Pay Respects

It was dark that night, and cold as I recall, for I clearly remember having to wear a coat over my shoulders. I believe it may have belonged to Erik, who had accompanied me on this fairly important mission. A mutant girl had finally appeared on our scans. We had been working on Cerebro for almost a year, and Erik had nearly given up in searching for promising young people. One morning, I found her: Ariana.

Ariana was a special girl, even for mutant standards. Her powers were not only dangerous but uncontrollable as well, and she frequently hurt family and friends by mistake. The first day we met her she had harmed her older brother over a dispute about a jar of cookies. Erik saw promise in her. I saw someone who needed our help.

She was young, and frightened, very small for her age and quite pretty already. She had delicate features that disguised her extreme abilities. Erik and I had several arguments about what to do with the girl. Keeping her in confinement seemed to be the most logical option, though it seemed wrong to do that to someone so young and new to the world. Erik argued that we could use her power to further our goals, but I strongly disagreed. We finally decided isolation until control was obtained was our best plan.

The night we went to retrieve her is one of the most shameful and terrible memories I hold in my possession. I have never done anything so revolting before or since, or so I hope. We tracked her down, captured her, locked her away. She has been hidden away in my school's infirmary ever since that day.

Years of attempted control lessons did not work. Years of explaining did not calm her. She grew angrier by the day, more powerful by the minute. Erik agreed she should be put away for a time when he realized even he, the Master of Magnetism, could not hold her. There she lies, in as comfortable a bed as I could provide, with the best medical help I could buy, and still she sleeps.

I fear she may be waking up.

...

The Professor looked up from his journal, startled. Kurt walked in, holding the door open with his tail, and set a large box on the chair across from the desk. "I got everything I could find," he said. "Scott's stuff."

"Is this really everything?" Xavier said wearily, feeling the weight return to his shoulders and chest. Scott was dead. His Scott was dead.

"Even the stuff I scrounged up in the basement," he said. "Old school stuff, wedding pictures..." He reached into the box and pulled out a handful of worn-out ruby quartz sunglasses. "A ton of these."

"Give one to me," he said, holding out an old, shaky hand. He accepted the pair that Kurt placed in his palm and set it carefully on the corner of his desk. I will miss you, he thought, Scott Summers.

"Jean's taking it okay, as far as I can tell," Kurt said sadly, settling into a chair. "Rogue won't come out of her room, Gambit's been standing at her door all week now. The funeral promises to have a pretty big turn-out."

"Tonight," Xavier said. "Will you be there?"

"Of course," Kurt replied, voice cracking only a little. "What kind of best friend would I be if I wasn't there? Kitty won't have Karl with a babysitter, so we have to bring him along."

"Have you spoken to John yet?"

Kurt flinched. "Johnny... didn't take all of this so well."

There was a short burst of wind around the room, and the pair of ruby quartz glasses in Kurt's hand was gone. Kurt stared at his empty palm sadly. "He's not taking it well at all."

...

Johnny fell back onto his bed, bouncing a bit before settling down. He held the glasses above his face, looking through them. "So this is what the world was like for you," he said to himself quietly. He put the glasses on and sat up, pushing his hair back with a single shaking hand. Fifteen and no father. He shook his head. His father was supposed to see him lead Beta Team again.

But wait, he thought suddenly. I was teammates with Ben and Eevee once. He had remembered bits and pieces of the training sessions with them.

"Now isn't the time," He said, standing. He had to get a suit on. He opened his closet and looked at the black suit his mother had gotten for him. Lifting one sleeve mournfully, he stuck out his tongue. "What would dad wear? Not a stupid suit like this."

His eyes flickered to the back corner of the closet, where his uniform was. He had shoved it back there the night his father had died. He had sworn never to wear it again. He pulled it out and looked it over, pulling a piece of lint off of it thoughtfully. "This," he said. "Dad would wear this."

...

Jean jumped as the knock sounded through the Summers living room. Getting up from the couch covered in used tissues, she pulled her robe closer to herself and crossed the room, opening the door. "Hello?" she sounded terrible even to herself.

"Yo," Tabitha Smith let herself in, walking past Jean, followed by Amara. "No one here, right?"

"Just Rachel," Jean said, sitting back down. "You caught me at a pretty bad time."

"We just wanted to see if you were okay," Amara found a place to sit after moving a few photo albums.

"Do I look okay?" Jean said, annoyed as she blew her nose again. Tabitha folded her arms.

"I called Kitty and Rogue." Tabitha looked determined. "They are coming over and we are going to watch Steel Magnolias and whatever other chick flicks we can get our hands on."

"What?" Jean shook her head. "No, I want to be alone."

"You've been alone for two weeks, Jeanie," Amara said quietly. "We just want to spend time with you."

Jean leaned back into the couch and sighed. "You all feel bad for me."

"No," Tabitha said.

"I mean, Rogue has Remy, and Kitty has Kurt, or so she says, and you guys have each other," she said insistingly. "You don't feel sorry for me?"

"Sure we feel bad," Amara said. "But it's sort of a friend pity, not an annoying pity."

Jean smiled weakly at them. "Alright, fine. When are the other two getting here?" The door bell rang and Jean laughed. "Thanks you guys."

"No problem," Amara said gently, putting a hand on Jean's shoulder as Tabitha got up to let the others inside.

...

Ben sat next to Johnny. The funeral was over, everyone was clearing out, and Johnny was still sitting on the bench a little ways away from the grave. "Why the Hell are you wearing those glasses?" He asked in his steadily deepening voice. His vocal cords were finally catching up to his sixteen-year-old body.

"They're dads," Johnny shrugged. "I guess they make me feel like I'm near him."

"You were lucky to have Scott for a dad," Ben said. "You were lucky to have a dad at all."

"You didn't have one?" Johnny looked at him. There were still chunks of his memory he couldn't hold onto.

"No," he said. "I grew up in an orphanage. I guess I have a dad now. The Professor was happy to hear that I'm a clone of him."

"But what about the--"

"Don't bring that up," Ben said darkly. "I will hit you."

Johnny fell silent. Ben had gotten considerably meaner over the past year, after NeXt Gen had defeated the Beast. Everyone had changed. Raven never spoke to anyone anymore, always reading or locked in her room, or both. Chloe had discovered camouflage clothing, leather, and martial arts, slowly becoming a smaller, female Logan. Jonah and Jasmine were getting closer every day, spending almost all of their time together, though they denied any kind of romantic relationship. Eevee was becoming strongly academic, studying harder than any living person should have to. Twitch was easily the best example of change, running around with Dani almost all of the time, constantly struggling to keep his appearance a secret, ridiculous and slightly funny considering that Dani was blind. Lorelai and Nico had moved from friends to flirty games to hiding out in each other's rooms, completely ignoring Lory's inability to touch another person's skin. And Kaylee and Richiu were still new to everyone, both rather reclusive and annoyingly stuck-up, Richiu especially so.

Ben seemed to have changed completely and remain exactly the same way all at the same time. Johnny was constantly baffled by the broody boy, as was everyone.

"Since you're already in uniform," Ben broke Johnny from his thoughts. "Want to mess around in the danger room?"

"Sure, alright," Johnny said, getting up and stretching. Glancing over at the grave, he stopped. Ben noticed his hesitation and touched his arm.

"We'll all miss him," Ben said softly, a little more tender than usual.

Johnny nodded and the two retreated into the house.

...

"Hello?" Alexis called quietly, wandering out into an empty hall. "Can somebody help me?" Looking around, she sighed. "I'm lost."

Being lost isn't so bad, she thought to herself, taking a few steps down the hall. The infirmary wasn't that big, she would find her father and grandpa somewhere. Alex, her father, had promised to let her watch Hank work for a few hours. She had done so happily. The trouble was, she couldn't find her way back to the main house.

She felt for sure someone was following her, the narrow hallway giving her the creeps. "C-cousin Johnny?" she whispered, turning her head to look back. "Are you there?" There was no one, but she refused to relax. "Ben? Joey? Nico?"

A wild thought popped into her head, her young age getting in the way of her superior intelligence. "Uncle Scott?" she said in a hushed voice, hoping to God and anyone else who happened to be listening that ghosts were stupid and not real.

Walking past a padlocked door, she became suddenly cold and shaky. She stopped walking and stood next to the door, staring straight ahead at the far wall, not wanting to look at the small window in the door beside her and at the same time, wanting to. She felt like someone was staring at her. Slowly taking in a deep breath, she slowly turned her head to look up at the window looking into the room beyond the door.

Looking down at her was a pale-faced, fair-haired girl, bright and pale blue eyes staring down at Alexis, one hand pressed against the cold glass. The ten-year-old's mind battled with her mother's rage and her father's sensibility. Neither won. Instead, she did what any young child would do.

She screamed.

NEXT: Ariana, Jonah and Apple Fritters