Disclaimer- I don't own the X-Men. They belong to Marvel Comics.

Mutant High Episode 2- "The Brotherhood Revealed"

Chapter 3

After groggily awaking, it was mostly the lack of pain that shocked Jean the most. She would have thought after being knocked unconscious, one would be much more incapacitated than she was, but there was nothing. Not even a headache.

It had been an illusion, it turned out. Jean was impressed by Emma's abilities- to create an illusion of pain so powerful it could knock someone unconscious took a very refined level of skill. Though Jean didn't want to admit it.

Everything about Emma Frost was rubbing Jean the wrong way. There was something in her, in her voice, her eyes, that was so mighty. So righteous. It made Jean frustrated. But Dr. Xavier trusted her.

"I like to teach by example," she offered as an explanation to the attack. Jean thought it was total bullshit- had she really felt that, she would have read Jean's mind against her wishes.

"Whatever," Jean remarked. "So that's what you're going to teach me?" Emma nodded. She did not smile. Her response felt so exasperated. As if Jean was somehow a burden to the older telepath.

"I want you to be able to not just read others thoughts. From what Dr. Xavier's told me, it seems you're already quite proficient at that."

Don't let anything show. Jean's face moved not an inch.

"If you remember," Emma continued, "I was explaining to you that there are dangerous mutants around." Again, nothing. "Your telekinesis is great, but the more tricks you have up your sleeve, the better off you are. If you can tell what your enemy is thinking, that's great. But if you can change what they're thinking, that's the most powerful weapon of all."

Aren't we wise and philosophical? Jean didn't get it. Dr. Xavier was a perfectly proficient telepath. Why couldn't he teach her? Instead of this high-horse nutcase?

Jean's thoughts were interrupted again.

"I don't hate you. Really. You actually remind me a lot of myself at your age."

Jean was taken quite a back. "Excuse me?"

Emma chuckled mirthfully. "Don't play defensive, Jean," explained Emma. "Remember, I can get into here," she said, tapping her temple with a French-manicured fingernail.

"What happened to all of that 'I won't go in there if you don't want me to' you were talking about earlier?" Jean half yelled. She had had far enough of her memories being violated. She and Rogue still hadn't exactly smoothed that over.

"Rule number one of good telepathy- you don't ask permission to read someone's mind. What will that get you?"

"But Dr. Xavier said-"
"I know what he said, and I respect his opinion. But he gave you to me, and I'm not above using my telepathy on unknowing… recipients."

"Justify it," Jean challenged.

"Well. If you forgot to study for a test, you could always lift the answers from someone else."

Jean glared.

"Or," Emma continued, "you could use it to avoid another relationship like your last. It would certainly help to know that a boy likes men before you fling yourself at him."

"It wasn't like that at all-"

"But it was Jean." Emma paused. Jeans fist lay clenched tightly on the table, her knuckles pressing white into her skin.

"Remember, Jean. I'm teaching by example. Even if you can't control their thoughts through telepathy alone, you can use it to manipulate the situation nonetheless."

Jean sighed, noticeably frustrated and upset. Angrily, she pressed the palms of her hands into her reddening eyes, wiping the oncoming tears away, along with some of her stress.

"What exactly am I supposed to be doing right now?" Jean finally spat.

"You're supposed to be keeping cool, Jean. You can't crack. That's when you'll lose control." Jean's eyes expanded, but before she could let out another cry of defense, the busty blonde interrupted. "I said, keep your cool. You never know what situation you might be in." She paused to think. Jean chewed unconsciously on her bottom lip. "For example," Emma started, "you could be in a car with your family."

The image of her father's royal blue car sculpted itself perfectly in Jean's mind. Her father behind the wheel, laughing as he made one of his stupid jokes. Her mother sat next to him; hand on her forehead as she held back her laughter at her husband. Sara was there, behind the driver's seat, staring out the window. The daydreamer as always, even her fantasy was interrupted by the laughter. Jean found even herself laughing. She looked out the window over the side of the bridge. The river was beautiful, the reflection of the sun sparkling over the cerulean waves. She hadn't seen weather this nice in ages.

Then there was blaring, a low rumble that tore through Jean's ears. The laughter was drowned out by the oncoming truck. She could see her father swerving, his slender fingers grabbing furiously at the wheel, struggling to keep the car away from the truck. There was success. But it was short lived.

Jean closed her eyes as tightly as she could, gripping the door with one hand, Sara's arm with the other. She couldn't tell if she was screaming or not. It seemed as if the world had gone silent, into slow motion. The tiny blue car was no match for the waters below, and without warning, the rails gave way, and Jean felt herself, her whole family, being pitched over the edge.

Suddenly, it occurred to her. Her telekinesis. There was a chance it wasn't strong enough, but there was no damage to be done trying. Jean tried to release her sister, but her hand felt paralyzed. She pictured the car; picture her pulling it with all her might, though of flying through the sky to safety.

But all she felt was water.

Jean's eyes shot open as she gasped. Emma's expression was wiped of its cockiness. There was pure neutrality.

"That's what could happen if you lose control, Jean. If you can't get a grip, that could be the way things end for you."

The neutrality was suddenly gone. Now, Emma's face read confusion. "What's happening?" she wondered allowed, her chair quaking. It wasn't just her chair. The whole room shook with Jean's fury. The lights flickered. The sound of the dishes in the cabinets became more and more audible.

"What is wrong with you?" Jean cried, the tears now flowing freely from her face. "I did not come here to take this from you!" She stood, the rattling increasing. "If you don't hate me, then start acting like it! I don't want your ABUSE!" With the last word, Jean stomped her foot down as Emma's chair simultaneously slid away, causing her to drop to the floor. Shocked by her own temper, Jean gasped, and the tremors halted.

Emma pressed her pale hands against the terra cotta tiles as she lifted herself to a stand, smoothing out the wrinkles in her skirt.

"That's it, Jean," she exclaimed, smiling. "That's owning your powers."

The two women sat together for some time after that. Emma was silent as Jean calmed herself. After her eyes had become dry, Emma put a hand on her shoulder.

"Alright. One last thing, okay?"
Jean said nothing and nodded.
"I want you to start using your telepathy to observe. It's your homework, okay? I want you to tell me some interesting things about people next week."

Jean nodded again. And with that, they shook hands, and parted ways.