Chapter 2: Cyclops

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"That's where you come in, Scott."

Scott wasn't listening. He watched a blue and yellow fish swim laps in a large tank by the Professor's window.

"Scott?"

All that water and yet it breathed. It didn't get crushed by the pressure; it lived its entire life in a liquid world.

"Scott!"

A world that was off-limits to most humans and mutants.

"Scott." A hand landed on his shoulder and jerked him out of his reverie. Scott whirled and looked down to see that the Professor had wheeled over to him. "Scott, where are you?"

"I'm sorry, Professor. You were saying?" Professor Xavier backed up so he could meet eyes easily with him. Scott looked at him through sunglasses; he was getting tired of wearing his visor. He was getting tired of everything.

"I'm afraid you're not totally here with me, Scott. What is distracting you? I haven't seen you this out of sorts since we lost Jean." Scott couldn't hold back a laugh. "What is it?"

"It's… I don't know. I know I've been distracted lately. And yeah, it's for the same reason."

"But Jean died over a year ago."

"I know that. And I thought I'd mostly gotten past this. But," he laughed again, "I guess I didn't deal with it as well as I'd thought."

"Why do you say that? Tell me what's bothering you."

"I've been having these dreams," he began. He looked out the window at the wide, green grounds of the school and wondered how he'd be able to take it when all the students returned. "About the dam." Visions of powerful water bursting through cement walls, of an endless sea of water that covered what had recently been walkable land. Imagined visions of Jean drowning, which his mind was conjuring out of nothing, because he hadn't seen it happen. "When I'm awake, I can't think of anything else."

"How long has this been going on?" Scott could practically see the psychoanalytic wheels spinning in the Professor's head, and once again tried unsuccessfully to hold back inappropriate laughter.

"Weeks. I guess. Longer. A month, maybe?"

"Alright. I'd appreciate it if you'd keep me informed. Let me know if the dreams change, or go away, or if anything else happens."

"Why?"

"Well, I'm concerned for your wellbeing, for one thing. But I also suspect that it may be connected to something bigger."

"Like what?"

"I don't know yet. That's why I need your help. Keep track of the dreams, please."

"Fine," Scott muttered. He wished he hadn't said anything at all. He had foolishly hoped that the Professor would be able to solve his problems, make the dreams go away with some mental tinkering. He hadn't expected that he'd want to use them as a tracking device for some external phenomenon.

"Do you feel well enough to help with this mission? Scott?"

"What?" The Professor looked at him grimly, then, his eyes staring deeply past Scott's lenses. He suspected Professor Xavier was poking around in his brain, and waited to see what he'd come up with.

"Can you be present and alert for the sake of the mission?"

"Yes. Yes, of course. Just tell me what I have to do."

"I've told you twice already."

"Really?" Scott blurted out, shocked. He hadn't realized he'd been quite that distant. He would have to make a real effort to stay focused. "I'm ready now, Professor."

"Here's what I need you to do." Even as Professor Xavier spoke, Scott could feel a vision of rushing, wild water pressing on the edges of his mind, trying to get his attention. He firmly pushed them back. The Professor needed him for this mission, and that was more important than anything.

The waters would just have to wait.