August 13, 1974
"Lorna?"
Lorna looked up from the codes that she was working on. Her father stood in the doorway, looking tired.
"Hey," she said.
Her father smiled and took a seat across from her.
"What are they up to in Washington?" he asked.
"Not much," Lorna said, "Nothing Watergate-worthy anyway. Looks like they've run out of scandals for the moment."
She pushed the messages away from her.
"But I'm guessing that you didn't come here to ask about that, did you?" she asked.
He shook his head.
"No, I didn't," he said.
He folded his hands on the table, looking thoughtful.
"I'd like your opinion on something," he said.
Lorna cocked her head.
"Now that sounds important," she said.
"It is," her father said, "I was wondering what you thought about the former Bayville unit."
Lorna furrowed her eyebrows.
"You mean as a whole, or individually?" she asked.
"Both," her father said.
Lorna paused for a minute, trying to find the right words.
"Well," she said, "Toad's dedicated, but he isn't proficient in anything other than distance fighting and he's a little too eager. Boom-Boom…has a really bad name."
Her father laughed. Good. She wasn't the only one who thought that.
"It is unfortunate," her father said, "But I imagine that she might change it in a few years."
"I hope so," Lorna said.
She thought back to the few times she'd seen Tabby display her mutation.
"She's good, but she's too eager," Lorna said, "Senyaka, you know my opinion on Senyaka. I haven't seen anything to change it."
Her father nodded. Lorna was still angry from when he'd teamed up with Black Tom to try and kill Cyclops in a hospital where he'd been being treated. He'd been unapologetic about going after an enemy who couldn't fight back, seeming affronted that she would be angry at him directly after the incident.
All her life she'd been taught about honor in battle from Azazel and her father, and Senyaka didn't have any. He claimed to have learned his lesson since then, but Lorna had yet to see proof of it.
"Unfortunately Blob is still in Bayville, so I haven't seen his progress," Lorna said, "But Avalanche is far too cocky for someone of his skill level."
"I heard you got into a little scrape a few days ago," her father said, smiling.
"I just gave him some tips on picking his fights a little more wisely," Lorna shrugged, "I wouldn't call something like that a fight."
"I'm sure you did," her father said.
He drummed his fingers on the table.
"And the group as a unit?" her father said.
Lorna winced.
"I haven't seen them fight together," Lorna said, "But, from what I gather, they're unprincipled. Senyaka and Toad can take orders, but Boom-Boom can be irrational at times and Avalanche…yeah. I imagine he'll have some problems taking orders."
"Hm," her father said.
He leaned back. Lorna shifted, suddenly feeling anxious.
"Do you know something that I don't?" she asked.
"Not exactly," he said, "But I do have one more question for you."
"Which is?" Lorna said.
"Do you think that they can be salvaged?" he asked, "Taught to act as a unit, to fight together? It would be good to have another team on the field."
Lorna paused. She knew that her father valued her answer, and she ached to answer it correctly. She considered their different temperaments, but she had seen people come together in the Brotherhood before.
"Yes," she said, "If they received proper instruction, then yes, I do."
"Good," her father said, "I'm glad that you agree."
He grinned and Lorna suddenly felt apprehensive.
"Father?" she asked.
"Lorna," he said, "You have always shown an incredible capacity for leadership. I was hoping to give you a slightly easier first task, but we can only work with the tools that we are given."
Lorna blinked at him, feeling her heart plummeting. He couldn't be asking what she thought he was.
"I believe that you are ready to lead a team into the field," he said, "I want to see you train them into a unit. You'll finally be a field leader."
She stared at him, unable to say a word. He drummed his fingers on the table again, looking slightly puzzled.
"I thought that you would be happier Lorna," he said, "I thought this was what you wanted."
"No, I've always wanted this," Lorna said, stumbling over her words.
She had always wanted it, but that had been when she was sure about where she stood. Now her feelings were a tangled mass around her head and heart.
"I'm just, really surprised," Lorna said.
"You've earned it," her father said.
He got up and walked next to her. Her father leaned over and kissed her on the forehead.
"I can't think of anyone that I trust more with something like this," he said, "You'll do beautifully."
Lorna managed a smile. Emma walked in the doorway. She looked at the two of them and raised her eyebrows.
"You told her then?" she asked.
"Of course," her father said.
Emma nodded at Lorna.
"Congratulations," she said.
Without waiting for an answer Emma looked at her father.
"Janos is back," Emma said, "He wants to talk to you."
"One moment," her father said.
Her father squeezed Lorna's shoulder.
"You've earned this team," he said, "I know you'll do me proud."
Lorna nodded, forcing her smile to stay on her face. Once her father walked out Lorna put her hand to her mouth and closed her eyes. Tears were welling there, and she forced them back. She wanted to make her father proud, more than anything. Lorna could only wonder if she could any more.
She opened her eyes. She couldn't afford to think about that. Lorna had been given a mission, and she was going to complete it. Perhaps this was a blessing in disguise. Maybe all she needed to forget about Alex's words and Mystique's actions was a reminder of what the Brotherhood really stood for.
"Let me get your files out," Charles said.
Warren nodded, scrabbling at the harness that kept his wings strapped to his back. He'd told Charles that he had to wear it whenever he went home. It didn't look comfortable.
"Sorry to spring this on you," Warren said.
"It's no problem," Charles said, "I just wasn't expecting to conduct your advising session for another week."
The teen shrugged, undoing the last snap on the harness. His wings unfurled and he let out a sigh of relief.
"I convinced my Dad that the term started two weeks earlier this year," he said.
"I see," Charles said.
He knew that Warren's home life was, at best, troubled. His father had been disgusted with his son's mutation, but not enough to abandon him. Charles supposed that, in his own way, Warren's father did love him. Warren certainly defended him. He had just pushed Warren to let him chop off his wings since Warren was thirteen. Charles had a hard time understanding that sort of love.
Warren sat down, cracking his neck.
"So, what classes am I taking?" he asked.
"The standard ones," Charles said, "And I thought that you might enjoy taking some electives."
"I guess I could do art or something," Warren shrugged.
"That's a little vague," Charles said.
"I'm not really interested in electives, to be honest," he said.
He grinned.
"I'm still taking advanced genetics, right?" he asked.
Charles nodded. The class was a thinly veiled reference to the X-men program. Warren grinned and ran a hand through his blonde hair.
"I'm actually kind of looking forward to getting back to that," he said.
"And here I was thinking that you enjoyed your summer away from Professor Summers," Charles said.
Warren winced.
"Oh yeah, forgot about him," Warren said, "What about Professor Cassidy?"
"He's an adjunct," Charles said.
"So Summers still in charge?"
"Yes, and he will be for the forseeable future," Charles said.
"Damn, thought so," Warren said.
Charles frowned at the curse. Warren winced.
"Sorry sir," he said.
"No matter," Charles said.
He continued to flip through Warren's file, looking for anything that might help him shape Warren's schedule a little better. He enjoyed advising his students, although sometimes it did whittle away more time than he'd anticipated. Still, they were short staffed, and he knew that someone had to pick up extra work to make the school run.
He only wished that his wife would understand.
"Professor?"
Charles looked up and saw Warren fidgeting.
"Did you hear about the conference?" he asked.
His voice was hopeful. The conference that he was referring to was on mutant rights, geared towards young students. Anyone who wanted to go had been required to submit an application through their school. Warren had applied, along with Jean and Scott. Clarice was still a little scared of places where people would be staring at her in a non-combative way, and Ororo didn't care about such things.
"I'm sorry, but I have not," Charles said.
Warren slumped.
"Okay," he said.
Charles hesitated.
"They have, however, released a statement saying that they will only be taking two students from every school," he said.
Warren closed his eyes and sighed.
"So I'm not going then."
"I never said that," Charles said, "Just that it might be more difficult-"
"But the other two are Jean and Scott," Warren said, his voice bitter, "Jean, she's the smartest person in the school. They'll look at her scores and all the clubs she's involved in and they'll snap her up. And then it's between me and Scott."
He snorted.
"We all know how that ends."
Charles winced. Alex had quietly talked to him about how, a year or so ago, both Warren and Scott had asked Jean out. Jean had said yes to Scott, causing a rift in the team. They had managed to sail through it, but Charles knew that Warren was still upset about it. His friendship with Scott had never fully recovered.
"I mean, he gets everything, doesn't he?" Warren said, "Gets to be the most popular, the strongest, gets to lead the X-men one day, and now he gets the conference too."
"They haven't made their decision yet," Charles said.
"Yeah, but I know what they'll decide," Warren said, "I know."
Warren shrugged, his tone cracking.
"It just sort of sucks to always be second best," he said.
"Warren-" Charles said.
Warren got up, brushing off his wings.
"You know, can we reschedule this?" Warren asked, "Maybe until tomorrow?"
The anguish and frustration was palpable in his voice.
"Of course," Charles said, "Do you want to talk Warren?"
Warren hesitated before shaking his head.
"No, not really," he said.
Without another word Warren walked out of the room, his head hung low.