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PREVIOUS SCENE
Hank tries to remain calm, but he doesn't realize he is blaring panic. Thankfully, Charles intervenes. Jason, step outside. Professor Rasputin is waiting to speak with you in his office.
Jason's face mottles in an ugly shade of embarrassed red. A giant chicken, incongruously dressed in a gray cardigan and brown slacks, abruptly materializes in the front of the classroom. Shocked, Hank jumps onto his desk. Jason snorts. The chicken squawks loudly, causing the rest of the students to jump.
Very amusing. However, the joke, you'll find, is on you. Jason's mouth drops as he sees the chicken dressed like Charles begin to peck at a comically wiggling large worm with Jason's head. The students burst into laughter.
Jason hears them only dimly. For a horrible few moments, he is the worm, squirming in the chicken's beak.
Now then. I believe we were talking about Professor Rasputin's office?
Jason nods dumbly and walks to the door.
As he disappears from view, everyone starts whispering until Hank clears his throat. "Class, please turn to page …"
*So I'm incorporating a bunch of mutants into the story without ever having read the comics and basically slaughtering their roles and personalities. Uh, sorry?
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"Professor Rasputin," Jason stammers, still in shock, upon entering the older mutant's office. The man is huge, tall and imposing. When Piotr Rasputin speaks, however, his voice is unexpectedly mild. "Dr. Xavier informs me there have been some concerning behavior on your part in classes."
Immediately less impressed by Rasputin, Jason recovers his sullen attitude and says nothing. It is apparent that he is only positively affected by a show of might, and wondering why someone like Magneto, who clearly emanates power, wasn't instructed to speak to him instead.
Rasputin frowns in thoughtful contemplation as if listening to someone, then tells Jason with maddening moderation, "Professor Lensherr is certainly more than capable of delivering stirring speeches on the subject of the superior mutant species. However, such sentiments would hardly help in solving the the situation at present."
Jason involuntarily shivers. It is as though there is a third presence is in the room. "So what's the punishment?" he says loudly in a display of bravado.
"Consider the lectures in the next few weeks to be an instructional period. After each session we will hold a discussion, followed by a thoughtful 5-7 page double-spaced essay mediating on the responsible use of mutant ability." Colossus give Jason a sympathetic smile which only serves to further irritate the boy. "Jason, I am an artist by choice, a mutant by nature. I understand the restrictions laid upon you must be frustrating, but try to look at the matter from a different perspective."
"And that would be?" Jason challenges, his gut boiling with growing outrage.
"We are not animals, to be determined purely by genetics. We mutants branched from homo sapiens, and from them we have the capability to think for ourselves about we who want to be. The decision is not dependent on the primal desire to take from those weaker than us."
Jason snorts and waves his arms in emphasis. "No offense, but you talk like an idiot, Prof. If I can screw with people's minds, why not do it? I can have whatever I want."
Rasputin nods, smiling somewhat ironically. "Technically speaking, I could crush your skull in less than a second."
Jason stares at the unassuming man sitting on the armchair across the desk, then starts to laugh. "Good one. Maybe if you keep on with this stupid monologue my head will just spontaneously implode."
In an instant a shining metallic layer completely covers Colossus' body. He leans over the desk, which shudders under the weight, and looks straight at the gaping boy. "That might save me some trouble," he says mildly. "But at this Institute, we're more interested in changing your mind than destroying it."
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"Explain to me again how your techniques aren't brainwashing." Erik says. He and Charles are walking the Winchester estate grounds in one of the few times both can get away from the growing student body. They stop at the edge of a lake, as Erik sees that Charles is beginning to tire.
Charles leans on his cane and studies the shimmering surface of the water. "You speak of indoctrination."
"Yes. I'm even laying aside your telepathic habit of interfering with school instruction." Erik cocks an eyebrow, turning to look at Charles' meditative profile. He sits down in the grass and gestures for Charles to do the same.
Charles complies and with some effort lowers himself to the ground. He smiles. "I find it amusing that, if you were in my position you would justify literally wiping mentally slates clean-making mutants with lesser powers pawns, if you will-and yet you feign indignance when I try to educate children on how to make a better world."
"You do claim to be the better man," Erik reminds him, stretching his legs out in front of him. "And this better world-it's what you want, isn't it? "
"I said we could be," Charles corrects. "And if everyone can live peacefully with each other, I don't believe it's a selfish vision."
Erik closes his eyes and for a moment thinks back to his childhood, before the terrible wholesale massacre of Jews, when he played with friends who were Jews and Germans alike. And then ... "It's a fairytale."
"Perhaps there are happy endings, my friend." Charles spreads his arms as though by his sheer eagerness he could bring such a thing to pass. "If students here do not find the course of study to be beneficial, they are welcome to withdraw. But there is a home for them here."
Erik shrugs, ignoring the small flame of hope in his chest that, just maybe, Charles would be right this time. "That new boy, Jason. He's a troublemaker."
"Really." Charles raises an eyebrow. "I hadn't noticed." He sighs. "I'd have thought you'd like that."
"I would, if we were at cross purposes," Erik admits. "For now, I'm willing to go along with you, though."
"Why, thank you for your tolerance of my quirks," Charles replies sweetly, picking up grass blades and playfully tossing them at Erik.
"You shouldn't waste any more time on him," Erik warns, scowling as he brushes off the grass. "He's a scorpion, and a loner. He'll sting whoever's in his way, mutant or not."
Charles' expression is sad. "I don't want to give up on him."
"You never do," Erik tells him in mock annoyance. "It's one of your more endearing-and foolish-qualities."
"Your comment is appreciated for the compliment it is," Charles says primly, and moves to rise, as the wind is picking up.
As they walk back, Erik remarks, "Jean's abilities are becoming quite impressive." Indeed, the other day she had succeeded in completely pulverizing a number of increasingly larger objects with different densities. Erik couldn't help but wonder what she could do with independent one-on-one study with him.
Charles frowns. "Yes. In fact, I'm afraid-" he stops and gives a sidelong glance to Erik. What he sees apparently does not reassure him.
Erik opens the front door, then turns back to look at Charles when the man does not immeidately answer. "What are you afraid of?"
Charles claps him on the back and smiles at him, but his smile is odd. "Many things, my friend."
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