Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel or X-Men. I'm 30 now. It sucks. Where's Skip when I need him? I need to go back to 1996 and never return.

...Wait. He can't de-age me. Forget it, then.

Chapter 42: 'Tis The Season

I had one time made an off-handed comment about how being on the baby X-Men team made us all designated resident assistants for the rest of the student body. It had been a joke, yet as time passed it became more and more accurate.

At first, it was people coming across us in the halls and asking for advice. Eventually, it started evolving to people reporting potential problems for us to check on. Not that we were particularly keen to do so, but after all of the trouble that had happened at school, it behooved us to keep an eye out. And, of course, with the rest of the team being roped into doing this, it was always my problem because they always wound up reporting back to me.

I needed to make a comment box or some group on social media for kids to leave their concerns with, because without such a thing, they kept seeking me out directly.

"-Like, I'm just saying, it's not fair," One boy said, in the middle of droning on about his issue for the last several minutes, "Is it really a big deal that I like sleeping in the pool? It's comfortable for me, and it's not like anyone is swimming after midnight. I don't really think I should get in trouble over that, do you?"

An aquatic mutant had managed to find me and approached me with no regard to what I'd been doing to begin giving out to me. Apparently, this kid had no idea what killing the mood meant. I'd been in a residential kitchen with Laura doing a couple thing of making dinner, when he'd barged in with his issue. An issue I really couldn't do anything about.

I'd tried being cordial at first, but he just kept going... and going... and going. Just, in a circle, back to the same point over and over again.

I stared at him, then spared a glance over at Laura, who'd long since grown bored with listening and busied herself with cutting up ingredients, "Dude, I'm trying to do a thing here," I said to the student, "Can you, like, not? Please?"

I got a halfhearted apology for my trouble, "Well, sorry. But nobody knows what your office hours are."

My mouth hung open in astonishment. He couldn't have been serious, "Office hours? What are you-? I don't have office hours! I don't even have an office!"

"So, does that mean students can reach out any time?" The student asked, either ignoring or otherwise not noticing my growing ire, "Hey aren't you supposed to have a number we can reach you at or something? Ow. Ow. Ow! Hey!"

I'd started throwing individual kernels of frozen corn to antagonize the kid into leaving, "Shoo, fool! Yah!"

Apparently, 'Taking A Hint 101' was a class that sorely needed to be taught at Xavier's. It only took a few sharp chunks to the head to get him to take off running. My aim with frozen vegetables was almost as good as it was with beams of hardened light.

"That was mean of you," Laura remarked, still handling ingredients from the kitchen counter.

I rolled my eyes, not that she could see it. She hadn't bothered to look up the entire time I'd been engaged, going with the time-honored method of completely ignoring someone to get out of an unwanted conversation. Quite the technique.

I moved over behind her and looked over her shoulder at her progress, "Nice stops the third time I have to say I'm not an R.A. in five minutes," I remarked, wrapping my arms around her waist while I watched her, "Can I start cooking the ground beef yet?"

Laura nodded, and I could see a little smile form on her lips, "You can," She replied.

I hummed and decided to ask another relevant question, "Can you tell me what you want for Christmas yet?"

The bait was not taken.

"I do not want anything for Christmas," Laura said, as nonchalantly as ever.

Goddamn you, woman. Not that I had been expecting any other kind of answer. She gave me the same response every time I had asked that question over the last few days. Normally, this would have been fine, as I could have probably gotten an idea on my own, but Laura was the kind of person that was difficult to shop for. It was a mystery as to what she actually liked.

That in mind, I decided to tease her a little bit, "Not even if it's Kimura's severed head dipped in gold?" I tempted.

From the way she paused, it was clear to me that I had at least piqued her interest, at least until she realized I'd been joking. Kind of. I wouldn't have had any problems morally following through on that if given the chance. Grim as it was, it probably couldn't have happened to a nicer person.

Still... Laura was a good girl. And good girls didn't just ask for their enemies' heads to be sawed off for the sake of vengeance; even if they really wanted to.

"No, not even that," Laura huffed, giving me a nudge for picking on her, "...Why dipped in gold?"

"So you can use it as an ornament or something," I reasoned, "Put it on your mantle or the hood of your car. Girls like shiny things, right?"

Laura elbowed me in the ribs, "Bellamy," She said chidingly.

I laughed and moved away from her would-be wrath, "Yeah-yeah-yeah," I busied myself with washing my hands and preparing the ground beef for our dinner, "I'll figure something out," I said under my breath.

"I heard that," Laura informed me.

"I know."

XxX

A few of the boys and I had similar concerns over getting a Christmas present for our significant others, and decided to put our heads together to try and come up with proper gift ideas.

Hey, why not? Between myself, Eddie, and Julian, there had to be enough brain power between the three of us to make something worthwhile happen, right?"

...

...Well, if we couldn't, that was why we brought Saberwolf. Also, for security purposes, because bad things seemed to happen whenever we tried to go out and just do things. It also didn't hurt that he looked scarier than any of us, so anyone looking to price gouge the mutant kids had to consider dealing with him.

We hadn't dealt with too much static from people around. Salem Center was so accustomed to mutants being around, we hardly even got looks from anyone anymore, even with a floating boy and a giant metal wolf in tow.

All things considered, we all just went out and goofed around, looking at storefronts, trying to find some stroke of inspiration. Some of us had more luck than others.

By others, I meant Eddie.

Between him and Julian, who had been close friends with Cessily for just about two years, they were able to work together on ideas for the girl. And fortunately, we all settled on something I was actually able to help out with.

Not for the first time since we'd picked them up, Eddie pulled out a pair of Dazzler tickets and stared at them, laughing to himself in disbelief, "Dude, are you sure I can have these?" He asked, also not for the first time.

I was willing to reassure him as many times as it took to get the point across, "Consider them my Christmas gift to you," I said, "It's not like I can use them now. I'm just glad someone can. I was planning to try and re-sell 'em anyway."

I had no interest in going. I'd originally bought them right before homecoming for Megan, because she liked Dazzler's music. I'd planned to take her when the show rolled around near Valentine's Day. Well, due to the collapse of that relationship, it wasn't exactly an avenue I could stroll down any longer. And Laura wasn't really a fan of Dazzler. With her hearing, she probably wouldn't have enjoyed music blared her way at decibels that would damage a regular person's ears.

Better to let someone else get some kind of benefit out of it, at least. Eddie was my boy, so if he could use the tickets to make Cessily happy, good for him. Making my friends happy made me happy. Or at least made me less grumpy.

Yes, I wasn't the grumpiest person in the group for once. That designation went to Julian.

"Why does this have to be so hard?" He moaned, "You'd think with all of the goddamn commercials on, I'd have noticed something that grabbed her at some point."

"It is what it is," I said, though I could feel his pain to an extent, "The pressure's still on. That's what you get when you put all of this meaning into random days on the calendar," I couldn't help but add a little high-and-mighty spin in there.

Instead of getting more disgruntled, Julian sent a smug grin my way, "Oh, like birthdays?"

I paused mid-step and glared at him. I could feel a jab when someone sent it my way, "My birthday, yes. Why do you even know about that?"

At this, both Julian and Eddie had a laugh as the former explained, "You kidding? You having a hate boner for your birthday got around quick. All of the girls on the team were like, 'Aww, Bel. Poor broken, baby bird. Something terrible must have happened,'" He said in a high-pitched voice, "You're lucky. They had to be talked out of doing something to make a big deal out of it."

Good. I owed whoever did that a steak or something, because I would have been breathing fire the whole time. Very little I could think of would have annoyed me quite as much, even done with good intentions.

"Either way," Julian continued, getting back to his current issue, "It doesn't change the fact that between the three of us, the best idea we've had are hand-me-down tickets," He gestured to the tickets I'd given to Eddie, "And they weren't even for me!"

Eddie pocketed the tickets and smacked Hellion on the arm, "Julian, Bel is in the same boat as you, and you don't see him whining."

I mean, I wanted to, because fuck holidays, but I was being praised, so there was no need to derail my hype man while he was bigging me up. Eventually, I did interject.

"Cut Julian some slack," I said, clapping the man in question on the back, "This is probably the first purchase of any consequence he's had to make without access to his parents' black card."

Eddie grinned, picking up that I was messing with him, "Yeah. It probably sucks when you can't just buy Sofia a car or something and call it a day."

Julian swatted my hand away, but there was still a bit of a smile on his face, "I wouldn't have bought her a car," He insisted.

I played along, just to bury him further; in a fun way, of course, "Right. Just some obscenely expensive piece of jewelry, or something else that would get her room raided at school."

This seemed to irk Saberwolf, who'd been content just tagging along, "I would not let that happen," He asserted. I must have insulted his pride as head of security, "Julian Keller, feel secure in purchasing Sofia Mantega as expensive a trinket as you would like."

Julian's ears burned red with embarrassment, "It's not a matter of would, it's more a matter of could... seeing as how I'm not rich anymore."

Even though he was saying it to what was essentially just a machine, it was a mortifying admission for him to make aloud. Being disowned and broke would do that. To be fair, Julian had mellowed out a lot since the summer when it had presumably happened, and it had been such a shitty deal that I couldn't help but feel bad for the guy, not that I'd say it aloud. Not that he would prefer that I would either. He'd rather I skirt the line by making jokes and treating him like normal, which was respectable.

He could still be a prick, but as long as you knew what you were doing you could keep him in check, and when you could he wasn't bad to be around at all.

Damn it, when had I become actual friends with Julian Keller? I'd barely even noticed the shift.

XxX

With it edging closer to Christmas, classes were winding down for the semester. We still had exams to get through, but after that it was smooth sailing. No more school, and those students with family to go home to for the break would be setting out soon thereafter.

That, of course, meant that regular activities for my team of student body X-Men would be on temporary hold. But it wasn't like any of us had problems with that. After a tumultuous few months, we could have done with some time away from the rigors of being private superheroes. The difficulty of it all had come as a shock to more than a few of my teammates.

One of those students had seemed to be Laurie Collins – Wallflower. I'd been keeping an eye on here since the thing in Limbo, talking to her more when we ran into each other and asking her friends on the team how she was doing. We weren't really close, but it was to the point that she trusted me enough to pull me aside to talk about something. Good. The last time we'd had a serious talk, it had been me getting ahold of her first.

"What's up?" I asked.

"I want to ask you for some advice."

Uh-oh. To ask me for any kind of advice? Red flags of desperation were flying all around her.

"I... sure," I relented on turning her down outright. If someone was coming to me for any kind of advice, they'd probably thought about the merits of asking my opinion on something in the first place.

Besides, Laurie was on the team, and the team was my responsibility. Thus, she was my responsibility.

Laurie rocked uncomfortably in place, trying to think of how she wanted to frame her question. She eventually decided to do so in the form of a hypothetical, "Imagine you lived your whole life being told that someone important to you was a bad person, but you never met them. And then you do."

"Okay," I replied, uncertain if I was quite picking up what she was putting down, "Is this a family thing?" I ventured to guess.

"My... dad," Laurie admitted with a sigh, eyes cast down to the ground, "My mom told me terrible things about him, for as long as I can remember. She kept me away from him, never told him about me. But he found me, and he wants to get to know me."

That sounded... way above my pay grade. My relationship with my family was great, so I had no way to relate, "You sure you want to talk about this with me and not Josh?"

Josh; her actual boyfriend... who also had family problems, seeing as how they'd disowned him once his powers manifested.

Laurie shrugged noncommittally, "You're kind of detached. That makes it a little easier to tell you stuff," She said, a tiny grin forming, "It'd be easier if you had office hours, but what can you do?"

I gave her a dry look, "Fucking office hours... ha. Funny," So that was a thing now. Fantastic. At least she felt good enough to make jokes, "So, okay. You never met your dad. Your mom says he's a dick. How bad are we talking here?"

Getting back to serious business, Laurie's mood sobered, "He has powers like mine," She mumbled, "You know what I can do. My pheromones? Imagine if I used them to get whatever I want."

The scary thought that we had already visited in the past? Yes, that would suck having someone manipulate people's thoughts and actions in such a way. It was why there was such close tabs kept on telepaths worldwide. The same idea went for Laurie's powers.

"That's what he did?" I asked.

Laurie nodded, "Anything he wanted, he'd just use his powers to get. Money, fame, women."

The way she trailed off and seemed remarkably uncomfortable on that last point snapped together a few puzzle pieces in my head, "Oh shit," I said quietly.

I didn't ask out loud, but then, I didn't have to. Laurie went into detail for me, "My mom married him, and when she got pregnant with me, she became immune to his pheromones. Then she got out of there. Sixteen years later, he found me, and here we are."

Seriously, was I the only person at this school who didn't have some shitty aspect to their life before showing up?

"Indeed," I said, not knowing where else to go with that information. It was a succinct way to wrap up something that seemingly terrifying, "Well, there are some people who you would ask about this, and they might suggest you turn the other cheek – maybe see if things have changed. Family is important, blah-blah-blah."

"-I think I see where you're going with this," Laurie interjected, seemingly amused, despite the conversation at hand.

"I am not one of those people," I continued, getting in a ranting groove, "I hold grudges, and certain levels of shit-housery are not to be washed away. Apologize for your fuck-ups if you mean it, but you don't get to expect forgiveness when you hurt people."

By the time I'd finished, I could feel the warmth in my hands. Somewhere along the line, I'd clenched my fists hard enough to start channeling light energy.

Somehow though, Laurie was able to find a thread to follow in my diatribe, "So, tell him to hit the bricks?"

I took a deep breath and let my hands relax, "That's the nicest way to describe what I would do," What I would do would likely involve considerably more violence. But she had the general idea, "Jeez, this guy really had the balls to reach out to you?"

You really had to make a lot of assumptions about the kind of person you were dealing with to try something like that.

"He says he's different now," Laurie said, sounding very unconvinced, "That he wants to make up for lost time."

My response rolled right out of my mouth, no filter, "Sounds like a line straight out of the 'Scumbag 101' playbook."

If he'd really changed, he would know to fuck off and disappear. From the sounds of things, he still seemed like the kind of person that would use what he could to go after what he wanted. I wanted to stomp a mudhole in the guy, and I wasn't even involved.

No wonder she always seemed to have issues with using her powers wrong. Given what had happened to her mom, she probably had none of that once she realized that Laurie could do the exact same thing to others that her father had.

Man, people were a mistake. Either way, I'd said all I could say that I had the right to on the matter.

"He hasn't pushed about it," Laurie said, "It's been a few weeks since it last came up at all."

I pursed my lips but didn't pursue the issue any further. It was her life, after all, "Well, you have my opinion," I said, giving Laurie a pat on the arm to signify that our talk was concluding, "And if it turns out you need someone to blast this guy in the face, you have my number. If the rest of your friends don't beat me to it, that is."

I was pretty sure that between the rest of the former New Mutants, she wouldn't have any shortage of people who had her back.

Laurie sighed in what I hoped was relief and smiled, "Thanks, Bellamy."

"It's literally my job," I replied, "Just remember, you're not saddled with someone forever because you share genes. Family can be a choice too."

Not for me. My mom and dad fucking rule, and I was hyped to go home and spend a few weeks with them over the break. But for people with crappy families, in my head, it was fair for the option to exist. I had never been a fan of circumstances beyond one's own control.

I was just trying to sound profound, and I hoped I'd sounded as wise as I'd wanted to. As the team leader, I had to try and be insightful from time-to-time for the sake of my minions' confidence in me. Maybe then, it would seem like I knew more what I was doing.

XxX

Being that myself, Eddie, Hisako, and Ruth would all be gone off-campus come Christmas, and because I lacked the patience to hold onto their stuff any longer than I needed to once I'd finished shopping, I decided I would just give out Paladin presents early.

Eddie already received his, so it was time to see the look on everyone else's face when they got theirs. Hisako seemed a tad apprehensive when I shoved a small box into her hands. Her apprehension turned to surprise when she unwrapped a set of AirPods, purchased, because I got tired of seeing her walk around with wired earbuds that she wound up catching on everything.

Hisako was a functional girl more than the type to enjoy something goofy or sentimental. I had deemed it best to get her something more useful than anything stupid-fun.

"Whoa. Are you serious?" She stared at the box, about to test to see if it was a gag gift until she saw the receipt taped to the back of the box, "Bel, I just expected a shirt with a lame, slightly offensive joke on it that I'd probably end up sleeping in."

"Oh, everyone's getting one of those too," I said, "-But that's more stocking-stuffer material. If there are two things I don't fuck around with; it's fighting and presents."

Hisako, not understanding that concept however, continued to protest.

"It's too expensive," She argued.

"It was, like $120 bucks."

She looked at me like I was an idiot, so, nothing out of the usual, "That's too expensive!"

I'd originally squared away $300 as a starting budget for everyone's gifts, but seeing as how I hadn't had to dip into it at all for Eddie's, the rest could go to the others. Money wasn't really an object though, and I wound up going over. I'd been working for my parents for years, including over the summer, and I never had particularly expensive tastes. The most I blew money on was for video games and other stupid odds and ends. I had lots of money stockpiled for a kid.

"'Tis the season for spoiling you jerks," I said with a sarcastically grand, sweeping gesture, "Now take the gift and give me a hug, you stick in the mud. Don't steal my gimmick. I'm supposed to be the buzzkill around here."

Hisako rolled her eyes, but smiled and did as requested. That was two down.

Ruth had been extremely easy to shop for. She was type who would have liked just about anything I got her, but she'd actually taken earlier cues and had been hinting to me what she'd be interested in for a while.

With Mister Rasputin's help, Ruth was getting more into art. As it turned out, she had a serious knack for it. More importantly, she enjoyed it. Not just painting or drawing, either. The time he had his art classes attempt sculpting, she really seemed to like it. She found the overall process calming, which was a positive, because any outlet was good when you considered how upsetting it probably was to see as many awful visions as she did. If sketching some of it out helped put her mind at ease, more power to her.

The only problem was that she didn't have unlimited access to the school's materials. Mister Rasputin could let her stay a little later when she wanted to do a little extra work, but she didn't have free reign to come and go as she pleased. This was an easy fix, seeing as how I could just overload her with all of the art materials she could have ever wanted to get her started.

Plus, as a bonus for me, I'd probably get my pick of whatever dope shit she wound up making in the future. Despite the harrowing connotations attached to it, that Limbo painting she did was A-plus. The moment Mister Rasputin graded that thing, I asked Ruth if I could have it. It was coming with me back to San Francisco to go into a frame in my room.

Anyway, when her gifts were presented to her, I got a gigantic hug that almost knocked me down and a massive burst of affection beamed right into my brain.

Alright, that counted as a win for me. Three down.

Laura though... that had been a tougher one, and arguably the most important.

She had sensibilities like Hisako, where she wouldn't enjoy something silly or frivolous, so no flashy bullshit gadgets. Aside from that, I wanted to get her something that wasn't just nice, wasn't just something she'd find some real use out of, but would mean something.

That was the kind of thing I should have been aiming for as her boyfriend, right? The whole 'best gift comes from the heart' adage.

I had that in mind when I found Laura standing by a large window, watching snow fall by herself. Even though there were more than enough people I thought she would be comfortable enough around by then, I could still count on finding her alone more often than not.

"Bellamy," She greeted without turning around, "Do you need something?"

I thought about using some cheesy pick-up line, and just as quickly shot it down. There was a time and a place for everything, and this wasn't it.

"Nothing big," I assured her as I leaned on the ledge beside her, "I just wanted to give you this," I wiggled the box containing her present for emphasis.

She didn't immediately reach out and take it when offered, "I told you I did not want a gift," Laura said.

I feigned confusion, straightening up as if I were surprised, "What? Are you sure? I don't remember you telling me that."

"Selective memory, perhaps?" Laura replied. I could hear the sarcasm in her tone.

"Come on, Buzzsaw," I urged, "This is literally the first Christmas you've probably had, right?"

"I have lived through sixteen previous Christmases, so no."

"You know what I meant, you smartass."

The first actual Christmas where she wasn't being tormented by her creators, or being sent out to kill something for them. The first actual Christmas where she wasn't somehow being exploited. The first actual Christmas around people that loved her, where she wasn't all alone.

Goddamn, it was hard trying to get her used to being treated right.

Laura sighed, probably realizing that I wasn't going to back down on this, "You do not owe me anything."

This girl really wasn't understanding that currying favor wasn't the entire concept of gift-giving. You could just give people things to show them that you valued their existence, and I definitely valued hers, even if she didn't seem to all the time.

"You taking this would do more for me than you, really," I said, trying to sway her, "Look, I give my gifts with the receipt. If you really don't want it, you can take it back and get it exchanged... or cash... or a gift card... or whatever the fuck the place I got this from gives for returns."

She eyed the gift then looked down at her own empty hands, "I do not have anything to give you."

"And you don't need to," I replied, holding the box out to her once more, "This is a token of my appreciation for you being a gumdrop."

Potentially homicidal gumdrop with claws that she was.

I must have worn her down, because eventually she did take the box from me. It was a little bit bigger than my hand, and she seemed to regard it curiously as she tore the wrapping paper away to reveal the plain case underneath.

Watching her open it, I was more excited than she seemed to be, "It isn't Kimura's head dipped in gold like we talked about, but I hope you like it anyway," I tried to joke to downplay my own anticipation.

Laura popped open the lid to reveal a choker inside with a gem in the middle. It wasn't too ornate, but it was a very well-made piece. I made sure to run the idea by lady friends who actually knew what they were looking at before I made the purchase, because I didn't trust my own tastes.

I watched her like a hawk as she pulled it out and appraised it. I hoped if she had a problem with it, she knew she could tell me. All the same, I really wanted her to like it. When she looked up at me and smiled, I released the breath I didn't know I'd been holding.

She thought she was a mistake; something that never should have been created. But framed against the background of falling snow on the campus, she looked like the only bit of warmth in a frozen wasteland. If only she could see herself the way some others did. The way I did.

She took off the necklace she'd been wearing and handed it to me so she could try on my gift. I thought it looked great, but I was obviously biased. Pulling out my phone I handed it over so Laura could get a glimpse of herself.

As she checked herself out, I busied myself by flapping my gums, "The gem is supposed to change colors depending on your mood," I pointed out as the white gem turned a cool green for a neutral color once it had gotten acclimated to its wearer, "Now people around you can actually figure out if you're pissed about stuff."

"Present company included?" Laura quipped, an eyebrow slightly raised.

"Oh, absolutely," I admitted freely, "But seriously, I thought it fit your style, and I figured if I got you something big and time-wasty, you'd just get annoyed."

Laura then used my phone to look at more than the choker, "My... style," She began checking out the rest of her clothes; black corset top over black jeans with black arm-sleeves cut off at the fingers. She oftentimes dressed in a similar manner.

"Yeah, your style," I said, gesturing at her entire person, "You know; the way you dress. Your whole aesthetic."

"Aesthetic?" Laura sounded skeptical that I managed to break that out of my vocabulary.

I couldn't help but get a little smug, "I've got that 'word of the day' drip, I'll have you know. Better start breaking out your dictionary to deal with me."

It seemed like I almost got a laugh out of her, "I know what 'aesthetic' means, Bellamy," She regarded herself again at that, looking herself over from head to toe, "I... took it from my cousin. She wore clothes like this often... while I stayed with her and my aunt. They were good to me. They taught me a lot. But then, we had to separate... for their safety."

She didn't need to say much more. I was familiar with the primary source of her pains in life, "The Facility."

"Yes..." Laura nodded, looking down. Blue must have been the color for sad, because that was what the gem turned to. Not that I needed it, as it was all over Laura's body language.

"Sorry for bringing it up," I said, wincing at having done something potentially hurtful.

Damn it. I wanted to try and make her happy; not give her an excuse to dwell on the past. Could I do anything for this kid that didn't result in digging up some shallowly buried trauma?

"No. They were good memories," She reached up to her chest and put a hand on her heart, "When I think of them, it feels a lot like how I feel when I think about you now. It is not quite the same though," She concluded cryptically.

While she likely just meant that it felt different. Whether it was better or not was left up to my interpretation. One could only hope it was at least comparable.

I wrapped my arms around her and smiled when I heard her sigh in relief and return the gesture, pressing her head against my chest, "Merry Christmas, Buzzsaw," I said, giving her a kiss on top of the head.

XxX

I didn't mind people counting on me. I thought I was scared of it at first, but when I took over the Paladins in the spring, I realized that hadn't been my hangup. Normally, when someone counted on you, they wanted you to do something. That came with a target, an objective, a goal – something to focus on. People needed you until they didn't. That was easy.

What I had really been scared of was my 'potential'. I'd been hearing that word a lot since Miss Pryde had been in charge. I heard it more once I started getting hands-on mentoring from Mister Summers.

I hated that word.

What people expected when they were counting on you in a moment was different than what they expected from your potential. It was less concrete. People always say things like they want you to reach your potential. What the fuck did that mean anyway? Everyone always wanted something different when they said that, and it was always something vague; something you couldn't ever tell if you reached.

Making me lead the squad of students was supposed to help me reach my potential. Fuck that. I just wanted to make sure all my friends stayed alive. Maybe keep myself from blowing up the planet in the future. Beyond that?

Well... for the moment, I really wanted Mister Summers to stop looking over my shoulder while I was comparing field reports in the library.

My discomfort must have shown in my body language, "Am I bugging you?" He asked, sounding amused.

"Yes," I said bluntly, setting aside the files from past X-Men teams and my own. It was past midnight and I was doing some studying while I had nothing else going on, "You watching me makes me feel like I'm doing this wrong."

Mister Summers shrugged, "Not sure how you can read reports wrong, but okay."

I wanted to chuck a folder at him when he sat down across from me, "You know what I meant. This job makes me nervous."

He shook his head disbelievingly, "I've seen you actually doing the job. You're not nervous then," He said, "You're nervous now because things are quiet."

He wasn't wrong. It was like I said before. When there was something going on that needed to be dealt with, I was fine. But leave me alone with my own thoughts for too long, and I'd get in my own head about every little abstract thing. It was yet another marvelous thing that came with regular insomnia – that I was alone with my thoughts a lot, giving me plenty of time to ponder what-ifs and critique my own bullshit.

The power of hindsight helped me be meaner to myself than I already was.

Seeing that Mister Summers didn't seem to be leaving without me spilling some semblance of my guts, I tried my hand at just that, "I mean... at least whenever things are loud, I know something screwed up is going on. When it's quiet? Well, it feels like stuff is happening that I'm just not there for. But I somehow know it'll come around and bite me when I let my guard down."

That might have been the paranoia that came with a lack of proper sleep. I'd been told way back when, that even if my body didn't need the rest, my brain did. But even if it was paranoia, it wasn't particularly wrong. Most things that had happened to us lately came out of nowhere. We didn't get tips that let us head things off at the pass. We got hit by whatever the people who wanted to hurt us were planning, and then had to react.

It looked like Mister Summers knew what I was talking about, when he spoke up again, "A word of advice? That's how you end up with stress grays before you're 30. I know trying to relax is easier said than done, but the job is taxing enough without worrying about the things you can't control. Take it from me."

And I did. Because it had credibility coming from him.

If anyone could understand how FUBAR things could get at a moment's notice, it would have to be the guy who'd been leading X-Men teams for the last decade-plus. There had been nothing that Mister Summers hadn't seen or had to deal with at some point. If he was telling me to chill out, it was likely in my best interests to listen. That seemed to be the rule of thumb for a lot of what he had to say to me.

He'd been mentoring me for a while, giving me as much hands-on feedback, advice, and instruction as he could since he'd dumped me into the position I was in.

"You've got a lot of potential," Mister Summers said, thinking he was encouraging me, "I can see you're working your ass off to live up to it."

And there it was.

The silence that hung in the air in the library just seemed to make me angry. But it wasn't like I could just flip on the guy because he triggered me. He didn't know. It wasn't like I made it a habit of telling the people around me what my buttons were.

I swallowed in trepidation of the answer to my forthcoming question, "What do you all want from me?"

"Depends on who we're talking about," Mister Summers coolly replied.

"Any of you," I almost snapped, "Take your pick."

My belligerent attitude resulted in a staredown that I backed down from in the end. Cyclops wasn't the one to try that sort of thing with. Good to have that reconfirmed.

He didn't have to humor me, but he did, "Alright. Well, I'll give you a few. Emma, despite what you may think, just wants you to be safe. That manifests itself in trying to make sure you're as prepared as possible. Piotr, he wants you to be strong. He's seen and felt firsthand just how much this can take away from you. Things are going to happen to you that are going to hurt, and I'm not talking physically. You've gotten few tastes of that by now."

Yeah. Enough to know that I didn't want anything like it to happen again, but not enough to think I'd seen the worst. This guy had actually seen 16 million mutants get obliterated in Genosha. I didn't have anything on that on the 'shitty things happening around me' scale. When it came to the trauma Olympics, he won by a large margin. That wasn't saying much though; my life had been cushy and carefree until my powers manifested.

"And what about you?" I asked. He had been the one to stick me with leadership. It would behoove me, after all, to know what his endgame was.

Mister Summers smiled the kind of smile that I hated seeing, yet had been forced to look at more and more lately. The kind of a grim, 'what can you do?' sort of acceptance, "What do you think the life expectancy of this job is, Bellamy? That's not directed at you. It's more for me," He specified, taking a moment to actually think about his own question, "...I've been doing this since I was a teenager. How much longer do you think I'm going to cheat death or get lucky?"

When he let out a sigh, for once I didn't see the indomitable leader. I didn't see the guy who never flinched, even in the face of being tortured by aliens, or being sucked into the vacuum of space to die. I didn't see the guy who stood stoically, even at a funeral for dozens of students. He looked tired, and I had to stop and think about just how young he still was.

The guy wasn't even 30 yet.

Mister Summers momentarily lifted his visor, keeping his eyes shut as he rubbed them, "Eventually, I'm going to run into the psycho that can put me down. Eventually, some asshole organization is going to get their ducks in enough of a row to take me out. And even if there isn't a bullet necessarily with my name on it... well, you were there to see what Kitty did. She wasn't the first to make the sacrifice play. She won't be the last."

He meant himself.

"And you're okay with that?" I couldn't help but blurt out.

"That's not really a question I can answer until it's right in front of me, is it?" Mister Summers said, "But what I know I'm not okay with is neglecting the next ones in line."

I let out an incredulous laugh, disbelief coloring my voice, "So, I'm next man up?" If that was what he was telling me, we were all screwed.

He found it just as funny as I probably should have, "Oh, God no. There's at least two generations of X-Men to get through before your name would ever come up," He laughed, "But that doesn't mean I can ignore it when I see it. If I had to put money on it, I would say without question you will be next man up. One day, anyway."

"Hooray," I deadpanned.

And who wouldn't be excited? If my trajectory was anything like his, I could expect to watch several friends die, have my significant other (the SAME significant other) die twice on my watch, be front-and-center for multiple racial atrocities, and all of the other assorted horseshit that came with hanging around the X-Men for too long.

I say that, and yet, I had every opportunity to leave. I could have carried my ass back to San Francisco to never be heard from again anytime I wanted, but I never did. Good or bad, what did that say about me?

"I'd tell you to get some rest, but that would be a moot point," Mister Summers got up and placed a supportive hand on my shoulder, "Remember, all you need is the serenity to accept the things you cannot change, the courage to change the things you can, and the wisdom to know the difference."

I squinted up at him trying to remember where I'd heard that before. It took me a moment to place it, "...Did you just quote Alcoholics Anonymous at me?"

Mister Summers raised both eyebrows behind his visor in minor surprise, "Not going to ask why you know that, but yes," He cleared his throat before making an effort to save face, "Ahem. Good talk."

Nice recovery, boss.

XxX

The last few days prior to the winter break were pretty peaceful. I almost wished something would have happened so that I could have tried to finagle something to get out of having to take my calculus exam. But alas, nothing.

Every student leaving for the break said their goodbyes and went their separate ways, myself included. This time, Laura wasn't coming home with me. Instead, she and Mister Logan were going to try some bonding time.

A curious part of me kind of wanted to hang around to see what that would look like.

This time, however, one of my other female teammates would accompany me. Hisako would be with me for the cross-country flight to the west coast. The arrangement was that she would hang out with me for a day, then catch a connecting flight to Japan. She'd get there a few days before Christmas.

We settled into our seats on the plane and got comfortable for what was going to be a 6 hour trip, "I can't believe you actually agreed to this when I floated it out there. You know you're going to be stuck with me until your next flight takes off."

Hisako settled in next to me, getting herself situated before the person in the same row as us would eventually arrive, "I don't care. I did the whole trip in one go last time," She hugged herself upon remembering the seemingly unpleasant experience, "Ugh. 16 straight hours, all alone. Never again. I'd rather split it up and hang around with you in the meantime."

"Aww..." I teased.

"Shut up," Hisako shoved me half-heartedly, "Are you sure I can have the aisle seat?"

"I'm sure you have a better chance of going to go to the bathroom than me, so yes," I told her, "I guarantee once this plane takes off, I'm not getting up," I gestured my head to the empty seat on my other side, "Don't need the window seat either since I don't sleep."

Hisako feigned amazement, "Ooh, you're such a tough guy."

I smirked and played into her attempt at sarcasm, "That's what my mommy says. Speaking of which, my parents better not ask anything stupid, like if I'm dating you. That shit was annoying when Laura came to stay."

Bringing up Laura, Hisako took a moment to think to herself, "Wait. Bel, do your parents even know you have a new girlfriend?" I didn't answer, instead turning my eyes away from her. My silence spoke volumes, even as the announcement that we were about to take off rang out, "...They don't. You've got to be kidding me. You've been dating for weeks."

I was quick to defend myself, "That's not that long!" Still, Hisako didn't stop glaring at me, "It never came up!"

Hisako's glare turned slightly to a look of disbelief as we buckled up, "How did it never come up? You talk to them at least once a week. You're telling me none of the talks you had wound up like, 'Yeah, mom and dad, my grades are good. Oh, and do you remember that girl with claws from last summer? Yeah, she's really great. I've been sticking it to her since the middle of November.'"

I held up a hand to stop her, "First of all, never say 'sticking it to' in that context again," It just didn't sound right coming from her. She wasn't supposed to talk like that, "Second of all, catching them up on the last time I almost died seemed a more pressing update since it happens every week," Hisako frowned, but nodded, conceding that point, "That, and I know my dad's gonna eat when it comes to making fun of me when he finds out."

He was going to think it was hilarious. The old man thought it was weird that nothing was going on between us back then. My mom though, she was never entirely convinced that there hadn't been something going on between Laura and me.

If I had to explain to her that I hadn't been cheating on Megan with Laura to my own mom the way I had to explain to classmates... Jesus, how awkward would that be?

Hisako had no sympathy for my potential parental plight, "Well, that's what you get for being a man-whore."

"I am not a man-whore," I argued, "I've only been with two girls all year."

"Two in six months, actually," Hisako corrected, getting a dig in her side from my elbow for her troubles, "What's the magic number to make you a man-whore then?"

"I dunno. Definitely more than two," I started doing math in my head as we took off, using my fingers to count and utilizing reasonable estimations to actually come up with a formula, "I guess if we're going by six months as the timeframe, I'd say four. And that's if real relationships and sleeping with them is the criteria we're using. What do you think?" I looked up when I didn't receive a reaction for what even I considered an idiotic statement, "Hisako?"

She was still next to me, but wasn't moving. It was like she was frozen in time. In fact, it wasn't just her.

In the time it took me to do my asinine math, our ascent had gone smoothly and we could now move freely around the cabin, but no one was. I looked around to see that everyone on the plane seemed to be frozen the exact same way - passengers and attendants alike. Even the Federal Air Marshal put on the flight to watch us, because mutants, wasn't moving.

Actually, I was wrong. Someone was moving around. Footsteps fell and eventually I saw pink hair in a slicked-back mohawk and a 'please-punch-me' smirk.

Quentin goddamn Quire.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," I muttered to myself and started headbutting the back of the seat in front of me, "How. Are. You. Not. At. School."

Quire chuckled smugly and gestured arms wide, "Hey, I'm a student. I'm entitled to a vacation too, Marcher."

"You tried to start a race riot on campus last year," I snapped back, "You're a criminal."

I hated how cool he was trying to play this. He wasn't cool. He was an antagonistic pain, a habitual line-stepper, and he got off on pushing people's buttons. It was a trait that it seemed a lot of psychics shared. I guess it was an easy adrenaline rush when you could literally read someone's mind to see what would needle them the most, then use it against them.

"Never had a single charge filed against me," Quire said, still grinning as widely as ever, "Just being a pain for the faculty isn't enough to call me a criminal."

They'd somehow managed to get jurisdiction after Quire's riot back in the day. I'm guessing it was because the only person who was killed in it was a student, so authorities didn't waste their time with it. We were only mutants, after all. That, and because Quire had wound up as primordial ooze afterwards until recently.

"Yeah, I bet the Cuckoos think so too," I felt a sense of satisfaction at wiping the smile off of his face with my own words, reminding him of his most costly failure.

"Watch your mouth, Marcher," Quire warned with a glare.

The plane shook and suddenly dipped. I death-gripped my seat until just as quickly, everything leveled out. Being the only one in the moment, I was the only one who reacted. Quire didn't seem surprised at all, "What was that?"

"A warning," He said, "You see, I could have this plane drop out of the sky whenever I want, with you on it."

I didn't bother mentioning that he was also on it, as he probably figured he could get himself out cleanly, "-But?"

Quire feigned confusion, "But what? What if this is just how I plan on killing you?"

I gave him a dry look, "I would say you had like a thousand ways to do it less complex than getting on the same flight as me and telepathically highjacking it. What do you want?"

"I say this for now. I'll let this plane go on its way nice and easy," Quire squeezed past me and plopped down in the window seat on my other side, reclining his seat all the way back, "I'll let you have your lame little winter break in peace. I just need a day or two of your time."

I still wasn't sure if I could beat him, and in the middle of a crowded plane mid-flight wasn't the place to test my might. Knowing when to fight was just as important as anything else, and I could try to play ball for a while until I got an opening.

...I'd hoped I hadn't thought that too loudly. Though, he probably didn't need to be able to read my mind to know where my head was.

"Fine," I said, agreeing to go along with the program without a fuss, "Now, what do you want?"

Quire's smarmy expression returned, but I didn't pay it any mind. Not in lieu of the words that followed, "We're going to pay a visit to the greatest mutant ever. You and I are going to see Magneto."

Wait. Wasn't that guy dead?

Laura Kinney – "What I Cannot Give Myself"

I didn't think Bellamy despised anyone enough to hate them. Usually, it was because when we came across enemies that could evoke that emotion from him, he has little hesitation about fighting to kill. But there were some people that he didn't like, yet couldn't do anything about short of avoiding them... because they were supposedly on his side.

I am told that Julian Keller used to be one of those people, but eventually they became something approaching friends. That was achieved over time through understanding and compromise. The same goes, more or less, for Emma Frost. Not quite the same, however, because she holds a position of authority.

There was one person at Xavier's that Bellamy for certain quite detested – Jay Guthrie. Well, for the time being, at least. He was to be taken home, and would likely not be returning.

It was... difficult to ascertain the mood of the student body about this. Many pitied him, as he had been taken advantage of. Many others wanted something done to him, as his actions had resulted in deaths of mutant children and had put the rest of us in mortal danger.

But, then again, Bellamy had always encouraged me to form my own opinion about things. I was not meant to agree with the way he or anyone else saw things simply because someone held a position of influence over me.

To that end, I sought Jay out. It was easy to find him. He still smelled faintly of the substance that Dr. Roekel had injected him with.

I opened the door to the roof of one of the student dormitories to find Jay sitting by the ledge alone, staring out over the campus grounds. Even though it was snowing, the cold did not seem to bother him.

I made my approach obvious by crunching snow under my boots to avoid the chance of confrontation. He spared me half a glance before turning his attention back to our surroundings.

There was an air of melancholy around him. One I was very familiar with. It made reaching out to him feel less awkward than initiating many of my other interactions did.

"Hello," I offered in greeting.

It was this that surprised him; that anyone reached out to him at all, "What are you doing here?"

I shoved my hands in the pockets of my coat, "I came to talk."

"Huh," Jay hummed, "Never took you for much of a conversationalist," I didn't blame him. Beyond standard greetings, I was still finding my footing when it came to speaking with others for anything other than interrogation.

"It is not my strong suit," I begrudgingly admitted, "Still..."

Jay scoffed, bitterness in his tone, "Don't know why you'd bother. Haven't you gotten the message. I'm a pariah around here," His despair read clearly on his face, "...Not like it's for no reason."

I did not bother sitting with him. Instead, I stood a comfortable distance away, allowing him his space, "You can see that there is reason for it?"

"Of course I do," Jay snapped, "People were hurt because I was in my own feelings. My teammates, who wanted to be my friends, they were hurt because of me."

All of these were accurate points to make, "Yes."

For the first time since we'd began speaking, Jay turned to me, for some reason alarmed. Why was he surprised? I was agreeing with him, "You aren't going to try and make me feel better?" He asked, sounding conflicted.

"Why would I?" I replied, "You did all of those things; things that put me and the ones I care for in danger."

Confusion gave way to annoyance on Jay's end, "Then why are you here?"

I felt that honesty would be the best way to get the information that I was after, "I want perspective. Understanding," I told him.

At that, annoyance gave way to anger, a reaction I was very used to dealing with from others, "I keep hearing people say that! Everyone says that they understand how I feel, or that they want to! They have no idea what they're talking about!"

I could not help but flinch when Jay snapped at me, "You believe people are patronizing you."

"How could I not?" He shouted back in the silent winter air. With a flap of his wings that blew snow about, he pushed himself to his feet, pointing at me accusingly, "You! Right now! You're doing it too!"

"But I am not," I muttered, kicking myself for feeling so small in the moment. Why did this always happen to me? "When I say that I understand-."

"-How could you ever?" Jay interrupted, hitting himself on the chest, "Julia died because of me! Because she loved me. I should be with her. At the very least, she should be alive instead of me. And I just can't..."

He trailed off, and I knew what he wanted to say, "You can't..."

I knew what he wanted to say, because there were many times I felt the same way about my own past.

Eventually, Jay managed to force it out, "I can't get over it the way everyone wants me to, and I can't just die the way I want to!"

Just like I thought. I closed my eyes and let the gravity of what he'd said sink in for the both of us. Once he'd told me something that I don't believe he'd said out loud to anyone, even family, he seemed mortified, as though I would judge him.

How odd. What place did I have to judge anyone for harboring such thoughts?

"You are right," I admitted with a nod, "Our circumstances are not the same."

"See?" Jay said, as though I had proven his earlier point. He didn't seem as happy about it as he thought he would have.

"Did you kill her yourself?" I asked quietly.

Jay was taken aback by my question, "W-What?"

I repeated myself, expanding on my original query, "Your lover, this Julia, did you kill her yourself?"

Jay clenched his fists. It seemed I had a knack for upsetting him, "Of course not! I loved her! Loved her more than anything in the world!"

"Oh," I simply stood blinking at him as I tried to think of some eloquent way to give my reasoning. I was not the best at such things, and fell back on the blunt truth, "…I killed my mother, you see. That is why I ask. The only person in the world who cared about me, who wanted better for me, and I killed her like the thoughtless animal my creators wanted me to be."

As I spoke, I held up my hand and drew my claws. Jay couldn't take his eyes off of them. He watched them all the way as I pulled my arm from the sleeve of my jacket and cut a deep, long wound. Blood spilled onto the snow beneath us, but just as quickly as the injury was formed, it vanished.

"It helps... sometimes," I said wiping the blood off of my arm and smearing it on the snow. A few scrapes of my boot and it was mixed in with the rest of the white snow surrounding us, "It never fixes anything though."

I hurt myself, time and time again, to punish myself for my failures; for the things I'd done to harm others. My claws were very useful in that regard. Sometimes I still did it. It did not matter, I could heal, after all. I kept it from others as best as I could. Bellamy did not know. Neither did the friends I have made at school. I am certain that Logan knows, however he does not mention it to me.

Once I was finished, I waited for Jay to rebut. It took him quite some time to find the words he wanted. Had I said too much? I couldn't help but feel self-conscious about his reaction.

"You..." Jay started to say before taking a little more time to gather his thoughts, "Jeez. You had to turn this into a competition, didn't you?"

If that was what he thought I had been doing, that was my mistake, "You were the one who insisted that no one could understand," I said, defending myself.

Bellamy had once told me he didn't know anyone who could beat me in the 'Pain Olympics'. I am still not entirely sure what that meant, but I felt it applied.

Perhaps it was my unwillingness to engage him at his level of anger, but as the conversation continued, Jay had visibly settled down. It seemed that he was not the type to take passivity as an opening to be more aggressive.

"Why does any of this even matter to you?" He asked, sounding tired.

Why indeed. Why did I bother? Why did I care at all? From what I understood, Jay would be leaving at winter break, and he wouldn't be returning. It was not my problem. It was soon to be no one's problem but Jay's and his immediate family's.

Even I found myself trying to make sense of my own thoughts and actions. No one had asked me to speak with him. I hadn't sought him out with the intention of easing the mind of anyone else close to me. In a way, I had done it to ease my own mind.

I tried and failed to put my own reasoning into words. It felt like trying to translate a language I was unable to read into another that I barely could, "I suppose I just... wanted to give someone what I cannot give myself. But it does not seem to have helped," I apologized, "I am sorry."

"..." Jay did not reply, and I took that as my dismissal.

With a nod, I began heading back to the stairwell that would take me back downstairs and out of the cold. I felt Jay's gaze linger on my back, but I did not turn to face him again. I had taken up enough time from his solitary reflection for my own selfish reasons.

What did I think I could do to ease someone's mind when I was incapable of doing so for myself?

Julian Keller – "Burning Bridges I'm Still On"

So... treating people like crap for two years has consequences. Who knew?

I used to rule Xavier's. Out of all of the students there to learn how to use their powers, I was the best. I came from the richest family. I had the best, coolest powers, telekinesis. I led the best squad with the strongest kids, the Hellions, led by the best teacher, Emma Frost.

Times were good. We might have bumped heads with a few of the others that didn't understand their place, but who cared? When you were top dog, it was natural to have to deal with jealousy.

But somewhere along the line, something had changed at school. If losing prestige was a thing, that was what I'd say happened. Slowly but surely, so slowly, I didn't see it until the process was complete, the Hellions weren't the it-team anymore, and I wasn't the big man on campus.

All of a sudden, no one paid attention, no matter how much noise I made. It didn't seem like anything I and my team had done could measure up to what someone else was usually into. People didn't get out of my way in the hall. They didn't stop and take a glance when me and my friends came walking through. Cess and Santo, they didn't seem to notice, but I did. It never mattered to them as much as it did to me. It was almost like we were just like everyone else.

I couldn't tell you when it started, but I could tell you when I realized that I'd lost my spot. When it was announced that a new X-Men roster would be formed with the best of all of the active student squads I figured I was on the short list of people who would be picked to lead it. I mean, who else was there?

The Cuckoos weren't independent enough thinkers to make clutch calls in the field. Match was okay with the Paragons, but was 'meh' at best with leading. I thought Sofia was just the greatest, but the fact that she and Prodigy had to split leadership of the New Mutants to make the whole thing work? Hah, dead on arrival from that moment on. None of them were getting it.

The only real competition I had out of the existing leaders was the aforementioned 'someone else'. Marcher, Solaris, of the Paladins. I could admit, he was capable of doing the work. He had proved he had the stomach for the life, and had what it took when the action started, but I always figured when it came down to it, I would get the nod. For fuck's sake, I had an in with the headmistress. I literally picked my codename because of her.

The weirdest thing though? When it was announced that Marcher would be the guy, I wasn't even mad. It wasn't like I hated the guy. Sure, we were at each others throats when he first showed up, but when that mellowed out we started getting along more and hanging out.

He was actually cool. And he wasn't soft. You didn't have to watch your words around him, in case you offended him. If you gave him a hard time, he'd give it right back to you just as hard. It was right up my alley.

A lot of the time, whenever we were in some kind of common area, if we were eating lunch with the others, even just walking between classes, students would come up to us; to him. After one time in particular when we were stopped outside, I called it out.

"Why do these losers like you so much?" I asked as we parted ways from the group of younger students that had come up to us.

Marcher looked back and mouthed an apology to them before he answered me, "Well, first of all, it probably helps that I don't call them losers. Seriously, what the hell?"

Like it really mattered to him. On any given day, you could find his surly ass glowering around campus just as easily as not. The other day at lunch, he'd caught Hope Abbott glaring a hole through him and stared her back down until she got uncomfortable and left the room.

"Whatever," I said, "You're just as big of a jerk as I am."

For some reason, Marcher thought that was funny and laughed, "Okay, I hate myself, and even I wouldn't say that much. You used to be an actual bully. Like, the mutant version of the bad guy from 80's ski movies, " He joked, "I'm surprised you never asked anyone if they know who your dad is, or threatened to tear down the community center."

I wasn't a bully. Anyone who had been around the school could tell you that the whole place operated like a food chain. I had to assert my place at the top. That was all.

"Who did I bully?" I asked, challenging him to provide examples.

Marcher looked at me like he thought I was an idiot, "Can I just point out all the obvious ones, or do I have to dip into the more obscure ones? Because right off the top of my head, there's Nori, then there's me."

I hoped I didn't wince. I still hadn't settled things with Ashida after the little episode we'd had in the Danger Room, and I didn't want to touch anything involving her with a ten-foot pole, but Marcher had been the one to bring it up, "You and Ashida fought back."

"That doesn't make it not bullying," Marcher said, "All I remember about meeting you is you getting pissy that I talked to your girl, who wasn't even your girl yet, by the way. Even if she was, it still would have been some toxic b.s. the way you handled it."

I remembered it perfectly. I thought Marcher was trying to look tough in hand-to-hand combat class and get over with Sofia. I'd meant to push him around a bit to put him in his place, "And then you shot me."

Marcher nodded, confirming the chain of events, "And then I shot you. And I like to think we all learned an important lesson that day."

I sure did, "Always learn someone's powers before you start something," I said.

Marcher was far from impressed, "I'd hoped the lesson was not starting things at all, but some progress is better than none, I guess," He replied, "The point is, you treated people like garbage for a long time, and that trickles down. No one cares who you are. It's what you do that matters."

Of all the lame, cliché tripe that could have come out of someone's mouth. I wouldn't have expected it from him of all people.

"I wonder how you're juggling three jobs and school. X-Man, R.A., now you're the spare guidance counselor? Impressive," I scoffed, "Miss me with that elementary school, 'character counts' shit, please."

Marcher didn't get defensive at all, "Sure. As soon as you can give me an actual reason why out of everyone in this school, a grand total of five can stand being around you for longer than a few minutes at a time."

"They're jealous because I'm rich."

"You're not rich anymore."

"Because I'm the strongest mutant at school then."

"Try again once you're done telekinetically patting yourself on the back."

What did he want me to say? That once you stripped all of the other stuff away from me – the money, my power, my leadership position – there was a distinct lack of positive traits about me? It wasn't like I didn't know that.

I wasn't smart like Alleyne. I wasn't a funny, nice guy that everyone liked, the way Wing was. I didn't even command respect from others like Marcher did.

"What can I say?" I eventually said, "I'm an expert at burning bridges I'm still on."

"Yeah. It's great that you can admit that. Self-awareness is dope," Marcher said, patronizingly. I wanted to chuck him into the air, "You want to know something though? Just being aware that you're a douchebag doesn't make you a better person. You still have to fix it."

A good idea. Not something I felt like putting the time and effort into though, "I'm not going to spend the rest of my time here kissing hands and shaking babies."

Marcher shook his head, "You don't have to. Just develop a sense of empathy. Whenever you interact with someone, stop and take a moment to think, 'Would I like it if someone treated me like this?'" He looked at me incredulously, "I shouldn't have to tell you this. They teach the golden rule in kindergarten for Christ's sake."

I shoved my hands in my pockets and looked down, "I shouldn't even care."

"But you do."

I just couldn't help but keep thinking back. Ashida. In the Danger Room, when she'd yelled at me, the look in her eyes. I'd never seen that kind of raw hatred directed at me before. That kind of emotion, I had caused that. It wasn't some prejudiced, faceless human yahoo with a single brain cell who could only think 'mutant bad'. She was a person that I knew. A real girl. Not one that I was particularly fond of, to be sure, but did it matter?

Even after she'd first shown up at school, what had she done to get me to treat her the way I did? Was I as hard on her as others? Was I worse and just didn't see them break down in front of me the way Ashida did?

It was all too much to think about, and honestly, I didn't want to. It made me feel a bit sick. I didn't like thinking that I was the bad guy, but the harder I thought about it, the harder it was to convince myself that I was just a top guy doing top guy things, instead of some superpowered prick terrorizing other kids.

It all weighed heavy in my mind. I had to get it out in the open, "Before, you said you thought I could be a good person. Did you really mean that?"

Marcher, either not being aware of what was going on in my head, or not caring, gave me a sour look, "Please don't tell me we're having a moment here. I'm just trying to get you to not be such a dick, dude."

"Answer the fucking question, would you?"

"Yes, Julian. I think you can be," Marcher said. And right before I could start feeling a bit better about myself, Marcher pulled a Marcher, making his response as backhanded as possible, "And I think that one day I won't have to hold your leash or have the other Hellions do it for you to keep you from pissing on everyone's rug. But the fact that you're asking me any of this proves we're still a long way away from that."

"Huh..." I hummed to myself. Reaching out with my powers I grabbed Marcher with my TK and threw him off of the sidewalk into a nearby snowdrift, "...Well, some progress is better than none."

You thought you was gonna get a vacation, son? Nah! We don't do vacations around here! Vacations are for the weak! Family is for the weak! Rest is for the weak! Suffer and struggle for my amusement! Err... I mean, for my readers' collective amusement! Yeah!

So, that's the chapter. I've not got much to say this time around, guys. I hope you enjoyed.

Kenchi out.