AN: I'm back again and in record time too! So happy with how this chapter went. Hope you're all eager to see the exciting conclusion to the Excelsior Practical Exam!
To all of those who are reading, thank you all so much. If you're following this story, I'd love it if you could give me a favorite as well. It does wonders for my moral and I always love to see that people are enjoying Excelsior. And please feel free to leave a review. They make me so very happy :)
As always, eternal thanks go to my lovely beta annbe11. If anyone here has a hankering for an Aladdin fic, she just started a really great one called Of Rats and Royals, an exciting adventure of a young Aladdin and Jasmine trying to last the night on the mean streets of Agrabah. Be sure to check it out!
With that said, on with the show!
Chapter 11 - The Results Are In…
The first thing Peter became aware of was the pain. Pain blared at him from everywhere. His lungs refused to work and he struggled to take a breath. Any movement sent a huge spike of pain through his head. He couldn't remember what had hit him or why he was laying down like he was now. Something at the back of his mind, however, told him that he needed to keep moving. Standing still would make him fail.
Fail? Fail what?
It took a few seconds for Peter to remember the practical exam. He was still in it. He still needed to try and get into SLA. That thought made him grit his teeth. He needed to move, not lie down. Lying down meant failing. He tried to push himself up and suddenly everything started spinning, wobbling in and out of focus as he saw double. He didn't even make it to his knees before slumping down again, wheezing for breath. Peter blinked, trying to pull the world back into focus, before the two different images managed to come back together.
"Get the fuck out of my way, Parker!" Someone's shout made it through the cloud on his senses. A moment later, a blurred shape leapt over Peter's prone body before running straight at the Kraken. Peter stared after them, desperately trying to focus.
"Eu-…Eugene?" Peter whispered incredulously.
Flash Thompson charged toward the front of the ship, jumping over tentacles and pushing past students until he was running along the wooden beam at the front of the ship.
The giant sea monster roared again, making the ship's deck rumble and Peter's head ache even more.
Instead of backing down, Flash let out his own roar of challenge as he jumped from the prow, the strength of his leap carrying him straight at the Kraken's head. When he was close enough, he reared back his fist and punched the creature right between the eyes.
The Kraken's entire head turned into a crater. It's answering roar was cut off with a sound like the loudest wet cough ever. It's many tentacles suddenly jerked before they crashed limply upon the deck. For a moment, the monster stilled, leaving Flash crouched and panting on its face, his fist still embedded inside the monster. Then the Kraken exploded into pixels and Flash fell out of sight. Peter stared, his mouth hanging agape at what he had just seen.
"Holy shit…" someone said from somewhere behind him.
Woah.
Peter had known Eugene was strong, but this was something else. He was suddenly thankful that Flash had spent all those years mostly just shoving Peter into lockers.
At least with the kraken gone, the boat was no longer shaking. Peter tried climbing to his hands and knees again. He still could not remember what it was that had put him here. As he moved, he felt another weight moving on his back. He blinked in surprise before looking in his peripheral vision. He was puzzled by the locks of long hair that rested on his shoulder. He didn't have long red hair, did he?
His brain began to catch up and he remembered the pretty red-haired girl, the one he had met earlier and that he had saved from falling over the side of the ship. He probably still needed to check on her, make sure she was okay and didn't hate him anymore.
"Guh… guh…" he heard someone saying. It sounded like it was coming from right next to him. He glanced over toward the girl again, trying to figure out if she was the one making such an odd noise.
That was when he saw the bloodstains on his shoulder.
He stared at them uncomprehendingly for a long moment before he swallowed hard and snapped up straight. His brain screamed at such rough treatment, but he couldn't stop to think about that now. The girl could be hurt.
The girl flopped limply away from him but was still stuck to his back. He remembered the webline he had tied around them, something about 'safety first'. His hands went for the knot, his fingers shaking as he struggled to untie the two ends. Had he really tied it this tight?
"No time," he said to himself before he just grabbed the webline and pulled it in opposite directions. It stretched and resisted, so much so that his arms began to tremble, but the webline eventually tore. With that, his passenger was free. Peter immediately spun, ignoring the pain, and caught the girl before she could fall. He gently lowered her to the ground and rolled her onto her back.
What he saw brought him painfully back to reality.
"Guh… guh…" gurgled the red-haired girl, struggling to breathe through her mouth. Blood practically gushed from her nose and Peter was shocked to see trails of blood dripping from her eyes and even her ears. Her pupils were dilated so wide that he couldn't even see her irises and they were staring forward blankly. Her limbs were shaking, erratically twitching this way and that.
"Oh no! Oh god!" Peter said in a panic, bending over her. The movement made his vision swim, but he fought to focus on her face. He tried to think of something he could do, but no health class or first-aid course could have possible prepared him for this situation.
"Someone call a doctor!" he shouted, looking back at all the examinees who were still on the ship, forgetting that no one had a phone in the exam.
Luckily, just then the buzzer rang out to signal the end of the Entrance Exam. Peter's cries for a doctor were interrupted by a loud BAMF!
"Gah!" cried, Peter, flailing back from the burst of dark smoke that had appeared right in front of him. As the smoke cleared, he saw a demonic looking figure crouching over the girl, looking down at her with glowing yellow eyes. Peter scrambled clumsily to his feet, trying to ready himself to lunge at this new attacker, when Peter suddenly recognized him. He was the pro hero Nightcrawler, a teacher at this academy.
"Scharlachrot, mein Gott," Nightcrawler said, his voice thick with worry. He looked up at Peter and nodded to him. "Thank you. Wait one moment." He bundled the girl into his arms and there was another burst of smoke before the both of them disappeared. Peter blinked at the empty space for a few seconds, absolutely lost, before there was another BAMF heralding Nightcrawler's return. "You're coming with me, too," he said before grabbing Peter by the shoulders.
BAMF!
In the blink of an eye, the galleon had vanished. In its place, Peter found himself kneeling on the linoleum floor of a sterile white room.
Peter blinked for a moment. He wasn't suffering from as much double vision as he had before, but it was still a little difficult to focus. And there was so much happening. Two people were clustered around a raised table where the red-haired girl lay. An aging woman wearing a hijab and a white robe was wiping the girl's face clean while a bearded man with a high collared coat stood at the head of the table, pressing his hands against the top of her head and closing his eyes. From across the room came a woman in scrubs, her hair done into long cornrow braids tied back in a pony tail, dragged an oxygen tank behind her before she pressed the rubber mask over red-hair girl's nose and mouth.
"How is she doing?" asked the second woman in a clipped tone.
"No serious damage," said the man, shaking his head. "I'm healing the hemorrhage points now, but she's not out of the woods yet. There's major overuse on her Quirk and her brain."
"Alright," responded the woman. "Do what you can. I'll measure her oxygen supply."
Peter decided this must be some sort of medical area. It was a large square shaped room with numerous beds arranged the wall with screens around them. An offshoot doorway let into a similar looking room and a slightly ajar closet door showed an array of medical equipment ready for use
By this point the woman with the hijab had taken notice of him and Nightcrawler and hurried over as fast as she was able.
"What's wrong here, Kurt?" she asked, bending closer to get a look at Peter.
"Concussion. A bad one," Nightcrawler responded. "He hit the ceiling at high speed. Can you take care of him? I need to get back to the Professor."
The woman nodded, prompting Nightcrawler to disappear with one last BAMF.
"Always rushing about, that one," she said with a shake of her head. She extended her hands to Peter and smiled. "Come along, dear. Let me get a look at you."
After a moment of hesitation, Peter took her hands and stood. She scrutinized his face for a moment before pulling a penlight from her pocket. She shone it in each of his eyes for a moment before tutting to herself.
"Yup, that's a concussion alright." She lifted her hand to cover one of his eyes and held up a finger. "Follow my finger. What's your name?"
"Um… Peter. Peter Parker," he responded, following her movement. She nodded and covered his other eye before repeating the action.
"Where do you live, Peter?"
"I live in The Burbs. With my Aunt May."
After that, she pulled him over to a chair against the wall and continued testing him, checking his concentration and memory. Thankfully, he was able to answer all the questions she asked him.
All through it, Peter kept finding his eyes drawn back to the red-haired girl, who had been moved to a bed against the wall and now seemed to be sleeping peacefully. The two doctors who were working on her had backed off but were still coming to check on her occasionally. That was good because other teens were starting to trickle in, each sporting some kind of injury.
"Alright, looks like no damage to the brain that I can tell," his doctor said, giving Peter a smile. "We should have you out soon." She turned over her shoulder. "Josh! Where are you?"
"Coming, Dr. Hussain!"
Into the room ran a boy a few years older than Peter with gold skin. Actual metallic reflective gold skin. He was wearing a pair of light green scrubs and had a stethoscope around his neck.
"What can I do?" he said with a smile.
"This boy has a concussion," Dr. Hussain said, indicating Peter, "but I can't find any signs of cognitive damage. Go ahead and take care of him. I have to see to some of the other incoming patients."
"Yes ma'am," Josh said with a nod. As Dr. Hussain moved on, Josh stepped up and looked down toward Peter. "Hiya Peter, my name is Josh. I'm a student assistant here and Dr. Hussain is my mentor. I'd like to use my quirk to heal you, but I need your permission first. So uh… do I?"
"Do you, what?" Peter asked.
"Do I have permission to heal you?"
"Oh, sure. Yeah," Peter said. It would be nice to stop feeling like a complete idiot.
Josh nodded and placed a hand on top of Peter's head. An instant later, it was like the whole world suddenly snapped into focus. It was so sudden that Peter gasped in surprise. At the same time, he felt incredibly tired. Maybe the day was finally catching up with him?
"Alright, that should take care of any pain you might have," Josh said, lowering his arm. "However, my Quirk uses your own energy to speed your healing, so you're gonna feel a little drained." He paused a moment and winced. "Crap, I probably should have mentioned that to you first. Sorry." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a container before shaking out some gummy snacks into Peter's hand. "Take these for a little burst of energy, but make sure you eat a big dinner tonight. Other than that, you're good to go. Hope you did well on the exam." Josh flashed Peter a peace sign. "Take it easy while you can," he said before turning and walking off to see to some of the other students.
Peter waved to the other boy's back and ate the gummies. They really did make him feel better. After he finished them, he stood up. Just as he was about to leave the door into the medical room was abruptly shoved open, by Peter's mentor. Despite his hat and glasses, Mr. Stark was immediately recognizable to Peter.
"Kid!" Tony said as he hurriedly crossed the room, skipping around one of the other doctors and one of the new patients. "Kid, you okay?" he asked when he made it to Peter's side.
"I-I'm okay, Mr. St-"
"Good," Tony interrupted before Peter could finish his sentence, giving a side eye to the examinees still trickling into the hospital room. Peter immediately recognized his thinking and mentally kicked himself for almost blurting out who Tony was. Tony turned back to Peter and let out a relieved breath before giving him a slap on the shoulder. "Good, good, good. That's one less thing for your aunt to kill me over." Tony sighed and scratched the back of his head. "Kid, this is the second time I've had to come find you in the hospital. I don't want this to become a habit, alright?"
"I'll… I'll try," Peter said.
"You better," Tony said with a nod before he hesitated. "But I think that this time, it's… it's probably best that we don't mention this to your aunt. Y'know, just keep this on the down low, since you're not hurt anymore. Have they set you free yet?"
"Oh, yeah," Peter said with a nod. "I can go."
"Cool. Let's go grab your stuff and head back home. I'll get you some celebratory cheeseburgers on the way." Tony gave Peter another pat on the shoulder before walking off, leaving his mentee to follow.
As he left with Tony, Peter saw that two elderly men were now on either side of the red-haired girl's bed, both of whom were looking at her with a mixture of worry and relief. They were immediately recognizable as Charles Xavier, the headmaster of SLA, and the pro hero Magneto. Peter was particularly amazed to see the later of the two. Magneto had been moving back and forth among the Pro Hero Top Ten for decades before he abruptly retired from active duty the previous year. Peter felt the overwhelming desire to go say something to them, but Tony grabbed him by the scruff of his jacket and hurried him from the room before Peter even had a chance.
As they both walked out of the medical room, Peter felt a great weariness weigh down on him. It had been a very long day, he decided, and he really wanted to go home.
Two Weeks Later
"So, however redundant it may be to say, Jean," said the Professor's holographic image, "welcome to the Stan Lee Academy of Heroic Studies."
The disk-shaped projector shut off and Jean's room was darkened yet again. She stared at spot in the air where the Professor's image had been. She was still scarcely able to believe what she had just listened to. Her lips were stuck in a wide, disbelieving smile as tears trailed down her cheeks. She pinched her arm and was so happy to feel the sting.
She had done it. She had passed the test. She was now a true SLA student.
"YES!" she cried, leaping from her bed and dancing in the middle of her room. She had so much energy right now she didn't even know what to do with it. She felt like she could ride her bike to the city and back without breaking a sweat.
When her impromptu dance number ended, she turned back around to sit on her bed. The envelope that had held the hologram disk had also come with another piece of paper that turned out to be her official letter of acceptance. That was something she was going to frame the first chance she got. The disk had a slot with a small flash drive in the side of it, and according to the letter that drive held all the other forms she would need to fill out and return, like uniform orders, costume request forms, and a list of requirements for moving into her new dorm room. Obviously, that wouldn't be too different from her current dorm life, but still!
Jean sat up and turned in place, looking at all the parts of this room she had lived in for nearly ten years. She'd be moving into her class dorm building when fall came. It would be a big new start for her and the other Wards.
That thought made Jean pause to think. If she had her results, then that meant the others probably had their results too. She had no doubts that Scott and the others would make the cut to be heroes, but she still wanted to make sure. She grabbed her letter of acceptance and left her room at a run, taking the grand stairs two at a time when she reached the main hall.
The other Wards were already gathered when Jean burst into their favorite study. They turned as one to look at her as she stood panting in the doorway. Scott stood up from his chair and watched her with trepidation.
"Did… did you get your results, Jean?" he asked.
Jean just gave a breathless smile before holding up her acceptance letter.
"Yes!" Scott cheered. He ran up to Jean and hugged her tight and spinning her around. "Thank God! I knew you could do it!"
"Thanks Scott!" Jean laughed as she hugged Scott back, entirely missing the look that Jubilee and Kevin shared. When Scott put her down, he gave her a kiss on the cheek before the two of them sat at the table, Jean trying not to blush.
"We all made it," Scott said with a smile. "We're all going to be heroes."
"Congrats on the top spot, Slim," Kevin said, leaning back in his chair. "I'm sure that's gonna get you lots of bright shiny internships."
"We all did our best, Kevin," said Jean, smiling at the other boy. "That's all anyone can ask for."
"Hnh," Piotr said with an almost imperceptible nod.
"Yeah, we kicked ass out there," said Jubilee, lacing her fingers over her head and slowly stretching, revealing more of her midriff from beneath her crop top. "But now we gotta just keep on kicking more ass," Jubilee said when she finished stretching. "We gotta make sure Class B knows who's on top, right?"
All the boys, even Piotr, nodded in agreement.
Jean blinked. "Wait… did you say Class B?" she asked hesitantly.
"Yeah," said Jubilee, looking at her flatly. "What about it?"
Jean blinked again and looked at her letter. Surely, there had to be some kind of mistake. If everyone was in Class B then she must have read it wrong, right? But no, it was still there. What had before been a joyful promise now seemed to mock her. She suddenly felt like she might be ill.
"Jean?" said Scott. "Are you okay?"
Jean looked up at him, feeling confused and lost. "I'm… I'm in Class A."
There was a beat of silence all around the table.
"What?!" snapped Scott, yanking the letter out of Jean's hand to read it for himself. Jean flexed her empty fingers before clasping them in her lap, not sure what to do.
"Well…" said Kevin, tapping his gloved fingers against the table, "that's unexpected."
"Hmm," hummed Piotr, looking from Jean to the table surface.
"I guess that's just the way it goes," Jubilee said with a shrug. "Don't worry, Jean. I'm sure you'll be fine."
Jean couldn't pull together enough awareness to respond to that before she heard the rasp of crinkling paper. Scott was staring angrily at the letter and crumpling it between his fingers before he suddenly slapped the balled-up letter down so hard that the whole table shook. Everyone watched silently as he glared at the table through his glasses before he stood abruptly and turned away.
"Scott?" Jean asked hesitantly. He didn't respond before storming out of the study and slamming the door behind him.
Peter felt the exhaustion flooding his bones as he trudged up the sidewalk toward his house. It had been a really hard day today and he was so glad it was over. A glance forward showed Aunt May's car parked in the driveway, making Peter smile. Aunt May was home a little early today. Maybe they could watch some TV before dinner. As he walked up the steps to the front door, he idly noticed that the mailbox was full and he eagerly opened it to retrieve the contents. The one on top was a crafts magazine that Aunt May was fond of and Peter glanced over the contents as he unlocked and opened the door.
"I'm home," he said as he came in.
"Welcome home, Peter," Aunt May said. She smiled at him from where she sat at the kitchen table, a huge spread of documents arranged in front of her. "Sorry about the mess. I'm just finishing some paperwork."
"No problem," Peter said, flipping through the mail in his hand as he crossed the living room. "I was thinking that I'd just… just…"
He stopped on the last letter in the stack. It was a cream-colored envelope that was very heavy, feeling like it had something metal inside it. What really grabbed Peter's attention was that it was stamped with the seal of SLA. He silently stared at it for a few more moments before Aunt May walked over to see what had stolen his attention.
"Peter…" Aunt May said. She had an odd expression on her face as looked at the envelope in his hand. "Is that…?"
"Y-yeah…" Peter said with a nod, numbly staring at the line where his name was clearly written. He swallowed before placing the rest of the mail on the kitchen table. "Aunt May," he said after a pause, "I think I'll open this in my room." May nodded in understanding before he turned and slowly climbed the stairs.
As soon as Peter was safely isolated in his room, he reached toward the seal of the envelope with trembling fingers. It took a few tries, but he finally managed to open the envelope. Inside were a shiny metal disk and a folded sheet of office paper. He slid the disk out onto the surface of his bed and no sooner did it land when a light appeared from the top of the disk and projected into the air. The light formed a holographic screen which showed a video of Professor Charles Xavier wearing a beautifully pressed suit. He gave a gentle smile out of the screen towards Peter before he began to speak.
"Greetings, Peter Parker. My name is-"
Suddenly the audio cut out and the image scrambled into static.
"No!" Peter cried. "No no no, come back! Please!" Before Peter's heart could give out from sheer panic, the static stopped and the image changed. Peter stared in confusion. "Mr Stark?" Peter said as he saw an up-close image of Tony, the whole image turning and tilting as he was fussing with a camera. When the camera finally got to the position he wanted, the holographic image of Tony stepped back to sit on a stool. He was in his workshop and was dressed much the same way he had been when Peter had first met him at Stark Tower.
"Hey kid," Tony's image said. "Sorry to interrupt your regularly scheduled message, but I figured I should probably do this one myself." He shifted in his seat and crossed his arms."I'll get the big stuff out of the way first. Congrats. You passed."
Peter suddenly felt all the air leave his body. He bent over his bed, trembling as he struggled to breathe.
I… I did it? I did it?!
"But still, I have a few bits of feedback," continued Tony, reclaiming Peter's attention. "First of all, the written test." He put his hands on his hips and shook his head. "An eighty-nine-point-nine percent, kid? Seriously? You're an embarrassment to child prodigies everywhere. I'm gonna expect to see some A-pluses when you get to SLA. If not, your butt is in detention."
Peter was feeling a strange combo of relief and shame. He had gotten a great score on the written test, which was so hard that most takers failed it, but at the same time he had disappointed Tony. Then the last part of the sentence hit him and he stared curiously at the hologram.
Wait, how is Mr. Stark going to put me in detention?
As if the image could read his thoughts, Tony grinned at him.
"Yup, you're looking at the newest member of the SLA faculty." Tony jerked a thumb toward himself. "That way I can make sure you kids aren't slacking off and causing chaos, y'know?"
Once again, Peter's mouth dropped open. His mind was stuck trying to process the thought of Tony being a teacher at SLA. Would he still be able to juggle his hero duties while teaching entire classes of kids?
"And speaking of chaos, let's talk about your performance during the practical," Tony continued. "All told, you did very well. Scored yourself a nice twenty-three points. That alone would have gotten you enough to pass, however…" Here Tony sighed and shook your head. "That little 'adventure' you had with your new girlfriend scored you some rescue points. Personally, I thought it was more anti-rescue, but the other teachers disagreed, so lucky for you, you earned some bonus points. Overall, you ranked number ten in scores. Just behind some crazy chick with a bow." Tony shook his head again, muttering about what the world was coming to. "Anyway, I think you scored some brownie points with Chuck and Magneto, cause that girl was apparently one of their favorites. She's fine, by the way."
Peter let out another sigh of relief. He had thought about the red-haired girl many times over the last two weeks. He really needed to apologize to her the first chance he got.
"She got some extra points for saving you, too. She managed to stop the both of you in the air and set your down all gentle like. She ended up ranked number eight. Probably because she didn't run smack into the ceiling." He gave Peter a long, suffering stare. "Trust me, we'll be working on your awareness when the school year starts."
Peter scratched his head in embarrassment.
"Finally," Tony said, standing up straight, "you'll be relieved to know that your tuition has been paid in full. All four years. Consider it the first and only Stark Industries Apprentice Hero Scholarship." Tony looked straight out of the screen and gave Peter a smile. Not a smirk or a grin, but a happy smile. "You made it, kid. You still got a long way to go, but you made it. Welcome to SLA."
The hologram turned back to a scrambled mess before shutting down completely. Peter was left alone, staring at the spot in the air where the image had been. He swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat as tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. He let out a rough breath and wiped his eyes, unable to stop the giant smile on his face. A sound that was half laugh and half sob emerged from his throat.
He had done it.
He was a student of SLA.
He was going to be a hero!
A thick, lonely silence hung over the Wards' study. The others had since departed, citing various engagements and excuses. Jean had been left alone for some time. She still felt numb as she bent over her acceptance letter, trying to smooth out the crumpled lines and creases.
This document was important to her. It showed that she had beaten the odds and made it into SLA. She had done it on her own merits, with her own skills and Quirk. It meant beyond a shadow of a doubt that she deserved to be here. It meant she had won.
But why does it still feel like I lost?
Jean turned the paper again and flattened out another crease. Now the line 'we are pleased to inform you' was once again legible. Jean swallowed as she turned her attention to straightening out another corner.
"Jean?"
"Ah!" she said, nearly jumping out of her seat as she spun around. Somehow, she had been unable to notice Magneto entering the room and coming up behind her. He looked curiously down at her and cocked his helmeted head a slight degree.
"Are you feeling unwell, Jean?" he asked, his face very serious.
"Oh, um, no. Thank you, Magneto. I'm… I'm okay." Jean cleared her throat and tried to get her composure back. "You just startled me, that's all."
Magneto nodded before he turned to the worn-looking letter on the table. His eyebrows lowered slightly.
"Did you have some form of disagreement with your acceptance letter?" he asked.
"What? No!" she said immediately. "Um, I mean, well… it was an accident."
He gave a slow nod, but Jean had the feeling that he didn't believe her.
"Could you please come with me, Jean?" he said, gesturing toward the door. "Charles needs to have a talk with you."
"Oh. Okay," Jean said with a nod. She carefully folded the acceptance letter and placed it in her pocket before following Magneto. A glance out the window showed Jean it was later in the day than she thought. It must be close to dinner time by now.
The two of them ascended to the third floor and were nearly at the Professor's office when they heard voices coming from the other side of the closed door.
"…just can't believe that you would do something so stupid!" shouted an angry voice that Jean immediately recognized.
"Please try to calm yourself, Scott," came the measured response.
"I am not going to be calm about this! You can spout to parents that 'class placements are chosen at random' but I know better! You purposely put her in a different class!"
"I can assure you that Jean will be perfectly alrig-"
"Stop with the bullshit, Professor! Jean told me about what happened at the Entrance Exam! You don't send Kurt to pick someone up when it isn't a goddamn emergency! She's not safe on her own! What she needs is-!"
That was the point when Magneto had evidently grown tired of the conversation and stretched his hand toward the door. The doorknobs moved on their own and the double doors opened, giving only a small, momentary squeak that nevertheless seemed to echo in the hallway.
The Professor noticed them first, his troubled expression clearing as he caught sight of Magneto and Jean, but Jean was focused on Scott. He spun around from where he stood before the Professor's desk. Scott's ruby-covered eyes met briefly with hers before Scott turned to face Magneto, ready to make the magnetic hero the new target for his anger.
"I'm sure," said Magneto, cutting Scott off just as he was opening his mouth, "that whatever you're about to say is entirely fascinating and important, Scott, but I'm going to have to ask you to take your leave. Charles needs to have a meeting with Jean."
Scott actually stumbled a step back, despite having been standing still. He blinked at Magneto with his mouth hanging slightly open.
"He… he does?" Scott asked.
"I do?" the Professor asked, arching a single quizzical eyebrow. Jean saw Magnetos steely gaze narrow at the Professor before he spoke again.
"Yes, you do, Charles." Magneto put extra emphasis into that statement.
Scott let out a breath and visibly relaxed.
"Oh, okay," he said, smiling to Magneto. "Good to know you're fixing this, Magneto." Magneto only gave him a silent stare. "Okay, I'll leave you to it. See you at dinner, Jean." Scott left the room, pausing only to give Jean a smile and give her fingers a squeeze before departing.
Magneto watched him go and flicks his hand, slamming the doors shut as soon as Scott was clear. "Take a seat, Jean," Magneto said, waving her toward one of the chairs in front of the Professor's desk.
Jean gulped and sat down. Something about Magneto was… different. He had an intense air about him, as if the sheer weight of his presence compelled her to silence.
"I'm not sure what you intend for me to tell her, Erik," said Xavier, his curious eyes darting back and forth between them. The statement only served to make Magneto openly glare at him.
"You know exactly what I intend for you to talk to her about, Charles."
Jean blinked in confusion at that while Xavier's face seemed to pale.
"No." he said shortly, shaking his head. "No, she's too young. Now is not the time." The Professor's hoverchair turned and floated toward the door to his chambers. It had only made it a few feet before the chair came to a jolting, shuddering halt. Then, as the chair gave a whine of protest, it slowly reversed back toward the desk. All the way, it shook in the air. Xavier turned over his shoulder and fixed Magneto with a long stare. "Let go of me, Erik," he said coldly.
"Absolutely not, Charles," rumbled Magneto, his glare fearsome. Jean had only seen that angry expression a scant few times before. His hand stayed pointed toward Xavier. "You've stalled on this for long enough."
Xavier's hands were latched onto the armrests of his chair, his grip so tight his knuckles had turned a bloodless white. He and Magneto stared each other down before Magneto suddenly sighed and removed the helmet from his head. Just like that, a mental wave seemed to crash atop Jean.
You promised, Charles.
Jean trembled as Magneto's voice rang inside her head. Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see the Professor close his eyes and wince from the intensity of the message. Magneto was thinking so strongly in Xavier's direction that Jean had become an accidental eavesdropper. Xavier opened his eyes again and stared at Magneto, his attention squarely focused. There was a pause as Xavier sent his own message to Magneto.
No, Charles. This isn't all about you anymore. This is about Jean. When she came to us, we both made a promise that we would take care of her. That we would look out for her.
Jean felt like more of an intruder with every second she sat there. She had no desire to see this sort of argument.
"Should… should I go?" she asked hesitantly.
"Stay where you are, Jean." Magneto's voice sounded like gravel as he fixed his gaze on her. Jean gulped and stayed in her seat. Magneto's face softened and he looked pleadingly back to Xavier.
Please talk to her. Be the man I know you are.
The Professor closed his eyes as he responded, his hands clasping in his lap. Jean was shocked. The Professor almost looked…nervous?
"Since when has that ever stopped us?" Magneto spoke aloud. He gave a small smile that left a twinkle in his eye. This was a smile that Jean had seen before, but it was only ever reserved for Xavier.
After a few moments pause the Professor gave Magneto a weak smile in return. "Never." The word almost seemed to be pulled out his mouth.
"That's what I thought." Magneto nodded towards Jean as he replaced his helmet. "I'll see you later then." His cape swished as he turned and walked out of the office, using his Quirk to open the doors dramatically. "I'll lock the doors for you two. You can come out when you're done." Before either Jean or Xavier could protest, the doors slammed shut and locked themselves with a decisive shunk. The two of them were left sitting there in silence before Xavier sighed and massaged his temples.
"Damn it all, Erik…" he muttered. He gave another sigh before he turned to see Jean. He clasped his hands on the desk and leaned forward in his chair. "Jean," he said, "there's something we have to talk about."
And there we are. Hope you all liked it. I think I'm gonna do a chapter of Puddin after this, but I'll see you next time.