X-Men: New Class

by Ambaryerno

Set in the Earth-10005 Universe, a new class of students arrives at the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters. Inspired by Agents of SHIELD, X-Men: New Class loosely adapts Kyle and Yost's New X-Men as a hypothetical live-action television series. (Note: This story only accounts for up to X-Men: Days of Future Past, and will not be updated for Apocalypse)

11. 1x09 - Lambs for Slaughter

1x09

Lambs for Slaughter

###

Act I

###

Mark watched Laura settle his headphones over her ears again with an amused smirk on his lips. There had been a peculiar sense of wonder in her own expression as they spent the morning working through the playlist on his iPod. It didn't really matter what he played — rock, rap, gospel, country, classical, swing — she digested it all with almost ravenous curiosity, like someone who had been deaf all their lives whose first experience with sound was hearing Beethoven's Ninth Symphony.

They lay stretched out across her bed, Mark on his side and propping his head up, Laura on her stomach with her knees bent back, her crossed ankles hovering over her backside, and her chin supported in her hands. Mark's button-down shirt hung open over a stylishly distressed Dirty Pretty Things tee, while Laura wore one of her longer skirts paired with a simple blood-red tank top (and of course her locket, which she never seemed to take off).

Her room was empty of decoration, and everything was neat and orderly, without any sort of personal touches unless he were to count the bookshelf along one wall. However even that was almost strictly functional, and held only text books, of which there were nearly as many subjects as she had books altogether, many of them for classes the school didn't even teach (and those that were, were well above their grade level at that). Come to think of it, the only work of fiction he ever saw her with was the battered old copy of Pinocchio she kept in her backpack.

Laura listened intently with the same profound curiosity sparkling in her green eyes as before. She had never once said whether or not she enjoyed the music, but like with the coffee her first trip with him into Salem Center, it seemed to be the experience of listening to it that mattered to her most.

"This one's an absolute classic by Metallica off the Black Album," he said. "It's called 'The Unforgiven.'"

She cocked her head slightly to one side, and her expression changed to one of careful concentration as she listened. "It is telling a story," she said.

Mark smiled. Laura had very quickly proven to have a strong understanding of music theory and the technical aspects, but he found it rather amusing when she struggled to grasp the artistry and emotion of the music. "That's right. It's about the struggle of an individual against the people who want to subjugate and control him."

Laura looked at him sharply at that, and a strange look passed across her eyes. "Does he succeed?" she asked, and whatever seemed to bother her about the story was even more evident in her voice.

"I uh, I don't think so," he admitted, and Laura slumped remorsefully, folding her white arms in front of her and resting her chin atop them. "I mean, it's a pretty common thing for ballads to have sad or bittersweet endings."

"Why would you wish to listen to something sad when I have heard you say to Sooraya that music makes you happy?"

Mark blinked and shifted on the bed next to her to mimic her posture. "Well..." he started, and had to stop to consider his response. He smiled at her. "First of all, I can't believe you remembered that, that was months ago. And...well...I guess like any form of art, music is all about emotional response, whether the expression of the artist, or the listener's interpretation. You know, like people who like to watch scary or sad movies? I mean, yeah, no one likes to be scared for real, but sometimes it's fun to be scared in a way that you're not really in danger."

Laura considered that for a moment. "Then it is fun to be saddened when you know you are not really sad?"

"I guess you could look at it like that. And sometimes it feels good when you really are sad to listen to something that's sad, too. Kind of like...auditory therapy, I guess."

Mark regarded her curiously. "Did you never listen to music before?"

Laura shrunk down into herself in that way she did whenever something discomfited or embarrassed her. Mark found the response adorable. "I did not," she admitted.

"Wow," Mark said, almost taken aback by the thought she had gone through her whole life and never listened to music. He couldn't make it a day without something. "I mean never, not on the radio, or a CD, or a concert?"

"I attended a Dazzler concert once with my cousin," she said.

Well, that was something, at least. "You know, I think that's the first time I ever heard you say anything about your family," he said. He studied her closely as he spoke. So far, at least as far as he knew, no one had been able to get much, if anything at all, out of her about where she came from. Cessily and Sooraya had certainly tried, and they were about as close as anyone got to being someone with whom she was willing to confide in. Even the nature of her powers was a closely-guarded secret, and a source of frequent gossip and speculation among the student body.

"There is nothing to say," Laura said, and her voice got very quiet in that way he had learned made it clear she would refuse to talk further on a subject.

"Ah, well, that's ok. But hey, at least you got a chance to see Dazzler live. She puts on some amazing shows and it can be really hard to get tickets."

"I am afraid I may not have fully appreciated what it meant."

Mark smiled. "That's cool, I mean, you didn't know much about the music then, so it's totally understandable. That just means we need to bring you up to speed, so next time you're ready."

Laura took off the headphones, and turned to him and offered him one of her small, easy-to-miss smiles. "I would like that."

It wasn't possible for him to avoid meeting her eyes when she looked towards him, and for a long moment Mark gazed deeply into them, and Laura gazed back. He couldn't help but feel that she was staring clear through him as she did so, searching, wary and alert, but what exactly she sought in the depths of his eyes was as mysterious as the past she kept hidden to everyone around her. What Mark did know was that she was incredibly pretty, and her secrecy and the brief flashes of who she was behind her usual stoic mask just added to the allure. So, his pulse beginning to race a bit, he let go and did what felt natural and right. He leaned in to kiss her...

...and Laura deftly spun away from him and came to her feet just as their lips were about to meet.

"We should go," she said, and she stood in front of him hugging herself and awkwardly trying to shrink even further away. "You have a class this morning and Professor Xavier wished to speak with me before mine."

The moment ruined, Mark sighed and flopped over onto his back. "Yeah, I know," he said, not quite able to mask his disappointment at her sudden retreat. If Laura picked up on it, it wasn't evident, and right now all he could read on her was a great deal of discomfort in her posture.

He swung his legs around the side of the bed and gathered his iPod and headphones as he stood up. Laura kept her distance, and wrapped her arms even more tightly around herself, as if she were trying to close herself off to him entirely. Mark sighed. He wasn't just a little bit disappointed at her rejection, he was actually kind of hurt. "Maybe we can meet up after classes let out?"

She considered that for a moment as they made their way to her bedroom door. "Julian and I must finish the paper due tomorrow for Ms. Marie's class," she said, and Mark felt his heart sink a little further. "But perhaps afterwards."

Well, ok, that was a little bit better.

"Ok," he said. "I've got some other stuff I can load on my iPod I think you might like."

She nodded again, and though she subtly maintained some space between them, the small smile returned. "Thank you, I will look forward to it."

Mark offered her a lopsided smile of his own, and offered her a small wave goodbye as he opened the door and left her room. Well, ok, maybe I pushed a little too soon, but hey, it's not a complete no.

As he made his way down the dormitory hallway to stop by his own room to pick up his books for class, Mark distractedly ran through a mental catalog of his collection for the perfect song.

###

Act II

###

Thanksgiving week had snuck up on everyone faster than they expected, and maintaining the focus of the students as the holiday approached was an exercise in futility. For many it would be another bittersweet gathering in the formal dining hall — there would be no lack of food of the highest quality, of course, but this time of year made it especially difficult for those without family to spend the break with. Jean could feel the stress and melancholy, and so much of it concentrated into such a small space made it at times difficult to buffer herself against the storm of emotion. Those students who were still in contact with home did their best not to be too elated as the day approached so as not to further depress their classmates, but it nonetheless remained a difficult time of year.

That, of course, was the business which brought her to the Professor's office that morning. Things had been quiet in the aftermath of the fight in Hunts Point, and so far neither the police nor their own search had managed to turn up any hint of who the gunmen were, or what their connection to the missing woman they were investigating when they fell under attack might have been. None of this sat easily with her, and it was hard not to notice that even Scott was left on-edge. Unfortunately, all they could do was try to get back to business as usual as best they could, and the holiday offered at least one chance of that for some of their students.

She sat across from Xavier at his desk as he went over his computer terminal. Scott sat next to her and checked his own iPad. "Normalcy," however, did not translate to "easy," and that was now the primary source of tension between the three.

"I still wonder if it's a good idea," Scott was saying, an argument he had been returning to throughout the morning.

"I understand your concern for their safety, but these children already have such little contact with their homes and families as it is," Xavier said, and rubbed his bare forehead. The Professor had been a rock to them all for as long as she had known him — an unyielding pillar of strength and steadfastness amid perpetual chaos — but at times like these Jean couldn't help but notice just how old their mentor had grown over the years. And not for the first time she was grateful her powers had advanced to the point she could actually shield such thoughts from him. "I couldn't in good conscience just cancel the Thanksgiving weekend break without a direct threat to this school."

"I'm not convinced Hunts Point wasn't just that."

"Has anyone heard anything more?"

Jean shook her head. "Nothing," she said. "I've been trying to locate them on Cerebro, but however they were blocking my telepathy, they must be blocking that, as well."

"And so far we haven't heard anything from any of our contacts or teams in the field," Scott added.

Xavier sighed. "My concern is that if the purpose of these men was to leave us acting in fear, changing our procedures here will give them that victory. I can't accept that, Scott."

"I don't want to, either," Scott said. "I'm just concerned for the safety of the students."

"We haven't had an incident here in over a decade, and that owed as much to the government's position at the time as anything else. No, I think our best course of action is to let these children live as normal of a life as they can. So many of them are too looking forward to the break. We can take the usual precautions, but I think it is too important for them to be excessively cautious."

Scott nodded, and though Jean felt his lingering uncertainty, once the Professor had made his decision he knew there would be no changing it. Jean studied Xavier closely. She knew how heavily he weighed Scott's input — as carefully and thoroughly as if it were his own instincts and intuition — and it was that trust and respect that convinced Scott to accept Xavier's judgment now. "Jean can keep an eye on them with Cerebro while they're away," Scott suggested, with a glance in her direction. "That should give them a bit of security without being too overt about it."

Jean nodded her agreement. "I shouldn't need to constantly monitor them, anyway, just look in periodically."

"I think that should be more than enough," Xavier agreed. "Now then, how many will be leaving the school for the weekend?"

Scott checked his iPad. "Forty altogether. Most of those have flights out of La Guardia, and the rest have bus and train tickets. The earliest flight is at nine o'clock Wednesday morning, and the last leaves at noon."

Xavier considered. "The usual shuttles probably won't be sufficient for everyone headed to the airport, the bus station, and the rail depot given the timeframe involved. Jean, would you place a call to Golden Touch and see about chartering a bus?"

Jean nodded. "I'm free most of the morning so I'll get right on it."

"Very good, and I think we should plan for a light schedule for today and tomorrow."

Scott smirked. "I think the kids will enjoy that."

Xavier chuckled softly. "Indeed. Now then, we have one more matter to address this morning..."

As if on cue there was a knock at the door.

"...Ah! Excellent, punctual as ever. Come in, Laura!" he said, and the door to his office opened and Laura Kinney slipped quietly inside. If the girl was surprised by her and Scott's presence (and Jean suspected she knew even before opening the door they were there) she didn't show it, and her thoughts were as closely guarded as always as her green eyes intently swept the room, taking in every last detail on her way across the office. If any of her classmates knew just what thoughts were processing behind those young eyes when she entered a room they would almost certainly be terrified to be there, but that was a secret Xavier had insisted on keeping between the three of them, Laura, and Logan.

"Good morning, Laura!" Xavier said warmly. Scott watched her coolly, his ruby-quartz glasses masking his feelings, though he wasn't able to hide his unease over the girl from Jean. For her part, Jean smiled in an effort to put her off her guard, and echoed Xavier's greeting.

"You wished to see me, Professor?" she asked. Her voice was quiet, and while her movements held a certain feline grace, her subdued posture reminded Jean of nothing less than a dog called to heel. It was a comparison that she found both alarming and heartbreaking at the ease with which it came to mind.

"Yes, I did. Thank you for coming. I wished to discuss a small matter I would like your assistance with if you would be willing."

Laura cocked her head and regarded the Professor a moment. He leaned his elbows onto his desk and folded his hands in front of him, and Jean noted a distinct relaxing of his posture as he addressed her. That, in turn, seemed to put her more at ease, and Laura herself relaxed a bit. "What am I to do?" she asked, almost automatically.

"Oh, this is completely your decision to make," he said. Laura just blinked at him quizzically, and though her mental defenses were up and Jean refrained from forcing through them for a sense of what the girl was thinking, it was nonetheless clear that she didn't quite understand what that meant.

"My decision?"

"Yes," he said. "You see, there is a small problem between Noriko Ashida and Sooraya Qadir which unfortunately has reached its breaking point. I have already spoken with Sooraya and she is agreeable to my suggestion, but I wanted to ask you first as well before I made a decision. Would you be willing to share a room with her? You wouldn't be alone, then, and I think separating Nori and Sooraya would be ideal for both."

Laura considered a moment, and shifted uneasily as she felt the expectant eyes of the three of them on her. "That would be acceptable," she said.

"Now, you do understand this is not an order, and is entirely up to you?"

She hesitated a moment, her features scrunching up a little bit, and then nodded in a way that made it plain to Jean that Laura did not, in fact, understand. Jean glanced at Scott, and from his own expression she could tell he had seen it as well. Xavier, too, seemed to only half-heartedly accept Laura's agreement to the switch, and nodded.

"Thank you, Laura." He turned his attention on Scott. "Scott, would you please see to the arrangements? I believe we can make the switch over the holiday break, that should be the least disruptive for the girls."

Scott nodded. "Yes, Professor," he said.

Xavier returned his attention to Laura, who quietly and patiently waited to be dismissed. "That will be all, Laura, thank you," he said. "Go on, I believe you have a class in a few minutes."

Laura nodded and retreated in a swirl of black and red fabric, and left the office as quietly as she entered.

Jean looked back to him and sighed. "She didn't understand," she said, unnecessarily, as Xavier nodded almost as soon as the words were out of her mouth.

"I know," he said, and sunk into his chair a bit and steepled his hands in front of him. "I had hoped a few months with children her own age would have helped."

Scott's own features were downcast as he considered the exchange. "But they're really not her own age, are they. Physically, yes, but maturity? Emotionally?"

"That's the problem entirely," Jean said, and folded her arms across her breast thoughtfully. "She's much more mature than the others — too much, in fact — but she's so far behind emotionally she's struggling to find a place with them."

Xavier nodded. "I still have hope for her, and she has made some progress. Let's just give her a little more time for now."

Jean took a deep breath and released it, hoping that the Professor's judgment was correct.

###

"So what are you guys doing this weekend?" Max asked.

"What do you think?" Fabio replied. "Another year of school turkey at Thanksgiving dinner."

They were gathered for lunch at a table in a corner of the lounge. Melody chewed thoughtfully on half a leftover sandwich, while Max nursed a can of Dr. Pepper. The others had already finished and were just relaxing while waiting on Max and Mel. There was a subtle buzz of excitement in advance of the holiday, though the stress of those without anywhere to go — who made up the majority of the student body — almost threatened to overwhelm it. Yana studied her nails idly and shrugged.

"Oh come on, Professor Xavier doesn't spare any expense," she said, and a mischievous smile crossed her lips. "Besides, I could always conjure something up to make it more interesting."

Megan's wings fluttered nervously at that. "I don't know, Yana," she said. "Remember what happened with the pony you summoned for Brian Cruz's birthday party."

Fabio held a hand up to his mouth and his face turned an unnaturally greenish shade. "Oh god, please don't remind me."

Yana rolled her eyes in frustration at the reminder. "Oh come on, are you guys ever going to forget about that? I keep telling you it was an accident!"

Megan scowled at her. "That's easy for you to say. The demon pony didn't try to eat you."

Yana pouted indignantly at that. "Well I thought it was adorable."

Max grunted. "Of course you would," he said, and his quills rippled in amusement. "This is why no one wants to watch those spooky movies with you late at night."

"I can't help how quaint they are. I mean do the people who make those movies really think that's what terror is?"

Megan scowled at her. "Yeah, well, most of us live all our lives in the real world."

"My pocket world is a real one, it's just different." Yana quirked a grin. "You should try a visit sometime, Meg, it would do you some good."

"No thank you!" she said, and her wings fluttered in agitation at the suggestion. "Being gobbled up by demon ponies in this world is bad enough, I don't even want to think about what other creepy-crawly things are scuttling about...um...creepily in there."

Ilyana tsked her dismissively. "Oh, you're no fun at all."

"Well, at least we know where Yana is spending the holiday," Max said. "What about you, Mel? Are you, Jay and Ms. Guthrie going home this weekend?"

Melody shook her head in answer, her mouth too full of sandwich to voice her response right away. "Not this year," she said, once she finally had enough down to talk again. "Momma is comin' up with the rest of the kids to visit, an' even Sam's supposed to drop by from whatever crazy thing he's been up to lately, an' we're all goin' to the City."

"That sounds fun," Megan said.

"Is Jay actually going to go?" Fabio asked.

"I think so. I mean, he's seemed to be doin' better lately. I guess Yana was right, maybe he just needed some time alone."

###

Jay sat in the outer office and waited patiently. Stryker's secretary lounged in her chair behind her desk and studied her immaculately painted nails for a moment before returning to work with her nail file. Aside from her cultured greetings and announcements to the Reverend of his arrival, or offering him the occasional drink whenever he had to wait to be admitted, she rarely spoke with him, and spent all of her time either answering calls, typing up documents, playing on her phone, or toying with her hair, or nails, or makeup. This evening was no different, of course, and as he arrived she ushered him to a chair with a polite "Good evening, Mr. Guthrie, the Reverend is in a meeting but will be with you shortly."

So here he waited, idly taking in the surroundings. The waiting area was somewhat more furnished than Stryker's private office, and he suspected Elizabeth had something to say about that, while the Reverend allowed her to indulge herself within reason. There were a few decorative wax plants (she did not, of course, want the hassle of a great deal of upkeep), a file cabinet along the wall right of the door leading into the inner office, and a couple art prints adorning the walls. The only overtly religious imagery was the large crucifix on the wall opposite the door to the inner office. The waiting area where Jay was seated (consisting of a couple chairs separated by low wooden tables with polished tops, coasters, and stacks of magazines — to judge from the covers also the selection of Stryker's secretary) was on the right as one faced the crucifix, with Elizabeth's desk on the left. There were two other doors in the room and both on the wall with Elizabeth's desk; one nearest the inner office leading to the bathroom, and in the opposite corner was the door leading out into the hallway.

Fortunately the wait wasn't a long one, and Jay heard the door to Stryker's inner office click and swing open. The Reverend himself held the door as Matthew Risman, and another man with a thick mustache, whom Jay recalled being introduced to as Dr. Jack Abrams, stepped out.

"I'll be in touch, Jack," Stryker said, and glanced at Jay. "Do let the others know my prayers are with them."

"Thank you, Reverend," Dr. Abrams said.

"Ah! Good evening, Mr. Guthrie," Stryker said, and Jay rose politely to greet the Reverend. "You remember Dr. Abrams."

"Yes, sir," Jay said, and nodded politely. "Doctor."

"Good evening, Mr. Guthrie," Abrams said, and turned back to Stryker. "I'll see myself out, Reverend, thank you again for seeing me."

"Not at all, not at all," the Reverend said. "Matthew, do accompany the good Doctor out, I would like to speak with our young guest privately."

Risman nodded obediently. "Yes, Reverend," he said, and motioned towards the door. "Doctor."

The two men then departed together, leaving Jay, Stryker, and his secretary alone. Stryker approached and put an arm around his shoulders as he guided him towards his office. Ordinarily Jay might has flinched at the contact — years of stories teaching him that the Reverend only did so as a means to find a place to stick a knife — but now he found a feeling of comfort and welcome in the old soldier's touch. "I hope you had a pleasant trip into town," he said, as he led Jay inside and closed the door behind him. "Please, have a seat," he said, and motioned to the conversation circle in the corner of the office, rather than towards his desk.

"I did, thank you," Jay said, and took a seat in one of the chairs. There was already platter with a few sandwiches and a pitcher of tea waiting there, what looked to be leftovers from the Reverend's meeting with Abrams and Risman.

"Have you eaten, my son? Feel free to help yourself, if you like."

"Thank you," he said again, and grabbed an Italian-style deli sandwich topped with salami, capocollo, and prosciutto from the platter, as the Reverend took a seat and poured them each a cup of tea.

"So how are you today, my son? You certainly seem in much better spirits lately."

"I am, thank you," he said, as politely as he could around a mouthful of sandwich.

"Good! Good!" Stryker said. "I'm glad to hear you're doing better. How are things at school?"

"Well, I'm out of detention, now. I think I've moved enough boxes for a lifetime."

Stryker chuckled. "Well, my son, hard work can certainly be good for the soul."

"You know, Sooraya said the same thing," he said, waving his sandwich pointedly.

The Reverend raised an eyebrow thoughtfully. "Sooraya...Ah yes, Ms. Qadir, I believe it was?"

Jay swallowed a bite and nodded. "Yes, sir," he said. "I guess of everyone at the school I find her the easiest to talk to. Most of the others aren't very religious, but Soo keeps a very close relationship with God, an' I guess she probably understands me better than most because of it."

"You certainly sound quite fond of her," Stryker said, and Jay felt his face heat at that.

"I mean, we're just friends an' all," he said, a touch defensively, and that just made him feel even sillier. He didn't think there was any sort of innuendo in the Reverend's words, but now he couldn't help but wonder why he jumped to that conclusion in the first place. He certainly enjoyed her company, but Julia...

"Oh, of course, I didn't mean to imply such a thing. But I think it is wonderful that there is someone there with whom you share such a close connection to God."

"You'd probably like her, too," Jay said, somewhat distractedly at the conflicting feelings welling up at the moment. "Maybe some time I can bring her along? I'm sure she'd be interested in what you've had to say."

"Perhaps," Stryker said, after finishing a long sip of his tea. "I think, however, we should exercise a small amount of discretion for now. I fear memories are long, and bridging the divide of the past decades may take "

Jay swallowed another bite of his sandwich and nodded. Having seen for himself that even Sooraya seemed so certain of the stories told about the Reverend, it certainly wasn't a subject that would be easily broached. "Patience is a virtue."

"That it is," Stryker said with a smile. "So have you any plans for the holiday?"

Jay nodded. "Yes, sir. My mom is bringin' up the whole family to visit. We're all goin' into town for Thanksgivin' dinner, an' afterwards we're showin' my younger brothers an' sisters around the school."

Stryker studied him from across his coffee cup. "Have any of them manifested powers yet?"

"Only my brother Jebediah. He ain't old enough yet, but he's lookin' forward to enrolling at the school." Jay smiled. "The others can't wait until they get their powers, either. It's kinda turned into a Guthrie right of passage to get our powers an' go away to the Xavier school. My older sister Paige was so impatient she tried all sorts of crazy things to make her powers work."

"Do many of your other classmates have family?"

Jay sighed. "Not any more. An' most of those who even know who their family is have been kicked out or abandoned for what they are. Josh Foley, he's one of the kids in my class, he was even signed over to the custody of the school, all official an' everything."

"How dreadful," Stryker said.

"There's a few others like us, though, who are still in touch with home. A lot of them are actually getting' to go home for the holiday, too. The Professor is havin' them all taken over to the airport Wednesday mornin' to catch their flights."

"I'm quite glad to hear that, my son. In fact I believe it's a sign of God at work, that these young people still have people who care for them."

Jay smiled. "Yeah, I guess it is. One of the little miracles, I guess."

###

Mark made his way along the dormitory hall with his hands in his pockets and his headphones over his ears, and chewing on a piece of gum. He subconsciously timed his footsteps to the beat of Maroon 5's "Sugar," and returned the smiles and waves of greeting from the students he passed in the hall. Despite their attempts to be sensitive to those who would be remaining at the school over the break, the excitement of those going home to visit their families was growing more and more palpable, and the dormitory hallway was alive with the sounds of packing, making of plans for the weekend, and the promises to text or call. The Vale sisters were arguing over who borrowed whose top, and he heard the booming voice of Santo Vaccaro — who was staying — sharing ribald stories with Brian Cruz about the girls back home, and even his music couldn't drown out the big rocky mutant.

He reached his destination, stopped his iPod and hung his headphones around his neck, then knocked on Laura's door. A few moments later it opened and, much to his surprise, it was Sooraya who answered.

Without missing a beat Mark leaned against the doorframe and flashed her a smile. "Why Laura, you've grown! And you've found a religion, too!" he quipped.

Sooraya chuckled merrily behind her niqab. "Well hello, Mark, how are you this evening?"

"I'm great, looking forward to the trip home Wednesday. I didn't know Laura had a visitor, we were going to talk music again tonight..."

"Oh!" she said. "Professor Xavier has decided to change the room assignments, and I'll be Laura's roommate from now on, I suppose she forgot to mention it."

"Ah," Mark said. "Actually, she wouldn't have had a chance to say anything, I haven't seen her since this morning. She said the Professor wanted to see her, so I guess that's what it was about."

"I think she was finishing her project with Julian after class," Sooraya offered. "She said she would be back around eight o'clock, and she is always punctual, so I would imagine she should be here shortly."

Mark nodded. "Yeah, I'm a couple minutes early. So things finally got intolerable with Nori, then?"

Sooraya sighed. "I'm afraid so. I know she's been under a great deal of stress lately..."

Mark nodded. By now almost everyone had heard about her fight with David, and even if they hadn't (and there were far too many nosy telepaths testing their powers for it to escape notice) the fact the pair were doing their best to avoid each other would have been an obvious tip-of.

"...but that doesn't excuse the things she said. I've tried to be patient with her, but I just couldn't tolerate it anymore."

"Well, I'm sure things will probably be a lot smoother with Laura. I don't know that she's got a judgmental bone in her body, and I've seen the way Keller and Santo treat her."

"I do wish she would stand up for herself, though. One can only turn one's cheek so far."

Mark sighed himself this time, and nodded his agreement. "I can't quite figure her out," he said.

Sooraya smiled behind her niqab as she eyed him. "Why Mark, I do believe you like her!" she said teasingly.

Mark quirked a grin and leaned in in an exaggeratedly conspiratorial manner. "Shh, don't tell anyone. Do you know just how many hearts I'd be breaking if they find out?"

"Well, you do not have to worry about me, I am not one for idle gossip."

"God bless you, Soo," he said.

Sooraya chuckled again, and leaned around him a little to look out into the hall. "Well," she said, "I think I will go and see what Cessily is doing and leave you two to your plans," she said.

Mark glanced over his shoulder and saw Laura silently and swiftly making her way along the hall, shrinking down into her jacket and clutching her backpack protectively against herself in response to the unusual amount of activity.

"Talk to you later, Soo," he said, as Sooraya slipped past him and out into the hall with a swirl of her abaya. She turned a little to wave goodbye, before nodding politely to Laura.

"Good evening, Laura," she said.

Laura acknowledged her with a quiet nod, and continued on her way in silence until she reached her door. Mark held it open for her as she passed. "Hey," he said.

"Hello," Laura said, and Mark followed her inside and closed the door behind him.

"So how's the project going? How much trouble has Keller gotten you in?"

Laura hesitated a moment and looked at him over her shoulder as she laid her pack down on the desk along one wall. "Julian's contributions were actually quite insightful, I think Ms. Marie will be pleased."

Mark made a pout at her. "You're just trying to make me jealous, aren't you."

She blinked at him in confusion. "No, he truly..."

He cut her off with a laugh and a wave of his hand. "I was only teasing."

Laura considered that a moment, then shrugged off her oversized jacket and hung it on the back of her chair. "Oh."

Mark chuckled softly under his breath and made his way across the room. Laura gracefully lowered herself onto her bed with one leg folded beneath her. "By the way, before we started your 'lesson' for tonight I wanted to ask you something," he said, and flopped down next to her.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Well, I'm be going to be gone this weekend: My parents are flying me home for Thanksgiving with the family and I'll be leaving Wednesday morning. I was wondering if you'd like to come with me."

Laura blinked at him. "Come with you?"

"Sure. I...uh...I had my parents reserve an extra ticket for the flight, and everything. Kind of as a surprise. I figured since you never talked about your own family, you were going to be staying here, and I didn't want to see you spend the holiday alone."

Laura did her best to shrink down into herself, and hugged herself tightly. "I would not belong."

Mark sat up and reached a hand out to touch her shoulder, and Laura flinched back in an almost defensive manner that made him jerk his own hand back in reflex. "Sure you would! I mean, my mom and dad? Totally cool with mutants. They just enrolled me here because Xavier's is the best-equipped to teach us how to actually use our powers, and it's a really good school on top of that."

"I do not mean that. It is...different."

Mark frowned. "Different how?"

Laura's expression turned pained, and her voice fell to a whisper. "I do not wish to talk about it," she said, and looked away in what Mark thought may have actually been shame. He frowned again, but respectfully backed off.

"You don't have to," he said. "But I'd still really like it if you came with me."

"I cannot. It is best that I say here."

Mark studied her for a long moment, but Laura refused to look at him, and instead stared at her lap. Her muscles were tense, as if a spring coiled up and ready to explode into flight. So he sighed and nodded. "Ok," he said. "I'll let mom know they can release the ticket that they were holding."

"I am sorry," she said, her voice now barely audible.

"It's ok," he said, trying to mask his disappointment and sound as reassuring as he could. "They're not out anything, and if you're not comfortable leaving the school that's totally cool. Maybe you'll feel better around Christmas? I mean, it will be Christmas, everyone feels better at Christmas." He eyed her closely after that last remark, and for the first time Laura looked back at him, and a hint of a smile appeared on her lips at the face he was making at her.

"Perhaps," she said.

"And if not Christmas, then we'll totally plan for next year. And no weaseling out of it, ok?"

"Ok."

Mark smiled at her and retrieved his headphones from where they hung at his neck. "Anyway, I think you'll really like this one..."

###

Act III

###

Julian had intended to sleep in that morning, but the commotion and chaos outside in the hallway as those students who were meeting the charter bus for their flights home put a very quick and raucous end to that plan. He yawned and rubbed his eyes as he made his way into the lounge. There were a few other students gathered there, most of them waiting for the shuttles into Salem later that morning to catch trains or the regular bus lines home, but he saw a few others who would be staying at the school for the holiday.

Sooraya, of course, was always up early, and he saw her enjoying a light breakfast in one corner with Sofia and Cessily, so he immediately started off in that direction, weaving past tables, and the couch and chairs clustered around the television. Sooraya greeted him with a wave, and Cessily turned to offer him a smile. Julian drew up behind Sofia and threaded his arms around her, and kissed her lightly atop the head.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey," Sofia said, and craned her neck so she could give him a proper morning kiss.

"Good morning, Julian!" Sooraya said cheerily, and Cessily rolled her eyes in a manner somewhere between amusement and annoyance.

"Please, not so cheery," Cessily said, and mopped her face. Her hair was gathered in a sloppy ponytail, and she leaned wearily on her fist.

"I don't know how you do it, Soo," Julian said as he slumped into a chair next to Sofia.

"Clean living, and a reasonable bed-time," she said, and deftly maneuvered her cup of coffee under her niqab for a drink. "I thought you and Santo preferred to sleep until noon on your off days."

"Who could sleep with all that racket?" he said, and jerked his thumb towards the sitting room and hall outside the lounge.

"I thought you would be part of it," Cessily said. "Aren't you going home for Thanksgiving?"

"His mother and father are probably sending him a private jet all the way to the school later," Sofia quipped.

"Actually, I told mom and dad I was going to spend Thanksgiving here at the school this year," he said, and made a face at Sofia.

"Really?" Sooraya said. "Why is that?"

"Yeah, really, Julian?" Cessily said, and though he caught the amusement in her voice, there was nonetheless something loaded in her tone that drew a warning scowl in her direction.

Julian made a show of putting an arm around Sofia's shoulders. "They decided to do one of their charity trips, you know, putting up appearances. I hate those trips. Besides, I don't want Sofia to have to spend the holiday without me."

Sofia made a face at him. "And here I was hoping for some peace and quiet for the weekend."

Julian stuck his tongue out at her.

"Well, I, for one, am please you will be staying," Sooraya said. "We are, after all, a family, are we not?"

"Please tell me you're not going to go all After School Special on me, it's way too early for that," Julian protested.

"Oh come on Julian, we all know you're really a lot nicer than you try to look," Cessily said. "I'm glad you're staying, though. Someone needs to keep Santo in line."

"It's not that hard. Just turn on the game and he won't leave the lounge."

"You know how he gets. We'll be dodging Hail Marys to the face all day, and someone is going to get tackled through the dining room table."

Julian was just about to offer a rebuke, when a deafening roar split the air, and the entire school shook down to its foundations. People screamed as the windows exploded in a shower of glass fragments, and the television was thrown from its mountings and exploded in a spray of shrapnel and sparks on impact with the floor. They were all flung from their chairs, with Julian smacking his forehead on the table, and everyone on their feet was knocked flat.

His head spun and his eyes went unfocused, and without Sofia pulling him upright Julian didn't think he could manage any position other than horizontal. For a few moments his ears rang, and it was only after the daze from whacking his face cleared away that he realized it wasn't his ears: The fire alarms were blaring, and their classmates were crying in terror and alarm, and chaos reigned out in the hall as everyone tried to force their way outside.

"Julian! Julian!" Cessily screamed at him, her words barely audible over the alarms.

"Baby, look at me, are you alright?" Sofia asked, her and her twin sister's faces hovering low in front of him and their brown eyes searching his.

Both girls were a bit bruised from the fall and flying bits of debris, and Cessily's hair had slipped its knot entirely, but otherwise they seemed little worse for wear. Sooraya, if anything, fared the best, and though dazed, managed to find her feet with little trouble.

Julian shook the last of Sofia's twin away and blinked a few times. He just knew he would have a headache later between the concussion and the wailing, but right now adrenaline was on his side. "Yeah, yeah, I'm alright," he said, and staggered to his feet, with one hand each on Cess and Sofia for support. "Jesus Christ! What the hell was that?!"

###

Josh ran his finger along the passage he had been studying and jotted down a few notes, while Laurie watched him with her head propped up and cupped in her hands. The hallway outside the library was alive with the sounds of the barely controlled chaos of those of their classmates getting ready to leave for the weekend; most of them boarding the big charter bus that would be departing for La Guardia, while others would be taking the school's regular shuttles into Salem for bus and train rides home.

She, of course, was staying. Though her control had improved significantly over the past month or so, Laurie didn't feel the least bit confident about the thought of going home to see her mother's family. Her mother was immune to her powers, of course, but the last thing she needed was to drive everyone else up the wall as she magnified their anxieties and stress over the holiday. And, well, it would mean leaving Josh behind.

Laurie made a face at him as he focused his attention on his work. It wasn't even due until well after the break, but Josh insisted on getting an early start on it. Never mind just how bored she was sitting and watching him study (that he had already been up and at work long before she even came downstairs herself didn't really enter her mind). Well, at least studying his books.

"Josh," she said in a sing-songy sort of voice to try to get his attention.

"Hm?" came his grunted reply, but he never once took his eyes from his textbook, and gave no indication he had really noticed her having said anything.

"Josh," she said again.

"Hm?" he replied, in just the same sort of distracted tone as before.

"I'm breaking up with you."

"Ok," he said, once again betraying his complete distraction as he focused on the textbook spread out on the library table in front of him.

Laurie twisted her lips in irritation, and loosened her hold over her powers. She released a gentle puff of her pheromones in his direction, carrying with it a hint of her annoyance at being so ignored. Laurie watched his face with a small smirk of amusement as the cloud of concentrated emotion him, and she saw her own annoyed scowl briefly twist his features. Josh finally tore his blue eyes away from his book and looked up at her, his expression a mixture of the emotions she sent him and his own annoyance at having been interrupted. Laurie just giggled at the effect her teasing had, and Josh's own aggravation melted away.

"What did I do to deserve that?" he asked.

"We have almost a whole week off of school," she said, "and you're sitting there studying!"

Josh set his pen down, folded his hands on the table, and fixed her with the most indignant scowl he could, though it was immediately plain to Laurie there were no feelings to match behind it. "Well, I was trying to get ahead."

"You are such a nerd!" she laughed. "Besides, don't you want to go with me into town and help me pick out something nice to wear for when my mom gets here?"

He made an exaggeratedly thoughtful expression, and leaned back in his chair as if carefully considering her question. "Hmm... Studying, or shopping..."

"Oh you are so mean! I shouldn't introduce you to mom at all!"

Josh smirked. "Oh good, my evil plan is working."

Laurie stuck her tongue out, and Josh broke out into laughter at her exaggerated pout. "All right, all right, we'll catch the shuttle into Salem!"

He made a show of flipping his book closed, and they were both getting to their feet when suddenly the entire school felt like it had been lifted up from the ground and slammed back down again. A deafening whump shattered the relative quiet of the morning, the bookshelves in the library toppled over, and people were upended and sent tumbling across the floor. Laurie might have fallen entirely and smacked her head on the table, but instead collapsed unsteadily into Josh. The fire alarm wailed and emergency lights flashed, and people began to scream and run for the main doors.

Even more painful, however, was the solid wave of panic that struck Laurie like a tsunami. She burst into tears and her heart began to race, and her head spun at the overwhelming storm of emotion from her classmates. Laurie cried out in agony and buried her face in Josh's chest, and it was only him pulling her into his arms that helped her keep her feet.

"Laurie! Laurie!" Josh said, and she could hear the panic rising in his voice as she lost hold of her powers and blasted her pheromones across the library. Her own fear clashed with that of the others, and quickly built into a raging and roiling cyclone of terror, with her at the eye of the storm. "Laurie! Focus!" Josh shouted. "Focus on me!"

He tried to sound strong. He tried to put the fear from his mind. But Laurie could hear the catch in his voice as his own feelings were amplified by her pheromones. She didn't know how he was holding on as he was battered by her power, but Josh just kept holding her tightly, practically crushing the air from her lungs. Laurie clutched him back, slowly and painfully reigned in her surging powers, and shut herself off from the flood of emotion.

Finally she pulled her face away from him and opened her eyes, and Josh wiped the tears streaming down her cheeks with his thumbs as he gently cupped her face. The library was in shambles: The bookshelves had toppled during the tremors that shook the school, scattering their contents across the floor, and outside in the hall she could hear cries of fear, but though she still felt the emotions of her classmates buffeting against her, her power was under control once more. For a long moment they gazed into each other's eyes, and Laurie didn't need to be a telepath to know they both shared one thought:

What just happened?

###

"D'awww, what do you mean I can't come with you?" Santo whined, and dropped heavily on the edge of the spare bed.

"I mean that you can't come with me," Victor said, as he neatly folded up a couple shirts and stowed them away in his suitcase. The big rocky mutant was actually pouting as he folded his arms across his massive chest, and slumped his shoulders.

"Come on, dude, I've gotta get out of here for a change!"

"Why don't you go to California with Julian? He could ship you air freight."

"Julian's not going."

Victor looked up from his packing in genuine surprise. "Woah, really? As much as he complains about the cold up here I'd have thought he'd be dying for a chance to get home for a bit."

"Nah, he said he wanted to spend the holiday with Sofia."

He raised the small line of spikes that passed for one eyebrow. "Huh. And I'd have thought he wouldn't have any problems flying her home with him."

Santo just shrugged. "All I know is he's staying here, and I don't ever get to go anywhere."

Victor went back to work and tossed a few pairs of socks into his suitcase. "Well, I'm sorry, but you still can't come."

"Pleeeeeeease?" Santo said, and clasped his hands together. "If your mom's been bugging you about finding a guy I could totally pretend. Y'know, so long as there wasn't any actual kissing and stuff. And I could still check out the girls."

He rounded on the big mutant with a scowl, and glared daggers at him. The look, however, was lost on Santo, who watched him with the same dopey expression he wore every other minute of the day. "Alright, see, that's one reason you can't come right there. Hell, that's the reason I didn't want to tell you I was gay in the first place! I don't appreciate it!"

Santo blinked at him in confusion. "You don't?" he said, with genuine earnestness.

Victor just let out a groan of frustration in response and went back to his packing. The truth of the matter was that he knew Santo actually didn't mean anything by it, because he genuinely believed that everything about his friends was fair game for ribbing. And because he was a tremendous idiot.

"No I don't like it!"

"Oh," he said, and a strangely thoughtful expression appeared on his stony features. "Is it like, one of those things where it's only cool to make fun if I liked dudes too?"

"God I hate you, Santo!" Victor said, and mopped his face in exasperation.

"What?" Santo said, and shrugged innocently, a tick he had clearly picked up from spending too much time around Julian.

Victor was about to point out the door and demand Santo leave, when suddenly the floor of his room pitched up sharply beneath him, and a thunderous boom echoed through the school that shattered the windows and threatened to throw him off his feet. Posters hung from the walls came crashing down to the floor, and his bookshelf toppled over. The bed Santo was sitting on collapsed beneath him, dropping his rocky backside partway through the floor, and Victor staggered against his desk. It was all over in a moment, but then the school's fire alarm kicked in and screeched in his ears, while the distant sound of screaming was muffled by the floor and walls.

Santo levered himself out of the hole he had made in the floor and pulled Victor upright. With Victor stopping his ears against the wail of the alarm and Santo's rocky features fixed in a bewildered expression, the only thing either of them could even think of doing was to yell out together, "What was that?!"

###

David made his way along the path leading out from the back door of the school, his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets and huddling against the late-autumn chill. The sky was clear that morning, but the sun was cold, and his breath hung in a mist in front of him. The path was lined with the skeletal forms of bare trees, and the grassy lawn was brown, lending the grounds a dead and mournful appearance that seemed a perfect match for his mood. His mind was lost in thought as he trudged along, paying little attention to where he was heading.

He had not spoken with Nori since their argument the other day. In fact if before she had been trying not to be obvious she was avoiding him, now she made no such effort to disguise her intentions. With Sooraya moving out and taking over the spare bed in Laura's room he no longer even had that avenue to at least try and reach out to her, and with the holiday fast approaching it made the school feel even emptier and lonelier. He had even chosen not to go home for the weekend in hopes that might at least give them a chance to talk, but he couldn't do that if she kept disappearing on him.

The sounds of laughter and the distant voices of his classmates echoed across the grounds as those who would be taking the bus to New York were boarding for the trip, or said their good-byes to those either staying behind or waiting for the shuttles into Salem. David just wanted to get away from it. There was only one person he wanted to see, and she...

David stopped abruptly. She was right in front of him, rounding a bend in the path that had been hidden by a dense thicket of trees, their skeletal branches swaying lightly in the autumn wind. Nori saw him too as she came around the corner, and immediately spun around to take off in the other direction.

"Nori!" he called, and quickened his pace. Nori sighed and stopped, and turned around impatiently. She folded her arms across her chest, and drummed the gauntleted fingers of one hand on her arm. Her electric-blue hair peaked out from beneath a knitted cap, and she wore a light woolen coat that wouldn't do much to keep out the cold, but she preferred because it was the best she had at flaunting her figure.

"What do you want?" she said impatiently as he caught up to her.

"I just want to talk," he said.

Nori rolled her eyes. "I don't. I just want to be left alone right now, ok?"

"Look, I'm sorry that letter came at such a bad time for you, ok? I'm sorry. I don't even know what you expected me to do about it! I sent it off months ago, and it got here when it did."

"It's not about that stupid letter, David!" she said.

"Then what is it?"

"I said I don't want to talk about it!" she snapped, and spun around to head off again. David quickly caught up to her and seized her by the hand. The metal of her gauntlets was cold to the touch, but he disregarded the discomfort as best he could.

"Why not?" he said, and tried to look her in the eye. Nori avoided his gaze and turned her head away.

"Because I don't. Because there is nothing to talk about. Because it doesn't matter!"

"It does too matter!" David took hold of her face and gently steered her towards him. "I love you, ok? And if something's bothering you it does matter to me."

"David, I—"

She didn't get the chance to finish that sentence. No sooner were the words out of her mouth than the silence of the grounds was broken by a deafening roar that even from here he could see was shattering every window in the mansion. The ground convulsed beneath their feet and, most alarmingly, a massive plume of smoke and fire erupted skyward on the far side of the school.

David's mouth fell open, and Nori made a couple stunned steps forward before freezing in her tracks as the debris of the blast started to rain down on the school.

"Oh my god," David murmured, barely able to find his voice.

###

There was already a sizable crowd gathered out front as Mark and Laura made their way out of the entry hall and down the stairs leading to the courtyard, where a large black bus with the words "Golden Touch" printed along the sides awaited boarding with its engine idling. The sky was clear but it was rather cold, and Mark wrapped himself tightly in his coat, with his headphones in their usual place around his neck. Laura hunkered down into her oversized jacket, and due to the weather had chosen a pair of skinny jeans that morning rather than one of her skirts. She idly brushed a stray lock of her long black hair from her face as it was tugged by the wind, and Mark's own stylishly messy mop of hair was tousled by the breeze.

"So you're absolutely sure you won't change your mind?" he asked, and glanced down at her walking along by his side. She was carrying his backpack while he carted his wheeled suitcase behind him, a little something he had arranged so he could see her as long as possible before he left.

"I am certain," she said quietly. Mark could never quite tell what Laura was thinking at any given moment, but she seemed even more subdued than usual that morning. If he hoped to get her to say what he thought she was feeling, however, he was quickly disappointed. Or at least, he would have been if he had actually thought she might say something.

"Ok," he said. "I mean, I'll be back Sunday night. It'll be too late to go into Salem, but maybe we can do something in the lounge."

"Ok," she said, and adjusted another stray lock.

They shuffled along and followed the line of students, the flow directed by Mr. Drake and Ms. Marie. Exchanges of "Happy Thanksgiving!" and "Have a great weekend!" passed along the line between those taking the bus to New York, those who would be staying at the school, and the rest who would be hopping the shuttles for Salem later on. The bus driver was standing away from the vehicle and chatting idly over some matter with Ms. Pryde, who if she were taller than Laura it might have just been by a couple hairs.

"I, uh, I'll miss you while I'm gone," Mark said as they drew nearer the point where he would have to load up his suitcase and say goodbye. He glanced at Laura, and Laura, feeling his eyes on her, looked back at him. Something passed behind her green eyes, but what exactly she was thinking was, as usual, unreadable.

"I will still be here," she said.

"Yeah, I know," he said. "I mean, have you ever missed someone you liked being around?"

"Yes," she said, and there was a strange hollowness in her voice that this time he couldn't miss. Mark regarded her again, but Laura's eyes were downcast to the ground in front of her, and she refused to elaborate further.

Mark clicked his tongue against his teeth for a moment. "Can I call you, once I get home?"

It was more something just to prevent an awkward silence between them, while the rest of the gathering laughed, traded stories and goodbyes, or exchanged their plans for the weekend.

"I would like that," she said. She hesitated in her response, but in that way he was kind of figuring meant she just wasn't quite certain how to say what she was thinking, and he idly wondered at it, and what might have happened to make it so hard for her to understand.

Unfortunately, any time he had to do so was cut short, and they reached the side of the bus. Mark collapsed the handle on his suitcase and squeezed it into the storage compartment alongside the rest of the baggage, and took his backpack from Laura. "Thanks," he said. "I uh, I guess I've got to get on the bus now."

"Ok," she said, and shrunk away shyly, her hands stuffed in her jacket pockets, and shifting uncertainly from one foot to the other over what she was supposed to do.

Mark would have liked nothing more to offer her a goodbye hug, or a kiss on the cheek, but remembering how she had deftly slipped away the last time he tried such a thing, thought better of it. "So, I'll give you a call when my flight lands," he said. "Happy Thanksgiving."

"Happy Thanksgiving," she said, again hesitating a moment as she tried to reason out what she ought to be saying in this situation.

Any further stalling, however, was quickly broken up by a shout from behind. "Hurry it up, Sheppard! Give her a kiss or get on the bus already!" someone called, and the group of students around them broke up into laughter. Laura just blushed fiercely.

"All right, all right!" he said, with an annoyed glance over his shoulder in the direction of the voice. He turned back to Laura. "Well, I gotta go. I'll talk to you soon, ok?"

"Ok," she said, and silently cleared the line and allowed Mark to make his way onto the bus, though she kept within sight of him. He flashed a smile towards her and thought he saw her lip twitch up slightly in response. Then he was starting up the steps into the bus. He saw Sarah Vale already in a seat, though her sister wasn't with her yet (I guess she forgot something), along a few others of his own class and a handful of underclassmen like Brian Cruz. However before he could start down the aisle there was a sudden commotion outside behind him, and Mark paused and started back down the stairs to look out and see what it was about.

Jessica Vale was forcing her way through the gathered knots of students, her face white with panic. Through the voices raised in sudden confusion he could hear her screaming.

"Sarah! Sarah! Get off! Get off the bus! Get off the bus! Everybody get off the b—"

Jessica's voice was suddenly cut off, and for a brief instant his vision was blinded by a flash of light, before everything plunged into black silence.

###

Act IV

###

Melita Garner made her way along the hallway of the office high-rise in the heart of Manhattan, her long skirt swishing around her legs, her purse on one shoulder, and an iPad in a leather case tucked neatly under her arm. By contrast to Stryker's church, which had been established in an abandoned movie theater, the building where he kept his public offices was one of the nicer and most prestigious buildings in the City. The walls were neatly painted, the carpeting clean, and the metalwork and wood trim all brightly polished. Paintings and photographs adorned the walls, and here and there was potted greenery. Everything was, of course, all very artificial and sterile, but it certainly was nice.

She passed a few other offices on her left; elaborate glass doors set in equally elaborate glass fronts advertising lawyers or marketing firms, or here and there an employment agency, two book editors, and one independent press agency. Finally she reached her destination: an inconspicuous single glass door in a brass-colored flame, with plain white block letters reading, The Offices of the Rev. William Stryker, a surprisingly inauspicious front when one considered his neighbors and the expense of maintaining an office in this part of the City.

Melita pulled the door open and stepped into the outer waiting area, passed the crucifix hanging on the wall on her left, and stepped around the end of Stryker's secretary's desk. Ms. Braddock was not in her usual seat idling away her day with her nail file, but instead bent over at the filing cabinet and was doing what appeared to be some actual work. She was something on the order of perhaps a decade Melita's junior, and dressed in a blue suit dress with a skirt that was perhaps a hair too short for being truly work-appropriate, and with her long black hair neatly styled. Melita folded her arms and leaned her hip against the desk.

"I'm impressed, Ms. Braddock. You actually do do more than take up space for eight hours a day," she said.

Braddock looked away from her filing and responded to Melita's smirk with a catty look of her own. "Good morning, Ms. Garner," she said, her proper received pronunciation an unusual contrast to her Japanese features. She idly wondered how much Stryker had hired her for that reason alone, in hopes of the juxtaposition putting visitors off their guard. "Come to dig through the trash for your latest little exposé? I'm sorry, but the schoolgirls and prepubescent boys only come by on Fridays, so you'll need to wait until after the holiday for the scandal."

"I had some questions for the Reverend about some of his recent public remarks I'd like to clarify. Is he in this morning?"

"The Reverend is in meetings all morning and has asked not to be disturbed." Braddock very deliberately shut her filing cabinet with a nudge of her hip, and moved with that characteristic strut of hers — which doubtlessly served as a significant distraction to most of the male visitors to the office — to place herself between Melita and the office door.

"Oh, I'm not in a rush so I can wait."

"Yes, well, the Reverend is a very busy man. And very particular about his visitors. If you like I can see if I can pencil you in for some time..." Braddock made a show of picking up her tablet from her desk and checking it. "...oh, half past April, 2045."

"Sorry, but I'm already booked up that day. Dentist appointment. The drill certainly makes for more pleasant conversation."

The other woman just smiled at their usual dance. "Well, I'm afraid I can't help you, then. Do give my sympathies to your dentist, will you?"

"Of course, if you would pass along my regards to your tailor. I'm actually impressed; if that hemline were any higher I wouldn't need to dig through the garbage to find all the trash I needed on the Reverend's office."

Ms. Braddock self-consciously tugged down on her skirt. "Is there anything else I can do for you today, Ms. Garner?"

"Yes, I have some questions about the Reverend's most recent remarks," Melita said, and pulled up her own iPad and tapped on the notepad and recorder.

"Ms. Garner," the other said, allowing a bit of impatience to creep into her voice. "It is neither my habit nor my place to discuss the Reverend's statements or policies. As I have already suggested to you many times in the past you may contact his press secretary. Or his lawyer. Though I am sure, as always, their response will be: 'No Comment.'"

"I'm sure you'll understand that I'm interested in an honest and candid response from the Reverend himself, not another prepared statement. I've got enough of them to choose from as it is."

"Well, I'm afraid you'll just have to live with the disappointment. Now then, I do thank you for your visit, and I'll be certain to tell the Reverend you stopped by, but I'm afraid he really doesn't have time for you or the headache you bring with—"

Braddock's dismissal was cut off by the ringing of Melita's phone. "Oh, I'm sorry to interrupt your barking, dear," Melita said. "Let me get this really quick."

Without even giving the younger woman a chance to respond to that remark, Melita settled her Bluetooth on her ear and picked up a call.

"Garner," she said. And as the caller spoke, her mouth fell open and she could barely find her voice to respond.

"Oh my god."

###

The courtyard was in shambles as David rounded the corner of the mansion. Nori had called her power and sped off, making her an electric-blue streak tearing along the path, and by the time he caught up with her again he was panting and out of breath. That's what I get for slacking off in Phys Ed. Nori stood frozen in the path ahead of him, and as David stumbled up beside her and surveyed the scene for himself, he could only imagine his expression matched the one of sheer horror frozen on Nori's features.

A thick column of smoke and flame rose from what had once been the charter bus, and debris lay everywhere; scraps of twisted metal, charred and shredded backpacks, suitcases, and other personal belongings. And then there were the bodies; blackened, bleeding, broken. Mr. Drake was spraying ice across the grisly, twisted remains of the bus to douse the fires, while Ms. Pryde and Ms. Marie — the latter apparently having borrowed the former's powers to phase through the sheets of flame that still burned out of control — desperately searched through the wreckage for survivors.

The air was alive with the cries of pain and agony of the wounded, and the fear and grief of the survivors and witnesses. Jessica Vale lay on the ground crying hysterically and screaming her sister's name, while Dr. Grey cradled the girl in her arms. As the rest of the student body poured out into the courtyard in response to the blast it was all the rest of the staff — Jubilee and Mr. Rasputin, Mr. Summers, Ms. Guthrie, Dr. McCoy, everyone was there — tried to keep them back even while they dug through the wreckage. A howl of grief and rage scattered many of them, and a quarter ton of living stone forced a path through the gathering, and not even the adults could hold Santo back as he stormed through the crowd, Victor perched on his shoulder, and started physically throwing debris aside in a mad, fruitless effort to reach anyone who might be alive.

Julian, Sofia, Cessily and Sooraya appeared as well, and Sooraya fell to her knees in prayer at the sight. Julian's hands glowed green and, breaking free from the support of Cessily and Sofia, rushed forward past the living barrier put up by the staff to put his own efforts into freeing anyone trapped within the charred wreckage.

"Oh my god," David said. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god."

He stumbled forward, his breathlessness from chasing after Nori forgotten. Heedless of the carnage, he rushed towards the bus, desperate to help and hoping to find someone, anyone still alive. He waded into the cooler parts where Mr. Drake had quenched the flames, and joined Santo in throwing the debris aside, trying not to throw up and fighting the hollowness in his stomach.

And all the while he kept telling himself: This was impossible. It couldn't be happening. It wasn't real.

###

Josh and Laurie forced their way through the crowd, and at once he felt his stomach lurch at the sight. Laurie froze at his side, and her hands covered her mouth. She immediately began to cry, and Josh knew it was as much the overwhelming feelings of terror of their classmates as they digested the scene as it was her own. "Laurie, go back inside," he said, and tried to gently push her back. But she didn't budge, and merely stood rooted in shock, somehow managing to hold her powers in check despite what he knew would be a barrage of emotion and her own grief.

"Joshua!" a girl cried, the voice cutting through the chaos from somewhere on the far side of the site. "Joshua!"

Josh swept his gaze across the crowd in an effort to pinpoint its source, then dove into the press of bodies, trying to force his way through. "Out of the way!" he cried. "Look out!"

He managed to dig a path through the crowd, and popped out somewhere around where the back end of the bus would have been. Jessica Vale was collapsed in Dr. Grey's arms in hysterics, calling out over and over again for her sister. Laura Kinney knelt not far away, her arms wrapped around a black shape stretched out on the ground in front of her. Almost as soon as he cleared the crowd Laura's head swiveled in his direction.

"Joshua!" she called again, and he realized now that it was her voice he heard. Josh rushed to her side to find her a bit rumpled, her hair in disarray, and her face smeared with blood, soot, and dirt, but otherwise she seemed completely unharmed. The same could not be said for Mark, who was a nearly unrecognizable mass of burned, torn, and bloodied clothing and flesh.

"Oh god," he said, and it was all he could do to keep his breakfast down.

"Mark...!" Laurie said in shock, her voice barely above a whisper as she pulled up short behind him.

"Joshua, can you help him?" Laura asked. There was a subtle tremor in his voice that if it were anyone other than Laura — whose voice was normally utterly calm and empty of emotion — he might have missed, and her green eyes were pleading.

"I don't know. This is really, really bad," he said, and reached out and laid his hands on Josh's chest (from the look in her eyes Josh didn't even bother asking Laura to get clear). "Hang on, buddy," he said, closed his eyes, and concentrated. Mark gurgled in pain as Josh's power coursed through him, and a muted golden glow spread outwards through his body from Josh's hands. "Come on, Mark!" Josh pleaded. "Come on!"

He concentrated. He put everything he could into it. Every bit he knew about biology and anatomy, and tried to make it all knit back together. But nothing responded. Nothing would do was he asked it to; as he willed it too. Mark writhed weakly at the pain of it, and it was a blessing the severity of the burns had destroyed most of the nerve endings, otherwise he would have been in unbearable agony. He felt the subtle encouragement of Laurie's pheromones, a buffer against the palpable grief of the crowd as they processed what had happened. But it was of no use. Josh collapsed backwards out of breath and unable to support himself. Had Laurie not caught him as he fell he would have collapsed entirely. He gasped raggedly in a vain effort to regain his breath, but the effort had drained him.

"I'm...I'm sorry," Josh said, and couldn't meet Laura's eyes.

"It's ok," Mark said weakly, and looked up at Laura, who had never let him go and remained where she kneeled, cradling him in her lap. "You're pretty like an angel."

Then he stilled, and didn't move again. Laura said nothing. She didn't even cry, and just remained as she was.

Tears flowed in rivers down Laurie's cheeks, and she buried her face in Josh's shoulder, and all he could do was put an arm around her and hold her while she wept.

###

Jean cradled Jessica Vale in her arms, and rocked the girl gently as she sobbed into her shoulder. The worst of the hysterics had passed, but she still clung tightly to her and wouldn't let go. Around her was a sea of chaos, fear, grief and anger, and as the collective thoughts buffeted her she had forcibly shut off her telepathy before it overwhelmed her. The sight of the mangled bodies of the children aboard the bus nauseated her, and it was all she could do to keep her own outrage under control.

By now the first response from the emergency calls was arriving. Sirens wailed as fire trucks, police, and ambulances arrived, and men and women vaulted out to attend to the chaos. News helicopters roared in overhead, and she knew it wouldn't be long before the press arrived in earnest. Hank rushed from body to body, directing the EMTs and trying to set priority cases, while others began the grim task of separating out the dead — there were far too many of them, all too young — and Jean had to fight back the tears welling up in her eyes.

The sounds of a brewing confrontation off to one side drew her attention from her own grief, however, and she craned her neck in that direction.

"Look, sweetie, I need you to let him go!"

Several EMTs — a woman and two men — were circled around Laura, who was clutching a body protectively against herself. Josh and Laurie were there as well, and one of the technicians was giving the former a quick looking over. Two police officers were also on their way to address the situation, and Jean felt bile rising up in her throat.

"There's nothing more you can do for him," the woman said.

Jean carefully eased off the block on her power and reached out to Laura, and the rage building in the girl nearly tore the breath from her lungs.

"Jubilee!" she shouted, seeking her out to give the call a bit of a telepathic boost. "Jubilee! I need you, now!"

Laura was coiling as if ready to spring as the EMTs and officers closed in around her, and Jean knew at once that any wrong move could turn this disaster into an even bigger tragedy. Jubilee responded quickly, however, and arrived at her side panting, and with her face a sickly green color. Jean pitied her immensely. Jubilee had been one of the children taken by Stryker a decade ago and for all the bravery she tried to show, she had never fully recovered from it. Now she was being forced to live through this nightmare.

"I'm here, what do you need?" she panted.

"Take care of Jessica, and try to get her back inside," Jean said, and turned to the girl cradled in her arms. "Sleep," she whispered into her ear, and reached out to her mind with the suggestion. "It's going to be ok, Jessica, just sleep."

Jessica Vale's sobs slowly subsided, and her body relaxed. Jubilee knelt down beside them, and Jean carefully passed the girl into her arms. Jessica shifted a bit and cuddled up close to Jubilee, freeing Jean to deal with the new situation. "I've got her," Jubilee said, and held the girl close.

Jean nodded, pushed away, and hurried over to the knot gathered around Laura, Josh, and Laurie. One of the police officers was moving in to physically pull Laura away from the body she was clutching, and Jean quickly interposed herself between them. "That's enough!" she snapped. "Everybody back off, now!" She once again added a bit of telepathy to her forceful tone, and the officers and techs all stood away as she eased herself down next to Laura.

"Laura," she said, and carefully reached out to take her by the shoulder. It was a tremendously risky move, but though Laura flinched at the touch, she remained in control of herself. Jean looked down at the body cradled in her lap, and her heart sunk at the sight of Mark Sheppard staring sightlessly at the sky. "Laura, I'm sorry."

Laura's shoulders were slumped, and though she gazed at Mark's still form, it was almost as if she wasn't even seeing him. Jean refrained from reaching out to her with her mind, knowing full well just what it was she was feeling at this moment. "He's gone," she said gently. "I'm so sorry, but you have to let him go."

"He asked me to come with him," she said, her voice empty of emotion. But though Jean didn't know her nearly as well as Logan did, the pain she was feeling now was as clear to her as if Laura had worn it on her sleeve for all the world to see.

"Come on. It's time to let him go."

Jean didn't reach out with her power. She wouldn't touch her like that; the feeling that she was being pushed or influenced in such a manner could be devastating to what little was holding Laura together emotionally. And fortunately, she didn't have to. Laura released her hold on Mark's still body, and rose and allowed Jean to lead her away. The EMTs moved in, uselessly making one last check of Mark's vitals, before beginning the grim task of loading him up to cart away. Josh and Laurie followed her as she gently guided Laura with an arm around her shoulder, while Josh leaned heavily on Laurie for support. His face was drawn and pale, and he was shaking.

"Josh, are you hurt?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No, ma'am," he said weakly. "I just... I tried. I tried to put him back together, but I couldn't do it. I tried to save him, but..."

"I know," Jean said. "You three get back inside, I need you to help get everyone back inside so the EMTs can do their work."

Josh pulled away from Laurie, and swayed uneasily on his feet. "No! I can't leave them!" he said. "Dr. Grey, I can help!"

"Josh you can barely stand!" And as if in emphasis of the point, his legs nearly gave way beneath him and only the quick action of Laurie throwing her arms around his waist kept him from collapsing entirely.

"I don't care!" he yelled, loud enough to draw the attention of those nearest them.

"Jean," Hank said from a knot of students he was checking over nearby. Most of them were battered and cut, and there were a few burns — most apparently from burning gasoline sprayed on them in the blast — but none of it appeared too severe. "Could you send Josh over here, please? There are a few milder cases I could use his help with so I can get back to directing the responders on the more serious cases."

Jean allowed a small smile to creep onto her lips. Henry's hearing hasn't diminished at all as he's gotten older. "Right away, Henry." She turned her attention back to Josh. "Go see Dr. McCoy, but take it easy, and don't over-exert yourself."

"Yes, Doctor," he said.

"Laurie, can you please take Laura back inside? And please, help me get the others into the school, we need to take a roll call."

Laurie looked uncertainly at Laura, who had huddled down into her oversized jacket — Logan's old biker jacket, as she recalled. Jean made a mental note to contact him and make sure he checked in with her — and on the surface, at least, appeared to withdraw into herself. Jean, however, felt the storm of despair and anger boiling beneath the surface. Laura kept it buried, but she knew it would be straining to be released.

"I'm not sure I'm the best person to help," Laurie said, her own voice shaking, and her cheeks raw with tears. Jean regarded her for a moment, and could see the strain so much sorrow and fear from the people around her was inflicting on her, and quickly recognized that Laurie, too, was on the verge of losing control over herself

Jean just smiled and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Laurie, trust me, you may be the best person I can imagine for this task," she said, and lent her a small amount of telepathic encouragement. "Much like the Professor, you have a gift to share the pain of others, but you can give them strength in ways even he can't."

She sniffled, and looked apprehensively at the crowd of students gathered around the site. Sooraya was still knelt in prayer, and Sofia and Cessily were crying into each other's shoulders. Colossus, his organic steel armor gleaming in the light of the sun and the smoldering fires, had finally managed to restrain Santo and pushed him clear of the wreckage where he had been desperately trying to dig out any survivors, while Julian wrestled with Scott and Ororo as they tried to pull him back, as well. Melody Guthrie was weeping into her sister's shoulder, while Paige anxiously searched the crowd, and only relaxed when she saw Jay, his copper-feathered wings hanging slumped behind him, near the entrance to the school.

Jean couldn't pick out any other individual faces in the frenetic activity around the wreck, but as she loosened her hold on her powers she felt them all. David and Noriko's spat forgotten in the chaos. Kevin Ford anxiously searching the crowd for Laurie. Quentin Quire's uncharacteristic silence. Ilyana Rasputin simmering with anger. She felt them all. Their fear. Their anger. Their anguish. And above all one question:

Why?

Laurie nodded. "Ok. I'll try."

Jean smiled, and gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Thank you," she said.

Laurie hesitantly reached out to Laura and put an arm around her shoulder, and the smaller girl consented to being led away towards the school, while the rescue crews worked around them.

###

Act V

###

Stryker studied the image on his monitor with satisfaction. Though the flames had been extinguished, smoke continued to rise from the wreckage of the bus as emergency vehicles crowded the courtyard of Xavier's school. News crews had, of course, responded quickly, and the video feed from the helicopter hovering overhead told him all he needed to know: The operation was a success.

"The device seems to have done its job quite nicely," Stryker said.

"Yes, sir," Risman's voice said over his Bluetooth headset. "Observers on-site indicated it exploded a few minutes prematurely, otherwise more of them would have been aboard."

"Still, quite an effective result. Do you have an estimate, yet?"

"No, sir. I thought it best not to risk moving too close after Standish's mistake."

Stryker nodded absently, not particularly considering that Risman would be unable to see the gesture. It had been a risk ordering the operation, he knew, but the opportunity to strike — however early it might have been — had been too good. "It seems our young friend Mr. Guthrie's intelligence was quite invaluable."

"Do you intend to continue using him, then, Reverend?"

"I do indeed, for as long as he may still be useful. He was not, I trust, caught in the blast?"

"I don't believe, so, sir, the tracking device is still functioning normally. There were casualties from bystanders near the bus, but he doesn't appear to have been one of them."

Stryker leaned back in his seat and twined his fingers together. "Very good, Matthew. Do give my regards to your contact at the depot who identified which bus was being dispatched."

"I will, sir, is there anything else?"

"Not at this time, no. I'm sure Mr. Guthrie will be paying me a visit in the aftermath of this horrible tragedy, so I must make myself suitably presentable. Tell the others to meet at the warehouse. I believe it's time to start putting the rest of our plans into action."

"Yes, sir."

"Thank you, Matthew, God bless you."

"God bless you, Reverend," Risman said, and disconnected the call.

Stryker chuckled softly to himself. It was a small victory, and only a sample of the righteous fire that was to come, but he couldn't imagine anything that would wound Xavier more than seeing these so-called children he harbored lying mangled and broken, knowing that for all his powers and resources he couldn't protect them from God's retribution.

There was a knock at the door, and Stryker hastily closed out of the feed he was watching. "Yes, come in," he said.

The door opened a crack, and Elizabeth poked her head through. "I'm sorry to disturb you, Reverend, but I thought you should see this at once."

"What is it?" he asked.

Elizabeth slipped through the doorway and strutted the length of his inner office. He idly thought he ought to reprimand her on the abbreviated length of her skirt, but he had to admit a man in his position was certainly due some fringe benefits. She carried a tablet tucked under her arm, and as she reached his desk tapped a few things, then presented it to him.

It was the same feed he had just been watching.

"This just came in over the news," she said, and her face was a ghastly greenish color. Ms. Braddock, of course, was merely a contract worker sent by an agency when he found himself in need of a secretary to manage his public office, and not a believer herself, so it was to be expected she would still have some degree of sympathy for these abominations. Such a shame, really, as she's quite the lovely creature otherwise. "Someone detonated a bomb at the Xavier School this morning."

"Dear heaven," he said, putting on his best and most sincere expression of horror. "Was anyone hurt?"

Elizabeth swallowed, and wiped a few tears away. "They've confirmed some of the children were killed, but that's all so far. How could anyone do such a thing? They were just children!"

"The world is full of monsters, Ms. Braddock." He made a show of considering the feed for her benefit, and kept his voice appropriately subdued. "Do you still have Ms. Garner's contact information on file?"

"Yes, Reverend," she said. "She was actually here this morning and tried to get into your office, but I'd stopped her as I knew you didn't wish to be disturbed. Then she got a call about what I must assume was this..." She waved at the tablet with one hand, and rubbed her throat with the other. "...and left."

"Do be a dear and contact her for me, please. Let her know I wish to make a statement in regards to this horrible tragedy."

Elizabeth nodded. "Yes, sir," she said. "Will there be anything else?"

Stryker shut down the tablet's news feed and handed it back to her. "That will be all, Ms. Braddock. Please see to it that I'm not disturbed. I...I must pray."

"Yes, Reverend," she said. Elizabeth accepted the tablet back from him and hurried from the office. Stryker sat back in his chair and folded his hands in front of him as he watched her go, and as she closed the door the smile returned to his face.

###

They gathered in his office. Jean and Scott sat across the desk from the Professor. Hank was still busy tending to the most severely injured in the medical bay, while Jubilee and Paige faced the task of comforting and controlling the students. Jean reached out with her power, and their sorrow and fear hung like a dense fog over the school. No one had escaped without losing a friend in the explosion, and the survivors would carry those scars all their lives. It was a burden that none of them should have had to bear. Times were supposed to be different. They were supposed to be safe. Now, it felt like all the efforts of the past decade were for nothing.

Peter stood silently next to Kitty, working his jaw, and the bulging muscles of his massive arms and neck tensed as if he wished to tear the building apart stone by stone — and from her casual read of his mind, Jean wasn't quite so sure the otherwise gentle giant of a man wasn't ready to do just that — and only Kitty's gentle touch on his arm kept him restrained. Kitty herself, her face still smudged with soot and dust from her efforts phasing through the wreckage in search of survivors, was tired and crestfallen. Bobby stood with Marie in a corner, his usual good humor gone as he enfolded her in his arms. His own thoughts stood out quite clearly: how desperately he wished to do more but unable to do so because of her power. Marie, who had seen more and worse than almost all of the younger generation of the staff save perhaps Jubilee, stood stoic and appreciative of what comfort he could give.

Outside the professor's window lightning flashed and a slow rain fell, and behind her and Scott stood Ororo, the storm outside an empathic response to her own grief. All of them were charged to protect these children. To shield and teach them, and to prepare them to go out into the world.

They had failed them.

Xavier sat slumped in his chair, his thoughts closed to her, and his hands steepled in front of him. The only sound was the rain rattling against the window and the occasional roll of thunder, and in the relative silence even the distant sounds of crying could be heard.

Finally, the Professor spoke, and his voice was raw.

"How many?" he asked. A simple question, but never before had Jean heard more pain in Charles Xavier's voice as in that moment.

"Twenty-three," Scott said, his voice subdued, and his own stoicism strained to its breaking point. Silent tears rolled down his cheeks, and Jean reached out and took his hand. "Some were on the bus, others were caught in the blast."

Xavier closed his eyes. "Twenty-three."

"Do we know what happened?" Ororo asked, more out of a need to force the question out onto the table than for any real doubts as to the cause.

"Hank found the remains of a device that had been planted in the engine compartment," Scott said. "The investigators took possession of it, but he's been working with them on the analysis. They haven't released their conclusion yet, but Hank is certain it was a bomb."

Jean could feel from the thoughts of the others that no one was really surprised by that.

"We haven't seen this sort of radical violence in a decade," Xavier said, and Jean couldn't help but notice just how old and tired the Professor was looking in that moment. His face was gray and haggard, and the fire and twinkle in his eyes were gone. All that was left in their place was a worn-out old man in a wheelchair.

"We have to do something about this," Peter said, accompanied by vocal agreement from the rest of the younger staff. "We can't let this...this murder go unanswered, Professor."

"What we have to do first is look to the safety and well-being of the children we were supposed to protect," Xavier said sternly. "We have failed them. I have failed them, and we cannot do that again."

"Professor—" Scott began, but Xavier cut him off.

"You were right, Scott," Xavier said wearily. "I should have listened more closely, but you were right about everything."

"You didn't expect this. None of us did. Not this."

"Scott's right, Professor," Jean said, and squeezed her husband's hand. "I don't know that any amount of caution could have prevented this. Someone intended to hurt these children, and somehow they would have found a way. And you were right this morning: Cancelling our own plans out of fear would have been as much a victory for those responsible as the deaths they caused."

Xavier didn't answer for a moment, and just sat studying his hands as he clasped them in front of him on his desk. Another low rumble of thunder shook the glass of his office windows, and lightning briefly lit the side of his face.

"Scott," he finally said, "I would like you to take control of all matters regarding the safety of the children from this point forward. Until we can ensure a tragedy of this nature does not happen again I wish for none of them to leave the grounds unaccompanied by a member of this staff."

Scott started to say something, but thought otherwise of it and nodded. "What about those due to go home this weekend?"

"I will handle the calls to the families and make the individual arrangements personally for any who still wish to go, though I would advise against it until we can ensure their safety. Jean, please pass the word along that we will not be resuming classes as planned next Monday. I feel it is important we attempt to resume some semblance of normalcy eventually, but we also need to give them time."

"Yes, Professor," she said.

Xavier swept his gaze across all of them, and took them all in. "I have pledged my life to teaching these children and helping them find their place in the world, as I did with all of you. I cannot allow this act of barbarism destroy everything we in this community have built.

"Scott, I would like you to work closely with the authorities. Give them whatever resources and assistance they ask of us and require to track down those responsible. And use any contacts we have to get as much information ourselves. Work within the law as best you can."

"And if we can't?" Scott asked.

Xavier gazed levelly at him. "Then we will cross that bridge when we come to it."

Scott nodded.

The Professor sighed. "None of you were trained for something like this, but you all know your responsibilities. Please see to them."

There was more than a little alarm at Xavier's brusque dismissal, but none of them were prepared to second-guess him now. So singly or in pairs the gathering broke up. Scott and Jean were the last to leave, but as Scott passed through the door, Jean hesitated a moment and looked back at Xavier.

"Professor?" she said.

"Yes, Jean," he asked wearily.

"I'm afraid this is only the beginning."

He studied her closely. "Do you sense something?"

She shook her head. "No, nothing specific. But whatever happened today, I think it's only going to get worse."

"All we can do is whatever we can to be ready, and to protect the ones in our care," he said.

"I know, Professor." She hesitated a moment as she considered how to say what was on her mind. "This wasn't your fault. I hope you can see that. They'll need you. We all need you. You've always been there for us, and you're the rock that we draw strength from. Whatever happens next, we can't make it through without you."

Xavier smiled at her. She couldn't quite be sure whether her words came as the comfort she intended, as there was great sadness and the weight of a heavy burden in that smile. "There are things that I could tell you of paths not taken," he said, "And of how one man — one moment — in time can define the future, and of the true power of faith. A very good friend once taught me how faith and hope is sometimes all you need to see you through, no matter how dark the night."

Jean reached out to him with her power, and though his thoughts were still veiled, she somehow felt she knew just who the Professor was referring to. She smiled back at him. "He sounds like he was a very wise man."

"Indeed he is, though sometimes he doesn't realize it himself. Do not fear for me, Jean. I long ago resolved never to lose faith again, and that is a vow I intend to keep."

She nodded and started out of his office, pausing briefly to look back at him one last time before stepping out into the hall and closing the door behind her.

###

Xavier watched her go, and as the door shut he buried his face in his hands, and for a long time all he could do was weep.

---

A Note From The Author

Much like 1x08, this was an incredibly difficult episode to write, though not from a technical standpoint. It was actually very easy to get down (as evidenced by the short turn-around after 1x08), but I realized just how controversial this particular event of Kyle and Yost's run on New X-Men was. I'm sure many of you who are familiar with that book were anticipating, and possibly dreading, this moment, but for all the mixed feelings it generates among readers I felt it was too important to the development of the cast to NOT include.

My biggest regret in how this episode turned out is one that I've had from the start: By limiting myself to 13 episodes per "season," I'm just not leaving myself a lot of room to develop more of the student body, so the bus bombing may not have the impact as it could have had. The only character we've gotten to know was Mark, and it was his dying flirtations with her in the book that partly inspired the development of that relationship in the fic. I would have really liked to have expanded on it further, but unfortunately I have so many characters and so few episodes I just really didn't have the time. I also did want to work in a few nods to other characters killed on the bus, so I made a point of at least naming Brian Cruz and Sarah Vale.

Otherwise, this episode also presents a little bit of how I'm planning to handle Magik's power, and we get a few more hints about Laura. And as many of you already guessed, that is indeed Psylocke serving as Stryker's secretary. She was a guest star I'd been toying with adding in part to show my spin on how I would work both her background and her most iconic look, without the problems of the body swapping craziness that defines her in the books. So my solution was to make her an Englishwoman of Japanese descent, which I think works quite well. Betsy also provides a nice bit of a bridge for piecing together the season finale. As for why she's working for Stryker? Well, for that you're just going to have to stay tuned...