-X- X-Men: Foundations part 2: Changing World Summary Chapter 1: Bright Stars Chapter 2:Stand Still Chapter 3: Empire State University Chapter4: Distant Early Warnings Chapter 5: Brand Annex Chapter 6: Open Secrets Chapter 7: Change of Faith Chapter 8:Winter Breaks Chapter 9: Healing Breaks Chapter 10: Ice Skate Eve Chapter 11: Razor's Edge Chapter 12:Last Call Chapter 13: Thoughts Ignite Chapter 14: Red Tide Chapter 15: The Pass Chapter 16: Spring Breaks Chapter 17: Kid Gloves Chapter 18: Second Natures Chapter 19: Prime Movers Chapter 20: Moving Parts Chapter 21: Barriers Fall Chapter 22: Hand Over Hand Chapter 23: Hand Over Fist Chapter 24: Open Hand Chapter 25: Open Hand Closed Fist Chapter 26: Racing Heart -XX-
X-Men: Foundations part 2: Changing World
Chapter 1
-X-
New York. Circa 1987.
Bright Stars
Empire State University. September. New York City.
Squinting against brilliantly bright daylight on the other side of tinted car windows, Scott Summers pinched his fingers to the bridge of his nose to secure his glasses and ducked his head to climb from the back of Professor Charles Xavier’s vintage 1959 Bentley. Scott followed Ororo Monroe out into a picture-perfect, blue sky afternoon on the campus of Empire State University, where the two of them stood on the sidewalk amid throngs of ESU students bustling about between move in, welcome events, and class registration. “Jean?” Ororo asked. Scott paused in his scan of their new surroundings to turn back to the car, following Ororo’s line of sight toward the object of her worried tone. Jean Grey had yet to join them. “I’ll be right behind you,” Jean answered. Her voice sounded strained. “There’s just... a lot of people here,” she trailed off. Scott winced. He felt something in his head, like a microphone squealing with feedback, as Jean closed her eyes and lifted a hand to her own forehead, as if shielding herself from bright light. Her fingers danced with nervous motion, no doubt working on her mental shielding, making an effort to push all those other voices from her mind. Scott moved toward her instinctively, to do what he didn’t know. He had to remind himself this wasn’t a Danger Room exercise. This was real life and there was very little he could do to back her up in the middle of a crowded college campus surrounded by an even more crowded city– not when the problem was literally everyone around her. And Scott felt the fool. For someone who was supposed to be sharp, he could be really dim sometimes! As this day had drawn closer he’d worried over its implications for the team and their mission, what the move would mean for Xavier and his Institute. He’d spent a great deal of time worrying over logistics for himself, specifically his glasses. He’d given thought to Ororo’s concerns over assimilating into the big city (when her worry was placed right in front of him), and he’d tried to understand Xavier’s, Hank’s, Warren’s, and Jean’s insistences that this move really was a good idea in spite of Scott’s misgivings. But for all his angst, he’d completely missed what now seemed like the most obvious and most immediate obstacle in their path. No, it wasn’t a Danger Room exercise, but from Jean’s perspective it might as well have been. Except this was an exercise without a stop switch or any safety mechanisms. And Scott had completely failed to see that! It had never occurred to him that she was testing herself in a trial-by-fire fashion just by being here. Jean had never let on that the possibility worried her. Just the opposite, this was where Jean wanted to be, studying to become a doctor, and that had been true for as long as Scott had known her. Given that foreknowledge, he hadn’t considered that Jean might also have misgivings. He hadn’t so much as asked if she had worries or doubts of her own. He’d never stopped to look at this move from Jean’s perspective, never stopped to think that, like Ororo and himself, Jean might have her own unique set of reasons for not wanting to be here. He couldn’t afford to make those mistakes... and yet he kept making them! True to form, Summers, he dressed himself down internally. You looked at it from every angle except the most important one... the most human one. The one that left his team telepath ambushed by the thoughts and emotions of everyone surrounding her. The one that left him completely helpless when his best friend needed a rescue. And that was the real rub. It wasn’t just that he hadn’t seen this coming; he hadn’t anticipated a circumstance that had the potential to hurt someone close to him. Minute one of day one. He’d already lost control of the situation. How the hell did he let this happen?! Just yesterday, he’d had everything under control.
-x-
22 Hours Ago.... Xavier Institute. Danger Room.
“Excellent job, team!” Cyclops took his time, speaking individually to his teammates before they left the Danger Room, offering each of them feedback and encouragement, because tasks of leadership and team-building didn’t end when the training exercises were completed. And also, he couldn’t deny that for purely selfish reasons Scott wanted to make this moment last just a little bit longer. He wanted to bask in the satisfaction of knowing that he was exactly where he was meant to be, doing the one thing in the world that came completely naturally to him. This moment felt not just right but complete. For short bursts of time, when he could just let Cyclops be in charge of the mission at hand, Scott Summers understood the world and his place in it. Scott looked up to the Danger Room’s control and observation booth, nicknamed the COB, both as acronym and a descriptor (its rectangular frame protruded out into the massive open expanse of the Danger Room like a corn cob). Through the glass he could see Professor X smiling proudly down on his students, his X-Men. Two years ago Professor Charles Xavier had chosen Scott, Ororo, and Jean, not just as students but as prospective heirs, each of them suited to carry out his dream, his life’s work. They were to be the first of Xavier’s gifted students. And they, along with Hank and Warren – who had worked alongside Xavier to establish the Xavier Institute for Gifted Students – also formed the X-Men: Cyclops, Storm, Jean Grey, Beast, and Angel. Now at the end of their third summer together, Xavier’s first three students were on the verge of making their own ways in the world. That truth made this particular moment a bittersweet one. “Good work today, Jean.” “Jean smiled up at him. “Right back at ya, Fearless Leader.” Scott planted both hands alongside his belt, leveling a patented deadpan expression that said: I am not amused. Jean only winked in response, already teasing him with her use of the nickname she knew annoyed him. It annoyed him mostly because it had stuck, throughout the entire team, no matter how many times he took issue with the concept. It wasn’t true, and he’d repeated that objection until it was a familiar refrain: “Leader or no, no one is ‘fearless’, not if they have any sense at all.” Hank gave his shoulder a pat. “That is exactly what a fearless leader would say.” Scott opened his mouth only to close it again, conceding the argument with a shake of his head. “Let’s concentrate on the training debrief,” he concluded tersely, “one last time around.” He watched Jean and Hank exchange mischievous smiles as they split past Scott to file out of the Danger Room, side by side. Oddly, their leaving struck him as something a little ominous, or at least as something more permanent than it was. Today’s was the last session of the week, which normally meant a weekly review... but in this case it was also the last session of the summer. Their last training session for the foreseeable future. A few seconds later Scott’s melancholy drew a curious backward glance, along with the hint of a reassuring smile from Jean. “Ro, War, you two coming?” Jean called past him. Ororo approached Scott. “Warren and I would like to work in here a little more if our presence is not urgently needed for the debrief.” “That’s fine,” Scott nodded before he turned to follow Hank and Jean. “We’ll call down if we need you. “Thank God!” Warren exclaimed in relief, and enthusiastically took flight. Scott, Hank, and Xavier usually handled the bulk of their daily training debriefings. The other team members rotated in and out of dailies in accordance with their own interests in the proceedings unless Scott or Xavier expressly called the whole team or specific members in. The X-Men were Xavier’s creation but he shared responsibility for them with Scott, assigning Cyclops as the team’s field leader. Meaning, in the field, on missions, the team was solely Cyclops’s responsibility. But leadership duties more often overlapped in the training phases; here, the two of them worked in tandem by design. Today it was Scott who shut down the training simulation (acting like a team captain, or a quarterback) while it was Xavier who called the team in for debrief (acting as team coach). The designation meant far more to Scott than an assignment he’d been given or a responsibility that he’d taken on. Xavier had picked Scott out, not with this purpose specifically in mind, but he had seen potential when Scott’s talents for both leadership and strategic thinking had presented themselves. Beyond that, Xavier had believed in Scott at a time when Scott didn’t believe... in much of anything, and certainly wouldn’t have seen such potential in himself. “How about you, Jean?” Scott asked, noticing that Jean had come to a pause to hear Ororo’s request. Jean attended the dailies more often than not, though she usually ribbed Scott over her motives for doing so (“If I don’t sit through these things who else will keep you from beating yourself up unnecessarily?”). Scott knew she was partly joking, but only partly. Jean had a way of doing that, joking about his flaws and foibles in a way that brought them to his attention without accusation or attack. Neither guarding nor shaming his ego, simply acting out of honest concern for him. Like family. Like a best friend. Like his trusted teammate and co-leader. Jean was all of those things. “Are you kidding?” Jean fell into stride beside him as she and Scott reached the elevator where Hank stood waiting for them. “There’s no way I’m going to miss this!” Scott lifted an eyebrow in curiosity at her enthusiasm, which seemed a bit over-the-top, even if her intention was to rib him over his own undue level of enthusiasm. Even with most of their training sessions and mock missions ending in success these days, Scott still took the debriefs very seriously. However, he didn’t expect the rest of his teammates to share in his obsessive-compulsive enthusiasm for picking apart the training exercise they had just completed. That was one of the many shades of gray he’d discovered between being a team player and leading the team. One of his primary responsibilities as team leader was to keep everyone playing from their strengths. That meant determining what was important, vital, or unnecessary for each member of the team. It did no good to force Angel to sit through dry debriefing meetings when he wanted to work on flying drills, for instance. A few seconds later Scott, Hank, and Jean emerged from the elevator into the COB where Xavier was waiting for them, his wheelchair positioned at the head of a large oval table which filled the interior of the room. Everyone settled into their usual positions around the table except for Jean. She remained standing by the floor-to-ceiling observation windows that overlooked the Danger Room – where Storm was already whipping up cyclone force winds from the floor below – and Scott abruptly understood Jean’s elevated interest in this debrief. She wanted a COB’s eye view of Ororo and Warren’s exercises. That understanding was something Scott would likely have missed not so long ago. He would have been too focused on the debrief to note that Jean’s attention was more divided than his own. Cyclops had always been obsessive over the mission. He’d had to learn to be obsessive over his team as well. He’d learned it was necessary to give equal time and attention to each: the success of the team as a whole, and its members as individuals. Scott readily credited his more balanced perceptions toward team leadership to Xavier’s guidance, and to Jean’s presence in particular. To his way of thinking, Scott owed a great deal more of the credit for their successes to his teammates than to himself. When Scott first accepted the lead role he’d thought it was simply about knowing what to do. Having a plan and following it. Making assignments and giving orders. He’d assumed, wrongly, that his job ended at issuing those orders, assuming that would be enough to accomplish the task. He’d since learned that the plan was a fluid thing with infinite possible outcomes, ranging from complete success to ultimate failure. He’d studied military history, learned to anticipate, follow up, adjust his strategy. Through a summer of team training that had included a series of spectacular successes – and sometimes equally spectacular failures – Scott had learned the ins and outs of leadership. He consistently found that his failures, mistakes, misconceptions– those things were often his best teachers. Even when they made the learning experience painful and uncomfortable, he learned the most about what he needed to do moving forward from what he’d done wrong in the past. That was a big part of why he liked the debriefs. They fit his exacting nature... almost too well. If left to his own devices Scott could bury himself so deeply in tape study that he lost all track of time and forgot about things like food or sleep. He had done so, in fact, often enough that Jean had finally staged an intervention. After that, Xavier restricted tape review to scheduled dailies. Jean had a way of keeping him in check like that. Appropriate for both a second in command and a best friend. She knew him well enough to see where his particular brand of doggedness was needed and when it was doing him harm. She told him that too, the good along with the bad, without reservation. Not letting him lose faith in himself, not letting him lose sight of himself. Today’s debrief began with a summary. Everyone present offered thoughts on the session’s highs and lows. Then Hank played the tape for review. In addition to providing his thoughts on the session, Hank would generally review tape with an eye for technical and performance improvements; he was largely responsible for making sure that the Danger Room itself, plus all of the team’s gear and equipment, was top notch. Scott tended to focus on the overall effectiveness of the team as he watched the tape. It was easier for him to evaluate the whole from an objective distance, while Xavier would often evaluate the effectiveness of individual team members – roughly the opposite of what tended to happen in real time. On the tape, Angel plummeted from his perch as the mutant they were pursuing melted a railing, leaving Beast to dangle from the edge of a fire escape. Angel caught him and dropped him to safety below. Cyclops targeted any falling debris, while Storm swept the remnants away before anyone below could be harmed. Jean was there to pull Cyclops and Storm to safety with her telekinesis. By now they were a well-oiled team in these sorts of situations. There were always improvements to be made, weaknesses to shore up, but the bulk of their skills had improved steadily for much of the summer. Scott glanced in Jean’s direction. While remaining attentive to the debrief, she was also still watching Storm and Angel down in the Danger room, drilling on wind control. Jean took in the debriefs with a focus on their previous training missions. Always noting growth, progress, potential. After the tape study intervention, Xavier had asked Jean to be responsible for the planning and evaluation of their more general training exercises (exactly the type Ororo and Warren were currently engaged in) as a way to help take some of that load off Scott. But it was more than just a restructuring of team training duties. Jean was intuitively focused on people in a way Scott simply wasn’t, or perhaps in ways that Scott struggled with. There had been a lot of growing pains before the team gelled, before Scott was able to find his own footing, before Jean made peace with her own place on the team. Often, those growing pains had translated into personal friction between Jean and Scott. Like Cyclops, Jean’s recent progress was impressive. But unlike Cyclops, Jean hadn’t always been sure those changes were for the better. She’d started out more reluctantly than he had – uncertain of her own abilities and deeply unsettled when Xavier had given her the added responsibility of co-leadership, primarily having her coordinate the team’s field communications. But Jean had steadily gained confidence in her new role as she learned to use her telekinesis and telepathy to greater degrees and in more practical ways. Meanwhile, Scott had rapidly gained his own skills as a leader. Eventually Cyclops found a successful leadership style, earning him the trust and respect of his teammates. And as for Jean Grey, each time she met a challenge, Jean exceeded expectations – often thoroughly surprising Scott in the process. The remainder of the debrief reel played itself out while Scott, Hank, and Xavier continued to break down – or obsess over – the mission, depending on your point of view. All while Jean kept a watchful eye on Storm and Angel’s exercises: currently a hover and slingshot maneuver. Bringing his attention back to the taped footage, Scott watched as the team made their final approach: Cyclops in the lead, with Jean covering him. That maneuver was second nature to them now; they made a good combination in that way: offense and defense. His blasts and her telekinesis working in unison. Hank and Angel dispersed to cover the perimeters. Cyclops didn’t have to give those orders anymore; his team knew how this worked. Two of them covered the final approach and two of them covered their surroundings. That way the team member handling final approach could keep undivided attention on that task. In this case Storm made final approach. Their target was a mutant teenager, who – after a little cajoling, a few questions, and a convincing recruiting pitch from Storm – was willing to be recruited for enrollment at the school. The tape ended shortly after that accomplishment. Xavier closed down the program and the Danger Room construct vanished from view, leaving just the team standing on a barren floor in one of the Institute’s sub basements. Scott nursed a frown despite his team’s successful performance. This was their purpose. Their end goal, to make this school a safe haven for other young mutants. Clearly these were the types of missions Xavier wanted them to be ready for in the future. They’d made enormous progress toward that end. And yet, their missions weren’t going beyond the Danger Room. They were ready, and it seemed to Scott they should be out in the world, finding and actively recruiting others like Scott, Ororo, and Jean to the school... instead they were preparing for a completely different transition. That sudden feeling of disconnect boiled over into confusion, which Scott voiced somewhat to his own surprise. “Professor–” Scott paused. “Are you absolutely certain this move is for the best?” Xavier smiled, that characteristic smile that made Scott feel certain he was missing something– something that was both painfully obvious and right there in front of him. “You worry too much, Scott,” Xavier replied, patiently. Scott smiled back, a silent acknowledgment for his mentor’s statement of the obvious. Both of them knew that – hell, anyone who met Scott probably knew that; he was surprised Jean wasn’t snickering – but Xavier’s statement of fact did nothing to settle the matter, at least not for Scott. “We’ve made so much progress over the last few months. A prolonged disruption to team training could set us back significantly, and I don’t want to see that success atrophy due to inaction. That risk simply doesn’t seem worth it to me. Not for the sake of full-time college enrollment. Especially not when we could just as easily be here, continuing both our studies and our training simultaneously.” Xavier wasn’t worried by that possibility. “And the vast majority of that progress has been earned over the course of a single summer devoted to team training. You three will return here over consequent summer breaks and your team training will continue.” Scott opened his mouth to object but Xavier continued on without allowing the interruption. “The rest of your time will be spent in study and classroom learning, just as it would be if you three were to remain here.” Xavier saw no reason for their priorities to shift so abruptly. He remained insistent that the X-Men was only one of their goals. The school also remained a top priority. The Xavier Institute for Gifted Students would have to be further expanded if they were to take in more young mutants, and it would need more teachers to fulfill that mission. If Scott, Ororo, and Jean were to help fill those roles they would first need to pursue their own higher educations. That was how they had come to this particular impasse. Xavier insisted that splitting their time and attention between the Institute and college classes in the city would result in insufficient attention given to either, while Scott insisted they could do both and argued that the team should take a higher priority than college classes. Xavier saw no reason for their priorities to shift so abruptly, but Scott saw things differently. For the past few weeks they had been periodically having different versions of this conversation. And again, Scott was forced to concede that Xavier was right, at least from a purely factual standpoint. Gradual self-mastery of their mutant abilities had always been an essential part of their education, but the enormous progress of this past summer had been an exception rather than a rule. Their current focus on team training had shifted abruptly earlier in the summer, after Jack Winters (revealing himself as a mutant who had begun calling himself Jack’O Diamonds), had emerged and been defeated, at cost, by a very green team of X-Men. Since then, training as a team to face such potentially dangerous mutants had become Scott’s top priority as Cyclops. Scott repressed a heavy sigh. While he couldn’t argue with hard fact, nor was he dense enough to challenge Xavier’s settled decision without fresh cause, he simply didn’t think the decision was as straightforward as Xavier made it sound. Scott had spoken to Hank, Warren, Jean, and Ororo as well; his opinion continued to be the minority one. As such, he hadn’t brought it up in an official setting, as Cyclops evaluating the team, until now. But today, if nothing else, he thought it was time to give the rest of his team an opportunity to weigh in on the debate before this move was made final. It was easy to simply focus on tasks and abilities, but leadership, real leadership, was much more than that. It was equally about intangibles: belief, hope, inspiration, trust. He’d learned that in a very concrete way when the team had battled Shadow King and rescued Xavier’s mind from the demon, D’Spayre. Most battles weren’t so literally mind over matter. But in that case they’d had to rely heavily on Jean’s abilities to help Xavier thwart D’Spayre, aided by Ororo’s bold confidence in battling the Shadow King. When faced with a reality where nothing was as it should be and everything could change in an instant, he’d learned all over again the value of trust and belief in his teammates. Working together, they’d helped Xavier break free from D’Spayre and sent D’Spayre and the Shadow King back into exile in a demon realm– a thing which none of them had even suspected to exist a short time prior. They had been better prepared for that challenge than they had been against Jack O’Diamonds... but, in Scott’s opinion, that progress only proved there was still much work to be done. “A few weeks ago we were fighting supernatural beings. Before that it was a ruthless and dangerous outlaw mutant. There are things out there we’re not ready for yet– this can’t be the right thing for us to do, not right now,” Scott argued. They had fought too hard for this to simply put their hard-won gains on hold. “Yes, now,” Xavier insisted. “Scott, there will always be a reason why not. Challenges we are unprepared for, no matter how hard we plan or train. Life still has to go on despite those things. Sooner or later, you have to learn when to let go.” Scott stood, restlessly, and paced over to the window where Jean stood with her shoulder to the glass, her arms casually crossed, positioned to watch both this room and the Danger Room below. She was silently following the exchange between Scott and Xavier. He glanced in her direction before casually seating himself on the window ledge beside her, taking in the fact that Jean remained uncharacteristically silent now. She wasn’t trying to tactfully redirect the conversation, as she sometimes did when she thought fresh perspective was needed. Scott looked next to Hank for a second opinion. “To thine own self be true,” Hank offered with a mild shrug. “I agree with Charles in this instance. It is essential that you first know yourselves,” he concluded. Of course Hank thought going off to college was a great idea... Scott had a hard time finding any such enthusiasm for this venture. So, neither Hank nor Jean was going to throw him a lifeline on this, just the opposite. Jean offered a tired sigh and a slight roll of her eyes, perhaps sensing that, no matter what was said, Scott would continue looking for a way to plow ahead with his argument. Where Scott was dogged with an unsolved problem, Jean could let it go and move on. Not giving up... just setting it aside until there was a better approach to be made. She seemed to be taking that route at present; it was a tactic Scott had yet to master. When he perceived something as “off” he held on to the anomaly and turned the problem over in his head, brooding, worrying, but also gnawing away at that problem like a dog with a bone until he came to a solution. Generally speaking, Scott was the one with the reputation for being focused, precise, and – some might say – wound too tight. But Jean was every bit as highly motivated and precisely focused as he was, especially when she was operating in what Scott liked to call “doctor mode”. In this case her silence didn’t necessarily surprise him. Jean was going to make an amazing doctor. That was her first and highest priority. Unlike Scott or Ororo, perhaps unlike any of the rest of them, Jean’s goals and dreams weren’t so closely tied to this place. And Jean was going to chase those dreams wherever they took her: determined and unwavering. Jean had all of the drive, energy, and focus without ever being too tightly wound. Jean’s telepathy made her a natural at communications and a perfect fit for team co-leader. But on occasions where he needed to split the team for a mission, Cyclops knew he could also count on Storm to co-lead effectively. At the moment, Warren was gliding on winds of Ororo’s making, scanning the room below him as if for surveillance, occasionally banking to test his own maneuverability and the winds’ consistency. The next step would be learning to use those winds offensively, each of them working from their strengths for the good of the team and its mission... but Ororo was taking that part slowly. Scott was impressed, though not surprised, by Ororo’s initiative and her leadership. He was both surprised and impressed with Warren’s ability to focus and take orders. Warren was headstrong, a bit arrogant, a lot reckless: a risk-taker. Thoughtful evaluation did him no good. The opposite held true with Hank: Hank needed feedback. He liked to gather all the information he could and use it, along with whatever book knowledge he could pull from the library, to chew over his decisions. Excessive research, and sometimes lively debate, often lead Hank to new ideas and technological breakthroughs, inspiring new solutions. Practice was what worked for Warren. He learned by doing. He could spend hours on drills meant to increase his flying stamina and dexterity without ever losing interest in the challenge of being in motion, the joy of being in flight. But show and tell sessions (as he derisively called the debriefings) would bore him silly in minutes. Being a leader meant learning these kinds of things too – preferences, character traits – and using them to help your team work from their strengths. That was a skill that grew first out of knowing and then understanding your team; those were some of the things he’d learned as Cyclops, and he already thought of them as ultimate truths. A good leader had to know their limits and their capabilities. For Cyclops, it meant knowing the strengths and weaknesses of himself and his entire team. The second ultimate truth was that his team had to believe in him, not just in his abilities. He’d learned that, at times, inspiration could be just as important as carefully honed skill; trust could be every bit as valuable as flawless execution. Ororo wouldn’t ask Warren to risk himself on a new maneuver until she had perfected it under controlled conditions and they were each comfortable with the results. Their personal styles couldn’t be more different, Cyclops and Storm. But Storm was sharp, level-headed, confident, willing to take risks and accept their consequences – even when that could mean putting your team members at risk or potentially seeing them hurt as a result of your orders. Not many people had the ability to both inspire that level of trust in others and to accept that level of responsibility for them. Ororo did. In addition to her leadership skills, Ororo had a way about her which Scott admired. Innate grace, no doubt born of regal bearing. An easy kindness and compassion that drew people in, and yet there was steel in her unbending will (each trait likely born on the streets of Cairo). Somehow Scott had succeeded as a leader without anything of the sort. What he lacked in people skills he made up for in endless preparation, hard work, and a gift for strategy. He relied on stubborn logic rather than emotion and he leaned on Jean’s communication skills, a lot. Having her in his head, keeping him linked to the rest of the team mentally, was a huge advantage. As was having Jean’s and the Professor’s input available to offer him varied perspectives on how any given skirmish was going. Jean was his unofficial second in command, though Scott didn’t feel the ranking really did either of them justice. He was better in some areas: strategy, leadership; and Jean better in others: communication, team cohesion. But together they led as one cohesive unit. Scott had quickly come to realize that Jean’s leadership style and her approach to decision-making were far more well-balanced than his own. She often saw things he missed, especially when it came to people and anticipating human reactions. In addition to being a classic “Type A” personality (over-achieving, socially engaged, highly motivated, and more than a little impatient with the pace of her own success), Jean was always highly organized, often intensely driven, but she was also more measured, especially in her approach to personal interactions. Jean considered everything from a more personal, less detached point of view compared to Cyclops’s. And Scott greatly appreciated her insight. Jean also tended to provide a moderating influence on him, her more measured focus reminding him not to get so laser-focused in on the mission that everything – or everyone – else got lost in the background. She reminded him to pay attention to things he would otherwise overlook. It made the two of them a good team, in addition to being close friends. Enough alike to compliment one another’s strengths with enough differences to offset each other in important ways. Xavier had been right about that when he had made the call for Scott and Jean to work together to co-lead the team.... It was entirely possible that he was right again now, and Scott – through all his worries and all his planning – just couldn’t see it. With effort, Scott shifted his attention back to the room around him, pushing himself off from the window ledge with restless energy, pacing first toward the door opposite Xavier, then back toward the observation windows. Looking out over the Danger Room again, he shook his head in confusion and frustration. He was finally getting a handle on being Cyclops. Now Xavier was telling him he should put Cyclops aside altogether, to be– what– just Scott Summers, college student?! The more he thought about that, the more Xavier’s declaration burrowed under his skin. It refused to make sense. And Scott didn’t have it in him to simply go with the flow when doing so felt deeply wrong to him. “Studying here or studying away, I can’t just turn off being a mutant. I can’t take a vacation from it.” “No. That is a part of yourself that you cannot change... but neither is it the sole definition of who and what you are. Nor a limit on what you may yet become. It cannot be either of those things,” Xavier decided. “But who you are, what you choose to become, how you decide to live your life. Those things are the sum of far more than your mutant gifts or your experience of being a mutant,” Xavier added more quietly. “That vastness of experience is far more than can be contained here.” Xavier had calmly watched Scott’s resumed pacing, the outer restlessness betraying his student’s inner struggle. Scott now came to a pause, turning to face Xavier, standing arms crossed. Xavier’s more quiet tone made Scott suspect he was thinking of his own youthful mistakes. That was Magneto’s viewpoint: that mutation defined them, set them apart from the rest of humanity. And perhaps Xavier’s long ago break from his old friend gave further weight to his decision to send them off to school now: to make them more well-rounded as individuals, more empathetic to the rest of humanity. “I don’t mean to argue, sir. It’s just– we have everything ahead of us right now. Don’t we have to make the most of–” Xavier interrupted. “I believe it is of paramount importance for the three of you to take this time, away from the Institute, strictly for yourselves. You cannot live someone else’s life, or someone else’s dream,” Xavier stated with finality, before softening his tone just slightly, “no matter how proud and honored I am that you would choose to do so. I cannot and will not allow such a sacrifice.” Scott paused, slightly taken aback. Xavier rarely put his foot down like that, effectively ending debate, nor did he often do so in such personal terms. But Xavier had just firmly rejected the idea of Scott, Ororo, and Jean remaining at the Institute beyond this summer. The blanket proclamation stunned Scott momentarily. This time Xavier wasn’t giving– not even an inch. Scott crossed the room again before slowly coming back to look through the glass, gazing down on the Danger Room once more. He was probably going to owe Xavier an apology for his stubborn intransigence when this was all over... but for now Scott crossed his arms and turned to face Xavier. He leaned his back to the window as he briefly scanned the faces of his peers, his team, his family, drawing himself up for one last attempt to persuade them. Ororo picked that moment to slingshot Warren along a cyclone band, and Warren took that opportunity to buzz the window at Scott’s back. Startled by the sudden white-out behind him – as Warren’s massive wingspan (broken only by a flash of his blue and yellow team uniform) filled the observation window – Scott half ducked, throwing an arm over his head for good measure, and prompting the rest of the room to laugh heartily at his expense. Composing himself an instant later, Scott slowly straightened to run a hand through his hair and look over his shoulder, glancing warily between the window behind him and the room full of his peers. “I’m never going to hear the end of that one, am I?” he asked. Jean snickered.
-x-
After leaving the Danger Room, Scott followed Hank down the hall to a small workshop where Hank had a new set of glasses ready for Scott to try on. Hank handed them over to Scott before he did anything else; Dr. McCoy knew his patient. Even when Scott couldn’t see, he’d insisted on holding the glasses to get a feel for their construction to go along with Hank’s description of their capabilities. He hadn’t had much choice in the matter while blind but, blind or sighted, Scott was not generally a good patient. Feeling helpless or out of control was enough to make him uncharacteristically impatient (Jean would say cranky). Confinement to sterile medical environments only tended to set him further on edge and exasperate those feelings. Hank’s mechanical workshop off the Danger Room suited Scott much better than did his medical lab in the infirmary. “How do those feel?” Scott nodded, carefully turning the glasses over in his hands. He still preferred the original design to this one; despite Hank’s best efforts, Scott lost a bit of peripheral vision with each upgrade. A similar thing had happened with Cyclops’s visor. It would always be a trade off. The glasses gave him as wide a field of vision as Hank could manage, given the limitations of working with ruby quartz lenses. Hank had only ever managed to better that issue with a set of goggles he’d designed specifically to be low profile, fitting extra close to Scott’s face for sleep and exercise, with flexible straps replacing most of the glasses’ heavy metal framework. Like the visor, these glasses were a compromise between field of vision and stable housing for controls that would allow him precise manipulation of the beams. Where his everyday glasses very closely resembled wrap-around sun shades (Hank had designed them with the anticipation that they draw as little attention to themselves as possible), these glasses were just a little more showy: a more boxy, coke bottle design that stood out from his face instead of wrapping around. Scott closed his eyes and removed his regular glasses for a fit test. “Ready?” Scott nodded again. His eyes remained tightly shut as Hank slid the new frames into place. Scott never took that caution for granted and he was grateful that Hank didn’t either. The optic blasts would take advantage of even the smallest opportunity for escape, and their uncontrolled escape meant catastrophic destruction. Scott was always aware of the glasses, both keeping them securely in place and keeping himself constantly alert to his surroundings; it was his responsibility to mitigate that risk, to keep the blasts contained, but that level of mindfulness wasn’t terribly difficult for him to maintain. On a more personal level, Scott didn’t think he would ever forget what it had been like to live in a constant state of pain and darkness, hopelessness and fear, before the glasses had allowed him to see again, to function again, and to live something of a normal life despite the otherwise uncontrollable nature of his mutation. Today’s fitting was completely routine. While Hank worked, Scott was reminded of a time when nothing about this process had been routine. Not at all sure about his outcome, and unable to think about anything else, he’d come down here equipped with a constant stream of questions for Hank. That much, at least, was per usual for Scott. Hank McCoy, typically patient and considerate, had remained undaunted by Scott’s worries as he’d placed the new glasses on the bridge of Scott’s nose. Because this had been just a fitting, not yet a test of effectiveness, Scott’s eyes had remained tightly closed, as they had since well before his arrival at the Institute. Even without seeing the glasses for himself, the metal felt cold and heavy against his face. And Hank warned him that the lenses would be thicker and more dense than most, in addition to their being dark red in color. “Here, that won’t be a problem– I mean, I’m not complaining, if they let me see, I don’t care what they look like....” Scott had trailed off briefly, tamping down his emotions, trying not to get his hopes up. “But what good will it do me out in the real world?” he asked, skeptical of his ability to go out into the world and blend in, unnoticed. “Everyone will take one look at them and know they’re not normal, I’m not normal,” Scott added more quietly. Even as he’d spoken those words, Scott had felt a pang of guilt. Scott had had similar arguments for Xavier, but those arguments felt more abstract. They reflected Scott’s curiosity over why Xavier would go to so much trouble to form a school and seek out mutant kids to fill it with, with his only goal being to send those same kids back out into the world as adults. Similar arguments felt more personal with Hank. At that point Scott had never seen Hank’s appearance for himself, but Scott had gathered from previous conversations with Xavier and Hank that Hank would easily be a preeminent doctor and scholar if only his physical appearance wasn’t so different from most, so unsettling to many. Like Warren with his wings, Hank was in some ways limited by the physical nature of his mutation. Where Scott could almost pass for normal, in spite of his mutation, Hank could not. His hulking gorilla-like form matched with oversized hands and feet would always set him apart. “A lot of people wear glasses. That will hardly make you unusual,” Hank had replied. “Glasses made of ruby quartz so dense it’s nearly opaque?” Scott had countered skeptically. “Even funny-looking red glasses,” Hank had concluded, carefully removing the frames. And Hank had been right. Scott sometimes drew strange looks when he was away from the Institute, but nothing beyond the kinds of notice given to an unusual teenage fashion choice, curious stares over a presumed bit of ego-driven vanity. Scott had quickly found that – to most of the world – his ruby quartz glasses, with their unique ability to safely diffuse his optic blasts, were no more than funny-looking glasses. He could still pass for normal despite them. Cyclops was another matter. Today in the Danger Room, Xavier had challenged him to set Cyclops aside. Scott had challenged Xavier in turn that he couldn’t simply “turn off” being a mutant. But could he turn off being Cyclops, and did he even want to? Scott had learned to make Cyclops work, to integrate being Cyclops into his daily routine, his attitude, his everyday thought process... but the other way around? Not so much. In fact, if he was honest, one of the biggest advantages of being Cyclops was a distinct lack of focus on being Scott. He didn’t have to think about his past before Cyclops, a life that had been too often defined by negatives: loss, pain, doubt, loneliness, hopelessness. Maybe he didn’t have to think too hard about the future either. Cyclops already had a set future and a well-defined purpose. He was Scott’s purpose. “That’s all I need from you today,” Hank dismissed Scott cheerfully. Scott replaced his glasses, opened his eyes, and thanked Hank. Hank returned the new frames to his work bench. “Just a little project to help keep me busy while my fearless leader is away.” Scott shook his head, feeling both freshly skeptical and ready to make his way out of the school’s lower levels and outside for some fresh air.