-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 2
-X-
Stand Still
20 Hours Ago.... Xavier Institute Grounds.
The moment Scott Summers stepped outside the doors of the Xavier Institute he seemed to fall into the blistering warmth of a New York summer afternoon. Part of him had believed – or at least had wanted to believe – it could last, just this way, indefinitely. Seemingly endless summer days spent surrounded by his closest friends, united in meaningful pursuits of their common goals. Today’s exchange with Xavier had begun to put that illusion to rest. His life was about to change again. He could see the change coming this time, but that didn’t make it any easier, just the opposite. He’d been wrestling with the change – and at times openly fighting against it – for weeks, without success, and Scott still struggled with that underlying reality. The summer wasn’t endless. Everything was changing. This past summer had been about Scott figuring out Cyclops. The two years prior to that had been his coming to terms with being a mutant, learning to use his abilities, deciding to embrace his place here and his part in Xavier’s dream. All of those experiences, insulated here within the safe boundaries of Xavier’s school. Now he was faced with going out into the world again, Scott Summers, college student. Scott was forced to admit, Xavier was onto something. Why else should this move keep making Scott feel so uncertain, if not for the fact that Scott had never figured out who he was or who he wanted to be before he came here? Two years ago, his life had changed forever. Who and what he was had slipped irreversibly beyond his control in the blink of an eye. The course of his life made those decisions for him. Scott never paused to look back. He smiled when he felt a slight shift in the air around him. Scott looked up. With no more warning than an unexpected summer breeze, Ororo Monroe dropped out of the sky to stand in the courtyard beside him. Scott recognized her use of the same exercise from the Danger Room earlier, only now with herself riding the wind currents. He couldn’t help thinking to himself, that was certainly one way to hone your fine control. “You’re getting better at that,” Scott greeted her. “A bit of an over-indulgence,” she admitted. “Soon my freedoms will be fewer.” Scott frowned. So caught up in his own worries, he hadn’t given full consideration to how difficult this move might be for Ororo, personally. Adjusting to the realities of daily life in New York City after two years in mostly rural Westchester County was no small transition, especially for a one-time Kenyan goddess. He took a moment to consider that now, familiar worry lacing his brow. “You could always remain here if the city is too–” Ororo shrugged off his concern with a wave of her hand. “I have adjusted to new and different surroundings before. I will adjust again.” Scott nodded, letting the issue rest. They slipped into an easy silence as Ororo walked casually across the courtyard and Scott fell into stride alongside her, just listening to the sound of their footsteps on the stone floor. He remembered walking aimlessly around this courtyard with Ororo on her first day here. Ororo offered him a smile, perhaps remembering the same. He and Ororo got each other, they clicked, always had. Within minutes of first meeting Ororo Monroe, Scott remembered being of the opinion that it was already impossible to know which of them had been here for a month and which of them had arrived just minutes earlier. Ororo had looked and acted for all the world like benevolent royalty, newly arrived for an inspection, dutifully surveying her faithful subjects. She’d both intrigued and fascinated Scott right from the start, and he’d quickly found that they shared a common mind set: singular focus grounded in cold, hard reality. Here by choice and determination as much as necessity, and hungry to make the most of newfound opportunities. They’d shared a common path. The street thief turned goddess and the street rat turned– what, Scott sometimes wondered: a walking, talking nuclear reactor? If Scott had dared to put such a harsh thought into words in Jean’s presence, that would be the point at which Jean would flatly shut him down and insist that he take a kinder, gentler view of himself; Ororo, on the other hand, would let him get it all out, if for no other reason than to let him taste the words for himself, hear exactly how they felt spoken aloud. “Sorry, I’ll be of no use in your argument to remain,” she told him now, a hint of mischief in her knowing voice. “I thought not,” Scott admitted. “Nor will Jean.” “No. I suspect her bags have been mostly packed for weeks.” “Probably true.” Nor would Xavier or Hank or Warren. Scott had exhausted all his options for backup. They reached the edge of the courtyard and walked down a set of steps leading out onto the grounds by way of the garden maze: a shady expanse of hedges, shallow pools, and fountains, all lined with benches under their tall shade trees. Speaking of, a shadow drew Scott’s attention just before Warren landed to Scott’s other side. “Are you still lobbying to stay here and commute into the city every day?” Warren asked, somewhere between impatient and appalled by that suggestion. Scott was reminded that, in addition to the wings, Warren possessed bird-of-prey-like eyesight and hearing. But it wasn’t the mutant but the rich playboy, Warren Worthington III, who had no concept of why Scott would want to opt for “college light” as he called it. It still made no sense to Scott why Xavier, Hank, and Warren were so adamant that they do this in the first place. It made sense for Jean; medical school was a whole different commitment. But for Scott and Ororo, all they needed and wanted were teaching certificates; that didn’t necessarily require a four year, full-time college commitment. He’d done enough research to learn that correspondence courses and advanced placement exams could cut those time commitments considerably.... There was no getting around the fact that Scott didn’t like anything about leaving, while Xavier remained insistent that they not only go but also live on campus, despite a relatively easy commute to ESU in the city, plus the extra added expenses of dorm rooms and meals. According to Xavier, it made a difference. Scott found it hard to imagine why, when they were only there to go to classes and to study. “Because being out on your own is part of the experience!” Warren told him when Scott expressed that puzzled sentiment anew. “College is supposed to be fun!” “Says the guy who rebels against all things elite and all manners of respectable responsibility.” “Responsibility I can handle.” Warren shrugged off Scott’s playful barb, making no effort to dispute most of those charges. “Structure, not so much. And respectability is way overrated.” But Warren had always been a responsible figure when it came to Scott, Ororo, and Jean– in addition to someone who felt very strongly about their place as students at the Institute. Scott realized more and more that what he had initially attributed as a distaste for grown-up responsibility (from the rich, flippant playboy with a tendency to fly away from his problems) was really just a different type of responsibility to his charges. While Xavier and Hank were more willing to see their three students as extraordinary young people, Warren saw them first as young people who deserved the chance to be young in a world which would force them into grown up responsibilities soon enough. “And this time I fully agree with Charles,” Warren concluded. “College is one of those things that can’t be done properly from a distance.” Scott shook his head wearily. Every time he thought of how much had been accomplished in just the past two years, Scott was all the more certain that nothing he could do with the next two, or even four, could possibly equal that. Yet he was supposed to go back to just being... Scott? It seemed so pointless. It was a weird and unsettling feeling, realizing that he wasn’t sure he understood who he was or what he wanted apart from the goals and priorities that had come to define him here... and not only in the here and now, but well into his future. “I know I’m going to relax and enjoy the lack of Danger Room training in your absence.” Warren’s statement drew a sharp glance from Ororo. “Not that I won’t miss having you three here,” he amended. “But Cyclops ordering me around the Danger Room– I won’t miss that.” “You’ll miss buzzing me in the control booth.” “Top Gun, Warren Worthington! Yes, I will miss that.” “Thanks, War.” Scott replied with a smirk. Without preamble, Warren took off again. The smirk faded with a shake of his head as Scott and Ororo watched Warren disappear from sight. “I just don’t get it, Ro,” Scott confessed. “Why not stay here? We have work to do here that we can’t do from the city.” Ororo laughed softly. “Maybe that is precisely the point, or at least a large part of it. As Warren said, part of experiencing college is leaving home. Learning to live in the larger world. Stepping away from our established comfort zones, so to speak.” Scott shook his head. Sometimes he felt like a great unseen clock was ticking away and there was no time to waste. They didn’t know if they had years or decades, months or days, here in the relative safety and freedom of obscurity... before the existence of mutants came to light for the world at large. How could he reconcile himself to self-centered pursuits when every passing minute could potentially make the difference between life and death, peace and disaster? Scott repressed an exasperated sigh. “But there’s so much to do!” “True,” Ororo allowed, “but that doesn’t mean you can or should have to do it all. You put far too much pressure on yourself, Scott.” Ororo told him that with a smile, and in a strikingly similar tone to Xavier’s from earlier today in the debrief, though Ororo had not been present to hear it. “While I was working with Warren in the Danger Room,” she continued, “I was afforded a small glimpse of the pressures that you are under constantly as Cyclops. Trusting in my own relationship to the winds, enough for them to embrace me and support me, is entirely different from controlling their flow in a way that allows Angel to safely navigate them for flight. Being responsible for someone who trusts you to be in a position of authority over them– that is something I’ve not experienced in years, and I’m afraid I did not handle it as I should have back then.” “You do it well now,” Scott countered her worry with truth. “And from whom do you think I have learned that skill?” Scott barked out an unexpected laugh. “Certainly not me!” “Yes, you.” Ororo shook her head at his familiar self-deprecation. “I had your example of responsible leadership to guide me,” she stated firmly. Scott shook off her complement. He could easily say, he enjoyed the challenge. That was certainly true. But almost from the start, he’d also found being Cyclops easier than being Scott. He’d spent most of his life trying to prove himself, first to the outside world, then the past two years trying to prove himself to himself... this summer had changed all that. Scott had found a place here at the school, but Cyclops had given him a mission, a reason, a purpose. He’d found success at being Cyclops. But beyond that point of personal pride, there was a chance that his success could make a real difference in the world, bring about positive change in the lives of many young people like him. That – for the first time in his life – would be worthwhile, maybe even meaningful enough to explain why he was still here, and what he was supposed to do with his time. Scott wasn’t sure what his meaning was aside from that goal, that responsibility, that awesome purpose, and he certainly didn’t have a reason for being away from here– the only place where those defining goals actually seemed attainable. They’d made a loop through the garden maze, ending up almost back where they’d started, now at the opposite side of the courtyard. From here they casually parted ways, Ororo off to tend her rooftop greenhouses and Scott slowly climbing back up the courtyard steps.
-x-
Scott leaned against the waist-high courtyard wall, not even a hint of a breeze to break through the hazy summer heat. His gaze settled on a plain bit of open space off the far shore of Breakstone Lake. There was nothing at all special about it except that his life – at least the better part of his life – had begun there. Scott hadn’t expected anything resembling a miracle that day two years ago. He’d stepped out onto the grounds with Hank and Xavier and opened his eyes for the first time since his mutation had manifested itself to disastrous results. And his life had started over again. It felt weird to look back on that day now and remember a time when all of this was just a wondrous place that he was beyond grateful to be able to see with his own eyes, free of pain and fear, and freed from the crushing darkness. Back then, that was far more than he could have hoped for or imagined. Since then, this place had also become his home. It was where he belonged, and it was the only place he’d ever wanted to be. Now, he was still enormously grateful, but he also knew there was more ahead of him than behind him. He wanted so much more out of life than he had ever been able to imagine before. The last few months had been a whirlwind for Scott and his classmates. At times confusing, challenging, difficult– but also the most satisfying and rewarding times he’d ever known. All of them had grown up a lot over the past two years. Then the past two months had pushed them beyond learning and into action: from classmates, to teammates, to a team. He finally felt like he was on the right track now, and not by accident or good fortune but by his own hard work, skill, and – dare he say it – gifts. He still remembered the enormous pride and joy in Xavier’s voice on that day two years earlier, as he’d sent Scott out to explore the grounds and school anew. Simply giving him time and space to process that small miracle: the sight that Scott hadn’t known if he would ever regain.... He hadn’t believed then. That first walk he’d taken across the grounds, that was when he’d first started to buy into this place, Xavier’s dream. He started to trust that Xavier not only wanted to, but actually could do the things he talked about doing... maybe even change the world. If the world truly was, as Xavier believed, at a tipping point where soon everything was going to change – more mutants would steadily emerge until they could no longer simply be overlooked or ignored by the world at large – then Scott wanted to be on the right side of that history. He wanted to be a part of this place, doing for others what had been done for him. He wanted to be an instrument of positive change, helping to provide a safe place where other young mutants could come to learn, where they could be themselves – openly and without fear – and where they would be able to determine how best to make their own ways forward in the world. Xavier’s dream was to make this world a place in which baseline humans and mutants could one day openly coexist. This school was ground zero, heart and soul of that dream. Scott had made it his chosen life’s mission, to help make that dream a reality. So why was he leaving here now? Everything kept coming back to that one question, just as confusing to him every time. Behind him in the courtyard Scott heard no footsteps this time, but he did hear the familiar hum and slight squeak of motorized wheels navigating the stone patio. “I remember when you first arrived here.” Xavier wheeled to Scott’s side as he spoke. “Always reluctant to take that first new step. Worried the glasses wouldn’t work. Certain that the visor presented too great a risk. Until they did work. Now the team calls you their fearless leader.” Scott smiled, seeing where this was going. “You think I’m doing the same thing now?” “I think the fearless leader is of great credit to you, Scott. But sometimes I think you forget, you created him, not the other way around.” Scott shook his head. “It’s not just the glasses or the visor. It’s this place. It’s everything I’ve learned here. Everything I’ve become since–” Since Xavier had pulled him off the streets of Omaha, blind and completely alone. Scott didn’t remember much of his childhood before the plane crash that had orphaned him. After that he’d been a ward of the state, then a street kid (a street rat, some might say, surviving as riffraff – a thief and a con artist – first on his own, and then doing the bidding of Jack Winters), then he was a mutant, and finally an X-Man. He didn’t want to leave the only place where he had ever really belonged or found meaning. But Scott was also starting to wonder, How much of what he was feeling was the call of the mission, the pull of the dream, and how much of it was personal? Simply a kid not wanting to leave home. “You’re right, I’m not the same person I was then. Back then I thought the whole point of my existence was to go unnoticed. Staying under the radar always helped me to survive, and in my experience bad things tended to happen anytime I drew too much attention to myself. Even if the glasses could let me see again, they would mark me– like some scarlet letter. I was afraid– of a lot of things. At the time I thought it absolutely essential that I be able to blend in, to pass for normal, even if I was never actually going to be normal again.” “Then something truly miraculous happened,” Xavier concluded, “the gnawing worry and the lingering fear began to give way to confidence and to hope. Suddenly you saw possibilities before you instead of endless pitfalls.” “Putting on the glasses and opening my eyes again–” Xavier and Hank – whom he’d known for only a short time and had not yet come to fully trust – had given him back the gift of his sight with a pair of funny-looking red glasses... but they had also moved him one step closer to taking his first steps into this larger world.... Looking back on that day, it was no exaggeration to say, they’d changed his life forever. “That was nothing short of a miracle,” Scott admitted quietly. “But now– now it’s what I can do with the glasses that’s the miracle.” Now, only two years later, the thing was, he didn’t necessarily want to pass for normal anymore. The glasses meant more to him now than fashion or even necessity; it felt almost disrespectful to think of them as just funny-looking red glasses. That distinction was at the crux of Scott’s conflict. Here, his life had meaning; his actions had weight and purpose. The glasses were a part of him, a fact of his life, a mark of his identity as a mutant, but they were also an ever-present reminder of his mission to help others like him. “In comparison to that, to what can be accomplished here, my going off to college is just playing dress up in a pair of funny-looking red glasses. Shirking my other responsibilities, for what, to play the role of college student?” Xavier only shrugged agreeably. “It’s time for you to keep moving forward, Scott. The unknown always appears full of risk from a distance, but once you start to look closer you’ll see the possibilities as well. Reluctance will only slow you down; it won’t stop the world from moving forward around you, and by the time you take that first new step forward you’ll wonder why you ever hesitated.” Scott shook his head. “It’s not just fear, sir, or uncertainty.” Scott couldn’t help still feeling a bit frustrated. Why did his worries keep falling on deaf ears? “Professor, you’ve spent years building this place, gathering us all here, and finally– we’re so close to being able to do so much more.” “Close, yes, but not ready, Scott. Not just yet.” “That’s why we should be here, sir! It’s why I should be here.” “Scott, you need not worry so about what you’re leaving behind you. What we’ve built here cannot be so easily undone. I owe a great deal of that, very much, to you.” Scott stared at Xavier, biting back the knee-jerk temptation to brush off that statement, to insist that (despite Ororo’s and Jean’s frequent characterizations to the contrary) he was not just sulking or brooding– and certainly not with the intent of drawing complementary reassurances. “This place is built on its people,” Xavier continued. “It will go with you out into the world, and it will be here waiting for you when you return again. You will always have a home here, Scott.” Xavier paused, perhaps anticipating another argument, but Scott conceded. He had exhausted every logical approach he could think of. He was starting to wonder if his arguments were logic at all, or were they simply disguises for his own fear and uncertainty? He still felt a great sense of trepidation for a wide variety of reasons. But as Xavier patiently shot down Scott’s logical arguments, one by one – all easily countered, rebutted, unraveled – Scott’s practical arguments steadily became more personal, until they finally got to the heart of the matter. He was frustrated by his own fear and uncertainty, mad at his own discomfort in facing an unknown future. The persistent hesitation made him feel cowardly and weak. He knew he was better than that! Or at least he thought he was. He thought this place had made him better than that. He was mad, at himself, for all of that. But even worse was the sneaking suspicion, a persistent fear in the back of Scott’s mind, that the team and the school were somehow enabling his success and his happiness here... and without those things.... “I’m not sure I know who I am if I leave here,” Scott admitted very quietly. Xavier seemed to understand. “Scott, you don’t need anyplace or anyone to tell you who you are. And I know you aren’t one who’s easily succumb to fear, not fear of failure nor the insecurities of self-doubt. I know that because Shadow King and, especially, D’Spayre dealt in fear and doubt as both currency and cudgel. You charged into that hellish landscape to save me from their torment, bravely led the others into and through it, in order to defeat Shadow King and D’Spayre. “Such trials are not easily faced.” And Xavier knew as well, they were not so easily overcome. A physical attack was easier to recover from. Fear, doubt, insecurity, they all lingered. And for someone like Scott – who was more driven by insecurity than he wanted to admit, or perhaps was even self-aware of – such an encounter would take time for him to fully process and recover from. For that reason and many others, Xavier remained certain this was a good move. It was a good time for needed change and necessary distance. “There’s no shame in feeling wary of change,” he told Scott. “The unknown frightens us all. That’s part of being human.” Scott shook his head. “It feels like more than that.” “Of course it is,” Xavier agreed. “It’s everything you’ve ever known, all your life before this place, everything you’ve come to know here, everything you’ve worked so hard to make for and of yourself. And this moment feels like a tipping point, like you’re standing at a great precipice between your past and your future. But Scott, when you look into this future, tell me, do you see anything there that is truly your own?” Scott opened his mouth to answer, Of course he did! Hadn’t Xavier, himself, just spoken so highly about this place, the team, the school, the dream, and Scott’s role in all of it. That was his future! But those words wouldn’t come. Scott abruptly understood Xavier’s meaning. “No,” Xavier quietly acknowledged Scott’s unexpected silence. “Those are secondhand dreams. Like it or not, Scott, I have to live with the truth that I have already – and will continue for the foreseeable future – to ask far too much from you. But this is where I must draw a line. You don’t get to forgo your own goals and postpone living your own life in favor of mine.” Scott gave a nod, understanding at last what Xavier was trying to tell him. “From the moment you came here, Scott, you’ve done everything that has been asked of you and much more. You’ve far exceeded my every expectation. You’ve made me proud, and even more than that, you’ve made me hopeful– wildly hopeful for the future success of this school, and the dream upon which it is built.” Scott nodded again. Those words were deeply reassuring, all the more so because he knew Xavier meant them. Conversely, the approval of Professor Xavier meant everything to Scott; Charles Xavier was the adopted father Scott had never had. Scott always wanted to make him proud, and too often felt like he was falling short in that effort. To be presented with the polar opposite opinion– a nod was all he could currently manage in response. His throat felt tight, making it hard to breathe. “These next few years are yours, and yours alone. Go, live your life, chase your own dreams. Follow your own talents and ambitions wherever they lead you. And when you return here, to my dream, we will begin again, stronger than ever before. But for now, now is the time for you to go, Scott.” Scott felt the unique sensation of Xavier’s mind speaking to him telepathically. And if I must, I’ll throw you, kicking and screaming, from the nest. Scott laughed at that well-intentioned threat, as intended. Xavier’s statement, meant to break the ice and cut through what felt like a lot of excess emotion, allowed Scott to breathe and to compose himself. “I understand,” he admitted. He surrendered. He would stop arguing and do as was expected of him. In a short time, Scott, Ororo, and Jean would walk out the front door of the mansion, no longer the inaugural class of students at the Xavier Institute for Gifted Students, but just three more incoming freshmen at Empire State University. No matter how hard Scott tried to understand that, the “why” of it all still refused to make sense to him. “But you still don’t agree.” Scott shook his head, at a loss. “I still don’t think this is the best use of our time, our mission, sir.” But this time, Scott could see the difference. Xavier was doing what he thought was best for him; Scott couldn’t keep stubbornly arguing against that. “I couldn’t disagree more, Scott. This is our mission,” Xavier insisted, “and that is what you keep overlooking. Your going out into the world and finding your place there is every bit as important as the place you have already found here. Much like coexistence, the two parts are not mutually exclusive. Just the opposite. They are necessary to one another. “What is necessary to the mission is also necessary to your being all you can be, your fulfilling all of your vast human potential. You are far greater than just your potential as a leader or your gifts as a mutant, Scott. You are far more than can be defined by a set mission and a list of goals. You are a whole human being, fully alive in this wondrous world of opportunity, brimming with your own unique and boundless potential to do truly amazing things.”
-x-
4 Hours Ago.... First light. Xavier Institute Grounds.
Scott Summers made a habit of running at first light. Even when it was barely light outside on the grounds of the Xavier Institute, that didn’t bother him. He found that the practice reliably helped clear his head. Something about the almost hypnotic rhythm of motion combined with the rush of physical exertion freed his mind to do its own work, almost independently of him. Allowing his thoughts to sort themselves from the chaos of things that needed to be done: plans and contingency plans, and all the millions of variables affecting them all... into something that was manageable, one step at a time. Even the most difficult tasks became manageable when you could break them down, create structure and order out of chaos, one step at time. He’d gotten good at that. He’d had enough practice. Even in his old life, before this place, he’d learned to compartmentalize, always keeping his focus on the immediate task. Sometimes that meant looking no further ahead than the next meal or the next night’s sleep or finding the next mark... that was a part of his life he wasn’t always proud of; he was trying to finally lay those demons to rest. Facing Jack Winters again had marked a turning point for Scott, a chance to finally slam the door shut on his old life for good, but it had also marked an unexpected start to a whole new chapter: Cyclops. It felt more accurate to Scott to describe his life in terms of before and after, with the before portions rapidly fading into the obscurity of times not worth remembering. Here and now, apart from all the other things he’d been in his life, Xavier had chosen Scott to lead and had mentored him toward that purpose because he trusted in both Scott’s abilities and in his character. But had he really gotten so comfortable here that he was now afraid to leave? Afraid that the leaving would doom him back to what he’d been before. Like he had grown too dependent on this place? Dependent, yes, but mostly in a good way; it felt like far more than two years of his life had been spent here, especially considering how much had been packed into those years. Everything that truly mattered to him now consisted of no more than the last two years, this place and the people here. Not only were Jean and Ororo his closest friends, Hank and Warren felt like his extended family, and Xavier– it was hard to describe what Xavier meant to him. In the years since this place had become his home, his mission, his purpose, Xavier had shown Scott what he was capable of, inspired him to be more than he thought he could be... and Scott wanted more than anything to follow in those footsteps. He wanted all of his focus to be here, on doing for other young mutants what Xavier had done for him. Usually those thoughts were reassuring to him: the school, the X-Men, Cyclops. Normally he could focus on those goals and the challenges that came along with them... but today that familiar list of priorities didn’t make him feel better, not when they were all things he was about to leave behind him. Today’s run combined two of his most challenging routes: a quarter marathon circle around Breakstone Lake with a detour up to Look Out Point at the base of Spadina Mountain. He’d increased the difficulty level, partly because he had a lot on his mind and he wanted time enough to tackle it all... and partly just because he could. Scott set off running through the early morning dimness, knowing it would be only a matter of time before the sunrise caught up and the new day arrived to overtake him. Today that felt less like relief and more like dread; time kept marching forward when what he wanted most was to make it stop, or at least force it to stand still for a moment. Just long enough to let him get his bearings and stare down the changes of a new reality, too swiftly barreling down upon him.
-x-
Scott scanned his surroundings as he cleared the trees beside Breakstone Lake, emerging from the hiking trails and out onto the lawn. He paused there to stretch and catch his breath, leaning hands on his thighs for just a couple of moments. The ruby quartz lenses, worn constantly to contain his optic blasts, were secured with an elastic band to keep them in place while he was running; they barely gave him pause today. In one last nod to nostalgia, he gave up the final leg of his run, walking instead at a leisurely pace across the grounds and back up to the mansion. From the corner of his eye he saw Ororo emerge from the orchards. Giving a glance toward the mansion and a hint of an answering smile, she headed in his direction. Through wide picture windows set against the morning’s dimness, Scott could see Jean coming downstairs for breakfast, her baggage telepathically in tow. All ready to meet her future. And for a single instant, he could have sworn they were right back where they had started... the inverse image of today, when Jean had first arrived at the Institute. Scott had stood watching from the front steps, two years ago, as Jean had lugged her baggage from her parents’ car, feeling– something he had no more idea how to explain now than he had then. Jean had once termed it “kindred spirits” (or maybe “lost souls”, she’d later teased him) meeting one another for the first time. Either way, according to Jean, it was the accompanying feeling of recognizing a best friend whom you hadn’t met yet. An accurate description but, in moments like this one, he thought even Jean’s more overly romantic depictions fell short of some illusive bit of truth. Sometimes all Jean had to do was walk in his direction, or give him one of those buoyant, beaming smiles of hers... and he could still feel as unexpectedly dumbstruck by her presence as he had on that very first day. Jean had reminded him of that only yesterday.... Lately, nostalgia had been weighing on him even more heavily than the hazy summer days or their cool balmy evenings. He’d felt the ghosts of summer days both past and present, listening for her footsteps along the courtyard walls at twilight. Always attentive to those remembered conversations that now felt like home. He still felt them. All part of the summer’s illusion. Scott knew he could no longer stay here, where it was comfortable and familiar, just because he liked that part of the illusion. It was time to keep moving forward into the unknown. “Tell me, what is bothering you, Scott?” Ororo asked as her path intercepted his, neatly cutting through his distraction. The two of them were left to walk together across the misty morning grounds, back toward home. Scott shrugged. “Leaving is still bothering me, I guess,” he answered, “same as before. I’m still not sure what the point is, and no matter how hard I try to make sense of it all, something about it just keeps feeling– off.” That wasn’t strictly true. It had finally dawned on Scott yesterday that he was afraid of letting go, afraid of losing the progress he had made while here, all the hard-fought lessons he had learned. He was trying to insulate himself... trying to hold on to what was comfortable and familiar in the face of change. Deep down, Scott knew that was exactly the point Xavier had been getting at. Ororo took a moment to consider his dilemma anew. “As long as you are here, you make yourself responsible for the school and its mission, for all of us and all of our futures, in addition to your own. That burden is too much for any one person to shoulder indefinitely. For right now, Professor Xavier wants you to put down the burden of those responsibilities for a short time and simply focus on yourself, on your own life rather than all of ours.” Scott fell silent for a few moments before finally deciding, “That seems so selfish, it’s almost wasteful.” “Nonsense,” Ororo replied. “By focusing on yourself now, you prepare yourself to better shoulder greater responsibilities later. There is a difference between self-centeredness and purposeful self-preparation.” Scott nodded, listening carefully to her insights, while still nursing his own uncertainties. Over their time together at Xavier’s Institute, Ororo had watched Scott grow more comfortably into his own skin. Even before he had taken on the extra responsibilities of Cyclops, Scott had possessed a calm and confident core personality matched with deeply embedded instincts to protect and defend. That combination made him both a loyal friend and a strong leader. He valued friendship, dedication, loyalty, and hard work– sometimes too much hard work; Scott could also be dogged to the point of being relentless. But more often that flaw was blunted by other redeeming qualities. While his loyalties had always run especially strong for Ororo and for Jean, Scott also made himself personally responsible for everyone around him. Xavier had given him a home and Scott had made it his own, taking on not just the benefits but the heavy burdens of many self-imposed obligations. Ororo suspected it was that burden which Scott had the hardest time setting aside. “We are given one day, one moment at a time, each one a gift, full of more wonder than we can process, complete with all the difficulties we can handle and all the challenges we could seek to test ourselves with.” Scott envied Ororo’s ability to remain centered, fully in the present, anchored by the happiness and satisfaction of simply being alive and in the moment. In some ways that prospect scared him more than the urgency of a million disastrous unknowns. What did he owe himself, right now, today? Was he happy or satisfied in the present moment? What even qualified for those designations, and was simply meeting those thresholds measure enough of his time, his worth, his very being? “As for the future,” Ororo continued, “tomorrow some great weather disaster could wipe us all from the face of the Earth in the blink of an eye. There are no guarantees. We cannot be so beholden to tomorrow’s responsibilities that we forget our responsibility to live to our fullest today.” That was something Scott had struggled with all his life, at least for as long as he could remember, since the plane crash when he was seven. For Scott, that event had forever upset the balance Ororo spoke of, that loss making every day an imbalance. How could anything as small and finite as his own life ever balance those scales: loss and sacrifice verses... what? He didn’t know how else to judge himself outside of what concrete things he could accomplish with what time and talent he had. A life’s worth and a life’s mortality made no more sense to Scott now than it had at eight years old. If there was any reason for him to still be here while others were gone forever, surely it all hinged on some kind of purpose, not on something as abstract or temporary as happiness, peacefulness, or self-satisfaction. “Enjoy the moment, Scott,” Ororo told him. Could it really be as simple as what Ororo described? No promise but today. No challenge but to live well. Enjoy life for what beauty and happiness it brought at present. Scott admired her, that conviction and the determination to hold on to it. Finding such conviction in himself was harder. He couldn’t seem to escape the feeling that more was required of him, a heavy burden of responsibility that strangely served to make him feel whole, necessary, worthwhile– more so than did any fleeting burst of happiness or momentary sense of self-fulfillment. Scott redirected their conversation to more practical matters. “It’s just that the Professor has given me so much, more than I could ever pay back.” “But he doesn’t want repayment,” Ororo reminded him patiently, “not from you, not from any of us. To imply otherwise only insults his generosity.” She was right about that. Scott had once made the mistake of objecting to the fact that, regardless of which option he chose, his educational costs were still falling on Xavier’s dime. That had been one of the more heated discussions Xavier and Scott had on the matter of college. Xavier had made very clear that he would continue to provide for their education, food, and housing– and he had abruptly lost his usual business-like patience when Scott tried to make further arguments over finances. “I refuse to squabble over money, Scott. I have more of it than I can possibly spend in one lifetime and this is how I wish to use it,” Xavier had concluded that discussion. Warren had looked at him like Scott had sprouted a second head for even raising the issue. “So, Xavier wants to bankroll your education; it’s not the worst thing in the world, you know, not having to worry about money!” Scott and Ororo were in the same situation there too, with no savings of their own, no income, no family to help pay their bills. They each planned to work part time jobs, apply for scholarships and financial aid, and to finish their class work as quickly as possible. Both of them already knew they wanted to return here to teach. They had told the professor so, even offered to repay their expenses with future income from their teaching salaries, but Xavier would entertain none of those offers. While he assured them they were more than welcome to return, and insisted their help in building and expanding the school would be greatly appreciated, he also insisted that they keep all of their options open. “What he wants,” Ororo continued, “is to give each of us a chance to be the best we can be.” “I know,” Scott conceded. “It’s still hard for me to leave it at that. He’s believed in me more than anyone ever has– pushed me harder too,” he admitted. But Scott understood that; it meshed with his own inner drive. “He’s shown me what kind of life I want to live, what kind of person I want to be. Everything good in my life started when he brought me here, and all the rest... it doesn’t have to matter anymore.” All the rest was hardly worth remembering in the first place. He fell silent for a couple of seconds. “I don’t want to let him down,” Scott confessed. “I guess... I don’t want to let go of what good he’s given me.” “You won’t, not on either count. It’s not possible, Scott,” Ororo assured him. Once again, Scott envied both her confidence and her calm sense of acceptance. Ororo had the ability to let life wash over her, the good and the bad alike, with the knowledge that each one was fleeting. Scott was always looking ahead, and probably too often expecting the worst. Ororo reached out to him; her hand lightly gripped his forearm for emphasis. Scott nodded in answer to her prompt. When Ororo touched him the motion commanded attention. A little of the goddess had never left her, and something almost regal remained in her bearing. The gesture focused him, where the same gesture from Jean would tend to discombobulate him– though in the most enjoyable possible way. From the very beginning Scott had written that off to differences in personality, Jean’s infectious bubbly personality versus Ororo’s impassive serenity. But like Jean, Ororo was the kind of friend who was just as likely to call you out on your faults as your strengths– not out of a desire to expose your weaknesses, simply an abundance of truth from someone who saw you as you were and still counted you as a dear friend. Scott deeply appreciated that combination of honesty and friendship. “You have nothing left to prove here, Scott,” Ororo decided firmly. “Xavier, like the rest of us, values you for who you are, not just what you do. For now, he believes your life can be made richer by your going away than it could through your staying here.” Scott nodded, grateful for her perspective, but still worried over all the rest. “Though, in truth,” Ororo conceded, “that outcome will be entirely up to you.” “I know, you’re right,” Scott said. Only minutes from the mansion now, they continued the rest of the way in comfortable silence, walking along a winding garden path where ivy-covered stone walls could be seen emerging gradually from the shadows. Scott and Ororo watched that familiar site rise up in welcome as they neared home. Scott thought he detected a flash of motion from the second story girls’ dorm as they approached. He knew which window belonged to Jean’s room, where her study desk sat overlooking the lake, normally piled high with a combination of medical texts and beloved novels, each remaining one likely now vying for a place in her already-packed bags. Scott smiled to imagine her frantic last-minute packing via telekinesis. “I guess Jean told you I’d be out here, worrying.” Ororo nodded cheerfully. “She said, brooding. I said, sulking.” “Thanks.” Scott dipped his head, grinning to spite himself. “I promised I’d bring you along in time for breakfast. So don’t make a liar of me,” Ororo admonished him lightly before she headed off on a different path, one that would wind her way back through the orchards. “I’ll be there,” Scott called after her. He continued on, through the garden maze and up the courtyard steps. There, Scott leaned against the waist-high courtyard wall, watching the last of the early shadows fade from view over the grounds. New sun gradually warmed the last inkling of night’s chill from the air and dissipated the mist hanging over Breakstone Lake. He wasn’t quite ready to go inside yet, but Scott smiled to realize: at least he wasn’t the only one feeling a bit nostalgic this morning. Ororo wanted a few more minutes to visit with the apple trees and Jean wanted everyone together for breakfast. And Scott had wanted to soak in as much of the sights as he could manage this morning; tomorrow he’d have to find new places to run. He was still wishing time could stand still... not forever, but just long enough to let him appreciate this moment. While no one moment could be made to last forever, he could do his best to fully appreciate everything this unique moment in time meant to him. Right here and now... before the moment slipped away from him for good.
-x-
14 Hours Ago.... Xavier Institute Grounds.
Scott stood leaning against the waist-high courtyard wall, evening breeze ruffling his hair. Finally, a hint of relief to the hazy summer heat. That inkling of cool contrasted with the rough, sun-warmed stone under his fingertips. The sun had just begun to dip below the tree line. He stood silently watching the last of the sunset slowly fade from view and waiting for the stars to come to light. Earlier today he’d remembered walking aimlessly around this courtyard with Ororo Monroe on her first day here, this evening he was remembering Jean Grey’s first day at the Xavier Institute. After they’d been formally introduced, Scott, Ororo, and Jean had spent the better part of the afternoon getting to know each other. And the day’s end found Scott standing outside on the courtyard patio that evening, doing exactly what he was doing now. Staring up at the stars just coming to light, trying to collect his thoughts, trying to find his place amid the new chaos. This present moment felt the same somehow... a new beginning, a reset he knew was coming, a reality he thought he had prepared himself for... and yet he felt as completely unprepared for this moment as he had the first time he and Jean had stood together in this spot. Appropriate, he thought grimly. After two years, the sun was setting on his new life. Soon stars would be falling, flaming themselves out through the twilight and into darkness. He shuddered and mumbled resentfully to himself, “Get a grip, Summers!” This was brooding and Jean was right, it was no good for him. He was not going to admit that to her. Scott smiled. And speaking of.... That day in the courtyard, he’d listened to Ororo’s footsteps on the stone floor, instinctively identifying them – her – for future reference. When Jean had arrived at the Institute a short time later he’d quickly noted that it would be impossible to mistake the two. Each of them was a force of nature, and each cadenced precisely in her own way. Ororo met everything in its own time, with a gait that moved like a summer breeze, edged with the fleeting electricity of a sudden summer thunderstorm. Jean had a certain bounce to her gait; she moved with the bubbling impatience of a summer brook: chaos amid joyful urgency, and always in forward motion. Deceptive in both power and persistence. Jean would refuse to make time for the sort of delicate elegance that always seemed to define Ororo’s approach. “Are you looking for shooting stars?” That was why he still listened for footsteps, both then and now. Next thing he knew, and otherwise without warning, Jean was standing alongside him, having just come to her halt to look out over the courtyard wall. “The Perseids meteor shower is at its peak. It should be visible in the northeastern sky.” Jean shook her head at him, barely making an effort to suppress familiar exasperation. “You’re looking for shooting stars, Scott.” Scott chuckled. Jean leaned her shoulder into his. “Spill, Summers,” she prompted him playfully. “You still trying to get out of leaving here tomorrow?” Though Scott didn’t really want to admit it, and especially not to Jean, he was still worried about leaving. Worried about being out on his own for the first time since he’d come into his powers (his mutant gifts, as Xavier affectionately termed them) without the buffer of the mansion, without the ever-present support of Hank, Warren, and Xavier. He would still have Ororo and Jean, of course, but their company would not be so constant as it had been here for the past two years. Here they were more like family than classmates. “Not anymore,” he answered. “I’m odd man out,” he added jokingly. “All my arguments have fallen on deaf ears.” “Maybe it’s not the ears that are the problem?” she suggested. “Then the problem is me. I think I just got so focused on the mission, so locked into here and now, that I don’t want that to change– you know? Now I’m questioning myself.” “Not my fearless leader,” Jean teased him with her mock shock over that revelation. “No, not him. Just me.” Scott shook his head. “I'm hanging up the visor for now. Whatever happens next, it’ll be different. I’ll be different.... Truthfully?” Scott confessed. “The idea of going out on my own again is more intimidating than I expected. Let’s face it. I’ve never had a place like this before.” At least none that he could remember. “I never belonged anywhere before here. And I know I’m incredibly lucky to have found such loyal, honest – stubborn,” he added to tease her, “friends. Such supportive, inspiring – demanding,” he added, “teachers. All of that doesn’t just happen every day.” Over the past two years he had tried to be those things in return for them, just as they had been for him, and he had eventually made peace with his good fortune. Fate’s bargain in bringing him here. Here he was well and well-cared-for... but he was also a mutant with potentially dangerous powers that needed to be contained and used wisely. That was the trade off, and as far as Scott was concerned it was a fair one: a responsible solution to his existence in the universe. He didn’t understand this new deal, where there was nothing for him to be except– what? Normal? Happy? Somehow it felt like that was tempting fate, like there was some unseen cost attached to his happiness, a debt to be collected later and in some unforeseen way. Meanwhile he was living on borrowed time, running up karmic debt, pretending that he could have a normal life. He’d gone through something very similar with the Bogarts. How many lives would it cost this time? His happiness. That thought frightened him deeply; he did his best to shut those memories from his mind and quickly shake off the fear before either could draw Jean’s notice. But for the moment Jean held her silence, patiently hearing him out. “This is the first time I ever did something that worked out right. I made something for myself here that works, something I can do to help others, maybe even to change the world. That’s a hard thing to let go of– you know?” he said quietly. “Guess I just got it into my head that I could get around all of that by staying here.” Then he glanced at Jean, grinning. “I could keep my focus on all things Cyclops.” And as long as he could stay here and let Cyclops focus on the mission, Scott felt insulated, secure, safe. Maybe it wasn’t navigating the outside world or all the worries of an unknown future, after all; he could handle those things. What he really feared losing was this place. This place was his life, and it was everything he wanted his life to be. He didn’t want to leave it now. Scott paused heavily. “I already– miss– everything about this... just being here, now.” Jean responded thoughtfully. “Whatever happens, going forward, Scott– some things won’t change. The fearless leader is still here.” Jean patted his chest. “He’s a part of you, even without the visor or the Danger Room. And no matter where you go, you’ve still got us. Your friends, your family. This place. All of that is in here too.” She patted his chest again. Scott nodded. “Thanks for that, Jean.” “Of course.” Jean hooked her wrist around his elbow and leaned her head to his shoulder, watching twilight fall over the grounds around them. “Being Cyclops is the best I’ve ever been at anything in my life. It’s so easy to get sucked into that, like tunnel vision. I’ve never felt so certain–” “Scott, you’re the only person in the world who could call the endless morass in your head ‘certainty’.” That made Scott laugh, hard. She wasn’t wrong. Jean liked to tease him that his brain was all worry and contingency planning. But those things made sense to him, and he was certain of them, the most certain he’d been of anything in his life. Jean might tease him over it, but she wouldn’t argue that he knew what he was doing when it came to being Cyclops. “But now I have this thing. Something I know I’m supposed to be doing, something only I can do, something that really matters. Something that makes me feel like I matter because it feels like I was made to do this– I don’t want to give that up, not even for a day.” “Xavier is right about this, you know?” Jean responded. “There are things that have to come first, before the school, before the X-Men. And you have a blind spot, Scott. You forget to see the other half of the mission– or maybe you forget that it still applies to you, and to Ororo, and to me. “This school is not just about teaching young mutants to use their gifts wisely, it’s also about reintegrating those young mutants back into society for the mutual benefit of all, for mutants and for society. That has to be step one of the mission. Each student to walk through these doors should receive an education, and with that the chance to pursue their own lives, their own dreams. Making that happen, one student at a time, that is coexistence in action.” “I know. You’re right,” he admitted. “When you say that, or when Xavier says that, it makes sense to me. I’m just doubting myself. I know I’m not the same as I was when I first came here and I keep telling myself, I don’t want to go back to the way I was before.” That thought left him with a sinking feeling in his gut, a harsh reminder. “The last time I went out on my own, it didn’t end well... for a lot of reasons, and for a lot of people.” Jean held his arm a little tighter. “Scott– there’s a big difference between us being ready to go out on our own and your being left out on your own. The Institute is still here. Xavier, Hank, and Warren are still here. And Ro and I are going along with you, remember,” she teased him again. “Nobody’s really leaving this time, not for real, certainly not forever.” That retrospective moment ended abruptly when Jean gasped and grabbed hold of Scott’s forearm. “Quick, make a wish!” He looked down, from the sky to Jean’s face. And Scott quickly laughed, in spite of her sudden urgency: seeing her face all scrunched up, eyes tightly closed. Jean peeked up at him with one eye in response. He still found it amusing that Jean wished on every shooting star, where she knew Scott was content just to watch for them. “Scott Summers. Don’t tell me you don’t believe in shooting star wishes!” He shook his head, playfully avoiding her accusation. “But you missed seeing the actual shooting star while you were making your wish.” She folded her arm back through his, pulling tight against his side. “Don’t worry. It still counts.” He laughed again. “Now you’re deliberately misunderstanding me.” “And you’re deliberately avoiding,” she countered. He still didn’t say anything. Scott didn’t have the heart to tell her he didn’t believe in something so wondrous and simple, when she so obviously did believe. Nor did he want to delve into the category of wishes made and denied, childhood hopes lost. That was just depressing. “For once in my life,” he admitted, “I can’t think of a thing I would have to wish for.” “You must have something you want.” “Sure, I want lots of things.” He smiled. “But shouldn’t shooting star wishes be reserved for otherwise unattainable dreams?” “I don’t think those are the rules.” He laughed. “Then what are the rules?” “It’s just a wish, Scott.” She shook her head at him, fighting off familiar exasperation. “It can be anything, big or small; that’s the beauty of it.” “And I don’t guess you’ll tell me yours, as an example?” “That would definitely be against the rules!” she decided with a laugh before falling momentarily silent. “You really don’t believe, do you?” “I don’t know anymore, Jean. I stopped believing such a long time ago.” “Maybe it’s time to begin again.” She squeezed his arm in encouragement. “Maybe so.” “It’s not too late.” He smiled and shook his head. “What? Don’t have any unattainable dreams?” “At the moment? All of mine seem well within reach.” “You can still make a wish.” “I don’t know what to wish for.” He laid a hand over her arm. “You make one for me.” “Okay.” She hesitated. “But I still won’t tell you what it is.” Scott laughed at her warning. “Oh, of course not.” He conceded his wish to the force of nature that was Jean Grey. She watched him intently for a moment, then looked back up at the sky and closed her eyes again. Whatever wish she made on his behalf, he thought it made her look a little sad... and he didn’t want to ask her why that was. If the truth was known, he was a little afraid to ask. Jean’s hopeful expression managed to remind him of some otherwise elusive memory... a feeling that remained just beyond his reach. Like those shooting star wishes. He couldn’t remember being truly happy – certainly not in a safe, carefree sort of way, not since he was a small child. Scott shook himself free of troubling thoughts as Jean made her wish in his stead and then opened her eyes. The previous hint of sadness in her expression vanished as she smiled up at him, task accomplished. And, standing shoulder to shoulder, they went back to watching the stars, with Jean humming a quiet tune. Scott could just almost place the lyric: something about the midnight moon drifting, lazy, through the trees on a wind-swept night. Jean had a way of making him forget his troubles, or at least of making him feel like his worries didn’t have to matter so much. All he needed, and all that needed his attention, was here and now. And right now all of his attention was wrapped up in the unexpected wonder of whatever moment Jean Grey was sharing with him....
-x-
Today. Empire State University.
Scott’s whole world was no longer him and Jean, alone on the Xavier Institute grounds at twilight. Now they were completely surrounded, in the heart of New York City, on the campus of ESU. Jean was in trouble and there wasn’t a damn thing Scott could do to help her! A worried look passed between Scott and Xavier, who was seated beside Jean. There was an offer of mental blocks– just until she could adjust herself to the increased volume of her new surroundings. No. Jean shook her head, clearly insisting that she had to learn to do this for herself. Eyes closed tightly, the first thing Jean did was to tamp down the feedback, beating back the mental pressure of millions of voices, pushing the dull static of all those distant voices further into the distance until it wasn’t so overwhelming. Once she had that under control she began methodically building walls against the far off chaos until it dimmed to a dull roar, like ocean tide in the distance. No longer tidal waves threatening to wash her out into a roiling sea. Next she began shutting down the closer, more distinct voices, like closing off doors in a hallway, one by one, until the voices behind them were phased down to a low background hum. Still there, like the chaos and noise of the city surrounding them, but tolerable. Manageable. Scott watched Xavier take all of this in. Calm and unsurprised. Determined and proud. With that look, Scott realized Xavier had seen this coming. Not only that, he had provided the necessary shielding to protect Jean until she could learn to do this for herself. In that realization Scott confronted his own misguided logic. Xavier was right; they couldn’t hide from the outside world forever. They had to live and learn here, outside the safe harbor of Xavier and his Institute. Jean had only been the first of them to face the full weight of that challenge head on. For Scott it would mean learning to operate without the distraction of Cyclops, with all his tactical and strategic puzzles. For now he was just Scott Summers, with human problems, human reactions, and human emotions– all the things that filled his blind spots. Things he wasn’t good at facing, things he’d been trying to hide or to hide from for as long as he could remember. He felt uncomfortable and exposed... but he saw the truth now. He understood, those uncomfortable parts were things he couldn’t afford to miss anymore, not if he was going to keep his team– no. He had to readjust his mindset in mid-stride to meet the new setting, mentally setting aside the visor – and not begrudgingly, not because he had to, but simply because it was time to set it aside for now. His life was no longer about the mission or keeping his team safe. Now he was living his life and supporting his friends as they lived theirs. Jean? Xavier raised an eyebrow in silent question. Jean nodded, confirming that she had it under control now. Thanks, Professor. She smiled and gave his forearm a squeeze for emphasis before she slid across the seat and ducked out the car door, following Scott and Ororo out into the bright sunshine, ready to meet their new world. “You alright, Jean?” Scott asked. Jean smiled up at him with a trace of tired determination behind her nod and a hopeful expression that said, “I will be”. No matter how difficult, this was where she wanted to be. Here and now and, dammit, she was going to get through this– like a normal person. Scott’s expression mirrored that same determination as he and Ororo flanked Jean. Offering their own support and protection, in hopes they could run interference or give her an escape if one was needed. “Some pair of roomies we’ll be, Ro,” Jean joked. “You, claustrophobic of small dorm rooms and class rooms, and me, claustrophobic of a zillion people outside them.” Ororo smiled and hooked her arm through Jean’s affectionately. “If I can begin to conquer my fears with your help, then so can you– with ours.” Jean grinned and hooked her other arm through Scott’s, pulling him into line. Scott reflexively held his free hand to the bridge of his nose, more for habit than over any real fear of losing his glasses. He had a weird vision of the three of them skipping, arm in arm, down the yellow brick road: courageous into the unknown, buoyed by each other’s company. Juxtaposed against the reality of Ororo and Jean in fashionable summer dresses, Scott in button down shirt with tie and khaki pants, the mental imagery made him chuckle. Jean raised an eyebrow, glancing in his direction. Scott realized it was Jean’s mental projection that he was seeing, and her surprised glance showed it hadn’t been shared intentionally. His cheerful smile belayed her self-consciousness over that fact. “Dorothy, Glenda. Let’s go explore Oz.”