Regenerate | X-Men/Avengers - Pt. 1

Ch. 5

I try to slink out before the bell and hurry down the hall before anyone notices, not foreseeing the pair of long legs that decide to catch up.

"Hey," Matt says, his charm centering heavily on his grin.

"Hi," I speak to his expensive shoes, holding my breath as his heavy cologne attempts to smother me.

"What's your name again?"

Hesitantly, I tell him.

"And you're new here, right? You're in my...English class too?"

"No."

"You sure? You're in one of my other—Chemistry! That's where I've seen you."

I watch him carefully. "So, what do you want?"

"I just haven't met you yet and wanted to say hi. Hi."

I hear snickering behind us and think it's the boys he knows in our class. I didn't get a chance to shower before morning, so I still smell like the woods and wonder if he can smell it too. His cologne is making me dizzy. "Alright, we've met."

Picking up speed, I duck into my next class.

In the office again. One kid got a bloody nose and there's a bruise blossoming on my shoulder blade, but beyond that nobody got damaged. Naturally I should be getting detention, but instead that's being transformed into another weekly hour of counseling with Xavier. I'd rather they confine me to my room.

"You can't just attack anyone who doesn't like you," Summers admonishes once the other two have left the room. "Otherwise we'd all have armies to fight."

I was expecting "What's wrong with you? You know better than this." I try to see Summers' eyes through his glasses, but the material they're made of is aggravatingly distorting. He knows I'm not taking his advice to heart.

When I enter Xavier's office he's intent on his paperwork, but still manages to give a disapproving arch of his brow. "Have a seat."

There are eight plastic chairs by his desk for the physics lecture he just gave. I think of taking the one farthest away from him, but I don't feel like getting on his bad side in such a petty way right now.

"What can be done to make you happier here, Ace?"

He's asking for the sake of asking, which is kind, but we both know exactly what I need. "I don't want to be in here all the time. I can take care of myself."

"I don't doubt that at all, however, you're lashing out at other students and that is not acceptable. Ace," his tone of voice changes slightly, "you are mistaken if you think I'm trying to fix you. I can't. But there are some things that can be helped."

I've been expecting this. "The dreams are never going to go away."

"There are medications that can aid in lessening the impact and frequency of the dreams by leveling out the chemical imbalance causing the anxiety."

"What about the hallucinations?" I ask.

"Unfortunately, in terms of hallucinogen medication there's very little out there for young adults without a pre-diagnosed psychosis. There are a few trial drugs, of course, but—"

"The dreams and the hallucinations are just the beginning. There will be meds for the sleep, the hyper-sensitivity, the depression, the withdrawal. There's got to be another way to—No." I can already tell what line of reasoning he's going to use here. "I am not talking about it, no therapy."