CATACLYSM || X-Men

25| 9 to 5

Westchester, New York, 1984

Rose wasn't quite sure what brought on the sudden release of the mutation development in as many children as they had in the school just ten years after they had it up and running, but it wasn't like she would complain.

    She was busier than ever.

    Which, when she thought about the nightmares that kept hunting her, was a good thing. There wasn't a night when she could avoid the only surviving legend from her people passed on by one of the mutants she ended up with in Greece, or of the explosion of a new, fascinating energy in space. They had gotten nowhere with her dreams, but Charles had theorised it was the same kind of instinct as when a mother knows there's something wrong with her child. Except to Rose, her children were her family; those of the institute, and those whom she had healed in the past. Her dream, those years ago, that needed in her 'episode' was simply explained as a nightmare, maybe the sense of a new energy brought on by a star. After all, she was particularly sensitive to strong energies, such had been Jean when they first met.

    Nevertheless, Rose kept herself busy. Exhaustion meant a deeper sleep, and deeper sleep meant less dreams, according to Hank.

    "Rose, can we sit with the professor's class today?!" one of the kids asked as she arrived to her lesson a couple of minutes late.

    'Fancy joining us under the dome?' she heard Charles's voice ring out, making her roll her eyes.

    "I suppose so," she smiled, before she waved her hand, and the kids got up, following her to the open area on the lower floor, where Charles had already settled with his own students.

    "Nice of you to join us," he smiled as she stopped beside him, and put her hand on his shoulder in greeting, his hand coming up to squeeze hers.

    "I don't think I had a choice, headmaster," she replied, the kids giggling at her teasing. "So what are we analysing today?"

    "T.H. White, The Once and Future King," he replied, causing her to chuckle. "I can take it. Did you not want to check in with Hank about your project?" he asked.

    "I can do," she shrugged. "Don't bore them," she winked at him before she left, giving the kids a wave as she made her way back towards the entryway and the study.

    She'd just turned the corner when she saw a familiar face holding onto the shoulder of what appeared to be a teen. "Summers?"

    "Smith!" Alex smiled wide, pulling her into a hug. "You look—"

    "The exact same, don't worry about it, it freaks everyone out," she chuckled, slipping her bare hands into the pockets of her jeans. "Charles didn't say you were coming."

    "Didn't have time to call," he shrugged. "This is my brother Scott," he patter his brother's shoulder, who Rose immediately looked to.

    "Are you Rose Smith?" he asked.

    "Yeah, hey Scott. Nice to officially meet you."

    "You too. You know, my parents have had your photo on our fireplace since before I was born. You've officially been in the family since before me."

    Sharing a look, Rose and Alex decided to not answer that, knowing full well what their parents were thinking the first time they knew Rose had been the person who visited Alex in prison. After Cuba, she'd been there when Alex's first brother passed, and was even on the phone to the older brother when Scott was born. Cuba made them a little closer.