"Failure is the opportunity to start over again more intelligently."
- Henry Ford
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Charles's POV
Two years later...
"Hello," I greet the young red-haired girl as I roll my wheelchair into the room she is sitting in.
"Where are my parents?" she asks me quite solemnly.
"My name's Charles Xavier," I tell her, trying to avoid that subject for at least a short time. "And-"
"They're dead," she states, interrupting me. "Aren't they?"
"Yes, they are, and I'm very sorry to have to tell you that."
"So what happens to me now?"
"Well, that's why I'm here, actually. You see, I have a school that is for young people, who are like you—special."
"Special's just a nice word for-"
"Weird? Or crazy? Yep. Yep, sometimes it is. Sometimes, it can be a word used to describe people who are significant. Or amazing. Or... or just... just really cool." I try to give her a soft smile. All that she has had to endure today is more than any child should. "You've got gifts, Jean. Do you know what? Take this pen, right. It's something that... Well, actually, just take it. It's a gift." I hold the pen out to her, and she takes it from me. "Now, you could choose to draw a really good picture with that... or you could use it to poke someone's eyes out, but either way, it's still just a pen. It's just a gift, and what you choose to do with your gift, well, that's entirely up to you... but if you want to use it to do good stuff... well, I can help."
"You're not like the other doctors."
"No... and you're not like the other patients."
Jean is released into my custody, and I take her to the mansion—which has now successfully been turned into Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters once again. She seems quite entranced by the grounds as we arrive. However, it's quite obvious that she is also very nervous.
"What do you think?" I ask her.
"I can't stay here," she replies.
"Ok. Why not?"
"It's too nice. I... I break things."
"Well, how does this sound: If you break something, anything, I can fix it."
"Not anything."
"I can help you. I can help you so that you never have to break things ever again."
"You think you can fix me too."
"No. No, because you are not broken."
There isn't enough time to describe how much this little girl reminds me of my daughter. That feeling of brokenness and scorn—deeply rooted isn't a sufficient explanation. She's been wounded by all that's happened. Of course, like my Elizabeth Grace, it seems all she needs is a bit of a guiding light. I did a poor job helping my own child when she needed me most. This might be the only chance I get at any form of possible redemption. Perhaps, in this situation, I can act as Erik instead of sitting sidelined by my own doing.
Young Jean follows me as I roll my wheelchair inside. Many of the students are around the back of the mansion, so there aren't many people inside. Hank has already prepared a room for her. I watch as Jean walks very cautiously behind me through the house.
"You know, Jean," I start. "You aren't the first mutant I've met that broke things, as you say."
"I'm not?"
"No, in fact, I think you should meet someone."
Elizabeth Grace's POV
"Hi, dad," I say with a smile, feeling a connection to him. Dad and Erik are so far the only people I am able to connect with no matter how far away they are. This power has developed over the past few years. It's clear my abilities are still growing. Where that will lead to, we're still unsure.
"Hello, sweetheart," he greets me. "How are you doing?"
"Great, actually. Oxford is still the Oxford you remember."
"That's wonderful news. Are you coming home for the holidays?"
"I am. So, tell me a bit about your new student."
"I forget how it feels to be on the other side of a telepath," dad laughs.
"Now you understand how everyone else feels... and how I felt when I was younger."
"I only read your mind on rare occasions when I was extremely worried."
"Of course you did. Anyway, new student. Jean. Tell me about her."
"Her power could rival yours. Just as I don't know what exactly you could be capable of, I'm not sure what she is either. She's afraid of her abilities."
"Just like I was when I was young."
"Exactly. I would like her to meet you. I believe it would be beneficial for her to meet someone that understands her struggle."
"Of course. I'm leaving in about two days. I just took the last of my finals today and have a few things to settle before I leave."
"I look forward to seeing you again, sweetheart."
"Same to you."
"I love you."
"I love you too, dad."
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I am greeted by Hank and several students as soon as I walk in the door of the school. Some of the students go home over Christmas, but many remain here. There are some students that quite literally have nowhere else to go. Others choose to stay here as the school has become more of a home than with their own families. One day, we hope that this won't be the case. We want to create a world where these children don't have to hide their abilities and gifts from their parents and will be accepted by those they hold most dear.
"Athena!" they greet me excitedly.
"Hello kids," I say with a wide smile.
They ask me numerous questions about what I've been doing and how long I'm back for. Hank laughs quietly to himself the whole time. They are engrossed with everything I do apparently. I didn't seem to be this popular the last time I was here. I'm not sure what has changed.
"When did I become a celebrity?" I ask Hank when the children head off again.
"As soon as they figured out you were an X-Man."
"So are you. Not to mention dad."
"You were also the one they saw on tv in D.C."
"No one could recognize my face."
"They still know it was you."
"Imagine what they would do if they actually met Raven. She's their hero. I was the one helplessly anchored to the ground."
"You did a significant amount to deal with that situation, and you know it."
"Whatever you say, Hank. Anyway, the camera only truly caught Erik taking me down, so I'm not sure how exciting that should be to these children."
"Actually, that's not entirely true."
"What?"
My eyes get wider as I am shocked to hear this.
What do I not know about?
"The cameras were rolling during the entire attack. New footage was leaked early this morning."
"What footage?"
"There's a side shot of you causing the rubble to detonate so it wouldn't hurt civilians. They also interviewed many of the people that were there that day. Many of them describe a teenage girl with abilities that saved them. Others describe an unknown force that took control and guided them from danger, and I quote, '...like a guardian angel.' Most of them believe it somehow came from this same girl, who the media is now hailing as a hero."
"Oh boy..."
"The public doesn't know your face. Only the kids really know it's you. They saw the newscast this morning. You're officially a superhero to them."
"That might be a bit of a stretch."
"Maybe not."
"Elizabeth Grace!" I hear dad exclaim gleefully as he approaches us.
"Hi dad," I reply.
As I crouch a bit to embrace him, I spot a young girl hiding behind him. She has red hair and green eyes. I can sense that she's a bit intrigued by me, but is too apprehensive to say anything.
"Elizabeth Grace," dad starts. "I'd like you to meet Jean Grey."
"Hello, Jean," I say gently, extending my hand to her.
"Hello," she mumbles meekly, gently grasping the end of my hand.
"I understand you're a new student here. That's very exciting."
She opens her mouth to say something, but no words come out. It's obvious that all of this has been pretty overwhelming. Dad said she was afraid of her powers. That likely means she's quite nervous about everything that's happening. Of course, I don't have much time to ponder this before I nearly jump out of my skin.
"I... I saw you on TV this morning," I hear her voice in my head.
"Another telepath..." I reply without much of a second thought.
Now she is the one who is surprised. I wonder if she thought she was the only one who was like us. She's never met another telepath in her life... well, other than dad.
"You're..."
"Like you? Yes, I am... and so is the Professor."
"He is?"
"Yes. I'm quite surprised he hasn't shown you his powers yet."
"I was waiting for you to arrive," dad tells us as he joins our conversation.
"Woah... you're both like me. I'm not-"
"The only one? No, Jean. You're not alone."
"Jean," dad begins—aloud—so that Hank isn't entirely confused. "How about you go with Elizabeth Grace? I believe she could help you understand a few things about your mutation."
"Ok."
I motion for Jean to follow me as I was outside to a part of the yard that dad had set up during the time of the first class in order for me to train. Alex and I would come out here almost every afternoon after the missile crisis in Cuba to help us gain more control over our abilities. It's essentially a skeet shooter that we used for target practice. It was built far enough away from the house that we didn't destroy anything.
"What's this?" Jean inquires.
"Well, it's a place I used to come with one of my closest friends—who was also a mutant—so we could find out how to better control our powers."
"Do you think I'll ever get control of mine?"
Her question is said so somber that it's almost heartbreaking. Maybe it's so painful to me because I understand exactly how she feels. She's scared of hurting or even killing someone.
"You don't have to be afraid of your gift."
"But I break things..."
"Jean, when I was younger than you... I broke things too... a lot of things."
"What do you mean?'
"Well, I... actually, just watch."
I cause the shooter to launch a disc into the air. Focusing my abilities, I cause a build-up of energy to form inside the disc, just as I did with the rubble in D.C. In a matter of seconds, the disc explodes into a million pieces. Jean looks up at it in awe.
"You're not the only one who can cause some damage."
"But what if I-"
"Hurt someone?'
"Yeah..."
"When I was three, some men attacked my mum and me. My powers went crazy because I had no idea how to control them... Those men had shot my mother, and I lost control. I lost control of my fear, my anger, and therefore, my powers... Because of that, all of those men died. It's something I struggled to deal with for years. Now, I've learned to control my powers so that I don't cause anything like that to happen again."
"But... you seem so nice."
"Even nice people can do bad things. Whether what I did makes me bad or not... is up to me."
"What do you mean?"
"I can't fix what I did, but I can fix what I continue to do... and so can you."
The young girl doesn't seem to know how to respond. However, it's obvious that my point has been made. She's not the only one who's dangerous. She wasn't afraid of me... so she has no reason to be afraid of herself.
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Song: Carry On Wayward Son by Kansas