Sympathy Pains: Chapters 1-2
by Epona
Harper
Author's Notes: Well, here it is. I finally decided to post my first chapter of this thing in hopes that it will give my creativity a much needed kick in the butt. Special thanks to Shai for beta-reading and to all the crazies in #subcafe who gracefully suffered through my spam. Feedback is golden and will probably speed further chapters. Please ask before archiving.
Disclaimer: All characters in this story with the exception of Christa O'Sullivan are the property of Marvel Comics and Fox Entertainment. I'm poor, Mr. Rich Producer, so don't sue me.
It��s not an uncommon sight to see in the parking lot of a hospital; a person sitting in her car, troubled and steeling herself for whatever awaited her within. Even with the lab coat slung over the seat beside her, this woman didn��t seem out of place. After all, doctors suffered strain from what they had to face in those halls as much if not more so than the friends and loved ones of the patients.
However, this young woman seemed a little too stressed for someone who was about to start her first day at this place. She crossed her arms on the steering wheel and rested her head against them for a moment. When she sat up, the careful mask she��d crafted was in place. Lately, it had been slipping, but she hoped that her stay here would fix that. Maybe, if she was lucky, she could do away with it altogether. If not...
She grabbed her lab coat and purse as she got out of the car. A visible shudder ran through her as she turned toward the main building of the hospital.
***
Dr. Jean Grey, M.D./Ph.D. looked up from her microscope and tried to stretch a kink out of her neck. She��d been doing chromosome smears for hours now, helping the genetic counselors catch up with their backlog while the electron microscope was being serviced. Until it was fixed, her work was at a standstill, so she might as well do *something* to justify her paycheck. Anyway, it was nearly lunchtime. Maybe there would even be something edible in the cafeteria today.
As she tried to relax, she felt something brush against the mental shields which kept the thoughts and emotions of others at bay. Instantly alert, she scanned the room for threat. The only other people in the lab were a pair of techs she knew well. Jean reached out cautiously to the nearby halls find the source of the intrusion.
It was female, whoever she was and mutant with some type of psychic ability. When she delicately probed, she found that this person had practically no shields at all, but there was nothing threatening in her surface thoughts. Great distress, yes, tinged with desperation and a little hope, but nothing to indicate that she meant anyone any harm. Jean turned back to her work. If this person *was* coming to see her, she��d know soon enough and it would be prudent to not reveal that she had forewarning.
A minute later, footsteps stopped outside the lab door. A slight hesitation and the door opened to admit a young, brown-haired, hazel-eyed woman in a student��s short lab coat. She glanced over the room, nervously, and finally spoke.
��Is Dr. Jean Grey here today?��
Jean casually stepped away from her workbench and walked toward the visitor. ��I��m Dr. Grey. Can I help you?��
��My name��s Christa O��Sullivan, and I��m starting an externship with the Pediatrics Department here. I was wondering...Would you have some free time to talk with me sometime soon? I have something that I need to discuss with someone who knows...with an expert in genetics.��
~With someone who knows about mutants? Is that what you were about to say? Jean pondered. Christa��s expression was unreadable, but the emotional upheaval was quite clear to an empath. ��Actually, I was just about to take a break. Would you like to discuss this over lunch?��
The wave of relief flooding out of the young mutant nearly bowled Jean over. ��That would be great,�� she replied. ��I just finished my orientation and they gave us the rest of the day off. Only...�� she flashed a covert look at the busy techs and lowered her voice, ��Is there someplace that��s a little, you know, out of the traffic?��
Jean smiled. She knew full well what Christa meant. With anti-mutant sentiment being so high, she��d hardly want to start a medical career with her mutation being common knowledge. Not to mention, in her condition, being around crowds of people must be torture. From the circles under her eyes and the tension in her face, she seemed to have been under the strain for some time. ��I think I know a place.��
***
Jean sent a silent prayer of thanks that the doctor��s conference room was unoccupied. It was furnished with ugly, green, vinyl chairs and Formica tables (most of the hospital��s decor had never left the 1970��s), but it was private. There was no way they could have done this even in a secluded corner of the cafeteria. Christa was obviously being overloaded by other people��s minds. She had tried to shield the girl somewhat as they got their food with limited success. She quite frankly didn��t have the strength and skill the Professor had. At least, not yet. She looked across the table at the student who was nervously picking at her taco salad and trying to find a way to begin to say what she needed to so badly. Jean decided to help her out some.
��So, you need some information on genetics?��
Christa bit her lip and brushed a wisp of hair that had escaped her ponytail behind her ear. ��Well, more like I need some help. Personally.��
Jean waited patiently as the silence stretched between them. Finally, Christa took the plunge.
��You work with mutant advocates a lot. Do you...know many mutants?��
��You could say that,�� Jean said, amused, and she decided to speed things up a bit. ��Tell me, would it make it any easier for you if you knew that I��m a mutant, too?��
Christa��s jaw fell open. ��`A mutant, too��? You knew?! How...I��m slipping *that* bad?!��
��Calm down.�� Jean replied soothingly. She glanced to make sure no one was near the conference room��s single window and levitated her drink to her hand. ��Let��s just say that, with my gifts, the problem you��re having with yours is a bit easier to detect.��
The young woman slumped in her chair. ��Thank God! I was just hoping you could point me in the right direction. I mean, *something* has to give. I��m going nuts! But, if you��re a mutant, too...��
��Then I probably know someone who can help you learn to control your abilities? Yes, I do. In fact, we��re always on the look out for people like yourself.�� She paused to sip her drink. ��Now, just what is it you do? I can tell it��s some kind of psychic ability, but not much else.��
Christa groaned quietly and rubbed her temples. ��Well, Dr. Grey...��
��Jean, please.��
That finally got a weak smile out of her. ��Okay, Jean. And I��m Chris to my friends. It started in high school...��
***
...so I applied to do an externship here, hoping that I could find a way to talk to you and that you��d know what I could do.��
Chris finished off her last bite of salad as Jean pondered her story. She found it quite alarming, how close this young woman had come to snapping from her out-of-control gift. As it was, the strain had worn her to the bone. Her lanky frame was rail thin, almost wasted looking, partially from lack of appetite and partially from the huge energy demands for dealing with life under these conditions. Jean shook her head. The girl had to be taught and quickly. ��Well, Chris, I must admit I��ve never run across your particular gift before, but I do believe I can help you.�� She smiled quietly. ��Or rather, my teacher can help you. He runs a special school a short drive away.��
��How soon can we start?�� Chris asked. ��You see, they house visiting students up in the hospital on-call rooms. It��s bad enough when I do call every fourth night, but, if I can��t get away at all...��
��You��re right, that will never do. But I think I can work something out with your instructor. Have you already unpacked?��
***
��Seven to four! Service!!��
Logan glanced out the open window at the volleyball game going on in the grassy court. It was positively idyllic. A pack of happy kids playing under a glorious sunset without a care in the world. Hard to believe that these very kids could in all likelihood find themselves at the tender mercies of a lynch mob if the world at large knew what they were.
��Let it go! It��s out!��
��Good call, Harry!��
Logan snarled silently and turned away, irritably yanking his sleeve free as the heavy cotton caught on splinter. Xavier��s dream was a beautiful one...and had all the chances of snowflake in hell of succeeding. He snorted and smiled grimly at the darkness of his thoughts. It figured he��d be like this. He��d only gotten back from Alkali Lake last night, a trip that had turned up exactly squat, and failing to reach a goal always left him pessimistic. Or, at least, more pessimistic than usual.
��I hope you took good care of my bike. If not, we may have to go a few rounds.��
He smirked at the voice coming from the open door behind him and turned around to lean against the window frame. There he was, dressed casual but neat and standing so straight you��d think his spine had been soldered in that one position. ��Anytime you want, One-Eye. Ain��t you supposed grading exams or somethin��?��
Scott Summers rolled his eyes. At least, he seemed to. It was damned hard to tell behind those glasses, but the lift of his eyebrows matched that expression. ��Well, *some* of us get up at a decent hour and can get our work done.��
��And some of us don��t get in till three a.m.,�� he shot back. The opening of the front gate caught his attention. An unfamiliar car drove up the driveway toward the main door of the mansion. He watched while continuing his banter. ��I know that welcomin�� my sorry butt back here ain��t on your list of priorities. What brought you down from the mount?��
Scott joined him at the window and nodded at the approaching SUV. ��I believe that��s my reason. Jean called me and said she was sending a new student, someone she found at the hospital. She got held up by some work so she sent the girl on ahead and asked me to get her settled in.��
The car stopped, the driver hesitantly stepped out. Logan��s eyebrows went up. ��Little old for your little academy here.��
��From what Jean said, she��s not going to need the full curriculum,�� Scott said with a quiet chuckle. ��Her name��s Christa O��Sullivan. A medical student.��
The two of them quietly watched the young woman for a few moments, quietly sizing her up. Kind of puny, Logan thought. And nervous. No, more than just nervous. Gun shy, like a deer in hunting season, hearing shots in the distance.
��I think we��d better get her in here,�� Logan finally said. ��She looks pretty edgy.��
��As much as I hate to say this, I think you��re right. Try not to...��
A sharp scream started them both to attention. The young woman staggered and clutched at her shoulder then started running across the grassy court. The two men instantly went into battle mode. Logan jumped out the window and took off after her. Scott��s hand flew to his glasses as he scanned the walls for a sniper, then followed him, fighting his way past the bushes with a little less success.
Logan was focused on the back of the fleeing woman, but was peripherally aware of the clustered group on the volleyball court. A small portion of his mind wondered why the damn kids hadn��t scattered and taken cover. Then he realized one of them was running toward *him*.
��Mr. Logan! Mr. Summers!!�� The girl pointed back at the group just as the O��Sullivan woman reached it. ��It��s St. John! He��s hurt!��
��What?�� He faltered in his pace as the rest of his mind caught up with his crisis reaction. He now remembered that the scream hadn��t been a *woman��s* voice. He pulled back to a jog as he neared the group and saw that the woman was on her knees by the sobbing, gasping boy, a look of fierce control on her face, while she poked and prodded his arm.
��All right,�� she was saying. ��Can you move your fingers?��
��It hurts,�� the boy gasped.
��I know it hurts, but try to move them,�� she ordered while she checked the pulse at his wrist. St. John gritted his teeth as he slowly wiggled his fingers. Logan saw a slight flinch in the O��Sullivan woman��s face as he did so. ��Good. Now, can you feel me touching your hand?�� she asked as she stroked his fingers.
��Yeah....oh, GOD!��
��Don��t worry, sport,�� she said. ��You��re gonna be okay.��
Scott reached the group at that point, panting slightly and puzzled. Logan shot him a glance that said ��play it cool for now��, then turned back to observe the scene. The woman finished her exam and looked around irritably.
��Where the hell is...�� She noticed Logan and Scott standing over her. ��Are you the teachers?��
��I am,�� Scott replied, getting his breath back and brushing the leaves from his clothes. ��What happened?��
��Apparently, this young man tried to make a dive for the ball and landed wrong. I think he��s dislocated his shoulder, but we��ll need a x-ray to be sure. Anyone have anything I can use for a sling?��
One of the kids tossed her a jacket. She caught it and gently strapped St. John��s arm to his body. ��Okay, one of you warm up a car and let��s get him to the ER.��
��Actually, I don��t think that will be necessary.��
Everyone jumped at the Professor��s voice. For a paraplegic, he had an uncanny talent for making quick and discrete entrances. He smiled reassuringly at St. John and turned to Chris. ��I believe we have all the equipment you need to take care of him here, if you would be so kind, Miss O��Sullivan.��
Chris glared at him. ��You��re Professor Xavier, right? Well, I don��t care how well your school first aid station is stocked. This kid needs to be in the ER! And he needs a doctor, not a student doctor to take care of this.��
The Professor��s smile only widened a fraction. ��Please, Miss O��Sullivan. I assure you our first aid station is much more high tech than you think. You understand, we��d rather not...expose our students to public hospitals unless absolutely necessary.��
Chris scanned the crowd of children around her, noting the physically obvious mutations in some of them, and nodded reluctantly. ��Yeah, I can see that, but...��
��Besides,�� he gently interrupted her, ��Dr. Grey is only ten minutes away. If you can keep St. John comfortable till she gets here, I��m sure she can supervise you as you reduce his shoulder.��
She didn��t like it. That was obvious. Logan could read her frustration in every line of her body. And...something more was wrong. Why the hell was she carrying her arm so stiffly? And what was so familiar about the expression on her face? Finally, she nodded and rose to her feet, pausing to brush off the grass-stained knees of her dress slacks.
��Okay, sir. You��re the headmaster here. On your head be it.�� She jerked her chin at Logan. ��Mind helping me get this boy to the nurse��s office?��
***
An hour and a half later, Jean brought a rather chagrined student to Xavier��s office. The underground medical bay had been better stocked than most trauma centers Chris had been in. St. John��s shoulder was now back in its socket and the boy was now tucked safely in his bed with painkillers sending him off to sleep. Scott and Logan broke off their conversation as the two women entered the office. The Professor welcomed them warmly and motioned to the chairs waiting for them.
��I trust St. John is doing well.��
��Yes, Professor,�� Jean grinned. ��Chris did an excellent job.��
Chris blushed at the praise and chewed her lip as she met Xavier��s eyes. ��About earlier...��
��Don��t worry about it, Miss O��Sullivan,�� Xavier reassured her. ��You acted as a doctor should. You could hardly have known what arrangements we had here.��
��Yeah, but still...I guess this is where I tell about why I��m here.��
��Well, we know the general reason,�� Scott said from his perch on the corner of the desk. ��But, if you don��t mind giving us the specifics. Jean couldn��t tell us more than `I��ve got a new student for you�� over the phone lines.��
��Well...�� Chris raised a hand to rub her shoulder. ��I guess you could call what I do `telesthiesia��.��
��Tele-what?�� Logan scowled.
��Telesthisia,�� Chris sighed. ��If an-esthiesa is lack of sensation, then what I to is telesthiesa. I can sense what others are feeling.��
Logan��s scowl deepened. ��Isn��t that what you do, Jean? I thought you called that stuff empathy.��
Jean shook her head. ��Completely different, Logan. I sense what people are feeling emotionally. Chris here can sense what they are feeling physically. Her psychic ability seems to be tuned exclusively to the sensory areas of the human brain.��
��I started noticing something different in high school.�� Chris slumped in her chair as she continued her tale. ��At first, I thought it was just nerves. As it got stronger, I was scared I might be having a nervous breakdown or something. I thought they were hallucinations. Then, one day, my friend cut her hand on a piece of glass and I realized I was hurting in the exact same place.��
��And you realized these sensations were not `just in your head��, as it were. That you were a mutant.�� the Professor finished. Chris nodded.
��It took a few more instances like that, but it finally got through to me that I was...different. When I realized this, things were a little better. I could say `It��s not me. It��s someone else�� and try to ignore it. Sometimes, if I concentrated really hard, I could block them out. But, I couldn��t keep it up for long, and strong, sudden sensations could break through.��
��You had this going on and you went in to medicine?�� Scott��s tone was evenly divided between respect and incredulity. ��Didn��t you realize what would happen?��
��Yes, damn it, but medicine is all I��ve *ever* wanted to do! I thought I could handle it!�� Chris snapped back at him. But her glare abruptly flowed out of her face and she let her head drop back against the chair. For a moment, she seemed much, much older and worn to the bone. ��And it��s obvious that I can��t, now, isn��t it? First two years weren��t too bad. It��s mostly classroom work anyway, but once I got onto the wards...��
Logan then realized what had looked so familiar about her expression outside. It was one he��d seen on wounded and tortured men holding themselves together by sheer force of will.
��I must admit,�� Xavier said thoughtfully, ��I��m impressed with how much you��ve been able to take. With so much pain around you and with no way to block it out...you must have a strong mind to remain sane through all of that.��
Chris pulled herself up a little straighter in her seat with a humorless laugh. ��Sometimes I wonder if I *am* sane. Anyway, I had no clue what to do, but I knew I��d break if I didn��t find some way to control this.�� One of her sudden, surprising grins blossomed across her face. ��You don��t exactly advertise this school aggressively, you know.��
��Do you blame us?�� Jean asked dryly.
��In this climate, no. Anyway, I took a long shot that a mutant advocate might be the place to start and here I am. And I hope like hell you can help me.��
��I do believe we can.�� Xavier steeped his fingertips together. ��I��m very glad Jean was able to get the head of Pediatrics to let you live out here. We only have a few weeks to get you trained before you go.��
��Four weeks, but there��s another rotation in Emergency Medicine I can take out here if I apply right now. That will extend it to eight.��
��I suggest you do so. Even still, it will be rather intensive. And I��m sure your sleep will be much more peaceful away from the hospital.��
��And how!�� Chris sighed. ��If it��s not the trauma cases keeping me up in the ICU, it��s the interns and the nurses in the linen closets.�� A sudden silence fell, and Chris blushed as she realized what she��d just said.
��Mind explainin�� what you mean by that, kid?�� Logan asked. Chris�� face was now a furious red. ��Well...it��s the *powerful* sensations that always break through to me. Like pain and...�� After a pained pause, she dropped her face into her hands. ��Let��s just say that I��ve had a *much* more extensive education in human sexuality than I expected.��
Logan looked up at Jean and Scott. It didn��t take a telepath to tell what they were thinking. Chris couldn��t see the expressions of shock and horror on their faces, but Logan could see just fine. He started to laugh.
��It��s *not* funny!�� Chris said with some heat, thinking he was laughing at her. Of course this only made it worse. Xavier��s face was perfectly straight, but there was a slight twitching around his mouth that indicated he was holding it that way by an extreme effort of willpower.
��I don��t think you��ll have to worry about anything like that here,�� he finally said. ��We do have some guest quarters which are shielded against all mental...impulses.��
Logan didn��t think it was possible for a person to look grateful and glare at the same time, but, somehow, the two lovebirds pulled it off. Chris, still oblivious to this by-play, breathed a heartfelt ��Thank God!�� This was the final straw. Logan burst into laughter that only grew as the glares were turned on him. He quickly got out of the room before someone resorted to murder.
Author's Notes: See Chapter 1 for disclaimer. Special thanks to Shai and Twiller for betaing and pointing out a flaw that could have sunk this story. Please ask before archiving.
***
Chapter 2
��Again.��
Chris wiped the sweat from her face and struggled to order her mind. When it was clear, she set up her shields. Building them had been her first lesson. That had taken three nights before she mastered the trick. For three weeks her main exercise had been holding them against the pain she encountered on the wards. Now she had to hold them against the Professor��s attacks. She shot him a sour glance while she readied herself. They��d been at this for three hours straight, and he didn��t even look ruffled. He hadn��t even loosened his tie!
Intellectually, she knew this was to be expected. After all, he had experience, but it was still annoying as hell. Chris poured her strength into her shielding till it seemed like tungsten steel...only to jump in shock as the Professor slipped through again with a mental smack.
��Not good enough. Again.��
~Smug bastard.~
He arched an eyebrow. <*Is that any way to address your teacher?*>
Shock, then fury as she realized he was in her thoughts.
��Get OUT of my head!�� she yelled.
<*Make me,*> he sent back at her, his expression as calm as a Zen monk.
Chris reined in her runaway temper. One of the first things he��d taught her was that anger would undermine her mental efforts. She gathered her strength and forced him out of her mind. He nodded with satisfaction.
��Better, but you need to keep me out to begin with. Again.��
��Why did you do that?�� Chris ground out between clenched teeth. ��You had no right...��
��You accepted me as a teacher. If you don��t like my methods, you are perfectly free to leave.��
Anger flared within her. ��You know I can��t do that, but you have no right to invade my thoughts. Damn it, it��s not like my patients are going to force their pain into me.��
Xavier favored her with a withering look. ��If that is all the insight you have, it��s a wonder you��ve gotten this far in medicine. Come now, doctor, why would I possibly want to put you through this?��
The scorn in his tone took her immediately to the attending physician��s grilling sessions. She forced her emotions aside to look at the problem logically...and understood. ��You��re not the only psychic out there. I may have to defend myself against them someday.��
He nodded again. ��Indeed. And, since you��re a type of psychic yourself, you are even more vulnerable to their attacks than an otherwise `normal�� human. That is unless you are trained properly.�� He steepled his fingertips together. ��Now that you��ve finally deduced the point of this little exercise, let us continue.��
His tone challenged her, and Chris could never resist a challenge. She cleared her thoughts, shielded and grinned defiantly. ��Lay on, MacDuff...��
Xavier frowned and struck at her. The blow crumpled her shields and knocked her out. Chris came to a few seconds later to hear him murmur. ��And damned be he who first cries, `Hold, enough��. Again.��
***
Pillows are wonderful, comforting things. Especially when one has a desperate need to curse coupled with less-than-soundproofed walls and the presence of minor children. Chris had managed to muster enough energy to get back to her room after the Professor��s ��exercise��, but no more. She��d fallen, face first, onto her bed, and screamed every curse she knew into the pillow. It took a while, but the fit passed and she relaxed enough to savor the ��silence�� of her shielded quarters. How many years had she been burdened with other people��s sensations? Being reduced to her own, solitary sensory input was almost scary at times, but, oh, how restful it was.
Chris turned over to stare at the ceiling and felt a weary smile stretch her lips. It was going to work. After all her fear, of losing her dream, of losing her sanity, she��d found a way. It was going to be hard, probably painful, but she could handle hard and had been dealing with painful for years now. And while she was getting her act together, she had this wonderful sanctuary to retreat to when things got to be too much.
~Hell, once I get this thing under control, I��m going to be one of the best diagnosticians in medicine! I��ll know exactly where and how my patients hurt even when they can��t tell me.~
The image of how proud her family would be slipped through her mind, but it was quickly followed by memories of heated argument between her father and grandfather. They seemed to happen every time the family got together these days. The last one had been at Christmas. Her mood went back into a downward spiral. ~If only this was as easy.~
A knock at the door startled her out of her thoughts. ��Hey, is it safe to come in?��
Chris wearily hauled herself up to a tailor��s seat on the bed. ��For you, Jean? Of course. I try not to kill people in my bedroom anyway. Gets blood all over the blankets.��
Jean opened the door with a laugh. ��Good. ��Cause the cleaning bills are a bitch. Anyway, seeing it��s been a while since you��ve eaten and you��ve been put through the Professor��s School of Hard Knocks, I brought a peace offering.�� From under her hunter green sweatshirt, she produced two spoons and a half-pint ice cream carton. ��Rather difficult to smuggle this past all the teens in the main room, but I made it. I take it you like chocolate chip.��
��Safe passage granted!�� Chris said, her eyes starting to sparkle as she made room on her bed and threw up a light shield for comfort��s sake. ��I��m rarely in so murderous a mood that ice cream can��t bring me out of it.�� In a few moments, the two of them were digging into the open carton. They were both silent for the first few mouthfuls and Jean took the opportunity to study her foundling. Even with little more than a week of training (and more likely attributable to the undisturbed sleep made possible by the shielded room), Chris looked much better. The circles under her eyes had faded and the hollows in her cheeks were filling out lending some softness to the sharp lines of her face.
��So,�� she said around a frozen mouthful, ��how bad was he?��
��What?��
��You know what I mean. You��re sitting there pounding your brains into peanut butter and, not only does he not break a sweat but he has to be so calculating about it.��
Chris chuckled. ��Like Bobby Fisher taking on a ten-year old that just learned chess? That��s him. I know it��s gotta be this way but it��s...��
��Annoying as hell?��
��Yeah. I take it you got the same treatment.��
Jean��s face grew wistful as memories of those first years surfaced. ��Of course. Xavier found me rather late compared to the kids out there. I was in much the same shape you were.��
��Sensations are bad enough,�� Chris said with a shudder. ��I don��t want to know what it��s like to have thoughts crowding in on you.��
��It��s not fun.�� Jean scooped out another spoonful and slowly sucked it down. It had been hell. Day in, day out, assaulted by other minds. Seeing things that were never meant to be seen outside their skulls. Avoiding people, retreating for fear that she��d lose her already tenuous grip on sanity. And, over all, the fear of what would happen if someone found out...
When Xavier found her, it was the answer to her deepest prayer. He��d brought her here, to this refuge and taught her, his first student, one of many. Then came Ororo, and then Scott. It had been a peaceful time. The public wasn��t really aware of the increasing number of mutants. She��d finished school, gone on for her M.D./Ph.D., fallen in love and started to pay Xavier��s gift forward to the new students.
Then the reports of mutant criminals started coming in.
Jean shook herself out of the grip of memory. ��It will get better, you know. Soon, you won��t have to fight to keep shields up. It will be second nature.��
��I know,�� Chris sighed. ��I keep telling myself that, in two months, at least this problem will be taken care of.��
Jean caught the emphasis. ��*This* problem?��
��Well, I��m not sure if you guys can do anything about my other problem. You see, certain relatives of mine are...not quite friendly to mutants.�� Chris turned her spoon ��round and ��round in her fingers. ��You see...well. Have you heard of Gerald Davidson?��
Jean jerked like she��d been stuck with a pin. Gerald Davidson was Vice-Chairman of the Society for the Protection of Personal Freedom. Enlightened name notwithstanding, it was one of the more virulent anti-mutant groups in the eastern U.S. Chris saw her reaction and sighed. ��He��s my grandfather.��
***
��So, what do you think of her?��
��I don��t know.��
��Come on! She��s been here for almost two weeks.��
��Yes, going from work to the Professor��s office and then straight to her room. And that��s when she stays here at all.��
The student lounge was your typical teen crash site: overstuffed, slightly shabby furniture, books and various stages of homework scattered on the floor, a large t.v. in the corner turned to a music video channel and teenagers sprawled over every available surface. One particular study group, consisting of Bobby, St. John and Marie, was clustered around a 12-pack of Coke. Bobby pulled a can out of the box, quick-chilled it while he popped the top and took a large swig. ��What about you, St. John? What do you think of that O��Sullivan chick.��
��Woman, Bobby,�� Marie said, rolling her eyes. ��She��s a woman.��
��Girl, woman, chick, whatever. She checks on that shoulder of yours about every day. What do you think?��
St. John absently rubbed his injured shoulder. ��Huh? She��s okay.��
Bobby shook his head in exasperation. ��Okay? Just okay? Don��t you realize what a chance you have here? She doesn��t already have a boyfriend, does she?��
Marie and St. John looked up in surprise. ��What? You think I should ask her out or somethin��?��
��What are you thinking, Bobby?��
��Come on! Do I have to draw a picture for you?�� Bobby leaned forward with a conspiratorial grin. ��She��s going to be a doctor. And she��s not that bad looking either. Go and find out how to make her happy and you��re set for life!��
��Great!�� Marie sighed. ��We have two aspiring, young gigolos.��
��Aspiring whats?��
��Players, golddiggers, whores. Whatever you guys call them.��
��Hey! Don��t lump me in with him! It��s not my idea.��
Marie gathered her books and one last coke from the case. ��Well, I��ve had enough. Both of History of Western Civ and Bobby��s dating strategy. I��m off to bed.��
����Night, Marie.��
��Later, Marie.��
Marie, also called Rogue, slowly trudged down the hall. Finals were coming up and she was feeling the pressure. Of course, if her study partners would actually study instead of gossiping, things would be a lot easier. No matter, she couldn��t get any more done tonight. She was almost asleep on her feet. However, in another section of the Mansion, sleep was the last thing on the minds of the faculty.
***
��She��s WHAT?!��
The entire faculty, plus their short-tempered guest were gathered in Xavier��s office. Jean had hoped that he wouldn��t have been included in this, but Xavier had let him stay when he��d invited himself to the unexpected meeting. She had known breaking this to the rest of the staff would be difficult, but Logan took paranoia to a whole new level.
��That girl��s Gerald Davidson��s damned *granddaughter*?!��
��Logan, would you please calm down?�� Jean rubbed her temples in a vain attempt to ward off a headache. ��It��s highly unlikely that he knows what she is.��
��Oh, really, Red. The granddaughter of the head honcho of a pack of thugs that make the KKK look like pikers just *happens* to be a mutant and just *happens* to make her way to Xavier��s secret Superhuman University?! Do you think you��re livin�� in a damn movie?��
Jean held on to her temper and tried to keep the sarcasm in her response to a minimum. ��In which case, she would just *happen* to spill the damning relationship over ice cream with a teacher in said Mutie U.?��
Ororo cut them off cleanly. ��If *both* you would please calm down, and discuss the situation like adults. Now, Jean, Logan has a point.��
��Surely you can��t believe she��s an agent.�� Jean turned to Xavier for support. ��Professor, we��ve both seen her thoughts...��
��Indeed, and I��ve seen nothing to indicate any treachery. But we cannot ignore the possibility that she could be used without her knowledge.��
��That makes sense.�� Scott said grimly. ��If you know your enemy��s a mind reader, you couldn��t send anyone who knows what the real objective is. It��d blow your whole operation out of the water from the start.��
��But no one sent Chris!�� she nearly shouted in exasperation. ��She found us on her own.��
��But can we be sure about that, Jean?��
A quiet knock on the office door made them all jump, and Logan��s claws shot out with a #snick#. A startled yelp filtered through the door and it flew open to reveal Chris. She was dressed in the sweatpants and T-shirt she generally wore for bed, and her hands and teeth were clenched from sharing Logan��s pain.
��DAMN IT!! WOULD YOU STOP THAT?!�� she shouted, and then murmured something under her breath about making shields second nature.
Jean winced inwardly. ��Couldn��t sleep, Chris?�� she asked.
Chris came the rest of the way into the office and glared at Logan till he pulled his claws back in. Then she pulled a chair around and fell into it. ��Yeah. I figured if I couldn��t sleep, I should check and see how things were going. I take it you told them. Are they operating under the worst-case-scenario assumption like you figured?��
Jean shot a poisonous look at her colleagues. ��Yes. Their main fear is that you��re being used without your knowledge since the Professor and I could pick up on any...unfriendly intentions.��
��Oh, this is just great,�� Chris groaned as she let her head fall against the chair. ��Okay, sports fans. How do you prove that you��re *not* being used without your knowledge? Because I sure as hell am not being used *with* my knowledge by anyone, much less the SPPF.�� She looked around the room expectantly. ��Well? I��m listening.��
Scott had the good grace to look abashed. ��You��ve got a point, Chris. I��m sorry. You understand we have to be careful.��
��And none of us doubt your intentions,�� Jean added with a pointed look at her fianc�� Scott caught it and sighed.
��But we have to consider these questions,�� he continued. ��After all, we��ve got about a hundred kids here to worry about.��
Chris chewed her lip for a moment. ��Okay, I understand. I can tell you this much, granddad doesn��t know anything about my mutation.��
��Are you sure about that, kid?�� Logan growled. Chris cast her eyes up at the ceiling in a silent plea for patience.
��Well, *I* haven��t told him. He made his views of mutants quite clear long before my talent started showing up. Hell, I haven��t told any of my family about this yet.�� She fell silent for a moment, lost in unpleasant memories. ��It wouldn��t have been pretty if this got out.��
Ororo walked over and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. ��Are you going to tell them eventually?��
Chris looked up, startled and a little frightened. ��Why should I tell them?��
��Because secrets have a way of coming out. Have you thought about how they��ll react?��
Worry twisted her face as she contemplated this. ��Well...Dad would be shocked but okay with it. He��s the always first to argue back at granddad over mutant��s rights. Mom doesn��t agree with granddad��s views either, but it��s her father we��re talking about and...Mom doesn��t like to rock the boat. Granddad...I��m not sure how he��d react. Badly, I know, but I��m not sure in what way. Cover it up, disown me...��
��How about kill you?��
Chris came up out of her chair and rounded on Logan. ��Are you crazy? That��s my grandfather you��re talking about!��
��Oh, I know who I��m talkin�� about,�� Logan replied with a grim smile. ��I��m talking about the Vice-Chairman of the SPPF. You considerin�� what it would do to his clout to have a mutie for a granddaughter?��
Her face went dead white as she vehemently denied what he was saying. ��But..he��s my grandfather! He wouldn��t...��
Logan snorted at her naivete. ��I��ve seen people do a lot worse to blood kin for even less motive. You��d better start thinking about what to do if that happens.��
Chris stared at him in horror and turned to the Professor only to find him nodding in agreement. ��He��s right, Christa, and there are several students here who can tell you how right he is.��
Her mouth hardened with stubbornness. ��I don��t care what you say. Granddad is a bigot and leader of a pack of bigots, but they don��t go around killing people. All they��ve done is march, hand out flyers and push for laws.��
��In public, yeah,�� Scott said shaking his head. ��But when the cameras are gone...It wouldn��t do their image much good to be seen beating mutants up now, would it? We don��t have any proof about your grandfather��s organization, but we do have suspicions. And, even if they *aren��t* actively participating in violence now, these types often progress to it.��
��You really think he��d hurt me if he found out?��
��Maybe not himself, but I do think you��d be in danger. If not from him, then from someone working with him. Davidson may well balk at hurting his granddaughter, but someone else whose power is tied to his may not have any problem.��
Chris looked around at each of the teachers, stricken. Her grandfather had been distant sometimes, but he��d always been proud of her. He��d bragged to his friends about his ��bright little star in medical school��. When she��d pictured him discovering her secret, it had been the loss of that pride in her that she��d dreaded. The idea that it would go farther than that was inconceivable. She dropped her eyes and chewed on her lower lip, an old habit when she was nervous or upset. ��So, what do I do now?��
��First,�� Xavier answered, ��you get your powers under control.�� He gestured at her hands. ��Your reaction when you came in here shows you still have a way to go.��
��Thanks *so* much for reminding me,�� Chris grimaced.
Jean gave her a sympathetic laugh. ��Just hang in there. You��ll get it.��
��From what you say, it��s unlikely that you��re being used as any kind of sleeper agent.�� He steepled his fingers together and looked down at his desk. ��But I have some resources I can employ to make sure you are not. In the meantime...�� His eyes flashed up to hers. ��I do not believe it is wise for your relationship with Gerald Davidson to leave this room.��
Scott nodded in agreement. ��It would do wonders for our students�� peace of mind if this got out,�� he said wryly. ��Second, start thinking about how to approach your parents about this. From what you say, they should take it fairly well.��
��Dad should, at least. They��d probably react better if I just told them instead of finding out on their own, and they��d probably be able to tell if it��s safe to let the whole family know.��
��And while your doin�� that,�� Logan rumbled as he pushed himself away from the wall, ��we also teach you how to keep yourself in one piece if the shit does hit the fan when they find out. How well do you fight?��
Chris sighed wearily. ��I don��t. I can��t.��
��Well, you��ll have to learn.��
��Oh, come on! Think about my power here. Remember what happened when I came in just now?�� She held up her hands and curled her fingers in mimicry of Logan��s claws. ��I feel other people��s pain. It��s worse when I��m close in. Much worse if I��m touching them. I��ve gotten into exactly *one* physical fight since this kicked in. I landed one punch and nearly knocked myself out!��
��We��ll you��re goin�� to have to learn how to deal with it,�� Logan said. ��If you don��t, you��re an easy mark for any punk.��
His wicked grin gave Chris a sinking feeling that her days were about to become even more punishing.
*** End chapter 2
Epona
Boy meets girl. Girl kicks boy's ass! - Ben Browder