Claiming to be Wise…Romans 1:22
“Perhaps…I could have handled the situation better.”
It had been three months since the ‘situation’ in question had occurred. Jean was looking out the window in the Professor's study, at the sun just beginning to set over the grounds. She loved this place so much, loved this view, the peace and verdure that soothed her soul.
Tonight she barely noticed it. She turned at Xavier’s words with a short, uncomfortable laugh. “I don’t really think it could have been handled any worse.” She came back to the sofa and sat down beside her mentor’s wheelchair, reaching for the cup of tea that was waiting for her. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t what I meant. I know you tried.”
Charles Xavier sighed. “I truly regret that Logan felt the need to leave. I should have realized that sufficient trust hadn’t been established…” He stopped himself. “No. That is an excuse.” He pressed his lips together in a wry grimace. “For all the good telepathy does me sometimes, I might as well be deaf and blind.”
“The whole thing was unfortunate. I don’t really think there was anything you could have done. He didn’t trust any of us.” Jean kicked off her shoes and drew her feet up on the sofa with her.
Xavier regarded his protégé fondly. “How are you, Jean? This must be a difficult time for you.”
She gave him a weary smile. “Not as much as all that. This was a long time coming.” She set her cup down carefully. “Scott and I…we’d been growing apart for a long time. It wasn’t just this, you know—it was just the final straw.” She looked away for a second. “How are your sessions with Marie going?”
“Slowly.” Xavier accepted her change of subject. “She doesn’t trust me either. Small wonder. On some level she undoubtedly blames me for Logan’s departure.”
Jean laughed shakily. “Believe me, not half as much as she blames me and Scott. You’re a distant third at best. She hasn’t spoken to me since the night it happened.”
“It’s a difficult situation. I can’t hold out any real hope of her being able to control her mutation, and that has been a bitter disappointment to her.” He leaned forward. “Medically, do you think there are any avenues we might explore?”
“I don’t know. Other than physical block of her skin…and that’s not really any different than her wearing gloves. I didn’t learn much from the examination I gave her when she arrived, and now—“ Jean waved a hand. “She doesn’t want anything to do with me. Maybe later, when she’s...recovered a little. I don’t want to hold out false hopes either. That would really destroy her.”
Xavier nodded. “Then all we can do is watch and wait.” He lifted his own cup. “She has a real talent for art. I’m arranging for her to take special classes. Whatever we can do to engage her interests may help her adjust to her life here.”
“There’s no chance that her parents…” But Xavier was already shaking his head. “My god. She must feel—”
“Jean…” Xavier hesitated just slightly. “Forgive me if this is too personal an inquiry, but—Logan gave you no indication of intending to return?”
Jean felt a lurch in her stomach at the memory. “Professor—”
“I cannot help thinking that my suspicions, unwarranted as they may have been, may have hurt more people than Marie and Logan.” Xavier’s deep blue eyes held her gaze with a power she knew well.
She exhaled shakily. “Logan made it pretty clear he wasn’t coming back.” She lifted one hand briefly, then let it fall back to her lap. “I’m just sorry he left believing everyone here thought the worst of him.”
“Not everyone,” Xavier said quietly.
Jean caught her breath and looked at him sharply, but he wasn’t reading her, just watching and waiting for her answer. “He let me read him—just briefly, before we arrived. I saw things..." She trailed off again, remembering the shock of those images. "What happened to Logan was horrible, whatever it was, but I couldn’t get very far. And he didn’t much like that I’d seen what I did.” She met his eyes directly. “I liked him, Professor. Very much. He’s a complicated man, and very different from anyone I’ve ever known.”
“And you might have been able to help him.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know that. I don’t know that he would have let me try again. I think maybe the only reason he let me try at all was that he didn’t really believe I could do it.” She tried to find the best words to explain what she knew about Logan. “He’d never have trusted me with that knowledge of him. I’m too, I don’t know…”
“Civilized?” The Professor had a slight smile as he offered the suggestion, and she smiled back.
“I’m a doctor.” Xavier nodded at that, turning it over in his own mind. “’Analytical’, maybe. He’d always have felt like a problem I was trying to solve. That’s what I do, after all.” She finished her tea and got up, slipping back into her shoes. “And speaking of which, I have to go check on something in the lab.”
“Very well. Thank you for stopping by, Jean. I’ll keep you apprised of how my sessions with Marie are going.”
Jean closed the office door quietly behind her and turned, then gasped in surprise. Marie herself was standing there, an oversized sweater pulled around her thin frame.
“Are you done discussing me now?”
Jean could feel her pain, a sharp psychic stab. She pushed the sensation away. “Marie, we’re more than willing to talk to you directly.”
“Why did he leave?”
That was certainly direct enough. “Let’s go to my office,” Jean suggested.
“No. Here. Just answer me.”
Jean swallowed. The questions was simple enough, but the answer wasn't, and there was no part of Logan’s last conversation with her that she felt it would be wise to repeat out of context. And other parts she couldn't possibly tell. “I think he blamed himself for hurting you. I think he was afraid he’d hurt you again if he stayed.”
“You made him leave.” Marie’s gaze was accusatory.
“No, Marie. I promise you that. That wasn’t what happened.”
The younger woman stared at her for a long moment, and Jean felt almost as though her mind were being dissected the way Xavier could sometimes do. “So he didn’t say anything. About me.”
“Marie—it wasn’t your fault. Just wait. We can try and contact him—” Jean knew she was floundering, that this wasn't what she ought to be saying, but Marie's too-intense gaze left her feeling strangely caught off-center, no time to think.
“Don’t bother. He won’t come back.” Marie looked down, at last, and Jean felt an unreasonable relief at being released from that critical gaze. “I don’t want to be called Marie any more. I want a new name, like everyone else has.”
Jean was a little taken aback by the sudden change of topic. “All right. Of course. Whatever you want. You can think it over—”
“I know what I want to be called. I read it in a book.” The girl looked back up with eyes that were serene, and veiled, and far too old for her. “I’m Rogue.”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
In which we begin...only begin, mind you...to move on.
Chapter End Notes:
Once again, thank you all for the wonderful comments. Y'all are the wind beneath my wings!