Demon In My View
Chapter Three: Strange Days Indeed
by
Libby Edwards
Disclaimer: Property of Marvel Comics. I do not own them. I sure-as-hell wish I did.
Author's note: I originally posted the first two chapters of another X-Men story of the same name on ff.net, as well as on a personal page I had created. After the second chapter, and despite some very nice reviews (thank you, those that gave me feedback!), I decided that I really wasn't happy with where the original story was going, although I was excited about the basic premise (which unfortunately was not made very clear in the initial posting). I took some time off, rethought my idea, and this story you are now reading is the result of that retooling process.
While I have tried to stick as close to canon as possible, I am a firm believer that canon is there to be a support, and not a stranglehold, so if there are a few departures from canon here and there it is because I truly did not feel that those elements were necessary. Also, as in all my Logan-centric stories, Wolverine is tall, because I don't like a short Wolverine. Call it artistic license, if you like. :)
Enjoy!
Hank padded along the hall outside the dining room, following generally in the direction Ororo and Kitty had gone as he made his way toward Xavier's office. The hallway was gradually beginning to fill with young people, and Hank waved and warmly acknowledged the greetings of the older, returning students. He was also pleased to note that the new students...after their initial shock over seeing a gigantic creature covered in shaggy blue fur ambling casually down the hall...returned his smiles with genuine ones of their own, their eyes curiously alight as they watched his progress down the corridor.
Up ahead, he saw Remy detach himself from a small throng of students at the door to the kitchen, looking visible annoyed by the sudden influx of kids at lunch hour. Remy did not see Hank, however...he turned to his left and began to weave his way past students, the back of his long brown duster flapping in his wake.
"Wait up, mon frere," Hank called genially. He hurried to catch up with Remy, putting one massive arm around the slender man's shoulders as Remy stiffened in mild surprise. "It's just me...I truly apologize for startling you, if that is what I have just accomplished."
Remy grinned a little. "Non, you didn't. I jus' t'ought you was a student or somet'in'."
"There do seem to be a plethora of them this year," Hank said, falling into step beside Remy and casting a curious glance at the students pushing past them on their way to the dining room. "I do believe this is the highest student enrollment rate this school has ever seen."
"Where you on your way to?" Remy asked.
"To see the professor. You?"
"De same. Jubes came an' found me in de kitchen...she says de Prof got somet'in' he wants to discuss wit' de teaching staff."
"Kitty basically relayed the same message...although why one of our resident telepaths does not simply contact us himself, as he usually does..." Hank grumbled.
Remy shrugged. "I t'ink he don' like to use his powers unless it be a 'mergency. Dat way, he don' jump in your head when you're on de can or somet'in'."
Hank looked askance at Remy and blinked, then burst into hearty laughter. "Remy, your magnificent ribald humor will never fail to astound me."
"Dat's a good t'ing, non?"
"Indeed."
They reached the main hall, passing the gleaming curve of the mahogany stairs as they marched up into the subdued gloom of the second floor, and abruptly the crowd of students thinned, leaving Hank and Remy plenty of room to maneuver themselves across the hall's wide floor toward the set of polished double doors directly opposite the stairwell. One of the doors already stood open, and as they drew nearer, they saw Kitty step out of the room toward them, her head still turned toward the inside of the office as she smiled and murmured something to someone still within.
Remy strode forward quickly and snatched up Kitty's hand, lifting it to his lips in a cavalier gesture and kissing her fingers. "La belle Kitty-Cat. Remy meets you again so soon."
Kitty rolled her eyes and pulled her hand free of his, although her smile remained. "Watch it, Cajun," she said goodnaturedly.
"You not stayin' for de meeting?" he asked.
"No, I've already discussed most of it...the professor talked to me earlier, and I still have some unpacking to do." She ducked her head back inside the office. "See you later, guys!"
There was a chorus of murmured "okays" and "see-you-arounds" from inside, then Kitty patted Remy's arm and squeezed past both him and Hank, strolling off toward the stairs with her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. Hank then took the opportunity of gently prodding Remy inside the warm interior of Xavier's office, easing inside himself and immediately feeling, as always, as huge as an elephant in the wood-paneled coziness of the room...coupled with the fact that the room was already full of six other people.
Xavier was seated behind his desk directly opposite the doors, and he looked up from the stack of papers and files on the desk before him as Hank and Remy entered the room. Ororo was there already, of course, perched calmly on the arm of the overstuffed leather sofa with her hands folded delicately in her lap. Bobby and Jubilee sat on the sofa itself...Bobby leaning back and staring at the ceiling with his arms folded behind his head, and Jubilee resting her head in his lap, her legs crossed at the knee, one of them bouncing up and down distractedly as she chomped on her bubble gum. The others in the room were Jean, looking particularly lovely in an emerald green tank top and matching shorts (which showed off both her shapely legs and her brilliant red hair to breathtaking advantage)...and Warren (the third member of the "Blue Crew," as Jubilee had wittily dubbed Hank, Warren, and Kurt), standing stiffly behind the highbacked chair near the door, his massive wings rustling softly and making the small room feel even smaller.
"I had the distinct suspicion that you would be looking for us, Charles," Hank said with mild amusement. "It would seem I was correct."
"You were, Henry," Xavier replied with a smile. "We're just waiting on two more...Kurt and Logan."
As if on cue, the space in the middle of the room directly over Xavier's Turkish rug suddenly erupted in a small explosion of burnt crimson and smoke. Everyone jumped, Jubilee uttering a small shriek as the cloud of noxious murk billowed to the ceiling, accompanied by a sound that resembled the muffled thump of a match set to gas.
In other words, a bamf.
"Merde, Kurt...do you mind?" Remy grumbled, fanning the air in front of his face. The sulphurous smell of rotten eggs began to fill the room...Kurt's eyes appeared first, glowing yellow through the dissipating fumes that concealed his body, then as the smoke cleared the rest of him came into view, looking particularly odd in his priestly vestments...considering a smoky entrance that the devil himself would have envied.
"I'm sorry," Kurt said contritely, noting the wrinkled noses and muffled coughing coming from the others present. "But I didn't want to be late for the meeting."
"Don't worry about it, Kurt," Xavier said, smiling despite the smell offending his nostrils. "Have a seat, please."
Kurt turned to sit in the chair in front of Warren, settling himself into it just as the door to the office opened again and Logan came in. "Well, hell...the gang's all here, I see," he said gruffly. "Where's Cyke?"
"He'll be along momentarily," Xavier replied. "But as he is already aware of the purpose of this meeting, his presence isn't really required." The professor indicated the end of the couch where Bobby and Jubilee sat. "As soon as you take your seat, Logan, we can get started."
"Move it, kid," Logan said. He grabbed one of Jubilee's ankles, prompting a caw of mock outrage from the girl, then he swung her legs out of the way long enough for him to sit down beside her. She promptly pulled her legs free and stretched them out across his lap, earning a raised eyebrow from him.
"You know, you look way too comfortable, Jubes," Bobby commented, looking down at her with a frown.
"Bite me," Jubilee replied cheerfully.
"So what's the story, Charles?" Warren interrupted. "Kitty and Ororo mentioned something about a new teaching curriculum. Is that what this is about?"
"It is." Xavier leaned forward, picking up a pen and twirling it absently between his fingers. "As most of you have probably already guessed, our enrollment count this year among our students is one of the highest we have ever experienced...and without a doubt it has caused the highest student to teacher ratio that we have ever had."
"The hallways do seem a bit crowded," Remy remarked, the side of his mouth lifting in a slight grin.
"Crowding, I'm afraid, may become an even bigger issue in our classrooms, Gambit," Xavier replied. "In truth, we have almost too many students this year, at least in regard to the number of classrooms available for instruction purposes."
"When other schools have that problem, they just ship the kids to other school districts," Warren said.
"Yes, but we don't have that option," Jean replied. She looked from Warren back to the professor. "There aren't any other places for most of these kids to go, are there?"
"Unfortunately, no."
Kurt steepled his fingers under his chin thoughtfully. "So where does that leave us as teachers? Can this be fixed?"
"I think so, yes," Xavier said. "Which leads me to the real purpose of this meeting. There are going to be some changes in our teaching schedules, I'm afraid...but I think you will find them interesting, and these changes will better facilitate our lesson plans with the students." He leaned back in his chair and flipped his pen onto the desk lightly. "I'm also planning on making some changes in the curriculum itself, as you have already heard...in order to take advantage of the more diverse teaching staff we have managed to acquire this year."
"Yes, Kitty told us that you had offered her a teaching position," Hank said. "Teaching computer technology, I believe."
"Yes, and there will be other teachers added as well," Xavier said. He smiled at the others as they exchanged curious glances. "But I will get to that in a moment. For now, let's discuss the changes in the teaching schedules."
"What sort of changes did you have in mind, Professor?" Ororo asked.
"As you know, I have tried very hard to keep a low student to teacher ratio here at the school, but this is going to prove impossible this year, if we leave the schedules as they are," Xavier explained. "There simply are not enough classrooms for us to split the classes into smaller units, and we don't have the time to build annexes right now...at least not this year." He paused, allowing them to absorb this before continuing. "This problem can be fixed, however if we simply double up on the number of instructors teaching any one class. The student-teacher ratio is kept low..."
"Yet the students are together in one class," Jean finished. "It's a good idea, Professor...I think it might work."
"I think so too," Xavier agreed. "But despite the obvious stroking of my ego," he continued with a smile. "I would like to hear what the rest of you think about my idea. Any comments? Concerns?"
The others exchanged glances once more, then Warren spoke up again. "I think I speak for everyone when I say that this is a good plan, Charles."
"But?"
"Well, I, for one, would like to know more about who is being paired with whom."
Xavier leaned forward again and lifted a single sheet of paper from the top of the pile on the desk in front of him. "So far, I have only made a few changes," he said. "Classes do not actually start until after the weekend, so I still have a bit of time, but for now the following alterations have been made." He cleared his throat and read off the paper. "Bobby and Henry...Intro to Biology, and two of the intermediate chemistry classes."
"Cool," Bobby interjected, giving Hank a grin and an enthusiastic thumbs-up.
"Warren, you will be joining me as an instructor for the Business classes," Xavier continued. "Many of our returning, upper-level students have signed up for those. Jubilee, you will be assisting Jean with the English and basic math tutorials."
Jubilee groaned dramatically, prompting a quiet chuckle from Logan.
"Gambit, you will be doing double-duty in the self-defense classes, assisting Ororo in the mornings and Logan for the afternoon sessions."
"Works for me," Remy replied.
"And that leads me to the new classes," Xavier said. He picked up another sheet of paper from the pile. "And the new teachers. As you already know, we have added Father Wagner here to our teaching staff..."
There was scattered applause from Kurt's companions in the room. "Never thought we'd be callin' you Father anything, Elf," Logan cracked.
"Kurt has been employed as our school's chaplain," Xavier continued. "He will also be teaching a new class that I am implementing this year...World Religions. It will be part of our history curriculum."
Ororo looked at Kurt and favored him with a surprised and lovely smile. "How fascinating, Kurt! I am so glad you agreed...that should be an interesting subject."
"I'm glad you feel that way, Ororo," Xavier said, smiling at her. "Because I hoped to ask you to assist him."
Ororo's look of surprise grew more pronounced. "Me? Why me?"
Kurt spoke up almost shyly, his soft German accent lilting over his words. "It was my idea, 'Ro," he said apologetically. "Knowing your religious beliefs and background, growing up in Africa as you did, I thought that we might work well together."
"I agree with Kurt," Xavier added. "Your nature-based faith, coupled with his Catholicism, will provide for a well-rounded, hopefully unbiased view of the world's religions." He folded his hands together on his desk. "I can't think of two people better suited to teach such a class."
"Minglin' wit' de pagans," Remy said. He gave Kurt a slightly sardonic look, and Ororo wondered again at the barely concealed hostility Remy was displaying. "Don' seem very Catholic, Father Wagner. You sure dat your Bishop will approve?"
"Actually, Remy, it's very Catholic of me," Kurt replied genially. "The Church takes what is good from every religion in the world and makes it Her own. That is what 'catholic' means...to be universal."
"I think it is an excellent idea," Ororo said, shooting Remy a warning look.
"As do I," Xavier said. "Another class we will be adding this year is a combination Art Appreciation and History class. Ororo has graciously offered to teach this class...I'm assuming that offer still stands?"
Ororo nodded. "Of course."
"Good," the professor continued. He looked up from his papers and fixed Logan with an almost merry look. "Unfortunately, I don't have any other teachers free to assist you during the only available time for that class...except for Logan."
There was a pause. Logan's eyebrows shot up as his face dissolved into a scowl. "Did I hear you right?"
Remy and Bobby began to snicker quietly, while Xavier lifted an eyebrow in return. "I believe so, yes," he said pleasantly. "And contrary to popular opinion in this room," he added, fixing Bobby and Remy with a disapproving look. "I think you have much to contribute to an art history class...especially with your considerable knowledge of Eastern cultures."
"Do not worry, Logan," Ororo said with a soft laugh. "It will be fun, I am fairly certain."
Logan shook his head. "Man, you guys so owe me one."
"Does that mean you'll do it?" Xavier asked, smiling.
"Yeah," Logan grumbled. "Yeah, I'll do it." .
"Excellent!" the professor said, sounding very pleased. "And that brings me, ladies and gentlemen, to the last note I had for this meeting today." He put down the sheets of paper he held and folded his hands on the desk. "As I mentioned before, we have some new additions to our teaching staff this year. Kurt and Kitty you know, of course, but I hope to be welcoming a third teacher to our staff as well."
"Really?"
"Cool..."
"Who, Professor?" Jean asked.
"A man named Jeremiah Shaw," Xavier replied. "His daughter, Rebecca, will be joining us as a student this year, and it was merely good luck that caused our paths to cross on the matter of the teaching position."
"Is Herr Shaw a mutant?" Kurt asked.
"No...as far as I know, his daughter is the first manifestation in their family."
"What will he be teaching?" Warren asked.
"History and music," Xavier replied. "He holds doctorates in both subjects, as well as theology..."
"Wait a second," Warren interrupted, holding up a hand. "Doctor Jeremiah Shaw? From Duke University?"
Xavier paused. "You know him, Warren?"
"I know of him," Warren said slowly. "But he can't be the same guy. The Jeremiah Shaw that I know was, at least until recently, one of the biggest supporters...both vocally and financially...of the anti-mutant legislation bouncing around Washington." Warren folded his arms across his chest. "I've never met the man, but he caused some problems for my business holdings in the past, trumping up all sorts of accusations against my Washington contacts simply because my businesses happen to be run by a rather visible mutant."
"It cannot be the same person," Ororo said. "Charles would never hire..."
"It is the same person, Ororo," Xavier said. "Now wait just a minute," he added quickly, seeing the outraged looks coming over the faces of the others. "Please keep in mind, until Dr. Shaw's own daughter manifested her mutation just last year, Dr. Shaw's mentality concerning mutants was not unlike the mentality exhibited by the vast majority of our human neighbors. However," he continued, lifting one finger for emphasis. "I believe we should all have the opportunity to be judged by our present actions, and not our past. I have personally met with Dr. Shaw, and his daughter. I can assure you that he loves his daughter very much, and since the adolescent revealing of his daughter's abilities, Dr. Shaw has quite abruptly ceased his lobbying in Washington...in fact, he seems to be slowly changing his politics in favor of mutant rights, which, in light of his present family situation, only makes sense."
There was a moment of silence. "You said Dr. Shaw holds a doctorate in theology as well," Kurt said thoughtfully. "Perhaps this is off the subject, but I couldn't help but wonder...wouldn't Dr. Shaw be a better choice for the world religions class?"
Warren snorted behind him. "I think I can answer that one," he said. "Dr. Shaw's political leanings may have changed, but I doubt that his religious affiliations are any different. Jeremiah Shaw is as fundamentalist as they come." He laughed shortly. "A real holy-roller."
"What does that mean?" Ororo asked curiously.
"It means dat he's a Bible-thumpin', brimstone an' fire, hell an' damnation kinda guy," Remy said with a grin. "Lemme guess...Pentacostal Holiness or Southern Baptist?"
Warren shrugged. "Got me. On second thought, though," he added, leaning down to give Kurt a knowing wink. "This might be a lot of fun after all. I'd love to see ol' Reverend Shaw go a round or two with our own Father Wagner."
"That's enough, you two," Xavier said mildly.
"Is he indeed a minister?" Ororo asked.
"Yes, he is," Xavier replied. "But he will not be fulfilling that position here, unless, of course, a student wishes to specifically seek him out." He sighed. "Warren, while I am pleased that you have some knowledge of Dr. Shaw, I do wish you would keep you more...incendiary...views about him to yourself. I do not wish our teaching body to have negative expectations about the man before they have even met him."
Warren stiffened a little, looking slightly chastened. "I apologize, Professor. I was trying to speak honestly..."
"And it was much appreciated," Xavier said, his smile softening his previous words somewhat. He looked at the others expansively. "I do hope, however, that all of you will endeavor to forget Dr. Shaw's somewhat nefarious past, in light of his acceptance of this teaching position. I believe he is trying to do the right thing...and we must help him in that goal as much as possible."
"Don't sweat it, Chuck," Logan said, stretching our his legs and crossing them at the ankle. "This Shaw guy will be fine...hell, we all have shit in our past we ain't proud of."
"Well said," Xavier replied, his lips twitching slightly. "Is it settled, then?" He glanced at all of them in turn, and after a pause they all nodded and murmured acquiescence.
"When can we expect Dr. Shaw?" Ororo asked.
"He has a conference that he is conducting in New York, which unfortunately falls on Sunday night just before classes begin," Xavier said. "His daughter is with him...and because the conference cuts so close to our classes starting, I offered to send someone to pick up both him and his daughter in New York and bring them back here that evening. Whoever goes will take the Blackbird, of course," he added. "Any volunteers?"
"I ain't got nothin' better to do, Chuck," Logan said casually.
"Good. Thank you, Logan." Xavier looked at Ororo. "How about you, Ororo? Logan could use a co-pilot, I am certain...as well as the company. It may be a long evening."
Ororo smiled. "I believe I am free as well."
"Good. Then it's settled." Xavier began to straighten up the piles of papers here and there on his desk. "That's it, then, unless you have any questions. Logan, I will give you and Ororo more information on where and when you will be collecting Dr. Shaw and his daughter, and as for the rest of you, you're free to go."
With a rustle and several soft murmurs, the others began to rise and leave. As Logan passed Kurt, he leaned close for a conspiratorial whisper. "Just thought I'd let you know, Elf," he growled with good humor. "There's an entire pint of Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream in the freezer."
Kurt grinned, flashing his sharp fangs. "I call dibs..."
"Not if I get there first," Logan chuckled, and they followed the rest out the door.
* * * * *
Thirty minutes later and less than forty miles south of the school, in a high-rise hotel apartment in Manhattan, a young girl timidly opened the door of her father's suite and slipped inside without a sound. It paid to be quiet when you were the daughter of Dr. Jeremiah Shaw...it paid very well indeed. The quieter you were, the less likely he was to take notice of you...and for Rebecca Shaw, staying unnoticed around her father was the closest thing she knew to heaven on earth.
Rebecca padded softly across the thick carpet, moving from one shadow to the next with a stealth a cat would have envied. Her father was on the phone, thank goodness...deep in conversation, from the look of him. She breathed a tremulous sigh of relief (although not too loudly) and hurried past the door of his makeshift study, hoping he wouldn't look up from his desk...
"Rebecca."
She stopped immediately, her heart sinking as she turned obediently toward her father. There was no thought process to this...obeying her father was ingrained so deeply that if the Reverend Shaw had told her to jump off a cliff, she would have done so before her automatic sense of self-preservation had time to kick in. Rebecca took two steps forward, just into the warm golden light of her father's desk lamp, then stopped, folding her hands before her demurely.
"Yes, Daddy?"
"Sit down, please," Jeremiah said, in a tone of voice that belied the cultured politeness of his words. "I'll need to speak with you in a moment."
"Yes, Daddy." Rebecca did as she was told, coming into the room quickly but quietly and sitting down on the uncomfortable leather couch under the picture window. The sun was making its slow, careful way down the dome of the sky behind her, turning the thousands of windows in the thousands of buildings into panes of sparkling diamond...but Rebecca didn't notice. She was too busy watching her father's face as he returned to his phone conversation, trying desperately to read the emotional weather brewing there.
"Yes...yes. Of course," her father was saying. She watched him as he leaned back in his chair...he was a big man, with brawny arms covered in golden hair, and a head full of thick golden curls above icy blue eyes and a square chin. Even in his late forties, he was a handsome man...if you could get past the hard, cold set of his lips, and the chill of his stare. Rebecca hated it when he stared at her...it made her feel guilty, no matter how innocent she thought she was.
Of course, according to her father, there was no such thing as an innocent female. Always remember, Rebecca, that it was Eve's disgrace...Eve's sin...that brought down the wrath of God on man. Women are born evil. Never forget that.
No sir...she wouldn't forget it.
Her daddy would make sure of that.
"Well, Professor Xavier...oh, I may call you Charles? Thank you, sir," Jeremiah said, although with his thick North Carolina accent it came out more like suh instead of sir. Rebecca pricked up her ears curiously...Professor Xavier was the headmaster at the special mutant school she was going to be attending...the same one that her father might be teaching at as well. "I'll be looking forward to meeting them," he continued. "What did you say their names were? Oh...yes..." Jeremiah picked up a pen and scribbled down something on a pad of paper close by. "Ms. Munroe and Mr. Logan. Yes...yes...I can't wait. Neither can Rebecca."
Rebecca's heart sank even further. While she had been practically ecstatic at the thought of going to a special school, one for people just like herself, when she had found out that her father might be teaching there as well she had felt her elation collapse like a popped balloon. And now it seemed as if the professor had indeed offered him the job.
"May I make a suggestion?" Jeremiah said. "Since I have to attend the conference anyway, and Ms. Munroe and Mr. Logan will be here as well, would you please extend them my invitation to be my guests at the dinner that evening? I would love to have them attend..." His eye fell on Rebecca once more, and he smiled thinly. "And I am sure that Rebecca would enjoy the opportunity to meet two of her new teachers before school begins."
There was a pause, during which Xavier apparently was saying something, and then Jeremiah laughed...his patented, "big-hearty-Southern-preacher" laugh, which was every bit as phony as it sounded real. "Excellent," he said. "Tell them that it is formal attire, and I'll meet them in the hotel lobby. You have the location, correct? Good." There was another string of conversation on Xavier's end. "Of course. I'll see you then, and thank you once more, Charles. Yes. Goodbye."
Jeremiah hung up the phone carefully, then glanced up at Rebecca. "Well, it's settled," he said. "I have the teaching position. We'll be going to Xavier's school together."
"That's great, Daddy," Rebecca replied, trying on a smile that felt a few sizes too small. "What will you be teaching?"
"History and music...although, if you ask me, they could use a good religious studies instructor as well," Jeremiah said shortly. "They have one, of course...an idol-worshipper, if you can believe it. The Papists have infected the mutant community as well."
"You mean a Catholic?" Rebecca asked timidly.
"Of course I mean a Catholic!" he snapped. "Just another name for heathen. It doesn't matter, though," he said in a slightly calmer tone. "They're all mutants, like you. Fallen from grace and in need of the Blood of the Lamb. Don't you ever forget that, Rebecca," he continued, letting the full weight of his righteous, disapproving gaze fall on her thin shoulders. "You're a mutant because of your sin, girl...and this is a den of sinful iniquity into which we venture forth. Don't you ever forget that."
"No sir," Rebecca said, her eyes downcast as her cheeks burned with shame.
Jeremiah paced toward the picture window, stopping and surveying the view with his powerful hands thrust in his pockets. "Have you finished packing yet?" he asked.
"No sir...not yet."
"Then go do it."
"Yes, sir." Rebecca stood up and turned to leave the room, trying vainly to smooth the wrinkles from her skirt as she headed for the door.
"And Rebecca?" he father called after her.
"Yes, Daddy?"
"Say a prayer before you start," Jeremiah said, never turning from his thoughful watch of the Manhattan skyline. "Ask the Lord for forgiveness of your sins. Again. Ask Him to forgive you for being the mutant that you are."
If God made me a mutant for being sinful, she wanted to ask. Why should I ask for forgiveness for something He did to me? But Rebecca wasn't a stupid girl...questions like that would get you a smack across the mouth, or maybe even a punch in the stomach...pulled at the last second, of course, so you only lost half your air, but a punch nonetheless. So Rebecca only nodded and bit her tongue.
"Yes, Daddy," she said softly, and Jeremiah nodded, dismissing his only daughter as she fled silently from the room.
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