Demon In My View
Chapter Nine: Back to the Mansion
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!
Logan stared absently through the glass of the cockpit's windshield, his expression hard and thoughtful as he stared unseeing into the cloudless blue of the summer's morning. He glanced away only once...to look back with a strange expression at the rear of the jet where Rogue had disappeared with Rebecca...then he turned his face back to the window and sat in silence.
His mood didn't go unnoticed by Ororo, however. "Logan, what is the matter?"
He glanced at her, his eyes dark and fathomless, then he shrugged. "Nothing, babe," he replied. "Just thinkin' my thinks."
Ororo watched him for a moment longer, a slight frown marring her features. "It's Rebecca, is it not?" she asked softly. When Logan looked at her again, his mouth set in that familiar hard line, she lifted her eyebrows in question. "I cannot see in this dim light like you can..."
"I know. You couldn't see her face." Logan glanced toward the rear of the jet once more, and Ororo was surprised to see him clenching his fists, almost unconsciously.
"She said she fell...is she badly hurt?"
"The kid looks like she did more that just fall."
Ororo's brows drew together uncertainly. "You believe she is not telling the truth."
"Yeah." Logan looked at Ororo again. "Her scent says she's lyin', anyway."
"You can tell that?"
"Usually," he replied, giving her a faint, bitter grin.
Ororo looked back toward the rear of the plane, honest puzzlement showing on her face. "Why would she lie about what happened? And what did happen?"
"I don't know."
"Somehow, I think you do know...at least something."
"I think...I think you might have been dancing on the edge of it last night, darlin'," Logan replied darkly. His voice seemed to drop several registers when he said it, turning his normal speaking voice into a low growl. "But I'll tell ya what it looked like...it looked like someone punched the kid in the face."
Ororo blinked...then a look of stunning fierceness began to slowly appear in her normally gentle eyes. "It is her father, is it not?" she asked with deceptive softness. "That is why she recoils when he touches her."
"I don't think that too far from the truth, darlin'."
Ororo turned her face toward the window, her expression hard...but then she shook her head slightly and glanced back at Logan. "If it is true, though, Logan, why would he run the risk of hurting her in a manner that we could see? Dr. Shaw did not seem to me like a stupid man..."
"No, he's not stupid," Logan replied. "But I have a feelin' that Rebecca's been tellin' the old fell-in-the-shower story for awhile now."
"So?"
"You tell a story long enough, darlin', and it starts soundin' like the truth," Logan said. "Even to the person who made up the story in the first place. And you're forgettin'...up 'til now, Rebecca hasn't been around anyone but her dad and the crazies in their church...like the Mitchells."
"But school teachers...normally teachers are the first to notice things like that! Did no one notice?!" Ororo asked, incredulous.
"I'd bet my cigars that the kid probably hasn't even attended a regular school...she's been going to one of those little church schools."
"And that means?"
"Well." He gave her a sour smile. "Depends on the school, I guess."
Ororo looked thoughtful. "If she has had bruises in the past, then, you are saying that no one would question them."
"Why should they?" Logan asked caustically. "After all, her father is a bleedin' preacher, for chrissakes."
"Rogue knows something, does she not?"
"Seems like it, yeah." Logan looked out the window again. "Shit...speak of the devil."
Ororo glanced over, watching with a dark expression as Remy and Dr. Shaw exited the door to the stairs and appeared on the roof a short distance away. They began to cross to where the Blackbird waited like a monstrous shadow...Remy had his coat tossed over one shoulder, the wind catching the edges and ruffling them gently, while Dr. Shaw walked beside him, apparently oblivious to the non-stop run of commentary that seemed to be coming from Remy's mouth...the older man's head tilted back as he looked up at the sleek jet with an expression of undisguised admiration.
"What do we do now?" Ororo asked quietly. "We have to confront him, Logan."
"No."
"No?"
"Remember what I said last night? If he thinks we so much as suspect a thing, he'll snatch his kid outta here so fast it'll make your head spin. Then any chance we have of helpin' her will be gone."
"But if he is hurting her, Logan...!"
"Trust me," he said darkly. "He's not gonna lay a hand on her with us around, and you know it. And, as much as I hate to admit it, the fact is this...we don't really know anything, not for sure."
Ororo looked at him steadily. "Does that mean that you are not planning on disemboweling the man as soon as he steps on the plane?"
Logan laughed shortly and shook his head. "No...not yet, anyway."
"I suppose that is a blessing," she murmured.
He grinned at her a little. "If I haven't learned anything else during all the years I've known you, darlin', I did learn this...never lose your temper until you know all the facts."
"And when it comes to Rebecca and her father, we do not know anything at all," Ororo replied, watching the doctor and Remy approach across the rooftop. "That is what troubles me the most, Logan. I feel like the antelope inviting the lion for dinner."
"I know what you mean."
"Should we talk to Rogue?"
"Yeah, but later, when we can grab her and get a minute alone," Logan replied. "There's still the chance that we're wrong. Maybe this won't amount to more than a pisshole in the snow."
"Somehow I doubt that."
"Yeah. Me too."
* * * * *
Remy grinned with a trace of pride as he strolled across the rooftop with Jeremiah, watching from the corner of his eye as the older man stared at the Blackbird, obviously impressed. Despite the fact that Remy absolutely hated flying, there was a certain amount of happy satisfaction in watching the doctor get his first real view of what, exactly, the X-Men were. Remy had never really thought about it before...his place within this strange surrogate family had been taken for granted years ago, and that meant all of the trappings that came along with it...but now, seeing the Blackbird through the eyes of a non-mutant (essentially an outsider, in all honesty) was a refreshing change that Remy found he quite relished.
"Dear God..." Jeremiah murmured. He glanced at Remy and chuckled a little. "This is your private plane? I had no idea."
"Oui, she's really somet'in'," Remy replied with a grin.
"Don't you find it a bit...well, ostentatious, perhaps, for just a school?" Jeremiah asked.
Remy shrugged expressively. "Well, dat depends on de school, I suppose. Dere's a lot more to Xavier's school den jus' education."
"Ah, yes." Jeremiah pressed his lips together thoughtfully. "The X-Men."
Remy cut his eyes toward Jeremiah once more, this time in curiosity. His ears hadn't missed the subtle change in Jeremiah's tone when he had mentioned the name Xavier had bestowed on his team. A subtle note of sarcasm seemed to have slipped into his voice, and it made Remy lift an eyebrow and regard Jeremiah with more than a little confusion.
Eh, well...mebbe he jus' don' like de name. "I'm guessin' dat you'll find out more 'bout dat when you get to de school an' get settled in," Remy said, scratching his head absently as he gave the doctor an apologetic grin. "T'ings been pretty quiet lately anyway."
Jeremiah made a noncommittal sound of agreement. "Tell me, Remy," he said, raising his voice as they got closer to the Blackbird's primordial rumble. "What is it that you do at the school? Do you teach?"
"Some," Remy replied. "Self-defense an' French. I'm only a part-time teacher, though." He grinned again at Jeremiah and shrugged. "I jus' ain' got de patience tah teach kids all day, non?"
"Indeed."
They had reached the gangway to the jet, and Remy stepped aside. "After you, Dr. Shaw," he said, gesturing grandly and giving the doctor a joking little half-bow. Jeremiah paused at the end of the ramp, gazing up at the dark circle of the side hatch with a strangely forbidding expression.
"Well, Monsieur LeBeau," he said calmly, turning his head and fixing Remy with his icy blue eyes. A faint smile touched his mouth. "This is where it begins, I suppose. A new chapter in my life, and Rebecca's."
"I t'ink you're gonna enjoy it, Dr. Shaw," Remy replied, still smiling...but inwardly wondering at the odd look on Jeremiah's face.
"Enjoy it? No doubt, my good friend...no doubt," Jeremiah replied, and he got a better grip on his suitcases and began to walk up the gangway toward the waiting door. "And may the righteous prevail," he murmured under his breath...the words so faint they went unheard by Remy as he hurried up the walkway behind him.
Jeremiah entered the dimly-lighted interior of the Blackbird, pausing a moment as his eyes adjusted, then he just stood there, looking around with extreme interest as Remy slipped in the hatchway behind him.
"Good morning, Jeremiah," Ororo called from the front of the jet. He turned his head toward her, his face crinkling into a pleasant smile as he picked out the figures of Ororo and Logan, sitting side by side in what must be the cockpit of the plane.
"Good morning to you both," he replied graciously.
"So, whatcha t'ink?" Remy asked with a grin. He walked past Jeremiah, beckoning for the larger man to follow him as he eased past the seats and opened the smaller luggage hold.
"It is most impressive."
"Cool, eh? You can put your bags an' t'ings in here."
"Is Rebecca onboard?" Jeremiah asked.
"She is in the rear of the plane, with Rogue," Ororo called back.
"Doing what, may I ask?"
"Rogue said somet'in' 'bout helpin' 'Becca put on some makeup," Remy replied, gesturing at his own face for emphasis. "You know, tah cover up dat nasty bruise she got from fallin' in de shower."
Something flickered across Jeremiah's face, but Remy didn't notice. "I see," Jeremiah said, his smile taking on a frozen look...but Remy had already turned away and plopped down in one of the seats just in front of the luggage hold. Jeremiah finished putting the last of his luggage into the cargo bin, watching curiously as Logan and Ororo flipped switches and pressed buttons in a delicate marriage of movements that couldn't have been more impressive if it had be choreographed.
There was a hiss of air as the hatchway began to close, the slice of summer sky just beyond its opening getting smaller and smaller, until the door clanged shut, leaving Jeremiah standing there, bathed in the ruddy glow of the recessed strip lights along the curved length of the Blackbird's walls. A deeper shudder ran through the jet, and Jeremiah took his seat hastily, his hands hunting quickly for the restraining belt which he snapped shut over his lap. He saw the scenery outside the round porthole beside his seat give a jump as the jet shuddered again, then suddenly rose a foot or so into the air...a series of booming thuds beneath his feet announced the locking of the landing gear into the jet's belly.
A nervous knot anticipation settled itself in the doctor's stomach. This is what the soldier feels when he goes to war, he thought with a sort of grim satisfaction. But how much better to be a soldier for God!
"Ready or not," Logan muttered from the cockpit. Jeremiah watched as Logan flipped a few more switches, then settled his grip on the jet's throttle...as with a rapid cycling of her engines, the Blackbird rose into the sky, turning her nose towards home.
* * * * *
Back at the mansion, the first of the new year's classes was well underway. Kurt stood at the front of his classroom, leaning against the narrow space between two high, graceful windows with his arms folded casually over his chest, idly watching his students quietly scribbling away as the morning sunlight stretched across the floor. The "classroom" was actually a corner of the gymnasium, appropriated as it was every year for one class or another...this year Kurt and Ororo had it for the morning World Religions class, and after ten o'clock the desks would be moved against the wall and it would do double-duty as the self-defense classroom for the rest of the day. Self-defense was a required course at Xavier's school...too often, it was unfortunately the most important class the children took.
"Boy, they sure are writing hard," Kitty commented from beside him, leaning close to whisper quietly. Xavier had asked Kitty to sub as Kurt's assistant in the Religions class that morning so that he wouldn't be short-handed in Ororo's temporary absence. Kurt was grateful...when he had walked in and seen thirty-three young faces staring at him and his odd appearance, with expressions ranging from mild curiosity to fear and even disgust, he had been profoundly relieved when Kitty had strolled in cheerfully and taken her place at the front of the class beside him.
Ach, he thought with a smile. Thank God for small favors.
The students were all bent over their desks, their pens and pencils scurrying across the page as they worked on Kurt's first assignment...an essay on what religion meant to them. He was surprised at the ease with which they had accepted the work and himself...of course, he knew he had Kitty to thank for that, at least in part. It was hard for them to remain standoffish to his peculiar looks, when someone as normal-looking and vivacious as Kitty was standing there, chatting to him about everything and anything as the students worked.
"What was the name of the new teacher Ororo and the others went to get?" Kitty whispered. She was chewing her fingernails thoughtfully...a gesture Kurt had always found absurdly charming.
"Dr. Shaw," he replied.
"He's the preacher, right?"
"Ja."
"You don't think he'll come in here and start trying to boss you and Ororo around, do you?" Kitty asked.
"Nein, Katzchen. He is the music and history teacher."
"You're not even worried?" She gave him a skeptical look. "I've been talking to Warren..."
"Warren has his own opinion regarding Dr. Shaw," Kurt interrupted gently. "They have a past together, apparently, and you know how Warren can be...he doesn't forgive or forget easily. But they will have their own problems to work out, I think." He smiled at her and shrugged. "There will be nothing to affect me or my classes, though, I am sure."
"Aw, Kurt." Kitty grinned and gave him an affectionate poke in the side. "You're so naive sometimes."
"Nein, just optimistic."
"Father Wagner?" One of the girls on the front row had raised her hand...Kurt rifled through the names in his head quickly, then remembered that the girl's name was Casey. She was a tall, buxom blonde, with pale blue eyes and long legs that had turned most of the male heads in the class when she walked in the room. Casey's mutant ability was telepathy, like Jean and Charles, which had undoubtedly pleased the professor a great deal. There hadn't been any new telepaths at the school in quite some time.
"Yes, Casey?" he asked.
"How do you spell Episcopalian?"
"I'll write it out for you." He crossed the room to the chalkboard set up at an angle on the right side of the classroom, where he picked up a piece of chalk in his fingers and deftly wrote out the word Episcopalian on the board. Kurt wasn't surprised that Casey had not simply read his mind for the answer...according to his class roster, she was a returning student, so she would no doubt have had quite a bit of lecturing regarding the impropriety of reading other people's thoughts...especially in class.
Casey watched him write the word, then she grinned delightedly. "I thought that was how you spelled it!" she exclaimed, slapping her hand down on her desk for emphasis...which promptly flipped her pen into a clatter on the floor.
"Ten more minutes, class," Kurt said, crossing back to where Kitty leaned against the wall. "Whatever you haven't finished, you can work on for tonight."
He reached Kitty and turned back around...just in time to see Casey bending over from the side of her desk as she tried to reach her pen. She was wearing a rather low-cut blouse, and as she leaned over, she was inadvertently giving the young man sitting beside her an awe-inspiring view of her rather prodigious cleavage. That particular young man...a freckled, brawny, sandy-haired telekinetic named David...was gaping at her chest with eyes so wide they looked as if they might roll right out of his skull.
Kurt cleared his throat. "David?"
"Yes, sir?" David said promptly, snapping his eyes away from Casey and looking at Kurt with a flushed, almost guilty expression...during which Casey finally retrieved her pen and settled herself back into her desk, apparently unaware of the amazing sight she had just bestowed on the flustered young man beside her. Kurt said nothing, only giving David a faint, amused smile...and David quickly got the hint, dropping his eyes back to his paper as his ears turned a bright red.
"You tell 'em, Teach," Kitty laughed in a whisper beside him. Kurt looked at her with an expression of exasperated good humor.
"When you have a chance, Katzchen," he whispered back with a smile. "Do you think you could convince Miss Casey to wear something a little less...revealing...to class?"
Kitty grinned. "Will do, Father Wagner."
* * * * *
Xavier powered his wheelchair down the halls of the mansion in humming silence, the wheels barely whispering as he rolled along the gleaming hardwood of the floors. A few students were already out of their classrooms, heading down the hall to new classes or simply standing in small groups, laughing and talking amongst themselves as Xavier moved among them.
"Good morning, Professor!"
"Hey, Dr. Xavier!"
He smiled and waved at those that greeted him, then stopped just before the huge double doors that led into the school gymnasium. He sat up slightly so he could see through one of the small windows set into the door,...his eyes flicking around with interest, then settling on the indigo and black shape of Kurt as the young teacher stood in front of his first class.
What an odd picture he makes, this strange young priest...Xavier wondered if Kurt realized that his priestly robes made him look somehow more ominous than regular clothes. He was like a living, breathing darkness amid all that sunlight...the floor beneath the priest's feet gleamed with new wax, and Xavier could even see Kurt's blurred reflection in the floor, shimmering there like a ghostly shadow as he moved...the folds of his cassock shifting fluidly with his movements as he talked animatedly to his class.
Still, Xavier felt nothing but satisfaction. He had harbored no doubts about Kurt's ability to teach...Kurt had always exhibited a wonderful rapport with young people, and now, given the opportunity to instruct in a subject he knew a great deal about, Xavier had been sure that Kurt would take to it like a fish to water. Of course, Xavier thought with a small, private smile. Getting Kurt to believe he could do it had been another thing entirely. And Xavier wondered again why Kurt had been so reluctant to take the position at the school. He would never, ever pry into Kurt's head, even though he could easily...but such self-imposed limitations were not able to completely deaden his acute sensitivity, and ever since Kurt had returned to the school, Xavier had been aware of a deep, desperate sadness surrounding the young man...a sadness that seemed to follow Kurt like a forlorn ghost.
Of course, Kurt had always had a trace of melancholy around him...one that Xavier had always believed to be residue from Kurt's troubled life as a mutant. The others hadn't noticed it, of course...Kurt's natural cheerfulness had acted as a more than adequate shield, for the most part. Lately however...since Kurt had come back, that melancholy had taken on a new poignancy, and it made Xavier worry...and wonder.
Xavier couldn't hear what Kurt was saying, but it apparently was something along the lines of class dismissed. Students began standing up, gathering books, papers, shoving accoutrements into their backpacks...he watched Kurt step back to say something to Kitty, who had been standing quietly against the wall at the rear of the makeshift classroom...then Xavier was obliged to reverse his wheelchair slightly as the doors opened and a veritable herd of highschoolers poured through the doorway and began a chattering, laughing, raucous exodus down the hall toward their next classes.
He waited patiently as the last of them hustled through the doors, then he slipped his wheelchair easily through the wide doorway and crossed the floor to where Kitty and Kurt stood.
"I trust your first class went well?" he asked.
Kurt turned, clearly startled by the professor's quiet appearance...but he recovered quickly and gave Xavier a surprisingly happy smile. "Sehr gut, Charles. It went wonderfully."
"I'm so glad."
"Good job, Fuzzy Elf," Kitty said. She gave Kurt's arm a friendly squeeze. "Look, I hate to skip out on you guys, but I've got a web design class in five minutes. See you later."
"Okay...and thank you, Kitty," Kurt said gratefully. "You helped me out a lot."
"Aw, don't worry about it," Kitty replied. "I didn't do anything." She patted Xavier's shoulder, then phased casually through the wall and out of the room, apparently in too big of a hurry to use the door.
"You don't have another class now, am I correct?" Xavier asked.
"Nein, not until Introductory German at one o'clock."
Xavier smiled."Good. Then would you like to accompany me to meet the new teacher?"
"Now? The Shaws are here?"
"Not yet, but within the next few minutes, yes," Xavier replied.
He turned his wheelchair around and began to hum toward the door, Kurt following behind him as they both exited the gymnasium. The halls were almost empty again...most of the students were already in their next class, except for the occasional straggler that scurried by...throwing apologetic glances at Kurt and Xavier as they made their way down the hall toward the elevator.
* * * * *
The flight back to the mansion aboard the Blackbird was the most exhilarating trip of Dr. Shaw's life, and not just because of the jet's incredible speed, or even the spectacular view he was afforded through the porthole beside his seat. It was mostly because the flight caused him to experience some uncertainty, which, unlike most people, was a state of mind that Jeremiah quite enjoyed. He liked putting his formidable mind to work, deciphering the nuances of pleasure and sin...and an experience as enjoyable as the flight of the Blackbird was causing a mental quandary indeed.
Was the jet itself a sin? Many pleasures were, after all...but that was not a reliable system of measuring vice. Singing a hymn was pleasurable, too, yet it was definitely not sinful if one was properly worshipful when one was doing it. Perhaps his pleasure was godly, then, as this technological wonder was bringing him ever closer to that pit of a school where he ostensibly was to teach...and perhaps, more subversively, to minister to those poor misbegotten mutants in the hopes of possibly salvaging what was left of their tattered souls. Or perhaps it was even the pleasure of turning the handiwork of the devil to a good cause...namely, the salvation of all God's creatures, even the most lowly, like these mutants that had been corrupted by their own sin and were too ignorant to know they should be ashamed.
Carefully, though, he told himself, casting a glance at his daughter and the woman called Rogue that were sitting next to each other across the aisle from him. He had not missed the challenge in Rogue's eyes as she exited the rear of the plane with his daughter in tow...his daughter, made up to look like a harlot Jezebel with all that junk on her face...but he had smiled at them both, nodding politely as Remy had made the introductions, then just as politely turned his attention back to the view from his window, effectively dismissing his daughter from his mind...
...at least for the time being. Oh, but Rebecca... The words were a faint red echo in his mind, and they caused an angry grimace to harden his expression. All sins must be paid for...and yours will be coming sooner rather than later, my dear.
"Look down, 'Becca," Remy was saying. He grinned and tapped his knuckles on the window beside him. "You can see de school down dere."
Rebecca leaned over, pressing her forehead against the glass as she looked down at the rolling landscape...and the mansion itself...spread out like a blanket beneath her. Her eyes widened considerably.
"It's so huge," she murmured.
"It was pretty big tah begin with," Rogue said. "But the professor has been addin' to it over the years."
Rebecca looked at Rogue with a small, worried expression. "It looks like an easy place to get lost in."
"Non, chère, dat ain't not'in' to worry about," Remy laughed, sitting up to fold his arms on the back of her seat with his chin resting on top of them. "You wouldn't get too far before somebody would come lookin' for you."
The jet began to bank rapidly, and Jeremiah heard a series of low beeps from the cockpit. Rebecca, still watching from her window, suddenly gave a little gasp, and Jeremiah looked back out his window as well.
A huge section of the ground to the right of the mansion walls was opening up. A crack down the middle opened first, then grew wider, until a large square of shadow yawned beneath them. The Blackbird shuddered and righted herself, then began to lower evenly as if on a lift, sinking with the rising whine of her hover engines toward that black eye in the ground below.
Jeremiah realized what it was in a sudden flash of understanding...it was an underground hanger. Brilliant, he thought with grudging admiration.
The skyline disappeared from the windows as the jet lowered herself into that hanger, vast silver-gray walls rising up on either side and the brilliance of the sunlight gradually fading into the artificial illumination of the fluorescents that lined the walls at regular intervals. The sunlight grew less and less, and Jeremiah angled his head to watch as the massive doors over them began to close...finally coming together with an ominous clang that resounded even over the roar of the Blackbird's engines.
Like Jonah and the whale, I have been swallowed, Jeremiah mused. He continued to watch through the window as the Blackbird slowly came to rest on the polished metallic surface of the hanger's floor...then his eyes widened as he caught sight of two figures standing close to the rounded wall on the far side of the vast room. One he recognized...it was Professor Xavier, sitting in his wheelchair and waiting with apparent patience as the jet's engines rumbled into silence. The other, well...Jeremiah squinted, certain that he couldn't be seeing the professor's companion clearly...then Rebecca suddenly gasped again and turned wide eyes to Rogue.
"Rogue! Who is that?" she asked breathlessly.
"Who, sugah?"
"He's blue!"
Remy chuckled and stood up, leaning over the back of Rebecca's seat to peer out the window at the two figures standing outside the plane. "Dat, ma petite, is Father Kurt Wagner, de school chaplain."
"He's blue!" she said again, staring at Kurt in dismay.
"Yeah, sugah...an' he's furry, too," Rogue laughed, standing up as well. Rebecca gave her a confused look, and Rogue mussed the girl's hair playfully. "Don't worry...you'll see. An' he might look a bit creepy, but he's really a super guy. You'll like him, Ah promise."
For the first time since she had boarded the jet, Rebecca glanced quickly at her father, her expression a little nervous and uncertain...but Jeremiah only returned her gaze with a cold one of his own. "Let's get our bags, Rebecca," he said quietly, standing up and smoothing his immaculate shirt. "It's time."
* * * * *
The hatchway opened and the gangway extended itself from the hull of the plane, clanging hollowly against the floor of the hanger as Xavier and Kurt watched. Remy was the first to appear, striding down the walkway with his johnny-bag slung across his back and his duster hanging casually over his shoulder. He was followed by a brawny blond man that Kurt did not recognize...and who could only be Dr. Shaw.
"Well, let us go and meet them," Xavier said with a smile. He powered his chair forward, and after a moment's hesitation Kurt followed, hurrying a bit to keep up with the professor's chair as he approached Remy and their new guest.
"Jeremiah...it's so good to see you here at last," Xavier said. He smiled warmly and extended his hand, which Jeremiah took genially.
"It's a pleasure, Charles," Jeremiah replied, his weathered face brightening in a smile. His eyes slid off Xavier's face quickly, though, and focused themselves on Kurt, standing slightly behind the professor's chair with quiet reserve... and the smile on Jeremiah's face seemed to slip a bit. Kurt watched as the doctor's eyes studied first his fur-covered skin and glowing eyes...then Jeremiah's gaze moved to the Roman collar at Kurt's throat and his eyes narrowed slightly, although the smile never left his face.
"You must be the priest," he said, pleasantly enough.
"I am," Kurt replied, smiling in as friendly a manner as he could...all the while painfully aware that his sharp incisors did little to make his smile non-threatening. He stepped forward slightly and held out his hand to Jeremiah...happily surprised when after the barest of pauses, the doctor's smile strengthened and he clasped Kurt's strange hand in his own.
"Dr. Jeremiah Shaw," the doctor said.
"Father Kurt Wagner," Kurt replied. "It's a pleasure." He glanced past Jeremiah then, his eyes following the progression of Rogue off the jet...as well as a small, slight little girl in a long pleated skirt and a pale pink blouse. "That must be your daughter," Kurt added.
Jeremiah turned briefly to look back at the plane, just as Ororo and Logan exited the hatchway and started toward them behind his daughter. "Yes, that is Rebecca," Jeremiah said shortly. He beckoned for his daughter to come closer...which she seemed reluctant to do. She seemed to be trying to hide behind Rogue, but the older girl put her arm companionably around Rebecca's shoulders and hauled her over to where Kurt and the others stood.
"We're back, safe an' sound, Professor," Rogue teased.
"I'm very glad," Xavier replied with an amused smile.
"Charles, Kurt...this is my daughter, Rebecca Shaw," Jeremiah said, acknowledging the girl with a nod. "Rebecca, this is Professor Charles Xavier, your new headmaster...and Father Kurt Wagner, the chaplain."
"Hello," she said quietly. She gave Xavier a tentative, bashful smile...but that smile faltered a bit when she lifted her brown eyes to Kurt. Those eyes were really the only remarkable thing about her appearance...she was dreadfully thin, with pale skin and long, limp brown hair that clung in dismal strands on either side of her face. Her eyes were lovely, though...a deep, rich brown with flecks of gold, looking rather out of place in the wasted paleness of her face.
Kurt didn't offer his hand...he thought she looked as if she might run screaming if he did...but he did smile and give her a small wave of hello.
"How was your first flight in the Blackbird, Jeremiah?" Xavier asked, turning his wheelchair around and moving slowly toward the door.
Jeremiah moved with him, carrying his bags easily. "Breathtaking, Charles. I quite enjoyed it...so did Rebecca."
Xavier looked pleased. "Well if you'll both follow me, I'll show you to your rooms so you can settle in before you meet the others." He glanced at Kurt. "Would you like to accompany us, Kurt?"
"Certainly."
The professor started off toward the door, with Dr. Shaw and his daughter in tow, and Kurt glanced back at the others briefly. Logan was standing beside Ororo, lighting his cigar with his head down and his attention apparently elsewhere, but Ororo was talking rather urgently and in inaudible tones to Rogue, who was responding only with an odd, closed expression. It gave Kurt pause...he stopped and looked at them curiously, then the sound of someone clearing their throat behind him turned his attention back toward the door.
Xavier and the Shaws had already disappeared into the hall. The sound had come from Remy, who was standing a few paces behind Kurt, eyeing the young priest with a slightly sardonic expression. "You comin', mon ami?" he asked.
"Ja, I am coming," Kurt replied. He shrugged inwardly and walked toward the door, leaving this particular little mystery for the time being and following Remy out into the corridor beyond and in the wake of Xavier and their two new guests.
* * * * *
Rebecca had never in her life seen such a place. The halls below, just outside the hanger, had seemed all stainless-steel and pristine to the point of barrenness...but once they had stepped into the roomy elevator and made their silent, humming way upstairs, and the doors had opened onto the main floor of the mansion, Rebecca's eyes had opened wide with wonder and stayed that way throughout the entirety of the professor's tour. Even the presence of her father, walking silently and somehow menacingly beside her, was unable to dampen her jubilant mood.
This was her home now...she was actually going to live in this glorious place! It was like walking through a museum...albeit a comfortable, charming museum, filled with laughing, giggling students and devoid of stuffy guards that deprived you of actually reaching out and experiencing the art for yourself. Rebecca stared in silent wonder as they walked down halls lined with paintings and graceful statuary...oak paneled walls that glowed with their own serene, inner light, and lavish oriental rugs that covered the hardwood floors and spoke to her with the beauty of their vibrant reds and blues and greens.
And the students! While she was still moderately fearful of the strange Father Wagner walking with them, he ceased to be terrifying when she saw the students mingling in the halls and study areas, pouring over books in the library or just lounging in the TV room. While for the most part they were as human in appearance as she (or, at the most, with a minor physical mutation like purple hair or Remy's strange red-on-black eyes), there were a few that bore more obvious signs of their mutation. A girl with white-blonde hair and milky skin, sporting a pair of beautiful downy white wings that made her look like an angel, was pouring herself a glass of orange juice in the kitchen. A boy with black, leathery skin and a wicked looking, bony spine growing from his forehead...he sat on the floor beside the television, watching a cartoon and arguing vehemently with his normal looking companion about who was hotter, Sailor Mars or Sailor Jupiter. There was even a young man bent over tying his tennis shoes...he looked up as they passed, and Rebecca was alarmed to see that he apparently had see-through skin. His muscle-covered skull with its wide, staring eyeballs looked at her quickly...and Rebecca felt like she might swallow her tongue.
After that, suddenly Father Wagner seemed positively normal. At least I can't see his insides, she thought with relief.
They had taken another elevator...this one much less functional in design...to the second floor, and after going a short distance down the hall, Xavier had stopped before one of the doors and pulled a small key ring with a double set of keys on it from an inner pocket.
"This is your room, Jeremiah," he said, sticking one of the keys in the door and opening it with a smooth movement. "Take a look."
Jeremiah waited until Xavier had withdrawn from the door, then he stepped inside and looked around...Rebecca peeking in from around Xavier's chair. The room was large and airy, with three massive, floor-to-ceiling windows directly across from the door, their heavy blue drapes flung wide. The room appeared to be a sitting room of some sort...there was a large, leather upholstered sofa, with a matching chair beside it, as well as a television, fireplace, numerous empty bookcases, and a huge, heavy-looking desk. A single door led off the room, and Jeremiah crossed the floor and opened it curiously, only to reveal a smaller, comfortable bedroom.
"The bathroom is off of the bedroom, of course," Xavier said. He rolled into the room and looked around with a smile. "It's a bit empty, of course, but when your things arrive from North Carolina, no doubt it will be homey enough."
"It's wonderful, Charles," Jeremiah said. He glanced back through the bedroom door again, then gave Xavier a questioning look. "There's only one bedroom, though. I thought Rebecca would be sharing quarters with me."
"Oh, no...Rebecca will be in a room in the girl's dormitories, on the third floor," Xavier replied.
"Oh...of course," Jeremiah replied. He glanced at Rebecca and smiled...and Rebecca shivered. His smile was anything but comforting. She knew he was furious, but that he did not want to say anything, and for that she was both grateful and surprised...her father had never kept silent about anything he felt strongly about, and keeping her as far away from contamination by other, possibly more worldly people was something he felt very strongly about indeed.
Which made it all the more strange that he seemed not to want to argue with Professor Xavier. That made the professor an ally in her book, and she unconsciously took a step closer to him. First the house, then the news that she would be sleeping not just in a different set of rooms from her father, but on a entirely different floor as well...Rebecca closed her eyes briefly and thanked God, for such a blessing could only be His miracle.
She was startled from her thoughts by a sudden female voice in the hall behind them. "Professor?"
"Ah, Jean."
Rebecca turned away from the door and saw a tall, slender, attractive redhead standing in the hall just behind Remy and Kurt, dressed casually in blue jeans and a clean white t-shirt. The woman glanced briefly at Rebecca and smiled.
"You must be Rebecca," she said.
"Y-Yes, ma'am," Rebecca replied. She dropped her gaze to her shoes without thinking.
"Jean, this is Dr. Jeremiah Shaw," Xavier said. Jean slipped past Kurt and Remy and entered the room, taking the doctor's proffered hand and shaking it warmly. "Jeremiah," Xavier continued. "This is Jean Grey, another of our teachers."
"It's a pleasure, Ms. Grey," Jeremiah replied with a smile. "If I had known that all mutants were so lovely, I would have come here a long time ago."
Jean laughed. "Uh-oh...I'm going to have to watch out for you, aren't I?" she said with a grin. "Welcome to the school, Dr. Shaw."
"Please, call me Jeremiah."
Jean smiled. "I saw Ororo in the hall, so I knew you had arrived." She glanced at Xavier. "I came to see if I could show Rebecca to her room, since I still have all the girls' room assignments."
Xavier laughed. "You will find, Jeremiah, that Jean here often anticipates my wants before I utter them. Which usually comes quite in handy." He looked at Jean with a twinkle in his eye. "Carry on, Ms. Grey."
"Come on, Rebecca," Jean said with a smile. She pushed past Kurt and Remy again, giving them looks of amusement. "And what are you two doing? Don't you have classes?"
"I just finished mine for the morning," Kurt replied.
"An' I jus' got back!" Remy said in mock-indignation.
"Go make yourselves useful somewhere, then," she retorted with a laugh, and she turned and started off down the hall with Rebecca hurrying after her.
Rebecca threw a quick glance at Remy as she passed him, and he winked. "See ya around, chère," he said.
"Okay," she replied, a warm blush suffusing her cheeks, although she didn't know why...then she quickened her steps and caught up with Jean, leaving them...and her father...behind.
"Here...let me help you with that," Jean said, taking one of Rebecca's suitcases from her hand before she could open her mouth to protest. "So, what do you think so far?" she asked.
Rebecca looked at her nervously. "About what, Ms. Grey?"
"Oh, gosh...call me Jean, okay?" she laughed. "About the school, of course. What do you think about it?"
"It's huge..."
"A little," Jean said with a smile. "Come on...up this way."
Rebecca followed Jean up another, smaller staircase at the end of the hall, one that progressed in a smooth curve to a landing with a small, round window with leaded panes, then curved up another flight, hugging the wall until they had reached another hall on the upper floor. This one looked just like the one downstairs, where her father's room was, except that this hall was slightly narrower...Jean walked down the hall, almost to the end, and slowed before the only door on the hall that was open. She peeked in and grinned.
"Casey?" she said. She glanced back at Rebecca and motioned for the girl to come over, while still apparently speaking to someone inside the room. "I've got your new roommate."
Rebecca approached the door and peeked in cautiously. She was looking into a large bedroom...there were two twin beds, one by the door and covered in crisp white bedding, and the other against the far wall, covered in alarmingly bright tie-dyed sheets. The walls were covered in posters and masks and all sorts of young girl geegaws...the only other things that immediately stood out in Rebecca's eyes were a small CD player sitting on the dresser by the door, playing something rather softly, and a slightly stranger item...in the far left corner there was a huge tank of some kind, glass-sided and filled with clear, clean water. That...and the girl standing in the middle of the room, looking curiously at Rebecca with a patently friendly expression.
"Rebecca," Jean said. "This is Casey Clements, one of your new roommates." She put down Rebecca's suitcase on the bed closest to the door and stepped aside, allowing Casey to get a good look at Rebecca.
"Um...hello," Rebecca said.
"Well, hey!" Casey said. "They told us you were coming today, but we didn't know what time." She grinned at Rebecca, and Rebecca found herself grinning back shyly...Casey's smile was positively infectious. "I'm glad I decided to come back to the room after class...I almost went outside instead."
"Did your father have your belongings shipped here, Rebecca?" Jean asked.
"Yes, ma'am. H-He said they would probably come tomorrow...but I have plenty of clothes and stuff until then," Rebecca replied.
"I'll leave you to unpack, then, and get to know your new roomies," Jean said with a smile. She glanced at the other girl. "Show her around a bit, will you, Casey?"
"Sure, no prob," Casey replied.
Jean walked back out the door, and Rebecca suddenly felt tongue-tied and nervous again, being left alone in her new room with this gorgeous, tall, blonde creature standing before her. Casey didn't seem to notice, though...she flopped down on the tie-dyed bed on her stomach and grinned up at Rebecca.
"What's your last name, Rebecca?"
"Shaw. Rebecca Shaw."
"Yeah, your dad's the new teacher, right?" Casey didn't wait for an answer before chuckling a little. "Boy, that has to suck...going away to school's no fun if your dad's there too."
"It's all right," Rebecca said, smiling shyly and seating herself on the edge of the other bed. "Umm...Jean said you were one of my roommates. Is there another in here?"
"Oh yeah...Molly," Casey replied. She jerked a thumb toward the giant, aquarium-like tank on the other side of the room. "That's her bed...she's in class right now, but you'll probably meet her when she breaks for lunch."
"That's her bed?"
Casey grinned. "Yep. Molly's an amphibiote...she breathes air and all, but she can only stay out of water for like, three hours or so, before she has to get in and soak for awhile." She shrugged. "The professor made sure she got breaks in between classes though, so that's cool."
"You mean she's, like, a fish?"
Casey wrinkled her nose. "Nah, nothing like that. Molly looks like a person...well, kinda," she added with a laugh. "Hang on...I've got a picture."
Rebecca watched as Casey bounded up from the bed again and crossed to the dresser, brushing aside cosmetics, CDs, and twists of lipstick smeared tissues until she had retrieved a small, brightly-colored picture frame. She came over to where Rebecca was sitting and plopped down beside her.
"There...that's me and Molly last spring, just before school let out for the summer." It was a picture of Casey standing next to another girl, their arms flung about each other's shoulders and big cheesy grins on their faces...but while Casey was tanned and impossibly gorgeous in the picture, the girl beside her completely bizarre. She was bald, with turquoise-hued skin that seemed to sparkle like sun on water.
"Are those...I mean her skin..." Rebecca began.
"Yeah, they're scales," Casey said fondly.
Rebecca studied the picture, noting that Molly's one hand, dangling against Casey's shoulder, had webbing between the long fingers...she handed the picture wordlessly back to Casey, casting a bemused glance at the tank and wondering again at the strange world she had seemingly fallen into.
"I know, its kind of weird," Casey said, misinterpreting Rebecca's silence for unease. "But you really will like her, I promise."
"I'm sure she's great," Rebecca said honestly, surprising herself with a real smile at Casey. The blonde girl seemed to hesitate a bit, then she smiled back...and in that smile it felt like they became friends.
"Look, I've got some time before my next class," Casey said. "You don't have to unpack yet...want to go downstairs with me and meet some of the others?"
"Now?"
"Sure...why not?"
Rebecca blinked...never in her life had one of her peers accepted her so quickly and so openly, without reservation or funny looks or...or...anything. So what could she do?
"Coming?" Casey asked.
"Yes." She smiled nervously. "I'm coming."
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