Chapter Text
"I believe in nothing,
Not the end and not the start.
I believe in nothing,
Not the earth and not the stars.
I believe in nothing,
Not the day and not the dark.
I believe in nothing,
But the beating of our hearts…"
— "100 Suns", 30 Seconds to Mars
Chapter 1
Twenty Years Ago
She had asked Erik in a letter if he was willing to assist her in a sensitive matter. He had offered his assistance cautiously.
He had come with her here, though he was skeptical. "I still don't know why I'm here, Charlotte," he said as they got out of the car.
Charlotte stood and stretched. "Well, I needed someone to drive the car, didn't I?"she said, grinning. "Besides. I may be projecting myself here as capable of walking, but I can't physically drive." Not when she was, in reality, physically in her office at the moment.
He inspected her for any giveaways that the Charlotte Xavier he saw beside him was an illusion. Curious, he snatched at her hand and raised an eyebrow when he could not feel her hand. She tapped her temple. "You forget, love."
"Can't you just make them say yes?" he asked as they walked toward the house.
She shrugged. "That is not my way. I would expect you of all people to understand my feelings on the misuse of powers."
He unlocked the gate. "Power corrupts and all that, yes, I know," he said, familiar with the argument. "When are you going to stop lecturing me?"
"When you start listening," she replied with an easy smile. "And I would not take a parents' choice away when it came to their children. Imagine if we were them and someone forced us to agree to send the twins to some strange, distant school."
"I'd like to see them try," he muttered.
She gave him a measured look, and he sighed, conceding defeat on the matter.
"And you're here because I need you," she added.
Erik looked to her curiously. "And why not one of the chil—one of the others? Why me?"
"They are…otherwise busy today," she replied. "And I was glad of the excuse to see you again, old friend."
"How are the twins?" he asked quietly.
She smiled. "They are well. Irene is looking after them; she usually does when I'm teaching or busy. They're quite taken with her…but I think she misses Raven."
After a moment, he asked her, "You're not going to have to meet every one of your possible students in person, will you?"
"No," she replied as Erik knocked on the door. "This one's special."
"It's a beautiful campus," Mrs. Grey remarked. "Don't you think, John?"
Her husband nodded. "Yes, the pamphlet is great. But what about her…illness?"
"Illness?" Erik repeated immediately. "Do you think your daughter is sick, Mr. Grey?"
Charlotte intervened before Erik could ruffle anymore feathers. "Perhaps it would be best if we spoke to Jean ourselves," she suggested. "Alone."
Mrs. Grey nodded, "Yes, of course. Jean! Can you come down, dear?" she called upstairs.
A moment later, the young girl entered the room as her parents left. She stared at Charlotte curiously…
It's rude, you know, to read our thoughts without our permission, she gently thought to the girl, whose eyebrows furrowed.
"Did you think you were the only one of your kind, Jean?" Erik asked curiously.
"We are mutants, Jean," the professor explained. "We are like you."
Her expression was skeptical and slightly arrogant. "Really? I doubt that," she remarked and looked out the window.
Following her gaze, the two adults watched as the cars on the street all rose into the air, levitating steadily.
Erik grinned. "Oh, Charlotte, I like this one!" he said cheerfully.
"You have more power than you can imagine, Jean," the professor told the girl. "The question is, will you control that power—" Outside, the cars settled loudly back on the ground. "—or let it control you?"
Present Day
"When an individual attains great power, the use or misuse of that power is everything. Will it be for the greater good or will it be used for personal or destructive ends? Now this is a question we must all ask ourselves. Why?" Charlotte Xavier asked her Mutant Ethics class. "Because we are mutants.
"For psychics, this presents a particular problem. When is it acceptable to use our power and when do we cross that invisible line that turns us into tyrants over our fellow men."
"But Einstein said that ethics are an exclusive human concern without any superhuman authority behind it," Kitty pointed out.
"But Einstein wasn't a mutant," she pointed out and added with a small smile, "As far as we know."
Students chuckled.
"Now, this case study was sent to me by a colleague, Doctor Moira McTaggert. Jones?" she asked.
The student in question blinked and turned on the television.
Moira was on the screen before a patient in a hospital bed. "The man you see behind me was born with no higher level brain functions. His organs and nervous system work but he has no consciousness to speak of."
The professor paused the screen. "Now, what if we were to transfer the consciousness of one person—say, a father of four with terminal cancer," she theorized, "Into the body of this man. How are we to decide what falls within the within the range of ethical behavior and what—"
She froze, staring out the window at the suddenly stormy skies.
"Professor?" James prompted, concerned.
"We'll continue this tomorrow," she said with a smile. "Class dismissed."
"The forecast called for sunny skies," Charlotte remarked, startling Storm.
"Oh, sorry," she apologized and cleared the clouds.
The telepath came closer. "I don't have to be psychic to know something is bothering you, Storm."
As they returned to the school building, she sighed. "I don't understand. Magneto's a fugitive, we have a mutant in the Cabinet, a President who understands us—why are we still fighting?"
"We aren't fighting but we still have enemies out there," Charlotte replied. "And I must protect my students, you know that."
"Yes, but we can't be students forever."
The telepath laughed. "Storm, I haven't thought of you as my student in years," she replied. "In fact, I thought that perhaps you might take my place someday."
Storm halted in her tracks, staring in surprise. "What about Wanda? I thought she would…"
Charlotte chuckled. "Wanda adores the children, but she knows she would not enjoy being headmistress. She is content with teaching Literature."
"Miss Frost—"
She shook her head. "She's busy running Frost International with her sister. Though I think we may call upon her if we were ever in dire need of their help again."
"But, Scott's—"
"Scott's a changed man," she whispered sadly. "He took Jean's death so hard. And yes, things have gotten better, but you of all people know how fast the weather can change."
"There's something you're not telling us," her former student inferred anxiously.
Charlotte sighed and led Storm to her office, where an old friend waited, chatting amicably with the twins.
"Hank?" she said with delight in her tone.
The blue-haired mutant grinned. "Ororo! Charlotte!" he greeted as Storm hugged him.
"I love what you've done with your hair!" she said.
He chuckled. "I love what you've done with yours." Hank looked to his old teacher. "Charlotte, thank you for seeing me on such short notice."
"Henry, you are always welcome here," she replied, giving him a brief hug. "You're a part of this place."
"I have news," he said, getting straight to business.
She straightened in her chair. "Erik?" Both of the twins stiffened.
"No," he shook his head. "But we are making some progress on that front. Mystique was recently apprehended…"
"Who's the furball?"
She sighed in exasperation. Logan, charming as ever.
"Hank McCoy, Secretary of Mutant Affairs," he introduced himself politely.
Logan nodded. "Right, right, the Secretary. I like the suit."
The professor rubbed her forehead. "Hank, this is Logan—"
He nodded. "Wolverine, yes. I hear you're quite an animal."
Charlotte paused; he was so very different compared to his nervous, awkward teenage self from so many years ago.
Logan was unimpressed. "Look who's talking."
Wanda ignored their bickering. "Magneto's going to come get Mystique," she said. "Is that why you're here, Uncle Hank?"
Hank shook his head. "Magneto's not the problem. At least, not our most pressing one." He sighed. His mind was full of trepidation. "A major pharmaceutical company has developed a mutant antibody, a way to suppress the mutant X gene."
"Suppress?" Charlotte's son repeated.
"Permanently," Hank added grimly. "They're calling it a cure."
Unease filled the room.
Storm, on the other hand, was indignant. "Well that's ridiculous!" she said. "You can't cure being a mutant!"
"Well, scientifically speaking—"
"—We're not a disease!" she continued over Hank.
Charlotte paused in thought. "Storm," she said, quieting her. "They're announcing it now."