Part 3
Category: D/J
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Everything up until the last ten minutes of ‘Two Gentlemen Of Capeside’.
Joey’s eyes slowly opened, to be greeted by a row of trees racing by. It took her a moment to remember exactly where she was. The limo ride had been long, causing her to dose off.
Much to her surprise, her head was resting against Dawson’s shoulder. It felt strange. Only a week ago they were hardly speaking to one another, and she was with Pacey. But in only a few short days, everything had changed. Pacey was the one who didn’t want to talk to her. Heck, she’d be lucky if she ever saw Pacey again.
Of all the people she knew, Dawson was the one she felt most comfortable with. Was it just because they were both mutants? No, she’d always felt that way around him. On the other hand, had she somehow knew they were the same even then? That they were both different?
“You sleep ok?” her old friend asked her.
Silently, Joey nodded. She looked over the other passengers. There was, of course, Andie. The only one in all of Capeside besides her and Dawson who ended up being a mutant. Like her, Andie had no idea what kind of mutation it was.
Joey thought about the theory that girls matured faster than boys. Maybe with mutants it was the other way around? Then again, Dawson’s turned into ‘gravity-boy’ at a very traumatic moment.
The others were virtual strangers to her. Hank McCoy was a biochemist she had seen on television a few months ago, and whom Andie was a huge fan of. Then there was Warren Worthington. His family had founded Worthington Academy, a school she had wanted to attend for years. He carried himself pretty well. Not surprising, since he came from very old money.
Then there was Charles Xavier. He was definitely a weird one. When he looked at her, it was almost as if he was staring directly into his soul with his crystal blue eyes. But for some reason it didn’t creep her out. Somehow she knew she had nothing to fear from this man
She turned her attention back to the trees. They were part of the woods near Salem Centre, which was located in Westchester, New York. As the limo drove down a small stretch of road called Graymalkin Lane, Joey finally saw their destination.
The so-called ‘school’ was unlike anything she’d ever seen before. The circular driveway led up to a large building that appeared almost residential. It looked more like a mansion than a school. As the approached the front gates, the doors opened by themselves. Almost as if welcoming them in.
On the right pillar was a bronze plaque, which read:
“I can’t believe we’re going to be living here,” Dawson muttered. “Quite a step up, isn’t it?”
Joey nodded once again, as the limo went into park.
Dawson, Joey, and Andie stepped out and took in the sights. They could see several students wandering around the grounds. They seemed to range from age twelve to early twenties, all looking relatively normal.
“Welcome back, Professor!” one little boy called out.
Dawson looked behind him, to discover that Warren was already helping him into his wheelchair.
“Thank you, Doug,” Charles greeted him. “That was Doug Ramsey, one of my students.”
“He’s a mutant, too?” Andie asked.
“Yes,” he answered, with a nod. “Doug is able to communicate in any language, even binary code.”
“He can talk to computers?” Joey asked, disbelievingly.
“Maybe he can convince my laptop not to freeze up anymore,” Dawson suggested.
“Ha!” Hank laughed. “I’m going to remember that one!”
Warren crossed his arms, smiling at the group.
“Welcome to the academy!” he announced.
*****
“What is this place?”
The older man looked down at Pacey Witter with a smile.
“Our future, my young friend!” he informed him. “Mankind’s only hope for survival.”
To Pacey, it looked like he was inside a giant assembly plant. Conveyer belts carried pieces of machinery across the floor, to be moulded and pressed, then later assembled into something new.
“What are they building?” Pacey asked him.
“Noticed, did you?” Trask asked him. “Just a little insurance I designed. Here…step into my office.”
The two of them made their way into a back room. Bolivar Trask shut the door behind him, sealing the two inside.
“Take a seat,” he instructed.
Pacey took a seat. He was still quite a bit confused, which was evident in his expression.
“We’re two of a kind, you know that Pacey?” Trask told him. “Both of our lives were ruined by mutants. My son…Larry…well, I’d rather not talk about what happened. Let’s just say it wouldn’t have if it hadn’t been for the mutants.”
Pacey felt sorry for the old guy. Losing his son like that couldn’t have been easy.
“Let me explain this to you,” Trask continued. “They’re not like us. Sure, they may look human…even act human at times. But they’re not human. We’re insects to them. Nothing less than worthless creatures to be stamped out. And let me tell you that we will be. Unless we take precautions.”
“What kind of precautions?” he asked.
“Simple!” Trask exclaimed, smashing his fist onto his desk. “We get them before they get us. We catch them, contain them, and if necessary…destroy them!”
Pacey’s eyes went wide.
“Woah, back up a minute, Doc!” Pacey argued. “You’re sounding a bit nuts right now. I mean, Dawson was a friend of mine.”
Trask chuckled.
“Didn’t this ‘friend’ try to kill you a few months ago?” he suggested. “In some attempt to take your girlfriend from you? It seems to me he did.”
A look of anger flashed over Pacey’s features. He just HAD to bring that up, didn’t he? Sure, Dawson was a little weird sometimes, but he wasn’t a bad guy.
“Can’t say I was entirely innocent either, sir!” he muttered.
“This may be hard for you to understand,” Trask sighed. “But whoever you thought these people were before, that’s no longer the case. They’re mutants. The ‘next stage’ in evolution. Like the Cro-Magnon man was to the Neanderthals. Their only purpose in life is to replace us. Despite any loyalty you feel towards these ‘friends’ of yours, they wouldn’t hesitate to kill you given the opportunity!”
Pacey didn’t know what to think anymore. What if what he was saying was true? That the only friends he ever really had thought of him as some sort of…lower form of life? And the way Dawson had been acting towards him lately…?
Maybe it was all true.
“I don’t know what to think anymore!” he sighed.
Trask put his hand on Pacey’s shoulder, smiling at him.
“Trust me, it will be alright!” he reassured him. “Welcome to Project Wideawake, Mr. Witter!”
Pacey smiled. Somehow, this ‘project’ sounded reassuring.
He was dead wrong.
*****
The inside of the Xavier Institute was just as impressive as the outside. As the three instructors led the three teenagers down the main hall, they could only stare at the various statues and portraits surrounding them.
“This place looks more like a mansion than a school!” Dawson noticed.
“It is,” Hank told them.
“This mansion has been in my family for centuries,” Charles continued. “It’s my ancestral home. When I inherited it, we converted most of the grounds into classrooms and dormitories.”
“Just how big is it?” Andie inquired. “How much of the area is yours?”
“Everything from the road to Breakstone Lake,” Warren answered. “There’s also a beach, boathouse, horse stables, and a pretty big forest. I can take you to see the gardens if you want?”
“Gardens?” Joey inquired, raising an eyebrow.
“Japanese gardens located near the forest,” Xavier informed her. “It pays to have teaching staff who travel. The gardens are really quite beautiful.”
Finally, they arrive at their destination. Xavier’s office.
“Come inside,” Charles instructed them. “Enter freely, and of your own will.
Dawson smirked at the quote. They all complied, and followed the wheelchair-bound man inside his office.
Warren closed the door behind them. Once inside, Joey noticed other people waiting for them. One was a man who looked the same age as Xavier. He hair reddish hair, and long sideburns. A genuine, pleasant smile covered his features.
Next to him was another man, looking almost stoic. He was younger, only about five years younger than herself. He had dark brown hair, a similar shade to hers. The most noticeable feature about him, however, was his glasses. They had a reddish tint to them.
Joey didn’t know how he could possibly see out.
On the other side of the room were two women. One looked slightly odd. She was a tall African-American with white hair. Not grey, but white. A pure white, like snow. Her eyes were crystal blue, similar to the Professor’s. It was as if all her features contradicted each other.
But it was the last person who interested her. The red-haired woman standing in the corner seem almost familiar to Joey, though she couldn’t place the face. It was more of an ‘echo’. A sense of deja-vu.
“These are the new students,” Charles announced, breaking the silence. “This is Dawson Leery, the one I told you about. His companions were tested positive on the gene test.”
The guy with the red glasses sighed.
“So now they’re having kids tested for it?” he asked. “Unbelievable!”
“Now, Scott, we have to understand it from their point of view, remember?” Xavier told him. “These young ladies are Andrea McPhee and Josephine Potter.”
“It’s just Joey!” Joey pointed out.
At that moment, the red-haired woman’s eyes went wide. She stared at Joey for a moment, making her uneasy.
Xavier continued with the introductions.
“I’d like you children to meet the faculty,” he said. “This is Scott Summers, one of my first students.”
Scott shook each their hands one by one.
“How do you do?” he said.
Charles then looked over at the two women near the door.
“These two are Jean Grey and Ororo Munroe,” he continued. “If you have any questions at all, go to either them or Scott.”
The red-haired man stepped forward and introduced himself.
“Sean Cassidy, and I’m delighted ta meet yur acquaintance,” he said pleasantly. Dawson noticed his Irish brogue almost immediately.
Andie shook his hand.
“Charmed!” she said.
Charles scanned the room one final time, searching for someone.
“Excuse me?” he asked the others. “Where’s Logan?”
“Who’s Logan?” Joey asked.
As if on cue, the doors to the study burst open. In marched a man, short and stocky…not to mention soak and wet. His hair was upswept at the sides. This, along with his long sideburns, gave him an almost wolfish appearance.
“Charley?” he exclaimed. “Those kids are driving me nuts!”
“Logan?” Xavier sighed. “Call me ‘Professor Xavier’ or ‘Professor’, or even ‘Charles’ if you must. But I beg of you…do not call me ‘Charley’. It’s very informal.”
“Yeah, sure Chuck!” Logan continued, practically ignoring him. “Look, I get that you need someone to look after the younger ones, but you gotta lay down some ground rules. For instance, no pushing the lifeguard in the pool!”
In the corner, Scott snickered, though he quickly tried to hide it.
Logan gave him a look, but then noticed Dawson, Joey, and Andie for the first time.
“Who are they?” he asked.
“Logan, these are the new students I told you about earlier,” Charles informed him.
“Hey,” Dawson introduced himself, offering his hand.
Logan looked at it for a second.
“Whatever!” he grunted, before turning back to Xavier.
Dawson gave Logan a cold look. It figured…there was one in every crowd.
“Logan, you requested a position at the school, and I gave it to you,” Xavier reminded the newcomer.
“Yeah, but I expected combat training or black ops stuff!” he argued. “I’m not babysitter material.”
“Um…excuse me?”
Everyone looks over at Andie.
“Combat training?” she asked, in a state of shock. “Black ops? Can I be the first to say ‘huh’?”
Logan cringed.
“We didn’t tell them yet,” Jean informed him.
“Yeah,” Scott added. “Nice going there.”
“Oh, shut up!” Logan replied.
Dawson examined them all carefully.
“What kind of school is this, anyway?” he asked.
With that, Xavier smiled.
“I was just getting to that…”
*****
“If there is one thing mankind has a history of, it’s fearing anything that appears different.”
The doors to the large elevator swung open, letting Dawson, Joey, and Andie see the hallway for the first time.
The sub basement was nothing like the rest of the school. Instead of wooden walls with portraits, they were steel. Several sliding doors were visible, each one having a stylized ‘X’ dead-centre.
The three of them followed Xavier down the hallway, their faces a mixture of fear and awe.
“With mutants it’s somewhat worse, I’m afraid” Charles continued, as marched down the corridor. “We’re not simply people with different colour skin or accents. The things mutants can do are, to some, unbelievable. When a normal person meets someone who can freeze objects with a thought or move at incredible speeds, they often react with jealousy. Fear. Often hatred. People are scared of what they don’t understand.”
“Wait, back up!” Joey stopped him. “You said ‘we’, didn’t you? Does that mean…?”
Xavier looks back and Joey and smirks.
“Yes, I am!” he admitted. “I’m a telepath, one of the earliest types of mutations.”
“Oh, I know…” Andie interrupted excitedly. “That means you can read out minds, correct?”
“And project my thoughts,” Xavier added. “I’m fortunate. My particular gift has allowed me to blend in more easily with the rest of the world. The only outward appearance was the loss of my hair by the time I was your age.”
“Gift?” Joey asked. “You’re acting like being a mutant is a good thing.”
“It’s not a curse, Joey,” he argued. “Simply something we’re born with. Come…let me show you something.”
*****
The room was completely round. That was the first thing Andie noticed about it. The square plates that made up the walls seemed almost flawless, with not even a trace of dust on them.
The only thing other than the walls in the room was a small catwalk, leading to the centre of the room. There, strange-looking helmet rested, surrounded by machinery.
“This is Cerebro,” Xavier informed them. “Please, try not to move.”
Xavier placed the helmet on his head, and almost immediately, the room went dark. The panels shifted to show a virtual map of the entire planet.
“With this machine, my mental powers are enhanced almost a million times,” he explained, as they looked on in awe. “It allows me to…”
“To connect with every sentient mind on the planet at once!” Andie finished for him.
Dawson and Joey stared at her in disbelief.
“That’s why the walls are round, to enhance the thought-wave projection!” she continued. “Just like in your book!”
Xavier smiled.
“Precisely,” he acknowledged. “Now, look…”
With those words, several bright white lights appeared on the ‘earth’…almost like stars.
Dawson stared up at the ‘planet’ above him. It was like those presentations at the observatory, only backwards. Instead of looking for constellations, they ‘stars’ were on the earth.
“Are those…people?” he asked.
“It’s beautiful,” Joey whispered. “Hard to believe how they look from here.”
“You are seeing people as I see them right now,” Charles explained to them. “As a pure, brilliant white light. Even those who are corrupt shine like stars. Everyone has meaning. Everyone matters in the scheme of things. And this is only part of the population…”
Suddenly, a swarm of red lights appeared on the landscape. There weren’t as many as the white ones, but it was still a lot.
“These are the mutants,” Xavier told them. “Some of them may not even know they’re any different yet. Living out their lives without any knowledge that, some day, their lives will change forever.”
Dawson gasped in amazement.
“How many are there?” he asked, completely at a loss for words. “I mean…wow!
“When I was twelve years old, my father was killed in an explosion,” Xavier explained. “At the funeral, I knew his lab partner had abandoned him there to die. I knew it because I heard him admit it, inside my head. As I grew older, I learned that mankind will always hate what they don’t understand. That the only way to make them understand would be not through force, but through working together.”
Xavier removed the helmet, as the room returned the normal. He then turned to his new students.
“Now, before I continue, you must promise me that what is said in this school will not be repeated,” he warned them. “If the wrong people find out, it could be devastating. For everyone.”
They all nod in turn.
“Very well,” he continued. “Let’s go on.”
*****
They followed him down yet another corridor, as they passed more and more doorways. One was labelled ‘Danger Room’. The next ‘medi-lab’.
“I founded this school with one goal in mind!” Charles continued to explain. “My dream. A dream of a world where mutants and ordinary people can live in peace together. At this school, I teach my students to accept themselves for who they are, not only for what they can do. Every student must learns that our gifts do not make us any better than those born without them. We are all equal.”
“Then why the ‘combat training’?” Dawson asked. “If all this is some attempt at a genetic peace treaty, then why learn to fight?”
“Not all mutants are good, Mr. Leery!” Charles said matter-of-factly. “Much like not all people are good. There are forces in this world that will use every means at their disposal to get what they want, not caring who is harmed along the way. Unfortunately, a mutant doesn’t need weapons…a single mutant ability is more powerful than any gun. Did you know you could destroy a continent single-handedly?”
Dawson’s mouth hung open.
“He wouldn’t, though!” Joey argued in his defence.
“True,” Xavier agreed. “But imagine someone with less than noble motives having that kind of power. Frightening, isn’t it? I’d disappointed to tell you than such a man exists.”
Now their expressions turned to one of seriousness. Xavier continued.
“Years ago, while working at a hospital overseas, I met a man named Eric Lehnsherr. We worked side-by-side for months, until I realized that he, too, was a mutant. He could control any object made of metal, reshaping it and bending it to his will. Unlike me, he doesn’t view normal people as his equals. He’d seen so much suffering that he no longer believed peace could come…except by force. As time went on, he became darker…colder. He became Magneto.”
‘Magneto’. The name rang in their heads like a funeral march. There wasn’t a person in the country that hadn’t heard of the terrorist who had been involved in the Liberty Island attack just over a year ago.
“I see you’ve heard of him,” Charles noticed. “Magneto believes that the only way to decide the future is through a way between ourselves and ordinary humans. As time goes on, more and more people succumb to his way of thinking. On both sides. If he is allowed to act, there may not be a future at all. Someone has to stop him, which brings me to the other purpose of this school.”
They finally come to the end of the hall, which opens up to a large hanger.
“This has got to be a dream,” Dawson muttered.
Above them, a large blue-black plane rests inside the hanger. It was like nothing any of them had ever seen before.
“Here lies the true purpose of this school,” Xavier continued. “To teach mutants to use their powers, not for their own sake, but to benefit all mankind. Upon graduation, every student is given a choice: either go back into society with the skills necessary to both protect themselves and contribute to society. Or to stay on as instructors…as well as join a strike force dedicated to stopping Magneto and others like him. My ‘X-Men’.
“X-Men?” Andie whispered. “I think I need to sit down…”
“I’ll be in my office,” Charles told them. “If you have any further concerns, please come see me.”
He left, as Dawson, Joey, and Andie tried to collect themselves.
“Well, what do you think?” Andie asked.
“I think Spielberg himself couldn’t dream this up!” Dawson replied. “I have to admit, the man presents a interesting case.”
Joey shakes her head in amazement.
“I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore, Toto!” Joey stated. “This is definitely not like Worthington!”
They left the hanger, and found themselves outside. Breathing in fresh air, they finally started to relax.
But then…
“Enjoy the tour?”
The voice belonged to Warren Worthington. Joey turned around to see him, and was treated to a shock.
Warren now had his shirt off. Granted, that would be a shock to any female in the vicinity, but that wasn’t what surprised them. No, it was the wings.
That’s right…wings. A pair of large, white, feathered wings were sticking out of Warren’s back, stretching to an impressive wingspan. He looked like a hawk. No…more like an angel.
“Hey, Angel?” one of the students asked. “Where you off to?”
“Just getting some exercise,” he replied with a smile.
His wings began to flap as he flew into the air.
“He…he’s flying?” Andie gasped. “Oh my god…he’s actually flying? Did that guy call him ‘Angel’?”
“What?” Joey scoffed. “No fangs? No spiked hair? No flashy trench coat?”
Dawson laughed.
“You realize what we just did, don’t you Jo?” he asked.
“Entered the Twilight Zone?” she suggested.
Dawson grinned in response, watching Warren circle above them.
“Nope,” he stated. “We just enrolled in superhero school!”