The X-Mansion, for a building chucked full of indigenously blooded teens, stood erect with picture perfect serenity, proudly proclaiming its structural integrity.
Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, a modern day medieval castle of old estate, was a secret public sanctuary for mutants under the purview of the elderly Charles Francis Xavier, Professor X to those in their circle, and a close knit group of aides and friends.
It was both a sanctuary, a learning place, and a boot camp to the children that grew within its walls; a place that Charles Xavier had built to nurture every young mind that came his way, way back from his youthful days.
So yes, it was a miraculous thing that the old money-looking castle had survived generations of volatile empowered adrenaline junky hormonal teenagers, and it was not for a lack of them trying.
Students walked down the hallways with various expressions on their faces, chattering the day away with a sense of safety that eluded most mutants in their day-to-day life.
On the topmost floor, in an expansive office room that smelt of aged wood and expensive leather, Charles Xavier and his teachers were having a lightly tense meeting that had become a frequent thing in the last few weeks.
Hank McCoy, a blue beast of a man, was currently speaking, or rather repeating the same phrase he had been repeating for the last few weeks.
"… none of them have heard anything about a cure." He said with the bare tremble of an irritated growl. "Whatever it is, there has been no mention of it in the medical circle."
"After the last fiasco, you really think they would let anything slip if they decided to go for an encore?" Logan asked sarcastically, leaning against the door with a bottle of beer in hand.
"Not necessarily," Hank replied and looked at Logan before continuing, "but you have to understand, Logan, it's impossibly harder to hide a secret once it comes out."
He looked at the others in the room. "That is not the case here. Any more or it and I'll start pulling out my hair."
The joke at the end got a few chuckles but it did not distract them from what was slowly becoming an issue.
"How can we even be sure it's a cure, or even IF there is a cure?" Warren questioned, letting known his skepticism. He had 'strong' opinions about advertised cures. "Not to come across as an insensitive jerk," Logan scoffed, "but no one knows anything and yet somehow everyone knows there is a cure — that's what you call a hoax. We don't even know if anyone's truly been 'cured'."
Jean and Piotr frowned at that but in the end said nothing, Ororo on the other hand clearly had something to say but Logan beat her to it.
"He's not wrong ya know."
"Logan." She turned to him in surprise.
"Calm the sparks, woman," he said, knowing fully well she had more control than that. "Like it or not, the bird's got a point. Now I don't know about Metal Gear and his rock band but we have exactly zero evidence to the fact."
"That is not a reason to stop looking." Scott said as he took the bottle from Logan and took a sip. He frowned at the taste and looked at the brand before handing it back.
"I'm not saying we should." Logan half-growled as he swiped his bottle from Scott's hand while the latter looked completely unrepentant.
"Professor?" At Ororo's call, they all turned to Charles Xavier whose wheelchair sat in front of his desk. "You've been silent for a while now."
Charles sighed. "I've heard all what you've been saying."
"But?" Warren asked, causing Charles to sigh again.
"I fear it's not as simple as we thought. I'm still trying to wrap my head around it." One of his fingers was silently drumming on his armrest.
"Don't keep us in suspense, prof."
"Patience Logan." Logan snorted while Charles gave a genial smile. "And yes, as Logan has been so vocal in pointing, there is no evidence that mutants have been cured."
Logan smirked, Scott and Piotr remained impassive, while Ororo frowned softly.
"Only if he wasn't so wrong." Charles chuckled upon seeing the way the smirk drained on his face.
"Professor…"
"Charles, you're saying…"
"Yes, Henry." Charles leaned into his wheelchair. "While I do not know the people who have allegedly been cured, I, however, do know of them. Of their group to be more precise."
Postures straightened and shoulders leaned forward at Charles' admission.
"And who are they?" Scott asked.
"Let's call them an old acquaintance for now." Charles said, slowly feeling the creeping migraine that threatened to hit his skull any time he thought of how his old friend might react to them. "They are a rather reclusive gathering."
"'Gathering'?"
"They are more a community than they are a group."
Hank's brain finally finished its computing, making him blink at the realization. "Oh… them."
Charles nodded with a wry smile. "Seems you finally caught on."
The rest of the room noticed the silent exchange between both older men and were curious. They knew of many mutant groups scattered across the country but Charles' words made it clear that they did not know these people. In other words, old history.
"Are they trouble?" Jean couldn't help but ask upon seeing how both men reluctantly pranced around the topic.
Charles looked like he was having trouble with putting out the words. "No, not really. It's more complicated than that."
Hank scoffed as he adjusted his glasses. "To put it bluntly, WE will be the ones causing them trouble by having anything to do with them."
"I don't follow." Ororo's brows furrowed. Hank, who sat on the same sofa with Ororo, pressed his full weight into the furniture.
"In understating simpler words, they don't deal with other mutants. They keep to themselves. They don't ask anyone for help, or anything of the sort. They don't meddle and they don't cause trouble for others."
The entire room was listening to Hank's words as he gave them a very vague introduction into their party of interest.
"They keep religiously to it and they expect us to do the same. No matter how we flip it, we will be the ones in the wrong."
"Just for going near them?" Warren asked incredulously.
"Yeah, it's called territory. Seen lots of cases like that up south back in the day. Best thing you can ever do for them is leave them the fuck alone." Logan said as he swallowed the last drop of beer. "But I guess we can't really do that now. This is going to stink balls."
"Crass language aside, I'm afraid Logan is right on both counts." Charles' agreement smoothed out the feathers that were slowly getting rumpled. "We can't afford to do nothing or be slow to react. The last two times it happened are not lessons to be repeated."
"So what do we do?" Ororo asked. "I'm not interested in coming to odds with people that are just trying to live peacefully with themselves, but I also know that gross oversight can make this spiral into something nobody wants."
She turned to Charles. "Professor, do you have any information that we can use to track down whoever made this cure? We must know the intent behind its creation."
If it would be armed by the government —that was the real fear. Every worse thing about a mutant cure was the government's intent with it. They singlehandedly made most mutants, even the ones that once used to hope for it, hate the way existence of a mutant cure. A witch hunt had all but started before they and the Brotherhood put a stop to it back in 2005.
"A way that doesn't involve us coming to butt heads with them, I presume." Charles shook his head dejectedly. "I'm afraid not, my dear."
"He's not going to play the passive role for long y'know."
And wasn't that the truth. Warren's concern was a fact none of them could overlook. Magneto was a very patient man when he wanted to be, but he was in no way passive.
"And neither can we." Scott added. "The situation is delicate enough without anyone applying pressure. We don't even know who else is interested in this supposed cure. They have to find a way to leak out the pressure or else they'll implode."
It wasn't just them and the Brotherhood that were interested in the cure. Subtracting the long list of countries who would want this as an avenue of control, Charles could list over twenty shadowy organizations that would be interested in getting their hands on this cure, and not for anything good.
"While I agree with a lot of what you've said, I'm afraid that any choice we make will only feed escalation."
"Can we at least talk to them?" Jean asked softly.
"That is the entire point they keep trying to make: they don't want to interact with outsiders." The mutant doctor's frustration was visible through his blue fur. "This is becoming much more troublesome than it is worth."
If it was simply about a cure then they wouldn't have such striking opinions about it. Even if they personally wouldn't take it, they knew that those sentiments were not shared by every mutant.
The secrecy of the whole thing casted a bigger shadow of doubt on it.
"Hey prof, can't we get an in from your tattletale?" Logan asked.
"I'm afraid it's not something that simple, but I'll try. If nothing else I'll try to get us a heads up before anything serious goes down."
"You mean Ferro-FOMO?"
"I mean anyone who's remotely interested in this as we are." Charles looked at the old clock on the wall and clapped his hands. "I'm afraid we'll be stopping here for now. I believe my class is about to start."
With that he rolled out of his office, followed closely by Hank and Scott.
"Good news is we are no longer chasing flying ducks. The bad news is that the situation has gotten worse." Warren groaned. "We just can't seem to catch a break."
The rest of them stood up and slowly filtered out of the office with different thoughts going through their mind.
"What are you thinking about, Ororo?" Jean asked softly as she came up behind her.
"It's nothing." Ororo deflected half-heartedly. "But I guess this has been getting to me more so than I realize."
"Oh no I'm not tryi-"
"I know that's not what you meant, Jean." Ororo said softly, a small smile playing on her lips. "I guess… I'm worried."
Jean had a look of realization hit her. "About the cure. About those taking it?"
Ororo shook her head as they arrived at the general area. They both stood by the pillar as they watched some of the students relax, while some hurried to their classes.
"About the circumstances." Ororo confessed.
And with that Jean finally understood what was bothering her former teacher. "You think it's something bad, and that they are being exploited."
The fiery haired young woman sighed and leaned against the pillar. "That's what everyone is thinking, even Piotr, even if he doesn't say it. What if we are wrong? What if it's not as bad as we think? Maybe it's a good thing."
Ororo chuckled, a battered sound that was bereft of humor. "That is what we all hope for. Except that the fact that we're here shows just how far we are from 'something good'."
Jean was about to say something but stopped herself when a gaggle of students passed by and greeted them.
"Frau Jean, Frau Ororo," Kurt's greetings gave them a healthy surprise that soon had them sporting small smiles, "Guten Morgen."
"Oh?" Ororo's amusement grew. "You look to be in an ecstatic mood, Kurt."
"A good day z'all." Kurt said heartily as he joined his group of friends, still in his infectious mood.
"What is up with him?" Ororo asked with jovial curiosity.
Jean gestured to a group of girls. "I think it's because of the gift Yukio and Ellie got him. His joy was practically broadcasted throughout the mansion when he got it."
"I see. That's good." Ororo nodded. Looking at Kurt made the girls' gift and getting scolded by Logan worth it, a sentiment she was sure they shared.
She turned to Jean and saw her staring in Kurt's direction while her face gained that thoughtful look she had when something teased her attention.
"What is it?"
"I don't know." Jean said. "Where did they get that cross for him?"
"From a pawnshop in town, why? . Is something wrong with it?" Ororo's brows furrowed lightly but eased up when Jean shook her head.
"Sorry, it's nothing." Jean assured her. "Maybe the situation is getting to me after all. I think I need some relaxation time."
"Don't we all." Ororo mused. Unfortunately, their line of work rarely afforded them such luxuries.
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