Songbird
“I’m not special. Not like her.”
“You’re not,” he said quickly, definitively.
“You’re special like you.”
Chapter 1
“Mom, we’ve been over this.”
You exhaled for what felt like the millionth time when, in reality, you’ve only been on the phone with your mother for maybe twenty minutes.
“I’m just saying, honey, New York? You’ve lived a lot of places— dreamed about living a lot of places, and New York has never been on either of those lists,” she continued. “And it’s so far away…”
You could hear the irritation in her voice, but, even moreso, the sadness.
You rubbed at your face and threw your head back in silent frustration before proceeding with as much empathy and understanding as you could muster.
“Look, Mom, I know it isn’t ideal, but this will be really good for Maevis. I’ve done the research, I’ve saved the money, I’ve almost packed everything up– alone, as a single mother, might I add,” you sprinkled in that last part for comedic relief.
Based on her silence, it didn't quite land.
“It’s what’s best for her,” you concluded gently.
You could practically hear the gears turning in her head over the phone.
“I’m not saying I don’t want the absolute best for my grandbaby, but, come on. She’s barely five years old! Can’t the fancy, expensive, oh-so-far-away-from-your-family boarding schools wait until she’s at least in the double digits?”
That made you giggle, but you stood your ground. “This will be good for her, I promise. You’ll see.”
Your mind began to wander as you packed the last box in you and your daughter’s small apartment.
The truth is, your mother wouldn’t see-- not the real ways this new school would really be helping her granddaughter, anyway.
See, you hadn’t actually done any research, and this wasn’t costing you anything, thank goodness, at least as far as tuition is concerned. In fact, you hadn’t heard of this school at all before Charles Xavier had found you.
Before he’d found Maevis.
She was so young.
She was so young and what you knew about mutants was so scarce.
At first, it was easy to dismiss the early signs. To rationalize the flickering lights during bedtime temper tantrums. To convince yourself that it was certainly within the realm of her physical capabilities to throw a sippy cup at that velocity and distance after you had denied her another cookie. That was the only explanation as to how it could have ended up all the way across the kitchen in tiny, plastic shards…
Right?
It wasn’t until the last couple of months that you’d finally admitted to yourself that Maevis’ behavior was something different.
Something special.
The times between her outbursts were growing shorter, and the destruction that took place during, becoming more profound.
You scolding her in the car turned into blinking, dysfunctional traffic lights. Telling her she couldn’t buy a toy at the store resulted in entire product displays toppling over. There were only so many times you could apologize to the store clerks for “being clumsy.”
Then there were the more peculiar things, the things you knew there were no logical explanation for– the times you could not only perceive Maevis’ emotions, but could physically feel them.
When she’d fallen off of her bike and you hurried to scoop her scared, crying frame, you swore you’d felt that scrape on your knee, too.
Or when you caught her trying to hide the potted plant she’d accidentally knocked over and reached for you in apology, it was her shame that coursed through your body.
It wasn’t normal. None of it was.
And that didn't matter to you because what was “normal,” anyway?
Your daughter was special.
But, even so, you couldn’t deny the fact that whatever was happening with Maevis was intensifying, and quickly, and you couldn’t ignore the fact that she could hurt someone else or herself.
You had to do something, you just didn’t know what.
That’s why when Professor Charles Xavier showed up at your doorstep that day, with that gorgeous, regal woman you’d come to know as Dr. Jean Grey, you knew in your bones there was no other option.
You hadn’t explained any of this to your mother, of course. How could you when you didn’t even understand it yourself? You would wait until you and Maevis were settled, until there was some semblance of understanding and control and routine and—
“Fine.” You startled at the sound of your mother’s voice, her words cutting your trip down memory lane rather short.
“I trust you. I’m just going to miss my girls, that’s all.”
“We’re gonna miss you, too, Mom,” you assured her. You really did understand her concern.
“But you can visit as much as you like, you know. Phoenix and New York City have some pretty accessible airports,” you joke nervously.
“Just, like, when we’re all settled in and I’m comfortable in my new classroom and all that,” you add a little too quickly.
You really did want her to visit, just… maybe not anytime soon.
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“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you mumble under your breath as you approach the ancient, but, admittedly, beautiful stone building.
Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters
You giggled at the school’s name, propping your daughter a little higher on your hip. “Well, Maeve, you are a ‘youngster,’ that’s for sure.”
And she was.
In fact, according to Professor Xavier, she would the youngest student the school has had in… well, ever.
You recall your first conversation the two of you ever had.
You were in somewhat of a haze, trying to process all of the information the two strangers had just provided you with.
You had heard about mutants, of course, anyone with a television or ears had. But you’d never considered that you’d given birth to one.
At least, not until now.
“I- I really appreciate what you’re trying to do here, Professor Xavier, but I-” you started, but honestly didn’t know where the sentence was going to end.
“Charles,” he corrected warmly. You tried your best to appear polite and collected as you continued to respond.
“Right, yes. Charles.” It sounded a bit strange addressing him so informally, especially after only having known him for, what? Maybe an hour?
“Again, I really appreciate this— Maevis and I both do, and I know shecould use the guidance, I just… I mean, do you even have a kindergarten at this school of yours?”
You understood how important it was for your daughter to receive guidance on her mutation; it wasn’t something you or any other neurotypical facility could offer her.
But the teacher in you– the mother in you– couldn’t help but wonder about her academic and social development. She needed to be around kids her age, learning the same things they were.
Mutation or not, that was important, too, right?
“Of course it’s important, dear.”
You startled at the sound of Professor Xavier’s voice.
You didn’t say that out loud, did you?
With furrowed eyebrows, you started, “I’m sorry, did I-”
He only chuckled at your confusion. “No, you didn’t say that out loud. Reading the minds of others is one of my mutations,” the Professor explained, except you were watching his face the entire time and his mouth didn’t move a muscle.
Your eyebrows shot up in– what? Disbelief? Offense?
“I do apologize,” he started.
All you could do was blink at the man decidedly not talking to you.
“I try not to make a habit of reading the thoughts of those around me without their consent.”
You nodded skeptically as he continued and added half-heartedly, “and what about talking inside of their heads? Do you make a habit out of that?”
He found your sense of humor in what he considered to be a very heavy, very tricky situation, endearing.
“I do not,” he chuckled and continued, actually speaking this time. “But you’re right. Her academic and social development are just as important as refining her gift. And although she is the youngest student the academy will have ever enrolled, I can promise you we have the means to provide the resources that any child of her age could possibly require.”
He seemed so sure, so confident in this proposition.
You wish you could say the same about yourself.
He slowly inched closer to you before speaking again.
“I understand your apprehension, but, surely, we can’t send her off to school down the street where she’ll be telekinetically tossing toys off of shelves in the classroom, or forcing her emotions onto every peer she so much as disagrees with on the playground,” Charles waved his hands in slight amusement.
You chewed your lip anxiously as you considered this.
You knew he was right.
But he said she was the youngest mutant to ever be offered enrollment at his school– the youngest mutant he, or anyone, has ever heard of manifesting their powers so early, period. If there weren’t any kids her own age at school, would she ever be able to be around normal kids her own age without risking hurting them?
Without risking hurting herself?
Your heart sank at the true fear that had been festering deep within you since Maevis’ very first display of power.
Would she ever feel normal if you did this?
Would she ever feel normal at all?
You could feel your heart racing at the thought of all of this going painfully south.
“She will be able to be around kids her own age,” the Professor said, once again, snapping you out of your anxious spiraling.
“Think of this as…” he looked around the room, trying to come up with the words to convince you, “ a specialized homeschooling program. Dr. Grey and Ms. Munroe will teach her everything she needs to know, including that of a typical kindergarten academic curriculum, and as soon as she’s ready, we’ll make sure she is able to join her peers out there.” He motioned to the window displaying the outside of your apartment building as he said this, but his words implied a space much vaster.
You churned in consideration, but didn’t speak just yet.
“It’s what is safest for everyone. It’s what is safest for Maevis,” Professor Xavier emphasized.
You continued to bite your lip, glancing behind Professor Xavier at Dr. Grey, who only sat quietly with a look of never-ending patience upon her face.
Her demeanor is what finally had you nodding in agreement.
“Plus," the Professor added, "you’ll be at the academy, teaching just a few halls down. You’ll be there every step of the way.”
He’s right. This is what’s safest for everyone. For Maevis.
It’s what’s best for Maevis.
“Okay,” you said simply.
Both Professor Xavier and Dr. Grey smiled, and the genuine relief and joy you saw in their faces sort of made your chest ache.
“This is what’s best for Maevis,” you repeated in your head.
“But,” you added, gaining the shocked attention of your guests, “ if we do this, please, ‘try not to read my mind without my consent’ anymore,” you quipped, only half joking.
The Professor chuckled at that.
“Of course, dear.”
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“Oh, it is so good to see you again!” Dr. Grey said earnestly, squeezing your shoulder in a way that made you feel slightly more at ease.
She turned to Maevis.
“And it’s good to see you again, too, you gorgeous girl.”
She clung to you rather tightly, but she still greeted Dr. Grey warmly, reaching for her face.
You panicked suddenly, not wanting Jean to be overwhelmed with whatever rollercoaster of emotions Maevis might be feeling right now.
It wasn’t a constant transfer of energy, but it was a powerful one.
“Oh, no, sweetie, remember, we can’t touch people’s bodies without asking them,” you gently remind her. She retracted her hand sadly, but you reassured her.
“It’s okay, Maev. But remember boundaries? We just have to be careful,” you tell her softly, nudging your nose gently against hers.
“Oh, yeah,” she said, almost ashamedly. “I’m sorry.”
Dr. Grey was watching the entire interaction affectionately. “That’s okay, Maevis,” she said. “Your mother is right,” she continued, looking between the two of you. “It is important to remember people’s boundaries, especially your own. You should always ask before you enter someone’s personal space.”
Maevis only nodded shyly in agreement.
“But,” Dr. Grey added, “if it’s okay with you, and your mother, I would like for you to tell me hello again– the way you were going to.”
Both Dr. Grey and Maevis were looking to you for approval now. “Oh. I mean…” You were nervous and you couldn’t pinpoint why. This is what you were here for– what Maevis was here for, right?
“I mean, of course,” you said. “As long as you’re comfortable with it, Maev,” you looked at her, waiting.
Maevis looked between the two of you before speaking. “I’m comfortable,” she said, reaching for Dr. Grey’s face again. “I can show you my feelings.”
You smiled. Something about her referring to this part of her mutation as “showing her feelings” always felt so innocent. So delicate. Like there was no part of this that was dangerous or unmanageable.
Of course, that wasn’t reality.
As soon as Maevis’ hand touched Dr. Grey’s face, it was like she was somewhere else– lost in her mind.
Or, rather, Maevis’ mind.
A small smile spread across her face as she gripped the tiny hand that was touching her cheek a little tighter.
Finally, Maevis retracted.
“Incredible,” Dr. Grey said, breathless. “You are a very special person, Maevis.”
Your daughter only smiled and nuzzled into your neck.
“She is,” you agreed, smiling.
“And we here at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters are thrilled to, not only have her as a pupil, but to have her remarkable mother teaching at the institute as well.”
You turned around to follow Dr. Grey’s gaze, not surprised to see Professor Xavier gliding across the large foyer to greet you.
You smiled, “Hello, Professor. Say hello, Maevis,” you say, waving your hand in example.
“Hi, Charles,” you daughter smiled and did the same. Professor Xavier returned the gesture before adding, “At least one of you remembered to call me Charles,” he said.
You both chuckled at that before he continued.
“We are so happy you’re here with us, dear,” he said with that same genuineness he had at your first meeting.
Before you could respond, assuring him that you were just as happy to be here, he continued.
“There are some people I’d like you to meet.”
You almost didn’t notice the two people next to him, which was shocking, considering one of them was the most breathtaking woman– all dark skin, crystal eyes, and hair white as snow, and the other is probably the largest man you’ve ever seen in person.
“What a hot couple,” you think to yourself.
The gorgeous woman extends her hand, an unsurprisingly perfect smile aimed directly at you.
“Hey, there. I’m Ororo Munroe, but the kids like to call me Storm. I’ll be Maevis’ primary educator during her time here at the academy.”
You shake her hand and introduce yourself before she turns her attention to the little girl in your arms.
“And you must be the lady of the hour, “ Ms. Munroe says to Maevis brightly. “I am so happy to meet you, sweetie. I’ll be your new teacher.”
Maevis is anything but reserved, so she takes to her almost immediately.
You wondered if it’s her extroverted nature that makes all of this go smoothly, or if there’s some unspoken tether that mutants feel between one another.
That would make sense, especially in an evolutionary regard. It could be why Maevis has been so inexplicably drawn to Dr. Grey since meeting her.
You try to ignore the unexpected twinge you feel in your stomach at that thought.
You’re pulled out of this strange line of thinking at the sound of the tree trunk of a man now speaking.
“I’m Logan.”
He doesn’t extend a hand.
In fact, he doesn’t make a move to do or say anything more, and you kind of just stand there expectantly.
You figured, if he’s as friendly as everyone else you’ve met so far, he might throw in a, “nice to meet you”?
A school title?
A cool, somewhat unnecessary superhero nickname?
As if reading your mind, he adds, “Logan’s fine.”
You scrunch your eyebrows in realization.
“Wait, can you read minds, too?” you ask.
Storm, Charles, and Jean all laugh, but Logan only half-smiles.
“No, he’s just a smartass,” Ms. Munroe chides, then immediately covers her mouth, eyes darting between you and Maevis.
“I am so sorry. Oh my gosh, little ears! I haven’t been around a child this young in… well, like, ever. Shit, I’m sorry.”
Her eyes go even wider somehow and she smacks herself in the forehead.
“Oh my god, I’m sorry! I truly didn’t even realize I cursed this much,” she all but screams, then turns to her friends. “How come none of you told me I had such a potty mouth?!”
You’re full on giggling now as you reach with your free had to give her arm a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay! Seriously, it’s okay. I don’t always have the most restraint around her, either, and I’m her mother. Unfortunately, she has heard worse,” you laugh and feel relieved when the Professor, Dr. Grey, and Ms. Munroe all laugh alongside you and don’t give you that stuffy, judgey look that most people do when you accidentally (or not so accidentally) curse around your daughter.
You all chat for a few more minutes, everyone’s excitement becoming more apparent.
Well, almost everyone.
Logan seemed uninterested, to say the least. This didn’t necessarily bother you, though; you understood that not everyone is experienced with or comfortable around children. You weren’t going to fault him for that if that were the case.
It just confused you more than anything.
Ms. Munroe would be leading Maev’s academics, Dr. Grey would be her mentoring her in her mutation, Professor Xavier had sought the two of you out and was acting Dean of the school— everyone had their purpose, so it seemed.
So what was Logan’s?
“I’m here to help you get settled in.”
You blinked in surprise.
How did he do that?
“You’re really not reading my mind?” you ask, skeptically.
He almost laughed at that.
“Doesn’t take a telepath to recognize a confused stare,” he replied.
He voice was gruff, but his tone was light.
That didn’t stop your face from heating up with embarrassment, though.
Were you really staring?
“Logan teaches history in the classroom adjacent to yours,” Professor Xavier added.
“A perfect fit, considering he was alive for most of it,” Dr. Grey prodded, nudging Logan slightly in the ribs.
He scoffed while everyone else chuckled and looked down at her with a soft smile.
The way she was gazing up at him made you think maybe he and Ms. Munroe were, in fact, not the hot couple in this equation.
“Your and Maevis’ new living quarters are also located in the same wing of the mansion as his. I figured it was most logical for him to help you get adjusted, “ Charles finished.
“That, and his welcoming personality,” Ms. Munroe added, faux excitement absolutely dripping with sarcasm, clapping Logan on the shoulder in jest.
You smiled, admiring the relationship between the four of them, affectionate and comfortable.
Even Logan in his own reserved, somewhat brooding way.
Although their histories, both individual and relational, were unclear to you, they were a family, you could see that.
Anyone could.
Dr. Grey suddenly made a surprised sound.
“Oh, shoot!” she said, collecting herself. “I have session with a student in less than five minutes— I should get going.”
You mouthed a wordless, “oh,” in understanding, adjusting Maevis to rest on your other hip.
Goodness, she’s getting so big.
Turning to the two of you, she continues, “Again, we are so happy to have you. All of this is just such a gift,” she says with that sincere tone that makes you want to burst into tears.
She murmurs her goodbye to the others, walking away, lightly squeezing Logan’s abnormally large bicep on the way.
“Professor, we should really get going, too if we’re going to make it to New Student Orientation on time, “ says Ms. Munroe.
“Ah, yes,” Professor Xavier agrees, repositioning his chair. “Well, dear, I hope you enjoy getting acquainted with the mansion. And please let me know if you or Maevis need anything at all.”
He turns to look at Logan, the two of them locking eyes momentarily as if having a fleeting, silent conversation of their own.
Which, you now realize, is totally possible.
As the Professor fades into the distance of the ever-growing hallway, you feel a stiff, awkward tension begin to form between you and Logan.
He isn’t nearly as welcoming or chatty as the others, and you know yourself. If you sit in this uncomfortable silence for too long, you’re going to start rambling and its going to be painful for everyone.
“I can show you your room,” Logan interrupts your self-deprecating line of thinking, grabbing the suitcase at your side and starting off without so much as a word to you or Maev.
You pucker your lips in submission.
“Cool. Right behind you,” you mutter a little sarcastically.
Maevis giggles and mimics you a little louder: “Cool! Right behind you!”
You can’t help but laugh with her as you follow Logan down the long hall, up the winding stairs, and into your new life.
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This is my first marvel fanfiction! It's definitely going to be a series, I just don't know how long yet. Ahh, hope you like it so far.
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