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Title: The New Mutants, Epilogue
Author: kanedax
Fandom: X-Men Movieverse
Spoilers: X3; The New Mutants, volumes I-XXI
Rating: PG
Pairings: Bobby/Kitty, Theresa/Remy, Moira/Sean if you squint
Summary: A new year begins again
Notes: This is the epilogue to The New Mutants. Enough said.
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Ororo.
Ororo Munroe jerked in the leather chair, the voice from the intercom interrupting her trailing thoughts.
The students are all gathered, Ororo.
“Thank you, Professor,” Ororo replied. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
The voice laughed quietly. Professor, it said. That’s a name I’m still going to have to get used to.
“See you in a few,” Ororo replied, and pushed the chair back from the desk. Standing, she gave one last look around the office that had once belonged to Charles Xavier. At the motorized wheelchair, the X crossed through the wheels, that had once belonged to Charles Xavier.
The chair, much like the stone memorial on the front lawn, was left as a lasting reminder of the Academy’s founder. It now belonged to no one. Or to everyone, depending on your view of things.
She smoothed the silver dress that she wore, a dress much more formal than she was used to (she was always a pants and blouse kinda girl), and walked out into the hallway and out the back door to meet who was left, old and new.
Warmth bathed down on her as she stepped into the sun. All around upstate New York, it was a gray, dreary day, with occasional drizzles and one or two downpours. Nothing horrific, just your typical spring weather. But here at Xavier Academy, where the headmistress could control the weather on a whim, it was a beautiful day, with a sky a deep blue, and the occasional puff of cloud keeping the sun from being too unbearable.
She turned the corner around the hedge to join the crowd that had gathered on the lawn. A small stage had been set, with a podium in the middle, and four occupied seats facing rows of white chairs.
Many of the seats were filled, but far too many were empty. Still, she thought, a higher turnout than this time last year. That’s good, at least. People are starting to come back.
From her position she was able to get a full view of the area, and was able to recognize most of the students, as she had been the one to meet many of them. To tell them about their gifts.
Many students she had already known for years. Many she had joined in combat. There sat Kitty Pryde and Bobby Drake, chatting happily with each other. They’ll have been dating for a year soon, Storm said, shaking her head. Amazing. And the girl next to them doesn’t seem to mind one bit.
Marie D’Ancanto and Peter Rasputin sat next to the couple, sitting in a circle with Jimmy Cameron, Lucas Bishop, Connor Jones and Jono Starsmore. At this time last year, the four could all say that they were regular humans while Jimmy sat by them, but he now in control of his power enough where he could only depower them through contact, if he wanted to.
She lifted her head slightly, trying to see what they were looking at. It was a magazine. Rolling Stone, it looked like. The cover was emblazoned with a photo of Alison Blaire. The photographers must have decided that it would probably sell more magazines if they “sexed her up” a bit, and they had dressed her in what appeared to be a leather bikini and not much else.
She could try to read the headline if she could, but she didn’t have to. Alison had mailed her an autographed copy days ago, and it was now framed and hung on her office wall. PUNK SUPERIOR, it read, with the subheading AN EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW WITH AMERICA’S FIRST MUTANT SUPERSTAR.
Good for her, she thought once again. Not exactly Frank Sinatra, but we have to start somewhere, as her field of vision continued to move over the lawn, her eyes settling upon two of the newest members of the academy.
Looking at the two, you would never have to be told they were twins. Even though they were brother and sister, Paige and Sam Guthrie shared the same light blonde hair and look of awe as they stared up at the Academy. Coming from a coal mining town in Kentucky, she thought, there’s a good chance they’ve never seen something like this before.
Sitting next to the Guthries was another blonde boy, with quite the opposite reaction. Growing up in the shadow of a world-famous scientist, Franklin Richards had probably seen more by the time he was five than Sam and Paige had seen their entire lives. He had a look of boredom on his face, as though he would rather be anywhere else.
Hopefully he’s not too much trouble, Ororo thought. Dr. Richards and his wife insisted that he come here. They’re very strong advocates in the mutant community, and they want to see that he gets the proper training.
His powers had recently manifested and, to the surprise of many, he learned he was a telepath and a telekinetic.
So the Phoenix only killed the mutants with activated psychic powers, she thought. They’ll all come back as more young mutants mature and discover who they are.
She continued looking across the lawn, discovering the final two new students at the Academy. She shook her head, realizing that they were already displaying what was sure to be a constant issue.
Shiro Yoshida, a slightly overweight young man from Japan, was speaking with Cecelia Reyes, hailing from Brazil. And neither one of them could speak a lick of English.
Should be interesting, she thought. Ororo took a breath, preparing to speak, but it stopped short as she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. There were two others; not in the seats but sitting under one of the trees, well in the shadows. Now that she could see them, she recognized what was sitting between them.
“Remy? Theresa?” she called, and the two looked up from their chess game. “We’re starting.” Theresa Cassidy smiled, lightly tapped Remy LeBeau on the shoulder, and the two stood up, walking hand-in-hand across the lawn to the seats.
“All right, then,” she sighed, “Here we go.”
“Welcome, everyone,” she said aloud, “To Xavier Academy. My name is Professor Ororo Munroe, headmistress and director. The goal of the Academy, as set out by its founder and namesake, Professor Charles Xavier, is not only to educate you in life, but to also help you control and optimize your God-given gifts.”
“Gifts, yeah, right,” she heard a small voice snort from the group. She caught Franklin’s head shake, but decided not to pay attention at this time. The tough part of her speech was coming up.
“The past year has been one of the most difficult in this Academy’s history, and quite possibly for the history of mutantkind,” she continued. “Many lives have been lost. Friends, colleagues, and loved ones.”
Her eyes couldn’t help but travel to the granite memorial positioned next to that of Professor Charles Xavier. On it was etched the names of those at the Academy who had fallen in the past year. Many, like Professor Frost, Arthur Centino, and Artie Maddicks, were also on the memorial that had been built in Washington, DC, honoring those who had fallen in what was being called the Great Pulse.
However, there were others. Jubilation Lee. Alex Blanding. Clarice Ferguson. Even Erik Lehnsherr and Lorna Maximoff were recognized as friends of the Academy. This stone tablet was the only memorial that these mutants would have.
She looked out on the students, saw the faces of Theresa Cassidy, Remy LeBeau, and Lucas Bishop, among many others, and corrected herself. They will always be remembered, she thought. Stone only tells half of the story.
“From the Great Pulse to the re-activation of mutant powers after the Cure,” she continued, “More mutants are still being persecuted for their gifts. Still hiding in fear. Because of this, I will still be continuing my journey around the world, finding mutants who need our help, to come to the Academy.
“In the meantime, your education is safe in the hands of these men and women behind me. They’ve been around the block in the world. They know their stuff.”
She turned around. Sean Cassidy nodded in approval. Dr. Moira McTaggert, recently returned from her work in Europe, patted him on the knee. Forge glanced over at Kurt Wagner, the Academy’s newest Professor of Arts and Languages. He smiled shyly, not used to receiving this much praise.
“There is much hardship in the world,” she said, turning back to the students. “But there is reason to hope. America has its first mutant Ambassador to the United Nations. We have more mutant senators than ever before. And, hey, we got a mutant on the cover of Rolling Stone, and that ain’t that bad.”
Quiet laughter rolled through the group, and Theresa clapped her hands and whistled.
“And if danger should arise,” she continued, “We have also learned in the past year to put trust in each other. To put faith in each other. We as an Academy have been through much, and we’ve come out of it stronger than ever before.”
Her eyes fell upon the X-Men. Iceman. Shadowcat. Colossus. Rogue. The newest members in Bishop, Siryn, Leech, Gambit, Glitch, and Chamber. Ororo Munroe smiled, then turned to the newest class.
“Welcome to Xavier Academy.”
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