Post by Pyro on Jul 4, 2006 15:29:09 GMT -5
After Jane left him in the office, John totally lost himself in his work. He scoured, printed, highlighted, stapled, hole punched, filed, picked up, stapled again, changed the toner in the laser printer, printed some more for what felt like hours.
He didn't enjoy it. He was merely doing it because it was giving him something to focus on. Professor Xavier had suggested to him once that focus was the key to getting through a difficult time. And boy, was he having a difficult time.
John was aware he had Problems. Once, they had been problems. Somewhere along the line, they'd escalated enough to warrant the capital 'P'. He'd always been a slightly odd boy, with an overactive imagination and a tendency to insomnia. Once his powers manifested, however, he often found himself losing large chunks of short-term memory after he'd been particularly stressed or anxious.
During the early weeks at Xavier's, he'd not slept. That had been common, the Professor had told him. He remembered the conversation clearly.
"Your ability to manipulate flame is psionic, John. That makes you slightly more susceptible to psychic vibrations. And there are enough psychic-ability mutants in this Institute to cause you a disturbance."
"That's great, Prof, thanks for explaining the sleepless nights, but how do I get round it?"
"I can help you, if you'll let me."
The Professor had laid the gentlest of psychic 'blankets' over the part of John's mind that was so receptive to psychic waves. It had served two purposes. First, the purpose that John knew about. It muffled - but didn't completely deaden - the echoes of psychic power that flew around the mansion like radio waves.
Secondly, it deadened what the Professor sensed as John's growing and complex psychoses. He was just a boy. There would be time to work on them later. It proved to be a fatal misjudgement on the Professor's part.
The 'blanket' had worked admirably. Even after the Professor's death, it had served its purpose. It wasn't TOTALLY effective - and there were several times when it didn't fully protect him or, for that matter, everyone else from his emotional outbursts.
It had all started to go wrong after a certain someone had laid him out flat with a well aimed headbutt.
He didn't know this, of course. He'd simply assumed that the return of the nightmares were a by-product of the horrors he'd witnessed at Alcatraz. He'd never made the connection between the woman that had been Jean Grey and the horrific monster of his nightmares that had kept him so restless at the Institute in the early days.
The blanket was slipping, exposing John's mental vulnerabilities to the cold, harsh light of day.
He didn't enjoy it. He was merely doing it because it was giving him something to focus on. Professor Xavier had suggested to him once that focus was the key to getting through a difficult time. And boy, was he having a difficult time.
John was aware he had Problems. Once, they had been problems. Somewhere along the line, they'd escalated enough to warrant the capital 'P'. He'd always been a slightly odd boy, with an overactive imagination and a tendency to insomnia. Once his powers manifested, however, he often found himself losing large chunks of short-term memory after he'd been particularly stressed or anxious.
During the early weeks at Xavier's, he'd not slept. That had been common, the Professor had told him. He remembered the conversation clearly.
"Your ability to manipulate flame is psionic, John. That makes you slightly more susceptible to psychic vibrations. And there are enough psychic-ability mutants in this Institute to cause you a disturbance."
"That's great, Prof, thanks for explaining the sleepless nights, but how do I get round it?"
"I can help you, if you'll let me."
The Professor had laid the gentlest of psychic 'blankets' over the part of John's mind that was so receptive to psychic waves. It had served two purposes. First, the purpose that John knew about. It muffled - but didn't completely deaden - the echoes of psychic power that flew around the mansion like radio waves.
Secondly, it deadened what the Professor sensed as John's growing and complex psychoses. He was just a boy. There would be time to work on them later. It proved to be a fatal misjudgement on the Professor's part.
The 'blanket' had worked admirably. Even after the Professor's death, it had served its purpose. It wasn't TOTALLY effective - and there were several times when it didn't fully protect him or, for that matter, everyone else from his emotional outbursts.
It had all started to go wrong after a certain someone had laid him out flat with a well aimed headbutt.
He didn't know this, of course. He'd simply assumed that the return of the nightmares were a by-product of the horrors he'd witnessed at Alcatraz. He'd never made the connection between the woman that had been Jean Grey and the horrific monster of his nightmares that had kept him so restless at the Institute in the early days.
The blanket was slipping, exposing John's mental vulnerabilities to the cold, harsh light of day.
