Chapter 4 - My Thoughts Were So Loud

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***GWEN***


"Okay, Peter," I say, walking over to a bookshelf and letting my eyes rove over its contents. "You know more about comic-book movies than I do. Who the hell are these clowns?"

"X-Men," Peter says. "X for Xavier." I turn to see him lift the nameplate off the desk for a moment. "These guys are all mutants with their own weird powers."

"Like the Maximoffs?" I ask.

"Uh...yeah, they'd fit pretty nicely here, I think," Peter says.

"Or us," I add.

Peter nods, biting his thumb. "Hmm. Yeah, I guess you could say we're mutants - but I think most of these guys were born with their powers. Or they activated during puberty or something like that. But not us - our mutations were created."

This brings up an interesting possibility - do the twins not work with the X-Men because they were also not born mutants? It's possible - we don't know anything about their past.

"You're on the right track," says a deep, English-accented male voice. "Neither of the Maximoff twins were born mutants. But their father was one of us - one to whom I owe quite a debt of gratitude which, sadly, I can never repay."

I turn around, as does Peter, and we see an old, bald-headed man sitting in a wheelchair. The chair rolls through the door - its motor is whisper-silent, which is why we didn't hear him come in. Behind him are three people. Kitty Pryde is one of them. The second is the telekinetic boy - Billy, I think his name was - who helped us out in Washington. The third, a handsome blue-eyed man in his thirties, is a complete stranger to me. I look at Peter, wondering if he knows who this guy is. As if he senses my thoughts, he responds by shaking his head.

"I'm Charles Xavier," the old man says. It seems a bit unnecessary - the nameplate on his desk, as well as the "X" pattern in the wheels on his chair, are pretty clear clues to his identity. Not that it matters, though - other than what Peter's just said, I still don't know anything about who these X-Men are, or what they do.

Xavier holds out his hand. Unlike with Kitty, Peter and I don't fail to shake it. He then wheels behind his desk and gestures to the other three one by one. "Kitty, I believe you've already met. The same goes for young Billy. But you don't know Bobby yet, do you?"

The guy with blue eyes waves hello. "Bobby Drake," he says. "Around here, though, they call me Iceman."

"'Cause it's an ironic nickname for such a friendly guy as you?" Peter asks.

"Do I really have to explain it?" Bobby laughs. He snaps his fingers, and a small flurry of ice floats into the air from his hand, Jack Frost-style.

"Yes, now you remember who he is, don't you?" Xavier says to Peter.

"Does this have something to do with that creepy parallel universe thing?" asks Billy.

"Remember," Xavier says, folding his hands on the desk, "in that parallel universe, Peter and Gwen, along with the teenage Avengers, were led to believe that their adventures were nothing more than fictional films."

I look from one X-Man (or, more accurately, X-Person) to another. "So you guys already know all about us?"

"We've been following your adventures for quite a while," says Xavier.

"Or, more accurately, he's been following your adventures," says Kitty brightly. "But he reports all his findings to us. So, yeah, we've learned all about you guys."

"Not all," Xavier says, a smile crossing his face for a brief flash of time. "For instance, I was never able to keep track of you before, Gwen. That is because until earlier today, you were an ordinary human, as opposed to a mutate."

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