7 Aftermath and After School Talk

POV Change - X-Men (3rd Person)

Ororo Munroe sighed as she finished listening to the explanation from Jean. Her blue eyes narrowed before she spoke, her tone sharp, "You tried to get into this boy's mind without his permission, then?" her question caused Jean to shrink back in shame, however, she still gave a nod in reply causing another sigh to leave the weather-controlling Mutant's mouth, "No wonder he fought you the way he did then."

The aftermath of the fight between Alex and the young Mutants was a messy one. An entire construction site left in bits and with the need for secrecy apparent in their mission, Ororo was the one who had to clean up the mess. As their guardian, that is.

The dark-skinned woman stood from her seat and lifted a hand to her face, pinching the bridge of her nose before she looked to the quiet black-haired 'daughter' of Logan, "Laura, what is your analysis of the fight?"

"...We couldn't have beaten him. No matter what we tried. Even with dozens of attempts...we'd always lose," the quiet girl answered without focus to her eyes as she just looked at the air in front of her.

Ororo's brows scrunched up as she thought how to get around this, "He obviously isn't a threat to your lives from what you've described. After all, if he wanted you dead...it seems you'd be dead," she spoke to both herself and the other three in the room with her, "But that doesn't mean he isn't a potential threat. A teenager with that much power...I hate to think what would happen if he loses his temper. Though I must say, whoever's raised him has instilled in him some wonderful morals."

"W-why'd you say that Ms. Ororo?" Jean gave a stuttered reply, slightly unsure what her teacher could man by 'wonderful morals' when Alex beat up two of Ororo's students.

Ororo looked to Jean and a smile spread across her face, "From what you've shown me, Jean, he was stronger than Piotr, quick enough to dodge multiple sneak attacks - one from Laura no less - and he seemed to be able to fly. Also, from what I saw, he wasn't even trying during your fight with him. If he didn't have a decent set of morals...I fear he could wage a war against the world singlehandedly and not even break a sweat as he crushed armies," she admitted, causing Jean to inwardly think that her teacher did have some merit in what she was thinking. Alex had power beyond what she thought was possible. He'd beaten Piotr and during tests, he'd lifted tanks and trucks with relative ease...yet he'd been thoroughly squashed by Alex.

The after effects of the adrenaline caused by he fight was beginning to wear off and Jean was beginning to realize just how strong Alex actually was.

What would she have done if he didn't acquiesced to her pleading? If he'd carried on?

...Jean found herself mentally thanking the black-haired boy for listening to her. Knowing whatever resulted from him continuing being probably as terrifying as whatever she could think up.

Oblivious to Jean's thoughts, Ororo continued speaking, "I need you all to put some light surveillance on him. Not 24/7, just keep an eye on him for any odd behavior, okay?"

"He'll sense us within a heartbeat," Laura spoke up again, her emotionless face morphing until it showed an ounce of fear at having to try and spy on the being her instincts were quickly realizing was so far above and beyond her on the food chain that she couldn't help but link the potential surveillance as already failing.

Ororo frowned when she saw the fear but smiled gently as she continued, "I'm not saying it needs to be secret, Laura. In fact, it would most likely be best if we made it clear to him that we're keeping an eye on him just to be careful. Without sounding aggressive or threatening, however - the last thing we want is another fight. One where he might not be as lenient as he was before," she grimly spoke, her smile disappearing as she paced around the room of the apartment they'd brought for all five of the young Mutants while they were here in the city.

Laura, seeming on board with the idea of not angering Alex, nodded, while Jean also gave a tentative nod. Seeing their nods, Ororo turned to the last of the young Mutants in the room, "And you, Anna, do you agree for this course of action?"

The southern teen shrugged her shoulders, "Sure...as long as I don't have to fight that guy again. I had Laura's powers at the time and my instincts screamed at me how freakishly strong that guy is...he scares the living shit out of me, Ororo. I don't even wanna be near him. He's like a living mountain of strength," her southern drawl enhanced by her fear as she really fell back on the accent she usually tried to hide.

Ororo looked at the pale teen with an apologetic look before nodding and turning to Jean, "Then can I ask you to tell him about our wariness of him, Jean?"

"Why me?" Jean lamented, acting like a normal teen for once, as she didn't want to be the one with the task while the others got to stay back and do nothing.

"Because from what you showed me he seems to like you. Or at the very least, you're the one he seems willing to put up with the most," Ororo mentioned this, obviously speaking about the conversation Jean and Alex had in his head, before the white-haired woman smiled teasingly, "And he seems genuinely interested in you. Especially after that last question and the affectionate nickname he's given you--" Ororo was cut off by a blushing Jean who'd telekinetically shut her mouth. Though this didn't stop the teasing look in Ororo's eyes which pushed the flustered Jean over the edge.

"Fine, I'll tell him, okay?! God!" she, in her embarrassment, spoke in a loud voice as she tried to mask her embarrassment before she stood up and barged out of the room like she was trying to run away from her embarrassment. Which she was, in a way.

Anna, confused, looked to Ororo, "What's...what was that about? He has a nickname for her?" she asked, prodding for some gossip.

Hearing Anna, Ororo smiled knowingly before shaking her head, "You two can leave now. Go do any homework or studying you need to do," and with that, the African beauty sat down at desk again and the two girls got up and left. One more reluctantly than the other. When they were gone, Ororo conjured up some wind, bringing it through the window and closed the open door before her face settled into a thoughtful expression, "Alex Parker...I wonder what you truly are," she thought in wonder, the images of Jean's memories playing back in her mind.

. . .

POV Change - Alex Parker

Tousling my hair with a towel, I wondered back into my room before plopping down on my bed. Falling back, I was embraced by the softness of the bed I loved. But right now I couldn't enjoy said softness...because I was thinking back to what I did.

I was in the right. They deserved to get beat down and I don't regret what I did - but rather, I regret how I did it. What I felt when I did it.

I felt exhilaration when I beat them. When I rose above and crushed their efforts beneath my heel.

It brought on a stark realization that I was truly half-alien. These sorts of feelings and urges weren't human. Not a mentally healthy human, anyway. My motivation for fighting them were selfish as well - I did fight them to punish them for what they tried to do. But a part of me was vindictive and brutal when I wanted to beat them. Those feelings weren't from a good place.

I'm no saint. God knows I won't be as good a hero as Pete will be. But I still want to be one - because what good are powers when you don't help people? I guess that's a slightly naive way of thinking, however. Power is power, no matter what it's used for.

Grunting, I sat up, rubbing my eyes before standing up and dropping the towel I had around my waist. I'd rather not think about my lacking mentality for some who wanted to be a hero, so I turned my thoughts to another thing I needed to figure out:

MJ. She seemed into me but I just...didn't like her that way. I guess it's stupid of me to reject the feelings of such a beautiful girl but that'd be horrible of me. To get with someone I didn't like, I mean. I'd just be leading her own and the relationship would eventually fail and it'd probably be a messy failure. You can't force yourself to like someone either.

Walking to my closet, I opened it and took out some casual clothes - a pair of board shorts and a tank top - before I reached into the bottom draw of the closet and taking out some underwear.

Upon getting dressed, I touched the top of my head and felt that my hair was still a bit wet.

Not feeling like drying it normally, I rapidly shook my head back and forth. Quick enough that it probably would've looked blurry for just about any normal person. And within a few seconds of this rapid maneuver, my hair was perfectly dry.

Another perk of super speed, I guess.

Walking back out my bedroom door, used towels in hand, I put them in the laundry basket before making my way to the living room. Sitting down on the sofa, I watched my uncle walk back in from the kitchen with a beer in hand. Raising an eyebrow in surprise, I spoke up to him, "A beer on a weekday? That's not like you, Ben," I said with a smile and Ben replied to the smile with his own.

"I got a bonus today. Thought I'd celebrate," he replied with a joyful laugh before sitting down next to me, "How was your first day anyway, son?" he asked and I just took a second to look at him.

If I had to compare him to anyone, I'd compare him to Jon Hamm*. He had the same general appearance, hair color and eye color and he sounded pretty much the same as him. Just a bit more New York-esque.

(*A/N - I saw this get used in another fanfic and it fits too well, so I had to use it as well.)

Images of the fight flashed through my head and I gave a somewhat forced smile, "I think it went...better than expected. Made a friend as well," my smile turned a bit more natural when I spoke about me meeting Miles. Ben seemed to see the forced-nature of my smile but he let it pass as he wasn't the helicopter-type parental figure. He was more about waiting and being there when you asked for him or when you definitely needed him, he'd step in.

"Good stuff, kid," he gave my shoulder a supportive squeeze - his version of a hug, is how I'd put it - before he turned back to the TV where there was some baseball playing, showing the New York Mets against the Boston Red Sox.

Seeing it, I rolled my eyes, "Oh, come on, Ben--We watched baseball, like, yesterday. I thought we agreed on basketball or at least football tonight," I complained though my voice lacked any real heat. But complaining about what sport to watch was kind of a tradition between my uncle and I. Pete never really cared and May was okay with whatever, so it was always a stalemate which was ended by--

"When you start paying for rent, you can decide what we watch," Ben gave me a triumphant look, chuckling as he took a sip of his beer.

Scoffing, I gave my reply almost instantly, "And I said I was perfectly fine with getting a weekend job last time you brought up this argument. But you replied with 'Don't worry about getting a job, just live like a teenager for a while'," I spoke with my own impression of his voice and cracked a smile before we both broke out laughing.

Uncle Ben ruffled my hair lovingly before he spoke, "Okay, okay, I get it, smart ass," he joked but our joking was shut off by a shout that came from the direction of the kitchen where Ben had come from with his beer.

Standing in the doorway was a royally pissed May. A person who hated swearing.

"Benjamin Parker!" she glowered over at him and Ben stopped chuckling, cringing as if he'd heard someone scratching a chalkboard with their nails.

Turning to his wife, he smiled apologetically, "Sorry, May. My bad," he laughed wryly, answering his wife who was otherwise quite lovely - except when it came to things like cursing. When it came to that, she was quite strict. Very, very strict.

Seeing his apology, her somewhat furious face flashed away like it was never there and was replaced with a smile, "Dinner's nearly done, so when I call you can one of you go get Peter?" she asked and seeing us both nod, she smiled, thanked us and then turned away and went back to cooking again.

Ben and I just looked at each other before we chuckled and went back to watching the TV.

My aunt had her quirks but we loved her and she loved us, so what could we really do about it? Nobody's perfect.

As we were watching the TV, I suddenly spoke up and I didn't even realize I had until I did.

"I got into a fight today," I said and stopped as I realized what I'd just said. But honestly...I guess it made sense why I wanted to speak to Ben about it. It's true I'm a reincarnated person but I was only 17 when I was reborn in this world, and while it's true I am older in a sense...I've never lived life passed being a teenager. I was never an adult. I never had a job, a home of my own or even a serious relationship.

I guess you could say the reason I brought up the fight to Ben was because I needed some advice, I guess. Advice on how to handle myself from now on.

Ben sighed before he put his beer down, "On the first day, Alex?" he asked and I nodded without looking at him. Seeing my nod, he continued, "I won't ask why, but I will ask if the situation really deserved to be turned into a fight. Did it?"

"Yes," I turned, looking him dead in the eye, "They deserved it."

"Okay," he said before continuing, "Then why bring it up, Alex? It's obviously eating at you, son," he countered, trying to get the full story or at least enough for him to understand.

"Because while they deserved it...I was malicious when I beat 'em," I said, looking away, unsure on whether I wanted to hear Ben's response, "I enjoyed the fight. It stopped being about getting back at them for what they did, and just fighting for the sake of enjoying to fight."

It went silent, with only the sounds of the baseball on the TV and May humming while she cooked in the kitchen, listening to some music on the radio that was always playing in there.

I dreaded the response from Ben, knowing his stance on fighting, but I was surprised when I felt Ben's hand on my shoulder, turning me back to look at him. He was smiling when I looked and he shook my shoulder a little, as if to put some energy back into me, "Hey, don't get down too much kiddo. I know how you are, and if you say they deserved it, they probably did. And if you enjoyed the fight? To let you in on a little secret," he got in a little closer, "When I was your age, I was a bit of a brawler myself. Fighting for the sake of fighting, getting in trouble and fighting some more. So I know how you feel," he shrugged before going back to his original position on the sofa, "The trick is, Alex, to not let yourself get lost in that enjoyment. It doesn't make you a bad person to enjoy fighting - plenty of people enjoy it - it makes you a bad person to take it too far and indulge in it. You understand what I'm getting at, son?"

Hearing him, I nodded, a smile growing across my face as I felt some weight get lifted off my shoulders. I guess I was feeling like a bad person because I enjoyed the violence of beating those guys up...but that doesn't mean I am a bad guy. I didn't take it too far, nor was I excessively cruel when I did what I did.

Definitely feeling better about myself and what happened earlier, Ben spoke up again, "You didn't kill anyone though, did you?" he asked, obviously joking and I chuckled in replying before shaking my head.

"No, there was no killing. No hospital visits either," I said, clearing up any worry he might've had.

He messed with my hair once again before May called from the kitchen, "Dinner's ready, get in here before it cools down too much!"

Both of us stood up in a flash, well aware of how good May's cooking was, but I turned to the hallway and walked down it, as I had to go and get my sick cousin and escort him to dinner.

...I'm glad I talked to Ben. Helped put things in perspective.

It's okay to enjoy the fighting, just don't take it too far. Don't do something you'll regret. Even so, this doesn't mean I regret what I did earlier today or that I'll refrain from doing it again if the situation truly calls for it. What it does mean is that I'll try and keep a cooler head in the future and try to keep a leash on my instincts.

And so, with a pep in my step, I opened the door to Pete's room where he was sprawled across his bed, sleeping.

Walking over to Pete, I bent over and brought up a hand. I then proceeded to flick him across the forehead, "Get up, Aunt May's dinner is waiting for us and if you make me wait a single second longer, I'll pour a bucket of water on you."

Pete's eyes snapped open and stayed open.