A Higher Calling (Part Three)

Debriefings were always fun, especially after people died. At least everyone was given a few days before having to give any kind of after-action report. My (and I imagined Eddie's) story was a bit different from everyone else's – more comprehensive. At least we could give them a different point of view. We told them about Stryker's church on day one, but the reminder was probably welcome. The police were probably all over that site in the hours after the battle.

So, yeah," I said, bringing my own explanation of things to an end, "I saw Jay fly off and got Eddie to catch up to him, and Saberwolf to track him. Sorry for taking Wolf. You probably could have used him sooner."

It was a rarity for this debriefing, as I was meeting with both Mister Summers and Miss Frost. Usually I only dealt with one of them at a time, even when I really screwed up. Almost never both together.

"Actually, Saberwolf being away at the start of the attack might have saved him," Mister Summers said, "Had he been here when the attack started, I believe he may have been taken offline by Stryker's weapon as well."

Something I did actually helped in the grand scheme of things, instead of making things worse? I would take that small victory. Pleasantries didn't last, however.

"Have you thought about leaving the school?" Miss Frost asked bluntly. Her stare was intense.

I didn't think too much of whatever intent was behind it. A lot of kids left. More could still go, "My parents want me to. I said no, at least not until things settle down," I told them, "...I think that'll buy me until at least the end of the semester to get them to calm down or for me to come up with a good reason to let me stay."

Both of them seemed to relax at that. Even Mister Summers, who I couldn't tell had been more tense than usual. The guy always seemed to have a stick of some sort of length up his butt.

"That's good to hear," Mister Summers said, "Honestly, we asked you here to talk about... an opportunity that we think you would be good for."

"An opportunity?" I raised an eyebrow. He wasn't good at being vague, "That sounds ominous."

Mister Summers tried to wave off my concerns, "Not at all. It's something you've been preparing for anyway, and if you apply yourself, I know you'll be a perfect fit."

I continued to stare, as he was deliberately not telling me what the fuck it was that I was supposed to be perfect for. It didn't take long for Miss Frost to lose her patience for the byplay, "Oh, for goodness sake, Scott. Stop beating around the bush and tell the poor boy what he's here for already."

Mister Summers' face twisted into a frown, which I can only imagine was accompanied by a roll of his eyes behind his visor, "We want you to lead a team of students."

It took a little while for me to catch onto what he was throwing my way, "...But I already lead a team of students," I said dumbly.

This time, Miss Frost turned on me, "Now you're just being intentionally obtuse," She said, simplifying it for me further, "A team of students hand-chosen from the training squads."

Mister Summers nodded in confirmation, "That's right. After everything that's happened, we think we've seen enough to determine which of you are fit to be X-Men. Officially."

They seemed to expect me to be excited or nervous. Instead, I started laughing... which they had not anticipated, "Alright, who said no before me?"

"No one. You're the first choice," Mister Summers said, sounding a bit confused at my reaction, "After discussing the matter with squad advisors and Dr. Garrison, Emma and I determined that out of the active student body, you're the best candidate we have."

I still wasn't convinced, "Seriously, where's the camera?" I chuckled, "Is Punk'd still a thing? Or is this some reboot rip-off with superheroes?"

Neither of them smiled, and Ashton Kutcher's bitch ass hadn't sauntered out of a side room yet to scream in my face, proving that they were serious, and sobering me up.

"...You're not going with Julian?" I asked, looking at Miss Frost pointedly.

"You're kidding, right?" She replied, shaking her head at the mere thought of it, "I love that boy, but he sees the position for its status more than for its responsibility. I've had a year to observe him. He's fine with the Hellions, but if he led this team, it would be a disaster."

Okay, that was fair enough. But I wasn't out of ammunition in my skepticism gun just yet, "What about David then? He's way smarter than me."

Mister Summers shook his head and gave me a thumbs down, "He didn't even want to lead the New Mutants. That's why leadership is split between him and Sofia. Also, intellect doesn't make for an ideal leader by itself."

"I wouldn't count you out on that front either, darling," Miss Frost interjected with a smirk, "Do remember, we've seen what you're capable of."

She thought I was smart? Since when?

"What about Ben? Or Bling!?" I kept naming other squad leaders who I figured had a better rapport with the headmaster and headmistress than I had, "How about the Cuckoos?"

As if reading my mind (which probably happened), Miss Frost negated all of my would-be alternatives, "You're an outright better candidate than Mister Hammil. You're that much better than Miss Washington as well. Aside from that, she's leaving. My girls cannot lead. Three different chains of command would be bad in the field, and if only one of them received the position, they may become less effective."

"Ego and jealousy between hive mind telepaths. Not a good thing," Mister Summers said, ignoring the glare he got from Miss Frost for insinuating such, "When it comes to practical experience, you have more of it than any other possible candidate."

Yeah, I knew that already. I was the shit. That was not what my hang-up was about, "But it's me," I said, as though that explained everything, "You hate me."

Mister Summers shrugged as though I hadn't been referring to him, "I don't hate you. Emma hates you," He said, passing the buck.

"I don't hate him, Scott!" Miss Frost snapped at her lover, only getting a sheepish grin from him. She composed herself well enough to address me directly, "I don't hate you, Mister Marcher. I... had my share of disagreements with your previous advisor. Also, you were very troublesome when you first arrived."

"I wouldn't use past-tense so hastily with that," Mister Summers muttered, before speaking up, "Does this mean you're turning down the position, Bellamy?"

Whoa, I never said that. I just didn't want to be propped up in a lame duck position. If they were legitimately backing me on this, I wasn't about to turn it down. That being said, I needed actual details, "What would you need me to do? How am I picking team members? Am I picking team members?"

Mister Summers caught on and started filling in the blanks, "I'll ask for volunteers. Anyone who agrees is in a pool. On every mission, I'll choose from the pool, depending on what the assignment requires, and you'll lead them in the field."

My mind must have spoken loud enough for Miss Frost to pick up on it when I heard 'field', "We won't be sending you to space, or into battle with groups like the ones who've attacked us. You'll be more along the lines of an extra set of hands," She explained neatly.

"This is a lot to think about." I admitted, crossing my arms and looking down at the floor in thought, "I was expecting, I don't know, whole squads being bumped up to take official missions separately."

"In a perfect world, that would happen. It still might eventually," Mister Summers said, "But the ones of you who show a particular aptitude for this need real experience. Over the last year, you've shown how much of a difference that makes. Drills and mock scenarios are well and good, but at some point-."

"-It's not the same as looking down the barrel of a gun," Emma said, an icy look in her blue eyes, "Of staring a real enemy in the face, knowing they mean to kill you."

Mister Summers sighed, as though he were feeling the gravity of what he was asking of me, and would ask of the volunteers of this pool of students, "We can't shield you from all of the things out to hurt you. Heaven knows we've seen that proven time and time again. But instead of throwing you into the fire, we want to ease you into it as best we can."

"-Them. Ease them into it," Miss Frost amended, sending a knowing look my way, "You don't really need training wheels on your bicycle, darling. We're well past that point with you."

As far as I was concerned, they'd said enough, "...Alright, I'm in," The moment I realized they weren't screwing with me and were serious, I was already sold.

"Oh, thank God," Mister Summers blurted out, pausing when he realized he'd said that out loud, "...We really didn't have anyone else equipped for the job."

Miss Frost chuckled softly, "Any other student with good enough leadership qualities lacked the personality and ability to enforce the authority that comes with the position. Any other student considered dominant enough to lead lacked the leadership qualities."

By now I was versed enough in translating the hodgepodge of adult-speak into blunter terms, "So, I'm good enough at leading to not march everyone off of a cliff, and I'm not a pussy, so if anyone has a problem with respecting my authoritah, I can deal with it without whining to a teacher."

Mister Summers didn't seem to have a problem with my profane summary of my qualities, "Yes, basically. Plus, you're familiar with most of the students we're considering. You've actually fought with most of them," Whether he meant alongside or against, I wasn't certain, "You would know how to utilize your assets in the field better than most."

That only left me with one important question at the moment, "Does this mean I'm an X-Man now?"

"Yes/No," Mister Summers and Miss Frost answered respectively. Mister Summers cleared his throat to cover the miscommunication and followed up, "Let's call it probational for now. You get new uniforms. And mission pay."

They had me at saying I was in charge, and sweetened the pot by saying I got money for doing it. I'd evolved from superhero-in-training to rookie superhero - just like a Pokémon.

...Just like a Pokémon.