Learning to Be

Posted on Mon Jun 8th, 2026 @ 7:37am by Jean Grey-Summers & Josiah Martin

3,383 words; about a 17 minute read

Mission: Episode 8: Shadows Over Avalon
Location: X-Mansion
Timeline: March 19, 1992

“All right, your health check is finished.” Dr. Reyes said to Joey as she turned her back towards him with a dismissive wave of her hand. Despite being a good doctor, Cecilia had an absolutely terrible bedside manner. It was probably the reason why she was working for the government before Xavier provided her with sanctuary. “I’ll put it in your records and you’ll be free to use the Danger Room at higher levels starting tomorrow.”

There was a long uncomfortable pause before Dr. Reyes finally looked at him again. “Go on.”

It took another couple of seconds for Dr. Reyes' words to register with the teenager, who was lost in his own thoughts, mentally rereading the letter his parents had sent and going over the things that had happened over the last few weeks at the mansion. He managed to pull himself together enough to move towards the exit. "Thanks, Doc. Just what I always wanted, medical permission to play with killer robots trying to murder me," he joked half-heartedly as he moved towards the door. "Although I guess the killer robots at least don't bleed goop and turn to dust when they get destroyed, or suck blood and make thralls, so maybe that's progress," he added.

“The Danger Room can if you want it to…”Cecilia remarked, not entirely sure what Joey was getting on about.

As Joey left the medical ward, he had talked himself into looking for Mrs Grey-Summers to talk to. Really, he was not sure who else to approach. Desmond might have worked, but he was fairly certain they hadn't known each other long enough yet to have this kind of conversation. He supposed Alaric would probably try to be helpful, but he doubted the man had the frame of reference to help with things like school, religion and being a teenager on Earth. What little he had seen of Mr Logan, turning to him for advice would not go well. That left the headmistress, and, he supposed, she had shown she at least attempted to take things seriously. Now he just had to find her, although he supposed if he just thought loud enough, she would find him. He chuckled briefly at that thought and tried just that, "Mrs Grey-Summers? Paging the headmistress if she isn't busy," he said a few times mentally.

Joey didn’t have to look far, the door to the room of stasis pods was open and was illuminated by the eerie glow of cosmic fire that burned without burning.

~* ‘I’m inside Joey, please join me.’ *~ Jean’s voice passed through his mind as she beckoned him to enter the stasis room. It wasn’t a location any of them really dared to explore as the frozen, sleeping figures of those lost to the legacy virus loomed all around. Fallen X-men locked in high-tech pods that managed to defy the inevitable, the space felt more like a tomb than a medical facility.

As he entered, the phoenix made of fire observed him from its perched position up high. Its eyeless head tracked him like a vulture in a tree as he walked. Whatever the bird's intentions were, they never felt friendly or welcoming.

“Hi, Joey.” Jean said from the back of the room, she stood next to the pod that held a man wearing a ruby lensed visor, a face that was frequently seen in photos scattered across the mansion. “You were looking for me?”

Joey stepped into the room and suppressed an involuntary shudder at the feel of the room. He avoided the stasis room, as a rule, whenever possible. The entire room felt fundamentally wrong to his senses. Its guardian echoed in his head loudly, and in a completely different way from anything else he had ever encountered. Alive in a way no animal felt, but also with the cold undercurrent he felt in dead animals, and something more even. It was disconcerting. He felt the same about the occupants of the stasis pods. The way they were suspended, not really alive but not quite yet dead gave him a headache if he tried to focus on it. He shook it off as he walked over to Jean. He had never asked her directly, but it did not take a rocket scientist to figure out who was in the pod.

"I was," he said. "I got some mail and needed to talk, but I can find another time if you'd like to be alone," he added scuffing his feat a bit. "I don't want to intrude."

“No, you’re not intruding - none of you are ever unwelcomed. When I say my door is always open, I mean it. I struggle with my own challenges but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be there for you. There is nothing I want more than to make sure you are alright. We are stronger together.” Jean placed a hand on the glass door of the pod that held Scott, a gentle touch as if to say goodbye to him for the time being. She looked over at Joey and felt the discomfort that rippled through him from being in this room. Most people felt like him, that this space felt like death, but to Jean it felt like home.

“Come on, let’s head upstairs and maybe make some lunch?” Jean proposed as she took a step away from the stasis pods and towards Joey and the open door behind him. The fire bird that had loomed overhead took flight and for a single moment it was glorious and beautiful as it glided through the air, the flames of its body and tail shimmered and danced in soft, warm light before the phoenix disappeared back into whatever astral plane it resided in.

Jean looked up at the bird and smiled, whatever unease Joey felt about it she seemed to lack. Then again, Jean was kind and gentle and seeing her uneasy or cruel to anything felt wrong. As they left the stasis room, its doors automatically closed behind them with soft swish before the sound of an audible lock shut the doors up tightly.

Out in the hallway, free from the haunting figures, everything felt lighter and brighter. It was easier to discuss Joey’s personal concerns now that the ghosts of the past were gone.

“So tell me about this letter,” Jean said as she reached out and pushed the button to call the elevator to them. “I assume it’s a rather important one.”

Joey sighed as the weight of the room left his senses. "Sorry, the stasis room gives me a headache," he said buying a few seconds. "It's about the summer and next year," he started. "I've spent every summer I can remember in the Canyon," he said, his tone giving the capitalisation to the name. "The last couple of years I've been formally working and learning the job. I knew exactly what was what. But my parents are saying maybe I should stay here this summer and try to take classes to catch up with 'college-bound' folk." He shrugged. "Like we all know in Bitter Springs ain't no one good enough for that but maybe it isn't impossible here?"

“You are always allowed to go home if you feel that’s where you belong,” Jean reminded him. She never wanted any of them to feel trapped at Xavier’s; if they stayed, it should be because it was the right place for them.

“But yes, there are many more options for you here—at least from an educational perspective,” she continued as they stepped into the elevator together, descending toward the more mundane levels of the mansion. “Xavier’s will support whatever path you choose. Whether it’s trade school to repair cars or a medical doctorate, all of it is available to you if you’re willing to put in the work. Finances won’t be an obstacle.”

The elevator slowed and came to a stop, the doors sliding open to reveal the long hallway that eventually led to the kitchen and living room.

“And what about your mission?” Jean asked gently. “My understanding is that members of the Latter-Day Saints often pursue missionary work after high school. If that’s something you want, Xavier’s would fund that as well.”

Joey tucked his thumbs in his jeans' pockets, steadying himself with the familiar feeling of course denim under his fingers as they walked.

“I kind of figured I would,” he said with a shrug. “That’s just how it goes where I’m from.”

He flicked a quick glance sideways at her.

“But I don’t think the world’s quite ready for Master Splinter knocking on doors preaching Mormonism.” A faint grin tugged at his mouth. “Feels like that’d be a tough pitch.”

He looked forward again, shoulders easing.

“College wasn’t really on my radar, though. Ever.” He exhaled lightly. “I wouldn’t even know what to take.”

“I’m sure you have something that interests you, maybe something related to your family’s work in New Mexico? You could go to college for some skills and knowledge they don’t have that would help their business grow.” Jean suggested as they walked towards the kitchen together, it was past the typical lunch hour so the space was rather quiet.

“Of course you can just go to school for something that sparks passion in you, there is merit in that endeavor too.” The redhead began to open and close the cupboards in the kitchen attempting to find the peanut butter. “But if you want to go to school, we can make that happen for you. You can also stay here if you would prefer, Alaric, Kennedy, and Jennifer are just staying on as residents of Xavier’s - there’s no rush to depart once you turn eighteen.”

Joey leaned back against the counter as Jean opened cupboards, watching her search like finding the peanut butter was suddenly the most interesting problem in the room.

He took a breath. “Top shelf on the left. Behind the flour,” he said, a small smile tugging at his mouth. “Desmond hid it after someone got caught dipping half-chewed apple slices in the last jar.”

He paused.

“I never really thought about taking something back home,” he admitted. “Most of what we do, you learn by doing. Or by messing it up once and not doing that again. Not many places have a major in ‘don’t let the tourists kill themselves.’ ”

After another moment, he shrugged.

“But I guess… if there was something that’d actually help the river. Or the people. That wouldn’t be the worst idea.”

He rubbed the back of his neck once before turning to open the refrigerator, hoping someone hadn’t eaten all the blackberries and sliced cheddar.

“Staying on here, though…” He let that hang a second. “That feels different.”

Jean’s face puckered at the idea of someone double dipping into the jar, sometimes she didn’t need to know the reason why the whole school got sick at the same time. But her distaste for communal peanut butter quickly dissipated while she listened to Joey.

“How so?” She asked while telekinetically taking down the peanut butter, “Is the idea of a life outside of Arizona that far-fetched?”

Joey closed the fridge a little more softly than necessary, letting the seal thud shut as he leaned back against the counter again. He rolled a blackberry between his fingers before eating it, buying himself another moment.

“It ain’t far-fetched,” he said after he swallowed. “I live in a mansion with a man who fought in the Civil War and a literal demon prince. That’ll recalibrate your idea of far-fetched.”

He paused again and muttered something under his breath in Navajo. Then he shook his head slightly.

“Sorry. Means you can’t make straight furrows lookin’ behind you.” He huffed a faint breath. “Back home, there’s already a furrow cut: graduate, maybe some school if you need it. Find your mission. Then you fit into what’s already there for you.”

His thumb traced a faint rectangle on the counter.

“Guide in the summer. Resist the urge to drown tourists. Maybe, Ranger, if you’re the type. Find a nice, decent girl. Raise kids who learn the same river bends you did.”

He flicked a glance at Jean before letting it drop again.

“I don’t mind work. And there ain’t nothin’ wrong with learnin’. It’s just… stayin’ here ain’t just takin’ classes. It’s choosin’ different than what I was raised to think I’d do.”

He rubbed the back of his neck absently, a small, unconscious grooming motion.

“The Canyon,” he said, giving the word its weight. “It’s old. Ancient. It’ll be there whether I am or not. You don’t gotta explain yourself to it. You just show up and do the work.”

A small pause.

“I jus’… don’t wanna wake up one day and realise I drifted somewhere I didn’t mean to.”

“You don’t have to become someone else overnight,” Jean said gently, in a steady, almost teasing tone that felt more like an older sister than a headmistress. “Yeah, you’ve got this big opportunity at Xavier’s but growth takes time. It builds on who you already are. It doesn’t erase you.”

She opened the cupboard and found the last few slices of a very unimpressive loaf of bread. With a small shrug, she claimed the end pieces for herself. “And it’s completely okay to take your time figuring out which paths are actually yours. Ask yourself whether something fits your goals not just whether it sounds impressive or whether you’re afraid of missing out. You can be excited and still feel guilty. You can be hopeful and still be scared. That mix? It’s normal.”

She glanced over her shoulder at Joey while she prepared her lunch, “Try to focus on learning instead of performing. You don’t have to squeeze every drop out of every opportunity just to prove you deserve to be here. Follow what makes you curious. Let yourself explore without turning it into a test.”

The jar of grape jelly drifted lazily out of the refrigerator at her subtle telekinetic tug, floating past Joey’s head before settling into her waiting hand. “But protect your values,” she added, unscrewing the lid. “Opportunities come and go. Who you are, your integrity and your sense of self, that’s what actually shapes your future.”

She spread peanut butter across a slice of bread with deliberate care. “Make friends. Try something new. Stay up too late talking about ridiculous things. But call home sometimes and yes, that includes Christmas.” A faint smile tugged at her mouth. “And there’s no rush from me. You move at whatever pace feels right. If jumping straight into college in a big city feels overwhelming, then start smaller. Take a pottery class. Visit a museum. Take one brave step instead of ten.”

She slid the sandwich together and looked at him warmly. “You’re allowed to grow into this. You don’t have to sprint.”

Joey listened, jaw working slightly as she spoke. He didn’t interrupt. He didn’t argue. He just let the words settle.

“I ain’t worried about provin’ I deserve to be here,” he said quietly. “And I ain’t worried about takin’ a class or two.”

He hesitated, eyes on the counter.

“It’s just… back home, I know what I am. I know how I fit. Even when it’s tight, I know the shape.”

A small pause.

“Out here… feels like there’s room to try things on.”

He huffed a faint breath that might’ve been a laugh.

“And I ain’t sure I’ll like what fits.”

He rubbed the back of his neck again, the motion small and almost absent.

“I don’t wanna wake up five years from now and realise I changed into someone I don’t recognise. Or worse — someone I can’t take back home.”

“What are you afraid of becoming by being here?” Jean asked softly. She left her sandwich untouched, her attention fixed on Joey as he spoke, hearing the worry threaded through his words. After a moment, she added gently, “What part of this are you afraid you might actually like… even if it doesn’t seem to fit with who you think you’re supposed to be?”

The boy was quiet for a long moment, chewing it over. "Well," he muttered finally, "that ain't a dangerous question at all, huh"

He paused again, rolling a blackberry. "Forgettin' where I'm from, that'd take more work than I got in me," he said. "It's more... what if I try somethin' on and it does fit."

He clenched and unclenched his jaw softly, "And it turns out that ain't somethin' Bitter Springs wasn't expectin' me to be." He gave an uneasy shrug. "That road's a lot harder to walk."

“I promise I’m not trying to trip you up with these questions,” Jean said, a soft laugh slipping through to take the edge off his nerves. “I just want to understand you better. That’s the only way I can actually help.”

She tilted her head slightly, studying Joey with quiet care. “So you’re afraid you won’t fit anymore? That if you change, the people back home won’t recognize you… or won’t want to?” Jean hopped up onto the kitchen counter, settling into the familiar spot like she had a hundred times before, one foot swinging idly. "It’s okay to be scared of that. It’s a real fear. When it feels like becoming something new might cost you the place you came from, of course that’s going to shake you.”

Her voice softened but the certainty in her tone remained. “But growing doesn’t mean you’re betraying who you were. It means you’re building on it. Even if the people around you can’t see that right away.”

Jean glanced around the kitchen for a moment at the white counters and towering wood-paneled walls, the quiet history of Xavier's was hard to ignore. “The hard part, the part no one really warns you about, is that some relationships are tied to an older version of you. And when you start to change, they don’t always stretch far enough to meet you where you are now.” Her gaze returned to him, steady and kind. “That’s not because you failed them. It just means that’s as far as they could go.”

Jean leaned forward slightly, her tone softening into something warmer, more protective. “You’re still allowed to care about where you came from. You don’t have to throw any of that away just to move forward. You can hold onto it and still choose something different for yourself.”

“You also don’t have to figure it all out overnight, Joey,” she continued, her voice gentle but sure in a way that felt grounding. “You can take this slow. Try things out. Change a little at a time and see how it feels. Let yourself grow into it instead of forcing it all at once.”

A small, reassuring smile tugged at her lips. “And if you’re not sure you’ll be accepted in Bitter Springs, then it matters even more that you find that acceptance somewhere else. Even if it’s just one person who sees you as you are now and doesn’t ask you to shrink back into who you used to be.”

She paused, just long enough for it to sink in. “And maybe ask yourself this too, what is it going to cost you if you stay the same just so they will accept you?”

Jean’s expression softened again, something quietly steadfast behind it. “You deserve both, you know. To grow, and to belong. And not everyone’s going to be able to give you both... but the people who matter? They’ll make room for who you’re becoming.”

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