Frozen

Posted on Mon Jul 22nd, 2024 @ 11:40am by Bobby Drake & Jean Grey

5,689 words; about a 28 minute read

Mission: Episode 5: Days of Fortune Past
Location: Baxter Building | Manhattan
Timeline: October 11th, 1990

“Yes, Senator, I understand today’s current political climate…” Jean looked up from her desk, a phone being held to her ear by phantom telekinetic hands as she took notes on her computer. Bobby stood in the doorway of her office, surprisingly on time for the conversation she had forced him to have with her. She gestured for him to come in as her attention returned to her call. “What I’m asking you to consider is tomorrow…”

Jean had her own office as part of X-Factor’s headquarters in the Baxter Building. Decorated in photos of family and friends, a snake plant that seemed to thrive in fluorescent light, and soft leather office chairs, he couldn’t help but feel the touch of the familiar in the space. A hint of what Xavier’s office felt like back at the mansion replicated here with Jean. “And what will your constituents say when innocent people, children, are prosecuted or even killed thanks to this law?”

Bobby had only been in New York for a short period of time but what Scott had told him about how busy they were had not been understatement. X-Factor had their hands full with mutant matters that went from the mundane to the outrageous, leaving them little time to do anything else.

“I know this because I’ve seen it happen, we’ve all seen it happen. Can I send you some evidence of the trends? Something more substantial than my testimony… Great … Can we talk again after you’ve reviewed it? … Thank you, Senator… uh-huh… Goodbye.” Jean hung up the phone and finished her notes.

“Hi, Bobby.” She finally looked up at him with a small smile. Sometimes Jean looked so different from the teenager he first met all those years ago. Today, dressed in a women’s black suit with her hair pulled back into a neat bun, she looked like an adult. Not some underage girl willing to drink whiskey from the bottle on a dare. “I’m sorry that phone call went long. Did you have any trouble finding the attorney’s office this morning?”

That entire exchange rewrote the way Bobby saw Jean. She had been the cute and friendly girl next door for his entire life, the kind he could give his first kiss to and not feel embarrassed. Of course she'd picked Scott instead of him. And that was just as well because Bobby eventually destroyed everything he loved. If she had chosen him, then it might've been her trapped in Limbo rather than Lorna, instead of sitting here fighting the good fight against an out of control government.

No, the woman who sat at the desk before him was not that teenage girl he once knew. She was powerful. Not just telepathically but in every way. Poise, charisma, zeal. Bobby's breath caught in his throat and stayed there until Jean had greeted him by name.

“What? Oh, no, uh, it was fine.” He slapped his pockets before he realized he'd left the clipboard in the conference room. “Got it signed for and everything, just like you said. I put the sheet with the others.”

Without quite knowing his place, Bobby took a few hesitant steps into the office and stopped. “Was that really a senator?”

“Yes, Senator Thad Cochran of Mississippi,” Jean said with just the slightest hint of dislike and frustration. “One of Senator Kelly’s drinking buddies and subsequently one of this act’s biggest mouthpieces. It has taken calls to his office on a daily basis to get him to talk to me. But I can be stubborn too.” She waved off the topic with a gesture of her hand, if she started complaining about politics now, Jean would never stop.

“Have a seat Bobby,” Jean smiled at him once more and suddenly her old face was back again. That sweet girl for whom he saved the last of the strawberry ice cream, who drenched him in lake water when they were goofing around. “Is there anything in particular you want to talk about?”

Bobby took a seat as offered but looked down at his feet without saying much. His fingers steepled over his knees while he just chewed his lip for a minute. As far as first days on the job went, this one was pretty good. It had a lot of boring mental tasks and a fair amount of footwork, but Bobby didn't mind that, not when it all added up to something important.

One of the requirements, though, was that he had to grow up. This wasn't playtime. Bobby didn't know how to do that, but he wanted it.

“You'd said… I need to work through some things.” Bobby peered up at Jean while still leaning on his knees. His eyes barely crested up from beneath his brow with the slightest bit of eye contact. “I don't know how.”

“That’s okay.” That familiar, comforting tone in her voice. “That’s why we’re talking right now. We’ll figure it out together. The fact that you showed up to this and you’re willing to talk is all that’s needed. And if talking is too hard, you can show me. Sometimes sharing your stream of consciousness is easier than trying to find the exact words. Scott does that all the time.” A small glimpse into their personal life beyond heavy petting under the willow tree.

“What is something that’s been keeping you up at night? Or something that’s annoying you or distracting you?” Jean took a sip from the mug on her desk, even though the coffee in it was cold. “It doesn’t have to be something major, it can be something small if that’s easier. Rome wasn’t built in a day.”

“I feel cold at night,” Bobby said, his words becoming stilted. “Or… at least what I remember cold was before my powers came.” Temperature regulation was something Bobby never worried about. He could walk through a blizzard and not shiver once. “And alone. Like I’m not even real. Or that nothing and no one else is. Either way… just alone.” He looked up at Jean now, not just a tentative gaze but with his whole face. “It gnaws at me, like a rat. I don’t know why or when it started. But it’s always there, Jean. Hurting me. Drowning me. Sometimes… sometimes it’s like…” He tried to think but shook his head apologetically. Words were failing him.

“Decimation.” Jean responded. “Everything you were, are, and will be is ripped apart and scattered into the wind.” She looked at him with pity and heartache because Jean knew exactly what he was feeling. “Because you died on Krakoa. You saw Angel torn from the sky and you went to save him. And then you died. Now it haunts you because our minds weren’t meant to endure and survive such trauma.” She let out a sad, defeated sigh. “I’m so sorry that you had to experience that, Bobby. It is a forever altering experience.”

As Jean spoke, Bobby’s attention went from focused to glazed. She said he died. But he was right here. He couldn’t have died. That… that couldn’t be. “No.” He shook his head in denial at first. “No, that’s not true. I…”

Warren.

“I remember…” Bobby clutched his hands over his ears to push back the screams from Krakoa that he carried inside. “Warren. He doubled back to give us time to reach the Blackbird. He was always the fastest, the first into danger. He said he’d be fine. Then there was a flash. A sizzling boom. It was deafening! Something shot him so hard it knocked him clear the other way. He was falling…and falling… I had to save him! Nobody else could! And… and…”

Bobby started rocking back and forth as the memory came alive to him in a lucid flashback. “No! I don’t wanna die! Why is it so cold? There’s nothing… so numb… but so cold!” His face twisted into an angry, terrified rictus stained by tears. “I’m dead! Fuck me, I’m dead!” Speech faltered from his wailing into broken questions without answers. “Why? Here? Now? Dead? Not here? Not now? Why…why…whhhyyyy…”

~* ‘Bobby.’ *~ Jean reached out to him amidst that cold and fractured place he felt the warmth of her presence.
~* ‘Focus on my voice, Bobby. Listen to the sound of my voice and use it as a guide to calm and center yourself.’ *~

“I’m falling,” Bobby whimpered, eyes closed. “Falling forever. Why it won’t stop?” Despite the question, he had calmed somewhat. “How can I hear you? Did we all die?”

~* ‘No, Bobby, you died, but you came back. That’s why things feel so broken.’*~ Jean stood up and walked over to him. She crouched down next to his chair and placed a hand on his. ~* ‘You’re alive. We both are.’ *~

At the touch of her hand, Bobby jumped out of the chair and sent it careening across the floor. What looked at her next wasn't his face. It was a frozen helmet with twisted points like horns and jagged fangs, as if someone had formed a Viking Samurai headgear out of ice. He pointed a frosted finger at Jean. “Don't touch me!”

The psychological damage that Jean has felt was manifesting itself through Bobby's powers. Physical touch had been a trigger. Now it was fully presenting in the only way possible. Bobby’s conscious self was tucked away in the confines of unconsciousness along in his core being, what might be called an inner child, the root from which all personality expressions were grown.

“Everyone is dead and just doesn't know it!” His voice sounded harsh and gravelly, as if his larynx had completely frozen and could only vibrate below human registers. “You're just a walking corpse like everyone else! Death comes for us all!”

~* ‘Enough!’ *~ Jean’s tone became firm with Bobby after his sudden outburst. Pain and grief were one thing but violent outbursts from a fractured mind were another. This was the pain that had been making Bobby so dangerous to himself and to everyone else around him. ~* ‘We face this now’ *~

Bobby suddenly felt a rush of heat surrounding him and the office space burned away to reveal an open plane, a neutral field that was everything and nothing all at once. Jean had brought him to the Astral Plane, a level of existence with ties to the physical world that only telepaths could willingly access. The enraged frost giant was trapped in a cage created by Jean’s design. It pounded and roared from inside its confines but could not escape.

“Come out, Bobby.” Jean’s gentle tone returned as she beckoned the hidden Bobby. “You don’t have to hide from this anymore. We face this together.”

A hand of flesh reached beyond the cage, its icy veneer melting away before Jean’s gentle light. It was soon followed by Bobby’s face, torso, and then the rest of his body. When he was a few steps away from the cage, he turned back to see the snarling frost demon that had formed from his terror and pain.

“I’m not dead…” Bobby observed, looking around at the non-place he occupied with Jean. “Where are we?”

“This is the Astral Plane, a place that telepaths can access with enough skill and practice. We can bring non-telepaths to the lowest level of the plane. The best way I can describe it is a waking dream where your conscious and unconscious mind can work together. Simply think of things or moments or people, and a version of them will appear.” To demonstrate, Jean created a thicket of blackberry bushes that a small white rabbit appeared from. Dressed in a waistcoat and tails, the rabbit ran off with watch in hand before he and the bushes disappeared.

“The disconnect from your mind and the trauma of your death has manifested as an alter-ego within you. The Astral Plane offers a more structured environment where we can work together on facing your trauma. I can help keep some order to your thoughts as you process them.” Jean paused for a moment and created a second rabbit. This one was more like the cottontails that ate the lawn of the mansion. She picked it up and held it in her arms, stroking its soft brown fur.

“When I was a girl and I was processing my friend’s death, the Professor brought me here often. We worked on a lot of my pain and fear this way. I think it will help you too.”

Bobby looked back at the cage and the snarling beast inside it. “That’s… that’s me?” He looked both horrified and intrigued. There was recognition in his face which made him nod at his own question. “I don’t remember much after Krakoa. Whatever happened to me, all I remember is tubes and needles. But it’s all hazy.” He rubbed his neck. “The first real memory I have is being in a lab with Aurora. We were imprisoned together. And then Scott rescued us. We almost got killed… then… it all goes blurry again. Next thing I know, I’m at Muir Island a week later being spoon-fed that nasty gruel Moira is always making.”

Another snarl from the beast. Bobby raised his head and let the connection between his heart and mind strengthen before withdrawing again. “What do I do about him?”

“We take away his power.” Jean examined the frost giant, slowly circling its cage as it gnashed and snarled. “He’s a manifestation of pain, so we need to examine what he represents and at least acknowledge it. I think it will take time to find true peace with this pain, but facing it at least allows us to address it.”

She set down the rabbit she was holding and it hopped away and out of existence. “He appeared when I touched your hand. That was the trigger that set you off and brought him out. Now that he’s contained, touch my hand again.” Jean reached out to him once more, her delicate fingers outstretched in acceptance.

“Okay…” Bobby took Jean by the hand and waited for something to happen. At first it was nothing. They just stood there together, hand in hand.

But then the beast in the cage howled. It transformed from the ice giant into a thick, foggy mist. A million microscopic shards of ice floated around the cage like a snow globe. Soon, a scene emerged.

It was difficult to make out a first. There was the shape of a man or maybe a bird. As the image enhanced, a monochromatic representation of Angel became clear, as if watching a video through static.

“Warren!” cried a voice from the mists. Bobby's voice, even though he was standing quietly next to Jean. “No!”

But Warren vanished, his image replaced by the grisly visage of the ice troll. Watching the entire thing again from the outside reduced Bobby to tears.

“I couldn't save him,” Bobby said, his voice cracking. “I couldn't save myself!”

That admission triggered another scene. This time it was a statue of a man. His hands were outstretched, his facial expression a mixture of fear, confusion, and pain.

“Bobby! What have you done?” The voice was a woman's.

“Mom?” The word fell out of Bobby's mouth with surprise and no small amount of pain.

“What did you do, Bobby?”

Bobby shook his head and spoke in sync with the voice of a young man inside the mist. “I didn't mean to, Mommy! I don't know what happened!”

“Undo it!” she pleaded. “Whatever you did, please just undo it!”

The scene dissipated inside Jean's psionic bubble.

“I can't!” Bobby screamed upward into infinity, his voice taking on the harsh tone of the frost giant. The mist coalesced back into just the giant snarling face that roared in pain. “I can't!”

“You haven’t forgiven yourself for any of it.” Jean frowned at the realization, at the burden that he had been carrying for so long and how they had failed him by not addressing it sooner. “Bobby, you have to forgive yourself. Living in this state of self-inflicted penance, it’s destroying you from the inside out.”

She inhaled deeply as the waves of pain that moved through Bobby did the same with her. Such self-hatred and disgust, he deemed himself unworthy of love because of what he had done. “Your father’s death was a terrible accident. I know it’s easy to dwell on your blame, but we need to help you find grace and forgiveness. It’s not a matter of what you did, but more about what you do.”

“I can't…” Bobby repeated, this time in weak sorrow. His voice had lost its vigor.

A montage of memories swirled through the cage. Somehow the beast maintained its face while flashes of scenes played out in the middle of it.

“Get out!” Mrs. Drake screamed. “Leave us alone!”

“I love Scott, Bobby.” It was Jean's own voice, but it hit with the force of a jackhammer.

“Sometimes I wonder if you came from another planet,” said Warren's unmistakable voice with its touch of nasal smugness.

“I love you, Bobby, but I'm not, like, in love with you.” Lorna. Her overly bubbly affectation was unmistakable as well.

Bobby fell to his knees. “Make it stop!” He covered his eyes with his hands. “No more, Jean, make it stop!”

“Okay, okay. I’ll make it stop.” Jean raised a hand and the cage around the beast turned solid. Walled off from them, it was silenced and hidden.

Jean sat down on her knees next to Bobby, meeting the level of his eye rather than looming over him. “We can go slow, one step at a time, okay? And when you feel like you’re done for the day, we’ll stop and try again later. It’s not a one shot all or nothing situation. You’ve held on to this for so long.”

All Bobby could do was nod and whimper. He'd try his best.

“Let’s go one by one, share with me what you’re feeling.” Jean paused for a moment giving him some time to prepare and process. “When your father died and your mother kicked you out of the house, what do you hold onto the most from that time?”

Bobby's chest racked with small tremors until he could get his breathing straightened out. “She…she didn't just kick me out,” he said. “She sent me to jail! Called the cops and left me to rot there! I was barely 12!”

Behind them both, a brick wall appeared that was soon blown apart into smithereens. When the dust settled, it was a young Scott with what looked like crimson magnifying glasses over his face. It had taken a little while for him to grow into his ruby-quartz glasses.

“If the Professor hadn't sent Scott to break me out while working whatever legal magic he did, I don't know where I'd be.” Bobby sniffed. “Never saw or heard from her again.”

They were all so young when this started, Scott looked like a child in Bobby’s memory. A reminder of how quickly they all had to grow up when faced with what they were and what they had done.

Jean remembered that they needed to find gratitude for the good in their lives, despite the hardship of losing a family he had found a new one. “I’m sorry your mother abandoned you, to lose both a father and a mother. It’s a heartbreaking loss. You’re going to have to forgive yourself for the accident that took your father’s life and forgive your mother for not being able to forgive and accept you.”

Such easy things to say, but very hard to do. Today wasn’t about resolution but merely acknowledging what had happened and what needed to happen.

“But the Professor did find you and Scott did save you.” Jean reminded Bobby of the reality of his situation, the good thing that happened rather than the what if scenarios that did not. “And a new family, a new home, was created for all of us.” Jean replicated a Christmas morning in the mansion. The First Class and Xavier around a tree, exchanging presents and smiling. “I know we aren’t your biological family, but sometimes the family you choose is better than the family you were given.”

Bobby nodded in agreement but that only made him cry harder. They loved him. He loved them. But not always in the way he wanted.

“I know, Jean…” He couldn't even look at her. “But I still feel so alone. It never goes away. And it feels like…like it's meant to be.”

“You can’t love someone else until you love yourself,” Jean replied. “You haven’t forgiven, or at least made peace with, your past and because of that it makes it incredibly difficult to create a future.”

She paused again thinking of the best ways to phrase things, especially when talking about herself.

“I loved Scott from the very beginning even though I didn’t know it in those early years. It took time and patience for us to work through our own issues before we were both emotionally mature enough to even consider a relationship... I know you’ve had romantic feelings for me, but my heart belongs to someone else. I cannot love you the way you wanted me to, the way you deserve to be loved.”

Bobby nodded and wiped his eyes. It hurt not being the one she picked but she was here with him now. That meant something. A lot, even.

“And Warren was never meant to be,” Jean continued, discussing a long standing elephant in the room. “I’ve known about your attraction to him, to men in general, for a long time. But it was a topic that you never really seemed open to discussing or even admitting to. So I tucked away that knowledge because it wasn’t mine to share with the world. Warren is straight, he has no interest in men. Once again, another person that cannot love you the way you deserve to be loved.”

That revelation was so blunt and so gentle that Bobby could only blink in stunned silence. She'd known? The entire time and she had known! And she hadn't embarrassed him or made him feel rejected either. Not even once.

“Lorna is the hardest one,” she said with a small sigh. “And I think the truest testament to my previous statements about needing to love yourself in order to love another. You weren’t ready for a relationship at that time. She wanted more and you weren’t ready to give it, so she found someone who could. You need to learn from your mistakes with Lorna so you don’t create them again with someone else.”

So many faces passed through Bobby's mind. There was no denying the truth in Jean's words.

Jean paused again daring to probe a little further into Bobby’s current romantic interludes at the mansion. “I know you are still trying, still desperately seeking love from someone. But it won’t work until you face the pain and hate you feel for yourself.”

“I'll just fuck it all up again!” Bobby protested. “Just like I always do! Ethan, Kennedy, Iris…at least she knew better than to let me in. I can't be who people want me to be. How am I supposed to love that? I've got nothing to give anyone but disappointment. And sometimes death.”

“It’s a process, Bobby, I don’t expect you to love yourself and to see your own value today. That is the end of the book when we have just started reading it. We go step by step through all of this. Seeing this pain, facing it and acknowledging, that’s your first step. Now you have to forgive yourself and others for what has happened.” Jean reached out and held his hand again. “I know that seems impossible and therefore not worth the effort so I’m going to ask you to trust me. All of this takes time and it’s going to be challenging but you’ll come out better.” She let her words sink in before she shared more. “I know because I’ve lived with that guilt too…”

Jean looked skyward as the theater of the mind began to play. Bobby watched as the memory of Jean and Annie began to play. Two girls, no older than ten, were playing in the front yard. Bouncing a ball between one another while they chatted. Annie said something that made Jean’s brow furrow with upset. Once Jean had the ball, she bounced it much harder than necessary. It went far above Annie’s head and into the street.

“You missed! Go get it!” Jean pouted and yelled. Childish retaliation from being upset.

Annie’s face soured, but she ran off to retrieve the ball, paying no attention to the speeding car that had just rounded the corner. The rest played out as Jean had shared before. The squealing of breaks, the sickening thud, two children screaming and crying until only one voice remained.

Jean swallowed hard as she watched the memory play out, a moment she had come to terms with but still held remorse over. “It was my fault… she died because I lost my temper and I wanted to make her pay. I felt incredibly guilty about that moment and everything that happened afterwards. I saw what happens when you die and that made me not want to live. I didn’t think I deserved to live either.”

The story was familiar to Bobby but many of the details were new. Seeing them play out live and in color before his very eyes sunk it home for Bobby as if it had happened to him. No wonder he'd been drawn to Jean from the beginning. She had understood him better than he knew.

“Then the voices started and I learned what everyone else thought and that made me withdraw even more. I hated myself and life and everyone who ever existed. I was scared of what could and would happen if I left my solitude.”

Bobby nodded at her. He remembered how quiet she used to be.

“But I’m not that person anymore," Jean said with quiet confidence. "I see the person I am, I love life and myself. I’ve learned to love my abilities and see the good I can do with them.”

“But how?” Bobby asked. That was the million dollar question. “I understand what you're saying but I just don't see the bridge between here and there.”

Jean squeezed his hand in reassurance. “I can tell you all the things I love about you, I have before. But that value has to come from you rather than me.”

A reflective surface materialized in front of Bobby and showed him his face. “How do I look at that and love him? All he's ever brought me was heartache and rejection. I'd be better off without him. Maybe we all would.”

“You know that isn’t true,” Jean replied so quickly and with such conviction that her words had a bite to them. “Acknowledging your feelings and having a safe space to express them is a good start. Denying that part of you breeds ill contempt. Do what’s meaningful for you, find the time to do things that make you feel fulfilled. Set realistic goals for yourself to achieve. You're on the edge of a new life and you can shape it however you want. And stop being so hard on yourself, this takes grace.” Sometimes Jean sounded like a self-help book but there was truth in her words. Walking in the minds of so many with Charles Xavier as her guide had provided her with wisdom beyond her years.

“I just want to be happy!” Bobby exclaimed. “I don't want to be alone! I can't even meet that goal…” He let out a deep sigh. “You're just trying to help, Jean. I know that. Everything feels like it's spinning in circles and I can't make it stop.”

The next picture that appeared was the New York skyline from the vantage point of the Baxter Building. Sunlight faintly glared from the office windows of the X-Factor conference room.

“Being with you all helps,” Bobby said as he stared at his memory of the city. “Thank you for giving me a chance.”

“It does help.” Jean agreed with him, their relationships had been her lifeline too. “Let’s start small. What are two things you can do tomorrow that will make you happy?”

“Get drunk.” Bobby's voice was half serious. “I've already started a cold brew. Johnny showed me an old janitor's closet where I could keep a carboy.”

“Bobby.” Jean chided him like she did Scott. “I thought you didn’t want to be a fuckup anymore? Has drinking made you happy as of yet?”

Bobby looked down. “No,” he conceded. “It's fun but I always feel like a jackass after.” He thought for a minute and came up with something slightly more serious. “I've always wanted to go to the top of the Empire State Building…” And then he added with a laugh. “...and jump off!”

“And then you would craft a slide out of ice and make your way down just like I’ve seen you do a thousand times.” Jean countered his hypothetical with her own. “But if you want to see the Empire State Building, we can go to Brooklyn tomorrow and check it out.”

Bobby laughed. “Exactly! But it would be the Empire State Building! And then I could come down somewhere in Central Park and… I don't know, I'll figure it out from there.”

“Okay so that’s one thing." Jean looked bemused but she pressed onward anyway. "What’s the second thing that will make you happy tomorrow? It doesn’t have to be major.”

“That only counts as one thing?” Bobby shrugged. “Shit, I don’t know. I’ll… go talk to a college counselor, see if there are any programs that could help with what we’re doing. I don’t know what I’m doing and I wanna change that.”

“I think that’s a great idea. Even just being on campus with peers, it opens up a world of possibilities. I think meeting people outside the mansion could be really good for you.” Jean glanced over at the imprisoned demon. “Do you want to let him out or leave him in there?”

Bobby blinked at the question. “I… I can leave him there? But he's me… how would that work?”

He looked at the cage and the snarling disembodied head that filled it. Could he accept that back into himself? Could he get away with not doing it?

“Maybe…” It was worth considering. Bobby just didn't know what to think.

“The Professor has walled off parts of my psyche on many different occasions. It allowed us more space and time to work on my recovery while preventing me from being a danger to myself or others. Nothing bad has come from it.” Jean paused and considered Bobby for a moment. “But this isn’t a cure, it's a treatment. If we keep him caged up and you stop working on these issues that can make all of this so much worse.”

Bobby considered that. It made sense in a confusing way. If he could be more free to feel without…without that thing in the way, then maybe he could make a real connection.

“I've been in a prison for so long,” he said at length. “Scott knocked the wall down and sprung me out of jail, but part of me never left. I think... I'll let this guy out some day. It won't hurt to leave him where he's always been for a little while longer.”

Turning back to Jean, Bobby held out his hands toward her. “Do it. Whatever it takes, I'm down.”

Jean nodded her head in agreement before she closed her eyes and placed a hand to her temple. She remained silent and focused for a few minutes before she opened her eyes once more.

“It’s done. How are you feeling?” A general question to see how Bobby was handling their first of many conversations. Hopefully facing and sharing some of his struggles helped alleviate some of his turmoil.

“Weird,” Bobby said. “I… I know things. I can see them more clearly now. They're numb though. Memories with no feeling. It's…it's empty. Am I supposed to feel so empty?”

“When pain is the only feeling you know, it’s alarming when it’s missing. Allow yourself some time to review those memories without the burden of self-hatred. Try to find grace and forgiveness in those memories, then the pain will hold less space for you.”

He looked back at Jean with a hitch in his voice. “It's all I've ever known inside and now I don't know what to feel. What am I supposed to do now?”

“You get to work, Bobby.” Jean placed her hand on his shoulder with a smile. “Come to terms with your past and build a future. Find your purpose and self-worth.”

He was Iceman, a founding member of both the X-Men and X-Factor. What more purpose did he need? “Let’s start with lunch,” Bobby suggested with a teasing grin. “We can go from there.”

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