TELL ME WHY

what the problem is, Charles, I mean, I've asked her about it in a hundred different ways, but she just won't say what's wrong."

Charles shakes his head, heart dropping. It seemed like everything was going to be okay after the battle of Cairo. Brianna had discovered more to her powers than she knew before, she had made up with her father, and she gained new friends.

"I will speak to her after class," he suggests, moving around the room with his wheel chair, preparing for the next class of the day.

"That is, hoping she even shows up," Hank mumbles. Charles clenches his jaw, unfortunately knowing the truth in his friend's words.

He is deeply surprised to see, among the group of students carrying papers, Brianna coming into the room some ten minutes later and taking a seat in the circle of young mutants.

He begins the lesson, and casts a glance at his daughter every now and then, only to see her scribbling away with her pencil, making notes, but remaining silent while other students answer the questions.

The hour goes by quickly, and Brianna seems to be taking her time gathering her things. Charles furrows his eyebrows at the frown that is so evident on her face as she keeps her gaze down.

Finally, all the students have left, and she is the only one remaining, lingering as if she knows that her father wishes to speak to her.

"Brianna?" He calls out from behind the desk before she can leave the room. She turns to look at him, trying to twist the frown on her face into something less upsetting. "Can I speak to you for a moment?"

Bree pauses before deciding, and retraces her steps back to the chair in front of his desk. He is gazing at her, half-curious, half-worried.

"Did you finally get tired of the library?" He asks softly, trying not to accuse her of skipping class. She averts her gaze to the front of his desk and shrugs.

"No, I'll never get tired of the library," she replies. Charles smiles. "I just felt like coming today." Then he sighs, leaning to the side and resting his hand against his chin.

"I wish you would talk to me about it."

"About what?" Bree furrows her eyebrows.

"Whatever it is that's bothering you."

She stays silent a moment. Charles can't help but worry if she is going to get up and leave, without another word. But she doesn't do that.

"I just miss Alex," she says, so quiet that he could hardly hear. But he knew, even before now, that Alex and Brianna got along very well before he died. They were like brother and sister, Charles heard some say. Most of the time. she followed him around, eager to learn from him, as others would say. And of course, Alex would talk with Charles, tell him how she was doing on a daily basis, tell him what new and exciting book she had found this time.

"I think we all do," he says, but this does not make her feel better, not really. Knowing that everyone else was in pain only worsened hers.

A surge of blue emits among her fingertips. That seems to happen whenever she is feeling some deep emotion of some kind. Charles does not miss it.

He has never seen his daughter's powers before, but he somehow knew that she had them. He did not know the extent of what she was capable of, though he was very interested in finding out. But at this moment, he's not sure if Bree would like to show him.

"You should go to training," he says, eyes flickering from her glowing blue fingertips to her eyes, which were trained elsewhere.

"So I can make a fool of myself?" She responds, clenching her fists, hiding the blue of her fingers against her palms.

"You'll never be able to control your powers unless you make an effort, Brianna," Charles says, and the girl's jaw clenches tightly.

"I do make an effort," she argues. "It's just damn hard when I'm more worried about the damage I could cause."

Charles furrows his eyebrows, dismissing the profound language and feeling a pang of sympathy for her. He has met many young mutants who have been afraid to embrace their abilities because they are worried about causing more harm than good.

"Back in Cairo," she continues, "I've never felt anything like that before. I felt powerful, like I could do anything. I fought, and I did good, but now..." She stands from her seat, continuing with her arms waving. "When we're training, I know it's not a life-threatening situation. I know we're just being tested, but I don't want to test this out around other people, because I have no idea what I can do. I don't want to hurt somebody."

It has been a very long time since she has confided into her father like this, and he was thankful for it. It is much better than her hiding in the library, away from the world.

"Believe it or not, many young mutants feel this way when they are first discovering their abilities," he says.

"What do you do?" She asks quietly, stilling behind the chair she was in and resting her hands on the back of it.

"I help them as much as I can," he answers. "I try to convince them that their mutation is not a curse, but a gift." She looks to the floor. "You're gifted, Brianna. Everyone here is."

The silence that follows seems to last a long time, until eventually, Brianna looks up at Charles, eyes pleading.

"Will you help me?"

He smiles. "Of course, if you'll let me."