Who: Charles Xavier & Nick Fury Where: Xavier's office When: June 18, 2008; 2:24 PM What: Discuss Xavier's fears for the future
The woman with the green hair had left him standing outside the office doors, with no more than a word to wait. Nick Fury stood with his arms folded across his chest, one good eye roaming down the corridor in which he found himself. He didn't like this place. He had never liked this place. It was too informal, too homey. Too much wood paneling, not enough black linoleum. Still, a message directly from Xavier was enough to put personal grudges aside, even if Fury's time would have been better spent observing the progress of his newest Avenger.
Charles Xavier bowed his head and stroked his fingers back and forth across each other, listening in on his guest's thoughts. He wasn't too proud to commit this small invasion of privacy. Lately, he couldn't afford to be proud. There were things happening, things bigger than grudges and rivalries, bigger than pride, though he knew some of his students were inclined to disagree. Sighing, Xavier touched the controls on the arm of his chair, gliding soundlessly across the room and opening the door. He hoped that they would retain that innocence, but the more he dug down into recent events, the more he doubted it. He looked up, face grave but welcoming.
"General Fury."
Fury arched an eyebrow, glancing down at his host with more than a little surprise on his face. It wasn't often he saw Charles Xavier, but there was a noticeable change in the man that must have come about recently. Perhaps it could explain the slightly heavy mood he'd felt in the usually bustling school.
"Professor." He offered his hand, following Xavier into the window-walled office and taking a seat. He felt uneasy already, a nagging sensation in the back of his head that suggested there was more in there than simply his own thoughts. "I came as soon as I could after getting your message. I was in DC when I received it."
"I appreciate your haste," Xavier answered. The wheelchair purred across thick carpet until he was safely ensconced behind his broad mahogany desk. Delicate tendrils of psychic awareness brushed the minds that passed by in the halls. His students were happy, confused by the sudden influx of active X-Men but content that their benefactor had things in order. It hurt his heart, but he was pleased as well. It meant that things hadn't spiraled out of control yet.
"I'll get right to the point, General," he said smoothly, betraying no sign that he was, as he spoke, touching the minds of everyone in the school in turn. "I don't know that S.H.I.E.L.D. has noticed, as I'm fairly certain - but correct me if I'm wrong - that there are no psychics in your employ, but there is something very dangerous stirring. It is beginning to affect my students." He paused, lips drawing into a thin grimace. "It is beginning to affect me."
Arching both eyebrows this time, Fury folded his fingers in his lap and leaned forward, just enough to express the sudden deepening of his interest. His opinions of the Xavier Institute and her headmaster may never have been fit for fine company, but he knew when to take the man seriously.
"Is there a name for this... stirring?" he asked, relaxing a little. He felt his eyelid blink beneath the heavy patch that concealed the worst of the scarring, as if the patch itself would block Xavier's abilities from reaching inside to touch his thoughts. He twitched his head to the side, just a little. "And are all of your psychic residents being affected, or just a few?"
"Only the most powerful," Xavier allowed. His eyes focused on a spot somewhere beyond Fury's head, his thoughts roaming out to find the two women who shared his knowledge. Emma greeted the brush with cold amusement, Jean with warmth and a touch of worry. He withdrew and focused again on Fury. "Myself. Emma Frost. Jean Gray. Two nights ago, we shared a dream. I hesitate to call it prophetic in any way, as none of us possess the gift of foresight. I think, rather, that it was a reaction to something."
He stopped and shook his head, rubbing his fingers together again. They made a dry, whispering noise, and he continued. "Two weeks ago, I received a message from an old friend. 'Time to gather your babes, Charles'. That was all it said, but I took it to heart. You may have noticed that the school is a bit crowded at the moment; that's because I've recalled all of the teams that were in the field. All of my X-Men are here, General Fury, waiting." He stared steadily into Fury's good eye. "But for what, I can't say."
Bristling briefly at the mention of Emma Frost, Fury forced himself to sit back in the low-back chair. She wasn't the first reformed villain to find sanctuary behind Xavier's walls, and the thought You're only getting what you ask for had passed through Fury's mind before. He relaxed his shoulders, picking instead at another part of Xavier's revelation.
"An old friend?" he asked, his upper lip curling just a little. "Dare I ask who, or are my assumptions correct?" He closed his eye for a moment, just enough to push a deep thought of mistrust towards Charles, concerning all of his 'old friends'
Xavier caught the thought and disregarded it utterly. He didn't expect Fury to understand. He didn't expect anyone to understand and, in fact, he himself barely grasped the intricate, delicate relationship that he shared with Erik Lensherr. But he knew that somehow, in spite of everything, he still trusted the man.
"Who is unimportant," Xavier answered, hoping some of the urgency that weighed like iron in his chest communicated itself to his voice. "All that matters is that I trust the spirit that the message was sent in. I'm afraid for my students, General, and I'm asking for your help."
"Understood." That was all he needed to hear. A request for aid from a man usually so proud and self-sufficient? Whatever was on the horizon was clearly bigger than any animosity still held between S.H.I.E.L.D and the X-men. Fury inclined his head forward, lacing his fingers together over one folded knee.
"Find out everything you can. I don't care how...The Avengers won't get in your way, I'll make sure of it. We'll put out what intelligence we can, but...this early, I can't say how much help we can be." he paused, eyes cast down in thought for a moment. "S.H.I.E.L.D is prepared to work together, if it comes to that."
Xavier nodded and folded his hands in front of him, resisting the urge to twist them together again. This was more than he'd expected; with a little prodding, Fury and S.H.I.E.L.D. would come around fully. He felt sure of that at least.
"Might I make a suggestion, General?" He didn't wait for Fury to give the go-ahead. "Call all of your best operatives together. Forge relationships with the men and women who operate outside your sphere of influence. If this is as big as I think it is, we'll need all the help we can get."
"Professor," Fury allowed himself something of a small smile, he wasn't a man who often reveled in his position. "There are very few people outside my sphere of influence. Besides, with our newest acquisition, we've had former agents coming out of the woodwork left and right." He knew there was no need to elaborate, what Xavier hadn't plucked from the newspapers, he would pluck from his head. There were no words for how uncomfortable the extent of Xavier's made him. The secrets of the government ran deep.
"But," he continued, fingers still folded, "I understand your concern. I will mobilize what I can, and gather whoever will listen."
Xavier nodded, realizing that he would have to be content with that. His thoughts skimmed Fury's for a moment. Captain America. In spite of himself, his eyes widened a fraction of an inch and though the weight on his chest did not lift, it lightened somewhat. If Fury had somehow managed to locate the lost super-soldier... well. There was no telling what else he could do.
"I will contact you again as soon as I know anything else," Xavier said, extending his hand politely. It was clear that Fury was in a hurry to leave and, having said his piece, Xavier was content to let him go.
"Please, make sure you do." Fury accepted his hand, shaking it firmly and leaving the spacious office. His haste to leave belied any cool exterior he had tried to maintain, and he ignored the glances and glares from students and faculty as he passed. He'd had enough on his mind between Banner and Rogers, and now with Xavier worried and the school on alert...it was simply something else to add to the list of everything that made Nick Fury's life hard.