He thought for a minute. "I miss them. But. . . I was always the least useful, the least capable. I was the one who only made the reserve team, because being a good physical fighter just doesn't trump telepathy, or being made of organic diamond, or whatever. Here. . . it's like I stand more on my own merit with people who were so inundated by kids who need them more that I got pushed aside. Hell, I think before I came here the deepest conversation I ever had with Nate was about butter and how he should hand it to me. But here, now that he's not teaching seven classes and two Danger Room sessions a day, he's got time to talk to me about actual stuff."
He paused for a minute. "Even Mom and Dad were so busy once they went back to the X-men, or reformed it, or whatever actually happened, that we all had to compete for attention, and it's hard to trump 'hey Mom, I can hear the thoughts of everyone in San Francisco, and it's kept me up all night.'"
He knew it was a stupid feeling, but it wasn't something he could help.