xp_logs | Flashpoint

The staff sits down to 'talk' about things. Takes place before Emma leaves for Maine.

"A review board. How terribly democratic of you, Charles. I haven't
testified in front of an oversight committee in ages." Essex said
casually, hands in the pockets of his trousers. "It never seems quite
right without Senator Roberts frothing at the mouth, does it?"

"Nathan, this isn't a time for jokes." Charles said sharply, ignoring
the amused snort from Wisdom. His office was full to nearly bursting
with the various faculty of the school crammed in. He had called the
meeting before Emma was scheduled to leave with Sarah and Jono,
partially because he wanted her input, and partially because he needed
the school to be united in any decision. Over the last few weeks, it
had become apparent that something needed to be done about Doctor
Nathaniel Essex.

Charles cursed luck for bringing things to this situation. He still
considered Essex to be a friend, but his actions in the school had
brought them to loggerheads. Why couldn't he see what the X-Men were
there for; as a force of good in the world. Yet Essex saw them as a
mutant militia, painted with the same stripes as the Brotherhood. His
knowledge, research and connections were invaluable to the school, and
oddly enough, he seemed to have acquired loyal defenders in some of the
students. So why did it have to come to this?

Charles sighed. Some things are not about right and wrong, but about
what was best. He gazed sternly at Essex, no hint of the inner turmoil
on his face. "There are a great many questions that we don't have
satisfactory answers for, Nathan. This way, we can put everyone's fears
to rest."

"Indeed." Essex took a seat across from the desk, leaning on the arm of
the chair. To his right, across a small side table sat Alison Blaire,
looking extremely uncomfortable to be in the study. Scott Summers stood
stiffly behind Xavier, like Charles' man at arms. Hank McCoy stood
beside him, flipping through a thick sheaf of papers. Beside the desk
sat, Ororo Monroe, her blue eyes cold with fury and locked on Essex.
Emma Frost sat at the small couch to the left of Essex, a hair from
lounging and matching the good doctor's casual attitude. Beside her was
Moira MacTaggart, still red eyed from her illness. Pete Wisdom stood
against the wall by the door, sipping from a glass and occasionally
scowling. Essex noted with interest that the Englishman did not look
comfortable with the entire situation.

"Well, Charles, I see that the court is all here. So," Essex smiled
thinly. "Who's first?"

"This meeting is about you defending your actions, Dr. Essex. It would
only seem fair for you to start." Ororo retorted.

"What actions would those be, Miss Monroe? I have already dealt with
this nonsense. The only true question is why you are keeping me from my
patient?"

Hank raised his hand in protest, "We're not keeping you from your
patient, Nathan. We only wish to hear your point of view. Recent
events, as Ororo has stated, have not given us the chance to formally
discuss what has transpired these past few months."

"The reason that we have not formally discussed this, Miss Monroe, is
that it really isn't any of your business. You are neither Miss
Braddock's next of kin nor her attorney. As Miss Braddock choose to
keep her surgery from you, I can't imagine that she would want to
involve you in the decision making process of her recovery either.
McCoy and Charles have the medical reports from the lab. If they wish
to share those with you, they may."

Ororo cut in, "Their medical reports are inconclusive as to why Betsy
has not regained consciousness under your care and ego." She stressed
the last words. "There is little room for debate, besides finding a way
to revive Betsy but under no means will she be removed from this
school."

"Then you will be responsible for the death of your colleague, Miss
Monroe." Essex said, almost sounding bored.

"Neurosurgery is dangerous. Extensive neurosurgery is more dangerous.
This school's labs, as exceptional as they are, cannot handle the kind
of surgery that Miss Braddock now requires. If you do not release Miss
Braddock, I will be forced to examine legal means."

She motioned to Scott, Emma, and Hank. "Of course not. We care about
Betsy more than you do. To you, she's a sign of your failure that must
be rectified at all costs. To us, she's apart of our team, our family.
What does Betsy mean to you, Essex? Nothing."

"Ms. Braddock is my patient, Miss Monroe. She has entrusted her health
to me. I don't see what she's entrusted to you." Essex snapped. "Unless
one of you happens to have been given power of attorney by Ms.
Braddock, then your opinions matter very little. What you are in the
process of doing now is killing her through your ignorance."

"Betsy's recovery is of the utmost importance, but the means for her
recovery proves too dangerous and exposes us at a critical time." Hank
said, taking off his glasses as he looked at the reports in front of
him. "Though, I'm curious to find out what your plans can possibly do
for Betsy? Honestly, I don't see how it's even possible."

"Henry, you are a brilliant bio-chemist, but this is not bio-chemistry.
We are looking at extensive neurological grafting and augmentation. The
best analogy is that we need to replace a jet's engine piece by piece
while it is still flying." Essex said. "Johns Hopkins and Walter Reed
are both restricted to us, and the only facility with both the trained
personnel and the equipment is Ft. Dix."

"I can understand simple terms well enough, Nathan." Hank replied.
"But, how can you possible replace certain parts of her psionics
without causing irreparable harm to her central nervous system and
higher brain functions. It's close to impossible, not to mention the
fact you wish to graph another psionics network within her mind. The
repercussions alone...." Hank closed the files in front of him, "it's
too risky."

"That's your opinion, Doctor. One that you are no where near qualified
to make." Essex said, a final tone of dismissal in his voice. McCoy had
experienced the same sorts of struggles before, common in sciences
where conflicting models often spill out on to the convention floors.
His frustration grew, knowing that in the strictest sense of the word,
no matter how brilliant or skilled he was, Nathaniel Essex was one of
the leading voices in the field, and most would support Essex before
him. He was sure that this was not the way to help Betsy, but the
moment the argument expanded outside of this office, his position was
already lost.

"Speaking of qualifications, Doctor, you did bring a teenager in as
your sole medical support. Was Kitty qualified?" Scott said.

"Bringing Kitty into the operation was criminal, Dr. Essex." Ororo
added sharply, and her looks curdled into a scowl as Essex dismissed
the comment with a wave of his hand.

"Don't be ridiculous. Ms. Pryde was more than capable."

"She's a fifteen year old girl, Doctor, in case you've forgotten."
Scott rebuked. "It's unfair to lay that responsibility on her."

"Ah, but combat tactics and natural disaster rescue, these are the
normal routine for the young? Don't bother with that drivel, Summers.
You all have been putting these children in harms way since I have
arrived, age be damned."

"She's not old enough to make those kinds of decisions!"

"Neither are you." Essex shot back.

"Why Kitty, Nathan? Why no one of the staff, like Hank." Moira spoke
up.

"Ms. Braddock wouldn't hear of it. She didn't trust the others to
respect her decisions." A shocked reaction rippled through the staff.
"She also wouldn't leave the mansion. It left me very few options."

"Kitty is not old enough to be performing surgery!" Ororo said. "Any
fool can see that a teenager shouldn't be operating on people."

"We could always ask how the lass did first." Moira said pointedly.
"Nathan?"

"Ms. Pryde performed her tasks flawlessly. Especially in the field of
computers, I'd say she was at least ten years ahead of where she should
be." Essex said quietly. "My duty as a doctor is to find the very best
support for my patient. That was Ms. Pryde. You want me to admit that
my greatest crime was in trusting an unusually bright and talented
young woman with a job that few save her could perform best, I will
agree to your demands. I am guilty of not treating Ms. Pryde like an
idiot child. Are we all suitably mollified now?"

Wisdom snorted at the cutting sarcasm, and even Moira looked away to
hide the sudden smile. The rest of the room seemed far from amused and
their scowls deepened as Emma laughed and began a slow round of
applause.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I was just enjoying the theater. Bravo, Dr Essex,
bravo." Emma ignored the dark look from the doctor. "And here I thought
this was going to be a tedious afternoon."

"Oh, but we treat her as an idiot child by allowing her to use her
gifts to help others?" Scott said, ignoring Emma's laughter.

"No. You treat her like a pawn. A trainee. A new recruit to the cause."
Essex said. "All of them, in fact."

"You had no right to put that kind of pressure; that immense
responsibility on her shoulders." Scott said, his voice rising.

"I didn't, Summers. As you are too blind to see, I gave her a choice.
She took on that responsibility. I gave her every warning and all of
the information for her to make a decision. I see none of that in your
little recruiting drives." Essex countered.

"That brings us back to the students, Nathan." Xavier said, sighing.
"You are fueling all kinds of fears for them, from being controlled
like my puppets to being made into soldiers. Fears that do not have any
basis."

"Right. I'm not looking to leap to the doc's defense, but it's a bit
fucking dodgy to start attacking him based on his opinion." Wisdom said
suddenly, moving off the wall. "I'm not saying he isn't a special kind
of pain in the arse, but the fact is: we *are* hiding a criminal and
telling the other kids that 'it's alright, we know what's best' which
really doesn't give us anything like the moral high ground. And the
whole bloody school does it's best to show what a fucking great thing
being an X-Man is. You know how impressionable the little bastards are.
Essex' pissing and moaning about a bloody conspiracy ain't right, but
he does have a point. No-one else is doing much to balance their
views."

"That's absurd." Storm said. "None of these children are being coerced
into anything. John is a special case. He made a mistake."

"Fuckwits who make 'mistakes' like that are called terrorists in the
real bloody world. If Magneto had been operating on British soil, I'd
have been ordered to lift the little fuck as soon as he waltzed back in
here, and I know a few people over here that'd love to talk to him
about what he was up while he was palling around with Lehnsherr.
Luckily, I'm in a good mood lately, but that and the fact that I'm out
of job at the moment is all that's keeping Allerdyce out of some very
bloody hot water. So let's be clear about that before we go issuing the
little bastard with his very own 'get out of jail free' card." Wisdom
shot back. Storm stopped, stunned by the viciously aimed rebuke.

"John will not get the proper therapy or a chance at a fair trial
outside of this school. I agree that mutants cannot be above the
rules-"

Very few heard Emma mutter "Can't they?" under her breath.

"-but we cannot deliver him to a witch hunt either." Charles said
firmly. "His situation is also not the point here. Nathan, You are
making them doubt being here."

"Why wasn't Miss Morlocke helped from the being on controlling her
powers? Any fool can see that she is psychological troubled, and the
pain and ostracism of her mutation was pulling her down a violent path.
The only true interaction I have seen is to take her on a military
operation, an action sure to fuel her rage." Essex stood up, addressing
the room at large. "How many explosions does Mister Starsmore require
to receive proper attention? He's nearly killed two people by losing
control. The response so far has been to give him a basic exterior
control and ignore any true psionic training. Save for a para-military
mission which required the use of the most violent aspect of his
powers. Miss Colbert received a great deal of opposition for being a
pacifist. Your Rogue killed a young mutant, and has received the barest
of counseling. I hope they doubt being here. You've sold them on
teaching them to control their powers, and have instead pushed them
towards finding ways to use them in combat situations."

"You're ignoring the circumstances of the world around you, Doctor."
Scott said. "Maybe if you came out of your lab you would notice that.
We're not trying to make these kids into soldiers, but there are those
who consider them as part of a war. They have to know at least how to
protect themselves."

"Your idea that fighting toe-to-toe with those who would destroy them
is 'protecting' themselves is absurd, Summers. Teach them to control
their powers so they can hide, lead ordinary lives if they wish. You
want them in the open, and I will tell you now, against the forces the
governments can bring against you, you will lose. Don't martyr them
with you."

"There are no 'martyrs' here, Nathan. Unfortunately, there is a
complete inability to see what is happening in the world. We wish to
change the system, but not sacrifice mutant after mutant to show trials
and violence doing so in the normal channels" Xavier said. "They will
be protected here, as we work on bringing humanity and mutantkind
closer to an understanding. Those children will be the first to show
humanity that mutations can be a gift, not just to the mutant, but to
everyone."

"Or you will show them that the laws don't apply because they're only
human laws, after all."

"Enough." Xavier slammed his palm down on his desk. "That is quite
enough of... that, Nathan."

"That is what will end them, Charles. You have no idea what these
governments will do if they feel threatened, and what resources they
can muster." Essex said cryptically.

"Only more reasons to be ready." Scott said dismissively.

"Doctor," Emma Frost interjected a note of boredom in her voice.
"Whatever your actions or your views, the problem that remains, for me,
is that your whole attitude since arriving at this school has been
divisive and even hostile. You may not agree with Charles' methods, but
your insistence on conducting yourself as if you were answerable to
no-one is entirely unsuited to this environment."

"In an environment dedicated to teaching children that they are
answerable to no one, Miss Frost." Essex' voice was cold and hard. "You
have no purpose in mind, other than some vague idea of 'protection' and
'defense'. In that manner, you've chosen to create a terrorist group
above the law, and are trying to teach children how to join. The
Militias for Christ in the South have the same policies, I believe.
Because your cause is just, no law may apply."

"Don't be stupid, Doctor." Emma snapped back. "Grasping at thin
comparisons is all well and good, but you know that simply isn't the
case."

"Isn't it?" Essex said. "You've got the disfranchised and the orphaned
here, and programs designed to turn them into weapons. That failed for
you once before, Miss Frost. I don't care to see these children on the
pyre."

Anger flared in Emma's eyes, but her voice maintained the same smooth
certainty. "Your facts are incorrect, Doctor. Without appropriate
schooling, you will see them on your grim pyre for certain."

"Maybe--" Alison started, but was cut off by Essex.

"I'm not so easy to manipulate telepathically, Miss Frost. Don't expect
to remove my doubts like you do with the students." The temperature in
the room seemed to drop sharply, as Essex voiced his suspicions.

"Nathan!" Xavier interrupted sharply. "There has never been any
telepathic manipulation of the students at this school. Ever." Everyone
in the room had at one point or another secretly wondered if perhaps
one of the psionics might have made them do something they normally
wouldn't. All had come to the final decision that even if someone might
have wanted to, Xavier would not and would not allow anyone else to.
However, that secret fear still lingered, and Essex' charge had exposed
that concern.

Emma smiled and looked Essex straight in the eye. "You are a fool."

"That remains to be seen."

"This topic of conversation is closed." Xavier said, and the two men
glared at each other a moment before Essex nodded.

"Very well. Shall we get back to Ms. Braddock's case then?"

"Betsy's safety is the most important thing. If she trusted Doctor
Essex with her life," Scott started, obviously fighting his own doubts.
"Then we owe it to her to trust him with her recovery."

One eyebrow raised in surprise on Essex' forehead. The absolute last
person he ever expected to hear was Scott Summers coming to his
defense. The next few sentences drove that thought clearly from the
room.

"I also agree that Betsy cannot be removed from the school. Especially
not to a military facility. There's not telling what could happen
there. Betsy authorized Doctor Essex to operate on her in the mansion.
As Doctor Essex himself has said, she repeatedly refused to take
treatment at another installation. We must respect her wishes."

"Good lord, man. Do you not realize that keeping her here will kill
her?" Essex blurted out, and the room was slightly stunned. It was the
fist ripple they had ever seen in Essex' impenetrable veneer.

"No, I don't think so. Hank says that she is stable, at the very least.
It's only a matter of time before the Professor or Emma breaks through
the psychic barrier and--"

"Summers, you don't have the slightest clue what you are talking about.
Betsy Braddock is physically stable, but her neurological readings are
slowly deteriorating."

"The readings fluctuate, true, but that is common in all telepaths."
Beast spoke up. "The natural ebb and flow of the physic landscape
around them. Research has shown that changes of up toe an eighth of a
degree are possible in a very short period."

"Doctor McCoy, use your brain. Braddock is not ebbing. She has no
psychic reception at all."

"Charles thinks differently, Doctor Essex. I'll trust his judgment
before I'll trust yours."

"Yes. That's how you conveniently eliminated your last girlfriend,
Summers. Sure you want to do the same to your current girlfriend?"
Essex snapped. There was an audible gasp from Alison, and spots of
colour rose on Storm's cheeks. Summers' face was grim, and his eyes
behind the glasses must have been blazing with fury.

"Don't even..." Storm hissed.

"Don't even what?" Essex scoffed. "Mention his penchant for telepaths?
Doctor Jean Grey may have sacrificed herself as a martyr to the cause,
but you're dooming Ms. Braddock to a slow, lingering death..."

"Enough, Nathan." Charles cut in; quiet, but firm, and raising a hand,
as if to stop Scott from launching himself at the doctor. Summers'
fists were clenched tightly, knuckles white. "Jean made her own
choices, and Scott's relationship with Ms. Braddock is not the issue."

"Ms. Braddock made her own choices as well, Charles. Yet you see fit to
interfere with those." Essex said. Behind him, Wisdom actually nodded.

"Yes, we have your word on it. Who knows what you told her, Essex?"
Storm said. "If you had properly explained the dangers of the
operation, Betsy would have talked to someone first. You manipulated
her into your quack experiment, and then botched it up and put her into
a coma! Why didn't she tell anyone?" Outside, dark clouds were starting
to roil around the mansion.

"Point of fucking fact, sunshine, she did tell someone she was having
surgery, she just didn't tell *you*. I knew about it." Wisdom said. "I
don't know if that's what has your pants in a twist, but she trusted
me. According to her, Essex did his best to talk her out of it."

Moira nodded. "Nathan can be many things, true. Dinna think I don't
know how unlikable he can be when he wants t'. But not in fifteen years
of my professional relationship with the man have I ever seen him
violate the rights of his patients to know the bloody risks. If ye
canna believe it was Betsy' decision only, then someone else was the
cause. Nathan would never have forced her."

"Was there some reason that Braddock would risk the surgery?" Wisdom
asked. Scott looked suddenly concerned, as if an unwelcome thought had
entered his head. "Good. Then it was her choice."

"Regardless," Storm pushed on, as rain began to splatter against the
windows. "Betsy can not be taken to a military hospital. Essex cannot
be allowed to operate on her again. As Hank said, his idea is
impossible. We have two of the best telepathic minds in the planet here
that can help bring Betsy back."

"I have-uh, had," Alison corrected, "a link with Betsy. I'm happy to
work with you if it helps."

"A rapport could serve as a valuable map past Betsy' defenses. Thank
you, Alison." Xavier said warmly.

"It will not work." Essex said, as if explaining something to a
particularly slow child.

"I believe that Betsy's best chances for recovery should be through
telepathic therapy, not further surgery. We will keep you informed
every step of the way, Nathan. I understand your concern."

"You cannot be serious." Essex said coldly.

"As for the rest, Betsy will not be moved from the mansion. At least
not for now. If in the future things change in her condition, we can
examine more dangerous opinions, but while there are other safer
possibilities, we have to explore them."

"By that time, it will be too late. Charles, don't do this." Essex
said, his fury and desperation caught on the razor edge of his control.
"This is a mistake."

"You were the mistake, Doctor Essex." Storm quipped. Essex's stare
slipped from Xavier to her, those cold eyes meeting her pure white
orbs. Outside, the rain lashed the house and rumbles of thunder built.
Like a steel door slamming shut, the almost manic intensity was lost
behind utter ice and control. Nathaniel Essex straightened up and laced
his fingers behind his back.

"Very well, Professor Xavier. Is that the end of this little meeting?"

"Not entirely." Charles said, his voice firm. "From this point on, any
medical issues that arise in this mansion will have you involved, but
all procedures and therapies will be under the final review of Doctor
McCoy. You may advise courses of action, but Henry will make the final
decisions on what and how to implement them."

"Doctor, we especially hope you will help us develop alternative
strategies for Betsy's recovery." Emma said, but Essex gave no reaction
of hearing her.

"That includes any assistance with training on powers or techniques,
Nathan. Both Scott and Ororo will review your training plans and
authorize what may be taught. All of your training must be under
controlled conditions. I won't see a student being hurt if we can avoid
it."

"Indeed." Essex's dead voice chilled some of the room, and awoke
worried concerns in others.

"Finally, outside of the classroom, for the time being, you are not to
have independent contact with the students without another staff member
present. I will not have you undermine what we are trying to do here,
Nathan. Your value and abilities are immense; no one challenges that.
And your viewpoints should be heard-" Wisdom gave a snort of amusement
in the background. "But these children cannot be put in the position of
doubting our words and intentions, or we cannot hope to protect them."

"I see. So, I am to assume the role of a silent science advisor, on
call as such. And if I refuse?"

"Then I will have you removed from the school."

"And Ms. Braddock?"

"I believe that Emma is meeting with her brother during her retreat. It
will be his decision which therapy he prefers for his sister." Xavier
said. "Nathan, I regret this terribly, but your actions have brought us
to this."

"Very well. I expect to see the paperwork on any transfer of care as
soon as it is processed. If Ms. Braddock's brother chooses not to go
with this manner of treatment, I will be available to resume competent
care of Ms. Braddock."

"Nathan, don't." Moira said. "Charles, this is nae the right decision."

"It is the only one we have, Moira. I'm sorry." Charles said. "Nathan,
please consider-"

"I refuse your limitations, Professor Xavier. I challenge that this
institution is little more than a recruiting centre for soldiers in
your private army and the fools at your sides are proof of your
indoctrination. I challenge that you have betrayed your own professed
ethics and, in collusion with your lackeys, have sentenced a young
woman to death." Essex said, his voice so flat, one might think he was
reading from a phone book. "I refuse your madness, Professor."

Charles locked eyes with Essex for a final time, and saw nothing in
those eyes but a steely wall. "If that is your decision, Doctor Essex.
Henry, if you could escort the doctor to his lab and assist him with
the packing of his samples and work. I am assuming that Pygmalion will
send a team to take possession of them at a later date. Make sure that
he does not remove any of the programs running from Muir."

"Professor, I'm sure that this is not necessary."

"I disagree, Doctor McCoy." Essex said. "It is very necessary."

"Scott, if you would go with Henry." Charles' voice hardened. "Knowing
Doctor Essex, I doubt he brought more than a few bags worth of personal
items to his rooms here. Help load them into his car, and be sure to
cancel his security access. Do not let him speak to any of the
students. In fact, it would be better if they did not see him at all.
Doctor Essex, I trust that covers everything."

"Quite, Professor Xavier. There is one thing." Essex said, a knife-like
smile slashed across his pale face. "If any of these students end up
hurt or worse, I will personally see to it that Lehnsherr’s cell has a
new occupant. I trust I am being clear?"

"Goodbye, Doctor Essex." Essex took a final look around the room before
turning and walking out, Scott and Hank at his heels. The silence in
the study was oppressive, and mixed in with the relief in some of Essex
being gone, was the concern of others that they just may have watched a
new threat walk away. The doors swung close, and with them, the final
image of Essex was suddenly gone.