Flickers (Charles Xavier)

Prologue

1973

Iris stood before a mansion which looked as if it had once been beautiful, but the overgrown plants and leaves had caused it to look as if no one lived there, or had not done so for many years.

She checked the piece of paper that she had in her hands again to ensure that she had the address correctly. It certainly was, although it didn't look like it.

With a sigh, Iris shook her head- stuffing a small notebook and pen into her jacket pocket and closing her car door- and walked towards the house quickly.

Taking a deep breath, she held out her hand and knocked on the dark, heavy wooden doors. The sound resonated throughout the building, and she cringed slightly. She didn't want to disturb the people there.

After a moment, the door opened a crack, and a young man wearing a pair of glasses and a stripy jumper popped his head around.

"Hello," Iris offered a smile, but the man was staring at her with wide eyes. Slowly, she continued, "My name is Iris Miracle. I... I'm doing some research for a report and I wondered if I would be able to speak to someone here?"

The man opened the door slightly, his eyes still wide, "How did you... how did you find out about this place?"

Iris frowned, "I was looking through some old documents that I had and there was an old card tucked into some of them. So would I be able to have a talk with you or anyone else at the school?"

The young man frowned, and Iris noticed that there was a sadness in his eyes. She wondered if perhaps she had chosen a bad time to come when he opened the door even more.

"Is this a door-to-door kind of thing, or should I invite you in?"

Iris shrugged, "Whatever you are most comfortable with, Mr..."

The young man began to reply, pushing his glasses up his nose, but he was interrupted by a voice from the grand staircase in the centre of the hall.

"Hank, who is it at the door?"

A man who must have been slightly older than the one that Iris had been speaking to was walking down the stairs in a silk dressing gown with a glass of whisky in his hand. His light brown hair was long, covering his ears and parted in the middle.

When he saw the woman standing at the door, he froze.

"Iris?" He whispered softly.

Iris frowned in confusion, "Yes- hello. My name is Iris Miracle- I wondered if I could speak to someone here to help me with my research... How did you know my name?"

Hank spoke up quickly for the man frozen on the staircase, "He has pretty good hearing- he must have heard you from upstairs."

Iris nodded slowly, "So what are your thoughts? If you would rather that I left, then that would be-"

"What does your research entail?" The man on the stairs asked, having finally found the ability to speak again.

"Well..." Iris smiled, "I've been studying mutations- I find it all rather fascinating, you see. And when I was looking through some old files, I found this piece of paper with an address on it- this address. I simply wondered if it had anything to do with it."

"You've been studying mutations?" The man almost whispered, and Iris nodded.

"Indeed I have, Mr..."

The man cleared his throat, "Xavier. Charles Xavier."

Iris glanced around, "So this school is yours? That is impressive. Where are all of the students though?"

Charles closed his eyes, "With all due respect, Miss. Miracle, I'm not sure that you really have the right to come here- this is private property, you know."

Iris' blue eyes widened, "Oh dear- I am sorry. I was just intrigued by the school, that's all."

She watched as Charles took a large gulp from his glass before opening his eyes and shaking his head, "This school is closed now, and I do not answer questions from reporters. Researching mutations is not worth the time. Goodbye."

Her mouth dropped open, "But- it is more of a research article than a front page tabloid article, Mr. Xavier. I simply wondered if I could ask a few questions."

"This is not the right place to ask those questions-"

"I have been researching mutations for almost ten years! I cannot give up now-"

Charles took a deep breath, "Please," He sounded as though he were suppressing a sob, "Just leave."

Iris' face darkened, and she spun around, storming out of the house, "Have a nice day, gentlemen."

The moment she was gone, Charles threw his whisky glass onto the dark wooden floor and slumped against the banister, burying his face in his hands.

Hank rushed forwards, "Are you alright? That was unexpected. Charles- if I had known that it was her at the door, I wouldn't have answered it at all-"

"She looked at me," Charles whispered with a gulp, "She looked at me and she didn't even know me. I didn't realise how hard... how hard it would be, seeing her again."

Hank stared at Charles' head, concealed by the hair on either side, "She's gone now-"

"What have I done?" Charles whispered, finally raising his head and looking at Hank with wide, terrified eyes.

As Iris slammed out of the house, fists clenched in frustration, a car pulled up beside hers. She watched as a well-built man with dark hair wearing a leather jacket climbed out of the car. Iris walked towards him, pointing at the building behind her, "If you're here to see anyone at this school, don't bother. They clearly don't take to guests very well."

"I think I might just be able to turn that around," The man muttered, and Iris stared as he walked towards the building with a confidence that she wished she had.