Disclaimer: The X-men aren't mine, nor are any of Shakespear's works. Note: Some of the spellings in this may be American English, while others may be British English. I'm sorry if that causes any problems to anyone.

My Savior
by
Tasha

I was born into a family of aristocrats. Blue-blood. We had old money and a lot of it. The Xaviers. My impressive and lengthy lineage can be traced back centuries to my ancestors, most of whom were some form of royalty or extremely affluent people in their day. Infact, I can barely imagine my mother's expression if she was to walk through our ancestral home to see it teeming with unruly teenagers, or that of my great-aunt, a formidable looking creature if she were to walk into her once elegantly furnished parlour, to find it converted into a game-room with a pool table.

Certainly, from a romantic or even a historical point of view, my family was clearly a fascinating one. From the view of a member of that family, I can say with perfect honesty that their customs and ideas of being above the average man repulse me.

My first and oldest student Jean Grey comes from a similar background - infact we are even related, - one of her great-great-great grandmother's third cousin having married my great-great grandfather's aunt's cousin twice removed. We also share a similar dislike for our ancestor's "holier than thou" attitudes which made them the powerful figures they were in their day.

Jean. She says I saved her from herself. If not for me, she would have been nothing. Just another comatose patient, so wrapped up in her own telepathy, that she would have been completely unaware of even her own surroundings. A lot of my students credit me with the same praise of having helped them. Saved them. Jean's case is however, the one which has stayed and will continue to stay imprinted in my memory for all time to come.

I can recall the day she came as clearly as if it had been yesterday. It was exactly two months after I had been paralyzed. I had been wallowing in self-pity those last few weeks and was disgusted with life and the raw deal I had been handed. My double doctorates, various degrees and money were of no use to me. They couldn't restore the use of my legs which was all I wanted.

I had no one in the world at that point and had been sitting in my office all by myself, mulling over my thoughts on how awful my life had become and how I now had nothing to live for. It was pouring outside. The lightening streaked across the sky and the thunder drum-rolled through the heavens as if warning people of some ominous incident coming to pass. To quote from Shakespear's 'Julius Caeser', there was clearly a "civil strife in heaven", and in the words of the conspirator Casca "I have seen tempests, when the scolding winds Have split the knotty oaks; and I have seen Th' ambitious ocean swell and rage and foam, To be exalted with the threat'ning clouds; But never till tonight, never till now, Did I go through a tempest dropping fire."

As for the last and final time, I considered what I felt was my only option in this world, I heard the familiar buzzing of the intercome which led to the gate. I switched it on to hear the pleading voice of Elaine Grey, Jean's mother. "Charles, I have my daughter here. Please Charles, look at her... please. I know you can help her - you're the only one..." Hear husband's voice joined her pleas. "Charles, we've known each other for seven years now... please try to help my daughter.. For our friendship, if for nothing else. Please you are our only hope... I beg of you... for Jean..." I could barely hear them above the storm, but could feel their distress and buzzed them in, postponing my thoughts for the time being, as I locked my bottle of sleeping pills into the bottom drawer of my desk and haven't looked at them since.

Jean calls me her 'savior'. The one who gave her her life back - who taught her how to live again. She says I'm responsible for everything she is today - she's told me countless times herself. The truth however, is entirely different. I never 'saved' Jean in any way. If it wasn't for her, I wouldn't be here today. Truth be told, I'm not Jean's messiah, nor am I her savior; she is mine.

I never saved her. She saved me.