Submission

When Scott finds out that leaders can indeed be seen crying and still be respected, he adjusts accordingly.

Kitty had recorded it because she couldn’t believe it. She showed it to Jean because she still didn’t believe it after watching it fifteen times in a row.

“Wow,” Jean said. And, after the third view, “I was joking when I said Sara’s playing could make a statue cry, but - *damn*…”

She accidentally showed it to Rogue because she shoulder-surfed a lot.

Rogue told Kurt. Kurt told Hank. Hank told Ororo.

Rogue also told Jamie. It went viral from there. Or at least, as viral as viral could get while still trapped on Kitty’s phone.

Professor Xavier knew without having to be told. One of the advantages of being the world’s strongest telepath.

Thus, he was prepared when Scott came in to talk.

“Don’t worry about the negative effects of that video,” the Professor began. “You’ll find it sometimes advantageous to show your humanity.”

“How?” Scott wondered.

“Emotion is not evil,” Xavier counseled. “It is part of us and who we are. Leadership is a job, not a personality.”

Next training sim, he let himself ‘out’ a bit more. Showed his concern for his teammates. Let slip a little fear that they came to harm.

Amazingly, they tried all the harder for it.

It was like a miracle.

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When being the coward of the county works out well.

There’s always that one weirdo in every town. That’s me. I try not to let on, because this is redneck country, but I’m scared of just about everything. Fortunately, since redneck country is also survivalist country, nobody bats an eye at folks ordering food by the pallet. With GPS co-ordinates instead of a delivery address.

I don’t have a bank account. Not since I

When Julie dreams.

“Good morning, Miss Shayde!’

Shayde turned. The only person who could get away with ‘miss'ing her was skipping along with a peculiar little box in her hands and, as always, Nanny in tow.

"Good morning, Julie,” she said, tagging along because it was way more interesting than grocery shopping. “What’s in the wee box?”

Julie blushed and giggled. “It isn’t wee, it’s dreams.”

Dreams?