"It's not boring," Ned says at once, indicating with a gesture that Charles should have a seat on the couch, while he goes to cut them their slices of pie. It's a quick job and in a minute he is returning with two slices of pie, on two small plates, and a fork for each of them. He hands Charles his and sits down, glad for the moment to think that fetching the food had given him.

"I think you should do it." Charles didn't ask his opinion, but he's going to give it all the same. Fervently. He doesn't know what kind of danger Charles might be referring to, or what kind of training, but those are minor and unimportant points to him. "If I'd known there were other people like me sooner... I mean, if I'd grown up around them..." he doesn't know how to finish that sentence. He'd be happier? More stable? Less of a tangled-up neurotic mess?

Ned prods the bright orange filling of his slice of pie, leaving gentle impressions of the fork's tines. "There have got to be plenty of mutant kids out there with no idea what they are and with nowhere else to go. If it's in your power to make a place for them... I don't see how you could bear not doing it."