Chapter Text
"My daughter is DEAD you have tonight to pack your shit and leave," Your mother spat.
Fighting back the tears in your eyes, you pace up the stairs to your bedroom- grabbing the only tote bag you have and managing to slip as many clothes that'll fit in.
You knew your mother wouldn't be happy when she found your hidden testosterone stash; however, you didn't expect her to kick you out for it the same night you attended your college graduation. Returning from the dorms this year was hard, your transition more apparent to her. It could be denied no longer.
Letting out a sigh, trying to release the pain at the back of your throat, begging you to cry, you throw your bag over your shoulder and swiftly head down the stairs. Avoiding the judgmental eyes and rushing out the door.
You had heard about a youth/homeless shelter down the block, hidden out of view by tall pines. If they weren't at capacity, maybe they could get you back on your feet.
You walk up to a big white double door with a plaque "School for the gifted."
Oh... it's a school. Not a she—
The door flings open, and a hand grabs and jerks you within, slamming the doors behind you.
A deep voice consults, "You alright? Whose after ya?"
"N-no one now, my mom just kicked me out, I could have sworn I heard this was a shelter... not a school"
The tall mans darkened eyes examined you, furrowing his brow at you. You looked pretty normal to him, you must have been a converted mutant and chased out of your home because of it.
Whatever, duty calls.
"Lets go talk to Charles"
The hand that never left your shoulder tightened its grip and guided you in front of the man, as he walked you down the hall to a room. Who tf was Charles? Everything was moving too fast.
"Charles," the man called.
The doors opened to reveal an elderly man, bald, in a wheelchair. He wheeled concerned to you, took your hand and looked to the man to your side.
"Logan, give us a minute to get acquainted."
The doors shut. Charles, silent for a long moment.
"Ah, okay, I see. Young one, I am deeply sorry for the circumstances that led you here. We are a school for the outcasts of this world.. I have a feeling you will fit right in should you like to stay. You are welcome to."
Charles gently let go of your hand. How did he gather any information from briefly holding your hand in silence? Whatever, you had bigger things to worry about. He was probably a well-educated counselor who had dealt with your situation before.
"I'm sorry, sir, I don't have the funds for another degree. I'll just go and find a shelter; there must be one in town."
Charles listened to you, kindly
"Nonsense, child, this school is a sanctuary for all. Think of it as a shelter with some education benefits," Charles smiled and winked at you.
The door behind you opened,
"Did yah say I had a class to teach or what?" Logan protested, looking past you to Charles.
"Change of plans, Logan, our friend here will be staying with us. Would you mind giving him a tour of the mansion?" Charles said, nodding to you.
You turned to see Logan's reaction. You assumed he was a professor.
"Uh- yeah, sure." Logan seemingly wanted to protest, but forced a polite smile towards you and motioned out to the hallway. You stepped forward, into the hallway, and to the side, allowing Logan plenty of room.
Logan sighed, his emotions unclear, shutting the door behind him. He began walking down the hall, periodically checking to make sure you were following. Your eyes darted around the mansion. This must have been a very high-end college; you wondered why you had not been familiar with it.
"Charles read your mind?" Logan spoke, more or so stating it rather than asking.
"Seemed like he did." you replied, not entirely sure what he had meant.
The two of you continued throughout the mansion, Logan showing you the classrooms, dorms, and commodities. You heard children playing, laughing. You suppose the college must have a daycare unit for students who have kids. Once he had shown you everything, you had noticed the sun starting to set.
"Hungry?" Logan turned to face you.
"Yeah, I can eat." You had been too anxious to eat a proper meal recently. Logan wandered into the cafeteria, you both made an order, carrying your trays to an empty table and sat down.
"So what subject do you teach?" You asked, starting to eat.
"Anything Charles tells me to," Logan replied, not looking up from his plate. The school board dynamic was odd to you, but who were you to judge?
"Who is the dean?" You asked for directions on who to ask about a dorm room or a class schedule.
"Uh- Charles, you could say. If you'd ask me, I would say Jean," Logan smirked. You remembered the polite woman you had met earlier. You could have sworn she said she was studying under Charles.
"Who do I talk to about where to stay? Or classes? I don't want to get in trouble," You asked, noticing the lack of paperwork. Charles had never asked for your name, age, prior education or anything of the sort. You felt at a loss.
Logan looked up from his plate, narrowing his eyes at you for a solid minute while he chewed.
"No rules- and as for classes-" Logan paused, picking up his fork then resuming eye contact. "Just go wherever you want. Help whoever you want."
You nodded, finishing your food. This sure was some free-range education.
After eating, Logan guided you up the stairs to the dorm rooms, where he pointed out his room and the empty one beside it. They were conjoined via a door. You walked into your room, it was small but comfortable and clean. You set your single tote bag down on the bed, taking a moment for a deep breath to clear the bad memories of this morning. You had yet to process everything.
Deep in your thoughts, you pulled out the contents of your bag, hanging your clothes up into the closet and opting to switch to a more comfortable shirt for the night. Still facing the bed, you take your shirt off and throw it down on the bed, going to grab the clean one. You turned around and nearly jumped out of your skin-
"JESUS fuck, Logan! You don't knock?" You startled at the man standing in front of you, deep in your thoughts, you neglected to hear the door open.
"Holy shit, what kind of mutant are you?" Logan asked with concern, studying the tape on your chest. Mutant? God, and you thought you had already been called every name under the sun. Apparently not.
"Are you fucking kidding me? Here I thought this place was accepting. You know what? I can leave."
"The fuck you on about?"
You swallowed. "You just-" your voice stalled. "You said mutant."
Logan frowned, like that was the most obvious thing in the world. "Yeah. I did."
"I'm not-" you cut yourself off, heat crawling up your neck.
He looked you over again, slower this time. "Kid, if you were human, you wouldn't be here."
"You mean it literally?"
"You thought I was callin' you somethin' else?"
You didn't answer. Your fingers curled tighter into the fabric of your shirt.
He watched you for a second, then sighed through his nose, "Wasnt."
Silence stretched between you.
"Mutant means mutant," he added, voice rough but steady, "Aint an insult here."
Suddenly it clicked and everything made sense. He really meant mutant.
This was a disguised shelter for mutants. Charles... he really did read your mind didn't he?
"Logan. I'm uh.. I'm really not a mutant. I'm human."
Logan studied you some more, looking a little puzzled. The bandages reminded him of when he had been experimented on.
"You must be special if Charles accepted a human in," Logan attempted to lighten the mood.
"No.. not special. Just fucked up."
"Aren't we all?" Logan offered with a chuckle.
Logan shut the door connecting the rooms. You listened to his steps shuffle around and his weight land down on his bed, the springs groaned and compressed.
Damn.. he sounded heavy. He looked perfectly human on the outside... hell they all did. Everyone you had met did, despite Logan just implying you were the only human in the school. No one had threatened you or tried to hurt you. You deemed the mutants nowhere near as cruel as the media had portrayed them to you.
Hell, if anything humans were the cruel ones. Your mind lingered on the days earlier pain, having to flee the only home you'd ever known. Maybe you had found a place where you could belong. If everyone in the school was a mutant, it would be the first time in your life you were the least unusual person. You settled into the bed, the warmth of sleep approaching you. Things will get better.