Authors Note: This is my first Fan-Fic in about... 7 ish years, so please forgive me if I'm a bit rusty. Though I do hope that this is my best work to date. Please leave me a review after and if you like the story throw me a fav. I will hope to update at minimum monthly. Also, I have a DeviantArt page and I do have reference pictures for my OC in this story. I may also do fanart for this story if all goes well. If you would like to check out my DeviantArt here is the link: lilly-b-deadly. deviantart. com
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In this day, Mutants aren't unheard of. Children born with the mutant-X gene have strange and unbelievable powers that other 'normal' people lack. Charles Xavier created a special school for children like this, children born with that special X-gene. Some come to him, others brought to the school, not knowing about it, or having parents who still see these powers as something to be afraid of. Normally Ororo Munroe, also known as Storm, was the one sent to bring in these kids to the school. Soft-spoken to the scared children, but firm with the parents who would put up the fight. So, when Logan was the one called to Xavier's office, it came as a surprise.
"Do I really look like the best choice for this job?" Logan sneered as he crossed his arms across his firm barrel chest.
"Storm is already away and classes must go on, and I believe this needs your touch, Logan," Xavier explained as he pushed a piece of paper over to him across the desk. "From my understanding, you both may have some traits in common."
Logan's eyes shot over the paper, it was a picture of a young woman, and address, and a name. "This is all you got for me?" he mumbled, messily folding the paper and tucking it in his pocket. "So you want me to go all the way down to the other side of the east-coast and get this kid? Fine," grumbling he shrugged and walked out, not giving Xavier a chance to speak. Arguing with something the professor wanted usually never went in Logan's favor, so, he had stopped trying at this point. Besides, it also got him out of teaching for a couple of days.
It didn't take long for Logan to pack a bag, grabbing only what he really needed for a few days and to head out to his Truck. Driving from New York to Florida would be a long drive, and in the middle of summer, he would be thankful for the air-conditioning. Setting off right away, and stopping half way there to sleep and eat, he had made it to the little Town of Everglades City about 35 miles away from Naples by two in the afternoon the next day.
Arriving in this little town, little being an understatement, the first noticeable thing was that there wasn't anything noticeable. It was on the edge of the Everglades and a population of only about 500. This little fishing community would turn and stare at this new-comer into the small town his truck, thankfully, not standing out too badly against other large pickup trucks and run down cars.
Logan had some trouble finding the house that was tucked back on a long dirt side-road, plenty of 'no trespassing' signs all around. The hot muggy weather even causing a sweat on his brow already and the smell of vegetation and swamps nearby would invade his nostrils as he stopped.
The home he stopped in front of looked like a trailer, one that had a rickety looking porch built on the front and a shed in the back. There was a large run-down camo truck parked out front with mud covering it and plenty of empty beer cans in the back. As he stepped out of his truck the screen door of the trailer had opened and a man with a gun came out yelling. "Better get back in that truck boy!" The man was obviously stumbling now as he came out the front of the screened in porch the door slamming closed behind him.
Logan could only glare as he stood there, a shotgun pointed right at him and he hadn't even been there ten minutes. "I don't want any trouble," he said gruffly as he didn't make a move watching the man try and stay upright.
"I said, git! Ain't you listen' to me boy!" The man slurred, the smell of beer and cheap cigarettes reeking from him. His hair was heavily greyed and his face scruffy like he hadn't shaved in days.
"I'm here to see Laura, Laura Grey, are you her father?" Logan asked, ignoring the man's slurs, and trying to ignore the smell. 'This must be what hillbilly-hell is like', was all that he could think.
"I'm warn-"
"Get back in the damn house" a young woman's voice came from around the side of the house and getting closer.
The same girl from the picture was walking up, but she looked a good bit older than in the photo, which must have been at least 4 or 5 years old. Her hair was down and messy, the roots and bangs were all white while the rest was a cool chestnut color. She wasn't dressed like she really belonged there either. Her eyes dark like she was wearing heavy eyeliner and eyeshadow with two lip piercings on either side of her lower lip. Her pants were black and baggy with rips and tears throughout, and a tight tank top that showed she had two tattoos, one on her right upper arm, and the other on her left forearm.
Turning the older man looked to her lowering his gun as he spat on the ground. "Watch your damn mouth. You don't tell me what to do girl," he said as his attention started back to Logan, raising his gun again. But before he could fully the young woman grabbed the barrel and yanked it, with ease, from the drunk man's hands. "I got this daddy," she said firmly. But this time, the man didn't say anything back as he turned and stumbled his way back to the house.
Logan was unamused, and starting to feel like this was a waste of time, raising a brow as he looked to the young woman starting to realize that around her eyes were really just that dark, and her skin was strangely pale. "I'm looking for Laura Grey," he said calmly trying to get this back on track.
"Yeah, that's me. What do you want?" she asked as she was unloading the shotgun, stuffing the shells in her pocket.
"My names' Logan, I'm from Xavier's school of the gifted... for people like us," he said trying to be rather smooth about the whole matter.
The young woman's face slowly dropped some as she bit at her lip piercings, they clicking against her teeth. "Look, Logan was it? I don't know what you're talking about, I'm not even in school anymore." She said quietly, much more calmly and with less of an accent then the man had spoken with.
"I wouldn't be here for no reason. So, this is your chance to do something with your gift," Logan was reaching, he didn't know what her mutation was so just saying this he was going out on a limb for the right reaction.
"Gift?" she growled. "Then you're for sure in the wrong place," she said obviously starting to lose her cool.
"Look, this school can help you with whatever is going on," he said looking to her unsure if he really was the right person for this.
There was a long pause, Laura looking in deep thought before she nodded and motioned with her chin for him to follow her. "Come on in the house, I'll get you a beer," she mumbled as she headed up the porch.
As he followed her in, the porch was falling apart and inside wasn't much better. It looked like it had been well loved at one point, photos on the walls and nick-nacks on the shelves but all of it was dusty now. The older man was sitting in a large recliner, beer in his hand and cigarette in his mouth while watching some hunting show on the tv.
Laura walked past him to walk around the bar that was behind him to get to the kitchen, not saying anything to the man who was obviously her father. But as Logan passed by he grunted in disapproval and hollered back at her without looking away. "Don't be giving him any of my damn beers."
But, instead of listening to him she pushed some papers and old mail to clear a spot at the small round kitchen table behind the bar and set a beer bottle down for Logan as she sat down in the chair next to him, in a spot that looked like it was already slightly cleared off.
The whole home smelled of old beer, cigarettes, and just overall musty and stale. It would bother anyone's nose, but Logan was accustomed to this with old dive bars he used to regular. Also, seeing as the school normally didn't have any beer, he was willing to accept a beer, even a cheap one like this.
"So, about this school," she said, not taking anything to drink herself, crossing her arms over her chest. "Why come all the way down here for a personal invite?"
Logan took a moment, drinking from the bottle before looking to her, and glancing towards where the old man was, but the view was blocked by the bar in the middle of the room. "It's for people who aren't normal... Who have something special about them." He said quietly, not sure what the situation was.
"Special..." she mumbled in retort starting to bite at her piercings again, a nervous tick. "Look, special isn't what you call me and I don't need your pitty."
"It's not to pity you" Logan quickly came back, knowing how some students reacted to this in the first place.
"No? Then what is it? 'Cause A, I don't have the money for some fancy school and B, I'm not the kind of special you're looking for. Trust me" she said as she tapped her fingers on the table, still biting the piercings.
Logan paused, not sure how to go about this at the moment. Standing up he shrugged, "look whatever it is you think is so bad, the professors there can help. You can stay here if you like, or come try it out either way I'll leave town tomorrow." He reached into his jacket and laid a brochure onto the table in front of her as he started his way back out the door, after finishing his beer and leaving it on the table. This was what he thought may be the best course of action. He knew he wouldn't have wanted to go without thinking about it, and if she really didn't want to go, she wouldn't with all the talking in the world.
"If you're staying, the motel off Main street is the only place," she mumbled as she stood up tucking the brochure in her pocket and following him out. Her father giving a grunt as they passed in front of the tv, though he seemed to be half asleep the beer in his hand about to fall out.
Logan nodded as he got into his truck and glanced at her. Laura staying on the porch, arms crossed as she kept chewing at her lip piercings, not saying a word as he peeled out of the drive.