Logan opened his eyes, and like most times in his life, he couldn't remember where he was. He sat up, rubbing his face hard, pressing into the eyesockets to relieve the pressure of panic setting in. No matter how fierce his heart, how endless his strength and nerve, that moment of displacement never failed to utterly terrify him. Sounds of footsteps drew him to the door, and he eased it open to see children heading toward the stairs with books and backpacks.
Right. The mansion. Any day he'd get used to that fact.
He shut the door as a group of kids peered curiously at him, or more likely at the eyeball that stared right back at them. It had been three days since he arrived here with Charles and he hadn't left the room since.
The stocky Mutant surveyed the bedroom, feeling out of place. He thought about Charles Xavier's offer, a room, food, and companionship...if he chose to join the X-Men. A pang of unertainty, or hunger, gnawed at his gut as he contemplated his options. Having a place to sleep was one less concern he needed, along with having steady meals. Companionship, he wasn't sure he needed, he had certainly gotten along this far without it...
The shower was hot, and he stayed standing under the water for a long time, hair in his eyes as these thoughts chased one another round and round. Sure he was a Mutant, he had these claws and the wounds he received always healed, but was this his fight? He knew he had met and fought others like him before, but that was purely territorial. Was he ready to shed the life of solitude and enter a new one, wholly complicated and new? The gnawing in his gut persisted-hunger won out as the source, and he stepped out of the shower, dressing in his usual jeans and t-shirt.
The size of the mansion seemed to grow as he descended the many flights of stairs, making sure to move with purpose even if he walked right into a broom closet. He was hungry, he could find the kitchen by himself.
"Finding everything all right,"a lilting South-African accent met his ears.
He turned around, the white-haired Black woman smiling benignly at him. It seemed almost like she was sizing him up.
"Yes," he glanced around, now confused with the maze of doors. If the damn woman hadn't stopped him he'd be halfway to breakfast by now.
"Kitchen is that way," she untucked one hand from the guarded pose across her chest to point him in the right direction.
Logan stalked off without thanking her, positive she had been sizing him up. He was moderately short, that was true, but he more than made up for it in every other way imaginable. The kitchen was devoid of children, and he ransacked the fridge, making one sandwich out of a full package of deli meat, four slices of cheese and mustard.
"Good to see you out, Logan."
He turned and jerked his head in acknowledgement to Charles before biting into the sandwich.
"I'd like to walk you around, we don't usually prolong someone's misery with a tour when they're half dead from exhaustion."
"I'm not a dog, Charlie, I can walk myself."
"We have classes in session," Charles offered by way of reason, no way out.
"Lead the way then, Wheels."
If Logan hadn't been so keen on learning every inch of the place, he would have been annoyed with the conversation the Professor was making every so often. But possibly that was the Professor's way of integrating him into polite society, good luck to him on that one. They left the mansion, and if the size of that was daunting enough, the expanse of land around them nearly made Logan impressed. Moving down the path, they came upon two students standing a few yards apart; the male had some sort of visor on his face, Logan vaguely remembered meeting him, and the female stood with her hand hovering above a table stacked with clay discs. Logan watched as the objects torpedoed toward Scott, a red light from the visor shattering each disc into powder.
"What the-" Logan muttered.
"Practice. Scott can-"
"Yeah yeah, I remember Laser Pointer. What about that one," he jerked his head toward the redhead.
"Jean Grey, telekinetic and telepath. Have you thought about my offer, Logan?"
"I don't know about joinin' ya, Charlie. Don't exactly play well with others," he smirked.
"It isn't what you're thinking, Logan. No one wants to tame you."
"In my head again?"
"You're not impossible to read, Logan. I wouldn't go into your mind unless I had just cause."
He hadn't realized he was staring, or that the redhead, Jean Grey, was staring back at him.
"There are some things-"
"I'll get my fun from women that can stay out on weeknights," Logan tore his eyes away to give Charles Xavier a piercing stare.
"Will you join us?"
"I'm your man, Charlie."