A/N: I rewrote this because of obvious mistakes and some stuff I wanted to add more in description of the story. Just one of those "I look back on my old work and cringe because of how awful it kind of sounded" things. To those of you new to the story, don't worry about it, you didn't miss anything.
I wanted to write this story because I decided that some of the X-Men movies were a bit off their rocker, especially with timelines and shit because that stuff just gets derailed. Did you notice that in the X-Men: First Class that there was an old Stryker guy, but then in the X-Men: Days of Future Past there was a young version of it? Yeah, that just left me in befuddled confusion, and it made me wonder if it had to be a son taking over his father's work or the directors just missed it completely. So, timelines are weird but my story is going to be the one that fixes the situation so it will ALL make sense (I hope).
How, you must be wondering?
Well, let's just say that in this fanfic, the first X-Men film starts in the year 2010 (where Hugh Jackman is a lovely older beefcake). Thank you, and enjoy this new chapter I've set up for you.
The dunes stretched far and wide, like an orange sea that moved too slow as the high winds changed its shape as if a wave rolled across the surface of the earth. Tiny grains that sunk easily between toes and fingers, the minerals both within grasp yet far fetched as they always disappeared from the open palm that held them.
We were the sand.
Always there, the winds shaping and changing everything as it carried on, but we remained the same throughout the reshaping of the land. We would weave ourselves through the Fingers of Life, but we held ourselves the same no matter as time continued to move forward...
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:]IMMORTALS[:
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"—so, contrary to popular belief, Benjamin Franklin wasn't some boring old man printed on your beloved one hundred dollar bill, but was actually a brilliant-minded man who was known to think ahead of things and create inventions that we now take full advantage of."
I turned towards the class, all the students perked at attention as they dutifully took notes of one of the Sons of Liberty to review and utilize in their upcoming quiz. Children were usually bored when it came to the multiple subjects of class (in this case, History), but if someone used the subject in the correct way to make it intriguing enough to kick start the brain power of the students, well then...
"I can't believe this ol' dude's a skirt-chaser..." someone in the far back snickered, and it resulted in room full of giggling little twits.
"Alright, enough!" I clapped my hands, but the quirking at the corner of my lips betrayed me. "Focus more on the ol' dude's inventions and less about his love life."
This only caused more laughter.
I smiled as I watched every boy, girl, and thing in the room laugh with lightness shining in their mirthful eyes. I could remember majority of the students in my class arriving to the school with blank, dull, frightened, rejected, and angry eyes when they started out their first rocky days in Xavier's School for Gifted Children. Most of them lashed out like cornered animals, scared of being hurt for being so different because of their powers (or in some cases, their obviously physical mutations), but over time, as they spent more with people who shared the same experiences as they had, they began to found a place and home for themselves.
This was the safe haven every one of them needed when the rest of the world treated them like outcasts, freaks, and monsters.
"Cole," I pointed to a blond-haired teen, said boy snapping and accidentally letting out a spark from the surprise of being singled out. "Would you like to tell me what was one of the inventions that Franklin created to help benefit the colony?"
"Uhh," the flustered boy quickly flipped through his journal, looking for a clue in his notes.
Before the boy had a chance to answer at all, there was a knock at the entrance of the classroom and everyone looked over to find a young girl poke her head inside. I narrowed my eyes at the door, sensing that there was something waiting outside for me beside the girl. I turned back to the classroom and tapped on the board to garner back the attention of the curious students.
"Take notes on these chapters I want you to read when I pass out the papers to take with you for homework." I told them then headed towards the door.
"Hi," Adena Cho, the dark-haired half-Asian teen threw an apologetic smile, which I waved it off. "Sorry to bother you, but I was told by the Professor..."
She trailed off, opening the door wide enough so I could see a new face waiting nervously outside the classroom. She was dressed in a dark hoodie, front zipped up and sleeves rolled over her hands, not an ounce of skin exposed but the pale collarbone that led up to her bowed head. Strands of dark hair came out of the hood, but the upper half of the girl's face remained hidden.
She either had a physical mutation that she was no doubt ashamed of... or there was something about her mutation that made her afraid of skin-to-skin contact. That, or she was just really cold. Really, who knew when it came to odd mutations?
"This is Rogue." Adena perked up, giving the timid mutant girl a shy smile. "Mr. Summers and Ms. Monroe picked her up."
The term "picked up" around here usually meant that someone had their arses saved in the nick of time before things went sour. And it didn't come as a surprise to me, and the same could be felt around the school as well. Practically everyone heard of the Blackbird's entrance when it had appeared late in the night, and it wasn't long after that word spread that the mansion now housed two new guests, both of them being patched up in the medical wing. In a school of gossiping teenagers, some of which had telepathic abilities, nothing really stayed secret for too long.
"Hello Rogue," I greeted the girl, and I was finally beholden with her face when she lifted it high enough for me to properly see her. She was innocently beautiful, eyes glimmering with fear and mistrust, and I would call her a fool if she didn't at least exhibit some of those when in a strange environment. "If you would like to, you can come inside and take a seat, we're going over some notes about the Founding Fathers."
The dark-haired girl made a quick assessment of me, gauging on how dangerous I seemed to her.
'Clever girl...' something inside me whispered, but I stomped it down into submission.
"Are you from England?" she asked quietly with a low voice, but I was able to pick up the sweet and thick Southern drawl bubbling out of her lips.
I couldn't help but smile, huffing a little at her innocent question.
"No," I told her. "Much further away."
o-o
"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance Rogue."
Rogue, still shy and quiet, had sat and watched the whole class with intrigue. Her notebook and pen, handed to her by another student who said nothing after she had offered a quick smile, only wrote down a few things, slowly catching on to the subject everyone was going over. A secret smile spreading across her mouth before she could stop it when there was a joke thrown here and there between the students and teacher, a bow of the head to avoid any attention on her, and her silence purposeful to merely listen to everything that was going on around her. While still on guard of her new surroundings, Rogue slowly blended in with the class until she felt like she was part of the crowd.
Something of a feeling she hadn't felt in what seemed like forever.
The boy in the row in front of her pulled his arms back, and Rogue leaned away, wary of his actions (and of accidentally coming in contact of his skin despite the layer of clothes she was wearing). There was a zippo in one of his hands, and before she knew it, he flicked it on and a small ball of flames came to life in the palm of his hand.
Just a ball of scorching heat floating inches off his skin, such a powerful and lethal element in his grasp. Just as she felt at awe of the display, an ugly feeling of envy and self-consciousness struck through her mind.
Why didn't she have powers like that? why did her powers have to be about never being able to touch someone? Better yet, why did she have to be born a mutant?
Movement from the corner of Rogue's eyes made her look over to the side to watch a sandy-haired boy stretch his hand out and stealthily send a white mist towards the flaming ball. Feeling a little cold, she almost huffed to figure that the other boy could control ice. One boy who had fire, and another boy who controlled ice... what a school.
The flaming ball frosted over, causing the boy from the front row to lose control and whip his arms away in time to avoid catching the ice ball—which caused it fall and crash against the floor, startling everyone in the room. Rogue flushed in embarrassment, ducking her head to calm her fluttering and nervous heart while the teacher admonished the boy in front of her. Sensing eyes on her, Rogue dared to look to the source of the gaze and found the sandy blond boy looking at her with curious bright blue eyes, her heart skipping a beat to find such a handsome guy looking to her direction.
"I'm Bobby," he introduced himself, quiet as to keep the teacher from getting after him.
Shy and reluctant, she answered. "Rogue."
A welcoming and warm smile graced his cherub-like face, making her flush again.
"Welcome to mutant high."
She blinked when she noticed him reaching towards her with his hand, making her lean away. If he seemed offended, he didn't look too bothered, as his hand touched the top of her desk. Before her eyes, a rose-shaped icicle formed, leaving Rogue speechless at the kind gesture.
What a school...
o-o
Running a little late was not considered professional for a teacher, but I never claimed to be professional.
It was between periods, which meant there was children swarming the hallways of the large school. Honestly, it was like trying to go against a wild current. At least it would give me an excuse as to why I was late to begin with.
Rolling up the sleeves of my baby blue buttoned shirt and straightening my black slacks, I hurried towards the Professor's main office. My black flats were silent as I hurried towards my destination.
Apparently, through a reliable (nosy) source, the second mutant that had remained unconscious in the medical wing had awoken. He caused quite a stir, if the earlier commotion with the teachers was anything to go by. I was all for letting bygones be bygones, concentrating my food and conversing with the students and teachers joining me in the cafeteria, when I felt being summoned to the Professor's office.
Really, I wasn't exactly the type of woman who was part of the welcoming committee. Did something about me suggest otherwise? I was just here to do my job in educating the next generations of mutants, nothing more.
Then the Professor pulled a dirty trick, using a name he knew I would do anything for.
So here I stood, in front of the main office, but I paused outside the door. I didn't have to strain my ears to hear what was going on inside, it was clear with the loud volume of what exactly was going on inside. The second mutant was not a very happy individual.
'Trapped is more like it,' a voice in my head droned. 'An animal forced into a corner.'
I could almost smell it in the air. The suspicion, the defensiveness... and a small tinge of fear. But most of all, I could feel there was a rage brewing beneath the skin of this mutant just ready to explode.
With that, I quickly force the door open—only to gasp.
While there was many people occupying the office, I immediately focused on Scott Summers being nearly lifted off the ground by a beefy-looking man with a grizzled appearance. The stranger was really built like a tank, almost as if he came out of a lumberjack catalog book, but there was something dangerous... and old about him. The mutant, who had been snarling in Scott's personal space, let his hazel orbs flicker towards me, his dark eyes bright from the window casting light in the office, making them seem like glowing golden eyes.
Animal, was the first thing that came to mind. Feral, was the second word I would use to describe the large male. His white canines were bared in a sneer, his primal nature just peeking at the surface as his true nature was still tucked away beneath the surface of his form.
"Lillian," someone drew me back from my staring contest with the stranger. "You're late."
I blinked, startled from how out of thought I was. Noticing that Scott had been released by the feral's clutches, I stepped inside the office, shutting the door calmly. The stranger, with his molten gold eyes, had no problem in openly staring at me. There was nothing sexual about the way he let his eyes wander, but there was interest from the way he took in every detail.
'Just like an animal...'
Jean and Ororo, standing just a little away from the Professor's desk, looked as if they let out a sigh of relief. Probably because I had interupted a potential fight from breaking between the two men in the room, not that their teacher would have allowed it to escalate. A brush against my mind told me that Jean was reaching out to me, silently giving thanks without provoking any aggressive response from the stranger in the room.
"Who the hell are you?"
The crass words made me stop and look at the man with genuine bewilderment. Soon, my face morphed into an expression that said I was unimpressed.
"That's charming. Is that how you greet everyone you come across?" I raised a single brow at him.
The other man snorted. "See if you remain calm, wakin' up inside some lab where you find someone stabbin' needles in yer sleep."
I nodded. "Fair point. I'd also probably have to choke a few people on the way out."
The bruises around Jean's neck did not go unnoticed. I could only imagine how surprised and terrified the poor woman was, not being able to react quickly enough before she had been put in a choke hold by the stranger. Though, to be fair, anyone in his position would have done the same.
Still, if someone went and did that to a friend of mine, I wasn't going to play nice.
"Hey, lady..." the mutant took a step towards me, his voice lowering to a growl.
The Professor butted in, stopping another argument from breaking out before his eyes. "Lillian, please."
With a silent snort, I turned away from the bigger male and looked back to Scott. I carefully looked him over, concern written in my eyes and by the furrow of my brows. He nodded silently, affirming that he was alright despite the stranger's earlier manhandling. So far, aside from Jean's bruises and Scott's ruffled state, everyone was mostly unharmed. With Charles Xavier doing a reintroduction (since I had been late), I turned back to find the mutant still glaring holes at me. I wasn't going to be cowed by that intense predatory gaze directed towards me, standing my ground as I crossed my arms and lifted my chin in a challenging manner.
Just because I was smaller and more than half his weight didn't mean I was going to be submissive to someone like the feral mutant before me. His imposing figure would have deterred anyone from truly taking him on, but his instincts were probably telling him to force me into submission.
I never was one to back down just because someone was bigger than me.
"I would like to introduce you to Lillian Caine," Xavier said as he wheeled between the brute and the rest of the X-Men. "Lillian, this is Logan."
"Pleasure," I sarcastically quipped.
"Nice to meet you too, sweetheart." the other scowled.
o-o
"You should get some ice on that," I said as I brushed my fingers against Jean's neck. "It's already turning into a nasty color."
Standing in the kitchen, we watched as Scott gathered an ice-pack for his fiancé. The day was already over, allowing everyone to finally take a pause from their homework to relax in the entertainment rooms, cafeteria, outside in the fields, in the stables, or wherever they felt most comforted. After that disastrous meeting with Logan, the rest of us gladly left while Xavier dealt with Logan alone, giving him a tour around the establishment.
"Here," Scott returned, pressing the cooling pad against Jean's neck.
"I need to get a scarf, otherwise the kids will go ballistic and come up with crazy gossip rumors." Jean muttered, leaning against the cool material.
"Yeah, and they'll get the wrong idea that Scott's being sexually deprived." I joked, earning a light slap on the arm and a chuckle from both.
Promising a small gathering between them, Ororo, and I, we went our separate ways.
I passed through the hallways, chastising a couple of kids who were going to leave marks on the cherry wood floor from wearing their skating shoes, greeting a couple of little children who were following another teacher, and picking up some folders through a couple of offices for me to review.
Too busy checking a few messages in the teacher inbox of my tablet, I didn't notice I was being called out. It was from the sound of heavy footsteps coming from behind me that I finally regained awareness and looked back, only to wish I had ignored it because heading towards me was none other than Logan. What? Did the old teacher skim the whole touring process because I hardly thought that an hour and a half was enough time to cover the entire ground up. I was not in the mood for anymore alpha dog posturing from the man.
Seeing that he had my attention, his stride towards me slowed to a halt, and that's when I noticed he had company: Rogue.
"Ms. Caine!" the girl greeted, her voice and demeanor a little more enthusiastic than it had been hours earlier.
"Hello," I greeted her with a polite nod. "Is there something you need?"
"I, uh, I just wanted to say thank you..." she floundered, her hoodie gone to reveal rich dark hair that framed and amplified her pale beauty.
I shrugged, "I'm just doing my job. Professor Xavier, Mr. Summers and Ms. Munroe are the ones you really ought to thank."
As I said this, my eyes flickered briefly to Logan who was still watching me like a hawk. Looking back to the young girl in front of me, I looked to find a small pile of documents held in her arms. Noticing my curious gaze, she explained herself.
"I'm thinking of registering for classes."
I nodded, "Good timing. The semester just started, so you won't be lagging behind anyone."
We continued to exchange a few words, stepping away from the middle of the hallway so that we didn't end up bumping into anyone or blocking the path. Logan remained quiet throughout the whole conversation, never butting in, simply listening to the flow of words. I gave one last smile to Rogue, our conversation finished as she said she had to go through her paperwork to start her courses, and I returned my trek towards my office. I had lots of papers to grade, emails to reply with students, teachers, and a couple of acquaintances, and some food to munch before calling it a night.
However, my wishes to follow with my routine went unanswered as I felt another body join alongside me.
"Some school." he remarked.
I tilted my head a little, peeking from beneath my dark lashes towards Logan's taller frame. He had his hands stuffed in the borrowed sweatpants, the sweater he nabbed in his attempt to escape the medical wing after awakening stretched across his muscled torso. He looked relaxed, totally calm and at ease, but I knew better.
Nobody poked a stick at a lazing tiger and expected it not to attack.
"Your skeptical." I noted out loud, and I was graced with a look.
"This school, the X-Men," at this, a hollow huff escaped his breath, his laugh lacking humor just mockery. "Sounds like complete bullshit, darlin'."
I shrugged. "You wouldn't be the first, nor the last, to think so."
The halls barren of any passing bodies, I was forced to a halt when the man cut off my path, his bulging arms crossed over his chest as he stared me down. I didn't bother with holding back a sigh, seeing through his body towards my office and merely wishing to be on my way. Was it so hard to ask for small favors? Life apparently thought so.
"The old man wouldn't be the first to make a speech about safe havens. And everyone knows what happens in those places."
I did know what happened in those places. I remembered Siberia, Syria, Egypt, India, China, and some parts of America, false advertisements targeting unsuspecting and gullible mutants that were given false promises of safety. I remembered the international newspapers, bold letters and graphic pictures depicting innocent mutants beaten within an inch of their life, arrested unfairly by anyone wearing a badge, and shipped off to who knew where. I remembered, in a cold December as I walked along the sidewalks and happening upon a store displaying television sets, the sounds of a woman wailing as attack dogs ripped into her, a police pulling out his baton and clubbing a young man to the ground, and guns pressed against the back of people's heads with fingers at the trigger.
I remembered what happened. I was there.
It took a long while for ethic groups to give a good enough argument and reasoning, especially before the UN, to get powerful people off their arses and do something about the atrocities being done to their own citizens. Hank McCoy's voice rising with compassion, Charles sitting only a little ways behind him, as he spurred officials into action from their negligence. To really push their buttons, he started comparing the anti-mutant groups as modern day Nazi's dehumanizing the Jews with the rest of the world guilty of doing nothing to prevent the hate crimes.
While many anti-mutant groups had been forced to disband under legal threat, there was still some who continued on to this day.
"Hey."
The feel of a large and warm hand resting on my shoulder startled me out of the bloody and cold memories, the images inside my mind erasing itself to reveal wooden hallways full of paintings, desks with flowery vases, and the surly mutant standing close to me. The close proximity made me flinch away from his hold, and Logan raised his hands in a placating manner, his previous hardened and sardonic face softened as he eyed me carefully.
"I..." he paused, looking into my eyes. "I'm sorry, darlin'. I shouldn't have said that."
At that moment, I hated his eyes, all soft with attempts to comfort me. Where was his burning wrath? I would have rather had that than someone giving me those pitying looks. This time, I bared my own fangs at him, making my intent known in the air and watching as the mutant quickly sensed the danger in the air and took a step away from me, his face hardening once more.
"I believe the exit is down the hallway, Mr. Logan. Do be sure to not hurt yourself on the way out!" I snapped at him before shoving past him and towards my office.
"Whoa there, darlin'! Just—Hey!"
I didn't bother acknowledging his existence afterwards. Stepping inside my office, I made sure to give a slam to my door, a sense of finality with our talk echoing across to drive the point home.
'Fucking mongrel.' I cursed.
A voice began to laugh in my head.
