A/N: Wrote this back when I was trying to pretend I was still cis, so there's a mention of unsafe binding (bandages) and the name is a rip off of Erik's original name, Max. As a Mature Trans(tm) now, I'm annoyed by those kinds of plot devices used in transfic but what can ya do.
Sorry for the abrupt ending, I have a lot of story fragments saved that I ended up just thinking about all the possibilites and never writing anything more down.
Warning for references to past abuse.
Maxine Eisenhardt wakes up in an unfamiliar room. A quick survey tells her she's at a hotel. She sits up cautiously and flinches when she tries to breathe in. She pulls up her sweater to reveal carefully secured bandages wound tightly around her tugs them away and takes a deep breath, lips lifting into a small smile as she feels the air go down into her lungs and expand her chest. She thinks back for a moment and tries to remember where she is. She can't remember. In fact, she can't remember much besides her name. Oh meine gott.
She pushes the doorbell, stepping back while it rings to take in this monster of a house. It's practically a mansion. No, it is a mansion. Professor Xavier must have a lot of money to afford this place. She feels the heat of metal approaching the door (a belt buckle and the rings on two pairs of sneakers) and the tingle of the lock clicking and the handle turning and the door opens to reveal a tall blonde boy with his hand on the handle with an even taller gangly brunette boy with freckles splashed across his skin.
She smiles in greeting and starts to lift a hand to shake and is about to introduce herself when the blonde boy (muscular, big, strong, used to fighting) lunges at her and grabs the front of her shirt, dragging her forward. She flinches, turning her face away and closing her eyes and bracing herself for the hits she knows are coming.
She had hoped it would be different here, that Xavier would be kind and gentle, that she wouldn't get another row of bruises along her ribs and down her hips. I guess men are the same everywhere, she thinks to herself bleakly, and feels tears prickle in her eyelashes. There's a hesitation, and the fist uncurls from the fabric of her sweater and pulls away. But she knows better. She keeps her eyes closed, trying to be ready, and when a hand touches her shoulder she cringes away.
"Hey," a feminine voice says softly, and Maxine's eyes snap open and standing there is a nice looking woman with brow hair and a professional-looking suit and a worried expression. She's holding one hand out and slowly rests it on Maxine's shoulder.
Maxine melts into the touch, falling into the woman's surprised embrace and sobbing into her shoulder. She starts to gasp out an incoherent story, and the woman gently holds her as she hushes her and pets her hair tentatively.
"I'm sorry- I thought they were going to kill me- I'm sorry- I just- I didn't- All I was doing- Just walking- I'm sorry I'm sorry I won't do it again I'm sorry-"
"Hey. It's okay. What's your name, sweetheart?"
"Ma-Maxine."
"Hey, Maxine, it's alright. No one here is going to hurt you. What's wrong?"
"I didn't mean to I was just walking back I'm sorry I won't do it again-"
"What are you talking about, Maxine, dear?"
"I was.. I..."
"What happened?"
"I.. I thought they were going to kill me..."
"Who?"
"I don't- I don't know their names. They didn't even know mine. They just stopped me on the street and- and-"
"And what, sweetheart?"
"They- just.. hit me. And then they hit me again. And again."
"Why?"
"I don't- They said I was I pretty."
"Did they do anything else?" The woman's question is quiet and Maxine clutches onto her like a lifeline and answers brokenly.
"Then they.. They.. I can't- I can't say it. Not out loud." She can't even say it in her own head.
From the way the woman's hug tightened minutely, she knew what Maxine was getting at.
"Come on dear, let's get you inside."
"Tea?"
"Uh, no thank you."
"We also have coffee, milk, and cider."
"Some, uh, cider would be nice."
"Coming right up."
"Thank you."
Maxine sips at her cider carefully, staring down at the dark warm liquid. She doesn't want to meet the woman's eyes, ashamed of her outburst moments ago. She hears her sit down and can feel all the metal on her person move.
"I'm Moira." Maxine looks up meekly, and shakes the outstretched hand.
"Maxine Eisenhardt. Listen, I-"
"No, don't. It's alright. What were you talking about?"
"T-" Maxine swallows thickly and takes another sip of cider when her mouth goes dry, "Three days ago. I was walking to my hotel and it was dark and these guys..."
"Don't worry about it, dear." Moira puts a comforting hand on her shoulder and Maxine tries to smile."Why did you come here? Did you want to enroll or..?"
Maxine shakes her head. "No, I... This is going to sound strange..."
"Don't worry," Moira says, a hit of irony in her tone.
"Two weeks ago, I woke up in a hotel room with no idea where I was. Or who I was. I don't remember very much, but I recovered a few memories. I remembered my name and several languages, but... I tried to wait, to see if my memories came back, but I've only gotten some, and usually something happens to make me remember. I remembered a man though. He had pale blue eyes and dark hair and wore sweaters with elbow patches. I remembered his name after a while, and it was Professor Xavier, so I came here to see if he remembered me."
Moira nodded and drank some of her tea.
"Sounds like Charles. He's out right now but he should be back in a moment."
"Okay. Thank you."
"It's not trouble."
She feels a car park in the driveway, and then a wheelchair being set up and a belt buckle sitting in it while a pair of glasses and 2.47 in change pushes it up to the house.
Moira stands up when she hears them enter the building, and motions for Maxine to follow her. They walk from the kitchen to the entrance hallway, and the man in the wheelchair matches Maxine's memory of Professor Xavier (except for the wheelchair). A man covered with blue fur is pushing it, and Maxine would be alarmed except she isn't. He seems vaguely familiar. Very vaguely.
"Charles," Moira says warmly and Xavier smiles at her and then looks questioningly at Maxine.
"Charles, This is Maxine Eisehardt. She's got amnesia and wanted to talk to you.''
"Hello."
"Hello, Maxine. Of course, we can go to my office. Thank you Hank." The blue man mutters a reply and departs, leaving Xavier to push the wheels and lead them to the aforementioned office.
"Well, Maxine, how may I be of service to you?"
"I.. I don't remember really anything that happened before three weeks ago except for bits and pieces. I remember you and your name, so I thought.. Maybe you'd remember me."