New Home

"W-What?"

"We just need to speak with her. We understand she has certain...Abilities..."

(M/N) had welcomed very few people into her home over the years, giving very few exceptions. Including this one. These people were claiming information about her daughter...

The three guests gave solemn looks. She shot confused ones back. "A-Abilities...? She never told me this before...She's talented yes, but... What abilities are you talking about?" The three exchanged worried glances, the 'honors' being passed back to the patriarch of the group.

He was an older man, around his fifties or sixties, and he was completely lacking in hair. It wasn't unusual, but to (M/N) he for some reason seemed peculiar. He had bright blue eyes, wrinkles accompanied at their edges, showing he smiled often. But in this moment, his face was stony; unwavering. He looked like a normal old man, but the worried mother knew better than to judge a book by its extremely off-putting cover.

In (M/N)'s mind he would have been at least six feet but his height was diminished due to a large, bulky, steel chrome wheelchair—the rims in the shape of an X. He seemed to want to change the subject—not wanting to have to make rash decisions after telling a parent their child had...certain abilities. Not yet.

He was not interested in being chased out by the police, or worse.

"I apologize for the lacking introduction. My name is Charles Xavier, and," he motioned to one of the others, "This is Ororo Munroe." (M/N) looked her over with a somewhat daunted expression. This woman was intimidating.

She was a slim, light skinned African-American woman with bright blue eyes—much like the man named Charles—and she looked to be about thirty. She wore a white dress blouse with a black knee length skort and small black flats. About a few inches shorter than Charles would have been, she had a kind vibe to her. That made (M/N) less scared, though still uncomfortable. But the feature that most fascinated (M/N) was the woman's hair, kept out of her face by a small black headband. It was pure white. Not a sign of past dyeing anywhere, just...White.

She smiled at (M/N) and Charles began to introduce the other woman. "And this is Jean Grey."

He motioned to her and (M/N) began to stare again. She was also slim, but she was very very different. Almost exactly the opposite. She was a Caucasian woman around 5'10", and she had forest-like green eyes. She looked about the same age as the other woman and had long, hell red hair pulled back away from her face. She was clad in a long sleeve black shirt and jeans, along with sneakers. She seemed kind enough, but she stood as unwavering as Charles' face. She had a different vibe—one she didn't seem to recognize herself. It was almost dark and flame-like, seeming to make the room expand with an unspeakable energy.

Just as (M/N) was finished studying her guests and about to speak a small, dull, thumping sound came down the steps of the house.

"Hey, mom, who are you-"

You stopped immediately as you saw the four adults look up at you, and you didn't bother to make yourself aware of your mother's worried face, you just kept staring at the three guests, and your grasp tightened on the railing, a dull emotion washing throughout your body. Fear.

"W-...Who are they?" You pointed to the three strangers standing in your living room. Charles suddenly smiled as you came down another step, getting closer to them—as there were only three steps left until the staircase welded with the floor. He pressed a button on his wheelchair and it turned itself around, so now he was facing you completely.

"Hello, _. My name is Professor Charles Xavier, and this is Ororo and Jean." He motioned to them in small gestures. Ororo smiled and clasped her hands behind her back and Jean nodded, giving a small smile. You looked at him with an unsure and confused expression.

"W-Why are you here?" You had different theories and scenarios playing through your head and you began to believe the worst. The MRD had come for you. He seemed to sense your worry, and he began to explain calmly.

"We came here because we understand you have a certain gene that has caused unstable abilities. We ourselves have a similar gene, and with our help you can learn to control it."

Even without looking you could sense the enraged, worried and confused look your mother had on her face as he explained. You knew how your mother felt about mutants, and know she knew she had let some into her house—claiming you were one. This enraged her immensely, and the three visitors seemed to notice. But before she could blow her top, the Professor spoke with poise.

"_, I own an old house out in Westchester and I teach gifted youths like you there. If you come with us, you'll find you aren't as alone as you think." He said this and all of a sudden you hear a dull clinking sound and you look up from his eyes, gaping at the sight you see. The flowerpot that once stood on the small coffee table in the corner of the room was now floating in mid air.

You stood there and gaped for about three more seconds before you returned your gaze back to the Professor and found him giving you a kind and knowing smirk. The corners of your mouth slightly tilted upward into a small smile as your eyes were still wide with amazement. His eyes were somewhat glowing as well, Ororo and were chuckling softly as your smile faded—your eyes as wide as ever in amazement.

You stuck your hand out for him to shake.

After a short feud between you and your mother—as she was desperate to keep you from leaving with the mutants—you finally overcame her and you were able to pack a few things. You climbed into a black SUV and you rode for a few miles in the back seat with Ororo, while Jean and the Professor sat in the front. You stared out of the tinted window at the unfamiliar trees and houses—you'd entered the country.

"So what grade were you in?" The unfamiliar voice made you turn your head and look into Ororo's eyes. A slight trace of a smile was on her face and that made you feel a little better about all of this.

"Tenth. I was in class when I had my first incident….." She gave a sympathetic smile. "You sound like our colleague in New York City. You Know..."

"Yeah. I've heard of him..." you said as you recalled the stories on the television. Something leveling one of the streets and a very cocky Tony Stark saying something about a jolly green giant...

"Do you know of any other mutants? Maybe around where you live?" The Professor's voice ran through the back seat and it almost made you jump.

"I, uh…. I wouldn't exactly peg Dr. Banner as a Mutant—just a science experiment gone wrong. But no, I haven't seen any other sign of mutants around my neighborhood," You look at the side of his head from your seat as he seemed to think about this, studying the dashboard as Jean pulled into the circled driveway of a huge mansion. Your jaw dropped in amazement.

"Um, I thought you said you had a house—not acastle," you said, with emphasis on the word as you stared at the tall stone building and gaped. Something on your hand made you jump and you turned to see Ororo had set her hand on yours.

"Wait 'til you see the inside."

You accidently dropped your duffel as you walked through the foyer and into the house. You gaped and stared as the house seemed to entrance you. It was a huge dwelling altogether. It had two staircases and a huge chandelier in the center—along with many, many hallways.

"The Professor into the guns and roses thing?" You asked no one in particular. Ororo walked up beside you and softly placed a hand on your shoulder. "How do you like it?" You stared at the rest of the foyer for a few seconds before answering her with a poker-faced expression. She seemed to catch on, but she said nothing and just waited for your answer.

"Honestly?" She nodded slowly, giving you the 'be honest' face. You sighed and looked over the foyer again, resting your shoulders in a lazy slump.

"Well..." you gave her a sideways glance and looked over the foyer again before looking back at her—a small smile covering your face when you see her own curious one. You step away from her, her hand dropping from your shoulder, and you spread your arms wide.

"It's amazing!"

You hear her chuckle softly as you twirl around and stop when out of the corner of your eye you see Jean and the Professor.

You sigh in content and turn away from them to study the hall again, seeing something scurry under your vision. You look down and realize it's a kid. A small kid, about nine or ten and she's running from and older boy. He looks to be about your age, with short, spiked and slightly messy dirty blonde hair. He's pretty muscular—a gray tank top covering his chest while black sweatpants with vertical white stripes adorn his legs. You can't catch sight of what the little girl is wearing—as she is running for her health, it seems. Unfortunately for the boy, he can't catch up with her and she disappears, leaving him panting and doubled over—hands on his knees.

He shakes his head slightly and blinks—trying to shake the exertion away. He must have felt the breeze from the ajar door, as he turns his head to look. His eyes begin to size you up—a small but kind smirk playing on his lips when you blush. You were always self-conscious—the mutant gene never helping.

He saunters over, and it seems he's trying to impress you with some kind of swagger or….something. He stops in front of the four of you and smiles.

"Hey, Jean. Professor. Who's the new girl?" he asks with bright, chocolate brown eyes. You blush and turn your gaze towards the floor. You hear someone press a button along with moving gears, and in the corner of your eye you see the Professor wheel up beside you. He stops and the wheelchair gives a small whining sound as he takes his finger off of the button.

"Bobby, I would like you to meet_. She's going to be a new student here," He motions towards you and 'Bobby' sizes you up with his eyes again, stopping when your eyes meet. He stuck his left hand into his pants pocket and giving you the other to shake. "Bobby Drake. But most people just call me Iceman," You hesitate, looking from his hand to him and back—slowly grasping and shaking it.

Suddenly you feel a dull sensation in your hand, like pins and needles as he shakes it. Your eyes move to your hands and you gasp softly. His hand seems fine, but yours looks frostbitten—blue almost. You yelp and yank your hand from his, staggering back and breathing slowly as the heat returns to your fingers. He almost froze your hand.

He laughs nervously when you glare at him and he turns his gaze to the floor, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. "Y-yeah, sorry…. about that….. It…..happens a lot…" He stutters. You continue to glare, but after a few seconds of watching his worried and somewhat sad expression, your eyes become soft again. You step forward a little, reaching your hand out to him with a small, soft smile.

When he senses the sudden movement, he looks up at your hand—his still on the back of his neck. He looks from your hand to you nervously like you did with him. After a few seconds you laugh through your nose—he looked like he was scared you'd bite him. You nod to your outstretched arm—motioning for to shake your hand. He still stands there, but after a second he removes his hand from the back of his neck and gives it to you. You smile and take it—shaking it lightly. "_."You say softly. He looks up at you and blushes, giving you a goofy smile in return for your name. You almost giggle. All of a sudden, Charles rolls up to you both and stops. "I'm glad you two have made friends. Bobby, may I ask you to give _ a tour?"

Bobby looks from him to you, giving a questioning look. You simply shrugged. You weren't sure. You had only just met him, and maybe you weren't exactly okay with a practical strangershowing you through a mansion. There were endless places to stuff a body. You didn't know what to do, so you simply nodded after a few more glances between the three of you.

"Alright, Bobby, once you've finished showing her the mansion you can show her to her room." The Professor added. Bobby nodded, stepping around the three adults to grab your duffel you so embarrassingly forgot you had dropped on the floor. You blushed as he picked it up and slung it over his shoulder, smiling. You could have sworn he just flexed his arm.

"Oh, Bobby, you don't have to get that….I'll get it—"he politely interrupted you when you went to grab it from him.

"I got it, _, don't worry about it. Come on; time to show you X Mansion." He smiled.

He led you up the stairs to the right and up to the second floor, where there was an arrangement of kids running around. From pure white to ocean blue and toothless to tusks—there was a 'colorful' variety amongst the mutants. And all of a sudden another, more welcoming feeling apart from nervousness made your heart thump.

A feeling of belonging.