A/N: This is the first fanfiction that I've uploaded for a couple of years now. I'm keeping my fingers crossed and hoping this story will do well :) This song came into being through listening to the Nickelback song 'Savin' Me' which is a fantastic song! If you read this story and listen to the song, you'll understand what I mean.
I do realise that the main original character's name is not mentioned in this chapter, but I intended it to be that way. Enjoy!
CHAPTER ONE: 'Normal'
Warren Kenneth Worthington III, a winged mutant student who lived at the Xavier mansion, sat alone by the fountain one night. He picked up a brick and skimmed it across the flat water, watching ripples form and spread outwards.
The air was warm and sticky, making it impossible to sleep, unless you were Bobby Drake and could purposefully lower your body temperature. Why couldn't he have an ability like that? He could alter his bodily molecular structure but still look 'normal'. Most mutants didn't appear outwardly different, but a few had the misfortune of standing out and being ridiculed by an appearance-obsessed society where the media reigned supreme. In one way at least, Warren had been lucky- he could hide his wings- fold them down, strap them close to his body and wear a long, thick over jacket. But in the summer? Now, that WOULD stand out.
His flight that evening had been swift. Only lasting about half an hour. That was because his wings hurt like hell, constantly aching and even the joints clicked when he moved them backwards and forwards to stop them seizing up.
Today however had been one of the worst days of his life. His father, Warren Worthington Jr., owner of Worthington Industries, had been rushed to hospital from his office with a suspected heart attack. Too much stress! Managers and owners of companies tend to have more stress-related illnesses. That's because if something goes wrong within the corporation, the manager's ass gets it.
Warren dreaded stepping into his father's shoes: taking the blame, ensuring all profits tallied and attending non-stop board meetings concerning mergers, opposing companies and where the company is heading in the long run. He wanted none of that- just a happy, 'normal' life. But that was something he was destined to never be.
The word 'normal' was something that Warren had never known the meaning of. Dictionaries give you the meaning in black and white, but he wanted to be able to live the word, taste it and feel it.
Kurt Wagner had continuously told him that his mutation was a gift straight from God Himself; how could he want to destroy the wings of an angel and choose a mere mortal life? To many however, Warren wasn't seen as an angelic being- he was a freak!
Warren sighed for the thousandth time that night. The water was cool against his fingers as he washed them through the rippling water. It was so cold and refreshing.
"You alright?" a female voice came from behind. Warren spun around in the direction the voice was coming from. For a brief moment he felt amused by her appearance. She wore pyjama bottoms covered in cartoon cats, paired with a rainbow striped camisole. On her feet were black, multi-coloured starred pumps. Her long, black hair was tied back untidily into a ponytail.
"Yeah, thanks," he replied weakly, turning back to face the large lawn instead.
"You sure? You look down," she continued, sipping coffee from a white mug. "I was in my room and saw you sat out here, so I thought I'd come and say hello."
He glanced across at her almost sceptically and just watched her smile at him. She looked vaguely familiar to him, but there was no way he could put a name to her round, flushed face. Her face was cheerful looking and almost mischievous.
"Are we in the same classes? I know I've seen you around," Warren said finally, feeling that it was only polite that he speak. After all, she'd been kind enough to come out and speak to him in the first place.
"I think we do…," she began, looking upwards as she thought about it. "Mutant Biology and Ethics. I know I've seen you in there, definitely."
"Do you have them on a Monday and Wednesday?" he asked.
"Yeah."
"We're in the same classes then," he finished with a smile. "How long have you been here, then?" he asked, finally noticing that she had a strong British accent.
"About three weeks," she replied, sipping her coffee. "You?"
"Say two months, give or take a couple of weeks."
"Oh right. Cool."
Warren couldn't help but watch her from the corner of his eye, trying not to let himself be noticed staring. She was a bigger built girl, certainly not fat, just rounded and carried extra weight. Colours, lots of them caught his eye. Around her right wrist were bracelets and beads which complimented the rings she wore on her hands, silver and gold glistening in the moonlight.
"You, er, like your jewellery then?" he asked, catching her off guard. Her eyes, pale blue and bright, widened over the top of her mug as she drank.
"Oh yeah, I do. I've always had a thing for bracelets. Don't ask me why, but I just love em'. I like the gem ones in particular caus' I like all that spiritual and mystical crap."
Warren turned so that he was looking straight at her. "Really? I suppose it is interesting, but I've never really given it much thought. You get a load of those fake mediums on T.V, so they kinda put you off the idea of it being plausible," he explained.
"Yeah. You definitely have so many people making a complete mint out of the entire thing. My dad and brother are always going on about how they home in on people who are vulnerable because we all know you've got folks who want to contact their relatives."
"That's so true. When my mom died, my dad through that thing when he wanted to contact her. My uncle eventually talked him out of it, but the temptation is always there, the temptation to go beyond, you know?"
"Yeah. But you've also got the religious zealots who believe anything like that is evil. I like doing tarot readings, and the amount of people I've had who tell me it's a bad thing is unbelievable. How can looking at pictures on cards be considered evil? I think it's bloody ridiculous myself."
Warren remained quiet, listening to her speak and finding what she said truly intriguing. She'd just randomly come to say hello and made him feel normal. There's that word again- 'normal'. He knew very well that most of the school judged him as 'stuck up'. Being rich and heir to an industry worth billions of dollars usually makes lower class citizens judge harshly.
"So, what classes you got tomorrow?" she asked, her interest growing in the young, winged man.
"Erm," he began, sighing and batting his tired eyelids. "I've got a Danger Room session at ten and then Ethics in the afternoon."
"Oh right. I should see you in there then," she replied and then looked down a little embarrassed. The truth was that she, like him, had few friends. Just being able to sit with someone and have a chat made her feel a whole lot better and accepted. "I might go in in a bit and watch a DVD for a while. I just know I'm not going to be able to sleep tonight."
"It's so hot. Having wings gives me insulation, which is good in the winter, but during the summer it's a bastard."
"I hope you don't mind me asking, but what do you do about clothes? Do you cut holes in the back?" she asked, moving along the side of the fountain a little and admiring the two feathered masses.
"Pretty much, yeah. Or I just cover them up all together using straps and putting my clothes on over the top. So, er, what is it that you can do?"
"Telekinesis. Boring really, and apparently one of the most common mutations," she said with a sigh and a roll of her eyes. "I don't like to think I'm common; I'm proud to be unique." She gave him a mischievous smile with that and giggled.
Warren sighed and began his reply. "Some days I'd love to be able to do everything as I wished, wear what I want and not worry what people think of me."
"You shouldn't give a toss what those idiots out there think of you. I've struggled to come to terms with that since I was about twelve, and it's not because I'm a mutant. Most people look at me and see a fat girl, but I'm more than that. I'm a person with feelings and it truly disgusts me when I see celebrities flashed everywhere because of their good looks. What happened to being intelligent or just being a good person?"
He didn't know how to answer that and instead remained quiet. This girl seemed so much like himself in the way she thought, but unlike him, she had the strength to stand up and voice those thoughts.
"You okay?" she asked, noticing that he'd gone quiet. "I go on sometimes, I know. Sorry."
"It's okay," he said suddenly, giving her a flash of a handsome smile. "You've been saying everything I've been thinking. So?" he began, getting up. "What movie were you thinking of watching?"
XxxxxxxxxX
Half an hour later and Warren was sat next to his new acquaintance while drinking hot chocolate and watching 'The Butterfly Effect'. Out of all the hundreds of movies he'd had both the fortune and misfortune of watching, this was one he'd failed to watch.
As they watched the film, Warren still couldn't work out exactly how he'd wound up here: in the living room at 2am, watching a movie with a girl. He noticed, however, that she'd glance across at a short interval and smile. It somehow soothed his nerves and made him feel more at ease with the world. In her eyes he could see nothing but sincerity and instantly he felt comfortable in her presence, unlike with so many other people he'd met over the last ten years.
"What the hell are you two doing up at this time o' night?" a gruff voice came, paired with a deep, throaty cough. Logan glared at the students through the murky darkness of the hallway and proceeded to step through into the living room where he took a seat in the nearest armchair. The taught leather creaked as his muscular body slid down into its awaiting comfort.
"Ain't you gonna answer my question?" he asked, leaning forward, staring at Warren for a second. The air had grown silent with only the dialogue drifting through the air from the playing DVD.
"It's hot and neither of us could sleep, so we opted to watch a movie," Warren replied defensively, watching the girl's reaction from the corner of his eye. "Why? Is there a problem, Logan?" he asked again, growing a little irritated by the older man's interruption and subsequent interrogation.
"No, but I don't want ya fallin' asleep in my class in the morning'," Logan replied sternly. "Anyway, I'll leave you and your friend to it." With those last words, Logan raised himself out of the comfort of the seat and was gone.
Once that Warren was sure that Logan was well out of vocal range he sighed and rolled his eyes in sheer annoyance and irritation. Then he leaned back into the couch, feeling his wings press into the back. This was partly why his wings were so damn annoying at the best of times. Most times he couldn't sit down properly or actually lean back comfortably without hurting his joints.
He continued watching the movie but was growing increasingly restless as his wing joints began aching. His body squirmed this way and that at his attempts to get relaxed and comfortable. But it just wasn't happening. Not tonight.
"Are you alright?" she asked, glancing across and raising a dark eyebrow questioningly as she noticed his body twitching. It looked almost as if he had a stray itch which he couldn't quite reach.
"Yeah," Warren half groaned, twisting his body from the waist up to his left, away from her. The pain was growing now in his right wing which was shoved up against the armrest of the couch. "Ahh," he grumbled, gritting his teeth, pissed off that for once his wings couldn't at least let him have a decent couple of hours with someone.
"Come here," she sighed and got up, walking around to where his right wing was pushed up against the fabric of the seat. Very gently, she slid the annoying limb out so it was resting over the armrest.
Warren tensed as he felt her hands touch the offending appendages. Then she went about making him more comfortable on the other side. Firstly, she pulled the cushion out from behind the wing and placed it on the floor, then she took the wing, draping it over the left armrest with accurate precision. "That better?" she asked.
"Yeah….but they're in your way now," he told her, giving her a look of guilt and sadness. For some reason unknown to him he already felt in some way attached to her. She'd helped him and offered comfort which most people would not allow themselves to give.
"I'm alright. I'll sit on the floor," she replied, beaming as she did so, although Warren noticed a small and stifled yawn as she got down. "Spread yourself out. I'm okay, love."
Warren smiled to himself and felt his wings ease. The tension was slowly dying away and letting his joints finally relax. He focussed on the movie but found that because he hadn't really been concentrating the last few minutes, his knowledge of the storyline had become somewhat blurred.
"You okay down there?" Warren asked, chuckling lightly as he watched the girl slump down against the edge of the couch. "You really don't have to sit down there, you know? There's plenty of room up here."
He noticed a gentle blush flourish against her pale skin. "I'll be fine," she replied, a little more stern than last time. With the tone of voice she'd just used he knew it was best not to push it. She obviously didn't want people keep fussing.
The movie went on for a good hour after that. Warren however was growing increasingly tired, especially after glancing at the grand father clock ticking away in the corner of the room. It's large pendulum swung back and forth, never faulting. 4am. His eyes burned and his head was throbbing.
"I'm really sorry, but I'm gonna have to get going to bed now. I have a class at ten, and at this rate I'm not gonna be able to make it," he told her, smiling as he did so. A handsome smile beamed through the tired lines and bags forming under his bright eyes.
The young man stood up and stretched his body, wings included, yawning loudly as he did so. "Thanks for sitting with me tonight though. I really enjoyed it."
"No problem," she said, dragging herself up off the carpet and groaning. "I'm glad I can lie in in the morning," she announced as she ejected the movie from the DVD player.
"That's the good thing about Mondays, it's like an extra long weekend."
"Easy for some," Warren chuckled.
Together, they made their way down the intertwining hallways. "My room is down here," Warren said suddenly, breaking the silence that had accumulated.
"Oh right. Mine is just down this way," she replied, pointing to her right.
"Anyway…erm, goodnight." She smiled at him and then turned to walk away down the dimly lit corridor.
"Night," Warren replied quietly and smiled to himself.
The walk to his own room was swift and quiet, and once he shut the door, he placed his back against the door and smiled. After many years of wishing, he'd finally been given just one night at least to experience what it was like to feel normal.