A/N: ...I am so sorry but I couldn't help myself. I know that I already have two stories on the go and that I've developed this habit of not completing stories that I've started but if I'm being honest they're not really a reflection of my best work anyways and I knew that in the long run they would run out of steam. I will eventually go back and edit them but right now, I want to write something that actually might have a little smidgeon of quality. I have left no stone unturned in the terms of this story; I even filled out 100 questions about my character that I found on deviantart. I've written down details that I'm pretty sure have no relevance to the story but I wrote them down in case they did and just as an excercise to flesh out my character and make her seem more real. Hopefully this story will be a little different to all of the other Charles/OC fics floating around, the main difference probably being that this stroy is set seven years before the events of X-Men: First Class when Charles was at Oxford. But okay, enough rambling, on with the show! (And by the way does anyone feel slightly wrong about finding Charles Xavier attractive in X-Men: First Class when you watch the old X-Men films with Patrick Stewart? I feel so dirty...)

Disclaimer: I don't own anything apart from Abi. But she is pretty kick-ass if I do say so myself.

Chapter 1

We trusted him. Well, correction. Charles trusted him. I don't particularly know why. It isn't like he'd even done anything to earn that trust. Charles was just a trusting person, unfortunately. I never trusted him. He was too reckless and was willing to do anything for his petty revenge. And because of him Charles would never be the same again. It was all his fault…no it wasn't. It was my fault. I could have done something. But I panicked. I knew that it wouldn't work if I panicked and I did it anyway. Charles had taught me how to calm my mind to get the results I wanted. It took him years. That would be years of training that amounted to nothing because I couldn't perform when it counted. I almost lost him…all for his petty revenge. I didn't trust him for a reason. He was dividing us and turning us against each other, like he did to Raven. He was sly about it, very sly. But I'm not stupid. I could see what he was doing and I didn't say anything. Because Charles trusted him and that was enough for me. I really wish I'd spoken up now.

There are those moments in life that you just know are going to change everything. Whether it is the loss of a loved one, the birth of a new one or getting the job opportunity of a lifetime. For me, it was meeting Charles Francis Xavier. I met him and I knew that everything was going to change…

September 1955, Oxford University

Classes had only just started and I was already drowning in papers. I loved history, I wouldn't have taken it otherwise. But the workload was just…ridiculous! I'd only been there a week and I practically live in the library already. The history of the British Isles, as fascinating as it is, was not how I wanted to spend my Friday night.

Sat in the most secluded corner, I leafed through the stack of books both assigned by my professor and recommended by the librarian. It was almost peaceful, surrounded by centuries of old texts…I'm such a boring person.

It was nearly closing time when I heard the footsteps on the wooden floor. My curiosity peaked as I wondered who else could possibly be here at this hour. Looking up, a man with the most intense pair of blue eyes rounded one of the shelves to face me. He smiled at me and I politely smiled back before going back to my books. We stayed like that for a few minutes, me reading about the history of Scotland and him leaning against a bookcase watching me, the only sound the soft flutter of a page being turned. It was actually quite disconcerting, silently being watched; definitely not a nice feeling. Daring to glance back at him, I shyly smiled at him again and he returned it with a bright one of his own. For a few more minutes we stayed that way, staring at each other and wondering who would speak first.

"It's nice to know that there's someone else like me here." He finally said cheerfully.

Confused and also slightly shocked that he had spoken at all, I replied. "What do you mean?"

"You know, a mutant." And his smile never wavered.

Mine, however, did. In fact, it very well slid off my face. He couldn't possibly know. Almost nobody knew. A feeling of dread settled in my stomach and I could have sworn that I actually felt all of the blood drain from my face. What did this mean? How could he know? He said that he was a mutant too, was that his power? Predicting other people's abilities? There was an awkward silence as I contemplated what to say next. I forced my lips to twitch upwards and tried to diffuse the situation with humour.

"Is that your pick up line?" I laughed breezily. "Because if you actually intend on getting any girls, I would suggest not calling them a mutant."

And he laughed. He actually laughed at my awful attempt of a joke. "I suppose it does need a little bit of work." He shrugged, that annoying little grin never leaving his face. "Doesn't change who, or should I say what, you are though and you are mutant." He said with the smile of a man who knew he was right. I hated that smile.

Coughing to break the silence, I pretending to go back to reading my book. "No, I'm afraid you have the wrong girl." I insisted, wanting nothing more for him to leave.

There was a small silence and then, strangely, he nodded. "Ah yes, of course. Terribly sorry to take up your time. I'll be leaving now. Just forget I was ever here." And as quickly as he had appeared, he disappeared.

Taking in a shaky breath, I stared at the place he had stood. That was…weird. I couldn't believe he'd just taken my word for it and left. Definitely weird. It was almost as if he knew but I knew that he couldn't. I could count all of the people who knew on my hands. Deciding to just shake it off as a prank or the drunken ramblings of a student who was having much more fun than me on his Friday night, I returned to my studies.

I heard the scraping almost immediately after, like the sound of a chair on wooden flooring (which it probably was). Perhaps the strange man had decided to take up residence in a different part of the library. And then the footsteps began again, sounding as if they were walking in my direction. My stomach sank as the thought of the man with the infuriating smile appearing around the corner with a chair to sit next to me flashed across my mind. Sure enough, the blue-eyed man re-appeared heaving a chair with him.

But instead of placing the chair at my table, he hoisted it above his head and threw it at me.

I didn't think. The only thought running through my head was that there was a reasonably large piece of furniture hurtling towards my head that had the potential to splatter my brains across the library walls if I didn't do something fast. Well, to be more accurate my only really coherent thought was "CRAP!" Without this thought process, I acted instinctively and flung my arm out in front of me. The purple field materialised before I knew what I'd done, stopping the chair mid-flight as it hit the barrier.

I was so stunned that all I could do was stare at him with my mouth opening and closing as I struggled to find something to say.

"You just threw a chair at me!" Thirteen years of schooling, A's across the board and an IQ of 148 and that was the best answer I could come up with. I was ashamed.

If it were possible, his smile became even brighter. Yes, I did, how astute of you.

It was at that moment that I almost fell out of my chair.

"You just…spoke…to me…in my head." All of that money spent on my private education...what a waste.

Yes I did.

"Please stop doing that." I all but begged, slumping in my chair.

It was too much to take in. I'd lived eighteen years of my life thinking that I was the only different one; the only person who could do things that other people couldn't. But here was a man who could speak to me in my head. He was telepathic! That wasn't normal! Not like I was one to judge. I didn't know whether to be happy or saddened by this news. In one respect I was reassuring to know that I wasn't the only freak and I had so much I wanted to talk to him about. But on the other hand, I quite liked the idea of being the only different one. It was one of the only things that made me unique, special…

"You are very special indeed." I gasped and quickly looked up. Of course; he could hear everything I was saying in my head. "Yes I can. Are we quite done?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

Mouth wide open, I could do nothing but nod.

"Good. Now I'm sure you have plenty of questions and it is getting quite late so if you would ask them quickly please." And with that he sat opposite me on the chair he had thrown at me with his chin resting on his hands, staring at me with those intense eyes and a charming smile.

"…why did you throw a chair at me?" Really Abi, I have completely lost faith in you. "I mean couldn't you have just spoken to me in my mind? I think that would have been proof enough that we're alike."

"Yes," He admitted, leaning back in that damn chair. "But this way was for more interesting, don't you think?" He countered and at the same time, he threw me a cheeky wink.

I didn't know what else to do. So I laughed. I laughed so hard it physically hurt and my stomach began to ache. I just couldn't stop. This whole situation was just so…unreal. So I said as much.

He seemed quite amused by my outburst and merely nodded and said "Yes, I suppose so."

After finally forcing myself to stop laughing (not an easy feat), I stared at him in wonder.

"Who are you?" I asked in absolute fascination. He was just like me. Me! I thought it was too much to hope for there to be someone out there who could understand. But fate had just dropped this man into my life and I didn't have to hope anymore.

"Sorry, how rude of me. I should have introduced myself sooner. Charles Xavier." He greeted me with a smile and leant over the table, offering his hand.

"Abigail Becket, though I'm sure you already knew that." I answered coyly with a raised eyebrow of my own, accepting his handshake. "And you consider not introducing yourself rude but not throwing chairs at innocent bystanders in the library?"

He laughed. "Alright, I admit, it was a little extreme. But it got the point across didn't it?"

"Most effectively." I replied with a little laugh of my own. All of the shock and anger from first meeting him had dissipated and instead been replaced with the excitement of knowing someone I could share my experiences with.

Gazing into his mesmerizing eyes (and then looking away as I realised he'd probably heard that, his small chuckle told me that he did), I shook my head in disbelief. "How did you find me?"

He shrugged, as if it was no big deal. "I just…did." Pinning him with an unsatisfied look, he sighed. "I heard you thinking about it through my bedroom wall. You live in the dorm next to mine."

I nodded. That made sense. Though I don't know why I hadn't seen him up until tonight if we were neighbours. Then again, I had only been there a week and I was a bit of a recluse so far. My social life really did leave something to be desired.

He chuckled and I came to a realisation. He's been able to read my mind this whole time… "You've been silently laughing at me this whole time, haven't you?"

He scrunched his nose in mock-thought. "Perhaps just a little bit."

I wasn't sure whether I should be embarrassed or not. Finally, I decided not to. It was less embarrassing if you didn't acknowledge it.

I stared at him in awe. "What else can you do?"

It was then that he fixed me with the most powerful gaze I've ever seen. There was a world of wisdom and strength behind those eyes beyond his years and it was almost scary to look at him. That much power in one man was intimidating and at the same time quite…thrilling. And when he finally answered, I could have fainted under the pressure of his eyes. "More than you could possibly imagine. "He replied mysteriously.

I nodded, more to break contact than to show my understanding.

Smiling mischievously, I fixed him with a playful look, but one that had very serious implications behind it. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

It was that night in the library that I was sure I had stumbled upon something great. Someone great. The greatest man I have ever met. I knew next to nothing about him apart from for some inexplicable reason, I trusted him. That and that those twinkling baby blues and cheeky smile were going to get me in a lot of trouble.