It took nearly two weeks for Oliver to finally accept that Kurt forgave him and as promised he accompanied Kurt on a walk around the institute. Kurt was rambling on about what he knew about the architecture when he heard Oliver light a cigarette. "That's bad for you."

"Don't preach to me!" He snapped. "They help my nerves." He did appear to be more agitated than normal as they walked. He kept looking around at every little sound in the dark. Kurt enjoyed walking at night but in retrospect he probably should've taken Oliver out during the day. Most people had a phobia of the dark and what might be in it.

"I'm not preaching… are you okay?" He asked.

"No." Oliver answered truthfully. "He's following us. Why is he doing that?"

"What? Nobody is following us." Kurt looked behind them and felt a little foolish when he noticed Logan not to far behind them. "He's probably smoking a cigar. Logan would you like to join us?" Oliver grabbed his arm when he raised it to wave.

"No! Don't call him over. Go away!" He hissed at at Logan. Despite that Logan began to move closer to them.

"What did he tell you about me?" Logan asked. "Let me guess, pretty much that I'm a killer and I murdered your mom and tossed you away." Kurt noticed Oliver was starting to shake. His long ears flattened against the sides of his head like he was getting ready to attack.

"You're a liar! You said you'd protect me!" Oliver yelled. Kurt had never heard him raise his voice like that - it was jarring.

"I tried."

"I waited for so long - I waited for you to come save me and every night that monster would tell me that you had forgotten me! He was right! You abandoned me! And you act like I'm the one in the wrong." Kurt didn't catch him in time to keep him from pushing Logan.

"You—

"I was a child! Anything you were going to say doesn't negate the fact I watched him rip my mother's throat out right in front of me. I was scared and I was alone. I am this way because I had to be in order to survive. I didn't know where you were and I didn't know if you'd ever find me - all I knew was that I didn't want to die. And all I know now is that this isn't how I want to live." He took one last drag from his cigarette before flicking it into Logan's face. "Do the right thing for once - kill me."

"What!? Oliver no."

"You feel so wronged. You don't trust me not to hurt anybody. I'm just a ticking bomb placed here by my father." They both looked at him shocked when he threw Logan's own words back at him. Had he heard the entire conversation the other day? "Kill me or fuck off!" Logan finally reached his limit and backhanded Oliver. Kurt moved to catch him but Logan shoved him back.

"You don't think it kills me to see you this way? How many times I dreamed of finding you - how I hoped you hadn't spent years following behind Victor and his trail of blood. I don't want you dead Olivier—"

"No! You do not get to—"

"I'm sorry. Let me help you."

"Let go of me!" Oliver hissed as he squirmed away from Logan. Kurt watched the transaction in shock. Before he knew it Oliver had raked his claws down Logan's chest and the sting of pain made him go on the offensive. He claws shot out of his knuckles and he lounged at Oliver with a growl. Kurt grabbed him and teleported away - it was only a could of feet but it ended the fight before it could get anymore physical. Oliver looked down the hill where they had landed. Kurt could see it in his eyes - he couldn't fight so he was going to run.

"Oliver wait!" Kurt called out to him but he bolted. Kurt was surprised when he didn't run inside to hide under his bed. Instead he headed for the front gate - he was leaving for good. "Verdammt." He teleported in front of him - forgetting momentarily that it might earn him a punch in the gut. Oliver was too shocked to throw a punch but he ended up body checking Kurt and sending them both tumbling to the ground. "Oliver stop— wait wait wait!" he said quickly as he grabbed his arm.

"Just let me go."

"No."

"I'm so sick of people trying to control me. Why didn't you just leave me under that bed—"

"Because you need help." Kurt said. He didn't mean to shake him but Oliver kept trying to get away and he really needed him to listen. "Because you deserve help. You deserve a life just like the rest of us. And you deserve friends. And if the first one has to be me then so be it." Oliver looked at him like he didn't know what that word meant. "I promise things will get better. I didn't believe it at first, when I was new here, new to having people who cared about me but it will get better but only if you stay." Oliver sighed and hung his head. He couldn't stand the way Kurt looked at him. He realized Kurt's eyes had no defined pupil but despite that they were so soulful. He always gazed at Oliver like he could see right through him and he wasn't ready for someone to see him that way.

Oliver quickly steeled himself when he realized he was about to cry. He suppressed it and tensed up but Kurt gently shook him. "Don't do that. It's okay if you want to cry." Oliver just sniffled and lifted his head a little.

"Maybe tomorrow."


"I really wish you'd stop that." Oliver said.

"Stop what?" Xavier asked as he tented his fingers. He lean forward and Oliver let out a quiet snarl.

"Why do you think I can't feel that?" He asked as he crossed his arms. Xavier lifted his eye brows. "I know you're trying to read my mind - I can feel you in here." He tapped his index finger on his temple. "Like cold fingers sliding all over my brain. It's incredibly uncomfortable not to mention rude. Do you think I'm not telling the truth? Why do you have to 'finger' my thoughts as well?"

"I apologize." Xavier said as he pulled back. "Several mutants I counsel find it… less disturbing. Some of them have a hard time expressing what is causing them pain. Sometimes they want me to erase that pain."

"I don't need you in my head, convincing my memories that they are all good. Their bad and I know their bad leave them alone." Oliver said.

"There are good ones too."

"Well those aren't for public consumption." He sighed. "It's impossible to get any privacy around here - at least let me have my head to myself."

"Okay." Charles agreed. "Is privacy important to you?"

"Very."

"Is it because you want to hide something?"

"Yes, only the entirety of my being. All the murders I witnessed - every time I could've done something to help those people and I just stood by and did nothing. All the horrible shit I know how to do. How to hurt and maim - how to make a body suffer without killing it. I don't need you digging up those memories."

"You can't deny them or they'll consume you. It's in the past you shouldn't be ashamed. If you had done something - if you hadn't there's no changing the outcome. So don't dwell in your shame."

"… I need a smoke. Can I go?" He asked. Xavier nodded and he moved to leave the room.

"Oliver I have an assignment for you." He spoke up. Oliver stopped and looked over his shoulder. "Find something that you enjoy. Reading, exercise, form new friendships. Even if it makes you just a little happy indulge in it. I want you to tap into that feeling of happiness the next time you're feeling ashamed."

"I'll try."

"That's all I ask."


Kurt found himself watching Oliver quite often whenever he snuck to the gym at night. He'd comment on how he was still avoiding people but he was just happy that Oliver was spending time out of his room. After their first incident he learned to announce himself. Although he found Oliver moved different when he knew someone was watching. He was more fluid and experimental when he thought he was alone. When he knew Kurt was watching he'd tighten up his movements - more than likely how he would if he were still performing in the cirque. But Kurt caught him smiling and he even made a joke or two.

"Xavier wants me to start taking classes." Oliver informed him one night while they were juggling to each other. They started out with six balls and every few minutes Kurt would toss another in the cycle using his tail.

"That's good." Kurt said. "If you do well he might make you a teacher."

"Yeah that's me. Professor Croix - how to sever limbs and melt bodies in a bathtub." Oliver scoffed.

"Don't be anxious. It's just school."

"With people."

"With other mutants. Just like you." Kurt countered.

"Look I already know how to read, write, speak three languages and add. I don't really need or want to go to classes and learn about… spiral graphs or whatever the hell people learn in regular school."

"Who taught you what you already know?"

"Oddly enough, my father. He was bizarrely adamant about it. He'd snap some guys neck and then turn around and teach me the Pythagorean Theorem. While some dude was screaming in the trunk of our car he'd tell me about the Roman empire, the Cold War, Iran/Contra. Learned about anatomy hands on - nearly every organ in your body is basically a filter for blood, air or food. He'd give me a book to read every week. A lot of them were in Russian and they were mostly about knives and explosives but still useful."

"So attend class long enough to prove you're smart, take an equivalency test and get your diploma. In the mean time make some friends—

"I have you. Why do I need more friends?" Oliver asked. Kurt chuckled - Logan said that to him all the time. It was remarkable how much of him rubbed off on Oliver in the few years of his childhood they spent together. And how much of Logan's personality stuck with him in the years they spent apart. Perhaps that's why Victor had been so cruel to his own flesh and blood.

"Flattering but there's no harm in having more. I'm working on getting you a different roommate - to thank me you can work on getting your degree." Kurt said. He nearly got hit in the face with one of the balls they were juggling when Oliver smiled.

"Thank you Kurt."


Kurt barely saw Oliver once he started taking his classes. He found himself away on a few missions and it was almost like coming back to different world. Oliver got along famously with his new roommate - Anole, another teen that wore his mutation on the outside. Apparently he explained his upbringing to Anole and the other boy empathized with his fear of accidentally hurting something. He didn't want to be afraid and it seemed that's all Anole wanted too. Oliver also excelled in his classes and was already Jean-Paul's TA. He and Oliver engaged in what others described as the 'nicest sounding argument' in French and they had been nearly inseparable ever since.

Kurt was a little wary of their closeness. Oliver craved the approval of older, authoritative men. And Jean-Paul's flippant sexuality led him to be overly flirtatious at time. Kurt tried not to pigeon hole them into the standard 'neglected child archetype'. But their behavior was almost right out of the book he had read about helping children of abuse. Jean-Paul was hardly a child but Oliver was barely legal and nowhere near mentally stable enough for sex— "You jealous?" Kurt bristled when Logan asked him that. Not only did it break his train of thought but it made his mind derail into dangerous territory.

"No." He answered a little too quickly. He was currently watching Jean-Paul show Oliver something in a book. They were sitting so close and Oliver didn't look like he wanted to jump out of his skin. "Just… well not that."

"I know you're just looking out for him. Believe me, no one is more protective of him than me but I'm pretty sure Jean-Paul's hair is going to burst into flame if you glare any harder."

"I'm not glaring. And you're protective of him now?" Kurt asked. "Since when?"

"Since I heard him humming a song I used to sing to him when he was a kid. Shattered me emotional." Logan said plainly like he was talking about the weather. They both noticed when Oliver stood up and said goodbye to Jean-Paul. His gaze was not subtle when Oliver bent down to pick up his book bag. Oliver didn't notice the way Jean-Paul bent his neck all the way back to follow his trek down the hall.

"Mon dieu…" Jean-Paul sighed to himself. He was completely unaware that Logan was standing beside him.

"See something you like Frenchy?" He growled. Jean-Paul turned to Logan quickly and crossed his legs to play off his embarrassment.

"Just wondering where he gets his compression tights." Jean-Paul answered easily. "They fit him like he was poured into them."

"Staring at his ass ain't gonna tell ya." Logan wasn't buying his story today. Jean-Paul glared at him.

"I take offense to that. I'm not a pederast. He's a child."

"Of course. I trust you'll be behaving yourself. He gets a little violent when people try to touch him."

"You don't have to tell me about him, Logan - I spend more time with him than you do." Jean-Paul wasn't feigning annoyance anymore. He didn't appreciate Logan's judgmental assumptions. If he was ever truthful with himself he'd admit that he had entertained the idea of pursuing Oliver just to stick it in Logan's craw. His fuzz covered skin was the softest thing Jean-Paul had ever felt in his life. He had seen the way Oliver could bend himself and his luscious derrière would make anyone with a brain take a second look.

Logan was more concerned with preserving Oliver's chastity than letting him live. Jean-Paul knew it was a ridiculous notion the way Oliver acted around him - he noticed the way Oliver stole glances at him. If anything happened between them he wouldn't stop it and he doubted Logan would be there at the time to stop it either. Jean-Paul had to quell his thoughts of conquering Oliver just to piss off his adoptive father. Even he wasn't that petty.

Oliver on the other hand didn't know what he wanted. The time they spent together had been awkward. Especially when they were alone. All of a sudden they'd be sitting so close on the couch. Jean-Paul would touch his arm and suddenly Oliver would look terrified. Like he didn't know how to reject Jean's advances. But at the same time he's tentatively lean into his touch. Jean-Paul didn't really have the patience for the 'shy type'. He wasn't sure why he was fooling around with Oliver - the boy was cute but he certainly wasn't worth screwing things up with Kyle. And Jean-Paul shuddered at the thought of introducing him to his sister. She'd think he'd gone made for dating what was essentially a giant talking cat—

"Do you like me?" Oliver asked one morning. It was early - the students hadn't come into the classroom yet. Neither one of them were morning people so they usually prepared for class in silence while sipping coffee.

"Yeah, you're alright." Jean-Paul answered automatically. He noticed the way Oliver's tail slowly swayed behind him.

"I… I like you too." Oliver confessed. Jean's eyebrows shot up. It was in that moment he realized what Logan had been really trying to say. The insecurity in his voice, the way he wouldn't look him in the eye. Jean had stepped on an emotional land mine.

"Damn it." He muttered. Before he could clear things up the bell rang.


"He's your teacher." Anole said and made a face. "He's cool and all but super old."

"Twenty five is super old?

"I'm 15." Anole answered.

"Well maybe in three and a half years you won't care. Do you have any idea how old Logan actually is? And also so what?" Oliver asked as he looked at himself in the mirror. He combed his fingers through his hair but it just flopped back into his face. "He likes the way I look. He's nice."

"Those are two of my three qualifications." Anole joked. "I didn't know you were gay."

"Have you seen Mr. Beaubier? He could probably make Scott gay for him with enough sweet talk."

"Yeah but do you actually wanna be with him?"

"Sure, why not." Oliver shrugged as he turned to his friend.

"It means a lot more than you think it does." Anole advised.

"All I know is that he won't force me to take a bite out of a still pulsing human heart to prove myself to him. And that's good enough for me." He bit his lip when he realized what he said out loud.

"Damn dude, what was your childhood?"

"Frightening." Oliver answered. "Which is why I'm not going to reject the only person to take an interest in me. He wasn't ordered to talk to me like Kurt. And he doesn't feel bad for me like Logan. Everyones been saying he's a snob but I don't see it." He pulled his hood up and wrapped his tail around his waist. "Anyway I'm going for more cigarettes - you coming?"

"Yeah sure."


All it took was one fight with Kyle and Jean-Paul's mind went to a a dark and petty place. Instead of going home and working things out like an adult he stayed at the institute and showered himself in Oliver's adoration like a shallow teenager. They were watching a movie in his room when Jean-Paul slid his arm around Oliver's shoulders. He froze and Jean could feel him tense as he ran his hand through his hair. "You're so soft. What shampoo do you use?" He asked casually. Oliver just shook his head.

"I dunno. The bottle is white with a blue cap— what are you doing?" He jerked a little when Jean-Paul got too close to his face.

"You don't like it?" Jean-Paul asked a little disappointed. Oliver glanced at him and he suddenly got an awful feeling in the pit of his stomach. He didn't want to upset Jean-Paul. If he did he might take it out on him academically. He was already so close to getting his diploma. And he didn't want Jean-Paul to hate him. When ever he upset his father the man wouldn't let him eat for two days - more if he got drunk and forgot. He didn't know what Jean-Paul would do and that scared him even more.

"No I just… you really want this? Like, want this with me?"

"Yeah." Jean-Paul shrugged. He didn't really wait for Oliver to say yes before he leaned in and kissed him on the lips. The contact made Oliver feel strange. Not bad but not good and he kept pulling away when ever Jean-Paul moved his hands. What was he doing? Oliver kept expecting an attack of some sort. Oliver felt like his brain short circuited when he felt Jean's tongue on his bottom lip. Before he could stop himself he was bitting down. "AH!" He pulled back and shoved Oliver away in the same movement. He put his hand over his mouth to sooth the sting.

"Merde! I'm sorry!" Oliver apologized quickly. When Jean-Paul glared at him he inched further away. He pulled his hand back from his mouth and they both gasped when they saw blood. Without a word Jean-Paul got up and went to look in a mirror. He dabbed at it with tissues and let of a slow sigh once he got it cleaned up a little.

"Those teeth of yours are…" He trailed off when he turned around and realized Oliver was gone. Rather than chase after him Jean-Paul just went down stairs for an ice pack.