A Demon is Disguise: Chapter Three

Ironic, Logan decided.

It was ironic that the one he has been looking for had found him instead. At least, it had to be him. No normal person could have pulled off that little disappearing act like he just had.

A pregnant pause followed the boy's question, the only response being given were the breaths of air made visible by the cold emitting from Logan's mouth, reeking of beer and smoke.

After a moment of silence and Logan still hadn't answered, more pressure was applied onto the ice-cold blade and into the flesh of his throat, right above his carotid artery.

Easy, Logan. He's just a kid.

A mutant kid. A kid who was probably just scared and confused and alone.

"Don't worry. I ain't gonna hurt ya'," Logan did his best to sound assuring. He adopted a relaxed stance, hands out and open to convey his peaceful intentions. The boy though, he merely laughed at his attempts. A humorless, slightly amused laugh.

"Oh? I'm not sure you have full comprehension of our situation here," the boy replied, pressing the blade in deeper, still, "If anyone is going to get hurt, it's you."

Twisted and savage words were spoken rather eloquently through a smooth accent. Logan frowned at this, he imagined this meeting going with a lot less homicidal tendencies. Now, he wasn't so sure about this kid. How broken was his humanity that he threatened harm to those who did not threaten him?

"Look, I just wanna talk," a task that was becoming increasingly difficult with sharpened steel digging into his throat, "I'm like you. Different, I mean. There's a whole school of us back at the States, and we want to help you," Logan hoped that his argument was a convincing one. And perhaps it was as the pressure on the blade had lessened and the boy said nothing, contemplating his words. Wondering what the man actually meant by them.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the blade was completely removed from his throat and Logan breathed a sigh of relief. He was never in any actual danger, he could have turned the tables any time he wanted. He was just happy that the kid had willingly put the weapon down himself.

There was hope for him yet. Unless, of course, he flat out refuted the offer.

"Go back to where ever you came from. You are nothing like me," were the next words that came out of his mouth. The amusement was still in there, only now there was something else layered beneath it. Something very close to fear, but not quite. Trepidation? Caution?

Whatever it was, Logan wouldn't stand for it. He did not pull a five thousand mile trip and spent seven days in a foreign country looking for some punk only to have been turned down on the spot. Swallowing back a growl, he steadied his nerves and calmed his emotions before replying.

"No," he said, tone stern and final, a tone that was usually reserved for the students if they were misbehaving. Twisting his torso around just enough to face this kid for the first time, he felt the last bit of his reserve empty out like sand in an hourglass. Mouth slightly gaping, he was met with a pair of glowing, amber eyes set in a midnight-blue face.

The scarf and the hood had long since been discarded as the mutant presented himself to this stranger. One part of him was reminding him that this was one of his dumbest ideas ever. How long had he managed to stay under the radar now? In a town where he had grown rather comfortable in, no less. And of course, Azazel would be none too pleased if he ever found out how Kurt just revealed himself.

And yet, there was another part of him that was viciously happy. Maybe now this well-to-do American would realize that his was a lost cause. That once he's seen how the person he wanted to "help" was utterly demonic, he would react just like everyone else and run away.

Of course, Kurt wouldn't be able to let that happen. Very few humans had ever seen him and lived to tell the tale. And he had every intention enforcing this rule.

Much to the German's surprise; however, neither of the two things happened.

The man's eyes did not widen in fear and disgust, and nor did he attempt to make a run for it. Instead, his hulking body simply turned around fully to completely face the much shorter teleporter. Eyebrows scrunching in confusion, Kurt stiffened as his grip on the blade tightened.

"Let's start again. I'm Logan. An' I'm here 'cause we thought you could use our help," the man, Logan as he called himself, spoke resolutely revealing that beneath the gruff exterior lay an educated man.

At this point, only pure curiosity and befuddlement impelled Kurt to hear him out.

"And who exactly is "we"?"

"Like I said, a school of us, of mutants, back at the states."

He had always been aware of the existence of other mutants, several of his father's acquaintances were of such _. Kurt also knew that technically he was a mutant as well, though that implied he was also human, albeit genetically altered. And human was the last thing that Kurt could identify himself as.

Pushing these thoughts away, he mulled over Logan's words. So an American school of mutants wanted to help him. Help him with what exactly? Needless to say, he had his suspicions.

"Government affiliated?" Kurt asked casually, not taking his eyes off the man.

"No, of course not," Logan assured, snorting at the mere absurdity that the government would be of any help with their situation, "it's a privately funded school, headed by Professor Xavier."

"I see," the blue mutant mused, wracking his brain over that name as he was pretty sure he had heard it somewhere before. Finally, with an air of resignation, he shrugged and pulled his hood back up.

"As... generous.. as your offer is, my response is still the same. Go back, and leave me alone."

He made as if to move, but Logan would have none of it. Reaching out with one hand, he grabbed the kid's jacket and held him back.

"Now you listen-"

Before Logan could carry out his threat, the kid had simply vanished through his fingertips, leaving nothing but a blaze of smoke and the smell of sulfur in his place.

"You were saying?" the blue mutant said playfully, or perhaps mockingly, from several feet in front of Logan, just an arm's sweep away from where he was.

A teleporter. No wonder he was so hard to find with Cerebro. Just great.

"Listen, kid-"

"-Kurt," he supplied helpfully, not willing to admit that he was beginning to like this newcomer. Short tempered fools were always fun to mess with, in his own opinion anyway.

".. Kurt," Logan repeated, tasting the name in his mouth before deciding that it suited, "We can offer you protection and a home. Do you have anything like that here?"

Judging by the fact that the only reply Logan got to that was a pair of smoldering, amber eyes staring back at him, he assumed not. No other expression crossed his face as a pregnant pause soon followed. When Kurt finally moved, he did it to brush away the snowflakes that had clung to his hair with a three-digit'ed hand that Logan had just noticed for the first time.

Kurt caught the direction of his gaze and laughed in a way that revealed his canine-like teeth.

"I also have a tail," he mentioned with a tone that Logan mistook for sarcasm. Then he realized that no, no it wasn't. He actually did have a tail.

"Look," the blue mutant said in all seriousness, the play gone from his words, "you don't want me at your precious school. I do not belong around others."

He deserved only solitude. Even if he hadn't meant it, the kid may have let some years of pent up misery creep into his voice, which did not go unnoticed by Logan. If he was brutally honest, which he often was, then he would have to admit that the kid was certainly a sight.

No normal person could ever accept him, and Kurt knew that. And for the instances when someone did catch sight of him? Logan could only imagine how those went. Perhaps the kid had learned how to run, hide, and commit to drastic measures to ensure his own safety.

If that was the case, then Logan was fine with that. After all, there was no telling what he himself might have done for the same reason, or for a less honorable cause. If the nightmares were of any indication, then he must have done some fucked up shit back in the day.

Either way, he knew that this kid couldn't be forced into anything.

"I'm leaving back to the states in three days, if you change your mind you know where to find me," he offered, obviously referring to the bar. Kurt merely nodded, agreeing even though he was pretty sure he wouldn't take up the offer.

"Noted," was the last thing that the two mutants had exchanged on that night. Neither knowing or aware that they would in fact be seeing a lot more of each other very soon.

AN: Don't forget, Logan was right about some things, but also Kurt just killed people for the heck of it. Azazel was a bad daddy. By the way, sorry for the language in this one. Then again, I'm pretty sure I've already rated this story M, so naughty language should have been expected.

Thanks goes to Zewy, San child of the wolves, L.O.L., jordylilly777, LookPassMe, and snowwolfninjaprincess-23 for reviewing. And to everyone else who has fave'd or alert'ed.