Title: Strange Encounters                                                                                     

Date: 06/14/03

Author: Water-Soter

Main Characters/Pairings:  Scott, Jean, Professor X, Bobby, Warren, Hank, Logan, Ororo.

Series:  The Road Home Book I Part 2

Feedback: Absolutely! I'm new at this, so please don't burn me at the stake. Nevertheless I will appreciate any comments or suggestions you have on this story J. Write to me at www.Water_Soter@yahoo.com

Disclaimer: These characters belong to Marvel comics and the almighty Stan Lee. It's free so please don't take the shirt of my back J.

Warning: this story contains mild mentions of rape, violence and foul language. So be warned, if you're easily offended, please don't read. Otherwise J be afraid, be very afraid . . . hee! ha ha ha ha  (diabolical laugh!).

Squishy  thoughts          "Yummy"  spoken         Whoopee   telepathy

"WHAT?" Warren's voice echoed throughout the kitchen, where he, Hank, Jean, Bobby were having breakfast. "I can't believe the professor let a complete stranger stay here."

"Don't you mean . . . a poor person," Bobby snorted lightly, rolling his eyes at his friend

"NO! You know me better than that, Drake." Warren stated, annoyed. "The guy could be a psycho for all we know!"

"I believe our winged friend has a point. What assurances do we have that the child won't attempt to commit some perverse ritualistic deed? Perhaps . . . a mass murder?" Hank spoke, trying unsuccessfully to keep a straight face. That comment earned him a dirty look from Warren. Jean merely rolled her eyes at them, and Bobby stuffed himself with Lucky Charms. "He's harmless, Warren. Besides, the professor would never let anyone stay if he thought they were dangerous," Jean explained, exasperated. I knew it was a bad idea to tell them, but the professor wanted them to know. *Sigh*, how can Warren think Scott to be dangerous, he's just a little kid for Christ sake, not that much older than Bobby. What's wrong with him, I've never seen him act so . . . snobbish. Jean though exasperated, unaware that her friend had spoken to her. "Huh?"

Sighing dramatically, Hank stared at his redheaded friend. "I had previously inquired about the whereabouts of our guest."

"Oh, he's still asleep. The professor asked me to give him a tour of the mansion after breakfast."

Warren nearly choked on his milk. "By yourself?" He asked, incredulous. "No way! I'm going with you."

Bobby and Hank rolled their eyes at him, while Jean merely gave him a hard look.

"Listen Worthington," Jean said in a tone that made lesser men quiver at her feet, "I don't need you playing mister macho, I can take care of myself"

And to emphasize her point, she telekinetically lifted her dishes from the table and practically threw them into the sink. Stalking off as the room shook with her departure.

"Damn! I think you pissed her off." Bobby muttered as Warren shot him a dirty look and climbed to his feet to follow Jean.

Bobby watched Warren leave, deciding he was going to hover near those two. "Man, there's gonna be trouble."

"Your perception of the obvious is rather remarkable," Hank deadpanned, as he imagined what Jean was going to do to Warren when she found out he'd been following them. "I will ensure that our Med Lab is well stocked. If Jeannie has anything to do with it, Warren will find himself needing the facilities in the next couple of days."

Bobby merely nodded feeling sorry for the guy, then grinned thinking gleefully, This is going to be fun!

He could feel hands grabbing him, holding him down on the dirty ground. So many hands, so many voices making the fear in him spike-up sharply. He couldn't move, gasping for breath as another pair stripped off his clothing. He struggled, fighting back as hard as he could as futile as it was. The painful hard grip was nothing compared to the terrible feel of them ripping into him. And God It hurt! Burning hot pain seeping throughout his small frame, all too familiar but just as bad as it had been the first time. Unbearable, and his mind screamed what his mouth was unable too, It hurts, it hurts, it hurts. Please God! Make it stop, please . . . it hurts so much . . .  

"No," Scott gasped, as he woke with a start by a loud pounding on the door. A thin film of sweat made his t-shirt stick to his thin body. Breathing heavily, the boy tried to get his bearings.

Where am I? Scott thought with dread. He was on a bed, smooth, warm. Holding his breath to listen to the faintest of sounds. After a few moments of silence, the young boy frantically moved his hands around, making sure the he was in fact the sole occupant. The sheets were soft and clean. It was something he wasn't used to, but he assumed that a expensive school like this would have nice stuff. Being "blind" had forced him to be observant of his surroundings. Smell, sound, touch and even taste had kept him alive so far. Although coming here might as well be a death wish. 

A knock at the door startled him, nearly making the brunet jump out of bed. In a rush, the noise brought to the surface more unpleasant memories that he quickly suppressed, not wanting to take a trip down "memory lane" for a second time today and it was already morning. Taking a few breaths to compose himself, Scott answered quietly, trying to keep the anxiety out of his voice, "yeah?"

"Um . . . it's me, Jean. The girl you met yesterday," she responded a little nervous. "It's kinda late, and I was wondering if you wanted to go down the kitchen for some breakfast. Then if you want, I'll give you a tour of the school."

A tour . . . and food? Scott thought suspiciously, but his stomach's growl made him push that aside for now. "Yeah."

With a shrug, he got out of bed and blindly made his way to the bathroom. Man! I wish I had time to take a shower. This place probably has water pressure and real soap,

Catching that stray thought, Jean berated herself Stupid! Of course he'd want to take a shower. God knows how long it's been since he's had a chance for a decent one.

"Um . . . you'd probably want to take a shower so I'll wait for you, okay?"

"Are you trying to tell me something?" Scott answered with a hint of amusement etching in his voice.

Oh God! Jean immediately answered obviously embarrass. "I just thought that you wanted . . . I mean that . . ." She abruptly stopped talking, "I'll just let you get ready." She sighed and left, her footsteps echoing along the hallway.

Despite his suspicions, Scott found himself smiling at the thought of the girl's obvious embarrassment. Shaking his head, Scott began to familiarize himself with the bathroom, committing everything to memory. The fresh pine scent, the smooth marble sink, nothing remotely similar to the bathrooms in the motel rooms, public johns, or any other he had been too. Part of him wanted to cry, while another wanted to freeze time so he could stay in this place forever. This was just too good to be true.

"So, the kid finally showed up." The mysterious man known only as Logan stated as he leaned against the antique oak paneling in the headmaster's office. Gruff looking with light stubble on his double shinned jaw line. Steel blue eyes that held too much knowledge possible for someone his age.     

"You doubted he would?"

"Wasn't sure 'Ro. He's a street kid. They don't trust," he stated as a matter-of-fact eying the young African goddess.

"Perhaps, but he is here now, that is all that matters." Ororo Munroe spoke with the same strength and elegance that she displayed in her command over the elements. A beauty that held true to her given title. Eyes too blue for her mocha silk skin.     

"Yeah, well, the kid must've been desperate, or just too burned out to give a damn," Logan said gruffly with a hint of sadness.

"The child has had a hard life, I do not believe he would have survived much longer." Charles Xavier, who'd kept silent, finally spoke. His voice strong, assertive, but an underlying sadness that was mirrored in his hazel gaze. Young in his profession, with an intellect that made him capable of finishing a double doctorate in both psychology and genetics at twenty-five. "We must tread carefully my friends." 

"How can we heal him, Charles?"

"It is a delicate process, Ororo, one we must not take lightly or hasten." Charles stated calmly.

"So what do ya have in mind, Chuck?" Logan asked, pushing himself off the wall to stand next to the weather goddess' chair.

"Trust is invaluable to all, we must strive to gain his. Ororo, I believe that with your previous experiences, you will be best suited to accomplish this."   

"Very well Charles, but do you not think that Logan's presence might serve to put him at ease?"

With a proud smile, Charles replied, "Of course, Ororo, I don't know how something so pivotal could slip my mind."

"You're getting old Bub,"

"That coming from an antique,"

"It's always the quiet ones."

"Ahem, Ororo, Logan, it has been a very long day. If you would excuse me, I think I will retire for the evening."

"Yes of course Charles." The weather goddess said, getting up and proceeding to exit the office followed closely by Logan.

"G'night Chuck."

"Goodnight, and please, behave yourselves." Charles added with a smirk, lightning blazing outside.

"Wouldn't think of it." Logan returned the smirk closing the door as quietly as possible, leaving a very amused man to settle his thoughts.

Today had been tiring, but with the knowledge that the Scott was finally with them, safe, he would be able to get a goodnight's rest. 

Tum! Tum! Tum! . . . To be continued J.