This Fic is Co-Written, it is being written by two different people. Tearra writes odd numbered chapters, and Mai writes even numbered chapters. Tearra's chapters will be written in the PoV of T, her original character, T. Mai's chapters will be written in the PoV of Dean, her character.

Notes- Hi I'm Mai! I wrote Strangers with Candy. No, I'm not done with that fic yet; I'll finish it eventually. This is a project my bestest friend, Tearra, and I are taking on. It has to do with our OCs. We decided to co-write this fic. Oh and the last chap was written by Tearra! Yah

Disclaimer- I don't own the Xmen, or T [T belongs to Tearra], but I do own Dean. I also own Dean's past and anything related to him.

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Dean's PoV

For a really long time, I had been moving from place to place, I think my last stable home was somewherein Idaho. Though I'm not quite sure. All I know, was that today I was going to be moving to Bayville, New York to meet some loaded Professor who has a soft spot for mutants who've had the hard-knock life. It sounds fine to me. I have no problem living in a mansion, and in return being a superhero whenever I'm asked to be one. A superhero, ha. This would be a first. I think for most of my life, I've been on the other side. But is this entirely my fault? No, no it isn't.

The bus ride had been really long, and it had been annoying too. There was this old lady sitting on the row across from me, and for the first two hours she had told me all about her seven grandchildren, who she was going to visit. They lived in Connecticut. But now the old lady was snoring loudly. I know a lot about her grandchildren now, but who knows, maybe it will help me later in life. There was actually a lot of aggravating people on this bus. In the very front, there was a little girl who was traveling alone. She looked about six, and had been crying constantly for a while now. The bus driver was either deaf or maybe he just didn't care. I hope it's the second one, because being in a bus where a deaf man is driving sounds really unsafe. And in the very back of the bus, a teenage girl who looked maybe two years younger than me was talking on her cell phone talking really loudly about Susan's nose job. This had been her conversation topic of choice while on the phone for about fifteen minutes now. How long could she discuss Susan's nose job anyway? I really don't know. Luckily, the bus ride was almost over. Because, even though I have a lot of patience, I still had a limit.

I got off at my stop at exactly five New York time; the sky was already going dark. My bus stop was about ten miles away from the mansion I would be staying at. I took in my first glance of Bayville. It looked perfectly normal residential area. The grass was really green everywhere and there were even sidewalks. I think this was one of the few times I had been in such a nice neighborhood, and I immediately became uncomfortable. I wondered if the locals would be able to smell my fear, and if they would attack. I looked around at the people who were out in their yards to see if any of them had noticed that I was a complete outsider. No one appeared to have. I seemed to be good for now.

Only one other person had gotten off the Greyhound bus at this stop, the other person, a creepy looking man in a trenchcoat, walked away mumbling something and twitching. I was pleased to notice that he was walking in the opposite was that I was going. Somehow, I didn't want to walk near him because I would afraid he would jump me.

I could easily have walked the ten miles to the rich Professor's mansion, and I had told the guy on the phone that, but they had insisted that instead I walk half a mile to a restaurant, and meet someone. Which was fine with me. So, I started to walk in the other direction, the creepy guy was going. Of course, the entire way to the restaurant was side-walked, and there were even flowers lining that. It really made me feel out of place. My childhood, I admit, was really sad. Actually, I don't really like to talk about it. As far as I'm concerned, childhood is a test. And if you get through it, then you don't need to ever think, or talk about it again. It's something everyone has to go through, but once you're out of it, it's over. I'd like to think that I (finally) passed my stupid childhood and now I can live semi-normally. If you consider fighting crimes in a spandex suit normal that is.

I reached the restaurant it was called the Gut Bomb. Lovely, what a perfectly lovely name for a restaurant; it makes me want to go there so much. I went inside. I remembered what the guy on the phone, who'd said his name was Roberto said. "You're looking for a really happy looking girl with really, really, really bright red hair. She looks a little bit like Ariel from 'The Little Mermaid'. She's who will be picking you up."

Unfortunately, I don't think I've ever seen 'The Little Mermaid'. But I'm pretty sure it was a Disney movie or something. But, however, I did see a really bright red head. The girl had a huge smile pasted on her face; she was wearing tight khaki pants and a purple shirt. She was standing next to a girl who had dark brown hair; the other girl had on a white jacket and pink capris. I walked over to them, feeling even more out of place. Both of them dressed like models, and it was apparent they had gotten their clothes at one of those monster chains like Abercrombie or Gap. I was dressed in ragged blue jeans and a stained white shirt; I only had one bag. It was a black, torn up backpack I had had since forever. The red head girl smiled at me.

"You're Dean Keery, aren't you?" she asked and grabbed my hand before I could answer. "I'm Jean Grey, I just know that you'll love the institute. We're so glad to have you! You'll make tons of friends, all with people who are just as gifted as you are!"

I blinked a few times; she was a little bit scary.

"Come on, I'll drive us to the institute. I can't wait to show you around. Come on Amara!" she said. The other girl, who I guess was Amara, hadn't said anything yet.

"This is Amara's first recruiting trip. She's sort of new too," Jean said then added "She goes to the institute." As if I couldn't figure out that she went to the institute.

Jean and Amara began to walk out of the restaurant, I followed.

Jean's car was a huge, green SUV; how very typical. She got into the front seat, and I climbed into the back with Amara. Jean turned up the radio to some pop station where a whiny voiced singer sang loudly.

"Did you spend your entire life on the streets, or what?" Amara asked me, she was sitting as far away from me as she could and was looking at me like I was a highly contagious leper.

"Only most of it," I responded and I wasn't lying.

Amara turned her nose up to me, and tried to sit even farther than she already was, which was impossible since she was already pressed against the car door. Just to be annoying, I scooted a few inches toward her, and her eyes went wide. I would've kept doing this, but it seems we had arrived at the institute.

I wished I had been looking out of the window during the car ride instead of the inside of the car, because I had no idea how I had gotten to this gigantic mansion. The Xavier mansion was the biggest place I had ever seen in my life. It had more windows, then the last place I had stayed at had had rooms. It was sad, yes, but true. There were huge iron gates that opened when Jean pressed a button up by the rearview mirror. And the lawn was, of course, a perfect green. It also seemed to go on forever. Jean drove up the long driveway that was maybe a third of a mile long, and parked in front of the mansion. She opened her door and hopped out. Amara got out as quickly as she could, opening the door as fast as possible, and ended up falling out of the car and onto her face. She got up and ran into the mansion.

Jean smiled at me as I got out, "Welcome to the Xmansion!" she said.

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Notes: Did it suck? Did you like it? Do you feel like you know my OC, Dean, semi-well now? Please tell me what you thought.

Notes2- THIS CHAPTER WAS BY MAI MAI! THE NEXT CHAPTER IS BY TEARRA!!!

-Mai