A/N - This is my second "big" story in the works! I finally got to editing it and cleaning it up, so here we have it. Chapter one! Of... no idea, because it's not finished. So, it's a little dark in the first couple of chapters as we get the memories/trauma/big bad stuff out of the way, but it does lighten up pretty quick, and we move on to all the cutesy mushy happy CG/L stuff.
Chapter One: Breakdown
Having been classified as a "little" wasn't something that anyone typically worried about keeping secret around the Xavier Mansion. The school was their home, their safe place, where they were well cared for, able to thrive and grow. Granted, keeping ones classification a secret was difficult in the first place—signs showing from an early age, even before they're officially tested, but even if they managed, the Professor was able to pick up on even the smallest of hints without having to use his powers. Every little, no matter their age or age 'range' had varying needs and urges, which presented themselves without said little meaning for them to.
Though, within the safe walls of the school, not many were too concerned about trying to keep any of it hidden regardless. It was always easier, for them and those around them (especially the caregivers), when they accepted what they were and allowed themselves to be cared for properly. It helped them heal from past traumas, excel in their schoolwork, and get along well with their friends and classmates.
Of course, when it came to having to do more 'grown up' things, such as schoolwork or their daily chores, they were always given what was called 'aftercare', and helped right back into their proper headspace, ensuring they were happy and safe, both mentally and physically.
Chris was the exception. When the young mutant first arrived at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, he adamantly refused to talk about his classification, not even answering the most basic questions that would typically help a student settle in comfortably. All of the caregivers knew he was a little, judging from that reaction alone, but he seemed… ashamed. Fearful, almost, of the fact.
Knowing that it was a sensitive topic for the boy, though not informed as to exactly why, the school's resident caregivers were asked to take it easy on him. Don't force him to participate in any of the typical little activities that the other students flocked to, don't 'mother-hen' him, as Jean and Logan were well known to do. They needed to take it easy and treat him almost as though he hadn't been classified at all, providing him with only the basic essentials until he was ready to accept what he truly needed.
Though Chris had never said this out loud, Professor Xavier knew that the boy was immensely grateful for all of that. As with all new littles, he was given a 'gift bag' upon his arrival, though he didn't open it until he was alone, and per school rules, he had to wear protective underwear at all times, but they let him have the privilage of pull-ups, as his true age was not determined, and they were under orders to be gentle.
As time went on, the rules set by the Professor became harder and harder to abide by though. It became apparent rather quickly that Chris was not just a little, his age fell on the younger side of the scale, and he would, if he ever allowed himself to be tested, likely be one of the youngest at the school. At best guess, Professor Xavier would guess him to be about two or three, at the absolute oldest, but he was wel practiced in hiding his more prominent little traits, and to anyone who didn't know better, he could present as old as eight or nine.
But he struggled, a lot, with tasks that littles even just a couple of years older could easily handle. Occasionally, Jean or Ororo would attempt to assist him, as he didn't seem quite as afraid of the female caregivers as the males, but he refused all of their offered assistance, and took to running away or hiding.
That didn't mean these things went unseen, though. If not by a caregiver, then any passing little who witnessed would happily 'tattle' on him. Chris never got into trouble for his slip-ups though, simply asked about them. He'd deny most of what happened, even if the evidence was still very clearly present, or try to make up an excuse for the incident.
Many cups were dropped, drinks spilled (littles under the age of six were required to use sippy cups, but he wouldn't use them unless someone else fixed it—as he couldn't screw the tops on right), he would have trouble feeding himself with certain utensils and spilled plates of food (when he actually ate food that was cooked, which wasn't often, and decreased when he realized he would keep slipping up). More often than not, his clothes were mismatched, he couldn't tie his shoes (which as soon as this was noticed, his laced sneakers were replaced with velcro with no one saying anything otherwise), and while he attended his required classes, it was obvious that it was difficult for him to pay attention, and the longer he stayed, he'd often start to drift off, and his grades were quite poor.
As with all students, he was required to attend 'counseling' sessions with Professor Xavier. Everyone who came in started with one appointment a week, to assess their situation, mental state, health, and evaluate them for the Professor's own specialized 'Mutant Little Adoption Program'. If all went well, once they were initialized into the program, they no longer attended counseling unless something was bothering them, but at that point, they could see any available caregiver.
Chris saw Professor Xavier twice a week, as he'd been doing since he arrived at the school just over a year to date. The boy was heavily traumatized by what happened to him prior to his arrival at the school, though he had only divulged the smallest bits of information now and then about the incidents. Professor Xavier didn't pry often, focusing more on trying to get the young mutant to open up emotionally, to try to accept himself, to make friends. They only wanted to help, after all, but he was so guarded, so afraid, that even after a year, his walls still held strong, though they held many cracks.
Thus far, the Professor had limited knowledge on him, but kept everything in a special file, as all students had one. The information that went into the Adoption Program was minimal, the full documents only being released once a potential caregiver had passed all of the Professor's extensive interviewing processes and were deemed suitable for the little they were interested in.
Chris was homeless when he was found, weak, starving, and fairly injured. He was on the run, from something, or someone, which the Professor easily guessed was his home (many mutants were on the run from their home—human parents weren't always accepting of having mutant children). He'd claimed to have sought help from someone in the area, but was quickly turned away, and hadn't tried a second time, afraid of what might happen if he ran across someone who may attack him for his mutation.
On Chris's good days, as he called them, he was able to hide the physical aspects of his mutation, or at least most of them, the only true giveaway being his golden eyes, but on 'bad days', or when he was upset, scared, or his little side was more in control, an adorable pair of fluffy black ears would pop up at the top of his head, accompanied by a matching tail. If one looked closely, they could see little claws and pointed teeth as well.
Aside from the physical attributes, the boy was also able to hear, see, and smell much better than most others in the mansion, aside from perhaps Logan, and his ability to heal faster than normal proved to be most useful during times where he'd accidentally get hurt. (Such as when using a knife in the kitchen, despite the rules against littles using sharp objects, or when he'd get scraped up from falling outside or running around in the forest.)
Now, Professor Xavier could have easily slipped through Chris' mental barriers and found out anything and everything he wanted to know, but aside from putting into place a rule to not use your powers against others in the school (unless it was for their benefit, such as Jean using her telekinesis to carry students to bed), he knew that such an act would be counterproductive, likely destroying any trust the mutant had grown to have in the older man. Despite the time it took, the numerous sessions, and possibility of years of needed therapy, he wanted to do this the right way, to ensure that Chris healed. That he came out of this better, not worse.
When Friday came around, Chris showed up a few minutes late to his appointment, and Professor Xavier knew immediately that something was wrong. Chris was never late. In fact, he was always at least five minutes early, listening in to make sure the Professor was alone before even knocking.
Aside from that, the boy's ears and tail were out, his ears folded back, tail tucked between his legs as he had his arms tucked into the pocket of his hoodie. His emotions were running high, bouncing around with such force that anyone he passed might have been able to sense it. His golden eyes were damp with forced back tears as well, and without a word, he motioned for Chris to sit.
The mutant hesitated, but did as asked, pulling his legs up and squirming a little uncomfortably. "I can see that you're quite upset today. Has something happened?"
The question was enough to break whatever resolve the boy had left—whatever was plaguing his mind was too much and he let out a sob, tears streaming down his face, which he quickly tried to wipe away with his hands, which the Professor noticed were much more paw-like now. The more emotional the young mutant was, the more canine-like, the more like a puppy he became, and while no one had seen him shift to a full canine form, Professor Xavier thought it might be within his power to do so, with practice.
As it was, the physical mutations were quite adorable—though Chris never believed anyone who said so.
Having handled much more fierce, and quite frank, destructive breakdowns in his time, the Professor was well prepared for this; he'd been expecting a break eventually, hoping for it, as it was one of the biggest steps towards truly healing.
"You are safe here, Chris. You can talk with me about anything; you know I won't judge you. No one at the school will." Logically, Chris knew that—so far, no one had judged him for any of his odd behaviours. Sure, he got the occasional odd look or heard another student question one of the caregivers about him, but no one had said or done anything mean… that he knew of.
Still, the young mutant remained quiet, continuing to cry for what felt like forever, until he seemed to simply run out of tears. At that point, he was just tired, so very tired, and he wanted nothing more than to run back to his room (that he, unfortunately, shared with another male little) and hide under his blanket for the rest of his life, but… he knew he couldn't do that.
There were still classes to go to, he still had to shower... eat… the caregivers would be all over him if he didn't.
Now that he was worn out, sobs reduced to sniffles and the occasional stray tear, he dared to look up at Professor Xavier, big golden eyes looking so innocent, so young. It hurt the Professor to know how much he had to have suffered to be the way he is now, but that was precisely why Chris was here, why they had these sessions. Even if it took years more, which he honestly didn't believe it would take much longer at all, he was going to ensure that Chris would be able to love his life as all littles should—happy, healthy, and well cared for.
If things went how he planned, how he hoped, his charge would eventually be adopted, taken in by a loving caregiver, a Mother or Father (Mommy, Daddy, Mama, Papa—the young ones called them all sorts of names, though Mommy and Daddy were most common) who would show him all the love he could ever hope to have.
"Are you feeling a bit better now?" Chris nodded, just the slightest movement, but it was still enough for Professor Xavier to see. "You work so hard at keeping everything locked away. It was only a matter of time before it became too much, even for you." He knew Chris was strong, stronger than most others he'd encountered, of any classification, but all the pain, fear, that rolled off of him in waves would have eventually become too much for anyone to hold in. "Tell me, why is it you are so afraid of accepting all that you are?"
For a few minutes, when he received no response, the Professor briefly believed he may not get one at all, and that it was only a matter of time before Chris retreated to his room… but still he waited, patiently waiting.
"I.. wh.. when…" Chris took a deep breath, rubbing at his eyes. This was terrifying, for reasons he didn't even fully understand, and he deeply wished, though he'd never openly admit it, that he had something to hold onto, to comfort and soothe him—perhaps a teddy bear like many of his classmates seemed to have on them at most times or even… no, he shook the thought of a pacifier out of his head. That was for babies. "W-When my f-family found… found out… they… t-they didn't… take it well…" Knowing he couldn't tell it all, that the words would never come, he opened his mind, allowing the Professor to see inside, to see everything.