A/N: *stands there looking starstruck* wow... The reception this story received... just... wow... My first time being accepted into a community, and SO MANY VIEWS! It normally takes WEEKS for my stories to get over a thousand, and I think this one has the most views of any fic I've written TO DATE!

Thank you so much for your support! You have no idea how happy it makes me!

Also, by popular demand, Logan (who wasn't really going to have much of a major part) is now going to be pro-harry/alex (eventually). I had one request for a good!Hermione, too; anyone else want to add to that? If you want a certain character, let me know in a review and I'll try (no guarantees, though; if they're Harry Potter it will almost definitely happen unless i have some reason for them not to, if they're Marvel based? My knowledge isn't the best... I'll try!

I think I'll make this follow the Wolverine and the X-Men TV series on ABC3/NickToons. Also, I know that quite a few of the characters are going to be very OOC; please don't judge me!

Warning: this chapter contains semi-graphic abuse

CHAPTER 7

"Freak!" shouted an angry Vernon as they got home from the station, "I'll show you for spreading lies to those freaks!"

The walrus ran as fast as his flabby body could carry him to the kitchen, returning with a large, sharp knife. Harry cowered in fear, knowing what was coming. Another word was to be added.

Harry cried out as the tip of the blade pierced the skin of his lower back, Vernon spelling out the letters as he carved them permanently into his nephew's skin.

Murderer.

Right underneath 'Demon', 'Freak' and 'Monster', all branded upon the young teens back in Vernon's horrible handwriting.

Alex woke with a scream. Instantly, Remy and the blue man with the soft voice - Kurt - were in the room. Alex flinched, curling in on himself.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" He kept sobbing, over and over and over again.

"Remy?" questioned Kurt quietly as they watched on hopelessly.

"His old 'family' be leavin' him wit' some nasty memories, an' some nastier scars," muttered Remy angrily, "dey will pay fo' hurtin' him!"

"Vat did zey do to him?" demanded the angry German. Remy shrugged.

"He was very vague, didn' want ta discuss dem," sighed Remy, "don' blame him. I did see some scars on his back, t'ough not very clear. Dere be lots, t'ough, an' dey be very deep an' very old."

"I might be able to help him," mumbled Kurt reluctantly. Remy's eyes snapped to him.

"How would dat be, hnn?" he asked, intrigued.

"Zat vould be between me unt him, I am afraid," said Kurt defensively, "it is a very private matter."

Remy narrowed his eyes, but nodded as Alex seemed to calm a little, his wild eyes becoming more focused.

"I be leavin' yo' ta try an' help mon petit," he said, eyeballing Kurt, "but if yo' be doin' anyt'in ta hurt him, I be comin' afte' yo' wit' everyt'in' I can t'ink of."

Kurt nodded, turning to the rapidly calming teenager as Gambit closed the door behind him.

"Vould you like some vater?" asked Kurt quietly, so as not to startle the trembling child in front of him. Alex nodded shakily. Popping away with a strange sounding 'pfft' and a swirl of red, Nightcrawler returned moments later with a small glass.

"Don't drink it too fast or it will make you sick," he murmured gently, moving slowly to crouch near Alex's knees on the bed.

"Vould you like to talk about it?" he asked. Alex adamantly shook his head, making Kurt sigh.

"If I vent first, vould you svap a nightmare for a nightmare?"

Alex considered a moment, and then nodded. Kurt squeezed his eyes shut, taking a deep breath, before beginning his story, tail swishing gently behind him.

"As a young boy, my family vas very strictly Casolic. Ven I began to change - to turn blue unt jump from place to place - zey believed me to be possessed by a demon. Zey tried to beat ze 'evil' out of me, unt ven zat failed, zey carved vords into my back as reminderz zat I vas not normal."

Kurt exhaled shakily, body trembling as he turned and pulled his shirt up slightly so that Alex could see the pale scars.

'Freak'. 'Demon'. 'Monster'.

"Vill you trade vun nightmare for anozer?" he whispered, eyes clenched. He had never shared this with another; only because he recognised the signs of similar treatment and because he felt like he needed to help did he speak now of the horrors of his past.

He didn't notice Alex shuffling slowly up the bed until he was wrapped in a hug. He returned the sentiment, gladly accepting the comfort as a single tear crept its way over his discoloured face.

"My mother was a magical witch, born to a non-magical family," he began, accent suddenly British, in a voice so soft he struggled to hear. "Because of this, my aunt was jealous. My mother was everything she wasn't; smart, beautiful, talented and – now – magical. My mum was the perfect daughter. My aunt resented her all of her life.

"When my parents were murdered when I was a baby, my stupid headmaster placed me with my aunt and her bigoted husband so I could be protected by 'blood wards'."

Kurt could hear the sneer in the words, though they were softer than a whisper.

"My accidental magic caused them to hate me. When I was four, I lost almost all use of my left hand because my aunt held it in the hot plate for a full minute after I accidentally burnt the hollandaise sauce for their precious son's birthday Eggs Benedict. I still have major nerve damage in that hand; it's absolutely useless to me now."

He laughed bitterly, pulling away from the hug and drawing his knees up, clasping he arms around them as he continued to speak.

"When I was five and went to school for the first time, I believed my name was Boy or Freak, and I'd grown up in the cupboard under the stairs. I panicked when the teacher told me my name was Harry instead of those things and accidentally turned her hair blue.

"When I got home that night, 'Demon' was carved into my back for my 'demonic powers'."

Kurt was about to pull him back when he continued.

"In my fourth year at Hogwarts - the magic school - there was a tournament. By some twist of fate, both myself and the guy I had been dating at the time ended up competing. At the end of that year, he was murdered right in front of me and I was used in a ritual to bring back this century's dark lord. When I had nightmares at the Dursley's, they found out that I was gay and that I had aided - however reluctantly - a killer in returning.

"That night, they carved 'Freak' and 'Monster' into my back, right underneath 'Demon'.

"But my nightmare tonight was of this summer," Alex's - or was his name Harry? - story began to wind down.

"My godfather was the closest connection to my parents that I had. I did something stupid, and I got him killed. My stupid headmaster and his little group of vigilantes told the Dursley's to 'go easy on me' because he died.

"They branded me a murderer the night when w-e got h-ome."

Alex broke down in sobs, turning his face into Kurt as the blue man - who was so similar yet so different - hugged him tightly.

"You're ok," he murmured, "Ich bin hier, it vill be alright."

"Y-you're-" Alex hiccuped, "-you're the first person I told." He buried himself deeper in the elf's chest, tears staining the plain white shirt and making the milky buttons slippery.

"It is ze same for me," admitted Kurt, "I have not told anozer of my treatment before, alzough ze Professor did find me being chased by an angry mob."

Alex looked up, multi-coloured eyes locking with Kurt's yellow ones as though he was examining his soul. Then, he smiled and snuggled deeper.

Kurt and Alex stayed like that, cuddled up, revelling in – yet somewhat disgusted by – the fact that there was another like them. There was another who understood.

"Should we go and get breakfast?" asked Alex, looking up again. Kurt nodded.

"Ve should," he agreed, standing up and holding out a three-fingered hand, "Remy iz vaiting for us outside."

"Did he tell you anything?" asked Alex, somewhat suspicious, as he accepted the assistance. He had told Remy that he could tell one person; he'd expected the master thief to wait a while to decide.

"He told me about vere he found you, and vat you told him," Kurt responded, eyes judging Alex's reaction. Alex nodded.

"I expected him to wait a while," he said, voice dropping to a whisper, "but I think you were a good choice."

Kurt smiled.

"Yo' all good now, cheri?" asked Remy, becoming a mother hen again, "he didn' do anyt'in' he be needin' punishment fo'?"

Alex shook his head, smiling slightly.

"No," he answered, accent still British, "he helped me in a way that you couldn't have."

Remy's eyes dropped, and Alex felt his heart go soft as he moved to hug him.

"Trust me, Remy," he murmured, "you don't want to be able to help me like he did."

The Cajun looked up, red-on-black eyes searching for something. Seeming to have found it, he nodded, a vicious smirk working its way onto his face.

"Bien, cheri," he chuckled, "pas de manigances."

Alex blushed, face lighting up like the fourth of July, and smacked Remy on the shoulder.

"Uncalled for!" he exclaimed. Remy laughed. Looking at Kurt, Harry blushed again. The blue man's face was a mixture of amusement – at Alex's reaction to what Remy said – and confusion as to what Remy actually said.

"Vat did you say?" he asked, laughter in his voice as Alex slapped a hand over Remy's mouth.

"Let's go get breakfast!" he said, far louder than he needed to, as he dragged Remy away, whispering quickly in his ear in what seemed to be French. Remy laughed, motioning to Kurt to follow.

"Vell," he muttered to himself as he followed the pair, "things vill certainly be more interesting around he now, zat's for sure."