A/N: Hello, all! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed Pickpocket! Each review means a lot, and I really enjoy hearing what others think/feel!
So, here's chapter four. We're kind of creeping along, until I can build up to the next stage in poor Tony's angst-ridden existence. Chapter five is in the works, so it shouldn't be too long!
As always, no beta. All errors are mine!
The guy that, for all intents and purposes kidnapped Tony, went by Logan. He was in his mid twenties, and worked closely with Charles Xavier, a man that ran a school for gifted (see: troubled) children in upstate New York. Tony stayed silent while Logan explained the place to him, staring out the window and marveling at the scenery as he wondered what was in store for him.
It took Logan an hour and a half to battle afternoon traffic and get them to 'Xavier's School for Higher Learning'. It functioned as a prep academy for kids that were sometimes too smart for their own good, and got into trouble a lot. Logan or 'Wolverine' as the kids called him, taught close quarters combat, and liked to make sure the grounds were kept up with.
Tony wasn't sure if he wanted to know why these kids needed to know how to fight, but he kept his mouth shut as Logan showed him the property. The mansion was impressive, and reminded him of his first parents, though he was quick to stuff the memory back where it belonged. Kids and teenagers roved the property, studying in gardens and playing on open patches of lawn, only a few sparing Tony curious looks.
"Were any of these kids kidnapped by strange men in the park?" Tony asked once the shock of seeing the grounds had worn off.
"Do you normally go with strangers who offer you food?" Logan shot back, and Tony could admit that he'd been pretty stupid.
Dr. Yinsen would have grounded him for weeks if he had caught Tony going with strangers. Not that Tony was even able to see strangers to begin with, but still.
"Do you have a name? I can't go around introducing you as 'Filthy Street Rat'."
"You could call me 'Kid I Abducted with Cheeseburger Bait'. KIACB. It rolls right off the tongue."
"No one likes a smart ass."
"Tony."
"What?"
"My name's Tony."
"Got a last name?"
"Nope."
Logan huffed out an irritated sigh, distracting Tony from the hand that cuffed him upside the head, leaving his ears ringing.
"Listen, kid. You're going to be living off Professor Xavier's charity. Stop the smartass shit and do what you're told, and he might just keep you around."
Rubbing a spot above his ear, Tony had to bite his lip in order to keep from mouthing off. Logan wasn't Dr. Yinsen. Logan couldn't tell him what to do. Except a tiny voice in his said that this was a chance to keep himself alive, and he should really just be quiet and shut up.
What he really wanted to do was cry, because this was all going so fast, and he could smell gasoline and hear gunshots, "You have a good heart, Anthony" reverberating around his skull. Logan was talking at him, and then he was shaking him, and finally he slapped Tony's cheek a few times, only hard enough to get his attention and snap him out of the flashbacks.
"Are you one of those kids that has panic attacks?" He asked, no judgment in his tone.
Tony nodded once, taking deep, gasping breaths, gradually slowing his breathing down so that he was breathing in through nose and out through his mouth. He looked up at Logan, who looked like he was walking the line between concerned and pissed off, which was kind of weird to see on the guy's face.
"Is it going to keep you from working?"
"No!" Tony said, a little too quickly. "I just...it's only been a few weeks. It'll get better. I think."
"Right. Let's go meet Xavier and see how he feels about homeless punks."
Logan's tone suggested that Charles Xavier had to deal with homeless children more often than he'd like. The walk around the mansion took awhile as they headed towards the maintenance entrance in the back. Logan said it wasn't really proper to bring dirty homeless kids through the front door.
"How many other kids are like me?"
"What do you mean?"
"Street kids. Kids messed up in the head. Kids without parents," Tony clarified, stuffing his hands into the pocket of his hoodie to disguise the fact that they were shaking.
"Enough. You won't be the first. Act grateful," Logan instructed as they walked inside an outer door, that looked like a tool shed. Coats hung on one wall, ranging from light zip up hoodies to thick, heavy coats that looked very...maintenance-like. Boots were lined up on the floor, some caked with mud and others clean. A few pairs of sneakers were there as well, all cleaner than Tony's; probably smelled better too.
The other wall featured tools, from hammers and saws to rakes and garden hoes. There were a few tool belts, a work bench, and tucked in the far corner was a bicycle, far too small for Logan or any other adult to use (unless they were into BMX or something).
"That's the courier bike. You'll be running packages and mail and shit around the mansion grounds and in town. Short ride away, nice folks. Charles does a lot of business with them, building goodwill for the punks that don't quite get the purpose of their stay here. C'mon. No sense in keeping him waiting."
Tony scrambled to follow Logan as he lengthened his strides, navigating the maze of a mansion with ease. The temptation to stop and peer in rooms that functioned as computer and science labs was overwhelming, but Logan took care of it by grabbing a handful of Tony's hood and dragging him along.
As they made their way up a set of narrow stairs set at the back of the house, the mansion took on an eerie silence. Their footsteps were hushed by thick blue carpeting, and Tony marveled at the sensation of sinking into the floor with each step. While he was wondering what it would feel like to be barefoot, Logan led/dragged him down the corridor, in which carpet had given way to polished wood. They stopped in front of a large, ornately carved door. The wood looked old, but the keypad mounted at waist height was state of the art. Tony itched to get his hands on it and tear it apart and see how it worked, but Logan had other ideas.
Logan knocked, and Tony could hear the snick of a lock and hydraulics at work as the door opened. Following Logan over the threshold, Tony's jaw dropped. Before him was a study that dwarfed anything from his first dad's mansion. Dr. Yinsen's study had been nice, but nothing like the study in Xavier's mansion. Books lined the walls from floor to ceiling, the shelves full of classics and books on history and more topics than Tony could really dream of. The wall that would have been on the outside of the mansion featured a wide fireplace, the flames banked low but still keeping the room warm.
A large desk faced the door from the center the room, a bald man seated behind it. He was thumbing through a sheaf of papers, occasionally marking in the margins with a blue fountain pen.
"Is that your tag along, Logan?" The man asked without looking up.
"Yup. He's a little mouthy, but I think he'll do a good job."
"Why don't you step outside for a moment, Logan? I would like to speak with Anthony alone."
Tony felt a trill of alarm go off in his head, chills racing up his spin and leaving the hair on his arms standing up. It felt as if someone dumped ice water over him, and he was more than alert as Logan saluted Xavier and sauntered out the door, whistling as it shut behind him.
"Logan says he found you in Central Park, attempting to divest him of a cheeseburger," Xavier began, setting aside his paperwork then clasping his hands on his blotter.
Tony had heard no such thing. When had Logan found the time to talk to Xavier and tell him his name? Had Tony ever called himself Anthony? Should he be rethinking this whole 'Going With Strangers' plan?
Plan B featured running off the property as fast as he could and finding somewhere to stay, because this was all too sketchy to be remotely safe. Even if he did run, he didn't even know where to stay in New York City, let alone Westchester County.
"Y-yeah," Tony stuttered, hating himself for the weakness. The kids on the street weren't weak. Tony wished he could be like them, instead of the kid he was when he ran from Dr. Yinsen's apartment.
"Stealing is a less than admirable trait, Anthony. Why should I let a would-be thief into my school and trust him with my correspondence?"
It hit Tony, as his chest constricted under his electromagnet, that he felt guilty about it. That he hadn't felt guilty in a couple of weeks and Dr. Yinsen would have wanted him to feel guilty, because that meant that he knew the difference between right and wrong. He did, he really did.
"I..." Tears welled up in his eyes, and he furiously wiped them away with a grimy sleeve. He wanted to go home. He wanted to have a home.
Xavier waited, his expression serene as he and Tony locked gazes. Tony wanted to trust this man.
"I didn't...I was so hungry, sir. I haven't...there's no food where I live. Logan had more than one cheeseburger and I didn't think about it. I didn't mean to upset him."
"Where do you live, Anthony?" Again, Xavier's eerie sense of knowing made Tony uneasy.
"New York City."
"Where in New York City?"
Crap.
"Umm...somewhere near Central Park? I don't know the street name."
"Surely you know where you live, Anthony," Xavier said with a disarming smile. "A boy your age is smart enough to know his own address."
"I...uh...it depends on the weather."
"Your address does? What impact would the weather have on your address?"
Sighing, Tony ran a hand through his greasy hair, wishing he could take a long, hot shower. Knowing miracles didn't exist, he stuffed his hands back into his hoodie pocket and opted for honesty, since that worked so well with these weird people.
"If it's nice, I can stay in an alleyway or something. If it's raining, I find an overpass and hope the kids are nice enough to share a spot by the fire or something. Sometimes I stay in sewer drains, if they're big enough," he mumbled, dropping his head to stare at the carpet.
"Where are your parents, Anthony?" Xavier asked, not unkindly. His voice was gentle, and when Tony peeked out from the fringe of his hair, the man's brow was furrowed with what looked like concern.
"Dead."
"Guardians? Relatives?"
"Dead. I don't have any relatives."
"What's your name?"
"Anthony. But I like Tony better."
"Your last name?"
"I don't have one."
Xavier sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair while observing Tony's shuffling in place. Tony figured this was when he got shipped off to an orphanage or something, where they would figure out his secret and then he'd be studied like a lab rat. His hand twitched in an attempt to cover his electromagnet, but he managed to look like he was fidgeting.
"You certainly wouldn't be the first orphan to end up on my doorstep, Tony. Others have done far worse than steal food from Logan to end up here. If you were to work as our courier, I would pay you an hourly wage. You will be required to attend classes where you can, and you will be assigned additional chores since you will be a scholarship case."
Nodding along, Tony realized that he felt numb. Was he really going to get the chance to go to school? The offer seemed too good to be true, but he clung to the hope that Charles Xavier truly was a good man.
"I want your assurance that you won't attempt to steal from this school, Anthony. I do not abide thieves or deception."
Tony looked up, panicked.
"No! I won't steal, ever. I promise! I-I could make it up to you and Logan...I'm really good at fixing things! I know how computers run and I'm smart and I already know I can make your locks better and I...I can be good, Professor Xavier," Tony explained in a rush, his voice cracking. He didn't want to be a bad kid. He wanted to be good.
Xavier's expression softened, and he moved out from behind the desk, the whirring of an electric motor distracting Tony from his misery. The man was in a modified electric wheelchair, and Tony wanted nothing more than to plunge his hands into the wiring. He rolled around the desk and stopped in front of Tony, leaning forward to chuck him under the chin with two fingers.
"I have every faith that you can, Anthony. We'll get you a bath and some clothes to start with, and then we'll see about dinner. Tomorrow, you will take placement tests, and we will see to it about your job. Does that sound amenable to you?"
Tony nodded, sniffling slightly while lifting silent prayers that his heart wouldn't beat louder than his electromagnet. He heard the door open again, and looked up as Logan strolled in with a lazy grin and an armful of clothes.
"Time to wash up, kid. You stink."
Thanks for reading! Reviews are welcome!