A/N:

Whoa! Sorry it took me so long! Ugh. This has been kind of sitting, while I stared at it and willed it to do something. It eventually did. Sort of. So! This is the last bit of pre-Avengers exposition before things start kicking in gear. Loki is still a little ways out, but soon!

I'd like to thank everyone for their reviews/favs/follows! Pickpocket will keep on, slowly but surely.
Another thank you to my beta BigTimeHiddlestoner. You rock.

Waking up was a little terrifying. The clean sheets and clothing were unfamiliar, as was the room he had been sleeping in. Looking around, Tony determined that it was small, but not restrictive, boasting a bed, nightstand (with a lamp), dresser, desk, chair, and a window with red curtains. Panic quickly set in, because waking up on the streets was normal; waking up in a bed was almost scary. He struggled to breathe in and out, trying to calm down enough to remember where he was. Logan. Xavier. He was at Xavier's school, because he'd tried to steal Logan's cheeseburger. Right.

After a few minutes of sounding like a dying fish, Tony slid out from under the sheets and crept over to the window, pushing the curtains to the side to peer out at the carefully manicured lawn that was bathed in morning light. The grounds were just as big as they were the day before, but were empty of any other kids running around. He recalled Logan telling him that his room was on the back of the mansion, nestled in amongst the rooms of other faculty and staff and a few students who weren't suited to living with roommates in the dormitories.

He'd gotten a shower the night before (which had felt really freaking great) after dinner, but he figured it couldn't hurt if he slipped into the connecting restroom to take another. He'd been a zombie by the time he got to bed, and while he'd expected to oversleep,Tony's internal clock tick-tick-ticked in the back of his mind, reminding him that he needed to be ready to go when Logan showed up at 8 AM to haul him off to breakfast and then "aptitude testing".

It was six something according to his radio clock, which was the time Tony had programmed himself into waking up so he could get to the soup kitchen and maybe score some bread or oatmeal. It took skill, pretending to be someone's kid, and usually he could get away with it. There had been days when Tony had nearly gotten caught and dragged away by the police, but those days were few and he'd escaped with his identity unknown. Waking up by eight everyday wouldn't be a problem.

Letting the curtain slip back, Tony turned around and surveyed the room. It was lit up with reddish light, the sun bright enough to illuminate his room without aid of the overhead light or lamp. The closet was built into the wall next to the dresser, and all of Tony's new clothes had been haphazardly stored in the bottom before he'd collapsed into bed.

He'd almost been afraid to put the clothes into the dresser; what if Xavier didn't want him after all? What if he had to leave? He'd leave the clothes, because he'd promised he wouldn't steal from Xavier. Other people...maybe. But he shouldn't have any reason to steal...right?

Tony's second shower in less than twenty four hours was just as amazing as the first. He kept the water blistering hot, and he scrubbed everything twice to make sure he was really, really, clean. He came out looking like a tomato, but it didn't matter. There wasn't any dirt in his hair, and he didn't smell. It was fricking awesome. Clean clothes were pretty awesome too, and he really hoped that they hadn't burned his Fe hoodie or anything. The black cargo pants were a little big on him, but they'd given him a belt so it didn't matter. The t-shirt was black as well (which was weird), with a logo on the front that was simply a red circle with a red 'X' stamped in the middle. It seemed kinda symbolic, but it was clean and Tony couldn't really complain.

They'd guessed his shoe size, then given him a pair of red slip on sneakers until he could be taken out and measured for proper fitting...everything. That all depended upon his testing, and how useful he could be as a courier.

Finger combing his hair, Tony took a deep breath, slipped on his slightly too big sneakers, and opened his bedroom door. It swung with more momentum than expected, the reason hanging on the door handle. His Fe hoodie was clean and folded up, tucked into a grocery bag. He'd tucked his toolkit under his pillow before setting his old clothes out to be washed per Logan's orders (they'd disappeared, and had probably been burned or something), and it went back into the waistband of his boxers. Biting his lip, Tony opted to take his hoodie back into his room and tuck it under his pillow, making the bed and pulling the navy blue comforter up and over the pillow. Xavier hadn't said he needed to make his bed, but it kinda seemed like something he was expected to do.

Not having a key to lock his door left Tony uneasy, but he was at Xavier's mercy, and he should be grateful that he'd had a bed to sleep in, let alone new clothes and food to eat.
"Yo, Street Rat," called Logan from the end of the corridor. The older man looked the same as he did the day before: leather jacket, blue jeans, boots. Scowl. The whole package.

Tony shut his door, balling his fists at his side. He was still uneasy, and wanted nothing more than to stay in his room (maybe with some circuit boards) and not see anyone ever.

"You cleaned up good, kid. Might need a haircut at some point. Anyways, let's go get some grub."

Remaining silent, Tony trailed after Logan through the mansion, until they arrived in a dining room that had been converted into a mess. Instead of one long table in the middle, several circular tables with bench seating were scattered throughout the room. Students of varying ages were sitting at the tables, intermingled with adults who must have been the professors. Some professors clustered together at their own tables, but it was overall a huge mix of all the mansion's occupants.

On the far wall, a buffet had been set up, warmed by chafing pans (that Tony could vaguely recall from his first parents' parties). Logan beelined for the buffet, not even bothering to wait for Tony. Weaving through the maze of tables, Tony tried to keep his head down and stick to Logan's heels. From there, breakfast was a blur of delicious food and the curious stares of students and professors alike. Wanting to cry at how wonderful it felt to be full, Tony was saved the embarrassment when Logan plucked him out of his seat and took him back into the maze of corridors.

"Are you going to kill me now? Because that whole room knows I exist. So, it might make it harder to claim that I was never here," Tony remarked as they walked.

"Do you ever stop talking about that crap?" Logan barked, not looking back.

"No."

"Don't be so negative. You're a kid. Leave the cynicism to your elders."

"Uh, no? I'd prefer to be prepared to get screwed over or murdered by creepy guys in leather jackets than get caught by surprise," Tony retorted.

"Do you want me to murder you? 'Cuz I don't want that shit on my conscience, bub. Sorry about your bad luck."

"Just what are you telling the new students, Logan?" Asked another voice, that of a woman, who had Logan drawing up short.

Logan stopped in the middle of the hallway, grunting when Tony plowed into him from behind.

"Why'd you stop? You can't just stop without warning," Tony grumbled, stepping out from behind Logan while rubbing at his nose.

Rude.

"Is this the student Charles was talking about?" The unknown woman asked, prompting Tony to see who was actually talking. He felt his eyebrows creep towards his hairline as a very, very beautiful woman stepped out from a doorway. She had white hair that contrasted against her dark skin tone, with bright blue eyes that left Tony feeling as though she knew pretty much everything about him without even asking. It was like Xavier, but not as creepy.

She smiled when she caught his eye, then stepped forward and held her hand out.

"I'm Ororo Munroe, and you must be Tony..."

"Just Tony," Tony replied, shaking her hand.

"Then you may call me Ms. Munroe," she replied, not fazed in the least by his answer (which was kind of disappointing.)

"Well. I'll leave you with the brat, and I have faith that he can make his way back to the dining room for lunch. He's got an attitude problem, so don't hesitate to adjust it for him," Logan growled, giving Tony an impressive stink eye. Sauntering off, Tony was left with Ms. Munroe and a corridor full of awkward.

"Alright, Tony. Today we're going to be testing you on a variety of things. What was your last grade level in school?"

"Grade level?" Tony asked, his brow furrowing. What did that even mean?
Ms. Munroe raised an eyebrow, but was still rather calm in the face of Tony's confusion.

"Public schools have grade levels that correspond with children's ages as they advance through their schooling. For instance, a normal ten to eleven year old would be in fifth grade."

"I've never been to school," Tony replied, hunching his shoulders. He'd had classes with Dr. Yinsen, and there had been tutors with his first parents. Tony knew that kids went to school - he just didn't know that he should have gone to school with them.

"Oh. Well, did you attend a private school, or went to a boarding school that your parents picked out?" Ms. Munroe asked, and Tony could hear a change in her voice. What was he supposed to say?

"No. I've never been to school," Tony repeated, frowning. Had he done something wrong? He was still smart, even if he hadn't ridden the stupid yellow bus with the other kids.

"Have you ever taken classes anywhere? Or were you home schooled?" She pressed, making Tony feel uncomfortable.

"I've never taken classes anywhere," Tony muttered, dropping his gaze to the floor. "I had a tutor come. I wasn't allowed to go outside."

"Why weren't you allowed to go outside, Tony?" Ms. Munroe asked, her voice changing again.

Tony looked up at her through his bangs, taking a deep breath. He didn't want to explain himself to this woman. He couldn't explain himself. She was making him feel like a stupid kid, and of all the things that Tony was, he was not stupid.

"I don't know. I just wasn't. But it doesn't matter, 'cause I'm really smart and didn't need school anyways. I still don't," he argued, crossing his arms over his chest.
Huffing a breath, Ms. Munroe didn't get angry or yell (which is what he'd expected), and instead motioned to the room she'd stepped out of. She waited for him to shuffle inside before closing the door, leaving Tony to look at a room that featured a wall of computers (that looked brand new and very, very shiny), several tables that had loose leaf paper and pencils in the middle, as well as calculators, protractors, and compasses.

"This testing is going to take awhile, Tony. Let me know if you need a break. We'll go to lunch at noon, and then finish up afterwards."

"What kind of tests are they?" Tony asked, eying the papers that Ms. Munroe was pulling from a cabinet on the far side of the room.

"Aptitude tests. Tests to measure how far along you are in your education, and where your strengths and weaknesses are."

"I suck at English," he offered, edging towards a computer at the far end.

"We can work on that," she said with a laugh.

Ms. Munroe set him up with the first test, which was on the computer, and told him to take his time. The first subject was English, which sucked, but wasn't too hard. He was kind of behind on history, but he knew the basics. Science was easy, because it was his favorite, and he sped through it without any issues. Math was his second favorite, because it felt like numbers made more sense than anything else, and his entire life was made of numbers. It didn't take very long, which left him kind of confused and more than a little bored. Ms. Munroe had stepped out to take care of some papers, so it left Tony alone with computers and something even better: the Internet. It felt like he was elbows deep in knowledge and theories and ideas to take apart the computers and make them ten times better by the time Ms. Munroe came back.

He'd moved away from the computer and was at a table, scribbling new designs for a computer, and updated versions of Dummy, since he got left behind at Dr. Yinsen's apartment. Thinking about it still hurt, so he threw himself into improving things, making them better, safer. Stronger.

"Tony? What are you doing?" Ms. Munroe asked, jolting Tony out of his concentration.

"What? Where did you come from?" He asked, glaring at her.

"I stepped out for a few minutes. Are you taking a break from your test?"

"What? No. I finished that forever ago. You were gone and I got bored. You should make those things harder."

Ms. Munroe fell silent, and they got into a staring contest. Tony was probably destined to lose, so he slumped in his chair with a sigh. He knew he was supposed to be good, but this was boring. He was just supposed to ride a bike and deliver stuff, so it didn't make sense to test him.

"...Let me check your results, and then we'll move onto another test, okay?"

"'Kay. What time is it?"

"Ten o'clock," she replied as she did something with the computer, making a weird sound when she read the screen.

"I don't know CPR," Tony called, back to sketching schematics.

"It's a good thing I don't need it," Ms. Munroe said as she slid the next test onto the table, exchanging it for his drawings.

"Hey! Give those back!" He yelled, grabbing for them.

The expression on her face said that he'd misstepped somewhere, but he didn't give a damn. Those were his.
"I'll give them back after your test, Tony. But if you want to stay here, you need to follow the rules. Test first, then you can have your drawings. I'm going to go and file your results and I will be back shortly after."

Grumbling, Tony turned to his next test, making a face at it. It had shapes and patterns and number sequences, and looked boring. Grabbing a pencil, he started bubbling in the answers. This one was a little harder, if only because it got kind of annoying. It felt like he was answering the same thing over and over, which made him believe that this was just a method of torture until they let Logan take him out back and shoot him like Old Yeller or something.

Ms. Munroe came back at some point, and Tony barely registered it as he finished the test. When Ms. Munroe tapped on his shoulder, Tony was prying apart the casing of one of the calculators, tongue sticking out as he concentrated. He'd finished and moved on to seeing how the calculators worked and building a small house of #2 pencils.

"Tony?"

"Mmhm?" Tony hummed.

"It's time for lunch. I expect you to put that calculator back together," she warned.

"Can do."

Sliding out of his chair, Tony abandoned his project and followed Ms. Munroe out of the room. Hopefully the tests wouldn't take much longer, otherwise he was going to go crazy at "Xavier's School for Higher Learning".

Six months after attempting to relieve Logan of his extra cheeseburger and a whirlwind of charity from Charles Xavier, Tony had decided that Xavier's School for Higher Learning was both heaven and hell.

After taking his aptitude and IQ tests, it had been made very clear that Tony was pretty fricking smart. He'd already known as much, but it was gratifying that others knew it too. In the end, they wouldn't let him see the results of his IQ tests, which was incredibly annoying. A kid needed to know these things, even though Tony already knew he was a 'd scored off the charts in everything; whatever it all meant to Xavier, it ended with Tony being placed in an accelerated curriculum for when he wasn't running errands or getting his head shoved into a toilet by the other students.

It just so happened that while it was a school for higher learning and supposedly "gifted students", Tony was a little too far ahead (in a lot of areas) for the other students' comfort. Insecure teenagers weren't appreciative of a scrawny orphan's superior intellect, and turned to bullying as quickly as the kids he'd met on the street.

Matters weren't helped when it became readily apparent that Tony was behind on recent history by at least three years (on account of Dr. Yinsen's apartment having been an isolated cave of sheltered knowledge.) What harsh lessons he'd learned on the street paled in comparison to the cruelty of the other students, and the naive Tony that had ran away from gunshots had finally disappeared within a few weeks in the mansion.

He'd missed out on a lot of technological trends as well; Dr. Yinsen's old DELL, tucked away in a corner of the apartment, was the only tech that Tony had used, and it wasn't even connected to the internet. They'd had a VCR and an HBO package tacked onto their cable, but no new DVD players or satellite TV to break up the monotony of PBS programming and Disney tapes. His lack of knowledge painted yet another target on his back, leaving Tony to strive for an understanding of "up to date" technology. It didn't take long, and he picked things up faster than everyone else, but the time he spent learning was difficult and painful in the face of his peers' mistreatment.

The results of his tests declared him literate, and he was given access to the library and told he could work his way up to an actual computer for his room (though he wasn't allowed to take it apart.) He had a tendency to try and take everything apart; when he got caught for the fifth time sneaking into the maintenance shop after hours, Logan roughed him up a bit in the ring before giving him a pair of ruddy coveralls that were a few sizes too big to wear in the shop when he worked. It was the start of boxing lessons (with some dirty moves) and a love affair with old cars, fixing things, and grease streaks across his face.

As per the deal with Xavier, Tony did his work. It included fetching the mail, distributing the mail, fetching files, distributing files, pedaling into town to fetch more mail, packages, and sodas for the asshole students that were too lazy to go get them on their own. Every waking moment that he didn't spend in class or working, Tony was on the library computers, learning as much as he could. While he researched engineering, computer coding, and sciencey-things in general, Tony made backup plans. If there was one thing Tony knew for sure, it was that good things didn't last.

The more Tony learned about the world, the more he realized that Dr. Yinsen had been keeping him away from everything and everyone. That knowledge brought a sense of unease that never really went away.

When Tony quietly turned twelve, everything fell apart all over again.

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