A/N: The official end to lead into the beginning! Yay! Or: Tony is finally going to meet the Avengers next chapter and I'm finished with whatever the heck the last two chapters have been. A HUGE shoutout to my amazing beta BigTimeHiddlestoner for being amazing! Thanks to everyone for their patience and continued readership. I appreciate it! Reviews are love!

Tony had been on a mail run when he'd heard them. Ms. Munroe, Logan, Professor Xavier. A few other faculty were present, but Tony's main focus was the discussion they were having about him.

"Charles, we can't just keep him here," Ms. Munroe was arguing, her voice reaching the strained pitch she only got when Tony had blown something up, complete with burns and singed eyebrows.

"He has nowhere else to go, Ororo," Professor Xavier explained, "though I do understand your point."

"It's obvious that he has someone, somewhere. Children with genius level intellects don't just show up. We can't keep him from his family, or from those who are worried sick from looking for him."

The group fell silent, and Tony was breathing shallow pants through his mouth, his heart racing. The electromagnet ached, and he wanted to cry. Why did everyone want to get rid of him? Why couldn't they just let him suffer with the other students, but still sleep in an actual bed at night?

"What if he ain't got nobody?" Logan offered, his voice rough and low.

"It bears investigation, Logan," Professor Xavier conceded.

"Anthony's arrival coincides with the disappearance of a boy in the city, who may or may not have been staying with a former colleague of mine. If Anthony is that boy, or if he is another boy of another family, we've no right to keep him here. We don't even know his last name."

"I'll call SHIELD in the morning," Ms. Munroe offered. "They've got better resources than we do. What will we tell Tony?" Tony could practically hear the guilt in her voice, but it was apparently not superseded by her belief in his safe return to whatever "family" she imagined he might have. He hated her for it.

"The truth," Logan rumbled.

"We'll discuss it further in the morning," Professor Xavier broke in, his tone brooking no argument.

Clutching the mail to his chest, Tony shuffled away on the thick carpet as fast as he could, breaking into a run as he turned the corner. He took the time to drop it off in the faculty lounge, but didn't dawdle any longer, instead choosing to practically sprint to the other side of the mansion to get to his room.

Shoving his desk in front of the door (because he still didn't have a lock), Tony scrambled to his bed. He was still small and scrawny enough to wiggle underneath, grabbing for the shoebox that was shoved into the darkest corner. Wriggling backwards, Tony tore the lid off of the shoebox as soon as he could, revealing the miniature safe tucked inside. It wasn't very big, but Tony had reinforced it and added a tumbler he'd designed himself so that no one could get into it without a crowbar or superior lock picking skills.

Spinning the tumbler right, left, then right again, he let out a sigh of relief when the lock clicked and he could open the safe. Tugging out an envelope stuffed full of cash and the spare toolkit for his electromagnet, Tony shut the empty safe and shoved it back under the bed.

He'd been saving as much money as he could while working for Professor Xavier, and had made even more when he fixed cars in town while on his mail runs. He'd bought his own bike, bought new clothes, and filled an emergency duffel with food and extras just in case he'd have to run again.

He didn't want to run. He'd liked having a bed, and people that cared about him. He'd liked getting to work on cars and electronics and being smart. He didn't like getting bullied, but that was what he got for mouthing off and being scrawny.

Tony took deep breaths to calm down, clawing at his chest to alleviate the ache, only to find his t-shirt bunching under his fingers. It was time to go; otherwise, the bad men that found Dr. Yinsen would find the school, and Tony didn't want that. He didn't want to stay to be sent off to someone who could discover his electromagnet, and then experiment on him or take it right out of his chest.

The sound of his own gasp brought him back, and Tony shook himself to keep his mind on track. In the bottom of his closet, buried under a tool bag and odds and ends was his emergency duffel, already filled with a bit of emergency food, two spare sets of clothes, and a hat.

He'd made sure to wear the duffel out a bit, so it didn't stick out in a crowd. The hat was an idea from Logan, who said that if he wore a hat naturally, he could be naturally inconspicuous. It was navy blue, as dressing in all black was kind of obvious. He had been stocking up for a while, which including shirts not bearing the Xavier's School symbol. Tony wasn't very good at being one of the "X-Men", and he had already promised Professor Xavier that he wouldn't steal, and he'd upheld that promise as faithfully as he could.

Changing out of his courier clothes, AKA a t-shirt and jeans both provided the school, Tony pulled on a pair of raggedy jeans that were his favorite pair, despite the fraying hems and thinning fabric at his knees. He'd bought them in a consignment shop, because they fit right and they were comfortable.

While rooting around for a shirt, Tony kept one hand on his electromagnet, agitatedly tapping his fingers on the blackout casing. His toolkit was always taped somewhere on his person, and he didn't like touching it unless he had to.

Snapping himself out of his thoughts once more, Tony grabbed a t-shirt that was dark grey, which was only a little bit too big for him. Enough to keep his electromagnet hidden, yet not so big that he would get caught up on it while riding his bike.

Glancing around his room, Tony thought about what he could take with him. His bag was full of granola bars, trail mix, and dried blueberries. The wad of cash he could carry with him, and keep some to line in his socks, just in case. His spare toolkit was in his duffel, and his regular toolkit was taped to his thigh (he'd learned the hard way not to carry it in his pocket after someone almost stole it.) A small tool set with the basics got shoved inside the duffel, along with his Fe hoodie and extra socks.

Taking a canteen he'd picked up at a Boy Scout interest meeting, Tony went into his bathroom and filled it up with cold water, plucking his toothbrush and toothpaste out of the cabinet above the sink.

He caught his own eye in the mirror, scowling at what he saw. The Tony in the mirror looked terrified and pale. The Tony in the mirror looked weak, and there was no room for weakness when staying alive. Dr. Yinsen hadn't died for Tony to cry in the bathroom about running away again. Dr. Yinsen hadn't died for Tony to let someone strap him to a table and mess with his electromagnet.

Slapping his cheeks, Tony ignored his own stupid sniffling, then turned back to his room. No one would miss him for a couple of hours, so he'd be able to sneak down to the maintenance shop and grab his bike and go.

Tony had managed to make it through dinner without vibrating through his meal, though he was definitely keyed up, like the one time he'd drank a whole pot of coffee while spending two nights awake in the workshop.

He knew that Logan was looking at him funny, and Ms. Munroe kept shooting him pitying glances. Tony didn't need her pity; he needed her to stop worrying about his non-existent family and trying to ruin his life.

As soon as he could, Tony left the dining room to gather his stuff. He'd planned to leave as early as he could, so he could do most of his riding at night. His bike had a headlamp attached that only worked when he pedalled, so he knew he could dive off into a ditch if someone got too close.

Glancing around his room, Tony catalogued all the things he had gotten while staying at Professor Xavier's school. Drafting paper, clothes, a clock radio that had a CD player, which he'd played AC/DC CDs that were borrowed from the library.

He'd have to leave behind his engineering textbooks, including a lot of his math books, since they were too heavy to run away with. Trailing his finger over their spines, Tony sighed. Learning had been his favorite thing about school, even if he classmates were assholes. It hadn't been too bad, but Tony could tell that he didn't belong there. Not like the other kids.

Huffing out a breath, Tony turned away to look at the time. 11:55. Curfew was over for everyone, and patrols didn't start up till 1. Plenty of time to get going.

Using every single skill he'd ever learned from Logan and the other kids, Tony slipped out of his room and through the mansion with silent footfalls and an intimate knowledge of the layout, including the quickest way to get to the shop. His duffel bag thumped against his back, but the sound was muffled and wouldn't wake anyone up (that was Tony's hope, at least.)

He'd argued with himself for hours on whether or not to turn on the workshop light, at least to make sure he'd get out without any complications, and finally gave in as he reached the door. There weren't any living quarters nearby, so flicking the light on long enough to get his bike couldn't hurt.

With the shop door shut behind him, Tony turned to flip the switch, yelping with Logan's face was illuminated right next to him.

"Jesus fuck!" Tony shouted, stumbling backwards against the door. He scrambled to get his fists up, in case Logan tried to hit him; if so, he'd go down fight.

"Shut your mouth, kid," Logan growled, taking a step towards Tony.

Tony held his ground (not that he could go anywhere), clenching his teeth as Logan stepped close enough for Tony to smell his musky cologne. He'd called it Wolverine something, though Tony knew there were other things he should be thinking about.

"Where do you think you're goin' this late, bub?"

"Town."

"For what?"

"Some of the older kids wanted snacks. 7-11 is always open."

"Horse shit."

"Why do you care?"

Logan drew back, his eyebrows furrowed, as if the question was one he hadn't expected.

"Because I have some kind of an investment in scrawny kids who run their mouths too much. What's it to you?"

"I'm leaving, and you can't stop me," Tony warned, wishing he could erase the quaver in his voice.

"I wasn't planning on it," Logan stated, crossing his arms.

"You...aren't? You're not gonna march me back to my room, or thump me?"

"I always wanna thump you, kid. You deserve it half the time. I know you overheard, and it was hard not to notice how squirrelly you were over dinner."

"I wasn't squirrelly. I'm not a squirrel."

"Coulda' fooled me. I may not be very smart-"

Tony couldn't hold back a snort, though he was quick to clap his hands over his mouth.

"Shut up. As I was sayin', I may not be smart, but I know that you're a goddamned genius, and nothing we say or do can keep you for very long. You've obviously got a past that's trying to catch up with you, and I ain't of a mind to stop you. Just wanted to see you off, kid."

Staring up at the man in awe, Tony was embarrassed to realize that there were tears in his eyes. Hastily wiping at them with his sleeve, Tony dropped his head, tucking his chin to his chest in thought. After a few moments, he looked back up at Logan with a grim smile.

"I didn't steal anything. All of the school bought stuff is on my bed."

"Figured you'd been squirrelling away cash. I know you were makin' money on the side."

Tony grinned at him, knowing it was as close to genuine as it was going to get.

"Thanks, Logan. I'm sorry I can't stick around. It's just...bad stuff happens to the people around me, and I don't want that for you guys. I don't want to be tested on, and I don't wanna go back to a place where no one cares about me."

"Glad you know we care," was Logan's gruff reply, cut short by the man's rummaging through his pockets, handing a small billfold to Tony.

"Got a little bit of cash. The ID card the Professor had made for you is in there. Trash it, keep it, I don't care. If you head back to the city, there's a group of kids somewhere in the warehouse districts. Call themselves the Avengers. Crazy ass group, but some of our kids come from there. Find 'em, and you'll be set."

"Why are you telling me this?" Tony asked, stuffing the billfold in his pants pocket (he wasn't above accepting charity.)

"You're gonna find someplace where you belong, kid. Might as well start there."

Then Logan was gone, and Tony was pedalling into the night.

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