Sam honestly couldn't say when his life changed...and sometimes he would wonder if it was for the better.

All he remembered of the first critical moment his life took a new course was that he had run away, again, at the tender age of fifteen from his older brother and drunk of a father. John never hit them while drunk, but he would later learn that his Uncle Bobby had threatened to shoot his dad if he ever raised a hand against his sons.

Sam was only 15.7 years old, and he was sick and tired of hunting. He didn't even think of where he was running to, only that he wanted to get away from his dad. He did regret leaving his brother behind, but John was an absolute nightmare to be around.

Especially after hunts.

So when he found himself in front of a very old, very exclusive looking mansion, he was very confused. He knew better than to try and break into places like this. Hunters thrived by staying off the radar, and whoever owned it might want to send him back to John.

He was ten seconds away from leaving the gate and heading to someplace less...gaudy...but he had no idea that his coming to the large castle-like mansion was no coincidence.

He had been guided there by a force he would come to respect to some degree.

Sam found his attempt to leave barred by an immovable force he quickly learned was called "Wolverine" by some, but most called Logan.

At least he didn't yelp when Logan grabbed him by the collar of his thick flannel shirt.

"So you're the kid the professor said was going to be showing up tonight."

Sam blinked.

"Professor?" he said, turning to look at the one holding him.

He was a gruff looking man of indeterminate age, but something told Sam that he was about as mean as Bobby was once you got to know him. Though he didn't once doubt the man's dangerous aura.

"You have no idea how you got here, do you?" he asked tiredly.

Sam shook his head.

"Are you going to try to run?"

"What are you going to do to me once you put me down?" asked Sam flatly.

"Aside from getting you inside to see the Professor, nothing," he replied equally flat. "If you don't want to stay it's not my problem. This is a school, after all."

"School?" said Sam in disbelief. It was then he noticed a plaque he had completely missed because it was so dark. Though the guy had to point it out to him.

Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters.

By now his confusion outweighed his natural hunter's paranoia.

Seeing he wasn't about to run, the older man lead him inside the massive house. It was pretty dark, as a loose curfew was already in effect. Though that was for the younger and some of the less responsible older students. Though the halls were still relatively empty, Sam found that the older students didn't give him more than a passing glance at him before going on their way.

Sam was lead to a room which had a single occupant. A older man with no hair, an old knowing gaze, and sitting in a very customized wheelchair.

He felt somewhat nervous, unaware of the shock that was about to come his way...or the change it would make later in his life, when he finally returned to being a hunter.

"Hello Sam. My name is Charles Xavier."

"I'm confused."

Xavier had a rather strange smile, but Sam didn't feel threatened. It was weird.

"I'm sure you have many questions."

"Why did I come here? I normally avoid houses like this," said Sam.

"I will admit, your coming to this particular school wasn't by chance. I guided you here once I sensed your gift was close by. After I saw why you were running away, I insured you'd be able to find the school."

"Guided me?" repeated Sam in disbelief.

'There are many sorts of gifts out there, Sam Winchester...'

Sam would openly admit to jumping. He turned, but found no one behind him.

"What..."

"I am what the normal person would call a 'psychic'."

"Telepathy?" said Sam, half guessing.

"Among others. This is not just a school. It is a sanctuary for mutants."

Sam grimaced at the term. Mutants sounded fairly insulting.

"I don't understand. I'm not a mutant."

"You have the gene that is present in all mutants. It's called the 'X-gene'. From how quickly I identified you in Cerebro, your powers may awaken fairly soon, or it's just waiting for the right trigger to awaken."

"What's Cerebro?"

"Cerebro is a system I devised years ago with a colleague to identify and locate mutants. It's primary purpose is to allow us to find and rescue them from bad situations, or to offer them a place where they can feel safe. As I said before, when I briefly read your mind and found out why you were leaving, I felt it was prudent to guide you here so that you had a chance to feel safe while developing any powers that might awaken."

Sam was stunned. He had no idea he even had some sort of gene that gave him unique and often terrifying powers. Though considering his dad's view on anything not human, it was probably a good thing this sort of school existed.

Sam wasn't exactly sure about going to this school. As much as he hated hunting, he didn't exactly want to leave his brother behind permanently.

"We do offer preparatory and after-hour courses. You could attend the high school in the city with most of the other students and learn how to use your powers safely after school hours."

"I don't exactly have any money to pay for something like that."

"This is a sanctuary. The only payment you might be asked to make is to help teach the younger and newer students once you've gotten a handle on your own abilities. We also offer room and board while you are attending either this school or Bayville."

Seeing his indecision, Xavier told him to follow another student of his that attended Bayville and taught the others on the weekends. Jean would lead Sam to an open room with a double bed, as the Professor had hinted he might have a roommate later.


It took Sam four days before he came to a decision. He agreed to stay in the school to learn more about any potential powers that would awaken, or had the chance to awaken. Mostly because the "Professor" agreed to allow Dean to live in the school as well, if he was inclined.

And within less than two days after coming to that decision, Sam was promptly enrolled in Bayville High with a good portion of the other students.

Strangely, he was the only one in the school who didn't automatically feel like bitching whenever he was slated to work with "Professor Logan" the Wolverine for combat practice.

This wasn't due to any masochistic tendencies, or the fact that the comparison to his Uncle that he had made that first meeting with him was only strengthened the longer he was around the man, but due to the simple fact that he had once spent no less than a month in his Uncle's house because of a broken arm caused by a very pissed off ghost who had managed to slam him into a wall. A wall that had broken to reveal a water pipe that cracked and then burst upon being hit with most of Sam's body, only to slam him in the worst possible angle.

He knew there were things worst than anti-mutant groups out there. And if a little hard work in combat training with Logan meant less time having to deal with a cast on his arm from another bitchy monster, then he'd do the work without half the complaining the other students did.

Coincidentally this made him Logan's favorite out of the others, which meant he had a rather horrifying habit of singling out Sam more often than not for extra training.

Sam honestly found the looks of pity more annoying. Because really, he'd rather go on the 'extracurricular' camping trips on the weekends where he displayed a large knowledge of edible herbs and healing plants than most would, than having to deal with worrying how his brother would react to the decision to stay here.

Out of his family, only his Uncle Bobby had any idea that Sam had chosen to 'settle' in a rather obscure and selective school in New York rather than hunt for the foreseeable future, and that was only because Sam knew his address well enough to use him as an emergency contact.

Bobby took the news Sam might be a mutant well enough. Apparently there were a few that took up hunting because it gave them a sense of purpose and a damn good reason to stay off the radar.

For that reason alone Sam told Bobby exactly where he was and that he would try to graduate from high school at least before he went back to hunting.

Though that didn't mean Bobby wouldn't occasionally send him "homework" so that he didn't fall out of practice.


It took Dean three months to finally weasel the location of his brother. Unknown to Sam, whenever he did this little disappearing act, John generally took it out on his brother.

Bobby had taken one look at the healing bruise, then waited while John went on a food run before coming up with a hunt in the general area of Sam. It wasn't an active one, but Bobby spun it in a way John would go once he had recovered from the last one.

It gave Dean all the chance he needed to find the boarding school Sam was living in. Hopefully he'd have the sense god gave a mule and stay there with Sam, rather than convince his brother to leave.

Dean took one look at the posh boarding school where Bobby said Sam was living in, and almost chose to corner him in the normal high school after hours.

Sam had the most amusing sight of seeing Professor Logan use the same trick he used on Sam his first night here. Only Dean actually squawked in surprise.

Hearing his brother's voice, Dean promptly managed to SOMEHOW turn his head to face his laughing little brother. Sam, who looked a lot happier and more relaxed in this place than he should have been considering he had more or less run away.

"Sam?"

"What took you so long, Dean?"

"You know this brat?" asked Logan.

"That's my older brother Dean. I'm kinda surprised it took him so long to get the address from Uncle Bobby," said Sam.

"He wouldn't give it until he found a hunt close to the state," admitted Dean. "And even then he waited till he was able to force dad to do a grocery run."

"Figures."

Logan dropped Dean, who landed flat on his ass. Sam snickered, and Dean glared at him.

"This place is weird," said Dean. He was allowed to share the same room as Sam, though his 'payment' for room and board (as well as enrolling him a year above Sam) was to mentor some of the younger students.

Once he got over the initial shock of seeing kids with less-than-human features (a lack of weapons and the way Sam was completely at ease with them helped) Dean was more or less settled in.

Like Sam, his emergency contact was Bobby. If only because the older hunter swore he wouldn't give up their location until they were old enough to leave and not be immediately returned to John.

Dean refused to leave Sam, as he felt it was his duty to watch over his brother. And Sam refused to go back to his father now that he had someplace that allowed him to exercise his hunter's paranoia without asking awkward questions. Well not as many as a normal school anyway.

They even let him keep a few knives in his room, provided he never use them against the other students and trained with Logan in how to use them properly. He wasn't dropping them nearly as often as he had before. Dean would get most of his back once he proved he could handle living in a school full of people who were human, but had extra powers.

Sam viewed them as humans with 'weird abilities', which sounded a hell of a lot better than being called a 'disgusting mutant' to the face.

"At least they don't complain about the salt or the fact we carry weapons after school hours," said Sam.

"True... I just can't believe you ditched us for this place."

Sam decided to show Dean why he had accepted the idea of living here until he graduated high school. He scrunched his eyebrows and levitated a jug from the desk across him, as well as a glass. It was a bit wobbly, but he managed to pour a glass without spilling the entire thing.

Dean stared.

"What..."

"Apparently I'm a psychic-type. I can levitate things, and I have a limited ability to 'see' things three states away. It's still pretty shaky though."

Sam had the ability to use Cerebro, but none of the training or the control for it. Which meant unless he trained his powers to the point he had Jean's control, he wasn't allowed anywhere near that part of the manor. He also had to get much, much better at his ability to 'See' things. At this point he was content to work on his telekinesis before he learned anything else.

"Bitch," said Dean, grinning at his brother.

"Jerk," said Sam without hesitation. It was good to have Dean back. And it was pretty clear from Dean's face he was okay with the whole psychic powers thing...at least for the moment.

"You're not going to pull that Jedi-mind shit the old guy used on me, are you?"

"At this point I haven't developed any telepathy, and even if I did I'd be very wary of using it on you for the simple fact that I know what you've gotten up to with those girls you've brought back from school before. I've seen you in a compromising position once, and I absolutely don't want to be picking up details," said Sam in disgust. Dean leered at his brother.

"So what's with the guy who grabbed me at the gate?"

"Professor Logan is pretty much an older, more rugged version of Uncle Bobby. He teaches the advanced combat and survival courses, though for some reason people seem to dread getting stuck with his lessons. He seems to like me though."

"How bad?"

"Apparently the other kids aren't exactly eager about learning how to fight dirty, or go camping with a guy that barely allows sleeping bags and insists on having you actually hunt your food."

Sam had been the only student who openly volunteered to advanced survival training with Logan for the weekend instead of doing teamwork exercises with an ex-Marine.

He was the only one who came back to the Institute not covered in an unlucky outbreak of poison ivy. Some idiot had thought it would be hilarious to hide a few leaves in the beds. It took a week to fully clear up.

Dean perked up hearing that.

"This might actually be fun."

"He refuses to censor his language around me, he would probably look the other way if you started drinking alcohol (provided you're not stupid enough to brag), and about the only thing he told me not to do on these camping trips was bring porno magazines because he has a really strong sense of smell," said Sam, nodding wisely. Not that he'd bother with something like that. Dean was the man-whore of the two, and even he was rarely THAT hard up.

Girls really liked his bad-boy image. A little too much in Sam's opinion.

"I'm just curious how the hell the old guy managed to get me in the class above you. I mean we're four years apart!"

"He claimed insufficient home schooling, from what I could tell. The fact you couldn't really pass the standardized exam and it's hard to tell your age made it easier."

Dean had flunked high school and had never actually graduated. Lying about his age was less of a headache than explaining that he was overprotective of his little brother AND it made it much harder for John to actually find them, because he wouldn't expect Dean to actually get his high school degree and lie about his actual age.

At least they had made him old enough to actually drive. Pretending to be seventeen again was a pain in the ass, but totally worth it if it meant keeping an eye on his brother. And since his residence was the Institute he could get an actual driver's license that wasn't a fake. He had gotten busted a few times for that one.