The Beast charges right for Professor Xavier, and I almost wanna get in the way but he calmly raises his hand and stalls it in midair. His blue eyes chilling me and the Beast to the very core. He looks over his shoulder at me.

He made it look so easy.

"This is your inner self?"

"Well, we're on the day my Mama died. What yer holdin' is me right after Sabretooth started the game. My powers came in real early."

The Beast glares at Xavier and then at me, before everything rips away, darkening and smelling like death n' metal, the air stiff and heated by the bright lights. The Beast unfreezes and starts tearing through some vague fleshy mannequins.

Some with powers that rip into him, some that carried him on high and broke his bones in the fall, Xavier looks at them with an almost pained expression on his face. Like he's almost never seen this kinda thing before.

"You scared?" I ask, the Beast scrambling behind me, Xavier looks around again. Almost confused.

"What have you been through?" he asks.

"A lot. You've only seen a couple of things and that's all." I cross my arms, "What're you trying to do?"

"I just want to understand you." he says, "To help you."

"You won't when yer from a high castle. That power gives you so much, and you're the authority on all mutantkind?" I sweep my arms around, "Look, professor! Lookit alllll the brothers and sisters I killed!"

My claws cover in blood, my eyes staring him down, "I ain't gonna be fixed, but every day I wake up an' decide who I wanna be. Comin' in here expectin' t'change me because you looked at my sob story ain't my thing."

Xavier looks at me, blue eyes full of sadness, "But you were a child."

"So? My father's a monster an' my mom was murdered n' taken advantage of way before that. I know what I am. I know who I am. But that doesn't mean I have to be some wild an' crazy monster." The Beast turns back into that little boy I was before. Black and white striped shirt, tiny claws, tiny fangs, bright blue eyes that saw everything. A little boy clinging to my legs, so scared out of his mind. He looks up at me. That inner child. That little me.

I won't be my father.

"I'm not gonna be your soldier, Xavier. But if you wanna see it… here you go." The world around us starts accelerating, blood splatters everywhere, coating everything as the Boy lets go of my legs and tears through all of creation

Everything I am rushing by, Xavier trying to slow it down but I loom over him with that same sly smile my father does. That same cocksure grin that I know what he's up to and what he's doing.

I don't hate 'im. That's not who I am. Just the sanctimony of tryin' to help people understand that we're just natural people is harder 'cause he's one side of the damn war. When I come to, he sits in his wheelchair and looks at me with those blue eyes fulla sad reality. He knows that I went through Hell.

Leanin' against the doorframe is Logan. His own eyes staring at me and him, "Did it work, Chuck?"

Charles looks into my eyes and wheels back with a determination in his eyes, "Yes, Victor showed me much. He will come to his own conclusions on being an X-Man at his own pace."

"Gotcha…" Logan breathes, "So he's a student?"

"As of right now." Xavier smiles at me, "Are you alright with someone keeping an eye on you?"

My stomach growls an' that's my answer. Logan chuffs an' leads me down the hallways, they're super fancy and he's whistling a tune I ain't heard before. There's other students and they watch me, they're real jumpy.

"Do you eat cooked or raw?" Logan asks.

"Raw."

The meat tastes like heaven, shovin' it down my gullet in the mess hall with all the tables and benches, Logan sits across from me, peekin' over a beer as I snap bones and suck out the marrow.

Pig ain't bad at all, but deer's where it's at. Logan watches me demolish my meat, my eyes flick up towards his and a growl escapes my throat. He chuffs softly and shakes his head.

"Do you see him in me or somethin'?" I snarl, patting my face with a napkin. Logan nods and there's another growl. It's instinctive at this point really.

"Of course you do…" he chuckles a little but there's a sadness to it. Like he's never been okay with whatever happened.

"You knew my Mama, didn't you?" he gives me a nod and I don't want to push it. I don't want it all to be awkward or anythin' but Logan continues on through the awkwardness.

"She was my girlfriend for a time, kid." his voice is full of kind nostalgia. It's kinda refreshin', ya know? He continues.

"There's a kinda beauty to how short it was, but I didn't know she survived 'til I saw you." he smirks, "You grew up well, for Creed's blood." I don't even got the balls to be mad at him. Or even takin' a shot at him.

He knew I might because there's a quick SNIKT and out pops his claws. CRACK. I crack a bone open n' suck out the marrow. I ain't my pops and Logan sheathes 'em right back in. I dunno why he's pushy right now.

"What's yer game, old man?"

"Just testin' a little theory, bub."

Then there's a sudden BAMF of Brimstone n' Sulfur. Starin' right at me is a fuzzy blue kid with three fingers n' toes with a tail with a tiny point on it. He's also got dark hair and he's grinning almost wide-eyed. I almost double back an' leap to my feet but I keep that urge down.

"Mr. Logan! I didn't know we had a new student!" he exclaims, his accent's got a little bit of German in it. But that's not what I focus on. There's somethin' about 'im that's real familiar.

Can't be. I smile an' lift my hand to grab his.

"Victor."

"Kurt!" Kurt exclaims with a happy grin and a glimmer in his yellow eyes. Logan smirks.

"Kurt here is gonna help ya with a few things, he's new like you are." He says, with Kurt bouncing a little on his feet. Of course I appreciate the help. He's certainly peppy as we leave the mess hall. I can't help but smell all the different scents, Logan leads us towards a side room with clothes hanging on hangers. There's tons of different sizes, colors, even shapes. It's crazy. But that's how we always are, that's how they see us. Crazy. Well, when my Dad's a murderer that doesn't really help with the whole relationship between Mutants and Humans it don't make it any easier.

I look through the clothes, trying to find my size, just keepin' to myself really. My pants're screwed, and I grab as much as I can. Sliding on a plain white shirt and a bomber jacket with an X in the back of it. I get into a clothing booth for the pants an' underwear. I don't really bother with socks or shoes because I always end up tearin' them up. So I just left it at that. As Kurt an' I leave, there's another boy with red and black eyes and red hair with a cocky smirk on his face as he's staring down Mr. Logan.

"C'mawn Teach! I ain't gon' do much!" he drawls, with Logan not very impressed. I can smell somethin' odd on the boy. Like… beer? Spices? The fuck is this guy's deal?

"LeBeau, last time you went out you took a car for a joyride."

"So?! Th' car was a bad guy's car! Fucker deserved the Gambit's special Drivin' School!" he scoffs and looks up at me and Kurt. He grins.

"Well, I don' think we'da been introduced." he sweeps up to us and Kurt takes his hand and shakes it with a happy enthusiasm. His tail's goin' a mile a minute and I don't blame this guy for being weird about it.

"I'm Kurt!" he exclaims.

"Heya Kurt. Name's Remy." he smiles and looks at me with the same pearly white smile but there's still somethin' that doesn't meet his eyes. He's wearing a weird suit under a plain brown trench coat.

It's pink, blue, and black. Kinda wrapped around his head and I hold out my hand. It even looks kinda like armor, the blue parts, and the pink is around his chest area. Kinda like he's already a full on hero.

"Victor."

"Remy." Remy starts, before bursting into laughter, "Gawdamnn. Where'd you find this kid, Teach?!" I can't help but burst out laughin' too. It's so funny how tense we were until Kurt broke the silence.

Logan smirks, "Well, Remy, Kurt, Victor… you guys are gonna be the three newest students of mine." he explains, "Weekly we'll have class, and then training in the afternoons, but Victor won't."

"Why's that?" Kurt asks.

"I don't wanna be an X-Man, that's why." I answer, "Fightin' ain't my thing anymore." It's not a lie, but it's not the truth either. It just is. Kurt nods and Remy chuffs a little.

"You musta been one helluva fighter, Loupgarou." he grins, "An' yes, that means werewolf."

Rolling my eyes and moving on I come across some other guy with a gold visor with a red lens. He seems to be the guy in charge from how he's standing. He holds out his hand and I take it.

"Scott."

"Victor."

We both look each other dead in the eyes, he's the leader. I can tell. Xavier's top brass. It's the way he carries himself. The way he stands. Confidence oozes off him like the crashin' waves of an ocean.

He smells like a military top dog.

I don't like him at all. Just on the sight of him alone I can almost see him tryin' to be all sanctimonious if I ever become an X-Man. That out there is just a battle with rules and all but not the absolute hell I used to know.

He and I let go of each other's hands, "Nice to meet you." I state.

"Likewise."

He moves towards Logan and takes him aside, with Kurt and Remy taking me away from the clothing room. Remy laughs a little at my dour expression.

"Don't be bothered none by Full Metal Jacket dere, Loup." he chuckles, "He's real hard t'get along with."

"Somethin' tells me he's a legacy kid. Is he?"

"Hell if I know, Vic."

Kurt dashes ahead when he sees a massive boy with muscles on muscles, "Piotr! Piotr!"

The boy turns and catches Kurt with a happy laugh, "Ah! Kurt, my friend!" his accent's different. Russian, he grins and looks over at us.

"Remy, who's this with you?" he smiles down at me and he's even taller than I am. Blue eyes, black hair in a flat top, almost solid looking.

"Dis here's Victor Creed Junior, Piotr." Remy jabs a thumb at me and I give him a playful snarl. He chuckles and Piotr gently puts Kurt back down, but he bamfs right back onto the big guy's shoulders.

"Hello!" he reaches out a hand and I take it, before being yanked into his chest before his other arm closes around me, squeezing hard and almost back breaking if he was any stronger and I wasn't torn to shreds enough over the years to take it.

He pulls away with a happy laugh, "I am what you call a hugger."

"Well I ain't that, so…"

"Oh! Sorry. I did not mean to make you uncomfortable, Victor." he pronounced it Vicktor. He's a good guy, must be the muscle of the team. So that makes…

Scott, the Leader.

Jean, the Empathic Psychic gal who I think is absolutely lovely. She's probably from this state I bet. She's given me those vibes ever since we locked eyes.

Remy LeBeau, the roguish charmer who's probably got sticky fingers by the way he's been sleight of handing a pack of playin' cards. Cajun.

Kurt, the fuzzy blue kid with a big heart and can teleport. He's German and well… he's pretty fun. Although he IS the youngest.

And now Piotr. The solid Russian muscle who's a hugger. Next thing I know we're all sitting in a big common room with Piotr and Remy trying to figure out a card game and Kurt not helping by hiding the cards. The common room's got big windows, a TV, a huge Entertainment Center with shelving for all the DVDs and VHS tapes you could dream of. The entire school's styled like a cozy place to live and I bet it is for the civilian kids who come here as a precautionary deal.

Not like me where I feel like this is the only place I can live without my Dad breathin' down my neck for every birthday.

"Where'd m'ace go? Didja see it, P?"

"No, no. I did not!"

Kurt looks at me and quirks up a finger to his lips, shushing me. I nod and grin, popping open a soda can with a claw and sipping gently. I could get used to this. As we hang out, and Remy's still tryin' to find the cards, a pair of girls come in.

One's got brown hair with a section that's stark white, her dark brown eyes take in the scene of Remy trying to reach a card on a ceiling fan before sighing.

"Remy LeBeau, what in the hell are you doin'?" she looks at me and nods, she must've been told about me by Logan or Scott, or Charles.

"Kurt hid the cards I put in the deck, cher!" he barks back, she just sighs and leans over the back of the couch.

"Hey. Anna Marie." she greets.

"Victor Creed Jr." I nod and raise my can, her eyes narrow a bit at that but she doesn't press it further, the other girl's got a yellow coat on.

"So wait, you're really Sabretooth's son?!" she gasps, wild black hair billowing almost like she's shocked it with electricity.

"Jubilee! Don't say that!" Anna hisses.

"Nah nah, it's alright. I am. See the resemblance, Miss Jubilee?" I point at my face with a grin on my face, there's a moment where she leans close, studying me with her dark eyes. Then she makes it click and there it is.

The realization makes me scarce before Scott and Jean come in. The place I was in before is still open to me and I hide in the sheets like a scared child, trying to banish the thoughts that she doesn't like me. That she knows the horrors, that they all know. My hands are still covered in red, years and years of it. No matter how much I try to wash it all out. I screw my eyes shut, trying to banish it all through sleep.

It claims me quick.

---

In the darkness, there's a shadow, the scent's weird and I can't exactly catch what it is in the dark, but I sit up in my bed, still sniffing and trying to pinpoint it. Getting to my feet and seeing a vague human shape, my claws slide gently out with not a sound. A growl rumbles through my throat, shattering the silence like glass as my muscles tense and prepare to pounce. But then I feel her. Jean's standing there shivering an' shaking in front of me like a leaf.

I loom over her, sniff the air, and she flinches. Her hand fell to her side as her eyes screwed shut. Her breath hitching and freezing slowly in the air. I ease myself back down and snarl to myself.

"What's with everyone an' tryin' to pry bar my brain open?!"

"I'm sorry, I…" she starts, voice still trying to find itself. My hackles droop and she opens her eyes, looking up at me with those blue ocean eyes like she can see forever. I lay back against the pillows.

"Whaddya wanna know?" my voice is soft, "Go ahead n' ask." I give her a smile. Not a wide one, I ain't showin' my teeth. She sits down on the bed across from me, her hair brushin' the sheets. She has a notebook out.

"What? You gonna write it down?" I sigh and she doesn't nod, just scratchin' that pencil again and again gently like she's doodlin' somethin. I let her.

"So… where're you from?"

"The Yukon." I state.

"Birthday?"

"First o' January." I look at her hair. How long and pretty it looked. Like fire. Her eyes meet my body, scribblin' again.

"Why is your name Victor Creed Jr?"

She's drawing me. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. There's an almost calming presence to her, like she's steadily

"My name… well, my Mama didn't name me Victor Creed Jr." there's a pause, "My Dad named me that. My Mama wanted to name me somethin' stronger. Somethin' better." I listen to her soft hum and I'm thinkin' of my Mama again.

"She had… had the most beautiful dark hair. Sleek n' straight. I… I grow my hair out like her's 'cause I never wanna forget her." I sound so small. So broken. There ain't a strong inkling in my body anymore.

"How'd she-"

"Throat torn out. I thought it was quick. But… but I was a kid. You never forget that. She tried so damn hard to fight him." My nails go into my knees, rivulets of blood run down 'em.

"I… I remember the way he got her body to look. Starin' right at me. Her eyes… they were… were dull. Like… like he snatched the life right outta them." I look at her and she's nodding along.

"Did I deserve it?" my voice warbles, "That was the question my little mind asked, y'know? Maybe I was too bad. Maybe I forgot to tithe at church or something but…"

"I lost my best friend when I got my powers." she says, "Hit and run. Right in front of my house."

I look out the window at the stars n' moon, "Everybody's got a sad story, yeah?" That's when I feel her hand grip my own. Small, soft, well… smaller than mine. She squeezes it.

There's a warm, fuzzy feeling between us. Like a fire, a small campfire and cuddled up under the stars. She lets go but I still got it in my head.

"I tend to write and draw my classmates' stories. It's just for remembering them if anything bad happens. It uh… helps."

"Thanks for listenin' Jean."

"You remembered?"

"I never forget." I tap the side of my head with my unbloodied hand. That's the gospel truth of my mind really. I will never forget much. She smiles and gets to her feet, going to the door and leavin' me alone.

Not before stopping at the door, "Have a good night, Victor."

"You too, Jean." my cheeks feel warm, almost warm and bubbly feelings as I softly fall asleep… my life might just be getting better.