When Caroline came to, she snuggled into her bed.

For some inexplicable reason, she couldn't wait to get up, hug her mother, and go to school with Elena and Bonnie. She couldn't wait for her teachers to greet her with their happy teacher-smiles, she couldn't wait to eat her apple in the break, or her peanut butter and jelly sandwich at lunch.

She was so content with being alive, and loved the warm, soft sheets on her body more than anything.

Then she sat bolt upright.

Her eyes flying open in a panic, Caroline looked around wildly.

She was in a bed. A bed. She hadn't been in a damn bed in five freaking years?! The walls around around her were beautifully wooden and lined with books. Her eyes shot to the ceiling, where there was an actual roof over her head.

It was then she felt the restrictions in her arm, and she looked down to see at least four needles sticking out of them.

Her heart and mind were racing, and she could feel her powers coming to the top of her mind, as the panic set in. She had no idea where she was, or what the hell she was doing there. Why in heck did she have a drip sticking out of her arm?

As the unfamiliar environment began to overwhelm her, Caroline fought hard to keep her control. She knew she could blow out every bit of glass in the room, as well as trip all the electricity if she wasn't careful.

Taking deep calming breaths, she focussed her mind on a different problem. Her escape. Something she could control. She looked at the door, and immediately wrote it off as a bad job. She had no idea where it led, and she learnt the hard way, after she had only been in New York a few weeks, never to go through unfamiliar doors.

She glanced, instead, to the windows. They were large enough for her to climb out of, and they didn't seem to be electronically alarmed either. Pulling the needles from her body, she padded towards the expanse of glass, her feet very lightly gracing the floor, her fingers nimbly undoing the locks as she went.

One leg was through the gap, and her body was following when she heard a throat clear from behind her. She started, and smacked her head on the frame of the window.

"God dammit," she cursed, rubbing at the sore spot.

She looked up defiantly, straight into the eyes of the man from the street.

He looked in much better shape today than he had, whenever it was she had saved him. His clothes weren't tattered, and he wasn't matted in the dried blood, as he had been.

Caroline was a little ashamed to say how long she ogled his broad, muscular frame, as he leaned against the doorjamb.

"Going somewhere?" he asked, with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah," Caroline said stubbornly, pulling her eyes from his body, as she slid her second leg through the window. "Back home."

"You don't have a home, kid," he replied, the stony expression not wavering for a second. "I'm Logan."

"Whatever you say, seeing as you know all about me," Caroline drawled, ignoring his introduction. "Do you forget I saved you? You owe me. Let me go, and we'll be all square."

With that, Caroline was running through the grounds of the strange property. She only looked back once, and marvelled at the beauty of the place. It was a huge, old, stone mansion, with perfectly manicured garden beds. Caroline had never seen a place so grand, and she'd been to the Lockwood mansion.

When she reached the boundary, she slowed, jumping high enough to be able to cling onto the top of the gates. Once again, she was half over when she heard the throat clearing again.

"Am I going to have to get up there and get you?" he asked.

"No, you can stay down there and let me leave."

"Hear me out, this place it is –"

"Not my home," she said firmly. "See you."

She slid the rest of her way down the fence, and began walking along the road. She wasn't a 100% sure where she was, but she would find her way.

Who knows, maybe she wouldn't go back to New York. Maybe Elena Gilbert could find a new place to live with her perfect nuclear family.

She had almost lost sight of the mansion, some minutes later, when a car drove up and began to match pace with her. She sped to a jog, but car stayed level.

She rolled her eyes and huffed loudly, before veering from the edge of the road, to clamber over the nearest fence. Anything to get away.

Caroline heard a loud, frustrated growl emanate from the car as it screeched to a halt. She could hear the engine still running, and the man chase after her, but she kept her eyes forward.

"You're being absolutely ridiculous!" Logan shouted, in his exasperated, gruff voice.

"I'm being sensible," she shot back, as she moved further and further away from him. "I'm fine on my own."

He let out another irritated growl and she heard him stop.

"At least have dinner."

"I'm not hungry!" she shouted, though not loud enough to mask the light grumble in her stomach.

"Sure you're not," he drawled, and turned to go.

Logan wasn't really sure why he was perusing her. The dogged girl obviously wanted to do things her own way, something he definitely could relate to. But Charles had insisted he get her to stay, and Logan owed it to the professor to at least try.

"Why do you care so much? Yeah I helped you escape those MRD bozos, but it's not like I saved the entire freaking world."

"I don't care," he said, brusquely. "But you helped me, and there's someone back at that school that can help you."

"It's a school?" Caroline asked. For the first time since she woke up, she felt a flicker of interest stir within her.

"Professor X's school for gifted youngsters," he said, resigned.

"I'm not exactly young," Caroline scoffed, though she couldn't quite shake the creeping feeling of hope that was spreading through her.

"Yes, you are, kid," he said. "Yes, you are."

Caroline was watching him closely and saw a shadow fall across his face, like he'd seen more things than he wanted, and lived longer than he should have.

And it was that, more than anything else, that had her walking back towards him. It was almost as if maybe he wouldn't hate her for the things she'd done in the past.

Maybe she could finally feel at home.

xxx

Caroline was regretting going back the moment she stepped through the doors.

There were flocks of young people, milling about the halls, all of whom seemed very taken with Logan and very unsubtly interested with Caroline.

Perhaps once, long ago, or even if she'd had a normal life, she would have revelled in the attention. But it felt disconcerting. What if someone recognised her? What if someone asked her name? What would she say?

"This way to the dining hall," Logan murmured.

"I don't want to go," Caroline said, skittishly. "I don't want to be here. I've changed my mind. I'm ready to go now."

Logan groaned again, but changed course, steering her away from where he indicated the dining hall was, in the opposite direction, until she was faced with two large wooden doors.

There was a gold plaque on the door that read 'Charles Xavier'.

Logan knocked once, then entered.

Behind the desk, was a bald, kind looking man. He was neither particularly young, nor particularly old. His eyes were alight with a curiosity as he surveyed her, and Caroline found herself just trusting him, for no reason other than she felt safe in his presence – and it was putting her on edge.

"Good evening," he said, holding out a hand for her to shake. When she merely eyed the hand suspiciously, he smiled, and continued, "My name is Charles Xavier or –"

"Professor X," Caroline drawled. "Yeah, I figured."

He just smiled that tranquil smile of his while he watched her.

Caroline was beyond uncomfortable with the entire situation. She didn't even know these people, what if they were secretly working for the MRD or for some other government agency.

"Well, you know my name, what's yours?"

It was a standard enough question, but it had Caroline itching to bolt for the gates again.

"Look, Sir," she said, ignoring both his title and question. "But I don't know what this place is, or what you want from me. But I do know that I want to get back to my life. Thank you for keeping me safe while I was out of it, but I really can make it on my own from here."

She offered him a tight and began to turn to the door.

"Hiraeth," the professor said.

She paused for a moment, surprised that they had managed to uncover her street name. But it wasn't like it was that hard. She'd been on those streets for years, everyone knew everyone.

"So you know what I'm called?" she shrugged.

"I want you to stay here and learn with us," the professor said, dropping all pretext of pleasantries.

Caroline raised her eyebrow, wholly unimpressed.

"We know what you are."

"Yeah, no shit," she sneered. "I control things with my mind. I'm not special."

"ON the contrary," he said, coming around his desk for the first time, and his wheelchair humming lightly as he came. "I believe you are very special."

"Well, you wouldn't be the first person to tell me that," she muttered. "But it doesn't make it true."

Caroline turned away again, her hand on the door. She heard him sigh and roll closer towards her.

"Please, let us help you."

Once again, it wasn't the words that caught her attention, rather the fervency of them. Caroline knew that this Charles, or Professor X, or whatever she was supposed to call him, really wanted to help her. No ulterior motive.

"You can stay here with us; the room you were in can be yours. You won't even have to come out for a couple of weeks while you adjust. You and I can do one on one lessons in the evenings."

She looked into his eyes, so full of goodness, and she was on the brink of agreeing, when Damon's demonic eyes flashed behind hers, then the eyes of the nameless man from her bedroom that night, then Damon's blank eyes, and she couldn't agree.

"I don't need helping."

This time she got the door open and was half way down the hall when she heard the call, "Please, Caroline."

And she froze, her body and mind betraying her usually collected exterior.

It was a name she'd not heard fall from anyone's mouth in her presence for over five years. It was a name she protected at all cost. It was an identity, a link to a former life, one she didn't want to ever have to face again.

Caroline steeled her nerves and turned slowly, almost menacingly, back towards the professor and Logan standing in the office, a stony expression on her face.

"I don't go by that name anymore," she gritted out, her voice as steady as she could make it.

The man smiled softly, sympathetically, and she took a deep, shuddering breath, as she made to turn away again.

"I want to learn about you, Caroline. Logan here told me about your amazing control over your power. You are so very young. Most people your age have barely even discovered their powers, yet you… You were able to do something truly incredible. Your ability to control –"

Then Caroline snapped, all the she had carefully cultivated over the last half decade, came spewing out at this kind man, for bring it all up again.

"My ability to control? Are you kidding? Do you know what I did the first day I found out I had the stupid powers? I killed a man. I killed him. Do you know how I killed him? I invaded his mind, and made him feel all the pain he'd ever made me feel, and he couldn't handle it. How was I supposed to? How was I supposed to come to terms with losing everything? Where the hell were you people back then? Where the hell was he? And all his talk of greatness. I'm not special, I'm not great, I'm not anything. I'm not anyone. I just want to live in peace."

Stubborn tears began to fall down her face, and Caroline saw Logan look away, to let her fall apart unobserved. But the professor's piercing eyes kept boring into hers.

"You can live peacefully here," he said softly, not wanting to spook her. "That's why I created this place. Please, the streets are becoming more and more dangerous by the second. Let someone be there for you, Caroline."

"No one's ever been there for me in my life," and she hated the truth that wavered in her voice as she said it.

"We will be," Logan stated.

"We will," the professor promised.

And for some unknown, insane reason, Caroline felt herself give in. The desperate yearning she had to find a home overriding every instinct she'd developed in her short, but oh so long, life.

"Fine."

HEY! I wanted to get this out today, but I'm real tired so I've not reread at all so please forgive me the terrible mistakes! Today has been a hot mess of a day, so hopefully this can be the day's saving grace. :) We're in for another time jump within the next couple of chapters I think, and then KLaroline will actually get to interact. :P LET ME KNOW WHAt you think. By for now not forever! xxx