Family Connections

I don't own them, really I don't, and for some reason the ones I do, sometimes I just don't like that well. I know some camps believe that Victor and Logan are related, for all intents and purposes of this story they are NOT, this is AU…I'm going to say it again…This is Alternate Universe, mine, they have no blood connection what so ever, so please don't flame me about it.

A new mutant sets off warning bells all over the place. Can she adapt to her new family, and what's looming on the horizon? Multi Parings

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Chapter 1

"I ain't tellin ya again." She cringed in the corner of the small room as the hand slapped across the top of her head. "I don't want ta hear a peep out of you." There was another backhanded smack for good measure and the door slammed shut and locked.

Helen looked at her hands, the fingernails broken down to the quick from digging at the door. The last time her mother had locked her in the closet like this she'd forgotten about her for almost a whole day. At least this time she had a sandwich she'd smuggled home from school so she wouldn't go completely hungry until her mother remembered she was in here.

She heard the door to the apartment open and loud male voices laughing and her mother's voice join in. She cringed further back in the closet, burying her head in the few clothes hung there to try to muffle the noises. Soon all she could hear were grunts and moans and occasional cries as her mother took care of business. Helen hoped that this time they'd pay enough so that they could buy some groceries. The only meal she was getting right now was the lunch at school.

She could feel the panic building, she hated dark enclosed spaces, and she knew if she screamed this time, her mother would beat her within an inch of her life. She bit down on her lip and tried to keep the quiet keening low so her mother wouldn't hear her. She tasted copper in her mouth as she bit her lip harder. The blood reminded her she was hungry but she didn't want to eat now, because that sandwich had to last her until her mother let her out.

She heard a loud cry from the room outside the door, and something heavy slam against the closet door. The grunts and moans were louder, along with a constant pounding on the door.

"Oh yeah baby…just like that, GOD YES!" She heard her mother's voice. "FUCK ME LIKE YOU MEAN IT!"

She bit harder on her lip, the concentrating on the hot blood in her mouth as she bit deeper. She swallowed the whimper as her teeth met in the middle. The pain was all she thought about, she let it block out the continued noises from outside the door as well as the growing smell. Smells had been bothering her a lot lately, everything smelled funny, and noises, they were getting louder. Her teachers were worried about her hearing, but she could hear everything.

She released her jaw and slid her lip from between her teeth. She knew she needed to get a band aid or something on it to stop the bleeding, but just as she thought it the bleeding stopped. She ran her tongue along the hole in the inside of her lip but it was gone, so was the one on the outside, and only drying blood sticking to her fingers as evidence she'd hurt herself. She stuffed a piece of cloth into her mouth and tried to keep from screaming. She could feel herself shaking and she was trying to muffle the moans as she rocked on the closet floor.

She didn't know how long she sat there, her head spinning, trying not to scream against the dark and the noise and the smells when there was another loud noise from the apartment, and more voices.

"Get the fuck out. You have NO RIGHT in my house. GET OUT!" Her mother was screaming.

"Ms. Denny, We're here because of your daughter…" She'd only heard people who talked like that in movies; there weren't that many people from the southern United States up here in backwoods Canada.

"You damned goodie goodies ain't gettin' my kid." Her mother screeched.

She could hear them clearly but her fear muffled the sound.

"…best for her…people like her…"

"YOU FREAKS GET THE FUCK OUT!" She heard the door slam and her mother muttering under her breath. "Damned mutie freaks. The kid's normal, damn it. I didn't give birth ta no freak."

Helen just sat there rocking. She could hear her mother pacing outside the door.

"This is all your fault you little pain in the ass. I aught ta just let them take you, you are nothing but trouble." She knew better than to say anything, she just sat there rocking, and praying for a miracle.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

He dropped his jacket on the chair inside the main door. He'd grab it later. Chuck rarely bothered him when he needed a night out, away from the kids, and he hadn't argued when the telepath had summoned him back to the school after only his second beer. He walked straight to Charles's office.

"Ahh, Logan, we have a problem."

"I kinda figured."

"A new mutant showed up on Cerebro tonight, and it is powerful."

"What kind?"

"Healing, like yours."

"What – I thought there were only two of us?"

"There are – or were. She became active tonight."

"She?"

"Her name is Helen Denny, twelve years old, born in Saskatchewan."

"Canadian?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

"A small town outside of Prince Albert."

"What does she look like?"

"We don't know yet. Her mother will not let Rogue or Bobby anywhere near the girl. We were hoping you might be able to give us some insight into a way to get her out of there."

"Insight?" He could feel his blood turning to ice. The age, the location, it was too damned close to his old stomping grounds. The only insight he could think of involved him and a blood test damn it.

"Logan, if you can think of anything – any local information that can be used to extricate this girl."

"How strong exactly is this healing ability?"

"As strong as yours – or stronger."

"I have one idea."

"We are open to anything."

"Okay – I want a paternity test."

"WHAT!? Do you honestly think…?"

"Yeah…I wasn't real careful up there, ya know. With that ability, the age, the place of birth, I..was in that area about thirteen years ago. My head was really screwed up at the time, and I took comfort where I could."

"Dear Lord, you might be right…and it is a legitimate reason to take custody of the child, or at least get her into pubic custody. I have Judge Williams on speed dial."

"It might be nothing, I mean…I'm not the only one with that healing power, she could be Creed's."

"I'm not sure which is a more frightening concept; you or Creed as a father."

"Yeah – well, no one nominated you for father of the year."

Charles just glared at him and picked up the phone.

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She listened as the pacing slowed outside the door and for a moment felt a surge of hope that her mother would unlock it.

"You just stay in there ya little bitch, they ain't getting' you without a fight." She heard her mother's muttered curse. Helen felt the silent tears burn down her face. Not for the first time she wished she were anyone else. She let her mind drift to a favorite fantasy. She was in a room with white walls and a canopy bed with lots of dolls and clothes and everything a girl could want. Downstairs she could hear voices, adult voices laughing; her parents, both of them.

She woke up to the sound of raised voices outside the door again.

"Ah have a court order and Ah'm takin tha girl." The southern voice was back again.

"Ma'am I'd do what she says. You won't like it when she gets mad." A soft spoken male voice said.

"I don't care if you bring the damned cops, she's my KID!"

"And Ah have a court order that says she may be someone else's kid, her father's."

"Her father was a drifter – met him one night in a bar, I ain't even sure WHICH drifter he is." Her mother sneered.

"Well AH got a court order says AH take her out of here – so get her things packed, or AH will get tha cops." The woman sounded angry to Helen, VERY angry.

"That piece of paper ain't worth shit – it's American, just like you."

"Yeah – but it's signed by a Canadian Judge."

"What?"

"Yep. Issued in Alberta."

"Damn." Her mother muttered under her breath. Helen felt a sudden surge of hope. These people knew her father, and were trying to take her to him. The sudden light hurt her eyes as her mother yanked the door open and dragged her out by the arm.

"Take the bitch, but you take her as is…you ain't takin' anything I've bought." Her mother snarled and threw her small backpack from school at her. "And take those damned useless books and notebooks of hers too."

Helen was shaking as the strange looking woman with the white streaks in her hair took her hand. Helen noticed the gloves, and the smile the man standing behind her gave her and she felt a ghost of an answer on her face.

"You'll be hearin' from Mr. Xavier's attorney about custody arrangements." The woman said coldly. "MY advice, sign whatever he sends, you don't want ME takin' tha stand."

Helen gripped the woman's hand tightly as the man picked up her small pack.

"It's alright, Sugar, we ain't gonna let her hurt you again." They led her out of the apartment and down to the strangest sight she'd ever seen; an airplane sitting in the middle of the street. They led her up the back ramp and helped her strap into a seat behind the pilot seat.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Rogue." The accent was suddenly less pronounced. "This is Mr. Drake. We work at a school for Gifted Youngsters."

"A school? I thought you were taking me to my father?"

"Let's wait and see, Sugar."

They were quiet through the flight. Helen noticed Rogue glancing back at her from the co-pilot's seat as Mr. Drake flew the plane. She'd never seen an airplane like this one before and she kept trying to glance around without getting caught.

They dropped suddenly and she jumped for a second, but caught the slight smile from Rogue and tried to hide her fear. She grabbed her own bag as soon as the plane landed and unfastened her own harness.

"Dr. McCoy is waitin' ta check you over, Sugar. Don't worry, it won't hurt." Rogue smiled at her and Helen liked her better when she was smiling. They took her to a small room down a metal hallway. Inside was a doctor's exam table and all the stuff she'd learned to expect at the free clinic when her mother had to take her when she was sick. The only difference, was these things looked new with no cracks or scratches or padding sticking through the covers.

She climbed up on the table and set the small bag on the floor next to her. She looked at her fingernails and noticed that they no longer were cracked and bleeding, but smooth and even. She could see herself in a mirror; the dried blood crusted on her bottom lip and chin, but not even a scar where she'd bitten through her lip. She didn't know what to make of it

She jumped when the door opened and just sat there in shock. She could feel herself beginning to panic. She'd never seen anything like this person – if it was a person. He was bigger than some of the truckers or cage fighters her mother brought home, and his face and neck were covered in fur – BLUE fur…his skin was blue, even on his hands and she was starting to wonder if maybe her teachers were right, and she was a little too imaginative. She reached down to pinch herself.

"I assure you I am quite tangible, young lady." The blue thing said with a kind voice.

"Uhhh – okay." She said.

"I need to take a sample of your blood; this might cause some minor discomfort."

"It'll pinch right?"

He laughed a deep throaty laugh and she couldn't help but smile at him. He gently inserted the needle in her arm, and she winced. It never pinched, it just hurt, and this time it was worse, it burned.

"OUCH!"

"That is the anti coagulant to keep your body from healing before I can get enough blood, as soon as the needle is removed the symptoms will cease." He said gently.

She rubbed her arm after he pulled the needle out and watched as the tiny spot just disappeared.

"How'd you know you needed it?"

"I have to use it for someone else." He said. "Someone will be with you shortly; I need to go analyze this."

She sat there alone, the cool air in the room making her shiver in the oversized T-shirt and ripped jeans that were her only clothes.

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He was pacing in Charles' office. He hated waiting, he hated not knowing. Since being here he'd learned more than he'd ever known about himself, and now he was waiting again, to find out something important that he hadn't known.

"Logan, you are wearing a hole in my carpet."

"Yeah – tell me you didn't pace before your son was born." Logan snapped.

"This is a blood test, and we will have the results very shortly. Please sit down."

"I'll sit down when I know for sure."

"Hank is on his way. The test only takes five minutes." Charles laughed.

"Blue Butt better have an answer."

The door opened and Hank stepped into the room. He looked at Logan.

"Congratulations, it's a girl."

Logan dropped into one of the leather chairs. A girl, he had a daughter, a twelve year old daughter. He looked down at his hands, hands so skilled at death and destruction, and wondered if he had it in him to BE a father. Up until now it had just been in his head, but the weight on his shoulders was almost more than he could stand. A child – his blood, and he had no idea the first thing to say to her.

He felt a light hand on his arm and looked up to see Marie standing there, his Marie.

"You alright, Sugar?"

"No…I'm a father."

"Couldn't have happened to a nicer guy…" She grinned at him.

"How the hell am I going to handle this?"

"One day at a time, Sugar. Now, I'm beat and Bobby still wants ta talk. God I hope he's not going to try ta propose again. I ain't in tha mood ta try ta explain AGAIN why that's a bad idea. Why don't you go down there and at least take a look at your girl?"

"I am lookin' at my girl." He whispered as she walked out the door.

"Logan, we've discussed this." Charles said softly as he wheeled himself toward the door.

"I know…leave her alone, let her make her own decisions, and I'm doin' in. Hurts like hell but I'm doin' it."

"You have parental responsibilities to deal with now. I will contact an attorney and start the custody procedures. For now she's in my custody, until the courts decide which parent would be the best for her permanently."

"Right – the kid…what's her name again?"

"Helen."

"Right." He stood up and followed the wheelchair out the door.

He took the elevator down to the second sub level and walked down the hall. The one way mirror let him see her before she saw him. She looked so pitiful sitting there. She was thin, too thin for a kid her age, her dark chestnut hair curled un controlled on her head, the cut was rough, more like it had only been cut to remove something. Her chin was still bloody from the wound that had drawn her to their attention, and her dark eyes kept flitting around the room like she was waiting for something bad to jump out.

He recognized immediately the signs of abuse he'd seen a hundred times in kids they'd brought in over the past few years. It wasn't unusual to find these kids in bad situations, but the burning anger in his chest this time was personal. He watched her react to his scent and realized it wasn't just his healing she'd inherited from him. He knew he needed to walk in there, and hoped like hell she hadn't figured out what fear smelled like, because he stank of it.

He opened the door and stepped into the room.

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She started when the door handle turned and another stranger walked in. His dark hair was curled up in two strange spikes over his ears and he looked rough, like the guys her mother would bring home. He was wearing a worn flannel shirt and a pair of old jeans and scuffed work boots. She had a sinking feeling that this was her father, and she felt ice down her back as she realized he could be a whole lot worse than her mother.

"Hey kid." He said softly, his voice gruff but with the familiar sounds of home, not like the others she'd heard around here. She just sat there, waiting for him to say something else. "I guess you've probably figured things out…I'm…I'm…my name's Logan."

"I'm Helen." She said quietly.

"I know. This is weird for me, too, ya know." He said with a slight smile.

"Yeah."

"Do you have anything you want to…say, ask?"

"Why?"

"Why? Why what…I mean…" He stuttered. Somehow it made her feel a little better.

"Why now, I mean, why…?"

"Well when you came up on our machines – with your healing, it threw up an alert, and when they told me where and when you were born, well it was the first thing that crossed my mind."

"But why do you care?"

"Oh, kid…I…no I'm not gonna lie ta ya. I don't know if I would have given a shit back when you were born. Up until a couple years ago, I didn't give a shit about anything. I didn't know who I was; I couldn't remember anything more than about twenty years ago. Then I met this kid, about five years ago, we ended up here, and they've been helping me try to remember. The more I remember, the more I give a shit."

She was surprised; most grownups just lied to her, and told her what they thought she wanted to hear. She just nodded.

"So – I don't know crap about being a parent. I help here with the kids, so I'm at least used ta that, but I'm gonna make mistakes."

"What?"

"Unless you want ta go back with your mother…"

"I can stay here?"

"That's the plan."

"Oh…"

"Come on, I'll get you settled."

"Where?" She looked around at the metal hallway he led her down.

"Upstairs." She heard the smile in his voice and relaxed a little more.

She was tense again when the door to the elevator opened upstairs. She'd NEVER seen anything like this – except maybe in old black and white movies. It was…elegant was the only word she could think of – right before expensive.

"Yeah – I reacted like that the second time I saw it."

"The second time?"

"The first time I was just tryin' ta escape."

"Escape?"

"I was out cold when they brought me here, I had no idea where I was or what was goin' on." He said softly as he led her up the main staircase. "Shit."

"What?"

"I have no idea what Charles has planned for you."

"Charles?"

"Charles Xavier, he owns this place." She watched a sudden look of distance cross his face, and then he smiled. "Right, we're both moving."

"What?"

"Charles thinks that one of the suites will work better, give us both our own space but time to get to know each other." He said gruffly as he led her to a room down the hall. The room looked a little worn, with dirty clothes dropped carelessly near the bathroom door.

"Tell ya what kid – don't tell me to clean my room – I won't tell you to clean yours." He said with a chuckle.

She smiled as he quickly packed an old green duffle bag and threw it over his shoulder. She followed him down the hallway again, and up another flight of stairs. He opened another door, this one to a living room with three doors off it. She just looked around and dropped her bag by the couch.

"I'll take that one." He said pointing to the closest door.

"I guess I get the couch." She said relieved. She was used to sleeping where ever she could, and lately it had been on a closet floor.

"Hell no - your room's there." He pointed to the furthest door. "Bathroom's between us."

"I have my own room – I don't have to share with anyone?"

"Yeah kid – your own room." He opened his door and carried his bag in. She just looked at the door for a minute, and then picked up her small bag and walked to the closed door. She opened the door and stopped dead. The room was huge. There was a desk – with a COMPUTER on it, and a dresser with a mirror next to the door from this room to the bathroom. The bed was simple – and huge. It was bigger than any bed she'd ever seen except in movies. She carried her bag to the desk and sat it down next to the computer.

"Did you bring anything to sleep in?" He asked.

"I don't…" She blushed.

"Right – I'll be right back." He left her alone in her room. HER room, she'd never had her own room before, she still couldn't believe it. She was running her fingers over the dresser and had just opened the door to the bathroom. It was HUGE, the entire bathroom was as big as the tiny apartment her mother lived in, and the tub was bigger than her mother's bed.

"These will do until we can get into town and pick you up some things." He said as he came in the door and dropped a stack of grey on the bed. She picked up a tank top that had a black X in a circle on the front. There were sweat pants and a zippered hoodie all with the same design on them somewhere. "Get some sleep; we'll take care of shopping in the morning."

She didn't think she'd have any problem doing what he said. She waited until he left and she closed both the doors and was relieved to see locks on her side of both. She still wasn't sure exactly what was going on, and being able to lock the world out made her feel a whole lot better.

She locked both doors and slipped out of the only clothes she owned in the world. She pulled on the tank top, it was too long but that was fine. She slipped under the covers on the bed and laid her head on the softest pillow she'd ever seen. She didn't trust it, but she wasn't going to fight, not right now.