They Never Trained Me For This
Chapter 1

5/6/10, I'm reposting chapters to get the scene breaks back in them and take care of formatting consistency.

Institute timeline: Graduation - They Never Trained Me (1 - 7) - Home to Meet the Family - Staying Home This Holiday - New Years New Beginnings - Never Trained (8 - 16) - Spring Break - Never Trained (17- ) Institutional Fairytale (timing imprecise) - (a century and a half) - Long Have I Lived

---nt

As the cliche goes, it was quiet. Too quiet.

The young woman concealed in the tree had rarely experienced this feeling. She was inside their perimeter, and it was the middle of the day, the weather was good and it was a Saturday. She knew from having been here before that there should be a lot of activity right now. Training if nothing else. All the vehicles seemed to be here. So where were they? They couldn't all be inside, there were too many for to have seen no one. And someone should have seen her.

Should have seen her three days ago. Other than a few glances in her general direction, she'd been largely ignored. She was still trying to figure out if she had been seen, or if they had just had a hunch. After all, they were almost as good as she was. She'd watched them come and go, laughing, training, scowling- she'd never know what it was to be normal, but they seemed half way between her and whatever normal was. But other than a run for the mail and newspapers by one of the students, she'd seen no one all day.

She stiffened. At a slight noise. A footstep. Reflexively, she tightened on herself, tasting the air. She knew the scent, only a few people could get behind her like that. She'd fought this person before, and won.

"Hi there! Wanna come inside?" Kitty Pryde waved.

"Where is he?"

"Mr Logan? He's inside, we've been expecting you to come up for a couple days."

The younger woman leaped from the tree. "Why isn't HE here? Is he afraid of me?"

"No. But the last time you spoke, you told him to stay away, that he couldn't help you and it was better that way. So he's letting you decide. Just like I will." Shadowcat strolled past the lurker. She was doing her best to be nonchalant.

X-23 stared, her emotions a jumble of anger, embarrassment, curiosity and loneliness. I will not run after her. I won't hurry. Wolverine will come to me. I swear it, I won't... I won't... I...

She jogged after the older girl.

---nt

Wolverine's fingers tightened on the window trim, stopping just short of letting his claws unsheathe. She was out there, watching, just on the other side of the trees. He'd smelt her, but he could imagine her on a branch, only her nose and eyes moving as she allowed herself to melt into the tree. "I just wish I'd known earlier, to protect her. I don't even know how to be a father, what if I screw up?"

Xavier looked towards the trees as well. "Rogue and Kitty and the others, they trained you for this. You'll do fine."

---nt

X-23 froze on the steps, her nose twitching. She could smell them, the X-Men, the New Mutants. They were waiting, it was an ambush. Kitty opened the door, holding it. "You've come this far- we won't hurt you. But you can stop now."

"Why should I believe you?"

Shadowcat shrugged. "How did I know you weren't going to like, chop me up? I trusted you enough to not phase out- I'll even leave the door open if you want."

You have my word of honor. X-23 flinched at the touch of Professor Xavier's mind. She pushed back as best she could. His voice was soft, warm, like a sun beam through leaves as she sat on a tree branch. She shook her head, hard, trying to brush the sensation away. The ripple of bemusement made it feel like leaves were fluttering between her and the fullness of the sun. And you've beaten us before. You are in no danger.

The parlor was as much entry way as it was living room, had been for years. So everyone looked relaxed as they sprawled on the furniture or leaned against the railing to the upstairs. The last time X-23 had seen them this close, she'd gone through them like a tornado through a wheat field. The looked, if anything, curious. Some were even smiling, not a predator's grin, but real smiles. She felt a flash of heat, of anger- how dare they smile and relax? Didn't they know what was out there? There were real monsters in the world, and they'd let one into their sanctuary. Fools, I could-

The thought stopped cold when she saw Him. She hadn't really noticed before just how short he was- many of the girls here were taller than him. But she was short, to. Her hands were shaking. She hadn't noticed, when did that start? Her heart was racing, her breath was getting short. He held a hand out to her, palm up, open. He wasn't wearing his gloves. And he was smiling, was he laughing at her? No- his nostrils were twitching quickly, as fast as her's. Her eyes flicked along his throat, she watched as he swallowed, his pulse showing in his muscular neck. He can't be afraid? Of me?

She made herself stand fast, she wouldn't back down. Fear kills, she couldn't be killed. She couldn't be afraid. "Logan, why didn't you come outside to talk to me?"

"You've run twice- I was worried you might make a habit of it." His voice was firm but soft. He took a half step forward. "But I hope you might stay."

"But the last time..."

"You were confused, lost." Professor Xavier's voice had the same warm, easy confidence when spoken aloud as it did in telepathy. "We want to help you."

"And what do I have to do? What do you want from me?" The questions came fast, her voice a sharp staccato.

Logan took the extra stepping, resting his hands on her shoulders. "To just be you, the real you, not something from a test tube fed on hate and lies. I want to get to know that real you. I know you are trying do that to; we can do it together, kid."

"I would rather you called me Laura. I... think I like it." Her smile was as much sheepish as anything else. She was still getting used to being able to like things.

Logan nodded. His voice wasn't much more than a whisper. "'Laura'. It sounds right." He pulled her closer, arms around her, resting his cheek on the top of her head. Only the best ears could of heard his voice. "So do you want to stay?"

---Author's Notes:
Laura, from the laurel plant. In Roman tradition, a crown of laurel leaves was given to honor a person who had perform a great service or made a great accomplishment. The leaves are symbolic of victor and honor. (And most people know them better as bay leaves.)