Title: Fates Champions: The Beginning

I wanna heal, I wanna feel

What I thought was never real

I wanna let go of the pain I’ve felt so long

(Erase all the pain till it’s gone)

I wanna heal, I wanna feel

Like I’m close to something real

I wanna find something I’ve wanted all along

Somewhere I belong…

-Linkin Park, “Somewhere I Belong”

Chapter 3; Saving Harry

After almost an hour and a half, he was finely getting tired of beating up his nephew, so he then started too drag the unconscious boy towards the cupboard under the stairs. After all, it had been a long day, and he was ready to join his wife and son in bed. Without even looking at the small frame in his hands, he started to open the cupboard door, only to stop when…

CRASH!

The front door was blown off its hinges and several strange people stood in the doorway of the, oh so ordinary house.

“Put the boy down now,” said the ruff Canadian with anger evident in his voice, as he entered the small suburban house, with three people fallowing closely behind him. They were none other the infamous Logan (Wolverine) aka James Howlett, Ororo (Storm) Munroe, Jean (No coda name yet) Grey, and shortly fallowed by Professor Charles (Professor X) Xavier.

“Storm, Jean could you please quickly take the boy to the X-Jet and prepare it for flight. Logan and I are going to sit down and have a nice talk with Mr. Dursley here,” said Professor Xavier as he came into the living room, with a grim expression on his face…

On board the x-jet, the two women quickly separated. Storm headed towards the cockpit as Jean carefully flouted the fragile boy towards the small on board medical bay. “I wish Beast was here.” she muttered to herself as she set to work healing the boy as best she could.

“How’s it going back there?” Storm called from the cockpit.

“Not good, he’s in bad shape and somehow he’s managed to block all of my attempts at helping smooth the pain, when I try using with my telepathy.”

“Is that even possible? He shouldn’t have the natural defenses that Logan or I have. Should he?”

“I didn’t think so, but it’s like his mind isn’t even there. All I get when I try to enter his mind are those big fluffy clouds, you know the type, the ones you’d find in a cartoon or painted on a little kids ceiling, over miles of ocean.”

“How…”

“I not sure, it’s like someone removed his mind and replaced it with that image.” Shaking her head she sighted before continued. “Unlike you or Logan, he does not seem to have anything protecting his mind it’s just not there.”

“Have you tried asking for permission to enter? I know Charles needs my permission to enter any farther then my surface thoughts.”

“No but why would I? There isn’t any sort of natural defiance like you have, or the dark chaos of memories, like the professor says Logan has.”

“Well it can’t hurt to try?”

Turning back towards the boy on the table, she slowly started to relax and focused on the little boy laying in front of her.

Back at the house

“Mr. Dursley my name is Professor Xavier, and I run a school for gifted children.” The man stated, as the two women walked out the hole in the wall, where the door ones use to be.

“I don’t bloody well care who you are freak. You will get the hell out of my house.”

“Mr. Dursley I’m afraid we can’t do that. Now if you kindly get your wife.”

“GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE FREEK!”

“IF YOU DON’T REMOVE YOURSELF FROM MY HOME I’LL CALL THE BOBBY. AND YOU CAN TACE THAT LITTLE FREAK WITH YOU.”

“Mr. Dursley, I would love for you to call the police. Then you could explain what happened to that boy.”

Never being one to lesion to other people, Vernon completely ignored Professor Xavier and continued to rant like the good Professor hadn’t spook at all.”

“I WANT YOU OUT OF MY HOUSE”

“GET OUT”

It was then that Petunia Dursley came down stairs looking none too happy. “Vernon” she hissed. “What will the neighbors think?” She said before she observations the two strangers in the middle of her living room, the first being an older, bald man, who was dressed quite nicely, although confined to a wheelchair. But it was then she looked at his face that she noted the grim expression on his face. A look she might add, that didn’t seem to fit him.

It wasn’t till the other man started to growl that she finely got a good look at him (something that she regretted doing as soon as she did it.). He matched her height at five, eleven and he looked almost more animal then man, with his worn tattered close (that could have given her nephew a run for his money), and far too much hair the respectable, but it was the three claws that stuck out between his nucleus that startled her the most. And like the other man, she finely looked at the man’s face, and for a second time since she looked at the man, she regretted it. For unlike his companion whose face only held degust his held a disturbing combination of hatred and anger. But it was more then just anger or hate coming off the man; it was a look that said all it wanted to do was tare you apart lime from lime in the most painful way possible. Just to put you back together again and do it all over again.

It was that look that made her quite her husband down, it was that look that made her sign ever paper that they had, it was that look that made her tell them all about her sister and her nephew, and finely it was that look that made her look throughout the house for everything that belonged to the boy and anything that her sister might have left with her.

After finishing up with the Dursleys, he did a quick (mental) check in with Storm, to make sure that the jet was ready to go. Shit, was his next thought as a mental backlash nearly knocked him out of his chair. “We have got to get back on board the Jet, something has gone wrong.”

They quickly enter the jet then went there separate ways, Logan too the cockpit, to inform Storm that it was time to go. And Charles headed to the hospital bay.

Looking around he sees the hospital bay a mess, with the boy lying peacefully on the exam table and chaos all around him. With Jean’s unconscious form lying against the wall and her mind unassembled to him.

Next chapter: walking up