Public Enemy
X-men x Reader
Sum: Powers don’t always obey their masters. Sometimes they have their own minds, making problems and causing destruction that you’re left to deal with. When that happens, you’re going to need some help finding a sanctuary.
an: It’s not specified what Reader’s power is but I was thinking force-fields. I just think Force-field powers are neat.
Charles Xavier:
Charles’s office, specifically the couch, has been your home for some time. Although it has only been a few days, two at most, but it felt like years. Hours spent sitting specifically in the couch’s corner where anyone entering wouldn’t notice you right away. Reading and taking your place as secretary more seriously makes time move in a slower fashion.
“Would you grab that book for me?” Charles asks, slapping you out of whatever deep thought you were currently drowning in.
At first these little tasks he asks you to do seem to come randomly. As if he just remembered you were there and felt bad. In reality he’s probably been in the outer layer of your mind for longer then you’ve been in the office.
Ignoring these facts, you focused on your work. It had spread quickly through the school that you were open and able to grade anyone’s homework or papers. Like the rest of your current life, these were taken care in Charles’s office. A place you’ve been bent over for hours until a phone call held your attention.
Charles is a pretty decent liar. Between his history with authority and with children, he speaks with enough confidence that it’s not worth thinking about. Obviously he still had his tells, even if the person he was lying wasn’t in front of him, he still looked down and go quiet for a second.
“No, I’m afraid we haven’t heard from her.” When he starts his lie, his tells are typically gone. “Yes, we will absolutely contact you if she comes here. And, in the event of that happening, I ask that consider our relationship before deciding anything.”
You don’t say anything when he hangs up. Instead deciding that to grab that book before he asks you to.
Erik Lehnsherr:
Erik was nice enough not to say or ask anything at first. Your few items in a bag, and all your savings spent on bribing a boat captain to take you here. All this was written on your face, practically screaming that you don’t want to talk about it.
“Is anyone going to be coming?” was the only thing he asked.
Instead of a verbal answer you shrugged with a shake of your head. Maybe…
Erik uses the excuse of an escort to keep a hand on your back, around your shoulders. Even gently on the back of your neck to ask his question in a whisper. Although Genosha was supposedly a sanctuary to all mutants, you were still an outsider. An outsider who had, not only, caused destruction but just might bring down the anger of the world onto them.
“You came here quickly, then.” Erik says, in leadership mode. Sitting across from you, elbows on his knees, looking almost into you.
“You guys aren’t exactly hiding,” It wasn’t a good joke but still you blow air out of your nose, trying to force a tiny laugh.
“Then why come here to hide?” He asks.
When the answer you give is another shrug (I don’t know…) he sighs. Standing and returning with a hot cup of beverage. A kettle had either been set before he stepped out to greet you, or one was constantly kept a little warm. Either way it was somewhere between tea and coffee, but definitely not both.
“What did you do?” he asks.
It took some time to tell the entire story. Skipping too many details about the fear and anger that all came at you at once. Erik has heard it all before in much worse amounts. Only admitting that you were wanted, so many were hurt or completely destroyed by a lapse of control.
He doesn’t interrupt or ask any other questions. He just listens and keeps an ear out for helicopters.
Raven/ Mystique:
At some point you were taken to the hospital with the other survivors. The journey was hard to remember; being placed on a bed and tossed around in the back of an ambulance. Pretending to be just as out of it as the others, really just avoiding eye contact with the paramedics.
It’s nice to think that you had a plan for when you got to the hospital, and you kinda did. With all the people coming in at once there was the chance you’d be left in the hallway or an open area to wait for a bed. In the event of that happening you could just roll over and walk out. Just walk with confidence and make it out the door.
That you were now restrained in a bed in your own room meant that plan was out the window. Laying back and letting the nurses check you out with shaking hands. Just enough to check you over but not enough to pretend to be doing their job.
“It’s fine,” The nurse says, practically slamming the room door shut behind him. It wasn’t a thick door; you could still hear through it. “Please don’t make me go near it again.” He says to someone in the hallway, probably a doctor or some other superior.
It isn’t until their talking has mostly stopped that you bother trying to escape. Your restraints were soft but also tight, something that you couldn’t slide out of easily. Rocking the bed, trying to tip it over, would just leave you dangling off the side. Still strapped in but with bruises and staring at the floor.
While thinking of another dashing escape plan the door opens again. A nurse steps and gently closes the door behind her. This one was a woman nurse, so far you’ve only been dealing with males. It was likely because of the threat you posed that it had only been men. Specifically, the biggest nurses and orderlies that were available.
Because of this you watch the woman as she walks over. She was a small woman with brown hair in a bob cut, the white uniform and a smile she held while pulling the curtain around. You were smart enough not to say anything until she did. Or until she shifts entirely from white uniform into blue skin, immediately pulling at your restraints.
“Hey, Hi. Babe, I’m sorry…” You have a million things to say at once.
All the words fighting to be the first to be said. All ignored by your girl, who just places a gentle hand over your mouth and whispers a shhh. Going back to the restraints and whispering:
“Don’t say anything,” She says, opening the first and reaching over to get the next. “Let’s just get out of here.”
You quickly pulled the faded green scrubs over your clothes. Raven placing a surgical hat on your head and mask over your face was the best she could do. Raven quickly becoming the bobbed hair nurse again. She nods at you, as if to say, “everything will be fine.”
Peter Maximoff:
So much energy coming out at once has to take it out form somewhere. What was a splitting headache a second ago became a massive weight. One that dragged you down from the standing position and towards the floor. Only to be caught by arms that were not there a second ago.
It wasn’t that Peter was “harboring a fugitive,” or was “obstructing justice” he was just helping out his girlfriend. Something that he has argued about with several people.
“I don’t believe this was done on purpose, Ser.” Professor Xavier says into the phone, staring at Peter as he did. “No, she still has yet to reach out to us. To any of us. The moment she does we will tell you.”
Peter makes a face and shrugs when the phone is hung up. “I don’t see why they need her. It’s was an accident, she said sorry, I don’t see what else there is.”
Professor Xavier doesn’t seem to bother asking where you are. Peter wouldn’t tell him, and he could easily find you with cerebro.
“Is she safe?” He asks, wanting whatever truth Peter was willing to give.
“I mean, I don’t know where she is, but she safe. I think, yeah, she’s safe.” He says. Smart enough to help you vanish but not enough to know better then to lie to a telepath.
Hank McCoy:
Like a little kid you’ve chosen the staircase banister to hide behind. Either hand holding onto a separate bar, looking out between them. Your spot was strategically placed far enough away from the door that they wouldn’t see your details through the banister. As far as they were concerned you were just a curious kid. A very big curious kid.
“They” were the people Hank was currently handling at the door. It had been only two days since the incident and it’s amazing it took them this long to reach your door. Three men in suits and a woman in a white coat knocked at your door just after lunch.
Sending the students from the hall Hank took control of the situation. Never outright telling you to leave the main hall but did make a similar “shoo” gesture that he gave the kids while telling them to make their exit.
Although the distance gave you an advantage it also kept you from hearing what was being said. The men on the other side weren’t giving enough body language to tell if they were upset or not. Only one seemed to be talking, the others were moving side to side on their feet. If Hank were to move too far to one side or the other they’d try and make their way inside.
“They don’t have a right to take you, not legally or in anyway.” Hank had reassured you hours earlier.
It started to get tense on the other side of the room. One of the men giving up on waiting for an opening and trying to make one himself.
Hank’s change can happen slow or it can happen so fast you don’t even realize it. The friendly approach of a regular human at the door was abandoned the moment they showed aggression. Blue arms and baring teeth made all three jump, reaching for their hips. The woman in white, the seeming bravest of the group, steps forward. A hand reached out, but the door is slammed in her face.
Jean Gray:
Life is confusing and everyone is screaming.
At first their screams were sympathetic; they were screams of fear and pain. But after hearing them non-stop for several minutes it’s hard to feel bad. It was almost like they were doing it on purpose. Like, if they just shut up for one second you could figure what was happening.
They didn’t, though, they wouldn’t shut up. Distracting you from the indestructible bubbles creating and growing in the walls, machines and skin. Expanding and tearing everything apart.
There’s two other voices among the screaming that stands out: the first is the loudest. It’s the purest form of anger and fear that could ever be made. It was also the most annoying, if that one person would just shut-the-fuck-up you could probably think. The other voice is the only one not screaming. It wasn’t sweet or kind like it was before, it was harsh and stern. Power behind the voice making it louder then a scream ever could be.
It was pretty obvious whose voice was yours and who’s belonged to Jean.
Jean’s voice was like that. It was powerful, it was a strict father’s and a commanding mother’s combined. If she wanted to, she could make it impossible to escape her voice. She uses this power of voice now: Where your ears can’t take any information, but your mind was burst open and unprotected.
You never understood what she was saying completely. Only that it was nice, and that it made everything go black.
Logan/ Wolverine:
More than half the population of earth is smarter than Logan. He’s more than willing to admit that, but what he did know was not to poke an already agitated bear. That’s all you were in that moment. A very pissed off bear sitting in the corner of a glass square.
It honestly wouldn’t have been that bad if Peter hadn’t compared it to the cages Magneto had been in. That was when everything seemed to become real for you.
This was only way that there wouldn’t be an absolute hunt for mutants. Your containment in exchange for a lie told by the Secretary of Defense to the entire world. That, no, there was not “mutant attack”, this was an unexplained, isolated incident. One that was now being held in the basement of a government building until your fate is decided.
“Are you allowed to smoke in here?” You ask, picking at the bottom of your white scrubs.
“I didn’t see the signs.” He says, waiting for someone to dare and yell at him about the cigar.
Instead of asking for the cigar verbally you raise a hand towards one of the small breathing holes. He slides it towards you, butt first. Only giving a little direction on how to puff the thing instead of straight up inhale it.
Smoking anything while stressed was a good way to start a bad habit. Something Logan tried to keep you from. Given the situation, he allowed the nicotine high you were gonna get from working on the thing. It was another test for this place. A test to see just how long or how many little rules he could break before someone yelled at him.
Not that he would ever use this knowledge for selfish means. It was just good to know when things would start to go south. Not that the Professor gave him permission, he just didn’t tell him not to.
Kurt Wagner:
Any pictures or footage taken of you during the incident were stolen straight from hell. That was the only aspect anyone cared about; the ones where you were wild and there was nothing in your eyes except for uncontrolled power.
No one thought about the few seconds after the incident. That instead of power there was confusion and fear. Staring at your hands and into the world looking for answers.
That scene only lasted a few seconds. Long enough for the blue devil to match your hell appear and disappear with you.
Like a child you went to bed without dinner. Although it was by choice, and this wasn’t your bed. It was a hiding place in the same building that your seekers were searching. But with a protective layer of blankets, and an extra layer of your boy sitting in front of the door, you could enjoy these last few minutes before your life goes to hell.