A Machine Without Feelings (Cherik) | ✓

𝔈𝔭𝔦𝔩𝔬𝔤𝔲𝔢

Logan stood outside the countryside estate, whistling a little at its sheer scale. It was large, but considering Chuck had been given 20,000 pounds, he had expected something larger. That was just like Chuck, though. He had been content in their Eden House, cramped and simple as it was.

Chuck was always someone who valued the people around him, rather than walls and ceilings and windows. Seeing the estate before him, grand but also warm and exactly like Chuck, Logan smiled. It has been ten years since he'd last seen the blue-eyed man and his sisters, and it was comforting to know that some things still remained the same.

From where he stood outside, Logan could hear the sound of children laughing, a chorus of voices rising up through the gaps in the door. There were too many voices to count, but that was understandable for a school.

Logan had thought that he would have had more trouble tracking down Charles Xavier, but the man had made it ridiculously easy.

After killing Stryker, Logan had gone to the Americas, where he lived a hard and fast life. It had been fun, for a while, but part of him always longed to go back to the days where it was just him, his sisters and Chuck. Ten years had passed, and it was time to come back home.

When his ship had docked, he had gone by horseback from the port city to the shire Chuck's lover's Ironfield Hall was in. He was surprised to find that the place had become a school and had nearly turned back, until he saw the plaque out the front.

Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters

Logan had grinned. Chuck had not been idle for the past decade, starting up a school. He had heard from the owner of a local inn that the school was built two years ago on the land owned by a Mr Lehnsherr. Apparently, the original estate had been burned down in a tragic accident and left abandoned for years.

Ironfield had always been a bit of an enigma before it had been burned to the ground; people knew that the master of the grand old house was a Mr Lehnsherr, and that he was an unsociable and cold man, though rich and powerful. No one knew much about his family, except that his parents had passed when he was barely a man. It had only been after the fire broke out that it was discovered that Mr Lehnsherr had a wife, who perished in the blaze. Most felt pity for the man, losing a wife and his home in one fell swoop. Others, who had heard the rumours that the woman had been mad and vicious, thought him blessed instead. Others did not believe in rumour and hearsay, just knowing that Mr Lehnsherr was a reclusive and obscure man, one that was more myth than tangible reality.

There had been some other rumours that circulated just months before the fire, about how Mr Lehnsherr had kept a lover who ran away - a man. Someone spread the rumour that the master of Ironfield was not only an adulterer, but a sodomite. But not many people paid heed to the rumour; Mrs Emma Summers, née Frost, had heard of the rumours and laughed them silly - her dear friend, Mr Lehnsherr, had only ever loved true once in his life. She told everyone that the man that left had been under Mr Lehnsherr's employment - a simple tutor, who sought employment elsewhere when his pupil was sent to school.

People forgot about the rumours after a short while, and Ironfield was left to weather and waste away as a cold and grey ruin. It was left this way for many years, and some people wondered if Mr Lehnsherr would ever return, but the years continued to pass and pass, and people eventually forgot about that too.

But then, a wealthy, handsome, kind and gentle man – a teacher – had come and rebuilt the estate, brick by brick, stone by stone, and had turned it into a school. While the school was named to take in 'gifted youngsters', everyone in the area knew that it was truly a school for orphans and underprivileged children. The school asked for no fees, and one would think that such a school would be horrible and mistreat its children, starving them because of a lack of funds. But if you ever saw a child from that school, they would say that they wished they could live there with their Professor X forever. Sometimes, they spoke of a quietly kind older gentleman that was Mr Xavier's dear old friend - one that was always by his side to help him when his leg ached during poor weather, and help push his chair when he was feeling ill. They just called him Mr L, like how they called the headmaster of the school 'Professor X'.

Chuck had always wanted to create a school to give children a chance to build a better life for themselves. Now, his dream had become a reality.

And all was peaceful.

Logan knocked on the school's front door, and was greeted by an older woman with brown hair and a kind and pretty face. A young man that looked to be about eighteen distracted the woman for a moment as he walked behind her. His pale blonde hair was messy, and his suit untidy and far too relaxed. The woman sighed at the young man that she called 'Peter' fondly, briefly chastising him for his appearance, before turning back to Logan, confusion on her features.

"Hello, Sir. Are you here to enrol a student?" the woman asked, and Logan snorted at the silly notion. The woman crinkled her nose at his unmannered response, but didn't say anything, just looking at him warily.

"I'm here to see Chuck," Logan said simply, the woman looking even more confused now, making Logan grin widely. "My sisters used to call him Professor X, but I suppose everyone calls him that now."

The woman's eyes widened, and things seemed to click in her mind.

"You're Logan. I mean, Mr Howlett," she said simply, Logan nodding.

"You got it. Now would you let me in? I'm already ten years late."

"I should have known it was you. He did say you were a rough kind of character," Moira said, Logan chuckling at the words, the woman relaxing once she discovered the identity of the sudden visitor.

Logan followed Moira down warmly-lit hallways before stopping by a set of double doors. Logan could hear two voices inside, both male, and he licked his lips.

He didn't wait for Moira to knock nor announce his presence, pushing the doors open with a loud bang, the two men inside the room turning to the sound.

Chuck sat there behind a desk, all blue eyes and brown hair, and another man sat atop it. Chuck's hands were resting on the man's thighs, whose own hands were reaching down to caress Chuck's face. The professor's eyes widened and his red lips opened to a shocked 'o', while the other man – who had to be the one and only Mr Erik Lehnsherr – turned with narrowed eyes that drifted aimlessly, unseeing but somehow still sharp and piercing.

"Logan," Charles called out, the gruff man taking two long strides over to the professor's desk, resting his hands on the edge to look at Charles.

Lehnsherr seemed to recognise Logan's name, and his mouth pulled back to reveal two white rows with too many teeth, challenging. Logan grinned right back, feeling like he was exactly where he was meant to be.

A/N: And that's it folks! Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed this little story :)