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Watchers of a Different Kind

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Summary: AU Xavier watches over a new arrival with a mysterious past, only to be joined by Logan -- with comfort and information. Slight BtVS/X-Men Movieverse.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Marvel Universe > X-Men > GeneralarganteFR1311,915023,1426 Aug 046 Aug 04Yes
Watchers of a Different Kind
by argante

Pairing: Implied Xavier/OFC and Giles/OFC. Teensy bits of Logan/Marie and Jean/Scott.

Spoilers: Loosely set in the movie verse of X-Men and somewhere in the projected future seasons of BtVS. There’s not really anything in particular from either ‘verses that’s used.

Rated: PG-13

Warning: Character death.

Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine, not mine. All lyrics from Lisa Loeb.

Distribution: Show and tell! Show it on your site, just be sure to tell me.

Feedback: Always appreciated, just like chocolate.

~*~

truthfully i can't ignore you cause i've been waiting for you
truthfully i'm not desperate i haven't changed my mind
since we first met but the last thing that i want to do
is to tell you that i'm right for you

yes i’m complicated i know it's just my way
but if is a question that i ask and nothing more


When Ciara arrived, a little over four months ago, he had placed her in a room very near his own. At the time, his reasons had been unknown, even to himself. He hadn’t wanted to examine them too much, afraid that even his rather large capacity for analysis would fail to find the method in his madness. For madness was what it had to be; there was no fathomable reason why he had decided to roll his wheelchair to the doorway of her bedroom at two o’clock in the morning.

look in her bed and she's bound to be sleeping
she's lying there dead
no she's breathing


She was beautiful in sleep; so radiant she practically glowed. There was a serenity to her that wasn’t present during everyday life, and he basked in it while he could. Her long, wavy dark hair was splayed around her, providing a stark contrast to both the white of the bed linens and the paleness of her complexion. She sighed softly and turned over in her sleep, kicking the comforter down the bed. It was an unusually warm night for a Westchester spring, and she had chosen to sleep in a pair of tiny bed shorts and an oversized Oxford University shirt. It was the shirt that made him close his eyes, made him sigh as he leaned back in his chair. The shirt was very obviously a genuine shirt, from around the 70s, by the look of it. He knew for a fact that Ciara would have still been in high school in the 70s, and had never attended Oxford University anyway.

It was common knowledge amongst the staff, as well as some of the students, that Ciara had an entire collection of those types of shirts. They were never worn while she was working, and only very seldom on weekends, but he observed enough to know that she always wore them when she was alone in her room. At first, many of the other staff had commented on how, when they visited her room after hours, she was always dressed in a man’s shirt; in fact, all but Jean had commented. He had, over the years, learned that her telepathic ability was amplified when dealing with women, to the extent that she often knew things instantly, usually on sheer instinct, that he could barely fathom. And so her silence had spoken clearer, louder than her words ever could have, and he knew that Jean knew exactly why those shirts were so sacred to her. Knew beyond the realm of simple female intuition.

have you ever looked me in the eye?
have you ever told the truth?
come on don't lie
have you ever tried to know me better?
better than you do


Not that it took a genius to figure it out. Those shirts, combined with Ciara’s now obviously rounded belly, announced to the world that there was a man in her past. A man, he suspected, who would never fade from her memory.

“You know, hanging out in her doorway all the time really isn’t healthy.” He jumped at the voice, turning his head towards the person leaning against the doorframe beside him.

“Little off your game, aren’t you? Time was I couldn’t sneak up on you in the middle of a crowded room.”

“Logan, what are you doing still awake?” Xavier asked, his voice warning him not to press the subject. Logan, of course, completely ignored it.

with a smirk on your face and a gun at my head

“Couldn’t sleep. Went exploring. Apparently, I’m not the only one,” he said, self-satisfaction evident in his tone at having caught the Professor in such a potentially compromising position. Xavier sighed, knowing it was too much to hope that Logan would just leave it alone.

“Am I really that obvious?”

“You mean by sitting outside her door in the middle of the night? Oh no, not at all.” At the Professor’s look, he smirked, but continued.

“Well, I can tell, but that may just be my animal instincts. I know Jean knows, and I guess that means Scooter knows too. Marie thinks she knows, she was talking about it earlier tonight... and Storm’s always high-and-mighty with her I-know-all Goddess crap, so who knows about her. So, in general, I’d say yeh. You’re pretty obvious.” Xavier sighed at that, sinking low in his chair and placing his hand on the side of his head to prop it up. Logan was unnerved by such a hopeless gesture, and decided to have pity on the Professor. This was the most human he’d ever seen him before, and although it felt good to know the Professor was just human, like the rest of them, he remembered what it was like when his own feelings for Marie had kept him in limbo. So, his own experiences still fresh in his mind, he tried his best to tactfully ease the Professor’s worries, as hard as it was for him.

what you tried so hard to hide
it was there between the lines


“If it helps, I don’t think she’s noticed. Everyone’s being overly nice to her ‘cos of her, uh, situation. And she seems to be totally oblivious to any and all types of romantic or sexual... implications.” The Professor straightened himself at that, clearing his throat.

“Thank you Logan, but I assure you, your reassurances are not needed. It seems quite obvious that she is off limits to all bar one whom we know nothing of.” Logan nodded, casting his glance back to Ciara’s slumbering figure. He rolled the idea around his head before finally deciding to say something. He figured Xavier needed to put some substance to this shadow from her past, if only to help cement the fact that she was not... available.

“Well, not exactly nothing.” Xavier looked up at him at that, startled, and although he once again marvelled at how this tiny woman had obscured the Professor’s powers so much, Logan’s eyes never wavered from the bed. It was easier that way, to not have to see the hurt in his eyes.

“It’s no secret I have bouts of insomnia. Well, walking around always seems to calm me down at least a little, and I end up here a lot. Or pass by here. Or... well, I come by here a lot. And sometimes, I hear her calling out in her sleep. Nightmares."

“Familiar territory for you, I’m sure.”

“Yeh. When she’s having the nightmares, she calls out-” He stopped abruptly as, before their eyes, Ciara began to toss and turn restlessly, whimpering in her sleep. Her whimpers grew louder, until they had soon escalated into sobs and screams.

cause i had some things so dear slip away
and leave me here
and i'm barely balancing as it is
and i don't want to drown in my dreams


“No! No, Rupert, no! You, you can’t leave me here! You’ll be fine, it’ll all be fine, you’ll see! Please God no, not Rupert! Not Rupert!” she chanted, over and over like a mantra. She was crying now, too, her voice escalating in desperation, and there were babbled words in a foreign tongue they couldn’t recognise being inserted around the English. Xavier was shocked at how quickly her peaceful rest had been disturbed.

“Like that?” he said, tearing his eyes from her writhing figure to look at Logan.

“Yeh,” he answered quietly. “Just like that. Although sometimes, it’s all... whatever the hell language that is. Sometimes she calls out for help -- it’s what first brought me over here, her yelling for help -- or other people’s names... but it’s always about Rupert.”

“So he has a name. He is, at least, somewhat real now.” And that was that. No more words were exchanged between the two men, nothing more explained or reasoned or apologised for. They just stayed there in the doorway, watching over her until her nightmares had faded and she slept peacefully again.

~*~

waiting for Wednesday
my stomach doesn't hurt enough
pain always is the sign


“It’s a boy,” Logan said quietly as he entered Professor Xavier’s office. He stood just inside the door, watching the man who was gazing silently out the window.

“I know,” was the whispered answer. “That was quite a lengthy labour. She was in a lot of pain; I could feel it from here. Jean was her midwife, yes?”

“Yeh. Probably not the best choice, with her powers. She... she almost passed out when the baby crowned, so I hear. Marie said you could practically see the pain radiating out from the both of them in waves.”

“She is...”

“In the infirmary. There were a couple of small problems, but nothing some stitches and a blood transfusion won’t fix.” Logan watched the back of Xavier’s head pitch forward then back as he nodded.

“His name…”

“Aonghus Rupert Giles.”

“Ahh. Irish, then. I thought so, with a name like Ciara, but you can never tell.” The Professor swivelled his chair around to face Logan at that, his face an unreadable mask. Logan simply stayed standing in the same spot, unsure of what to do.

“It seems he now has a full name then, doesn’t it?” Xavier said, in what Logan recognised as a failed attempt at levity. He ignored it, going for what he knew was the crux of the matter.

“Her... friends, from California. They want to take her home with them.” Xavier’s eyes flashed, too fast for Logan to register the emotions, before the mask resumed its place.

“Yes, I know. The blonde has already come to see me. I... couldn’t help but ask about this ‘Rupert’, and... although she was reluctant, she did talk with me about him.” Logan said nothing in return, just waited for it. Xavier was always supporting them, and while he thought himself a strange choice for a confidante, now it was his turn to support Xavier.

you're a hurricane
you will heal my heart up?
no, i will heal my own heart up, because you are
hurting


“He was her husband, and he was a Watcher. The blonde’s Watcher, more specifically. Ciara, as we know, is psychic, but apparently she’s also a witch of significant power. As I understand, they were fighting the final End of Days not long before she arrived here, and her husband, Rupert Giles, was killed in battle. However, he rose the following night as a vampire, and came after her and their unborn child almost immediately. She was, it seems, forced to kill him, and then she ran, abandoned the town without telling anyone else.” Silence greeted the end of his tale, and Xavier turned back to the window to prevent Logan from seeing his silent tears.

the soul of witchery
you're not running away
you're not running are you?


“Do you think...?”

“I don’t know Logan. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

don't want to show you good bye
show you good bye
what will i do when you come near to me?

The End

You have reached the end of "Watchers of a Different Kind". This story is complete.

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