What Logan knew about Ben was only limited by either man’s tendency to keep others at a distance. He was watchful of all the kids in this place of course, to the degree that he deserved to be, but he also knew they had enough keepers here that some of them were thankful to know at least one member of the so-called faculty might keep their secrets and give them space. For a moment he could only put a face to the name Klaus. Hargreeves, he thought again as he remembered their story. Collected by some eccentric old billionaire. The other ones were noisier than Ben. Klaus especially. They drew more attention to themselves. Got up to more trouble. But they stuck by each other like family. So why was Ben hiding himself out here.
He blinked lazily through the fog of that new eye, but the other one looked Ben over more closely now that his thoughts didn’t have to rise through the haze of pain and discomfort. Why the younger man was out here in the first place couldn’t be discerned from his dress or what he’d been up to when Logan came lumbering in. “Something go wrong, Ben?” He asked, careful in his language not to assign blame. If the younger man was hiding something, or hiding from something out here, he had to trust someone if it could be set to right. “Maybe you’re just out here cause you like the smell of white pine, but I can’t help feelin’ like you’re out here hiding from something.”
Family was great, and in a place like Xavier's Ben knew that having any family at all meant a lot more than it usually did, but even family wasn't always what you wanted. Ben was an introvert, and while his siblings knew that and tried to respect him they often ended up overwhelming him with their own issues and arguments.
The shift in Logan's tone was noticeable enough to force Ben's lips up into a weak smile. It was always fun to watch the gruff older man slip into his role as a teacher and mentor - it suited him better than he probably realized. Ben had been observing Logan from afar long enough to know that he would never push too hard for an answer. For some reason, that made Ben even more eager to tell him the truth.
"Not really," he replied, shaking his head. He opened his mouth to speak again, but quickly closed it and ducked his head, heat rising to his cheeks as he thought about what he was about to say.
"I just... like it here," he finished finally, his tone indicating that what he'd said was close to the truth but wasn't quite the entire reason.
He did try his best with the kids. Logan would never have admitted that for fear of falling so painfully far short of what they deserved. It was easier to say he didn’t try at all. At least that way no one was disappointed when Logan, by his mere existence in this place, unraveled their carefully laid lessons. He never sold himself as anything more than he was at his worst. Despite that, anyone looking close enough could see the way he searched for something softer in himself with the students at Xaviers. Resuscitating some haggard sense of optimism to give these kids the kind of strength they could use.
When Ben smiled even faintly, that concern would start to erode. The smile on his own weathered face was made of as much menace as understanding and he stepped up close enough to Ben to crowd his personal space. “I’ll take your word for it,” it was all but a whispered. “But lie to me now, and if they tell me tomorrow some mutant octopus tore up the library I won’t think twice about turnin’ you in, bub.” Warning was it might have been, there was too much levity there to carry the weight of honest intimidation.
When he thought Ben might blush under his scrutiny he breezed passed the boy, grazing his shoulder and making for the fridge where the beer was in no short supply.
“You just like it here,” he sighed like he didn’t believe it. Like he knew there was more under those words, he just couldn’t see to the bottom of the well they covered. “What do you like, Benny? The mouse problem? The pinging in the pipes? The leaky shingles?” He smiled knowingly and halted the hand that reached out to Ben with a beer. “How old are you?” he asked.
The teachers here were great, but they were all very... grown-up. Very responsible. Very determined to make sure the kids obeyed the rules and didn't push any boundaries. Ben understood why, of course - having superpowered children running around made for a dangerous enough life as it was - but that didn't mean he ached for something different, for just one person who would let him live outside the lines once in a while.
Logan was different. He was kind in his own way, but he was also unapologetic about how he lived. Just the fact that he stayed in his own place, away from the main school building, made him instantly more mysterious, and Ben loved mysteries. It also made him a little more frightening, but even that wasn't enough to keep Ben away.
When Logan suddenly closed the distance between them Ben felt his breath stop and his eyes go wide - but the words that actually came out of Logan's mouth left him laughing weakly, relief washing over him.
"I promise I didn't break anything," he replied, relaxing a little more now that he knew he wasn't going to get kicked out.
Logan's description of the cabin made him laugh again, his eyes crinkling up at the corners a little. He was about to reach for the beer when Logan asked about his age, and for a second he thought about lying.
Logan would know, though. Ben was sure about that. Somehow, he had a knack for sniffing out the truth.
"I'm nineteen," he confessed, his eyes glued to Logan's face, wondering how he'd react. He was a teacher, but he didn't exactly identify as a teacher on most occasions, right? How far did that sense of responsibility stretch?
He sighed a little sigh of disappointment when Ben uttered nineteen. But judging by the amused look on his face it was hard to blame the young man for being honest.
“That’s old enough where I’m from,” he said with a shrug. It was a risk that was apt to come back and bite him more than Ben, he knew, but Logan had never feared authority. Least of all when a little bending of the rules might do someone else some good. That was the different between him and Scott. His responsibility to others was not a set of rules to be followed. It was a negotiation between individuals. When Ben’s hand closed around the other end of that can Logan didn’t yet let go. “If you’re gonna come out here and drink my beer though, you better do me the courtesy of tellin’ me what you’re running from. Or to.”
Beer was probably not the answer to whatever drove Ben out here of course. But if Logan was going to inspire any honesty in the boy, he imagined he’d have to prove he was worthy of trust in the first place. His own can of something called Boneshaker opened with a crack and a hiss as he leaned on the counter and rattled a box of stale crackers only to be disappointed by the sad sound of crumbs alone.
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He blinked lazily through the fog of that new eye, but the other one looked Ben over more closely now that his thoughts didn’t have to rise through the haze of pain and discomfort. Why the younger man was out here in the first place couldn’t be discerned from his dress or what he’d been up to when Logan came lumbering in. “Something go wrong, Ben?” He asked, careful in his language not to assign blame. If the younger man was hiding something, or hiding from something out here, he had to trust someone if it could be set to right. “Maybe you’re just out here cause you like the smell of white pine, but I can’t help feelin’ like you’re out here hiding from something.”
no subject
The shift in Logan's tone was noticeable enough to force Ben's lips up into a weak smile. It was always fun to watch the gruff older man slip into his role as a teacher and mentor - it suited him better than he probably realized. Ben had been observing Logan from afar long enough to know that he would never push too hard for an answer. For some reason, that made Ben even more eager to tell him the truth.
"Not really," he replied, shaking his head. He opened his mouth to speak again, but quickly closed it and ducked his head, heat rising to his cheeks as he thought about what he was about to say.
"I just... like it here," he finished finally, his tone indicating that what he'd said was close to the truth but wasn't quite the entire reason.
no subject
When Ben smiled even faintly, that concern would start to erode. The smile on his own weathered face was made of as much menace as understanding and he stepped up close enough to Ben to crowd his personal space. “I’ll take your word for it,” it was all but a whispered. “But lie to me now, and if they tell me tomorrow some mutant octopus tore up the library I won’t think twice about turnin’ you in, bub.” Warning was it might have been, there was too much levity there to carry the weight of honest intimidation.
When he thought Ben might blush under his scrutiny he breezed passed the boy, grazing his shoulder and making for the fridge where the beer was in no short supply.
“You just like it here,” he sighed like he didn’t believe it. Like he knew there was more under those words, he just couldn’t see to the bottom of the well they covered. “What do you like, Benny? The mouse problem? The pinging in the pipes? The leaky shingles?” He smiled knowingly and halted the hand that reached out to Ben with a beer. “How old are you?” he asked.
no subject
Logan was different. He was kind in his own way, but he was also unapologetic about how he lived. Just the fact that he stayed in his own place, away from the main school building, made him instantly more mysterious, and Ben loved mysteries. It also made him a little more frightening, but even that wasn't enough to keep Ben away.
When Logan suddenly closed the distance between them Ben felt his breath stop and his eyes go wide - but the words that actually came out of Logan's mouth left him laughing weakly, relief washing over him.
"I promise I didn't break anything," he replied, relaxing a little more now that he knew he wasn't going to get kicked out.
Logan's description of the cabin made him laugh again, his eyes crinkling up at the corners a little. He was about to reach for the beer when Logan asked about his age, and for a second he thought about lying.
Logan would know, though. Ben was sure about that. Somehow, he had a knack for sniffing out the truth.
"I'm nineteen," he confessed, his eyes glued to Logan's face, wondering how he'd react. He was a teacher, but he didn't exactly identify as a teacher on most occasions, right? How far did that sense of responsibility stretch?
no subject
“That’s old enough where I’m from,” he said with a shrug. It was a risk that was apt to come back and bite him more than Ben, he knew, but Logan had never feared authority. Least of all when a little bending of the rules might do someone else some good. That was the different between him and Scott. His responsibility to others was not a set of rules to be followed. It was a negotiation between individuals. When Ben’s hand closed around the other end of that can Logan didn’t yet let go. “If you’re gonna come out here and drink my beer though, you better do me the courtesy of tellin’ me what you’re running from. Or to.”
Beer was probably not the answer to whatever drove Ben out here of course. But if Logan was going to inspire any honesty in the boy, he imagined he’d have to prove he was worthy of trust in the first place. His own can of something called Boneshaker opened with a crack and a hiss as he leaned on the counter and rattled a box of stale crackers only to be disappointed by the sad sound of crumbs alone.