Captain America: Love in a Time of Loss

Bargaining

Sleep was a miserable thing for Kyle when it finally found him. Guilt over his outburst with Steve followed his every move. Ordinarily he could lose himself in his studies, if only for a little while. But even that couldn't stop his thoughts from circling back to his heated exchange with Steve.

"You were an asshole," he sighed aloud as he rubbed his eyes and closed his laptop. Steve had been trying to help. Whether that came from some hero complex or guilt over the failure to stop Thanos didn't really matter.

You're not angry at him. You're angry at the situation. You're angry at yourself.

That, Kyle knew, was exactly what Professor Xavier would say if he were talking to him now. And that was probably all very true. Kyle knew himself well enough to know that he could be a bit of a hot head. He knew that he could sometimes let passion lead the way rather than logic. For better or for worse. But tonight it had been for the worse.

As he settled into his bed and stared up at the ceiling, he kept seeing Steve's face in it. Those blue eyes, so earnest and sorrowful, seemed to haunt him. The memory of their conversation at the memorial generated a tug of war inside of him. Part of him longing for connection and community while another part resisted this. As he fell asleep, he told himself that Steve was likely correct when he said that people need each other. No But the other side of the coin told him that he'd been burned too many times.

The day he'd arrived at the mansion, he had no suitcase in hand. No personal belongings aside from the shirt on his back. He stared up at the stately mansion, awe stricken by how large and majestic it was. Then he looked down at his shabby clothes and immediately felt self conscious.

I don't belong here.

Yes you do, a voice spoke inside his head. You are just as deserving as anyone else.

He looked up at Xavier, who stood right beside him and the Professor smiled. "Forgive me," he said with a warm smile. "I don't use my power to pry. But I couldn't help but notice you're worry."

Kyle looked down at his shoes and shrugged his shoulders.

"Listen to me." Xavier knelt in front of him so that he had to meet his gaze. "This place can be a home for you. A place for you to feel safe. Everyone deserves to feel safe and welcome."

Kyle looked back up at the mansion, saw a figure spying through the curtains on the second story, and felt like he was underneath a microscope.

"No one is going to pass judgement over you, Kyle," Lensherr said from beside him.

Then, with Xavier and Lensherr on either side, Kyle walked up the steps and through the double doors. The great hall met them with its hardwood floor, ornate carpets, and lavish furnishings. As Kyle turned in a circle to take in the scale of the room, some teenagers began to walk down the steps and into the hall.

"Kyle. I want you to meet the other students who live here," Xavier said.

One by one, each of the students introduced themselves to Kyle.

Warren Worthington was the first to greet him. The boy was tall and blond with good looks and a clean cut appearance that made Kyle think of the wealthy children he'd seen in the city. The comparison between himself and Warren made Kyle feel nervous once again. But Warren's kindness and total absence of any judgement soothed this.

Before Kyle could wrap his head around being treated as an equal in the eyes of someone like Warren, a bulky boy with dark hair and glasses approached next and introduced himself as Hank McCoy. When Kyle shook hands with him he noticed that Hank's hand was considerably larger than his. Though he lived on the streets, Kyle knew it was impolite to stare, so he kept his eyes on Hank's.