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Logan never imagined he’d be searching for mutants in Germany, but here he was.
The day had been spent in a flurry of half-hearted tourism. At bars, mostly, drinking authentic German beer until his head felt a little fuzzy. The yellow lights, strung up among a huge circus tent, now blur from the haze of leftover alcohol.
Logan trudges through the crowds, heading for the entrance of the big red and yellow tent. He’s a little disoriented from the chatter and laughter that surround him.
He snags a bag of popcorn before finding a seat. He chooses a place in the very front row, where he’ll be able to closely observe every performer as they take the stage.
He just hopes it’s not the fortune teller. There are enough psychics on the team with Jean and the Professor.
A child takes the seat next to him, looking up at him curiously in that way that kids do.
“The freaks are that way, kid.”
The mother looks at him strangely, placing a hand on her kid’s shoulder. The kid just giggles. He grins back, sharp toothed.
The lights dim, and a spotlight flicks on. A fog machine clicks and begins spewing steam, and with all the grandeur expected, the ringmaster throws his arms wide open. He begins a spiel in English about how amazing the experience will be, and about how great he is to have amassed all these curious people. Logan gives the air a sniff, as if he’ll be able to tell whether the man is mutant from scent alone.
He can’t, but it’s worth a shot.
The ringmaster introduces the first act, a contortionist who manages to squeeze herself between the legs of a tiny stool, her head sticking out the bottom. It’s impressive, but not outside the realm of ordinary people. Next come the trapeze artists, swinging athletically from astonishing heights.
Not what he’s looking for.
Logan almost walks out when the clowns come on, riding unicycles and acting like fools. He crosses his arms, unimpressed. The child beside him mimics his posture, hiding giggles behind his hand.
The clowns retreat, and a horde of exotic animals enters, doing tricks as directed by whip-wielding trainers. Logan begins to get nauseous when the stench of the animals mixes with the smell of people and cotton candy and artificial popcorn butter. When the poor animals are finally allowed to leave, the lights go out again.
The ringmaster returns to his place in the middle and directs a cocky smirk toward the crowd.
“Who’s enjoying the show,” he asks. His German accent is almost unnoticeable beneath a posh British affectation. The crowd roars. Logan rolls his eyes at the display. The ringmaster raises his hand and the crowd quietens. “But we all know…what you have truly come for.” He grins, eyes glistening in the torchlight.
Logan has a feeling this is what he came for.
Suddenly, the ringmaster throws his arms out and bellows. “What did you come for!”
Nightcrawler, the crowd responds, taking up a chant that nearly deafens Logan. The child beside him practically quivers with excitement, leaning forward in his seat.
“Nightcrawler,” the ringmaster repeats after a full thirty seconds of this chanting. He sweeps his arms behind him, gesturing toward the entrance all of the performers had arrived from. A cage is wheeled into the circle, a spotlight following its path. Logan feels a bundle of nerves tighten in his stomach.
Logan squints. There’s a flicker of yellow among the dark mass.
And then there’s a flash, and the smell of sulfur.
The Nightcrawler lands atop its cage, head swiveling wildly. Logan’s stomach drops.
There’s his mutant.
The man is blue and furry, with a spiked tail that swishes behind him wildly. The yellow had come from his eyes, which glimmer faintly in the spotlight. He wears nothing but a pair of ratty shorts, and Logan feels angry on his behalf.
The crowd is hushed as they observe the man, who shuffles nervously atop the cage. The ringmaster gestures, and there’s another puff of smoke and wave of sulfur. The man appears again halfway across the circle.
The child sitting in the seat next to Logan’s leans into his mother’s side, the stench of fear on him.
“No need to be afraid,” the ringmaster says. “The creature is harmless, and well trained. Witness him!”
At that, the man does a series of teleportations, jumping from platform to platform. A band plays whimsical music. The ringmaster babbles on and on, insulting things that Logan doesn’t care to hear. The man teleports right in front of Logan, and the Wolverine lunges forward, catching eyes with the mutant. The yellow eyes flash in fear, and he’s gone before Logan’s hand can grasp flesh.
He teleports straight back into his cage. The ringmaster seems to not have expected this, as he spends a moment looking for the man before locating him, huddled in his cage. A nasty expression crosses his face as the music fizzles out confusedly; an abrupt and unplanned end to the Nightcrawler’s section of the performance. When he turns back to the crowd, the expression is gone.
The cage is wheeled away, and a troupe of dancers hurry to enter before their cue was meant to come.
Logan hustles outside, ignoring the disturbed grunts of people whose vision he blocks as he squeezes his way through the seats. He bursts out of the tent, blinking to adjust his eyes to the dark. He sniffs, searching for the scent of sulfur that must cling to the mutant.
He pushes past a wandering pair of performers, rounding the tent to the back.
He closes his eyes, sniffing his way through a bunch of animal cages.
He stops in front of the one he wants, one maybe a foot shorter than him with bars just thicker than his thumb. He crouches down in front of it.
Those yellow eyes whip towards him and stare.
And this close, Logan can tell it isn’t a man at all, but a boy. The night air is warm, thankfully, but the boy still shivers slightly. Whether he’s afraid of Logan or afraid in general, Logan can’t be sure.
He snarls, popping his claws with a shing. He slices through the bars like butter, and the boy inside hardly does anything but cower against the other side.
“Nein, nein,” he mumbles, squeezing his eyes shut. “Tun sie mir nicht weh!”
Logan sheathes his claws, wiping his bloodied knuckles against his jacket. “Hey, kid,” he says, leaning down inside the cage. “‘S alright.”
The boy opens his eyes again, looking Logan up and down.
“You speak English?”
The boy hesitates, and then says, “Do - do not hurt me!” That’s conformation enough for the Wolverine. A wave of sympathy crushes him.
“I won’t,” he assures softly. “I’m Logan. What’s your name?”
A pause. And then “Kurt. Wagner.”
Logan nods. “I want to get you out of here, Kurt. Understand?”
The boy looks behind Logan, considering the circus tent. He turns his head to the side, as if to shake it ‘no.’
“Come with me,” Logan says. “I promise you won’t regret it.”
Kurt reaches forward, shaking considerably, and clasps his hand.
Logan smiles.
~ ~ ~
Rogue had only recently joined the X-Men, after that disastrous field trip with Mystique, when Professor Xavier announced that another would be joining their little family.
She’s buttering a piece of toast for breakfast when the topic is broached. The sun is shining through the window right into her eyes, so she can’t see the Professor’s expressions at all. A surge of annoyance overcomes her, and she can’t really explain why. She focuses on the crunch of her toast between her teeth.
“Is it someone from school,” Evan asks, his eyebrow raised. It’s reminiscent of the way Miss Ororo does it, and Rogue is reminded once again of their familial connection.
“No,” the Professor says. “He’s coming all the way from Germany.”
Scott raises his eyebrows. “Wow.”
“Indeed. I regret that I had so little time to prepare you all, but he will be arriving this evening and I expect you all to give him a warm welcome.”
“This evening,” Kitty exclaims at the same time that Jean says “of course, Professor.” They look at eachother. Jean frowns at Kitty, who pouts but doesn’t say anything else.
“Who’ll he be staying with,” Evan asks, side eyeing Scott. After Kitty and Rogue had been shoved together, there’s no doubt he’s wondering which one of them will have to share.
Xavier hums. He’s obviously thought this through already. “The nature of his power suggests he should have his own room. But he is, after all, on probation. If this doesn’t work out…” He trails off, but Rogue understands the implication. If it doesn’t work out, he’ll have to leave. Back to his parents, or wherever they’d dug him up from.
“You mean you haven’t vetted him,” Scott asks seriously.
The Professor shrugs, a smile on his mouth. “Simply wasn’t the time. These were exigent circumstances.”
Scott nods, but it’s hesitant. Rogue furrows her brows.
Breakfast ends, and she retreats to her room with all the speed and grace of a freight train. Despite the welcoming she’d received, the warm atmosphere too, she simply can’t get comfortable.
A part of her misses her foster mother, despite knowing that she’d been working with Mystique.
She slams the door to her room behind her and throws herself onto her bed. She busies herself with homework until that grows boring, and then paints her nails black. She roots around in her desk, searching for the purple shimmery top coat she’d wanted, but quickly discovers it isn’t where she’d placed it.
“Kitty,” she growls.
She stomps out of their shared room, hands balled into fists. “Kitty,” she yells through the halls.
The sound of laughter draws her to the common room, where all four of her classmates - housemates - teammates are lounging, squished together, on the couch. Scott has an arm around the top of the couch, looking like he’d like to have that arm around Jean who’s sitting beside him. Evan and Kitty are squished together, elbows knocking as they compete against each other in some racing game she’s never heard of before.
There’s no room for her on that coach, and even if there was, she couldn’t risk being so close to them, skin to skin.
She turns back around, dismissing the nail polish. She’ll confront Kitty later. Disrupting their fun wouldn’t do her any favors.
Right now, she needs some fresh air.
She walks to the gardens, because if she’s living in a place wealthy enough to have gardens she’s going to utilize them. She lays down under a tree and takes off the mesh part of her top so the sun will hit her skin. She squints up into the clouds until the sun gets too bothersome and instead closes her eyes, breathing in the fresh grassy scent.
She wonders if the Brotherhood would’ve been any different. Maybe they were already too much of a team for her as well. Maybe nothing will ever change.
She drifts away for a bit, in and out of awareness as the sun heats her skin. Then the sound of a an engine hits her ears.
The Blackbird.
She opens her eyes. The jet casts her in shadow as it passes, lowering carefully into the hangar. She pushes herself up. This must be the new kid.
She retrieves her top, throwing it back on as she walks back to the house. She’s still a little sleepy, but nevermind that.
She passes the common room on her way to the hangar. None of them have made a move. They probably didn’t hear the jet over their laughter, she thinks, and doesn’t bother to alert them.
Her footsteps begin to clang as the floor changes from wood to metal, and the voices of Ororo and the Professor drift through the echoey halls. Finally, she reaches the wide entrance to the hangar, pausing there.
Is she meant to be there?
Ororo catches sight of her, a soft smile gracing her features. “Rogue. Come on over and introduce yourself,” she gestures with her arm.
Rogue walks in, crossing her arms together.
She can’t actually see the new kid, since he’s draped in a trenchcoat about three times his size. He’s even got a shady fedora to top it all off. He stands slightly behind Logan.
She clears her throat. “Um. I’m Rogue.” She holds her hand out for him to take, waiting for several moments for him to reciprocate.
He does, eventually, oh-so-slowly creeping away from Logan and towards her. She doesn’t even look at his hand, trying to get a peek at his face behind the dark shadows, although it feels strange in her gloved fingers. She releases the handshake, then. “What’s your name?”
“I…am Kurt.”
Rogue smiles, crossing her arms again. “Well, it’s nice to meet you. It’s nice not to be the new girl.”
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps and chatter float through the doorway, and Rogue finds herself resenting it. Kurt skitters back to his place behind Logan.
The others enter, led by Scott. He smiles genially, offering his hand as Rogue had. “I’m Scott, it’s nice to meet you.”
“I am Kurt,” the boy answers, but he doesn’t come back out from his hiding spot. Scott lets his hand fall away.
Charles clears his throat. “Kurt. This is Jean, Kitty, and Ororo’s nephew Evan.”
“What’s with the ‘fit,” Evan asks, rather egregiously. Rogue practically feels her eyebrow twitch.
Xavier answers for the boy. “Kurt’s mutation is rather visible, and it was easier not to run the risk of becoming a spectacle, this way. However,” he turns to Kurt here, his wheelchair whirring as he does. “You are free to remove your coat now, Kurt.”
The boy looks up at Logan. Logan nods.
Kurt sheds the coat, smiling with sharp teeth.
Rogue feels her eyebrows raise in surprise.
He’s wearing a red t-shirt and khaki shorts.
He’s also furry and blue.
“Woah,” Kitty says. “He’s like, freaky scary!”
Kurt’s smile drops, and just before Rogue can round on Kitty and yell at the girl, there’s a puff of smoke in her face. Jean yelps, and a rotten sort of smell permeates the air.
Logan swipes a hand across his forehead as if to stave off a headache. “Nice going, half pint.”
“What was that,” Scott asks, hand on his glasses.
Ororo looks around, eyebrows furrowed. “Kurt’s main ability; teleportation.”
Evan elbowed Kitty. “You scared him away!”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Kitty says, a panicked look on her face.
“It’s alright,” Jean says, a comforting hand on Kitty’s shoulder.
Logan pushes Scott away so he can stand in front of Jean. “Can you find him?”
Jean nods. “I can try.” Her hands go to her temple. Rogue shuffles toward the door. Jean’s face contorts as she uses her powers. “Ah,” she says finally. “He’s outside!”
“I can get him,” Rogue says. Everyone looks at her, expressions of surprise and consideration staring at her. She feels her cheeks warm and her resolve weaken, but she doesn’t take back the offer.
Logan looks at Charles, communicating something with his eyes. He shrugs.
Charles nods, after a moment. “Be gentle, Rogue.”
She nods.
She pretends she doesn’t hear Jean as she leaves, asking. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
Once she’s out of the hangar, Rogue breaks into a jog. She isn’t sure how dire the situation is, but she doesn’t want to be the one responsible for losing the new kid. She exits out the back door, following the wall around to the side. She scans the gardens, but he doesn’t seem to be there. She walks down to the tree line, peeking into the forest that surrounds the Institute.
“Kurt,” she calls experimentally.
She almost jumps when she spots a pair of yellow eyes looking at her.
He’s in a tree, crouched on a branch. His feet look strange, she notices, and then looks back up at his face.
“Oh,” she says, breathing deep to calm her racing heart. “There you are. Are you alright?”
Kurt swings down, plopping into the grass. He frowns, a sorrowful expression that Rogue isn’t sure what to do with. “Logan lied,” he says. He curls up, back against the trunk of the tree. “None of you are like me.”
Rogue sits down as well. A stick pokes into her leg, and she shifts to get more comfortable. “Well. We don’t look like you. But I’m not exactly normal either.”
Kurt tilts his head, one elongated ear twitching. “What do you mean?”
Rogue sighs, closing her eyes as she leans her head back. “When I touch people, I get their powers and memories. But they also pass out. It’s not too fun.”
Kurt’s eyes widen sympathetically. “Oh! That does not sound fun. What about…the mean one?”
Rogue huffs a laugh. “Kitty? She can walk through walls. But she’s not too good at controlling it right now.” Rogue frowns, feeling like maybe she should defend her roommate. “And - she didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. She can just be inconsiderate sometimes, and we didn’t know what to expect when you came. But she really is nice.”
Kurt blinks, and then a smile overtakes his face. “You sound like a movie.”
Rogue furrows her brows. “What do you mean?”
“Your accent,” he says, trying to mimic her southern drawl and failing miserably.
Rogue bursts out a sharp laugh, incredulous. “Well I could say the same for you, Hansel!”
Kurt giggles, an inexperienced sort of sound.
Rogue sighs, a grin stuck on her face. “Why don’t we go inside and get a snack?”
“A snack? Food?”
“Uh-huh. What do you like?”
Kurt blinks at her.
“Like, what kind of food do you want?”
Kurt’s eyebrows furrow. “I do not understand.”
Rogue rolls her eyes. “Nevermind. Just follow me.”
She stands up. Kurt follows. She leads him back into the mansion and into the kitchen. He waits in the doorway, looking around as if he’s never been in a kitchen before. To be fair, Rogue had probably looked the same. Something about being in a millionaire’s kitchen is simply different.
“We’ve got chips and soda, but if you want something a little healthier, we’ve got about every kind of fruit you can imagine. You ever tried pomegranate?”
Kurt shakes his head no.
“Me neither. But Jean loves ‘em.”
Kurt hums. He pads further into the kitchen, peeking over Rogue’s shoulder. “Can I have an apple?”
Rogue shrugs. “Sure.” She grabs one from the bowl on the kitchen counter and tosses it to him. He catches it easily.
Rogue procures herself an orange, just for something to do.
They sit together at the marble island on stools. After Kurt’s already taken a few bites, a worried sort of look crosses his features, and he pauses. “Am I allowed?”
Rogue is confused for a moment before she understands what he must mean. “Oh. Yeah, Xavier doesn’t have any rules about snacks before dinner. My mom did, but she was always kinda strict.”
Kurt doesn’t look convinced, but he finishes the apple anyways, picking around the seeds just to get more meat out of it.
“There you are,” Logan says, appearing in the doorway. Rogue’s never heard him sound so relieved. He takes a moment, looking at Rogue with a calculating expression, before turning his gaze back to Kurt. “Do you want to see your room?”
Kurt looks at Rogue. She shrugs.
He nods. Logan leads him away.
And Rogue is left alone, picking at her orange.
~ ~ ~
“So he was at the circus,” Charles says. The kids have all gone to bed, which means it’s finally time for the adults to talk.
“Yeah,” Logan confirms. “Kept in a cage. I haven’t asked if that’s where he is the whole time, or how he got there or anything. I know as much as you.”
“Poor child,” Ororo says, frowning.
“Indeed,” Charles agrees.
Logan nods. “Oh. He’s sixteen. I know that, ‘cause I asked. I also tried to ask about parents, but,” he shrugs. “He either didn’t understand me or didn’t wanna answer.”
Ororo hums. “Does he know much English?”
Charles nods. “He understands. From what I saw on a surface level,” he gestures up to his head, “he was raised on English just as much as German.”
Ororo types something down, beginning a file for Kurt as a student of the Institute. “There’s a lot to work through. Finding any records of his, if they exist, determining his mental and physical health, what all his abilities are. Tracking down any family. Determining whether we should enroll him in school.”
“And there’s time for that later,” Charles says, placing a hand on Ororo’s knee. “The utmost priority is his health. We’ll get him in the infirmary for a check over tomorrow.”
Logan sighs. “I’m worried about this, Chuck. We’ve never taken in someone quite like him before.”
Charles shakes his head. “You were not here when I first took in Scott. He was much like Kurt is now. It is possible for him to heal, Logan; it will just take time.”
~ ~ ~
Rogue likes the danger room. It’s like VR, except with high stakes.
Her powers don’t exactly work on the simulations yet, since the Professor hasn’t had the time to program in the correct responses. And she can’t really absorb anything from a piece of metal. But her martial arts skills seem more useful to her anyways, and she likes the way she feels dodging between sawblades.
So she’s actually excited when Scott says they're running a simulation.
They’re introducing Kurt.
She sees him and Logan watching from the little glass sphere, until the holograms cover it up and she’s looking at a brick building. For the purposes of this exercise, they’re breaking into a maximum security prison. She pretends they’re breaking in to leave Mystique in a cell, and that motivates her enough to get her into it.
She kicks a simulated prison guard in the head and wonders how it feels so real. She almost feels bad for the fake man, before remembering that he is, in fact, fake.
“I’ve entered through the South Wing,” Jean says through their mental link. “I’m making my way to security, I’ll try to dismantle the alarms.”
Scott says something, but Rogue is distracted as she tries to pick the lock on the roof’s door.
She cries out as a hand grabs her wrist, spinning around to confront the simulated guard, and then -
Bamf!
Kurt drops right on top of the man, waves at Rogue with a grin, and then teleports away again. Rogue looks at where the observation deck would be, shaking her head. “Thanks Kurt,” she says, slightly sardonically. She is meant to be doing this herself, after all. But she does appreciate being saved the embarrassment.
Kitty's voice echoes in Rogue’s head. “I'm in too. But I like, fell down to the basement or something, and I can't find a door!”
Scott answers. “Okay, stay where you are. Jean, can you-”
“Um. Nevermind,” Kitty says, confusion in her voice. “Kurt got me out.”
There's silence for a second, and then Scott again. “Kurt's in here,” he asks, his voice carefully measured.
Rogue winces. That doesn't sound like a happy sort of tone.
“Focus,” Jean says. “Rogue, what's your location?”
She finally manages to pick the lock on the door just as she goes to answer. “I'm entering from the roof. Can you sense anyone I should be aware of?”
Rogue bounds down stairs two at a time, taking care to be quiet. When she reaches the bottom and there's still no answer, she tries again. “Jean?”
“Rogue,” Jean asks, as if she hadn’t heard the girl. Rogue shakes her head confusedly - bad connection? - she thinks, before remembering they’re speaking through their minds.
She waits a total of thirty seconds before forging ahead. If Jean won't help, she can do it herself.
She isn't totally sure what the goal of this simulation is, so she just weaves her way through halls, past simulated prison cells with sleeping prisoners inside. She ducks behind a wall when she spots a lone guard, waiting until he's turned away to continue down the hallway.
She hasn't even figured out what she's meant to be doing when the simulation ends.
She blinks, adjusting to the now-white walls. Everyone else does the same, looking around at each other in confusion.
Kurt's in the middle, holding a white flag. He drops it like it's on fire. “I broke it,” he exclaims in a panic, and teleports away.
Kitty and Evan burst into laughter.
Scott facepalms.
Rogue smiles and shakes her head, exiting the danger room. Now that the action's over, she needs to get out of this uniform before she sweats herself to death.
She takes a shower for good measure, dressing in her pajamas afterwards. She finishes all the homework she hadn’t gotten to the night before, and meets everyone for dinner in high spirits. Kurt is sitting where Evan normally would, through no fault of his own, so everyone on Rogues side of the table - really just her and Evan - are scooted down one. Rogue takes her seat and begins filling her plate with ham and green beans. “Pass the bread,” she asks Evan, who does so.
Then she listens to the various conversations across the table. Naturally, everyone's jumping to talk to Kurt.
“So, where'd you live before this,” Jean asks nicely.
“Munich,” Kurt says, his mouth full.
“Oh, is it nice there?”
Kurt shrugs. “Not really.”
“Oh.”
Kitty and Evan look at each other and giggle. They seem to be getting a kick out of Kurt's behaviors.
“What do your parents think of you coming here,” Evan asks. Kurt tilts his head.
Before he can answer, the Professor interrupts. “What did you think of the training simulation, Kurt?”
His eyes widen, and he clasps his hands together. “Oh, it was Wunderbar! I understand now,” he says, retrieving his fork and taking a bite of mashed potatoes.
Logan furrows his brows. “Understand what?”
“Why you are giving me so much stuff,” Kurt says excitedly. “Where I come from, the performance was easy, so I did not get much stuff. Here, the performance is dangerous, so I get more stuff! Because I might get hurt!”
Rogue exchanges a glance with her teammates. That doesn't sound right, but she doesn't completely understand what he means. There’s a pinched look on Scott’s face that suggests that he does.
The adults however, have more serious expressions on their faces.
“Ah,” Ororo starts, looking sad. “That is not what that was, Kurt.”
“Then what -”
“I'll explain later,” Logan says, ending the conversation.
Kurt sinks into his chair. He looks at Rogue, as if she can save him from whatever’s going on in his head.
She wishes she could.
Scott places his fork on the table. He seems to have mustered up the courage to say something he’s been thinking for a minute. “You shouldn’t jump in like that, by the way,” he says to Kurt. “We’re supposed to go in blind, you’d been watching from the observation deck. It wasn’t the point of the simulation.”
Kurt just looks miserable, at that.
Rogue pushes some green beans around on her plate. “Forget that,” she says. “Before it shut down, why didn’t any of you answer me? I asked a question and none of you said anything!”
Jean furrows her brows. “I didn’t - I didn’t hear you.”
Rogue looks at her plate uncomfortably. “What does that mean,” she mumbles.
“I -” Jean shakes her head. “Maybe the connection just isn’t as strong? I thought I linked us all - you heard us, right?”
Rogue nods and then sighs. “Nevermind. It doesn’t matter.”
Ororo looks between the students, probably debating whether she should jump in.
Xavier does it instead. “There are many adjustments to be made. I am glad there’s open communication.”
He frames it like a good thing, but Rogue doesn’t feel too good about it.
“Scott,” Jean says, gently redirecting the conversation. “I need some help with my math homework later, you have some time?”
Rogue rolls her eyes. Jean is good at math.
Scott nods distractedly. “Uh. I don’t know, I’m…busy.”
Jean furrows her brows and places a hand on Scott’s lap. They look at each other for a moment before Scott turns away, toward the Professor. “I’ve got a bit of a headache. Can I be excused?”
The Professor nods. “Of course.”
Scott makes a speedy exit, shooting one last glance at Jean as he does so.
The rest of dinner is a silent affair.
~ ~ ~
Scott rubs his forehead, trying to stave away the migraine he can feel coming.
The lights are off in his room, but it doesn’t make much difference since his eyes are tightly squeezed shut anyways. His glasses had been discarded at his bedside table.
Something about the new kid presses at his memory. He doesn’t think much about his life after Alaska, before Xavier. That middle area is a mix of stuff he’d rather ignore, outside of the isolated nightmares that plague him occasionally.
But if he's thinking about it now, there’s a reason, and he doesn’t want to deal with it.
Bamf!
Scott wrinkles his nose at the sulfur smell and fights the urge to open his eyes instinctively. He reaches for his glasses, as Kurt opens his mouth and begins to babble.
“Ah, sorry! I did not mean to - I just-”
“It’s okay,” Scott says through the stab of pain in his head. He blinks as his eyes adjust again. “Who were you running from,” he asks, slightly teasing.
Kurt crosses his hands behind him, shuffling guiltily. He stands in the shadows of Scott’s room, obscured by the darkness. “Evan,” he answers simply.
“Mm.”
“He got a camera,” Kurt says, an uncomfortable frown on his face. “I do not like to - um - have pictures taken of me.”
Scott purses his lips. He pats the bed beside him, leaning back against the headboard. “You can hide in here. Just - keep your voice down and don’t bother with the lights.”
Kurt nods, settling himself onto the bed. He stays close to the edge, studying Scott with critical yellow eyes. “It does not bother you,” he says eventually.
“Hm?”
Kurt gestures to himself.
Scott shrugs. He almost leaves it at that, but thinks he should elaborate in case his shrug should be interpreted incorrectly. “Jean said you’re blue.” Scott squints behind his glasses. “I can’t really tell. Everyone looks red to me.”
Kurt’s eyebrows furrow. “Take them off then?”
Scott huffs a laugh. “I can’t. My power doesn’t - they don’t turn off.”
“Oh.” Kurt shuffles forward, plopping his head onto Scott’s shoulder. “Mine neither.”
Scott ruffles Kurt’s hair, hoping he’s not overstepping. Kurt doesn’t seem to mind.
“What did you mean earlier, about the performance,” Scott asks.
Kurt sighs. “I thought I understood! I lived at - a circus. They paid me with food.” Scott’s stomach sinks. That does sound familiar. “I thought this place was so nice because the performance is better. But it’s not a performance, it’s - training. To keep us safe. That is what Mr. Logan said.” He pauses. “I am sorry for jumping in.”
Scott nodded. “Yeah. You’re fine. And hey…I felt similar, when I came here. I used to live with someone who wasn’t very nice. He made me do things I didn’t want to because if I didn’t, I wouldn’t have anywhere else to go. And I thought Xavier was the same. But he’s really not. No one here is.” Scott sighs. “It takes a while to adjust to.”
Kurt nods. “I think…I am getting used to it,” he says.
There’s a knock at Scott’s door. Each hit pounds in his head. Kitty calls through the door, slightly panicked sounding. “Scott! We can’t find Kurt!”
Scott nudges the boy, a slight smile on his face. “Looks like they’re pretty worried about you.”
Kurt huffs, crossing his arms. “Worried about making fun of me!”
Scott laughs, then, once again ignoring the pounding it causes in his head. “That’s what families do. I promise they don’t mean anything. They’re just curious about you.”
Kurt looks at the door. At this angle, Scott can’t see his face, can’t tell what he’s thinking. His spaded tail flicks expressively.
Kurt shuffles just a little bit closer to Scott, wrapping his arms - and his tail - around the older boy. “Can I…” he trails off.
“Mmhmm?”
“Stay here?”
Scott nods. “Yeah,” he says softly.
The pounding at the door ceases. Scott knows he’ll get an earful from Jean later for the panic, but if Kurt isn’t leaving, he’s not calling through the door to tell them. The way his head has begun to pound, he can’t even entertain the idea of raising his voice.
“I’m taking my glasses off,” Scott warns. “Um. So don’t startle me.”
“Okay.”
As Kurt’s breathing evens out, Scott allows himself, for the first time in years, to mourn for his baby brother.
He remembers his brother’s blue eyes even as he can barely remember what blue looks like. He wonders if Kurt’s fur is the same shade. He remembers teasing Alex with all the vigor that a seven year old can, and sleeping in the same bed as him because Alex didn’t want to leave him alone with his migraines. He forces himself not to think about the plane or the look on Alex’s face before the wind had wrenched them apart and Scott’s skull hit the hard ground.
He opens his mouth, letting out a shuddering breath.
They fall asleep that way.
~ ~ ~
Rogue would be mad at Scott, if she couldn’t see in his face that something was different. Kurt appeared to be in higher spirits, but the older boy seemed to have relaxed a tad and that was more unexpected than anything.
Admittedly, Rogue didn’t know much about Scott. He’s the oldest, and has been at the Institute the longest. He’s stiff and uptight and has a crush on Jean.
That’s about all she knows.
Except, actually, she knows he’s also extremely protective of the rest of the team. He’s defensive of Xavier and just a little critical of Logan.
And apparently, has a soft spot for Kurt. All Kurt had to do was plead a little and Scott was skipping Logan’s training and sneaking them all out of the mansion for some fun.
“Woah,” Pietro says, leaving grass trampled in his wake as he circles around the group of mutants. They’d travelled down to the rocky beach a couple miles from the Institute, hoping to have some fun without any prying eyes. Unfortunately, it seems the prying eyes found their way anyway.
Scott had parked up at the top of the cliff, and they’d been intercepted on their trek a little less than halfway down.
The Brotherhood are all clad in swimming trunks and t-shirts. Fred’s got three uninflated tubes wrapped up in his arms, and Lance is lugging a cooler on wheels behind him.
“Who’s the freak, yo,” Todd asks, eyeing a mosquito as it circles his head.
“You’re one to talk,” counters Kitty, wrinkling her nose at the stench that always accompanies Toad.
Kurt grins, his sharp teeth cowing the Brotherhood just for a second. “You are also mutants,” he observes excitedly, clenching his fists and waving them up and down. “My name is Kurt,” he says, offering his hand to Fred.
“I’m Fred,” the boy says with a smile. He reaches for Kurt’s hand before Lance intercepts, smacking Fred’s rather large fingers away.
“So the X-Brats found another,” he says. “Big deal. Now what are you all doing here?”
Jean answers, her arms crossed. She’s got that critical expression on her face that she gets when the Brotherhood is around, the one that says she wishes she could be sympathetic but she just can’t. “We were hoping to have some fun. Is that a problem?”
“Uh, yeah,” says Pietro. “Cause we were planning on the same thing.”
“Can’t we just have a truce or something,” Evan asks, rolling his head back exasperatedly. “We only have so much time in the day, I wanna spend it in the water!”
Rogue sees the mischievous grin as it stretches across Pietro’s face. “I can help with that!”
Evan yelps as a gust of wind carries him away. Rogue sees the splash as he’s thrown into the water at high speeds - but at least Pietro hadn’t thrown him off the craggy cliffside. Pietro laughs; it can be heard from where he stands on the beach.
Scott’s forehead wrinkles. “It’s so on,” he says, but there’s a goodnatured-ness to it that Rogue hasn’t seen in him before.
He directs a tiny zap at Lance’s feet, causing him to dance away. The cliffside shakes.
“Scott,” Rogue warns. “Let up!”
Scott already had. He watches the cracks crawl up the side of the rocky ledge they’re standing on. His head whips back towards Lance.
“Lance, I was just joking around!”
Lance looks up with an expression of fear. “I know, I just panicked! I can’t stop it!”
Pietro zips back up the cliff. “What’s going on,” he asks, words blurring together.
Scott points at him, his leader face on. “Take Kitty and Todd down the mountain, they’re the lightest.”
Pietro looks at Scott disgustedly. “I don’t have to listen to-”
“Do it,” all three remaining members of the Brotherhood demand, although Todd sprinkles in a few other choice words as he attaches himself to Pietro’s back.
“Gross,” Kitty complains, but she throws her arms around Pietro’s shoulders instead.
They zip away, and Rogue watches as Pietro collapses on the beach below.
“We’ve gotta hurry,” she implores.
Scott turns to Jean. “Think you can get Lance and Fred?”
Jean worries at her lip. “I can try,” she says. She begins to levitate the two of them and herself down, and that just leaves Rogue, Scott, and Kurt.
“What about us,” Rogue asks, slightly panicked. She yelps as the ground under her foot gives way. Scott grabs her gloved hand, wrenching her back onto semi-stable land. He looks at Kurt.
“I’m so sorry, this was supposed to be fun,” he begins. “You have to take Rogue and get down there, can you do that?”
“What about you,” Rogue demands at the same time that Kurt says “I’ve never teleported anyone but myself!”
Scott shakes his head, his hands on Kurt’s shoulders. “Just try! Please?”
Kurt looks between the two of them; Scott’s calm face and Rogue’s terrified one. He mutters in German under his breath, his voice exuding anxiety. The others begin calling out from the ground - Jean and Pietro are both too tired to do anything more. Rogue isn’t sure Pietro is even conscious, as still as he is down there. “Okay,” he says quietly.
He grips Rogue’s arm, and that was his first mistake.
Because though her hand was gloved, her arm was barren - it was a hot day, after all.
The two of them cry out in alarm and pain, but Rogue reaches out to grab Scott. Maybe, before Kurt loses consciousness, she can use this borrowed energy and follow him - with Scott - to the ground.
The world spins and blackens and there are flashes of memories that aren’t hers and she can’t tell what’s her and what’s Kurt - and they hit the sandy beach but the world doesn’t stop spinning.
She hears Scott retching -
Flashing lights and the sound of a roaring crowd -
“Rogue, it’s okay, ssshh, it’s okay-”
The crack of a whip meant more to scare her than harm her, and scare her it does -
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to bring it down, I’m so sorry-”
She finds a crucifix on the ground and picks it up and for the first time in a long time she feels like things might be okay and just a few days later a gruff man with claws cuts through the bars of her cage -
The strobe lights finally stop. Rogue gasps, wails once in despair, and then begins to sob. The grains of sand chafe her skin as her shoulders shake. She throws a hand over her eyes, blocking the people from her. She can’t face them.
There’s a hand in her hair and whispered reassurances. She peeks through her fingers at Kitty, using her shirt as a buffer between her hands and Rogue’s skin. “It’s alright. We’re all okay.” Kitty rubs the sand off of Rogue’s tear-stained cheeks, heedless of the mess it makes on her shirt.
Rogue sobs even harder. How ironic, that she finally feels like part of the team at a moment like this ?
She lifts her head and surveys the damage.
Jean is sitting in the sand, holding her head in both hands. Her eyes are squeezed shut, and her breaths are measured.
Kurt and Pietro are both knocked out. Evan has Kurt’s head resting on his legs, and Fred has Pietro cradled in his arms like a baby. Both of them , plus Todd and Kitty, seem alright.
Scott is at the water’s edge, wiping his mouth and looking like he’s fighting back waves of nausea. Rogue can sympathise with that.
Lance is crouched in the sand several yards away, turned away from everyone else. Rogue can see his shoulders shaking.
No one says anything for a while, except for Kitty and her soft whispers. Rogue musters the energy to sit up. Every once in a while, another wave of Kurt’s memories bombard her - being sold to the circus by her parents, being called a demon and screamed at, so many other things - and she’s sent back into a fit of tears. But no one says anything.
Pietro wakes up, stomach grumbling.
And then Kurt, groaning and whimpering.
And finally, Scott re-enters the scene. “Okay,” he mumbles. “Okay. I think we should all…head back home. To the Institute, I mean. You all too,” he gestures to the Brotherhood.
“What for,” Lance snaps. His cheeks are stained with tears. “So you can have your daddy yell at us?”
Kitty opens her mouth as if to yell, but Scott beats her there. “So you can get some food into Pietro before he dies. ”
Lance doesn’t argue after that.
They all pile into Scott’s car, as impossible as that seems. Fred practically hangs off the back, but no one really cares enough to make two trips.
Rogue fishes a sweatshirt out of Scott’s trunk before they leave and throws it on, crossing her arms tightly. Halfway through the ride back, Kurt’s head flops onto her shoulder. She almost shoves it away instinctively, but she holds back.
She’s hurt him enough.
No one speaks, not even the loud-mouthed Todd. He’s sitting on Jean’s lap and doesn’t say anything about it, which is the biggest miracle of the evening. He hardly even seems to register it.
When they get back to the mansion, Logan is waiting in the garage. His arms are crossed and his brows are furrowed and he looks like he expected someone to be dead. Angry, and worried, and probably some other stuff mixed in there.
But it isn’t Logan they get an earful from. It’s Ororo.
“I would have thought you all would understand by now. With powers like yours, the smallest trip can become life threatening. All we ask is that you tell us where you are!”
Rogue laughs wetly. They don’t even know what happened!
Ororo looks at her worriedly, and then shakes her head. “And you all,” she begins sadly, raking her eyes over the members of the Brotherhood. They’d sat through the lecture, looking every bit their ages. Pietro even manages to look sad while sipping the protein shake Logan had fetched for him. “Mystique is gone. We had hoped you all would come to us on your own, but it seems we’ll have to intervene. You will be staying here.”
Todd looks up, yellowish eyes wide. “But-”
“ No, ” Ororo says, and that’s it.
She sighs. “Evan, show the boys to some spare rooms for now. Scott, stay with me. Tell me everything. Everyone else is dismissed.”
Rogue almost cries again. She wants to stay here with Ororo, but she also doesn’t exactly want to hear Scott recounting the events of that evening.
Then there’s a hand on her arm - she turns and Kurt is there.
“Can I talk to you,” he asks softly. He’s expecting her to say no, she can hear it in his voice.
She nods.
Bamf!
When Rogue blinks, she’s in a room she’s never been in before. It’s a bedroom, though, so she supposes it must be Kurt’s. There’s a door that opens out to a balcony, just like in her and Kitty’s room, and it’s opened to a warm breeze.
The only decoration in the room is a darkly colored crucifix above the bed - Rogue recognizes it from the memory.
“What did you see?” Kurt asks. His hand hasn’t left her arm.
Rogue shakes her head sadly. “I dunno, a lot of stuff. I can’t believe you lived like that!”
Kurt pulls away, looking at the carpeted floor. There’s shame in his coloring cheeks.
“I didn’t mean it like that. It wasn’t your choice.”
Kurt shakes his head. “But it was! I could have gotten away at any time! I didn’t have to let them hurt me! But they gave me food, even if it was gross, and I thought it was the only place where people wouldn’t scream when they saw me and I didn’t know where else to go!” He sobs, lunging forward to wrap his arms around Rogue’s waist. He buries his face in her shoulder. She flinches away a little - it’s too close to her neck, she doesn’t want to see any more of his memories, doesn’t want to hurt him any more. But they’re both being careful, so she allows it.
“I let them treat me like an animal,” Kurt mumbles into her shirt, utterly broken.
Rogue finally wraps her arms around him, reciprocating the embrace. “No, no, that’s on them. You were a kid. All of us still are! You didn’t deserve that. You should’ve had a mom who loved you -” her mind flashes to Mystique, to her foster mother. They only ever treated her like a tool. “And a dad, too. Me, you and - and maybe some of the others, too. We never got that. And it isn’t fair.” Her voice creaks on that last word.
She hasn’t really let herself cry about it all. About her life uprooting itself. And now she can’t seem to stop.
The two of them sob into each other, feeling like the world has paused to allow them this moment.
Eventually, the world moves on.
The two of them pull apart. Kurt offers a goofy, tear stricken smile. Rogue giggles and shakes her head.
“I love you, Kurt,” slips out of her mouth before she can even think about what she’s saying. She pauses, momentarily horrified at herself. “Not like-”
“Haha! I love you too, Rogue!”
And Rogue knows.
He understands.