Disclaimer: Theirs is theirs. Mine is mine. This is mine with bits of
theirs, and large chunks of stuph written by my penpal Heidi ^_^
Code-o-rama: *word* - bold
_word_ - italics (usually thoughts)
{word} - sound effects
~ - the bit between me and Heidi :)
Nothing is Easy
(or: Plot? What Plot? Numero Dos)
InterNutter and Heidi Fursteinburg
Five Seconds After the Cameras Stopped Rolling [The sequel to _Adrift_ ]
Everyone had pretty much stopped laughing at Kurt and his feminised
holoprojection. The Elf himself had turned back to the mirror and was
examining "herself" with a speculative look.
"You know, this isn't too bad. If I wanted to sneak into the girl's
locker room, I think I could possibly pass."
"Kurt..." warned Jean.
"Except the lipstick. That's really not my colour."
"Dude," said Scott. "You're creeping me out here, pal."
"What do *you* think?" Kurt turned back to them, gesturing at his
face. "This colour's just *way* too slutty on me. I think I'm more of a
coral..."
"All right," sighed the Professor. "You've had your fun. Hand over the
watch."
"Nein, that is not fun," he turned back to the mirror and bounced up
and down, ogling the holographic breasts. "*This* is fun."
"This is just *too* strange," Jean complained.
"Heh heh heh. No bra."
"Ewwww..." Scott covered his face. "*Ku-urt*..."
"Bouncy bouncy bouncy..."
"*KURT*!" Yelled the Professor.
He theatrically undid the watch and handed it back to the Professor
with an equally overacted sigh and left the room.
"Professor?" asked Scott. "Could you do us all a favour?"
"Yes?"
"For the love of God; never, *EVER* do that again!"
And now, the fanfic sequel! ~
{knock, knock}
"Who is it?" Scott answered.
"It's me, Kurt." There was a loud groan from behind Scott's door.
"Man, I'm not sure if I'm even *comfortable* talking with you after
today."
"You weren't thinking the same thing?" Kurt asked innocently, barely
hiding his wish to torment his older friend.
"What did you want?" Scott asked, tactfully changing the subject.
Kurt looked in several directions, lowered his voice and asked, "Can I
come in first?"
"Sure, whatever," Scott answered hesitantly. He waited just long
enough for his blue-furred friend to enter then, "Ok, so what is it?"
"It's Kitty. She won't even talk with me," Kurt complained.
"I can't imagine why," Scott muttered humourlessly.
Kurt grinned, "I can, but I want her to stop not talking to me."
"Well, it may take awhile," Scott said. Now he had a horrible thought.
If Kurt didn't hang around Kitty, he was usually inclined to hang around
him instead. Not a pleasant thought. Then, hurriedly, he said, "Um,
let's work on this Kitty thing."
~
Kurt hopped up onto the visitor's chair and picked at his nails,
trying to think. "You probably want to know about the hologram thing
first, I think."
"*I* think the less that's said about that, the better," growled
Scott.
"Nein, not *that* one. The one you missed. The reason why Herr
Professor pulled that joke in the first place."
Scott folded his arms, probably just in case. Kurt didn't blame him.
"Uh. I tried to make myself look better. To impress her."
Noncommittal. "Yeah?"
"Try to imagine it - Fuzzy Schwartzeneger." He pulled a mini-pose and
managed a weak grin.
Scott brayed laughing. "Now *that* might have been worth seeing... So
what happened?"
"It fritzed right in front of her. She laughed at me. I ran." Kurt
shrugged. Running was his default response to anyone making a loud noise
in his direction, really. That, and trying to hide. Old habits died
hard.
"And that was the last you heard from her?"
"Pretty much. She and Jean were talking in the kitchen later, but they
shut up the minute they saw me. You know how women talk like that? Any
male goes by, they *watch*, with this look on their face..."
"I know the one," said Scott. "Got it a few times."
"There was more - anger - behind this one. Ever since - I haven't
exactly been Mister Popularity."
Evan walked in and, halfway through a breezy greeting, spotted Kurt.
"Hey bossman! Hear you won't be doing any training -- oh. You're busy.
It'll keep." He turned back the way he came and walked off.
"See?" said Kurt. "It's spreading. Pretty soon I won't be able to talk
to anyone."
Rogue poked her head through the door, glared at Kurt, said, "Oh.
*You're* here," and left just as quickly.
"Ach... I'm getting so many cold shoulders, I'm going to freeze..."
"Relax," said Scott. "I'll talk to Jean the next time she comes in and
find out what this is all about. In the meantime - just give everyone a
little breathing room, okay?"
Kurt took his unspoken, _And that includes me,_ to heart. "Okay. I
have schoolwork to go through anyway." And a despondant little devil put
his hands in his pockets and slinked back to his room.
~
Kurt knew that he was supposed to wait until Scott tried to straighten
things out before he approached anyone. And he did, for a while, but the
fuzzy mutant was almost instantly lonely.
The only solution - he had to come up with a way to entertain himself.
It began small, he had gone to the basement and searched through things
that even the Professor did not know existed. He would then leave a trail
of dust - prints all the way back to his bed. The trouble for him was that
there was no way that he couldn't be blamed. The footprints were quite
obvious. Soon after he had re-entered his room there were shouts of, yes,
you guessed it, "KURT!"
It soon became obvious to poor Kurt that the more he tried to come up
with innocent fun, the more he would get yelled at. Pranks got him the same
responses, but they were definitely more fun. So his mind began focusing on
clever ways to have a little bit of fun.
His first victim seemed obvious. I mean, it was the Professor who got
him into this mess in the first place...
~
The real problem was this: what sort of prank to pull on a telepath?
Anything involving the usual sneak-up-and-dump-something frivolity got
a, "Don't even think about it," before he got anywhere within range. It
had to be harmless. It had to be delivered by an innocent. It had to be
a gentle little reminder of how screwed up everything was for him, right
now.
Kurt grinned as the idea hit him. Bingo.
He waited until midnight, and quietly stole into the kitchen. The
Professor generally had breakfast bought to him, especially after Jamie
and the noodle incident. Kurt could understand how the last thing an
adult wanted to be near was a pack of hyperactive mutants, first thing
in the morning. However, that also opened the avenue for some
interesting facts.
Fact: sugar and salt look identical.
Fact: most people are on guard for sugar in the salt shaker and salt
in the sugar bowl.
Therefore, with a little judicious fiddling, there was now salt in the
sugar bowl, pepper in the salt shaker, and sugar in the pepper shaker.
All were put back where they belonged before Kurt bamfed back to his
room for the rest of the night.
Okay, so it probably *wasn't* the right thing to do; but if he was
going to get into trouble *anyway*, he might as well know what he did.
He could *deal* with knowing what he was in trouble for.
That breakfast, he found himself at the opposite end of the table from
everyone else, and shivered slightly. It was getting worse. Scott, let
out of the hospital wing for meals only, kept with the larger group and
glared at him.
Kurt sighed and lost most of his appetite, picking at the foodstuffs
he'd piled on his plate before sitting down. He stared at Kitty, fork
idly scraping some scrambled eggs around his plate, wondering just what
it was he'd done to deserve this level of ostracism.
_Katzchen, ich leibe dich,_ he thought at her. Not that she could hear
his thoughts, and even if she could, she'd probably ignore them anyway.
He balanced his fork on its tines and, finger resting on the end of
the handle, made it pace around his plate. None of the others noticed
how down he was. No-one was even looking his way.
_It's like I'm not even here,_ he thought. _Would they notice if I
just went away?_
~
So Kurt's first response to the situation was to yell the length of
the table asking everyone, or anyone who'd answer what he did wrong, but
that ran the risk of being completely ignored again and he couldn't take
another let down.
He looked around the table, silently revelling in the number of faces
that were disgusted over the various adjustments that he had made on the
shakers.
Then, he made up his mind. 'Porting to the centre of the table, and
ignoring the various dirty looks from people suddenly receiving blue
fur on their plates he pleaded with the crowd, "What the ---- is going
on? Why are you mad at me?" he virtually screamed.
"Yeah like you don't know!" Kitty returned.
"Ewwww, man, you got fur in my food!" Evan reprimanded.
Various : "Get off the table!"
Kurt wasn't going to give up that easy, "Nein! Not until you tell me
why you're mad at me!"
"Jerk!" Rogue muttered and walked away.
"Jean and I saw you, man" Evan added.
"Saw what?" Kurt almost pleaded.
"You, like, strung up Rogue's underwear, on the school's flag pole,
you jerk!" Kitty, of course.
"Not to mention, it was durin' mah period," Rogue added flatly,
angrily.
" . . . and gathered people around to sing 'Ode to Rogue'!" Jean
pratically yelled at Kurt.
Kurt looked at one angry face to another. All he knew was that *he*
didn't do it. Kurt said fairly weakly, "Wow, that is mean." Then ported
to his room. To figure out what had *really happened*.
~
Whoever it was that *did* do it, they didn't know his style. Sure, he
was the master of pranks, but they were generally harmless and easily
cleaned up. Except for the whole noodle thing, and he'd been scraping up
a majority of the mess before half of it had hit the floor. *And* he had
sauce in his fur, which he took as a sign never to mix mutants and
pranks with foodstuffs ever again.
Kurt took out his holowatch logbook on a suspicion. What if it was
someone who only *looked* like him? If one of his holowatches was
*missing*, then all he had to do was find the culprit who'd taken it. On
the other hand, if *none* of his holowatches were missing, that could
only mean one thing.
Mystique, his mother, was up to something. But what? And *why*?
Kurt turned to the last page in his logbook, and took a roll call.
Dummkopf: currently on his wrist. 3 days of faithful service.
Crash: massive system failure, two weeks ago. Still in software
diagnostics.
Fritz: charged and concealed in the little niche above the lintel of
his locker door, just in case. Kurt made a note to double-check that.
Shock: practically disembowelled during a training session with
Wolverine three weeks prior. Sent off to Tanagashima for repairs.
Expected back next month.
Zap: short-circuited so badly that mercy-killing has been considered.
Professor working on circuits in his spare time. Such as there was of
it. May yet be sent off to Tanagashima for repairs, perhaps general
transplant.
There was only one he had to check up on. Fritz. With barely another
thought, he 'ported to his locker at school. No-one would be there, but
he turned on his hologram, just to be safe. Kurt twirled his combination -
Kitty's dimensions and his adoption day - and checked out the contents.
Evan had told him never to store anything valuable in his locker -
he'd learned that lesson the hard way - but *not* having a spare
holowatch around was just dangerous. He had a record as long as his arm
for fritzing out holoprojectors at the wrong moment, and he usually had
a handful of second's warning. Barely enough time to grab the spare and
bolt for a cubical in the boy's toilets.
Kurt reached in, twisting himself so he could get to Fritz's hiding
place.
"Looking for something?" said his voice.
Kurt gasped, forgetting about the watch. He was staring at himself,
and there was no mirror involved. Then the fury at what this -
individual - had done overwhelmed the shock.
"Guten tag, Herr Doppelganger," he growled.
~
Kurt watched as the figure in front of him peeled back his lips in an
evil grin. It made Kurt shudder and wonder how it was that *he* had
never discovered that his face could do that. "This is interesting, I
didn't know I had a double," the double said.
"Hey, you're the double, Doppelganger," Kurt responded, wondering
perhaps if *he* was the double. But when Kurt finally decided that, yes,
he was the original, the Doppelganger had vanished. Completely, and
mysteriously for there was no noise or sound of 'porting and Kurt didn't
notice that the creature had made a move. It was just gone.
Now, it didn't take long for Kurt to figure out that no one would
believe him, under normal circumstances. But, that it would be worse now
with everyone mad at him. Jean would probably not help or serve as a
reliable lie-detector, so it was clear that he had to clear his name in
a different manner. Trouble was, he didn't know exactly what to do -
yet.
When Kurt returned to the mansion, it appeared as though his
Doppelganger had gotten there first. Amara came running towards him,
quite angry. "Kurt, you thieving, bootless gypsy. You nasty, dirty
peasant!"
"What'd I do?" Kurt squealed. As she approached. Amara thrust out
some very pretty jewelry, that, to Kurt's expert eye, seemed fit for a
Duchess at least. He was fairly certain as to where the price range
would be in the average jeweler's market. Involuntarily, he let out a
whistle.
"Yeah, and I found them in your room! Lucky I searched it first,
because I'd still probably be looking for them!" Amara screeched.
Now Kurt wasn't the type to get angry or hateful, but she now crossed
the line from mere annoyance to something worse. That to the full range
of emotions marked only slightly below pure anger.
"That's an invasion of privacy and why my room!" Kurt shot off angrily
and cooled down only after he realized that he dug himself his own
grave.
"I know what you're all like, thieves, and this just prooves it!"
Amara than stalked off and Kurt ported to his room to avoid any other
conflict that might be coming. His room was in a shambles.
_Kurt, could you please come down to the Library. I'd like to talk
with you_ The Professor's mental message came. Kurt was relieved. He
could now vent to a caring ear, and then have it all straightened out.
He practically skipped to the Library.
"Kurt, I have something to discuss with you, why don't you have a
seat," the Professor greeted. Kurt suddenly had a sinking feeling. He
had adapted such feelings to keep him alive when he used to be eternally
on the run, but the feelings hadn't really been needed here.
Nevertheless. They came.
"Look Professor-"
"Kurt, there have been many complaints of theft and crude jokes. I
don't know what the meaning of this sudden, uh, nonsense is, but I have
been thinking that perhaps, you're not happy here. Maybe you are
homesick?"
Kurt could have screamed READ MY MIND! It seemed the Professor only
gave his speech about privacy when privacy served no purpose. Then, he
had a horrible thought, what if he already had read the mind of that
crazy, evil Doppelganger? Kurt suddenly felt sick.
~
A flash of memory practically blinded him. He'd been too caught up
with the Doppelganger that he hadn't checked his locker for Fritz. How
much of a double *was* his double? There was no proof. Not even an atom
of it, and the Professor was going to send him away.
Not that Heirelgart didn't have its charms. Everyone *knew* him in
Heirelgart. He didn't have to hide or be afraid, there. He had friends
and family there.
Just like he had friends and family here. He could *belong* here. Be
part of something bigger than a matinee performance on the high wire, or
tumbling through hoops on the trapeese.
Then there was the thought of the Doppelganger. What would he (it?) do
if Kurt was no longer there? Would it pick on someone else?
Kurt tried to speak, and froze in terror.
The Doppelganger was standing right behind the Professor. One moment
it hadn't been there, the next, it was. There had been no sound. No
warning. No clue to the Professor that it was there.
_Oh Gott. It's got a knife!_
There was no time to think. Kurt leaped at it with an inarticulate
howl, hoping somehow that he could frighten the thing away.
Just like that, it was gone again, and Kurt was caught fast in a
telekinetic grip. He couldn't move a muscle. A powerful fog began to
overwhelm his mind. The Professor was putting him to sleep.
_No, wait. Please. You can't... I haven't..._
Blackness.
Antiseptic smell. Thick. Cloying. Straps, holding him fast to the bed.
Couldn't breathe properly. Kurt risked opening his eyes. Tubes. Wires.
Everywhere. They'd left his hologram on. He didn't know why.
A voice. "What I found the most interesting is a complete lack of any
memory associated with his recent misdeeds. Apparrently, all we can
thank *Kurt* for is our little breakfast surprise, this morning." The
Professor. "The other persona, however..."
"Waitaminute," Scott. "Other persona? Are you saying that Kurt has
some kind of disassociative disorder? He's schitzophrenic?"
_That would explain a lot,_ Kurt thought. _It really would. Except I
saw him. I felt his physical presence._
"There *are* some fractures in Kurt's psyche," said the Professor. "A
souvenir of a few - unpleasant events in his past. I'd thought that none
of them were large enough to create a seperate identity - until today."
"So it's true," said Scott. "He really *did* attack you."
The Professor sighed. "I searched his memories on that event. He
believed he was protecting me from his other self. The suppressed side,
as it were."
_They think I'm crazy..._
There was laughter. His laughter turned sick. "My, my, my," His double
tsked. "Aren't *you* in a pretty pickle?"
Kurt tried to get a look at his left wrist, to see if the monster was
at least wearing Fritz. "Who *are* you, man? Why pick on me?"
"I really can't believe you," said the Doppelganger. "You're living in
the middle of all this - with some amazingly freaky associates, I might
add, and what do you *do* with it? You play at being a 'good little
soldier'. You don't even try to help yourself - but I suspect you have
the skills."
Kurt guiltily thought of Uncle Wolf and the excitingly unsavoury gypsy
talents he'd passed on. He *could*. He had the knowledge and, thanks
again to Uncle Wolf, the tools. The point was that he *chose* not to.
Dear Uncle Wolf, whose philosophy on life was that anything on the other
side of a lock was worth getting to, and anyone stupid enough to get
caught deserved the jail time. The entire troupe had to sit on him
during their stays in the richer towns.
"You can't know everything about me," Kurt said, praying it was true.
He was also praying he could work his hidden tail free and latch on to
the monster before he chose to vanish again.
"I know about the moppet in your third bedside drawer. I know about
that rather *interesting* family portrait in your dresser. And those
*lovely* antique brushes. Who stole *them*, I wonder? I bet you got them
from an elderly relative. Grampa? Gramma?"
"Onkel Wolf," said Kurt, acting his heart out to appear sad. "He died
the next year."
The Doppelganger laughed. "Too trusting. Far too trusting. A few more
letters from home, and I'll be able to have your wonderful little life.
Not to mention have my fun with it, too."
Almost. Almost free.
"Who *are* you? What's your name?"
Grin. "I bet you can guess." He picked at his teeth with his pinkie
finger.
It came to him in a flash. "Curt Wagner."
"Don't wear it out, fuzzychops." And he was gone.
Just in time for the Professor and Scott to enter the room and ask
who he was talking to.
~
Kurt was a little deflated. It seemed that his now-frequent visitor
had excellent timing, "No one," he said glumly.
Then both Scott and the Professor looked down and noticed that he had
almost escaped. The assumptions that went with that knowledge were not
altogether good. "Kurt, we're not very sure that we can trust you
anymore, what with this sudden burst of..." The Professor paused trying
to find and appropriate way to end without hurting the sensitive
mutant.
"Insanity and reckless behavior," Scott finished, trying to stay true
to the Professor's speech patterns.
"Just give me a few days, and I think that I can figure this out.
Please," Kurt begged, and though no one understood exactly what he was
talking about they allowed him that. It would be dangerous, they
figured, but Kurt sort of had a way of growing on people and so they
agreed.
The first thing that Kurt did when he was alone was go to his locker
at school. When he did, he found that Fritz was still there, safely
stored away. Though, Kurt then realized that the creature he went up
against could have just put it back. His shoulders sagged. The discovery
of Fritz hadn't really led to any discovery. He 'ported back to his
room.
But Kurt wasn't going to be put down by just that. He was on a, er,
manhunt, if he could ever find out what the creature was. Kurt figured
that his counterpart would need a base, but because it seemed to have a
strange variant of his 'porting power, the base could be anywhere.
Kurt did know that the creature was learning from his life how to be
him. The mention of the letters from home and his safeguarded,
precious, picture were some of the things that it had mentioned. So,
obviously, the creature was in his room when he wasn't and somehow could
figure out other's presences because of his excellent timing.
"Now, if I were an evil mutant that looked like me and wanted to take
over my life, where would I hide?" Kurt muttered to himself. But, saying
that didn't magically make him figure out the riddle.
Kurt flopped down onto his bed with a sigh. Then, reaching for the box
of letters from home that he kept under his bed he quietly marvelled
about how secretive and sometimes soothing underground had been for him.
Back home, when he got into trouble, he would disappear into the little
cubby under the house while things blew over. Then it hit him. Why
wouldn't this creature also like to hide there? It kept him close to the
mansion and he didn't have to worry over discovery and...
Kurt jumped up a plan began forming in his mind. Perhaps if he could
trap the creature and then question it like in Scooby Doo. It could
work.
When Kurt entered the basement, he found that his guess had been
correct. That something *had* been down here. Something either much like
Kurt or very good at imitating him. In the centre of it all was nice and
tidy, but there was much packaged and stored food about along with some
of the missing letters and things. This worried him and it seemed that
things were growing a bit too creepy.
~
Showing the Professor the lair would be no proof either. Everyone
seemed to think that the Doppelganger was a fabrication of his own mind.
It would follow that he *could* have set up the lair as a - what was it,
now? A different persona.
They thought he was crazy, that every repressed fragment of anger,
hate, or spite he'd ever had had ganged up on him and become another
person. That wasn't true. Curt Wagner was as real as he was, and had,
for some reason, decided to take what he hadn't earned.
_Time to start thinking like Uncle Wolf. Be smart. Be cunning. Be so
completely underhanded that I'm practically upside-down. I need to get
positive proof. But *how*?_
If Logan was here, and he wasn't, he'd be able to sniff out the double
in a cold second. Everyone, he'd said, smelled unique. Even twins.
Therefore, if this - creature - was *exactly* like him, Logan would be
able to smell the difference.
_Too bad Logan's in Canada looking for his past again,_ Kurt sighed.
By the time Logan came back, someone could be dead. Or, he shuddered at
the thought, he could be sharing Cain Marco's suspended animation tube.
The only positive proof was going to be the Doppelganger itself.
Preferably alive. Even though it was evil, Kurt didn't want to kill it.
Therefore he was going to need something to knock it unconscious. Since
it could blink in and out without warning, he was going to need a
weapon. He was going to have to become a sniper.
The Professor was not going to like *that*.
Better not tell him, then.
The weapons locker was locked and alarmed, but Uncle Wolf's knowledge
and tools made short work of that. He took out the tranquiliser gun and
a few dozen darts calibrated for someone approximately his weight. Next,
he put the weapons locker back almost exactly the way he'd found it.
Kurt found a good place to hide, on top of some crates and underneath an
air vent, and set up the gun in the shadows.
Kurt got himself into a comfortable position and opened a packet of
rolled oats to chew on. He needed to eat with his metabolism, and oats
were a good food if he needed to stay still for extended periods of
time. They wouldn't make him restless, like just about everything else
did, and they wouldn't make a noise while he ate them.
"Come on, you bastard," he whispered in the gloom. "I'm waiting for
you." He stuffed a pinch of oats into his mouth and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Someone walked into the basement. At last. Kurt contained himself.
_Wait and see who it is,_ he thought. _Wait for a clean shot._
~
Kurt gulped when he saw what looked like him next to Kitty. He was
pulling her along, and she didn't look very happy. Well, she looked as
though she was about to murder him.
...and Kurt couldn't get a clean shot. He strained and worked and
Kitty would move in front everytime, but it was as though she was forced
in front. She was his human shield! Kurt realized, it was maddening. _He
knows that I am here!_ He was alert now and very angry. But when his
eyes met with the Doppelganger's and saw it smile, Kurt did something
quite unexpected and probably quite dumb, but definitely unexpected.
Abandoning his gun, he leapt on the Doppelganger punching him and
pumelling him until he reached the floor. Kitty, stunned, watched the
two go down in a flurry. She could have helped Kurt, except that she
didn't know which one *was* Kurt.
Finally, she chose the Kurt without the holoprojector, because he
looked so mad that he might kill someone. Unaware of how the
Doppelganger had used her as a shield she began to kick Kurt. Hard. Kurt
howled in pain and ported off of the Doppelganger and away from Kitty.
When he did so, the Doppelganger rushed Kitty and the two of them
disappeared.
"NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNnnnnnnnnnnnooooooooooo!" Kurt screamed, but
he had no idea where the beast went.
~
_Think! Think!_ There were hundreds of little places where nobody
went, where nobody could see him 'port. Kurt knew them all. He bamfed
through all fifty of them, staying only long enough to make certain the
monster wasn't there before he 'ported away again.
He finished up in his room, which had been tidied up in his absence.
Well, almost tidied up.
Curt had been there, and left a little calling card.
Very few people knew about 'Schmerzmann', the little doll Mama had
made him because Kurt as a small child was uncommunicative when he was
hurt. He refused to identify pain on any other doll because it *wasn't*
'just like him'. Schmerzmann came with Kurt to America, ostensibly for
luck, but mostly for the nightmares and the times when he felt
incredibly homesick.
Schmerzmann was now hanging by his neck from the chandallier. Curt had
hung Kurt in effigy.
Kurt sighed. _Cute. Real cute. You're not going to get away with it,
you bastard. You're not going to get away with anything. Not while I
live and breathe._
He needed a better plan.
Of course.
Cerebro.
Kurt bamfed into the massive computer's room and searched for Kitty.
Her power took longer than a few seconds to work, and would be easier to
trace than the bastard wearing his face.
There she was, in close proximity to another mutant. Evidently, there
were a few more places where nobody went that the Doppelganger knew
about.
Kurt could find that place. A few quick bamfs had him armed once more,
with a spare weapon for Kitty. Then, the coup de grace.
_Professor! I think Kitty's in trouble. Where is she?_
_One moment,_ came the Professor's reply. Kurt was still 'connected',
and could feel his mentor searching. The wave of shock hit hard.
_There's -- *two* of you?_
_Get the team there. I have to stop him._
A flash of smoke and light, and he was facing the monster again.
Kitty was woozy and confused. Kurt still tossed the tranquilliser gun
at her with a quick, "When you get the chance, shoot us both!"
Then he tossed the other sword to his double. "En guarde, monster."
Curt caught it, holding it as expertly as Kurt did. "Ha. You should
talk. Freak."
Their swords clashed. Any other day, Kurt would have been glad of the
opportunity to fence. Today, lives were at stake, he was already tired
from 'porting so often, and Kitty had dropped the gun with a girlish
scream.
"EW! Like, guns are like, *evil*!"
_Heaven help me._ "It's a tranquilliser gun, Katzchen," Kurt told her.
"Both barrels are loaded. All you have to do is aim and fire. You won't
hurt us."
"No?" said the Doppelganger. "What about our high metabolism? Did you
think about that?"
"Not really," said Kurt. He got past Curt's guard and cut his watch
off his wrist. As expected, the Doppelganger remained human. "But I'd
rather be dead than have *you* around, hurting people in my name."
"It's *my* name, du Trottel!"
"Ja? Well, mine's the *good* name, du Damonfischeier!"
"Scheissekopf!"
"Ungewohnliches Erscheinen!"
The blades flashed, the insults flew. Kitty was screaming at them to
stop it, please. She was crying.
Curt took advantage and got a blow in. Kurt barely deflected it in
time. First blood went to the Doppelganger.
"Dankeshoen, monster," Kurt menaced, licking the spilled blood off his
hand. The wound in his side bled freely, unnoticed. "I needed a wake-up
call. I was starting to get bored with you."
"*Bored*?" the Doppelganger redoubled his efforts. "I'll show you
*boring*!"
He was angry. He wasn't thinking clearly. Just the advantage Kurt
needed. He gave the Doppelganger a matching wound, then a tiny slice
across one cheek. Perhaps it would scar. Give the double a permanent
difference from him.
Kitty was so confused. There were two Kurts. One blue and fuzzy and
the other pink and normal-looking. She didn't know which one was which.
Kurt had turned up at her door, just a few minutes ago, urging her to
come see what he'd found in the basement. It was proof, he'd said, of
his double's existance.
The whole mansion knew about Kurt's 'trouble', his little identity
crisis. Word had gone out around the mansion within seconds of him
attacking the Professor. It was all anyone could talk about.
Therefore, Kitty had humoured him and gone along to see the 'monster's
lair'. She didn't understand why he had to steer her along by one arm,
or why he was acting so - creepy.
Then it hit her. He was talking to her as his other self. The dark,
icky side. It made her so mad that she could be fooled. It made her even
more mad to be dragged along by him and not see a flicker of the Kurt
she knew.
And then, to top it all off, things got *really* strange. There was a
wierd animal howling that scared her to pieces and all of a sudden there
were *two* Kurts. One human, one demon; fighting each other with levels
of savagery she hadn't known had existed. She hadn't known which one to
hurt, which one to help; so she just picked the one that looked the
meanest and kicked with all her might.
He bamfed away, then the other Kurt was on her and -blink- they were
here.
"You're coming with me, Geliebter," said Kurt. "I need you for
insurance."
The words didn't make sense to her. Nothing made sense to her. She was
so dizzy and sick and she just wanted to lie down until it all went
away. She'd never felt this bad after a teleport.
Then the other one was there and they were fighting with swords and
hurling insults at each other in German and -- EW! She was holding a
*gun*!
Kitty dropped it without thinking, and tried desperately to figure out
which Kurt she should be rooting for.
The demonic fuzzy one was looking wild and stressed. Worried and
frantic. The other one had every confidence that he would win.
Fuzzy wanted her to shoot them, but the other one remembered the
severe effects any anaesthetic had on him - them. Fuzzy didn't care. He
just wanted everyone else to be safe.
*That* was her Kurt.
Trembling, Kitty tried to reach for the gun. She hated guns. Guns
killed. She didn't want to kill anyone.
_Get a grip,_ said a voice inside her head. To Kitty's infinite
surprise, it was her. _Things are only going to get worse if you let it
go. Look, they're both bleeding._
Kitty looked. This time, really using her eyes, just like Logan said.
She saw a clunky sports watch on the ground, its wrist-band was cut.
Which meant that neither Kurt was wearing a holowatch right now.
She picked up the gun and took aim.
~
Kitty took aim. Though she had never fired a gun before, the proximity
between her and the one that she wanted to shoot was so close that her
lack of use barely mattered. The Doppelganger, at that moment, pushed
Kurt violently backwards gloating in his triumph, but then he saw his
error.
Kitty took the shot and it hit, but the process for the victim to fall
was not at all as quickly as she would have expected Kurt to go down.
But when he fell finally, Kitty knew that it wasn't Kurt and was
relieved.
Now, a little late for the exchange, it seemed that everyone in the
institute was there ready to pat Kurt and Kitty on the back. It might
have seemed an almost normal situation had Wolverine restrained from
saying, "You did alright kid, an' I though ya were gettin' rusty."
Kurt stopped. Wolverine seemed to know and it seemed to much of a
coincidence that all of the institute, save for Kitty, seemed to know.
~ The scenery faded away, revealling the gunmetal grey of the
Institute's Danger room.~
"That's right Kurt, this was a training excercise," the Professor
stated. "To see if you could trust more upon your intellect under
pressure and not so much-"
"Dumb luck!" Someone supplied.
Now Kurt was angry, but he quelled such feelings because he was so
relieved that people would again talk to him. He was also curious about
how Kitty did not know what was going on. "Why didn't Kitty-"
"Realism." the Professor stated, with one word. "Now I suggest you get
some rest, you are exausted and you have school tomorrow. Kitty, if I
could have a word with you."
Kurt went to his room, but something about the atmosphere had changed.
All of his senses were telling him something. Somehow, Kurt felt that
the creation of the test had realeased something. He didn't know from
where, or if it was him. He just felt it.
Climbing into bed, Kurt noticed a slice of paper folded on his pillow.
It read: Congratulations, but I'm going to do the same to you as you
have done to me.
~The End?~
theirs, and large chunks of stuph written by my penpal Heidi ^_^
Code-o-rama: *word* - bold
_word_ - italics (usually thoughts)
{word} - sound effects
~ - the bit between me and Heidi :)
Nothing is Easy
(or: Plot? What Plot? Numero Dos)
InterNutter and Heidi Fursteinburg
Five Seconds After the Cameras Stopped Rolling [The sequel to _Adrift_ ]
Everyone had pretty much stopped laughing at Kurt and his feminised
holoprojection. The Elf himself had turned back to the mirror and was
examining "herself" with a speculative look.
"You know, this isn't too bad. If I wanted to sneak into the girl's
locker room, I think I could possibly pass."
"Kurt..." warned Jean.
"Except the lipstick. That's really not my colour."
"Dude," said Scott. "You're creeping me out here, pal."
"What do *you* think?" Kurt turned back to them, gesturing at his
face. "This colour's just *way* too slutty on me. I think I'm more of a
coral..."
"All right," sighed the Professor. "You've had your fun. Hand over the
watch."
"Nein, that is not fun," he turned back to the mirror and bounced up
and down, ogling the holographic breasts. "*This* is fun."
"This is just *too* strange," Jean complained.
"Heh heh heh. No bra."
"Ewwww..." Scott covered his face. "*Ku-urt*..."
"Bouncy bouncy bouncy..."
"*KURT*!" Yelled the Professor.
He theatrically undid the watch and handed it back to the Professor
with an equally overacted sigh and left the room.
"Professor?" asked Scott. "Could you do us all a favour?"
"Yes?"
"For the love of God; never, *EVER* do that again!"
And now, the fanfic sequel! ~
{knock, knock}
"Who is it?" Scott answered.
"It's me, Kurt." There was a loud groan from behind Scott's door.
"Man, I'm not sure if I'm even *comfortable* talking with you after
today."
"You weren't thinking the same thing?" Kurt asked innocently, barely
hiding his wish to torment his older friend.
"What did you want?" Scott asked, tactfully changing the subject.
Kurt looked in several directions, lowered his voice and asked, "Can I
come in first?"
"Sure, whatever," Scott answered hesitantly. He waited just long
enough for his blue-furred friend to enter then, "Ok, so what is it?"
"It's Kitty. She won't even talk with me," Kurt complained.
"I can't imagine why," Scott muttered humourlessly.
Kurt grinned, "I can, but I want her to stop not talking to me."
"Well, it may take awhile," Scott said. Now he had a horrible thought.
If Kurt didn't hang around Kitty, he was usually inclined to hang around
him instead. Not a pleasant thought. Then, hurriedly, he said, "Um,
let's work on this Kitty thing."
~
Kurt hopped up onto the visitor's chair and picked at his nails,
trying to think. "You probably want to know about the hologram thing
first, I think."
"*I* think the less that's said about that, the better," growled
Scott.
"Nein, not *that* one. The one you missed. The reason why Herr
Professor pulled that joke in the first place."
Scott folded his arms, probably just in case. Kurt didn't blame him.
"Uh. I tried to make myself look better. To impress her."
Noncommittal. "Yeah?"
"Try to imagine it - Fuzzy Schwartzeneger." He pulled a mini-pose and
managed a weak grin.
Scott brayed laughing. "Now *that* might have been worth seeing... So
what happened?"
"It fritzed right in front of her. She laughed at me. I ran." Kurt
shrugged. Running was his default response to anyone making a loud noise
in his direction, really. That, and trying to hide. Old habits died
hard.
"And that was the last you heard from her?"
"Pretty much. She and Jean were talking in the kitchen later, but they
shut up the minute they saw me. You know how women talk like that? Any
male goes by, they *watch*, with this look on their face..."
"I know the one," said Scott. "Got it a few times."
"There was more - anger - behind this one. Ever since - I haven't
exactly been Mister Popularity."
Evan walked in and, halfway through a breezy greeting, spotted Kurt.
"Hey bossman! Hear you won't be doing any training -- oh. You're busy.
It'll keep." He turned back the way he came and walked off.
"See?" said Kurt. "It's spreading. Pretty soon I won't be able to talk
to anyone."
Rogue poked her head through the door, glared at Kurt, said, "Oh.
*You're* here," and left just as quickly.
"Ach... I'm getting so many cold shoulders, I'm going to freeze..."
"Relax," said Scott. "I'll talk to Jean the next time she comes in and
find out what this is all about. In the meantime - just give everyone a
little breathing room, okay?"
Kurt took his unspoken, _And that includes me,_ to heart. "Okay. I
have schoolwork to go through anyway." And a despondant little devil put
his hands in his pockets and slinked back to his room.
~
Kurt knew that he was supposed to wait until Scott tried to straighten
things out before he approached anyone. And he did, for a while, but the
fuzzy mutant was almost instantly lonely.
The only solution - he had to come up with a way to entertain himself.
It began small, he had gone to the basement and searched through things
that even the Professor did not know existed. He would then leave a trail
of dust - prints all the way back to his bed. The trouble for him was that
there was no way that he couldn't be blamed. The footprints were quite
obvious. Soon after he had re-entered his room there were shouts of, yes,
you guessed it, "KURT!"
It soon became obvious to poor Kurt that the more he tried to come up
with innocent fun, the more he would get yelled at. Pranks got him the same
responses, but they were definitely more fun. So his mind began focusing on
clever ways to have a little bit of fun.
His first victim seemed obvious. I mean, it was the Professor who got
him into this mess in the first place...
~
The real problem was this: what sort of prank to pull on a telepath?
Anything involving the usual sneak-up-and-dump-something frivolity got
a, "Don't even think about it," before he got anywhere within range. It
had to be harmless. It had to be delivered by an innocent. It had to be
a gentle little reminder of how screwed up everything was for him, right
now.
Kurt grinned as the idea hit him. Bingo.
He waited until midnight, and quietly stole into the kitchen. The
Professor generally had breakfast bought to him, especially after Jamie
and the noodle incident. Kurt could understand how the last thing an
adult wanted to be near was a pack of hyperactive mutants, first thing
in the morning. However, that also opened the avenue for some
interesting facts.
Fact: sugar and salt look identical.
Fact: most people are on guard for sugar in the salt shaker and salt
in the sugar bowl.
Therefore, with a little judicious fiddling, there was now salt in the
sugar bowl, pepper in the salt shaker, and sugar in the pepper shaker.
All were put back where they belonged before Kurt bamfed back to his
room for the rest of the night.
Okay, so it probably *wasn't* the right thing to do; but if he was
going to get into trouble *anyway*, he might as well know what he did.
He could *deal* with knowing what he was in trouble for.
That breakfast, he found himself at the opposite end of the table from
everyone else, and shivered slightly. It was getting worse. Scott, let
out of the hospital wing for meals only, kept with the larger group and
glared at him.
Kurt sighed and lost most of his appetite, picking at the foodstuffs
he'd piled on his plate before sitting down. He stared at Kitty, fork
idly scraping some scrambled eggs around his plate, wondering just what
it was he'd done to deserve this level of ostracism.
_Katzchen, ich leibe dich,_ he thought at her. Not that she could hear
his thoughts, and even if she could, she'd probably ignore them anyway.
He balanced his fork on its tines and, finger resting on the end of
the handle, made it pace around his plate. None of the others noticed
how down he was. No-one was even looking his way.
_It's like I'm not even here,_ he thought. _Would they notice if I
just went away?_
~
So Kurt's first response to the situation was to yell the length of
the table asking everyone, or anyone who'd answer what he did wrong, but
that ran the risk of being completely ignored again and he couldn't take
another let down.
He looked around the table, silently revelling in the number of faces
that were disgusted over the various adjustments that he had made on the
shakers.
Then, he made up his mind. 'Porting to the centre of the table, and
ignoring the various dirty looks from people suddenly receiving blue
fur on their plates he pleaded with the crowd, "What the ---- is going
on? Why are you mad at me?" he virtually screamed.
"Yeah like you don't know!" Kitty returned.
"Ewwww, man, you got fur in my food!" Evan reprimanded.
Various : "Get off the table!"
Kurt wasn't going to give up that easy, "Nein! Not until you tell me
why you're mad at me!"
"Jerk!" Rogue muttered and walked away.
"Jean and I saw you, man" Evan added.
"Saw what?" Kurt almost pleaded.
"You, like, strung up Rogue's underwear, on the school's flag pole,
you jerk!" Kitty, of course.
"Not to mention, it was durin' mah period," Rogue added flatly,
angrily.
" . . . and gathered people around to sing 'Ode to Rogue'!" Jean
pratically yelled at Kurt.
Kurt looked at one angry face to another. All he knew was that *he*
didn't do it. Kurt said fairly weakly, "Wow, that is mean." Then ported
to his room. To figure out what had *really happened*.
~
Whoever it was that *did* do it, they didn't know his style. Sure, he
was the master of pranks, but they were generally harmless and easily
cleaned up. Except for the whole noodle thing, and he'd been scraping up
a majority of the mess before half of it had hit the floor. *And* he had
sauce in his fur, which he took as a sign never to mix mutants and
pranks with foodstuffs ever again.
Kurt took out his holowatch logbook on a suspicion. What if it was
someone who only *looked* like him? If one of his holowatches was
*missing*, then all he had to do was find the culprit who'd taken it. On
the other hand, if *none* of his holowatches were missing, that could
only mean one thing.
Mystique, his mother, was up to something. But what? And *why*?
Kurt turned to the last page in his logbook, and took a roll call.
Dummkopf: currently on his wrist. 3 days of faithful service.
Crash: massive system failure, two weeks ago. Still in software
diagnostics.
Fritz: charged and concealed in the little niche above the lintel of
his locker door, just in case. Kurt made a note to double-check that.
Shock: practically disembowelled during a training session with
Wolverine three weeks prior. Sent off to Tanagashima for repairs.
Expected back next month.
Zap: short-circuited so badly that mercy-killing has been considered.
Professor working on circuits in his spare time. Such as there was of
it. May yet be sent off to Tanagashima for repairs, perhaps general
transplant.
There was only one he had to check up on. Fritz. With barely another
thought, he 'ported to his locker at school. No-one would be there, but
he turned on his hologram, just to be safe. Kurt twirled his combination -
Kitty's dimensions and his adoption day - and checked out the contents.
Evan had told him never to store anything valuable in his locker -
he'd learned that lesson the hard way - but *not* having a spare
holowatch around was just dangerous. He had a record as long as his arm
for fritzing out holoprojectors at the wrong moment, and he usually had
a handful of second's warning. Barely enough time to grab the spare and
bolt for a cubical in the boy's toilets.
Kurt reached in, twisting himself so he could get to Fritz's hiding
place.
"Looking for something?" said his voice.
Kurt gasped, forgetting about the watch. He was staring at himself,
and there was no mirror involved. Then the fury at what this -
individual - had done overwhelmed the shock.
"Guten tag, Herr Doppelganger," he growled.
~
Kurt watched as the figure in front of him peeled back his lips in an
evil grin. It made Kurt shudder and wonder how it was that *he* had
never discovered that his face could do that. "This is interesting, I
didn't know I had a double," the double said.
"Hey, you're the double, Doppelganger," Kurt responded, wondering
perhaps if *he* was the double. But when Kurt finally decided that, yes,
he was the original, the Doppelganger had vanished. Completely, and
mysteriously for there was no noise or sound of 'porting and Kurt didn't
notice that the creature had made a move. It was just gone.
Now, it didn't take long for Kurt to figure out that no one would
believe him, under normal circumstances. But, that it would be worse now
with everyone mad at him. Jean would probably not help or serve as a
reliable lie-detector, so it was clear that he had to clear his name in
a different manner. Trouble was, he didn't know exactly what to do -
yet.
When Kurt returned to the mansion, it appeared as though his
Doppelganger had gotten there first. Amara came running towards him,
quite angry. "Kurt, you thieving, bootless gypsy. You nasty, dirty
peasant!"
"What'd I do?" Kurt squealed. As she approached. Amara thrust out
some very pretty jewelry, that, to Kurt's expert eye, seemed fit for a
Duchess at least. He was fairly certain as to where the price range
would be in the average jeweler's market. Involuntarily, he let out a
whistle.
"Yeah, and I found them in your room! Lucky I searched it first,
because I'd still probably be looking for them!" Amara screeched.
Now Kurt wasn't the type to get angry or hateful, but she now crossed
the line from mere annoyance to something worse. That to the full range
of emotions marked only slightly below pure anger.
"That's an invasion of privacy and why my room!" Kurt shot off angrily
and cooled down only after he realized that he dug himself his own
grave.
"I know what you're all like, thieves, and this just prooves it!"
Amara than stalked off and Kurt ported to his room to avoid any other
conflict that might be coming. His room was in a shambles.
_Kurt, could you please come down to the Library. I'd like to talk
with you_ The Professor's mental message came. Kurt was relieved. He
could now vent to a caring ear, and then have it all straightened out.
He practically skipped to the Library.
"Kurt, I have something to discuss with you, why don't you have a
seat," the Professor greeted. Kurt suddenly had a sinking feeling. He
had adapted such feelings to keep him alive when he used to be eternally
on the run, but the feelings hadn't really been needed here.
Nevertheless. They came.
"Look Professor-"
"Kurt, there have been many complaints of theft and crude jokes. I
don't know what the meaning of this sudden, uh, nonsense is, but I have
been thinking that perhaps, you're not happy here. Maybe you are
homesick?"
Kurt could have screamed READ MY MIND! It seemed the Professor only
gave his speech about privacy when privacy served no purpose. Then, he
had a horrible thought, what if he already had read the mind of that
crazy, evil Doppelganger? Kurt suddenly felt sick.
~
A flash of memory practically blinded him. He'd been too caught up
with the Doppelganger that he hadn't checked his locker for Fritz. How
much of a double *was* his double? There was no proof. Not even an atom
of it, and the Professor was going to send him away.
Not that Heirelgart didn't have its charms. Everyone *knew* him in
Heirelgart. He didn't have to hide or be afraid, there. He had friends
and family there.
Just like he had friends and family here. He could *belong* here. Be
part of something bigger than a matinee performance on the high wire, or
tumbling through hoops on the trapeese.
Then there was the thought of the Doppelganger. What would he (it?) do
if Kurt was no longer there? Would it pick on someone else?
Kurt tried to speak, and froze in terror.
The Doppelganger was standing right behind the Professor. One moment
it hadn't been there, the next, it was. There had been no sound. No
warning. No clue to the Professor that it was there.
_Oh Gott. It's got a knife!_
There was no time to think. Kurt leaped at it with an inarticulate
howl, hoping somehow that he could frighten the thing away.
Just like that, it was gone again, and Kurt was caught fast in a
telekinetic grip. He couldn't move a muscle. A powerful fog began to
overwhelm his mind. The Professor was putting him to sleep.
_No, wait. Please. You can't... I haven't..._
Blackness.
Antiseptic smell. Thick. Cloying. Straps, holding him fast to the bed.
Couldn't breathe properly. Kurt risked opening his eyes. Tubes. Wires.
Everywhere. They'd left his hologram on. He didn't know why.
A voice. "What I found the most interesting is a complete lack of any
memory associated with his recent misdeeds. Apparrently, all we can
thank *Kurt* for is our little breakfast surprise, this morning." The
Professor. "The other persona, however..."
"Waitaminute," Scott. "Other persona? Are you saying that Kurt has
some kind of disassociative disorder? He's schitzophrenic?"
_That would explain a lot,_ Kurt thought. _It really would. Except I
saw him. I felt his physical presence._
"There *are* some fractures in Kurt's psyche," said the Professor. "A
souvenir of a few - unpleasant events in his past. I'd thought that none
of them were large enough to create a seperate identity - until today."
"So it's true," said Scott. "He really *did* attack you."
The Professor sighed. "I searched his memories on that event. He
believed he was protecting me from his other self. The suppressed side,
as it were."
_They think I'm crazy..._
There was laughter. His laughter turned sick. "My, my, my," His double
tsked. "Aren't *you* in a pretty pickle?"
Kurt tried to get a look at his left wrist, to see if the monster was
at least wearing Fritz. "Who *are* you, man? Why pick on me?"
"I really can't believe you," said the Doppelganger. "You're living in
the middle of all this - with some amazingly freaky associates, I might
add, and what do you *do* with it? You play at being a 'good little
soldier'. You don't even try to help yourself - but I suspect you have
the skills."
Kurt guiltily thought of Uncle Wolf and the excitingly unsavoury gypsy
talents he'd passed on. He *could*. He had the knowledge and, thanks
again to Uncle Wolf, the tools. The point was that he *chose* not to.
Dear Uncle Wolf, whose philosophy on life was that anything on the other
side of a lock was worth getting to, and anyone stupid enough to get
caught deserved the jail time. The entire troupe had to sit on him
during their stays in the richer towns.
"You can't know everything about me," Kurt said, praying it was true.
He was also praying he could work his hidden tail free and latch on to
the monster before he chose to vanish again.
"I know about the moppet in your third bedside drawer. I know about
that rather *interesting* family portrait in your dresser. And those
*lovely* antique brushes. Who stole *them*, I wonder? I bet you got them
from an elderly relative. Grampa? Gramma?"
"Onkel Wolf," said Kurt, acting his heart out to appear sad. "He died
the next year."
The Doppelganger laughed. "Too trusting. Far too trusting. A few more
letters from home, and I'll be able to have your wonderful little life.
Not to mention have my fun with it, too."
Almost. Almost free.
"Who *are* you? What's your name?"
Grin. "I bet you can guess." He picked at his teeth with his pinkie
finger.
It came to him in a flash. "Curt Wagner."
"Don't wear it out, fuzzychops." And he was gone.
Just in time for the Professor and Scott to enter the room and ask
who he was talking to.
~
Kurt was a little deflated. It seemed that his now-frequent visitor
had excellent timing, "No one," he said glumly.
Then both Scott and the Professor looked down and noticed that he had
almost escaped. The assumptions that went with that knowledge were not
altogether good. "Kurt, we're not very sure that we can trust you
anymore, what with this sudden burst of..." The Professor paused trying
to find and appropriate way to end without hurting the sensitive
mutant.
"Insanity and reckless behavior," Scott finished, trying to stay true
to the Professor's speech patterns.
"Just give me a few days, and I think that I can figure this out.
Please," Kurt begged, and though no one understood exactly what he was
talking about they allowed him that. It would be dangerous, they
figured, but Kurt sort of had a way of growing on people and so they
agreed.
The first thing that Kurt did when he was alone was go to his locker
at school. When he did, he found that Fritz was still there, safely
stored away. Though, Kurt then realized that the creature he went up
against could have just put it back. His shoulders sagged. The discovery
of Fritz hadn't really led to any discovery. He 'ported back to his
room.
But Kurt wasn't going to be put down by just that. He was on a, er,
manhunt, if he could ever find out what the creature was. Kurt figured
that his counterpart would need a base, but because it seemed to have a
strange variant of his 'porting power, the base could be anywhere.
Kurt did know that the creature was learning from his life how to be
him. The mention of the letters from home and his safeguarded,
precious, picture were some of the things that it had mentioned. So,
obviously, the creature was in his room when he wasn't and somehow could
figure out other's presences because of his excellent timing.
"Now, if I were an evil mutant that looked like me and wanted to take
over my life, where would I hide?" Kurt muttered to himself. But, saying
that didn't magically make him figure out the riddle.
Kurt flopped down onto his bed with a sigh. Then, reaching for the box
of letters from home that he kept under his bed he quietly marvelled
about how secretive and sometimes soothing underground had been for him.
Back home, when he got into trouble, he would disappear into the little
cubby under the house while things blew over. Then it hit him. Why
wouldn't this creature also like to hide there? It kept him close to the
mansion and he didn't have to worry over discovery and...
Kurt jumped up a plan began forming in his mind. Perhaps if he could
trap the creature and then question it like in Scooby Doo. It could
work.
When Kurt entered the basement, he found that his guess had been
correct. That something *had* been down here. Something either much like
Kurt or very good at imitating him. In the centre of it all was nice and
tidy, but there was much packaged and stored food about along with some
of the missing letters and things. This worried him and it seemed that
things were growing a bit too creepy.
~
Showing the Professor the lair would be no proof either. Everyone
seemed to think that the Doppelganger was a fabrication of his own mind.
It would follow that he *could* have set up the lair as a - what was it,
now? A different persona.
They thought he was crazy, that every repressed fragment of anger,
hate, or spite he'd ever had had ganged up on him and become another
person. That wasn't true. Curt Wagner was as real as he was, and had,
for some reason, decided to take what he hadn't earned.
_Time to start thinking like Uncle Wolf. Be smart. Be cunning. Be so
completely underhanded that I'm practically upside-down. I need to get
positive proof. But *how*?_
If Logan was here, and he wasn't, he'd be able to sniff out the double
in a cold second. Everyone, he'd said, smelled unique. Even twins.
Therefore, if this - creature - was *exactly* like him, Logan would be
able to smell the difference.
_Too bad Logan's in Canada looking for his past again,_ Kurt sighed.
By the time Logan came back, someone could be dead. Or, he shuddered at
the thought, he could be sharing Cain Marco's suspended animation tube.
The only positive proof was going to be the Doppelganger itself.
Preferably alive. Even though it was evil, Kurt didn't want to kill it.
Therefore he was going to need something to knock it unconscious. Since
it could blink in and out without warning, he was going to need a
weapon. He was going to have to become a sniper.
The Professor was not going to like *that*.
Better not tell him, then.
The weapons locker was locked and alarmed, but Uncle Wolf's knowledge
and tools made short work of that. He took out the tranquiliser gun and
a few dozen darts calibrated for someone approximately his weight. Next,
he put the weapons locker back almost exactly the way he'd found it.
Kurt found a good place to hide, on top of some crates and underneath an
air vent, and set up the gun in the shadows.
Kurt got himself into a comfortable position and opened a packet of
rolled oats to chew on. He needed to eat with his metabolism, and oats
were a good food if he needed to stay still for extended periods of
time. They wouldn't make him restless, like just about everything else
did, and they wouldn't make a noise while he ate them.
"Come on, you bastard," he whispered in the gloom. "I'm waiting for
you." He stuffed a pinch of oats into his mouth and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Someone walked into the basement. At last. Kurt contained himself.
_Wait and see who it is,_ he thought. _Wait for a clean shot._
~
Kurt gulped when he saw what looked like him next to Kitty. He was
pulling her along, and she didn't look very happy. Well, she looked as
though she was about to murder him.
...and Kurt couldn't get a clean shot. He strained and worked and
Kitty would move in front everytime, but it was as though she was forced
in front. She was his human shield! Kurt realized, it was maddening. _He
knows that I am here!_ He was alert now and very angry. But when his
eyes met with the Doppelganger's and saw it smile, Kurt did something
quite unexpected and probably quite dumb, but definitely unexpected.
Abandoning his gun, he leapt on the Doppelganger punching him and
pumelling him until he reached the floor. Kitty, stunned, watched the
two go down in a flurry. She could have helped Kurt, except that she
didn't know which one *was* Kurt.
Finally, she chose the Kurt without the holoprojector, because he
looked so mad that he might kill someone. Unaware of how the
Doppelganger had used her as a shield she began to kick Kurt. Hard. Kurt
howled in pain and ported off of the Doppelganger and away from Kitty.
When he did so, the Doppelganger rushed Kitty and the two of them
disappeared.
"NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNnnnnnnnnnnnooooooooooo!" Kurt screamed, but
he had no idea where the beast went.
~
_Think! Think!_ There were hundreds of little places where nobody
went, where nobody could see him 'port. Kurt knew them all. He bamfed
through all fifty of them, staying only long enough to make certain the
monster wasn't there before he 'ported away again.
He finished up in his room, which had been tidied up in his absence.
Well, almost tidied up.
Curt had been there, and left a little calling card.
Very few people knew about 'Schmerzmann', the little doll Mama had
made him because Kurt as a small child was uncommunicative when he was
hurt. He refused to identify pain on any other doll because it *wasn't*
'just like him'. Schmerzmann came with Kurt to America, ostensibly for
luck, but mostly for the nightmares and the times when he felt
incredibly homesick.
Schmerzmann was now hanging by his neck from the chandallier. Curt had
hung Kurt in effigy.
Kurt sighed. _Cute. Real cute. You're not going to get away with it,
you bastard. You're not going to get away with anything. Not while I
live and breathe._
He needed a better plan.
Of course.
Cerebro.
Kurt bamfed into the massive computer's room and searched for Kitty.
Her power took longer than a few seconds to work, and would be easier to
trace than the bastard wearing his face.
There she was, in close proximity to another mutant. Evidently, there
were a few more places where nobody went that the Doppelganger knew
about.
Kurt could find that place. A few quick bamfs had him armed once more,
with a spare weapon for Kitty. Then, the coup de grace.
_Professor! I think Kitty's in trouble. Where is she?_
_One moment,_ came the Professor's reply. Kurt was still 'connected',
and could feel his mentor searching. The wave of shock hit hard.
_There's -- *two* of you?_
_Get the team there. I have to stop him._
A flash of smoke and light, and he was facing the monster again.
Kitty was woozy and confused. Kurt still tossed the tranquilliser gun
at her with a quick, "When you get the chance, shoot us both!"
Then he tossed the other sword to his double. "En guarde, monster."
Curt caught it, holding it as expertly as Kurt did. "Ha. You should
talk. Freak."
Their swords clashed. Any other day, Kurt would have been glad of the
opportunity to fence. Today, lives were at stake, he was already tired
from 'porting so often, and Kitty had dropped the gun with a girlish
scream.
"EW! Like, guns are like, *evil*!"
_Heaven help me._ "It's a tranquilliser gun, Katzchen," Kurt told her.
"Both barrels are loaded. All you have to do is aim and fire. You won't
hurt us."
"No?" said the Doppelganger. "What about our high metabolism? Did you
think about that?"
"Not really," said Kurt. He got past Curt's guard and cut his watch
off his wrist. As expected, the Doppelganger remained human. "But I'd
rather be dead than have *you* around, hurting people in my name."
"It's *my* name, du Trottel!"
"Ja? Well, mine's the *good* name, du Damonfischeier!"
"Scheissekopf!"
"Ungewohnliches Erscheinen!"
The blades flashed, the insults flew. Kitty was screaming at them to
stop it, please. She was crying.
Curt took advantage and got a blow in. Kurt barely deflected it in
time. First blood went to the Doppelganger.
"Dankeshoen, monster," Kurt menaced, licking the spilled blood off his
hand. The wound in his side bled freely, unnoticed. "I needed a wake-up
call. I was starting to get bored with you."
"*Bored*?" the Doppelganger redoubled his efforts. "I'll show you
*boring*!"
He was angry. He wasn't thinking clearly. Just the advantage Kurt
needed. He gave the Doppelganger a matching wound, then a tiny slice
across one cheek. Perhaps it would scar. Give the double a permanent
difference from him.
Kitty was so confused. There were two Kurts. One blue and fuzzy and
the other pink and normal-looking. She didn't know which one was which.
Kurt had turned up at her door, just a few minutes ago, urging her to
come see what he'd found in the basement. It was proof, he'd said, of
his double's existance.
The whole mansion knew about Kurt's 'trouble', his little identity
crisis. Word had gone out around the mansion within seconds of him
attacking the Professor. It was all anyone could talk about.
Therefore, Kitty had humoured him and gone along to see the 'monster's
lair'. She didn't understand why he had to steer her along by one arm,
or why he was acting so - creepy.
Then it hit her. He was talking to her as his other self. The dark,
icky side. It made her so mad that she could be fooled. It made her even
more mad to be dragged along by him and not see a flicker of the Kurt
she knew.
And then, to top it all off, things got *really* strange. There was a
wierd animal howling that scared her to pieces and all of a sudden there
were *two* Kurts. One human, one demon; fighting each other with levels
of savagery she hadn't known had existed. She hadn't known which one to
hurt, which one to help; so she just picked the one that looked the
meanest and kicked with all her might.
He bamfed away, then the other Kurt was on her and -blink- they were
here.
"You're coming with me, Geliebter," said Kurt. "I need you for
insurance."
The words didn't make sense to her. Nothing made sense to her. She was
so dizzy and sick and she just wanted to lie down until it all went
away. She'd never felt this bad after a teleport.
Then the other one was there and they were fighting with swords and
hurling insults at each other in German and -- EW! She was holding a
*gun*!
Kitty dropped it without thinking, and tried desperately to figure out
which Kurt she should be rooting for.
The demonic fuzzy one was looking wild and stressed. Worried and
frantic. The other one had every confidence that he would win.
Fuzzy wanted her to shoot them, but the other one remembered the
severe effects any anaesthetic had on him - them. Fuzzy didn't care. He
just wanted everyone else to be safe.
*That* was her Kurt.
Trembling, Kitty tried to reach for the gun. She hated guns. Guns
killed. She didn't want to kill anyone.
_Get a grip,_ said a voice inside her head. To Kitty's infinite
surprise, it was her. _Things are only going to get worse if you let it
go. Look, they're both bleeding._
Kitty looked. This time, really using her eyes, just like Logan said.
She saw a clunky sports watch on the ground, its wrist-band was cut.
Which meant that neither Kurt was wearing a holowatch right now.
She picked up the gun and took aim.
~
Kitty took aim. Though she had never fired a gun before, the proximity
between her and the one that she wanted to shoot was so close that her
lack of use barely mattered. The Doppelganger, at that moment, pushed
Kurt violently backwards gloating in his triumph, but then he saw his
error.
Kitty took the shot and it hit, but the process for the victim to fall
was not at all as quickly as she would have expected Kurt to go down.
But when he fell finally, Kitty knew that it wasn't Kurt and was
relieved.
Now, a little late for the exchange, it seemed that everyone in the
institute was there ready to pat Kurt and Kitty on the back. It might
have seemed an almost normal situation had Wolverine restrained from
saying, "You did alright kid, an' I though ya were gettin' rusty."
Kurt stopped. Wolverine seemed to know and it seemed to much of a
coincidence that all of the institute, save for Kitty, seemed to know.
~ The scenery faded away, revealling the gunmetal grey of the
Institute's Danger room.~
"That's right Kurt, this was a training excercise," the Professor
stated. "To see if you could trust more upon your intellect under
pressure and not so much-"
"Dumb luck!" Someone supplied.
Now Kurt was angry, but he quelled such feelings because he was so
relieved that people would again talk to him. He was also curious about
how Kitty did not know what was going on. "Why didn't Kitty-"
"Realism." the Professor stated, with one word. "Now I suggest you get
some rest, you are exausted and you have school tomorrow. Kitty, if I
could have a word with you."
Kurt went to his room, but something about the atmosphere had changed.
All of his senses were telling him something. Somehow, Kurt felt that
the creation of the test had realeased something. He didn't know from
where, or if it was him. He just felt it.
Climbing into bed, Kurt noticed a slice of paper folded on his pillow.
It read: Congratulations, but I'm going to do the same to you as you
have done to me.
~The End?~