You'll Never Understand
~Okay. . .The sorta-awaited sequel of 'New Mutant Detected'! *half-hearted cheering* I just want to mention that this one takes place at the institute, sorta A/U. . .Lets just say that the world knows of mutants (they have rights), but mutants are still pretty prejudiced against. The school knows that Kurt's a teleporter, but doesn't know of his 'true' self.~
Disclaimer: As always, if I owned it, it wouldn't be here. . . It'd probably be on TV, as I've said. *rolls eyes*
[this] is German
'this' is thought
*** *** ***
Smoke, rising, framing a writhing blue figure.
Flames, licking the figure's oddly-shaped feet.
A crowd, shouting in German.
"[Demon!]"
"[Hell-spawn!]"
"[Go back from whence you came!]"
"[Devil!]"
"[Demon!]"
The smell of burning fur. . .
A small voice. . .
"[. . .I'm not a demon. . .]"
{BAMF!}
"Ich bin kein Dämon!" Kurt Wagner shouted as he sat bolt upright in his bed. The early morning sun, just rising, peeked into the room through a small crack in the window drapes.
The young mutant panted quietly as he sat in his bed, thinking.
Scheiße.
It was happening again.
The nightmares. . .No. . . Memories.
He guessed it was because of the entire 'mutie-baiting' thing, going on at school.
Yes, it even had a name.
. . .Yet no-one tried to stop it.
Before they were revealed, he was Kurt Wagner, weird German exchange student.
Now, he didn't have a name. He was either 'freak', 'mutie', 'teleporting-freak', or 'teleporting-mutie'. Even some of the teachers called him that.
Thank Gott it was only some.
. . .Thank Gott it was only 'teleporting', not 'demon', 'devil'. . .
The young man sighed. He had to go to school today. Nobody at the school, at least not the norms, really cared for the feelings of the 'teleporting-mutie', though, there was at least one good thing about the situation. . .
At least they weren't being burnt at the stake.
Kurt Wagner slid out of his bed and got ready for another school day.
*** *** ***
He'd made it though the day.
Barely.
His morning had been consisted of various 'accidents', arranged by the more popular teens of the school, aswell as his regular classes.
Before the first three periods, he'd already been sprayed by mud by a passing convertible, withstood in silence many kinds of verbal abuse that was illegal in many other places, been hit by various backpacks, books, and purses more times than he cared to count. . . he'd even been shoved into a locker at one point, but Lance had freed him before the jocks could lock it.
Yes, Lance.
Sure, he was Brotherhood, but all unanimities had been dropped, at least for now.
They were all mutie-freaks together.
At least he didn't have to worry about his locker being slimed by Todd every other day.
His English class had been the worst, though. It was the sole class in which he didn't share with another X-man. The teacher was a mutie-hater; he seemed to enjoy singling out Kurt for his bad grammar.
What did he expect? He'd only learnt English two years ago. . . Wasn't it enough to be fluent in four other languages?
The teacher had given him an extra essay, on top of the other essay that the rest of the class had to do aswell.
Both were do the next day.
. . . Isn't the life of a teleporting-freak fun?
At least he was 'home', now. . .
After a short Danger Room session, he was free to do his homework with the others, in the wreck room.
It was an almost tradition for the X-men to assemble in the main room and do homework together; mainly because they could almost always find somebody else to do it, better, for them.
Many of them regularly came to him for 'help' with their German homework, 'help' that usually ended up with him doing it all for them.
Now, he was sore from the whole school day, sporting several bruises from the Danger Room session, he had the beginnings of a headache, and now he looked forward to an evening of doing other people's German homework for them, on top of the two essays he already had.
Huzzah.
"So now they're like, totally not speaking to me! I mean, Trish even gave me back that totally cute blue blouse we bought together last month!"
Kurt ground his sharp teeth together against the sound of Kitty's babbling. The inklings of a headache he'd had after the Danger Room session had now grown into a full-blown migraine. Her current tirade was something about one of her friends 'not liking her anymore', and had gone on for the last fifteen minutes, steadily breaking down Kurt's patience.
At least she still had normal friends.
"She even like, ripped off half the buttons! I mean, talk about rude. . ."
He finally spoke up.
"Kätzchen?" he said slowly though still-clenched fangs. "Shut. Up."
She stopped mid-totally.
"Like, what? This is like, totally important, Kurt!"
He fought the urge to roll his eyes.
"Please don't talk of such things like the world is coming down around your ears, Kätzchen. You don't even know the meaning of prejudice."
"Oh, and like, you do? I'm like, a mutant too, you know."
Kurt snorted. "You talk of one of your friends ripping up an article of clothing. It could be far, far worse.
Kitty glared at him. "Like what?"
A pause. His eye twitched.
"Have you ever been chased, Kätzchen?"
"Chased? Like, what do you mean?"
"Chased. Chased by a mob of pitch-fork wielding peasants?" By this time, the entire room was quiet. Nobody else spoke.
"Have you ever been chased. . .for so long, you feel like your heart would burst? And you become so tired you feel like you have been running forever, but you know you cannot stop, because if you do, you will be killed and mounted like a wild boar?
"Have you ever been beaten, been tied to a stake? Been burnt until the flesh of your feet has begun to smell like a cooking steak, and you are helpless but to writhe in your own misery? And all they do is watch? Watch you suffer? Listen to your cries of pain? That is prejudice, Kätzchen. They shout out cruel words, watch the fur of your feet turn black and curl before their very eyes. . ."
He stopped his rant suddenly, and his head caught up with what he had said.
All of the X-men were staring at him, open mouthed.
"Scheiße." He muttered.
{BAMF!}
Kurt was gone.
". . . What was that, like, all about?"
They knew.
They all knew. . . His one secret. . .Well, one of his secrets.
He hadn't wanted anybody to know. . . They wouldn't understand. . . They won't understand. . .
He was perched on the roof of the institute, his long toes curled around the edge of the gutter, just staring out into the darkening sky.
The sun had gone down just minutes earlier.
Kurt just looked to the sky as small stars appeared.
At least that never changed. . . The sun always rose, the sun always set. . . The stars always came, and even though they were different from the ones at home, they were still stars.
. . .Just like he was still human. . . different, but still human.
. . .Wasn't he?
"You're human."
He turned at the voice.
Jean.
She'd just floated up here, probably to talk to him.
. . .Of course.
"You're just as human as the rest of us, Kurt. You needn't be ashamed."
His eyes narrowed.
"I'm not ashamed!" he spat, then sighed. "I'm scared."
"Scared of what?"
". . . You wouldn't understand."
"I'm a telepath. I can understand everything."
He snorted. "There are some things that even you, a powerful telepath, should never have to understand. Never should. . .Don't even try. . .Please?"
"Kurt, we'd understand, if you'd just tell us."
The teleporter stiffened, but said nothing.
"We know what you're going though."
"Gone though. And no, you don't."
A sigh.
"You'll never understand."
{BAMF!}
And there was only smoke to keep Jean company as she stared into the darkening sky. It was then that she realized, really realized, that there was much more to Kurt Wagner than anybody would have thought. He wasn't just a jokester, somebody that helped them with their German homework, somebody to that could bring them anywhere in the blink of an eye. He wasn't just a fuzzy blue elf. He had his own dark past, too.
Kurt was right.
She'll never understand.
*** *** ***
Translations:
Ich bin kein Dämon: I am not a demon.
Scheiße: Shit (*gasps* Censor! This is PG material here! O_O)
Gott: God
Kätzchen: Kitten
*** *** ***
~Man, this fic was pretty. . . descriptive, in a disturbing kind of way. . .
o_O What do you think? R'n'R! ^^ ~