A/N: The idea for this came to me on 4-3-10. I was keeping a vigil for Easter by staying up all night and reading the Psalms. I came across Psalm 119 and began to think: What if Rogue and Nightcrawler interacted more after the X-Jet was repaired, or throughout the X2 film in general? So I sat down and wrote. This is the result of that consideration.

Tidbits:

The title comes from Psalm 22:11.

I have refrained from reading any Nightcrawler/Rogue friendship/family/whatever fics, so as to retain originality.

Also, this is my first attempt at writing any kind of accent, so please give me the benefit of the doubt. If it needs work, inform me and I'll make improvements.

Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Men comics or the movie franchise.

Enjoy!

Now that John was asleep, the fire flickered dimly in the abyss of the woods. Rogue could barely make out the dark blue form of Nightcrawler, the young man who'd saved her life when the roof of the X-Jet was torn off and she'd nearly fallen to her death.

He knelt by the flames, holding his Rosary and praying in a liquid, gutteral tongue - his native German. He crossed himself and looked up at Rogue, his yellow eyes knowing and inquisitive at the same time.

"Um...hi." Rogue couldn't help but sound nervous. His demonic appearance still threw her off a little bit.

"Hello." His quiet voice barely carried over to her.

She rocked back and forth on her heels. She'd felt compelled to talk to him, but she hadn't thought about what she would say. She settled on a conventional question. "What are you doin' still up?"

He lowered his head. "I vas just praying...tzat ve can make it out of tzis alive. All of us." His scarred face was forlorn.

"Even Magneto and Mystique?" She gestured to their tents, over on the other side of the little camp. She sat down beside him.

"Yes. No von deserves to die tze vay ve might. Not even tzem. Und besides, tzeir vision is admirable. Perhaps tzey just need to be pointed in tze right direction." He turned back to her. "Und you? Vhy are you still avake?"

She shrugged. "Can't sleep. I'm just worried, I guess. I mean, what if we can't do it? What if we do all die?" The looming possibility was terrible, but one that had to be faced. She pinched the bridge of her nose. "I couldn't lose anyone like that, especially Bobby." She gazed back at her slumbering boyfriend.

"Bobby...tze Iceman, right?"

Rogue nodded.

Nightcrawler was quiet for a moment. "He cares about you a lot. He vould hate to see you get hurt."

Rogue couldn't help but think that he noticed more than he was willing to let on. "Yeah, I guess." She looked to him again.

His eyes were sorrowful. "Tzat's good. You need somevon like tzat who is vorthy of you." He paused. "I tzought I had somevon. But she vas never mine to claim. I suppose I'll have to learn to get by vithout. I mean, who could vant to be vit somevon like me?" He smiled ruefully. "Ich bin ein minion des Teufels."

She frowned. "You'll find somebody one day," she disagreed. "You're too good not to."

His pointed ears perked up. "Danke."

She knew enough German for that one. "You're welcome."

He patted her hand with his spaded tail, and chuckled when she flinched slightly. He stared at her with intense eyes. "Do you feel as tzough your powver is a curse?"

She looked at her gloved hands. "Every day."

Very gently, he took her hand in both of his. Reverently, he whispered, " 'Tzy hands made me und formed me; give me understanding, and I vill learn Tzy commandments.'*"

She thought about that, but could not decipher any significant meaning. "What does that mean?" she asked.

"It means tzat ve all serve a purpose," he told her. "God made us all tze vay ve are for a reason. If ve trust in Him, tzen ve vill do tze best vit vhat ve have, und ve vill be happy." He fingered the hem of his sleeve. His scars were more noticeable when thrown into definition by the small amount of light, she saw.

"What are they?" She touched her own face to illustrate what she meant.

Understanding flashed across his features. "Tzey are symbols tze archangel Gabriel gave to mankind."

She studied him for a second, taking in the angelic figures. "How many of them are there?"

The corner of his mouth tugged upward a little. "Tzey match my sins in number," he said.

She put two and two together. "So you did them yourself?" The spoken words betrayed her thoughts, forming a question rather than a statement.

He nodded once. "Yes."

They were silent for a moment. Then she queried, "Can you do that again?"

"Do vhat?" he responded.

"Recite some verses." She didn't mention it, but the sound of his voice speaking the words of the Bible was comforting.

He glanced upward, considering. " 'God is our refuge und strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Tzerefore ve vill not fear, tzough tze earth give vay und tze mountains fall into tze heart of tze sea, tzough its vaters roar und foam und tze mountains qvake vit tzeir surging. Tzere is a river whose streams make glad tze city of God, tze holy place vhere tze Most High dvells. God is vithin her, she vill not fall; God vill help her at break of day. Nations are in uproar, kingdoms fall; He lifts His voice, tze earth melts. Tze Lord Almighty is vit us; tze God of Jacob is our fortress.'**"

She reflected on that for a bit. Then she said, "If we do die...are you afraid?"

"Afraid of dying? To be honest vit you, yes. But afraid of vhat might happen after? No. I am not." His voice held a firm conviction.

She frowned, confused. "Why not?"

"Because I have faith in tze existence of Heaven," he explained. " 'For God so loved tze vorld tzat He gave His only begotten Son, tzat whosoever believeth in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.'***"

"That's really nice." She smiled and stood. He joined her. "Thanks, Nightcrawler."

"You're velcome, Rogue," he replied. "Und call me Kurt."

She shifted her weight. "Okay...You can call me Marie." No longer feeling nervous, she wrapped her arms around him and carefully hugged him, making sure that their skin didn't touch. "Goodnight, Kurt."

He returned the embrace heartfeltedly. He seemed to truly appreciate the gesture. When he wrapped his arms around her, she felt an unusual connection pass between them, almost like he was family. "Gute Nacht, Marie, liebchen," he murmured.

Marie stepped back and, in a concentrated haze of navy blue smoke, Kurt disappeared. She turned to see him hanging from a tree branch by his tail. His eyes were closed and his face possessed an innocent serenity.

Her heart warmed. Then she put out the fire and prepared to sleep. She decided that out of all the people she'd ever met, the man who looked like a blue demon reminded her the most of an angel.

A/N: And there you go. I put a lot of heart into this, and I hope you felt that and liked it.

Bible references:

*=Psalm 119:73

**=Psalm 46:1-7

***=John 3:16

German phrases:

"Ich bin ein minion des Teufels."="I am a minion of the Devil."

"Gute Nacht, Marie, liebchen."="Good night, Marie, sweetheart." ("Liebchen" can also mean "dearest.")

Reviews are greatly appreciated!