Family Ties:
Chapter 1
A/N: OK, let's get this over with...*deep breath*
I.
DON'T
OWN.
X-MEN EVOLUTION.
If I did, it'd be on everyday, I'd have a Kurt plushy (dear sweet Lord, why
isn't there one yet!?!?), and all the episodes on VHS. Also, do take note
that I haven't seen this show in...how long has it been now? Never mind,
it's just been a long time. This is also my first X-MEN fic, so please turn
a blind eye at any mistakes I make. I swear I'll get better!
*****
The rain shower poured down relentlessly on the streets of Bayville, soaking everything unlucky enough to be caught in it. No one could be seen walking the avenue, save for a cloaked figure. She brought the overcoat up further, shivering in the cold of the rain and the night.
Gazing forward, her eyes weary and carrying scars of past pains, she could see the local Institute, for presumably "gifted" youngsters. She let a thin smile cross her face, though at the moment, she had nothing to smile about. "Just vhat kind of youngsters, I vonder?" she pondered aloud, her deep, silky voice tinted with a German accent. Pulling her coat more tightly to her soaking body, she started her soppy trek to the large building.
A man came around the corner. He looked to be about his thirties or so, give or take a year, and nearly six feet tall. His left arm was adorned with a crucifix. The woman's instant reaction was to freeze, poised to flee. When the other made no move to even notice her, she relaxed, but made sure she could still bolt if she was forced to that. In a world like this, one couldn't afford to be careless, even in a minute town like this.
The two strangers passed by each other, not speaking a word, and she allowed a relieved sigh to escape her lips. Half a second later, she felt a strong forearm wrap around her throat and a handgun pressed to her back, in the perfect position to shoot a 9mm shell right through her heart. "Hiya, pretty lady!" said the man in a rough voice. His breath reeked of booze and drugs. When she twisted her eyes to meet his, she could see they were glassy, unfocused. "Whatcha got in your coat, huh? Maybe a purse with lotsa and lotsa money? Huh?"
He pressed the gun harder into her back and tightened the hold around her throat. She involuntarily gasped for air, feeling her body begin to panic.
"Well?" He poked her again, making her wince. "You got some dough for Tony?" He laughed, a hard, guttural sound, like a bear growling. He began to laugh so hard that he threw his head back, howling at how clever he was to catch this lady with money in her jacket. In between his hooting and hollering, he released her and removed the gun.
Thus giving his "helpless" victim to turn around and, with the swiftness only a few athletes had been able to perfect, nail him with a kick right in his overly-large gut. The drunkard groaned, let out a sound like air being let out of a balloon, and fell to the ground with a particularly loud thud. "You wretch," Tony yelled from the ground, clutching his beer-belly in pain.
"You poet, you," said the woman lightly. For the first time in his besotted stunt, Tony looked up at her eyes, and was horrified. They were normal enough; white, with irises that were gray, the deep gray of the thunderclouds overhead...until you saw her pupils. They burned a mad red, like her eyeballs were on fire within.
The top of her hood had fallen from her face, giving Tony his very first glance at a demon. Her skin, a dim lavender, was darkened further by the night, giving her the appearance that she was cloaked in shadow. Her hair was down to her knees, pulled back into a series of repeating ponytails with dark black ribbons. The ears, extended out to their fullest, remotely resembled those of a horse or an elf. She made a nasty smile at him, showing him that every single tooth in her skull was as pointed as a lion's. When the demon reached down for him and yanked him up by his arm, Tony saw that she had no thumbs and only two long, slender fingers on each hand, and that she was covered from head to foot with a dark indigo, velvety fur.
He let out a hoarse yell for help and went for the gun that lay on the sidewalk. A tail with forks at the end, making it look like she had a hand- sized ace of spades on her tail, intercepted him and snatched up the weapon as easily as a hand would. Before Tony could react, he found himself face- to-barrel with his own pistol.
"You find it funny to rob innocents of their hard-earned money?" said the she-demon calmly, her eyes staring down at him with those god-awful, fiery pupils. "You are überdrüssig ."
The forked tail began to pull the trigger back. Tony whimpered, tears streaming down his face. "Are you going to leave me and others alone?" the she-demon demanded.
"Yes, YES!" screamed Tony, waving his hands. "I swear, I'll NEVER do it again, lady! Just don't shoot!"
The she-demon paused, her eyes narrowing in crafty speculation. With a crack like a whip, the tail spun the handgun to a store nearly two blocks away.
"Leave, scum," the she-demon said. When Tony didn't move, for fear he was only playing with him, she cracked her tail along the ground, emitting another crack. "I SAID LEAVE!" she roared. Wings as long as a thirteen year- old child spread out, flinging her coat back. The blue-black veins stood out against the purple skin stretching from shoulder blade to wing tip. At the elbow of each wing was a hook the size of a man's ring-finger, curved and lethal.
Tony did leave, scrambling to his feet and running as fast as they could carry him. When lights began to turn on and angry murmurs began to echo around the neighborhood, the woman jerked her hood back onto her head and hastily made her way to the Institute, leaving only a pistol and confused, sleepy-eyed people behind her.
*****
"Kurt!" screeched Kitty as she stomped her way into the entrance room of the Institute. In one clenched fist was an empty bag of chips. Jerking her gaze around, she found no sign of the menace who had eaten all of HER private stash of sweets. "KUUUUUURT! You get your furry, elfy, blue butt in here!"
His characteristic sound of bamf was heard, a small puff of smoke appeared, and, in a clap of light, Kurt stood in front of her in all of his blue- furred glory. "Vhat?" he asked innocently.
"I'll tell you what!" Kitty yelled at him, her face flushing with fury. She held up her piece of evidence. "You ate my chips again! And after I told you not to!"
"I did not!" protested Kurt, putting a three-digit hand to his chest, miming great hurt. "I am 'urt, Kitty, that you think I ate your stash."
Kitty opened her mouth, preparing another yell, when the sound of a wheelchair interrupted her. "What is going on here?" Xavier demanded, Storm right behind him.
"Kurt ate my chips again!" Kitty said as calmly as she could, knowing it wouldn't get her anywhere to yell at the professor. Flashing the empty bag at him, she said, "And I specifically told him not to!"
"Is this true, Kurt?" Storm asked.
"Vell..." Kurt tried to rub his large toes into the carpet. "Mayve one or two, but -"
"Ah-HA!" cried Kitty.
"Kitty, please," Xavier said, raising a hand. Turning his attention back to Kurt, he asked, "Kurt, would you come with me?"
Kurt nodded and obediently followed Xavier's wheelchair into the kitchen. Storm and Kitty watched him go, Kitty with a smug look on her face, and Storm a stern look on hers at the one on Kitty's.
The doorbell chimed, making both of them jump. "Who could that be?" asked Kitty.
Storm made her way to the door, Kitty trailing behind her. "I don't know. It's awful late to be having visitors."
She opened the door to reveal a hooded, soaking-wet figure on the door- step. It was very dark outside, and all that Kitty and Storm could see of their visitor's face was a pair of stormy-grey eyes with (at least, Storm thought they were) flaming red pupils. But then again, her eyes could have been playing tricks on her.
"Oh, hello," Storm said, quick to regain her manners. She held the door open and gestured for the visitant to come in. "Would you like to come in?"
The visitor paused, then walked slowly inside. The drops of water soaked the burgundy carpets as the visitor gazed at their new surroundings. Apparently, they were impressed.
Before Storm could get a word in, Kitty blurted out, "Hi! Who are you, and why are you here so late at night?"
The visitor whirled on them, water droplets flinging at them. Even in the light, neither Kitty or Storm could see any features of their guest, save the eyes. Storm was now most definitely sure that the pupils were red. It startled her the slightest bit, and she wondered if she was meeting a new mutant. But how could a new mutant have appeared without Cerebro picking up them up?
The newcomer didn't answer Kitty at first, slightly suspicious. Finally, they said with tint of a German accent in their strong but soft voice, "I am Rose Blanch, and I have come here in search of a lost sibling." Their voice sounded soft, the kind more suited to low whispers, but it had a tone of steel to it, like they had been through very hard times.
"Oh?" That certainly took both Storm and Kitty by surprise. After a few moments of shock, Storm managed to say, "And who are you looking for? A student here?"
The visitor began to answer, but that was when Kurt teleported into the room. Seeing the visitor, he stopped dead in his tracks, a chip bag in his hands. "Uh-oh."
Letting out a small gasp, the visitor collapsed and was caught by Storm. Kurt frowned. He'd done this before, scaring people into a fright. But, still, he was slightly worried about the newcomer. "Is she alright?" he asked as he loped over.
"I'm not sure," said Storm. "Kitty, go get Professor Xavier. Quick."
Kitty raced off to find the professor. Storm and Kurt gently lifted the visitor onto the couch. Despite the heavy coat, they were amazingly light and easy to carry. "We need to see their face," murmured Storm, pulling back the hood. Once it was fully removed, they both gasped in shock.
Kurt was face-to-face with himself. *****
"Are there any records on her?"
Xavier looked up from the computer. "None, Ororo."
Storm sighed and went back to their patient. The cloak had been removed and replaced with a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. Her long, forked tail hung off the edge of the table, swaying slightly. She was breathing normally, her chest rising and falling gently. Her wings had been spread out and were resting on two nearby chairs.
Both turned at the sound of skin smudging on glass. Nearly half the student body had their faces pressed to the windows of the medical bay. Although the sound-proof glass made it nearly impossible, Storm could swear that she heard them fighting over the best spots.
Xavier let a small grin cross his face and turned back to the computer. "Ah, here's what I was looking for." A window came up, showing the all-too familiar twisting strand of DNA.
"What are you looking for?"
A second, smaller window came up. It showed all of the names and heritages of every student and teacher in the building. "You said she came looking for a relative, correct?" Storm nodded. "I am comparing DNA and see who is the closest match to our new friend."
The window scrolled its way down, rejecting every student from A to V. When it finally stopped, only one match was found:
Kurt Wagner.
"Kurt?" Logan had managed to wrestle past the entire student body and was looking over Xavier's head at the screen. Looking over at the patient on the medical table, he said, "She and the elf sure do look an awful lot alike, if ya look over the wings."
"Yes..." Xavier leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin. "But how? An aunt? No, too young. Sister? Quite possibly. Even..." He paused dramatically, thinking over his next word. "Mother?"
"I thought that Mystique was his mother," Logan grunted.
"Yes...but their DNA is almost completely alike. She is a very close relative. Most likely an elder sister." Xavier turned from the computer and wheeled his way over to the unconscious Rose. "But why...how?" He gently placed his hands on her head, her soft hair twisting around his fingers like violet ivy vines. He opened his mind like he had done innumerable times before, into the psyche of one Rose Blanch.
*****
Germany...home...
A castle, like the ones from the Mediaeval Age. The kettledrum of thunder can be heard easily, the lightning blinding as it races across a darkened sky. But since I've lived with it for nearly six years now, I am quite used to it.
Someone screaming. "What did you do to him?" My mother...dear Mother...
She runs past me, holding a squalling bundle. Mother grabs my arm, jerking me up and holding me tight. She's crying. I can only latch my tail around her arms and hold on to her woolen cloak.
Someone behind me roars. Magneto, that man Mother worked for. He's running after us. I begin to cry in fear.
Mother keeps running.
An old bridge. The boards are rotting, filled with holes where termites and other bugs have eaten through them.
Wolves. Huge, snarling, drooling wolves. They bite at Mother, tearing pieces of her robe. I cry louder, so does my brother.
Suddenly, he is gone. My brother is gone, falling...falling...Mother screams, and so do I.
The board under me breaks. I scream again, this time in fear instead of mourning. Falling...falling...
Water, pressing in everywhere. I panic, trying to breath, and almost drown. Tiny wings flap desperately, trying to fly in the liquid.
I reach the surface, where I cough and gasp and scream. "Mother! Mother!" More coughing, more gasping, but no more screaming. A plank from the bridge floats nearby. I grab onto it, vomiting out all the water in my body.
I can hear my brother. He's crying, lying on the shore, where the river put him. The wolves again, snapping their salivating jaws as they close in on my little brother. I yell at them and throw a stick in the water at them. It hits one and they run away, scared of my screaming.
I try to get to shore like my brother did. But the rapids are quickening, and I am too weak. I can only grab my brother and hold onto the wood as we drift away...
A woman screams. I wake up and see a lady running to a cottage in a meadow, just outside the bank of the river I'm still in. A man comes out and the woman points to me. They both run over, looking alarmed. "Der Dämon!," they call me. "Demon!"
I am just as scared of them as they are of me as I tremble in fear and cold, lying on my belly on the beach of the river. Then I realize.
Pushing hard, I show them my brother. They gasp, then realize that I am only a child, and that he is only a baby. The woman bends down and picks him up, cradling him and quieting his wails.
The man looks down at me. I can see it in his eyes. I am dying. I know it. He knows it. Strange...when I met my first normal human, I was dying. "His name?" the man asks quietly, knowing I have little time left. I want to curse, to pray, to cry, to be brave, but I can only lay there and wither away.
"...K...Kurt..." The river takes me. I loose my grip on the rocks and they watch me float away in the river. My last sight is them holding Kurt and taking him home with them.
Many...many days later. Or was it weeks? I can not remember...
I wake up, just under the bridge of a town by the name of Blanch. I live there for years, living off of stolen food and drinking scummy river water, hiding from a world that will never know me. I never had a last name, I was only Rose. So I become Rose of Blanch.
Rose Blanch.
I then join a circus as a side-show freak, later an acrobat, famed for my extreme flexibility and superior agility, but shunned for my frightening appearance.
I do not mind. It only brings me closer to my goal.
Finding Kurt and Mother again.
*****
Xavier released Rose. "I see..."
"Well? What did you see?" Storm asked. Even Logan seemed interested, leaning against the computer console.
"She is, indeed, Rose Blanch. Twenty-five years old, she is native to German...and she is Kurt's elder sister." He paused, recovering from the awful memories he had just experienced. "She also fell into the river the same night that Kurt did. She thought she was dying, and so gave Kurt to the Wagners. She's been part of the circuses for years now, only having recently raised enough money to come to America and find Kurt." A stunned silence filled the room. Even the students outside were hushed, though they had not heard a word of the conversation. The only sound that was heard was the repeating of Rose's breathing.
"She's...remarkable," Xavier said calmly to break the silence. "I expected to find a person who was tormented by her appearance, much like Kurt, but not Rose. It was completely the other way around; she's one of the most stable, secure, and strong people I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. She's surprisingly very much at peace with herself, save the fact she lost her family."
"Should we go tell Kurt now?" Storm ventured.
"No, let's wait until Rose blesses us with her presence."
*****
The rain shower poured down relentlessly on the streets of Bayville, soaking everything unlucky enough to be caught in it. No one could be seen walking the avenue, save for a cloaked figure. She brought the overcoat up further, shivering in the cold of the rain and the night.
Gazing forward, her eyes weary and carrying scars of past pains, she could see the local Institute, for presumably "gifted" youngsters. She let a thin smile cross her face, though at the moment, she had nothing to smile about. "Just vhat kind of youngsters, I vonder?" she pondered aloud, her deep, silky voice tinted with a German accent. Pulling her coat more tightly to her soaking body, she started her soppy trek to the large building.
A man came around the corner. He looked to be about his thirties or so, give or take a year, and nearly six feet tall. His left arm was adorned with a crucifix. The woman's instant reaction was to freeze, poised to flee. When the other made no move to even notice her, she relaxed, but made sure she could still bolt if she was forced to that. In a world like this, one couldn't afford to be careless, even in a minute town like this.
The two strangers passed by each other, not speaking a word, and she allowed a relieved sigh to escape her lips. Half a second later, she felt a strong forearm wrap around her throat and a handgun pressed to her back, in the perfect position to shoot a 9mm shell right through her heart. "Hiya, pretty lady!" said the man in a rough voice. His breath reeked of booze and drugs. When she twisted her eyes to meet his, she could see they were glassy, unfocused. "Whatcha got in your coat, huh? Maybe a purse with lotsa and lotsa money? Huh?"
He pressed the gun harder into her back and tightened the hold around her throat. She involuntarily gasped for air, feeling her body begin to panic.
"Well?" He poked her again, making her wince. "You got some dough for Tony?" He laughed, a hard, guttural sound, like a bear growling. He began to laugh so hard that he threw his head back, howling at how clever he was to catch this lady with money in her jacket. In between his hooting and hollering, he released her and removed the gun.
Thus giving his "helpless" victim to turn around and, with the swiftness only a few athletes had been able to perfect, nail him with a kick right in his overly-large gut. The drunkard groaned, let out a sound like air being let out of a balloon, and fell to the ground with a particularly loud thud. "You wretch," Tony yelled from the ground, clutching his beer-belly in pain.
"You poet, you," said the woman lightly. For the first time in his besotted stunt, Tony looked up at her eyes, and was horrified. They were normal enough; white, with irises that were gray, the deep gray of the thunderclouds overhead...until you saw her pupils. They burned a mad red, like her eyeballs were on fire within.
The top of her hood had fallen from her face, giving Tony his very first glance at a demon. Her skin, a dim lavender, was darkened further by the night, giving her the appearance that she was cloaked in shadow. Her hair was down to her knees, pulled back into a series of repeating ponytails with dark black ribbons. The ears, extended out to their fullest, remotely resembled those of a horse or an elf. She made a nasty smile at him, showing him that every single tooth in her skull was as pointed as a lion's. When the demon reached down for him and yanked him up by his arm, Tony saw that she had no thumbs and only two long, slender fingers on each hand, and that she was covered from head to foot with a dark indigo, velvety fur.
He let out a hoarse yell for help and went for the gun that lay on the sidewalk. A tail with forks at the end, making it look like she had a hand- sized ace of spades on her tail, intercepted him and snatched up the weapon as easily as a hand would. Before Tony could react, he found himself face- to-barrel with his own pistol.
"You find it funny to rob innocents of their hard-earned money?" said the she-demon calmly, her eyes staring down at him with those god-awful, fiery pupils. "You are überdrüssig ."
The forked tail began to pull the trigger back. Tony whimpered, tears streaming down his face. "Are you going to leave me and others alone?" the she-demon demanded.
"Yes, YES!" screamed Tony, waving his hands. "I swear, I'll NEVER do it again, lady! Just don't shoot!"
The she-demon paused, her eyes narrowing in crafty speculation. With a crack like a whip, the tail spun the handgun to a store nearly two blocks away.
"Leave, scum," the she-demon said. When Tony didn't move, for fear he was only playing with him, she cracked her tail along the ground, emitting another crack. "I SAID LEAVE!" she roared. Wings as long as a thirteen year- old child spread out, flinging her coat back. The blue-black veins stood out against the purple skin stretching from shoulder blade to wing tip. At the elbow of each wing was a hook the size of a man's ring-finger, curved and lethal.
Tony did leave, scrambling to his feet and running as fast as they could carry him. When lights began to turn on and angry murmurs began to echo around the neighborhood, the woman jerked her hood back onto her head and hastily made her way to the Institute, leaving only a pistol and confused, sleepy-eyed people behind her.
*****
"Kurt!" screeched Kitty as she stomped her way into the entrance room of the Institute. In one clenched fist was an empty bag of chips. Jerking her gaze around, she found no sign of the menace who had eaten all of HER private stash of sweets. "KUUUUUURT! You get your furry, elfy, blue butt in here!"
His characteristic sound of bamf was heard, a small puff of smoke appeared, and, in a clap of light, Kurt stood in front of her in all of his blue- furred glory. "Vhat?" he asked innocently.
"I'll tell you what!" Kitty yelled at him, her face flushing with fury. She held up her piece of evidence. "You ate my chips again! And after I told you not to!"
"I did not!" protested Kurt, putting a three-digit hand to his chest, miming great hurt. "I am 'urt, Kitty, that you think I ate your stash."
Kitty opened her mouth, preparing another yell, when the sound of a wheelchair interrupted her. "What is going on here?" Xavier demanded, Storm right behind him.
"Kurt ate my chips again!" Kitty said as calmly as she could, knowing it wouldn't get her anywhere to yell at the professor. Flashing the empty bag at him, she said, "And I specifically told him not to!"
"Is this true, Kurt?" Storm asked.
"Vell..." Kurt tried to rub his large toes into the carpet. "Mayve one or two, but -"
"Ah-HA!" cried Kitty.
"Kitty, please," Xavier said, raising a hand. Turning his attention back to Kurt, he asked, "Kurt, would you come with me?"
Kurt nodded and obediently followed Xavier's wheelchair into the kitchen. Storm and Kitty watched him go, Kitty with a smug look on her face, and Storm a stern look on hers at the one on Kitty's.
The doorbell chimed, making both of them jump. "Who could that be?" asked Kitty.
Storm made her way to the door, Kitty trailing behind her. "I don't know. It's awful late to be having visitors."
She opened the door to reveal a hooded, soaking-wet figure on the door- step. It was very dark outside, and all that Kitty and Storm could see of their visitor's face was a pair of stormy-grey eyes with (at least, Storm thought they were) flaming red pupils. But then again, her eyes could have been playing tricks on her.
"Oh, hello," Storm said, quick to regain her manners. She held the door open and gestured for the visitant to come in. "Would you like to come in?"
The visitor paused, then walked slowly inside. The drops of water soaked the burgundy carpets as the visitor gazed at their new surroundings. Apparently, they were impressed.
Before Storm could get a word in, Kitty blurted out, "Hi! Who are you, and why are you here so late at night?"
The visitor whirled on them, water droplets flinging at them. Even in the light, neither Kitty or Storm could see any features of their guest, save the eyes. Storm was now most definitely sure that the pupils were red. It startled her the slightest bit, and she wondered if she was meeting a new mutant. But how could a new mutant have appeared without Cerebro picking up them up?
The newcomer didn't answer Kitty at first, slightly suspicious. Finally, they said with tint of a German accent in their strong but soft voice, "I am Rose Blanch, and I have come here in search of a lost sibling." Their voice sounded soft, the kind more suited to low whispers, but it had a tone of steel to it, like they had been through very hard times.
"Oh?" That certainly took both Storm and Kitty by surprise. After a few moments of shock, Storm managed to say, "And who are you looking for? A student here?"
The visitor began to answer, but that was when Kurt teleported into the room. Seeing the visitor, he stopped dead in his tracks, a chip bag in his hands. "Uh-oh."
Letting out a small gasp, the visitor collapsed and was caught by Storm. Kurt frowned. He'd done this before, scaring people into a fright. But, still, he was slightly worried about the newcomer. "Is she alright?" he asked as he loped over.
"I'm not sure," said Storm. "Kitty, go get Professor Xavier. Quick."
Kitty raced off to find the professor. Storm and Kurt gently lifted the visitor onto the couch. Despite the heavy coat, they were amazingly light and easy to carry. "We need to see their face," murmured Storm, pulling back the hood. Once it was fully removed, they both gasped in shock.
Kurt was face-to-face with himself. *****
"Are there any records on her?"
Xavier looked up from the computer. "None, Ororo."
Storm sighed and went back to their patient. The cloak had been removed and replaced with a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. Her long, forked tail hung off the edge of the table, swaying slightly. She was breathing normally, her chest rising and falling gently. Her wings had been spread out and were resting on two nearby chairs.
Both turned at the sound of skin smudging on glass. Nearly half the student body had their faces pressed to the windows of the medical bay. Although the sound-proof glass made it nearly impossible, Storm could swear that she heard them fighting over the best spots.
Xavier let a small grin cross his face and turned back to the computer. "Ah, here's what I was looking for." A window came up, showing the all-too familiar twisting strand of DNA.
"What are you looking for?"
A second, smaller window came up. It showed all of the names and heritages of every student and teacher in the building. "You said she came looking for a relative, correct?" Storm nodded. "I am comparing DNA and see who is the closest match to our new friend."
The window scrolled its way down, rejecting every student from A to V. When it finally stopped, only one match was found:
Kurt Wagner.
"Kurt?" Logan had managed to wrestle past the entire student body and was looking over Xavier's head at the screen. Looking over at the patient on the medical table, he said, "She and the elf sure do look an awful lot alike, if ya look over the wings."
"Yes..." Xavier leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin. "But how? An aunt? No, too young. Sister? Quite possibly. Even..." He paused dramatically, thinking over his next word. "Mother?"
"I thought that Mystique was his mother," Logan grunted.
"Yes...but their DNA is almost completely alike. She is a very close relative. Most likely an elder sister." Xavier turned from the computer and wheeled his way over to the unconscious Rose. "But why...how?" He gently placed his hands on her head, her soft hair twisting around his fingers like violet ivy vines. He opened his mind like he had done innumerable times before, into the psyche of one Rose Blanch.
*****
Germany...home...
A castle, like the ones from the Mediaeval Age. The kettledrum of thunder can be heard easily, the lightning blinding as it races across a darkened sky. But since I've lived with it for nearly six years now, I am quite used to it.
Someone screaming. "What did you do to him?" My mother...dear Mother...
She runs past me, holding a squalling bundle. Mother grabs my arm, jerking me up and holding me tight. She's crying. I can only latch my tail around her arms and hold on to her woolen cloak.
Someone behind me roars. Magneto, that man Mother worked for. He's running after us. I begin to cry in fear.
Mother keeps running.
An old bridge. The boards are rotting, filled with holes where termites and other bugs have eaten through them.
Wolves. Huge, snarling, drooling wolves. They bite at Mother, tearing pieces of her robe. I cry louder, so does my brother.
Suddenly, he is gone. My brother is gone, falling...falling...Mother screams, and so do I.
The board under me breaks. I scream again, this time in fear instead of mourning. Falling...falling...
Water, pressing in everywhere. I panic, trying to breath, and almost drown. Tiny wings flap desperately, trying to fly in the liquid.
I reach the surface, where I cough and gasp and scream. "Mother! Mother!" More coughing, more gasping, but no more screaming. A plank from the bridge floats nearby. I grab onto it, vomiting out all the water in my body.
I can hear my brother. He's crying, lying on the shore, where the river put him. The wolves again, snapping their salivating jaws as they close in on my little brother. I yell at them and throw a stick in the water at them. It hits one and they run away, scared of my screaming.
I try to get to shore like my brother did. But the rapids are quickening, and I am too weak. I can only grab my brother and hold onto the wood as we drift away...
A woman screams. I wake up and see a lady running to a cottage in a meadow, just outside the bank of the river I'm still in. A man comes out and the woman points to me. They both run over, looking alarmed. "Der Dämon!," they call me. "Demon!"
I am just as scared of them as they are of me as I tremble in fear and cold, lying on my belly on the beach of the river. Then I realize.
Pushing hard, I show them my brother. They gasp, then realize that I am only a child, and that he is only a baby. The woman bends down and picks him up, cradling him and quieting his wails.
The man looks down at me. I can see it in his eyes. I am dying. I know it. He knows it. Strange...when I met my first normal human, I was dying. "His name?" the man asks quietly, knowing I have little time left. I want to curse, to pray, to cry, to be brave, but I can only lay there and wither away.
"...K...Kurt..." The river takes me. I loose my grip on the rocks and they watch me float away in the river. My last sight is them holding Kurt and taking him home with them.
Many...many days later. Or was it weeks? I can not remember...
I wake up, just under the bridge of a town by the name of Blanch. I live there for years, living off of stolen food and drinking scummy river water, hiding from a world that will never know me. I never had a last name, I was only Rose. So I become Rose of Blanch.
Rose Blanch.
I then join a circus as a side-show freak, later an acrobat, famed for my extreme flexibility and superior agility, but shunned for my frightening appearance.
I do not mind. It only brings me closer to my goal.
Finding Kurt and Mother again.
*****
Xavier released Rose. "I see..."
"Well? What did you see?" Storm asked. Even Logan seemed interested, leaning against the computer console.
"She is, indeed, Rose Blanch. Twenty-five years old, she is native to German...and she is Kurt's elder sister." He paused, recovering from the awful memories he had just experienced. "She also fell into the river the same night that Kurt did. She thought she was dying, and so gave Kurt to the Wagners. She's been part of the circuses for years now, only having recently raised enough money to come to America and find Kurt." A stunned silence filled the room. Even the students outside were hushed, though they had not heard a word of the conversation. The only sound that was heard was the repeating of Rose's breathing.
"She's...remarkable," Xavier said calmly to break the silence. "I expected to find a person who was tormented by her appearance, much like Kurt, but not Rose. It was completely the other way around; she's one of the most stable, secure, and strong people I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. She's surprisingly very much at peace with herself, save the fact she lost her family."
"Should we go tell Kurt now?" Storm ventured.
"No, let's wait until Rose blesses us with her presence."