I don't own the X-Men: Evolution charectors or any rights what so ever. Now
take your big bags of money and go! Sniff, sniff
"It only hurts a little (all the time)." A not for profit X-Men Evolution story set in the not too distant future by Remedy=Chill
Kurt walked down the long empty corridor of Bayville High. Life had been kind to him. Or so he told himself as often as he could. He lived in a nice place with people that really seemed to try to care about him. Even when he got double detention for arguing with Mrs. Brickman.
Of course, her answer was, technically, in the answer book listed under ANSWER.
And his answer was driven by an understanding of holographic technology that's far superior to any the world has ever seen.
So you can see the source of this confusion.
"Vie could teach her a ting or tree about phy-siks." He grumbled out loud, half startling himself. "I mus-t be tired." He concluded out loud. "I'm talking to myself."
Just then he looked up to see the principal standing in an open doorway and listening intently.
Kurt shoved his hands in to his pockets and redoubled his pace.
She simply stood there and very slowly, shook her head back and forth.
"Stu-pid Self." He grumbled as he left the building.
Scott was supposed to pick him up but the professor sent him to New Hampshire with Hank McCoy at the last minute. What Hank was going for had been the source of much speculation and rumor but nothing more believable than Jubilee's 'Space Monster' theory.
And then it happened again.
Kurt saw two people holding hands. Suddenly his hands felt too big for his pockets. The sight of all those fingers, meshing between two hands, was somehow so alien and disturbing that Kurt had to clench his fists to keep his fingers from twitching at the sight.
Of course they noticed him. Of course they looked, and of course, they watched him walk away and out of sight.
Kurt could feel the desire to mope. It was strong and seductive.
Instead he took his hands out of his pockets and looked down at them. He saw five fingers. He turned them over and still; He saw five fingers.
But he knew better.
He knew it when he was getting in and out of the shower and he would catch sight of himself in the mirror. When he was wet the smooth area's like around his eyes blended in with the fuzzy areas like his beard and sideburns. The hair and the skin color are identical and at times, especially when he's just out of the shower, he looks like a seal or a dolphin.
"Or Mystique." He winced at the thought and collected himself to begin moping. He carefully surveyed the traffic before crossing the big intersection that runs through town. Once across, he proceeded to throw himself headlong in to the mope.
"In za purfact vorld, BAMF! And home." He gestured to the heavens with his hands. Not only were his powers only strong enough to teleport him within line of sight, but then there was the whole 'Murdered by Angry Crowd Etc." (Or: M.A.C.E.) Scenario that looking like a demon somehow seems to inspire in others.
And the word rolled through his mind again "Demon."
The people at the mansion were kind. They called him an elf. He appreciated it. Appreciated a lie that masked his separation from them. Masked his true form.
But Kurt was not blind. He recalled seeing demons in 19th century woodcuts on a museum field trip. He remembered seeing his tail and hair depicted as the most obvious features of the Devil. He remembered trying desperately to steer Kitty and the others away. So that they would not see them.
And he remembered how he failed.
He remembered watching Kitty's face as she found the woodcut familiar. Watching her place her had absently at her chest and how she began to play with her necklace, and how she then just turned toward him and lowered her head in a silent apology.
That was what had gotten to him later. She Knew! Knew he had been trying to keep them away, trying to keep HER away. Trying to be normal.
Kurt looked down at his right hand as he walked. It still had five fingers. It was still lying.
He turned the back of his hand to face him and he cocked his head at it. It was so real. So believable. But go a head and try it sometime. Take hold of a hand with three thick fingers that feel like velvet on the back and a well-worn leather moccasin on the palm and try to tell yourself it's normal.
"Six fingers." He thought. "One hand and one extra."
He shook his head at himself just as the principal had. He was trying to fight the memory but it refused to submit. It was time to relive it again, like it or not.
He remembered being numb as Kitty walked away. Seeing how she understood. How she would have just respected his wishes if she had known. How she never meant to hurt him.
And he understood. For all that to have been going on behind the scenes, for her to see right through him, she must know what he was most afraid of. Certainly she stood on the treacherous precipice of all his worst fears. Surely, all it would take to see it would be one clear day and the right eyes.
And he shook his head to clear it. He was one block from Graymalkin Lane and from there it was three blocks north and up the worlds longest driveway.
A few rain drops flicked him in his face and threatened have their friends follow him home.
"Go a-head." He whispered to the clouds. "You know you vant to." And for a moment he thought it was funny. He was slowly rising out of the woods of despair. How could Kitty see what he really feared? She's not him. Understanding how a bad picture or a bad likeness might effect a person is a far cry from understanding a person's ultimate fear.
And then the rain began, and as the large, cold drops began to fall, so too did Kurt's mood. And his mind insisted "Why not remember the rest?"
And he knew he had little choice.
He hadn't bothered to watch the others as Kitty walked away. His attention was solely on her and her reaction. He didn't hear Bobby and Evan as they had idled up behind him and stopped to stare at the woodcuts.
And he knows Bobby didn't really mean it when he asked Evan if they "Knew this guy?" And pointed toward the devil.
"Lay off." Evan told him, smiling just a little.
"I don't know. It looks like a family relation to me." Bobby tried to look at Kurt without letting Kurt know.
"I'm just saying, if you're on this guy's team, who do you think is on the other?" Bobby can find the humor in anything. Sometimes the rest of us have trouble following along.
Evan knew. "Way uncool." He told Bobby right before walking away.
And when Bobby turned to ask if Kurt understood that he was kidding, Kurt agreed. He smiled wide. What problems could a person have in this life when you're the spitting image of evil incarnate? "Com on!" Kurt told him "I've got to pose for a-nover voodcut in tventy min-utes."
And they walked away. And they laughed.
Maybe Bobby did feel bad. He spent the rest of the trip trying to make Kurt laugh, although it was a long time before he laughed genuinely and for real.
The rain had been torrential and visibility dropped to about eight feet in front of Kurt's face.
Kurt could make out the shapes of the street lamps as he passed under them, but as it was still dusk, they were not yet turned on. He shook his head to knock the hanging drops of water off his hat and he pulled his jacket closed around his neck.
The wind was whipping up and freezing him anew with every gust.
And Kurt reached a calm place inside. Although the storm raged all around, his mind was silent and focused. "Vouldnt tit be great if ze all knew?" He had never really considered it before. "If I could talk to zem, tell zem what I know."
Kurt winced. He hadn't meant 'what I know'. He had meant 'what I'm afraid of'. He closed one eye and walked in to the wind and rain.
Of course they would tell him what he knew to be real: What kind of person he was. Things he had done.
But was that all there was inside? What kind of package comes wrapped like this?
They would say how absurd and outright laughable to think that Kurt would or could be EVIL.
It was so laughable that he had to disguise himself for the rest of his life. So laughable that he will be forever removed from having a normal life. So laughable that his appearance scares children and the subtle smell of brimstone that hangs around him drives animals to whine and whimper as though he were a walking disease. So laughable that he will probably spend his life as an X-Man and die as an X-Man.
A car whipped by and covered Kurt in a sheet of dirty water from off the road.
"Tank-you!" He called after them, waving his lying hand "Vor not running me o-ver." He looked at the vanishing taillights before adding "Dis time."
And finally he found it; The driveway. It was the final sign of journey's end. Secretly he had been hoping to see it for the last two blocks. Most of which felt like two football fields because of the weather.
And he approached the house out of the rain and the night. He stalked up to it like a hunter who's given up on diplomacy and has decided to go down shooting. It had all been too much. The wind, the rain, the memories, the feelings. It was all too much.
By the time Kurt got to the doors of the mansion he was a new man. He wanted to breathe smoke like the poor bastard in the woodcut, be he man, mutant or devil. Kurt wanted to frighten, to intimidate, and to do all those things that his friends thought him incapable of.
Kurt wanted to show them. He wanted them to know. He wanted them to be prepared. Just in case.
And an idea occurred to Kurt. Something that would burn off all this malaise and put the world back in to perspective. Provided it didn't kill him.
He marched through the mansion doors and left them open. He dropped his wet leather backpack in the hall as he passed his room. He pulled off his hat and jacket and threw them in to one of the Professors red leather chairs. He kicked off his shoes and walked down the hall in his wet socks. "Oh yeah." He thought. "Love da zounds of da three toed foot" as he slapped his feet down the hall.
He stopped only in the small locker room to finish getting out of his clothes and pull on a dry uniform.
"I want to fight now." Had he really said it? Did he just walk right in, interrupt a class, and attempt to pick a fight with the instructor? He had indeed and the fight was on.
At first it all happened too fast to describe. Kurt managed a series of multiple teleports that resulted in a series of landed blows that left Wolverine little time to respond. Then he saw the pattern and got his hand out before Kurt could reappear.
Wolverine grabbed the elf by the back of his head as he emerged out of the smoke and beat him in to the wall twice before Nightcrawler managed to teleport behind him and, bracing himself with his arms and tail, he kicked with all his might and both feet.
Everyone gasped.
Wolverine fell, although he could have stopped himself, but not without relying on years of experience. And this wasn't about winning. He could see it in the elf's eyes. Maybe it was about getting up when you didn't think you could. And maybe the elf just needed to know that everybody gets knocked down.
Of course, try explaining that to the mutants at the Xavier house, who stood safely behind the Danger Room's great clear windows and cheered and jeered almost at random in some sort of fevered excitement.
And then it happened.
Wolverine took hold of Nightcrawler's foot as he leapt for safety. Using his superior weight as an anchor, Wolverine held on to Kurt, intent on using Kurt's own momentum against him. This time it was for real. Wolverine was ending it.
He thought.
Because Kurt had come again to that place of fear within his heart and he knew it now as he had never know it before. He knew it well enough to show them all.
He spun on a dime to face Wolverine and using his superior musculature, before he hit the ground, he coiled himself in to a ball, rolling down his own leg and Logans arm, finally managing to slam down with all his might in to Wolverine.
Wolverine was completely taken off guard. He had never seen Kurt do anything remotely similar. It looked positively inhuman. And Logan went down in a sprawl, thanks to the ferocity of the hit and the mockery that Kurt made of his balance.
Everyone in the booth went silent for the stretch of one heart beat..
Wolverine was off his feet. His back was to Nightcrawler. Wolverine makes a point of never turning his back in a fight. He was really taken down. This was getting serious.
Kurt wasn't sweating. He had been freezing on the way home and now he was numb and only beginning to warm. He could feel their eyes on him from across the room. He leapt high, out of Logan's reach as he recovered.
And so Logan popped out his claws.
And every heart in the booth stopped. Logan had fought and trained with all of them. He never used his claws unless they were essential to the exercise.
And he swiped at the elf who managed somehow not only to avoid the swipe but also to smack the back of the blades, tauntingly, as they passed. Maybe no one in the booth saw it, but Wolverine did. The elf had it all over him for maneuverability. Had his claws been swords or knives, Kurt could have taken them away by now.
"I don't know what this is all about for you kid." Wolverine told him. "But you give it your best. I'll heal if you mange to. . . "
But it was done too quickly.
Kurt swept up on Wolverine with twice the grace of most cats. He made one fluid motion that tipped Wolverine backwards, just enough so that Kurt could catch Wolverine on his hip and begin to toss him. Then, as Wolverine was falling backwards, unbalanced and rolling off Kurt's hip, Kurt teleported.
He reappeared above Wolverines head. His hands had the falling Wolverine by the shoulders, and for a moment he did a handstand on the falling man, just because he could. Then he fell, quickly, tucking himself under Wolverine, rolling with him, despite the extra weight of his adamantium frame, planting his feet to Logan's chest and catapulting him toward the great observation window.
Everyone within stood frozen and slack-jawed for a long moment. Then they scattered. People dove for exits and under the controls. Everyone, including Wolverine, thought he was going through the windows.
But he didn't. He hit the window soundly and with a slight acrobatic recovery, he landed on his feet.
"That's all for tonight everyone." He called out, taking a breath or two "Kurt, don't be late next time."
Kurt nodded. He was still numb, still cold. His hair was damp and it hung in his eyes. He brushed it back, looking at his reflection in the observation window. He looked ferocious. Like an animal at night. Something you wouldn't taunt. Someone you don't want to know.
And then his vision shifted to look inside the booth.
Most everyone was gone. Bobby continued to throw punches and kicks at Evan in an attempt to narrate something they both already seen, despite Evan's protests.
But there in the back of the booth, standing alone, was Kitty.
Her smile shone to him like the morning sun. It wasn't worried, concerned, or forced. Not like he might have expected. It was something else. Not coy, or seductive, but something was most definitely there. Some thought that once named would reveal the truth of that smile to him.
His focus shifted again. This time it was to Wolverine who had stepped up, blocking Kitty from his sight.
"You get that all out of your system Elf?" He asked rubbing his neck.
"For to-day." He tried to smile but Logan saw there was truth in the statement.
"This wasn't personal, was it kid? I mean I didn't do anything to. . . "
Kurt interrupted him.
"No. No." He waved his hands in between them and shook his head. "I just remember you saying, back during orientation, that if anyone feels the need to, you know, fight? We should come to you."
"Yeah, that was kind of a threat." He nodded twice and saw Kurt's dismay begin to rise "And a valid offer. Anytime you find it necessary." He smiled at the funny little blue man. "I never knew you had it in ya." He shook Kurt's hand and walked out of the room.
But when Kurt cast his eyes back to the booth it was empty and he was once again alone.
He headed for his room, exhausted, and reclaiming his mess as he went.
He was wholly unprepared to find Kitty waiting for him in the hall outside his room.
"Kurt?" She seemed to be looking for the right words and could only come up only with his name.
"Ach. Kitty. How are you?" He felt suddenly shy and exposed. As though she were seeing him naked.
"I wanted to talk to you Kurt." She looked as though she had found a place to begin. "I thought you were crazy. No one in his right mind would interrupt Mr. Logan's class by asking to fight him Kurt. It's not sane." She motioned at her own head as though demonstrating some imaginary problem with his.
It made Kurt appreciate the thought that someone you know may have gone a little crazy.
"And I thought, just for a second, that you. . . " She looked at his forehead and avoided his eyes "That you might have done it to impress me." She didn't let him respond "But now, I know better Kurt."
She looked briefly away from him, as thought she couldn't gather her thoughts while looking at him.
"Now I think you did it because it's you." And she bit her lip, as she looked him in the eye. "It's who you are Kurt. Someone who can stand alone against Wolverine, oh hell Kurt, you won that fight. You beat him." And that smile was back. The same one he couldn't fathom through the safety window. That was the emotion; it was pride.
"And I'm real glad that you're on our side Kurt. And just that you're my friend."
She took his hand and held it for just an instant between them as an awkward sign of affection before she turned quickly and disappeared around a corner, her ponytail bouncing along behind her.
Kurt turned and opened his door. Once inside he dropped his wet clothes in a heap at the foot of the bed and climbed in to the shower. He wasted no time in believing that hot water was a greater treasure than most people would ever know.
He climbed out of the shower and saw himself in the mirror. He looked like Mystique; there was no doubt about it, except for a little around the eyes. He had never noticed that before. There was something different about his eyes. Something that made him look less like Mystique and more like. . . Himself!
He stood there for a moment, considering himself in the half-fogged mirror.
He looked. . . Honest.
And with that thought in his mind he pulled on a pair of pajama's and climbed in to bed.
And Kitty's voice echoed through his mind "And just that you're my friend" it said and he smiled as he wrapped himself in the covers.
"Just that. You're my friend." It said as he began to drift off to sleep.
"Just friends." She said in his mind "We're just friends."
Kurt rolled over now feeling quite awake again.
"Ach." He told himself. "Shut up al-ready!" And he pulled the pillow down over his head.
"It only hurts a little (all the time)." A not for profit X-Men Evolution story set in the not too distant future by Remedy=Chill
Kurt walked down the long empty corridor of Bayville High. Life had been kind to him. Or so he told himself as often as he could. He lived in a nice place with people that really seemed to try to care about him. Even when he got double detention for arguing with Mrs. Brickman.
Of course, her answer was, technically, in the answer book listed under ANSWER.
And his answer was driven by an understanding of holographic technology that's far superior to any the world has ever seen.
So you can see the source of this confusion.
"Vie could teach her a ting or tree about phy-siks." He grumbled out loud, half startling himself. "I mus-t be tired." He concluded out loud. "I'm talking to myself."
Just then he looked up to see the principal standing in an open doorway and listening intently.
Kurt shoved his hands in to his pockets and redoubled his pace.
She simply stood there and very slowly, shook her head back and forth.
"Stu-pid Self." He grumbled as he left the building.
Scott was supposed to pick him up but the professor sent him to New Hampshire with Hank McCoy at the last minute. What Hank was going for had been the source of much speculation and rumor but nothing more believable than Jubilee's 'Space Monster' theory.
And then it happened again.
Kurt saw two people holding hands. Suddenly his hands felt too big for his pockets. The sight of all those fingers, meshing between two hands, was somehow so alien and disturbing that Kurt had to clench his fists to keep his fingers from twitching at the sight.
Of course they noticed him. Of course they looked, and of course, they watched him walk away and out of sight.
Kurt could feel the desire to mope. It was strong and seductive.
Instead he took his hands out of his pockets and looked down at them. He saw five fingers. He turned them over and still; He saw five fingers.
But he knew better.
He knew it when he was getting in and out of the shower and he would catch sight of himself in the mirror. When he was wet the smooth area's like around his eyes blended in with the fuzzy areas like his beard and sideburns. The hair and the skin color are identical and at times, especially when he's just out of the shower, he looks like a seal or a dolphin.
"Or Mystique." He winced at the thought and collected himself to begin moping. He carefully surveyed the traffic before crossing the big intersection that runs through town. Once across, he proceeded to throw himself headlong in to the mope.
"In za purfact vorld, BAMF! And home." He gestured to the heavens with his hands. Not only were his powers only strong enough to teleport him within line of sight, but then there was the whole 'Murdered by Angry Crowd Etc." (Or: M.A.C.E.) Scenario that looking like a demon somehow seems to inspire in others.
And the word rolled through his mind again "Demon."
The people at the mansion were kind. They called him an elf. He appreciated it. Appreciated a lie that masked his separation from them. Masked his true form.
But Kurt was not blind. He recalled seeing demons in 19th century woodcuts on a museum field trip. He remembered seeing his tail and hair depicted as the most obvious features of the Devil. He remembered trying desperately to steer Kitty and the others away. So that they would not see them.
And he remembered how he failed.
He remembered watching Kitty's face as she found the woodcut familiar. Watching her place her had absently at her chest and how she began to play with her necklace, and how she then just turned toward him and lowered her head in a silent apology.
That was what had gotten to him later. She Knew! Knew he had been trying to keep them away, trying to keep HER away. Trying to be normal.
Kurt looked down at his right hand as he walked. It still had five fingers. It was still lying.
He turned the back of his hand to face him and he cocked his head at it. It was so real. So believable. But go a head and try it sometime. Take hold of a hand with three thick fingers that feel like velvet on the back and a well-worn leather moccasin on the palm and try to tell yourself it's normal.
"Six fingers." He thought. "One hand and one extra."
He shook his head at himself just as the principal had. He was trying to fight the memory but it refused to submit. It was time to relive it again, like it or not.
He remembered being numb as Kitty walked away. Seeing how she understood. How she would have just respected his wishes if she had known. How she never meant to hurt him.
And he understood. For all that to have been going on behind the scenes, for her to see right through him, she must know what he was most afraid of. Certainly she stood on the treacherous precipice of all his worst fears. Surely, all it would take to see it would be one clear day and the right eyes.
And he shook his head to clear it. He was one block from Graymalkin Lane and from there it was three blocks north and up the worlds longest driveway.
A few rain drops flicked him in his face and threatened have their friends follow him home.
"Go a-head." He whispered to the clouds. "You know you vant to." And for a moment he thought it was funny. He was slowly rising out of the woods of despair. How could Kitty see what he really feared? She's not him. Understanding how a bad picture or a bad likeness might effect a person is a far cry from understanding a person's ultimate fear.
And then the rain began, and as the large, cold drops began to fall, so too did Kurt's mood. And his mind insisted "Why not remember the rest?"
And he knew he had little choice.
He hadn't bothered to watch the others as Kitty walked away. His attention was solely on her and her reaction. He didn't hear Bobby and Evan as they had idled up behind him and stopped to stare at the woodcuts.
And he knows Bobby didn't really mean it when he asked Evan if they "Knew this guy?" And pointed toward the devil.
"Lay off." Evan told him, smiling just a little.
"I don't know. It looks like a family relation to me." Bobby tried to look at Kurt without letting Kurt know.
"I'm just saying, if you're on this guy's team, who do you think is on the other?" Bobby can find the humor in anything. Sometimes the rest of us have trouble following along.
Evan knew. "Way uncool." He told Bobby right before walking away.
And when Bobby turned to ask if Kurt understood that he was kidding, Kurt agreed. He smiled wide. What problems could a person have in this life when you're the spitting image of evil incarnate? "Com on!" Kurt told him "I've got to pose for a-nover voodcut in tventy min-utes."
And they walked away. And they laughed.
Maybe Bobby did feel bad. He spent the rest of the trip trying to make Kurt laugh, although it was a long time before he laughed genuinely and for real.
The rain had been torrential and visibility dropped to about eight feet in front of Kurt's face.
Kurt could make out the shapes of the street lamps as he passed under them, but as it was still dusk, they were not yet turned on. He shook his head to knock the hanging drops of water off his hat and he pulled his jacket closed around his neck.
The wind was whipping up and freezing him anew with every gust.
And Kurt reached a calm place inside. Although the storm raged all around, his mind was silent and focused. "Vouldnt tit be great if ze all knew?" He had never really considered it before. "If I could talk to zem, tell zem what I know."
Kurt winced. He hadn't meant 'what I know'. He had meant 'what I'm afraid of'. He closed one eye and walked in to the wind and rain.
Of course they would tell him what he knew to be real: What kind of person he was. Things he had done.
But was that all there was inside? What kind of package comes wrapped like this?
They would say how absurd and outright laughable to think that Kurt would or could be EVIL.
It was so laughable that he had to disguise himself for the rest of his life. So laughable that he will be forever removed from having a normal life. So laughable that his appearance scares children and the subtle smell of brimstone that hangs around him drives animals to whine and whimper as though he were a walking disease. So laughable that he will probably spend his life as an X-Man and die as an X-Man.
A car whipped by and covered Kurt in a sheet of dirty water from off the road.
"Tank-you!" He called after them, waving his lying hand "Vor not running me o-ver." He looked at the vanishing taillights before adding "Dis time."
And finally he found it; The driveway. It was the final sign of journey's end. Secretly he had been hoping to see it for the last two blocks. Most of which felt like two football fields because of the weather.
And he approached the house out of the rain and the night. He stalked up to it like a hunter who's given up on diplomacy and has decided to go down shooting. It had all been too much. The wind, the rain, the memories, the feelings. It was all too much.
By the time Kurt got to the doors of the mansion he was a new man. He wanted to breathe smoke like the poor bastard in the woodcut, be he man, mutant or devil. Kurt wanted to frighten, to intimidate, and to do all those things that his friends thought him incapable of.
Kurt wanted to show them. He wanted them to know. He wanted them to be prepared. Just in case.
And an idea occurred to Kurt. Something that would burn off all this malaise and put the world back in to perspective. Provided it didn't kill him.
He marched through the mansion doors and left them open. He dropped his wet leather backpack in the hall as he passed his room. He pulled off his hat and jacket and threw them in to one of the Professors red leather chairs. He kicked off his shoes and walked down the hall in his wet socks. "Oh yeah." He thought. "Love da zounds of da three toed foot" as he slapped his feet down the hall.
He stopped only in the small locker room to finish getting out of his clothes and pull on a dry uniform.
"I want to fight now." Had he really said it? Did he just walk right in, interrupt a class, and attempt to pick a fight with the instructor? He had indeed and the fight was on.
At first it all happened too fast to describe. Kurt managed a series of multiple teleports that resulted in a series of landed blows that left Wolverine little time to respond. Then he saw the pattern and got his hand out before Kurt could reappear.
Wolverine grabbed the elf by the back of his head as he emerged out of the smoke and beat him in to the wall twice before Nightcrawler managed to teleport behind him and, bracing himself with his arms and tail, he kicked with all his might and both feet.
Everyone gasped.
Wolverine fell, although he could have stopped himself, but not without relying on years of experience. And this wasn't about winning. He could see it in the elf's eyes. Maybe it was about getting up when you didn't think you could. And maybe the elf just needed to know that everybody gets knocked down.
Of course, try explaining that to the mutants at the Xavier house, who stood safely behind the Danger Room's great clear windows and cheered and jeered almost at random in some sort of fevered excitement.
And then it happened.
Wolverine took hold of Nightcrawler's foot as he leapt for safety. Using his superior weight as an anchor, Wolverine held on to Kurt, intent on using Kurt's own momentum against him. This time it was for real. Wolverine was ending it.
He thought.
Because Kurt had come again to that place of fear within his heart and he knew it now as he had never know it before. He knew it well enough to show them all.
He spun on a dime to face Wolverine and using his superior musculature, before he hit the ground, he coiled himself in to a ball, rolling down his own leg and Logans arm, finally managing to slam down with all his might in to Wolverine.
Wolverine was completely taken off guard. He had never seen Kurt do anything remotely similar. It looked positively inhuman. And Logan went down in a sprawl, thanks to the ferocity of the hit and the mockery that Kurt made of his balance.
Everyone in the booth went silent for the stretch of one heart beat..
Wolverine was off his feet. His back was to Nightcrawler. Wolverine makes a point of never turning his back in a fight. He was really taken down. This was getting serious.
Kurt wasn't sweating. He had been freezing on the way home and now he was numb and only beginning to warm. He could feel their eyes on him from across the room. He leapt high, out of Logan's reach as he recovered.
And so Logan popped out his claws.
And every heart in the booth stopped. Logan had fought and trained with all of them. He never used his claws unless they were essential to the exercise.
And he swiped at the elf who managed somehow not only to avoid the swipe but also to smack the back of the blades, tauntingly, as they passed. Maybe no one in the booth saw it, but Wolverine did. The elf had it all over him for maneuverability. Had his claws been swords or knives, Kurt could have taken them away by now.
"I don't know what this is all about for you kid." Wolverine told him. "But you give it your best. I'll heal if you mange to. . . "
But it was done too quickly.
Kurt swept up on Wolverine with twice the grace of most cats. He made one fluid motion that tipped Wolverine backwards, just enough so that Kurt could catch Wolverine on his hip and begin to toss him. Then, as Wolverine was falling backwards, unbalanced and rolling off Kurt's hip, Kurt teleported.
He reappeared above Wolverines head. His hands had the falling Wolverine by the shoulders, and for a moment he did a handstand on the falling man, just because he could. Then he fell, quickly, tucking himself under Wolverine, rolling with him, despite the extra weight of his adamantium frame, planting his feet to Logan's chest and catapulting him toward the great observation window.
Everyone within stood frozen and slack-jawed for a long moment. Then they scattered. People dove for exits and under the controls. Everyone, including Wolverine, thought he was going through the windows.
But he didn't. He hit the window soundly and with a slight acrobatic recovery, he landed on his feet.
"That's all for tonight everyone." He called out, taking a breath or two "Kurt, don't be late next time."
Kurt nodded. He was still numb, still cold. His hair was damp and it hung in his eyes. He brushed it back, looking at his reflection in the observation window. He looked ferocious. Like an animal at night. Something you wouldn't taunt. Someone you don't want to know.
And then his vision shifted to look inside the booth.
Most everyone was gone. Bobby continued to throw punches and kicks at Evan in an attempt to narrate something they both already seen, despite Evan's protests.
But there in the back of the booth, standing alone, was Kitty.
Her smile shone to him like the morning sun. It wasn't worried, concerned, or forced. Not like he might have expected. It was something else. Not coy, or seductive, but something was most definitely there. Some thought that once named would reveal the truth of that smile to him.
His focus shifted again. This time it was to Wolverine who had stepped up, blocking Kitty from his sight.
"You get that all out of your system Elf?" He asked rubbing his neck.
"For to-day." He tried to smile but Logan saw there was truth in the statement.
"This wasn't personal, was it kid? I mean I didn't do anything to. . . "
Kurt interrupted him.
"No. No." He waved his hands in between them and shook his head. "I just remember you saying, back during orientation, that if anyone feels the need to, you know, fight? We should come to you."
"Yeah, that was kind of a threat." He nodded twice and saw Kurt's dismay begin to rise "And a valid offer. Anytime you find it necessary." He smiled at the funny little blue man. "I never knew you had it in ya." He shook Kurt's hand and walked out of the room.
But when Kurt cast his eyes back to the booth it was empty and he was once again alone.
He headed for his room, exhausted, and reclaiming his mess as he went.
He was wholly unprepared to find Kitty waiting for him in the hall outside his room.
"Kurt?" She seemed to be looking for the right words and could only come up only with his name.
"Ach. Kitty. How are you?" He felt suddenly shy and exposed. As though she were seeing him naked.
"I wanted to talk to you Kurt." She looked as though she had found a place to begin. "I thought you were crazy. No one in his right mind would interrupt Mr. Logan's class by asking to fight him Kurt. It's not sane." She motioned at her own head as though demonstrating some imaginary problem with his.
It made Kurt appreciate the thought that someone you know may have gone a little crazy.
"And I thought, just for a second, that you. . . " She looked at his forehead and avoided his eyes "That you might have done it to impress me." She didn't let him respond "But now, I know better Kurt."
She looked briefly away from him, as thought she couldn't gather her thoughts while looking at him.
"Now I think you did it because it's you." And she bit her lip, as she looked him in the eye. "It's who you are Kurt. Someone who can stand alone against Wolverine, oh hell Kurt, you won that fight. You beat him." And that smile was back. The same one he couldn't fathom through the safety window. That was the emotion; it was pride.
"And I'm real glad that you're on our side Kurt. And just that you're my friend."
She took his hand and held it for just an instant between them as an awkward sign of affection before she turned quickly and disappeared around a corner, her ponytail bouncing along behind her.
Kurt turned and opened his door. Once inside he dropped his wet clothes in a heap at the foot of the bed and climbed in to the shower. He wasted no time in believing that hot water was a greater treasure than most people would ever know.
He climbed out of the shower and saw himself in the mirror. He looked like Mystique; there was no doubt about it, except for a little around the eyes. He had never noticed that before. There was something different about his eyes. Something that made him look less like Mystique and more like. . . Himself!
He stood there for a moment, considering himself in the half-fogged mirror.
He looked. . . Honest.
And with that thought in his mind he pulled on a pair of pajama's and climbed in to bed.
And Kitty's voice echoed through his mind "And just that you're my friend" it said and he smiled as he wrapped himself in the covers.
"Just that. You're my friend." It said as he began to drift off to sleep.
"Just friends." She said in his mind "We're just friends."
Kurt rolled over now feeling quite awake again.
"Ach." He told himself. "Shut up al-ready!" And he pulled the pillow down over his head.