Disclaimer: Characters and environments are the property of Marvel. I do not own the X-Men and I make nothing from this.
This is a story set in Germany, beginning approximately 5-6 years before Kurt Wagner joined the X-Men. It should be assumed that the language spoken through the bulk of the story is German.
I was unhappy with the muddle of Nightcrawler's back-story, and all the various versions of it, so I decided to try my hand at laying it out in coherent form. I've used elements(sometimes very small) from all the stories, to one degree or another. That includes the main comic-verse, movie-verse and the Origins retcon issue.
Jimaine (Amanda) features prominently in the story as well.
Thanks to M. Hammerman for her invaluable insight, especially regarding Jimaine.


Chapter One

"Don't you dare drop me again, Kurt Szardos!" Jimaine's green eyes narrowed in mock warning as she looked down at him.

She was perched, standing on his shoulders as he swayed unsteadily under her weight.

"No, no...hold the calves to steady her, not her ankles! Do you want to cripple the poor girl?" Sabu, der Jahrmarkt's former premiere acrobat, as well as Kurt and Jimaine's instructor, limped over to the pair of them, pointing his cane for emphasis. "You are the bedrock of this routine. If you are not steady, all will crumble!"

Kurt grimaced and tried to shift his hold, but his knee buckled and they both tumbled down. He cushioned his foster-sister's fall and had the breath knocked out of him for his trouble. Kurt sat up wheezing while Jimaine shook her head. "Are you okay?" she asked.

He nodded, embarrassed.

She stood and looked at Sabu with her hands on her hips. Jimaine was fifteen, and considered herself very much grown. "Sabu, I told you! Kurt is the best trapeze artist we have, but he's just not big enough to be my support in the floor routine. You're going to have to use Ronaldo again."

"Ronaldo! People don't come to der Jahrmarkt to see Ronaldo, they come to see our acrobatic blue devil! Sabu patted Kurt fondly on the shoulder. "It just takes practice, you know this. I taught you this."

"Yes, well our blue devil needs to grow a little more." She smiled wryly and reached down to help Kurt up. Standing, he was still several inches shorter than she was, and at least fifteen pounds lighter. He looked fairly miserable at his most recent failure.

"C'mon little brother, you're only thirteen. By this time next year, you'll have hit a growth spurt, especially with the way you eat." Kurt's ravenous appetite was a running joke in their family, though he remained whip thin. Their mother claimed it was because he was utterly unable to sit still for any length of time. He was always jumping, or climbing or hanging upside down or something. Being forced to be calm and attentive in the impromptu classroom set up for the younger members of the circus drove Kurt to distraction, and even when he forced his body to comply and be still, his tail curled and wriggled in rebellion behind him. It just wasn't in him to be sedentary.

Sabu growled reluctantly, "yes, all right. Perhaps next year. For now, practice your somersaults, Kurt. Your work in the air is brilliant, but your dismount and landing leave much to be desired."

Kurt heaved a sigh. The man was a slave-driver, satisfied only with perfection. Jimaine winked at him conspiratorially when Sabu's back was turned. Back to work.

Several hours later, he spied Jimaine on his way back from a wash in the river. He ran to catch up with her. "Going my way?" Kurt grinned.

She smiled in return. "Guess so, are you headed back home?" Home was a small, compact trailer at the edge of the encampment.

"Yes, it's dinner time and I'm starving."

Jimaine cut her eyes at him. "Look, I'm sorry about earlier. It isn't that I don't think you're good enough for the floor show, I just don't want you to hurt yourself - or me." She nudged his shoulder with her own and grinned.

"I know, I'm not strong enough, yet. But I will be!" Kurt grinned and flexed his thin muscles, to the merry sound of her laughter.

"Kurti, you are something else." She reached over and tousled his hair.

"Of course I am, I'm the incredible Nightcrawler!" He flamboyantly took on the pose used in the circus flier and winked.

"Ugh, if your head gets any bigger, you won't fit through the door."

"So, would you like to sneak into town with me after dinner? Sinbad is playing, and the cinema in Mittenwald has a wonderful, dark balcony to hide in."

"Again? How many times are you going to watch that film? And Kurt, you know what Mama said about you going into town. If she catches you, you're in for it." Jimaine looked at him sternly.

He frowned. "You aren't going to tell her, are you? Jimaine..."

She sighed and relented. "No, I'm not going to tell her, but be careful. You know what happened last time."

"Yes, yes I know. Enough with the lectures," he replied in a put-upon tone. "You were a lot more fun before you decided to be grown up. So are you coming with me or not?"

"Not. Jutta's helping me do my hair tonight."

"What are you doing to you hair this time?"

"Bleaching it blonde. Sabu says it will be more eye-catching in the show."

"You're eye-catching enough." Kurt gave her his most charming smile.

"Ha! So how do you think I'll look as a blonde bombshell?" She preened and patted her hair as they walked.

He shrugged. "I like the way it is now."

"You have no imagination. Besides, Antonio thinks it'll be dazzling." Jimaine smiled dreamily.

Kurt rolled his eyes at the last, not that it was visible.

Antonio Latuso and his father Rafaele had joined the circus in late winter, bringing with them two trained lions for their act. It seemed the only thing the single females of der Jahrmarkt between the ages of thirteen and thirty could talk about now was Antonio. The boy was seventeen, tall and muscular with dark, Sicilian good looks. Jutta had described him as a "Greek god, dropped to earth." In short, he was everything Kurt wasn't. He had disliked Antonio on principal, but once the fellow had opened his mouth, Kurt had decided he disliked him in fact, as well. He was vain and condescending.

"Why do you care what he thinks?" Kurt asked with disgust.

"Oh Kurt, really..." Jimaine gave an eye-roll of her own. "Ooh, there he is now! Toni!" She waved and called out. Much to Kurt's disappointment, the older boy turned and made his way towards them with his characteristic swagger and a smile.

"You are done with practicing today?" Antonio smiled at Jimaine, ignoring Kurt. The thickly accented German made Kurt cringe.

She smiled and nodded, blushing prettily. "Where are you off to?"

"Feeding cats," He held up a large bag, dripping blood. "You would like to come watch?"

"Could I?" She beamed. "You don't think it's too dangerous?"

"I have fierce animals under perfect control. They..."

Kurt interrupted sullenly, "They're tame Jimaine, no more dangerous than big pussy cats." He crossed his arms, his tail twitching in irritation.

Toni laughed heartily. "Little blue boy, you come play with big pussy cats sometime when I am not there, see how tame they are." He continued chuckling. "Maybe they like you, you have things in common, yes? They have tail, you have tail, they have pointy teeth, you have pointy teeth, they have fur, you have fur." His dark eyes glinted. "You come, you just be careful not to get fleas."

Kurt's eyes narrowed and he clenched his jaw.

"Kurt's no animal, Toni!" Jimaine gasped and rounded on him, righteous anger glittering in her expression.

Toni met her eyes, then backed down, holding his hands up in surrender. "Is just a joke. I am joking!" He smiled and draped his arm around Kurt's tense shoulders. "Your brother is good kid, see? He knows I am...how you say...fooling around, yes?" Kurt looked at Toni, unsmiling.

Jimaine looked between the two of them in indecision. Kurt could see plainly on her face the conflict between her protectiveness towards him and her desire to spend time with Toni. Smiling thinly, he decided for her, and put on a mask of unconcern. "So long as Jimaine doesn't bring fleas home with her, then the joke would quit being funny." He forced a laugh, which the older boy picked up.

"Ha! A good joke. Your brother made a good joke, Jimaine. See? No harm done."

She peered at Kurt before giving him a small smile and shrugging. "Want to let Mom know I'm not hungry?"

He nodded and waved half-heartedly as Jimaine and Toni ambled off together, talking.

Kurt frowned dejectedly, dragging his feet the rest of the way home. His excitement over seeing Sinbad again had vanished.

"Hey runt, why the long face?" Stefan teased, as Kurt walked inside the cramped trailer the four of them called home.

"Don't call me that!" Kurt snapped, then dropped his eyes at his foster brother's look of surprise.

"Woah, somebody's had a bad day." Stefen looked at him archly. "What gives?"

Kurt shrugged, feeling guilty about his waspish response to the old nickname. Stefen had called him 'runt' - short for 'runt of the litter' - for as long as he could remember. His brother was the oldest of the Szardos children, at almost eighteen. Kurt dropped into a kitchen chair with a audible thunk. "Sabu cut me from the floor show...too small." He didn't go into anything else.

Stefan lit a cigarette and leaned back in his chair, balancing on the back two legs, his black eyes narrowed. "You'll grow, don't worry about it. I was smaller than you, at your age. That's what's got your tail tangled?"

Kurt shrugged again.

"Stefan, how many times have I asked you not to smoke in here?" Margali came from the back of the trailer fanning her hand before her face. "Outside, now."

"Yeah, Ma, I'm going. Dinner ready soon?"

"It's about to be on the table."

After Kurt relayed Jimaine's message, he spent the rest of dinner in silence. Considering he normally carried most of the conversation, both his mother and Stefan were watching him with concern by the time they finished their meal.

"Want to help me wash up, Kurti?" Margali asked softly.

"Sure Mom." He still wasn't smiling. That's a bad sign, she thought. What happened? She worried more about her youngest than the other two put together. He was just so sensitive. He wore his feelings on his shoulders.

"Well, I've got a date, catch you later r...Kurt." Stefan patted him on the shoulder as he was leaving.

"I wash, you dry?" Margali peered at him from the corner of her eye after Stefen had gone. The quiet stretched out as they both went about the chore. "Are you going to tell me what's really bothering you, son?" She asked after a time.

"I told you."

"Mmhmmm. I've been your mother for thirteen years, you think I don't know you better than that by now? What is it really? Did you and Jimaine get into an argument?" Her children didn't often fight, but there was always the chance.

"No." He dried the dishes and put them away mechanically.

His single syllable answer was as worrying as his earlier silence. That was completely unlike him. Kurt could turn anything into a drawn out, embellished story. "Then what happened?" She put her hand on his arm and pulled him to sit down at the table next to her.

Kurt stared at his hands clasped together on the table, the thick nails pared short to prevent them from looking like claws. To his eyes, they looked hideous and deformed, with nothing human about them. Margali brushed his hair back from his eyes and waited patiently for him to answer. Finally, in a whisper, he asked, "Am I human?"

"What?" Margali stared at him, wide-eyed and stunned.

"I just wanted to know - am I human? That boy, Antonio, said I was like his lions and he's right. I have fur, fangs, a tail - I'm not very different than they are at all, the only difference is that I can talk." He rested his chin on his arms. "Maybe one day I'll be in a cage the same as they are."

"Oh Kurt no!" Margali wrapped her arm around him protectively. "That boy is an idiot; nothing more than a stupid bully! You don't listen to him, you listen to me!" She shook him gently.

"You're just as human as I am, as anyone else is." Her tone gentled. "Yes, my youngest baby, you do look different, but it doesn't mean you're less than human. If anything, it means you're more than the rest of us. You're special, and anyone who takes the time to know you will realize that."

He shrugged and leaned into her embrace. She continued, "you're my son, and no Szardos ever hangs his head, do you hear me? You look the world in the eye, boy." She lifted his chin with her fingertips and gazed at him with over-flowing love.

Meeting her eyes, he just couldn't bring himself to reply with what he was thinking - he wasn't really a Szardos, just a strange-looking foundling she had taken pity on. He didn't even know his real name. Instead, he nodded and gave her a small smile. She returned it, and leaned forward to kiss his forehead. "There's my boy."


He lay in bed later that night, hovering just on the edge of sleep. The familiar little sounds of his world wrapped his consciousness up like a warm, secure blanket. The sound of his mother's pattering footsteps as she went about her final chores before sleep; the creak of the trailer shifting in the wind; the soft noises of the rest of the camp settling in for the night - all of those things lulled him into relaxation. He heard his brother's sure tread when he arrived back home, followed by the low voices that continued long after sleep finally laid its claim on Kurt.

Late the following day, Kurt was aimlessly walking around camp, engrossed in an adventure book. He wasn't paying attention to where he was, and wasn't going anywhere in particular. A rough shove of his shoulder that slung his book from his hands caught him completely off guard. He looked up in startled indignation and found himself faced with Antonio. The 'Greek god dropped to earth' was looking a bit worse for wear, sporting a blackened eye and a split lip that was pulled up into a sneer at the moment.

"Little blue boy cannot fight his own battles, eh? What, you send your big brother to take care of Toni?" Antonio spat on the ground at Kurt's feet in disgust. "Brother will not always be there, you remember that." The older boy stalked off, not looking back.

Kurt watched him leave, a mixture of embarrassment for himself and affection for Stefan warring within him.