Authors note: This story is not a sequel to "Of Laundry and Luck" yet I do continue with my habit of leaving out the accents. Also, this story is complete, I just need to type it into my computer. Twenty five pages hand written is a lot to type out. Also I am going to try and break away from the old Kurtty Cliches with this one, as well as add a bit off depth to the characters. If you all like it when it is finished, it is set up to carry a sequel(s).
Forgiven.
The room was dark. Illuminated only by the green digital glow of the bedside clock, which read 3:20am. The silence of the room broken periodically by small moans and gasps; mumblings of German, "Halten Sie Bitter." and "Nein." imploring for something unseen to cease. The sounds and voice were coming from a writhing mass of blankets on the bed. Then suddenly the occupant of the bed sat bolt upright and screamed, "Stefan Nein!" Kurt looked around the room, the light from the clock bright as day to his night senses. He had been having these dreams off and on since coming to the mansion, and he resolved that come morning he would do something about it.
Professor Xavier sat at his desk early the next morning enjoying his coffee while simultaneously trying to block the unfiltered thoughts of his students. They did not realize that in their early morning haze they had a tendency to project every little thought. However, he had experience in tuning it out. Being arguably the worlds greatest telepath did have certain perks after all. There were students however, who hardly projected at all. In fact, some had such highly developed mental shields that he would be hard pressed to enter their minds without their permission. That was not to say that they could not hear him 'knocking', just that the doors were locked so to speak.
That was why it came as a surprise as one such student knocked on his door. The shock of it caught him off guard, almost making him spill his still steaming French vanilla roast. "Come in.", he announced.
Kurt opened the door. He did not, contrary to popular belief 'port' everywhere, just as a certain immaterial girl did not 'phase' into every room.
"God morning professor"
"A good morning to you too Kurt. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
The blue German shook his head, "Pleasure has nothing to do with it, I am afraid."
"Is something the matter?" the older man asked.
Kurt took a seat across from his mentor before speaking, "Well I have been having these nightmares…"
"Would these have anything to do with your mother?" Charles leaned forward expectantly.
"No. These are about something else, something that no one here at The Institute knows about. " Kurt licked his lips before continuing, a sign that the older man recognized as signaling his hesitation, "There is something in my past that I feel I need to deal with before I continue with the team."
The professor steepled his fingers in what his students had deemed his trademark pose. "Well Kurt, would you care to tell me about it?"
If you don't mind professor, I would rather you looked in my mind. It is far too painful for me to verbalize."
Charles wheeled his chair around and stopped so that he was right in front of his student. "Very well then," ha placed his fingers to the teen's temples then said, "Kurt, If you wouldn't mind lowering your shields?"
The moment that Kurt did so, the professor instantly found himself relieving the boys most painful and terrible memory. The horror of it was so unexpected and great that he audibly gasped and pulled his hands back as if they had been physically burned. He looked at Kurt, who had tears in his eyes, "What do you need to do?"
An hour after breakfast found Kurt back in the professor's study along with Logan. Kurt was explaining his plan to them. "I would like to return to Germany for a while…"
"How long do you need?" Charles asked.
"A couple of weeks. As you know, I am a Catholic."
The Wolverine chirped in, "Nobody's perfect."
Charles shot him a disapproving glare, "Logan, time and place."
"No, it's alright professor." Kurt smiled lightly. "I have been thinking of performing the spiritual exercises of St. Ignatius. Normally that would require a month, but I feel that two weeks should be sufficient."
Charles raised an eyebrow, "I never knew you were a Jesuit Kurt."
The boy smiled, "Nobody's perfect."
Logan let out a bark of laughter at that, "Glad to see you're still in there elf."
"Danke." The Elf grinned.
The professor smiled as well, the presence of Kurt's humor even in this trying time coming as a relief. "When would you like to depart?"
The boy gave it some thought before he spoke, "I should have everything ready to go in two days… But I may need some help obtaining a few supplies."
The older man in the wheel chair smiled at him, "Anything you need, just ask."
After Kurt had thanked the professor and left the room, Logan hung back as per a mental request from the professor.
"Logan, I would like you to fly Kurt home in the Black Bird."
The gruff man nodded, "And here I thought I was just in the room for decoration."
"Quite." The professor smirked, "In case you did not know Logan, St. Ignatius lived in a cave and practiced acts of penance that included starvation, self flagulation, and silence. Although the more physically harmful aspects of his method are no longer part of The Society of Jesus' practices, I would like you to secretly keep an eye on our blue friend for his own safety."
"So I am to be on stakeout?" The Canadian asked.
"Think of it more as being the boy's safety net." The physically older man drew on the furry teen's history as a trapeze artist for the analogy. "Kurt needs this time to deal with some very dark aspects of his past. I think that out of anyone you could understand that Logan." He paused to let it sink in "Only interfere if it is absolutely necessary for the boy's safety."
"Gotcha." Logan said as he threw up a mock salute while thinking to himself, 'Looks like I'm going camping…'
Kurt's door hung open as he busied himself filling a large duffle bag that sat on his bed. His tail swished around in an apparently random fashion when it was not busy grabbing things and acting as a third hand.
His actions were brought to a halt as a knock came upon his doorframe. Turning around Kurt saw his adopted sister Rogue standing in the doorway.
"I heard you were going somewhere. Looks like it's true." The southern girl placed her hand n her hip and pretended to be angry. "Did you think you could take off without telling your older sis goodbye?"
Kurt smiled, a small amount of sadness evident on his face. He had been a little brother once before, and had thought that aspect of his life to be over until he came to the institute.
Kurt understood Rogue. After all, they were two sides of the same coin. Where as she had adopted the off putting goth persona as a means of making herself unapproachable to avoid harming anyone with her mutation; his mutation had led him to make himself overly approachable in compensation of his appearance. Two coping mechanisms for similar problems.
He motioned her into the room. When she has come in, he walked over and shut the door behind her, then took a seat on his bed. Rogue pulled out his desk chair and sat, "Kurt, what's going on?
"It is difficult for me to explain…" he began, "You know that before I came here I had been living on my own for a while. When the professor found me, I was about to be burned at the stake."
She nodded.
"But this is not about that…" he continued,
"It's about Stefan isn't it." It was a statement not a question. At his surprised look she explained, "Kurt, I've got you in my head." She tapped her forehead for emphasis, "Most of your memories, fears… Hell," she blew out a breath, "Sometimes I find myself talking to myself in German!"
"So you know what I have to do then?"
She nodded. Then standing up she walked over to the bed and sat down next to him. "Just be careful. And remember, we all love you here." She pulled him into a hug.
As he hugged her back he said, "Danke."
Rogue smiled, "Bitte schöne." Then in a threatening tone, "And if you tell anyone about this 'touchy feely' moment, I will have to kill you. I do have a reputation to keep."
He laughed, "Duly noted."
Then she asked something that wiped the smile right off his face, "So, what are you going to tell Kitty?"
His face fell a little, "Damn. I hadn't thought of that yet."
There you all go. Chapter One. Please review and let me know. I am also looking for a competent beta.