"He's just lost so much." Hank told Wolverine and for all Logan knew about Charles there was one part of his past that only Hank knew and only because Hank was there. One loss that stood out among the others; one loss highlighted the pain of the others. The loss of his 'nephew' was too much for Charles even acknowledges now in his drunken wallowing but Hank remembers the smile on his face, the love in his eyes and the hope in his entire begin, all things that had been dulled since she left them on that beach. Hank vaguely ponders that if they could use Cerebro they could find him as Logan nods, knowing enough of the man's pain to limit any questions. They have been alone for so long that Hank should stay silent but he doesn't.

"He's just lost every trace of her." At least it was vague. Up the grand staircase and in his study Charles can image the hooded figure that snuck on to the mansion's ground (just like all those years ago). It was a year or two back but he still remembers the rain that fell that night and how damp the poor thing's fur had been. He can picture the night the little dark bundle landed in his lap.

The school was not much of a school. Cerebro was almost completed and the classrooms, labs and training rooms were barely there. Banshee, Havok and Beast had all claimed a room but other than those no other students were mulling around the hallways. Professor X grimaced at alarm clock as another white number flipped to reveal how sleepless his night was truly going to be. Beside his bed was the X rimmed wheelchair that Alex and Sean (and Hank based on his smirk) had gifted him. It was a reminder of the beach; of the day Raven disappeared in a poof of red smoke, the day the smell of sulfur mixed with the smell of salt water. He tried to focus his mind on the present and future but the shadow of the past in the dark of night was too distracting. Of course the present always had a way of jolting him back into reality. This jolt was a particularly loud one that caused the Professor's brow to knit and for him to pull himself into the waiting chair. He sent down his thoughts to Hank, Alex, and Sean searching for the source of the clanging. But he only received scattered thoughts ('He is making a mess. No, no, not that!', 'Will he shut up', 'I didn't know Beast could shed this much') and based on them, the Professor might as well start 'professing' with a few lessons about people trying to sleep. Charles rolled himself from his room on the first floor passed the empty rooms and the filled one close to the grand entrance where the sounds of Hank on the chandelier, loud voices, and a baby crying. What was going on?

"Come on, sweetie, give Uncle Hank back his glasses."

"Beast, man, you're freaking him out."
"I don't think he can. I mean look at him. OW!"

"Nice work little buddy!"
"Quite Sean or you'll wake the professor" Charles finally came upon the source of it all. A sight he is certain he will never forget. Hank, all Beast out as Alex would say, hung from the chandelier. Alex stood smirking with a bundle in his arms as Sean covered a bleeding cut on his arm. Vases were over turned, blue fur was stuck to the carpeting, and water dripping from the table.

"I am afraid it is too late for that, Hank and get off the bloody chandelier."

"I'm sorry Professor." He mumbled as he dismounted. "We tried to-" A cry cut Hank off as Charles looked passed him to see Alex shhing the wailing bundle of sheets he held in his arms.

"Is that a baby, Hank?"
"Yes, we found him on the doorstep."
"Aww look Havok's gook with children." Alex glared at Sean as the crying stopped.

"I'm not. That's it I'm going back to bed. Here, Professor. I think he's for you." Alex dropped the bundle of sheets into his lap as he strolled to his room. He paused and pushed Hank's glasses into his chest. Charles caught the squirming damp bundle, quickly moving to support the baby's head and making a note to Havok to handle the child with more care next time. Once the squirming had stopped and the baby was settled in the crook of his arm, he pushed the sides of the rough sheet aside to see the child for the first time since the clanging began. The baby was small, a few days old, a week maybe more and light in his arm. His eyes meet golden ones that stood out in short dark blue fur. The baby shivered and Charles places a hand on his cheek feeling the soft wet fur before moving to a point ear and gasping at the cold. The baby reached up and wrapped his three-fingered hand around Charles' finger. He soon began to cry though.

"Ok I'm going to bed." Sean walked off to his room. Charles turned to Hank.

"Oh don't even think about it Hank. Go get him one of the softer heavier blankets from the hall closet. Then I want answers. I- we'll be in the kitchen." Hank sighed because he was thinking about sleeping. He was the one that found the baby on the doorstep in the rain but the crying had woken up Alex and had gotten Sean's attention from where he had been chatting up some 'girl' online. The baby wasn't wrapped in anything and getting the baby to be was a lot hard than one would hypothesize. The young scientist hypothesized correctly that the baby was freezing so he grabbed the biggest blanket the closet held and headed toward the kitchen. The water-blurred note in his pocket was heavier than a truck stop napkin should be.

"Here Professor. Oh watch out for the-" The warning however was too late. The baby's arrow point tail that had cut Banshee's arm was freed from the sheets and proceeded to knock everything it could reach (bills for the contractors, a basket of fruit) off onto the floor.

"Tail."

"Our little friend has a tail." Charles smiled down at the mystery babe that lay looking at him from the seam of his legs. He managed with less trouble than the three before to swaddle the baby. The young mutant yawned, feeling warm and safe, and snuggled into the Professor's arms and closed his golden eyes.
"Hank, who is our little friend? Where did he come from?"

"I found him laying on the doorstep with nothing but this" Hank pulled the napkin from his pocket and handed it to Charles.
"I can only make out a couple words and some names. Yours and I'm guessing his." He studied the blue stained paper and he could make out only a few words like: raise, me, son, please.
"Nightcrawler or Kurt?"
"Both. If this child belongs to who I think, he does then both."
"Well he belongs to us now Hank. Kurt belongs to us." With his words the telepath drew little Kurt closer and held the napkin closer. He would raise, love and protect this child.