Hey everyone: To clarify for the rest of the fanfic, Jemaine is Kurt's childhood friend, not Margali's daughter and Stephan is Margali's son, he just wasn't there for the other flashbacks. =P. There is a reference in here from Uncanny X-men issue 416, see if you can find it. And I am outraged at Evo's changing of Toad's real name, so for the purpose of this fanfic, he will be using his original name. Big thanks go out to my reviewers who have really kept my spirits high! Please keep reviewing! Chapter 5 will be up soon. Anyways, Enjoy.

The teacher held out the black bag, and Kurt stared at it, unblinking, as if it was a bottomless pit threatening to suck him inside. He gulped.

"W-was?"

"I said, remove your watch." Kurt resisted the urge to teleport away as he noticed the four brotherhood boys looking at him knowingly. Mortimer Toynbee was openly grinning, slightly yellow-tinted teeth bared unabashedly, eyes twinkling with anticipation of Kurt's potential humiliation, and as accompaniment, the three other brotherhood boys behind him gave Kurt malicious smiles, which was not helping him in thinking of a suitable excuse.

After searching the gym frantically for the inspiration to a miraculous excuse, Kurt gave up and merely shook his head, resigned. This resulted in snickers from the boys standing in the gym, causing Kurt to blush a rich violet under his hologram. The teacher, Coach Garner, raised one thick eyebrow.

"No?"

"Um, nein." Snicker, snicker, snicker.

"And may I ask why not?" Kurt glanced down.

"Because I... um..." Scheiße. What possible reason is there not to go swimming?

"Es tut mir leid, I'm sorry, Herr Garner. But I am afraid I must decline." The teacher sighed, frustrated over what must have seemed like adolescent insolence, and rubbed a hand down his face, as Mortimer and Lance turned red from suppressing laughter and possibly derogatory insults they had prepared.

"Kurt..." Coach Garner said. "This is your last warning." Again, growing more dejected by the minute, Kurt hung his head as he shook it, but Garner was in his peripheral vision.

Kurt barely saw him lunge for his watch, but there was enough time for him to whip his hand away. There was just enough time for Kurt to give a look of abject horror, and then Kurt did what he knew he would eventually have to do, if here instead of Germany.

He ran... once again.

"DETENTION AFTER SCHOOL, WAGNER!" was heard from behind him as well as confused snickering as Kurt launched himself against the door, and ran out of the school grounds as fast as he could on two legs, until he found his way into the woods and ran deep into the contours of the forest. The trees whipped past his face, calming him, and the dirt felt familiar under his feet. When he was deep enough into the mass of thick green flora for no one to see him, he turned off his hologram, dropped down to all fours and began to hurtle through the foliage naturally. He relaxed a little at the feeling and ran a few minutes more, enjoying being able to be himself without anyone there to see. At a certain point, though, he stopped, climbed up into a tree, and perched in a branch, lost in his own thoughts.

Herr Professor is going to be not pleased with me when he finds out how I handled that. Kurt sighed. How had he gotten himself into this mess?

Oh, that's right. By being born blue. He flipped his tail around behind him, unashamed at the moment. Any other student would have taken off his watch, changed into the swim trunks, and have finished the class normally without having to worry about hiding his tail. Verdammt tail... Tail of the devil...

Der Schwanz des Teufels.

He groaned in frustration that the memory found its way back into his mind, and leaped to another tree, perching at his newly claimed spot now as he tried to lift his slightly dampened mood. He looked at his odd hand for a moment, watching the three large, fur cloaked fingers tint yellow in the sheer gold light of his eyes, and scrutinizing, look intently as in a flicker, it became pale, smooth, and the two fingers split into four. If he didn't keep his fingers too far apart from each other, in an eternal star trek reference, he himself might never be able to tell the difference between his own hand and say, Scott's.

That was why Kitty liked him better like this. There was no semblance of a strange, deformed monster in these five, clear appendages. Like this, he was a boy, no demon.

...Dämon.

...Ungeheur.

...Missbildung.

Not looking like this.

Kurt checked his watch, actually looking at the time, and then put his hand down. He still had about an hour and a half left until detention. He decided right there that he would not skip it; it was not worth getting into more trouble. What would he be missing out on with his friends while he sat in that room? Probably not too much.

If anything interesting happened, they'll all tell me when I get home.

He turned his watch back off and finally felt like he had gotten his earlier nightmare out of his head. But he somehow knew that more would soon follow. There was a certain theme to these nightmares, these memories of the worst events in his life; it was quite clear to see, and once one was unrepressed, he knew from experience that the rest would quickly follow like a continuous stream, one leading in to the next. Kurt jumped again, easily hitching onto a branch at the top, already virtually impossible to find, hidden amongst the shadows of the branches.

Why am I starting to have these dreams again now? I haven't thought about them this often in such a long time. First that one a month ago... and the one last night... It's probably best not to be alone with my thoughts for a while. I don't want to think about them right now... With an odd sort of peace, Kurt Wagner made the best out of the time he had left to himself, smiling with a sort of tranquil peace.

"Unser Vater wer Kunst im Himmel. Geheiligt, Ihr Name sein..."

And prayed.

When it was time for him to go to his intended punishment, his stomach was rumbling as he had skipped lunch to sit solitarily at the tops of the trees, so he teleported to the parking lot of the school, and walked inside from there, not wanting to give in to the temptations of food he might pass if he was to walk. He passed numerous people in the hall, including Kitty, who gave him a tiny smile and then looked away shyly, hair falling in her face as she did so. He returned it with a wide grin, and his disposition drastically improved as he walked to the detention room, almost strutting.

He passed Evan in the halls and the boy greeted him casually, bulging backpack slung over his shoulder."

"Hey Kurt."

"Hallo, Evan. How's it happening?"

"Fine. Coming to rent the movie for tonight?" Kurt cringed. He did want to come to rent the movie, or someone, he didn't know who, but there was always someone, would suggest a horror movie, and then three would be chosen, causing either the inevitably long debate over which, or causing everyone too watch all three, going to sleep at four in the morning.

"Nein, I can't." He shrugged. "Detention."

"Oh, man, that sucks. What for?"

"I had swim. Vouldn't take off my vatch." Evan game him a sympathetic nod of his head, before continuing down the halls.

"Well, see you at the mansion. Movie starts after dinner, and dinner's at seven. Don't be late!"

"Ja, Tschüs, Evan. Bye." He pulled the door open and stepped inside, seeing Coach Garner sitting at the desk at the front, watching him with beady black eyes.

"Take a seat, Mr. Wagner." Kurt sighed.

"Jawohl."

Taking a seat, he winced as his tail, which he had lazily tucked into his pant leg, curled around his leg, began to ache in protesting pain and twitch involuntarily, searching for escape. He shifted some to take the pressure off of it, as he could not perch as he usually did on the chair, and it settled down. Kurt absently pulled out a piece of paper and a pencil, thinking he might as well do somethingto pass the time. Considering he was the only person in the room, there wasn't much chance for socializing throughout detention.

Sitting there, sullen and bored, Kurt tapped the paper impatiently, not knowing what to do, and Coach Garner mumbled to himself, quietly, but loud enough for Kurt's sensitive ears to catch what he said.

"Dumb kid, don't see what coulda been so bad if he'd given me that damn watch..." Kurt clenched his teeth, and his eyes glowed molten gold fury behind his disguise. The light was still there, it just didn't show up on the hologram. It projected through the paper though, and Kurt looked away from it.

No, Herr Garner. You don't know. You haven't the slightest idea.

Sitting there in that chair, Kurt watched the clock and began to wonder if the hands went backwards when he wasn't looking. So far, it had only been eight minutes. If he had still gone to school in Germany, then his teacher would have understood...

Ah, ja. Frau Kriemhilde. She was the best teacher there was. She was always nice to me; she let me wear my trench coat in class, she understood if I needed to run on four legs instead of two when we did gym, she always tried to punish the kids who picked on me... I wish Frau Kriemhilde was teaching here. She came to visit me after she took our class out for my ninth birthday...

Kurt banged his head on the desk. He would be thinking about that all day now, and not the fun ppart when Frau Kriemhilde visited afterwards. And so, running out of options to p[ass the time, Kurt began to count the windows.

Ein, Zwei, Drie, Vier, Fünf, Sechs, Sieben, Acht... Acht. Eight, Eight windows.

Well, that was short-lived.

He picked up the pencil, holding it awkwardly in his unique hand. So he began drawing idle doodles on his paper, hoping to pass the time mindlessly. He settled on drawing a badly drawn version of himself, as Kurt was not the most artistic. This was proved when the crude self-portrait took him the rest of the detention.

As he drew the tail, putting extra careful effort into it as it was his most-liked trait, he stared at the picture. It had all his basic qualities, the ears, the pathetic attempt at drawing fur, the tridactyl hands, the strange digigrade feet, the tail...

He didn't look like a human. But he didn't look like any of the other mutants either.

Mainly because they mostly look like humans.

So what was he?

Ich bin nicht ein Dämon. He thought. But the memories he had swiftly ruled that out as a certainty.

"You are a mutant, Kurt." He remembered the professor telling him. So then why did other mutants not recognize him as one of their own? This line of questions didn't make Kurt angry at anything; who's fault was it he was blue? It just made him feel a little bit isolated.

"Detention time is over, Mr. Wagner." He heard, the six words he needed to snap back to reality. Kurt stood up happily, excited at the prospect of buying some food at long last and at the later movie(s) he would be watching.

"Danke, Herr Garner." He stood up and walked away, leaving the doodle on his desk (it was too badly drawn for anyone to link it to Kurt Wagner, foreign exchange student, and it would probably be thrown out by the janitor before the day was out), and was out the door when he heard Coach Garner's voice.

"Hey Wagner," he called. Kurt turned around to see the coach holding up his doodling.

"Ja?"

"What is this?" he indicated the doodle of Kurt. Kurt looked at the picture, and then back at Coach Garner, giving a little wistful smile.

"I don't know."

When he knew he was alone in the hall, he teleported behind one of his favourite burger places, and then walked to the door, counting the money he had in his wallet.

"Can I help you?" the girl at the counter asked. Kurt had to smile. It was a girl he knew, from school. He couldn't remember her name, but she had Light brown coloured hair which she streaked with mauve highlights. They actually looked good against her tanned skin, huge brown eyes, and friendly smile.

"Hi,-" he looked down at her nametag quickly, "-Taisa." Hmm, greek name. She smiled and mouthed "Hi, Kurt."

"Can I have three burgers, two fries and a large coke?" he asked, and she arched her eyebrows, seeing how he was ordering enough food three people for himself but then said "Sure." And charged him.

When she gave him the food, he thanked her and she winked. Kurt walked back to the mansion, and once inside, turned off his watch with his tail, as his hands were full of food, and teleported to his room, ravenously hungry by now. He looked into the bag that held his food, and noticed something on the side.

555-5878

~Call me!

Taisa 3

As he ate, Kurt felt a growing warmth in his chest. Girls liked him when he wore his hologram. Maybe he would call Taisa... That was quickly dismissed as he tore into his burgers like one possessed. As he ate, he tried to ignore the fact that the principal would most likely talk to him within the next week for skipping the three classes after gym, and wolfed down his food. He sent the remainder of the day in his room, his earlier thoughts of Frau Kriemhilde making him feel strangely homesick, and when he was called down for dinner several hours later, turned on the watch and was determined to rant about it. He teleported to the kitchen, and took a seat across from Kitty, like he usually did.

As they ate, Kurt started up the conversation, asking if anyone else was homesick. Surprisingly, and much to Kurt's liking, it was Kitty who piped in about homesickness, and the two began talking about their respective experiences with the mansion away from their family. As people around smiled at the two getting along so well, something they knew Kurt had wanted since she came here, Scott was a little anxious.

"Kurt, man, you can turn off your watch, you know." Kurt looked at him, and his smile faltered a little, for a split second, before he patched it up again and blinked.

"No, Scott, I'm ok. Danke." Instantaneously, he turned to Kitty again, marvelling at his newfound conversationalist, but Scott was apprehensive.

What's wrong? Jean asked him from across the room, in his head.

Scott looked back over at Kurt, who seemed very happy.

Nothing, It's just... Kurt seems to be more comfortable like this right now, and it's kind of making me uneasy.

More comfortable than what? Jean asked.

More comfortable... than in his own skin.