"You're talkin' about a person's mind here, about Jean!" Logan said angrily.
Charles felt a throbbing in his head. After everything that had happened he wanted to tell Logan to go away, to stay out of things he didn't understand. He wanted to tell him that he suspected Scott was dead, that he had failed him. Charles would later have the burden of telling Alex his suspicions as penance, something that he dreaded.
Whether or not Logan realized it The Cure was going to change everything. Charles wanted to make sure that he understood. He wanted to tell him that he felt like the world was dangerously teetering between chaos and stability. The wrong nudge could tip it over and he felt that Jean was that nudge.
Charles wanted to tell Logan that hard choices had to be made, and at the moment his choice, if he wanted to save Jean, was to set up the mental blocks or kill her. He couldn't let it come to that; she had been his student and he protected his students. Already he had failed Scott; he wouldn't fail Jean too. He wished he could make Logan understand that.
Instead he said;
"She has to be controlled."
"Control? You know, sometimes when you cage the beast, the beast gets angry."
Did Logan think that Charles didn't know that? A muscle in his jaw twitched. How could he make him see? For years he'd been trying to make people see but he felt like he was failing abysmally time after time. Rallying his strength he tried one last time, the pressure of the last few days weighing down on him.
"I had a choice to make," he said, "I chose the lesser of two evils."
"Sounds like Jean didn't have a choice at all," Logan grunted.
He wanted to bang his head against the wall. Nothing was going right and once more he felt responsible. He hadn't caused this burden but he would have to carry it anyway. Why couldn't Logan try to understand? Did he think this was easy for him? Did he think that it had ever been easy for him?
When he'd sealed away Jean's powers it had come on the heels of watching his eight-year-old son scream and try to bash his head in while restrained by his mother. Charles had immediately dived into his son's mind, not quite knowing what was wrong but determined to help. Flames had spurted all around him, consuming everything. Screams echoed there. Charles had never seen a mind in such a state, let alone David's.
He'd made his way to him though, frantically calling out his name. Finally David had responded in a mixture between a scream and a sob. Charles had found him being clawed at by other minds, each trying to assert control. He'd realized what had happened and charged in. He had fought them off and taken his son into his arms, trying to keep him away from the other minds and the harm they wanted to inflict.
The flames had died down then, but not enough. He realized then that he couldn't get the other minds out, not without doing permanent damage to his son's mind and health. Still holding David he had concocted the idea of psychic barriers to cage the other personalities. It would work as long as it was self-sustaining.
So he'd searched for the strength, hoping that his own powers would be enough to directly protect another psychic's mind in a lasting way. They weren't. He realized that he would have to seal away parts of David's own powers to keep the cages in full strength. He'd have to make a choice, and fast. They were establishing themselves quickly.
Feeling horrible he'd delved deeper into his son's power sources and seen things he'd never expected. Charles had always been struck by the fact that David had manifested his powers as a baby. Only then did he realize it was because those weren't his only powers. Deep within him he saw that in a few years pyro kinesis, teleportation, super speed, flight, X-ray vision, heat absorption, super strength, matter animation and sonic screams would make themselves known. It might have already been preparing to be revealed.
All of those powers would have to be sacrificed if his son was to live as anything other than a raving lunatic in the thralls of terrorists. They would be the only things strong enough to hold all of them off. He'd sobbed then because he'd realized he was hobbling his own son because of something that was his fault. David would never even be able to have a choice in the matter; his own son was panicking too much to hold a coherent conversation.
So Charles had cannibalized his son's powers and blocked off the terrorists. When David had turned fourteen he'd taken him aside and, with the burden of six years of guilt on him, had explained what he'd done to his son. David had listened, something between hurt and acceptance showing on his face. Upon finishing David had said, his voice quiet;
"You didn't have a choice. It…it's alright. I'd rather be sane than powerful."
His words had never fully alleviated his guilt. The fact that he had had to do the same thing with Jean's powers afterwards was like reliving a nightmare. Now he was being openly criticized for something that he'd struggled to do, had left him feeling wrong. It was like being Stryker and he recognized it as such even at the time it was happening.
When he'd first explained what he'd done to David and Jean to Moira it had felt like a confession. She had had to hold him those first nights, physically the first and mentally the second. Even then he was still left with the feeling that he had crippled two minors, one of which was his own child.
Anger made a rational response to Logan's words die in his throat. Instead he snapped;
"I don't have to explain myself to you."
Kurt had never seen his aunt so angry, so upset. He understood. Her husband and son were both mutants. They had been mutants as long as she had known them and she had dedicated her life to helping other mutants. Her work was being nullified and people were insinuating that there was something wrong with her family, something that needed to be 'cured'.
If he wanted to be generous he knew that he too was part of that family. He could see the worried looks she sent his way. Moira was wondering how badly this would hurt him. It was touching but he saw that she had a lot on her mind at the moment. Panic and whispers were running through the Island and she was doing her best to calm them.
He assisted her, mostly focusing on the younger children. TJ was especially was affected. Although not fully comprehending she had caught onto the mood. Luna too seemed to be struck by it. She had been with TJ being babysat when the rest of the Island found out. She was crying and rocking back and forth, refusing to be comforted.
Lorna had had to be called in. She knelt down as her daughter whispered;
"Everyone's bwue and white. And there's silvew now. Make them stop mama. Don't be bwue. Don't be silvew. Pwease mama."
Lorna had just held her and said quietly;
"It's going to be okay."
To his surprise Kurt had seen her start to murmur a few soft words in German. He recognized them as words of comfort, but Lorna had never spoken German before in his hearing. She picked her up and rocked her, still whispering those same words. Luna fell asleep soon and Lorna looked up and caught him staring.
"My father did that to me once when I was upset," she said, "It…it worked."
Remembering who her father was Kurt gave her a shocked look. Lorna had picked up Luna then and, with a sigh, taken her back to her house. He'd put TJ to sleep later, feeling troubled. TJ had asked him to stay at her bedside until she fell asleep since she was worried. Her big eyes had looked at him as she said;
"Everyone's all afraid."
Kurt had obliged and he watched her sleeping form. He'd been there for a long time. Outside the door there was so much pain and fear. He didn't want to be part of it if he didn't have to be, although he knew he would soon. Feeling despondent he glanced at his watch. It was nearly midnight; he'd have to leave for his lessons soon. If Azazel had been unwilling to cancel lessons because Kurt was heartbroken he doubted he'd stop for The Cure.
The door creaked and he saw Amanda come in. She gave him a small smile before standing next to him.
"She asleep?" she asked.
"Ja," answered Kurt, "Has been for a few minutes."
"We should leave then," Amanda whispered, "Let her get her rest. You need some too."
Kurt nodded and allowed Amanda to lead him out of the room. She closed the door behind them and stood with him.
"I got some of the pictures taken at Christmas," she said, her voice sounding strained under a false casualness, "Took me a few weeks to find a good developer so they just got done. I don't know which ones you'd want."
"Vhichever vones you do not."
Amanda bit her lip before cupping his face in her hands.
"You okay?" she asked.
"I need to be somevhere. Now ist not ze time to-" he started.
Amanda shook her head.
"It's okay, you can tell me."
Sighing he took her hand and started walking to the courtyard. Snow was falling there and it was cold despite the fact that it was spring. Although Amanda had a coat on Kurt took her in his arms when they sat down. He enjoyed feeling her warmth, the comfort she offered him. Without saying anything Amanda scooched closer and fisted a hand on his chest.
"I do not vant ze Cure," he said quietly.
"No one said you did," Amanda said.
"Nein, zey did not," Kurt said, "But I know some out zere zink; he looks strange. Of course he vould like ze Cure. Zat vas vhy it vas made."
Her fingertips touched his neck and he drew her closer.
"But I do not," he said, "I know vhat I look like; some sort of demon."
"You-"
"Miene engel," sighed Kurt, "I know vhat I look like. I know you do not see me as such, but it is how ozzers see me."
He paused, trying to get his words together.
"But ze Lord made me zis vay for a reason," he said, "Und ja, it has hindered me sometimes. It has caused hurt."
His voice trailed off.
"I vas experimented on vonce," Kurt said quietly.
Amanda stiffened in his arms, turning to look at him. His eyes met hers.
"I vas put under mind control and nearly killed ze President," he said, the words choking him, "Zat ist vhat the mark on ze back of my neck ist; I am sure you haf noticed. Ze vound in my shoulder came from vhen I vas shot to prevent me from doing so."
Tears were gathering in her eyes and she clutched the cloth of his shirt tighter. One of his hands came up to brush away her tears.
"But zis ist who I am," he said, "I still zink zere is a reason for it. I vas able to save miene Onkel and children because I could teleport. I could bring miene lieber Vetter to Vashington to help Herr McCoy vhen he needed to because I vas special. I haf saved lives. I haf done good vith this. It is a gift. I see no reason for a cure, but I know zat some do not see vhat zey haf as a gift. For zem zey vill take zis cure und regret it later. Zey vill haf taken a part of zemselves avay forever vith no chance of getting it back. I vill not lose myself zat vay. I pity zhoze zat made it and zhoze who vill take it. Zey are destroying themselves and ozzers under ze idea zat zey are helping."
Amanda was openly crying now.
"Do not cry engel," he said.
She shook her head.
"I love you Kurt," Amanda said, "I'm sure of it. But I just…how can you do this? Go on every day and know that there are people who try to 'cure' you? No one's ever tried to cure my skin or hair…I don't understand why they do that to you and you can just forgive them like that and…that's something different about you, how you forgive. Where does something like that come from?"
A terrorist mother and God only knows who my father was, he thought.
Instead he took a deep breath out and thought about the rosary in his pocket that he had carried all his life. He smiled.
"Faith."
Her eyes widened. She pushed her face up and kissed him fiercely. Amanda was still crying, allowing him to taste her tears against her soft lips. She had been the first woman he'd kissed, the first woman he'd let himself imagine kissing and holding close. While he knew that he hadn't been the first one to kiss her he selfishly wanted to be the last. Kurt wondered if that was some sort of sin, that innate selfishness.
His hands gripped her tightly, trying not to let his fingers dig into her back but always wanting her closer. The woman in his arms was a gift to him, someone placed in his life at exactly the right time like his family. She was something precious that he knew he needed to protect and keep. If she would let him he would happily do that for the rest of his life.
She parted from him and took a deep breath. Her heart locket dangled from her neck as she leaned up against his chest. Calmly he kissed her in the hollow of her throat where the necklace usually rested. She took a sharp breath in as her hands tangled in his hair. When he stopped she rested her head in the crook of his neck, cuddling up against him.
"This is cute."
Kurt turned and suppressed a groan. Azazel was standing up against the wall, his tail swishing back and forth in amusement. Amanda turned and looked at him, confusion coming into her eyes. Feeling obliged to break the silence that was rapidly becoming awkward Kurt coughed.
"Amanda, zis ist miene teacher for teleportation, Azazel," he said, "And Azazel-"
"You have spoken of her," said Azazel.
He looked at Amanda in a way that Kurt could only describe as appraising. The look didn't make him comfortable. Kurt didn't know why but that look made something inside him twist. He didn't know the reason for the look or why it gave him a sense of foreboding and he shook it off.
"Hi," Amanda said, getting up and extending her hand.
Azazel looked at her hand and teleported so that he was right in front of her. She blinked in surprise and coughed from the smoke. However, she didn't jump as he took her hand and she met his eyes. The appraising look continued for a few more seconds until Azazel gave a brief nod. It was almost as if he had somehow deemed Amanda acceptable.
"Zdra-stvu-eetee," he said, "I was waiting for Kurt to come to his lesson."
"Oh, he said he had somewhere to go," Amanda said, letting go, "Sorry I…kept him."
She blushed and Azazel laughed.
"Not my business," he said.
Amanda gave a weak smile before walking out of the courtyard. She stopped briefly at Kurt to touch his forehead and whisper;
"See you tomorrow."
Then she was gone. Kurt sighed and got to his feet.
"So, that was the devochka that had you in such a frenzy," Azazel said, looking speculative, "You do not waste time."
Kurt flushed and looked at the sky.
"Word of warning to save heartache," said Azazel, "Put ring on her finger before you put a child in her. Less chance of her leaving."
His stomach flipped and he jerked his head up.
"Vhat on earth-?"
"I am just saying," Azazel smirked, "You two do not seem to be shy-"
"Gott in Hiemmel!" exclaimed Kurt, "It ist not like zat!"
"No need to be defensive. Perfectly normal. You are right age for it, the two of you," said Azazel, "But not outside. There are too many people and it is cold."
"Ve are not…vere not," sputtered Kurt, "Vait, vhy are ve talking about zis?"
Azazel's smirk appeared again and he held up his hands.
"Just advice, since it worked so well the last time," he said, "Now, teleporting."
Kurt shuddered, knowing he was in for a hard session. He had to be focused when he teleported and he couldn't focus when he was thinking about that.
A/N: Just to clarify; Legion is actually a super mutant. He has manifested all of those powers mentioned at one point or another, although I wanted to focus on his telepathy for this story. Also, I thought it would work as good reason why Charles got so pissed at Logan during that scene.