Wow, nice reviews, lol. Keep'm coming, and the chapters will keep coming.
Unless my computer crashes and fanfiction.net crashes and everything is
lost, but I hope that that wont happen. This starts from Milana's POV.
Oh yeah, I never claimed to be good at writing accents, please bear with me for not making Kurt's accent always visible or whatever my friends have been telling me, that also goes for Kurt lovers out there, I SUCK AT ACCENTS!!!
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"Milana? Milana!" Someone's voice was whispering my name, getting louder and fainter all the time. The voice was familiar, who was it? Ow, my back hurts. Pain, am I married to the feeling or something? Jeez, every time I do something I end up in pain.
Someone was clutching my arm tightly; it was cutting off the circulation to my hands and fingers. It was incredibly dark, there was no light anywhere. Then I realized why it was so dark; my eyes were closed. That may be the problem.
"Milana, vake up!" the voice again. I opened my eyes and found that it was still dark, though I could make out a figure above me. I blinked for a moment, then realized who it was. My father. God, how had I not recognized him before? A month in the same home, seeing eachother every day and both of us seeing eachother and wondering where we had met before.
"Kurt?" I mumbled. Well, if I could get angry enough to kill someone and figure out exactly why Kurt was so familiar to me, why couldn't I talk? The blue man gasped at the sound of his name, and I realized that if you don't use your voice in more than two years, it can get a bit raspy and quiet when you do decide to break your silence.
"Are you alright?" he asked finally. I looked at him and tried to move, but a jolt of pain so intense I let out a small cry shot up my back; this coming from the silent Ghost. I could practically feel the little piece of lead in my body, jumping around and having a lead poisoning party with all the little germs it let in. Funny how those small things can hurt so much, huh? So in reply I shook my head and muttered a faint "No."
When someone asks if you're alright, you're supposed to say "Yes, thank you. And how are you?", not "No, I have a bullet in my back and I just found out that you are my father,". Well I never said I did the right thing all the time, now did I? Then I remembered; school, how could I forget about that?
"Where, where are the men?" I wheezed, aware I sounded much worse than I felt. Kurt smiled at me.
"They are gone, ve drove them off. The electricity vos cut off, but ve are all doing fine. Turn over." Painfully I rolled onto my back, realizing I was on the floor of the rec room. Kurt lifted my shirt slightly to get a better look at the hole in me, and I could hear him sigh. "It bad?" I asked.
"No, not at all; Hank can patch it up easily," he said. I could tell he was lying. Besides, since when does being shot be fixed by a little patch up? Suddenly the lights came on, and I winced as my eyes tried to adjust to the blinding light.
"They got the lights back on," Kurt muttered. He bent down and picked my up gently, then put me on a couch, not really noticing that blood was spilling on the white fabric.
"I remembered," I said. My voice was getting clearer, more like it was before I went mute for a while. "Who you are-" but Kurt raised a hand, smiling softly.
"Yes, I have also." He said. He smiled at me sadly and then we just hugged, I don't even know how long we just sat there in eachother's arms, and soft tears spilling down both our cheeks. Right then my back couldn't have felt better, and I didn't feel any thing but amazement that I had found my father, who I had often wondered what happened to after my mother had been killed and my house destroyed.
After a while we heard an "Ahem," behind us, and Kurt broke away and we looked at the doorway. Logan was there, his shirt torn and some blood on his cloths, smiling with his arms folded across his chest.
"What's up?" he asked.
"Hey Logan," I said. His jaw dropped.
"Since when have you said anything?" he asked. Kurt laughed a little and then seemed to notice the blood all over the couch.
"Ve have to get you to the med-bay," he said. I winced as he picked me up again, careful not to touch the wound. Then I suddenly found myself in the med-bay, where Hank was busy cleaning up the stuff that had been knocked to the floor. He looked up and gasped when he saw the blood trickling onto the floor.
"What happened?" he asked.
"I was looking for you guys and was found," I said, wincing as Kurt put me on one of the medical tables. Hank starred at me for a moment after hearing my voice, then shrugged and rushed to get bandages and such. A bit later I was sitting up and painfully checking out the bandaged wound on my back. The bullet itself was lying beside me, so small and lying in a little pool of blood. I picked it up and looked at it, then threw it into the trash and began to stand up. Kurt, Dad, rushed over immediately and pushed me back. It had been hard enough to convince him and Hank to let me sit up, so I could forget standing.
"Come on, I can!" I said.
"No, you must rest nov," he said sternly. God, he knows I'm his kid for ten minutes and he's already perfecting that bossy Daddy tone. I was glad to hear it though, not having a parent since I was four made me appreciate the bossiness more than I would if I had. Thinking about that made me remember my mother, and that filled me with a sadness and curiosity. I had never really known her, had Dad? Were they divorced or what? I couldn't remember him very well from when I was little. He must have remembered who she was. Her last name must have been Kendent, since Dad's last name was Wagner, but I didn't remember her first name.
"Vot's vrong?" Dad asked, I realized I had been frowning and starring off into space.
"What was my mother's first name?" I asked. He looked startled, and then his face fell. I felt guilty immediately, the look of pain on his face was almost unbearable. I looked away, but he sighed and answered.
"Her name was Maria," he said. "Maria Kendent. She vos very beautiful, like you." I nodded and he rubbed his eyes. Great, I made my father cry.
"How did you know that?" Hank asked. I jumped, winced at the pain shooting up my back again, and I realized that no one besides me or Kurt knew that we were father and daughter. Hank was looking very curious and worried about Kurt, who was still rubbing his eyes.
"Well, she was my mother and he is my father, I would hope he knows her name." I said conversationally, though I was blinking rapidly myself. Hank looked thunderstruck.
"What?" he gasped. Kurt lowered his hands but still didn't look at me. He mumbled something about food and then disappeared. Hank turned to me. "Kurt is your father?" he asked. I nodded, and Hank sat down hard. "How long have you known? How long has he?" he asked.
"Um, I remembered right before I was shot, and I have no idea how long he's known." I said. How long had he known? That was a rather disturbing thought, if he had known for more than a day, then he had been keeping a secret from me, and I hate that. I hadn't heard him talking about it ever, he was always thinking about what was bothering me so I much I had had a mental 'shut down' for a while, in the professor's words. The professor! Did he know before either of us? He could read minds, what if he figured it out and kept the truth from me and Dad, or told my father and both of them kept me in the dark?
Then I realized that what I was saying was ridiculous, and that I needed some sleep. I asked if I could go to my room, but Hank shook his head.
"No, you'll have to stay here for a bit. I want to make sure you don't get an infection." He said. I sighed and lay back down, and Hank excused himself, saying he wanted to go talk to the professor or something. I fell asleep almost immediately.
(NPOV)
Kurt was poking at his food in the cafeteria, starring out the large hole that had been blown in the wall. Since Ororo had blown away her storm the day was left to be clear, sunny, and beautiful. Kurt painfully remembered the day he had proposed to Maria Kendent, that day had been just as beautiful. They had been so happy then, and after Milana was born they doubted that there was a happier couple on earth. Kurt had a job in a circus, and though he sometimes had to leave to go on trips Maria always waited patiently for him to return home, taking care of Milana and the house they lived in.
When Milana was four he had to go another trip, though the circus manager had promised if he did he wouldn't have to go on another for a year, He had returned to find his home leveled to the ground, and his wife's body in pieces everywhere. There was no sign of his daughter. He had been found days later by a friend of his from the circus, who had come to see him and Maria and Milana. He had found Kurt a complete wreck, dirty and weak, and laying in a heap, crying his heart out and asking God why he had done this to him.
His friend had taken him back to the circus, and Kurt had tried to get over his wife's death and the overwhelming probability that Milana was also dead. Then he had been found by Stryker and then the X Men, and here he was today, his daughter found alive and the painful memories resurfacing so fast he couldn't control what he was thinking about.
"Hey, how's the kid?" Logan asked, sitting across from him with a large plate of food. Kurt jumped a little, startled at being pulled out of deep thought so suddenly.
"She is fine, and vanting to get up," he said with a weak smile. Logan was instantly suspicious.
"What's wrong, elf? You look like you've seen a ghost!" he said. Kurt looked down at his hardly touched food.
"Nothing, just memories," he said. Logan dropped the matter, it was clear the mutant didn't want to discuss the matter anymore.
"Well, we sure have our work cut out for us," he said, changing the subject. "Half the house was blown up, where did they get that many grenades?" Kurt winced; having two homes destroyed was a bit much for the time. Logan noticed this to and got impatient.
"Alright, if something's bugging you so bad we cant talk, then you better tell someone who can help you; I aint good at that shit. Whatever's wrong is obviously horrible, and yeh shouldn't keep that kinda thing in, it aint good for someone like you." Kurt nodded slightly and then disappeared, leaving Logan slightly agitated and huffy.
Kurt had teleported to the hallway outside the professor's office, but now he was wondering if talking to him was what he really wanted to do. However, before he could leave he heard the professor's voice.
"Come in Kurt," the man sighed and opened the door; time to talk.
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Well that's all I can do right now. I'm aware that some of my stuff may be a little out of character, please forgive me, and also please forgive me for making a bit of Kurt's past up. Hopefully Kurt lovers will not be too mad at me.
Oh yeah, I never claimed to be good at writing accents, please bear with me for not making Kurt's accent always visible or whatever my friends have been telling me, that also goes for Kurt lovers out there, I SUCK AT ACCENTS!!!
**************************************************************************** *********
"Milana? Milana!" Someone's voice was whispering my name, getting louder and fainter all the time. The voice was familiar, who was it? Ow, my back hurts. Pain, am I married to the feeling or something? Jeez, every time I do something I end up in pain.
Someone was clutching my arm tightly; it was cutting off the circulation to my hands and fingers. It was incredibly dark, there was no light anywhere. Then I realized why it was so dark; my eyes were closed. That may be the problem.
"Milana, vake up!" the voice again. I opened my eyes and found that it was still dark, though I could make out a figure above me. I blinked for a moment, then realized who it was. My father. God, how had I not recognized him before? A month in the same home, seeing eachother every day and both of us seeing eachother and wondering where we had met before.
"Kurt?" I mumbled. Well, if I could get angry enough to kill someone and figure out exactly why Kurt was so familiar to me, why couldn't I talk? The blue man gasped at the sound of his name, and I realized that if you don't use your voice in more than two years, it can get a bit raspy and quiet when you do decide to break your silence.
"Are you alright?" he asked finally. I looked at him and tried to move, but a jolt of pain so intense I let out a small cry shot up my back; this coming from the silent Ghost. I could practically feel the little piece of lead in my body, jumping around and having a lead poisoning party with all the little germs it let in. Funny how those small things can hurt so much, huh? So in reply I shook my head and muttered a faint "No."
When someone asks if you're alright, you're supposed to say "Yes, thank you. And how are you?", not "No, I have a bullet in my back and I just found out that you are my father,". Well I never said I did the right thing all the time, now did I? Then I remembered; school, how could I forget about that?
"Where, where are the men?" I wheezed, aware I sounded much worse than I felt. Kurt smiled at me.
"They are gone, ve drove them off. The electricity vos cut off, but ve are all doing fine. Turn over." Painfully I rolled onto my back, realizing I was on the floor of the rec room. Kurt lifted my shirt slightly to get a better look at the hole in me, and I could hear him sigh. "It bad?" I asked.
"No, not at all; Hank can patch it up easily," he said. I could tell he was lying. Besides, since when does being shot be fixed by a little patch up? Suddenly the lights came on, and I winced as my eyes tried to adjust to the blinding light.
"They got the lights back on," Kurt muttered. He bent down and picked my up gently, then put me on a couch, not really noticing that blood was spilling on the white fabric.
"I remembered," I said. My voice was getting clearer, more like it was before I went mute for a while. "Who you are-" but Kurt raised a hand, smiling softly.
"Yes, I have also." He said. He smiled at me sadly and then we just hugged, I don't even know how long we just sat there in eachother's arms, and soft tears spilling down both our cheeks. Right then my back couldn't have felt better, and I didn't feel any thing but amazement that I had found my father, who I had often wondered what happened to after my mother had been killed and my house destroyed.
After a while we heard an "Ahem," behind us, and Kurt broke away and we looked at the doorway. Logan was there, his shirt torn and some blood on his cloths, smiling with his arms folded across his chest.
"What's up?" he asked.
"Hey Logan," I said. His jaw dropped.
"Since when have you said anything?" he asked. Kurt laughed a little and then seemed to notice the blood all over the couch.
"Ve have to get you to the med-bay," he said. I winced as he picked me up again, careful not to touch the wound. Then I suddenly found myself in the med-bay, where Hank was busy cleaning up the stuff that had been knocked to the floor. He looked up and gasped when he saw the blood trickling onto the floor.
"What happened?" he asked.
"I was looking for you guys and was found," I said, wincing as Kurt put me on one of the medical tables. Hank starred at me for a moment after hearing my voice, then shrugged and rushed to get bandages and such. A bit later I was sitting up and painfully checking out the bandaged wound on my back. The bullet itself was lying beside me, so small and lying in a little pool of blood. I picked it up and looked at it, then threw it into the trash and began to stand up. Kurt, Dad, rushed over immediately and pushed me back. It had been hard enough to convince him and Hank to let me sit up, so I could forget standing.
"Come on, I can!" I said.
"No, you must rest nov," he said sternly. God, he knows I'm his kid for ten minutes and he's already perfecting that bossy Daddy tone. I was glad to hear it though, not having a parent since I was four made me appreciate the bossiness more than I would if I had. Thinking about that made me remember my mother, and that filled me with a sadness and curiosity. I had never really known her, had Dad? Were they divorced or what? I couldn't remember him very well from when I was little. He must have remembered who she was. Her last name must have been Kendent, since Dad's last name was Wagner, but I didn't remember her first name.
"Vot's vrong?" Dad asked, I realized I had been frowning and starring off into space.
"What was my mother's first name?" I asked. He looked startled, and then his face fell. I felt guilty immediately, the look of pain on his face was almost unbearable. I looked away, but he sighed and answered.
"Her name was Maria," he said. "Maria Kendent. She vos very beautiful, like you." I nodded and he rubbed his eyes. Great, I made my father cry.
"How did you know that?" Hank asked. I jumped, winced at the pain shooting up my back again, and I realized that no one besides me or Kurt knew that we were father and daughter. Hank was looking very curious and worried about Kurt, who was still rubbing his eyes.
"Well, she was my mother and he is my father, I would hope he knows her name." I said conversationally, though I was blinking rapidly myself. Hank looked thunderstruck.
"What?" he gasped. Kurt lowered his hands but still didn't look at me. He mumbled something about food and then disappeared. Hank turned to me. "Kurt is your father?" he asked. I nodded, and Hank sat down hard. "How long have you known? How long has he?" he asked.
"Um, I remembered right before I was shot, and I have no idea how long he's known." I said. How long had he known? That was a rather disturbing thought, if he had known for more than a day, then he had been keeping a secret from me, and I hate that. I hadn't heard him talking about it ever, he was always thinking about what was bothering me so I much I had had a mental 'shut down' for a while, in the professor's words. The professor! Did he know before either of us? He could read minds, what if he figured it out and kept the truth from me and Dad, or told my father and both of them kept me in the dark?
Then I realized that what I was saying was ridiculous, and that I needed some sleep. I asked if I could go to my room, but Hank shook his head.
"No, you'll have to stay here for a bit. I want to make sure you don't get an infection." He said. I sighed and lay back down, and Hank excused himself, saying he wanted to go talk to the professor or something. I fell asleep almost immediately.
(NPOV)
Kurt was poking at his food in the cafeteria, starring out the large hole that had been blown in the wall. Since Ororo had blown away her storm the day was left to be clear, sunny, and beautiful. Kurt painfully remembered the day he had proposed to Maria Kendent, that day had been just as beautiful. They had been so happy then, and after Milana was born they doubted that there was a happier couple on earth. Kurt had a job in a circus, and though he sometimes had to leave to go on trips Maria always waited patiently for him to return home, taking care of Milana and the house they lived in.
When Milana was four he had to go another trip, though the circus manager had promised if he did he wouldn't have to go on another for a year, He had returned to find his home leveled to the ground, and his wife's body in pieces everywhere. There was no sign of his daughter. He had been found days later by a friend of his from the circus, who had come to see him and Maria and Milana. He had found Kurt a complete wreck, dirty and weak, and laying in a heap, crying his heart out and asking God why he had done this to him.
His friend had taken him back to the circus, and Kurt had tried to get over his wife's death and the overwhelming probability that Milana was also dead. Then he had been found by Stryker and then the X Men, and here he was today, his daughter found alive and the painful memories resurfacing so fast he couldn't control what he was thinking about.
"Hey, how's the kid?" Logan asked, sitting across from him with a large plate of food. Kurt jumped a little, startled at being pulled out of deep thought so suddenly.
"She is fine, and vanting to get up," he said with a weak smile. Logan was instantly suspicious.
"What's wrong, elf? You look like you've seen a ghost!" he said. Kurt looked down at his hardly touched food.
"Nothing, just memories," he said. Logan dropped the matter, it was clear the mutant didn't want to discuss the matter anymore.
"Well, we sure have our work cut out for us," he said, changing the subject. "Half the house was blown up, where did they get that many grenades?" Kurt winced; having two homes destroyed was a bit much for the time. Logan noticed this to and got impatient.
"Alright, if something's bugging you so bad we cant talk, then you better tell someone who can help you; I aint good at that shit. Whatever's wrong is obviously horrible, and yeh shouldn't keep that kinda thing in, it aint good for someone like you." Kurt nodded slightly and then disappeared, leaving Logan slightly agitated and huffy.
Kurt had teleported to the hallway outside the professor's office, but now he was wondering if talking to him was what he really wanted to do. However, before he could leave he heard the professor's voice.
"Come in Kurt," the man sighed and opened the door; time to talk.
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Well that's all I can do right now. I'm aware that some of my stuff may be a little out of character, please forgive me, and also please forgive me for making a bit of Kurt's past up. Hopefully Kurt lovers will not be too mad at me.