------
Author's Note:
Greetings.
Read, REVIEW, and enjoy. ;) Pretty please.
Cheers.
Jack
------
I found myself for the second time in as many hours sitting outside watching the stars. Kurt had popped Lance and myself back to the patio and the two of them stayed outside with me for a while. Beat the heck out the party raging inside. The constant hammering of the music just inside the glass doors made me glad I wasn't a telepath.
It was probably somewhere around midnight when Lance said goodnight and left us by the pool. He wanted to stay, he assured me between yawns, but there was a road trip on the schedule for the next day and a bunch of them had to be up early to get going. Oh well. I assumed I wasn't invited on whatever bonding experience Xavier had planned for his students. Just as well. I wasn't sure I'd be up to the task of being that polite on a four- hour bus trip anyway.
That left Kurt out there with me in the late summer evening. We didn't talk much, not more than a couple words at a time. The only sounds were the creaking of his deck chair as he shifted around occasionally and the breeze through the trees. I suppose the ocean was relegated to background noise much like the party going on behind us.
After a while, he stood up. I noticed his tail was twitching like a cat's. Guess this patio furniture hadn't been designed with tails in mind.
"You still want to see that ocean view, ja?"
It took a moment to realize he was talking to me. Shows you just how relaxed I was. I'd have to do something about that. If I let my guard down around here, who knows what would happen. Evan would probably pummel me into street pizza, most likely. For now, though, I just wanted to bask in this comfortable mood I had going.
"Sure," I said, fully expecting to be wrenched across the distance between here and wherever he wanted to go in a heartbeat. Surprise, surprise - he started pushing my wheelchair instead. I wonder if he had as much trouble as I did keeping the impulse to use his powers under control.
We walked along in silence for a few minutes. He did, anyway. I think I squeaked every time the chair hit a rock or dip in the grass. The Doc and Hank seemed to think I was well enough to be up and about, but the truth was I felt like a gigantic bruise. Hopefully it would pass.
We ended up at the very edge of the yard, overlooking the Atlantic Ocean from the top of a cliff that had to be five hundred feet high. Did he have to park me that close to the edge? I mean, I could almost look straight down the side of the cliff. The rocks at the bottom looked rather menacing from this angle. Maybe this was Xavier's way of getting me out of the way. Just take the trash out to the back yard and toss it over the edge, right?
Paranoid? Me? Just a little, I guess.
Kurt settled on the grass a couple feet away and stretched out with a relaxing sigh. My own tension started bleeding away as I took in the scene. The ocean was a glowing cobalt blue just like he'd said earlier and the sound it made when it crashed against the rocks below me was actually sort of soothing. The waves rippled the moonlight, skewing it into strange and interesting angles across the surface. I think I even saw something jump out of the water at one point.
"Nice." For once my mouth couldn't find the words.
"Ja." He rolled over on his side to face me and I could see the moon reflecting off his eyes in the dark. "I come out here vhen I vant to get away from the noise. Peaceful, no?"
"Yeah, tell me about it." He was acting funny, which sort of spoiled the mood. I could feel his eyes on me even after I turned back to the ocean. "If you're going to ask me something, do it."
I caught his frown out of the corner of my eye and almost regretted my tone. Almost. Being nice to Xavier's brats was a little beyond my capability at the moment. I'd been freakin' broken because of this one. Surely the bald guy wouldn't begrudge me a little attitude as a result.
"Well?"
I glanced over at Kurt, who was chewing on a blade of grass. I had to strain to hear him.
"Vhy? Vhy did you do it?"
Oh, good. A question I'd been expecting. Too bad I still didn't have a good reason. "I don't know," I said. Lying might have felt good, but I couldn't come up with a good lie, either. I replayed the scene in my mind, scowling at the water below as though the answer would just appear on the surface.
Father had floated up into the air with the White Queen in that hangar. Once Red had arrived and started breaking his little pig-stickers, it looked like Magneto was going to split. Kurt had been teleporting Logan's bleeding body all over the place to avoid Dad's needles and somehow ended up on top of the little CRJ plane. Dad looked at Logan and gave one of his usual patronizing speeches. Kurt crouched over Logan, putting his body between Dad and Logan. Dad responded by calling a huge, and I mean HUGE, needle into the air and sending it shooting toward them.
I frowned. I couldn't remember my reasoning at that point. I got a good running start and streaked across the hangar, ignoring the fact that the venom was giving me a migraine and making me twinge. I couple nanoseconds later, I was on the roof of the plane, diving between Dad and Kurt.
For the briefest of moments, I saw Dad's eyes and his expression was an odd one. It almost looked as though he was going to turn the needle aside at the last moment but then his face went blank and his eyes narrowed. And that's when the hypodermic skewered me.
I found my hands twitching over the bandage under the gaudy shirt I was wearing and forced them to be still. Mustn't look weak in front of the X-Geeks.
"You don't know?" Kurt asked.
I tried meeting his eyes, but found myself looking away quickly.
"No, I don't." I looked out at the ocean, wishing he would stop looking at me like that. His expression was unnerving. "Why do you care, anyway? Why didn't you just pop yourself out of there?" There. I'd make him start answering the awkward questions. No reason I should be the only uncomfortable one around here.
"I couldn't 'port anymore. No more," he paused, thinking, "juice."
Interesting way of putting it. "You ran out of gas?"
"Uh-huh."
I couldn't help snickering. I'd file that little tidbit away until I needed it. Never knew when I'd need to use his weaknesses against him. I shook my head. There I sat, dependent on other people for the simplest things and I was already making plans to get out of Dodge. That just wasn't right. A very, very tiny voice inside me kept saying I owed these people for helping me out. Maybe if I concentrated enough, I could make it go away.
"You didn't answer my other question," I said into the night.
"I know. I'm trying to think of an answer."
"Don't hurt yourself."
"Ha. Ha, ha, ha. You should go on Letterman." The serious tone brought me up short and I peered at him out of the corner of me eye. He just shook his head and grinned at me. "Seriously, I do not know why I care." The smile faded. "If you hadn't been there, it vould be me in that that chair or lying dead on the floor of an airplane garage out in the middle of nowhere."
Couldn't argue with that logic. He shrugged, twirling his blade of grass between his fingers.
"You know," he said suddenly. "Ve have a lot more in common than you think, Pietro."
What? I had to stretch, but I managed to lean out of my seat and tug on his fur. Incidentally, it felt like brushed silk. Wow. "Obviously not this," I said. He carefully but firmly removed my hand from his shoulder and smoothed his fur back into place.
"Nein, not that. But ve both have a sister that doesn't get along with us. Ve both have a parent who hates us." He slapped his tail against my wheelchair. "Ve both do not want to be seen out in public as we are."
I opened my mouth to correct him, but closed it without a sound. He had a good point. I didn't know about him, but Wanda and I had a very contentious relationship. Don't get me wrong. My sister and I love one another a great deal.
We just don't like each other very much.
I guess I could see parallels between Magneto and Mystique, though I thought I had the bitter end of the stick with that deal. At least his mother doesn't go around hatching plans for world domination and trying to kill him with oversized medical supplies. This wasn't the first time Dad had tried to off me. Just his most successful.
As for the wheelchair, he was also right. I wouldn't get nearly the same amount of stares that he would if he went outside without his little hologram thingy. Still, I've seen how disabled people tend to be treated in the real world and I didn't look forward to dealing with that. It's not like my arms didn't work or that my brain was affected. I just couldn't walk for a while. It didn't mean that people had to pretend I was a small child or something, yet I knew that would happen.
I sighed. "What's your point, then? You want to start a club for freaks and cripples? Some sort of support group for the screwed-up people of the world?" I laughed bitterly. "You are such a bleeding heart sometimes, it makes me sick."
"No, I mean..." Oh no. He wasn't going to interrupt me now. I was just getting warmed up.
Something in his face made me snap. I shook my head. "Face it, Kurt. One of these days - not tomorrow, not next month, but someday - I'm going to get up out of this damn chair and walk away from Xavier's little dream of peace, love, harmony and whatever else he's selling and you'll still be a blue-haired freak of nature who can't even go out the front door of that mansion over there without the mailman fainting dead away from shock." I took a deep breath and dove ahead, ignoring the hurt look on his face. "I- don't-need-your-pity-or-your-concern-thank-you-very-much. So-why- don't-you- tell-me-what-you're-really-after-and-then-go-away?" I'd let my control slip toward the end and the words had come out in a bit of a rush, but I was positive that he'd probably understood.
When Kurt didn't answer I twisted around and glared at him. He was just sitting there with his legs crossed, looking down at his lap. His tail twitched violently behind him, cutting a deadly swath through the dandelions that covered the back lawn. Maybe I'd laid it on a little too thick, because I could see the tension in him. He looked like a coiled spring. Well, ok, a fuzzy, blue, coiled spring. And would you believe his fur was standing on edge like someone had rubbed him the wrong way?
Ha, ha. Get it? Rubbed him the...never mind.
We sat like that for a couple minutes at least. I just glared at the top of his head, which was all I could see, and he did the same to the ground on which he was sitting. Took me the entire time to realize he was muttering something under his breath.
"Oh, for crying out loud. At least talk so I can hear you," I barked. Oops. My mouth seemed to have sprinted ahead of the rest of me. Yet again. He stood, rather gracefully for someone quite obviously cranky, and leaned over me.
I decided then and there to make an effort to learn German. Oh, it wouldn't help me out now but maybe if he bit my head off like this in the future, I'd at least be able to keep up with him.
"Ich wünschst du nicht den Schmerz glauben! Ich wünschst du würde lächeln häufig! [1]" He paused. "Ich dachte, daß wir Freunde sein könnten. Ich wurde verwechselt. [2]" He shot me a really dirty look. "Du Bumser. [3]"
[Bamf!]
I blinked away the smoke, wrinkling my nose at the faint smell of rotten eggs and looked around. Kurt was nowhere to be seen. Good. Maybe he'd just leave me alone.
Alone. Oh no. I looked around wildly, but the mansion was a couple hundred feet away. I couldn't even hear the party from this distance. Nice going, Pietro.
"SHIT!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. No point in being nice about it. I didn't look forward to spending the night out here. Sure the view was terrific, but the sea breeze was starting to cut into me. Someone had to hear me, even from this distance. Hopefully.
Waking up disoriented was getting to be a habit I could live without. It took several minutes to realize I wasn't in the basement anymore. I was on my side in a huge bed. The sunlight filtering through the gauzy curtains behind me was a big tip-off that I wasn't in that little hole-in- the-wall that passed for a hospital at the Institute. The room looked vaguely familiar. Really big bed, desk, dresser. One of those standalone closet things. I was reminded, believe it or not, of a hotel room.
I struggled into a sitting position and rubbed my eyes. Surprisingly, I didn't ache nearly as much this morning. This made me suspicious, of course. How long was I out this time? I stretched, yawning, and noticed I was wearing that same silly t-shirt with the demon on it. Ah, good. Only one night this time. I looked around for a clock and was surprised to see Summers slumped in a chair by the side of the bed.
"Well, well, well," I muttered. "I rate a babysitter now." If I'd had the use of my legs, I'd have kicked him awake just out of spite. Scott- baiting was a favorite pastime of mine. As it was, I had to settle for tossing a pillow at him. Amazing how he could possibly sleep not only while sitting ramrod-straight, but with those ridiculous shades on.
"Mmph?" He yawned. It was contagious. "Oh. Good morning, Pietro."
I finally found the clock. 10:46 am. "Yeah, barely."
"Ready to face the day?" Jeez, how can anyone be that perky and not explode?
"Depends. How long am I stuck with a chaperone?"
His face sort of froze between a frown and a smile. I could tell his eyes narrowed behind his glasses. Call it a hunch. He gave me one of those looks, as though unsure if I was joking or being a smart-ass. A month ago I'd have put money on the latter, but I seem to have mellowed somewhat. I shot a huge cheesy grin his way and his face finally settled on a smirk.
"All day. Doctor MacTaggart wants one of us to be with you at all times."
"One of who?"
He shrugged and stood. "Anyone, actually. She's not picky." He shook his head. "I don't think she's worried about anything in particular."
Well, that was good. "So what's first on my schedule for today? A light jog around the track in the park? Maybe one of your Danger Room sessions? Oh, I know. Isn't the Boston Marathon coming up?" Whoops. Hey, it's hard not to be a wise-ass around Summers. He needs to loosen up. Give me a little room to work with here. I cut him off before he could speak. "Sorry. This is just going to take a lot of getting used to."
He cocked his head to one side and I really wished I could see what was going on behind those specs of his. Nothing says 'impersonal' like a pair of sunglasses you can't see through.
"You want to talk about it?" I looked down at my hands, suddenly embarrassed.
"No," I mumbled. I concentrated on the pattern of the quilt lying on the bed, hoping he'd get the hint. Instead, I felt the bed move as he sat down. He pulled one leg up and hugged it, rocking slightly back and forth.
"You sure?" Mental head slap. I was chatting with Summers. Of course he wouldn't get the hint. Stating the obvious is a good routine to stick to when dealing with him.
"Look, I've had less than a day to get used to the idea that I'll be stuck in a chair for God only knows how long. I haven't exactly accepted it as fact yet. I just can't wrap my mind around that, that," I waved a hand at the offending wheelchair, "thing. I'm having a hell of a time not cringing every time I look down at myself or imagine myself at Bayside in that chair." I risked a glance up at Summers, wondering if I could ask Professor Xavier for another...what, nurse? Sitter? Companion. Yeah, that'd work.
This one was a dolt.
"I know you haven't had much time to accept your...situation." Well, ok. Maybe he wasn't quite as dumb as he looked. "We want you to know that if you ever need to talk about it - or anything else - to let us know." That got my attention.
"Who's we?"
"Jean, Ororo, the Professor, myself." He started ticking off names on his fingers. "Alex, Kitty, Doug, Sam, Amara, Ray. Mr. Cassidy, Mr. McCoy, and Doctor MacTaggart, of course. Oh, and Rahne wanted me to add that she thinks you're pretty cute."
I jerked my head up.
"What?"
"Just kidding." Wait a minute. Stick-Boy had a sense of humor? "But I know she likes you."
"Oh." I snickered. The little Scottish girl hadn't really shown up on my radar. Yet. "I don't know a couple of those, but I notice you left a few people off that list." I folded my hands behind my head and leaned back against the headboard. "Logan, for instance."
Summers snorted. It sounded odd coming from him. "Logan doesn't let anyone get close to him."
"Yeah, he doesn't strike me as the touchy-feely type," I said with a shrug. "Evan's a jerk, so I didn't expect anything from him. Wanda and I don't get along even on the best of days."
"Yep. You can add Kurt to your 'no-talk' list, too. He's a little upset for some reason." He raised his eyebrows behind those red specs of his. "No idea why."
I cleared my throat and looked away. "Me neither."
There was a long, drawn-out pause.
"And Bobby's still out of action." I looked blank for a moment. Oh, he meant Iceman. I sort of remembered him going down during the fight in Colorado.
"So pretty much everyone is welcoming me into your little club." I didn't make it a question. In fact, it came out pretty tonelessly. It would take a while to get used to being around Summers and his housemates. Particularly since I'd been on the outside looking in for the past year or so.
Summers patted my leg and once again I was creeped out by the fact that I could see the action just fine, but couldn't feel even the slightest twinge. Then he smiled, plastering a huge grin on his face. I must have been a real jerk in a past life or something. Karmic turnaround is a real pain, you know? I couldn't think of any other reason I'd been stuck with Mr. Cheerful.
"Yep. So, let's get you up and about, shall we?" He stood again and started rummaging through the dresser drawer. After a moment of pawing through my clothing, he scratched his head. "Maybe I'm just not seeing it. Don't you own shirts that aren't black?" I like the way I look in black. It brings out the blue highlights in my skin and makes for a nice contrast with my feathery-white hair.
All right, so I'm fashion-conscious. Sue me.
"What is this, 'One-Eye for the Straight Guy'? Just give me some clothes and get out of here."
He tossed a couple items on the bed next to me. "You don't need help?"
I had the distinct feeling I was going to have to explain this to him all day.
"I'm not a vegetable, Summers. I think I can still dress myself," I sneered. Then, just to tweak his lofty do-gooder attitude a bit more, I added: "But if you're really good, I'll let you spoon-feed me and hold my..."
He held up his hands and backed toward the door. "All right, all right, I get it."
"...while I take a leak." He rolled his eyes. Don't ask me how I knew.
"Give me a holler when you're done. How'd you like a tour of the place?"
"Sounds like fun," I said. Maybe they had a video game room in this castle they called home. If I couldn't be outside running, perhaps I could get around to beating Zelda again. All in all, the day wasn't looking too shabby. Except for Summers, but I had the feeling that I'd have a lot of fun with him today. Too bad he wouldn't be able to appreciate it.
I chuckled as he went out the door. Oh yeah. This was going to be fun.
------
To Be Continued.
------
Translations:
[1]: "Maybe I wish you to stop hurting! Maybe I wish you would smile more!"
[2]: "I thought we could be friends. I was wrong."
[3]: "You f----r."
Author's Note:
Greetings.
Read, REVIEW, and enjoy. ;) Pretty please.
Cheers.
Jack
------
I found myself for the second time in as many hours sitting outside watching the stars. Kurt had popped Lance and myself back to the patio and the two of them stayed outside with me for a while. Beat the heck out the party raging inside. The constant hammering of the music just inside the glass doors made me glad I wasn't a telepath.
It was probably somewhere around midnight when Lance said goodnight and left us by the pool. He wanted to stay, he assured me between yawns, but there was a road trip on the schedule for the next day and a bunch of them had to be up early to get going. Oh well. I assumed I wasn't invited on whatever bonding experience Xavier had planned for his students. Just as well. I wasn't sure I'd be up to the task of being that polite on a four- hour bus trip anyway.
That left Kurt out there with me in the late summer evening. We didn't talk much, not more than a couple words at a time. The only sounds were the creaking of his deck chair as he shifted around occasionally and the breeze through the trees. I suppose the ocean was relegated to background noise much like the party going on behind us.
After a while, he stood up. I noticed his tail was twitching like a cat's. Guess this patio furniture hadn't been designed with tails in mind.
"You still want to see that ocean view, ja?"
It took a moment to realize he was talking to me. Shows you just how relaxed I was. I'd have to do something about that. If I let my guard down around here, who knows what would happen. Evan would probably pummel me into street pizza, most likely. For now, though, I just wanted to bask in this comfortable mood I had going.
"Sure," I said, fully expecting to be wrenched across the distance between here and wherever he wanted to go in a heartbeat. Surprise, surprise - he started pushing my wheelchair instead. I wonder if he had as much trouble as I did keeping the impulse to use his powers under control.
We walked along in silence for a few minutes. He did, anyway. I think I squeaked every time the chair hit a rock or dip in the grass. The Doc and Hank seemed to think I was well enough to be up and about, but the truth was I felt like a gigantic bruise. Hopefully it would pass.
We ended up at the very edge of the yard, overlooking the Atlantic Ocean from the top of a cliff that had to be five hundred feet high. Did he have to park me that close to the edge? I mean, I could almost look straight down the side of the cliff. The rocks at the bottom looked rather menacing from this angle. Maybe this was Xavier's way of getting me out of the way. Just take the trash out to the back yard and toss it over the edge, right?
Paranoid? Me? Just a little, I guess.
Kurt settled on the grass a couple feet away and stretched out with a relaxing sigh. My own tension started bleeding away as I took in the scene. The ocean was a glowing cobalt blue just like he'd said earlier and the sound it made when it crashed against the rocks below me was actually sort of soothing. The waves rippled the moonlight, skewing it into strange and interesting angles across the surface. I think I even saw something jump out of the water at one point.
"Nice." For once my mouth couldn't find the words.
"Ja." He rolled over on his side to face me and I could see the moon reflecting off his eyes in the dark. "I come out here vhen I vant to get away from the noise. Peaceful, no?"
"Yeah, tell me about it." He was acting funny, which sort of spoiled the mood. I could feel his eyes on me even after I turned back to the ocean. "If you're going to ask me something, do it."
I caught his frown out of the corner of my eye and almost regretted my tone. Almost. Being nice to Xavier's brats was a little beyond my capability at the moment. I'd been freakin' broken because of this one. Surely the bald guy wouldn't begrudge me a little attitude as a result.
"Well?"
I glanced over at Kurt, who was chewing on a blade of grass. I had to strain to hear him.
"Vhy? Vhy did you do it?"
Oh, good. A question I'd been expecting. Too bad I still didn't have a good reason. "I don't know," I said. Lying might have felt good, but I couldn't come up with a good lie, either. I replayed the scene in my mind, scowling at the water below as though the answer would just appear on the surface.
Father had floated up into the air with the White Queen in that hangar. Once Red had arrived and started breaking his little pig-stickers, it looked like Magneto was going to split. Kurt had been teleporting Logan's bleeding body all over the place to avoid Dad's needles and somehow ended up on top of the little CRJ plane. Dad looked at Logan and gave one of his usual patronizing speeches. Kurt crouched over Logan, putting his body between Dad and Logan. Dad responded by calling a huge, and I mean HUGE, needle into the air and sending it shooting toward them.
I frowned. I couldn't remember my reasoning at that point. I got a good running start and streaked across the hangar, ignoring the fact that the venom was giving me a migraine and making me twinge. I couple nanoseconds later, I was on the roof of the plane, diving between Dad and Kurt.
For the briefest of moments, I saw Dad's eyes and his expression was an odd one. It almost looked as though he was going to turn the needle aside at the last moment but then his face went blank and his eyes narrowed. And that's when the hypodermic skewered me.
I found my hands twitching over the bandage under the gaudy shirt I was wearing and forced them to be still. Mustn't look weak in front of the X-Geeks.
"You don't know?" Kurt asked.
I tried meeting his eyes, but found myself looking away quickly.
"No, I don't." I looked out at the ocean, wishing he would stop looking at me like that. His expression was unnerving. "Why do you care, anyway? Why didn't you just pop yourself out of there?" There. I'd make him start answering the awkward questions. No reason I should be the only uncomfortable one around here.
"I couldn't 'port anymore. No more," he paused, thinking, "juice."
Interesting way of putting it. "You ran out of gas?"
"Uh-huh."
I couldn't help snickering. I'd file that little tidbit away until I needed it. Never knew when I'd need to use his weaknesses against him. I shook my head. There I sat, dependent on other people for the simplest things and I was already making plans to get out of Dodge. That just wasn't right. A very, very tiny voice inside me kept saying I owed these people for helping me out. Maybe if I concentrated enough, I could make it go away.
"You didn't answer my other question," I said into the night.
"I know. I'm trying to think of an answer."
"Don't hurt yourself."
"Ha. Ha, ha, ha. You should go on Letterman." The serious tone brought me up short and I peered at him out of the corner of me eye. He just shook his head and grinned at me. "Seriously, I do not know why I care." The smile faded. "If you hadn't been there, it vould be me in that that chair or lying dead on the floor of an airplane garage out in the middle of nowhere."
Couldn't argue with that logic. He shrugged, twirling his blade of grass between his fingers.
"You know," he said suddenly. "Ve have a lot more in common than you think, Pietro."
What? I had to stretch, but I managed to lean out of my seat and tug on his fur. Incidentally, it felt like brushed silk. Wow. "Obviously not this," I said. He carefully but firmly removed my hand from his shoulder and smoothed his fur back into place.
"Nein, not that. But ve both have a sister that doesn't get along with us. Ve both have a parent who hates us." He slapped his tail against my wheelchair. "Ve both do not want to be seen out in public as we are."
I opened my mouth to correct him, but closed it without a sound. He had a good point. I didn't know about him, but Wanda and I had a very contentious relationship. Don't get me wrong. My sister and I love one another a great deal.
We just don't like each other very much.
I guess I could see parallels between Magneto and Mystique, though I thought I had the bitter end of the stick with that deal. At least his mother doesn't go around hatching plans for world domination and trying to kill him with oversized medical supplies. This wasn't the first time Dad had tried to off me. Just his most successful.
As for the wheelchair, he was also right. I wouldn't get nearly the same amount of stares that he would if he went outside without his little hologram thingy. Still, I've seen how disabled people tend to be treated in the real world and I didn't look forward to dealing with that. It's not like my arms didn't work or that my brain was affected. I just couldn't walk for a while. It didn't mean that people had to pretend I was a small child or something, yet I knew that would happen.
I sighed. "What's your point, then? You want to start a club for freaks and cripples? Some sort of support group for the screwed-up people of the world?" I laughed bitterly. "You are such a bleeding heart sometimes, it makes me sick."
"No, I mean..." Oh no. He wasn't going to interrupt me now. I was just getting warmed up.
Something in his face made me snap. I shook my head. "Face it, Kurt. One of these days - not tomorrow, not next month, but someday - I'm going to get up out of this damn chair and walk away from Xavier's little dream of peace, love, harmony and whatever else he's selling and you'll still be a blue-haired freak of nature who can't even go out the front door of that mansion over there without the mailman fainting dead away from shock." I took a deep breath and dove ahead, ignoring the hurt look on his face. "I- don't-need-your-pity-or-your-concern-thank-you-very-much. So-why- don't-you- tell-me-what-you're-really-after-and-then-go-away?" I'd let my control slip toward the end and the words had come out in a bit of a rush, but I was positive that he'd probably understood.
When Kurt didn't answer I twisted around and glared at him. He was just sitting there with his legs crossed, looking down at his lap. His tail twitched violently behind him, cutting a deadly swath through the dandelions that covered the back lawn. Maybe I'd laid it on a little too thick, because I could see the tension in him. He looked like a coiled spring. Well, ok, a fuzzy, blue, coiled spring. And would you believe his fur was standing on edge like someone had rubbed him the wrong way?
Ha, ha. Get it? Rubbed him the...never mind.
We sat like that for a couple minutes at least. I just glared at the top of his head, which was all I could see, and he did the same to the ground on which he was sitting. Took me the entire time to realize he was muttering something under his breath.
"Oh, for crying out loud. At least talk so I can hear you," I barked. Oops. My mouth seemed to have sprinted ahead of the rest of me. Yet again. He stood, rather gracefully for someone quite obviously cranky, and leaned over me.
I decided then and there to make an effort to learn German. Oh, it wouldn't help me out now but maybe if he bit my head off like this in the future, I'd at least be able to keep up with him.
"Ich wünschst du nicht den Schmerz glauben! Ich wünschst du würde lächeln häufig! [1]" He paused. "Ich dachte, daß wir Freunde sein könnten. Ich wurde verwechselt. [2]" He shot me a really dirty look. "Du Bumser. [3]"
[Bamf!]
I blinked away the smoke, wrinkling my nose at the faint smell of rotten eggs and looked around. Kurt was nowhere to be seen. Good. Maybe he'd just leave me alone.
Alone. Oh no. I looked around wildly, but the mansion was a couple hundred feet away. I couldn't even hear the party from this distance. Nice going, Pietro.
"SHIT!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. No point in being nice about it. I didn't look forward to spending the night out here. Sure the view was terrific, but the sea breeze was starting to cut into me. Someone had to hear me, even from this distance. Hopefully.
Waking up disoriented was getting to be a habit I could live without. It took several minutes to realize I wasn't in the basement anymore. I was on my side in a huge bed. The sunlight filtering through the gauzy curtains behind me was a big tip-off that I wasn't in that little hole-in- the-wall that passed for a hospital at the Institute. The room looked vaguely familiar. Really big bed, desk, dresser. One of those standalone closet things. I was reminded, believe it or not, of a hotel room.
I struggled into a sitting position and rubbed my eyes. Surprisingly, I didn't ache nearly as much this morning. This made me suspicious, of course. How long was I out this time? I stretched, yawning, and noticed I was wearing that same silly t-shirt with the demon on it. Ah, good. Only one night this time. I looked around for a clock and was surprised to see Summers slumped in a chair by the side of the bed.
"Well, well, well," I muttered. "I rate a babysitter now." If I'd had the use of my legs, I'd have kicked him awake just out of spite. Scott- baiting was a favorite pastime of mine. As it was, I had to settle for tossing a pillow at him. Amazing how he could possibly sleep not only while sitting ramrod-straight, but with those ridiculous shades on.
"Mmph?" He yawned. It was contagious. "Oh. Good morning, Pietro."
I finally found the clock. 10:46 am. "Yeah, barely."
"Ready to face the day?" Jeez, how can anyone be that perky and not explode?
"Depends. How long am I stuck with a chaperone?"
His face sort of froze between a frown and a smile. I could tell his eyes narrowed behind his glasses. Call it a hunch. He gave me one of those looks, as though unsure if I was joking or being a smart-ass. A month ago I'd have put money on the latter, but I seem to have mellowed somewhat. I shot a huge cheesy grin his way and his face finally settled on a smirk.
"All day. Doctor MacTaggart wants one of us to be with you at all times."
"One of who?"
He shrugged and stood. "Anyone, actually. She's not picky." He shook his head. "I don't think she's worried about anything in particular."
Well, that was good. "So what's first on my schedule for today? A light jog around the track in the park? Maybe one of your Danger Room sessions? Oh, I know. Isn't the Boston Marathon coming up?" Whoops. Hey, it's hard not to be a wise-ass around Summers. He needs to loosen up. Give me a little room to work with here. I cut him off before he could speak. "Sorry. This is just going to take a lot of getting used to."
He cocked his head to one side and I really wished I could see what was going on behind those specs of his. Nothing says 'impersonal' like a pair of sunglasses you can't see through.
"You want to talk about it?" I looked down at my hands, suddenly embarrassed.
"No," I mumbled. I concentrated on the pattern of the quilt lying on the bed, hoping he'd get the hint. Instead, I felt the bed move as he sat down. He pulled one leg up and hugged it, rocking slightly back and forth.
"You sure?" Mental head slap. I was chatting with Summers. Of course he wouldn't get the hint. Stating the obvious is a good routine to stick to when dealing with him.
"Look, I've had less than a day to get used to the idea that I'll be stuck in a chair for God only knows how long. I haven't exactly accepted it as fact yet. I just can't wrap my mind around that, that," I waved a hand at the offending wheelchair, "thing. I'm having a hell of a time not cringing every time I look down at myself or imagine myself at Bayside in that chair." I risked a glance up at Summers, wondering if I could ask Professor Xavier for another...what, nurse? Sitter? Companion. Yeah, that'd work.
This one was a dolt.
"I know you haven't had much time to accept your...situation." Well, ok. Maybe he wasn't quite as dumb as he looked. "We want you to know that if you ever need to talk about it - or anything else - to let us know." That got my attention.
"Who's we?"
"Jean, Ororo, the Professor, myself." He started ticking off names on his fingers. "Alex, Kitty, Doug, Sam, Amara, Ray. Mr. Cassidy, Mr. McCoy, and Doctor MacTaggart, of course. Oh, and Rahne wanted me to add that she thinks you're pretty cute."
I jerked my head up.
"What?"
"Just kidding." Wait a minute. Stick-Boy had a sense of humor? "But I know she likes you."
"Oh." I snickered. The little Scottish girl hadn't really shown up on my radar. Yet. "I don't know a couple of those, but I notice you left a few people off that list." I folded my hands behind my head and leaned back against the headboard. "Logan, for instance."
Summers snorted. It sounded odd coming from him. "Logan doesn't let anyone get close to him."
"Yeah, he doesn't strike me as the touchy-feely type," I said with a shrug. "Evan's a jerk, so I didn't expect anything from him. Wanda and I don't get along even on the best of days."
"Yep. You can add Kurt to your 'no-talk' list, too. He's a little upset for some reason." He raised his eyebrows behind those red specs of his. "No idea why."
I cleared my throat and looked away. "Me neither."
There was a long, drawn-out pause.
"And Bobby's still out of action." I looked blank for a moment. Oh, he meant Iceman. I sort of remembered him going down during the fight in Colorado.
"So pretty much everyone is welcoming me into your little club." I didn't make it a question. In fact, it came out pretty tonelessly. It would take a while to get used to being around Summers and his housemates. Particularly since I'd been on the outside looking in for the past year or so.
Summers patted my leg and once again I was creeped out by the fact that I could see the action just fine, but couldn't feel even the slightest twinge. Then he smiled, plastering a huge grin on his face. I must have been a real jerk in a past life or something. Karmic turnaround is a real pain, you know? I couldn't think of any other reason I'd been stuck with Mr. Cheerful.
"Yep. So, let's get you up and about, shall we?" He stood again and started rummaging through the dresser drawer. After a moment of pawing through my clothing, he scratched his head. "Maybe I'm just not seeing it. Don't you own shirts that aren't black?" I like the way I look in black. It brings out the blue highlights in my skin and makes for a nice contrast with my feathery-white hair.
All right, so I'm fashion-conscious. Sue me.
"What is this, 'One-Eye for the Straight Guy'? Just give me some clothes and get out of here."
He tossed a couple items on the bed next to me. "You don't need help?"
I had the distinct feeling I was going to have to explain this to him all day.
"I'm not a vegetable, Summers. I think I can still dress myself," I sneered. Then, just to tweak his lofty do-gooder attitude a bit more, I added: "But if you're really good, I'll let you spoon-feed me and hold my..."
He held up his hands and backed toward the door. "All right, all right, I get it."
"...while I take a leak." He rolled his eyes. Don't ask me how I knew.
"Give me a holler when you're done. How'd you like a tour of the place?"
"Sounds like fun," I said. Maybe they had a video game room in this castle they called home. If I couldn't be outside running, perhaps I could get around to beating Zelda again. All in all, the day wasn't looking too shabby. Except for Summers, but I had the feeling that I'd have a lot of fun with him today. Too bad he wouldn't be able to appreciate it.
I chuckled as he went out the door. Oh yeah. This was going to be fun.
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To Be Continued.
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Translations:
[1]: "Maybe I wish you to stop hurting! Maybe I wish you would smile more!"
[2]: "I thought we could be friends. I was wrong."
[3]: "You f----r."