Disclaimer: again. I know you're not going to read this little disclaimer. Why should you? I've already written 2. But anyways...I have to put em here. So...I don't own any of the Marvel characters. Mystique or Kurt. Raven or Nightcrawler. However you want to say it. Enjoy the 3rd chapter!
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The Beginning
Kurt had waited his entire life to hear the story of how he came to be. Now that the moment had arrived, he wasn't sure if he really wanted to know. He had spent so long, so much time out of his life, thinking about what could have happened. Now he would hear the real story, from a complete stranger. Someone who had no idea who, or what, he really was. This thought made him uneasy. So many people in the world, so many people he didn't even know, knew more about him than he knew himself.
Mystique could tell the impatience and uneasiness he son was feeling. She didn't even glance at him. Just the sound of his breathing could tell her every thought in his mind. She was feeling the same things. The uneasiness. He son would finally know what had happened, something she had wished no one would know. But here they were, about to hear the story from the old woman whom she had met so many years before.
The old lady took a sip from her cup and looked up at the pair. Her voice was strained and her mind cloudy but she could remember the events in questions quite vividly.
"Momma," Her son said peeking through the curtains, "I'm going to close the shop, would you like me to stay with you and our...guests?" He looked at both Mystique and Kurt with an uncertain face.
"No dear, we will be fine. Tell your father I will not be home for some time."
Her son, dark haired and tall, walked in and gave his mother a kiss on the cheek. Before he walked through the curtains, he gave the pair of strangers a look of warning and then left.
"Could you please begin?" Asked Kurt as politely and he could, the impatience still shone through.
"Oh yes." Her eyes locked on his. Placing the cup on her saucer she began her story.
"25 years ago, about the time you were born, no?" She looked at the young man sitting in front of her. He nodded in agreement. She continued, "25 years ago I had inherited this small shop from my father. Quite a beautiful shop don't you think?" She asked Mystique, who was growing quite inpatient.
"Yes it's lovely." She said motioning impatiently with her hands for the woman to continue.
"Oh yes, but you see, everything I will tell you has something to do with my story. You don't want me to leave anything out now do you?" Kurt shook his head. His mother just rolled her eyes, making sure the woman did not see her. She began once more.
"On my first day as shop keeper, a lovely young woman, with the most vibrant shade of red hair, much like yours Ms...um...what is your name my child?"
Mystique thought and replied quietly, "Creed, Ms. Creed." She avoided the look of surprise on her son's face.
"Well Ms. Creed. She bared a striking resemblance to you. That is when we first laid eyes on the woman who would destroy the lives of so many in our small town."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The Beginning
Kurt had waited his entire life to hear the story of how he came to be. Now that the moment had arrived, he wasn't sure if he really wanted to know. He had spent so long, so much time out of his life, thinking about what could have happened. Now he would hear the real story, from a complete stranger. Someone who had no idea who, or what, he really was. This thought made him uneasy. So many people in the world, so many people he didn't even know, knew more about him than he knew himself.
Mystique could tell the impatience and uneasiness he son was feeling. She didn't even glance at him. Just the sound of his breathing could tell her every thought in his mind. She was feeling the same things. The uneasiness. He son would finally know what had happened, something she had wished no one would know. But here they were, about to hear the story from the old woman whom she had met so many years before.
The old lady took a sip from her cup and looked up at the pair. Her voice was strained and her mind cloudy but she could remember the events in questions quite vividly.
"Momma," Her son said peeking through the curtains, "I'm going to close the shop, would you like me to stay with you and our...guests?" He looked at both Mystique and Kurt with an uncertain face.
"No dear, we will be fine. Tell your father I will not be home for some time."
Her son, dark haired and tall, walked in and gave his mother a kiss on the cheek. Before he walked through the curtains, he gave the pair of strangers a look of warning and then left.
"Could you please begin?" Asked Kurt as politely and he could, the impatience still shone through.
"Oh yes." Her eyes locked on his. Placing the cup on her saucer she began her story.
"25 years ago, about the time you were born, no?" She looked at the young man sitting in front of her. He nodded in agreement. She continued, "25 years ago I had inherited this small shop from my father. Quite a beautiful shop don't you think?" She asked Mystique, who was growing quite inpatient.
"Yes it's lovely." She said motioning impatiently with her hands for the woman to continue.
"Oh yes, but you see, everything I will tell you has something to do with my story. You don't want me to leave anything out now do you?" Kurt shook his head. His mother just rolled her eyes, making sure the woman did not see her. She began once more.
"On my first day as shop keeper, a lovely young woman, with the most vibrant shade of red hair, much like yours Ms...um...what is your name my child?"
Mystique thought and replied quietly, "Creed, Ms. Creed." She avoided the look of surprise on her son's face.
"Well Ms. Creed. She bared a striking resemblance to you. That is when we first laid eyes on the woman who would destroy the lives of so many in our small town."