Author's note:
Ok, so chap. 5 obviously bit. Gomen!!!!! But, please, please, please, please, PLEASE review!!! Anyho, thanks to all who reviewed, especially GaruruBlue and QuatreBunny who have been kind enough to review almost every chapter! You guys are great! I'd also like to thank my pals Erin, Molly, Cathy, Taber and Becks! Thanks for all the support you guys!!! Anyho (I luv that word! Anyho, anyho, anyho…) here is…..
Title: Disappearance
Author: Soli
Rating: PG-13/R for angst
Coupling: Kurt/Kitty, a little bit of Scott/Jean
Summary: When Kurt is kidnapped, the rest of the X-men have to save him….before it's too late
Dedication: To Liz, my Spike-loving other half. I love you to pieces and I don't think anyone has ever made me laugh as much as you have. I love you!
Chapter Six: Changes
Posters of Beatles covered the baby blue walls. CD's scattered around the floor, in or out of their cases. Gymnastics trophies decorated the shelves, some won as late as last year, some as early as six months ago. Photos of family and friends scattered on the messy bureau. One of them had a large yellow blotch on it, like tea or soda had been spilled on its colorful face. Scott looked closer and grinned. Figures. It was a picture of Kitty and that JV quarterback. Of course, Kurt being the wonderfully jealous teen that he was, the drink had conveniently landed only on the quarterback.
For the past few hours Scott Summers had pawing through the contents of Kurt's room, trying to get reacquainted with his best friend through materialistic things. Funny as that sounded, there wasn't one object in the room that didn't scream "KURT!" No, wait, everything except for that weird stain on the carpet. That pretty much screamed "CHINESE TAKEOUT!"
Chinese takeout. Scott remembered the first time he had gotten Chinese takeout with Kurt. Scott had ordered Bird's Nest. Kurt, having never heard of Chinese food before, much less tasted it, spent the rest of dinner time accusing Scott of being an "animal home-wrecker" and that "He should be thoroughly ashamed of himself" because "who knew how long it took for those poor birdies to build that nest." Scott laughed at the memory of Kurt's bright red ears once the German boy had found out exactly what Bird's Nest was made out of. Of course, the group had waited until after dinner to tell him. They were laughing too hard to tell him earlier.
That wasn't the only memory the room held. For example, the slightly tarnished silver trophy stood out among its larger golden companions had been the first trophy Kurt had ever won, and Scott remembered the ecstatic look on his holographic face when it had been awarded to him. The stuffed blue kitten on top of the pillow had been a comforting gift from Kitty when Kurt and Rogue had found out that Mystique was their mother. The many empty bags with the Burger King logo in the trash reminded Scott of Kurt's love for fast food. Scott picked up one of the more familiar pictures from Kurt's bureau. It was a picture of himself, looking like a human shaped sundae.
It had been the king of pranks. Kurt had run up to Scott's run howling about the injustice of life. Scott, believing that someone had discovered Kurt's secret, ran out side and into a large slippery puddle.
Unlike mud or chocolate syrup, caramel is much stickier and has a habit of sticking in all the wrong places. Blinded by the sweet coating, Scott tried repeatedly to get up, only to fall back down again.
"Like I said, the injustice of life." An amused accented voice had called out from the sidelines.
"Kurt! I'm going to rip your fur out!" Scott had hollered, and promptly fell again. Kurt laughed, along with several other people. Scott groaned. Great.
"Ya know, sugah, Ah really think gold jest ain't ya color." Rogue giggled. "What do you think, Kitty?"
"Well, I'd have to go with brown."
"Or red," Evan chirped up.
"Blue?" Kurt suggested.
"Green."
"No, yellow!"
Suddenly, Scott knew what would be coming next.
"You guys wouldn't. You couldn't."
The hail of M&M's hit almost before he had finished his sentence.
Scott smiled. That had been one hell of a day. For the first time, the entire group had been able to forget that they were mutants, that they were humanities worst enemy and be able to do the one thing each of them longed to do-be regular kids. Before, Scott would have given anything to be able to feel that way again. Now, he'd give it up and more if only to have his best friend back.
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"What do you want?" Lance growled, more than a little irritated. The taller figure in the flashlight's beam grinned.
" Hey, hey, take it easy. I just wanted to show my girl that blue freaky thingy." Dan replied, lowering his arms. The blonde girl wearing the maroon varsity football jacket (the usual cheerleader/jock cliché, Lance noted in disgust.) sniffed.
"Anyway, it's so totally none of your business." She said in one of those holier-than-thou kinds of voices. Lance snorted.
"I think it is, miss pretty pretty princess." He jeered. Dan took a step towards him.
"Back off, punk. No one speaks to my girl like that."
"No one speaks to your girl at all."
"Why you little-"
"Leave now or I call the cops." Lance told them coolly. "Princess" smirked.
"No you won't. We're not the only ones who aren't supposed be here."
"Wrong." Lance reached in his back pocket and pulled out a plain plastic card. "I work here. Night Watchman. I kick the bad guys off my turf." Lance smirked at the nervous looks creeping up the faces of the other teens. "And right now, you're on my turf."
Dan laughed nervously. "Hey, hey, no need for threats, bro, we're going. Right, Britney?"
Britney. What a typical blond ho name. Lance thought as Britney opened her mouth to whine. Dan grabbed her arm.
"Right. See ya, bro." Dan called over his shoulder, dragging his girlfriend with him. Lance felt his muscles relax a little. It was a good thing Mystique had gotten these fake work cards. Even though it probably wouldn't have hurt to let them in, Lance decided it was good that he hadn't taken the chance. Glancing at his watch again, he groaned inwardly. Three-thirty AM. Now, where could he get a good cup of Joe at this hour?
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He wasn't scared. He wasn't scared at all.
Aw, hell, who am I kiddin'? Jenkins thought to himself. He was scared out of his mind.
It had been different when he thought that the kid was just a freak, like any of the other freaks in his show. But something was different with this one. Sure he was a mutant, and an obvious one at that, but he was something else too. He was human.
Jenkins had arrived that morning to see the kid-what did he call himself? Kurt?- to see Kurt laying on his side, staring into nothingness. Jenkins had felt a pang of worry at first, but pushed the feeling away when he saw Kurt blink. There was a show to run, people to let in, money to make. He had no time to think about what was wrong with his pitiful excuse of an ape. But then when his customers started complaining, Jenkins decided to check out the situation himself.
Kurt hadn't moved from his position. Jenkins watched as a group of kids pelted the mutants with fairly large stones. Kurt still didn't move.
"Worthless freak." Someone from the crowd yelled. Murmurs of agreement filled the hot room. Jenkins thought he saw a flicker of emotion in those yellow eyes.
No, now your imaging things. He scoffed at himself. Still, the feeling of uneasiness wouldn't go away. After all, if this kid cold talk, could walk, had a name and had a family, didn't that classify him as human?
If he died, wouldn't that classify as murder?
"Ok, everybody out!" he started yelling. "Move it, everyone out." Complaints started coming from all sides. "Don't worry, you'll all get a fifty percent refund." He amended. The complaints thinned out but were still there.
When the last person left, Jenkins turned to the furred boy in the cage.
"Now, you listen hear." He said in a low voice that he hoped sounded threatening. "Consider yourself lucky. I don't do that for any of my other freaks." Jenkins watched the boy's eyes close at the word "freak" but he continued.
"I'll give you the rest off the day off, but that's it. You better be back on you're feet tomorrow. This place is for attractions, and if you ain't gonna be one…" he let his voice trail off, implying something that, deep down, he knew he was too scared to do. Sure, freaks shows weren't exactly the most legal thing nowadays, and he was sure kidnapping (or "borrowing" Jenkins amended) the kid wasn't all that legal either. But still…murder?
"You better be on your feet." Jenkins repeated, with a little bit of uneasiness in his voice.
He turned away, knowing that a large crowd of angry customers would be outside waiting for him, demanding their money. Jenkins sighed as he imagined all those beautiful money signs flying away.
Behind him, Kurt closed his eyes.
Author's note: Like always. Review!
