I must have lost consciousness, because the next thing I knew, I was bathed in the sort of easy
heat that I've only known the sun to give off. I didn't want to move. My muscles were stiff and
sore and I was still a little queasy.
But otherwise, I felt normal. Well, as normal as anyone could after what happened the previous
night.
I carefully rose to my hands and knees, half shutting my eyes against the relative brightness of the
stage.
Rogue was stirring. It was sort of a half hearted stir, almost a shudder, but she was stirring. I
saw the black-red clotting on her forehead and palm, remembered, and felt a little guilty. I was a
little ashamed of my uselessness. I hadn't really done anything except watch.
I just hoped she was okay. I hoped everyone was okay.
"Aaaaaaaah," she moaned, shouldering herself up against the wall. She opened her eyes and
looked at me, then glanced sideward at the now also stirring Rafael. Then she blanched, all color
draining from her normally too-pale face.
"It's gone."
"What?"
"The . . . the . . ." She shook her head, trying to rephrase whatever she'd been about to say. "Ah
. . . Ah usually have somethin' besides myself . . . in my . . . in my head with me, you
understand? Just . . . just . . . it's gone."
And I thought I understood. I stood up a little groggily, looking for the others. Scott was already
sitting up. He was a little haggard and he kept running his hand through his hair. Continually.
Almost in a sort of beat. His expression was almost vacant. I watched him half curiously, half
apprehensively. He ran his hand through his hair one more time . . . then quickly changed
direction and yanked off his visor.
His eyes were wide open and nothing happened.
Scott leapt to his feet and rushed at the squinting Rafael. He didn't grab him, he just skidded to a
stop inches from the smaller boy, folding his arms. I knew he was trying to keep himself under
control he was very flushed and his legs were trembling unsteadily. "You know, don't you?
You know what's been done to us . . ."
"And me," Rafael shot in, staring back at Scott with his perfectly normal eyes, "And . . . and . . .
it should wear off. Hargeis . . . what she doesn't isn't permenant, any more than Rogue . . . any
more than . . ." He broke off, his gaze shifting to the ground. "It shouldn't be, anyway. I wasn't
part of this. I don't know. I don't know."
"So, what . . . she remove our powers or something?" Rogue hissed, scraping the scabs off her
"wounds" only to reveal pale, unmarred skin beneath.
"Not . . . exactly. It's complicated. I . . . I'd have to write it down. I can't explain it otherwise."
He seemed on the verge of tears. Well, so was everyone.
Evan and Jean came crawling from opposite ends of the stage, their expressions rather
despondant, to say the least. I carefully probed at my own awareness of my power . . . and it was
still there. But I wasn't going to say anything just yet.
Oh wait . . .
"Kurt. Where is he?"
It didn't take long to find him. He hadn't moved. He seemed to be having a little trouble in that
area. He was half sprawled in a sitting position, still trying to figure out what the rest of us had
mastered back in those merry years of infancy.
"Ach, deed you haf to come over here? I'm not ready." Kurt actually blushed, tugging nervously
at a strand of red (red??) hair. His uniform fit very badly, especially around his trunk, and he was
possibly skinnier than before.
In short, Kurt Wagner was no longer much of a fuzzy elf.
heat that I've only known the sun to give off. I didn't want to move. My muscles were stiff and
sore and I was still a little queasy.
But otherwise, I felt normal. Well, as normal as anyone could after what happened the previous
night.
I carefully rose to my hands and knees, half shutting my eyes against the relative brightness of the
stage.
Rogue was stirring. It was sort of a half hearted stir, almost a shudder, but she was stirring. I
saw the black-red clotting on her forehead and palm, remembered, and felt a little guilty. I was a
little ashamed of my uselessness. I hadn't really done anything except watch.
I just hoped she was okay. I hoped everyone was okay.
"Aaaaaaaah," she moaned, shouldering herself up against the wall. She opened her eyes and
looked at me, then glanced sideward at the now also stirring Rafael. Then she blanched, all color
draining from her normally too-pale face.
"It's gone."
"What?"
"The . . . the . . ." She shook her head, trying to rephrase whatever she'd been about to say. "Ah
. . . Ah usually have somethin' besides myself . . . in my . . . in my head with me, you
understand? Just . . . just . . . it's gone."
And I thought I understood. I stood up a little groggily, looking for the others. Scott was already
sitting up. He was a little haggard and he kept running his hand through his hair. Continually.
Almost in a sort of beat. His expression was almost vacant. I watched him half curiously, half
apprehensively. He ran his hand through his hair one more time . . . then quickly changed
direction and yanked off his visor.
His eyes were wide open and nothing happened.
Scott leapt to his feet and rushed at the squinting Rafael. He didn't grab him, he just skidded to a
stop inches from the smaller boy, folding his arms. I knew he was trying to keep himself under
control he was very flushed and his legs were trembling unsteadily. "You know, don't you?
You know what's been done to us . . ."
"And me," Rafael shot in, staring back at Scott with his perfectly normal eyes, "And . . . and . . .
it should wear off. Hargeis . . . what she doesn't isn't permenant, any more than Rogue . . . any
more than . . ." He broke off, his gaze shifting to the ground. "It shouldn't be, anyway. I wasn't
part of this. I don't know. I don't know."
"So, what . . . she remove our powers or something?" Rogue hissed, scraping the scabs off her
"wounds" only to reveal pale, unmarred skin beneath.
"Not . . . exactly. It's complicated. I . . . I'd have to write it down. I can't explain it otherwise."
He seemed on the verge of tears. Well, so was everyone.
Evan and Jean came crawling from opposite ends of the stage, their expressions rather
despondant, to say the least. I carefully probed at my own awareness of my power . . . and it was
still there. But I wasn't going to say anything just yet.
Oh wait . . .
"Kurt. Where is he?"
It didn't take long to find him. He hadn't moved. He seemed to be having a little trouble in that
area. He was half sprawled in a sitting position, still trying to figure out what the rest of us had
mastered back in those merry years of infancy.
"Ach, deed you haf to come over here? I'm not ready." Kurt actually blushed, tugging nervously
at a strand of red (red??) hair. His uniform fit very badly, especially around his trunk, and he was
possibly skinnier than before.
In short, Kurt Wagner was no longer much of a fuzzy elf.