Disclaimer: Me no own X-Men.

A/N: Yes, I know it's short, but I wanted to get this out before I abandoned the internet entirely for a week. Y'see, I have these things called finals. And I really, really need to study for them. So, unfortunately, I will have no time whatsoever to even go on the computer. Not even to write the next chapter. So this chapter explains a lot -- but it's NOT the end! I have at least one more chapter to write for this ending, if not more, and then there's the other one. So bear with me, please, and wish me luck on finals.

Aside to Internutter: Don't you DARE!! I already don't like what you've done to Jimaine in Reale Liebe (I can't spell English, you expect me to spell in German?), and as I said before, wait your turn for the second ending. Well, I suppose you're allowed to dare, but don't do it just because of how I wrote mine. Please.

Dedication: to Silverangel, who has redeemed herself with her last review, to Nightshade Darkholme (mostly in an attempt to get her to read this. Help me out here - go read her stuff and mention me in a review! Her crawlerfics are really good, but 'Shade's been known to leave stuff for months), and I guess, last of all to everyone who has reviewed my chapters! Talk about an ego boost!

Thanksmuch, and here we go!

Chapter XV

The form of a teenage girl lay motionless on a bed in the hospital wing, incredibly long blond hair ringing a distinctly Romani face, complete with dark, almost olive skin. Although you couldn't tell at the moment, the eyes hidden under closed lids were also distinctly Romani, a warm brown so dark they neared black. The girl herself was as enigmatic as her recent masquerade.

"So -- what's her name?"

"Jimaine. Jimaine Szardos. What I can't figure out is what she's doing on this side of the Atlantic!" Kurt shook his head. "I grew up with her. She's Romani --"

"What?" Rogue asked. The two had pulled third watch that night, since they didn't know when -- or whether -- she was going to wake up. If she started falling, someone had to be there to wake Beast up and get him downstairs.

Kurt sighed, then sat down on the bed next to the unconscious girl. "She's a gypsy. Her mother was the Seer for the circus I worked in, and still was when I left. Jimaine was still training under her mother, and -- verdammt, what is she doing here?!"

"Whoa, Kurt calm down. Now, if the girl's not a mutant, what was that wind tunnel thing she was making? And how'd she do it?"

"She's a sorceress. Well, a novice sorceress, under her mother's training. I had no idea she could do anything so powerful."

Rogue stared a minute to see if Kurt was kidding. When it was obvious he wasn't she shook her head. "Whoa. Kurt. Magic? Yah're not tellin' me that she called that wind with magic."

Kurt smiled wryly at his foster-sister. "You're forgetting my upbringing. I did not grow up in young America. I grew up in Germany, among the Romani. We were taught a little differently."

Rogue just shook her head. "Ah guess. But still -- magic? It's a little far-fetched."

Kurt glared. Rogue shrugged. "Fine. Then where's Amanda?"

The elfin mutant leaped, flipped, landed on the ceiling, and began pacing. "I don't know. Jimaine was impersonating Amanda, she got kidnapped by FOH instead of the real Amanda, the question is, How long has she been impersonating Amanda? Why? And where's the real Amanda?"

"That's more than one question, Kurt," Rogue pointed out, sitting lightly on the bed he had vacated. Kurt growled, annoyed, in her direction, showing upside down fangs. "Alright! Yikes, Kurt. You're a little touchy tonight."

"It's five in the morning, I have no idea where Amanda is, I suddenly discover a girl I grew up with has been masquerading as my girlfriend, and now she's lying unconscious on the bed, probably from power-drain. Today has not been a good day."

Rogue just nodded slowly, and Kurt returned to pacing.

*

"Professa?" Rogue put a gloved finger to her lips, gesturing to the sleeping Nightcrawler with her other hand. He'd finally curled up on one of the other hospital beds to wait -- and had fallen asleep. "He fell asleep 'bout an hour ago. Didn't want to wake him up."

"That's alright, Rogue. I did a quick mindscan when I woke up, and it seems Jimaine is coming around herself."

As if the Professor's comment was a cue, Rogue heard a soft rustle behind her. When she turned around Jimaine was sitting up in bed, pressed against the headboard and frozen. The only things that moved were her eyes, darting around the room. "{Where am I?}" she demanded in German. When the only conscious occupants of the room just looked confused she rolled her eyes, which shone blue for a moment before returning to dark brown. "Where am I? This doesn't look much like any American hospital I've seen!"

"You're in the bowels of the Institute, Miss Szardos. And, if what Kurt says is true, on the wrong side of an entire ocean. How did you manage that?"

Jimaine's mind raced. Then she opted for stalling. "I took a plane. Although a long cruise would have been nice."

"And how did you get on that plane?" a soft voice asked. "Why did you leave Germany, and then impersonate Amanda? Mein swester, I am glad to see you. I'm just -- not sure why you're here. As I last heard it, Margali had you neatly secure as an apprentice."

The girl stared at Kurt a few moments. "Kurt -- maybe I was wrong in coming here. Maybe I should never have interfered with that status quo. And maybe I owe you an apology that you shouldn't accept."

*And maybe there was never an 'Amanda' in the first place?*

Jimaine cringed, even though she knew she was the only one who'd heard what Xavier had said.

"I just want to know what's going on," Kurt stated firmly. Rogue walked over and sat down next to him on the other bed, staring daggers at Jimaine. She already didn't like where the Romani's story was going, and the girl had hardly started.

Jimaine took a deep breath, and began.

*

"First of all, although your parents told the troupe you were going to America, to a school where mutants were welcome, they did not tell us how to contact you, and refused when asked. I think they wanted you to start over, in a new country, without the gypsy trash circus prejudice to go along with your unorthodox appearance. Everyone protested, but we couldn't really do anything about it. Mother said you were fine, that you were in no danger. So the troupe settled down, but things were a lot different without you, Kurt. No exuberant sense of humor, no laughing yellow eyes, no tail to grab that one extra rope, and even the brimstone smell was fading. To tell the truth, you were an integral part that we no longer realized we had.

Anyway. I -- I really missed you. I was mad that I couldn't even talk to you, and couldn't adjust to not seeing a flash of smoke and blue. So I used a little illicit scrying magic to find you. When I did, I got the troupe together, told them I was planning to go to America to find you, and asked them for help. Especially to keep things from reaching Mothers ears."

"They agreed, obviously, or you wouldn't be here," Rogue broke in. Jimaine nodded.

"The thing was, I couldn't just come over here and find you. Mother would have discovered me in a cold second, shimmered over here, and dragged me back. So I spent the next week or so devising a shield spell that would keep me, Jimaine, hidden from Mothers Sight. I also figured that if anyone, including you, discovered I wasn't supposed to be here, they'd send me back. The spell required an illusion, anyway, as a last defense so that if Mother did get past everything else, she'd see someone else. I used the illusion as a tie to hold everything else in, an anchor for the other spells."

Kurts eyes were wide in disbelief as he put all the clues together.

Jimaine refused to look at him. Head bowed, staring at her lap, she slowly twisted a lock of her long blond hair around one finger. Her confession was almost painful.

"There is no Amanda Sefton."