Family Ties:
Chapter 2
A/N: Just wanted to tell you that my life is now in danger due to this fic.
Why? How?
MY MOTHER.
See, since I haven't watched X-M.E. in such a loooooooong time, I printed a
lot of stuff off the Internet about the characters, episodes, and stuff.
Only, Mummy ain't too cheerful about it...
*****
Where am I? wondered Rose. Her eyes fluttered open to stare at a metal ceiling. A lamp hanging down to her shone harsh light, making her scarlet pupils shrink.
"Nice of you to join us."
Immediately on high alert, Rose was instantly on her feet and into a battle stance. There were four people in the room with her; a man in a wheelchair, one woman, a second rough-looking man, and...
Oh, it couldn't be!
But there he was, her sibling. Her brother. Kurt. He's grown! she thought happily, barely able to contain the happiness she felt now. It was mind- blowing; only sixteen years ago, she'd been able to hold him in her hands! But now...
"Rose?" asked the man in the wheelchair.
Jerking out of her blissful stupor, she looked at the man. "What? Who are you?"
The disabled man put a hand to his chest. "I am Charles Xavier."
"Yes...I believe I 'ave heard of you."
Xavier smiled. "I most certainly hope so." Sweeping to Logan and Storm, he said, "He is Logan, and she is Ororo. But you may call them Wolverine and Storm."
They exchanged greetings, introductions, and polite compliments. Kurt, in the midst of this, stayed quiet, trying to sort out his feelings. Should he be happy that a relative had found him? Or was she just like his...he shuddered...mother? Did she like him at all? Would he like her?
Looking at Rose, he instantly knew the answer to the last question. He could see from the way she moved, the way she talked...everything about her made him feel very loving and a tad bit protective to her. When she finally turned to him, Kurt straightened and tried to look less nervous than he really was. Rose saw right through this, and chuckled. Kurt felt his face flush.
"Rose," said Xavier, "would you like to explain where you have been all these years?"
She turned to him, her expression stern. "Yes...with pleasure."
*****
"And so you 'ave been in Germany all these years?" Kurt asked. His voice was filled curiosity, wonder, and - just a little - sadness.
Rose smiled from the couch. They were now in the living room, still with most of the pupils of the school trying to hear and see what was happening. "Yes, but not just Germany." She held up her hands, ticking off all four of her digits as she spoke. "Sweden, France, Yugoslavia, England..." She looked up and smiled gently, barely showing her formidable fangs. "As you can see, I am quite the world traveler, but my destiny vas always America."
"Vhy?"
Slumping back into the couch, Rose closed her eyes. "As you all know, I used to vork for in the circus. Once, you and your adopted parents came to see my show. Of course, none of you remembered me, and I didn't get the chance to see you until later; when you left, your tail vas sticking out of your cloak. I had a suspicion, so I followed you home, and sure enough, it vas you."
She looked down, gazing down at her hands. "But I never got the courage to confront you, afraid of rejection. When I finally met your parents again, they vere rather...alarmed at the sight of me..."
Xavier suddenly caught the image of a woman trying to beat on Rose with a frying pan.
"...but vhen they realized who I was, they talked rather easily about you, Kurt. They also told me you had gone to America, to an Institution for mutants." She folded her long fingers together, giving the effect of someone very tired and old and wise. "So I vorked harder, barely spending any money even on food, until I had the currency to come here." She opened her eyes. "And here I am."
"Wow," Kurt said. He was still in shock over that one little fact: He had a sister! A SISTER! Someone to share secrets with, someone to give him advice, someone to comfort and be comforted by. Looking over at the professor, he could see that the old man understood, and smiled. "That's amazing, Rose."
"Thank you."
"I still cannot believe..." Kurt paused, trying his best to put his emotions and thoughts into words, "...that you came all this vay, just for me."
Rose smiled softly. "Not 'just' for you, Kurt. I came for my family." She and Kurt just looked at each other for a moment, taking in the peaceful silence.
Xavier cleared his throat quietly, bringing them out of their trance. "Rose, I was wondering...do you have a job here in the city?"
Rose shook her head. "No, I do not. And I spent nearly all of my money on the trip 'ere."
"Hm..." Xavier put the tips of his fingers together, his eyes dark and thoughtful. "Do you specialize in anything?"
"Such as?"
"Well, cooking, the arts, music -"
"Die Kunt," Rose blurted. Seeing that only Kurt had understood her, she added, "Art, such as music and photography. I can also cook rather vell."
Xavier grinned brightly. "We have never had the students study cooking, or very much music. How would you like to be a teacher here, and tutor our young students?" Both his and Rose's eyes traveled to the windows. Young faces instantly disappeared.
Rose looked back to Kurt and Xavier, her stormy and flaming eyes pensive. After a, at least to Kurt, full minute of torture, she finally smiled, this time baring every single fang in her skull. It would have been incredibly frightening if she was angry. "I vould love to."
*****
"Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaawn!" announced Evan as he, Scott, and Jean walked down the hall and to the kitchen. "Man! I am SO hungry!"
"Yeah!"agreed Jean. "I could eat a horse!"
All three laughed but were instantly silenced when they came into the kitchen.
There stood Rose in a pair of jeans and a light blue shirt that Storm had given her. She was chopping up a carrot with swiftness and expertise. She gently slid the carrot slices into a pot on the stove that was emitting some incredibly wonderful and soothing smells. Other students and Logan were at the table, eating their hearts out on their favorite breakfasts and forgetting all manners in their feast.
None of them had been able to see her last night (they had lost their spots by the windows) , so they were at first shocked by her looks. But they were quickly over it, having lived with Kurt and Hank McCoy for so long.
One ear swerved to them the instant that Evan's squeaky shoes touched the floor. It was soon followed by the rest of Rose's head. "Good morning. Vhat vould you three like?"
"Oh, you gotta get some of her chow!" cried Jamie Madrox, otherwise known as Multiple, waving a fork with a buttered piece of waffle on the end. "She's a great cook! Try some!"
The others murmured their agreement through full mouths. Even Logan said, as he chewed his way into a large pancake, "I'll admit it..." He swallowed. "I've never had food this good."
"Er..." Scott looked over at Jean and Evan, then back at Rose. "I'd like some of that soup. Please. It smells great."
"Thank you." Her tail snapped to a counter in the blink of an eye, opening the door and flinging out a bowl. Before Scott could catch it, Rose had expertly unfolded one wing and caught it. Taking it in both of her hands, she used her tail to wrap around the ladle and poured some of the stew into the bowl, not spilling a drop. "Here you go," she said, handing him the bowl. As Scott took it, her hand brushed his. He was surprised at how amazingly soft her skin and fur was. It brought up a memory of a long-ago visit to the zoo and the rare chance to pet a baby white tiger.
"And you two?" Rose asked Evan and Jean.
"How about some pancakes? With cranberry jam?" asked Jean politely.
"I'll have some soup, too," Evan said, already taking a seat.
"Coming up." Rose filled up another bowl and handed it to Evan and was making two pancakes at once a split second later, flipping them so high that everyone was sure that they were going to hit the roof. Whipping her tail and snatching a jar of jam, Rose skillfully poured a bit on and tossed the plate to Jean. "Bon apatite, as your people say."
"Actually, that's what the French say."
Scott took a sip of the soup, thinking up a polite excuse...
And was blown away at the taste. "Wow! This is some soup!" He eagerly scooped it up, munching on the carrots and lingering in swallowing the spoonful, savoring the warm and slightly spice taste. It made him think of home.
Rose smiled politely. "Thank you, Scott." She turned back to her work, busily stirring and chopping and flipping.
Xavier and Hank walked (or wheeled) into the room, gazing around at all the satisfied faces. "I see that you are perfectly at home in the kitchen, Rose," commented Xavier, amused.
Hank sniffed the air delicately. "I say, what is that lavish smell?"
Rose was quick to offer him and Xavier a bowl of soup each. "Give me your opinion, Professor." Turning to Hank, she said, "I do not believe we 'ave met. You are?"
Hank offered her one large hand for her slender one. "Hank McCoy, one of the teachers here. I'm also known as Beast."
"I see." She took his hand. Her hand was absurdly dwarfed in his grip. "Nice to meet you, Mr. McCoy."
"Just Hank, if you will."
Rose smiled sweetly, taking care not to frighten him with her lethal fangs. "Nice to meet you 'Ank."
"I've been informed by the professor here that you are to instruct our students in the arts?" Hank asked.
"Yes."
"Good. Everyone needs a touch of art in their lives." Hank sipped a bit of the soup, crunching a carrot. "Mm. I like. I like a lot." Pointing to the bowl, he asked, "Where did you get this recipe?"
"From a woman who vas trying to protect a local church from vandalism. She gave me shelter and taught me how to cook for myself, in return that I pretend to be a demon, to scare avay the ones who were trashing the church." Rose flashed him a toothy grin. "They never came back. And now the St. Peter's Church in the town of Blanch is rumored to be haunted by a she- demon."
"Hm," Xavier said, still having soup. Apparently, he was impressed as well. "Which reminds me..." He set the bowl on his lap and looked up to Rose. "Do you have an alias?"
Rose's eyes seemed to shine their brightest. "In the circus, I vas known as...the Demoness."
***** Kurt had been trying with all his might at becoming more and more acquainted with her. He often asked her questions about her past, hobbies, and things like that. Rose usually responded with a walk around the gardens. Rose apparently adored the garden. She went to great lengths each and every plant's name. And then went even farther to learn their names in Latin, Portugese, Chinese, Swedish, French, Japanese, Mexican...
"The hundreds of scents clear my mind," Rose explained when he questioned her floral hobby. "And I never saw too many flowers and plants, living under the bridge of Blanch."
Kurt winced at hearing this, and tried to hide it, but it seemed as if nothing got past Rose Blanch. She smiled sweetly at him. "Don't vorry. You're not the first to pity me."
"I don't pity you, Rose," Kurt responded.
"Oh, but you do! You do!" She chuckled and plucked a lily flower from its bush. She breathed it in, then sighed. "You do," she repeated, staring at the flower. "But please don't."
"Okay." Kurt had followed her round the gardens, patiently listening to her and making sure he didn't hurt Rose's feelings by asking too many questions; she seemed so fragile and tender, like a baby, and he in now way wanted her harmed.
But she almost demanded questions about EVERYTHING: "Vhy is the sky blue, Kurt?" "Kurt, vhat is this flower's name?" "Kurt, do you like living here?"
At first, he started to think that she knew little to nothing, and had dared to ask about her education. "I am very educated, Kurt," Rose said. Looking up, she said, "Kurt, 'ow far avay is the sun?"
He looked up. "I dunno...pretty far avay, I think." Kurt looked back to Rose, blinking away spots from gazing at the sun. "Vhy do you ask so many questions?"
Rose smiled at him Every fiber of her being said, "Isn't it obvious?" When she saw that it wasn't that obvious to Kurt, she said cheerily, "'Ow do you learn things about me, Kurt?"
"I ask you questions."
"Loots of questions?" Nobody knew why, but Rose's pronunciation of "lots" always came out as "loots", though Kurt's didn't.
Kurt thought about that. It was true, he did ask her questions, but not so many that she felt uncomfortable. "Not too many, I think."
"So how much 'ave you learned about me, Kurt?"
He paused and thought even harder. "Well...you like flowers...and questions...and cooking..." He trailed off, slightly stunned. He'd learned very little about his sister. "That is why I ask YOU loots of questions, Kurt," said Rose. "I learn not just from your answers, but from the vay you move, the vay you speak, the vay you react to my questions. It is really very simple, you see, Kurt." She tilted her head to the side, giving him a curious look and flashing that exceedingly frightening grin. "See? You ask loots of question, you receive loots of answers, Kurt."
If you want to play that game...thought Kurt slyly. "Okay. More questions. Vhy do you always say my name?"
"You 'ave a very handsome name, Kurt. Our mother chose it because she thought it vas a strong, noble name, and she vanted you to be all of that."
Kurt recoiled at the mention of Mystique, lips curling back in hate. This didn't go unnoticed by Rose. She frowned. "I suppose you do not like Mother?"
"No," Kurt answered sincerely, eyes flashing. "I do not. She does 'orrible things that makes me ashamed to call her my mother."
"Oh, yes, I forgot," Rose answered, staying calm as Kurt fumed, "about our mother's...current habits."
"I guess so."
The next few minutes were spent in silence. Some of the other kids charged in, making both Kurt and Rose jump, and began playing basketball. Unable to stand the silence, Kurt blurted out, "Who is our father?"
Rose stared at him, then gestured for him to follow her somewhere more private. She led him into the trees, out of sight and sound from the rest of the Institute. When she was sure no one was eavesdropping on them, Rose sighed. "Our father was normal human. He 'ad known our mother since childhood, and so vasn't frightened by her odd appearance." She paused, looking upset. Kurt stayed silent, curious of his still dark and shielded past. "Mother loved him, very much, and he loved her too...they married a year before I vas born." Rose gazed sadly at her long hands, as was her usual habit, wiggling all four fingers. "Vhen I was born, Mother was deeply upset; she 'ad been 'oping for a normal child, but she 'ad me instead. But our father comforted her, saying that I vas perfect."
Rose took in a deep breath. Kurt noticed her eyes had become very moist. "Mother became pregnant again, vith you, Kurt. Father vas so very much in love with you. He vas so proud of you." Rose sighed heavily, and a tear streaked down her face. Kurt wanted to reach up and brush it away, but was too transfixed by her haunting tale to move. "But then...Mother vas alvays a rebel, I suppose, and she teamed up vith the mutant, Magneto, in order to protect us from the rest of the vorld. Father didn't vant her to; he knew that once she fixes her eyes on something, she vouldn't stop at nothing to reach her goal." Another deep breath. "Father stood in Magneto's way, veakening our mother until she vas going to leave Magneto. Magneto killed our father. Mother tried to run, taking us vith her, but..."
Rose stopped, her eyes producing more and more tears. "You know vhat happened after that, Kurt."
Kurt only stared at her, his jaw hanging in shock. When he finally recovered from his initial shock, he said quietly, "Do you 'ave a picture of him?"
"Yes.." Rose reached into the back of her jeans. She pulled out a half- ripped picture of a man holding a tiny baby.
A blue baby.
"Is that me?" Kurt said, clasping the photo in both hands, staring hard at it. He suddenly laughed. "I vas little." My father- man, man, man, man, man - no. My father. Kurt couldn't let go of it, gazing at it like it was the very thing that gave him life. His father was actually very handsome; his hair was an awful lot like Kurt's, save for the fact it was dark brown with a snow-white skunk-stripe in the front. He was smiling, a smile that Kurt easily identified with Rose. He wore glasses that sat in front of stormy- grey eyes. His face was much like Kurt's, so were his eyebrows, and his forehead...in fact, much of this man reminded Kurt of himself.
He stroked the photograph lovingly. "My father..." Looking up at Rose, he asked, "What vas his name, Rose?"
"Gordon, Gordon Darkholme..." Rose put her left hand to her head, like she had a migraine, and turned around.
Kurt was still looking at the picture. He found it hard to believe he was once so tiny that his father could hold him in one hand. The Kurt in the photo was covered in a fine down, his tail fairly stumpy and wrapped around Gordon's thumb. Kurt began to tremble.
"Keep the photo, der Bruder," Rose said. When he turned around to give it back, she was gone.
*****
Where am I? wondered Rose. Her eyes fluttered open to stare at a metal ceiling. A lamp hanging down to her shone harsh light, making her scarlet pupils shrink.
"Nice of you to join us."
Immediately on high alert, Rose was instantly on her feet and into a battle stance. There were four people in the room with her; a man in a wheelchair, one woman, a second rough-looking man, and...
Oh, it couldn't be!
But there he was, her sibling. Her brother. Kurt. He's grown! she thought happily, barely able to contain the happiness she felt now. It was mind- blowing; only sixteen years ago, she'd been able to hold him in her hands! But now...
"Rose?" asked the man in the wheelchair.
Jerking out of her blissful stupor, she looked at the man. "What? Who are you?"
The disabled man put a hand to his chest. "I am Charles Xavier."
"Yes...I believe I 'ave heard of you."
Xavier smiled. "I most certainly hope so." Sweeping to Logan and Storm, he said, "He is Logan, and she is Ororo. But you may call them Wolverine and Storm."
They exchanged greetings, introductions, and polite compliments. Kurt, in the midst of this, stayed quiet, trying to sort out his feelings. Should he be happy that a relative had found him? Or was she just like his...he shuddered...mother? Did she like him at all? Would he like her?
Looking at Rose, he instantly knew the answer to the last question. He could see from the way she moved, the way she talked...everything about her made him feel very loving and a tad bit protective to her. When she finally turned to him, Kurt straightened and tried to look less nervous than he really was. Rose saw right through this, and chuckled. Kurt felt his face flush.
"Rose," said Xavier, "would you like to explain where you have been all these years?"
She turned to him, her expression stern. "Yes...with pleasure."
*****
"And so you 'ave been in Germany all these years?" Kurt asked. His voice was filled curiosity, wonder, and - just a little - sadness.
Rose smiled from the couch. They were now in the living room, still with most of the pupils of the school trying to hear and see what was happening. "Yes, but not just Germany." She held up her hands, ticking off all four of her digits as she spoke. "Sweden, France, Yugoslavia, England..." She looked up and smiled gently, barely showing her formidable fangs. "As you can see, I am quite the world traveler, but my destiny vas always America."
"Vhy?"
Slumping back into the couch, Rose closed her eyes. "As you all know, I used to vork for in the circus. Once, you and your adopted parents came to see my show. Of course, none of you remembered me, and I didn't get the chance to see you until later; when you left, your tail vas sticking out of your cloak. I had a suspicion, so I followed you home, and sure enough, it vas you."
She looked down, gazing down at her hands. "But I never got the courage to confront you, afraid of rejection. When I finally met your parents again, they vere rather...alarmed at the sight of me..."
Xavier suddenly caught the image of a woman trying to beat on Rose with a frying pan.
"...but vhen they realized who I was, they talked rather easily about you, Kurt. They also told me you had gone to America, to an Institution for mutants." She folded her long fingers together, giving the effect of someone very tired and old and wise. "So I vorked harder, barely spending any money even on food, until I had the currency to come here." She opened her eyes. "And here I am."
"Wow," Kurt said. He was still in shock over that one little fact: He had a sister! A SISTER! Someone to share secrets with, someone to give him advice, someone to comfort and be comforted by. Looking over at the professor, he could see that the old man understood, and smiled. "That's amazing, Rose."
"Thank you."
"I still cannot believe..." Kurt paused, trying his best to put his emotions and thoughts into words, "...that you came all this vay, just for me."
Rose smiled softly. "Not 'just' for you, Kurt. I came for my family." She and Kurt just looked at each other for a moment, taking in the peaceful silence.
Xavier cleared his throat quietly, bringing them out of their trance. "Rose, I was wondering...do you have a job here in the city?"
Rose shook her head. "No, I do not. And I spent nearly all of my money on the trip 'ere."
"Hm..." Xavier put the tips of his fingers together, his eyes dark and thoughtful. "Do you specialize in anything?"
"Such as?"
"Well, cooking, the arts, music -"
"Die Kunt," Rose blurted. Seeing that only Kurt had understood her, she added, "Art, such as music and photography. I can also cook rather vell."
Xavier grinned brightly. "We have never had the students study cooking, or very much music. How would you like to be a teacher here, and tutor our young students?" Both his and Rose's eyes traveled to the windows. Young faces instantly disappeared.
Rose looked back to Kurt and Xavier, her stormy and flaming eyes pensive. After a, at least to Kurt, full minute of torture, she finally smiled, this time baring every single fang in her skull. It would have been incredibly frightening if she was angry. "I vould love to."
*****
"Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaawn!" announced Evan as he, Scott, and Jean walked down the hall and to the kitchen. "Man! I am SO hungry!"
"Yeah!"agreed Jean. "I could eat a horse!"
All three laughed but were instantly silenced when they came into the kitchen.
There stood Rose in a pair of jeans and a light blue shirt that Storm had given her. She was chopping up a carrot with swiftness and expertise. She gently slid the carrot slices into a pot on the stove that was emitting some incredibly wonderful and soothing smells. Other students and Logan were at the table, eating their hearts out on their favorite breakfasts and forgetting all manners in their feast.
None of them had been able to see her last night (they had lost their spots by the windows) , so they were at first shocked by her looks. But they were quickly over it, having lived with Kurt and Hank McCoy for so long.
One ear swerved to them the instant that Evan's squeaky shoes touched the floor. It was soon followed by the rest of Rose's head. "Good morning. Vhat vould you three like?"
"Oh, you gotta get some of her chow!" cried Jamie Madrox, otherwise known as Multiple, waving a fork with a buttered piece of waffle on the end. "She's a great cook! Try some!"
The others murmured their agreement through full mouths. Even Logan said, as he chewed his way into a large pancake, "I'll admit it..." He swallowed. "I've never had food this good."
"Er..." Scott looked over at Jean and Evan, then back at Rose. "I'd like some of that soup. Please. It smells great."
"Thank you." Her tail snapped to a counter in the blink of an eye, opening the door and flinging out a bowl. Before Scott could catch it, Rose had expertly unfolded one wing and caught it. Taking it in both of her hands, she used her tail to wrap around the ladle and poured some of the stew into the bowl, not spilling a drop. "Here you go," she said, handing him the bowl. As Scott took it, her hand brushed his. He was surprised at how amazingly soft her skin and fur was. It brought up a memory of a long-ago visit to the zoo and the rare chance to pet a baby white tiger.
"And you two?" Rose asked Evan and Jean.
"How about some pancakes? With cranberry jam?" asked Jean politely.
"I'll have some soup, too," Evan said, already taking a seat.
"Coming up." Rose filled up another bowl and handed it to Evan and was making two pancakes at once a split second later, flipping them so high that everyone was sure that they were going to hit the roof. Whipping her tail and snatching a jar of jam, Rose skillfully poured a bit on and tossed the plate to Jean. "Bon apatite, as your people say."
"Actually, that's what the French say."
Scott took a sip of the soup, thinking up a polite excuse...
And was blown away at the taste. "Wow! This is some soup!" He eagerly scooped it up, munching on the carrots and lingering in swallowing the spoonful, savoring the warm and slightly spice taste. It made him think of home.
Rose smiled politely. "Thank you, Scott." She turned back to her work, busily stirring and chopping and flipping.
Xavier and Hank walked (or wheeled) into the room, gazing around at all the satisfied faces. "I see that you are perfectly at home in the kitchen, Rose," commented Xavier, amused.
Hank sniffed the air delicately. "I say, what is that lavish smell?"
Rose was quick to offer him and Xavier a bowl of soup each. "Give me your opinion, Professor." Turning to Hank, she said, "I do not believe we 'ave met. You are?"
Hank offered her one large hand for her slender one. "Hank McCoy, one of the teachers here. I'm also known as Beast."
"I see." She took his hand. Her hand was absurdly dwarfed in his grip. "Nice to meet you, Mr. McCoy."
"Just Hank, if you will."
Rose smiled sweetly, taking care not to frighten him with her lethal fangs. "Nice to meet you 'Ank."
"I've been informed by the professor here that you are to instruct our students in the arts?" Hank asked.
"Yes."
"Good. Everyone needs a touch of art in their lives." Hank sipped a bit of the soup, crunching a carrot. "Mm. I like. I like a lot." Pointing to the bowl, he asked, "Where did you get this recipe?"
"From a woman who vas trying to protect a local church from vandalism. She gave me shelter and taught me how to cook for myself, in return that I pretend to be a demon, to scare avay the ones who were trashing the church." Rose flashed him a toothy grin. "They never came back. And now the St. Peter's Church in the town of Blanch is rumored to be haunted by a she- demon."
"Hm," Xavier said, still having soup. Apparently, he was impressed as well. "Which reminds me..." He set the bowl on his lap and looked up to Rose. "Do you have an alias?"
Rose's eyes seemed to shine their brightest. "In the circus, I vas known as...the Demoness."
***** Kurt had been trying with all his might at becoming more and more acquainted with her. He often asked her questions about her past, hobbies, and things like that. Rose usually responded with a walk around the gardens. Rose apparently adored the garden. She went to great lengths each and every plant's name. And then went even farther to learn their names in Latin, Portugese, Chinese, Swedish, French, Japanese, Mexican...
"The hundreds of scents clear my mind," Rose explained when he questioned her floral hobby. "And I never saw too many flowers and plants, living under the bridge of Blanch."
Kurt winced at hearing this, and tried to hide it, but it seemed as if nothing got past Rose Blanch. She smiled sweetly at him. "Don't vorry. You're not the first to pity me."
"I don't pity you, Rose," Kurt responded.
"Oh, but you do! You do!" She chuckled and plucked a lily flower from its bush. She breathed it in, then sighed. "You do," she repeated, staring at the flower. "But please don't."
"Okay." Kurt had followed her round the gardens, patiently listening to her and making sure he didn't hurt Rose's feelings by asking too many questions; she seemed so fragile and tender, like a baby, and he in now way wanted her harmed.
But she almost demanded questions about EVERYTHING: "Vhy is the sky blue, Kurt?" "Kurt, vhat is this flower's name?" "Kurt, do you like living here?"
At first, he started to think that she knew little to nothing, and had dared to ask about her education. "I am very educated, Kurt," Rose said. Looking up, she said, "Kurt, 'ow far avay is the sun?"
He looked up. "I dunno...pretty far avay, I think." Kurt looked back to Rose, blinking away spots from gazing at the sun. "Vhy do you ask so many questions?"
Rose smiled at him Every fiber of her being said, "Isn't it obvious?" When she saw that it wasn't that obvious to Kurt, she said cheerily, "'Ow do you learn things about me, Kurt?"
"I ask you questions."
"Loots of questions?" Nobody knew why, but Rose's pronunciation of "lots" always came out as "loots", though Kurt's didn't.
Kurt thought about that. It was true, he did ask her questions, but not so many that she felt uncomfortable. "Not too many, I think."
"So how much 'ave you learned about me, Kurt?"
He paused and thought even harder. "Well...you like flowers...and questions...and cooking..." He trailed off, slightly stunned. He'd learned very little about his sister. "That is why I ask YOU loots of questions, Kurt," said Rose. "I learn not just from your answers, but from the vay you move, the vay you speak, the vay you react to my questions. It is really very simple, you see, Kurt." She tilted her head to the side, giving him a curious look and flashing that exceedingly frightening grin. "See? You ask loots of question, you receive loots of answers, Kurt."
If you want to play that game...thought Kurt slyly. "Okay. More questions. Vhy do you always say my name?"
"You 'ave a very handsome name, Kurt. Our mother chose it because she thought it vas a strong, noble name, and she vanted you to be all of that."
Kurt recoiled at the mention of Mystique, lips curling back in hate. This didn't go unnoticed by Rose. She frowned. "I suppose you do not like Mother?"
"No," Kurt answered sincerely, eyes flashing. "I do not. She does 'orrible things that makes me ashamed to call her my mother."
"Oh, yes, I forgot," Rose answered, staying calm as Kurt fumed, "about our mother's...current habits."
"I guess so."
The next few minutes were spent in silence. Some of the other kids charged in, making both Kurt and Rose jump, and began playing basketball. Unable to stand the silence, Kurt blurted out, "Who is our father?"
Rose stared at him, then gestured for him to follow her somewhere more private. She led him into the trees, out of sight and sound from the rest of the Institute. When she was sure no one was eavesdropping on them, Rose sighed. "Our father was normal human. He 'ad known our mother since childhood, and so vasn't frightened by her odd appearance." She paused, looking upset. Kurt stayed silent, curious of his still dark and shielded past. "Mother loved him, very much, and he loved her too...they married a year before I vas born." Rose gazed sadly at her long hands, as was her usual habit, wiggling all four fingers. "Vhen I was born, Mother was deeply upset; she 'ad been 'oping for a normal child, but she 'ad me instead. But our father comforted her, saying that I vas perfect."
Rose took in a deep breath. Kurt noticed her eyes had become very moist. "Mother became pregnant again, vith you, Kurt. Father vas so very much in love with you. He vas so proud of you." Rose sighed heavily, and a tear streaked down her face. Kurt wanted to reach up and brush it away, but was too transfixed by her haunting tale to move. "But then...Mother vas alvays a rebel, I suppose, and she teamed up vith the mutant, Magneto, in order to protect us from the rest of the vorld. Father didn't vant her to; he knew that once she fixes her eyes on something, she vouldn't stop at nothing to reach her goal." Another deep breath. "Father stood in Magneto's way, veakening our mother until she vas going to leave Magneto. Magneto killed our father. Mother tried to run, taking us vith her, but..."
Rose stopped, her eyes producing more and more tears. "You know vhat happened after that, Kurt."
Kurt only stared at her, his jaw hanging in shock. When he finally recovered from his initial shock, he said quietly, "Do you 'ave a picture of him?"
"Yes.." Rose reached into the back of her jeans. She pulled out a half- ripped picture of a man holding a tiny baby.
A blue baby.
"Is that me?" Kurt said, clasping the photo in both hands, staring hard at it. He suddenly laughed. "I vas little." My father- man, man, man, man, man - no. My father. Kurt couldn't let go of it, gazing at it like it was the very thing that gave him life. His father was actually very handsome; his hair was an awful lot like Kurt's, save for the fact it was dark brown with a snow-white skunk-stripe in the front. He was smiling, a smile that Kurt easily identified with Rose. He wore glasses that sat in front of stormy- grey eyes. His face was much like Kurt's, so were his eyebrows, and his forehead...in fact, much of this man reminded Kurt of himself.
He stroked the photograph lovingly. "My father..." Looking up at Rose, he asked, "What vas his name, Rose?"
"Gordon, Gordon Darkholme..." Rose put her left hand to her head, like she had a migraine, and turned around.
Kurt was still looking at the picture. He found it hard to believe he was once so tiny that his father could hold him in one hand. The Kurt in the photo was covered in a fine down, his tail fairly stumpy and wrapped around Gordon's thumb. Kurt began to tremble.
"Keep the photo, der Bruder," Rose said. When he turned around to give it back, she was gone.