Authors Note: All right, I feel its only fair to warn you all that this is
probably my longest chapter yet. I honesty tried editing it down, but it
didn't seem to do much. *smiles apologetically* I can only assure you
that a great deal of it is dialogue. ^^
For any Catholics out there - sorry if I get anything wrong. I'm not a
Catholic myself and I've never been to a Catholic church. I'm just going
from what I've watched on movies. Hopefully I've got most of it right.
Kurt.
I know that you will not be expecting to receive this letter. However, there are things that you need to know. I understand that you want to know more about your past; well, I can provide you with the answers you seek. I know that you do not trust me, and if you need to talk about this with the others, I will understand.
When you are ready, I will find you.
Raven.
Kurt looked down at the note in his hands, pale eyes skimming over the words once more. He had read it several times already, and each time it seemed to make less and less sense. Mystique wanted to talk to him? Tell him the truth about his past? It just didn't add up.
Months had passed since the revelation that he was Mystique's son. For a while, he had been pretty freaked out by it. And who wouldn't be? For his entire life, his origins had been a shadowy void. He didn't know where he came from, or who his parents were, or why he had been given up. He loved his adoptive mother and father with all his heart, but that didn't stop him dreaming about what might have been.
And then, to have his childhood fantasies shattered by finding out the truth. That the mother he had longed for was in fact a person who he both feared and hated-----
Kurt shook his head. That didn't matter now. All right, he had been upset, understandably, but as time passed he had adjusted. It didn't affect his loyalties - he was still an X Man through and through - and he had next to no contact with her except when fighting the brotherhood. He may have shared her blood, but as far as he was concerned, that was an accident of birth. Mystique would NEVER be his mother.
But still, he sighed sadly. There was still a need within him to know about his past. It was all such a mystery to him, and the revelation about his parentage hadn't helped. If anything, it had only created more questions.
The blue furred boy hopped off the bed and walked out onto his balcony. The morning air was fresh and cool, and the sea was a clear turquoise. This was his place. When his head was cluttered and confused, he would go out onto his ledge to think. It had always seemed to calm him somehow.
But not today.
He flicked his tail distractedly as he watched the waves crash far below him. Frowning, he read the letter once more.
~I can provide you with the answers you seek~
The truth was, he was more than a little tempted by the offer, though he struggled against it. Mystique was his enemy - how could he trust her? This was not the first time she had sent him a note, and he knew what had happened then. He had bamfed right into a Brotherhood trap. If his friends hadn't turned up, he didn't know what would have happened.
And yet a part of him knew that she had not intended to put him in danger. The look in her eyes as she had let the hood fall from her face ---- it was a look that Kurt had never seen before, or since. And then, when the Brotherhood turned up, was that fear that crossed her features? Fear for him?
Kurt didn't know. Just for a moment, he might have mistaken her actions as parental concern, but he knew that it could not be so. Mystique was evil, pure and simple. She had used him, manipulated him. Maybe that was what was happening now. Maybe she was just toying with him.
His gaze lingered on the signature. Her handwriting was neat and elegant, and this was the first time that he had ever seen her name written down. It held his attention for a moment. Raven. Not Mystique. Raven. Somehow, it seemed significant.
~If you need to talk about this with the others, I will understand~
It had to be a trick, but if so, why would she encourage him to talk about the letter with the others? If she was trying to draw him out again, then why mention it? Nothing seemed to make sense anymore.
He was suddenly drawn from his thoughts by a knock on the door. Turning his head, he quickly stuffed the letter into his pocket. "W-who is it?" he called.
"Rogue," a muffled voice replied, "Hey, can I come in?"
He backed away from the ledge, scratching his head. "Err, sure."
The door opened and the girl entered his room. Any other time, he would have welcomed her company, but right now he had other matters on his mind.
She folded her arms across her chest, leaning on one hip. "You skipped breakfast this morning. What's up?"
He blinked. Even in his confused state, he was a little touched by her concern. She might not be as open with her emotions as some people, but she was a good friend.
"Nothings wrong. I guess I must have forgotten."
Rogue's eyebrows shot heavenward and she stared at him incredulously for a moment. Her dark lips twitched in amusement. "Well now that's something you don't hear everyday," she teased "Kurt Wagner misses meal."
He rolled his pale eyes. "I'll go and alert the media."
Rogue laughed quietly. Slowly, her smile faded, and a frown crossed her features. She tilted her head inquiringly. "You okay?"
He shrugged in what he hoped was an offhand manner. "Of course, why do you ask?"
She watched him closely. He swallowed nervously - Rogue was no fool. In her own way, she seemed to know him better than anyone else in the Institute. He wasn't sure if he would be able to lie to her for long.
"I don't know," she said after a minute "Just for a minute there you looked- --" she trailed into silence, shaking her head.
He half considered telling her there and then, but something held him back. He needed to understand things in his own head before he could talk about them to other people. It wasn't that he didn't trust Rogue - he did. Even the first time when Mystique had tried to contact him, it had been her who helped him through it. She knew how he felt about the whole Mystique issue. But just now, he could not talk to anyone, not even her.
The raven-haired boy forced a grin. "Hungry. I looked hungry." Placing his three-fingered hand on her shoulder, he steered her out of the door. "Do you suppose they've got leftovers downstairs?"
She watched him uneasily for a moment. She was aware that something was bothering him, but she knew better than to push. He would talk to her when he was ready.
"Alright. But if you start eating with your toes again, I swear I'm gonna hurl."
He looked down at her in false innocence. "No feet near the food, I promise."
Breakfast was a strained affair that morning. Kurt went through the motions - throwing in a joke or two for good measure - but both of the teenagers were painfully aware of how false his grin was. His laugh rang hollow, even to his own ears, and every bite he ate weighed like lead in his stomach. And over it all was the letter, casting dark gloom over his thoughts. Kurt may have been physically sitting at the table, but his mind was a thousand miles away.
Ororo leaned against the doorway, a strand of silver hair falling over her milky coffee brow, eyes closed sadly. A weary sigh escaped her lips. When she looked up, she saw a dark shadow fall next to her. They were both silent for a moment, watching unseen as the two young X Men ate. Finally, it was Hank who spoke.
"Kind of hard to believe, huh?"
The goddess nodded solemnly. "Yes."
Hank paused for a moment, a meditative frown crossing his furred features. "Do you think we're doing the right thing by not telling them?"
Closing the door noiselessly so as not to be noticed, Ororo turned and began to walk slowly down the hall. "Charles has made his decision. I will support him on any course of action he chooses."
"As will I. I just - " he folded his arms across his broad chest, "I just can't help but feel that we're making a big mistake. They're good kids, they deserve to know the truth."
She stared grimly ahead. "I know. I feel the same."
The two older mutants turned the corner in the corridor, a mutual silence falling over them as they passed Scott and Jean. Hank gave them a friendly nod, waiting until they were out of hearing range before resuming the conversation.
"How is the Professor's search going?"
"I think it is harder than he initially anticipated. The social services network is, I'm afraid, rather a mess. He has yet to find any conclusive documents that relate to Rogue or her family." She turned to look at him. "What about you? How are the blood tests going?"
He was quiet for a moment. "I had to send for some specialist equipment for the lab before I could perform the tests. Luckily I still have some friends in the scientific community. They were able to fix me up with the apparatus, no questions asked." He paused thoughtfully, blue eyes fixed to the ground. "I have the results," he told her quietly after a beat.
Ororo took a deep breath. "Have you informed Charles yet?"
"No, not yet. I was just going to go and see him now." He shook his shaggy head and looked up at her.
She swallowed, white eyebrows pulled together. "And? Kurt and Rogue --- are they related?" The question hung in the silence between them, bleak and heavy. No matter what the answer, it would have long reaching reprocutions - not only for Kurt and Rogue, but for all of the X Men.
Hank didn't reply instantly. After a moment, he sighed heavily. "I told the Professor that we would join him in his study presently - we should hurry."
Wordlessly, the two mutants continued down the corridor.
The church was deserted.
Not surprising, Kurt thought, for this time of day. All of the services had finished hours ago and the golden afternoon sun was shining in through the tall windows. His mind flicked briefly to the Catholic Church in his hometown, back in Germany. It had been an old stone building, all gothic arches and stained glass. These American churches were not quite the same, he mused sadly. They were newer, brighter. The smell of the burning incense had been replaced by the scent of new carpeting. But still, he supposed that some things were universal. Even in this comparatively new space, there was a kind of reverend silence, a hallowed stillness. He stood motionless in the doorway for a moment, letting the heavy quiet enshroud him. If he closed his eyes, he could almost hear the echoes of his parish choir as they sang for the glory of God. A familiar serenity filled him suddenly, and, for the first time in a long time, he was at peace. He didn't know how long it had been since he had walked from the Institute gates. All he was aware of was wandering the streets of Bayville - neither knowing nor caring where he was heading. His mind was so clouded; the day was nothing but a blur to him. All he could think of was Mystique and the letter. Now he found himself drifting up the aisle, dark gaze fixed ahead. At the end of his pew-lined path, a statue Virgin Mary watched his progress with benevolent plaster eyes. In her cold arms she held the infant Jesus, the baby's tiny hand raised in blessing. Crossing himself, he sat down on a nearby pew. He bowed his head, folding his three-fingered hands on his lap. His lips moved as he recited a quiet prayer, hushed words almost soundless, even in the still silence of the church. "Our Father," he whispered, "Thou art in Heaven. Hallowed be thy name. Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who have trespassed against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the Kingdom, the power and the glory. Forever and Ever. Amen." The prayer ended and Kurt remained motionless - waiting. After a few minutes, it became increasingly apparent to the young mutant that nothing was going to happen. What had he been expecting? Kurt wasn't certain, but something inside him was a little disappointed that his prayer had not been acknowledged in some way.
Opening his eyes, he was suddenly startled to find that he was not alone in the Church. The priest stood in the doorway to the side chapel, dark and solemn in the shadows.
Kurt blushed hot under his fur, though his holographic face remained pale as ever. He cleared his throat awkwardly, looking away. "I-I'm sorry Father, I didn't mean to disturb you. I thought that the Church was empty." Running a hand through his raven hair, he stood hurriedly.
The Priest seemed amused by his discomfort, a small smile flickering on his amiable features. "My dear boy," he chuckled "This is a house of God. Its doors are always open. If anybody should be apologising, it's me. I hadn't meant to draw you from your prayer."
Kurt shrugged. "It wasn't important."
"Oh?" The older man raised his greying eyebrows. "In my experience, teenagers do not come to church in the middle of the afternoon if it is not important." He tilted his head inquiringly "Tell me what troubles you."
The boy's dark eyes remained trained to the ground. He frowned intently at his shoes. "Its kind of a secret," he murmured.
"I understand."
A brief silence passed between them as the Priest watched Kurt closely. The watery yellow light streaming in from the windows caught the falling dust, making it glow like silver snow.
"Perhaps it would help if you talked about what is troubling you?"
The young mutant gave a short laugh. "You got a spare couple of hours?"
"Actually, yes as it happens." The old man smiled and tapped at his dog collar. "One of the perks of the Priesthood. Free housing, great pension scheme and more spare time than you could ever possibly need."
Kurt's pale brow pulled together in a look of uncertainty. He had to talk to someone. So many thoughts whirling around in his head, so many questions --- it was driving his crazy. But could he entrust his secrets with this stranger, even if he was a Priest? Kurt's Catholic upbringing gave him a deep-rooted trust and respect of all men of the cloth, but just how far could he take that trust without putting his friends in danger?
The boy scratched his head and glanced around him. "Could we go in there?" he asked quietly, pointing two joined fingers to the confession box.
The Priest nodded. "If you wish."
Kurt paused. "Anything said in there --- you can't ever talk about it with other people, right?"
He shook his greying head. "I'm bound by sacred oaths. Anything spoken within that box in strictly between you and me," he raised his watery eyes heavenwards "And Him, of course."
The teenager looked to the plaster Virgin Mary. Her blank smile was unmoving, her dead eyes all-seeing. They had had a similar statue back in his hometown. It gave him a strange sense of comfort that the Holy Mother continued to watch him, wherever he might be.
He turned to the Priest, jaw firm and resolute. "Alright then."
"Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It has been almost a year since my last confession."
The shadow behind the screen shifted. "Why so long, my son?"
In the stuffy confines of the confession box, Kurt shrugged - a pointless gesture, as the Priest could not see him. "I don't know. I used to go to Mass every Sunday when I lived in Germany, but now --- " he trailed into silence.
The other man paused for a moment. "Do you say your prayers at home?"
Kurt sighed, ashamed. "No. Not any more."
"Why is that?"
The small room was enshrouded in gloom and the young mutant found his eyes transfixed by the slim horizon of light underneath the closed door. The air was close and musty, like the pages of an old book.
"I share a room with another boy."
The shadow behind the screen moved - a nod of understanding perhaps? "Are you ashamed of your beliefs?"
Kurt blinked. "No."
There was a moment of considering silence. Finally, the Priest spoke again. "There are no secrets before God, my son," he said quietly.
Blushing hot, the boy closed his dark eyes. He bowed his head, heavy strands of hair falling over his face. "They wouldn't understand. My religion," he sought the right words "its --- its very important to me. Its --- private."
"A love for God is nothing to hide in shame. If these people are truly your friends then they will not mock you for your beliefs. "
"But that's the thing, they don't see me as having beliefs." Kurt closed his eyes and rested his head in his hands. "They just see me as this big goof who doesn't take anything seriously."
Behind the screen, the Priest frowned. "And are you?"
"Yes. No. Sometimes I guess." He shook his head in confusion.
The older man seemed to understand his answer, even if Kurt did not. "Believe it or not, I was once young myself, though it was a long time ago." From behind the screen, the boy heard a weary sigh. "Being different can be hard, and there will always be those who do not understand. It can be a long and lonely road for those of us who are not normal. Fear and prejudice are dangerous things. They turn even the most innocent of us into monsters. Don't down that road, my boy. If you have found people who can accept you for what you are, don't try and push them away." There was a pause, and when the Priest continued, his voice had become low and considering. "I made that mistake long ago, and not a day has gone by since when I have not regretted it."
A meditative silence fell over them. In the cool darkness of the confession box, they were isolated from the rest of the Church --- from the rest of the world even. Thoughts came easily in this place of brutal honesty. Kurt's dark eyes lifted Heavenward, searching in vain for something tangible.
"Father?" he murmured, "Can I ask you a question?"
The shadow behind the screen shifted, as if awakening from a heavy sleep. "Of course."
The boy hesitated, guilt making the words catch in his throat. "Is --- is it a sin, to hate someone?"
"To hate is always a sin, you know that."
"But," Kurt frowned, "But what if this person was bad. I mean really really bad. We're talking hyped up uber evil here. Is it still wrong?"
The Priest seemed to dwell on his words for a moment. "Have they ill- treated you in any way?"
The young mutant gave a hard laugh. "Ja, just a bit."
Again, there was a pause for thought. "To hate is a failing, though a very common one. You say this person is bad. Do you know why this is?"
Kurt grimaced. "You mean aside from that fact that she's a psycho?"
"Aside from that."
He frowned, considering the question. Of course he had often wondered why Mystique was the way that she was. But with no knowledge of her past, of who she was --- he had yet to come to any conclusion other than his own personal psychopath theory. "No," he was forced to admit "No I don't know."
"As I expected. You know, it's far easier to judge people, than to try to understand them. Have you yourself ever been judged on the basis of your outer appearance alone?"
Boy, Kurt thought bitterly, have I ever! He was young, but he was no stranger to the uninformed opinions of others.
"Yes."
The shadow seemed satisfied with this answer. "So you see," he continued, "Perhaps it is possible that you are mistaken in your opinions on this person."
Kurt shifted uncomfortably. The old mans words had struck a cord within him somehow. He had so often been on the receiving end of the ignorance of others; it was disconcerting to think that he might have been doing the same. "Kind of like that whole, 'Judge not lest ye be judged' thing, huh?"
"Ah, the boy knows his scripture," there was a horse chuckle from behind the screen, "Yes, that is exactly what I was getting at."
Kurt narrowed his eyes at the ribbon of light by his feet. A deep shadow fell across his face as he lowered his head. "This person, if they sent you a letter saying that they wanted to talk to you --- should you do it?"
The Priests humour faded into solemnity. "Well now, I imagine that would matter on the circumstances of the situation."
"I mean, what if this person had lied to you before, and you weren't sure if you could trust them." he shifted uneasily, clasping his hands. "What then?" He waited expectantly.
The Priest mused silently for a moment. "The Lord does not want for you to endanger yourself in anyway," he started slowly "But on the other hand, if there is a possibility of an offered olive branch, then it is every Christians duty to try to reach out to those in need."
Kurt sighed slowly. "You think that I should go and see her, don't you?"
The shadow moved in a nodding motion. "Yes, my son. I think that you should."
The boy closed his eyes and allowed the darkness to gather around him. He had known in his heart that that was the only real solution to his problem, though he had tried to deny it. He still distrusted Mystique, but what choice did he have? He needed to know the truth.
"However," the Priest continued after a moment, "I do not think that you should go alone."
Kurt raised his head. "What do you mean?"
"Is there anyone who you feel that you can trust to share this information with? Who might understand what you are going through?"
The young mutant frowned and shook his head resolutely. "No, I can't tell anyone about this."
"Why?"
"They would only try and stop me."
The Priest seemed somehow satisfied with the answer, as if he understood. "Perhaps there is a special friend amongst them? Someone different --- like yourself?"
Kurt ran a hand through his hair, letting the raven strands flop back over his forehead. He paused thoughtfully. "Well," he lowered his voice considerately "There's Rogue I guess."
Although he could not see it, a knowing smile played on the older mans mouth.
"Do you trust this person with your secrets?"
The boy paused in thought. "Ja. I trust her."
"She must be very close to you."
Kurt blushed hot under his fur. "I guess. She's a good friend, and she's helped me through a lot of stuff in the past."
"You sound as if you care about her a great deal."
He nodded. "I think she's understand."
The Priest rested his chin in his hand. "Then you must talk about this with her. Perhaps she will consent to accompanying you when you meet with this other person."
Kurt's dark eyebrows pulled together. "Do you think that that is what I should do?"
"I am not here to tell you the path you should walk - I can only advise based on my own experience. But it seems to me as though you have been given a rare opportunity here. If I were in your position, I would not dismiss it readily. Trust in the Lord, and he shall guide you."
It was a cryptic response, but one that Kurt had been expecting. He sighed and rose to his feet, resolution clouding his dark eyes.
"Thank you Father. I think I know what to do now."
The shadow behind the screen nodded. "I only wish that I had better advice for you-"
"No," Kurt interjected "no, this has helped me a lot. Thanks."
There was a pause. "You're welcome."
The young mutant waited for a moment, but the Priest seemed to have finished. He took a step forward and placed his fingers on the cool metal handle.
"Son?"
Kurt glanced quickly to the screen. "Yes Father?"
The older man was silent. Finally, he sighed wearily, leaning his head back against the hard wooden wall. "Good luck, whatever happens. And don't neglect your Religion. I expect to start seeing you at Mass on a Sunday."
He gave a small smile. "Perhaps."
He blinked thoughtfully, and walked out into the light.
The Priest waited, silent and motionless in the cool dark. Finally, the sound of the boy's footsteps faded to nothing, and the church door closed with a final, resounding thud. He waited a moment further, then rose from his seat, standing tall. His watery eyes closed briefly as he lowered his head.
A subtle wave seemed to pass over the old man's body. His aged frame stretched and elongated, skin darkening to an unnatural azure. The greying hair lengthened, melting into flaming scarlet, burning bright against the gloom.
The change was swift, lasting for only a matter of seconds. She remained unmoving in the darkness for a moment, chest rising in a deep breath. Her pale eyes snapped open and a dark smirk curved her lips.
Mystique.
Everything was going as planned. Kurt had responded as she had known that he would. It almost surprised her how easily she had been able to manipulate him. Rogue would be harder to ensnare, but everybody had a weakness. Rogue would follow Kurt anywhere; Mystique had no doubt about that.
With one swift move, she would bring her children home.
All she had to do now was to sit back and wait for them to come to her.
Kurt.
I know that you will not be expecting to receive this letter. However, there are things that you need to know. I understand that you want to know more about your past; well, I can provide you with the answers you seek. I know that you do not trust me, and if you need to talk about this with the others, I will understand.
When you are ready, I will find you.
Raven.
Kurt looked down at the note in his hands, pale eyes skimming over the words once more. He had read it several times already, and each time it seemed to make less and less sense. Mystique wanted to talk to him? Tell him the truth about his past? It just didn't add up.
Months had passed since the revelation that he was Mystique's son. For a while, he had been pretty freaked out by it. And who wouldn't be? For his entire life, his origins had been a shadowy void. He didn't know where he came from, or who his parents were, or why he had been given up. He loved his adoptive mother and father with all his heart, but that didn't stop him dreaming about what might have been.
And then, to have his childhood fantasies shattered by finding out the truth. That the mother he had longed for was in fact a person who he both feared and hated-----
Kurt shook his head. That didn't matter now. All right, he had been upset, understandably, but as time passed he had adjusted. It didn't affect his loyalties - he was still an X Man through and through - and he had next to no contact with her except when fighting the brotherhood. He may have shared her blood, but as far as he was concerned, that was an accident of birth. Mystique would NEVER be his mother.
But still, he sighed sadly. There was still a need within him to know about his past. It was all such a mystery to him, and the revelation about his parentage hadn't helped. If anything, it had only created more questions.
The blue furred boy hopped off the bed and walked out onto his balcony. The morning air was fresh and cool, and the sea was a clear turquoise. This was his place. When his head was cluttered and confused, he would go out onto his ledge to think. It had always seemed to calm him somehow.
But not today.
He flicked his tail distractedly as he watched the waves crash far below him. Frowning, he read the letter once more.
~I can provide you with the answers you seek~
The truth was, he was more than a little tempted by the offer, though he struggled against it. Mystique was his enemy - how could he trust her? This was not the first time she had sent him a note, and he knew what had happened then. He had bamfed right into a Brotherhood trap. If his friends hadn't turned up, he didn't know what would have happened.
And yet a part of him knew that she had not intended to put him in danger. The look in her eyes as she had let the hood fall from her face ---- it was a look that Kurt had never seen before, or since. And then, when the Brotherhood turned up, was that fear that crossed her features? Fear for him?
Kurt didn't know. Just for a moment, he might have mistaken her actions as parental concern, but he knew that it could not be so. Mystique was evil, pure and simple. She had used him, manipulated him. Maybe that was what was happening now. Maybe she was just toying with him.
His gaze lingered on the signature. Her handwriting was neat and elegant, and this was the first time that he had ever seen her name written down. It held his attention for a moment. Raven. Not Mystique. Raven. Somehow, it seemed significant.
~If you need to talk about this with the others, I will understand~
It had to be a trick, but if so, why would she encourage him to talk about the letter with the others? If she was trying to draw him out again, then why mention it? Nothing seemed to make sense anymore.
He was suddenly drawn from his thoughts by a knock on the door. Turning his head, he quickly stuffed the letter into his pocket. "W-who is it?" he called.
"Rogue," a muffled voice replied, "Hey, can I come in?"
He backed away from the ledge, scratching his head. "Err, sure."
The door opened and the girl entered his room. Any other time, he would have welcomed her company, but right now he had other matters on his mind.
She folded her arms across her chest, leaning on one hip. "You skipped breakfast this morning. What's up?"
He blinked. Even in his confused state, he was a little touched by her concern. She might not be as open with her emotions as some people, but she was a good friend.
"Nothings wrong. I guess I must have forgotten."
Rogue's eyebrows shot heavenward and she stared at him incredulously for a moment. Her dark lips twitched in amusement. "Well now that's something you don't hear everyday," she teased "Kurt Wagner misses meal."
He rolled his pale eyes. "I'll go and alert the media."
Rogue laughed quietly. Slowly, her smile faded, and a frown crossed her features. She tilted her head inquiringly. "You okay?"
He shrugged in what he hoped was an offhand manner. "Of course, why do you ask?"
She watched him closely. He swallowed nervously - Rogue was no fool. In her own way, she seemed to know him better than anyone else in the Institute. He wasn't sure if he would be able to lie to her for long.
"I don't know," she said after a minute "Just for a minute there you looked- --" she trailed into silence, shaking her head.
He half considered telling her there and then, but something held him back. He needed to understand things in his own head before he could talk about them to other people. It wasn't that he didn't trust Rogue - he did. Even the first time when Mystique had tried to contact him, it had been her who helped him through it. She knew how he felt about the whole Mystique issue. But just now, he could not talk to anyone, not even her.
The raven-haired boy forced a grin. "Hungry. I looked hungry." Placing his three-fingered hand on her shoulder, he steered her out of the door. "Do you suppose they've got leftovers downstairs?"
She watched him uneasily for a moment. She was aware that something was bothering him, but she knew better than to push. He would talk to her when he was ready.
"Alright. But if you start eating with your toes again, I swear I'm gonna hurl."
He looked down at her in false innocence. "No feet near the food, I promise."
Breakfast was a strained affair that morning. Kurt went through the motions - throwing in a joke or two for good measure - but both of the teenagers were painfully aware of how false his grin was. His laugh rang hollow, even to his own ears, and every bite he ate weighed like lead in his stomach. And over it all was the letter, casting dark gloom over his thoughts. Kurt may have been physically sitting at the table, but his mind was a thousand miles away.
Ororo leaned against the doorway, a strand of silver hair falling over her milky coffee brow, eyes closed sadly. A weary sigh escaped her lips. When she looked up, she saw a dark shadow fall next to her. They were both silent for a moment, watching unseen as the two young X Men ate. Finally, it was Hank who spoke.
"Kind of hard to believe, huh?"
The goddess nodded solemnly. "Yes."
Hank paused for a moment, a meditative frown crossing his furred features. "Do you think we're doing the right thing by not telling them?"
Closing the door noiselessly so as not to be noticed, Ororo turned and began to walk slowly down the hall. "Charles has made his decision. I will support him on any course of action he chooses."
"As will I. I just - " he folded his arms across his broad chest, "I just can't help but feel that we're making a big mistake. They're good kids, they deserve to know the truth."
She stared grimly ahead. "I know. I feel the same."
The two older mutants turned the corner in the corridor, a mutual silence falling over them as they passed Scott and Jean. Hank gave them a friendly nod, waiting until they were out of hearing range before resuming the conversation.
"How is the Professor's search going?"
"I think it is harder than he initially anticipated. The social services network is, I'm afraid, rather a mess. He has yet to find any conclusive documents that relate to Rogue or her family." She turned to look at him. "What about you? How are the blood tests going?"
He was quiet for a moment. "I had to send for some specialist equipment for the lab before I could perform the tests. Luckily I still have some friends in the scientific community. They were able to fix me up with the apparatus, no questions asked." He paused thoughtfully, blue eyes fixed to the ground. "I have the results," he told her quietly after a beat.
Ororo took a deep breath. "Have you informed Charles yet?"
"No, not yet. I was just going to go and see him now." He shook his shaggy head and looked up at her.
She swallowed, white eyebrows pulled together. "And? Kurt and Rogue --- are they related?" The question hung in the silence between them, bleak and heavy. No matter what the answer, it would have long reaching reprocutions - not only for Kurt and Rogue, but for all of the X Men.
Hank didn't reply instantly. After a moment, he sighed heavily. "I told the Professor that we would join him in his study presently - we should hurry."
Wordlessly, the two mutants continued down the corridor.
The church was deserted.
Not surprising, Kurt thought, for this time of day. All of the services had finished hours ago and the golden afternoon sun was shining in through the tall windows. His mind flicked briefly to the Catholic Church in his hometown, back in Germany. It had been an old stone building, all gothic arches and stained glass. These American churches were not quite the same, he mused sadly. They were newer, brighter. The smell of the burning incense had been replaced by the scent of new carpeting. But still, he supposed that some things were universal. Even in this comparatively new space, there was a kind of reverend silence, a hallowed stillness. He stood motionless in the doorway for a moment, letting the heavy quiet enshroud him. If he closed his eyes, he could almost hear the echoes of his parish choir as they sang for the glory of God. A familiar serenity filled him suddenly, and, for the first time in a long time, he was at peace. He didn't know how long it had been since he had walked from the Institute gates. All he was aware of was wandering the streets of Bayville - neither knowing nor caring where he was heading. His mind was so clouded; the day was nothing but a blur to him. All he could think of was Mystique and the letter. Now he found himself drifting up the aisle, dark gaze fixed ahead. At the end of his pew-lined path, a statue Virgin Mary watched his progress with benevolent plaster eyes. In her cold arms she held the infant Jesus, the baby's tiny hand raised in blessing. Crossing himself, he sat down on a nearby pew. He bowed his head, folding his three-fingered hands on his lap. His lips moved as he recited a quiet prayer, hushed words almost soundless, even in the still silence of the church. "Our Father," he whispered, "Thou art in Heaven. Hallowed be thy name. Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who have trespassed against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the Kingdom, the power and the glory. Forever and Ever. Amen." The prayer ended and Kurt remained motionless - waiting. After a few minutes, it became increasingly apparent to the young mutant that nothing was going to happen. What had he been expecting? Kurt wasn't certain, but something inside him was a little disappointed that his prayer had not been acknowledged in some way.
Opening his eyes, he was suddenly startled to find that he was not alone in the Church. The priest stood in the doorway to the side chapel, dark and solemn in the shadows.
Kurt blushed hot under his fur, though his holographic face remained pale as ever. He cleared his throat awkwardly, looking away. "I-I'm sorry Father, I didn't mean to disturb you. I thought that the Church was empty." Running a hand through his raven hair, he stood hurriedly.
The Priest seemed amused by his discomfort, a small smile flickering on his amiable features. "My dear boy," he chuckled "This is a house of God. Its doors are always open. If anybody should be apologising, it's me. I hadn't meant to draw you from your prayer."
Kurt shrugged. "It wasn't important."
"Oh?" The older man raised his greying eyebrows. "In my experience, teenagers do not come to church in the middle of the afternoon if it is not important." He tilted his head inquiringly "Tell me what troubles you."
The boy's dark eyes remained trained to the ground. He frowned intently at his shoes. "Its kind of a secret," he murmured.
"I understand."
A brief silence passed between them as the Priest watched Kurt closely. The watery yellow light streaming in from the windows caught the falling dust, making it glow like silver snow.
"Perhaps it would help if you talked about what is troubling you?"
The young mutant gave a short laugh. "You got a spare couple of hours?"
"Actually, yes as it happens." The old man smiled and tapped at his dog collar. "One of the perks of the Priesthood. Free housing, great pension scheme and more spare time than you could ever possibly need."
Kurt's pale brow pulled together in a look of uncertainty. He had to talk to someone. So many thoughts whirling around in his head, so many questions --- it was driving his crazy. But could he entrust his secrets with this stranger, even if he was a Priest? Kurt's Catholic upbringing gave him a deep-rooted trust and respect of all men of the cloth, but just how far could he take that trust without putting his friends in danger?
The boy scratched his head and glanced around him. "Could we go in there?" he asked quietly, pointing two joined fingers to the confession box.
The Priest nodded. "If you wish."
Kurt paused. "Anything said in there --- you can't ever talk about it with other people, right?"
He shook his greying head. "I'm bound by sacred oaths. Anything spoken within that box in strictly between you and me," he raised his watery eyes heavenwards "And Him, of course."
The teenager looked to the plaster Virgin Mary. Her blank smile was unmoving, her dead eyes all-seeing. They had had a similar statue back in his hometown. It gave him a strange sense of comfort that the Holy Mother continued to watch him, wherever he might be.
He turned to the Priest, jaw firm and resolute. "Alright then."
"Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It has been almost a year since my last confession."
The shadow behind the screen shifted. "Why so long, my son?"
In the stuffy confines of the confession box, Kurt shrugged - a pointless gesture, as the Priest could not see him. "I don't know. I used to go to Mass every Sunday when I lived in Germany, but now --- " he trailed into silence.
The other man paused for a moment. "Do you say your prayers at home?"
Kurt sighed, ashamed. "No. Not any more."
"Why is that?"
The small room was enshrouded in gloom and the young mutant found his eyes transfixed by the slim horizon of light underneath the closed door. The air was close and musty, like the pages of an old book.
"I share a room with another boy."
The shadow behind the screen moved - a nod of understanding perhaps? "Are you ashamed of your beliefs?"
Kurt blinked. "No."
There was a moment of considering silence. Finally, the Priest spoke again. "There are no secrets before God, my son," he said quietly.
Blushing hot, the boy closed his dark eyes. He bowed his head, heavy strands of hair falling over his face. "They wouldn't understand. My religion," he sought the right words "its --- its very important to me. Its --- private."
"A love for God is nothing to hide in shame. If these people are truly your friends then they will not mock you for your beliefs. "
"But that's the thing, they don't see me as having beliefs." Kurt closed his eyes and rested his head in his hands. "They just see me as this big goof who doesn't take anything seriously."
Behind the screen, the Priest frowned. "And are you?"
"Yes. No. Sometimes I guess." He shook his head in confusion.
The older man seemed to understand his answer, even if Kurt did not. "Believe it or not, I was once young myself, though it was a long time ago." From behind the screen, the boy heard a weary sigh. "Being different can be hard, and there will always be those who do not understand. It can be a long and lonely road for those of us who are not normal. Fear and prejudice are dangerous things. They turn even the most innocent of us into monsters. Don't down that road, my boy. If you have found people who can accept you for what you are, don't try and push them away." There was a pause, and when the Priest continued, his voice had become low and considering. "I made that mistake long ago, and not a day has gone by since when I have not regretted it."
A meditative silence fell over them. In the cool darkness of the confession box, they were isolated from the rest of the Church --- from the rest of the world even. Thoughts came easily in this place of brutal honesty. Kurt's dark eyes lifted Heavenward, searching in vain for something tangible.
"Father?" he murmured, "Can I ask you a question?"
The shadow behind the screen shifted, as if awakening from a heavy sleep. "Of course."
The boy hesitated, guilt making the words catch in his throat. "Is --- is it a sin, to hate someone?"
"To hate is always a sin, you know that."
"But," Kurt frowned, "But what if this person was bad. I mean really really bad. We're talking hyped up uber evil here. Is it still wrong?"
The Priest seemed to dwell on his words for a moment. "Have they ill- treated you in any way?"
The young mutant gave a hard laugh. "Ja, just a bit."
Again, there was a pause for thought. "To hate is a failing, though a very common one. You say this person is bad. Do you know why this is?"
Kurt grimaced. "You mean aside from that fact that she's a psycho?"
"Aside from that."
He frowned, considering the question. Of course he had often wondered why Mystique was the way that she was. But with no knowledge of her past, of who she was --- he had yet to come to any conclusion other than his own personal psychopath theory. "No," he was forced to admit "No I don't know."
"As I expected. You know, it's far easier to judge people, than to try to understand them. Have you yourself ever been judged on the basis of your outer appearance alone?"
Boy, Kurt thought bitterly, have I ever! He was young, but he was no stranger to the uninformed opinions of others.
"Yes."
The shadow seemed satisfied with this answer. "So you see," he continued, "Perhaps it is possible that you are mistaken in your opinions on this person."
Kurt shifted uncomfortably. The old mans words had struck a cord within him somehow. He had so often been on the receiving end of the ignorance of others; it was disconcerting to think that he might have been doing the same. "Kind of like that whole, 'Judge not lest ye be judged' thing, huh?"
"Ah, the boy knows his scripture," there was a horse chuckle from behind the screen, "Yes, that is exactly what I was getting at."
Kurt narrowed his eyes at the ribbon of light by his feet. A deep shadow fell across his face as he lowered his head. "This person, if they sent you a letter saying that they wanted to talk to you --- should you do it?"
The Priests humour faded into solemnity. "Well now, I imagine that would matter on the circumstances of the situation."
"I mean, what if this person had lied to you before, and you weren't sure if you could trust them." he shifted uneasily, clasping his hands. "What then?" He waited expectantly.
The Priest mused silently for a moment. "The Lord does not want for you to endanger yourself in anyway," he started slowly "But on the other hand, if there is a possibility of an offered olive branch, then it is every Christians duty to try to reach out to those in need."
Kurt sighed slowly. "You think that I should go and see her, don't you?"
The shadow moved in a nodding motion. "Yes, my son. I think that you should."
The boy closed his eyes and allowed the darkness to gather around him. He had known in his heart that that was the only real solution to his problem, though he had tried to deny it. He still distrusted Mystique, but what choice did he have? He needed to know the truth.
"However," the Priest continued after a moment, "I do not think that you should go alone."
Kurt raised his head. "What do you mean?"
"Is there anyone who you feel that you can trust to share this information with? Who might understand what you are going through?"
The young mutant frowned and shook his head resolutely. "No, I can't tell anyone about this."
"Why?"
"They would only try and stop me."
The Priest seemed somehow satisfied with the answer, as if he understood. "Perhaps there is a special friend amongst them? Someone different --- like yourself?"
Kurt ran a hand through his hair, letting the raven strands flop back over his forehead. He paused thoughtfully. "Well," he lowered his voice considerately "There's Rogue I guess."
Although he could not see it, a knowing smile played on the older mans mouth.
"Do you trust this person with your secrets?"
The boy paused in thought. "Ja. I trust her."
"She must be very close to you."
Kurt blushed hot under his fur. "I guess. She's a good friend, and she's helped me through a lot of stuff in the past."
"You sound as if you care about her a great deal."
He nodded. "I think she's understand."
The Priest rested his chin in his hand. "Then you must talk about this with her. Perhaps she will consent to accompanying you when you meet with this other person."
Kurt's dark eyebrows pulled together. "Do you think that that is what I should do?"
"I am not here to tell you the path you should walk - I can only advise based on my own experience. But it seems to me as though you have been given a rare opportunity here. If I were in your position, I would not dismiss it readily. Trust in the Lord, and he shall guide you."
It was a cryptic response, but one that Kurt had been expecting. He sighed and rose to his feet, resolution clouding his dark eyes.
"Thank you Father. I think I know what to do now."
The shadow behind the screen nodded. "I only wish that I had better advice for you-"
"No," Kurt interjected "no, this has helped me a lot. Thanks."
There was a pause. "You're welcome."
The young mutant waited for a moment, but the Priest seemed to have finished. He took a step forward and placed his fingers on the cool metal handle.
"Son?"
Kurt glanced quickly to the screen. "Yes Father?"
The older man was silent. Finally, he sighed wearily, leaning his head back against the hard wooden wall. "Good luck, whatever happens. And don't neglect your Religion. I expect to start seeing you at Mass on a Sunday."
He gave a small smile. "Perhaps."
He blinked thoughtfully, and walked out into the light.
The Priest waited, silent and motionless in the cool dark. Finally, the sound of the boy's footsteps faded to nothing, and the church door closed with a final, resounding thud. He waited a moment further, then rose from his seat, standing tall. His watery eyes closed briefly as he lowered his head.
A subtle wave seemed to pass over the old man's body. His aged frame stretched and elongated, skin darkening to an unnatural azure. The greying hair lengthened, melting into flaming scarlet, burning bright against the gloom.
The change was swift, lasting for only a matter of seconds. She remained unmoving in the darkness for a moment, chest rising in a deep breath. Her pale eyes snapped open and a dark smirk curved her lips.
Mystique.
Everything was going as planned. Kurt had responded as she had known that he would. It almost surprised her how easily she had been able to manipulate him. Rogue would be harder to ensnare, but everybody had a weakness. Rogue would follow Kurt anywhere; Mystique had no doubt about that.
With one swift move, she would bring her children home.
All she had to do now was to sit back and wait for them to come to her.