Comforted Souls
A HogCo Studios Short
Author's Note: It's 11:35 at night, it's Saturday (October 04, soon to be 05), and I'm here making a post-Impact Kurt/Wanda on a whim. Hey, when inspiration strikes… Now for the bonuses. If you can tell me the song Kurt sings, and the artist who sung it originally(!!!), where the church the main part of the fic takes place in is from or the major exports of Puerto Rico, you get the choice of an O.C. or favorite character cameo in my upcoming fic, Exiles: Evolution, a preview of the first three chapters of said fic, or a Mystery Gift. Now, to the fic…
Disclaimer: "Little Red Riding Hood… you sure are looking good. You're everytha-a-a-ang a big bad wo-olf could want. Owwwwwww! I mean baa. Baa. Baa?"
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"Have you read the paper yet, honey?" asked Wanda Wagner as she came into the kitchen she shared with her husband in their house near the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning.
"Nein, liebe," Kurt grinned as his wife walked in, and gave her a light kiss on the cheek, "Vhy?" Wanda looked down when she answered him.
"They're tearing down Saint Michael's, Kurt. They've been saying it for years and now they're finally doing it. At 1:30 sharp tomorrow, it'll just be a pile of rubble and memories. I-I just can't believe it." Tears filled the eyes of a woman who had been changed through her husband's love from the bitter Goth she was when they first met. Kurt pulled his chair next to hers and wrapped his arms around her. She leaned into him when he stroked her hair, and let the tears fall.
"I just can't believe it, Kurt. I just can't."
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Twelve years earlier…
The rain fell like pearls on the leaves of the flowers, leaving brown muddy clay where the earth had been dry. Don McLean used those words to describe the scene of a trench where a young soldier met his death in his song "The Grave". They also described the night of October 4, a Wednesday in Bayville, New York. Overlooking the 'quiet' little town, on a hill known as Dead Man's Bluff for the old cemetery where no one had been interred since 1885, sat the Church of Saint Michael. The stone parapets were crumbling, and the roof had some holes caused by erosion and punk kids, but it was a sturdy little three story place of worship, and no one came by. At least, that was the reasoning of Kurt Wagner, known to an exclusive few as Nightcrawler. One of the stone gargoyles was missing, stolen for an art collection no doubt, and it was there the three-toed, two-fingered, yellow-eyed blue fuzzy mutant perched, his prehensile tail swinging behind him. He felt oddly at peace here in the spot of a creature he despised to be referred to as.
"I've seen fire und I've seen rain- I vonder how she's doing in Scotland- I hear haggis is nice- I vonder if Sam raised any sheep- Little Red Riding Hood; you sure are looking good- this rain is getting all mein fur vet- 'Neath the halo of a streetlamp, I tuned my collar to the cold and damp- I should have brought mein cloak- Hello darkness my old friend… I've come to talk vith you again- Vow, two excerpts from vone song, crazy…" He said all of this in the span of fourteen seconds. He dabbed a solitary droplet from his eye, one that wasn't rain.
"Vhy? It vasn't like she vas a good parent, but she vas mein mother! She needed me und you let her fall! She vas your mother too! You turn your back on everyone who loved you because you can't see past her lying about who she vas, vhen she vas trying to be your friend! I hate you! I hate having to see you day after day, not affected by vaht you did to her! Sometimes I vish you'd leave, and then I think that it should be me who leaves, back vhere I belong, with mein real family!" His shouts echoed across the town, but it was too far away for anyone to hear. Another voice rose up after him, also oblivious to their grieving counterpart.
"Who were you? I can't tell if these are mine or someone else's nightmares, if these happy memories are those of someone else. You kidnapped me; at least I think you did. You had one of your cronies do something to me, or is that just delusion? Nothing is real; nothing is false. Everything was taken when there was nothing to take. Now you're gone, and there's the dull thud of sadness, yet the sharp floating of glee. Am I sad for my father, or am I sad that Apocalypse got you first? I-I just can't believe it. I just can't…" Kurt Wagner walked slowly down the wooden stairs to the broken confessional booth of the abandoned house of God. Inside was Wanda Maximoff, sister of Quicksilver, daughter of Magneto, and the last person anyone would think could cry for any reason. He walked silently behind her and tentatively raised a hand. He laid it on her shoulder with resolve, and she didn't flinch at the fur on her bare arm.
"Vanda? Are you going to be okay?"
"I-If you don't t-tell me what you're d-doing here at 12:25 at night, on a S-S-Sunday, I'll hurt you, I s-swear t-to God," she choked out through her sobs.
"Mourning. Just like you." He sat down next to her. His arm and tail wrapped around her slim waist and pulled her to him, his free hand stroking her short black hair. "It's okay, liebe; it's going to be okay. Maybe not for a vhile, but vone day you'll move on."
"But I can't! He's gone and I don't know how I feel about it and I don't know if I loved him or what the last words I said to him were!"
"Shh, shh, liebe, it's alright. Your father, he… he vasn't the best person in the vorld. Neither vas mein mother. But I am hurt nonetheless by her loss. He loved you, Vanda, no one who knows you at least somevhat vouldn't. For all his faults, he vas your father. And if I can mourn for Mystique, you can for Magneto."
"God it hurts, Kurt. It hurts so much." That was the first time she had ever used his name, and it brought a smile to his face.
"Ja, liebe, I know. But ve have each other. Und ve have this church. And all anyone needs is comfort." In a soothing voice, he began to sing.
"Sunny… Yesterday my life vas filed vith rain.
Sunny… You smiled at me and really eased the pain,
Now the dark days are done, and the bright days are here;
My sunny vone shines so sin-cere,
Sunny, vone so true, I love you.
Sunny... Thank you for the sunshine, you gave
Sunny… Thank you for the love you brought my vay
You gave to me, your all and all,
And now I feel, ten feet tall,
Sunny, vone so true, I love you
Sunny… Thank you for the truth you've let me see
Sunny… Thank you for the thanks, from A to Z
My life vas torn like vindblown sand
Then a rock vas formed vhen ve held hands,
Sunny one so true, I love you
Sunny… Thank you for that smile, upon your face,
Sunny… Thank you for that gleam that flows with grace
You're my spark of nature's fire,
You're my sweet complete desire,
Sunny one so true, yes, I love you
Sunny… Yesterday my life vas filed vith rain.
Sunny… You smiled at me and really eased the pain,
Now the dark days are done, and the bright days are here;
My sunny vone shines so sin-cere,
Sunny, vone so true, I love you.
I love you…
I love you…
Yeah, I love you…" At that moment, the rain stopped. At that moment too, Kurt Wagner realized he was falling in love with one of his mortal enemies, the Scarlet Witch. Just as she was falling in love with him.
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Present… October 5, a Thursday. 1:29.
Kurt Wagner stood with his wife Wanda on the hill where the Church of Saint Michael stood. There were only a few people there, a few nuns and an old reverend, but they were the strangest by far. Kurt had been widely accepted in England when he was a member of Excalibur, just shortly after his marriage, thusly he wasn't wearing his image inducer, and didn't have one at all at his house, save one in a lockbox underneath a loose floorboard in their bedroom. Very quietly, Wanda broke the silence.
"Thank you for the sunshine you gave. Thank you for the love you sent my way." Kurt grasped her hand in his, and they held each other as the site where they first connected, and had minor work done to when they got married in it, fell down in front of them.
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Nine months later… November 19, figure out the weekday on your own. 1:30 pm.
"Push! Good job, Mrs. Wagner, keep it up. And push… Come on, you've almost got it! It's out! It's a girl!" Little Talia Josephine's cries were like music to her mother and father's ears as she was wrapped in a blanket and placed in her mother's arms.
"She looks like you, minus the tail. Ow, Jesus, why does it still hurt so bad?" The doctor, who looked like Will Bailey from "The West Wing" (played by Joshua Malina), rose up sharply.
"Remember that sonogram you refused to have?"
"Yeah?"
"There were twins on it."
"Argh! Now you tell me!"
"Honey, calm down-"
"You try being calm pushing something the size of a small watermelon out of an opening the size of a small orange!"
"Now I think I could have done vithout the fruit analogies." A short time later, the second child was born, a boy. He looked more like his mother, but with the feet, hands, and pointed ears of his father. Also unique were his Fremen eyes, a deeper blue than his mothers, almost indigo.
"He's beautiful. Vas are ve going to call him?" A weary ex-Scarlet Witch looked at the man she chose to spend her life with.
"Michael. Michael Joseph Wagner."
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End Note: A collective "Aww!" is coming, I know it. Come on, get it out. Yeah, like anyone's going to read this. Well, I thought it was good, a lot better than most of my late-night works have been. Short, sweet, and inspired by something I ate. Probably the chicken. The song fits in because it's romance-y, and it went with the comfort and growing love theme. I liked it. Well, night everybody, it's 1:10 here in good 'ol Fort Worth, Texas. This is the Hog of Hedges, signing off.
~The Hog of Hedges