Of Hearth and Home
Chapter Nine: Who Are You?
It was roughly an hour after Kurt first settled himself near Derek and the Lake that Beast's news reached them; Xavier was awake and coherent again. And he wanted to speak to 'his guest'.
Kurt could feel the weight of Derek's heavy heart as they trudged across the cold earth of the back property.
Kurt noticed the other students as they passed. Some looked sympathetic – as though they could understand how they would feel if they had hurt Xavier by accident when they first came here. But these expressions were few among a sea of faces. Most fell in to one of two categories – Angry, or Uneasy.
The realization came to his mind that he had only seen three other X-Men spend any time at all with his new friend. They just don't know him yet. Kurt told himself. They'll see.
Derek's mood didn't break until the last door swung open to reveal Xavier's smiling face.
The relief was obvious as his steps became lighter, his trademark smile reappeared and grew in to a grin, and he seemed to grow by several inches as he crossed the room with a terrific enthusiasm.
"Lovely to see you again." (1) Derek breathed, taking Xavier's hand and pumping it.
Xavier smiled, almost embarrassed at the affection.
"Kurt, would you excuse us?" Xavier asked. "We are long overdue on our Nine AM meeting."
And Kurt grinned, seeing now that it would all be okay, he slipped out with a silent wave to Beast who was sitting quietly and thoughtfully in the corner of the room.
As the door eased closed Derek laughed like he never had a care in the world. Kurt watched him through the diminishing entryway. Kurt stopped closing the door and stood in awe. He was sure. He had seen this man before, a long time ago. But something wasn't quite right.
He held up his hand, to cover the man's beard at a distance. Then he held out his thumb to cover his hair.
And it hit him!
He dropped his hands in shock and then absently covered his gaping mouth with his right hand.
Kurt closed the door carefully and quietly, then teleported up to his room.
Very slowly, Kurt opened his bag. It was everything he had brought with him to the Xavier Institute. The robe the monks had given him, his clothes from his life before, mostly tailored by his adopted mother to include either holes or room for a tail. And then, in the bottom of the bag, he found them.
His tapes.
How many days, weeks, or months had he spent burying himself in his headphones when outside contact was impossible? He couldn't say. But his music had been one of many over-indulgences that had become lifelines when he needed them.
Most of his music was American in origin, as it had been trendy and fashionable in Germany while he was growing up.
And then he found it.
The Band was called Sabbath Night. The name of the album was Rhythm's Slave. And on the inside, when you unfolded the lyrics, was a concert shot of the band. Four men on a stage, in the throws of the music, surrounded by the smoke, sparks and flame of a monster stage show.
And there, a drumstick in each hand, clean-shaven and longhaired, was the unmistakably blue eyes of Calvin Carlyle.
"Right." Kurt whispered, remembering the story. "He disappeared."
Kurt absently placed one of his thick fingers to his lip as he stared at the worn out photo.
They all talked about it. It was in all the papers. He vanished onstage at a concert in front of everyone.
That much he was sure of.
"And no one has seen him since." He whispered out loud.
Wasn't there something about an electrical fire, or a fireworks display that went wrong?
His mind wavered. He had been interested at the time, but the details were hard to come by back in the day.
"Calvin." Kurt whispered it out loud just to hear the name. Then he turned slowly with a maddening precision toward the desktop computer on his desk.
"Calvin Carlyle, meet my curiosity." He grinned to himself. "Curiosity, meet Calvin Carlyle."
Two hours later, Kurt drifted off to sleep at his desk, his head resting on his notebook which was now full of scribbled notes about the mysterious disappearance of Calvin Carlyle.
At the same moment, downstairs, Beast and Xavier were enjoying a private conversation after having finished their meeting with 'Calvin'.
"You see." Xavier began. "I see most minds as something akin to spider-webs. Some are large and intricate, others simple yet effective, but they are always vast and wide enough that I may drift through without harming the threads or the design."
"Yes…" Hank spoke slowly and imagined himself flying effortlessly over the web of a life.
Xavier agreed. "And when I tried to contact him telepathically …"
"I wouldn't advise that again Charles. As your doctor" Hank nodded, concerned.
"Trust me, I wont." Xavier agreed. "It was quite … alien. To me at any rate."
Xavier shook off the feeling of the strange mans mind. "But his mind, it wasn't webbed at all. It was thick, like a heavy rope. All the strands touching and running together."
"No where to move." Beast observed.
"I slammed in to the surface and lost myself in it's complexity." Xavier nodded solemnly. "It was frightening. But, as a consolation, I do believe I understand his ability now."
"It's balance and agility, isn't it?" Beast asked. "When Logan attacked …"
"On the surface perhaps. But I believe that his real ability is pattern recognition." Xavier smiled slyly.
"Pattern recognition?" Beast asked. "Are you sure?"
"Quite." Xavier finally relaxed. "That's why his mind was so thick. Most people have webs – single strands that stand at angles to the others. He had filled in the area's between his memories with the recognition of the patterns that connect them."
Hank nodded and shifted in the chair across Xavier's desk.
"I still cant be sure." Xavier explained. "But if I had to make a guess, I'd say that his mutation rewired his brain in a completely foreign manner. The fact that he can relate to and understand the people around him at all is incredible."
Beast exhaled slowly. "While he's ready to do just that. We asked why he was here and he gave me a blood sample that answered our question. He and Kurt chat about anything the wish and I saw him teaching Multiple how to play the piano yesterday." Beast smiled a weary smile. "Personally, I think he's just given up on trying to explain things until it's absolutely necessary."
Xavier stopped short. "I hadn't thought of that." He admitted with a little grin. "It puts most of his … unique traits in to perspective."
"He lives an unexplained life Charles. He only answers to himself." Beast sat back quietly. "I wonder what a life like that might be like."
"No appointments." Xavier smiled.
"No breaking bad news." Beast added.
"No lies. Not even the little white ones like saying you're 'fine' when you're really upset." Xavier countered.
"No way to say how much you love someone?" Beast questioned. "Or even to defend yourself verbally?" He added.
Both men scowled just a touch. Recriminations were common place in a world of mutants and men. To imagine anyone left without a voice to raise in their own defense …
Hank shook off the uncomfortable thought. Surely, there must be something we can do for him …
But he couldn't imagine what.
"Do you think we can get him to try some danger room sessions?" Xavier's eyes seemed to twinkle. "I'd love to see … What he can do." He finished after a pause.
"I can't imagine the number of danger room sessions it would take to get an accurate assessment of his abilities." Hank replied. "He's bound to recognize the firing and attack patterns in short order if that's his gift."
Xavier nodded. "Let's ask him" He decided. "If he'll do it first, and how we should proceed second."
"I doubt anyone's written a song to answer that musical question Charles." Beast smiled another relieved smile.
"Maybe not." Xavier replied. "Or maybe we've just never heard it before."
1) Moody Blues – Lovely To See You (Again, my friend)