Ok, sorry for the long as hell wait. I have discovered the chat room at
Nightscrawlers, and it has taken up the time I usually spend writing. But
it's currently down, which gave me my spare time back! Hooray! I am
realizing that my excuse is about the lamest ever, so I apologize again.
And in apology, I'm going to respond to each and every review:
Sashi: ;) Danke my dear.
Makura Koneko: Thanks! It will be coming, eventually. I wanna deal with a bit more before they actually meet, though.
C.Street: I'm glad you like! And to answer your question (well, this chappie may answer it, but I shall answer as well) Kurt's name was given to him by his adoptive parents, not biological parents. Same goes with in the comics. I have chosen against the whole Margali thing here, but I think that Evo ignores the Margali thing as well. Ahh, alternate universes.....
Kiki: Awww, I love your reviews! Thanks so much! I really love the sibling angle when it comes to Kurt and Rogue, and I feel like it isn't dealt with enough. I like to write it in where it fits...
Crow Black Dream: Thanks! I hope you like the rest!
^v^ BATS ^v^: I'll take a Kurt!
Key: Yeah, Kurt's having a tough time. It's like, he spent so much time wondering about his parents, now he knows and new, more painful questions arise. Poor Kurt...
golden slumbers: Here's some more for ya!
digidestined02: Thanks!!! Keep reading!
BTW: I don't know if they had/have GI Joes in Germany, being as though the're kinda based on the US Army, but for the sake of this fic (or at least this chapter) they do.
Disclaimer: "People ask me, do you shoot to maim? Do you shoot to kill? Now, see, I think they're missin the point. Point is, I get to shoot somebody"
~&~
Kurti Wagner stared at his plate in front of him. Broccoli. Again. Why did Mama always try to make him eat broccoli? She knew he hated it. He lifted a finger and pushed a piece of the accursed vegetable through the gravy. Yech.
"Kurti! Don't play with your food!" Mama scolded. She picked up his fork and placed it in his hand. "Now eat up your broccoli, it's good for you."
Kurti sat back in his chair with his arms folded. "No, I don't wanna."
"Kurt, liebschen," Mama tried, putting her hand to her forehead. This had become a nightly practice at their table. Getting an idea, she pierced a piece of the broccoli and zipped it around in front of him. "Look, it's not broccoli, it's an airplane! Now open the hanger!"
"NO! It's broccoli, and I hate it!" Kurti argued, slinking lower in his chair. His gold eyes set firmly on his mother, who dropped the fork, exasperated.
"Well, that is not a nice thing to say, Kurti," Papa piped in. "The broccoli doesn't hate you. I think you hurt it's feelings."
"I don't care, it's yucky," Kurti replied.
"But the broccoli wants to help you. If you eat the broccoli, you can grow up to be a big strong man, like your Papa," Papa tried.
Kurti thought about this for a second. Finally, much to his parents relief, the boy picked up his fork and stabbed a piece of broccoli. Staring at it for a second, he shoved it into his mouth, making a face as he chewed.
"Now, there's a good boy!" Papa commended, as he returned to his own meal.
~&~
After dinner was through, Kurti settled himself down in the living room with his action figures while Mama and Papa cleaned up. He began to set up his GI Joes for their invasion of the bookcase, when his parents made their way in to the room and clicked on the TV.
Kurti played quietly as his parents watched their shows. He glanced back and forth between his toys and his parents. His eyes began to feel a bit heavy, so he grabbed up his favorite of his collection, and clambered up into his Mama's lap.
"Joining us, then?" She asked, planting a kiss on his head.
He nodded sleepily, curling up in her arms. He half watched what they were watching, but he really didn't understand these grownup shows. His eyes drifted from the TV to his Papa, who was obviously engrossed in the show. Then he stared up at his Mama, who was also watching, as she stroked his hair. His tail curled up around her wrist and she smiled down at him. "Are you getting tired, mien liebe?"
Kurti shook his head as he yawned. He didn't want to go to bed yet, it was still light outside! But his actions betrayed him.
"Ok, you can stay up a little longer," Mama told him, giving him another kiss on the forehead.
Kurti turned his head away from his Mama and back to the TV, staring at the moving images. There was a woman, and she was yelling at a man. Kurti yawned again and brought his fuzzy fists to rub his sleepy eyes. As he withdrew his hands, he stared at them a bit. They were so different from Mama and Papa's hands. And from the mand and lady on TV's hands. In fact, Kurti didn't think he knew anyone who had hands like him. Or feet like his. Or a tail. Except his puppy, of course, but he was a dog. Kurti was a person. Kurti reached out and examined his tail. The blue fuzz running up to the spaded tip. Kurti had never really realized before how different he really was.
The boy sat up quickly, receiving a concerned look from his Mama. "What's wrong, liebschen?"
Kurti looked from his Mama to his Papa, both staring back at him. He looked back down at him self, feeling his fur, and grasping his pointy ears. Then he reached forward and touched his Mama's face, feeling around her ears, down to her slender fingers. Mama even felt different from him.
"What is it, Kurti?" Papa asked, as Kurti felt around his wife. "Are you feeling ok?"
Kurti settled back down in Mama's lap, watching his father. Again, he looked back and forth between his parents, and finally opened his mouth. "Why am I different?"
His parents looked at each other, a bit taken aback by the question. They had assumed the day would come when Kurti would ask, but had never known how to really counter the question.
"What do you mean, mien schatz?" Papa asked.
Kurti sighed. "Why do I look different from you and Mama?"
Mama looked at Papa. How would they tell him? What could they say? Kurti was only three years old, would he understand? "Well, liebschen, that is because we adopted you."
"What does that mean?" Kurti asked, staring at his Mama and Papa with an inquisitive gaze.
Mama was at a loss for words, so Papa took over. "Sometimes, Kurti, a man and a woman have a baby that they cannot keep. So they have to find someone who will love and care for their baby for them."
"Oh," Kurti turned this over in his young mind for a second. "Does that mean you're not my parents?"
Mama and Papa paused. "Well," Mama began. "Well, it means that we did not have you as our baby, liebschen." She cuddled him tighter to her and gave him a kiss. "But we love you, Kurti. And that's what matters."
"That's right," Papa agreed. "We love you more than anything else in the world Kurti. And we may not be your parents, but we are your Mama and Papa."
Kurti settled into his parents hug. While he felt very loved by both of them, his mind began to wander to his real parents. Who were they? And why couldn't they take care of him? Did they look like him too? Or were they just like everyone else?
He pulled out of his parents hug, and looked at them again. He knew Mama and Papa loved him, and he loved them too. He reached around they're necks and gave each of them a kiss on the cheek. Mama and Papa smiled at him and he curled up in their laps again, drifting off to sleep.
~&~
Kurti awoke in his bed, tucked in tight the way he liked it. It was dark outside, and he untucked himself and gazed out the window. He wasn't allowed outside most times, unless he and his parent's were traveling with the circus. Right now, they were in the off season, staying in a rented house just outside of Winzeldorf.
"Kurti, what are you doing up?" Mama asked, walking into the room.
Kurti just shrugged and lay back against his pillow. His Mama commenced in tucking him in when he asked. "Why didn't my parents want me?"
Mama stopped, and looked him in the face. "Oh, liebe. They wanted you. I'm sure they wanted you. But they couldn't take care of you."
"Why?" Kurti asked, cuddling up to his well worn teddy.
"I don't know why, schatz. We found you," Mama replied. "But none of that matters right now, mien kind. You need to get some sleep."
"Are my real parents different?" Kurti asked.
"I don't know, Kurti," Mama replied. "But enough questions for tonight. It's way past your bedtime. I promise though, mien schon kind, we will talk about this more."
Kurti yawned. "Ok, Mama."
Mama leaned down and kissed him on the forehead. "Goodnight mien schatz. I will see you in the morning."
~&~
Kurt lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling. They hadn't ever talked
about his real parent's
again. As he grew older, he had tried to bring it up, but his parent's
claimed to know
nothing more than what they had already told him. But, somewhere in
the back of his
head, he didn't believe them. They had to know more, there had to be
more to all of this.
But he never questioned any of it. He just accepted what his parent's
had told him and
dropped the subject. Not anymore, though. Summer vacation was coming,
and he would
be going home. He wasn;t sure about sharing his findings with his Mama
and Papa yet,
but he knew he had to do something. Kurt turned over again, staring at
the picture next to
his bed. The happy Count, holding his pregnant wife. To Kurt, this was
the most
depressing of all of the pictures he'd seen. They were so happy, but
their happiness was
obviously short lived. At the same time, it was the one he enjoyed
looking at the most.
Because the Count, his father, loved him in this picture. He didn't
know him yet, didn't
even know Kurt was a "him" yet, but he loved him. Kurt could feel the
usual tears
pricking at his eyes, so he turned off his light and turned away from
the picture. Things
were changing, his life was shifting. He was terrified of the ways it
could possibly go.
~&~
Ok, you know the drill. There's a little button below here that says
"Submit Review", this
is a critical button. Use it!!! Hehe, see ya in the next chappie!
Sashi: ;) Danke my dear.
Makura Koneko: Thanks! It will be coming, eventually. I wanna deal with a bit more before they actually meet, though.
C.Street: I'm glad you like! And to answer your question (well, this chappie may answer it, but I shall answer as well) Kurt's name was given to him by his adoptive parents, not biological parents. Same goes with in the comics. I have chosen against the whole Margali thing here, but I think that Evo ignores the Margali thing as well. Ahh, alternate universes.....
Kiki: Awww, I love your reviews! Thanks so much! I really love the sibling angle when it comes to Kurt and Rogue, and I feel like it isn't dealt with enough. I like to write it in where it fits...
Crow Black Dream: Thanks! I hope you like the rest!
^v^ BATS ^v^: I'll take a Kurt!
Key: Yeah, Kurt's having a tough time. It's like, he spent so much time wondering about his parents, now he knows and new, more painful questions arise. Poor Kurt...
golden slumbers: Here's some more for ya!
digidestined02: Thanks!!! Keep reading!
BTW: I don't know if they had/have GI Joes in Germany, being as though the're kinda based on the US Army, but for the sake of this fic (or at least this chapter) they do.
Disclaimer: "People ask me, do you shoot to maim? Do you shoot to kill? Now, see, I think they're missin the point. Point is, I get to shoot somebody"
~&~
Kurti Wagner stared at his plate in front of him. Broccoli. Again. Why did Mama always try to make him eat broccoli? She knew he hated it. He lifted a finger and pushed a piece of the accursed vegetable through the gravy. Yech.
"Kurti! Don't play with your food!" Mama scolded. She picked up his fork and placed it in his hand. "Now eat up your broccoli, it's good for you."
Kurti sat back in his chair with his arms folded. "No, I don't wanna."
"Kurt, liebschen," Mama tried, putting her hand to her forehead. This had become a nightly practice at their table. Getting an idea, she pierced a piece of the broccoli and zipped it around in front of him. "Look, it's not broccoli, it's an airplane! Now open the hanger!"
"NO! It's broccoli, and I hate it!" Kurti argued, slinking lower in his chair. His gold eyes set firmly on his mother, who dropped the fork, exasperated.
"Well, that is not a nice thing to say, Kurti," Papa piped in. "The broccoli doesn't hate you. I think you hurt it's feelings."
"I don't care, it's yucky," Kurti replied.
"But the broccoli wants to help you. If you eat the broccoli, you can grow up to be a big strong man, like your Papa," Papa tried.
Kurti thought about this for a second. Finally, much to his parents relief, the boy picked up his fork and stabbed a piece of broccoli. Staring at it for a second, he shoved it into his mouth, making a face as he chewed.
"Now, there's a good boy!" Papa commended, as he returned to his own meal.
~&~
After dinner was through, Kurti settled himself down in the living room with his action figures while Mama and Papa cleaned up. He began to set up his GI Joes for their invasion of the bookcase, when his parents made their way in to the room and clicked on the TV.
Kurti played quietly as his parents watched their shows. He glanced back and forth between his toys and his parents. His eyes began to feel a bit heavy, so he grabbed up his favorite of his collection, and clambered up into his Mama's lap.
"Joining us, then?" She asked, planting a kiss on his head.
He nodded sleepily, curling up in her arms. He half watched what they were watching, but he really didn't understand these grownup shows. His eyes drifted from the TV to his Papa, who was obviously engrossed in the show. Then he stared up at his Mama, who was also watching, as she stroked his hair. His tail curled up around her wrist and she smiled down at him. "Are you getting tired, mien liebe?"
Kurti shook his head as he yawned. He didn't want to go to bed yet, it was still light outside! But his actions betrayed him.
"Ok, you can stay up a little longer," Mama told him, giving him another kiss on the forehead.
Kurti turned his head away from his Mama and back to the TV, staring at the moving images. There was a woman, and she was yelling at a man. Kurti yawned again and brought his fuzzy fists to rub his sleepy eyes. As he withdrew his hands, he stared at them a bit. They were so different from Mama and Papa's hands. And from the mand and lady on TV's hands. In fact, Kurti didn't think he knew anyone who had hands like him. Or feet like his. Or a tail. Except his puppy, of course, but he was a dog. Kurti was a person. Kurti reached out and examined his tail. The blue fuzz running up to the spaded tip. Kurti had never really realized before how different he really was.
The boy sat up quickly, receiving a concerned look from his Mama. "What's wrong, liebschen?"
Kurti looked from his Mama to his Papa, both staring back at him. He looked back down at him self, feeling his fur, and grasping his pointy ears. Then he reached forward and touched his Mama's face, feeling around her ears, down to her slender fingers. Mama even felt different from him.
"What is it, Kurti?" Papa asked, as Kurti felt around his wife. "Are you feeling ok?"
Kurti settled back down in Mama's lap, watching his father. Again, he looked back and forth between his parents, and finally opened his mouth. "Why am I different?"
His parents looked at each other, a bit taken aback by the question. They had assumed the day would come when Kurti would ask, but had never known how to really counter the question.
"What do you mean, mien schatz?" Papa asked.
Kurti sighed. "Why do I look different from you and Mama?"
Mama looked at Papa. How would they tell him? What could they say? Kurti was only three years old, would he understand? "Well, liebschen, that is because we adopted you."
"What does that mean?" Kurti asked, staring at his Mama and Papa with an inquisitive gaze.
Mama was at a loss for words, so Papa took over. "Sometimes, Kurti, a man and a woman have a baby that they cannot keep. So they have to find someone who will love and care for their baby for them."
"Oh," Kurti turned this over in his young mind for a second. "Does that mean you're not my parents?"
Mama and Papa paused. "Well," Mama began. "Well, it means that we did not have you as our baby, liebschen." She cuddled him tighter to her and gave him a kiss. "But we love you, Kurti. And that's what matters."
"That's right," Papa agreed. "We love you more than anything else in the world Kurti. And we may not be your parents, but we are your Mama and Papa."
Kurti settled into his parents hug. While he felt very loved by both of them, his mind began to wander to his real parents. Who were they? And why couldn't they take care of him? Did they look like him too? Or were they just like everyone else?
He pulled out of his parents hug, and looked at them again. He knew Mama and Papa loved him, and he loved them too. He reached around they're necks and gave each of them a kiss on the cheek. Mama and Papa smiled at him and he curled up in their laps again, drifting off to sleep.
~&~
Kurti awoke in his bed, tucked in tight the way he liked it. It was dark outside, and he untucked himself and gazed out the window. He wasn't allowed outside most times, unless he and his parent's were traveling with the circus. Right now, they were in the off season, staying in a rented house just outside of Winzeldorf.
"Kurti, what are you doing up?" Mama asked, walking into the room.
Kurti just shrugged and lay back against his pillow. His Mama commenced in tucking him in when he asked. "Why didn't my parents want me?"
Mama stopped, and looked him in the face. "Oh, liebe. They wanted you. I'm sure they wanted you. But they couldn't take care of you."
"Why?" Kurti asked, cuddling up to his well worn teddy.
"I don't know why, schatz. We found you," Mama replied. "But none of that matters right now, mien kind. You need to get some sleep."
"Are my real parents different?" Kurti asked.
"I don't know, Kurti," Mama replied. "But enough questions for tonight. It's way past your bedtime. I promise though, mien schon kind, we will talk about this more."
Kurti yawned. "Ok, Mama."
Mama leaned down and kissed him on the forehead. "Goodnight mien schatz. I will see you in the morning."
~&~
Kurt lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling. They hadn't ever talked
about his real parent's
again. As he grew older, he had tried to bring it up, but his parent's
claimed to know
nothing more than what they had already told him. But, somewhere in
the back of his
head, he didn't believe them. They had to know more, there had to be
more to all of this.
But he never questioned any of it. He just accepted what his parent's
had told him and
dropped the subject. Not anymore, though. Summer vacation was coming,
and he would
be going home. He wasn;t sure about sharing his findings with his Mama
and Papa yet,
but he knew he had to do something. Kurt turned over again, staring at
the picture next to
his bed. The happy Count, holding his pregnant wife. To Kurt, this was
the most
depressing of all of the pictures he'd seen. They were so happy, but
their happiness was
obviously short lived. At the same time, it was the one he enjoyed
looking at the most.
Because the Count, his father, loved him in this picture. He didn't
know him yet, didn't
even know Kurt was a "him" yet, but he loved him. Kurt could feel the
usual tears
pricking at his eyes, so he turned off his light and turned away from
the picture. Things
were changing, his life was shifting. He was terrified of the ways it
could possibly go.
~&~
Ok, you know the drill. There's a little button below here that says
"Submit Review", this
is a critical button. Use it!!! Hehe, see ya in the next chappie!