Chapter Three

Kitty hiked up the long driveway to the Institute, surprised to see a strange man with short, sandy hair standing on the grass looking up at the mansion with his hands in the pockets of his long coat. This man wore a thick sweater even though it was an unusually warm March afternoon. Curious, and with more than a little trepidation, Kitty walked up to him, prepared to phase if the stranger proved to be dangerous.

"Hi, there," she said.

The man jumped, surprised, and turned to her. He had a pleasant face, long and narrow, with large, gray eyes. He smiled when he saw her.

"Guten Tag, Fräulein," the man said in German, his low tenor voice as gentle and pleasant as his face. "Are you a student here?"

"Um, yeah. Well, uh, sort of," she said, eyeing him suspiciously. His accent was faint, and sounded almost more British than German. "I actually go to school at Bayville High, about a mile or so down the road. I just kind of, like, live here at the Institute."

"Strange," he said, returning his gaze to the mansion.

"What is?" Kitty asked.

The man shook his head, his bright eyes crinkled with disbelief.

"All of this," he said, encompassing the Institute and its grounds with a pale hand. "It all looks just as it did twenty years ago! I can't understand it. Or rather, I have a theory but it's too impossible to be credible. There must be another explanation."

He stepped closer to her, fixing her with an intense, searching stare that made her want to squirm.

"Bitte, Mädchen, may I ask your name?"

"Hey, you first," she snapped back. "This is private property, mister. Who are you and what are you doing here?"

The man took a step back, surprised by her hostility.

"Why, I—"

Something about the oddly graceful way he moved triggered a flash in Kitty's mind. Her eyes narrowed and her lips grew tight.

"Hey, wait a minute!" she cried. "That's you, isn't it!"

She stated more than asked the question, advancing on the confused German in annoyance.

"What kind of dumb game are you playing, Kurt?" she demanded. "You know the Professor said that image inducer isn't a toy. And, what's with that stupid deep voice, anyway? Are you, like, getting a cold?" She snorted. "Don't tell me this is your way of backing out of the dance tonight!"

"Dance?"

The man's gray eyes widened and his mouth dropped open.

"Kätzchen!" he gasped, his hands starting to tremble as he backed slowly away from her. His long, narrow fingers divided at the middle in a manner reminiscent of the Vulcan salute.

"Nein! Bitte, Gott, this cannot be possible. The consequences...if I even crush a plant while I'm here...meine Kinder!"

"'Kinder'?" Kitty repeated in confusion. "Kurt, what are you—?"

But, he vanished in a BAMF of sulfur-scented smoke, leaving the rather frightened Kitty to call out across the grounds: "Kurt? Kurt! Where did you go? KURT!"

"What's up, Half-Pint?" a gruff voice asked from behind her. Kitty spun around to see Logan. The burly Canadian frowned down at her in concern.

"It's Kurt, Mr. Logan," Kitty said. "He's acting really weird. It's like, I came home, right, and he was, like, standing here looking up at the mansion. He must have, like, changed the settings of his image inducer or something because he was, like, way taller with short, sandy hair. Seriously, he looked like he must have been, like, forty years old or something!"

Logan creased his brow.

"Forty, you say?" He barked a short laugh. "I wonder what the Elf is up to this time. He give you any clues?"

"Not really. But he's been acting, like, really weird all day. I mean, first he brought me breakfast in bed—"

Logan raised an eyebrow.

"Breakfast in bed?" he teased. "What for?"

Kitty twitched uncomfortably, twiddling her thumbs as she answered.

"Well, it's like, he wanted to do something nice for me because I, like, sort of told him I'd kind of go to the dance with him tonight."

Logan shrugged.

"Sounds like something the Squirrel would do."

Kitty sighed, seemingly embarrassed though Logan wasn't sure why.

"Yeah, I know, but he was acting so weird when he did it! All shy and nervous and stuff. It kind of creeped me out. Then at school, I didn't see him at all and usually all of us from the Institute eat lunch together. And then, after searching for, like, ever, I got back to find him like I told you. It's real weird, Mr. Logan. I don't get it."

Logan sniffed the air, searching for any lingering scents with his highly attuned senses. His eyes widened in shock.

"That can't be right," he muttered.

"What?" Kitty asked, stepping closer to the Canadian. "What is it?"

"Stay here, Half-Pint," Logan said gruffly. "I'll get to the bottom of this little mystery."

"But, Mr. Logan, if Kurt's—"

"I said stay here, Kitty. I'll be back."

Kitty shrugged and moved to sit on the stoop.

"OK. I'll be, like, right here if you need me, OK?"

Logan didn't answer. He had already picked up the trail of his quarry.


"You can turn that thing off, kid," Logan said, his gruff voice cool and confident despite the fact that his heart was pounding with apprehension. "I know who you are."

The German blinked up at the Canadian from his miserable hunch against the thick trunk of a huge oak tree.

"I knew you would find me, sooner or later," the pale man said tiredly, and straightened his back. "I just hoped it would be later."

He rose gracefully to his feet without the use of his hands, a small smile spreading across his pale features as he looked down into Logan's inscrutable face.

"How are you, mein Freund?"

Logan squinted his flinty eyes as he peered up at the taller man, his mind rebelling against everything his senses were telling him. The German's smile faded when he noticed Logan's not so subtle sniffing.

"Was?" he asked, half amused and half insulted. "Do I really smell that bad?"

Logan's eyes narrowed.

"I can't figure you out, bub," he admitted. "My nose is telling me one thing, but every rational bone in my body refuses to believe it."

The taller man sighed, his narrow face drawn with anxious dread. When he spoke, his voice was as soft as a private prayer. He was clearly talking to himself more than his companion, but Logan's sensitive ears picked up each and every word.

"No matter what happens, there is no way I can avoid impacting things here," he said, his gray eyes tight with emotion. "You and young Kätzchen have already been affected, as has everything I have touched since my arrival. And it will only get worse if I try to hide."

The German looked down at the bulky watch on his wrist for a long moment, then, with the air of one who has just made a life or death decision, he pushed a large, yellow button on its side.

Logan squinted his sensitive eyes as the image of light that had surrounded the taller man flickered and faded out, revealing a slender, blue man in an elegant black suit. His fuzzy, two-toed feet were unshod. His pointed ears poked through his short, wavy hair, and despite his obvious anxiety he held himself with a confidence and self-assurance that marked him as a leader. He was clearly past thirty, but his dark, indigo face was still unlined. He regarded Logan with alert, golden eyes only slightly crinkled at the edges.

"There," he said, stretching out his arms and waving his long, spade-tipped tail in a slow, exaggerated motion. "You see? It's just me, Logan. A bit older, perhaps, but still the same old fuzzy elf." He smiled, revealing his pointed fangs. "Still confused?" he asked with familiar humor. "I know I am."

Logan's eyes widened in astonishment at the sight of the tall, lean man before him as everything his senses had been telling him began to fall into place. However, the reality they pointed to was impossible.

"Kurt?" he asked, his voice uncharacteristically uncertain.

"Of course, mein Freund."

Logan took a step closer.

"Kurt Wagner?"

"That was my name the last time I checked. Although, I have also been known to answer to Nightcrawler."

Logan goggled, a very rare expression for him.

"What happened to you, Elf?" he exclaimed. "How did you get like this?"

Kurt closed his bright eyes and sighed.

"I'm afraid that is a very long, very difficult, and very dangerous story. I am not certain I should tell it here. What is certain, is that I need help. The longer I stay here, the greater the chances that I might change something that should not be changed. A glance, a word, an intake of breath at just the wrong moment, anything I do here could have repercussions that could change...everything."

He opened his eyes and turned his gaze to the fluttering Spring leaves above his head.

"I must get home as soon as possible. I am a danger to myself and all of you until I do."

Logan shook his head, at a loss for words.

"Come with me, Elf," he said at last, his brow furrowed with concern. "We're going to see the Professor."

Kurt worked hard to keep his expression neutral, but Logan sensed an increase in the German's heart rate when he mentioned the Professor. His eyes narrowed as he took in Kurt's black suit, but he wisely kept all his thoughts to himself. In that moment, he knew the Elf was right. His presence here was dangerous, and the sooner he went back where he came from, the better it would be for everyone.


Scott pulled up the long driveway of the Xavier Institute just as Logan came around the building with Kurt. He stopped short, causing Jean to be jolted violently against her seatbelt.

"Ugh!" she grunted. "What is it, Scott?"

Scott could only point. Jean followed his finger and her jaw dropped.

"Oh, my God! But that can't be—"

"Kurt!" Kitty exclaimed, jumping up from the stoop where she'd been impatiently breaking a stick into small pieces. "My God, Kurt, is that really you?"

"Kurt, man, I am so sorry!" Scott said, running up to him on his long legs, Jean close behind him. "When I told you to grow up, I didn't mean for you to take me so literally! How did this happen, man?"

Kurt stared at Scott, his dark face a study in amazement.

"S-Scott?" he said softly. "Cyclops? But, it must be you. Mein Gott, but you look so young! And you, Jean...!"

He trailed off, looking very tired as an unbearable wave of fear, grief, and loss passed over him. Jean gasped and quickly strengthened her mental shields. Kurt's yellow eyes narrowed and his lips twisted into a small, wry smirk.

"Well," he said, "I suppose I can no longer deny what has happened. Somehow, I am here and now it's up to me to deal with it."

He sighed at the curious, confused looks on his friends' faces, then forced himself to smile.

"Hello, my friends," he said. "My name is Kurt Wagner and I'm from the future, corny as that may sound. And, if I'm ever going to get back to my home, I'm afraid I'm going to need your help."

Before anyone could respond to that alarming statement, a deep, cultured voice sounded in each of their heads.

*X-Men, please report to my office at once*

A very strange look passed over Kurt's face. Jean regarded him curiously, but he just flashed an easy smile at her and shrugged.

"Since Logan and I were headed to see the Professor anyway, I hope you won't mind if I join you." He sighed again, his tail shuddering slightly in response to all the worries swirling through his mind. "I only hope we can fix this before it's too late."

As the small troop filed into the mansion, Kitty ran up to talk to Logan.

"If this guy is really, like, from the future and stuff," she asked softly, her eyes darting to make sure the adult Kurt wasn't listening in, "then what happened to our Kurt?"

Logan shook his head, his dark, flinty eyes filled with concern.

"I don't know, Half-Pint. I just don't know."

To Be Continued...