Chapter Eight

The school gym had been decorated in the classic underwater motif. Pale blue and white streamers were draped from the ceiling and some of the art students had taken it upon themselves to draw dozens of pictures of comical fish and paste them to the cinder-block walls. The room smelled of stale gym socks, ancient plastic from the greenish tarp that covered the polished wooden floor, and sweet pastries from the refreshments table.

Kurt had set his image inducer to project just a basic cover, meaning that the hologram merely colored his own features rather than making him appear as someone else. He'd had to re-set the specifications to account for his greater height and so on. When he'd first activated the watch in his old room, it had been a shock to see a sixteen year old boy with shoulder-length, ebony hair blinking back at him. Going to the dance disguised as his younger self would have been asking for more trouble than he cared to deal with. It would be much easier just to pass himself off as Kitty's German uncle, so he modified the hologram's eye and hair coloring to match hers.

The difference the hologram made was striking, though he was still recognizable to those who knew him. His narrow, aristocratic features, long nose, and almond eyes lent him an elfish look even without the pointed ears. Without his midnight fur, he appeared somehow smaller than his five feet and nine inches - six feet when he was on his toes - and somewhat frailer without the sight of his powerful tail swinging along behind him. His pale, yellow eyes were now a clear blue, and his short, wavy, indigo hair was dark brown with reddish highlights.

Kitty grinned broadly up at him as she dragged him by the hand into the already crowded gym.

"We're, like, right on time, thank goodness!" she exclaimed as the others crowded in behind her. Evan and Rogue headed straight for the refreshments table while Scott took up a scowling position against the wall, searching the room for Jean. Kurt looked down at Kitty, feeling uncomfortable and out of place in this closely packed space.

"And where is this Pete you spoke of?" he asked lightly, refusing to allow her to see his discomfort. He had to make his voice louder than usual to be heard over the thumping noise he supposed had to be music emanating from the DJ's tall speakers.

"I don't see him yet," Kitty said, casting her bright gaze around the room. "So, do you, like, wanna dance?"

Kurt grimaced slightly as he watched the dancers move. They were gyrating against each other, not so much dancing as jerking aimlessly to the thumping beat of the so-called music. Had he really enjoyed this kind of thing when he was younger?

"You call this 'dancing'?" Kurt asked, an ironic note creeping into his accented voice. He shook his head. "Nein, Kätzchen, I cannot do this," he gestured to the dancers. "Here," he said, taking her hand, "come with me. Let us see if we can start something new."

Confused, but willing, Kitty followed Kurt through the throng of swaying teenagers. The DJ looked up as they approached, his neck bobbing in time to the music.

"Hey, man, what's up?" he said easily, playing with a few knobs and dials it seemed just for the fun of it. It made no difference to the din that was pounding in their ears.

"Do you have anything with a melody?" Kurt asked bluntly. "You know, something energetic that you can dance to properly, not this thumping row."

"Well, I've, like, got some Chilli Peppers and U2 and stuff," the DJ said, unoffended by Kurt's unsubtle critique of the song he was currently playing. "Maybe some Wheezer, but I'm not sure of that. Oh, and here's Nickleback."

"Got any Rolling Stones, or Beatles?" Kurt asked hopefully.

"Uhhhh..."

"Zeppelin? Styx? Boston? Bowie?" he went on. "I won't even dare to ask for Ella Fitzgerald..."

The DJ looked blankly thoughtful for a moment, then he shrugged.

"Don't know, dude. Might have some old stuff in the back of the van, though."

"No, never mind." Kurt sighed. "Kätzchen, I'll leave it up to you. Would you like Chilli Peppers, U2, or Nickleback?"

Kitty moved behind the DJ's table to peer at the backs of his CDs.

"Can you play this one?" she asked, pointing to one of the songs.

"Can do!" the DJ nodded, taking the case from her. The thumping song ended - *Bliss* Kurt couldn't help thinking at the sudden silence - and the DJ deftly replaced that disk with the one in his hand. Almost instantly, the new music started up. Kurt grinned when he recognized the song and held his hand out to Kitty.

"Now, Kätzchen, we can dance properly," he said as she took it, still surprised at how her own small hand seemed to vanish into his much larger one. The Kurt she knew was about the same size she was. It was weird to see him fully grown like this...to realize how much growing up she still had to do...

Kitty gasped as Kurt spun her towards him, his bright grin lighting his whole face.

"Just follow my lead," he said cheerfully. "You'll catch on faster than you think."

This Kurt was an excellent dancer. He skillfully tailored his own performance to make Kitty look better than she was. She would find herself awkwardly off balance, only having just enough time to realize Kurt had maneuvered her into a complicated dance position that must have looked amazing to an outsider's eye before he spun her around and started again.

Before long, a space had cleared for them in the center of the room. The other kids began to comment and applaud in awe as the smiling dancers spun across the floor. As Kitty began to anticipate Kurt's moves, she found she was really starting to enjoy herself. She'd always thought people only danced like this in the movies. It was thrilling to experience the adrenaline rush for herself.

All too soon, the song ended and Kurt dipped her into a graceful ending pose. The applause was overwhelming. Kitty straightened, her face flushed and her eyes shining with spent energy and happiness. Looking over at her dance partner, she could see him soaking in the applause like a willing sponge, his delighted grin threatening to split his face. The two of them took their bows, then Kurt took Kitty's hand in his and led her through the crowd to the refreshment table.

"There," he said, ladling into two plastic cups the ginger ale, sherbet, and Hawaiian Punch drink that seems to be present at every function involving minors. He handed one to her before taking a sip of his own. "Wasn't that more fun than that whatever it is they were doing out there? I don't know what to call it."

Kitty laughed, almost choking on her punch.

"That was, like, totally awesome! When did you learn to do that?"

"While I was growing up in the circus, Margali made sure I learned dancing as I learned acrobatics. She said it would teach me grace, and it is a wonderful way to warm up and exercise your whole body while the trapeze is in use by someone else." He tilted his head. "I thought for certain you knew that." He narrowed his eyes, straining his memory. "Or maybe it was Amanda I told." He shrugged. "Oh well. Too late now."

Kitty looked startled.

"But, doesn't it, like, bother you that you might have, like, changed history or something?"

Kurt shook his head.

"Tell me truthfully, Kitty. Would knowing I can dance have stopped you from accepting Pete's invitation over mine?"

Kitty flushed, cringing a little as she answered, "No. I guess not."

Kurt surprised her by grinning.

"Then, there you are. This knowledge has not changed your feelings for my younger self and so history has not changed either."

"Unless your dance, like, influenced some of these other kids," Kitty pointed out.

"I don't think so," Kurt said. "At least, I hope it didn't..."

Kurt covered a sudden shiver by taking another sip of punch. Looking over the cup's plastic rim, he saw a young man heading through the crowd straight for Kitty. He barely managed to stop himself from performing an embarrassing spit-take as he realized he recognized the boy.

"Ah, Kitty," he said, tapping her shoulder to get her attention away from the neatly piled marshmallow squares. "I believe your date has arrived."

The scruffy young man glared daggers at Kurt as he stormed towards the pair.

"Just who the 'ell are you, old man, and what d'you think you was doin', dancin' wif me date?" he demanded in a thick, Cockney accent.

"Pete!" Kitty grinned excitedly, taking the older boy by the hand. Kurt couldn't help but notice that the distinct stink of cigarettes clung to the boy like cheap cologne.

"Did you see me out there?" Kitty enthused, beaming. "Wasn't that, like, totally amazing?!"

"What?" Pete asked, looking at her for the first time. "Oh, yeah, whatever. Kitty, who the 'ell is this guy? He's like, old enough to be your father or somefin'!"

She looked up at Kurt, her eyes slightly misted.

"Oooh, doesn't he have, like, the coolest accent? He's an English exchange student!"

Kurt raised an eyebrow and regarded the pair with a hint of disapproval.

"Allow me to introduce myself, Herr Wisdom," he said imperiously. "I am Kitty's uncle."

Pete looked up at Kurt in confusion and alarm.

"Her uncle?!" He winced. "Ooh, sorry man. I didn't know." He paused, then creased his brow. "Hey, wait a mo. How d'you know me name?"

Kurt smirked slightly.

"Let's just say Kätzchen has told me a great deal about you. I cannot say that I approve of all I have heard, however."

"Ku-Uncle!" Kitty protested, her eyes wide. "Like, what are you doing?"

Kurt sighed, remembering a much older Kitty and the crass, English spy she had fallen in love with. He hadn't realized they had met before. He and Pete Wisdom had never really gotten along. They had only tolerated each other for Kitty's sake. It had been a relief to both him and Brian when she and Pete finally broke it off and Kitty had turned her affections to Alistaire Stuart.

"I am sorry, Kätzchen," he said. "It is not my place to criticize. I know that Pete has a good heart. Just see if you can get him to quit smoking this time, ja?"

With that seemingly cryptic remark, Kurt strode away through the crowd, leaving Kitty and Pete to stare in confusion at his departing back.

"Weird guy, your uncle," Pete observed. "And where's 'e come off tellin' me to quit smoking?"

Kitty shrugged.

"Well, you shouldn't smoke, you know. It's, like, totally killer on your lungs and stuff."

Kurt didn't hear the rest of their conversation. The wonderful feeling of exhilaration the students enthusiastic response to his dancing had given him had completely faded. The press of the crowd was starting to get to him and he began to feel slightly dizzy. No matter how old he got, he felt he would never feel comfortable in a crowd. Quickly, he headed for the exit and some fresh air.


The night was chilly and the brisk breeze helped to revive him after the suffocating heat of the gym. Kurt leaned against the rough bricks of the wall, staring up into the nighttime sky.

The dizziness had just faded when someone's small, startled cry alerted him to the fact that he was not alone. Unconsciously taking up a defensive stance, Kurt spun to face the stranger on the balls of his feet. Even with his hologram activated, his golden eyes allowed him to see through the twilight dimness as easily as if it had been midday.

He relaxed his pose slightly as he saw a tall, slender woman with thick, waist-length red hair walking hesitantly toward him with a sickly, wobbling gait. Her face was pale with shock and her mouth was slightly agape. She looked as though she had seen a ghost, or been witness to a murder.

Kurt took a few steps toward her, trying to seem as nonthreatening as possible.

"Hello?" he called out, not wanting to frighten her in case she hadn't seen him in the shadows. "Are you all right?"

At the sound of his voice, the woman gasped and brought her long, slender hands to her mouth. She swayed slightly.

Kurt rushed to support her, afraid she might faint. Carefully wrapping his arms around her so she would not feel his strangely shaped, three-fingered hands, he looked into her face.

Her eyes were wide and terrified. Her hands covered the rest of her face. Kurt winced at her expression, hoping that she was not this terrified of him.

"There, I've got you," he said gently, leading her carefully across the uneven grass and setting her down on the short flight of steps leading up to the tightly closed gym door. The thumping beat of the music could still be felt, more than heard, through the concrete wall. Kurt stood beside her patiently as he waited for the trembling young woman to recover enough to speak.

"Are you OK now?" he asked softly.

"Eric?" she said weakly, her voice so soft Kurt had to strain to understand her. Her wide, searching eyes were of the deepest blue. But, there was something about her face, something familiar that Kurt couldn't quite place...

"Eric, is that really you?"

Before Kurt could respond, the woman had leaped to her feet and was holding him tightly in a crushing embrace. He felt her warm tears against his neck as he slowly brought his flailing arms around to her shuddering back.

"Oh, Eric, I can't believe it!" the woman sobbed, hysterical and deaf to his vain attempts to correct her mistake. "I thought you were dead! I thought he'd killed you!"

Kurt straightened.

"Was!" he exclaimed, shocked at the prospect of a real murder having taken place. "Who?"

"Magnus!" the woman cried, trembling harder as she held him with a frantic strength that threatened to squeeze all the air from his lungs, if she didn't crack his ribcage first. "I saw you lying there, with all that blood! And then, I just took our baby and ran. I didn't even think to check if you were still breathing, I just ran. And then there were wolves and the old bridge, and Magnus was there and- Oh! Oh, God!"

She started sobbing again, her tears thoroughly soaking the shoulder of Scott's sweatshirt.

Kurt winced slightly, dreading her reaction once she realized she was not holding the man she believed him to be. Unable to extricate himself from her grasp or to reach her with words, he simply stroked her back in the most comforting fashion he could manage, murmuring the universal, wordless sounds of soothing.

"Oh, Eric..." She shuddered, her trembling starting to slow. "The waterfall was roaring and the wolves were snapping at my heels and I tried to hold him out of the way, but I lost my balance and...and..."

She took in a gasping breath and held him even tighter. Kurt squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to groan.

"But none of that matters now!" she exclaimed. "You're alive, Eric, and so is our son! We're all alive despite him!"

She broke away at last, looking up into his eyes with a wondrous expression of awe on her narrow, elegant face.

Kurt struggled to catch his breath, trying to recover from her frantic squeezing without being too obvious about it.

"He's here too, Eric," the woman babbled, "at this very school! And he is such a wonderful boy, Eric! You will be so proud of him! He reminds me so much of you-so noble and caring and good, despite all the wickedness in the world. Despite having a mother as cold and heartless as I am. I've changed so much since you knew me, done so many things...!"

Kurt gasped as suddenly, recognition dawned.

"Mother!"

The word was out of his mouth before he could stop it. He knew he should teleport away before any further damage could be done, but he found himself rooted to the spot, staring in unabashed stupefaction at the woman who stood before him, thousands of confused thoughts and emotions tumbling through his mind as he struggled to come to terms with what was happening.

Mein Gott, Mystique must have mistaken me for my father, he realized. I didn't know my father's name was Eric. This must be how she looked when she knew him. Did she say Magneto 'murdered' him...?

Even as these startling realizations were swirling through his mind, Mystique was already shifting her form. In the blink of an eye, the startled young woman with the long, red hair was replaced by the far more familiar, far more threatening form of Principal Raven Darkholme.

"I don't know what you think you're up to with that holowatch of yours, boy," she hissed, pointing a dangerously sharp red fingernail at him, her narrowed eyes frigid with fury, "but I don't think it's very funny. What are you doing, trying to look older so you can sneak some alcohol to your little friends? This is going on your permanent record if you can't hand the bottles over right now."

Kurt stared at her, bewildered and disoriented by this surreal turn of events.

"Was?" he said. "Nein! I would never do something like that."

The Principal's eyes narrowed even further.

"Clever how you've even managed to change your voice. But, I'll let you in on a little secret-the accent gives you away."

Kurt blinked.

Raven smirked.

"All right, then, if you're not sneaking alcohol just what are you up to?"

"I am not 'up to' anything," Kurt assured her, struggling to bring order to the raging chaos that was threatening to take over his mind. "I just wanted some fresh air. Honestly. I'll go now."

"Not so fast," Mystique snapped.

He turned back to her with a sigh.

"Look, Mystique, I'm sorry about the confusion," he told her, suddenly feeling very tired. "It was never my intention to deceive you or to hurt you in any way."

Mystique was advancing on him now, her glasses gleaming in the light of a nearby street lamp.

"You are not my son," she stated, her every movement radiating suspicion. "Who are you? Why this pretense? Who are you working for?"

Kurt closed his eyes and raised a hand to his forehead. Mystique's own eyes narrowed at the way his fingers remained unnaturally paired, suddenly looking almost uncertain.

"This was all just an accident," he said, lifting his eyes to hers. "None of this was ever meant to happen. If we both just promised to forget about the whole thing, perhaps..."

He trailed off, running his hand violently through his hair with a frustrated groan.

"Ach, forget it," he growled. "It's too late to fix this verdammt mess anyway."

Looking around, using his night-vision and spatial perception to make sure they were really alone, Kurt tore the holowatch from his wrist, turning to Mystique with his arms and tail spread wide, as he had for Wolverine several hours ago.

"There," he said. "You see? No trick. Is there any way anyone could fake this tail so realistically?" he asked, waving it in her flabbergasted face. "Or this?"

In a flash of sulfur-scented smoke, Kurt vanished to reappear hanging by his tail from a nearby tree branch.

"I'm Kurt Wagner, your son," he told her matter-of-factly from his upside- down position. "No pretense, no joke, no hologram. Just one forty-seven year old mutant who has been displaced in time, probably due to some blasted experiment of Magneto's."

He crossed his arms, his yellow eyes glinting eerily in the moonlight.

"Satisfied, Mother?"

"Forty-seven!" she exclaimed. "But how..."

Kurt sighed, flipping gracefully to his feet and walking back over to her.

"What would you say if I offered to buy you a drink?" he asked her. "We'll make a deal. You tell me the truth about what happened to my father and why you were running from Magneto the night you dropped me over a waterfall. In return, I'll tell you what I know about how I got here."

Mystique cocked her head, then slowly, ever so slowly, reached out to run a slender hand over his fuzzy cheek. For a brief moment, her eyes softened and Kurt thought he could see a shadow of the anguished young woman he had seen only minutes before.

"You look so much like him," she murmured, her voice uncharacteristically soft. Her dark eyes dropped and she took in a shuddering sigh.

"I always meant to tell you, Kurt," she admitted at last. "I tried once, if you remember. But something always seemed to get in the way..."

"Nothing will get in the way this time," Kurt assured her. "It'll be just you and me. My treat. What do you say?"

Mystique looked up at him, her face once again an impassive mask.

"I never make promises," she told him. "At least, none that I intend to keep. But I could use a drink."

Kurt grinned.

"Wunderbar," he said. Then his eyes widened as he suddenly remembered Kitty. "Ach, Gott," he muttered.

"What?" Mystique asked, suspicious again.

Kurt sighed at her tone.

"The reason I came here tonight was because I was chaperoning a friend," he explained quickly. "If I don't tell her I'm leaving, she might get worried. I wouldn't want her to waste her evening searching for me. If I go, will you still be here when I get back?"

Mystique turned her head, her flinty eyes distant and aloof.

"I already told you, Kurt," she said. "I never make promises."

"Ja. Right." He regarded her, his yellow eyes narrowing slightly. "I'll just have to trust you, then."

With that, he was gone in a BAMF of sulfurous smoke.

To Be Continued...