Chapter Twelve

Wolverine stumped down the chrome corridor to the Danger Room, already impatient for the training session to be over so they could head out to Montana. The backs of his hands were itching in anticipation of the confrontation to come and the kids hadn't even finished their breakfast yet.

As he turned a corner, another thought prickled the back of Logan's mind. He still hadn't seen any sign of Kurt that morning - aside from the noticeable dent he had put in the sausage pile before the others arrived in the dining room. After what he'd witnessed the night before, Logan was starting to grow concerned.

It had disturbed Logan to learn that Kurt had not returned with the others from the dance the night before. For someone so concerned about not tampering with the timeline, it seemed odd for him to go off on his own like that. It wasn't that he didn't trust the Elf. If anything, this adult Nightcrawler seemed even more upright and conscientious than the boy he knew. He just couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right.

Kitty seemed to think he'd left because he realized he knew Pete from the future and didn't want to risk saying anything that might change things. But, when Logan pulled Scott aside, he'd gotten a different story altogether.

"He just said that something came up, something he had to deal with himself," Scott had told him with a shrug. "He wouldn't say any more. He really seemed to be in a hurry, but it didn't feel as though anything was wrong."

Logan had stayed up to wait for the Elf's return. The moment the familiar teleport stink reached his nostrils, he had tracked it to Kurt's room and peered through the half-closed door, keeping himself well hidden in the shadowed corridor.

The Elf was crouched on the edge of his bed deep in thought, affectionately stroking the frame of a small photograph. Logan knew that picture. It had been taken when the Elf was about four or five years old. The smiling boy was being held by his adopted parents just outside their home in Germany. As Logan watched, Kurt began talking to himself in German. Although his sensitive ears could easily pick up every softly spoken word, he only understood a few. It was something about family and truth and father, mother, grandmother, and children.

Logan was about to leave, feeling almost ashamed of his paranoid eavesdropping, when a faint scent tickled his nostrils. He knew that smell. The lingering aroma of imported beer nearly covered it, but it was there, and it was unmistakable.

Mystique.

The Elf had been out drinking with Mystique.

Logan flexed his fingers, feeling the flesh of his hand stretch over the retracted adamantium claws housed just underneath his skin, his mind filling with wary suspicion. Could the Elf have switched sides? Was this crazy mess all part of some twisted plan? Perhaps this Nightcrawler was a clone of some sort and the real Kurt Wagner was being held hostage somewhere...?

Before Wolverine could burst into the room, his claws extended and his teeth bared, he was stopped short by a single word. Didn't 'tot' mean 'dead'?

Logan shook his head in confusion, trying to recall the Elf's exact words. Did he just say Mystique was dead? No - he'd said she 'would be' dead before... something... something... her grandchildren...?

Kurt had children?

Logan's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Well, that would certainly explain a lot of the anxiety and depression he'd been sensing from the usually cheerful Elf. Even his present situation couldn't have accounted entirely for such strong feelings of separation.

Quickly cooling from his sudden rage, Logan watched as Kurt swore softly and reached up to rub at his luminescent eyes. He gently placed the photograph on his bedside table and knelt down beside his bed, his forehead pressed to his folded hands. As Kurt began a heartfelt prayer, in English, for his mother's soul, both present and future, Logan slipped silently away and headed back to his own room.

He couldn't really blame the Elf for wanting to spend some time with his mother, especially if she was dead in the time he came from. He must have seen her at the dance. As principal of the school, it was likely that she would have been there. It only surprised him that Mystique had actually agreed to talk with him. Maybe, unlikely though it sounded, that blue cow cared more about her son than she let on...

A light was flashing above the Danger Room door as Logan approached. Slowly, a grin spread over his rugged features. So...this was where the Elf had been hiding all morning. Curious to see what Kurt was up to, Logan turned and headed for the small elevator that would take him directly to the control booth.

The Danger Room had been modified to look like a rocky beach on a Caribbean island. A large, wooden ship with billowing, white sails was anchored in the harbor some distance away and a rowboat was resting on the sandy shore, complete with oars. As Logan watched, hovering between laughter and amazement, Kurt Wagner leapt into view, his three swords gleaming in the bright, false sunlight as he skillfully and gleefully took on at least a dozen snarling pirates. His holowatch was active, but he was using it only to change the appearance of his clothing, not his skin. He was dressed in a white shirt and brown trousers that seemed to have been pulled directly from the seventeenth century, and a golden hoop earring dangled roguishly from one pointed ear.

Even though he was the one outnumbered, it seemed the pirates were the ones at a disadvantage as Kurt used the sword grasped securely in his tail to hold off any who tried to attack him from behind while the two in his hands jabbed and parried so quickly it was hard for even Logan to keep track of his moves. Whenever it seemed the pirates were about to gain the upper hand, Kurt would flip gracefully over their heads with a powerful leap and come at them again from ground of his own choosing. It was such an engrossing fight that Logan couldn't bring himself to interrupt it, even when the kids began to trickle into the control room, already suited up and confused as to why the Danger Room light was on when there was no one in the corridor to meet them.

"Dude! This is better than the movies!" Evan exclaimed, and leaned closer to the window, straining for a more complete view.

"Aren't those the swords from the weapons closet?" Jean asked, turning to Logan. "The ones you were always yelling at Kurt not to play with when he first came here?"

Logan shot her a dark look.

"Looks to me like the Elf knows what he's doin'," he grunted.

Jean nodded and walked across the small room to stand next to Scott, who was scowling by the doorway.

"Like, how long has he been at this?" Kitty asked, gasping slightly as Kurt dodged a pirate's notched blade just in time to avoid losing his tail.

"Don't know, Half-Pint," Logan rumbled, trying hard to contain an enthusiastic grin of his own. "It's quite a sight, though, ain't it?"

"Sure is," Rogue admitted, breaking out of her practiced non-chalance to join Evan by the viewport window.

"I've never felt such complete focus," Jean commented, her brow slightly furrowed as she watched the fight play out below her from the back of the booth. "I think this is really helping him with all those pent up emotions he was struggling with yesterday."

"But what about our simulation," Scott protested. "This little game may be fun for Kurt, but we've got a mission to prepare for!"

Logan sighed. As much as he hated to admit it, the kid was right. Before Logan could activate the intercom to tell Kurt off, however, there was a loud BUZZZ and the holographic simulation faded out, leaving in its place only the bare, metallic space that was the Danger Room's natural state and one grinning Kurt Wagner. The kids were deeply impressed to note he was barely even out of breath after his exertion. Logan looked down at his watch. There were still seven minutes to go before the time he'd set for the training session to begin.

"There you go, Cyclops," Logan said, and smirked. "Seems the Elf was way ahead of us."

The others snickered at the slightly chagrined expression that crossed Scott's face.

"Then what are we waiting for?" the young team leader snapped. "Let's get down there and get started!"

As Scott turned on his heel and marched back to the elevator, Jean shook her head.

"Come on, guys," she said. "It looks like 'Mr. Military' has spoken."

"I heard that!" Scott's voice called out from the direction of the elevator.


Kurt looked up from the water bubbler in the hall as the kids piled out of the elevator, followed closely by Logan.

"Guten Morgen, every one!" he greeted, wiping the water from his fuzzy chin with the towel draped around his shoulders. Pressing a few buttons on his watch, the air around him shimmered as his seventeenth-century clothing transformed into a perfectly fitted version of his familiar red and black uniform. "So," he said, turning around to give them a complete picture, "what do you think?"

"It's a hologram," Scott pointed out. "Not an armored suit. How's that supposed to protect you against projectiles and stun rays?"

Kurt shot him a sly look.

"Ach, but this is a hard-light* holowatch, mein Junge," he said, holding the device out for Scott's inspection. "It's the one I was wearing when I arrived here. The image it projects is solid." His smile broadened as Kitty reached up to touch the uniform's pointed shoulders. "Almost as good as the real thing, ja?"

Kitty returned his grin.

"Like, it actually feels real!"

"That is so cool, man!" Spyke said, touching Kurt's arm.

"Um, you are wearing something under that, aren't you?" Scott inquired uncomfortably.

"Of course! These holowatches are nothing if not untrustworthy." Kurt laughed, though the memories of his capture by Weapon-X haunted his yellow eyes. "It would be very embarrassing if this watch were to go on the fritz in the middle of a battle and I were to find myself..." He cleared his throat. "Well, you get the idea."

Kitty and Jean giggled and even Rogue blushed a little.

Wolverine just checked the time.

"Fascinating as all this is, we do have a mission to prepare for, if you remember," he scolded, though he was smirking himself. As the doors to the Danger Room slid open, he said, "Now, if we'll all just step inside, I think it's about time for us to get down to business."

Kurt nodded his agreement.

"Of course. Herr Wolverine is correct, my friends."

He walked over to Wolverine as the kids filed into the empty, metal room, his tail twitching with curiosity.

"So, Logan," he said, "tell us this plan of yours. Just where is Magneto's mysterious magnetic mountain?"

As Wolverine outlined the strategy for approaching Magneto's base, a small, white mouse tilted its tiny head, almost as though it was listening. As the small group broke their huddle and prepared to activate the simulation, the mouse scurried away, slipping easily through an open access panel and up the tangled wiring to the exit high above.


*Concept of 'hard-light' holograms pinched from 'Red Dwarf'.


"Are you really Nightcrawler?"

Kurt looked up from his plate to face the young boy who had spoken.

"Ja, that's me. But people usually only call me by my codename when I'm on missions."

A younger girl flushed green.

"But, we can't just call you...well...Kurt!" She giggled nervously, then looked up at him through wide, orange eyes. "Can we?"

Kurt shrugged, uncomfortable with how the Institute students seemed to be in awe of him.

"Well, I don't see why not," he said weakly. "I mean, it is my name after all."

There was a small outburst of giggles.

Kurt could feel himself blushing under his fur as he sank lower into his chair and stabbed at a meatball with his fork.

Marti, Suzie, and Edmund watched him silently from across the round table. Kurt noted with some concern that they, too, had barely touched their food. He tried to smile at them, but they just turned to one another and shared uncomfortable glances. Kurt sighed.

This was a ridiculous situation, and it was time he did something about it. As strange and frightening as it was to wrap his head around, there was no doubt that these were his children. Kurt wanted to get to know them. He wanted to talk with them more than anything he had ever wanted in his life, and he wasn't about to let nervousness and embarrassment get in his way.

"So," he tried, keeping his voice light, "this is pretty strange, huh?"

Suzie snorted, her golden eyes fixed on her spaghetti.

"You can say that again," she said, effectively closing the conversation before it had even begun.

Kurt nodded, trying to think of another opening.

"You three are from Britain, ja?" he asked, desperately curious about their accents.

Marti nodded.

"Yes," she said. "We're with Excalibur, at Braddock Manor outside London."

Kurt's ears pricked up.

"Excalibur?" he asked, interested.

"Uncle Scott said that if you don't know, we're not supposed to talk about it," Edmund said quietly, patting his meatballs into a patty with his fork.

"Uncle Scott isn't here," Suzie pointed out, a bitter tone to her voice. "This is the 'Kid's Dining Room'."

Marti snorted.

"And just to add insult to injury, we have to be seated alphabetically, too."

Suzie shot her a teasing grin.

"Yeah. Too bad. Samuel's all the way at the other end of the room!"

Marti scowled slightly and turned her gaze back to her half-eaten spaghetti.

Kurt shared their annoyance. Being seated in a separate room from the adults, being served spaghetti and meatballs rather than the steak, chicken, or fish options offered to all those over the age of eighteen...it was embarrassing and it was demeaning. But even so, this wasn't his time and he wasn't ready to go against Scott's rules.

Well...not yet, anyway.

Edmund darted his gaze from one sister to the other, growing uncomfortable with the long pause.

"So, can we tell him about Excalibur?" he asked at last.

Marti and Suzie looked uneasy.

"Look," Kurt said, trying to ease the tension. "I don't want to get you guys in trouble. Let's just stick with the basics for now, all right?"

"Like what?" Edmund asked, looking up from his mashed meat sculpture.

Kurt shrugged.

"Well, we still haven't exactly been introduced. I mean, I know Marta's name because she told me on the roof, and I've gathered that your names are Suzie and Edmund—"

"Her name's not really Suzie," Edmund said. "That's her middle name."

Suzie glared at her brother and made to punch his shoulder, but Marti reached out with her tail and stopped her before she made contact. The two siblings stuck their tongues out at each other instead.

Kurt struggled to keep from laughing.

"Well, what is your name?" he asked, his eyes bright with interest.

Suzie made a face, but admitted, "It's Ingrid. Ingrid Susan Wagner."

Kurt brightened.

"You mean like Ingrid Bergman from 'Casablanca'?" Kurt reached up to run a hand through his long hair as he grinned. "Man, she was one hot chick, nein?"

Marti's eyes bugged wide open, and she clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing with her mouth full.

Suzie scowled, too annoyed to realize the boy had just done exactly what Kitty had been teasing their father about on the jet.

"Yeah. That's it," she muttered

Kurt turned from Marta to Suzie, his eyes narrowed with confusion at their opposing reactions.

"But Ingrid is a beautiful name!" he told them.

"Suzie's better," Suzie muttered.

Kurt shook his head with sly, knowing eyes.

"Ach, you may think so now. But I have always felt the name 'Ingrid' to be as strong as it is lovely. That is why I believe it suits you so well."

Suzie rolled her eyes.

"You always say that," she muttered. Then she blinked, realizing what she'd just said.

Kurt straightened.

"Cool!" He grinned. Then he winked at her. "That future me must be more perceptive than I thought."

The three children stared at him, their eyes wide and small smiles creeping across their faces.

"You were right, Marti!" Edmund exclaimed happily. "This boy really is Daddy!"

The expression on Marti's face fell slightly.

"Well," she said, "not yet. But he will be."

Kurt cleared his throat.

"So," he said, trying to get the conversation back on track. "How old are you?"

"I'm fourteen," Marti told him, "Suzie's twelve, and Edmund is eight. And you're sixteen?"

Kurt nodded.

"Ja. Are you all X-Men?"

Marti shrugged.

"Well, it's different here than it is at home. At home, when I'm sixteen I can join up as a junior member of Excalibur - the English branch of the International X-Men Organization. Here, you can't join the X-Men until you're eighteen. Different countries, different leaders, different rules."

"Hmmm," Kurt said with a slight smirk. "I guess that explains why I was sent to the 'Kid's Table'."

He shook his head.

"But it doesn't seem fair," he said. "I mean, when Professor Xavier started the X-Men it was made up of nothing but kids: me, Scott, Jean, Kitty...and Evan and Rogue joined later. Why is it different now?"

"Dad says it's because his work is so dangerous," Rachel Summers piped up from the table next to theirs, where she'd been keeping track of their conversation. "He doesn't want to put us in danger until we know how to control our powers enough to defend ourselves. That's why we have this school."

Kurt narrowed his eyes, beginning to understand.

"So, then it's like you are all X-Men in training?"

Rachel shrugged.

"Sorta like that."

Kurt looked around the crowded room.

"And you all have powers?"

"They usually don't turn up until puberty," the girl with the orange eyes told him. "But some of the second and third generation mutants get them earlier. Like Rachel and Marti."

"Yeah," said Rachel. "I found out I could read thoughts six years ago, when I was five." The red-head snickered. "I scared Mom pretty bad."

"And I started teleporting when I was ten," Marti told him. "But I don't need to see where I'm going in order to 'port there. My sense of spatial perception is so strong that I can actually see magnetic fields, and I use them to guide me. I also have a limited sense of predetermination so I can make sure I never 'port into a person or an object by accident."

Kurt grinned with admiration.

"That's an improvement over my powers," he said. "You never have to teleport 'blind'."

He turned to the others at his table.

"Anyone else?" he asked.

Edmund nudged Suzie in the arm. Suzie shook her head firmly. Edmund smiled wickedly and turned to Kurt.

"Suzie has a power too," he said quickly, "but she doesn't like to use it."

"You little pest!" Suzie shrieked, rising so quickly she knocked her chair backwards.

Edmund stood on his own chair and leaped across the table, using Kurt as a shield against his sister's wrath.

All the Institute kids put down their forks and stopped their conversations, turning to watch the commotion with avid interest.

"Suzie, quit that!" Marti exclaimed, forcibly holding her sister back from attacking her brother. "The grown-ups are having their supper in the next room with that Kylun guy. Do you really want to make such a fuss that they'll have to come in here?"

Suzie snarled and struggled her way out of her sister's grasp, glaring daggers at Edmund.

"I'll get back at you later," she promised, picking up her chair and slamming it back into place with as much noise as she could make before sitting back down.

"Okay..." Kurt said, his eyebrows raised. "Just what was all that about?"

"It was about Edmund being a tattling brat," Suzie told him matter-of-factly. "As always."

Edmund grabbed an extra chair that had been resting against the wall and slid it between Kurt and the girl with the orange eyes, reaching out to grab Kurt's tail with his own as he took his seat. Kurt's eyes widened in surprise, and he looked down at the sulking Edmund with a soft smile, touched beyond words by the boy's unconscious gesture. Acting on impulse, Kurt wrapped an arm around the his future son's narrow shoulders and pulled him close for a brief squeeze. His heart filled as the boy returned the hug.

"Manipulative little twit," Suzie muttered under her breath. "Already has him wrapped around his little finger..."

Kurt tilted his head, regarding Suzie with curiosity tinged with annoyance.

"Are your powers really so awful that you would rather hurt your brother than tell me what they are?" he asked her.

Suzie sighed deeply and squeezed her eyes closed.

"They bother me, all right?" she snapped. "I know you always say - or you will always say - or..."

She rolled her eyes with a frustrated groan, tearing her hand through her long, blue hair.

"I know I don't have to be like her just because I have her power," she said, her words clipped and precise, "but it still bothers me, OK?"

Kurt's mouth opened slightly as he realized what she meant.

"You are a shapeshifter?" he asked softly.

Suzie scowled at her plate and nodded.

Kurt smiled gently.

"You know," he said, "I never told anyone this, but I was always so jealous of Mystique's powers."

Suzie looked up, her head tilted slightly as Kurt continued.

"When I first found out she was my mother, I kept hoping I would find I could change my shape as well." His small smile turned self-conscious. "I had my image inducer, of course, but sometimes..."

He trailed off, averting his gaze from the attentive children and pulling his knees to his chest.

"I never really understood how hard it must have been for you," Marti said softly. "You had to grow up in a time when most humans didn't even know what mutants were..."

She shook her head.

"Even now, some people get scared when they see us but most know us from the news, you know? They just smile and wave and stuff..."

She looked up at him, her green eyes shining with respect and admiration.

"And that's because of you," she said, an awed smile in her voice. "You and Grandfather Charles and all the rest of the X-Men." She shook her head again. "I can't believe I never really realized until now..."

Edmund nodded, wrapping his tail around Kurt's waist.

"Yeah," he said. "Me too."

Kurt smiled, blinking rapidly against the stinging in his eyes as he wrapped his own tail around Edmund.

"I haven't really done anything yet," he said. He tilted his head, considering. "Well...not much, anyway."

"You will," Marti assured him. "And you have no idea how much."

Kurt was starting to feel uncomfortable again. Releasing Edmund, Kurt straightened in his chair and leaned forward.

"Speaking of not doing anything," he said, "when do we get to find out what's up with this Kylun dude? I mean, what if he's the reason I'm here? Don't I have a right to know?"

Marti nodded, but it was Rachel who spoke.

"Dad said I was supposed to keep an eye on you until he or Mom came to talk to you."

"What?" Kurt exclaimed. "Why?"

Rachel shrugged.

"Because at sixteen you were an irresponsible troublemaker and a prankster with no respect for authority."

"Hey!" Kurt protested. "Maybe I play a few jokes now and then but that doesn't mean I don't respect authority! And where does your father come off calling me irresponsible—"

He stopped, regarding Rachel with eyes narrowed in sudden realization.

"Your father is Scott, isn't he?" he stated more than asked. "And your mother is Jean?"

Rachel nodded.

"Yeah. I'm Rachel Summers. My brother Nathan's not here, though. Auntie Ororo's watching him and all the other babies in the kitchen."

"Pleased to meet you," Kurt said politely, still annoyed by what she'd said. "Scott told you all that stuff about me, didn't he?"

Rachel nodded.

"Yeah. But you seem OK to me."

Kurt tilted his head, and laughed.

"Thanks," he said. Then he shook his head.

"Ach, but that figures. Scott was just yelling at me this morning for being 'irresponsible' with my holowatch. He's always so scared I'll blow our cover. That dude really needs to lighten up."

He looked back at Rachel.

"So, what's Scott say about me in this time?"

"Dad says you're a brilliant strategist and an excellent leader but you don't take things seriously enough."

Kurt looked impressed.

"Brilliant strategist, ja? How's this for strategy, then. Rachel, can you tell me where your parents and Kylun are right now?"

Rachel put her hands to her temples and narrowed her large, green eyes in concentration.

"Um, they're headed for the conference room. Kylun's all impatient and everyone else seems pensive and nervous. I think he's going to tell them something important."

"Danke, my friend," Kurt said, standing and walking over to the door.

Marti, Suzie, Edmund, and Rachel rushed after him. The orange eyed girl watched curiously, but didn't follow. All the other students were too involved with their dessert and their own conversations to pay them any attention.

"Wait!" Marti called, "Where are you going?"

Kurt turned to look at her.

"I may be sixteen, but I am still one of the X-Men. I'm going to find out what's going on."

"Then we're coming too," Suzie stated, planting herself firmly before the door. "Five kids out of nearly two hundred surely won't be missed. At least, not right away."

Kurt shook his head.

"I told you I didn't want to get you in any trouble," he protested.

"You're the leader of Excalibur," Suzie pointed out. "If we get caught, we'll say we were just following orders."

Kurt smirked.

"You know that excuse never works. Besides, what if I order you to go back to your table?"

Marti straightened, pretending to take offense.

"Hey, you're just a kid! Where do you come off ordering us around?"

Kurt grinned at her performance, causing her stern face to break up into giggles.

"I like it," he said. "Very well played. All right, you can come with me. But only if you do what I say."

He turned a pointed glance to Suzie and Edmund.

"And no fighting."

Marti snapped to attention with a mock salute.

"Jawohl, mein Herr!"

Kurt stared at her, then grinned.

"Isn't that my line?"

Marti grinned back. Aside from the difference in gender and height, for that moment they seemed a perfect mirror image of each other.

"I'll take Rachel and Edmund and you can take Suzie," she suggested. "People don't tend to get sick when they 'port with me."

Kurt nodded.

"Sounds like a plan. We'll go to the room just above the conference room, OK?"

"OK," Marti agreed, taking the two younger children by the shoulders.

Wrapping his tail around Suzie's waist, he nodded to Marta.

"Ready?"

She nodded an affirmative.

Kurt grinned brightly.

"To paraphrase Herr Summers himself," he said, "teleporter to maximum, Miss Wagner! Let's go!"

There were two nearly simultaneous BAMFs, and the five children vanished in a cloud of sulfurous smoke.

To Be Continued...