Bleeding now I'm
Crying out I'm
Falling down and I'm
Feeling nothing like
Laughing now I'm
Stopping now I'm
Reaching out and I'm
Feeling nothing
Yeah, you have created a rift within me
Now there have been several complications
That have left me feeling nothing
I might say, you were wrong to take it from me
Left me feeling nothing
- - "Numb" Disturbed
Making the Connection : Part One
[ 1 ] Up Late
Kurt Wagner, also known as the Incredible Nightcrawler whilst in the Munich Circus, turned over in bed, tangling himself in the sheets. He gave a half-hearted sigh as he realized what he had done. It wasn't the first time he found himself bound with the bedclothes, and certainly would not be the last.
A few months before he would have found himself waking up in an abandoned, desolate church, all alone. Now he could almost feel the presences of the other inhabitants, both restless and peaceful, throughout Charles Xavier's School for the Gifted. He was still getting used to it. It was a different kind of feeling from anywhere he had ever been. Even the circus had held a separate energy. Kurt could not quite put his finger on this feeling.
Unity, perhaps? He and his foster family, not to mention many of the circus folk, had been quite tightly knit, but it was not the same as this place. It was very similar, but, as he had heard one of the students say before, "no cookie." Here he could sense something in the air, almost like wires, or threads, stretching from person to person. Everyone was connected in some way, and seemed to share a very strong bond, even if it was only one of two others.
It was an amazing thing that Xavier had created here. This school was a very wonderful place, and Kurt was sure everyone within it's walls felt very glad to be here. In a way it was very much like the circus he had come from. It was a family, but in a way that was stronger than any kind of blood tie, and when someone new came, someone who needed a family just as much as they had, they would welcome that person with wide open arms.
It was the story of Kurt's life. If Margali had never taken him in, had never cared for him, he did not know where he would be. He was almost afraid to think about it. Would he have been one of the mutants like Erik Lensherr, always taking that one step over the line of acceptability? Would he have become someone who would have by choice attacked the president instead of being forced to by means of mind control?
A shudder raced up his spine as he sat at the edge of his bed thinking. He still didn't remember too much about what had happened to him at Alkali Lake, and to be frank he did not want to. He knew that he probably should because it was a piece of his life that had been cut out, but at the same time he knew that there was a reason he was not remembering it. Did he really want to know what kind of horrible things happened to him? What he did recall was horrifying in itself, but he was afraid of what any further memories might be.
For a moment he watched as the silvery moonlight slid around various parts of his room as if tempting, teasing the shadows just at the edge of its reach. But darkness could never touch light, because they were two opposite forces. Not necessarily good or evil, just different, forever destined to play their game of cat and mouse, neither winning, neither losing.
Would humans and mutants find themselves in a related game? Would they go round and round for eternity? That is exactly what would happen, because in a battle such as that there would be no winner, but unlike moonlight and shadow the so-called "war" between humans and mutants would bring only casualties. People would die, and other people would take up arms in their own way, be it gun, word, or influence. No one would realize it was pointless until the end, perhaps until it was too late.
Of course there was always hope. Hadn't African Americans gained rights here in the United States? It had taken years of hard ships, but they had made it to the point they were now, accepted and respected just the same as everyone else. For the most part at least, because there would always be those willing to fill the halls of organizations for people like the White Supremacists, the Neo nazis, and such. There would always be those with hate in their hearts.
Yet for all those with hate there would be those with love and compassion. They were the ones who would turn this situation around. They were the key. It would take longer, and would be much, much harder, but he believed that mutants would one day be accepted into the world. One day the misunderstandings and fear would subside. Kurt might never see it, in reality he did not think he would, but it would come.
[ 2 ] Desolation
Many miles away Jessi Lindsey growled in frustration and clicked the X button on her document window. The twenty four year old writer had been attempting to write on her new novel for months now and had made no headway. She would write something and then completely erase it. Nothing seemed to fit, there seemed to be nothing worth saying.
She did not understand it. This was her profession! She should have been able to pull words and phrases out of her ass! Nothing came. At the same time she felt she knew exactly what the problem was. She was drained, drained almost to the point of feeling inhuman. (A freaking robot, she was!) Jessi was running only on adrenaline and caffeine. Not a very good combination.
She needed a fresh start, she needed inspiration. Lately however, inspiration was like the needle in the haystack, only in this haystack a nest of rattlers was waiting for her. It was as unattainable as the feelings and relationships she wrote about. She felt as though she no longer believed in such things.
How many times must one be burned before learning to stop lighting matches, Jess? She thought to herself as she hunched over her laptop. She noticed that even her own mind-voice was sounding extremely cynical. What a feat!
She tried to shake herself out of it. She reminded herself that she just managed to meet jerks. Somewhere out there, perhaps in a distant part of the world, perhaps right next door, someone felt just like she did. She could not give up on happiness or herself. Her sister, Maggie, would tell her to eat some chocolate. "It has some weird stuff in it that makes you happy," and then she would add with a suggestive wink, "it's also an aphrodisiac." Jess had to grin, even in irony, it was not like she would ever have call for such a thing. Not anymore.
She gazed at the picture on the shelf. She should have gotten rid of it weeks ago when Derek broke it off with her. He said he needed "space" and that he was tired of being "second" to someone like Jess. She shook her head sadly. He could have just come out and say the second horrible truth, too. He wanted to screw her best friend. What a pair. She hoped they were happy. Seriously, at least someone should be.
[ 3 ] Tech Support from Iceman
Back in New York, Kurt Wagner found himself downstairs. He knew he would probably get no more sleep, at least not for a couple hours, so he was going to explore, maybe head by the kitchen to get a late night snack. It didn't really matter as long as he kept his mind busy.
Before he got very far he heard muffled music coming from the living room. He padded down the hall and peeked inside. Bobby Drake, known as Iceman because of his mutant gift of turning moisture into ice, was slouched down into the comfortable cushions of the sofa, his feet propped up on the coffee table. He was mumbling to himself in the beat of the music, nodding his head with it.
Sensing himself being watched Bobby turned to look. Without hesitation he dragged the headphones off and smiled, "hi, Mr. Wagner. I didn't think anyone else would be up this late. I guess I'm not the only insomniac." He laughed briefly.
"I guess not." Kurt answered, stepping into the room. He had meant tonight's excursion to be a solitary one, but he had to admit he didn't mind Bobby's company.
Even though Xavier's school was a place full of warmth Kurt somehow felt out of the loop. They tried to make him feel welcome, and he knew that they did want him there, but he still felt as if he did not belong. His life had not yet woven itself into the threads of their entwined fabric. He felt like an interloper, on outsider.
He had spoken to Xavier about this. The Professor was a very pleasant individual and was very happy to listen to anyone's problems. He tried to help Kurt by talking with him a while. He said a lot of the students felt like that at first, but after a while would finally find a place here. It was a typical reaction to being the "new kid." Kurt had felt a little better, but was concerned on how long he would feel so out of place and disconnected.
"So what brings you down so late?" Bobby inquired, shoving his CD player into his bag for safe-keeping.
"I vas thinking, and could not go back to sleep." Kurt answered truthfully, and hoped Bobby would not pry into what he was thinking about. He didn't even want to mention them. Apparently Bobby was used to this, running into those who did not sleep well, because he seemed to know not to ask.
"Ah. Well, seems we're both in luck, running into each other. It gets kinda lonely around here sometimes, don't you think?"
"Very." Kurt had to agree, with just a little more touch of dejection than he had meant.
Bobby frowned. "I know that look. Still getting used to the place, huh? Don't worry. It's a little much at first, but once you get into the swing of things it becomes home."
"Vhy are you up?" Kurt asked.
Bobby turned back and pulled a computer up from beside him. "Work, well, actually I was surfing the internet, but I meant to be doing work. I have a paper due for Mr. Summers, but - - " He lowered his voice into a more somber tone, "- - I don't think he will remember. He has been out of it lately, because of Ms. Grey."
Kurt nodded, remembering the events that took the young woman from them a couple months ago at Alkali Lake. He wanted to steer clear of that topic, believing it to be a too recent pain, so he asked another question. "Internet?"
Bobby smiled.
[ 4 ] Renegade Angel
A short time later Kurt was perched in a chair in the computer lab. Bobby had went to bed, leaving the newest resident of the mansion to fend for himself, but not before setting him up with a means of keeping busy. The German now found himself in one of the many online message boards. He figured this would be easier than one of the chat rooms Bobby had showed him, especially because he was still trying to get the hang of typing.
First off he was just going to scan through some of the entries and see if there was interesting. One of the topics was "What do you think of the mutant problem?" Out of curiosity he chose this one. He wanted to know what others thought, and perhaps, he too, could put in a couple words.
There were three replies to the question so far, probably because it was a new post. The first was by someone called the CyberCynist. He or she took the stand that mutants were some kind of new evil and something had to be done about their existence. The second was by a young man named Gatekeeper99. He said the real issue was not with mutants but with normal people, although he indicated that he was human himself.
The third reply was the most fascinating of all of them:
REPLY TO: MUTANTS V. HUMANS?
TIME 2:23:34 A.M.
BY: RENEGADE ANGEL (jessithemusewickedrealm.com)
You are both wrong. Sorry 'Keeper, I know I usually agree with you here, but I can't this time. The way I see it is that the only problem with this human/mutant situation is that people have a problems with it at all. It is not about one group or the other. It is about humanity in general and how we react to certain things. Who knows why most humans have a problem with these genetic offshoots. We go around killing our own every day and people don't seem to care much anymore, but have a couple mutants hurt someone and they need to be eradicated from the planet. Maybe it's some weird superiority complex. It seems self-righteous to me. I think people need to look to their selves before shooting off their mouth or judging others. Mutants might be dangerous, but humans are as equally dangerous. (If not more.)
Kurt read the post twice, thinking as he did so. Before he even thought about what he was doing he had brought up an e-mail box. The cursor blinked temptingly up at him, daring him to go on. Go on and what? Contact her. Now that he was thinking about it the idea didn't seem as good as it did a moment before. Then again…
What would it hurt? Without another thought he dove into his project whole-heartedly and forgot all about being down, if only for now.