First Day
AN: I would have loved to have seen or even read about Kurt's first day, but since I couldn't (see or find anything story-wise) I had to write it. Well, ONE possible way for it to go, anyway, I'm sure if someone else had written it, they'd have been a bit kinder to Kurt. Not that I wasn't kind – hey, where y'all going?? I didn't mean it! Heh, okay, my note is over, enjoy.
"Hey, Kurt?"
Kurt's nightmares were halted as he was brought back to consciousness by a call from behind his closed door. He gasped as he woke and shot up in bed, like every other normal morning. His frantic mind replayed his horrific dreams, as his wide eyes stared ahead, trying to grasp his bearings. Panic overtook him for a few seconds at the sight he met. This wasn't his small, comfy room back home in Germany.
His memories rushed back to him, and he remembered where he was. In New York, thousands of miles away from his mother and father. Being away from them was difficult, he still hadn't gotten over his homesick feeling. Since he could remember, he had always stayed close to his parents, knowing they were the only ones that understood him. A flare of panic grabbed his heart whenever he thought about how far away from them he was. The people here at the institute were still strangers to him, he had never felt so uncomfortable in his whole life. If he could, he'd have taken a flight right back to Germany without a second's thought. But they had chosen this place for him; they told Kurt it would be the best place. And Kurt had always believed them.
His pure white eyes carefully observed his room. Very different to that back home, and something he would no doubt get used to before anything else. For five days now he had awoke to these walls and curtains. Five days and it still felt as awkward as day number one. He could hardly stand the politeness aimed his way by everyone. He just wasn't used to it. He was convinced they were faking it, to hide the horror and disgust they really wanted to express around him. But the Professor had assured him that everyone would get used to him, and he to them. The Professor, a man who Kurt had felt he could trust from the beginning, had been so kind to him. And as he had thought with the others, Kurt never once believed Charles Xavier was forcing his kindness.
"Kurt?"
The voice spoke out again, and Kurt had to take a second to realize whose it was. Scott, the older boy, was stood outside his door. After five days Kurt had learnt a few things about him, and felt for the first time what it was like to have friends. It was still hard to believe Scott wanted to be friends with him, but Kurt was slowing getting used to it.
"Kurt, you awake?" Scott knocked on the door. "Can I come in?"
Kurt stared at the door and found his voice. "Ja," he called, his throat clogged slightly from the night's poor sleep.
The door handle turned and Scott's face appeared around the edge. He saw Kurt was still in bed and opened the door fully. The older teenager was clothed in his usual civvies.
Scott opened his mouth to say one thing, but then paused and said another. "Hey are you okay?"
Kurt frowned and then looked at himself. His nightclothes were creased badly and twisted about his body, and his fur was a mess and soaked in sweat here and there from his nightmare. His bed sheets were as untidy as his clothes.
"Uh, ja," he answered weakly, avoiding Scott's eyes behind his shades.
The older mutant watched him for a second and Kurt immediately felt uncomfortable under his gaze, as though if Scott stared long enough he'd see just what a demon he was and scream. But he didn't. Even though his eyes were hidden, his expression was of a concerned one.
"It's your first day of school, buddy," Scott said carefully, leaning on the doorframe.
A fresh surge of panic raced through Kurt, filling him with cold dread. The Professor wanted him to get used to things and fit in as much as he could. Kurt had chocked when he had included school among these things. How could he go to school? The holowatch was temporarily forgotten, but when reminded, it still didn't make him feel any better. To be around so many kids was frightening, he had never been in a crowd before.
"Hey, Kurt, it'll be fine," Scott said, noticing his stiffening body and scared expression. He moved into the room to stand next to his bed. "Me and Jean'll be with you, don't worry."
He had already passed up on yesterday's school day because he had been too afraid, but the Professor told him he'd have to attend sooner or later, and he might as well start now before he became too scared. Too late for that.
Kurt nodded numbly at Scott's words, his eyes staring at the floor. Why did he have to go to school now? He had been home schooled his whole life by his parents, why was Professor X making him attend? Because he wanted Kurt to fit in, the man had answered; he wanted Kurt to feel like everyone else. That wasn't going to happen. Kurt felt isolated from everyone no matter where he went.
It felt like some horrific nightmare, another to add to the many that haunted him. It just didn't seem real when the Professor had told him Scott and Jean would take him to school. Did they not understand what a risk it was? The chance of someone brushing past him, feeling his fur, was too great at a place crowded like school. What excuses could he offer when someone wanted to shake his hand? Or when he passed something to someone? Skin contact happens as often as detentions in school – how could he ever live the day without a thing going wrong?
Scott turned to the door again as silence took over the room. "Okay, I'll see you downstairs in ten minutes." And he left Kurt's room, closing the door behind him.
Kurt stared at it, and horrible possibilities ran through his mind of his first day of school.
Breakfast was difficult to swallow. Kurt's throat wouldn't work, and the food seemed to taste different. The quantity on his plate seemed five times more than usual, and after only a few helpings he couldn't eat another bite.
"Kurt, relax," Professor Xavier soothed from across the breakfast table in his strong, calming voice. He noticed how quiet and still the boy was today.
Kurt gave a nod similar to the one he aimed at Scott a few minutes ago. He swallowed and continued to stare at the table, as though seeing a vision of his upcoming day playing in the polished wood.
Beside him, Scott gave the professor a glance. He was worried for the younger mutant. Jean caught his eye as well.
"You should eat some more, Kurt," Jean said kindly from across the table, locking her green eyes on his and willing him to relax. She glanced at his full plate.
"Yes, otherwise I'll take it you're insulting my cooking," Ororo said, walking into the room with a platter of sausages. She aimed a warm smile his way as he glanced in her direction. A flicker of a weak smile crossed his own features, and his eyes rested on his breakfast. He attempted to eat more, but another few mouthfuls were all he could manage. His lack of appetite seemed to affect Scott and Jean, who left a few spoonfuls on their plates at the end of breakfast.
"Well, we're off, Professor," Scott said, standing from his chair as Jean mirrored him from across the table. Kurt remained seated, feeling his breakfast squirming about in his stomach. Eyes had turned to him, waiting. He swallowed dryly again, looked at his plate, and rose slowly and shakily.
He was still shaking when Scott's red convertible came to a halt in the school parking lot. He made sure his holowatch was still operating; scared to death it was going to short circuit. He placed a hand over it; his heart racing so fast he was surprised Scott and Jean couldn't hear it. Surprisingly they hadn't kept glancing at him on the journal there, but kept their eyes a little too focused on the road.
Scott turned the engine off and pocketed his keys. He opened the door as Jean opened hers. Kurt had been sat in the middle of the two, since both he and Jean were small in build they could fit in the front seat.
He was breathing deeply now, trying to calm his fear and racing heart. Jean held the door for him to climb out, but he remained seated, staring at the streams of kids ahead, walking through the entrance doors to school. He realized he was gripping the seat, and only when Jean softly called his name did he take his eyes off the many humans. He looked up at her. Her beautiful features were framed by her brilliant red hair, which shone brightly in the morning sunshine. She would have had no trouble fitting in on her first day. In fact Kurt was sure every guy in her grade would have wanted to become friends. His now normal blue eyes found her green pair and for a second he stared, begging her to get back in the car and take him home. She even had the ability to know what he wanted at that very moment, but she would not read his nor anyone else's mind without permission. Kurt very much wanted to give her permission just this once.
"C'mon, Kurt," she said softly, a gentle smile on her lips.
He exhaled and looked at his five-fingered hand. People would see nothing but a normal, new boy with indigo hair. Perhaps they might stare at the hair, but it was practically normal next to Jean's bright color. He glanced at his watch, and slowly climbed out of the car.
And he suddenly felt dangerously exposed. He was stood like he had always stood on his elongated hind feet, and there was nothing but a hologram to hide it. His tail tightened its grip on his left leg, where it was curled away, protected from view by his actual clothes and the holowatch's image. He could not stop himself from shaking.
His eyes had drifted to the students again, watching them with dread. A hand on his shoulder made him jump, and a small gasp escaped him.
"Hey," Jean soothed, surprised a little by his reaction. "It'll be fine, trust me." She smiled and glanced at Scott, who was still stood next to his car door. Kurt glanced at him, and then back at Jean, aware she could feel him shaking.
"I'm fine," he said weakly and totally unconvincingly.
Jean squeezed his shoulder. "If anything happens I can cover it up in an instant," she reassured, hoping it would help his nerves.
That was true, Kurt remembered Jean promising him she would use her powers if need be, and it did feel a little better knowing any incident with the holowatch could be 'forgotten'. But he just wouldn't be able to take it seeing people's reaction in the first place. It was what he feared most.
"Are we ready?" Scott asked, walking up to them both.
Jean looked from him to Kurt for the answer, and the younger nodded bravely. She and Scott smiled, and the trio began walking towards the school building.
With every step his heart rate increased.
Students were still filing through the doors, laughing and smiling, talking and joking. By the time they had reached the top of the stone steps leading to the entrance, all other kids had disappeared to their classrooms. That was when Kurt's bravery ran out.
He stopped dead just as they had climbed the last step, and stared at the entrance doors. His heart was pounding so fast his chest ached. His fear was so strong it took every ounce of will to remain stood where he was and not teleport away. His hands were gripping the straps of his bag over his shoulders so hard that they would have turned white had his holowatch allowed. His breathing was fast and shallow.
Both his older friends turned to him, frowning.
"I – I can't," Kurt breathed, as though he had been running.
"Kurt, listen, it'll be okay," Jean said, walking back to him, mentally scowling herself for having repeated those words too much this morning. He seemed to dislike her approach and stepped back cautiously. His expression was a blank, but his eyes shone with terror. Jean felt a tug on her heart. "Nothing can happen if you don't let it," she tried again, stood about an arms length from him. "You can do this."
His chest was heaving, and she could hear his breathing. His eyes were darting about from her to the building behind, to Scott and to the end of the building again. It seemed any second now he was going to lose the only bit of strength he had to stand there and teleport away. Something that would be seen quite clearly from the school. Jean slowly started forward again, hands out slightly as though she were going to catch him if he ran. He didn't. She closed the gap between them and gently took his shoulders in her hands. He was shaking violently, and she was seriously wondering whether he would throw up right then.
"It's okay, Kurt," she said again, looking down at him, steadying her gaze to his. He was still glancing about. She placed her finger under his chin and turned his head towards her. His eyes found hers. "I know you've never been to a school, and you don't know what it's like, but you have to trust us . . . it'll be O-Kay." Jean could actually feel his body vibrate with every heartbeat. She was surprised she couldn't hear it. "I'll keep a mind on you at all times. You can talk to me telepathically – I'll be with you . . ." She smiled. "There's nothing that can go wrong, Kurt."
She seemed so sure, and yet at the same time she was nervous. Kurt could tell. He looked at Scott as though the oldest would confirm what Jean had told him. He received a warm smile from his friend and a nod; shades flashed in the morning sun.
Kurt swallowed, sweating under the holographic image of his normal self. He stepped forward, and paused again. Jean was smiling encouragingly, one hand wrapped around his arm gently. Scott was waiting patiently, even though he knew all three were late.
Kurt's legs were no longer obeying him, they seemed to be obeying Jean and Scott's wishes that he enter the building. He didn't actually command them to move, they were just walking numbly. It was as if Jean was controlling him, but he knew she wasn't. Kurt, with Jean guiding him and Scott holding the door open, walked into the building.
From the second story window, a figured stopped watching and turned to meet her Principle duties of the day.
Inside was a labyrinth of corridors. Kurt had never been inside a school in his life, and had only glimpsed this world from the TV. It all looked the same, he was afraid he would lose himself . . . if he lasted long enough to do so. But he was equipped with a quick get-away ability, and had estimated the distance from there to the Institute. It was probably just under two miles, and he would be able to make it. It would strain him terribly, but he would be away from here.
He was so caught up in his get-away plan that he hadn't realized all three had stopped outside a door. The older teens turned to him, and he found himself looking up at them. They suddenly seemed so much taller, yet farther away than ever.
"I'll wait out here," Scott said to Jean, who nodded.
The redhead looked back at Kurt and smiled. "I'll come in with you."
Kurt took a look at the sign on the door. It read Principle. Obviously he had to report here first.
"To get your timetable," Jean added.
She knocked on the door and all three waited a second in silence until a snappy-voiced call invited them in. Jean turned the handle, walked across the threshold, and held the door for Kurt. Scott watched and waited patiently after the door was closed.
Principle Darkholme pushed her glasses further up the brim of her nose and peered through sharp, keen eyes at the two teenagers before her. She closed the folders on her desk and laced her fingers together, regarding her guests through the reflective glass of her lenses.
"Ms. Darkholme," Jean began respectively. "This is Kurt Wagner, the new student."
Those sharp eyes flicked to Kurt, looking him over. The coldest chill ran down his spine, and he felt frozen to the spot. The way she was looking at him unnerved Kurt, as though she was staring straight past the false image and was looking at the real one.
"Welcome, Mr. Wagner," she said, mispronouncing his German surname and sounding a little too cold to mean her greeting. Her voice was deep and strong, and Kurt immediately got the impression she wasn't one to cross. She pulled a few papers towards her and glanced at them. Her eyes rose to his again, and held them in place. "I see you're from Xavier's Institute."
Maybe it was Kurt, but he detected a hint of disapproval in her tone . . . maybe even disappointment. Perhaps she didn't like Xavier's lot; maybe she didn't like Xavier. After all, Professor X had some influence over the school board, didn't he? Or had Kurt heard wrong?
"Here is your schedule for the semester," she continued, pulling from her pile a sheet of paper, on which was printed a table and small details he couldn't read. She held it out across the table for him, and he hesitantly stepped closer and reached for it, taking it between his thumb and forefinger, shaking uncontrollably. He looked up from the paper at her face and saw that her keen eyes were staring unblinkingly at his hand. He quickly looked down at it, sure he was going to see blue instead of flesh color. But no, his watch was working perfectly, so why had she been staring at it as though she was seeing something other than what was there? He took his gaze from his hand and it rested on her face again . . . she was watching him eerily. Another chill ran up his spine. Her eyes had locked onto his, and a long second passed before she let go of his schedule and he stepped back quickly, staring at her.
"Any problems, I'm sure your friend here, or outside, will assist you," she said, never taking her eyes off his as she sat back. "Enjoy your time at Bayville High," she added, ending the conversation. Her eyes followed both as they exited the room.
"Hey, you weren't long," Scott said as his two friends walked out of the Principle's office and closed the door. He had been leaning on the wall with his hands shoved into his pockets. Any impression of a Leader was missing in his stance.
"Yeah, she was short," Jean answered as they began walking away, "probably busy . . . or just not in the mood to be dealing with students so early." She looked down at Kurt. "Actually, she's hardly ever in a mood to be dealing with students." She gave him a smile.
They moved down the empty corridors to the ground floor, and, after checking Kurt's schedule, headed towards his first classroom. They stopped at a door between the locker rows, and the two older mutants turned to Kurt.
"This is where you'll be," Jean told him, injecting her effective calm tones into her voice. "Your teacher'll tell you what to do – any help, just contact me telepathically."
How he was supposed to do that, Kurt didn't know. He wasn't the telepath, how was he able to communicate to someone in a different room? His heartbeat was making his body shake again. He had never known such nervousness.
Scott placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled comfortingly. "You'll fit in fine, your teacher's really nice." He was worried how much the younger boy was shaking. He was sure he had never shook like that before.
Kurt swallowed. His breakfast was squirming about again, his heart was pounding painfully, and he was sweating underneath both his cloths and the holowatch's image. His eyes caught sight of Jean's hand reaching out to grasp the door handle, since he wasn't about to anytime soon. He was aware of her other hand resting on his trembling shoulder.
"I'll introduce you to your teacher," she told him. She was already twenty minutes late for her own class, but she would be as late as she had to be to help Kurt through his first day. Her red hair fell over her shoulder as she turned and guided open the door after knocking twice.
The teacher was in direct view from her desk at the front of the classroom, and her head turned to her guests.
Jean had to push Kurt gently through the door, and she smiled at the teacher as they walked through it and into the room. She felt Kurt's shaking turn irregular now, it seemed his energy to shake was beginning to fade, yet his body continued to try.
The stares were like hundreds of weights hitting and hanging onto Kurt, weighing him down, making him want to curl up protectively. Every pair of eyes in the room was on him, he could feel them; he had good senses. His felt like he was about to hyperventilate any second now.
There was a hum somewhere in his head, a drone that he barely registered. Visions of his image inducer going on the fritz were stealing his awareness away, and he had to forcefully pull himself out of them. As he did so, the humming because recognizable as a voice, and he realized the speaker was Jean. She had just introduced him to the teacher, who looked down at him and smiled kindly. He was unable to return it.
"He's shy," Jean excused his lack of response. The hand that was on his shoulder tightened reassuringly as she inclined her head slightly to his ear and said, "I have to go. Don't worry, you'll be just fine." Then she added telepathically, just call me through your thoughts if you need me.
Kurt had never had anyone enter his mind and talk to him before, and the experience was surprisingly calming. Actually, he suspected that Jean did that bit deliberately, but having someone speak in his head that wasn't his own voice didn't feel as strange as he thought it would.
The strand of cascading red hair at the corner of Kurt's vision withdrew as Jean backed away and turned to exit. Kurt remained frozen, barely hearing the sound of the door clicking closed over his own heartbeat. His breathing was short and sharp, like a petrified animal facing a predator; his entire frame was vibrating again. This was a nightmare.
The teacher – his teacher – welcomed him to the High School, and then introduced him to the rest of the class. A few murmured Hi while the rest continued to stare like he was an alien. Compared to them, he was. A few glanced at his blue hair, as the teacher pointed out a seat to him at the back of the room. He almost didn't hear her, having being caught back into his horrific daydreams. And when he made to move over to the lonely chair and desk, he found he couldn't move. He was frozen with fear. His legs would not obey him.
"Are you alright?" The teacher asked, her eyes concerned as a few students started mumbling among themselves about previous topics. "You're shaking something terrible. You don't look well – " and she moved towards him, raising a hand to feel his cheek.
"Nein –!" He gasped as he leapt a pace backwards, arms out ready to stop her as if she was going to charge.
The teacher drew back her hand, surprised by his reaction and his response. "Nine? Oh – I see," she remembered where her new student had come from. "You're a bundle of nerves," she smiled forgivingly at his actions. "First days aren't as bad as you think."
And she allowed him to go to his seat and took attention away from him by announcing morning news, which he was extremely grateful of. He had never felt so nervous in his life. He would have thought he had never felt as scared either, but that wasn't true. He remembered fear a lot stronger in his past.
Kurt sat at his desk, on the edge of his nerves and his strength. It took all his might to resist the urge to unwrap his tail from around his leg and let it snake about in nervousness. He was so used to doing this, it was like a human chewing on their finger or messing with their hair.
Glances aimed his way throughout the class, making his heart pound stronger each time. Some smiled at him, others merely looked him up and down without an expression and turned back. He wanted desperately to disappear. So many horrible things ran through his head – so many things he would never have thought of before, such as: Did the Professor want to humiliate him like this? No one would ever have sent someone like Kurt to a school, was Professor X's intentions to help him false? Was Jean watching through his very eyes, feeling his every fearful heartbeat and doing nothing to sooth him? Hadn't he been through enough torture in his life?
His shaking began to calm down as the end of the class came near, but of course he didn't know when it finished. He hadn't glanced at his schedule since he had shoved it in his new bag when he was given it. So when his sharp senses told him there was movement about him, he pulled himself out of his thoughts and saw people standing up and gathering their things. He panicked. What were they doing? Where were they going?
"What class do you have next?" Came a voice from his right.
It was because he was weak with fear that he didn't gasp in surprise. A boy with a cool and calm nature about him stood looking at Kurt, invading Kurt's personal space, which had grown to about five meters this morning.
Kurt had no answer. He opened his mouth, and then quickly closed it, thinking this person would see his fangs. But no, the image inducer concealed them.
Voices from the open classroom door called over to the stranger, and the boy turned to acknowledge them. He returned his gaze to Kurt's.
"Well, you'll find it on your schedule," he said, his voice expressionless but not cold. "See y' around." And he turned away and walked off.
Kurt stared, and then glanced about. The classroom was almost empty, and he hadn't even left his seat yet. He reached for his bag just as his new teacher came over.
"How did you find your first class?" She asked curiously, perching herself on the edge of the adjacent desk. Her brown eyes watched him uncomfortably, but how was she to know her gaze made him want to run?
Kurt found his voice after a few attempts. "Different," he managed to say, his accent heavy. She seemed to like his German dialect because she smiled, and Kurt could see nothing else to smile at.
"Good," she said, observing him like an older would observe an amusing child. "If you need any help, don't be afraid to ask. We may look scary, but we're really alright," she chuckled.
A smile crept onto Kurt's face, something he managed without any effort.
He had fished out his timetable by the time everyone had left the classroom, and had been pointed in the right direction to his next period by the teacher. Once at the door, he looked at the crowded corridors and stepped back in fright. There were so many people . . . all rushing about, all jostling each other and pushing past. There was no way he could reach his next room without being touched.
No, everyone was so busy with something else no one would notice . . . would they? If someone's hand brushed against his they would not feel skin, but would they realize it was actual fur . . . ?
But he couldn't stay there worrying. He had already gained the teacher's attention yet again, and she would think him weird if he kept freezing everywhere.
His breathing was back to being short and sharp. He wanted so much to go home . . . but he wanted to be normal, and maybe this was his chance. It wasn't like he had a choice; Professor X told him he would have to attend school some time or another, and Kurt couldn't keep running away. He had to face his fear to conquer it . . . or so the Professor said. Had he known what Kurt's traumatic past was like, he would not have been so quick to say that.
Kurt had hoped – actually prayed – to see Scott and Jean while he was making his way (very quickly) to his next classroom. He scanned the masses of students for a flash of red shades, or the glimmer of red hair. No luck. And he didn't want to try the telepathic communication because that would make him seem wimpy and scared . . . well he was scared to death, but he was now also determined to manage everything himself.
His determination disappeared in second period. His teacher, who he hadn't even remembered the name of, was wrong. First days are as bad as he thought, especially if you were a demon-look-alike trying to fit in. The second class was all it took to prove this.
His foot had just entered the room when his hidden elfin ears picked up the word 'German'. Immediately his temples throbbed with the fast beat of his heart and he stared down at the floor, aware of eyes fixated on him, convinced those eyes were the ones who had spoken. He carefully walked across the threshold with one hand grasping the strap of his bag over his shoulder, and avoided meeting anyone's eyes.
But he couldn't avoid the teacher, who repeated Kurt's first teacher's way of introduction by announcing to the whole class that there was a new student among them. The teacher was male this time, and as a personal welcome, he held out his hand for Kurt to shake.
Kurt stared at it, feeling his breath catch in his throat. Suddenly it seemed one of his nightmares was being thrown at him. He wanted to be normal, yet a simple thing such as this was something he could not do. He could not touch this man's hand with his own, and so he could only stand there, pleading something would happen to take him away right then. Nothing did, and the man's hand lowered, his eyes watching Kurt's face for some sign to explain to him why he could not reach out and meet his own hand. Perhaps this student was extremely timid.
The entire class was frowning at Kurt, muttering things to each other that Kurt couldn't hear, but became all the more nervous of. His tail almost uncurled from his leg, begging to be free, but he restrained it.
But his torture wasn't over yet. The adult asked Kurt to stand up front and say a few things about himself. He looked as though he felt this would help Kurt's nerves. But oh, was he wrong.
Feeling even more singled out with his accent, Kurt said as little as he possibly could. But the teacher threw questions at him just as he thought it was over. He had to tell the entire class where he was from, what things he enjoyed, why he had moved. This one he had to think carefully about. He thought about telling them he had special talents that Xavier's Institute could help him improve with, but they would ask what those were, and Kurt had no made-up answer for that. So instead, he lied and told the class he wanted a better education and Bayville was recommended, and since Xavier was an old friend of the family's, he was sent there.
It satisfied the teacher, who ended his questions and allowed Kurt to choose a seat.
With his cheeks burning, and the feel of more heavy stares, Kurt made his way to one of the empty desks at the back and sat down, feeling sick. He would have done anything to have been with Jean and Scott – the only people who he knew in this place. He wished he could say he trusted them as well, but Kurt had problems involving trust to those he didn't know well. Well, at the minute his two new friends were the only ones he could rely on, anyway.
Lost in thought again, he hadn't realized the class had started, and he should have been paying attention. But now as he looked up, he was startled by a hand in his face. He jerked back, his indigo bangs flying about his head.
The boy in front was smirking at him, apparently pleased with what he did. He was holding his hand out to Kurt in the way the teacher had for him to shake. Another kid to the right of this boy was sniggering too, his head twisted to watch.
"Don't ya wanna shake my hand?" The first boy teased in a mocking tone, his hand still held out. His voice was low and quiet, unheard by the teacher.
Kurt breathed heavily, sensing trouble from these humans just by looking at them. He remained silent, his own hands held back against his shirt.
"I think this German dude thinks we all have rabies or something," the guy's companion spoke, quiet enough to evade the teacher's ears.
Kurt's mind and heart were racing. His nauseous feelings increased, a sign from his body telling him he was too scared, leave now. But he couldn't.
And then his hand was grabbed. The action was so quick, even Kurt's quick reflexes couldn't have activated and reacted in time. The boy had leaned over and grabbed his hand, intending to crush it just to prove he was intimidating. But before he had begun to do so, his eyes darted to Kurt's hand, and his sneer was replaced with wide eyes and a bewildered frown. Kurt's eyes widened also, but his eyebrows rose in sheer horror. There was a split second of motionless time that passed with the boy's hand still grapping Kurt's, before Kurt recovered from his shock. With a cry, he yanked his hand free with too much force and his chair tipped backwards, he fell towards the floor, gasped as he realized he was falling, and teleported just before he hit the carpet.
The boy shot to his feet with an alarmed shout, knocking his own chair back and gaping at the empty, fallen chair. Many stares joined his, watching the remaining purple smoke evaporate into the air.
Instantly, the image of the classroom was replaced with the corridor outside of the first room he had sat in. His pounding heart felt like it was bout to burst, his tail had finally freed itself from his leg and was thrashing about, he felt so scared – and it wasn't over. A scream ripped through his eardrums and he spun frantically, and out of breath, to find he had teleported next to a couple who had been skiving class to be with each other.
Both of their mouths were open, their eyes wide – just like that boy's only a second ago. They gawked at his tail, shocked. Kurt couldn't take their stares. He had disappeared again behind a sudden puff of smoke to a place he had barely caught sight of in the corridor: the Boy's Room.
It was empty, the dull bluish walls were scribbled on here and there, but there was no one to stare at him. He dashed out of his smoke cloud and into the corner of the room, where he fell to a seating position, hugged his knees, wrapped his tail around himself and shook with uncontrollable spasms. His muscles were beginning to ache painfully from all his shaking, his head was ringing with the echo of the scream; he felt so torn up inside that it hurt. The unfairness of his life ate away at him now his defenses were down. He couldn't stop the pain; his heart ached.
He had tried. He had tried to act and be normal, but after just an hour it was over. An HOUR. He was not meant for normality, it was obvious – something didn't want him to fit in, someone somewhere was torturing him.
Gasping through gritted teeth as another violent spasm shook his body, he opened his palm and looked at one of his hands: normal looking because of a false image. But it could not cover what was underneath. Kurt moved his fingers, and watched as four fingers moved as two pairs. That was something the image inducer could not change.
Kurt lowered his hand, closed his eyes and leant his head against the wall, taking a deep breath in the hopes it would help his shaking. He wanted to hear some comforting words, or to try and reassure himself, but he couldn't. Instead his mind took him back inside the classroom he had come from. The boy who had touched him would probably be gawking at Kurt's empty chair, and stuttering about how he had disappeared. Everyone in that room would be mystified as to where he had gone . . and how.
Opening his eyes, Kurt looked down at his watch on the hand that was fastened to his other around his knees. He lifted both and hovered a finger (or two) over the button that would deactivate the holowatch. He wanted to see his own color, yet he was so disgusted with his appearance right now that he was surprised he did.
Before he could, the door across the Boys Room was opened. Kurt's heart leapt to his throat and he jumped to his feet, frantic once again. He had almost teleported before he recognized the face of the boy who had entered.
"Kurt!" Scott said, sounding worried and almost as frantic as Kurt himself. The older boy hurried across the room. "What went wrong? Are you okay?" He had wrapped his hands around Kurt's trembling arms, almost like he didn't want Kurt to flee. Kurt found it both a gesture of a concerned friend, but an intimidating action also. He felt trapped now.
Kurt shook his head, refusing to meet Scott's eyes – or shades – and looked everywhere else. He didn't want to talk about it, but he knew he'd have to.
"Kurt, tell me," Scott insisted. The feel of Kurt's shaking body was worrying, and Scott felt terrible for something he didn't even know about yet.
Kurt's eyes were moving about a spot on the floor feverishly. His breathing was loud as he had closed his mouth and could not inhale as much as he needed. But he gave in and spoke.
"Somevon –"Kurt began, hearing his own voice sound very different, "touched my hand," he continued. "I – I – I fell und I 'ported into zuh hall – but zhere vere more people outside – so I teleported here."
Scott studied him, his eyebrows raising and scrunching together in sympathy. The way Kurt spoke made him feel worse for the boy. He seemed so upset, yet his actions weren't reflecting it. It was as though he was too traumatized. Scott noticed Kurt's tail was loose, and wondered if anyone saw that as well.
Two or three seconds passed as Scott watched his younger friend before he said, beginning with a sigh, "Jean found you, with her mind. She said she'd keep a watch on you . . . she knew something was wrong, so we hurried here." He explained. "She's outside."
Kurt listened, but he continued to stare at the floor, swallowing as though trying to keep himself from being sick.
"Vill I have to go back?" He asked, his tone quiet and his voice uneven, as though he had been crying and the effort to stop effected his speaking.
Scott frowned. "Back where?"
"Back to Germany? . . . . Because I can't fit in . . . ?"
Scott's face broke into a gentle smile. "No way," he said softly. "The Professor won't send you back just because of this. It can be sorted out easily."
Kurt's dancing eyes glanced at Scott's before returning to their pacing across the floor. He was still going through the unfortunate incident in his mind.
"C'mon," Scott said, "Jean's waiting outside. Let's see if she's erased that memory from everyone's mind."
Kurt looked up this time, a small, curious frown on his still upset features. "How can she do zhat?"
Scott smiled again. "She can locate anyone's mind, pick up thoughts and read them. She'll know who it is who saw your teleporting."
Kurt felt a little of his fear ease. At least no one will remember what happened . . . no one but him.
Scott let go of Kurt's arms and put on hand on his back, about to guide him to the door. But Kurt didn't move. He didn't want to go back out there.
"It's okay, Kurt, no one will remember a thing," Scott assured him.
Kurt's painful frown was back on his face, and he was staring at the door, as though watching the incident.
"I vill . . ." he whispered.
Scott watched him. "Kurt, I know its not going to be easy to get over, but you have to put it aside and try again. You can fit in here . . . all it takes is time."
Kurt couldn't help but doubt Scott's claim that he would eventually fit in.
It took a few more coaxing words from Scott to encourage Kurt to leave the Boy's Room. With his hand still on Kurt's back, he emerged form the doorway and into the corridor. Kurt's body became extremely tense as they walked out.
Jean was by the door, stood with her hands by her side, watching the end of the corridor to the right. She turned her head as Scott returned with Kurt, who she walked up to and placed her hands on his shoulders. Her smile was there, warming him as her green eyes held his. With the light from the door at the end of the corridor behind her lighting up her outline and making her hair glow, she seemed like an angel. Kurt was surprised at how quickly he felt himself calmed by her appearance.
"It's okay," she said before he could speak – not that he was going to. "I've seen to everyone's minds . . . no one remembers anything. It never happened." Her smiled radiated warmth.
Kurt smiled back, though barely. He wondered why such kind people had become his friends – and then realized, for once, how lucky he was.
"Your teacher thinks you took a trip to the bathroom," Jean told him. "So you should hurry and get back to class." She said it so kindly, but a sudden cold jolt ran through his chest as though she had just stabbed him.
"Go back?" He repeated in disbelief. He couldn't go back into that classroom – it had scared him too deeply.
"You can do it," Jean said, nodding once. "It'll take time, but you'll learn to fit in."
Like this morning, she sounded so sure, so confident. But unlike earlier there was no trace of worry in her voice. It was as though she had seen the future of his stay in Bayville, and knew what would happen. He wished she could do that, then he would know how many mor nightmarish days he would have here.
"I don't zhink I can," he breathed. "I can't go back in zhere . . ."
Jean's expression never changed. "Yes you can," she replied, as though he had merely asked her the time. "You just gotta find your bravery, and then you'll be fine."
Kurt didn't think she knew exactly what he had just been through. But she did; she had just wiped it from everyone's minds. So why did he have to go straight back into class? He just couldn't . . . that boy who had caused everything was a table in front. Kurt pointed this out, timidly, to Jean.
The smile that had momentarily gone returned. "Don't worry about them, I took care of it."
Kurt's brow creased ever so slightly in curiosity. However, he still did not want to go back into that classroom.
A minute later he was outside of his classroom.
"Don't worry, we're here," Jean said comforting, keeping her voice low, so the people inside the room couldn't hear. "We're only around the corner – and don't forget to contact me telepathically for any reason. And you better tuck your tail back out of sight," she added with a small grin.
Kurt nodded wordlessly, swallowing again and again, trying to wet his dry throat as he made sure his tail was wrapped out of view around his left leg. He felt Scott's hand on his shoulder again, and they both moved away from him, waiting for Kurt to go into the room. He turned, reluctantly, and gripped the door handle. With a deep breath, he twisted it, opened the door, and walked inside.
Jean and Scott watched the door close, glanced and smiled at each other, then turned and headed back to their own classroom, thinking up an excuse to explain why they had dashed out of their room.
The stares were there once again; Kurt felt his heart return to that painful beat again. But the occupants in the room only looked up at him for a second before lowering their eyes back to their work. The teacher caught his eye and smile as Kurt made his way back to his desk. No one had any clue that he had left the room by teleporting. No one knew that their minds had been scanned and edited.
Kurt's bag was still there where he had left it at his desk, where his chair was upright behind it. That boy who had grabbed his hand was still in his place. Kurt approached cautiously, his eyes staring at this guy in case he would try to show any other acts of intimidation by means of touch. But the boy's eyes rose as Kurt neared, and he gave a smile and returned to his work.
Sitting himself down, and trying to calm his racing heart, Kurt looked at the paper that had been placed on his desk, and scanned it. He picked up his bag, as silently as he could, glancing around as he routed through it for a pen. When he found one, he put his bag down, shifted his chair forward to his desk, and brought the pen nib to his paper, hovering it over the sheet. He was writing with just two fingers, and it didn't make his handwriting very neat. But, glancing at a neighboring desk, the girl who was writing wasn't too neat herself. Kurt turned back to his paper, feeling a little better since entering the classroom.
The period ended three-quarts of an hour later, which was signaled by the movement of everyone around Kurt. As everyone was stuffing their things into their bags, the boy in front of Kurt turned around in his seat, and immediately Kurt's heartbeat begun to increase. This was the guy who had caused all that trouble not even an hour ago, and Kurt liked him less that when he first saw him.
The boy lent an elbow over the back of his seat and regarded Kurt as though he was speaking. His gaze made Kurt extremely uncomfortable, who was ready to grab his bag and hightail it out of there.
Then the boy said, "So you're from Germany, huh?"
The plan to get away as quickly as possible was forgotten as Kurt stared at him. His tone was completely different to how he had first spoken to Kurt. It was genuine curiosity.
"That's cool," the boy continued. "I like German accents."
And with that, he grabbed his things and left his table, leaving Kurt to stare after him.
The hum of Professor X's wheelchair entered the foyer as the powerful telepath rolled into the middle of the room, directly in front of the great staircase, a few meters from the door. He interlaced his fingers and waited patiently for his three students to return home from school. He didn't know whether to be worried for his newest student's first day of school, or pleased he had actually remained there for the entire day.
Scott's red convertible pulled to a gentle stop outside the door, and the sound of two car doors being slammed shut met the Professor's ears. He watched through the glass door as three teenagers climbed the steps towards the entrance, the smallest in the middle. Jean's hand was on Kurt's shoulder, her head lowered as she talked to him. Kurt's expression was something Xavier couldn't read, but he felt his heart jerk slightly. It didn't seem a happy face to him, nor did it seem upset. Scott's expression seemed to hold the answer. He was smiling slightly, glancing to his two friends as they finally reached the doors. He held one open for Jean and Kurt to walk through.
Now that they were only a few meters away, Professor could see their faces clearer. Jean was speaking things of encouragement and comfort to Kurt, who was staring down. It looked to the Professor like a bad day for the new teenager.
But for once he misread their expressions. Jean looked up, aware now that Xavier was waiting for them to return. She smiled at him.
"Everything alright?" The professor asked, glancing from the only female to the youngest mutant.
"Yeah," Jean answered, and smiled down at Kurt, who had glanced up to her face. He returned the smile. "There were a few little incidents, but we covered it up easily." Her hand still on Kurt's back, she gave it a warm rub. "Kurt just needs to get used to it all, and he'll see how easy it is for him to settle in. He can do it."
"Of course he can," Charles said, filled with pleasant relief. He smiled at Kurt, who caught his eye and then looked down. Professor X could tell something had happened that had upset him, but there had been other things to make up for it. Perhaps Kurt would feel up to telling them of his entire day at dinnertime later on. "So Kurt," Charles directed his light voice at the young man. "How did you find school life?"
Kurt looked at him, glanced at both Scott and Jean, and then answered, "Different."
It had been scarier than he had imagined, the classes were strange, the people different to those in Germany, and the teachers had been unnervingly nice. Yet it felt so . . . normal.
"Very different," he added. "But I zhink I'll like it."
AN: Hey y'all, thanks for reading. That's it, my little one shot at a glance into Kurt's first school day. I say a 'glance' because I think it would be too boring to stretch it out to the full day. Now, I got other one shots to cook up evil glint