A/N: Again with the review overload! This is awesome, I love reviews! (Mom claims my head is swelling like a balloon and that all this praise is probably terrible for my ego, but what the heck.) ;p

Before I get to the story again, PLEASE READ THIS NOTE. You may not care, but I'd like to get it out in the open. I have only read about 10 issues of the comics. They were in my Dad's comics collection, and we've moved since I read them, so I only got him to excavate them very recently and I haven't had a chance to read them all yet. Kurt was in all of those issues, but the image inducer was ony mentioned in a couple. At the moment, my entire knowledge of X-Men is limited to those 10 issues, approx. 2 seasons of X-Men: Evolution, the two movies, and whatever I can get my hands on at Mutatis Mutandis (an X-Men website I just found within the last 2 weeks that, thank god, has loads of useful & detailed information). The rest of it, I make up off the top of my head. I have always loved the idea of Nightcrawler, though I may not have read much of him. I have taken elements from each of my few sources and combined them in whatever way fits to the story, and in the case of the story itself, I am only trying to keep good continuity with the movies -- I'm not even attempting to stay true to the continuity of the comics or cartoons (too many obssessive fans'd come after me with pitchforks and torches if I got the comic story-line wrong, I'm sure.). Therefore, whenever some of the other X-Men show up (Banshee, Sunspot, Shadowcat, or whoever), or any other characters I feel like including, they will probably not be in a proper timeline with the comics, and their personalies may vary wildly from whatever they're like in the comics. I will try my hardest to keep Kurt in-character with the way he's been portrayed in other media, but PLEASE do not flame me if he has any slight personality shifts. I'm being fairly lenient with most of the characters' personalities. The movies are my template; the other sources are only reference material.

Again, some specific replies:

Zoken: Unless this story spins wildly out of control, there will be no romances except for possible mentions of KNOWN romances in the movies, i.e. Rogue/Bobby & Scott/Jean. (No, Gambit will not suddenly show up and steal Rogue away from Iceman, thanks very much.) I find the idea of pairing Kurt & Storm just because they might've looked twice at each other to be ridiculous. Nightcrawler needs a friend in this bizarre new place; Storm just happens to have been the only one to share more than two 5-second-long scenes with him in the movie. Hence, friendship.

Zaron of the Red Moon: Yeah, I'll pobably use the watch idea instead of the funky little palm pilot-looking thingie from that one issue of the comics I read that showed it.

arin: He did? Huh, that was a happy accident, then. Well, cool!

sneeksie: Exactly -- hence why I wanted to write this story. The way Kurt treats his image inducer in Evolution reeeeally irks me.

starfish: THANK YOU! I honestly have no clue what I'm saying when I start putting German in here, which is why I'm trying to avoid it as much as humanly possible... I know Babel Fish does very literal words-only translations of things, so the grammar and aesthetics are complete mysteries to me. I've gone back and changed the phrases in the last chapter already. Thanks again!


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III. Faith Seeking Understanding

Kurt slept poorly the next two nights. He recited the entire rosary twice in a row, an act of desperation more than faith; he resisted boredom by teleporting to the ground from his window and exploring the grounds and a little way into the woods. He ate little, only going into the mansion's kitchen when all the children were in class or asleep. The self-imposed solitude almost bordered on paranoia by the end of the second day of avoiding all human -- or mutant, rather -- contact.

It was nearing sunset, and the sky outside was fading to darker shades of orange. Kurt, moving silently down the hall from his room, had just paused and glanced out the window when a red-clad movement caught the corner of his eye. Without thinking, he instantly fell into a low crouch, whipped his tail around himself protectively, and teleported back to his room.

Scott Summers jumped, startled, at the sudden implosion of air from further down the hall. He hadn't even noticed anyone there, but the sound (which could only be described as a sort of bamf) was too distinctive not to recognize. Frowning at the strange mutant's furtive actions, Scott shook his head and turned back to the stairs leading down into the lower levels.

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Kurt had found himself back in the middle of his room, dangerously close to the bed. Shaken by his completely instinctive, uncontrollable reaction to a single moment of irrational panic, he stared at the alarmingly solid mattress in front of him. He could easily have teleported inside it -- and he wasn't at all sure what would have happened if he had. Did his mass displace the mass of the other object, or would the mere act of trying to place two things in the same place at the same time simply destroy both of them? It was better not to experiment.

The edge of the mattress was four inches away from his face. It started to blur as he stared at it.

After several minutes had passed and he'd regained a modicum of composure, Kurt slowly stood up and backed away from the bed. This strange behavior towards other people was making him nervous. It wasn't like him at all -- and it had happened so spontaneously; just after he'd come to the decision to ask for the image inducer...

Every time he thought about it, the more the image inducer sounded like salvation. But he shook his head, knowing that it was only a dream, a nagging, poisonous dream he'd had for his entire life: to look human, to look normal. He couldn't let himself be consumed by his desire for acceptance. He was who he was, and outward appearance couldn't change that true self.

But then again, he was nothing if not the product of his upbringing. The denial, the whispers, the strange looks... and throughout it all, his ongoing wish to please people, to ease pain. It pained him to realize that by never allowing anyone to see him in daylight in the circus, he had only been denying himself in order to make others' lives more comfortable -- exactly as he was doing now.

There was a small decorative mirror over the oak dresser, there for aesthetics and nothing more. Kurt had paid it no mind until this moment; but now he chanced a look at himself, something he did very rarely. By instinct, he glanced away quickly as soon as he set eyes on his own reflection.

Stop doing that. Look at what you are, not what you want to be.

Shaking his head, Kurt looked back into the mirror once more -- blue skin, lingering shadows, fangs, pointed ears, yellow eyes, strange tattoos -- his reflection stared back at him in all its mutated glory.

He suddenly wished it would just stop. It was so tiring, all this hiding, all this persecution, discrimination, senseless hatred...

But it wasn't the right way out. It was an easy way out, of course; painless, simple. The image inducer could make this path out of hardship possible, if he just kept it on all the time, never teleported again, and left this group of X-Men' behind him. But the simplicity was only on a surface level -- underneath the hologram, he would always be blue and fanged. To choose the path of complete self-denial would be to lose the only thing he had left, now that his life had been turned upside down -- his faith.

Putting a hand to his neck absently, he couldn't help but remember Ororo's offer for him to visit her classroom. The prospect of facing people again was nervewracking, but the longer he thought about it, the more convinced he became that it needed to be done -- for the sake of his sanity, if nothing else.

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As soon as he saw me, he teleported out of sight. Are you sure he isn't up to something, Professor?

I know everything that goes on in this mansion, Scott. Kurt is harder on himself than he'll ever be on us.

Scott sighed. Of course, the Professor had to be right -- he always was -- but the blue mutant was just too stealthy and evasive for comfort. As the designated leader of the X-Men, Scott had always felt obligated to take care of the kids at the mansion, and if anyone here, guest or not, posed a threat, his first thought was inevitably for the students more so than for anything else.

Maybe I should go talk with him... Ororo offered, a little uncertainly.

Give the guy some time, Storm, Logan said, defending Kurt's wish to be alone. I know where he's been, and I know he doesn't need to be nagged about it.

That's what I'm talking about, Scott told Logan. He's been handled by the same people you were -- what if some of their influence is still lingering with him? Arguing with Logan was almost instinctive for Scott, and vice versa; Ororo sometimes found their territorial alpha male bickering to be nearly unbearable. She sighed as she recognized that particular disapproving tone in Scott's voice, as he continued -- And even if it isn't, what do we really know about him? There's no way to prove that he isn't dangerous.

Logan took his feet off the table in front of him and stood up, glaring at Scott. You heard what the Prof said, One-eye. The kid's not gonna hurt anyone. What happened to St. Cyclops of the Unconditional Tolerance? Isn't that what your whole X-Man act is about?

Stop, both of you, Professor Xavier said sharply. They shut up at once, though Scott's attempt to look contrite failed miserably, and Logan scowled more deeply.

said the Professor. You were under the same mind-controlling agent as Kurt. You don't feel any lasting effects, do you?

No, sir, but we don't know how long Wagner was held by Stryker, and his different physiology --

-- has absolutely nothing to do with it, Xavier interrupted sternly. Scott, I thought I taught you better than this. Kurt's actions while under Stryker's control are nothing to condemn him for, and neither is his appearance. You yourself have a visible physical mutation -- think of how it feels to be forced to hide your eyes all the time, constantly living with the fear of hurting someone. Kurt is forced to hide his entire body.

Scott glanced down, truly apologetic this time.

The Professor then turned to Logan, noting the smug expression on his face. And you, Logan. The X-Men have always been about unconditional tolerance -- it is not an act,' and it's certainly nothing to be made light of.

The tone of the Professor's voice made Wolverine's self-possessed look fade back into a scowl. He crossed his arms stubbornly, but said nothing.

As for talking to Kurt again, Ororo, Xavier went on, the sternness relaxing from his voice, it will be done, in time... but for now, he has his own demons to overcome, and he needs to do it by himself. I'm sure Kurt had learned not to give much thought to his looks until the incident with the President. He was chosen for the attack because of his demonic appearance; Stryker wanted to give mutant-kind a face that people could easily fear. Kurt realized this, on some unconscious level, and that realization has led him to question everything about himself, even his faith.

Been probing his mind? Logan asked, unimpressed.

Xavier sighed. Only as much as necessary. I had to be sure I wasn't introducing a hazard into the school.

This time it was Scott's expression that was smug as he glanced at Logan. The shorter man narrowed his eyes threateningly.

Ororo noticed the signs of another impending argument between the two, and decided she'd had enough. Oh, don't start, she said in an annoyed tone, making Scott and Logan both turn to look at her at once. She rose from her seat without giving either of them a second glance. If you'll excuse me, Professor, she said levelly.

Of course, Ororo.

Turning to leave, Ororo felt a brief pang about walking out in such a disagreeable manner; still, until Scott and Logan stopped their subtle battle for control, there wasn't much point in listening to either of them. Losing Jean only seemed to have fueled them to fight harder and more often...

Jean. Ororo closed the door behind her and leaned against the wall of the corridor. Though it had been several days since Jean's death and most of the initial shock had worn off, the wound of her passing was still open and painful. No one mentioned her name much these days, though she was on everyone's mind. Thinking about Kurt helped Ororo avoid thoughts of her lost friend; with Scott and Logan, she suspected that the territorial battle served as much the same sort of distraction.

Recovering herself, Ororo shook her head and moved off down the hall towards her classroom, where fourth period's papers were still waiting to be graded.

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Dawn, and the sunlight burst bright across Kurt Wagner's bare back, showing up the deep, rich shade of his skin, which was usually so heavily shadowed that it looked almost black. He was sitting upright on his bed, having barely slept two hours during the night -- and that only in scattered twenty- and thirty-minute intervals. He glanced out the window as the sun broke free of the horizon and was nearly blinded by the light.

He ran his hands across the raised symbols on his face and chest, feeling their meaning the way he had felt the pain of the incisions.

Today, he told himself. It had to be today, or never.
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A/N: Again, giant hugs and thanks and chocolate to everyone who reviewed! (For those of you who aren't reviewing, the cat's getting restless... *Patented Evil Raised Eyebrow Look*) I've finally got the story completely mapped out, so if nothing goes awry, there should be a total of exactly 6 chapters. Chapter 4 will hopefully be up in another few days, a week at the most. Read on, Macduff!

You are getting veeeery sleepy.... you are watching the little blue Go button.... you are clicking the little blue Go button... c'mon... you know you want to...there is no spoon...