WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SCENES OF VIOLENCE AND CHARACTER DEATH. VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.


Chapter Eight

Charles Xavier had long been renowned as the world's foremost telepath. Needless to say, he was familiar with the workings of individual minds and how to safely navigate his way through their myriad thoughts, desires, and memories without losing his own identity and purpose.

But, even with all his vast knowledge and experience, Xavier found he was unable to shield his psyche from the raging chaos that had overtaken Kurt's mind.

Noise, light, color...they whirled around and through him like shapeless ghosts, stealing his breath, his focus, rushing by him in raging gusts that left him reeling and off balance. Flashes, faces, spinning—laughing, screaming, gentle, terrified, cold, cruel, furious, anguished, shining with love... Each face carried a memory, powerful sensations of loss, sorrow, guilt...

Xavier gasped and struggled, fighting to pull himself out of the crushing throng, to rise above the swirling colors. Voices came from nowhere and everywhere, a cacophony of languages, songs... And still, the screaming specters pummeled him, laughing, knocking him back, then forward, then to the side, pressing tight against him then vanishing into nothingness as, suddenly, he felt himself falling...

Whirling landscapes and buildings, mountains and fire and blackness, dank dungeons, bustling cities, quiet rooms. The light of the sun and stars, the chill of the pale moon, incredible heat and biting cold assaulted his senses, twirling him dizzily like a leaf in a hurricane until he had lost all sense of direction.

Disembodied, terrified, Xavier curled his psychic self into a protective ball, squeezing his arms against his ears as he laced his fingers tightly behind his bald head. A strange prickling, tingling sensation crept along the edges of his mind, like a million tiny insects crawling through his fracturing mental shields, forcing them wider, wider... Xavier's eyes flew open in horror, his mouth stretching until the delicate skin of his lips nearly broke with the strain of his silent scream. He was lost, alone; trapped in the mind of a madman with no body to ground him, no thread to lead him back out of this terrible, fragmented labyrinth. And still he fell, his shields crumbling away, his sense of identity growing weaker as Xavier realized he truly could lose himself...forever...

A whisper through the shadows...prodding him to deepen the link...to follow the trail of pain...

All pretense of rational thought left him. Without any consideration for the potential danger to himself or to Kurt, Xavier instinctively gave in to the whispers, the need to deepen the mental link until he felt his host's body pulsing around him. The heartbeat was fast but steady, the breathing slightly labored but regular. There was pain also, astonishingly intense—a burning, biting, stinging ache—but it seemed distant, muted by the painkillers Hank had administered.

Xavier forced the host body to fill its lungs, to release a deep, shaky sigh. Now he had a body to steady him, the creeping tingle of encroaching madness quickly faded, allowing Xavier to come back to himself; to recall his identity and his purpose.

"Kurt's hand," he whispered, following the physical pain to its source. "The genetic manipulation. I was hoping to find out who was responsible. I was trying to discover what had triggered that change in Kurt's hand."

Xavier smiled to himself, relieved how quickly he seemed to be recovering from his near-fatal experience. But, his shields were weak, and his weren't the only thoughts he could hear. The subconscious mind is a busy place, crowded with thoughts, memories, dreams... This voice seemed to be calling, beckoning him specifically, but Xavier knew that was just his imagination...

The voice he heard was soft and deep; the patient voice of a teacher. It spoke in German with a subtle, foreign inflection Xavier could not quite place. He had never heard this voice before, and yet he knew at once who it belonged to. It was the voice of Sabu, Kurt's childhood mentor and the closest thing he'd had to a father while growing up.

Xavier closed his eyes and concentrated on the soft voice, only one among dozens of others chatting and singing and crying and laughing. He followed the voice like a guiding light, carefully loosening his link with his host's body as he moved deeper and deeper into his unconscious mind.

The light came from a large, multicolored tent hung with brilliant flags. Similarly colorful posters invited spectators in three languages to come see the Great Sabu perform his death-defying acrobatic feats without a net.

Xavier tilted his head slightly, regarding the cloaked man on the posters with some curiosity. He stood in a dramatic pose, tall, lean, and dark with intense, coal-black eyes and wavy hair to match. His neat, pointed goatee and mustache lent him an eerie, sinister air. Looking at the drawing, Xavier was reminded of an illustration he had once seen in a book of fairy tales; an illustration of an evil sorcerer.

The muffled voice came from within the tent. Curious, Xavier pushed the heavy tent-flap aside and walked into the enormous, popcorn-scented space beyond.

A short, burly man was sweeping litter out from under the stands. He gave Xavier a suspicious look, then nodded him over to the center ring. Xavier nodded back, making his way to where the burly man had indicated. There, an even shorter, hunchbacked man was examining the safety net with the eyes of a concerned professional. He glanced up to the small, square platform high above, and Xavier followed his gaze.

Two shadowy figures crouched there, one large, the other small. A trapeze was hooked to the support pole within easy reach of the two figures. Another hung still and motionless over the net from the darkness at the very top of the tent.

It took Xavier a moment to recognize the larger figure as the man he had seen on the posters outside. Out of costume, the Great Sabu was far from sinister. His shiny hair was tousled and his intense eyes kind as he looked down at his much younger companion; a small boy, perhaps three or four years old...

"Don't worry," Sabu said in his deep, patient voice. "The net is here to catch you. Just remember what I taught you and keep your mind on the task ahead. There is nothing to fear, my child. Once you find the courage to take this first leap, I know you will make us all proud."

"And then I can fly?" the dark little boy asked with a slight, childish lisp, flashing his large, white teeth in a broad, excited smile. "Like Margali said?"

Sabu laughed, a warm, affectionate sound.

"It is very like flight," he said. "But it is more a feeling of freedom, of liberation. You will no longer be bound to the ground; you will become a creature of the air, of grace, and of beauty. There is no feeling to compare, you will see. Now, why don't you give it a try, yes?"

The small boy rose to his feet, his golden eyes wide and glowing. But, as he carefully unhooked the large trapeze, his short, stubby tail wrapped itself nervously around his mentor's arm.

Sabu smiled, then gently unwrapped it.

"I think you'll be needing this, don't you?" he said.

"That's mine," the boy announced, pulling his spaded, indigo tail from his mentor's hand and lashing it back and forth a few times. Taking a deep breath, he took hold of the trapeze with both three-fingered hands.

"Sabu?" he said, looking to his mentor. But, Sabu was no longer there.

Xavier gasped, suddenly realizing he now stood where Sabu had been, high, high, high above the ground. He sat down at once, his fingers curling tightly around the edge of the platform.

"Oh, Professor!"

Xavier looked up to see Kurt Wagner grinning down at him, no longer a child but a young man. Xavier stared despite himself. Kurt looked just as he had when he and Xavier first met, long ago, when the talented acrobat had been little more than nineteen years old...

"What are you doing here?" the young man said. "Have you come to see my last performance?"

"Oh...erm...yes," Xavier said, keeping his eyes on Kurt's face to avoid looking down. "Yes indeed."

"Das ist wunderbar!" Kurt beamed. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate this, Professor. Sabu came all the way from Russia just for this show, did you know? He is going to be my partner."

Kurt blinked a few times, lowering his head as his smile took on a melancholy tinge.

"They're all... They're all really sorry that I'm going. I wish I didn't have to."

He clenched his fist, his golden eyes glowing angrily as he said, "But there is no way the Incredible Nightcrawler will ever become a part of that verdammt Amerikaner's freak show! Jardine may have bought our circus with his Texas millions, but he doesn't own me. And that's why Amanda and I are going away, right after this performance. Who knows...perhaps we can start our own circus, ja? In America, no less."

"Perhaps," Xavier echoed, though his attention was no longer on Kurt. A movement had caught his eye, a flash of red... He scanned the shadows, searching for the malevolent form he knew to be there.

There! Two glowing, yellow eyes peering from the dimness at the top of the tent. Squinting his eyes, Xavier could just make out the cloaked intruder's silhouette, his long, spaded tail wrapped around the sturdy ropes and wires that held the second trapeze securely in place. The sinister figure grinned straight at him, but before he could warn Kurt, there was a flash of steel and Xavier's world dissolved into blinding, white light.

A thousand cheers assaulted his ears...a band, playing far below...

Xavier cautiously opened his eyes, to find himself standing in mid-air at the exact level of the trapeze. The stands were filled to capacity, the excited spectators overflowing into the aisles and almost out of the tent as they craned their necks to get their last look at the Nightcrawler's act.

An act to be performed without a net.

Kurt stood on the platform with Sabu, the two men smiling as they shared a warm embrace. The older man's hair was longer now, grayer, as was his beard, but his eyes...his eyes were just the same.

The spotlight turned on the two acrobats. Gradually, crowd hushed and the dramatic drum roll began.

Sabu clapped Kurt heartily on the back, then broke their embrace and raised a hand to the crowd. The seasoned acrobat grasped his trapeze, watching intently as a man standing on the far platform...Sabu's son, Chester...threw the second trapeze out to swing freely through the air.

Timing his movements carefully, Sabu climbed up onto the second rung of the ladder running through the center of his own platform and jumped off, building momentum as he swung until he released the bar and curled his legs in a perfect double aerial somersault before catching hold of the second trapeze and gracefully pulling himself up into a sitting position.

As the crowd burst into applause, Kurt grabbed the swinging trapeze and climbed up to the third rung of the ladder, watching carefully while Sabu twined his legs around the ropes of his own trapeze and let go of the bar to hang upside down with his arms outstretched, ready to catch his star pupil. He smiled at Kurt, a proud twinkle in his dark eyes as he watched him prepare for the jump—

Sabu's trapeze gave a shuddering lurch, twisting dangerously as he swung through the air. He tried to reach up for the bar, to steady himself, but the trapeze lurched again, more violently this time.

A loud SNAP, and then Sabu was falling, crying out as he tumbled through the air toward the hard ground far below.

"NO!" Kurt screamed, his young voice breaking as he teleported instantly to his mentor's side.

But...too late. Sabu landed with a horrible, sickening sound, his body twitching as it bounced with the impact, then skidded to a stop through the sawdust-littered ground. Kurt fell to his knees beside him, shaking all over as he screamed in horror and denial, tears streaming from his golden eyes. He touched his mentor's shoulder, Sabu's blood staining his furry, blue hand...and his eyes widened in a horror of a completely different kind.

Everything froze, the surrounding world lurching to a complete halt as Kurt stared at his hand.

Xavier found himself suddenly at his side, watching his numb expression as the young man shook his head weakly in mute denial. The red stain was spreading, creeping from his palm to his fingers, five red, taloned fingers...

Kurt blinked, flexing each finger in turn, unable to believe that they were his.

"Nein," he whispered, his trembling voice barely audible even to Xavier. "Nein, this is not right. This can not be right!"

The red was spreading up his arm now, his short, fuzz-like fur falling away as a sudden, chill wind began to blow. It rustled through Sabu's wavy hair, changing the course of the small trickle of blood leaking from the corner of his mouth, down his pale cheek...

"No! It is not possible!" Kurt screamed, leaping to his feet as they too began to change. A pair of blood-red leather boots appeared below a sweeping, russet cloak as the young man backed away from his mentor's still form. "Not another death, Belasco, bitte! Not another friend!"

He turned away in anguish, unable to face Sabu any longer. His long cloak swirled behind him as he pressed his one hand to his streaming eyes, his shoulders shaking with violent sobs.

When he spoke again, his voice was different than it had been before. It had grown deeper, harsher, his formerly pronounced accent little more than a faint inflection.

"How can this be my fault!" he snarled. "I did not kill Sabu! I loved him! I loved him!"

Xavier stared at the distraught demon before him, not quite sure what to do. The transformation was complete now, all the way to his sharp horns and crimson hair. Yet somehow, Xavier could still see Kurt behind the demon's yellow eyes, as a faint shadow softening Belasco's hard features.

It was to him that Xavier finally spoke.

"Kurt," he said softly, inching closer to the sobbing demon until he stood at the periphery of his line of sight.

The russet-skinned man turned on him, his golden eyes glowing dangerously despite his tears.

"Charles," he hissed with a sneer. "What are you doing here? No, wait. Don't tell me. You've come to offer your assistance? Your sympathy perhaps? Or maybe you've just come to try to convince yourself that I am, indeed, Kurt Wagner."

"Is that who you believe yourself to be?" Xavier asked in the same calm tone he'd used before, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the demon's face.

The demon scowled angrily, his sharp fangs gleaming in a way that made Xavier feel distinctly uncomfortable.

"Get out of here," he growled. "Leave me alone!"

"I don't think that's what you really want," Xavier said. "You want answers. Answers only I can help you find."

The demon's eyes widened, then he snarled, his one hand reaching for the hilt of his sword.

"You smug, sanctimonious bastard!" he roared, his eyes flashing with hatred. "Your clever little mind games won't work on me. Not anymore. So, take your know-it-all speeches and your holier-than-thou attitude and get out of my head! I don't need you, and I do not want your help."

"But you do, Kurt," Xavier said gently, taking a half step closer to the fuming demon. "Otherwise, why would you have come back to the mansion after all this time? What could you possibly have been looking for, if not yourself?"

The demon stared at him for a long moment, his expression hard and unreadable. Then, he spun on his heel, his cape billowing out behind him as he strode off into the growing blackness.

"Kurt!" Xavier called after him, stretching out an arm as though that would halt his progress. "Kurt, I don't want to trick you! I don't want to hurt you or use you or trap you. I came here to find out the truth about what happened to you. I believe the answers are here somewhere, but you and I both know that neither of us will be able to find them alone."

Kurt's angry stride didn't break, but Xavier knew he had heard him. He sighed, his heart aching as he tried one final time to reach his former friend before he disappeared entirely.

"Kurt," he said, his voice soft and sincere. "I—I realize that I've used you in the past, and there is no excuse for that. I know there have been times when I abused your trust and your love. I know you have no reason to trust me now, and I'm not asking you to forgive me for what I've done. But, I care about you, Kurt, and I do want to help you. You can't know how much it hurts me to see you in such pain—"

"How much it hurts 'you'?" Kurt repeated incredulously, stopping in his tracks and turning to face the Professor once more. "How much it hurts YOU?"

He laughed; a cold, angry sound, his long tail lashing behind him as he spoke.

"You have no idea what true pain is, my dear Professor," he sneered darkly. "You know," he said, a thoughtful tone to his voice, "you are one of the most selfish, self-centered creatures I have ever met, and I have met many. And, you are right. I have no reason to trust you. You are an unwelcome intruder into my private thoughts, Charles, and - for the record - the intrusion is not appreciated."

"I understand that," Xavier said, raising his eyes to meet Kurt's. "And I will leave if that is what you truly wish. But I will not abandon you. Your struggle is my struggle, Kurt. You don't have to fight Belasco alone."

Kurt blinked for a moment, caught off guard by the Professor's sincere words. But, his scowl quickly returned.

"Belasco may be your enemy," he snarled, "but he is my problem and his actions are my responsibility."

"Granted," Charles said, taking a few steps closer to the malevolent figure glaring at him through the shadows. "But how did he come to be your problem, Kurt? Why should you have to carry the guilt of his actions in your heart?"

"Because..."

Kurt turned his head, closing his glowing eyes in a futile attempt to block out the Professor's presence.

"I wasn't strong enough to stop him," he whispered through a tight throat. "I just lay there in the dimness of my own mind and let him take over."

He frowned, his brow furrowing in self-loathing, mingled with strong defiance.

"But, not anymore..."

He opened his eyes and strode forward, closing the distance between himself and the Professor.

"I will not be manipulated again," he growled. "Not by you, not by Belasco, not by anyone. While it is true that I do not know how this happened to me, I do know that this body is mine, and I mean to have it back just as it was."

"And I am offering to help you do that," Xavier said, letting the larger man see the truth in his eyes. "It is clear that we both want the same thing, Kurt. But, to accomplish anything, we are going to have to work together."

Kurt narrowed his eyes at Xavier, his expression suspicious, yet lacking the cold animosity of before.

"I will consider it, Professor," he said at last. "Now, leave me. And I warn you, the next time you enter my mind without my consent, I will not pull you out of the midden mire. Belasco is easily awoken, and I am not ready to face him quite yet."

"The midden mire?" Xavier repeated, confused. Then he remembered the chaos that had met him when he first linked with Kurt's mind, dragging him down until he nearly lost himself to the swirling madness.

His eyes widened as he looked up at the russet-skinned demon, seeing him in a new light.

"You saved my life."

Kurt looked at him, expressionless.

"I did."

Xavier's lips twitched into a small smile.

"Thank you, Kurt," he said warmly, clapping the taller man on the shoulder. "Thank you."

Xavier withdrew from Kurt's mind, leaning back in his wheelchair and opening his eyes. He was still smiling when he looked up at Ororo.

"You were right," he said to her, his smile widening at Scott's confused expression. "You were right, Ororo. He truly is Kurt Wagner. And he does want our help."

To Be Continued...


Reference: Sabu's demise is based on the events seen in Excalibur #-1, Flashback: A True and Terrible Sacrifice. In that story, Belasco was responsible for the horrible death of Kurt's mentor.

Note: This chapter is directly related to my story "Small Steps, Great Leaps."