Down Time
"Guten Morgen, Kassi!" came a cheerful voice.
"In wie Fern gut, bittesehr?" Kassandra muttered, as she trudged back into the Xavier Mansion after a most unusually disappointing morning run. She hoped that resuming her runs in the early morning solitude would help her sort through the events of the past several days. It failed, miserably. She wanted to get away from anyone that might feel sorry for her. She wanted shoulders to cry on. She couldn't decide what she really wanted, and this confusion further darkened her mood.
"Well," her friend continued in German, "I was wondering if you'd like to have breakfast with me, and then after that, maybe a bit of fencing?"
Kassandra stopped. "I'm sorry, Kurt. I suppose I would like that," she said, with a wry smile, "but it feels like I just can't enjoy anything the same way anymore."
"Ich verstehe." Nightcrawler put an arm around her and steered her toward the dining room. "I wouldn't expect you to enjoy anything the same way again after what you've been through. Rather, you will find the same things you've enjoyed before take on different meanings, and you may appreciate them differently. Perhaps even more."
"I know that," Kassandra sighed, leaning her head on Kurt's shoulder and choking on the tears that escaped her dark eyes. "I already appreciate you differently and more. There!" she added, now smiling through her tears, "I'm making progress already, nicht wahr?"
Kurt smiled gently as he and Kassandra loaded up their plates and found a table. He was not empathic, much to his relief. It was difficult enough for him to deal with his own grief and see his dear friend hurting so badly, without experiencing the profound depth of her pain on top of that. He resolved to do all he could to make things better, set his tray down, and with his prehensile tail, pulled Kassandra's chair out for her. She smirked as she sat. A small success.
Kassandra had hopes that she'd be one of the all too few that would enroll at the Xavier Institute with no more difficulty than that of any other eighteen year old leaving home and starting college. Unlike most the people who ended up there, she was raised by parents who knew all along and didn't mind a bit that she was a mutant. Most of the others there were rejected, betrayed, or abused by their families. Some, like Nightcrawler, were rescued from mob violence. A few envied Kassandra, with her loving family and relatively normal life. No more.
Any hope that Kassandra Altheim would enjoy a normal transition into college life was shattered completely only about four days ago. She arrived from Namibia a few months ahead of schedule after the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants murdered her father, tried to kidnap her, took her parish priest and an entire police force hostage, and compelled her to tap into her powers in new and alarmingly violent ways. Now that she had a little time to recover, it was clear that her adjustment to life at Xavier Mansion would be no easier than anyone else's.
"Liebchen, bitte iss etwas!" Kurt urged Kassandra, who was picking at her eggs. "It isn't sporting to defeat a hungry opponent."
"Then you'd better eat well, mein Freund," Kassandra retorted, finally deciding she had an appetite after all.
Nightcrawler put the music on. It had been a habit now for Kurt and Kassandra to train to music. It helped them maintain the right frame of mind, and made each of their bouts look and feel more like a beautifully improvised pas de deux, with blades. Soon, a haunting, romantic melody pealed out over the flow of broken chords.
"Beethovens Mondschein Sonaten?" Kassandra grimaced as she entered the Danger Room. "Not the best music for fencing."
"Until the third movement, Liebling," Kurt replied, "Meanwhile it's perfect for what I'm doing now."
"Was ist das?" Kassandra asked, knowing well that he was setting up to deliver another signature round of silly and maddeningly flirtatious compliments. Unlike most at the Xavier Institute, she thought Kurt's desire to join the seminary was noble, rather than strange. At the very least, it only made sense to her that a good Catholic man would consider all his options. However, she didn't think he'd last a minute in the priesthood.
"Well, just admiring the view," he smiled, pulling on his customized three-fingered gloves and looking upon her in a way that made it clear that he was referring to her. Indeed,her white jacket and knickers fit her graceful, petite, slender form well and set off her milk chocolate colored skin, deep brown curls, and wide black-coffee eyes. But it wasn't just that this one of few who could hold her own against Nightcrawler also looked very attractive. Kurt noticed for the first time as she pulled on her gloves and mask, that though she never cared very much about clothes, she wore them with authority.
"Ach, du!" Kassandra's face grew hot.
"So, what weapons, today?" Kurt asked. "Foil? Epee?" Kassandra was quite clever with those blades, and could, on occasion, beat him with them.
Kassandra surprised him. "Nein, Kurt," she said, cuing the music to the sonata's third movement.She picked up a sabre and saluted. "Today I'll win with your favorite."
She engaged, and quickly impressed him. She parried all of his attacks strongly and successfully. While she could not get a single point, neither did she allow him any. Nightcrawler retreated and switched hands. Of course, he had taught and encouraged Kassandra to fence equally with both hands. She switched hands, as well. Now the sabre was in her left, her weaker hand. But her parries and ripostes were no weaker. And now she was throwing in counterattacks and flying lunges, forcing Nightcrawler to give ground. Fantastisch! It looked like she might get in the first point. But he also noticed something was not quite right.
Missing was the smile, the riffing on all of Kurt's favorite swashbuckling movies, the lighthearted banter Kassandra usually employed when the two friends practiced together. Instead, she adopted stony silence, unusually aggressive attacks, and a grim scowl.
"Time to lighten the mood again," thought Kurt. The first time he tried this maneuver with Kassandra, she doubled over and rolled out of the lines, overcome with rapturous laughter, and he won by default. He retreated, wrapped his tail around the grip, and then attacked, taking his hand off the grip in mid-lunge. Kassandra seemed unfazed. She parried and retreated. But she did smile. And he got her talking again. Another small success.
"Ungerecht! Das darfst du nicht!"she protested. "That's got to be below the waist."
"Nein, Kassi." Nightcrawler made a big show of folding his arms while engaging and attacking with his tail. "As long as I'm not attacking below your waist, this is perfectly legal."
"Only because the rules never took us mutants into account." Kassandra counterattacked.
Nightcrawler took his sabre back into his hand. "Which means there's no rule against me doing this," he replied, teleporting behind her. Kassandra knew it was only a matter of time (and a lot of practice on her part) before he'd consider her ready to handle a mid-match teleportation, so she anticipated it. She whirled, retreated, and parried.
"And I guess that means," she retorted, "that there's no rule against me doing this!" Here she stepped out of time and slowed it down. Here, outside of the normal flow of time, nobody could catch her. Here, she could steal Nightcrawler's tempo and completely disengage.
"Touche," said Nightcrawler, as the transparent blur which had been his friend dealt a smart rap to his shoulder, then collapsed into his arms.
"Logan, Scott, come in! Please sit." said Professor Xavier. "Jean, Hank, and I just got your mother on the phone, Kassi. Adimu," he said into the phone to Kassandra's mother on the other side of the Atlantic, "I'm sorry to call you at this time. We just received some news, both good and bad, that we need to share. Jean?"
At this point, Dr. Jean Grey took over. "Kassandra, it seems that your unauthorized use of your power helped us confirm what's going on and what to do about it. If it weren't for Kurt's quick action in teleporting you to the infirmary, we might not have caught it. Everything you've suspected about your hibernation, as you've called it, is correct. Dr. Altheim," Jean said to her mother, "you were right when you said that even when Kassandra is outside of time, she is still subject to hunger, thirst, fatigue, and aging. We've confirmed that the things we've observed, like the changes in her sleeping habits, heretofore unexplained spikes in appetite, and yes, her blackouts and occasions of deep coma are all part of a biological safeguard. Outside of time, her biology continues as it normally would. When she steps back into time, her body, even her aging, slows down almost to a complete stop until time catches up, almost like suspended animation. If this didn't happen, she could step out of time, then die of hunger, thirst, exhaustion, or even, theoretically speaking, old age in an instant of our time. And it would certainly cause what would appear to us as premature aging."
"So," said Dr. McCoy, "Part of our objective is to help her learn her limits-"
"Hang on a second, furball," interjected Wolverine, "If all you're saying is that her time-tripping puts her out of commission and that she's not allowed to do it, then what's the point of all of this?"
"-after," the Beast continued, with a shaggy blue eyebrow cocked in Wolverine's direction, "we minimize the medical risks."
"This is where you come in, Logan," Jean explained.
"So a stem cell transplant from an accelerated healer is a possibility?" Dr. Altheim asked.
"Not only is it a possibility," said Beast, "but we have found two matches: Sabretooth, and you, Logan."
Kassandra gaped in horror.
"Sabretooth," Beast continued, "will donate willingly enough-"
"So he and Magneto can manipulate me!" Kassandra exclaimed. "Nein, danke!"
"Precisely," said Beast. "That's what makes Logan the best candidate."
"But, but-" Kassandra stammered, "Logan, your adamantium!" The idea of anybody trying to drill through the indestructible metal that plated Wolverine's bones just to ease and prolong her life appalled her.
"Relax, kid." Wolverine patted her shoulder. He'd done things even more drastic to protect the kids at the school, and he wasn't about to make an exception for his Little Elf. "I said I'd help."
"And I won't have anyone vivisecting any Logan clones just to make my life a little easier," Kassandra insisted.
"Kassi" said Dr. Altheim, "You know none of that is necessary. There are other sources of stem cells, even in non-mutants. But quick healers have a constant and plentiful supply of uniquely adaptable stem cells in their bloodstream, ready for use wherever and whenever they're needed, am I right, Dr. McCoy?"
"That's right," said Beast. "Now, Kassandra, you know overhauling your immune system like this won't be easy."
"I know, I know," replied Kassandra, "Three days of chemotherapy, quarantine, throwing up, and all that. I can handle it."
Dr. Altheim laughed in spite of herself. "So you have indeed been reading my medical journals!"
"And," Jean added, "as this hasn't been attempted before, we don't know how any side-effects will affect you. And Kassi, don't bother looking ahead to see. If you consent to this, you'll need to save your energy."
Kassi waved her hand dismissively. "If Logan's willing, if it enables me to better use my abilities, and if it will help others down the road, let's go for it."
All said their goodbyes. Jean, Beast, and Wolverine then headed to the lab.
"Something's very wrong, Kassandra," said Charles. "You aren't just mourning your father and adjusting to your new environment. You're afraid of something, aren't you?"
"Ja," she conceded.
"Something you saw in our timelines?"
"Just a glimpse," replied Kassandra. "I was only trying to beat Kurt in fencing, but it was so big I couldn't help noticing. Something terrible is shaping up, for all of us. It's still a few years down the road, so I don't know what exactly will happen. And even if I did know, I don't think we can avoid it. The only thing I can think of is for me to get as much of my studies out of the way as possible beforehand. Onkel Charles, would it be all right if I used my down time to get ahead on my psych assignments?"
"That won't be a problem," Charles smiled. "I happen to also have in mind giving you an extra assignment. Some of the children have been reading The Chronicles of Narnia over the summer. Perhaps you could explain to them the 'muddle about time' better than Lewis did. But we also have a more immediate concern, right?"
"John Allerdyce called me yesterday," said Kassandra. "He said he wanted to get together, try to patch things up, and discuss a cure for my hibernation problem. I told him no thanks."
"Well then, it's quite simple," Charles replied. "Scott, Kurt, keep a close eye on Kassandra for the next few days. Jean, too. It seems that Mr. Lehnsherr hasn't learned to leave you alone, right Kassi?"
A black car pulled off of Graymalkin Lane into the driveway of a sprawling estate. A single figure, carrying a briefcase, got out, walked up to the door, and then entered the house. She then strode to the infirmary with the determined stride of a woman who held a girl's future in her hands. Oh, yes. Mustn't forget to scrub, too.
Voices led her to the room. Two girls, talking about guys.
"So I hear you're over Johnny," said one.
"Quite," whispered the other, grimacing. "Not that he was never good to me. I mean he did put me off dating bad boys altogether."
"Anyone new?"
"Not unless Piotr's got an identical twin brother! Well, now that Scott's finally twisted Kurt's arm into leaving and getting something to eat, well…actually, Kätchen, I really can't tell right now."
"Oh, come on! Wait, Kassi, are you okay?"
The woman arrived and saw the patient overcome with apparent faintness, and a girl swathed in blue scrubs sitting at her bedside. And Cyclops, at the door.
"Jean!" he said, reaching out for her. "Is everything ready?"
She stepped away from him. "Oh, sorry, Scott," she stammered, a full syringe now in hand. "I just scrubbed. Yes, everything's ready."
"Except for one thing," came Kassandra's voice, with renewed strength. "That's not Jean."
The woman lunged toward Kassandra, barely evading a stunning optic bolt from Cyclops. "Hold your breath!" Shadowcat warned, phasing herself and Kassandra through mattress and the floor below. The needle drove into the mattress. A second bolt sent Mystique crashing unconscious into the wall. Cyclops grabbed the syringe and ran to the lab as fast as he could.
"Mystique's here! Lock the school down!" Shadowcat cried, as she and Kassandra plunged into the room below. She landed and started running, half dragging Kassandra along with her. Oh, thank God, there was Kurt on his way to the dining room.
"Kurt!" Kitty yelled, "We've got a problem. Get Kassi to the lab, now!"
"Ja wohl!" Nightcrawler said, as he scooped Kassandra up in his arms and teleported out.
Kitty Pryde remembered all too well how she arrived at Xavier Mansion only a few years before, and hoped for Kassi's sake that the Hellfire Club would not share the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants' interest in her.
Jean had just finished preparing Wolverine's cell culture for transplant, when Nightcrawler teleported into the room, carrying Kassandra. "Is it ready?"
"Maybe not!" Cyclops shouted, running into the room and handing Jean the syringe. "Jean, you may want to check this out first. And recheck everything."
Kassandra recovered from the transplant in record time, proving that her own healing capabilities had been completely replaced by Wolverine's. And the whole school was now abuzz with the news that Pyro, the same boy who betrayed the Altheims and killed Kassandra's father, had again asked Kassandra out for a cup of coffee. Even more scandalous was the word that this time she'd accepted! Nightcrawler was stunned. Wolverine, who had developed a strong paternal affection for his Little Elf, was beside himself. They confronted her.
"Relax, guys," she reassured them. "I know something's up, and I have a plan."
At a coffee shop in Salem Center, Pyro looked like anyone else there, talking on the phone while waiting for someone to arrive. "She just got out of the car. No, she didn't come alone," he said.
He hung up as Kassandra walked in.
"Hallo, John," she said.
"Kassandra," said Pyro. He maintained at the very least the appearance of composure. Kassandra had to give him credit for that. She knew that since the last time they'd met, he was rather terrified of her. And for good reason. "Can I get you something?"
"Ice water, please," she said to the barrista.
"Okay, listen," he said as they found a table and sat down. "I am really surprised that you'd even agreed to see me. But I am glad. I wanted to see how you were holding up. And I really needed to talk to you. I know that nothing I can ever say or do will make up for what I've done, but I have to say this. For what it's worth, I- I'm sorry."
Kassandra knew that on some level, he was sincere, but it wasn't enough.
"I also wanted to let you know that I did not tell Magneto about your fainting problem or whatever it was," he continued. "He and Mystique figured all that out on their own. And how to cure it, as well. But there's another problem."
"Save it, Johnny," retorted Kassandra, bitterly. "I know what the problem is. I know about Sabretooth's bone marrow, as if that would make me feel I owe him anything. And I know of Magneto's nanoprobes. And why you've really asked me out. It's not so we could make amends, as I dared hope. It's all a ploy to drag me into your little mutant supremacist movement, when my answer has been and always will be no. So stop wasting your time and mine. IT WILL NOT HAPPEN!"
Before Pyro could even think to signal Magneto, Kassandra disappeared, leaving behind her glass of water, with his lighter in it sinking to the bottom, and a note saying, "And neither will we."
At that same moment, in a nearby parking lot-
"Guten Abend, Herr Lehnsherr."
Magneto nearly jumped out of his skin whirling to see the very girl he was just now watching through the window standing right behind him. He looked again. She was still in the coffee shop. And right here. With fighting sticks in hand.
"What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost," said Kassandra. "Oh, don't bother torturing me with your nanoprobes. I didn't receive them. And it wouldn't make a difference if I did. You'd have to kill me, and you don't want to waste such potentially useful talent as mine, nicht wahr?"
"Blob, Toad-"
"-are taking a nap. With the rest of your friends." She indicated the unconscious bodies that littered the ground.
"But surely-"
"And it's ludicrous that you of all people would think of appealing to my sense of honor. I neither wanted nor received anything from Sabretooth. Even if I did, I'd owe him my gratitude, not my soul. And you and your little mutant socialist party, absolutely nothing."
At last she hit a nerve. "I see your past," she intoned in a voice that seemed to come from beyond time, her eyes burning, wide with the horror she beheld, her appearance now somehow brighter and more transparent. "Everything about it," the wraith continued. "I know who you really are. And how you managed to become the very sort of person you despise the most. Care for me to elaborate?"
"Hallo, guys!" Kassandra returned, scarcely two minutes after they dropped her off.
"That was quick," remarked Wolverine.
"It was also the most difficult work I'd ever done, except for that instant marathon I ran back home. But I've persuaded Magneto to leave me alone. By the way," she added, "do you notice anything different?"
Wolverine smiled. "The Elf's not carrying you."
"One less ohnmächtige Dame for me to rescue," said Nightcrawler, feigning disappointment. "I think I'll miss how you so often managed to end up in my arms."
Kassandra grimaced. "I thought you'd appreciate having a comrade-in-arms who doesn't keel over all the time."
"Well, I guess I can't complain as long as die Ritterin who has my back is so brave, brilliant, undso eine schöne Schwertkämpferin!"
Kassandra's face darkened. "Kurt, du bist unmöglich!"
"Stop blushing, Little Elf," said Wolverine. "You're only encouraging him."
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