A thoroughly miserable Zeitgeist bolted madly down the hallway and nearly barreled into Dr. Jean Grey.

"Kassi?"

"Jean!" she sobbed. "What happened? WHAT DID THEY DO TO HIM?"

Jean put her hands on Kassandra's shoulders and looked steadily at her. "Kassi, I am afraid you know that better than I do."

Kassandra's eyes widened in horror. "It was just like when you all took on the Marauders, or the Adversary. I wanted to think it was just a waking nightmare. Something just yanked me out of time. I saw what happened, I couldn't look away, and I couldn't stop it!"

Kurt was tempted to follow this girl out of the room, especially after he overheard something about the Marauders. And nightmares. He'd been having a lot of those lately, himself. Perhaps the déjà vu she inspired stemmed from some remote common experience. But she seemed extremely upset, and he figured Jean was, at the moment, better equipped to deal with that. He would try to find out just what bothered this girl when she had some time to simmer down.

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He remembered Riptide coming at him. The feeling of being nearly flayed alive and powerless to resist. Then nothing.

Eventually he locked in on a soft smell, dim light, and low, muffled voices.

"I know I said ye talkin' and readin' tae him would be good, but, och, lass, ye need t' rest, too. I ha' enough patients on ma hands as it is, and I canna ha' ye and Ororo both breakin' doon."

"I'm almost finished, Doktor," said the husky voice of a young girl who had spend the last Kurt had no idea how long talking his pointed ears off, reassuring him that she'd survived the massacre and that it looked like Kätchen would be okay too, even though she was not in good shape at the moment.

Kurt stirred. She was wrapping up reading Die Drei Musketiere. Outside the Bible, that had to be one of his favorite books. What happened? Where was he? He rolled his unfocused, comatose eyes toward that voice, and could finally see… Kassandra? She put the book down and took his good hand, hoping for the response he'd been trying, and up until now, unable to provide. "Kurt, kannst du mich hören?"

"….Himmmmmm….el?"

The girl smiled and stroked his forehead. "Nein, Kurt. Nur Schottland. Muir Insel."

Kurt squeezed her hand slightly, and a bleary smile flickered across his face. It took most of his strength, but he had to say this. "Gnad…. Ennn…gel."

And the bewildered, exasperated, and embarrassed mix of expressions on her face was like a refreshing balm to his many wounds. "Kurt, du bist unverbeßerlich!

"Moira," she said to Dr. MacTaggert, "it's confirmed. He'll definitely pull through."

"Well, at least his ability t'make ye blush has nae been affected, love. But I'm afraid all this flirtin's tired 'im oot!"

And so it had, but it was well worth it, if it wasn't all a dream.

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Kassandra was beside herself. "They went into his mind, but not like you've ever done. They erased stuff. A whole lot of stuff, including most everything pertaining to me! Worse than that, THEY HURT HIM, Jean! Gott steh uns bei! Even I don't know how badly!"

Utter despair threatened to envelope her. All those years they'd been friends, fencing partners, comrades-in-arms, and maybe even more- gone just like that. She couldn't just tell him about it all. He wouldn't believe her. Having Jean try to psychically restore his memories would only do more damage. Psychology wouldn't help. This was no ordinary case of amnesia, and in this case, Kassandra had good reason to doubt her clinical objectivity. Nightcrawler didn't surrender this or any memory willingly. Kassandra knew that. So they nearly killed him, went into his mind against his will, toyed with his dreams, stole memoriesand stripped him of a few crucial things that made him Kurt. Hot tears stung her eyes at the very thought. No, just as it was with Wolverine, Kurt would start remembering things and inquiring only when he was ready. And then maybe she could help. But until then, she had other things to do.

As if that weren't bad enough, now Zeitgeist's operatives began to disappear. Granted, she alerted them to all the risks, telling some under no uncertain terms that, while she'd do all she could to help them, they were not likely to survive. And they were willing to take those chances. Most agents took assignments for some personal gain. Not these people. They were in it purely on principle. And losing such good people did not sit at all well with Zeitgeist.

"Kassi, I also have seen evidence of this psychic tampering," said Jean. "What do you know? Who did this, and why?"

Kassandra took a couple of ragged breaths, composed herself, and tapped her forehead, signaling that she wanted to communicate telepathically. "I might as well tell you, Jean, but only on the condition that you do not even tell Scott." Because Cyclops would want to get all the X-Men involved in her mission. There would be a time for that, but she needed them to stay where they were for now. "I have a conference with a couple of my people in about an hour to deal with just that. I'd like very much for you to come with me. Meanwhile, I think having Logan run me through some combat simulation will do me some good."

"I agree," Jean thought, as they headed down the hallway. "We also have something for you, that you may want to try out."

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