After dealing with the crisis triggered by young Josh Guthrie's star-crossed love, Kurt had a short reprieve. He returned to the Institute to find a letter for him, from inmate 50471, Red Onion State Prison. On the complete opposite side of Virginia, but supposedly the nearest prison capable of handling the perceived risks of incarcerating Kassandra.
Mein Lieber Kurt,
So here is the first and hopefully only letter you will get from this address. By the time you get this, I will have just had a nice visit with Mama, Michael, and Lucy. Unfortunately, Vincent has not been approved to visit. They say he is a security risk. Unglaublich, nicht wahr? (Und Gott sei dank, some of the people this letter has to get past know German. I couldn't sneak anything past them if I wanted, and nobody can accuse me of trying just because I'm writing in our language.) Anyway, Vincent went to a bit of trouble to arrange for Mama to take Communion to me. And the guards have told me that that's an unusual privilege for an inmate here.
I really should not say too much about the accommodations. But I am kept in, ja, this is what they call it, "segregation" here. Which means I am denied many privileges, such as talking with you over the phone, but I do get (and I am trying to look on the bright side, here) lots of time to myself. And I can't complain about how other inmates and guards have treated me. While I would prefer to do without this notoriety, I suppose that's one advantage to it. But they've added some extra security measures as well and have told me in no flattering terms that I should not be here. In light of that, don't count on being allowed to visit. And be thankful that I will be here only until sentencing.
Speaking of the sentencing, it's entirely up to you if you want to be there. If you choose to go, I'd suggest bringing a handkerchief, a bucket, and smelling salts. After that, I don't expect where I'll be transferred to be much better. And Logan will not like it one bit. Let's continue praying for a successful appeals process.
And yes, that
will take a while. I can't even begin to guess how long, as I have
not been using my powers here. Remember our agreement about this. Or
rather, our disagreement. I know you still intend to wait. I still
anticipate nothing but misery if you take that course of action,
though part of me appreciates that you want to try. I am grateful for
the time we've had together. I still agree this was worth the grief
of parting. And even if our relationship has to again change course,
even if picking up where we left off in the unlikely event that I get
out anytime soon will not be as simple as me stepping back into your
life, you have always at the very least been mein
Lieblingsfreund. I have determined that that will never change.
And I hope to similarly remain dein' immer.
-Zeitgeist
Kurt noticed no small number of splotches and smudges where apparently tears splashed upon the paper. And by the knot in his throat, he suspected that a few of them were from him. He quickly shoved the letter away, his head in one hand.
"Kurt?" A deep, regal-sounding contralto drew his attention to the tall, shapely silhouette in his doorway. Ororo Munroe, with her preternaturally blue eyes and white halo of hair, and outer beauty that paled compared to her inner strength, could not help but command attention and respect. It was easy to see how her Masai tribespeople came to regard her as a weather goddess. "The team has combat simulation planned in the danger room. Care to join us?"
Kurt sighed. It always was hard to say no to Ororo. And she would not make it any easier.
"I also got a letter from Kassandra," she said. "She requested that if we think you are spending too much time brooding, that I pull rank as your new team leader and insist upon you having some fun with the rest of us."
"Very well." Kurt rose from his desk and left with Ororo. "With the loveliest ladies in my life now conspiring together, I do believe I am powerless to resist anyway." And if Kassandra was arranging for his other friends to be extra supportive in her stead, the least he could do was be there for her sentencing. And hopefully steal one more moment with her for the long, uncertain road ahead.
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"Before we commence," said Beast, "can I have some assurance that the mitigating details I will disclose will not be shared with the media?"
"A reasonable request," said Judge Montgomery. "I will order the jury and anyone in the courtroom to not divulge the details of this testimony, on pain of facing charges for contempt and possibly for defamation, slander, or libel. Now please proceed."
"So, Dr. McCoy," said Fitzsimmons, "exactly what qualifies you to deliver this report on these supposedly mitigating circumstances?"
"In the first place, I have known Kassandra's parents for years as esteemed colleagues and trusted friends. Since Kassandra started attending school Stateside, I took over as her primary physician. And together, her mother, Dr. Jean Grey, and I researched treatments to minimize the medical hazards her mutation posed."
"It says here, in one of her earliest FBI reports, that she had a rare medical condition that was treated successfully with a stem cell transplant from an unnamed accelerated healer," said Fitzsimmons. "So you pioneered this treatment?"
"Yes. The treatment was successful. But we could only make educated guesses as to the side effects she'd experience. And it turned out we guessed correctly. Not only did the transplant minimize the risks temporal manipulation posed to her, but it gave her the same accelerated healing capabilities her donor has."
"And this is a mitigating factor to be considered in sentencing, because…" said Fitzsimmons.
Beast's calm look and delivery belied his own consternation at being put in this particular spot. "If the jury recommends the death penalty, how do you suppose the sentence could be carried out?"
Kurt once again clutched Dr. Altheim's hand. He now understood just what Kassandra meant about what to bring to the sentencing hearing. Lucy, Michael, and Vincent looked more than a little worried. But they did not yet realize the implications the way Kurt and Dr. Altheim did. "Oh, iNkosi," Dr. Altheim moaned, shaking, looking nauseous.
Beast became a bit more animated. "Now, of course Dr. Altheim and I are not thoroughly versed on how to kill mutants, as it has been our business to preserve lives, but other sources have hypothesized that it is possible to kill an accelerated healer of Kassandra's capabilities by beheading, bleeding out, live cremation, or disintegration."
At that, the blood drained even from Miranda Eastman's face. Disintegration, according to her sons' hospital records, was not a mercifully instantaneous way to go, nor was it painless. How long would the other methods take to kill her? Burning her alive? That was just out of the question. Sure, the girl may not have been human, but Miranda was sure even vicious animals did not deserve to die like that. And supposedly, those whom she did not kill instantly she was desperate to save. Why…
"Wouldn't standard, legal execution methods work if her powers were inhibited?" Fitzsimmons asked.
"Theoretically speaking, yes," said Beast, "if she'd allow that to happen. Along with the healing factor, she received a resistance to anything that could hamper her, like drugs or inhibitor technology. If she does not want an inhibitor to work, the tiniest warp in time is all she requires to disrupt and overload the system."
Pandemonium erupted in the courtroom, as the jurors recognized the implications of recommending a death sentence, some of them turning quite green at the prospect.
"Order!" snapped Judge Montgomery, rapping her gavel. "Ms. Fitzsimmons, please continue."
"So why is it that she's not breaking through the inhibitors now. How is it that we've had no report of her doing likewise over at Red Onion?"
"Your hypothesis is as good as mine," said Beast. "Perhaps for the same reason other convicts might not plot their escape."
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The jury took even less time deliberating on a sentence than they did on the verdict. The mandatory minimum sentence for the burglary charge, and 39 life sentences to be served concurrently. At an undisclosed mutant detention facility. So she would at least live. Kurt noticed that while most of the family broke into silent sighs and sobs of simultaneous grief and relief, Kassandra's face looke surprisingly grim, even during the grievous and seemingly inappropriate Auf Wiedersehens she exchanged with her family. Until Kurt grabbed her shoulder and whispered, "Ich verstehe. Das ist nicht notwendigerweise beßer, nicht wahr?"
Kassandra's face crumpled. "Vielleicht beßer. Aber nur ein Bißchen." And she allowed him one last, discrete, little peck before being pulled from his grasp and escorted away.
