A/N: Thanks for the reviews, you guys are the best.
A/N 2: I just got a pop-up offering a free plasma tv. Who are the losers who send me those ads?
A/N 3: Stupid Brett Ratner.
Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Men. If I did, I sure as heck wouldn't let Brett Ratner direct X3. I'd direct it myself. AND IT WOULD BE TONS BETTER THAN HIS VERSION.
Mutant whore my butt.
Chapter Three: Sunday Morning
Germany, 1983
Kurt lay on the floor of his mother's room, at the foot of her bed where he always slept. He couldn't remember ever sleeping on a real mattress, but it didn't matter to him, he rested better on the floor. The sound of Raven's breathing calmed Kurt down after an encounter with Caroline.
Caroline. He ran his disfigured fingers over the scar on his forearm where she had cut him with the switchblade. Had it only been two months ago? It felt like years. He hadn't told Raven about it. Kurt never told her about the beatings or verbal abuse. One of the things he'd learned earliest about his mother was that she did not like it when he cried.
"I don't want to hear about it," she told him.
Those seven words meant a lot to Kurt. He and Raven had never been close. Once he had seen a mother and her daughter walking outside of their house. They had been holding hands, and laughing. He had never done anything like that with his mother. They were as distant as the sun and the moon, only passing each other once in a millenia. Staring at the mother and child and contemplating this, he suddenly felt an odd, burning feeling in his chest, as though his heart had been dipped in acid, that he couldn't explain, even months later.
Kurt suddenly felt a wave of heat pass through his body. He stood up quietly, trying not to disturb Raven, and gently slid open the window over his head, feeling the sweet, early morning air of May wash over his face. There was a light pink tinge to the edge of the world outside, as the sun rose in the East. He glanced over at the alarm clock on his mother's nightstand, which was glaring 5:47 AM.
Another day gone, another day coming. One more day closer to summer, when Caroline would be home all the time. If she had her way, he would be forced to wear long sleeved shirts throughout the hottest months of the year to cover any bruises or cuts she would deliver to him. Kurt sighed, settling his upper chest on the window and resting his chin on his fists.
He'd never understood why it was always him who got hurt. Try as he might, he couldn't remember anything he had done to Caroline to make him the object of all her rage. Kurt understood she was probably homesick, but why - he clenched his fists into a sudden burst of frustration - did he have to pay for it?
Angry thoughts raced quickly across his mind, never quite letting him grasp them. His breathing suddenly became labored with his intense emotions, and he felt light-headed. Anger gave way to panic as he struggled to maintain his head, and he stumbled into the bathroom as quietly as he could manage.
Unfair, he suddenly thought, so clearly it was almost as if someone had said it out loud. He found he could breath a little easier then. Kurt felt a little better and tip toed over to the sink, where he washed his face in cold water. He pressed his face against the towel, then took several deep breaths.
Much better, he told himself. He left the bathroom and went back to the small throw rug where he slept.
The clock now glared 6:03 AM. The red numbers seemed to shout across the room. Kurt knew that at seven o' clock, his mother would wake up. He'd have to pretend to be asleep when she rose if he didn't want to talk to her.
Or rather, if she didn't want to talk to him.
He sat down against the wall next to the bed and began toying with the frayed edge of the rug. In all of the stories he'd read, the mother had never treated their children like Raven treated him.
Sometimes, he felt as though Raven didn't even want him, hadn't ever wanted him. But whenever those feelings rose up inside of him, he told himself it wasn't true.
Caroline, though, seemed to build up those thoughts, feed them. She brought up his fears and nightmares, made him believe the worst of himself and the people around him.
Kurt let out a dry sob, then jumped upon hearing Raven stir in her sleep. He quickly lay down as she sleepily murmured, "H'lo?" then fell back asleep.
He was never going to get to sleep now, even though he felt like his eyelids were carrying lead weights. He hated this.
Sunday morning crept through the window in the form of bright orange sunlight. Raven and Rolanda always stayed home from work on Sundays, and for that he was truly grateful. He wouldn't be hurt at all today if they were there.
Sunday morning, he mused, was the day of rest in the Bible. It was his day of rest as well.
A/N: Okay, no Caroline or action in this chapter, just Kurt thinking about his mom. Next chapter: Will Caroline kidnap President Bush?
Of course not.
A/N 2: Review, please! I've been working so hard on this, writing at 1:15 in the morning...oh, crap, it's 1:15! I have stuff to do tomorrow! Night-night!