AN: A quick note on Kurt/Nightcrawler: I've set his age as being somewhere between Remus' 28 and Rogue's 16. And yes, there is a very good chance that Kurt will become a large part of this story...which means I get to delve into his background and make things work together how I want them to work! Yay! ;)

Chapter 2: Past Meets Present

November 22, 1994: "Our parents met in the summer of 1964. Mum had just graduated from secondary school and had decided to go out celebrating with some friends. They went out drinking and dancing in London one evening and she somehow wound up separated from the others. She was a bit sloshed and unfamiliar with the city. She wound up down the wrong street and was being mugged by a couple of nasty thugs when Dad showed up on the scene. He told her after that he usually didn't do the whole rescuing the damsel in distress thing, but something about her drew him in. He jumped right in and beat up the thugs and took Mum to the inn he was staying at with his brother.

"When Mum woke the next morning in a strange room, she panicked. Dad liked to tell how she nearly scalped him with her fingernails, but she always insisted that she barely scratched him. Once Mum had calmed down a bit, Dad was able to explain what had happened the night before. Mum was so grateful that she offered to buy him a drink to thank him. He laughed in her face and told her that she couldn't hold her liquor. Mum had a bit of a temper and yelled at him in about three different languages, insulting his parentage, his manhood, and his honor. Dad just laughed at her. Truth be told, he was amused. Mum was all of five foot five to his six two; short of height and temper, but never on brains or beauty. Once her temper had steamed off, Dad agreed to go out for a drink.

"After that one date, they didn't meet again until about three months later. Mum's older sister, our Aunt Joan, was getting married at her fiancé's estate just outside of London and Mum was the maid of honor. For the hen party, Mum and Aunt Joan went clubbing in the city with some girlfriends. This time Dad saw Mum before she got into any kind of trouble. It was the first bar they hit and Mum was only a few shot in when Dad came up and asked her to dance. She recognized him right away and accepted. Now, she was either more sloshed than she ever admitted to Aunt Joan or she had a sudden fit of impulsiveness because she asked Dad to be her date to her sister's wedding. Dad accepted.

"They started officially dating after Aunt Joan married Uncle Chris. It was nearly a year to the day of their first meeting when Dad proposed to her and she accepted. The trouble started when Mum and Dad went to tell Grandfather Lupin that they were engaged. The Lupin family is what we like to call old money and Grandfather felt that Dad was so far beneath Mum that he was dirt on her shoes. Not only did he come from a family of no consequence, but he had no money or home to speak of and, to add insult to injury, he was from the Americas. It didn't matter to Grandfather that Dad was actually Canadian; the whole continent was bad news to him. When Mum refused to break off the engagement, Grandfather disowned her.

"Dad had actually been saving up money for a while and was not as destitute as Grandfather thought. He used that money to buy a small piece of land outside Lancaster and that's where they got married. I came along about eight months later and life was good for a while. When I was four, I was in an accident that scarred me for life and left my immune system completely wrecked. Mum was devastated and Dad was determined; he spent every last bit of money he had saved up trying to find a way to cure me of my ailment, to no avail.

"When I was eleven, I got accepted into the same secondary school that Mum had attended. I was so happy to be able to go, despite my poor health. Mum and Dad were so proud of me when I got my acceptance letter. And so I went away to school, returning for Christmas break to spend time with my parents.

"That Christmas Eve, Dad and I went for a walk into the nearest town to buy some last minute gifts and supplies. That was the night our lives went to hell. Dad and I were attacked that night by a group of terrorists who thought that people like Mum shouldn't mix with people like Dad. Dad was amazing; he fought them off left and right, but one got through. I remember staring death in the face and knowing it would be my end. I closed my eyes and when I opened them…Dad had killed my attacker, but in the process he had been killed as well.

"Mum found out she was pregnant again after I went back to school. She slowly grew weaker and weaker as the baby grew; Aunt Joan said that she always knew it was only a matter of time. Marie Julia Lupin was born in August of 1978. She was a beautiful baby with a head full of dark hair, like Dad's. I was instantly smitten with her; she was so tiny and fragile, but she was mine. I loved her with all my heart and I always thought I'd have my whole life to show her how much she meant to me.

"Mum died in October of that same year. Her health finally gave out and she simply didn't wake up one morning. She and Marie had been living with Aunt Joan ever since Dad had been killed, so at least neither was alone. After Mum died, Aunt Joan and Uncle Chris wanted to take both Marie and myself in. They only had one child, our cousin James who was only seventeen days younger than me, but had always wanted more. Their hopes were dashed by a bigoted Ministry. They were told that they would have to choose between Marie or me; the adorable little baby girl who had every chance in the world of being adopted by a good family or the damaged and sickly pre-teen boy who was more trouble than he was worth. Sometimes I wonder if they made the right choice.

"So that is the story of our family, right from the beginning. I tell it to you as it was told to me by Aunt Joan."

Rogue was speechless. "S-so, our parents are dead? They didn't give me up because they didn't want me?"

"Oh no, Marie," said Remus gently, "They wanted you very much. They always talked about having a big family, but Mum was never able to conceive after me…until you."

"An' how do I fit into this story of yours?" asked Logan. "You ain't said nothin' 'bout me; I thought you said it all tied together.'

"It does," said Remus shortly. "Our Mum was Alexandra Julia Lupin, eldest daughter of Johnathan Lupin. Our father…his name was James Logan Howlett and the only family he ever talked about was his older half-brother, Victor Creed." At Logan's blank stare Remus huffed in frustration and added, "You're James Logan Howlett, Dad."

"That's imposs—I can't be—I'd remember—"

"Logan, you don't remember anything before fifteen years ago," said the Professor.

"I watched my father die seventeen years ago," said Remus. "I don't know how it is that you are still alive, because I know what I saw."

"So, what," snapped Logan, "yer upset cause yer old man ain't as dead as ya thought? Some son you are, bub."

"No," said Remus, amber eyes flashing dangerously, "I'm upset because my father has apparently been alive for seventeen years and never once bothered to come let me know."

"Look, bub, the Professor told ya—"

"That you lost your memories fifteen years ago, yes. But what about those two years before you lost them? Did you just suddenly decide that having a kid—kids—was too hard? Why didn't you come back? Did you think I would have cared that you weren't really dead? I would have given anything to have my father back."

"Look, kid," said Logan, his voice softening, "I'd love to tell ya why I did what I did, but I just don't know. The first thing I remember is waking up on Three Mile Island after being shot in the head. The only reason I had any idea of what to call myself was because of my dog tags and some guy who seemed to know me finding me on that beach."

Remus was silent, staring into the empty fireplace in contemplation. "I suppose we shall never know then," he finally said, his voice clipped. "Thank you for your time, Professor," he added, standing up and crossing over to shake Charles' hand.

"You are very welcome, Remus," said the Professor warmly. "Please stay here as long as you'd like."

"Thank you." He turned to Rogue and added, "Marie, please feel free to seek me out whenever you are ready. I promise not to push. It was wonderful to meet you." He shook her gloved hand, shot a glare at Logan, and left the room.

"Professor," said Rogue, staring out the open door, "would you mind if ah—"

"Of course not, Rogue. You may handle this as you see fit. Just know, we are all here for you."

"Thanks, Professor." Rogue shot an uncertain smile at Logan and fled out the door.

"Don' tell me Marie actually took off after that kid," said Logan, lounging further into the sofa. He pulled out a cigar from his shirt pocket and absently began to chew on it.

"How Rogue deals with this rather unique situation is entirely up to her," replied Charles. "I refuse to influence her one way or another; I am simply here to guide and to advise."

Logan let out a bark of laughter. "Sure, Chuck," he said. "What advice d'ya got for me?"

Charles raised his eyebrow. "You, my friend, are another story entirely. We've tried nearly everything I can think of to restore your memories and yet…"

"Still no memories," said Logan, rapping his forehead with his knuckles. "Any new bright ideas?"

"Perhaps," said Charles slowly. "There is one thing I haven't tried."

"Well? What are we waiting for? If what the kid said is true…" Logan clenched his jaw and his eyes were filled with turmoil. "If what he said is true, I haveta know, Chuck. What kind of man was I that I would abandon my wife and kid?"

Charles smiled sadly. "I'm sure you had your reasons, Logan."

He snorted. "Yeah, but were they good enough?"

"I wish I could tell you that, my friend. Give me a day to sort things out and I may have a solution to your problem."

Logan raised a dark eyebrow. "Just like that?"

Charles smirked, an odd look on his kind face. "I have many friends in high places, Logan. When I put my mind to it, there's little I can't achieve."

XXXX

Besides Logan, Rogue's closest friend at the mansion was a young mutant just a few years older than her. He was a mischievous teleporter who, like herself, was an orphan. It was this shared beginning that had brought the two together shortly after Rogue's arrival at Xavier's. Kurt Wagner might look like a demon with his blue skin, pointed tail, and fangs, but he had a heart of gold and always sought out the best in others. He was firm in his faith, but never pestered Rogue (or anyone else) to conform to his beliefs. He was the only person besides Logan she allowed to call her by her given name.

The first place she always looked for her furry friend was the small chapel on the ground, situated behind the main house back where the grassy lawns gave way to lush trees. Rogue gently pushed open the wooden door and called out, "Hello? Kurt?"

A poof and a cloud of blue smoke announced the German mutant's arrival. "Guten tag, Marie," he said, baring his fangs in a smile that reached all the way to his glowing yellow eyes.

"Hi Kurt," she said, attempting to reciprocate, but falling flat.

"Vat is the matter, Marie?" he asked kindly, placing a three-fingered hand on her shoulder.

Rogue finally lost her composure, tears falling from her chocolate brown eyes in a steady stream. "Oh Kurt," she sobbed. "Ah don't know what to do."

He guided her over to one of the pews and sat down with her. "Tell me vat is wrong, meine freundin."

Rogue sniffed and wiped at her nose with the long arm of her glove. "Ah just found mah birth family, Kurt," she said, 'and ah'm not sure what to do. Ah don't even know how ah'm supposed to react to this, fer cryin' out loud!"

Kurt gently wiped the tears from her cheeks. "Der is no right way for you to act, Marie," he said. "Your feelings are your own and no one can tell you vat you must feel." He pulled the young woman close, letting her lay her head on his shoulder. "Tell me about dis family of yours, meine Marie."

Rogue closed her eyes as Kurt gently ran his thick fingers through her hair. "Ah have a brother," she said quietly. "He's about a decade older than me, ah think. He's spent most of mah life looking for me."

"Vat is he like?"

"Well, he seems kind…mostly. He's holding on to a lot of anger toward his—our—father."

"This is upsetting to you?"

"Well, yeah. It's just…he says that Logan is our father. He said that Logan abandoned him when he was a kid. Well, he said that he watched his dad die, but since Logan's here that obviously didn't happen. Ah just don't know what ah'm supposed to do, Kurt!" She buried her face in her gloved hands. "It's just too much," she said softly.

"Oh Marie," Kurt said gently. "Your feelings are perfectly normal. You are very close with Logan and you do not like someone else—a stranger, truly—pointing out his flaws to you. But you must remember that your Logan is a very different person that your brother's Logan. There are at least seventeen years between the two, vith the scars of many battles, both mental and physical, and a fractured memory along the vay. In many vays, your brother still sees Logan through the eyes of a hurting child and vill react to him thusly. You, on the other hand, see Logan as your protector and friend; vether you know it or not, you already see him as a brother or father figure. I think that it is your brother and his issues with Logan that are causing you grief."

Rogue lifted her head from her hands and gave the blue mutant a small smile. "How do you always know just what ah need to hear, Kurt?"

Kurt shrugged, his cheeks blushing slightly purple. "It is my gift, miene freundin. You know that I am always here for you, ya?"

"Of course, Kurt," she replied, giving him a genuine smile. "You're mah best friend."

"And you are mine, Marie," he replied, hugging the young woman tightly.

XXXX

Remus was sitting in the guest room he had been given, gently turning over the pages in a worn, leather bound book when Rogue sought him out after her talk with Kurt. "Remus?" she called softly, standing in the open doorway of the room.

Remus looked up and Rogue saw that he had tear tracks down his cheeks and his eyes were red and puffy. "Oh, hello Marie," he croaked. "I-I was just looking through some albums from- from when I was a kid."

Rogue stepped softly into the room. "Mind if ah join you?" she asked, her eyes betraying her nerves.

Remus' kind face melted into a smile. "Of course not." He scooted over on the bed to make room. "Come sit," he invited. "I don't bite—much."

Rogue returned his lopsided smile with one of her own and gingerly sat down on the edge of the bed. She glanced down at the open album lying on Remus' lap. One picture in particular caught her eye. "Is that—"

"Me and Dad," said Remus softly, a sad sort of smile spreading across his face. "That was taken the morning before he died."

Rogue leaned in closer. "Ah know you said Logan is our dad, but this…"

"It's different to actually see it for yourself," said Remus knowingly.

"Yeah. Were you close?" she asked.

"Before he died—left, whatever you want to call it—we were very close. Before I left for school, he was my best friend. Our cousin James was my age, but we rarely saw each other before we headed off to school. Dad was always there for me, whether I had a scraped knee or just needed someone to play pirates with me. My favorite thing, though, was when Dad would tuck me in at night and tell me stories about his life growing up and traveling with his big brother."

"I didn't know Logan had a brother," said Rogue, fascinated.

"I guess that's one more thing he forgot," said Remus bitterly.

"It's not his fault," snapped Rogue, defending her protector.

Remus sighed. "Logically I know this, Marie," he said, "but it's very hard to put into practice. I mourned him, Marie. I watched him die in front of me and then I had to watch our mother wither away from his loss even as you grew inside of her." Rogue was silent as Remus turned the page. "This is her," he said softly, pointing to the picture of a smiling blonde woman. Her hair was cropped to her shoulders and styled in an almost modern way. Her eyes were a sparkling blue that glinted with mischief and vitality. In the photo, she stared straight at the camera, smiling a toothy smile as if she had been laughing. "Dad liked to take pictures of her," Remus said softly, gently touching the picture with his rough finger. "He'd sometimes walk around with the camera just so that he could catch her off guard. She always complained, but secretly she loved it."

"They loved each other," observed Rogue.

"Very much," replied Remus.

Rogue turned the page to see another picture of a young Remus and Logan. Remus, who looked to be about seven or eight, was perched on Logan's shoulders, tugging on the wings of his hairdo (the same one he still wore) and laughing happily. "Do you think you could ever forgive him?" asked Rogue gazing fixedly on the happy image of times gone by.

Remus sighed. "I don't know, Marie," he admitted. "I loved him very much and he abandoned me. I understand that he lost his memory fifteen years ago, but that still leaves two years unaccounted for. Maybe if I knew why he never came back to us…to me…"

Rogue turned the page again, this time revealing a photo of her heavily pregnant mother sleeping on a worn sofa with her head on Logan's lap. Logan didn't seem to notice that his picture was being taken; he was too engrossed in staring lovingly at his wife and stroking her hair. "What-what if the Professor could find a way to bring back Logan's memories? Would you give him a chance?"

Remus stared at the picture in the album. "Of course I would," he said softly. "I think a part of me will always want to forgive him."

"That's all ah want," said Rogue. "Logan's been like a brother or a father to me since ah met him," she admitted. "Ah want to get to know you too, Remus, but ah don't like you two fighting."

Remus smiled gently at her. "I will try, for you," he said. "I can't promise any miracles, but I will try."

Rogue smiled happily up at him, finally meeting his eyes. "Ah can live with that."

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