Summers made his way toward the pile of defeated Brotherhood, and stood threateningly over Lance as the other boy regained consciousness. Kurt's eyes narrowed, and he crept toward the edge of the balcony above the scene.

"It serves you right for breaking and entering."

"Screw you, Summers," Lance groaned. "You're here too, in case you haven't noticed."

"Only because of what you guys did. What were you thinking, setting someone like that loose in the mall? Are you still trying to expose us or something?"

"Fuck off. You don't know what you're talking about."

"Then how about you enlighten me?"

"Scott." That came from the red-head. "We're not here to pick a fight."

Todd's head poked out from behind a fast food counter. "Yeh, Summers. So just shoo already. YEEP!" His head disappeared again as a bone spike soared through the spot it had been a moment ago.

Kurt's tail twitched thoughtfully. The Brotherhood had obviously lost this fight with the X-men. He wasn't sure what they were fighting about, and he had very little experience with fighting back against anyone, but something pressed him to step in for the sake of the ones that had taken him in.

They had come back for him. It was the least he could do to return the favor.

The X-men were confident in their victory and unaware of his presence. He could use that. His eyes narrowed as he remembered the way Summers kept his visor steady when he shot those beams out of his eyes. His eyes flickered up to the air above Summers, his mind working to judge distance and get a solid spatial sense of the objects around the food court.

His only option was to give them hell. If all else failed, at least he was used to the sensation of being beaten up.

Bamf.

He appeared in a puff of smoke ten feet above Summers and braced for impact just as he landed on the guy's shoulders. The young man stumbled and made a surprised sound, even as Kurt's misshapen hands grabbed at the visor. A moment later, Summers got a grip on his shirt and threw his assailant over his shoulder, but not before Kurt had yanked the boy's visor off. The blue mutant managed not to drop the visor as he skidded across the broken floor, somersaulting and finally rolling upright to face Summers.

"Whoa," whispered the spiked boy from somewhere to his left.

Slowly, Kurt rose to stand upright, the visor held tight in his twitching tail. His focus was steadily on the leader of the other team, who had clamped a hand over his eyes but still spun around, ready to be attacked. Everyone else was motionless, staring at him.

There was that anger again, bubbling up inside him.

Suddenly, the visor felt like it vanished from his grip, his tail coiling around itself oddly in its abrupt absence. He spun around, and came face-to-face with the untouchable girl… 'Kitty,' Lance had called her.

The girl froze as soon as Kurt turned, the visor forgotten in her grip. Her face paled, her mouth dropped open slightly, and her eyes widened so that the whites could be seen all around her irises. It was terror, plain and simple: the irrational fear that Kurt had been facing his entire life.

Suddenly, that boiling emotion turned white-hot. Verdammt, this girl could walk through other people. Why im Namen Gott was she afraid of him?

His lips lifted in a snarl, showing his fangs. Never letting her gaze break from his own, he bent aggressively toward the girl, until she had to lean back to keep their noses from touching.

"Boo."

She shrieked and overbalanced backward onto the ground. Then, Boom Boom released one of her explosions at the girl with striped hair, and everything was back in motion.

The ground started rumbling warningly, signaling that Lance was ready for another round, and the spiked boy popped a row of spines out of his arm and ran to meet him.

Then, Kurt felt an odd, rubbery pressure around him, and his body was lifted several feet off the ground. It was as if he was borne up in a bubble of air.

He turned his head, and saw that the red-head had one hand at her temple, the other extended toward him, and a look of deep concentration on her face.

When she saw she had his attention, she said with some difficulty, "You don't have to fight us. Please, we just want to talk."

As if on cue, Todd flew by, being whipped through the air by the striped girl's grip on his tongue. He slammed into a balcony with an "Urk."

Kurt gave her a disbelieving look and pushed against the pressure around him, realizing that this was just another cage. He no longer feared cages.

Bamf.

"What? Where did he-" That was as far as the red-head got before Kurt tackled her from behind, sending them both skidding across the tiles.

"He's a teleporter!" Summers shouted from somewhere nearby.

Kurt felt that pressure again, faster this time. The red-head was pushing him off of her. He spiraled through the air, landing roughly in a stack of upended tables.

Freddy lumbered past, weathering a rain of bone spikes like they were raindrops, and then something moved to Kurt's left. The stripe-haired girl was running for him, a bare hand outstretched. Kurt tensed and scrambled against the furniture to try to find his footing, but she was coming down too fast. All he could do was brace himself for impact.

Suddenly, a silver blur swept by, knocking the girl into a trash can. A moment later, Pietro was over Kurt, helping extract him from the tangle of tables. "Don't-let-that-one-touch-you," he said, querulously picking a gummy bear from Kurt's coat. "Trust-me-it's-not-pretty."

"Danke," Kurt said, turning back to face the threat. The girl had been picked up (literally) by Freddy. Which left spike-boy…

"Hey Pietro! Think fast!"

Pietro and Kurt both whirled around in time to see a rain of spikes flying their way.

Fwip.

Bamf.

The spikes thunked harmlessly into a nearby wall. A moment later, spike-boy was clotheslined by a speedster and then pinned to the ground by one of his own spikes through his shirt, courtesy of the blue demon.

Pietro and Kurt were just picking themselves up when the air started whirling wildly around them, as if a wind were suddenly blowing through the mall. One of Boom Boom's poppers whizzed by dangerously close to Kurt's ear.

"Shit!" he heard Lance say from somewhere within a ring of destruction "The cavalry's here."

"You got that right, bub." Sniiiikt.

Everyone stopped fighting, just like that. Kurt looked around, finally locating two newcomers standing on the balconies above them. On the left balcony was an elegant woman with dark skin and white hair, her posture one of calm and confidence. On the right balcony was a stout, hairy man with metal claws coming out of his knuckles. His stance was entirely about suppressed aggression.

"Aw, man," Todd whined, slinking away from his current opponent—the red-head—and hopping his way into Freddy's shadow. "Let's get out of here, yo, before Claws uses us for target practice."

Lance stared up at the burly man, his jaw set stubbornly to hide what was probably fear. Kurt knew all about that.

The elegant woman spoke gently, but firmly. "I suggest we leave this place: all of us. We have done enough damage for today."

The X-men all hung their heads guiltily.

"Yeah, whatever," Lance said with forced nonchalance. He spun on his heel and started away. "Come on guys; we got what we came for."

Freddy and Todd started after Lance, and Pietro followed a moment later, after zipping over to the kiosk to grab Freddy's large duffel bag, still lying on the counter top. Tabitha blew a last kiss at spike-boy, then sashayed after the boys.

Kurt hesitated a moment, wondering at the odd dynamic that had filled the building just now. These two newcomers were older, and the younger X-men obviously respected them as figures of authority. Who was she, whose expression was so gentle and matronly? And he who had a demeanor more wild than Kurt's had ever been?

Summers seemed to slump, as if he bore the responsibility of the mall's destruction on his own shoulders. Kitty was cringed up like she expected punishment, but it wasn't the terror of pain and starvation that had so often paralyzed Kurt, but something much milder. As if she'd never known terror like Kurt had. The spiked boy was still picking himself up, but did so quietly so as not to call attention to himself. The stripe-haired girl had her arms crossed defensively, but might as well have been standing in line to buy a hot dog, for all the attention she was paying everyone.

Only the red-head seemed to still register the Brotherhood's presence. Her eyes were steadily on Kurt, a deep sadness in them. He wasn't sure what to make of it; he'd never seen someone bear such…. empathy toward him before. Was that what it was? Why?

"Nightcrawler, come on."

That was all he'd ever wanted to hear.

Kurt cast one last glance over the assembled X-men, then turned and trailed after the Brotherhood on all fours, since he was too tired from teleporting to walk upright.

A moment later, he caught up to the Brotherhood and crawled up on Fred's shoulder. The big guy gave him a smile and raised a hand to scratch behind Kurt's ears. Despite himself, Kurt smiled and leaned into the touch.

"Glad to have you back, little guy," Freddy rumbled.

"'Ey! I'm s'posed to be yer 'little buddy,'" Todd whined.

"Yer both my 'little buddies,'" Fred said with an absent shrug, which upset Kurt's seat on his shoulder. He moved to slip into the duffel bag, riding it like a swing.

Todd stuck the tip of his green tongue out at Kurt, but the sight of his crooked smile put any of Kurt's concerns at ease.

Nestled in a bag in the bend of Freddy's elbow looking at the crooked yellow smile of a crooked boy, Kurt had never felt safer, nor more free.

Finally, he was home again.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

It was a grim team that walked through the doors of the Xavier Institute that afternoon. Professor Charles Xavier pressed his palms together as he watched them return home from his office window.

He was not at all surprised when Scott stormed into the office a couple minutes later. Jean, Logan, and Ororo trailed behind him, the latter two finding places to stand out of the way of Scott's pacing.

"I take it the mission did not go as well as hoped?"

"Not at all," Scott said tightly.

"Did you find the boy?" Charles asked, even though everyone knew he was already aware of the answer. It was polite to ask, and Scott always handled himself better when able to give his reports.

"We found him. Or actually, he found us, then promptly stole my visor and scared the life out of Kitty. He's a nasty one, Professor."

"Hmm." Charles glanced at Jean, who had seated herself on one of the chairs in front of his desk while Scott paced.

-Are these your impressions, Jean?-

-No, Professor. He's confused, I think. And hurt, in a lot of ways. But I don't think he's a bad person.-

"He is a mutant, like you expected," Scott continued, unaware of his exchange with Jean. "A teleporter. The Brotherhood called him 'Nightcrawler'. He seemed to fit in with them just fine."

"I see. Why don't you start from the beginning, Scott?"

And so Scott did, starting with the team's attempt to track the Brotherhood and ending with the arrival of Ororo and Logan.

"The kids trashed the place pretty thoroughly," Logan put in, his glare pointedly on Scott. "We're going to have a doozy of a time covering this one up, Chuck."

"Don't worry about it, Logan," Charles assured his friend. "I will have it taken care of. Our primary focus should be with the boy concerned."

"With all due respect, Professor," Scott asked, "what are you talking about? He's joined the Brotherhood. Game over; better luck next time."

"Scooter's right, Chuck," Logan said. "I heard what those boys were saying as they left… they seemed pretty chummy. Now, I like puttin' those boys in their place as much as the next guy, but keeping after Nightcrawler is just askin' for an unnecessary fight."

Ororo added, "You certainly didn't fight this hard for any of the other Brotherhood boys. What is so special about this one?" Always more observant than she seemed, was Ororo.

Charles laced his fingers together and regarded his dearest friends sadly. "I'm afraid that, this time, it's not as simple as merely letting the Brotherhood go about business as usual. As unfortunate as it is, Kurt's appearance will be a complex problem that the Brotherhood is simply not equipped to address."

"Kurt?" asked Jean.

Charles closed his eyes. "Kurt Wagner. Age sixteen. Picked up by a circus at age seven, from somewhere in southern Germany." He opened his eyes. "I took the liberty of tracking his origins while you were away." He did not think it wise to reveal the other, more personal things he had uncovered in his digging.

The four of them sat in silence to digest that.

"So what you gonna do about him, Chuck?"

"I… am not sure." It was rare that he was without a plan, but he really was not sure how to proceed in this case. "If we approach him too strongly, we will spook him off. And yet, if things are as you described, Scott, I fear the Brotherhood has already captured the young man's heart. If we leave it alone, things are bound to escalate as he discovers the hefty limitations of his new-found freedom."

This left the four of them in a solemn mood.

Finally, Logan sighed. "Well, I better make sure the new mutants haven't blown up the hangar or somethin' while we were away. Talk to you later, Chuck."

Logan walked out. Ororo took this as her cue, and bowed out gracefully after him.

This left an agitated Scott and a discouraged Jean sitting in front of him.

"Go ahead, Jean," Charles prodded.

Jean let her head drop. "I'd really hoped to reach this one, Professor. I could feel… he's gentle. And loyal. But…"

Charles nodded in understanding, "…that very loyalty could very well work against us."

"What are you talking about?" Scott asked. "Gentle? Jean, he attacked me."

"The way he saw it," she responded, "he was defending the ones who had saved him from captivity."

Scott jerked to stare at her, his usually stoic face showing surprise. "The Brotherhood? Are you sure he's from the same dimension, because last time I checked, the Brotherhood didn't do 'saving'."

Jean hid an eye roll and sighed. "I know, Scott. I'm just relaying the impression I got from him." Scott sat back, mollified, but then Jean turned a look on him and continued: "And just because you don't like them doesn't mean they're not capable of some good."

"What are you talking about, Jean? They destroyed an elevator today."

"Scott, we destroyed the entire mall."

"…that was different."

"I think we're done here." Jean stood up, giving the professor a weary smile. "Thank you for your time, Professor." -I really am sorry about the destruction. Things got carried away.-

-Don't worry about it. A fix is already in motion. Just… do your best not to make it a habit.- "You know my doors are always open, Jean. Have a good rest of the day, Scott."

Scott stood up somewhat dejectedly, but nonetheless followed Jean on her way out.

"Oh," Charles added as they reached the door, "and would you kindly send Rogue in? She has been awaiting her turn quite patiently."

Scott took a moment to catch on, but Jean sent him a small smile. "Of course, Professor."

Both teens left. A moment later, another teen poked her head in, looking bashful over being caught eavesdropping.

"Come on in, Rogue."

Rogue made her way in carefully and shut the door firmly behind her, as if coming to him was something embarrassing that she didn't want to be caught doing.

"Take a seat and tell me what's on your mind."

"Yeah, like ya don't know," she mumbled, but sat anyway.

He waited patiently for a couple minutes while she collected her thoughts… he could hear the gears turning in her head.

"Okay," she said at last, looking at her hands. "Here's the thing. Y'all remember those nightmares I told yeh 'bout?"

"The ones about being chased? Of course."

"Well, 'member how I said I recognized Mystique, but not the baby?"

"Yes, I remember."

She took a steadying breath. "Well, I think I recognize 'im now."

Charles paused, surprised. "Go on."

At last, Rogue met his eyes, her brows furrowed together. "It was Nightcrawler."

Charles felt himself go cold, but took great care not to show his concern. "Are you certain?"

"Yeh. Y'all don't see a face like that an' forget it, y'know?"

"No, no… of course not." Charles rubbed his hands together in front of him, his mind moving a mile a minute. Rogue did not understand the source of her dream, but Charles had his strong suspicions. And if it was true, and Rogue had correctly identified both people in the dream, then things were a great deal more volatile than he could have imagined.

"Professor… what does it mean?" she asked, an innocent question from a child who did not know the secrets she carried.

"I don't know, Rogue," answered a very troubled man who knew more than any man ever should. "And I fear that uncertainty could be our undoing."

End Episode 1