Innocent Of Evil... an Evo Story. [PG-13 for Adult Situation

[Nightmare]

“Innocent of Evil”

A tale of Evo Kurt and an OC. (Spawn of a rabid plot bunny that has resisted every effort of mine to ignore it. Here’s the opening, but I have to caution you not jump to conclusions about the OC, or the plot. You’ll be wrong, believe me.)

[My beta suggested I add an adult themes warning... There is some stuff not suitable for kids coming up, but nothing as explicit as my other story. ]


Just Busking For Trouble, pt 1.


The kid down the street was moving strangely, like his gait wasn’t quite in synch with his progress down the sidewalk. Jerrin liked to tease his mom about being a paranoid old bitch, but he’s still learned from her how to spot things that were out of place. He kept doing generic Blues riffs on his electric dobro while he kept the kid in his wide peripheral vision.

It was still hard not to use all six fingers in his picking, as his music was so much richer when he could play at his best. He was saving his voice because he didn’t have an audience at the moment. Street performance was all about pacing. Jerrin sighed. The kid walking towards him was starting to get annoying. His image flickered, like watching a television screen over a video feed.

He let the dobro hang from the strap, while he took a drink of water. Under the cover of that, he squinted off to the side, trying to see under the image field around the boy approaching. Whoa… Nightcrawler! Hmmm. That explained the oddness of his gait. His legs were slender, different from human norm in an elegant way. Digitigrade, even. He was cute, Jerrin noticed. With his eyes adjusted to see past the holo, the flickering wasn’t bothering him anymore. He brushed his dark hair out of his eyes. It was a cool trick, but his own disguise was better.

With the kid up close, Jerrin was ‘On’. He took up the dobro and struck a triumphant G major chord. “Hey, dude, what kind of tunes do you like? Let me play something for you!”

“Was?” The kid flinched and stared at him blankly at first. It would be a pity if he were cute but dumb. He went into a Blues progression in the Key of G.

“Music, dude. Songs. What would you like me to play for you?” He changed to a Rock progression in C.

“Oh. Um… Do you know… Die Beatles? They’re oldies, I know…”

“Ah. Naw, man; they’re Classic! You have good taste.” Native German speaker, educated, but not very urban. More of a provincial accent. Time to see how well the kid knew his Beatles and do something that was never played on the radio. He changed back to a Blues riff. “Yes, I’m lonely!” He played the riff again. “Wanna die!” Riff. “Yes, I’m loonely! Wanna die! If I ain’t dead already… whoo! Girl, you know the reason why…” The song continued in the same pessimistic vein, with an interesting style change half way through, just before a long guitar solo and the fade out.

“’Yer Blues’!” The kid looked pleased at his choice. "That’s a good one. You know any more?”

“Ja,” Jerrin said. He smiled and went into ‘Komm Gib Mir Deine Hand’. Yeah, the kid was into it now, maybe he’d leave a good tip. He was even dancing a little, though he was careful to keep his tail within his holofield. When he finished, he gave the kid a bow. “Danke schoen, und Ihr Name ist?"

“I’m Kurt Wagner. You speak German very well.” He sounded wistful.

“Danke, Kurt, I'm Jerrin. My mom taught me. She’s a real polyglot.” He did a quiet glissando down his strings. “Anything else you want to hear?”

“Something else in German?” Definitely homesick. Poor kid.

“Die Beatles only did four songs with German language in them. The one I just played, ‘Sie Liebt Dich’, the first part of a version of ‘My Bonnie Lies Over The Ocean’, and a pidgin-German version of ‘Get Back’. You might like this one, though.” He started into another song; ‘Ein Flug In Die DDR’.

His listener’s eyes grew very large but he waited until it was over to ask his question. “’Back In The USSR’? I’ve never heard that in German before… where did it come from?”

He smiled. “The Beatles Revival Band; a tribute band from Germany. Might be hard to find, but I think it’ll be worth your while. They’ve done whole albums of German covers like that.”

“Cool! Thanks so much, dude.” Kurt put a hand over his growling stomach. Jerrin noticed the holofield put his fingers in awkward poses, to account for his unusual hands. “Sorry, I’m really hungry, so I’ll have to see you later.”

Jerrin cleared his throat and subtly nudged his open guitar case with a foot. Kurt bit his lip and fumbled in his pockets, looking for cash. He frowned, smoothing the wadded bills out, looking like he was trying to figure what he could afford, and it wasn’t much. It was too funny to watch. “Never mind, friend,” he laughed. “Looks like you need it more than I do. Tell ya what; I need a lunch break, too. You show me where you’re so eager to get to, and lunch will be on me.”

He took the dobro’s strap from over his shoulder, and quickly and efficiently packed the gleaming brass instrument away. Throwing the padded case over his shoulder, he gestured for Kurt to show him the way. The kid held his place, though, looking stubborn. “But… don’t buskers need all their money? I can’t ask you to do that.”

“’Buskers’ is such an old word. We prefer ‘Street Performers’. And you didn’t ask; I offered. I always like to ask the locals where the best places to eat are. Show me?” Finally, Kurt started moving. With effort, Jerrin could see both the holo and the real boy at the same time “I’ll tell you a secret.” Yellow eyes turned back to him. “Truth is, I don’t need to do this. I just like to. It’s fun.” Kurt gave him a measuring look, and nodded. Jerrin knew he was healthy looking, with black hair, gray eyes, and no sign of drug use or privation. His clothes were clean, and his instrument was spotless and well cared for.

“I’ll let you buy me lunch, if you’ll tell me what it’s like to travel around, performing.”

“You got a deal, friend.”

[HoodedMan]

Ooh, I like that. I'm currently re-reading Bedlam's Bard (the best book in the world) so I like the plot bunny. I hope to see it developed more.

[Nightmare]

Just Busking For Trouble, pt 2.


“So,” Kurt said as they stood in front of the order counter. “What can you afford?” Jerrin pulled out a Platinum Visa and let him see it.

“Whatever you want. Busking is a hobby, not a living.”

Relieved, Kurt made a huge order, with Jerrin’s not being much less. As they sat in the far corner with their food, Kurt interrupted tearing into his first burger long enough to ask a question. “What do you do for a living?”

Jerrin smirked. “Busking.” Kurt scowled at him, and he laughed. “I’m more of a trust-fund baby; an unfortunate result of being born to rich and famous parents.”

“You call that ‘unfortunate’?” Kurt looked skeptical.

“It is when people figure they know you before they even meet you. Between the name and my parental resemblance, no one ever bothers to find out who I am… they just assume.”

“Actually, I know what you mean. I get that, too,” Kurt said.

I’ll just bet you do, Jerrin thought. Your mom is almost as infamous as mine. “Most people never bother to look beneath the surface, ya know?”

“Tell me about it, bro.” Kurt scarfed down a huge gob of fries and washed it down with soda. “When they judge you on your looks, what can you do?”

“Not a damned thing!” He held up his glass, and they knocked drinks together to toast the unfairness of it all.

“So why are you in the middle of Nowhere, New York, busking music?”

“Trying to find myself and my place in the universe. One thing I gotta hand to my mom; she knew when to let go. She taught me how to take care of myself, gave me enough money so I didn’t have to work, and wished me good luck.”

“She sounds cool. I’ve definitely got it worse, though. I never knew my mom growing up, and yet I’m still judged for what she’s done.” Kurt took off the lid of his soda, and looked at the brown ice inside as if for answers.

The feelings he had for the kid had evolved from a general sympathy to a true empathy… he could feel the melancholy oozing from him. He really is blue… Damn. That would never do. He couldn’t burden Kurt with his friendship. It would never work out, they were just too different. “It’s been real nice talking to you, Kurt, but I think it’s time I hit the road. I wanted to try my act out at Times Square… see what the City thinks of me.”

“Really?” Kid was easily impressed. “Wow, that’s cool. How are you getting there?”

“I was thinking the bus. You know where the station is?” He didn’t know why he’d asked that. He could find that out easily enough on his own. It couldn’t be that he just didn’t want to let him go yet, was it? Looking through the holo into the warm golden eyes beneath, he had to admit; it could be.

“Sure! I can show you… but then, I’ll have to go, too. I gotta get home and do my homework before dinner.” They cleaned up the remains and started off for the Greyhound station.

“Homework. I remember that.”

Kurt looked at him, surprised. “How old are you?”

“Seventeen. I graduated early and was emancipated. Mom pulling strings again, the old meddler.”

“You’re kinda rude about her, aren’t you?”

Jerrin felt a rueful expression on his face. “It’s kind of a love-hate relationship. I get along much better with my dad.”

“I don’t even know how my father was…” Kurt shut his mouth with a snap, and shot Jerrin a covert look as if he was worried he’d given something away.”

“Sorry to hear that. I hope you have positive male role-models, though.”

“Ja. Plenty of those around.”

They passed an alley where a cat’s meow got Kurt’s momentary attention. Jerrin felt a change in wind pressure, and had a flash of a dark shape on the street beside them before he and Kurt crashed together in a net that arced pain into him. Darts followed the net in short order, and he slipped into unconsciousness, felling Kurt collapse alongside him…

* * *

“Got him, sir. Had to get someone else with him.”

“Does that someone match any of the other profiles?”

“No, just some random kid… Hello!”

“What?”

“He’s not in the profiles, but he’s definitely a mutie. I don’t know why I couldn’t see it at first.”

“Show me.”

The hunter pulled away his flip-phone, and shot video of the second boy: Grayish toned skin, slightly pointed ears, and six-fingers on each hand.”

“That’s enough. Bring him along.”

“Yes, sir.” The hunter gestured to his accomplices to carry the mutants into the van, as he tossed the guitar case deep into the litter of the alley.

[HoodedMan]

I love that; that's a fascinating twist! I was wondering at first why he could see Kurt for what he was. And now I can feel the tension building up; I definitely look forward to updates! An excellent and exciting addition to one of your traditionally fantastic stories!

Keep it up!

[Nightmare]

Search Patterns


The mansion was on alert by dinnertime. For Kurt to miss dinner was unheard of. The residents were so upset that Charles left the table early to check Cerebro. The lack of any trace of him set the X-Men in gear.

Kitty had last see him near the end of the school day, but none of them knew where’d he gone after that. A flurry of phone calls went out as they checked with other classmates from Bayville High. Only one provided them with a lead. Todd, “the Toad” had been seen heckling Kurt just before their friend left campus.

The older students paid the Brotherhood a visit. Todd soon found himself jacked up against a wall by Scott and Jean. “What did you say to him?” Scott said sternly.

Todd nervously licked his lips. “What’d I say to who? C’mon guys… I’m one o’ the good guys now, ya know? You and us against Poccy-lips, trying to save the world?”

“That doesn’t mean that you all of a sudden like Kurt,” Jean said. “You were seen having words with him at school.”

“Is that what this is about, blue-boy? I didn’t say nothin’ to him, really… just teasin’ him, ya know?”

“Then what did he say to you?” Scott said.

“Put him down!” Lance had found them. “Why are you doing this?” The ground rumbled ominously.

“Hang on, Lance,” Kitty said, getting between them. “Kurt is missing, and Todd saw him last.”

“Fuzz-butt? What do you know about this, Toad?”

“Geeze, you, too? Look, he said he was hungry and didn’t have time for me. He went off humming that stupid jingle o’ that burger place.”

Scott let him go, and he slid down until his dangling feet hit the ground. “Thanks Lance, Todd, we’ll be in touch.”

It was dark by the time the mansion’s van dropped Logan off at the school gate Kurt used, and shadowed him as he tracked Kurt towards his favorite eatery. The traces indicated he’d kept up a good pace up until three blocks from the restaurant. There, mid block, by a low wall, he found a spot that Kurt had lingered at, intertwined with the scent of another person. Someone who smelled vaguely… lemony? “Hank, come and get this.”

Hank came out of the van in his floppy hat and voluminous coat. “What did you find, my friend?”

“He talked to someone here. That someone left this water bottle behind. Might be some clues on it.”

Hank pulled on heavy duty protective gloves that mashed his fur down comically. Reaching into his kit, he bagged the water bottle, and a candy wrapper near by it. “Did he seem all right here?”

“Yeah. No scent of him being upset or anything. Thought you might get some prints and DNA offa that.”

“Someone’s been watching CSI,” Hank teased, but Logan only grunted and continued to track.

Hank was climbing back into the van when Logan called back to him. “They walked from here, together.”

“Understood.”

At the burger joint, he talked to Sam, the manager. “Kurt is missing? Wow, he’s one of my best customers… he was just here. Mary, you remember Kurt being here today?”

“Yeah. He was with this new guy. You know Scott, right? Well he’s taller than Scott, and thin. Shoulder length dark hair, pale eyes, and he had a guitar. They acted normal, like they were friends.”

Logan looked around. “You actually record with those cameras? If you do, I’d like a copy of today’s tape.” He put a fifty on the counter. “This outta cover the blank.”

“No problem.” Sam went into the back, and came back with a tape. He pushed the fifty back. “I don’t need the money, sir.”

Logan grunted, and walked out with just the tape. In the parking lot they watched the tape in the van. Kurt looked perfectly at ease with the young man carrying the guitar case. At the flash of the credit card, he said, “Stop the tape,” and walked back inside. He came back with a photocopy of the credit card receipt. “He didn’t want to do this, but I pointed out Institute kids aren’t exactly ‘Amber Alert’ material.”

“A Mr. J. MacLean, expiration date in two years,” Hank read. The tape showed the two carrying on a lively conversation at the counter, mostly about food and music, from what Hank was able to lip-read. The angle on the back corner was of poorer quality, but the easy camaraderie was still evident, including the toast with the soda glasses. As the taped meal ended, the two started to leave. “I think I saw Mr. MacLean say ‘bus’,” he said. “So they may have been going to the bus station.” Logan nodded, and continued his tracking in that direction.

He stopped at an alleyway. “The scents changed here… I smell distress from both of ‘em.” He went past the alley mouth, and quickly returned. “They didn’t go on from here.”

“Could this MacLean guy have turned Kurt in to someone?” Scott said.

Logan waded into the alley, and came back with a dusty blue guitar case. “And he left this behind?” He opened the case and they looked at the brass-bodied, intricately decorated dobro.

“Think again, Scott.” Jean said. “That’s an expensive work of art, in my opinion. No one would just throw it away.”

Logan cast about from the mouth of the alley for hours after that, but he found no other traces.

[Nightmare]

A/N... I've written the equivalent of *THREE* SATK chapters on this thing in less than a week. I'm posting one a day until I have shown you all I have. I don't know how to end this... but the bunny won't leave me alone until what I have is done.
-=-

Vectors To Nowhere


This was not his bed. Kurt cracked his eyes open. Gray industrial walls, plain military-style bed, paper clothing… Mein Gott! Someone had taken him. He sat up suddenly, feeling queasy at the sudden movement. Still, he forced himself to stand, and stared hard at the corridor through the bars. He had to get out of here! Bam… He just made it to the stark toilet before he threw up. If he couldn’t port, he was trapped. He lost it; galloping in all directions around his cell in a panic, trying to find a way out.

“Kurt, stop it…” a voice said. “Kurt…” He found himself pulling on the steel bars with all his strength, growling as he tried to get free.

“KURT! Quit wasting your energy. That’s what they want.”

He knew that voice. Jerrin, the guitar player. “Gott, Jerrin, I’m so sorry. You’re here because of me, aren’t you?” Kurt could feel tears prickling in his eyes.

“Not really, freund. Come up to the front left of your cell. I know there’s a solid wall between us, but this should work.” Kurt moved to the corner, trying to see his companion.

“I’m here because I’m different, too.” A hand moved into Kurt’s view. It was strong, graceful, and possessing too many fingers. The tan and pink of Caucasian skin tones were altered by a definite blue-gray undertone. The hand flexed and the fingers moved, proving total control of all six fingers. “I have six toes on each foot, as well. So it’s not just you they want to study. They’ve already taken full X-rays and stuff, taken blood, and given us drugs.”

Kurt found a few needle marks on his arms. That much was true. “Why didn’t I see this about you before?”

Jerrin chuckled. “Why didn’t I really see you before? The blue furry guy I saw getting X-rayed in the lab wasn’t exactly the kid I treated to lunch. I was in disguise, same as you, and for the same reasons.”

“But how? You weren’t wearing a…”

“The walls have ears, Kurt. I will be omitting some truths to you, to prevent them from learning too much, but I won’t lie to you. I suggest you exercise the same caution about anything you don’t think they should know about, particularly about your friends.”

“Ja. That sounds like a good idea.”

* * *

Hank collected some good prints off the bottle and wrapper, but was having trouble making sense of them. The DNA from the saliva he’d encountered kept giving him a problem, crashing the software time and again. He’d gotten a full, clear thumbprint and had run it through the various databases to no avail. The man wasn’t in any records, and there was precious little to be discovered about a Mr. J. MacLean on the Internet, either.

Kitty sat with him the next day, after finding nothing on the ‘Net, and watched him push his preserved prints around, based on a thick book he had open on the science of fingerprints. “What’s the problem? You’ve got plenty of prints to work with.”

“Too many, my young friend. I have more than enough fingers to fill up a hand, and no sign that anyone but “J” handled these objects.”

“Didn’t Jean say his guitar was metal? Have you dusted it?”

“Ah! I didn’t think I needed to, with a surfeit of information already. But perhaps some context is needed…” Carefully, he opened the case, and started dusting the exposed top of the instrument. More prints and partials, mostly matching others he’d collected before, but the jackpot was at the base. There his brush revealed a partial handprint; Upper palm, side of the thumb… and five slender fingers, ending in clear prints.

He pondered while he collected and scanned the print. “It seems I had a presumption problem. I expected “J” to have a normal hand, as the videotape showed, but I was wrong. Maybe that was the problem with the DNA as well.”

He went to the recalcitrant machine, and changed the field that said ‘Human’ to ‘Unknown’. “This equipment can gene-type plants and animals as well as people, so maybe fewer assumptions here would also prove more fruitful.”

Kitty finished dusting the guitar while he altered the settings on the DNA machine. When he returned, she’d found a lower palm print, and she was manipulating the images on the monitor to create a complete hand print.”

Turning the instrument over in his hands, he studied the placement of the marks. “From these prints, he has full use of them.”

The printer started chugging out a result, the first one he’d gotten since he took on this project. “Interesting,” he said, as he read it. “There’s no sign of an X-Gene, and Mr. MacLean seems to have 30 Chromosome pairs.”

[HoodedMan]

Is the bunny heckling you again? :p I must say I'm impressed you can post a chapter a day. I can never find enough time for fanfics. I'm glad, however, that I at least have some time for reading them and I certainly enjoy reading this one! I look forward to tomorrow's addition!

[Nightmare]

You do the math... I wrote the first one the day before I posted it. I posted #4 today, and also finished writing #12!!! Since I average about 1k words per college lined front and back... I have sore fingers... And it's not done yet...

Next four will be them in the facility, with a P.S. of the X-Men's search efforts.

[Nightmare]

Ack, the board is censoring me... Have to rearrange a few "Censored Slurs".
-=-

Truths Can Hurt


“Help! I need somebody. Help! Not just anybody. Help, you know I need someone. Help!”

Kurt couldn’t believe what he was hearing… why was Jerrin singing? Oh, what the heck… he joined in to sing along. “When I was younger so much younger than today, I never needed anybody’s help in any way.” Their duet continued to the end of the first chorus. “…Help me get my feet back on the ground. Won’t you please, please, help me…”

“Shut up your screeching, you freaks,” a guard snapped. “It’s time for your nightly cocktail.”

Kurt came up the bars and presented his arm, and he could see Jerrin doing the same. It wasn’t worth fighting it. The man would just summon more guards and they would administer it anyway, along with a nice compliment of bruises.

“I’ll have you know that I expect tips after a performance of that caliber,” Jerrin said as Kurt was given his injection.

“My bosses want some info from you, fag-boy.”

He jabbed the needle into Jerrin’s arm, who winced audibly. “Is that so?”

“You’re not the average mutant, there’s a lot about you that’s unprecedented. We want to know why.”

“I’m not a mutant, at all. Everything that you have discovered about me is one hundred percent inherited. With individual variations, my powers, my characteristics, were passed down the same from my parents, my grandparents, and so on going back six generations, at least. Now, does that sound like I’m a mutant to you? Just because someone doesn’t look like you, ‘mutation’ isn’t the only answer.”

The guard gaped at him, and Jerrin continued conversationally. “Not that I have any problems with mutants. My buddy Kurt here is a far better person that you will ever be, of that I have no doubt.”

“So where are they, homo? Where is your kind?”

“They sure ain’t from around here, and I promise that you’ll never find them.”

“We will get it out of you, fag-boy, eventually.”

“No tonight, I think.”

The guard took his tray and left. When he was gone, Kurt spoke. “Why did you tell him all that?”

“Because it’s true, and they can’t cause any harm with it. Confusion to the enemy is a good tactic, sometimes.”

“Why did he call you a…” Kurt couldn’t bring himself to say it. It was as bad as the other ‘f’ word, in his opinion.

“I suppose because they imagine they can divine my orientation from peering at my innards. Like with most forms of divination, the results are likely to be skewed.”

“You didn’t deny it. Are you?” Jerrin didn’t answer. “Um… just asking, sorry.”

“Would denying it have mattered to them? And as for your question, it depends on whether you think bi-sexual counts.”

“Are you sure?” Kurt winced at the stupidity of the question.

“Sure that I’m bi-sexual? Just as certain that I have twelve fingers.”

* * *

Kid sounded spooked. It was understandable, though. The guard had broached the second biggest taboo in their culture. This experience was going to suck if Kurt stopped talking to him because of it.

“I’m sure God loves you anyway,” Kurt told him.

What? He started laughing, he couldn’t help it. “I’m sure that’s very generous of Him to forgive me for the way He made me.”

“Do you think that… orientation is genetic?”

That was a good question. After a pause he answered. “I think… that your question has a lot more connotations than you realize, or that I am willing to discuss at this time. Someday, when we get out of here, Kurt, ask me that again, and I will answer you.”

“I may hold you to that,” Kurt said. “Do you believe in God?”

“Oh, yes, I do. Like you, I have prayed for help to get out of here… but I know that the Lord works in His own time, and that sometimes the answer is ‘no’.”

“I prefer not to think like that.”

“Me, either.” After a while the silence became deafening. “So, what are your favorite foods?”

“Um, my very favorite? German bratwurst. Not those bland things you get in store packages, but real hand made and packed ones, in sauerkraut. Mmm.”

“Doing your Homer Simpson impression, I see.”

Kurt laughed, and a weight was lifted from Jerrin’s chest at the happy sound. “I like beef, most any kind, preferably rare. My own very favorite though, is Rabbit Tartar.”

“Raw rabbit? Ewwww.”

“Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it…”

“Pass, thanks.”

* * *

“We’re nearly there, Dr. McTaggert. After three attempts, under three different encryption algorithms, failed to delivery these research files to you, Kitty figured something was wrong. I really wanted you to see this information, and I didn’t want to risk the post, so here we are to see you, Moira.”

“I’ll be pleased for the visit, and so will Rahne, I’m sure. Are yuh staying for dinner, and maybe overnight?”

“If you don’t mind. I’d like to get your input on this…”

[Nightmare]

Changes Of Mind


A cramp woke Jerrin. A dull ache bloomed in his lower torso, and then faded. No. Damn it all. This was NOT a good time for this. He pried himself up to a cross-legged position and threw himself into meditating. Sometimes it could be delayed… put off, for a while. The Change made him so vulnerable… The pain returned, sharper. He sighed. It had been too long, almost a month. There was no way he could influence it this time. It was coming, ready or not.

He made himself as comfortable as he could. This end always seemed harder than the reciprocal Change, he didn’t know why. A quiet moan escaped him, and he heard Kurt get up. “Are you all right?” he said.

Such a sweet kid. Those bastards better not hurt him, or Jerrin would make some of his mother’s confrontations look like tea parties. “Just…” the word turned into a hiss. “…a belly ache. It will pass, they always do.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

He was not going to cry. That he could control, just barely. “You already are, just by caring. Thank you.”

“Can you talk?” Kurt said. “Get your mind off it?”

“I’d… rather not. I need to just lay here quietly.” He heard a shoe squeak done the hallway, and he sighed in resignation. Far be it for their captors not to exploit a moment of weakness.

“Get up, homo, before we drag you up.”

He levered himself to a sitting position, and with a groan got to his feet. Between the disorientating drugs they were both being given, and the Change, he could barely stand.

“Come on, snap it up,” the guard was smiling in cruel amusement.

“Trying…” he said through gritted teeth. He managed a few steps towards the door before they grabbed him by the arms and dragged him away.

* * *

Kurt was sleeping again when Jerrin’s cell door clanged shut again. He waited for the guards to leave. “Jerrin?”

“Hey, Kurt.” Jerrin’s voice sounded tired, and softer somehow.

He could feel himself fuming. “Did they hurt you?”

“Not really. The… belly ache came and went, and they poked and prodded me while it happened, but they didn’t do anything to make it physically any worse.”

“I don’t understand what you’re implying.” This was getting frustrating. There were times it seemed they weren’t even speaking the same language.

“It’s just embarrassing to be stared at when I was in pain. It could have been a lot worse.”

“So how could it have been worse?” What was he talking about?

“’How’ he says…” He heard Jerrin grunt as he changed positions. “Let’s put that in the ‘Ask me later’ column, ok?”

“If you say so, dude, but I gotta tell you, you’re running a deficit here.” He knew they were being listened to, but Jerrin kept doing this obscure routine over the strangest of topics.

“I can always inquire about your parents again.”

“Let’s not, shall we?” Now that was just playing dirty. “Which of your parents do you resemble?”

“Do you have to ask? My mom, of course. I’m the bloody spitting image of her. Lately people have to do a double take to tell us apart… from a distance, of course. She may have a few white hairs, but she’s pretty well preserved. My sister, now, she looks like Dad.”

Kurt was fascinated. “How well do they get along?” Jerrin didn’t open up about his family much, except for his complaints about his mother.

“Swimmingly. It’s rather annoying. I chalk it up to him not having anything to prove. Some folks say he’s dumber than a box of rocks because nothing ever scares him. I always kind of admired that, though.”

“Is she older than you, or younger?”

“Older, by less than a year. We were raised to be pretty close. Still, I was the one who left home first. Had to get some distance from the maternal unit.”

“I prefer mine to keep her distance, too.” He thought for a moment, and then said, “I have a sister.”

“Seriously? What is she like?” Jerrin even sounded interested.

“Well, she’s a foster-sister, but she’s all that I have… that I can trust.”

“You get to see her much? I haven’t seen Jolie in a while.”

“All the time, she lives at the… my home.” He probably didn’t need to shield the mansion, but why risk it?

“Ah, so she’s the one,” Jerrin said. “Used to work for the other side?”

“How do you know about that?” Kurt demanded.

“You guys are in the news a lot, dude. I’ve studied the X-Men, and she was first reported working for the other team.”

“We got her away from them. I didn’t know she was my sister then, but we’re a family now.”

“Family is important, Kurt. But friends are the family you chose.”

“I so agree.”

* * *

“There’s a computer worm out there, Professor. Its job seems to be to seek out any compromise to MacLean’s information, and kill it. The programmer must be a master hacker… I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Is this why the Internet searches have proven less than effective?”

“I doubt anyone else could do better against it. I saw a page of credit purchases vanish before my eyes. It’s a deliberate effect all right.”

“Any thoughts, Kitty?”

“Maybe I can go about it backwards, working on the assumption of its presence. I’ll let you know, Professor.”

[Maelstrom]

Why is it that the first time I saw the info about Jared's "infamous mom", I thought of Morgan Le Fay? I'm probably way off base about it, but still, that's the first "infamous lady of power" that came to mind....

[HoodedMan]

Ah. I like it! Interesting twist to the story, which is what I like so much about this story. I foresee some future twists too... (which isn't fair but there you go :p)

I didn't notice these chapters had been posted before I blearily put my comments on the next chapters, so ignore some of my more irrelevant notes. :p

[Nightmare]

Q Is For ‘No Quarter’


“Ah, I don’t flippin’ believe it. Less than a week? That has got to be some sort of record.” Kurt could hear Jerrin grumbling to himself.

“Another bellyache? How often do you get them?”

“Yes, another. And at the most I average a couple times a month. It’s… a genetic problem, endemic to my family. I think all the stress is getting to me.”

“You don’t sound as bad this time.”

“Yeah. This end isn’t as rough on me, usually. And before you ask, that statement is definitely in the ‘Later’ column.”

“Do you think they’re going to come for you again?”

“I know they will. Time for me to get stared at again.”

“I don’t understand, why are they so interested in your bellyaches?”

“Why indeed? Because fundamentally, Kurt, you’re odd on the outside, but compared to me, you’re pretty normal internally. I listened to them talk when they had me in there last time. You have a few structural differences from your bones and tendons and the like, and your metabolism is altered, but apart from that, your body works pretty much like anyone else. On the other hand, I look pretty normal, but my internals are very different. As examples, my heart and other organs aren’t in the usual places, and I have two rib cages. One’s like yours, and the set inside has ribs that cross the first bunch to make a stronger chest vault. And my body metabolizes and stores energy in a unique fashion. Bluntly speaking, the eggheads have been having a field day with me.”

He sounded so bitter about it. “I wish I could help you.”

He gave a big sigh. “So do I. They’re coming, so I’ll see you later.”

Kurt pressed up to the front of the cell, but he couldn’t see much of his friend in between the guards that were half leading, half dragging him away.

* * *

When they brought Jerrin back, they took Kurt away to the lab. They nearly had to carry him, because his equilibrium was seriously toasted by the same drugs that made Jerrin dizzy. He sounded strangely annoyed when he returned. “You’re right. All they could talk about was how essentially normal I was, compared to you." Petulance did not become the kid.

“You sound jealous. Don’t think I’m enjoying the attention.”

“I’m not… really. But, everyone makes such a big deal about how different and scary I am, and now this?”

“You ‘re not scary, Kurt. Not to me.” Never have been.

“How would you know? You’ve never seen me up close. I’m just a voice from the wall to you.”

“About that. One of the things that are different about me is my eyes. I could see your holofield; I could see right through it. I knew who you were before you even got up to me on the sidewalk.”

“You saw me… the real me… face to face… and you never even blinked?”

“I’ve seen stranger folks than you, friend.”

“That’s hard to believe, except for maybe your mother.”

Jerrin laughed until he cried. “Oh, Lord! There’s no one stranger. Thanks, Kurt. I really needed that.”

“You’re welcome. The strange thing is, they’re more scared of you than they are of me.”

“You’re a solved problem. A mutant. They know what mutants are, and how they come about. In general terms, they know where you’re from. But me? I’m an unknown. They don’t know what I am, where I came from, or what I’m doing here. They haven’t believed me when I told them I was just a tourist.” He could almost hear Kurt thinking.

“You’re not a mutant, and you’re not human, either. Who are you?”

Ah, the six million dollar question. “Thanks for not saying ‘what are you’. I guess you could you say I’m an alien. We call ourselves the Qard.”

Silence from the other cell. “Like, playing cards?”

“Uh, no. Homophone problems. Q-A-R-D. The eggheads think I’m part of some invasion force. I laughed at them. I’m here because none of my family would come to this rock, and I needed some space.”

“Are you like the Q?” Kurt watched way too much television.

“I wish. The Q wouldn’t be affected by these pesky drugs.”

“So, you wanted ‘to find yourself and your place in the universe’. I always wondered why you didn’t say ‘in the world’.”

“Well, now you know...”

* * *

“I’m making progress, Professor. The worm is squelching information from three sources. Here, Dr. McTaggert, and a private facility in the U.S. And the only reason I can think of that it would be targeting them is…”

“…If they are also trying to pass on detailed information about Mr. MacLean.”

“Exactly. Just his name doesn’t trigger the worm. Only if you dig into his activities or put up any biologic information is the flag thrown up. I’m trying to track down the owners and address of the place, but I’m so worried. It’s been a couple of weeks now.”

“I know, Kitty. I’m worried, too. But I am very proud of the information you’ve been turning up. Keep working on it.”

“I will, sir. I won’t stop until we get him back.”

[Nightmare]

A New Approach


“I had a girlfriend,” Kurt said. “She even knew who I really was.”

The kid sounded depressed. “How’d that happen?”

“I had… a watch malfunction, at school. She saw the real me, and thought I was interesting. We went to a dance together, and I told her the truth, but she already knew. It was so… wonderful.”

“What happened?” Least he could do was offer a friendly ear to him.

“Her dad… didn’t like me. First because I was… ‘white’, and German, and second, because he found out I was a mutant. We were seeing each other anyway, and then…”

“Then what?” This story was not going to have a happy ending.

“Then he got this great job out of the area. They moved away. At first we said it didn’t matter, that distance couldn’t part us. I’ve been spending all my money on flowers and cards… but it’s not the same.”

Long distance relationships really sucked, so he’d been told.

“She doesn’t call as often anymore… well, before this all happened. I think she’s getting used to her new life there. Maybe it would be best if… best for her if… we just ended it. Not that we ever did anything more than kiss and hold hands. That probably sounds stupid to you.”

“Believe it or not, you’re ahead of me there. I’ve never had a romantic relationship; girlfriend or boyfriend.”

“But how do you know you’re bi-sexual if you’ve never…”

“I didn’t say I’d never, just that it wasn’t romantic.”

“I… don’t think I’m understanding you. Is this a ‘later’?”

“In part. Mind you, different peoples: different customs. Age of Decision with my kind is fifteen. On that day, it’s traditional for the new adult to be initiated into the ‘adult conspiracy’, as it were, by trusted grownups. So, I have had sex, with a loving couple who showed me the ropes, but like I said, it wasn’t romantic.”

“What is the difference, for you?” Kid was really trying to understand, and not judge him.

“Sex is a physical act, romance is an emotional one... Wait, that’s not what I’m trying to say. Romance is with someone who could become your mate, your life partner, your own. Sex without that is… masturbation with friends. Fun, but not fulfilling. There’s no way I could, or would, become part of the bond between the two who initiated me, so there was no romance involved.”

“That’s really strange. So to you, romance is the same as love?”

“Close. Romance can lead to love. Love is when you decide to form a bond with someone. A bond not entered into lightly, and one not meant to be broken. Ever.”

“I wish you luck in finding it, Jerrin.”

Oh, if the kid only knew what he was saying, and how Jerrin felt about him. But it was probably for the best if he never knew. "For what it’s worth, I think you might have made the right decision about your girl. But if I can offer some advice?”

“If you want to.”

“Let her know what you’re thinking. Ask her to think about it honestly. Making a decision like that unilaterally will only you cause you both pain in the long run.”

“Yeah, I can see that. She’d wonder why I’d changed, and get upset…”

“…And take it out on you, and what might become a friendship would be ruined. It’s just advice, though. It’s up to you.”

* * *

Day and night were blurred here. Kurt slept when he was sleepy. The only clues to the time of day where that they were probably only taken to the lab in the daytime, and the guard said their injections were nightly.

“Up freaks. Time for your cocktails. You first, Homo.”

“Oh, Joy. I feel so honored.” Jerrin sounded tired.

“What have we here? Good, the bosses have been waiting for this…”

“What’s it to you? You’ve got your films. Ow.”

“Hehe, you’re gonna love this, fag-boy.” The guard chuckled, and went to Kurt’s cell. “Here’s a new recipe for you. Enjoy.”

The drugs… felt different. It burned in his veins, and made him feel lightheaded. More guards arrived and entered Jerrin’s cell.

“What are you…? No, stop it, now!” Kurt could hear him swearing and struggling next door, but he… he was burning up, and his vision was blurring. Things like ‘hold it down’, ‘damnit’, and ‘get its legs’ floated through the air like tangible objects.

His paper garments were stifling, and he tore them off. He tried to shout at them to leave his friend alone, but all he could hear was growling and howls before the world fell into darkness.

* * *

“Got ‘em, sirs! Sorry it took another week.”

“I’m sure you did your best, Kitty.”

“I have the address, and get this, they’re affiliated with SHIELD. There’s no sign the flagged information is being passed to them, so I don’t think they know about this. How soon can we hit them?”

“Patience, Kitty. The connection to SHIELD complicates things, but we should be able to get him back soon.”

“I’ll go give Fury a call. He still owes us a few, and he hates spending his bucks on rogue-ops types. At least, they better be rogue-ops. I’m gonna be pissed if he knew about this…”

[Nightmare]

Go Where The Evidence Leads


“You sure you want to go in first?” Fury said.

“Yep, some of ours are in there. But don’t worry; we won’t bust the place up. Shadowcat followed that danged virus into their systems, and she can trigger their intruder control gas, and purge it before we go in.”

“Impressive. Get your people and any information on them, and get out of there. I want this place under seal ASAP.”

“I’ll letcha know when we’re on our way out.”


Kitty set off the gas, and when it cleared they moved in. Woverine sent the X-Men after the computer records, while he tracked the kids. He found the cells where they had been held, and found himself struggling to sort out MacLean’s scent. It was… confusing.

He moved on, following his nose, and reached a large, open chamber. Inside, he stopped short, and stared at the people he was looking for.

“Christ, kid… what the hell happened to you?”

* * *

Kurt hurt all over, and he had the worst hangover, ever. He groaned, because he just knew how much it was going to hurt to open his eyes. “Das muß wirklich starkes Bier gewesen sein.”

“Kurt, are you all right?”

Verdammt. Dr. McCoy. Did they catch him drinking? He couldn’t remember.

“That isn’t any beer you’re suffering from, Elf. You’ve been drugged for weeks, from what we’ve been able to tell. Not that your buddy here has been any help to us.”

“Buddy?” Wincing, he pried his eyes open, and tried to sit up. “Oooh…” Dr. McCoy raised the bed up, and Kurt looked around. There was Dr. McCoy, Logan, and… someone else in the next bed. He was tall, thin, with black hair. His pale skin was an unhealthy color, and his expression was drawn and grave. A procession of bandages marched from both sides of his neck down to each bicep. Arched eyebrows and bluntly pointed ears gave him a rakish air.

The young man’s attention was directed downward, where he was steadily polishing a brass guitar in his lap. Kurt had an image of seeing that guitar flash in the same sunlight that danced in gray eyes…

He covered his face. Memories crashed into him. Dancing to the music, eating fries, talking about their mothers. Their cells… and endless days of careful conversations. He remembered it all, now, except about the bandages. Had they done that to him? “Jerrin?” The other boy looked up at him. His eyes, more silver than gray, were uncharacteristically solemn.

A tight smile curled his lips, but it didn’t quite reach those eyes. “Hey, Kurt. Your sister was in here, earlier. That’s quite a temper she has.”

“Ja. She’s a real firecracker if you get her angry.” He frowned. “Where did you get those?” He gestured at the bandages.

Jerrin shook his head. If you don’t remember, I won’t tell you. All I will say is, you’ve lost a week of memories.” His eyes dropped back down to the guitar. “Perhaps for the best,” he said softly.

“Is this a ‘later’?” Kurt tried to smile about it, but Jerrin didn’t respond in kind.

“That’s in the ‘never’ column, unless you remember on your own, first.”

“Aw, c’mon, man. You know that isn’t fair!”

The silver eyes closed. When he spoke, it was nearly in a whisper. “Kurt… what happened last week… was bad. Much worse that the two before. You should thank God you don’t remember, and I consider it a gift from Him that you don’t. Please, don’t ask me to tell you…” He put the guitar away, and looked at the adults. “Now that I know what he remembers, I’m ready to answer some of your questions now.”

“’Some’, huh? Maybe we should ask the Professor along.”

“Professor Xavier has already discovered that he can’t break my shields.”

“That’s true,” said Charles from the doorway. “But I hope you’ll be more forthcoming than you’re indicating. I’m glad to see you up, Kurt. I’m sure this won’t take long.”

* * *

Jerrin MacLean limped to a chair, and sat down heavily. He sighed and looked up at them.

“You had sex with him,” Logan said bluntly.

The boy’s mouth quirked. “As I’m sure you’ve discovered, it’s more that he had sex with me. The drugs we were both given made it a one sided deal. I couldn’t prevent it from happening, and he wouldn’t let me reciprocate when I tried.”

“So you did try!” Logan spat the words accusingly.

“I do like him, and I’m bi-sexual. When I couldn’t stop him from… forcing me, I made the best of the situation. But when I made overtures, in the state he was in he wasn’t interested.”

“’Bisexual’ is an understatement,” Hank said. “You’re a fully functional hermaphrodite.”

“Born and bred,” he acknowledged. “I was taught never to push my attentions on anyone.” That tight smile appeared again. “It seemed that Kurt-under-the-drugs had no such compunctions.” He sighed again. “I don’t blame him… really I don’t. He was… primal… even preverbal. The Kurt I knew wasn’t behind his eyes. The only ones that I blame are the people in the lab, not him.”

[Nightmare]

Let It Be


“May I have your attention, everyone. This is the gentleman who underwent the recent unpleasantness along with Kurt. Jerrin, I hope you accent my invitation to stay, if only for a while.”

“For a while, sir. It’s very gracious of you to ask, as I don’t think I’m ready to head out on the road just yet.” He gave a careful little bow to the Professor, while leaning on the cane Dr. McCoy loaned him.

Kurt stepped forward, “He’s a good friend.” He put his hand on Jerrin’s shoulder. “He got me through a difficult time, just by being there.” Under his hand felt a momentary flinch… something he never would have expected from Jerrin, who had smiled into his eyes from the very first. It pained him to feel it.

“I’m sorry, Kurt,” Jerrin said softly. “I’m a little jumpy still.” He moved slowly out into the room with the help of the cane, silver eyes taking in the residents with interest, but with only a shadow of his former vitality and confidence.

It was quiet, very quiet for a moment. Jean cleared her throat. “So, can you play that thing?” She was looking at the case Kurt was carrying.

Kurt grinned. “Oh, can he! Here, sit, and play something, please?”

The first hint of a genuine smile crossed Jerrin’s face. “Of course. Anything to please the audience.” He accepted the case, and took out the instrument, called a dobro, Kurt had been told. He plucked the strings one at a time, and made a minor adjustment. Elegant hands caressed the strings, and he started with a few chords of what sounded like early rock… and then, let them fade away.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do that one, right now.” He closed his eyes, and his left hand moved, making silent chord shapes while his right hand stayed still. Finding something that worked, he opened his eyes again, and played softly, looking at Kurt.

“When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me, speaking words of wisdom; Let it be.
And in my hour of darkness, she is standing right in front of me, speaking words of wisdom; Let it be.
Let it be, let it be. Let it be, let it be. Whisper words of wisdom; Let it be.

“And when the broken hearted people living in the world agree, there will be an answer; Let it be.
For though they may be parted, there is still a chance that they will see, there will be an answer; Let it be.
Let it be, let it be. Let it be, let it be. Yeah, there will be an answer; Let it be.
Let it be, let it be. Let it be, let it be. Whisper words of wisdom; Let it be…”

Kurt’s eyes watered with a sense of sadness he couldn’t understand. Jerrin turned away, and finished the song, with a skill and emotion that touched everyone in the room. Leaning back, the singer smiled at Kurt. “It was either that, or ‘Hey Jude’.”

“What were you going to play before?” Kurt said.

“I was going to play ‘Sie Liebt Dich’, but I’m not feeling perky enough.” Kurt could see a familiar bit of mischief in his eyes.

“Perky, eh?” Kurt broke into a chuckle. “Heh, perky!” Jerrin nudged the case over to him, and Kurt made a show of looking through his empty pockets. Find a bit of lint-fuzz, he deposited it with a flourish into the case.

Jerrin looked at the fuzzy speck, and chuckled himself. “Well, it’s more than I got out of you last time,” he muttered. Looking up, he bowed his head, “Thank you for your contribution.” He leaned over with a wince and packed the dobro away again, setting it to the side. Levering himself up, he looked at the Professor. “Is there anything I can do to prepare for dinner? I may be a guest, but I want to help.”

“Would you and Kurt like to set the table?” Charles asked.

“Of course, sir, anything I can do, just ask.” They went into the kitchen, and started setting up for dinner. For some reason it looked like Kitty was following them, but when Kurt turned around, she was walking away…

* * *

The next night, the new guy was leaning on a balcony, looking at the moon. Kurt was being distracted by Jamie, who’d been bribed to ask for help with his homework. Kitty shared the suspicions she had with the other young people, and they’d discussed what should be done. ‘We ask him to leave,’ Rogue had said. ‘He don’t belong here, and he knows it.’ Tonight they came out on the balcony for the confrontation.

Jerrin turned around. He bowed his head, leaning on the railing. “Miss Pryde, and company.”

“We know what you did to him, and we’re not going to stand for it,” she said.

He cocked his head, but said nothing in response.

“We’ve pieced it together, and it’s not a pretty picture.” She counted on her fingers. “One. Neither of you had any clothes on when they found you. Two. You were found together. Three. I helped Dr. McCoy add a new DNA sample to his database on you, and it wasn’t saliva. Four. I’m the one who decrypted those lab hard drives, and I found some pretty incriminating images.”

He clapped his hands, sarcastically slow. “Very good. But has it occurred to you that there might be more going on here than you realize yet?”

“So tell us what that might be, then?” she challenged.

“I wouldn’t tell them that, and they know more than you do. Why should I talk to you lot?”

“What-ever,” said Rogue. “The way you look at him, and the way he follows you around… it’s a disgrace. If you give a damn about him at all, you know you’re no good for him. So why are you still hanging around?”

He looked down at the tiles, and nodded. “I’ve been asking myself that, for very different reasons than you imagine.” He sighed. “I presume you brought my guitar?” Scott shoved the case at him.

Jerrin held it before him, and closed his eyes. A soft silver mist flickered into existence, forming around him and the guitar in a thick outline. He looked up, and suddenly the misty outline was empty… and was blown apart by the evening breeze.

[Nightmare]

Under Pressure
[This chapter is R for small sections of content.]

Thanks for answering my question, Zamweasel. Seems awfully tame to me, but my tolerance for such things is legendary. I liked Urotsukidoji.



IoE 11 - Under Pressure.

[Nightmare]

Exhaustion


They were halfway to the City when Jean straightened up. “The Professors said you’ve got the right idea, Kurt. Mr. Logan went to the bus station, and MacLean was in there last night, buying a ticket to New York.”

Kitty had camped in front of the computer station, doing something with it. “What did he do for money? The lab guys took his card, and we didn’t find it.”

Kurt shrugged. “Maybe it was in his case.” He looked blankly at the passing landscape. Kitty couldn’t or wouldn’t face him, and Scott busied himself driving, leaving Jean and Rogue to take turns between navigating and trying to keep him from falling apart.

And he… he was examining every facet of himself, trying to find the flaw that made him… He shook his head, refusing to pursue the thought. It kept returning, with the result that he was mentally chasing his tail the whole trip. When they gave him food, he ate it, but that comment was probably the first words he’d spoken since they’d set out.

It took Scott a while to find a parking place near the Square, and while he looked for one, Kitty came over to him. “Kurt, I’m really sorry… I’ve been working on these…” She handed him a printout. On it he saw it had the words “Missing” in big letters at the top. Under that was a photo of a serious Jerrin under his illusion ability, next to a picture of the open blue case with the dobro inside. Lastly was Jerrin’s name and description.

He smiled sadly at her. “Thanks a lot, Kitty. This should help.” She passed them out to the others, and they made their way to the Square. They pestered the tourists, panhandlers, hustlers and assorted freaks that haunted the place, showing them the flyer.

Finally one flamboyant individual remembered something useful. His purple Mohawk matched his eye shadow and lipstick, and the metal studs in his face echoed the ones in his leather clothing. “Yeah, I saw him. He’s got it bad, poor dear. He’s over there, playing every broken-hearted love song in the Beatles catalog. He’s tripping me out, actually.”

Only Rogue’s grip on his arm made Kurt to stay and hear him out. The moment the man finished talking Kurt tried to pull away, but she wouldn’t hear any of it. “We stick together!”

“Absolutely,” Scott agreed. As they headed in the direction Mohawk-man had pointed, they could hear Jerrin performing ‘Yesterday’. When he finished there was a scattering of applause from his listeners, and a rustle and jingle of money into his case.

The singer drank some water, and then his shoulders hunched when they approached from behind. “I don’t have anything else to say to you. I did what you asked.”

“Even to me? I had to find you,” Kurt said. Jerrin turned around and Kurt gasped. The haunted look on his face was matched only by the one Kurt saw in his reflection.

“You shouldn’t have come, Kurt. I’m fine, really.” His speaking voice was weary and nearly devoid of inflection.

Kurt snorted. “You look as fine as I feel. I remember, Jerrin. And I need to talk to you about it. Not to mention that you promised to explain a lot of things to me, and you haven’t done that yet.”

Dark gray eyes closed. “Dear Lord, no.” He sighed. “And what about them?”

“We’re sorry,” Scott said. “We shouldn’t have judged you like that. You were right, we didn’t understand what was going on.”

“And the point is,” Rogue said, “Kurt can’t get over this without you.”

“So please come back,” Kitty said. “We… We only…” She burst into tears.

“… We only wanted to protect him,” Jean finished for her.

“Is this what you want?” he asked Kurt. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I can’t… deal with this… by myself. I need your help.” He put his hand on Jerrin’s shoulder, watching him stiffen slightly, eyes flickering to look at Kurt’s hand, and then back to his face.

“As you wish.” Kurt recognized the Princess Bride quote, but Jerrin wouldn’t meet his eyes as gathered up the cash he’d received and packed his case. He walked across the Square and approached a ragged-looking woman holding a sign that said “Kids/Sick/Hungry”. He handed her the money. “Go. Put this somewhere safe.” Kurt immediately added his own cash, as the woman thanked them heartily.

“But you don’t know what she’s going to do with it,” Kitty said.

Jerrin smiled at her. “That’s not the point of giving, which is to plant seed in a spirit of hope.” Scott pulled out his wallet and gave the woman all his bills; almost at the same time that Jean did the same. Kitty shrugged and joined in. “Be safe, sister. Use well what we have given you.”

“Bless you, sir. I will.” She hurried away.

Kurt heard him whisper, “I can use all the blessings I can get.” In the van, he settled in the back. As they left the City, he started singing, a’ capella…

“I'm so tired, I haven't slept a wink. I'm so tired; my mind is on the blink.
I wonder should I get up, and fix myself a drink…No, no, no.

“I'm so tired, I don't know what to do. I'm so tired; my mind is set on you.
I wonder should I call you, but I know what you would do:

“You'd say, I'm putting you on, but it's no joke, it's doing me harm.
You know I can't sleep, I can't stop my brain. You know it's three weeks, I'm going insane.
You know I'd give you everything I've got, for a little peace of mind

“I'm so tired, I'm feeling so upset. Although I'm so tired, I'll have another cigarette.
And curse Sir Walther Raleigh; he was such a stupid get.

“You'd say, I'm putting you on, but it's no joke, it's doing me harm.
You know I can't sleep, I can't stop my brain. You know it's three weeks, I'm going insane!
You know, I'd give you everything I've got, for a little peace of mind.
I'd give you everything I've got for a little peace of mind.
I'd give you everything I've got for a little peace of mind…”

“Isn’t that word pronounced ‘git’?” Jean said.

“Who am I to argue with Mr. Lennon? Besides, he’s dead.” His head drooped, then lifted again. “I actually know more than just Beatles songs,” he said, to no one in particular. “Mom is quite fond of the Moody Blues. I even do modern stuff.” He shook his head, blinking hard. “It’s just… I haven’t slept in days… and it’s all that’s coming to mind.”

“You should rest. It’s a long drive back to Bayville.” Kurt laid the padded case along the back wall, and put his jacket on top of it.

“Thank you, Kurt.” He laid his long body down, his feet reaching up to the second row of seats. Kurt sat on the side bench in the back to keep him company. Jerrin turned, struggling to find a comfortable position, then settled. Just before his eyes closed, he curled his hand over Kurt’s tail where it lay on the floor.

Kurt looked down, surprised. He encircled the hand with a loop of blue, and felt a gentle squeeze in return. That trusting grip enabled Kurt to finally doze off as well.

[HoodedMan]

Just a note to other readers: I'm a beta reader, so I usually don't comment on work I helped on... but COME ON!

This is a fantastic story; at least I love it. And I know Nightmare's worried about offending anyone. I can't understand that, but it could happen. If so, post!

Criticism shapes an author from the very beginning, as long as it's constructive. I'm sure Nightmare (though I can't speak for anyone else) would love to hear comments, and I know I'd like to hear some.

[Nightmare]

Aw, thanks Hooded. I appreciate it. Maelstrom... you amused my husband, who always thought that "Mom" was a bitch. And lastly, thanks Zam for her polite opinion on the rating of "Under Pressure".

---
Some ‘Laters’ Are Now


The tail gently left his hand and he woke, looking up at Kurt. The kid looked mussed, like he’d been sleeping too. Good. “We’re here?” Kurt nodded. “I’ll stay as long as you need me to stay, but I can do without the ‘homo’ routine from anyone.” He shrugged. “I can’t help what I am.”

Kurt helped him up, and took the case as they left the van. “Will you finally tell me what you mean by that?”

The erstwhile lynch mob hung around to hear the answer, as Scott hung up the keys. “Remember when you asked me if I thought bi-sexuality was genetic?” Kurt nodded again. “For my race, it is. I am physically, and anatomically bi-sexed. Dr. McCoy properly described me as a hermaphrodite, except I’m never both genders at once. I’m either one, or the other, or in between. I think the trendy term for it is ‘Intersexual’.”

Kurt’s tail perked up. “Thank Gott. I thought I was going crazy. I couldn’t understand… why in some of my memories you’re…” His cheeks turned dark, almost purple, “…you’re a girl.” Kurt couldn’t meet his eyes from his embarrassment… but the disgust and homophobia that Jerrin was afraid he would feel in him simply wasn’t there.

Jerrin sat on the hood of a car in the garage, and reached for his guitar case. Unzipping a compartment in the lid, he flipped through some papers before pulling out two portrait photos. He handed them to Kurt. “This is my immediate family. That’s Mom, Dad, and my sister Jolie with me, all in our usual genders.” A dark haired woman with Jerrin’s features and a confident expression stood next to an athletic man with golden brown hair and beard. In front of them were Jerrin, and a green eyed girl with her father’s hair. “That’s Jo and I in the second one, too, but in that one we’d each Changed.”

Kurt was gazing at the second photo. In it, a female version of Jerrin was sharing a smile with a blonde-brown youth. “You do resemble your mother… but … I have seen this girl. I know her.”

Biblically, Kurt, but let’s not get into that. “Compare my female form to Mom. It’s spooky.” Kurt shook his head in amusement, and Jerrin plucked the photos from Kurt’s hands and handed them to the others. It was interesting to see their expressions, as if seeing pictures of his family made him less of a stranger.

“What do you mean, your ‘usual genders’?” Kitty asked.

“Maybe you should finish this inside,” Logan said, as he joined them. “In the rec-room please, so the younger kids don’t have to hear about it.” Scott handed him the photos, and he looked at them as he waved them out of the garage.

“Jamie is the youngest, and he already knows about my part in this,” Kurt said. “Why not let him hear the rest, so he doesn’t think the worst of me?” Logan threw up his hands, and gave the pictures to the Professor.

Jerrin walked stiffly to the couch and sat. “A Qard’s gender is one third willpower, one third hormonal cycles, and the last third is environmental, including things like circumstances, stress, and emotional upset. That’s only one third I have direct control of. I have a slight preference to the masculine, and if things are going well, I can manage to stay that way about two-thirds of the time. However, things have not been going well lately. Does that answer your question?”

“So, you can really be on both sides of the gender gap?” Jean said.

“Not at the same time. I switch sides. Technically, we’re gender neutral, as our putative genders are preferential only.” He looked at Hank. “I’m sure you’ve watched the films they took of me. Did you notice the asexual state I passed through each time?”

“I did. I must say I was horrified at the barbarity they subjected you to.”

“Nothing like being strapped naked to a table under a bunch of cameras while my body parts re-arranged themselves. Twice.”

“They filmed the ‘staring’ you talked of.” Kurt looked upset.

Jerrin nodded. “Male to female is the harder Change. Female to male is always easier to me, for some reason. That’s something else I promised to explain when we got out of there.”

“Didn’t you think you could have told me? They already knew… the only one who didn’t know was me. Was it funny to conceal it?” Kurt wasn’t just upset, he looked positively wounded.

“I am sorry. You’ve experienced unwarranted hate because of your mutation. Homophobia and its relatives are just as hurtful. I considered you a friend, and I didn’t want to risk that. Your ‘God loves you anyway’ comment told me you weren’t immune to that kind of attitude. What did you expect me to say? It was bad enough they were calling me a homo. Your society says that people who don’t fit the rigid ‘normal’ gender roles are dangerous and perverse. I was weak enough to want to shield the one normal interaction I had in there from that kind of stress.”

Kurt bowed his head, looking pensive. “You feared I would react badly.”

“What would you think if I said ‘God loves you anyway’ about you being a mutant, or a German, or any kind of minority? There’s a patronizing condemnation inherent in the statement, just as odious as what you said to me.” Kurt winced, and nodded his understanding.

Jamie looked puzzled. “What happens to your…” He made a gesture near his belt-buckle. “…uh, ‘guy stuff’ when you’re a girl?”

Nuh-uh, little boy. Not even. “I understand your curiosity, but perhaps you should ask your teachers about that. Dr. McCoy has all the information if he feels it is appropriate to share it with you.” Or you should wait another ten years. If Kurt asked about that, on the other hand… “This is the way my people are, and I won’t apologize for it.” He yawned. Too much talking, not enough sleep. “And while I got a nap in the van, I’m very tired. I know we haven’t had our talk yet, Kurt, but I hope I’ve made some things clear.”

“My memories make a little more sense now. The rest can wait, I guess.” Kurt’s tail twitched, and he didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands.

Something was still eating at him. “Not all of it, though,” Jerrin said. “Does anyone mind if we have a private chat up in my room before I pass out? No? Good.” He got up and struggled up the stairs, not giving anyone a chance to raise an objection. Kurt came with him, carrying the case. Once in his room, Jerrin delved under the dobro for another hidden compartment, and brought out a big shoulder bag. Kurt frowned in confusion. “Don’t ask.”

The kid smiled. Jerrin took the bag into the bathroom and changed into some sleepwear. Thank the Lord he’d been given his own bathroom. The distress his presence would cause in either of the student facilities would be enormous. Comical, though. “What do you need to ask me?”

Kurt paced at the foot of the bed. “Do you… hate me?” He seemed on the verge of tears.

“No, Kurt. Far from it. I don’t blame you, I only blame them. It happened because of the drugs, and nothing else. You are not evil or deviant. In my opinion, you were raped just as much as I was, we are fellow victims, you and I. Please keep that in mind.” Slowly he reached out and took hold of Kurt’s shoulder. He drew him closer until their foreheads touched. “We’ll get through this, my friend, I promise. But now, I really need to sleep.”

Kurt smiled a little. “Thank you.” He gave Jerrin an impulsive, embarrassed buss on the cheek, before he hurried from the room.

[nghtcrwlr]

You got me hooked, my friend. Sorry I haven't been able to reply sooner. You have been posting new implements at an amazing rate (which is a good thing) and I just now got out of some tests I had to take care of so I could catch up. But I'm liking this ... keep up the good work!

[Nightmare]

Tete-A- Tete


He was younger, eleven or so, and Mom was giving him one of those little talks she liked so much. “Be careful if you ever get involved with someone single-gendered. Most of their societies discriminate against what we are on general principles.” Ancient heartbreak darkened her quicksilver eyes momentarily. “Not that it can’t work out,” she said, leaning her dark head against her mate’s golden mane, smiling as he kissed her neck.

“It takes a lot of determination to make a relationship with a Qard,” his dad said. “I was a human male until my thirties, and it wasn’t easy, to say the least. I felt like I was giving up everything it meant to be a man, or even a human being, to be with her.” He took her hand in his, and looked fully into his son’s eyes. “But I have never regretted it.”

Jerrin sat up. After a few false starts, Mom had found her happy ending, and by doing so, had saved her race. But would his own present story end well, or just be another sad anecdote to bore his kids with? He sighed. Well, that wasn’t up to him, was it? It was up to Kurt, and right now Jerrin could feel his friend’s pain from here.

He stretched and got dressed. The long sleep had done him good. The bites were healing, and his other aches and pains were much better. Now, if he could only get his unruly heart to settle down… He followed his empathy to the kitchen, and poured himself some coffee. “Good morning, Kurt.”

Yellow eyes glanced up at him from a troubled face. “Good morning, Jerrin.” Kurt kept digging into his cereal. That smelled good. He’d had too many skipped meals along with the lack of sleep. They ate in silence, broken only when the others came into the kitchen, and tiptoed around them as if they were land mines.

Scott and Jean retreated to the rec-room with their food and Jerrin looked at his companion. “If I said ‘boo’ to one of them, do you think they’d scream and run away, or just faint?”

“Heh.” Finally the kid lightened up a little.

“Any idea of where we can have our little chat?” Jerrin said. “I really don’t want an audience.”

“Outside, in the woods. I know some good spots for privacy.”


Jerrin sat at the base of a broad tree, just below Kurt, perched on a low branch.

“Please, show me your shoulders. I remember hurting you.”

Jerrin shrugged, and took off his shirt. Some of the bites were yellowed bruises, others were marked by shiny new skin, but the worst of them were represented by small scabs. All three kinds were thickly placed, overlapping at spots, and ran down his neck to his arms on both sides. Kurt landed beside him and traced his finger over the signs of his violence. “I didn’t know I tortured you. I’m so sorry.”

Jerrin shivered at the touch, his heart speeding up. “It wasn’t torture. It was a little excessive, maybe, but I didn’t mind.”

The thick finger brushed over a loose scab, and it flaked off, revealing oddly lavender skin beneath. Kurt drew his hand away, “You didn’t mind? I drew blood! I attacked you.”

Their eyes met. “These are passion bites, Kurt. Every one is the evidence of your pleasure. You weren’t exactly yourself, and your teeth are sharp. But you didn’t mean to harm me. If you had really wanted to hurt me, you could have just as easily have ripped my throat out.” Jerrin chuckled. “I remember some intense moments where I bit you back, actually.” He displayed his teeth. They weren’t as pointed as Kurt’s but still sharper than human normal.

Kurt rubbed his own shoulder. “I do remember some welts under my fur when I woke up.”

“There you go. If you look back, you’ll see things weren’t quite as one-sided as you might now believe. I responded to your advances, rough as they were. Once I accepted what was happening, I actually enjoyed it, for the most part.”

“Jerrin, that’s really sick, or just pathetic. I can’t decide which.”

“Probably a little of both. The only thing I truly regret is, that what happened between us, which I enjoyed, wasn’t something you were choosing. Even as it happened I knew that it was against your true nature, and that it would wind up troubling you.” He pulled up a handful of grass and started shredding the blades.

“You’re cute, you know. That was the first thoughts I had when I saw you. I was leaving Bayville before my attraction got the best of me and I hit on you. I liked you too much to want to put you through that. I know that there are lots of things about Qards that are a pain to deal with, and the gender thing is just the tip of the iceberg.” He brushed off his hands.

Kurt frowned, looking off into the trees. “Do you have romantic feelings for me, as you define them?”

“Yes.” The simple affirmative was so hard to say. So many other thoughts kept trying to come out, but he owed Kurt a straight answer.

“You can see us… being together?” Kurt’s eyes were wary, but curious.

“Kurt, I truly care for you, despite everything that happened. I think I may even… no, I won’t say it. You’re under enough pressure. As far as being together, it’s not impossible, it’s only difficult. My Dad was born human. He chose to leave all that behind him to become a Qard. That’s the only way that… offspring are possible. Qards and humans aren’t fertile together, but I won’t go into the genetics.”

“But do you want it to happen?” Was the kid trying to pass the buck back to him?

“It doesn’t really matter what I want, Kurt. My whole life runs on different rhythms than yours. I can’t even make a long-term stay as a friend without my having to deal with some serious bullshit in schedule juggling. If I stay here as anything more than that, then you will be caught up in the middle. Most of the compromising would have to be on you, and that’s not fair.” Tears threatened, but he fought them. “It can’t be up to me. It’s not my life that would be turned upside down. Yours is the only decision that matters. But… we’re both young. We can each try to find someone else.” His voice choked up on the last few words. He turned his head away, losing the fight against the tears.

“Jerrin…” Kurt stroked the dampness on Jerrin’s face, watching him shiver again. “You’re cold. Put your shirt back on.” Jerrin wasn’t so sure, but he put it on anyway. Kurt squeezed in close to him, wrapping an arm around Jerrin’s waist, and accepting an answering hold across his shoulders. “You’ve been expecting this all along, haven’t you?”

Jerrin could only nod in return.

[Nightmare]

Full Disclosure


Kurt comforted his crying friend, and wondered. From the beginning, Jerrin had tried to protect Kurt from himself, only to find that he couldn’t protect himself from Kurt. And for all the thoughtless violence of their couplings, he still harbored a crush for Kurt that he fully expected never to be requited.

He was trying hard to process all the things that Jerrin had told him. He was an alien, Kurt could deal with that. The hermaphrodite stuff was still surprising, although an incredible amount of the puzzle that was his friend had been filled by the knowledge. And now this… His dad was born a human? The man in that family photo had been a Qard, with the ears, the twelve fingers, and all the other characteristics. About the only thing that marked him as different from of the other three’s slight androgyny was the trimmed full beard, and a broader, more muscular build.

Just for fun, he wondered what would such a change do to him. Would he take on Qard characteristics, or be able to disguise himself as Jerrin did? Of course, being a Qard meant Changing. He had a humorous image of ‘Dad’ as a bearded woman… Then there was thing about schedules. From Jerrin’s reactions, it was a real barrier… if he was seriously considering the possibility of Jerrin’s… proposal, which he didn’t know if he was. “What did you mean about schedules?”

“Huh? Oh… we have longer lives. Like Tolkien Elves, kind of longer. When we’re young, the rule of thumb is to multiply our developmental age by three. In calendar years… I’m actually fifty one.” Kurt drew in a sharp breath, and Jerrin hurried to explain. “It’s not what you think. It takes three calendar years for me to mature as a human would in one year. So, imagine being four years old for three years straight. Or seven, or thirteen, or whatever.”

Kurt thought back. “You sounded so much more mature sometimes.”

“Physically, and emotionally, I’m a teen… just like you. Can’t you tell from the all the drama?” He gave a shaky laugh. “But that’s a lot of years to fill up. We’re encouraged to get some college degrees after secondary school.”

“’Some’ college degrees?” Did he really want to know? “How many?”

“Six. I have two Masters and four Bachelors, plus intensive studies in four other subjects, like music, and a dabbling in many others.”

“You could teach here if you wanted.”

“And if they’d let me. But this is what I mean by schedules; in twenty years, you’ll be pushing forty. I’ll be almost twenty-five. Twenty years after that, I will be in my early thirties… it’s not a pretty ratio. When Mom was growing up, for every year she spent living with humans, she spent two years… elsewhere, just to even out the differential. But she wasn’t in a relationship with anyone. The implications of that suck any way you figure it.”

“A long distance relationship, with time being the barrier, instead of distance,” Kurt said. “Or if the partner goes with the Qard, then the friends and family of the partner miss out on two-thirds of their lives.”

“You got it. It is the suck, period.” Jerrin looked down. “I didn’t say that to pressure you. Dad willingly gave up most of his human ties. He was a grown man, a widower with an only child. He could just pack up and go, and so he did. I can’t ask that of you. You’re young, with years to go and a life to lead before you’d have that kind of independence… and then there’s the responsibilities you have to the X-Men.”

“Hypothetically speaking, anyway.” Kurt had to agree, that really did suck.

“I’m pretty sure that’s all it can be, hypothetical.” The pain was back in Jerrin’s voice, but he had the tears under control.

“What did he gain? What kind of life was worth that high a price?”

“Longevity, first of all. Their marriage is centuries old. Jo and I are just the youngest of their children. I have full siblings who have great grand children. He also has a never failing love; they are tied together on every level… emotionally, spiritually, and mentally. When they leave this life at some distance point, it will be as they lived… together. To me, that is what love should be. Nothing less.”

“You have very high standards, but I guess you learned from example.”

“I have the time. I don’t have to settle for anything else.”

There was one more thing that Kurt needed to know. Was the attraction he remembered, the passion, was that only because of the drugs, or from something else? “Jerrin.” Silver eyes turned to him, and Kurt leaned forward before he lost his nerve. The kiss caught Jerrin by surprise, but he quickly warmed to it. Kurt pressed his tongue forward, and his friend opened his mouth in response.

Electric sparkles whipped along Kurt’s spine, from the warmth and the taste of the kiss. Jerrin moaned softly and that goaded his own responses higher. Kurt didn’t stop until he found himself clutching at Jerrin’s back, trying to pull him even closer. They leaned apart, and caught their breaths in the aftermath. “Mein Gott.” Kurt had to adjust his trousers.

“Oh, wow.” So did Jerrin, apparently.

“Um. So. There is chemistry between us.” He couldn’t stop blushing. Kissing Amanda had never been like that!

“That’s a damned thermonuclear explosion, but I was already pretty sure of that. It’s, uh, nice to see the magic still works.” He took Kurt’s chin, and gently turned it. “So, here it is, flat out. If you want me to go, I will. I’ll leave the planet, and I will never return… not in your lifetime. If you want me to stay, to be your friend… I can do that, I think. I may swap out a few years here and there, because I’ll still be… looking for a mate.”

His silver eyes then turned molten hot. “But if you want to make a go of it, I’ll find a way to make it work… to satisfy all your responsibilities and still be happy.” He let go, and gave him a quick buss on the mouth. “The choice, like I said, is yours.”

Kurt leaned back for a while. “I need to think carefully about this, and see what is right for me. It’s a lot to decide, and I haven’t even called Amanda yet. But please, stay in the meantime?”

Jerrin nodded, looking surprised that Kurt was even considering it.

Kurt spoke softly. “I don’t know if I will give you the answer you want. But please know, I wouldn’t want you to feel obliged to stay if it would break your heart. I would never want to cause you any more pain.”

[Nightmare]

This bunny has been attached to my heel for some time now. I've been mulling over this story for months, and finally I came to the conclusion that it wouldn't let go until I wrote it. The story was is such a state, that by the time I sat to write it, it took 1 week to write these 15 parts.

I haven't been real concerned about comments to this point, because I wrote it to get it out of my system, not for feedback... not that I'd mind feedback, mind you. But all of that changes now, because, unlike my usual efforts, where I have it plotted before I write, I don't know how to end this... so: I give you this, and I hope that those who have enjoyed this story please respond.

--
A Request For Comments from the Author…


And there, my fellow ‘Scrawlers, I must leave it, because that’s where the evil bunny goes silent, after making me tell a tail… err a tale of Kurt doing something horribly wrong, not being responsible for it, and yet he takes responsibility anyway. Jerrin is the designated victim, but he forgives him, hence the title, “Innocent of Evil”. I’ve ignored this story for so long, because it doesn’t have an ending. I, the writer, just can’t decide…

The Jerrin in my head sniffs and wipes his nose, and then brings up all the perfectly good reasons why it’s a bad idea. The Kurt in my head… well, I find that I can’t get far enough out of Jerrin’s POV to tell what he would do.

And so, I turn to you, dear readers; what do you think?

· Is Jerrin the son-of-a-Mary Sue that I fear he is, and I have merely wasted your time?
· Is it better that Jerrin should go, for both of their sakes?
· Or would Kurt want to see it through, despite everything?

You be the judge. Really. I need the help! I’m not going for a vote here, but for convincing arguments one way or another. (Limited time offer…)

If the first is true, I will apologize, and stop. If you think he should leave, I’ll write a few more to wrap it up neatly. But if this is to continue, you’ll find I’ve been developing this race for over twenty years, and even with the simplified version I’m presenting in this story, confusion and complications will abound. =)

[HoodedMan]

Originally posted by Nightmare
· Is Jerrin the son-of-a-Mary Sue that I fear he is, and I have merely wasted your time?
· Is it better that Jerrin should go, for both of their sakes?
· Or would Kurt want to see it through, despite everything?

Hm. I think Jerrin is a very original character, and I'd be interested in seeing him more fully developed. I think Kurt would want to see it through, despite everything, because that's the kind of person he is. He's a very romantic person, and I'd like to see him find true love, however it be.

My belated two cents.