Lauds Lost
Posted on Fri Apr 11th, 2025 @ 4:44pm by Kurt Wagner & Kennedy Kelly
12,768 words; about a 64 minute read
Mission:
Episode 6: X-Fernus Agenda
Location: Mansion
Timeline: December 14, 1990
The sky above the X-Mansion was a soft, pale blue, streaked with hints of gold as the early morning sun crept over the horizon. The cold, wintry air smelled of morning frost and distant woodsmoke, but Kurt barely noticed. He stood alone on the back patio, staring out at the sprawling acres of Xavier’s estate, hands wrapped together in a loose sacrament that had long since lost its fervor.
Usually, by now, he would have already finished his morning prayers. Usually, he would have already sought the quiet sanctuary of faith, grounding himself in the familiar cadence of whispered words. But not today.
Today, the words would not come.
He had tried. He had willed himself to begin, but each time he opened his mouth, the prayers stuck in his throat. The captivity, the cruelty, the sheer weight of what he had endured in Genosha had settled inside him like a stone in his chest. He had seen suffering before, had known hardship, but this… this had been different. This had been calculated, deliberate cruelty. And that knowledge gnawed at something deep within him, something that no verse or scripture seemed able to soothe.
How could he ask for grace when his heart was still burning with anger? How could he seek forgiveness when he wasn't sure he was ready to give it?
Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.
He had recited those words countless times in his life, had clung to them as a reminder of the mercy and love he aspired to. But standing here now, the morning air cold against his skin, he felt as though they had lost their meaning. The Genegineer and his minions had known precisely what they did. How could he pray for something that felt so untrue?
For the first time, Kurt could not find the light of hope to cling to. All that stirred within him was rage whose only solace was the fact that such evil men were burned away by cosmic fire. The only regret he could muster was that it had been instantaneous rather than prolonged as the suffering they had inflicted on others. And that disturbed him.
Kennedy stood inside and watched Kurt through the double glass doors that looked out on the patio and sleeping pool. They had established an unspoken routine where he would meet her for coffee in the kitchen in the early hours of the morning. Together, they perused the morning paper and casually chatted about the news or whatever was on their mind; it had quickly become her favorite time of the day. So when Kurt hadn’t arrived this morning, she couldn’t help but go looking for him.
The problem was he seemed bothered and lost in thought. His hung low and that animated tail of his was lifeless. Even the shadows that naturally clung to him seemed a little darker. His distress made Kennedy hesitate for fear that he might want to be left alone. After a long moment of watching him and of internal debate she finally decided to check in with him.
With a soft click of the door latch, Kennedy announced her arrival, her dancer’s feet silent as she made her way towards him.
“Kurt?” She said his name in a gentle inquisitive tone for fear of bothering him. He noticed that Kennedy had softened the hard ‘ur’ sound that most Americans used to say his name, instead she pronounced his name with German phonetics in an attempt to say his name the correct way. “Kurt, are you alright? You didn’t come for coffee.”
Kurt flinched, startled from his thoughts by Kennedy’s voice. His glowing eyes blinked rapidly before settling on her, and for the first time that morning, his tail gave an unconscious swish. It wasn’t its usual lively, expressive movement, but it was something.
A sheepish smile spread across his face, flashing a hint of sharp canines as he offered a quiet chuckle. "Ach, verzeih mir, Kennedy. I did not mean to tarry." He rubbed the back of his neck, his fingers grazing the soft fur there. "Time must hef gotten avay from me."
“No, it’s okay. It’s not like you’re required to meet me or anything… If you don’t want to, you don’t have to.” Kennedy regretted bothering him, he had obviously been deep in thought and she had followed him like some desperate, lost puppy.
His words were smooth, lighthearted on the surface, but they didn’t quite match the weight in his eyes—the sorrow, the conflict, the quiet war waging within him.
Kennedy frowned a little as she noticed the continued gloom in his disposition. They saw each other almost every day since he had arrived at Xavier’s and she definitely knew this wasn’t his normal behavior.
“What’s bothering you?” Her question was bold and direct. Kennedy mentally winced at herself. There was something about Kurt that always made her nervous and insecure about her choices, like there was this unspoken pressure to impress him.
It was so hard to put into words that Kurt took a deep breath and left it at a sigh. Kennedy was a dear for asking. Nobody else would be. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt…
“I mean, if you want to talk about it, you can talk to me.” She backtracked and tried to soften her approach. Kennedy was eager to assume how comfortable he was with her, when in reality he may not think or feel the same as she did. “Heaven knows you’ve had to hear about my turmoil. If you want to talk, I’ll listen, it’s the least I can do.”
Kurt hesitated, his golden eyes searching Kennedy’s face as if gauging whether he truly wanted to unburden himself. He wasn’t accustomed to voicing doubts—especially not these kinds of doubts. But the weight in his chest had not lessened, no matter how long he sat in contemplation. And she was right. He had listened to her struggles before, never once judging, only offering patience and understanding. Perhaps it was time he accepted the same.
His tail curled around his ankle as he exhaled, his voice barely above a whisper. "I could not bring myself to pray zhis morning." Kurt opened his mouth, then closed it again, struggling to form the words. He rubbed at his arms as though suddenly cold. "Because," he admitted finally, voice thick with shame, "I am glad Genosha is gone."
The emotion of his confession did not necessarily match the gravity of the situation. It wasn’t like he had admitted to a crime. At least, not a criminal offense against the state. His tail flicked once, the movement restless, anxious. "I know vhat happened zhere. Ze horrors… zhey vere an abomination. And yet, my faith tells me I should not rejoice in ze fall of evil men, rasther zhat I should mourn even for ze vicked, zhat I should pray for zheir redemption." He shook his head, his expression one of quiet anguish. "But I cannot. I do not feel sorrow for zhem. I do not feel loss. Only… relief. And zhat, lieber freundin, is vhat I cannot reconcile."
“You feel guilty,” Kennedy replied as she looked out at the rising sun with him. She was dressed in one of her dancing leotards with its deep scooped neckline and her hair pulled up into a neat bun. Her attire accentuated the slender lines of her neck and the now green-yellow bruises from a pair of hands that had wrapped around her throat while she was unconscious. She had been assigned to ‘entertainment’ on Genosha, based on what they had seen of the island, her fate would have been one of violation and exploitation. “I don’t think you should be so hard on yourself for being glad that Genosha is gone. Between it and Limbo’s portal being opened it was literally hell on earth. I’m glad it’s gone too.”
Kennedy shivered from the cold and she wrapped her arms around herself while she contemplated what he was saying and how he was feeling. “Guilt is a universal feeling, no one is immune to it. But how you’re feeling… glad because they are gone. I think it’s because of what you experienced and what you saw. It’s okay to spend some time with those feelings, like your pain and your grief. You have to face those first before you can think about the bigger picture. You can’t forgive others until you heal yourself.”
On reflex, Kurt reached out to Kennedy and began rubbing his hands up and down her arms to generate heat.
“You are so cold,” he said apologetically, having left her to linger in the elements with him while he rambled on about matters of conscience. “But perhaps you are right as well. Eet is no bad zhing for ze evils of Genosha to be ended. But visth such great darkness... perhaps my eyes are not ready to let me ze end of night just yet. Perhaps I must linger in mourning for ze lives zhat vere lost for avhile longer, und zhen I could meet ze morning light visth gladness instead of despair.”
Such dark feelings he was sharing. Kurt didn't realize just how abrupt he had been with his hands. “Oh, I am sorry, Kennedy. I did not mean to be so rough.”
“You’re fine, Kurt, you’ve never been rough with me.” Despite the gravity of their conversation Kennedy couldn’t help smiling from his remark. She found his careful consideration endearing, Kurt was gentle and kind. “Maybe zealous? But that’s nothing to apologize for.”
She looked down at his hands on her arms and Kennedy struggled with her own instincts and desire to reach out and hold him. Beyond the idea of how inviting his embrace would be, Kennedy wanted to comfort him as he divulged his struggles to her. Bu in the end, her better judgment took over and she refrained from reaching out for him.
“I struggled with a lot of guilt when my father died. He had been so heartless when he discovered I was a mutant, combined with his campaign and career vilifying us… it was hard not to feel some degree of relief that his hate had ended. But how could I be glad that my father was dead? That is a terrible thing to say and to admit. I had to face all the ugly things I felt from what had happened to me, and how it hurt and changed me. Once those wounds healed, it was easier for me to examine him as a man.”
Kennedy paused for a moment as she thought about Kurt’s faith and the extra degree of guilt it created for him. “God knows man is flawed and faces these struggles, he grants grace and compassion to all. You feel bad that you need a moment of reflection but if anyone else told you this, you would be patient and forgiving of their struggles. You should provide yourself with that same grace... You deserve that too.”
Those glowing golden eyes narrowed with tears that filled them. Kurt knew the truth when he heard it, and he was hearing it now. “God has indeed gifted me visth mercy... and her name ees Kennedy.”
Smiling despite the tears that were welling up, Kurt felt the sun begin to rise in his own heart despite the gloom that had settled there. “Zhey locked me in a room, studied me as a caged animal, compelled me to teleport against zheir barriers again and again. But zhis is not vhy I struggle.”
Kurt shook his head and took a steadying breath. “I can forgive hatred as I hef done my whole life. Vhat I struggle to forgive ees ze inhumane cruelty, ze lack of love and even lack of hate. Zhose demon creatures from Limbo vere not ze true devils on zhat island. It vas vhatever possessed Moreau and his cohorts to murder visthout remorse... or any feelings vhatsoever!”
After a few sniffles, Kurt began to compose himself. “But vhat happened could not hef happened any osther vay. I can accept zhis.” Biting his lip, Kurt pondered another angle. “Perhaps... I cannot grieve ze deaths just yet because I must first recognize zhat it vas a mercy to zhem. No longer can zheir evil spread to osthers or continue to consume zhem from vithin. If I recognize zhat, zhen perhaps I can find forgiveness in my heart again and mourn ze loss of life, even life so vicked.”
“I’m sorry they were cruel to you,” Despite his efforts to swallow his pain, a single tear ran down Kurt’s cheek. Kennedy forgot herself at that moment, her heart hurting for him, and she reached out to brush the tear away with her thumb. “I’m sorry for any of the abuse that you suffered. You are one of the kindest people I have ever met. The fact that you still show so much compassion, that you still strive to love those who have wronged you… I think that speaks volumes about the type of person that you are.”
It took all of her willpower to pull her hand away from him but she knew she had already taken too many liberties with Kurt. “You chastise yourself for a lack of sympathy but the fact that you want to find it is what matters. I think that’s beautiful.”
At that, Kurt looked at her, really looked, his glowing eyes shimmering with unspoken emotion. His breath hitched as he tried to form words, but all that escaped was a soft, choked sound in half a laugh, half a sob.
"Du denkst... ich bin schön?" Kurt froze for a moment as her words sunk in for full effect.
The words carried no vanity, only disbelief, raw and unguarded. He had been called many things in his life—monster, freak, demon—but never beautiful. Not in a way that had nothing to do with his faith or his soul, but rather the simple fact that he was trying.
Kennedy barely had time to register the depth of his reaction before Kurt grabbed her, his arms wrapping around her in a desperate, unthinking embrace. He held on as though she were the only thing keeping him from unraveling completely, his entire frame trembling with the force of emotions he could no longer contain.
The sobs came then, muffled against her shoulder, shaking his chest, his body, his soul.
"Danke… danke, Kennedy." His voice was thick with tears, his accent heavier than usual. "I needed to hear zhat. I... I needed to know zhat struggling does not mean I hef failed. Zhat my doubt does not make me unvorthy."
She felt the tight grip of his fingers in the fabric of her leotard, the damp warmth of his tears against her skin. He had spent days, weeks, years trying to hold himself to an impossible standard, to carry a burden too great for any man—any mutant—to bear alone. And now, for the first time since Genosha, he let himself break.
Kennedy wrapped her arms around him as he crumbled and clung to her. She knew what it felt like to break like this, to question who you are and what you were worth. The adversity they faced made it easy to doubt yourself and humanity, you had to be strong in order to see past it and fight through it. She also knew that love, acceptance, and support were a lifeline that made all the difference.
“Life is hard and sometimes people are terrible,” Kennedy held him close as he sobbed, she felt the weight in his heart and how it crushed him “A lot of people succumbed to the ugly and cruel choices because they are easier or simpler to achieve. It takes strength and resolve to make better choices.”
“Ja,” Kurt agreed through his sniffles.
“It’s okay to feel the pressure of those hard choices, it’s okay that it takes time to come to terms with your burdens. You can lean on others, you can lean on me, when it gets to be too much.” Her hand moved up his back to cradle his head and to hold him against her shoulder. “It’s okay to ask for help when things are hard because you keep pushing forward and trying… that’s what matters.”
Kurt took a shuddering breath, nodding against Kennedy’s shoulder. "Ja," he whispered again, his voice steadier this time. "Ze harvest is reaped by zhose who do not faint."
He exhaled slowly, the weight in his chest still present but no longer crushing. He had carried it alone for too long, and now, with Kennedy’s warmth grounding him, he finally allowed himself to share the burden.
After a moment, he gathered himself, pulling back just enough to meet her gaze. His golden eyes, still glassy with tears, now held a flicker of a new hope, however fragile. He offered her a small, grateful smile.
"Zhank you, Kennedy," he said earnestly. "For your kindness… for understanding." His tail flicked behind him, as he straightened his posture. Then, with a sheepish chuckle, he wiped the last of the moisture from his face. “You are a good friend.”
“Of course…” She looked like she was about to say something but then stopped herself. A flicker of emotion manifested in the slightest downturn of the corners of her mouth. “It’s what friends are for.”
Kennedy looked down at their tight embrace. Without his tears their hold on one another took on a different meaning for her. He was like warm velvet in her arms and she wanted to luxuriate in his touch. She was embarrassed and chastised herself for that though as Kurt watched her blush and frazzle.
She let go of him as she felt stupid for daring to think such things. Kurt trained her in acrobatics, they served as X-Men together, he was kind to her and was her friend — like he was with everyone at the school. Kennedy hated herself for reading more into this moment than he needed her support. He loved Wanda and wanted her back, Kennedy respected that wish.
There was a long silent pause and Kennedy thought she might be sick. Thankfully Kurt broke the silence with a return to the easy conversation he was so good at providing.
"Ah… do you zhink zhere is still coffee?" He tilted his head in bashfulness. "I believe I could use some."
“Oh… umm… yes.” Kennedy collected her thoughts, suddenly grateful for the idea of doing something else. She tried to forget that uncomfortable moment as she forced herself to transition back into amiable conversation. “You know what? How about we go out for breakfast? The diner starts serving at 5:30, we could go get pancakes… or eggs… whatever you want.”
Going to an eating establishment for a meal, even a breakfast diner, was still a novelty for Kurt. It was just something that other people did but he had not really done himself. Kennedy had taken him before but the new, scary, fun thrill had not worn off.
“Ja, zhis is good.” The gloom finally melted away from his fanged smile, leaving it genuine and carefree.
He looked down at the V-neck ¾ sleeve sweater he wore and pressed his hands against his abdomen.
“Perhaps a coat?” Kurt wondered aloud, his self-consciousness beginning to show through. “Visth a hood, ja?”
“Why a hood?” She asked even though she knew the answer to her question. Before Kurt could respond she reminded him of her firm stance on the topic. “If you want to wear a hood because it makes you comfortable that’s one thing but don’t wear one for anyone else’s sake.”
Kennedy still passed for human, most would even consider her beautiful but she embraced her ‘other’ and being a mutant. It had been hard at first but it had been her first step in healing. She would never feel shame over what she was and she didn’t want anyone else to either.
“I’m not exactly ready to leave.” She was dressed in her dancing clothes, the dark purple leotard and its gossamer skirt were far from appropriate attire, especially for a December morning. “Change if you want to and meet me in the garage in fifteen minutes, okay?”
Kurt nodded before bamfing away.
When he reappeared in the faculty room Herr Professor had assigned him, Kurt considered the fact that he lacked a significant wardrobe. It was more than four times the apparel that he had owned at the monastery, yet more than half of his armoire was empty. There was a trench coat and matching canvas bucket hat which seemed appealing.
Kurt slid both over his body, even securing the bucket hat with a satisfying snap of the chin strap. Looking in the mirror, Kurt felt like a figure out of one of the classic movies Kennedy had shown him. He grinned at the sight. There were likely more trendy outfits to be had, but this one covered his unsightly features with an air of mystery.
Sliding hid pigeon-feet into a pair of wide-toed muck boots, his ensemble was complete. Kurt bamfed to the garage and waited for Kennedy to join him.
Kennedy’s transformation had been just short of a magic act because when she arrived in the garage she looked like a totally different person. Dressed in knee high leather boots and a black miniskirt, her crispy white blouse and the string of pearls accentuated with Chanel’s CC logo had Kennedy ready for the runway rather than breakfast at the local greasy spoon.
“All set?” She looked effortlessly chic and refined as she walked towards Kurt, the click of her heels echoing in the garage with each step. Kennedy couldn’t help but smile at his incognito attire; he looked like a spy ready to meet his contact for information.
Kurt had been standing idly, adjusting the brim of his bucket hat and testing the flex of his trench coat when he caught sight of Kennedy striding toward him.
For just a moment, he froze.
Kurt was not one to stare or let his gaze linger too long. “Gott im Himmel…”
But the way Kennedy cut such an elegant figure, it was impossible not to take notice. The confidence in her stride, the effortless poise was like watching someone step out of an old Hollywood film. Her crisp white blouse and string of pearls gave her an air of classic refinement, while the leather boots and miniskirt balanced it with a striking modern edge.
His lips parted slightly in surprise before he quickly composed himself, a warm smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. "Kennedy, you look... delightful," he said sincerely, his accent wrapping around the word with quiet admiration.
“Thank you, Kurt,” she said with a smile that could only be described as enchanting. “Sometimes it’s nice to put yourself together a little, even if it’s just for pancakes.”
Not wanting to be caught gawking, Kurt swiftly moved to the driver's side door, opening it with a small bow and a playful grin. "After you."
Kennedy nodded her head in thanks as she slid into the driver’s seat. She had been raised in a world of chivalry and manners, she didn’t realize how much she had missed it.
As soon as she was inside, he vanished in a wisp of sulfurous smoke, reappearing in the passenger seat with a soft bamf and a contented sigh.
"Now zhen," he mused, adjusting his hat once more. "Shall ve avay?"
“Absolutely.” Kennedy said with a chuckle at his over the top entry into the vehicle. Then again, if she could teleport she would probably do it all the time too.
Kennedy started the car and Belinda Carlisle began to sing. The blonde couldn’t help but join in with the song, it appeared to be a familiar favorite for her.
When you walk into the room
You pull me close, and we start to move
And we're spinnin' with the stars above
And you lift me up in a wave of love
Ooh, baby, do you know what that's worth?
Ooh, Heaven is a place on Earth
They say in Heaven, love comes first
We'll make Heaven a place on Earth
Ooh, Heaven is a place on Earth
She laughed a little before turning down the volume of the slightly too loud radio. “Sorry, I love that song, it always makes me happy.”
He hadn’t really seen her happy or playful, as Kurt had met Kennedy when she was at a rather low point in her life. But she was slowly returning back to the person she once was. He caught it in brief glimpses and fleeting moments, a sparkle in her deep blue eyes, a wider grin that showed off her stunning smile.
“I can see vhy,” Kurt said, unable to refrain from returning her smile. “Ze vords are wunderbar, and ze melody ze same.”
That was to say nothing of the heavenly sound of her voice, particularly the joy it contained. Seeing her so happy and free was like a halo of light shining down on her. Nothing could keep the grin off his own face.
“Until ze Maeurfall last year vhen ze Antifaschistischer Schutzwall fell in Berlin, ze radio played nosthingk but Soviet propaganda.” Not even memories of the Iron Curtain could dim Kurt's spirits, not when Kennedy was beaming at him like that. “So zhis is a good change. I vould like to hear any osther favorite songs of yours.”
“I’ll make you a mixtape,” Kennedy suggested but with a side glance while driving she realized Kurt didn’t know what that was. “It’s a tape recording of a mixture of different songs that you make yourself, that way you can pick and choose what you want on it. Teenagers make them.” She decided to omit that they were frequently given to someone you were dating, that part felt inappropriate.
“Zhis is nice of you,” Kurt said, then whispered to himself, “Mixtape...”
Kennedy hadn’t really considered that Kurt had lived in East Germany in addition to living in a monastery. It all sounded incredibly oppressive. “What was your childhood like? It must have been hard growing up with only monks for companionship, they don’t seem like they would be exceptionally playful.”
Kurt let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. "Understatement of ze year," he mused, his tail curling slightly in amusement. "Ze monks vere kind, but playful? Not exactly. Discipline, prayer, und hard vork vere zheir vays. And for a time, zhose vere mine as vell."
His golden eyes flickered with memory, a wistful smile crossing his face. "But zhen ze circus passed sthrough Winzeldorf… und I never looked back." He spread his arms as if reliving the grand spectacle. "It vas a vorld of difference, und just as much hard vork, if not more, but it felt like play every single day. Tumbling, flying, performing for cheering crowds…” His smile ticked the corners of his mouth even higher, making his glowing eyes narrow. “Eet vas like stepping into a dream vhere I could finally be me.”
“A natural showman.” Kennedy chuckled and she understood why. Kurt was charming and outgoing, it was easy to imagine him in the limelight and loving every moment of it. “I wish I could have seen it, I’m sure it was a wonderful show. You and Wanda flying through the air while the crowd oohed and aahed from below. The way you talk about it, I can tell how much it meant to you. It’s too bad you can’t find another circus that made you feel the same.”
Kurt chuckled, shaking his head with a glint of amusement in his golden eyes. "Ah, but zhat vas a boyhood fancy," he said, waving a dismissive hand. "Ze circus vas a dream come true at ze time, und it brought me much joy… und, of course, it brought me to Vanda." His expression softened at the mention of her, his voice dipping into something quieter, more reflective.
"But I hef to confess, Kennedy," he continued, clasping his hands together as his tail flicked lazily behind him. "As much as I loved it, as much as ze crowds' cheers filled my heart, I do not zhink I could go back. Not anymore." He turned his gaze toward the horizon, his thoughts stretching beyond the moment, beyond the past that once defined him.
"I hef seen too much," he admitted, his voice carrying a quiet weight. "Ze monastery vas discipline, ze circus vas joy… but neither could satisfy vhat my soul truly longed for." He sighed, finally letting go of the confession he had not yet admitted to himself. “Adventure!”
Once he said it, Kurt looked and felt more free than he had even a moment ago. "Zhis quest to find ze missing key to Vanda's disappearance… to find Vanda and learn vhat befell her… it has shown me so much more zhan I ever imagined. Ze vorld is vast, unknowable, full of mysteries und dangers und wonders. I do not zhink I could ever be content visth a life confined to only place again."
He turned back to Kennedy with a small, knowing smile. "Little by little, I am coming to realize zhat my calling is outside of both ze monastery und ze circus, perhaps even Herr Professor’s school. Zhey vere only stepping stones—chapters in a story still unfolding." He tilted his head slightly, studying her. "Perhaps ve are all searching for vhat comes next, ja?"
“I completely understand.” Kennedy agreed with him as she checked her blind spot before merging. “I thought I knew who I was and how my life was going to unfold. Paris then college, followed by law school and courtship. I would get my Esq. and my Mrs. in one swoop, find a partner with potential who was worthy of the name and the money he would marry into. Practice law and have babies while my husband becomes the next in line for a political career.”
She shook her head in disbelief at that future that now felt like a distant memory. “It’s hard for me to believe that was what I was meant for, I don’t want any of that… not anymore. But I couldn’t tell you what I actually want for myself. I like being an X-Men, I like being the change I want to see happen. That’s about as far as I’ve gotten though… so not much.”
Kurt’s face brightened, his golden eyes shining with genuine enthusiasm. “Ah, but zhat is ze beauty of it, ja?” He gestured animatedly, his hands moving with the flair of a performer recounting a grand tale. “Ze X-Men are unlike anything I have ever dreamed. I vould be a fool to vish for anything else… at least, until ze next step is revealed.”
His tail flicked slightly, a contented movement rather than the restless swish it often carried when he was deep in thought. “Herr Professor has given us zhis chance—to learn, to grow, to become more zhan ve ever imagined. His kindness is… how do you say… ze sort reserved for ze heroes of old? Ze knights und kings of legend, ja?” His voice took on a reverent tone, a rare glimpse into the deep well of admiration he held for Charles Xavier.
“He risked a lot by taking me in, with who my father was… he put me before himself. When I had nowhere else to go he offered me sanctuary.” Kennedy expressed her own fondness for Xavier.
“In zhis vorld, men like him should not exist. Und yet, here he is, und here are we.” He smiled at Kennedy, warm and sincere. “Perhaps ve do not yet know vhat comes next, but ve are here now, ja? Und for zhat, I am grateful.”
He paused for a moment, studying her thoughtfully. “Und you, Kennedy? You say you do not know vhat you vant, but vhere do you see ze path before you leading?”
“I have asked myself that question many times as of late. The best answer I have is that I want to be happy… not just satisfied or content but truly happy. I stopped doing a lot of the things that brought me joy because they didn’t fit with my plans and I didn’t realize how much that was hurting me.” Kennedy paused for a moment and Kurt could tell that she was contemplating how much more she should say. Eventually she worked up the nerve to continue. “And I want to fall in love. I want to be needed and missed, desired and cherished. I have felt so alone since I lost my family and I want to find my person.”
No stranger to heartache himself, Kurt could only give a solemn nod. Wanda had been his “person,” and he had been a fool to let her go. Loneliness was a terrible thing, but love was even greater still. He gave Kennedy a reassuring smile as she continued.
Kennedy thought about Jace and how hard she had fallen for him and then how much it hurt. “I already failed at my first attempt at that. So who knows where that path leads? At least I like cats, I can use that as my backup.”
At first Kurt did not catch her meaning, but it soon dawned on him. “Nein, I do not zhink your fate is to be, how you say, an old spinster.” As the car came to a stop, Kurt took sight of the diner and then grasped Kennedy by the hand, preparing for a teleport. “In my experience, love is somezhingk you get by giving. Ve do not fall into love so much as ve find it returned to sender. If you put love out into ze vorld… zhen someone cannot help but give it back to you.”
Kurt paused for a moment, his glowing yellow eyes boring into Kennedy in hopes that she understood what he was trying to say. Despair was such a terrible thing, and loneliness was a fertile ground for it to take root. His hope was that she would be spared such anguish.
“Zhat is how I met Vanda, you know.”
With those words, they both vanished in a sudden bamf and appeared in front of the diner entrance. Kurt closed his eyes to better enjoy the wafting aromas of greasy, fried breakfast specials. “Mmm… ja, zhat smells divine!”
“Yeah, I normally skip breakfast but it sounded good today.” Kennedy was still processing his comments from a moment ago and she was so happy that she had restrained herself early that morning. Her instincts had been right, she was a friend to Kurt and nothing more. She casually contemplated if she wanted a siamese or a calico as they approached the diner.
The diner was rather slow but then again it was early on a weekday morning, making it a stop for only the most dedicated of patrons. As Kennedy opened the door, a bell jingled and announced their arrival. A few older men at the barstools turned around to look at them while a man in a suit lowered his newspaper to look them over.
There was a brief pause in activity as the people in the diner took them in and it was unknown which of them caught their attention. Kennedy who was epitome of high fashion and elegance or Kurt who was dressed like a dime store Humphrey Bogart with his tail swishing behind him. Both were an unusual sight at the diner, coming in together made it all the more strange.
“Hey hon, table for two?” the waitress dressed in a pale pink uniform finally asked, she seemed the most comfortable with talking to the pair.
“Yes, please,” Kennedy replied with that air of haughty confidence that seemed to be ingrained in her DNA, when all eyes were on her she turned on that part of herself that reminded all that she demanded their attention.
Kurt, on the other hand, stuffed his hands in his pockets and did his best to look invisible. Stares tended to drift away if he didn't give people anything to stare at.
“Right here, hon.” The waitress offered them a booth towards the back. A little girl sat alone at the booth behind them, she quietly colored with a mug of hot chocolate next to her and a backpack on the seat by her side.
“Thank you,” Kennedy replied as they both slid into their respective sides of the booth. The eyes of the other patrons returned to their meals, already bored with gazing at them.
They were handed menus while the waitress offered them coffee before they were left to select their meals.
“I don’t even need to look,” Kennedy said while still examining her menu. “Pancakes were my choice at the mansion and that is all I can think about.” She poured creamer into her coffee and took a sip and Kurt watched the rabbit-like scrunch of her nose that appeared whenever she didn’t like something. “It’s not great.”
“Vas ist das?” Kurt gasped after taking a sip. “Eet cannot be coffee. Zhat... zhat is terrible!” He spewed it out into his napkin. “Vhy are zhere... chunks in it?”
Kurt flicked his tongue out and suppressed a gag reflex. “Perhaps some tea... und visth honey if zhey haf it!” That thought was already cheering him up. “Und ze eggs. How is it called vhen zhey are cooked on ze muffin?”
“Eggs on a muffin…” It took Kennedy a moment to figure out what he was asking for, her mind immediately went to sweet muffins. “Oh you mean an English muffin, the round flat one.”
She laughed a little, this was a common activity the two participated in while reading the paper together. Kurt would find words or phrases he didn’t understand or he would try to explain himself with the English vocabulary he did have. So far ‘now you have salad’ for describing a messy situation has been her favorite.
“Eggs Benedict is what you’re talking about,” Kennedy said with a smile, she found his accent and his searching for the correct words to be rather winsome. “Which is a much better choice than gruel… I mean… polenta for breakfast.”
Kurt threw her a mock scowl that may have been the first insincere gesture he had ever given her. “Zhere ist nosthingk wrong visth polenta for breakfast.” His scowl quickly split into a giddy grin. “Except for vhen I cook it!”
Chuckling at his own expense, he ran his finger down the menu until he found the Eggs Benedict option. “Served visth two flapjacks, hash browns, und buttered toast.” His indigo brow furrowed over his glowing eyes. “So much food! Are ve celebrating a feast or breaking our fast? I vill haf enough energy to rejoin ze circus.”
“That is a lot to eat, you might need a nap afterwards.” Kennedy laughed at his response to her comment on his terrible cooking. Not that she was one to judge, the best she could manage was boiling water and making toast. “I will stick to my plate of sugary bread and butter for breakfast, thank you very much.”
The waitress returned and took their orders, including Kurt’s request for tea rather than the abysmal coffee that had been provided.
Kennedy leaned back in her seat and across the table at Kurt. He had the collar of his trench coat pulled up and slouched until the top of his hat was almost touching his collar. He looked like a turtle hiding in its shell with only the soft glow of his golden eyes visible.
“I can hardly see you,” she chuckled a little at how he sat. “You don’t have to wear that hat if you don’t want to.” Kennedy gestured at the old men sitting at the counter. “They don’t care and neither does the waitress… I don’t either.”
Kurt hesitated for a moment, Kennedy’s words settling into the quiet space between them. His fingers hovered at the brim of his hat before he sighed through his nose and pulled it off, tossing it onto the booth seat beside him with a casual flick of his wrist. “Ja, du hast recht,” he admitted with a small smile. “It is rude to wear a hat indoors.”
He straightened slightly and rolled his shoulders to shrug off an invisible weight. The warm glow of the diner’s lights cast subtle highlights against the deep indigo of his velvety skin, his facial features now fully visible.
“I am at home in ze shadows,” he continued, resting his forearms on the table. “Vhatever allows me to traverse great distances also allows me to disappear from view. I can darken natural shadows, bend ze edges of light, and become unseen in plain sight.” He tilted his head slightly, his eyes gleaming with quiet amusement and contemplation. “I am not accustomed to being… looked at. Not unless I am on a stage, under ze spotlight. Osthervise?” He held up his hands and shrugged, his smile slanted. “I... do not alvays know vhat to do.”
“Some performers talk about feeling like a different person when they walk on stage. Something switches in their head and they suddenly snap into a different mindset. I kind of disappear when I dance, my thoughts turn off and I just act on instinct alone… then again I’ve never really performed in front of a crowd. I don’t think ballet recitals as a six years old count.”
Although Kurt had seen her dance and would beg to differ, that any performance she gave would count as a show of a lifetime, the cat had his tongue. He kept silent as the waitress dropped their tea off and ran to the next table.
Kennedy squeezed some honey into her now steeped tea before she gently stirred it with a spoon. He noticed she kept her pinkie finger up the whole time. “I like looking at you…” she shook her head at that comment, it was inappropriate. “I just mean your face is so telling and your eyes give you away. You say a lot without talking and to lose that is unfair.” She took a sip of her tea and no outrageous face followed. “As for what you should do… just be yourself. I think you underestimate how amazing that is.”
She mentally cursed herself for being so honest with him but it was hard to not be. Kurt had seen her in a rather low place on more than one occasion and he hadn’t shied away from her reactions, it made her comfortable with him. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t push you so much, I understand that life has been hard and even dangerous for you. It’s presumptuous of me to tell you to ignore that fear because it’s saved your life.”
Kurt shook his head, his expression softening. "Nein, Kennedy, you are not being presumptuous," he assured her, his voice low and gentle. "You are being... kind." His lips curved into a small, thoughtful smile. "Und perhaps kindness is exactly vhat an old hermit like me needs."
He reached for his own tea, his movements slow and deliberate as he let her words settle over him. "My instinct to hide… it is not vhat I chose. It vas survival, ja? A lifetime of knowing ze vorld vill not alvays look at me as you do." He exhaled, watching the steam curl from the cup in his hands. "But I see now zhat hiding is not alvays ze answer. Not vhen I haf people to show me better instincts."
His golden gaze lifted to meet hers, warm with something unspoken. America had no princesses, but Kennedy was surely the closest equivalent. Her noble family held standing to match that of any European royalty. She was just being polite and so he would do the same. "You are right. Solitude has been my refuge—old churches, ruins, places vhere history lingers in ze stones. I find solace in places zhat do not change." He paused, considering his next words carefully. "But perhaps zhere are better refuges than edifices of ze past. Perhaps I am here to learn zhat tomorrow can be brighter zhan yesterday."
Kurt’s tail flicked slightly, betraying the quiet delight her words had sparked in him. To be looked at—not with fear, not with disgust, but with genuine appreciation—it was something he had always yearned for, but never dared to expect. That she, of all people, had said it so openly… he decided to take that in stride.
He studied her for a moment, his sharp features softened by gratitude. "I vill remember vhat you said, meine Freundin," he promised. "Und I zhank you for your honesty, for your encouragement... und for seeing ze real me as you do."
“It wasn’t hard to do,” Kennedy said with a shrug while taking another sip of her tea. “You just showed me who you are, I’m sure if you did that with anyone in this diner they would feel the same as me. You have a kind heart, Kurt.”
Kurt's smile was small but sincere, his golden eyes warm. His tail flicked again, this time slower, more thoughtful. Instead of deflecting with humor or humility, he let himself accept her kindness for what it was—a gift freely given. For once, he wasn’t in any rush to disappear into the shadows.
Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of breakfast. Kennedy’s stack of pancakes that were adorned with strawberries and whipped cream along with Kurt’s meal that was so large it required two plates to present to him.
“That’s even more food than I was expecting,” Kennedy laughed at his excessive meal and how it took up half the table. “I hope you’re hungry.”
Kurt let out a sheepish chuckle, eyeing the sheer amount of food in front of him. "Ja, I must admit, zhis is more zhan I vas expecting as vell," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I vould feel terrible if any of it vent to vaste… but I vill give it mein best effort!"
His tail gave a little flick of determination before he glanced at Kennedy’s plate, then back to his own. "Bitte, help yourself, meine Freundin. I insist," he said, tilting his head slightly. "I may hef ze appetite of a small army, but even I cannot hope to conquer zhis feast alone."
“You can always get a doggy bag if you can’t finish it.” Kennedy brought her lone plate of pancakes closer to herself, it was the opposite of being interested in his food. “I’m sure there is a human garbage disposal of a teenage boy who will eat anything you don’t finish.”
She noticed he seemed confused by something so Kennedy mentally reviewed what she had just said. “A doggy bag is when you take leftovers from the meal home, I guess presumably to feed to your dog.”
The man in the suit took his check up to that cash register but left the paper he had been reading in his booth. Once he had left, Kennedy got up and took the paper before it was thrown away.
“Look at that.” Kennedy showed Kurt the cover, it was a picture of the now barren landscape of Genosha. “Front page and everything.”
“Herr Professor said zhat vas not ze first encounter ze X-Men hef had visth zhat horrible place.” Kurt was reluctant to even speak its name. “Limbo, on ze edge indeed. And to zhink how Aurora allied visth zhem.”
Kurt shook his head in solemn confusion. “You knew her longer than I. How could she hef done such a zhing?”
“She barely spoke to me,” Kennedy said with a shrug while she cut up her pancakes. “When I first arrived, she wanted me to know that she was married and pregnant. Which was weird and also tripped me out because the idea of a child now… no way. Then Scott found Jean and their relationship ended and she just kind of disappeared from the social scene. I dunno, maybe she was embarrassed or really sad. I want to say that I should have asked more questions but I have admittedly been lost in my own issues. That’s my roundabout way of saying I don’t really know, other than I guess you shouldn’t underestimate a spurned woman.”
For as noble as Scott seemed, there was no denying he had made some big mistakes. Kurt gave a shrugging acceptance to Kennedy's summary before taking another bite of his English muffin.
She poured syrup over her pancakes and took the first bite, they were far better than the coffee. “I do know that I wouldn’t want to be with someone who was in love with someone else.”
“Ja, und me as vell,” Kurt said around a mouthful of food. He blushed at his uncouth behavior and excused himself through the napkin he used to dab his lips. With his mouth clear, he went on to say, “Ze heart is such a precious zhing. Ve should not give it avay idly to someone who cannot give us zheirs in return. Such a terrible fate, ja?” Looking down at the newspaper, Kurt concluded, “Just like Aurora. An entire nation suffered for her choices...”
Staring at the newspaper headline, Kurt lost himself in thinking about the events of Genosha. He’d spent much of the time in captivity, but when he had been freed, there had been a battle he would never forget. Kennedy for one thing had been in rare form using everything he had taught her.
“You did very well, I must say,” Kurt said, trying to bring it back around to a positive frame. “I feel proud to be your teacher.”
“Oh… thanks,” Kennedy replied sheepishly while stabbing a bite of her meal. Part of her behavior on missions was instinct driven, it was like a switch flipped in her head and she saw things differently while her body just knew what to do and when to do it. Then there was the part of her that liked working with Kurt. She had originally started training with him in hopes of finding new ways to move across an area and to land better shots but she had found a lot of peace and comfort with him.
Their training together was an exercise in trust and dependability, concepts that were sorely missing from Kennedy’s life. But it also explained why she was so fond of him and part of the reason why she gave everything she had into their training. Kurt found her when she was lost and he had restored a part of her that had been damaged. All of that sounded so incredibly personal and intimate, especially when examining the dynamic of a teacher and student. So Kennedy opted for the easiest answer, one that was true but didn’t fully explain the scope of her feelings.
“You’re a really good teacher so it was easy to pick up with your guidance.” Kennedy shoved a bite of food into her mouth before she could continue with anything more.
“Ja, but ze best student surpasses zheir teacher,” Kurt said with his fork in the air. “Und you vill be flipping ze circles around me before you know it.”
Despite his enthusiasm, there was a sincerity to Kurt's praise that gave it more credibility than may have been normal. He had been a professional performer trained by other professional performers. If anyone's opinion carried weight, it was his.
“Getting out of our own vay is sometimes ze hardest lesson of all, but I see eet in your eyes,” Kurt went on to say. “You do zhis by instinct. Zhis is good. It makes you a… a natural vonder.” His admiration was plain to see as the spade-shaped tip of his tail that flicked at his side. “I am glad ve hef you on our side.”
“I want to succeed,” Kennedy admitted and he could tell she was talking about something bigger than acrobatics. “Even before my life changed I knew I wanted to make things happen for myself. This past year of my life has shifted a lot of my perspectives but at the end of the day I still want to make things happen just on a bigger scale. I want to try and I want to achieve, I want to be the face of change. The work we do gives me purpose and direction. I feel like this curtain has been lifted and I can see so much more than the stage I was standing on. People… They need help, they need action to save them and I want to do that for them. I want to be the person who makes things better.”
Everything Kennedy was saying sounded so inspirational that Kurt couldn't help but be caught up in it. He was drawn in by Kennedy’s passion, the way her words carried a conviction so strong it seemed to radiate off of her. It stirred something in him, something both familiar and foreign—hope, purpose, a sense of belonging he had never truly claimed for himself before now.
“I vas content to be a performer, a traveler… und later, an exile. But after everything—I see it now.” His voice was quiet and tinged with wonder. “Helping ze X-Men, training alongside you all, fighting to make a difference—it has changed me. I am not just an outsider lending a hand. I am one of you.”
The realization sent a ripple of exhilaration through him, mixed with the humbling weight of responsibility. He had always been content in the shadows, playing the role of guide, of friend, of observer. But no more. He was an X-Man, in heart and in deed.
He looked back to Kennedy, his smile warm and unguarded. “Und I am honored to stand beside you in zhese battles. Your vision, your drive—it is a vonder to behold.” He was speaking of the joint mission of the X-Men as founded by Charles Xavier, but his own charisma began to shine through and focus all of his admiration directly onto Kennedy. “Ve may hef come from different vorlds, but I believe ve are reaching toward ze same future. Togesther ve may find ze dream come true, vhere true love and fresh hope finds us if only we do not give up!”
“I’m glad to hear that, Kurt, I was always worried that you would leave because this place… this lifestyle, wasn’t something you would enjoy.” Kennedy pushed a bite of pancakes through a puddle of syrup. While he had quelled some of her fears there were others that remained. Topics that were harder, if not impossible to approach.
“Maybe Wanda will like it too?” She continued to stare at her plate and the bite of food she was playing with. Kennedy was nervous to ask these probing questions but she wanted to better prepare herself for what was to come. “Her brother is in the city working with X-Factor so she might want to stay there… the two of you could get one of those posh apartments in the Baxter Building?”
“Ve are nomads,” Kurt said, “und zhere has no horizon zhat could keep us contained. But a home? Eet is not a decision for me to make alone, and zhere is no telling vhat may strike her fancy.”
As he spoke, Kurt began to get carried away with speculation and grandeur. “But eet is fun to zhink about! Her powers are vonderful in ze truest sense of ze vord, for she can accomplish great vonders. Ze possibilities of vhere and how to live, zhey are endless!” He let out a wistful sigh. “Ah, but first I must find her.” His tone turned toward deflation. “And zhen show her how great zhis… X-Family can be.”
Realizing he had begun to draw attention, Kurt quieted himself. “Vhat about you, Kennedy? It sounds as zhough you aspire to an X-Factor apartment.””
“Me? No, not really.” She set her fork down and seemed a little surprised by his question. “I don’t know where I’ll live, it just seemed like a better place to be with your partner. I mean all of X-Factor is older and they’re moving on and doing new things, it just seemed like the appropriate place for a couple to go, plus she would be closer to her brother.”
Kennedy seemed embarrassed by his question and the glaring differences in their lives it created. She had a room in the girl’s dormitory with a roommate, it was the total opposite of an apartment in the city. She was living like a student, where she stood in line to use the bathroom and had to be mindful of Angela’s space and privacy. Thinking about her living situation made her feel stupid for even mentioning it to Kurt. “I have a place to sleep and keep my stuff thanks to Xavier, I’m just grateful for what I have. I suppose I’d like my own space someday but the Baxter Building feels out of my reach.”
That struck Kurt as odd at first. Why should it be out of her reach? She was American gentry. Nothing was out of her grasp if she put her mind to it. But he considered her point of view in light of his own.
“I zhink I see vhat you mean,” Kurt said. “A prestigious place like Xavier's seems out of my reach as vell. Me! Faculty!” It seemed less and less preposterous by the day, but Kurt still chuckled at the statement, even pretending to pinch himself awake. “By gracious, a few months ago I didn't know it even existed. Yet here I am, an orphan circus performer visth an ecclesiastical education helping instruct ze next generation of mutants.” He shook his head at the wonder of it all. “It just goes to show zhat you should not sell yourself short eisther.”
“I don’t mean to sell myself short, I just have a hard time envisioning my future.” Kennedy picked up her fork again and began to poke and prod at her food without actually eating it. “If you asked me what my life would be like next December, I couldn’t tell you. I hope I find my calling but a bigger picture, it’s just so clouded that I can’t imagine it.”
She shook her head in disapproval, Kennedy knew some things for certain about herself but a lot was still unknown. “I was merely trying to figure out your plans, you know what you want for yourself, you know who you want to be with. It’s easier to come up with a future when those things are clear. But I guess I should leave that to you… and Wanda.”
“I just hope ve can find her soon,” Kurt said. “It has been nearly six months since she disappeared. Only in my darkest dreams do I imagine vhat may hef befallen her.” He was downcast for a moment, but his indomitable conviction won out. “But if I do not find her, zhen who vill? Not even her Vader is searching. Pietro has not given up, but ze vorld is a big place. I dare not lose hope.” He smiled warmly at Kennedy. “Danke, meine Freunde, for your encouraging reminder. Alvays it is very important to remember vhat ve are fighting for, ja?”
“Of course.” Kennedy forced herself to smile while she mentally scolded herself further. Kurt was in love with someone else, she enjoyed his company simply because he was nice to her, he had his own plans and they didn’t involve her. She said these things to herself in preparation for the goodbye she knew was coming. While Kurt seemed to think that everything would continue as it was, Kennedy knew better. He would have less time for training with her, he wouldn’t want to get up early for coffee, eating out on a whim wouldn’t be an option. All of those thoughts made her heart hurt. But then again, that pain was becoming her new normal.
Kennedy saw how happy he was when Kurt spoke about Wanda. His eyes lit up and his enthusiasm took on a sweet air of dreamy fondness. She was foolish for ever forgetting that about him. “I hope you find her someday, Kurt. She’s lucky to have you.”
“It… is good to speak of her,” Kurt said. “As much as it hurts… I confess zhat makes it difficult.” He sighed and let his complex bundle of emotions come back to center. “Surely you do not vish to listen to me babbling all morning of a perfect stranger. Zhere is happier table conversation to be had.” Kurt brightened at one thought. “Christmas is coming soon, ja? Tell me of Christmas in America. Vhat traditions should I know? Do you haf any favorites? I vant to know everyzhingk!”
“I don’t know if I’m the best person to explain conventional American traditions to you. My upbringing was a little different, I was raised in the public eye and my family always did stuff for public relations around the holidays. Our family Christmas cards went out to thousands of people, strangers who funded my father’s political campaigns or had some sort of affiliation with him. To this day, I still think it’s weird that my face was displayed in someone’s home along with a card from their Grandma.” Kennedy took a sip of her tea as she contemplated what she did like about the holiday. “We had four trees in the house but the one in our playroom was always my favorite, it had ornaments that looked like toys on it. At our farm In Connecticut, we would go on sleigh rides through the woods. We had a draft horse named Homer that pulled the sleigh. And I loved that my little sister still believed in Santa Clause, that look on her face because magic was still real for her… it was wonderful.” She looked out the window rather than at him while she spoke and Kurt watched the sadness as it returned to her eyes like clouds moving across the sky. “Our cook made the most picture perfect gingerbread cookies that somehow always remained soft and my dad would come home from D.C. for the break and would read A Christmas Carol to us by the fire every night. Every year my mother hosted a charity event for orphans around Christmas, it was a very fancy black tie event and her ballgowns were always so beautiful. I remember watching her get ready in those big swishy dresses… she was so glamorous, like a living doll.”
Kurt listened with rapt attention, his golden eyes alight with curiosity as Kennedy painted a picture of her Christmases past. He smiled at the heartwarming moments. At the more extravagant parts, he nodded, clearly intrigued but also amused by the sheer luxury of it all.
“Christmas in America sounds… lavish,” he mused, his tail flicking slightly. “So many trees! So many festivities! Eet’s like a fairytale.”
He leaned back slightly, his smile turning nostalgic as he glanced toward the window. “In Vinzeldorf, it vas much simpler. Brother Johan vould always encourage me to leave a letter for ze Christkind on ze vindowsill…” He trailed off, thinking of how to best describe the word. “Ze Christkind is like a Christmas cherub who brings gifts to children.” He chuckled softly. “Of course, I knew it vas him sneaking avay ze letter vhen he zhought I could not see. But I pretended never to notice, for his sake as much as mine.”
His voice took on a wistful quality as he continued. “I remember traveling to Munich und Vienna vith ze circus once during ze season. Ze lights! Ze Christmas markets! Everyzhingk vas so beautiful, so lavish just as you described. But it felt… hollow, somehow.” He looked down at his cup, turning it idly between his fingers. “Vhat is beauty if you haf no one to share it vith?”
Kurt exhaled and looked back up at Kennedy, warmth returning to his expression. “Christmas is for family, ja? Und I do not know vhat I expected from Herr Professor’s school, but I did not expect all ze feasts und ze decorations und ze celebrations. But I love it!” His smile widened, almost childlike in its enthusiasm. “For ze first time in my life, I think I may actually hef a family for celebrating. Und I hope Herr Professor continues his love for celebrations because I vould love to share Christmas vith all of you.”
“I’m glad you’re excited about Christmas, it can be a really joyful holiday.” Kennedy refrained from mentioning herself. Just like when it came to the topic of Wanda, Kurt was so enthusiastic about the subject that he couldn’t see everything else that was happening. She enjoyed his positive disposition but Kennedy struggled to find the same happiness in the holiday. “I’m sure the Professor has lots of wonderful things planned for Christmas, this isn’t his first time celebrating with a school full of misbegotten misfits.”
Kennedy lost her appetite over the subject of Christmas so she crossed her knife and fork across her plate in a tidy ‘X’ before pushing it away from herself. She stuffed down her hurt and tried to focus on the good that was sitting across from her.
“You should get your picture taken with Santa.” He could tell by her tone that she was only half serious. “I think that’s an American Christmas tradition, it’s usually reserved for children but if we tell them it’s your first Christmas in America I’m sure they would make an exception.”
“And become a Santa elf?” Kurt couldn’t hold back a belly laugh at the notion. “I zhink not! On second zhought, however, perhaps I vould keep ze hat.” It was all so silly that Kurt lost himself in the humor of the moment. He was nearly finished with his own food, though, so he hurried up to eat the last of it. “Is your food spoiled? Do you need somezhingk else from ze kitchen?” The concern was real despite his good humor. “Or if you are finished, zhen I could get zhat dog bag.”
Kennedy laughed through her nose at his response to her silly suggestion and his turn of phrase, it was hard to remain sad when Kurt was around. “There isn’t anything wrong with it, I’m just not hungry anymore. I guess you could take it home if you wanted my leftovers. I’m surprised you can still think of food, you cleaned all your plates. I’m going to take that as a sign that you’re becoming Americanized.”
She took a sip from her tea and then smirked at the mental picture she had created for herself. “We’ll have you wearing red, white, and blue and setting off fireworks for the next Fourth of July.”
That made Kurt arch an eyebrow which made his glowing eye rather pronounced. “Ah, anosther festival, I presume? And a color-coded festival at zhat. How splendid.” Due to his uncertain read on the topic, his tone was somewhere between sincere and sarcastic. “I could zhink of vorse countries… Latveria, Symkaria, Belarus for starters. So far zhis land has been delightful.” He nodded down at his plate. “You can always tell by ze cuisine. If I must vear ze red and vhite and blue, zhen zhat ees vhat I vill do.”
“It’s an American holiday… you’ll see.” Kennedy replied with the first sign of optimism that Kurt would still be at the school in seven months time. The logical part of her wanted to question that as a means to protect herself from the hurt his departure with Wanda would cause but in this moment, it was fun to plan ahead for an unknown future.
As if waiting for the opportunity, their waitress returned with a styrofoam container and their check. She placed both on the table with a brief smile before departing to help the fresh wave of customers that arrived now that the hour was farther away from ‘god awful early in the morning’.
Kennedy leaned forward in her seat while reaching for her purse as she quickly performed the mental math required to split the bill. “Twelve dollars each.” She said while opening her wallet, “That will cover the tip too.”
Kurt reached into his pocket and removed a charge card that looked for too luxurious for him to be carrying. “Herr Professor gave me zhis and said eet’s for somezhingk called an expense account.”
His cheeks flushed indigo as he slid it across the table to Kennedy. The text on it said Coutts World in bold stenciling above X-CORPORATION in block letters.
“I hef not used it yet,” he said with a bashful chuckle. “I vas too embarrassed to say zhat I never learned how it vorks.”
“A credit card?” Kennedy picked up and examined the rectangle of plastic, she recognized the name of the creditor as being a financial institute for the elite of the world. She knew Xavier was wealthy but not that wealthy, it sparked a pang of want from the Boston Brahma that remained inside of her. “It lets you buy things now and pay for it later, or at least for the Professor to pay for later.”
“Any place that has this logo on display by their register.” She pointed at the two overlapping circles at the bottom corner of the card. “You give this to them rather than paper money and they will use it to cover the cost of what you’re buying. They’ll give you a little slip of paper to sign for their records and the transaction is complete.”
Kennedy bit her lower lip as she contemplated the freedom Kurt had with such a luxurious item. He didn’t really seem to know and she didn’t want to exploit the situation. “I’m not really sure what the Professor would consider an acceptable use of an expense account. I can pay for today just to be safe.”
“I hef a per diem allowance zhat I’ve never used,” Kurt said. “I am sure zhat can pay for our meal.” Reading her expression, Kurt asked, “Alzhough I gasther from ze look in your eyes zhat it may pay for much more, ja?”
The rhetorical question gave Kurt pause, unsettling him with the surreal notion that he had great wealth at his fingertips. Of course, it wasn’t really his; it belonged to Charles Xavier’s estate. Even though that technicality soothed his conscience regarding the vow of poverty he had taken for a season, the concept behind the vow was what shook him. Man did not need wealth to be satisfied and it was a grave deception to think so. Perhaps the biggest barrier to him using the charge card he had been given was that. It may have been more reluctance than true ignorance. Alone in his room, that would make sense after a fashion, but here with Kennedy, it suddenly felt so silly.
“Zhen I shall endeavor to be a good steward visth vhat I hef been entrusted,” Kurt said at length, a happy smile returning to his face. “Zhank you for indulging me and my... eccentricities.”
“We come from very different worlds,” Kennedy replied while reaching out and touching the long layered length of designer pearls she wore around her neck. She had always been surrounded by opulence and the luxury that was provided had become the mundane standard. Seeing how other people lived, what they needed to be happy, it had been humbling. “I like your eccentricities; they are a reminder of what really matters.”
She offered him the cash that she had pulled out of her purse for the meal. “Pay with your card but at least let me cover my half. Besides, it’s good to carry some paper money with you just in case a place doesn’t accept your card.”
That seemed an agreeable arrangement. Kurt found himself grateful for Kennedy's experience and guidance. After spending so much time avoiding the greater world, Kurt realized just how little he really knew of it. He had always been an outsider looking in, not any more part of even the circus or the monastery than he was the ancient ruins he'd visited. Having a place to belong here and now felt so foreign. But it also felt good, scratching an itch he had ignored his entire life.
“I like ze vay you zhink,” Kurt finally said with a knowing grin. “Perhaps I should hef been more humble and asked for help sooner. In ze future, I vill do just zhat.”
“Your life has changed a lot, you’re not even in your own country anymore. The culture shock alone is enough to make someone’s head spin. Besides, you ask questions almost everyday while we read the paper together. I don’t think it’s pride that has slowed you from asking, just the sheer volume of questions that have presented themselves to you.” Kennedy slid the rest of her breakfast into her to-go box, the now syrup dense pancakes humorously plopping into the container. “It takes time to adjust, don’t be so hard on yourself.”
“You hef God's own grace, Kennedy, and I zhank you for it.” He chuckled at the sloppy pancakes that he knew would not be appetizing once they grew cold. Waste not, want not, though. The way Kennedy made her virtues seem so casual was perhaps the most elegant part about her. “May I carry your doggy bag?” Cocking his head, he said, “Not exactly a bag, ja? Eet looks like a box…”
“Thanks.” It wasn’t clear if she was showing gratitude for his complement or his offer to carry her things, it was most likely both. “The phrase is more about the act than the container itself,” Kennedy said with a smile, Kurt had a simple charm to him that she couldn’t help but find appealing. “Come on, we should probably go before the rest of the breakfast rush starts, the waitress wants to turn the table.”
Kennedy stood up and a few pairs of eyes turned to look at her before they noticed Kurt, they both seemed to attract attention but for different reasons. “Don’t forget your hat.” She pointed at the discarded accessory.
Kurt had indeed nearly forgotten it. After their meal, though, the morning felt somehow lighter. Kurt folded the bucket hat and tucked it into an inner pocket along the folds of his coat.
“Ja, I vould hef forgotten had you not said somezhingk,” Kurt admitted. “But maybe I don't need it just now.”
With golden eyes glowing bright and his pointed ears sticking out for all to see, Kurt gave Kennedy a wide, fanged grin. It was a far cry from the reticent disposition he'd brought into the diner. Kurt looked genuinely happy and free. “Shall ve go zhen?”
“Let’s go,” Kennedy said in agreement as they stood up and faced one another. For a brief moment nothing else mattered, only Kurt’s optimism mattered. Then the clash and clatter of breakfast started as their table was bussed right behind her and Kennedy was pulled back to reality. “But first you’d better pay.”
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