After the Good-Byes

[Rowena]

Disclaimer: I do not own the X-Men. Please do not sue me or steal my story. Thanks!

NOTE: In this story, everything in italics is in English. Everything else isn’t. Just so you know, the conversation is started off by the father.


After the Good-Byes
By Rowena


“He’ll be switching planes by now. The 9:45 for Heathrow. Then, one more switch and he’s off to America. Then a taxi to Bayville.”

“What is this? Do you have his entire travel schedule memorized?”

“I just like to know where he is. Is it all right for me to want to know where my son is?”

“He’s not a little boy anymore. He can take care of himself. There’s no need for you to worry yourself like this.”

“No. No, he isn’t a little boy anymore. In fact, he is very nearly a man. The next time he comes here, he will be eighteen. A young adult. Maybe he won’t even come.”

“What kind of talk is that? Of course he’ll come! He is our son, no matter how old he gets. He’ll come.”

“No. He’ll have a girlfriend by then, a life of his own. What does he need with us? We’re his past. His future is in New York. Didn’t you notice his accent?”

“So he picked up a tiny little American accent. So what? Are you trying to say that means he doesn’t love us? Because if you are, it sounds to me like you don’t know our son as well as you think you might.”

“Tell me something. After you left home, how often did you visit your parents? And they lived in the next town, barely five miles away! There’s an entire ocean and half a continent between us and Kurti.”

“I say he’ll come, and he’ll keep coming each and every year. Kurti may have changed during his time in America, but he’s still our Kurti, image inducer or no.”

“Yeah, what did you think of that thing? I didn’t even recognize him when he came off the plane.”

“He sent us those pictures. You remember, that fancy school photograph, all expensive and professionally done. How could you not have recognized him?”

“A photograph is one thing. Real life is another.”

“That’s right. It’s about time you realized that.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“You were expecting a little boy to come running off that plane, admit it. It took you off guard to see that handsome young man waving at us.”

“No! No. It’s just…he’s growing up so fast. So fast, and we’re missing it. We only get to see him one week out of every year now, and already he is so different! He is so confident, so sure of himself—“

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“No! I’m just saying….. He’s different.”

“So are you. So am I! What, do you want time to stand still? The fact Kurti is different only proves it was right to send him to Xavier’s Institute! What kind of life would he have had if he stayed here? Answer me that!”

“Well…”

“Not much of one, that I can tell you. He couldn’t go to school with the other children. He had no friends.”

“There was the circus—“

“That only came around once a year. And what kind of a future would that have been anyway? What kind of message would that have given him? The only place you can ever be accepted is the circus? No. Kurti is far more than just a convenient circus attraction. He may have enjoyed performing and yes, he was an extremely talented acrobat, but there is so much more to him than that. He has so much more potential, and it is only in America that it can finally be realized! We knew we couldn’t keep him forever.”

“Perhaps so. But I didn’t like the way he seemed so dependent on that watch of his. He didn’t even turn that holo-whatzit off when we got home. I actually had to tell him, ‘Kurt, we’re home now. Why don’t you drop the holo-thing and show me your smile.’ At least with us he never felt he needed to hide his appearance!”

“Say that again? Either your memory’s chosen to rewrite history in a rosy glow or else I heard wrong, but it sounded to me like you just said Kurti never felt he had to hide his appearance here.”

“So he had to bundle up when he went outside. At least he wasn’t hiding behind some technobabble mask! Isn’t that Xavier supposed to teach his students to accept themselves for who they are?”

“Kurt does accept himself. More than he used to, anyway. Don’t you remember how he would sneak into our bed and cry all night because of his nightmares? Because he was so afraid he might turn out to be a demon when he grew up? He didn’t know what he was. We certainly didn’t know what he was. Who around here has ever heard of mutants?”

“Yes, I remember. And it is good to see him so happy. I never realized how much fun it could be to go food shopping before we went with Kurt this Sunday.”

“Yes, that was a good trip. And, another benefit of that image inducer. Kurti could laugh and just be himself in front of all those people, and no one even gave him a second glance. Well, except for those girls.”

“Girls? What girls?”

“You didn’t see? There was one by the ice cream and another at the check-out. They were smiling at our Kurti with that gleam in their eye…”

“And he smiled back?”

“Of course! I can’t believe you didn’t notice. He was perfectly charming.”

“Well, he is my son, after all.”

“Oh, so when he’s charming he’s your son, but when he leaves fur in the bathtub, then he’s mine.”

“Sounds about right.”

“He is getting very handsome, though. It’s no wonder all those girls at that Institute of his are fawning all over him.”

“If I recall, he only really mentioned one girl. Kitten? Strange name for a girl.”

“I think her real name is Katherine. Kitten is a nickname of sorts.”

“Oh. Well, in any case, from what I heard it sounded to me like Kurt was the one doing all the fawning.”

“I’m sure he was just being modest. You know how modest our Kurti is.”

“Modest. Right.”

“I suppose these decorations will have to come down now. Christmas is over, after all.”

“Have you noticed how much dimmer the Christmas tree lights look now Kurti is gone? It’s almost as if they miss him.”

“It was his spirit that made this house come alive. For a few, shining days, we had his laughter and jokes, stories and antics to brighten this place up. Now he’s left for America everything is dulling back down to plain old ordinary.”

“I’ll take down the tree tomorrow. At least we don’t have any leftovers to worry about.”

“If there is one thing our Kurti knows how to do, it’s eat. He’s still growing, after all. He needs the energy.”

“Then there’s the teleporting to consider. He never used to eat half so much until that started up.”

“There was a day for the books. I don’t think I’ve ever been so frightened!”

“You! What about Kurt?! It was days before we could calm him down enough to convince him he hadn’t turned into a demon. And even with all our reassurances, it wasn’t until we got Xavier’s call that I was convinced myself.”

“You mean, you actually thought—“

“Only for a moment. I mean…there was all that smoke, and that smell! You can’t tell me the thought didn’t occur to you.”

“No. I can’t. But I knew there had to be another explanation.”

“So did I. Our Kurti could never be a demon, no matter his appearance or his parentage.”

“Speaking of his real parents, I’ve been wondering if we should try to get in contact with Principal Darkholme.”

“Why? When has she ever been a mother to Kurti? Never, that’s when. Kurt sees us as his parents. He told me so.”

“What, you didn’t ask him--!”

“No. He just told me. When I went to tuck him in. And before you say anything, yes I know he’s seventeen now. Or late sixteen. I just wanted to check on him, to make sure he was comfortable. Besides, he didn’t seem to mind.

“You know, on second thought maybe we should try to contact that Darkholme woman. It would be good to know Kurt’s real birthday.”

“We can try to call after the holidays. Once school begins again.”

“Yes, I think that would— What’s that?”

“It’s the phone.”

“I know it’s the phone! I’m not deaf. Not yet, anyway.”

“Oh, really? Could have fooled me.”

“Cut the wisecracks and get the phone, will you? It might be Kurti!”

“Already?”

“Just get the phone before whoever it is hangs up! It must have been eight or nine rings by now!”

“With a father like you, it’s astonishing to me that our Kurti has grown up so polite. Hallo?”

“Well, who is it?”

“Yes, we’ll accept the call.”

“Who is it!”

“Yes, this is she. Who is this?”

“I’m going into the kitchen to pick up the other phone.”

“Kurt! Are you all right? Has something happened?”

“Kurt! It is Kurt?! I’ll be in the kitchen!”

“Kurt, sweetie, where are you?”

“I’m at the Institute, Mutti. Professor Xavier picked me up at the airport in the X-Jet. You see—“

“Hallo? Hallo, Kurt! Are you there?!”

“Hallo, Papa! So, you’re there too!”

“Kurt, son, has anything happened? You should be on your way to Heathrow right now!”

“Yeah, I was, but Professor Xavier picked me up at the airport. I’m already back in New York!”

“What, so soon? This Xavier guy must be some kind of rich to have a jet that fast!”

“Yeah, he sure is, Papa. You and Mutti really should come and visit the mansion sometime! I know how to fly the X-Jet, and I’m sure Herr Professor would let me borrow it for a while.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that, Kurti. I rather like my feet right where they are. On the ground.”

“Mutti, it’s perfectly safe! Especially with me as your pilot!”

“I’m sure you’re a wonderful pilot, Kurti. That just means you’ll be able to visit us more often, no?”

“Ach, Mutti, flying is fun! There’s nothing to be scared of! Papa, you tell her.”

“I’m sorry, Kurti, but you know how your mother is.”

“Oh? And how am I?”

“Stubborn, that’s how you are. And Kurt, stop that laughing. It’s not nice to laugh at your mother.”

“Who says he’s laughing at me?”

“All right, you two, that’s enough! If you won’t come with me, I’ll just have to come to you. I was thinking maybe during Spring Break or something. I don’t want to wait all the way until next Christmas before I get to see you again.”

“See? He misses us. What were you so worried about?”

“What? Of course I miss you! Why would you ever be worried about that?”

“Your father was just moaning about how grown up you’re getting, son. He misses his little boy.”

“Papa, you know I’ll always be your son, no matter how old I get! What’s with all this silly moaning?”

“What was that? Spring Break sounds fine, son. When is that, February sometime?”

“Smooth. Your subtle shifting of the subject…astounding!”

“No need for applause. Kurti, ignore your mother’s sarcasm. She was moaning just as loudly.”

“Right. Anyway, I’ll talk to Herr Professor and see what I can do. I was thinking maybe next time I could bring some friends with me? They don’t know any German, but I’ve told them so much about you and they’d really like to meet you. Mutti, you can make your famous bratwurst! Oh, but Katzchen is Jewish so maybe not. She can’t eat pork, you know.”

“Kurti, you can bring whoever you want to come and see us. If I have to slave over the stove for weeks, I’ll make sure they’re all properly fed. And, once your father finally gets around to repainting the guest room…”

“Why didn’t you tell me the guest room needed painting? I could have helped while I was there!”

“It was a holiday, son. There’s a rule in this house about holidays. No work.”

“Kurt, are you, like, done with the phone yet? I, like, totally need to use it!”

“Just a minute, Kitty! I’m talking with my parents.”

“You just spent a week talking with your parents! This is, like, totally important!”

“You practically live on the phone. Can’t I have just a few more minutes?”

“Kurt, when you’re done with the phone I’d like to speak with you in my office.”

“What? Ach, all right, Professor. I’ll be there soon.

“Mutti, Papa, I’m really sorry but I have to go now.”

“We understand, son. Write soon?”

“Of course! And I’ll call too, when I can.”

“I heard that tone. Were you talking about me in German?”

“Nein, Katzchen. If I was talking about you, you’d know it.”

“I do know it!”

“Well, good-bye. For now, anyway. I love you both, never forget that! And quit with the moaning, OK?”

“What moaning? What reason do we have to moan? We have a wonderful son who loves us and misses us and is working his hardest to become a successful young man. We have no right to moan.”

“Right, Papa. Talk to you later, OK?”

“Kurrrt! I, like, need the phone!”

“Good-bye, Kurt. Be well.”

“You too, Mutti. Bye.”

“Finally! Really, you’ve been talking for, like, an hour—“ CLICK.

“Well, he’s safe.”

“That’s good to know.”

“So. Do you want to watch a film?”

“Anything good on TV?”

“Nah. I meant a videocassette. How about ‘Captain Blood’?”

“Kurti’s favorite.”

“Mine too. Kid’s got good taste. So, how about it?”

“Sounds good to me. I’ll make the popcorn and you get the tape.”

The End




I hope it wasnt too confusing, being written all in dialogue like that. What did you think?

[Siona]

*GASP* This is so great! You are now officially on my Favorite Authors list! Kurt's family has barely been touched, their side of his story rarely told. You did that, and you did it with an air of sophistication, family, and grace. Good job!

Curious though; is Kurti a German nickname for Kurt?

~Siona

[SheCat]

Oh, great stuff. I like those pure dialogue ones. Very nice.

[Rowena]

I've read some stories on InterNutter's site where Kurt's parents call him Kurti and I thought it was cute so I used it here. I don't know if it's German or not.

I based Kurt's parents on my own. I think they saw it as a compliment...

I'm so thrilled you liked it! Thanks!

[John Doe]

Ach! So you got the "Kurti" nickname from Internutter too! My favorite fanfic is still "Don't Pity Me", despite obscenity and graphic storytelling.

I love when already great writers use innovative forms like this. Your range of ability is amazing. It only got confusing when there were three people on the phone; for the most part it was very clear. And not only did you use a new form, you chose a topic completely untapped until now!

Great job- thanks for pointing me in the direction of these fics!

[Rowena]

please move this to completed fics