DISCLAIMER: (For those who don't know me, my disclaimers are jokes. Literally) (No offence to Lawyers for this one!)
Q) How do you know when a lawyer's going to lie?
A) They open their mouth…

Hey, while I'm thinking on it. Astrid and Johannes are names created for Kurt's parents by Internutter. All the others, as far as I know, are either Marvel's or mine. Big deal, yes? And these- /======\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ mean change in tense, from present to Kurt aged seven. We all good?

##########====###########

Harvard Ventile had first based his entire career on trying to help those teenagers that would one day look back on the pitiful woes and laugh. Sure, they would say, our problems were terrible for a teenager to deal with, but if I knew then what I know now…

And one day they would look back and thank the heavens for that school psychologist. He helped me through my pathetic worries. Even if just to listen.

So when Jean Gray approached him just before Christmas, he was not only surprised, but eager. Miss popularity was a common problem is girls. They either regretted what they did to others to get where they were, or wished they were higher. He'd seen it a million times.

"It's not actually for me, Mr. Ventile." She smiled. "I don't suppose you know about the institute I attend?"

"Ah, yes, Xavier's institute for Gifted Youngsters."

"Yes. Well, we accept students from all over the globe. One of the students is Kurt Wagner… do you know him?"

Indeed Ventile did know Kurt Wagner. He was one of those that were often sent to him for being disruptive, as if they expected Ventile to suggest medication. But Kurt was a much more interesting case, if he remembered correctly. He behaved very oddly, even if he never did stop smiling.

"Well, I think he needs some help." She said delicately. "But I don't imagine he'd be too impressed if we suggested it. So I wondering if maybe… you could."

Ventile smiled. "I could talk to him. See if it's imperative. Would that put your mind at ease?"

"No, but I'd appreciate it." She smiled again.

So for the next three days, Ventile spent his free time examining the boy. Three days to the appointment. And in those three days, he became increasingly disturbed.

After the appointment, he was convinced. Kurt Wagner was your textbook Crying Class Clown. He had a great deal of stress and trauma, but shrugged it off with a joke and a smile. No one would ever know he was in pain.

Personal space issues- Physical violence?
Strong family belief- Family has been hurt.
These two… domestic violence.
Possible bulimia.
Rarely changes clothing.
Vulcan salute- fantasy world?

The list went on. When Kurt finally did agree to regular sessions, he and Ventile began an increasingly irritating game of cat and mouse. Kurt would offer up the most ridiculous statements, then not explain himself. He would mention names and small details of his personal life, then refuse to elaborate.

When he did, it was such a ridiculous story that Ventile seriously considered writing a novel from it. Psychological thriller. Would hit the best seller list straight away in the mutant-crazed world.

The disturbing thing was it all fit together perfectly. It explained everything.

Which is why Ventile found himself alone on the last night of school, staring at his tapes of Wagner sessions.

##########====###########

"Ladies and Gentlemen!" cried Kurt, jumping onto the table. "We got the DVD to work in the rec.!"

Bobby jumped up. "About time!" he looked at Scott, exasperated. "I was about ready to call it in! Who cares about what's comfortable, I want my movies!"

Scott grinned. "I hear that. How'd you do it, in the end?" he asked Kurt, who was walking along the table above them.

"I called in a favour from Kitty." He said, looking at his hands in regret. "These fingers just weren't meant for wires and stuff."

"You risked shorting out our stuff?" cried Bobby. "How dare you!"

"She'd got better control than that, Bobby." Said Jean.

"Yeah. I do!" said Kitty, as Kurt jumped down to go through the door with them. "And besides, you were the one who wanted this team bonding night."

"No, I was the one that wanted a movie night. Scott and Jean made it a practice of bondage."

"Bobby!" snapped Scott.

Rogue smiled softly when she saw Kurt laugh. He'd bounced back a lot better than usual. He was actually laughing now, not just pretending. And the grin was new, something they hadn't seen, ever.

She sighed. She, however, wasn't dealing nearly as well.

When 'Loke' touched her bare hand, she'd absorbed all Kurt's bad memories. And not just things most of the institute knew, like Winzeldorf, being burnt. Bad memories like the glass building, and the old things with Stefan. She could remember being forced to write until sleep overpowered you. Being stolen. Being told he was stolen.

She shivered.

No. She wasn't going to think about stuff like that tonight. Tonight was the last night of school, and god help her, she was going to enjoy it. So what if she'd almost failed about three classes? She had her final year to look forward to. And two months of nothing before that.

She collapsed on the sofa bed beside Kurt and he grinned at her. "I snuck in a Daria movie for you."

"Cool." She grinned. "Which one?"

"Think it's the one about college…" he frowned. "Dunno. I wasn't really paying attention."

"And why not?"

"Have you seen the chick who works at the video store?" whispered Bobby from her other side. "Zowie!"

Kurt chuckled. "Something like that."

/======\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

"Something like that." Said Joch. The French actor had joined the circus only a few months ago, but he had adapted to the fantasy like a gypsy. He grinned at his co-star. "You need help with that?"

Kurt growled at his costume. "No kidding I need help. The collar won't attach at the back."

Joch smiled and took it from him. The 'collar' was really just a loose bit of felt, designed so it looked like Kurt was wearing a mask. It had a long pretend Zipper down the back, which attached to a chain of silver that coupled as a belt and pretended to hold his tail in place.

To a naïve audience member, it would look like Kurt, Flockig the Ringmaster, was wearing a cheap, if well made, costume.

Kurt cleared his throat, bouncing up and down absently, trying to warm up. "Did Mama say what the crowd way like tonight?"

"Non, I'm afraid." He adjusted his own costume and picked up his baton. "But we need not worry. They'll think you're insane just like every other crowd." He pointed to the circus ring. "You ready?"

"As ever. See you out there." Said Kurt, before jumping for the rope ladder.

Astrid and Johannes entered the back of the tent, smiling. "Day, Joch. Where's Kurti gone?"

"Upstairs. Why?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Just Stefan. He's convinced there's someone out there after him, as usual. You know how Kurti gets scared of those stories." Astrid pulled open the costume trunk and passed Johannes his uniform. "Especially when he puts in all those insane vampire slayers."

Joch rolled his eyes. "If you ask me, Margali needs to reign that boy in. He's getting out of hand. He's even getting Jimaine in on the act."

Johannes shrugged. "Yeah. I know that, you know that, half the circus knows that, but Margali sure doesn't."

"She refuses to admit her son is scaring the life out of people. With all those 'predictions' of his."

The Frenchman grimaced, and the music started outside. "And that's our cue to shut up, correct?"

"Correct." She smiled.

##########====###########

Kurt looked down from his perch. Ugh. He loved heights and climbing and all that, but what he was worried about was what if he misjudged it? After all, if he messed up, that left the circus kinda stuck. No way to tie in a few of the acts.

He waited until the music hit a certain note, braced himself and listened for the drums.

He jumped into the black.

He landed in a spotlight as the cymbals crashed, his head down, his arms and legs positioned to look like a cat. He looked up from under his eyebrows, grinning.

Then he released a smoke pellet and flipped away into a gymnast pose. He grinned around him. It would, he knew, look fairly impressive, to a new audience. The effect was lost after a few shows.

"Mein Damen und Herren! Mesdames et messieurs! Ladies and Gentlemen!" he cried, spinning dramatically so they would notice the tail. "Welcome! Welcome to my circus! Welcome to The Fair! I am the Ringmaster, Flockig! Yes, Flockig." He added, grinning.

"Tonight, you will see amazing feats! Tricks of the eye, acts of contortionism to rival water, flying acrobatics so spectacular you forget flying is impossible. And then there's the rest of the troupe." He grinned again. "Yes, I did say you would forget the impossible. This is because, my dear, dear friends, nothing is impossible at The Fair. The future is not shrouded in darkness. Magic is not some story. Fantasy, as you can see, comes to life. And so, without further ado-"

"HERR FLOCKIG!"

Kurt froze theatrically, hunching his shoulders and baring his teeth in a grimace. He quickly turned to Joch, who was storming from the backstage. "Yes, my lord?"

"What are you doing out here?"

"Well, I-"

"I'm sorry, Ladies and Gentlemen, but I believe you have been misled." He turned apologetically to the crowd, who had been quite enjoying the display. "This is Herr Flockig, he cleans the magic out of the air after the show. I did not realise he was taking over the show." He cocked an eye at Kurt. "Now get backstage. Frau Conjurer is waiting for you."

"But my lord!"

"Flockig…"

##########====###########

Kurt slid back through the curtain amid gales of laughter. The tirade had lasted longer than usual, but the crowd liked it. Kurt enjoyed anything the crowd enjoyed, so he was grinning like a madman, running through the troupe to where his adopted mother was waiting.

"How'd it go?" asked Johannes, sweeping him up into a hug.

Kurt laughed, struggling against his foster father's hold. "Paaapa! Let me go! It went great! Good audience tonight."

"Ach, Kurti!" Astrid pushed back his hair and frowned. "You cut yourself on Joch's baton again!"

Kurt wriggled away. "I'm fine. Where's Stefan?"

"In the midway."

"Aww!" Kurt couldn't see him if Stefan was working. While the circus was open for customers, Kurt wasn't allowed to even leave the tent. Especially not during a performance, because he was meant to stay by the entrances, waiting for a good time to 'muck up' the show. "What about Jimaine?"

"Midway."

He groaned, his tail lashing in frustration. It got boring waiting for the fire-masters to finish.

He wandered back to the front of the backstage and lay down on the ground, looking out from under the tent flaps.

##########====###########

Kurt stormed outside and sat down hard. Joch had, without thinking, grabbed hold of his tail in order to drag him around the ring. Kurt knew Joch was sorry and that he hadn't meant it, but that didn't mean he was any less annoyed.

He scooped up a random pebble and tossed it at the next tent.

People never understood that his tail wasn't just there. People couldn't understand that it hurt more than if someone grabbed an arm or leg. No one else had a tail, so he didn't hold it against them, but it was a little depressing.

There was no one like him, and no one could ever understand what it was like to be him.

No one even knew what he was.

He groaned, annoyed with his train of thought. He knew he wasn't a demon, which is what most people called him. He certainly wasn't human, but he FELT human. He didn't feel any different to the other kids… well, he didn't understand girls. They were weird. He didn't really understand Stefan either, but Stefan was a sorcerer. No one understood sorcerers. Not even other sorcerers.

Kurt frowned. Something felt a little wrong. He wasn't sure what, but he suddenly felt very uncomfortable. Then his actual senses caught up with his 'feeling' and he turned, confused.

"Uh… who are-"

##########====###########

Joch came through the curtain and immediately fell into a apologetic stance. He looked at Viktor. "Seen Kurti?"

The tumbler shook his head. "Uh… he came back about twenty minutes ago, went outside. Didn't he come in again?"

"No. I pulled his tail in the ring…"

"Ach, Joch!" he groaned. "You don't pull the tail!"

"I know! I need to apologise. He didn't come on and I had to improvise for bringing on the next act. Can you just take over from Margali while I go find him? We can't do that again."

Viktor nodded. "Yes, of course. I'll tell the others. You just find Kurti."

"Thank you, Viktor. Break a leg."

"I'll never get used to that saying…"

/======\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

"Of course, they didn't find him." Said the tape, sounding for all the world like he was discussing the weather. "But they tried. Oh, God, but they tried. Spent hours, then days looking for him. Eventually, though, the circus had to move on. Joch tore himself up. Thought it was his fault. He left the circus, staying in the village, waiting for Kurt to come back. He convinced Astrid and Johannes that they couldn't stay in the village. With the star and the ringmaster gone, Joch reasoned, der Jahkmart couldn't afford to lose their best acrobats. But every night after the circus closed, they would go out into the surrounding woods, as if they'd find him."

Ventile rubbed his eyes, scanning the page of notes in front of him. He drank from the wineglass by his hand and sighed.

"They didn't find him. Not until they came back to the village, two years later. And there, waiting for them, was Joch, holding a little nine-year-old demon in his arms, who wouldn't speak, and flinched at every movement. He refused to write." The voice chuckled. "What happened? Well, isn't it obvious, Mr. Ventile? No? Well. Allow me to continue where we left off…"

Ventile turned off the tape and ran a hand through his hair. That was enough for tonight. He didn't know why he was going back over these things. It would be amazing if he ever saw Kurt Wagner again.

He coughed and tried to convince himself. He was going to write that novel. He needed notes. Yes. That was it.

So Harvard Ventile set down his notes and picked up his wineglass, then left his study. That was enough for tonight.