Michael
The Other Nightcrawler

An X-Men: Evolution Fanfiction by fudje. Well, close enough.
Nightcrawler has a partially disassociated identity, and he's on a mission. A mission to be bad; And, incidentally, rebuild a family that never was.

I am sick of disclaimers, and they're pointless. No-one to whom it matters is going to read me telling them that I don't own their IP, and if they did decide to sue, saying "I said I didn't own it" holds no legal weight whatsoever. Fortunately, Marvel, the owners of X-Men: Evolution and probably every character that's going to appear in this story, don't appear to be like that :·)


Not the beginning

You thought you had problems. I can't even begin to describe mine to someone who has so very little idea. I guess I'm going to have to try anyway.

I am Michael, or Nightcrawler if you prefer. Sis' once told me that Mother originally intended to call me that – I was to be Baron Michael Von Wagner, or failing that, Michael Darkholme. I named myself, because I'm sure Mother would have preferred if I, as Michael, became this as opposed to that tasteless and misguided 'fuzzy elf' they call Kurt Wagner. I don't even want to know how his parents found that supposed lineage. Mother was right to do whatever she did to her husband at the time; Although I probably could have done without her running to Magneto. I still wonder what it was that he did to me in that lab — I know now that my exceptional sexiness has nothing to do with it, but not even Mother knows truly what it was the man was doing to me. The question is, do I hold a sword to his throat, or ask Sis' to absorb him proper and tell me? If she'll do it; I guess I'll just have to wait until her true self comes shining through again. I know that inside she's not the do-gooder the X-Men all think her to be. Oh mother, if only you hadn't lied to her, and had pushed a different geek off that cliff. For the day when we become one happy family….

Maybe it's better it happened like this anyway; Some part of me seems to believe that if I hadn't been raised as Kurt Wagner, I'd have been stuck in some old attic because Mother would be scared to take me out in public, hoping against hope that when my mutation developed beyond my physical appearance, it would include her shape shifting abilities. So much for that.

Any which way, I know now that it is my responsibility to bring our family together, despite that neither my sister nor my mother trust the other one, and despite that Kurt has given us a reputation for being a joker. And Mystique will not bend, oh no, so I have to become dark and twisted, which did not suit Kurt at all, and I must convince my sister Rogue to put more faith in our mother — which will be so difficult itself. As to how I achieve this, well perhaps you would prefer a more interesting story than me just telling you myself.


Wanda shivered as she walked the dark street. It had been warm enough when she'd set out, but in the space of a half hour or so a storm had moved in, covering the moon and, apparently, providing a power outage over several blocks, including the one that she was currently in. 'Perfect' she thought sarcastically, 'Goes with the eerie glowing eyes I keep seeing.'

Indeed, the Scarlet Witch was sure that there was something out there following her, and she wasn't quite sure what. Every so often she'd see the glowing eyes near where the roofline should be, and every time she'd tell herself that it was probably her imagination. Or, it could be something else… beings that weren't entirely human were not exactly unheard of in her paradigm. She could probably deal with it, anyway.

A sheet of lightning illuminated the sky, and now her suspicions were confirmed. A demonic silhouette was perched above the building just ahead of her, though she felt she should know this one. A second flash just as she heard the rumble of thunder showed that he was gone. Wanda hexed a branch lying on the ground near by to come to her, and catching it caused the leaves on the end to burst into flame.

"Kurt?" she asked the air. "Kurt, is that you?"

The fire on the end of her makeshift torch was suddenly blown out, leaving her with a smouldering stick. The smoke rising from it was lit with a romantic if spooky glow. "Perhaps ja," whispered an accented voice by her left ear, "perhaps nein," by her right.

"Which is it, yes, or no?" she asked angrily, turning around and casting a hex bolt onto… nothing.

"Sometimes I am;" replied the voice, now behind her again, "But tonight, I am Michael."

"What's the difference?" asked Wanda, a smirk rising to her face. This was a distinction of the Nightcrawler she wasn't aware of.

'Michael' laughed darkly, and Wanda became aware of a more physical presence behind her, which worried her slightly.

"What are you doing?" she asked nervously, "and why are you following me?"

"Because I want to," replied Nightcrawler, and Wanda's first question was answered as a pair of arms was wrapped around her waist at the same time as he snaked his tail around one of her legs.

"Just why do you 'want to?'" continued Wanda, her voice becoming shaky.

Michael rested his head upon the girl's shoulder, and looked sidelong and up at her, although she didn't know it by sight of his iris-free eyes. "I think you know ze answer to zat qvestion already," he confirmed, the twitching of his tail sending small vibrations up her leg. "but vhat you don't know yet, is zat you'll like it."

Wanda narrowed her eyes at this. "That's not for you to decide," she snarled, and rammed her elbow into his side, throwing him off her, spinning around to hex him….

It was the first time she'd noticed the sulphurous aportation so far, but that wasn't anywhere near as surprising as Nightcrawler somehow turning around mid-port so that when he reappeared a split second later, again behind the teen-aged girl, he was able to immediately reach around her again, this time restraining her arms. A flick of his tail and they were bound at the wrists. "Now, now, be good," he hissed, "or I'll take you somevhere not nice."

"This is not nice," Wanda growled, fidgeting with her hands though unable to loosen Michael's grasp any. Deciding the exercise futile, she stopped struggling, and he actually let his grip slack so that there was blood flowing through them again. "Where were you planning on taking me otherwise?"

"Uttervise? Zat depends — Vhere do you vant to go with me?" Michael asked, now letting the subject of his attention's hands free.

"The only place I'm going with you is Hell!" Wanda yelled, moving to hurt her assailant's soft abdomen again.

She was too slow for the agile circus expatriate however, and she soon found her hands again bound, this time behind her back. Michael twisted her around in his arms, and then pulled her in so that their bodies were pressed together, his lips next to her ear. "Hell, you say?" He laughed darkly, before brushing his cheek back against hers, his tail twitching free of its grasp around her hands, and kissing her on the lips. He pulled back, and holding her shoulders in his hands, looked into Wanda's wide open eyes. "Zat can be arranged. Vell, something like it, anyvay. You may have to hold your breath, z'ough." His features betrayed a mischievous grin.

Wanda whimpered and tried to pull away, but realised that she was held tight by Nightcrawler's tail, wrapped around her waist and snaking its way up her back. Michael stroked her face with its spade as he moved in again for a longer kiss, and she felt the unfamiliar sensation that seemed like she was collapsing in on herself until she was so small as to be insignificant.

When he pulled away again, the sky was yellow. Wanda gasped as she saw the pools of magma, cringed at the sight of dragon creatures without wings, and was awed by the towers of rock laced with brimstone. The smell of sulphur was intoxicating, and she could only just breath. Her eyes were still widened in fright of Nightcrawler's alternative identity, but now she made no move to escape from him; Despite the fact that his hands and tail were now on the inside of her clothing, probing her in places that no man should go without a woman's consent, Michael seemed to her to be the least dangerous thing here. Quivering, she lay her head on his shoulder, and closed her eyes as he began kissing her neck. "Take me back," she whimpered. Kurt nodded, and continued his assault upon her neck and private places as they left the place with a bamf.


When Pietro finally gave up and risked his life by breaking into his sister's room, he found her covered by nothing more than a single sweat-drenched sheet, staring up at the ceiling. Her heavy breathing was the only thing providing the silver-haired speedster with the comfort that Wanda was still alive — An expression of horror graced her eyes, but the rest of her was smiling; Michael had made better than good on his word. He had taken her to a very personal hell, and while there she had experienced greater pleasure than she could ever have imagined. She never wanted it to happen again, and yet couldn't wait for the Nightcrawler to come back.

She hadn't been the only one, either. At the Xavier Institute mansion, while everyone else was left wondering why she and Kitty hadn't turned up to Logan's early morning Danger room session, Rogue was burdened with the task of trying to get some kind of response out of her former roommate who had failed to phase into the southerner's room two hours earlier and shake her to consciousness. She had found the girl shivering, naked on the floor despite the cold, staring out the open window, her face radiant with excitement. The sparkle in her eye hadn't faded, and she had merely giggled when Rogue yelled at her. Now the window was shut, and Rogue had retrieved Kitty's blankets from where they were thrown on the floor and lain them over the girl's body, but still she just stared off into the distance, smiling her little smile that send any of a certain type of boy mad. Giving up after a half hour of zero response, she removed a glove and placed her uncovered hand on Kitty's forehead.

"Oh my god…."


Now that you're done marvelling, excuse the pun, at how I encapsulated my disclaimer in an expression of my disdain for disclaimers – Okay, I'll give you another thirty seconds if you didn't notice it already – you can review, provided you avoid the subject of how the first section of this chapter was completely disjoint from the second section. If you can, hit me with some ideas of what to do with Kitty — I pretty much know what I'm going to do with Wanda, but the Kitty thing was a plot device to get the others to have a clue as to what's going on. So, should I, like, make Kitty have an abortion, give someone a half-sibling, have her go insane and kill everyone, or just make her commit suicide, but like, fail miserably in the attempt, thereby confining herself to an air-chair for the rest of days?

It's 4:30am. The only part that I've proofread properly is the A/N section. Deal with it.
I will be updating my other stories soon enough (As in, immediately after the most recent plot details work themselves out).