A/N 2009: Ok, this one-shot was written in late 2004 or something - so about 5 years ago. I think I wrote it during the first or second season of X-Men:Evolution when it first came out and I was totally into the cartoon. I remember loving Kurt Wagner's character, especially how he and Kitty seemed to be paired together by the show's AU canon. I stopped watching the show for whatever reason, probably time constraints, and it wasn't until I checked back later that I discovered they had paired Kitty and Lance, and found a different character for Kurt to romance. Which is fine, but I always thought that Kitty and Kurt were cute. This was written before the character Amanda was brought in, so was still vaguely canon (I'm a stickler for that stuff usually). I never posted this because, honestly, I never really posted anything I wrote - I still don't. I never really quite had the courage for it. But, I've been getting back into writing a bit and this was one of the few old pieces I wrote that was actually a "complete" one-shot that I was fairly happy with. Since it's years later, I don't feel so embarassed about putting it up - I can blame my adolescence. So, please excuse the jeuvenile writing style, and the 5 year late upload - but here it is!


Disclaimer: I only own my cat. And while he is fuzzy like Kurt, he is not Kurt. *sob* So, thus, I own nothing of great importance.

O joy, now on with the story.

Bitte, ich bin traurig – Please, I'm sorry

Ich liebe dich, Kätzchen – I love you, Kitty



Some Things Were Never Meant to Change

You realize that some things were never meant to change

You realize that sometimes you're just not ok

And it's all inside now

You need to understand

There's nothing strange about this

You need to know your friends

You need to know that

I'll be waving my hand

Watching you drown

Watching you scream

Quiet or loud

And maybe you should sleep

And maybe you just need a friend

As clumsy as you've been

There's no one laughing

You will be safe in here…

From "Clumsy"

by Our Lady Peace

It was Sunday and the Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters in Westchester, New York was quiet, many of the students out enjoying their weekend in town or working intently on their schoolwork in their rooms or the library. The mansion's large kitchen especially was enveloped in a muted silence that penetrated the granite counter tops and mahogany cabinets. Suddenly, there was a loud, slightly explosive sound as air was displaced and a blue, furred form with tridactyl appendages and bright yellow eyes appeared in the mansion's kitchen in a cloud of blue sulfurous smoke. Kurt glanced around the kitchen cautiously before turning and wasted no time digging into the fridge with a wicked grin. After a bit of scrounging around he finally found some leftovers he was sure no one else would want: an extra hot dog left over from Sunday when they had had a barbecue by the mansion's pool. That was a week ago. Kurt chuckled to himself. He always got the last bit of food because his stomach of steel seemed to be invincible when set against aging leftovers – he could eat anything. He was just glad he had found the hot dog, because last time he had wanted an afternoon snack, he had accidentally taken some pizza that Logan had been saving. Wolverine had nearly ripped his head off for that one.

Kurt put the hot dog on a plate and put it in the microwave, pressing '1 minute'. He knew he should be getting back to his homework, but he just couldn't bring himself to.
"Vat a vaste of a perfectly good Sunday; I hate French" he mumbled to himself and sighed. He already had two languages in his head. Learning the finer points of English was hard enough! Did he really need to know French? NO! Kurt sighed and scowled without any real venom: if he wanted to get a passing grade in the class, he would have to do his homework. Oh how he suffered the injustice of it all! The microwave dinged. Kurt made a dash for it and swung the door open, grabbing the hotdog. He immediately began to toss it from hand to hand in pain.

"Oh, hot, hot, hot!" he cried softly. And, having the normal intelligence of a teenage male, he stuffed the hotdog in to his mouth to give his hands a break. He, of course, began to tear and cried out behind the offending food item.

"Ougfh!" He began breathing in and out around the hotdog, trying to get it to cool down. He gingerly brought his burnt hand up and took the hotdog out of his mouth. He stuck out his tongue to cool it off, then stuffed the hotdog back in his mouth and took a huge bite. He walked out of the kitchen, munching happily and stopped to think. He decided that it was much too hard to 'port and eat at the same time, so he would take the conventional way up to his room. As he walked, he noticed a burning sensation in his hands. He looked down at them and winced. Ach, he thought, scheisse, I've burnt mein stupid hands. How lame do I get? Memory suddenly rushed through his mind. Fire running up his legs, the unbearable, searing pain of fire taking him away. The sound of cheering, the crowd screaming at him, jeering taunts. "Demon!" "Freak!" "Monster!" "Baby killer!" "Burn you devil spawn!" "Die demon!"

"Nein," he said to himself softly, bringing his hands up to the sides of his head, nearly dropping his hotdog. He had been trying so hard to forget all that. It was in the past, he could let it go. But for some reason, his mind wouldn't let him. It kept bringing that memory up – in dreams, during school, while watching a movie…now. He couldn't take it anymore!

Nein! He cried in his mind, pushing the memories back. He straightened and set his jaw in determination. He would never let his past take hold of him. Not here, not where people accepted him, where people liked him. Where no one was afraid of his appearance. They didn't care that he looked like a demon.

Kurt took an angry bite out of his hotdog as he continued walking toward his room. He was passing the Entrance Hall when a terrified, high-pitched scream split the air. Kurt nearly jumped out of his skin. He spun around, searching for the source of the scream. There, standing in the middle of the Entrance Hall was a little girl, pointing in his direction accusingly, her young face frozen in fear. She couldn't have been more than five or six years old. She was innocent, he sighed.

"Professor Monroe, Professor Monroe!"

"What is it Charlie? What's wrong? Are you hurt?" Ororo was at the little girl's side immediately with worried eyes. The little girl was trembling.

"A monster! A monster, look!"

"A monster?" Ororo looked to where Charlie was pointing and her face immediately lightened. "That's not a monster, little one, that's just Kurt. Kurt Wager. He's a student here, he's our friend." From where he was standing, Kurt smiled. Charlie cringed in fear when she saw his fangs. His smile faltered.

"It's scary." Kurt's face fell. She couldn't even call him a "he", he was an "it" to the new little mutant. Ororo kept her voice soothing for the child as she tried to calm her.

"Oh, darling, he only looks scary, he's really…" she trailed off in horror, realizing too late what she had just said. Her head shot up to look at Kurt. The pained, sorrowful look on his face cut her heart into a thousand pieces.

Kurt stood there in shock. Had Storm just said that? Kind, gentle, sensitive Storm? He wobbled and took a hesitant step back. So it was true. It was the same no matter where he went, even his friends were afraid of him in his natural form. Kurt's eyes fell to the floor. And he thought he would be able to run from his past; he would never be able to escape.


"Kurt! Wait…"


Ororo stared numbly at the spot where Kurt had stood only moments before. Her gaze dropped to the forgotten half-eaten hotdog on the floor. She felt Charlie come up beside her.

"You made the scary thing go away." She said happily.

"Yes, yes I did." Ororo replied sadly. Professor! she cried out mentally, I believe we may have a problem.


Kitty stood outside Kurt's door uncertainly. Should she knock or just phase in? The professor had only told her that Kurt needed her right now. 'Maybe now more than ever.' He hadn't told her exactly what happened; just that he would most likely be emotionally fragile. Kitty had noticed that Kurt had been sort of on edge lately, but she hadn't had a clue why. She was so frustrated, this wasn't adding up! She knew Kurt would never tell her what was wrong if she just asked, he was much too guarded to do that. She would surprise him then. Kitty silently phased through his door, but she was the one who was surprised.

Kurt's room was practically stripped bare. The drawers of his dresser were open and emptied; his closet door was hanging open, showing that almost nothing remained inside. His desk drawers had been pulled out and now laid on the floor with different odds and ends taken out. His posers had been torn off the wall, she could see them rolled up and shoved behind the dresser. The floor around his bookcase was a mess, littered with books that had fallen of the shelves when he had hastily pulled certain books from their places. On his bed, which she had made sure he had neatly made that morning, sat two large duffle bags. One was already full and zipped, the other was open and she could see Kurt's hands shoot up from where he was sitting on the other side of the bed every few minutes and stuff something into the duffle. Kitty didn't know how long she stood there. Fear began to poke at her heart, then clutched it fiercely. She stared in horror at the duffle bags on the bed. Kurt was… leaving. She could barely choke out her words.

"Kurt! What are you doing?!" she cried. Kurt leapt up from where he had been crouching and his head snapped in her direction, pale yellow eyes flashing.


"Wh.. Where are you going?" She stammered, trying to remain calm. She couldn't screw this up. Kurt's eyes lowered to his bed. He shrugged.


"What do you mean, 'away'? Why?" Don't go Kurt, don't leave me! she thought fiercely.

"Listen, Keety, I'm really sorry, but I have to." He wouldn't meet her eyes as he pushed a book into his bag and zipped it up.

"No." Kitty pleaded, "No, you don't have to. Please Kurt, please don't go!" Kitty couldn't help it, she was starting to cry. She didn't know what had brought all this on, but at that moment it didn't matter. In that moment she knew he was serious. And in that moment, the thought of Kurt leaving forever was suddenly unbearable. She couldn't, she wouldn't let him leave.

"Kätzchen… oh Kätzchen, please don't cry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry. Bitte, ich bin traurig." He said softly. Just one more person I've made miserable, he thought to himself bitterly. They really are better off without me. Then they can forget me and move on with their lives without me getting in their way all the time.

Kurt shook his head and picked up his bags in two three-fingered hands.

"It's better zis vay, Kätzchen, you'll see."

"Why?" she choked out through broken sobs.

"Because…" Kurt hesitated. Was this even the right thing to do: just run away? Suddenly, a spark of anger flashed in his eyes. Not at the institute, not at Kitty or the Professor, or at anyone in the mansion – he was angry with himself. Of course he knew why he had to leave, "because I don't belong here, Kätzchen. Ja, I am a mutant like all of you, but I am also different – too different. Look at me, Keety! I'm a freak! I frighten people!" his voice balked with raw emotion. Kitty had never seen him this open about his emotions: these emotions. His voice continued shakily,

"I'm more trouble zan it's vorth. Zhe Professor doesn't need zis, he doesn't need me here." Kurt sighed; it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself.

"But I need you here, Kurt. I need you! You're not a freak! You're beautiful and wonderful and kind and… and Kurt." Kurt's heart suddenly lodged itself in his throat. How long had he been waiting for her to say that? How long had he been waiting for that look in her eyes? that catch in her voice? Kurt couldn't believe this was real, that this was actually happening. He had loved her for so long; was he suddenly going to blow this chance, when she finally loved him back?

"I don't know what happened out there, but no matter what anyone says, we love you Kurt. All of us, no matter what you look like. And we don't want you to leave. Please stay Kurt, for all of us – for me." Kitty had finally gotten her tears under control and now she was looking at Kurt intensely through honest and pleading eyes.

Kurt just stared at her. Nein, he was doing the right thing. It would be better this way. Right? Somehow, he wasn't so sure now. Ach, he was so confused! No, he had to leave! He didn't deserve to be here – he didn't deserve Kitty, he didn't deserve this room, this education, this acceptance, this love… he shook his head to clear it, his deep indigo hair falling into his golden eyes.

"Good bye, Kätzchen."

"Oh no you don't!" Kitty leapt across the room and fell onto Kurt, making him nearly fall backwards as one bag dropped from his hands. She wrapped her arms tightly around his chest, then she raised her head to look at him.

"If you teleport, you take me with you." She paused and looked into his startled, anguished eyes.


"Didn't you hear me, elf? We love you…" her breath caught for a moment, "I love you. I need you to stay. Please, Fuzzy, don't leave me. Not now, not when I just realized how much I care about you." Kitty couldn't look into those eyes anymore, and she let her head fall against his chest softly. She heard a soft "thump" as Kurt dropped his other bag from numb hands. She looked up slowly, afraid of what she would see. Had she blown it? She sighed, instead of anger, sadness, or the disgust she expected she saw something else in those wide, shocked, golden eyes: love. He loved her like she loved him… Kurt started trembling and wrapped his warm furred arms around her slim form, holding her tighter to his shivering body.

"Ich liebe dich, Kätzchen. I've always loved you." Kitty pressed her ear to his chest, listening to the rhythm of his heart beat, and closed her eyes.

"I know." She whispered softly.


A/N: Well, there it is. Let me know if you enjoyed it? Just a snippet of good-natured angst for our favorite fuzzball.