Disclaimer: X-Men: Evolution belongs to Marvel, and I am not making any money from this page.

Rating: T, for mentions of violence and consumption of alcohol.

A/N: Just a short friendship/sibling piece between Kurt and Rogue.


The faint sounds of piano music drifted through the first story of the mansion, and Kurt found himself drawn the lonely melody, which almost seemed to reflect his melancholy thoughts. Puzzled, he frowned. He had thought that he was the only one still at home; all of the other residents of the X-Mansion were out at the moment. Curious, he abandoned the television to find the identity of the mysterious musician.

After teleporting through the halls over to the foyer, Kurt paused at the polished wood door. Perhaps whoever it was valued their privacy and did not wish to be disturbed? A moment's thought reminded him that the mansion was home to him as much as anyone else, and he decided that he would depart if the person asked him to do so.

Cautiously, he twisted the doorknob, and pushed the door open just a crack, but only that allowed him to see enough to teleport. Unwilling to hesitate any longer, Kurt did just that, and found himself in the foyer.

The room had a rectangular structure, with the carved oak door at one end and a wall composed entirely of windows that stretched from a foot above the floor to a foot below the ceiling at the other. At the moment, sunlight poured into the room through the windows, reflecting on the shiny, black and white-checked marble floor. Despite the natural illumination, an elaborate glass chandelier glittered from the ceiling.

Other than the black grand piano and its bench that stood by one side of the room, and the white sofa that sat against the opposite wall, the room was basically bare. A few of Ororo's ferns rested in colorful pots along the corners, but that was all.

Except for the teenage girl who sat playing the piano, her fingers gradually slowing upon the keys as the song came to a close.

Recognizing his sister, Kurt walked further into the room, observing Rogue as she finished with the piece. Per usual, she wore clothing of goth style: black jeans, black combat boots with numerous silver buckles, a ruched, blood red shirt with black, lace sleeves that only reached her elbows, and a choker of black ribbon. The characteristic white streaks in her rich, auburn hair were gone for the moment; Rogue had pragmatically decided to not to dye her hair in preparation for a visit with her parents to celebrate her sixteenth birthday, and had not taken the time to recolor her hair again upon her return. Her hairstyle of a loose knot at the back of her head made the lack of artificial coloring evident.

Noticeably, her gloves were also absent, made especially obvious from the metallic silver polish that glinted upon her nails as she played the keys.

The song ended, and as it did, Kurt strode over the sofa and sat down.

"Beautiful music," he commented briefly.

"Thank you," Rogue replied casually. "Is that what brought you in here?"

"Ja," Kurt confirmed. "Why are you not out with the others?"

"I missed curfew last night," Rogue said with a shrug. "Logan noticed and told me that I had to stay here today while everyone else has fun in town."

"So when you miss curfew, Dr. McCoy gives you a six hour detention of menial labor, but Logan only grounds you for a day," Kurt said in wonder. "I wouldn't have expected that."

"You'd think that it would be the reverse," Rogue agreed in an amused tone, her fingers tapping the keys in a short, happy tune.

A comfortable silence descended between the pair as Kurt gazed out the window and Rogue resumed playing the piano; this time, the song was cheerier.

For several moments, Kurt allowed the silence to continue as his mind worked to formulate a question without accidentally offending Rogue. He grimaced as he realized that there was no certain path to take with the subject he wished to discuss, and concluded that it was best to just put the topic out into the open.

"Do you like yourself better now that you can control you powers?"

Instantly, Kurt regretted asking this, because Rogue's fingers paused above the piano keys, and she turned slightly on the bench to give him her full attention.

"Not as much as I thought I would," she replied flatly. "For a long time after my abilities surfaced, I wanted so much to change or reverse it somehow. I felt so lonely and isolated from everyone else. To be honest, I think that the experience made me a stronger person, but being able to touch people now doesn't automatically solve all my problems."

"What do you mean by that?" Kurt asked curiously.

Rogue grimaced. "I never thought that I would say this, but it almost annoys me how freely people touch me now. It's difficult to believe I wanted this so desperately, because now it just irritates me how little my personal space is respected. I mean, a hug from Kitty, or an 'encouraging' pat on the shoulder from Jean is nice and all, but it surprises me how much that I wish that people would just leave me alone."

"Oh." Kurt looked away.

"I don't mean that I want you to leave me alone," Rogue elaborated. "I just . . . it's like I don't even know what I want anymore. But although control over my mutation makes my life easier, it certainly doesn't make me a better person. There are some things that I've done to other people with powers that are inexcusable. I know that all too well. It's strange, but at this point . . . I almost feel indifferent towards this new control."

"'Indifferent'?" Kurt echoed. "How can you feel 'indifferent' to this?"

"I don't know," Rogue said with a shrug. "But it was easier when my abilities were unconscious. I never had control, so I never had to make the decision to hurt anyone. But now that I do have control, I have to make a choice."

Kurt pondered her statement for a moment. "But that doesn't make sense. You would consciously make the decision to hurt someone by taking off your gloves and touching them with your bare hands."

"It's difficult to explain," Rogue said, in a tone that indicated the topic was no longer up for discussion.

This entire conversation felt slightly off to Kurt. He had always thought that Rogue was a little bit strange, but he had accounted that to her lack of physical contact with anyone. But now her personality seemed unchanged. Knowing that Rogue held an aversion to discussing topics such as feelings, which she considered 'superfluous,' Kurt knew he should let the issue go, but his curiosity refused to do so.

"Please," he said softly. "Tell me."

Rogue considered him with her eyes for a moment, and emotion flickered across her face. "When I utilized my abilities previously, I knew it was a necessary evil. I never had to feel guilty when I touched someone else's skin, because though it was my responsibility, it was not a force that could be controlled. And now that I have a handle on my absorbance, I'll have to be more careful about using my abilities. I'll need to be careful before draining someone, because now I can be held fully accountable for my actions."

There was a silence for several minutes.

Sighing, Kurt looked his sister in the eye. "I'm sorry, Rogue. I don't mean to irritate you. I guess in a way I feel . . . jealous of you."

"'Jealous,'" Rogue repeated with an arched eyebrow.

"Yes," Kurt replied uncomfortably. "When we discovered that we were siblings, I was very happy, because we understood each other. We both had parts of our mutations that we could not control. But now . . ." Kurt looked away. "Now that you can control your abilities, we no longer have that bond we once shared."

Rogue looked at him for a few minutes with an unfathomable expression. Kurt had no idea what she was thinking, and he tensely awaited her response.

"It doesn't matter to me," she said at last.

"What doesn't matter to you?" Kurt questioned, puzzled.

"That you're fuzzy and blue," Rogue replied matter-of-factly. "I love you for the person you are, Kurt, not because of what you look like. Normal or abnormal, blue-furred or brunette, I love you no matter what. You loved me even though I couldn't touch other people, right?"

"Zweifellos," Kurt replied earnestly.

"So of course I'll still care about you," Rogue said calmly. "I was raised to take pride in myself and my actions, and I'm not going to allow control over my abilities to change who I am."

"Not even ein hübscher Junge?" Kurt teased.

Rogue smirked. "Certainly not that. Let's face it, Kurt, my number one will always be me."

Kurt rolled his eyes playfully before teleporting to the piano and sitting beside Rogue on the bench. He knew that his aloof younger sister's admittance that she cared for him was her own way of saying that she wanted the two of them to remain close, no matter what.

"So," Kurt said, absentmindedly tapping the piano keys, "know any Deutsch drinking songs?"

"Only the ones you've learned," Rogue replied amusedly.

"Well," Kurt said brightly, "I've learned a few more. Want to hear?"

A genuine smile formed on Rogue's pretty but usually cold features, and she looked disarmingly carefree and normal, a stark contrast to her customarily cool and standoffish manner. "Most definitely."

The sunlight streamed into the room, falling upon Kurt and Rogue as they practiced drinking songs and composed their own, which were nonsensical ditties that were devised only for humor purposes. When the other occupants of the mansion arrived home, they heard disjointed, random pieces of piano music and the laughter of brother and sister.


A/N: Rogue seems a bit OOC here, but I depict her as an outwardly unemotional person who never lets her true feelings show. I see her as generally uncomfortable with allowing other people to become close to her.

"Zweifellos" is German for "Certainly" or "Without a doubt".

"Ein hubscher Junge" means "A handsome/good-looking boy."

Rogue's detention with Dr. McCoy that Kurt refers to is a reference to two of my other stories, "Observations of an Oddity" and "Detention Disclosures".

Let me know what you thought. Concrit is always appreciated.