Every Breath You Take

Author’s Note/Disclaimer: I’ll be going down some very dark paths in this fic. I love Kurt. And we always hurt the ones we love. Don’t we? “Every Breath You Take” is a song by the Police from the eighties. I used to love the song. More than a decade later I listen to the lyrics and realize just how creepy they are. I think it’s perfect for this story.

BTW: This Kurt Wagner is the Nightcrawler from XMen Evolution and hasn’t had quite the rough life his comic book couterpart had. At least up until now.

Thanks to tkd for the review. In response, I’ve done a little tweaking of Kurt’s character.

05/24/2007 – I just found a major error on my part that had made all the character’s internal thoughts invisible when posted online. I usually refrain from pulling up my own stories so as not to inflate the hit counter, but apparently I need to proofread online.

{This means character’s internal thoughts.}
**This means projected thoughts, as in telepathy.**

Chapter 1: Every Breath You Take

Something was very, very wrong. His head was pounding and his limbs would not obey him. Someone was speaking. Someone he couldn’t see.

“Here’s the new Beta. Weird looking thing ain’t it.” A man’s voice, nearby.

“’It’ is a man. Put him in the cell.” A woman’s voice farther away and annoyed.

“Uppity bitch. Alpha’s still a mutie. Shoulda put a collar on that one too.” The world seemed to be moving. Nauseating.

“Shut up, you idiot. She can hear you.” A second man’s voice almost in his ear.

“Shut up both of you and get out. Can’t you see he’s waking up?” The woman’s voice was closer now.

“Yes ma’am.” A final jostle that sent pain spinning through his skull. He groaned.

“Hello there pet.” Something touching his forehead, a hand, cool through his fur, smoothing back his hair.

“Wo bin ich? Ich kann nicht sehen. Warum nicht kann ich sehen?”(1) His voice cracked and he fought the rising panic.

“Shh...Relax.” He felt something tugging and pulling at the fur and skin around his eyes. Tape. They had taped his eyes shut! He blinked in the sudden blinding glare. He tried to turn his head and found the movement restricted. By something hard, confining. A collar?

“That better?” The hand continued to stroke his hair soothingly while his eyes began to focus. Now he could see her. She was olive-skinned with shoulder-length auburn hair, brown eyes so dark they seemed black. Her nose was too prominent to be called pretty but she had a full, generous mouth. She was wearing a lab coat over a blue blouse and cream colored skirt. She watched his face intently.

“Ja.”

“Good.” His arms and legs still would not move. He slowly realized he was bound to the surface beneath him. Now that he could see, he tried to ‘port. Nothing happened. He tried again. Nothing!

“Was ist dieses?” The foggy hungover feeling was beginning to fade and was replaced with uneasiness.

“In English please.” The woman began running her hands over his arms and legs as if looking for injuries. Her touch was familiar, almost caressing.

“What is this? Where am I?”

“This is a special training facility. For mutants. The collar around your neck suppresses your ability to teleport.” Her hands began to explore his torso, her expression was impossible to read. He struggled against the leather restraints. The table beneath him creaked and groaned but his bonds held fast. His tail slithered about angrily, but could find no useful hold.

“Shh…” The woman moved to soothe him again. “Do you hurt anywhere?”

He growled in response and his tail managed to curl around her wrist.

“Do you hurt anywhere?” The woman repeated, paying no attention to his wandering tail.

“Release me.” Kurt tightened the grip of his tail and pulled the woman toward him. Or tried to, rather. His body was suddenly on fire with pain radiating from his tail and the points on his body where the woman touched him. He heard himself screaming. The pain stopped as suddenly as it had begun.

“Shh…” The woman soothed him again and he lay panting. What had she done to him? When his breathing slowed, she spoke again.

“Do you hurt anywhere?” He licked his lips, dry now.

“No. Not now.”

“Good.” She patted him on one arm and pulled up a chair. Calmer now, he looked around. He found himself tightly strapped to some sort of table or cot inside a cell under a harsh light. Outside the cell, the room was dimly lit, but he could make out the outlines of a desk, a couch, and another cot. The woman sat next to him and rested a hand on his thigh.

“Now. You will listen to me.” She waited until he nodded.

“This is a special training facility for mutants. I am your trainer. You will call me ‘Trainer’ or ‘ma’am.’ Do you understand?” He could feel a subtle tingle radiating from her hand.

“Ja. I understand.”

“Good.” The woman smiled and patted his thigh.

“Your official designation here is Beta 6. Remember that.” The woman looked at him steadily as he nodded. “Now, I may call you ‘pet’ if I am pleased with you.” She smiled at him as if offering him a gift.

“My name is…”

“Not important. Not here.” The woman’s voice hardened and the tingle returned. Kurt swallowed convulsively. “One day I may ask you. But not today.”

“How did I get here? I can’t remember.”

“I don’t know. I know there was some sort of … mission. Beta 5 was lost. You were brought here, to me.” The woman looked away from him and closed her eyes for a moment. “I am the Trainer. And a mutant. Mutants never outlive their usefulness here. Remember that as well.” She looked again at him, her eyes meeting his.

“Trainer? What are you supposed to train me to do?”

“To obey.”

“What did you do to me?”

“This.” The woman held her hand before his eyes and it began to glow. She spread her fingers and sparks danced between them. She slowly lowered her hand to his chest and began to stroke him. The sparks danced across his fur and the sensation was…indescribable. His body began to respond to the erotic sensation. “It can be very painful, or very pleasant. Pleasure or pain, it all depends on you.”

“My friends…my teammates. They will come for me.”

“Hmm…” The woman continued to explore his body, her hands trailing warmth, tingling, intoxicating.

“They will.” He tried to shrink from her touch, to think of something else, anything else.

“When?” He fumbled with the question. When? What did she mean?

“When will they come?” She seemed unconcerned as her hands smoothed the fur of his arms, his legs, across his chest again.

“I don’t know. But they will. I’m sure.”

“You’ve been in our infirmary for two weeks, pet. Wouldn’t they have come by now?” Her hands stopped and she met his gaze and held it.

“Two weeks. No. That can’t be. You lie!” His tail slapped the table angrily as he denied it. Impossible. Two weeks! He looked around again, as if hoping to find some proof of the lie.

“Look at me.” She grasped his face in both hands and held his gaze again. “I will not lie to you. “Ever.”

The woman began her hypnotic stroking again. This time her hands traveled down his belly until they rested just above the waistband of his boxers. They had at least left him that bit of dignity.

“Hmm…just a moment.” She gave him another of those friendly pats on the thigh as she left the cell to fetch something from the top drawer of the desk. She returned and held up a pair of bandage scissors, smiling brightly.

“Für was sind die?”(2)

“Shh…Relax. And don’t move. I wouldn’t want to snip anything important.” He hissed as he felt the cool metal slide beneath the hem of his shorts. She hummed quietly as she carefully cut them first up one side, then the other. Then she turned and left with the scissors, replacing them in the drawer before returning to his side.

“No. Don’t.” He squirmed in shame as she reached for the remains of his boxers. His tail whipped dangerously close to her face and she held up a warning finger.

“Don’t be shy, pet.” She began to tug the cloth downwards, sliding it carefully down the length of his tail, revealing his genitals. Then she rested her hands on his hips and looked at him again, studying the look of panic on his face.

“Why so afraid?”

“Nein. Nein. Dieses ist nicht recht.”(3)

“I won’t hurt you if you behave yourself. You may even enjoy it.” Her tone was soothing and that delicious sensation was radiating in waves between her hands.

“Ich bin unberührt. Nein.”(4) The woman cocked her head and furrowed her brow.

“I have only been studying German for the two weeks you have been here. Perhaps I am misunderstanding you.” The woman’s hands remained still and the sensations coming from them faded slightly.

“I am untouched. This..this is not right.”

“You are a virgin?” The woman’s voice was incredulous. “How old are you?”

“Nine…nineteen. I... to look like me. It does not happen.” His command of English had become slippery.

The woman was silent for a long time. The energy from her hands died. She muttered angrily to herself as she paced away from him, turning her back as she leaned her forehead against the bars of his cell.

The sound of her cursing grew louder and she seemed to glow. The glow grew in intensity until it arced from her body to the bars of the cell, then began to arc between the bars. Bits of energy began to spit from the metal almost as if seeking something. He lay helplessly bound to the table and was terrified as the sparks grew closer and closer. His terror was so complete that her words held no meaning, only anger. He had never been so powerless or so alone.

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{They sent me a child! A child! He does not belong here!}

She felt the rage growing, her power uncoiling within her until she could see nothing but its fiery glow.

{I recognize him. He’s one of the XMen! A hero. Not some criminal!}

Slowly, the frantic cries of the boy behind her began to seep into her conciousness.

{Dear God! What am I doing?}

Suddenly realizing the danger, she willed the glow to fade, the energy to retreat. The fur on the boys face was matted with tears and there was blood on the sheet beneath him where he had struggled against his bonds.

“I am not angry with you.” She smoothed back his hair, touched his face, but he turned from her, eyes closed.

“Shh…No more sparks tonight. I promise.” She covered him with a light blanket and left him there, locking the cage behind her.

{So much power! How could I become so charged with such a short exposure?}

She lay down on the couch, letting its bulk shield her from the boy’s eyes.

Had she revealed too much? Had the inevitable sensors picked up the level of discharge, or had the discharge burned them out? She’d tried hard to cultivate the idea that her gift was detrimental to electronics. They knew what she could do, but not how she did it. It was a small victory, but it was all she had.

She was just as much a prisoner as the boy was. She’d not left the compound in over a year, hadn’t felt the sun on her face for three months. If they realized that all they had to do to disarm her was to deprive her of physical contact, her captivity would be unbearable.

{I can’t save him. I can’t even save myself. Dammit!}

The loss of Beta Five was still raw. She’d lost her detachment with him. He hadn’t really belonged here either. He was just a petty con man, using his pyrokinetic gift to set fires for his clients. Insurance fraud, never any fatalities. Not even an injury to anyone except himself. And they’d turned him into a killer.

{I turned him into a killer.}

The loneliness and the hunger for contact that her gift brought had caused the lines of Trainer and Subject to blur.

{It would be suicide.}

She threw an arm over her eyes as if she could block out the whole situation.

{I’ll never get out of here alive.}

Cold truth.

She rose from the couch and reached for the phone on the desk.

“I need to speak with the Commander.”

“He is not available.”

“It’s regarding Beta 6. I cannot proceed further without speaking to him.”

“I will inform him.” *click*

She lay down on her cot. The Commander would contact her when in suited him. Soon she was asleep.

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“Alpha Nine. Come with us.” She squinted in the bright light. He’d sent three armed guards. They waited patiently as she rose and slipped on her shoes. Then they led her through the maze of corridors to the Commander’s office. She’d been here only once before, when he’d first assigned her to the project. The guards filed in behind her.

{This doesn’t look good.}

“Well, what is the problem with Beta 6?” The man looked up impatiently from his desk. He wore a military style uniform, but wore nothing that indicated rank.

“He doesn’t belong here. He’s hardly more than a child.” The man scowled at her. “Sir.”

“He looks old enough to me.”

“He’s not a suitable candidate. He doesn’t fit the profile.”

“Really?” The man rose from his desk and stood in front of it, resting his weight on the edge.

“He’s…he’s not a criminal sir. I recognize him. He’s an XMan. A hero.”

He stood up and loomed over her.

“You forget yourself, Alpha 9. He’s a mutant.”

“His teammates will come for him. I think it’s a mistake to…” She never saw the blow coming. Suddenly she was on the floor, dazed, her face a mass of pain.

“Let them come. If they do, we’ll add them to our stable. I have indulged you until now because you get results. We’ve lost Beta 5 because he failed to follow orders. He turned on his handler and had to be put down.”

“No.” She cradled her face as she tried to deny it.

“The boys in the Lab think they can do better. Beta 6’s abilities are too valuable to waste. If you won’t train him, I will turn you both over to the Lab. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Take her back to her quarters.”


Translations from Babelfish: (I don’t speak German.)

(1) “Where am I? I cannot see. Why can’t I see?”
(2) “What are those for?”
(3) “No. No. This is not right.”
(4) “I am untouched. No.”