Stray Cat

Disclaimer: X-Men, New Mutants, etc.... Not mine. Kara and her nameless "Master"...mine. No money exchanged. If you want my firstborn...you might want to think twice. I call him "the Spawn."

Here we learn a little more about our stray and some of Kurt's deepest, darkest experiences. Non-consensual sex in the past tense. You were warned.

(If you think I'm crazy, blame it on the hormones...I'm preparing to unleash another "spawn" sometime in October.) Feedback good...

05/06/07 -- Minor editing to improve readability. (BTW -- Spawn #2 was a healthy baby boy.)


Chapter Two: Adoption


Kurt sighed as he surveyed his quarters. When he had first come here, they had seemed so large and empty after life in the circus, where he had often shared cramped quarters in the caravan. Now he puzzled over how he was to share it with his charge. She was much too fragile and unpredictable to leave alone in a room of her own, but now he was used to being alone. He let her wander, exploring the suite of rooms: a small living room, medium sized bedroom, and a large bathroom. When she ducked into the closet he waited patiently, recognizing her behavior as more typically feline than human. When she did not reappear after a moment he called her out, and she returned reluctantly. Even clad in a nondescript t-shirt and sweats, she seemed somehow…feral.

“Come Kara, you haven’t seen the best part.” Kurt led her from the bedroom back to the living room and opened the French doors leading onto his own personal balcony. Below was a beautiful view of ocean swells and birds kiting above the waves. He smiled as Kara closed her eyes and turned her face into the sun, breathing deeply of the fresh air, her expression was unguarded pleasure.

“I have something else to show you.” Curious, she followed him back to the bedroom. He opened a dresser drawer and removed a double handful of matte black fabric. “Try this on, Jean thought you would like it in black, if not, we have other colors. It’s a special fabric that should shift with you when you change.” He could see she was puzzled by the leotard-like garment. “You open it by running your fingers along the seams, then they seal the same way.” He took the garment from her and demonstrated the trick. Nodding she took it from him and began to strip before he could step from the room. The quick glimpse of her naked body reminded him of just how much she had recovered and how awkward sharing this suite would be. He shook his head. Maybe he could sleep on the couch. Sharing a bed like they had in the infirmary would be just too much temptation.

A tapping noise behind him drew his attention and he turned to see Kara in her new “cat suit” as Rogue had termed it. Reminding himself that the bodysuit was supposed to be skintight, Kurt surveyed her new look. The garment was cut much like a bathing suit, but clung more stubbornly to the girl’s curves than anything he’d seen at the beach. It was the same generic bodysuit they gave many of the female students here, but on her it looked…different. Clearing his mind, he tried to see her objectively. A head shorter than himself, she was petite, slender but not thin. Despite her recent ill health he could see the flow of healthy muscle beneath the skin. Dark hair, slightly wavy and almost black, fell below her shoulders. Her eyes were an odd green-gold and thickly lashed. Her face was oval, with well-defined cheekbones. Her skin was fair and already her scars had faded to near invisibility. Now he could see that the doctor’s estimate of nineteen or twenty was much closer to the mark than his original guess of fifteen or sixteen. This was no child. Her expression was solemn as she waited patiently for his verdict.

“Well…it certainly seems to fit. Have you tried shifting in it?” She shook her head. “Try it.” Immediately she dropped to all fours, body rippling so fast that the change was hard to follow. The large black cat stretched methodically before shifting, until once again the girl stood in front of him. She stretched experimentally in several directions before smiling shyly at him.

“There are some shoes and gloves to go with it, I almost forgot.” He returned to the drawer and pulled out a set of low, soft-soled boots and opera length gloves. Both boots and gloves were matte black like the bodysuit. “The gloves were Rogue’s idea. She has a fascination with them.” He explained. Kara tried them on and seemed pleased at their fit.

“The girls put together a few more things for you, these are regular street clothes.” He pulled out several packages from the drawer. “You can use this drawer or hang things up in the closet.” He lounged on the bed watching the girl pore through the small stack of clothing, slipping each outfit on over her bodysuit. There were only a handful of outfits, but it was unlikely the girl would be leaving the grounds in the near future. She settled on a comfortable pair of jeans and T-shirt before carefully stowing her new wardrobe in the dresser drawer he had offered her.

The rest of the morning was spent giving her a tour of the Institute’s public areas and some of the least trafficked routes to and from the kitchens and grounds. Several times Kurt stopped to be sure she was still with him, her tread behind him was almost soundless. Each time they encountered someone new to her, he was careful to place a reassuring hand on her arm to prevent her from bolting. He had chosen this time of morning for the tour when most of the students would be in class. It was clear that it would take some time before she was ready to move about on her own. When they returned to his rooms she was visibly relieved and he was quite worried as to how he was to play guardian and still fulfill his duties as an X-Man.

At a loss to as to what else to do with her, he decided to show her how to use his home theater and his collection of classic movies. Thankfully, she seemed quite used to the electronics and quickly curled up on one end of the sofa, happily channel surfing. Satisfied that she was occupied, he stepped out onto the balcony, to think.

-Mein Gott! What am I supposed to do with her? I cannot spend all my time here and she will soon be bored with nothing but old movies and cable to keep her busy. This is not right…she is too…face it Kurt. She is lovely and too easily taken advantage of – how long before you do something unforgivable! The others think me the best guardian for her…I am, perhaps the worst…-- He became lost in the memories he had tried so hard to forget. Things he had done, what he had been…

Young Kurt Wagner, aerialist extraordinaire, had leapt at the opportunity offered him. He had begged his foster mother, Margali to let him go. At fourteen, he thought he knew the world, thought himself ready to make a name for himself. They had promised him star billing, excellent pay, and private tutors. In the end, she reluctantly let him go, extracting promises to write frequently. In truth, she had little real say in the matter, as Kurt did not legally belong to her, or to anyone. In fact, in this age of identification and computer records, the boy simply did not exist in all the ways that truly counted in the world outside. His foster family thought it protected him, mutant that he was, but this time they were wrong.

In those days, he had not yet discovered the ability to teleport and had only begun to manifest his uncanny direction sense. He thought it was his renowned skill as an aerialist and acrobat that they wanted. When he discovered the truth, it was far too late. At first, there had been shows, followed by heaped praise, fat envelopes of cash, and much beer. Oftentimes he woke in the morning with no memory of the night before, feeling unaccountably sore and sick. His dreams were strange, full of writhing bodies, pain, and fear. He was confused, but said nothing of it in his letters to his family.

It was weeks before he discovered that his “tutor” was slipping something into his beer. When he confronted the man he found himself set on by his new “friends.” He discovered that their needles were more potent than their beer. He became the star attraction in their “private freak show.” At first they drugged him simply to make him pliant and allowed their “clients” to do what they wished with him. Unable to resist or even protest, he became a toy for anyone wealthy enough to pay for a “tame demon.” His days were now spent inside a locked room and his nights were an endless nightmare. When he was clear headed, he prayed fervently for rescue, prayed that Margali was searching for him.

Soon he became addicted to the drugs they gave him. The injections became more important than food, or water, or freedom itself. What they gave him, he was never able to find out. Whatever it was, it made a slave of him. He found himself begging for the shots, doing anything they asked. To punish him, they had only to withhold the shots and he would be wracked with cravings and pain as withdrawal set in. That was when the nature of their “private freak show” changed.

At night, his locked room was replaced by a large cage set upon a stage. Harsh lights blinded his drug-hazed vision. At first he was restrained within the cage, naked and shivering with fright. Patrons were allowed to poke and prod him, fondle him, and if they paid enough, to enter the cage and use him. Afterwards, his captors would torment him until he shook with rage and terror, until he was incapable of human thought. They would force a young woman, sometimes no older than himself, into the cage. Finally, they would release his restraints.

By now he had become the animal, the demon, the monster they wanted him to be. His drugged mind was filled with hate and rage. More often than not, their trick worked and he found himself attacking the offered prey, taking her forcibly, hearing her screams in his ears and the taunting shouts of his audience. Now, when he prayed, he prayed only for the release of death, but dared not hope even for that.

He did attempt several times to rebel against their “script.” His captors would then punish him and the girl he refused, beating them both nearly senseless. Then they would put her in his place in the cage, before dragging him away. He would spend days in his locked room, deprived of food, light, warmth, and most of all, the drugs that were his only source of comfort. He no longer prayed. He was in Hell and damnation was Eternal.

How long this continued, he never knew until it was over. His family told him that they had searched for him for nearly six months after they received the last of his letters. Calling the police had not been an option, for Margali had no legal ties to him and who knew what the authorities might do with him. Only when his captors had abandoned him -- half-starved, battered, traumatized, and too strung out to perform in any sense of the word -- did she finally find him. No dramatic rescue, no retribution for him, and no absolution for his sins. Just thrown away like so much garbage. He’d nearly died from withdrawal and it was months before he was able to resume his place as a performer. He would not speak of what happened to her or anyone until many years later. Only Logan knew any of it after he made a drunken confession in a moment of weakness. How much he had confessed he could not remember and would not ask his friend.

He was brought out of his reverie by a tentative touch on his arm. Kara stood beside him, studying his face, looking…concerned? Swallowing compulsively to wash the taste of bile from his mouth he tried to smile reassuringly. She looked unconvinced, but dropped her hand quickly, looking again out over the ocean view. He sighed. –Penance…this is my penance for the others-- Squinting at the angle of the sun, he knew it was lunchtime. “Are you hungry?” She nodded, again studying his face. “Come with me, they should be serving lunch in the dining hall.”

Kurt belatedly doubted the wisdom of exposing her to the chaos of the students’ communal meal, but it was too late. They stood on the threshold and he could feel her hand trembling in his as she took in the sight of dozens of high spirited teens laughing and chatting back and forth. Her expression was carefully blank. He’d begun to recognize it as the mask she wore to hide her feelings. He slipped his arm around her waist and guided her gently towards the more sedate adult’s table. Seating her between himself and Ororo, he hoped she would settle down. She responded with shy smiles to the greetings from the X-Men she knew and solemnly acknowledged the Professor’s more formal greeting. He made a point of introducing her to Kitty Pryde, as she had not yet encountered his good friend.

The Professor proposed a danger room session for the entire team later that afternoon. Kitty groaned and complained that she would never finish her homework. Kara’s eyes darted back and forth as she listened to the comfortable banter around her. She seemed to relax visibly and responded easily, if silently, to any question tossed in her direction.

--Kurt, I wish to speak with you and Kara before the Danger room session. -- The Professor spoke in his mind. Kurt glanced at the older man. –Perhaps I should come to your quarters after lunch? A casual visit?—
--Ja. She is very skittish. We will go back as soon as we are finished here.—

After lunch, they returned to his rooms and Nightcrawler changed into his uniform while Kara explored his small collection of CD’s. As was the custom in the Mansion, he left the hall door open to indicate he was home and visitors welcome. The Professor cleared his throat to get her attention. She started, but immediately stepped forward to meet him. “Hello Kara. May I come in?” The girl seemed uncertain, but moved aside to allow him to pass. Kurt entered the living room then and waved the girl towards the couch, shutting the door behind their visitor. The Professor directed his chair to a more conversational distance before speaking again.

“I’m sorry I haven’t taken the time to greet you properly since you arrived. Are you settling in well?” She nodded. “Are you comfortable with the arrangements we’ve made? If you would prefer a room to yourself, we have plenty of space.” She shook her head and looked anxiously at Kurt. –She is quite anxious at the idea of separation. -- Kurt, used to the Professor’s telepathic communications, gave no external sign he had heard.

“Very well. I felt I should make the offer. You do understand that you are a guest here, not a…prisoner?” She hesitated, then nodded slowly. –Hmm…She does not quite believe me.—

“Good. You are free to roam the grounds and common areas. Any restricted areas are posted clearly and you should respect those for your own safety. Outside, you should respect the perimeter markers inside the fence so that you do not trigger our automated defenses. I do not think any of our students would trouble you, but if you do have any problems, please let either Kurt, myself, or one of the other X-Men know. Do you have any questions?” She shook her head. –We will have to watch her carefully Kurt. She may not recognize a situation that should be reported.--

“I must go now and prepare the Danger Room. It is good to meet you, Kara.” He offered his hand to her and she took it gingerly. “Good afternoon, then.” Kurt opened the door for him as his chair propelled him into the hallway.

Kurt spent a short while just sitting and listening to music with her, letting her choose whatever she liked. When it was time to leave he suggested she explore the grounds, but instructed her to return before dinner. She looked thoughtful, but nodded agreement. Leaving her alone, he headed towards the danger room. He was looking forward to some simple, straightforward exercise.

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Kara was baffled by the Professor’s offer of freedom. She played with the novelty of the thought, batting it about in her mind for several minutes. A trick perhaps? Master used to trick her, test his control of her. No one here had punished her, at least not yet. More puzzling, no one had touched her either, not even her new Dakka. Dakka-Kurt did say she should explore. The quarters suddenly seemed small and constricting. Only hard-learned discipline drove her to carefully fold her “street clothes” and put them away so that she wore only the body suit, gloves and boots that would shift with her.

Moments later she perched atop the balcony railing judging the distance to ground below. She slipped over the side, shifting mid-fall to land on all fours and became a black shadow racing across the lawn toward the woods. Master never let her run free, save when he felt like “hunting.” Then there was always the fear of the dogs and the gun, fear that the tranks weren’t tranks, or that this time, the dogs would reach her too soon. Once she was satisfied there was no trick, no hunt, she reveled in the freedom. The sights and sounds of the small wood filled her senses. Squirrels, raccoons, other small furry things skittered about. She scented humans, but the scent was old and faint. She roamed back and forth until she found the perimeter markers and could hold the “shape” of the grounds in her mind.

Feeling braver, she shifted to her transitional form, the one Master had hated so much. Her shape was now roughly human, but sported a thick black pelt. Her ears were now pointed and high on her head, her eyes were cat-slitted. She flexed her hands and feet, extending and retracting her claws. Her long tail twitched with excitement. Daring, she swarmed up a large tree, gaining purchase with her claws. Using her vantage she checked for observers, and found none. Stilling her breathing, she listened carefully, but could hear only the small sounds of birds and animals in the brush. Now she slipped back down the tree, dropping to the ground. She ran now, simply for the joy of it. She circled just inside the wood, out of sight of any humans.

She ran and ran, a shadow slipping between tree trunks, over bushes. She ran until her sides ached and her breath caught in her throat. She ran until her body grew too hot, then she threw herself onto the cool ground to peer up through the canopy of leaves. She relaxed and released the cat-girl form, willing herself to be human once more. She lay there until her heart slowed and she could breathe deeply again.

The light was growing dim and she knew she must return to Dakka-Kurt. She again became a cat and loped back toward the mansion at a comfortable pace. She paused only when she reached the space below his balcony to gather herself for a mighty spring, changing again mid-air to her transitional form. She pulled herself up easily onto the second floor balcony and dropped quickly inside the railing, completing the transition to human one last time. Compulsively, she flexed her fingers, making sure the change was complete, the betraying claws gone.

Finding that she had returned first, she quickly cleaned up and changed back into her street clothes just in time to greet a tired Kurt. He moved heavily as he passed, mumbling about wanting a shower. She busied herself locating and laying out the same clothes he had worn that morning and then settled down to wait patiently on the couch.

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Kurt was mildly surprised at the clothing laid carefully across the bed, but dressed quickly. When he entered the living room he found her sitting quietly on the couch, lights dimmed, staring intently out of the open balcony doors. There was an alertness, a coiled energy in the set of her shoulders he hadn’t noticed before. “Hungry?” She nodded, rising from the couch quickly. In the dim light, he was once again struck by the vaguely feral aura she seemed to project. “Enjoy your run?” She nodded solemnly.

Once again he led her to the dining hall. This time she was prepared for the noise and chaos, and followed him quickly to the adult’s table. He was too tired and hungry to pay much attention to Kara or anything else until his own plate was empty. Teleporting took a great deal of energy and the Professor had put the whole team through their paces today. By the time he remembered the girl, he found her actively engaged in conversation with Kitty and Ororo, displaying a surprisingly expressive range of gestures and facial expressions. Currently, their topic of discussion was the junior team, the New Mutants, and their various antics during school hours. That reminded him, he’d had precious little time to spend with Kitty, who after all was supposed to be his best friend. He suggested a movie night in his quarters on her next free evening. Kitty agreed. That settled, he said goodnight and gestured to Kara to return with him to his rooms.

Now came the dilemma he’d been putting off. He could not continue sharing a bed with the girl indefinitely. But would he wake up if she had another nightmare? He’d yet to hear her make a sound other than a purr. Kara was oblivious to his preoccupation as she restlessly prowled around his quarters, finally settling on the couch with the remote. However she had spent the afternoon, it had certainly left her more animated than before. He sighed, earning him a questioning glance from his guest. He sat down and stared blankly at the screen, not really watching. Soon he was yawning. Kara looked at him, asking with gestures if he were ready to sleep.

“Tonight I sleep on the couch. You sleep in the bed.” She flicked the TV off and slipped off the couch, looking uneasy. He strode into his bedroom, located a pair of pajama pants and ducked into the bathroom to change. When he came out, he found Kara already dressed in an oversized T-shirt, looking young and solemn, perched uncomfortably on the edge of the bed. He ignored her, stripping the comforter from the bed and grabbing a pillow. He took both out to the living room and made himself comfortable on his sofa. He left the connecting door open and could hear the rustle of fabric as she settled into bed. Soon he was snoring softly.

A few hours later he was awakened with a sense that something was wrong. He listened carefully, but could hear nothing. Remembering Kara, he rose to check on her, finding the bed rumpled, but empty. The bathroom was also empty; the balcony and hall doors remained securely locked from the inside. That left only the closet, where he found her huddled on the floor, her face wet with tears. At least this time, she hadn’t retreated into her cat-form. Sighing, he scooped her up and carried her back to bed, this time curling up next to her. He held her tightly until her silent sobs subsided and she slept. Soon, he too was asleep. Tomorrow night would be soon enough to straighten out their sleeping arrangements.

In the morning, he was awakened by her gentle stroking of his cheek. Her steady regard was a bit disquieting as she studied his face. His arms were still wrapped around her and he was truly aware of her as a woman for the first time. He stifled his body’s reaction to her as he released her and rolled out of bed. –I am a fool. This cannot continue. I am not made of stone.—

But it did continue, and over the next few days they fell into a routine. By day, Kurt went about his normal business, returning for her for each meal time. She continued to roam the grounds, morning and afternoon. Each night was punctuated by at least one of Kara’s nightmares. After several aborted attempts at sleeping on the couch, Kurt gave in for the time being, unable to bring himself to leave her alone with her inner demons. He would get used to cold showers in the morning…eventually.

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As time passed, Kara became bolder in her explorations. Slowly she was coming to believe that the Professor and the others were sincere. During the mornings she explored the farthest reaches of the school grounds. In the afternoons, she began to roam closer to the school, watching the young students from afar, learning the sounds and scents of the school and its denizens.

At first Kara was very careful, keeping to the shadows, never letting the students see her. Most afternoons, she could find one or more of the New Mutants on the modified basketball court used for mutantball. The frenetic pace of the game and the free use of their diverse powers fascinated her. One girl was also a shape-shifter and could be seen quickly shifting between human, transitional, and lupine forms on those occasions she was persuaded to play. The one most often found on the court was the one known as Sunspot. He was almost as fanatical about the game as he was about soccer, which seemed to be the only activity that could keep him from the mutantball court. She watched those games as well, but they did not hold the same fascination for her.

The day came when her curiosity overcame her reticence. It was Sunspot who first spotted her after chasing a stray ball. He froze, eyes round. Not wanting to alarm anyone she shifted quickly to human form. “Hello. My name is Roberto da Costa.” She stepped forward and gave a tentative wave and smile.

“You are Kara are you not?” She nodded. He looked at her speculatively. “Would you like to play? We could use another player.” She paused, then nodded. “You are on my team then. Come on.” He motioned for her to follow and jogged back to the court, leaving her to follow. He made a quick introduction to the rest of the players, then began giving rapid fire instructions to Kara and the others.

Kara threw herself into the game, listening carefully for ‘Berto’s clipped commands. Too busy to worry about censure, she found herself slipping easily from one form to the other. Her form was a shifting blur, leaping and twisting, slipping between opponents. The ball was her quarry and she was relentless in her pursuit. When the game was over, she was nearly overwhelmed with the enthusiastic approval she received from her team mates. Roberto was adamant that she must return for their next game. She agreed with a shy smile before setting off for Nightcrawler’s quarters at a quick lope.

Kara’s mind whirled. New names and faces, smiles of approval, pats on the back…it was all so strange. She had not felt so…welcome…since…. Her mind shied away from old memories, buried too deeply, the cost of resurrection too steep. They had not minded her shifting, in fact they had cheered her on. This was something new to her experience. Master had hated it, forbidden it save when he commanded.

She rehearsed the new names in her mind, matching them to faces…Rahne/Wolfsbane, Sam/Cannonball, Dani/Mirage…For once she longed for speech, wished she could share the day’s events with someone. She touched her neck, tracing the faded scars left by the master’s “training collar.” Master’s first and cruelest lesson had been silence. She sighed as she slipped once again from the balcony railing, eager for a shower.

That evening at dinner Kurt seemed preoccupied, as he often was after a Danger Room session. He failed to notice the friendly waves Kara received from some of the students or her shy smiles in return. Ororo, however, made silent note of them. At dinner, Kitty reminded Kurt of his promise of a movie night. Chagrined, he agreed quickly. After dinner, Kitty accompanied them back to their rooms.

Several moments were spent in good natured argument over which movies to watch. Kara observed quietly. She found herself…uncomfortable… with the other girl’s easy affection for Dakka-Kurt. When Kitty curled up on the couch next to Kurt, Kara chose to sit at his feet, facing the TV, shielding her confusion from the others. Kurt failed to notice, quickly drawn into one of his favorites, but Kitty noted the girl’s tense posture. Having seen this movie too many times to count, she was more interested in Kara’s reaction than the story.

–You don’t like me cuddling with old Fuzzy here. Hmm… Not used to sharing? Or are you jealous? -- She thought back of what she’d seen of the girl with Kurt. –I think somebody’s got a little crush. Knowing Kurt, he’s been so busy playing Boy Scout he never noticed. I think we need a little girl talk here. -- She nudged Kurt with an elbow.

“Oof! Kitty…what?” He paused the movie.

“I think we could use some popcorn and maybe some sodas. It would be much faster if you teleport…”

“All right Katzchen, but you owe me. This is my favorite part.” He mock-scowled at her as Kara peered over her shoulder at them.

Kitty rolled her eyes. “They are all your favorite parts.” She made a shooing motion with her hands and he disappeared in a puff of purple smoke with his characteristic “bamf” sound. She scooted over a few inches and patted the couch beside her. “Hey Kara, come on up here. I think us girls should have a quick heart to heart before Fuzzy gets back.” The other girl looked puzzled, but took the offered spot.

“What do you think is going on here, with me and Fuzzy….Kurt, I mean?” Kara shrugged but looked tense. “Well the answer is … nothing. Kurt and I are best friends, and that’s it. Sometimes we joke around, pretend to flirt. But it’s really just goofing around between buddies.” She watched the other girl’s expression. Kara seemed to relax slightly, but still looked puzzled. ‘Personally I think it would do him a world of good, having you here I mean. He’s alone way too much.” Kara looked thoughtful but gave away nothing. “We’ll talk some more later, I think.” Kara started to slip back off the sofa. Kitty stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

Kurt reappeared a moment later, laden with popcorn and drinks. Finding Kara in the middle of the couch, he deposited the popcorn bowl in her lap and plopped down next to her, passing Kitty’s soda over her head. For the rest of the evening Kara remained cozily wedged beneath Kurt’s arm with Kitty lounging at the other end of the couch. When the evening was over, Kara accepted Kitty’s hug with genuine warmth. That night Kara slept soundly without a nightmare for the first time since she arrived at the Institute.