Stray Cat

Disclaimer: Xmen, New Mutants et al -- not mine. Kara, Her nameless Master-- mine. No money..no sue. This chapter continues to explore Kurt's past and its consequences. Non-consensual sex. You were warned. In this chapter I get a little ambitious (for me) with German dialogue. I don't read, write, or speak German. I cheated with Babelfish. I've used foot notes with what my German is supposed to say at the end of the chapter.

Updated 05/12/2007 with minor editing to improve readability. Please rate and review. I'm always open to suggestions.

Chapter Three: Long Nights

Kara’s enthusiastic participation in the almost daily games of mutantball did not go unnoticed. One afternoon, Ororo drew a mystified Kurt to her favorite vantage point, a common balcony overlooking the court. “Have you seen Roberto’s new star player?” Nightcrawler peered down, sorting the moving bodies out. Roberto’s team wore black bodysuits, the other team, orange. Down below were not one, but two black figures, darting back and forth. One was easily recognized as Sunspot, the other was moving so quickly it was hard to make out. Then it suddenly made a great spring into the air, twisting sharply to avoid Cannonball’s sudden change in trajectory. Now he could see the cat-like shape and gave a start as it changed mid-leap into the familiar panther-like beast he recognized as Kara’s cat form. She barely touched paws to earth before springing again, changing mid-leap from cat to cat-girl, snatching the ball from the air.

“She’s been out here almost every afternoon for the last week. It appears that she is what Roberto calls ‘a natural.’”

“I had no idea. Mein Gott! How can she move so fast?” Kurt continued to watch her, as she deftly avoided her opponents, typically passing the ball to Roberto or one of the other players for the actual shot. Her main goal appeared to be retrieving the ball anytime her team lost possession.

“I have talked to Charles and he and I agree. We feel that she should begin attending some academic classes with the older students.”

“I don’t understand. She still does not speak. She does not even cry out during her nightmares.”

“Oh? That is troubling.”

“Ja. But what good will taking classes do? She will not touch pen, pencil, or keyboard. She will not even turn the pages of a book.”

“Our hope is that she will continue to develop socially, rather than academically. I think it is best to group her with the students closest to her own age. I have spoken with Kitty and she has agreed to shepherd Kara during two of her morning classes.”

“And no one thought to consult me?” Kurt was beginning to get angry. Kara was his responsibility. He knew her better than anyone. His tail began an angry flick-flick-flick motion.

“We are consulting you. Now. Do you have any objections?”

He looked down again at Kara, considering. “I think you may be rushing her…but I cannot think of any. She gets along well with Kitty.” He looked down at the field again. “But, only if Kara agrees.”

And so it was decided. At dinner that evening, Kitty made Kara the offer, who agreed after looking to Kurt for permission. At his nod she agreed readily. The next morning, Kara left with Kitty after breakfast.

It turned out that it was just as well that Kara had something to keep her busy. The last few weeks had been relatively uneventful for the XMen, but it appeared their holiday was over. The next few days were punctuated by several emergencies requiring the XMen’s intervention, with Kurt returning late, usually after Kara had fallen asleep.

Kurt would slip into bed, careful not to disturb the girl. If she was disturbed by nightmares, he slept through them, not waking until morning. She was careful not to wake him when she rose for school. For several days he did not see her awake at all. When he had time to think, he found that he missed her presence. Finally, a day arrived when he was not called away from the mansion.

He was watching for her at lunch in the dining hall. So when she walked in with Roberto and several other New Mutants, he didn’t fail to notice Sunspot’s hand at the small of her back. Kitty followed behind chatting enthusiastically with the taller Danielle Moonstar. Sam Guthrie flanked Kara’s other side. Kurt’s expression darkened as he watched Roberto’s almost possessive air as he guided Kara to a seat at the younger team’s table, seating her between himself and Sam. He hardly noticed that Kitty chose a seat across from Kara.

“Hey Elf! Quit scowling. Someone might think you’re jealous.” Logan sat next to him, pitching his voice low enough that no one else would hear.

“I am not jealous! It is simply that she is not ready for…for a…a…Casanova like that one. I am worried, that is all.” Kurt concentrated on his meal.

“Humph! Who are you trying snow here, me or you?” Wolverine shoveled a large bite of food into his mouth.

“Snow? I do not know what you mean.” His eyes drifted again to the other table, where Kara was smiling at something Da Costa said. His tail thumped the floor behind him as he watched the boy rest his hand on her arm just a shade too long.

“I could warn him off. Any one o’ these punks would piss their pants if I show a little claw.” Logan offered in what passed for good-natured tones with him.

“No. No. I am over-reacting. She is making friends. That is good.” He stilled his tail with a force of will. Logan raised an eyebrow in his direction, but chose to inhale his food rather than make further comment.

Kurt finished his meal methodically, not truly tasting it. Was he jealous? Did he have any right to be? The girl was dependent on him, at least for now. It would be wrong to take advantage. Besides, she deserved better than a blue-furred freak, a monster. If she knew the things he’d done, if any of them did… he shook his head. She was his responsibility, that was it.

He stole another glance in her direction. This time she was leaning close to young Sam, gesturing eloquently. Whatever it was about, he could see a flush on the young man’s face. Even a straight arrow like the Guthrie kid could be tempted. He ground his teeth. He could make some rules, maybe a curfew…she would obey, he was certain. But, would they be for her benefit…or his. No. Technically, she was an adult. He should treat her that way as much as circumstances permitted.

As soon as he was done, he slipped away to his rooms. He tried to immerse himself in one of his favorite movies, but found himself waiting for Kara instead. Would she even return to his quarters before the afternoon’s game of mutantball? When she did arrive, he was so startled, he nearly teleported when she touched his shoulder to get his attention. She looked nearly as startled by his reaction and began to withdraw.

“No. No. I was just…caught up in the movie. I have not seen you in days. Awake that is. Come. Sit with me.” He patted the couch beside him. –I am babbling. What is wrong with me? -- Kara accepted his invitation and sat gingerly beside him. He wrapped his arm around her and drew her close, kissing the top of her head. “I have missed you.” She snuggled up to him, sighing contentedly. “You have missed me?” He felt her head nod. Her hand caught his idly waving tail as it rested across his lap. She toyed with it gently. –Ack! That feels good. A little too good. -- He pulled his tail from her grasp and instead squeezed her hand a moment.

“If there are no more emergencies this afternoon, I thought I might watch your game.” He felt her stiffen. He patted her hand again and gave her shoulders a reassuring squeeze. “It’s all right. Did you think I would disapprove? Nein, nein. I think it is good that you have found something you enjoy.” She looked up at him as if not quite believing. “I understand you are quite good. I am eager to see you play.”

They sat for a while watching the movie. He thought that Kara typically spent this time roaming the grounds, but she made no move to leave his side until the movie was over. It was nearly time for her game and she quickly changed into her “cat-suit.” Before she left, she gave him a quick hug. Rather than leaving through the hall door, she left via the balcony, slipping over the side to land in her full cat form. The cat then loped off in the direction of the ball court.

Kurt chose to take the more sedate route, through the mansion. This time he would watch from court-side. The game proved to be exciting, the two teams well matched. Kara was indeed good. She shifted quickly and easily between forms, often shifting mid-leap and executing spine-twisting maneuvers. He was concerned when after the first half Sunspot made a point of feeling her face and forehead with the back of his hand and immediately sent her to the bench, substituting another player for the third quarter. Kara sprawled on the bench while Danielle poured water over her head and patted her down with damp towels.

“She has trouble dumping enough body heat while she’s shifting and moving so much.” He started. He hadn’t noticed Kitty at his elbow. “She’ll be fine for the fourth. Just watch.” At the end of the quarter, Da Costa waved Kara back in after a nod from Dani. Kara leapt into the action. He could hear Da Costa shouting instructions. The game was fast paced and he found himself cheering. In the end, Da Costa’s team won and he waited, watching Kara and her teammates congratulate one another. He stifled a growl as he watched Sunspot put an arm around Kara’s shoulders. Kara allowed it to remain a moment, but then shrugged it off with a shake of her head in response to something the boy said.

“Oh great. ‘Berto’s at it again. We’d better go rescue her.” Kitty grabbed his arm and propelled him towards the knot of players.

“Again?”

“Oh yeah. He’s convinced that if he keeps at it long enough, she’ll go out with him. She’s so not interested.” Kitty’s voice dripped with disgust.

“She’s not?”

“Well duh!”

By then Kara had spotted them and soon he had a double armful of excited girl. He hugged her tightly and congratulated her. He didn’t miss Roberto’s scowl when he rested his arm around Kara’s waist and left it there. He gave a congratulatory wave to the younger man, while Kitty chattered excitedly at Kara. --Let the arrogant little bastard think what he likes.—He tightened his grip on Kara’s waist and suggested that she and Kitty join him for a celebratory junk food binge instead of dinner. He was tempted to ‘port Kara away, but he didn’t want to leave Kitty in the lurch. He herded the two girls off towards the kitchen as Da Costa called after them insisting Kara come to the next game. She waved assent, but didn’t turn around.

They quickly raided the pantry and fridge before the cook could shoo them out. Back in Kurt’s room, they spread out their loot on his coffee table and turned on some music. While they ate, Kitty caught Kurt up on all of the institute’s gossip. Kara listened with the air of someone who had heard it all before. Afterwards, Kitty and Kurt lounged on the sofa arguing over movies while Kara lounged on the floor, watching Kurt’s tail as it twitched lazily. Unable to resist the temptation, Kara pounced on it, grabbing it with both hands. Kurt yelped in surprise, then pounced on Kara, tickling her mercilessly. Kitty collapsed in a fit of giggles and nearly phased through the sofa. Kara wriggled, trying to escape, giggling soundlessly. Finally, Kitty took mercy on her and began tickling Kurt. Then Kurt was defending himself from two sets of clever fingers and he finally surrendered, pleading that he could not breathe.

When Kitty left it was nearly midnight. Kurt waved Kara on to the shower as he cleaned up the remains of their little party. He’d had a good time, but he needed a moment to think. Something had changed. Why was he acting…and feeling…so possessive about Kara? When had this happened? Was it when he first saw her with Da Costa? Or did it start before she even came to the Institute? He cut his introspective thoughts short as he heard her climb in the bed. By the time he joined her, she was already asleep.

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He blinked, trying to clear his vision, dazzled by the stage lights. He could hear voices beyond the harsh ring of illumination, taunting him. He tested the strength of his bonds, the collar around his neck was cold hard steel, so were the cuffs at both wrists. Both collar and cuffs were attached somewhere in the shadows above. Another set of cuffs bound his feet to the floor of the cage. Nothing but his fur shielded him from their stares. He could feel their hands, reaching through the bars, reaching for him. Strange hands touched him, poked him, prodded him. When a particularly clever set of hands began to stroke him there, he tried to retreat and was stopped short by the collar. He could not even look down to see his tormenters, so tight were his bonds. And always there was laughter. He strained against his bonds vainly. There was no escape.

He hated them. Hated their touching. Hated their taunting. Hated their laughter. But more than that, he hated himself. He hated the weakness that made him slave to their drugs. Hated the way his body obeyed them even when he screamed defiance. Most of all he hated what came next. One more prick of the needle, the burning sting as the drug entered his vein. Then came the confusion, the dizziness, and worst of all, the rage as it overwhelmed the small screaming remnant of that was "Kurt."

He could hear the creak of the cage door opening, could hear the frightened pleading of the girl they brought him. The clang of the cage door slamming behind her echoed through his drug-hazed brain. Then suddenly, the cables were released and he was free. The crowd’s taunts and jeers were a roar in his ears, drowning out the girl’s voice. He advanced on her, seeing her pale skin, naked as he was. She would try to flee but there was nowhere to go. He reached for her, felt the dark silk of her hair as it slipped through his fingers. Maddened, he reached again seizing her wrists with both hands, forcing her to the floor of the cage. He used his weight to pin her down, grasped her ankles with his hand like feet and forced them apart. He could feel her warm body beneath him and could think only of his drug-driven urges. He was angered as his attempts to enter her were thwarted somehow. He glared down at her, for the first time seeing her face. Green-gold eyes stared back at him.

The shock of recognition broke the spell of the dream, but it was too late. It was Kara’s body pinned beneath him, only the fabric of his pajamas had prevented him from completing the violence of his dream. Horrified, he threw himself from her. “Nein! Lieber Gott kann es nicht sein. Ich werde verdammt!”

Still caught in the confusion of the dream, he retreated physically to the farthest corner of the room. There he huddled, arms tightly around his knees, his tail wrapped tightly around his wrists as if afraid that even now, his body might continue the attack all on its own. He was babbling in German, cursing himself, his tormenters, and begging forgiveness of God and most of all Kara.

Kara was frightened, but forced herself to remain human. She had not understood why Dakka-Kurt had been so confused and frustrated by their clothing. In the darkness, she had only been able to see the yellow slits of his eyes. She would have removed the offending garments, if only he had let her. She huddled on the bed, watching him, mystified. When he had cursed and released her so abruptly, she thought he was angry with her. She did not understand German, only the tone of his words.

But then his tone changed to apologetic and she heard her name. “Lieber Gott verzeihen mir bitte. Ich bedeutete ihn nicht. Verzeihen Sie mir Kara. Wie könnte ich Sie verletzen?”(*1) Curious, she moved closer. Was he…crying?

As she drew closer, she heard more words that she could understand. “Es war ein Traum. Ein schrecklicher Traum. A nightmare. I am so sorry.”(*2) A nightmare? Nightmares she understood. He had not been awake at all and thought he had hurt her. She shook her head no, but he would not look at her and she could not speak. She crept closer until she could touch his face. She could feel the dampness of tears in the fur of his cheek. He shuddered and drew back, but he had left himself no room. Kara touched his hands; they were cold, so tight he hand wound his tail. He had not left her alone with her nightmares. She would not leave him alone with his.

Kurt pleaded with her to leave as she reached for his face, tracing the lines of his tears with her fingers. She gently stroked the planes of his face, running her fingers through his hair, smoothing it back. He shuddered again. She stroked his face again and trailed her fingers down the back of his neck, kneading gently with her fingertips. She paused as she felt a ridge of scar tissue. She traced it around his neck, clever fingers finding it buried beneath his fur. She rested one hand in the hollow of his neck, fingertips on the scar as she reached to trace the scars on her own. Then insistent fingers were prying at his tail, pulling it firmly away from his wrists. He tried to withdraw them, to stop her, but she held his arm firmly as she traced the scars around first one wrist, then the other. Then she released him.

She knew. Unable to face her, he buried his face in his hands. He could feel her there, inches away. He felt her touch again, pulling his hands away from his face. She was so close he could feel her breath on his cheek. She moved into the circle of his arms and took his face in her hands. Still unable to meet her eyes, he kept his own closed. Then he felt her lips tracing the lines of his tears from chin to cheek, kissing his eyelids, his forehead. This drove a fresh burst of tears from him and he clutched at her, burying his face in the curve of her neck. She began to stroke his shoulders and back soothingly. Somewhere deep in her chest she began to purr. When his sobs subsided, she retreated, drawing him with her back to the bed. When he resisted, she pulled insistently, miming sleep with one hand. When he began to protest she silenced him by placing her fingers on his lips.

She pulled him down on the bed beside her and cradled his head on her shoulder. Using her free hand to stroke his face, she traced the lines with her fingertips. She continued to purr reassuringly and exhausted, he soon fell asleep.

Kara remained awake for some time, puzzling out the events of the evening. This was a revelation. Dakka-Kurt had once worn a collar, long enough to leave the scars she knew so well. He still wore it in his dreams, just as she did. He was afraid of hurting her because it was what he had been trained to do, she was certain of it. This changed everything… And nothing at all. She had nothing to fear from him. He could do nothing worse than had been done before. She flexed her fingers carefully, the claws had returned, unbidden and unwanted. The darkness had cloaked the changes. She blinked cat-slitted eyes wearily. It was getting so hard to stay human. No, she wasn’t afraid of him, she was afraid for him.

In the morning Kurt woke slowly, remembering the events of the night before, he groaned. Their arms were still wrapped around one another. He began to pull away from Kara, but she tightened her grip on him. He met her gaze and she smiled at him.

“Oh God, Kara. I am so sorry…” She shushed him with a hand on his lips. Then placed her hand firmly over his heart and held it there for a moment as she held his gaze. She gave him another squeeze, then let him go, rolling out of bed and padding quietly into the living room. It was Saturday and soon he heard the sound of cartoons drifting through the door. He lay there for a moment, thinking, then began pulling himself together to face the day.

Haunted by the night’s events, Kurt spent much of the day in the Danger Room. He knew he was punishing himself, but it was easier than facing Kara. No matter how hard he drove himself, he could not stop the tormenting thoughts. He thought he’d put the monster behind him, but it still lived inside him. It had reached through the years, through his dream and tried to claim one more victim. He should send her away, move her out of his quarters, out of his reach. He had resolved to do just that when he returned to his rooms that evening.

But, he found it much more difficult to do than he’d thought. When he arrived, the rooms were empty, Kara was out somewhere, but had left a tray of snacks for him. Probably with Kitty, he thought. He ate alone, then showered. He dressed for bed and lay down. Just for a minute. Just to think. But fatigue overwhelmed him and he didn’t stir when Kara gently spread a blanket over him.

Sometime in the night, he woke shivering, covered with sweat. He could still hear the screams and jeers of his nightmare ringing in his ears. He could feel the heavy weight of a large animal resting on his chest, could feel the rumbling purr coming from its body and felt a rough tongue bathing his face. “Kara.” He reached up and buried his hands in her thick fur. She shifted her weight and he could breathe more easily. She settled down next to him, still purring and lazily washing his face until he turned and buried his face in her shoulder. Unable to stop himself, he found himself sobbing into her fur as she nuzzled his head and shoulders, ruffling his hair. Finally, he released her and allowed sleep to claim him again with Kara a warm rumbling presence at his side.

In the morning Kurt found himself unable to follow through on his intentions of moving the girl out. Kara had remained in her cat form all night, having found a solution so neat that it squashed all of his half-formed arguments before he even voiced them. Feeling he had been neglecting her, he suggested they spend the day roaming the grounds, together. Kara’s fur bristled with excitement. He had to insist they get breakfast first and she reluctantly shifted back to human form just long enough to grab a few bites in the kitchen.

What started out as a way to expiate some of his guilt turned into sheer fun. With just Kara to see him, he dropped all dignity and chased her on all fours. They played games of chase and pounce, practiced stalking each other and stalking some of the little things in the wood. As a cat, Kara was much bolder, playful. Anytime he lost sight of her he could expect her to pounce on his tail at any second, that being her favorite target.

As a lark, he teleported up into a tree, wondering what she would do. After a moment, she emerged from the underbrush and sniffed at the place he had just left, looking around. In moments she found the right tree and stood up on her hind legs, looking up at him, hesitating. He taunted her, daring her to follow. She dropped down and circled the tree, still hesitating. Finding something odd in her behavior, Kurt fell silent, watching. The cat again came to the base of the tree and looking up, shifted, becoming the cat-girl he had only seen on the mutantball court. In this form she quickly climbed the tree and crouched before him, staring solemnly, tail still and stiff as if waiting to be chastised.

“What’s the matter Kara?” She looked away. Looked at her hands, flexing the claws in and out, looked again at him. “It’s O.K. I’ve seen this form before, during the game.” The tip of her tail twitched. He considered her for a moment. “He didn’t like you this way, did he? He punished you for it, didn’t he?” She ducked her head. “Well I’m not him.” She looked skeptical as he reached for her hand. He turned it over, studying it, touching the palm, flexing the fingers, watching the claws extend and retract. She made no move to stop him, just watched with unblinking, cat-slitted eyes.

“He was afraid of this form, wasn’t he? It scared him.” Kara looked away, her expression pained. Sensing he had pushed as far as he should, he dropped the subject and released her hand. Flashing her a grin he teleported to the ground. “Catch me if you can.” He dropped to all fours and dashed into the underbrush, leaving her to chase him. He led her on a merry chase, having to use his teleportation to stay ahead of her. Gradually, he led her back to the mansion as it was nearly time for dinner. They had had so much fun they’d never stopped for lunch. Finally, she caught him, pouncing on him in her cat form, bowling him over, then shifting quickly to her fully human form. She sat on his belly, laughing silently, cheeks flushed. The late afternoon sunlight picked out glints of fire in her dark hair, crowning her in glory. He was struck breathless for a moment.

“Hey guys!” Then the spell was broken by the sound of Kitty’s voice. He looked up, she and Peter were standing nearby, Peter’s arms wrapped around her waist, resting his chin on the top of her head. --When did that happen and why didn’t she tell me? — Kurt mused as Kara rolled off of him, rising to wave a greeting to the couple. “We were just about to head in for dinner. You guys coming or what?” Kara glanced at Kurt as he picked himself up, brushing dirt and leaves from his clothes.

“Ja. We are coming. I believe we have forgotten lunch and I for one am famished.” He offered Kara his arm and the foursome entered the mansion together.


Translations:
*1: Lieber Gott verzeihen mir bitte. Ich bedeutete ihn nicht. Verzeihen Sie mir Kara. Wie könnte ich Sie verletzen? = Dear God forgive me please. I did not mean it. Forgive me Kara. How could I hurt you?
*2: Es war ein Traum. Ein schrecklicher Traum. = It was a dream. A terrible dream.