Stray Cat

Disclaimer: Xmen, New Mutants, etc....Not Mine. Kara, her nameless "Master"...mine. No money...no sue.
That said, lets move on to the story at hand...

Monday morning started off with a bang, literally. The senior X-men were roused from their beds to deal with a band of mutant terrorists bent on causing explosions in several cities around the world. Kara was left alone for much of the next few weeks, with Kurt arriving well after she’d fallen asleep on those few nights he was able to return. Kitty alternated between worry about Kurt and Peter and being frustrated at being stuck at home with the “X-babies.”

Assuming Kara’s silence was sympathetic, Kitty kept her close by much of the time. This led to Kitty’s revealing her favorite hidey-hole, a forgotten attic dormer room blocked in by decades of accumulated junk. She had found it by accident when she had floated through the ceiling of her bedroom while sleeping. Here is where she would go to escape or when she needed to study in private. The only way in or out was through the use of her phasing ability. Kara seemed to take an instant liking to the place and would curl up on the window seat anytime Kitty brought her up. After some consideration, Kitty suggested that they clear a path so that Kara could reach it on her own. They then spent a very dusty and sweaty, but satisfying afternoon creating a narrow passageway between the little room and the main attic floor. In the process they found a number of forgotten odds and ends they used to “redecorate” the little room. They were careful to conceal the passage opening with a beat up old trunk that looked much heavier than it was.

When they were finished, the room sported a compact little writing desk and chair, an eclectic combination of antique tables and lamps, an oriental rug and a large pile of cushions. The bookcases had always been there, as had the heavy old armchair and an ornate floor length mirror. Satisfied, the girls curled up, Kitty reading and Kara idly watching the shadows play across the walls. They left only when their stomachs informed them that it was time for dinner. At dinner, Kitty hinted again, in her not so subtle way, that Kara should push things with Kurt the next time he was home. Kara, for once was glad she wasn’t expected to answer.

As the weeks wore on,Kara found herself more and more alone, while Kitty and the other students were busy with midterms. Even the mutantball games had become few and far between. She began to prowl the mansion as well as the grounds, coming again and again to the library. Books filled her with dread, but at the same fascinated her. Master had included even the handling of books in his rule of silence. Even without his presence, these lessons were hard to forget. One lonely, rainy afternoon, she finally dared to take a book from the shelf. For herself. Then she fled to the shelter of the dormer room.

She must have sat for an hour, curled up on her window seat, staring at the closed book before daring to open it. Finally, she opened it and began to read. At first she started at any imagined noise or changing shadow. But soon she was drawn into the tale of dwarves and hobbits and a dragon’s horde. When Kitty ghosted through the floor she took no notice at all.

“Are you reading a book?!?” Kara immediately dropped the book as if burned, looking at the other girl guiltily. Kitty picked up the abused novel to read the spine. “Tolkien, huh? I’d say I didn’t think you’d be into this stuff except I know how much you like elves…” Kara blushed crimson but accepted the book gingerly.

“Sorry, couldn’t resist. Hey, but this is good! You reading and all.” Kitty looked at her sidelong, then decided further ribbing would only make the other girl more nervous. “Anyway, rumor has it, the X-Men should be home to stay by tomorrow night. At least stay until the next time the world needs saving.” She rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I’m trying to get ahead on my homework so that I can spend some quality time with Peter when he gets back. So I will be way too busy to notice if someone were, say reading a book quietly.” Kitty plopped her heavy knapsack on the little desk, ready to get to work. Taking the hint, Kara turned her back to the other girl and again opened her book. After a few moments she forgot Kitty, the room, and everything else altogether.

Later that night Kara lay alone in bed. The comforting spell of the book she had read was fading quickly and she was lonely. Her thoughts turned again and again to Kurt. She no longer thought of him as her Dakka. Only as Kurt. And she now knew that Kitty had read her right. She wanted more. She wanted him to look at her and touch her the way Peter did with Kitty, the way Scott did with Jean, and all those others she had seen since coming here.

Somehow it would be different from the way Master had touched her. There had never been any kindness or affection with Him. When he wished her to, she had enjoyed it his attentions, but often he hadn’t cared. Even more often he had wanted only pain from her. And Master always got what he wanted. She tried to drive the memories away, tossing and turning. The nightmares would come and Kurt would not be here this time.

The nightmares did come, again and again. There was the blood and Master’s terrible anger. His face haunted her dreams and she relived that last terrible beating and abandonment more times than she could count. Morning found her shaken and exhausted. Kitty seemed oblivious as she chattered excitedly about her plans with Peter. Kara was relieved to retreat to the dormer room after lunch, once again to be drawn into the book’s spell and finally to fall asleep, curled on the window seat. She slept on until Kitty woke her for dinner and was disappointed to find out the X-Men still had not returned.

After dinner she spent several hours in Kurt’s rooms, watching TV, trying to wipe the previous night’s nightmares from her mind before heading to bed. She decided to take a shower, so she did not hear Kurt enter the room. Dressed only in her nightshirt she stepped out of the bathroom and was surprised to find a very weary Kurt sitting on the edge of the bed. Wanting to touch him, to feel that he was real, she approached him and slid her arms around his shoulders. Kurt looked up at her, still silent.

Kurt was so numb with fatigue that he at first hardly registered the soft touch of her lips on his. When he made no move, her gentle kiss became more insistent. He felt her hands on his back, his shoulders, one slipped behind his head and her kiss began to deepen. He found himself responding, his lips and hands moving as if they had a will of their own. His fatigue and her silence gave the experience a dream-like quality and it wasn’t until he felt her increasingly bold hands tugging at his uniform that the reality of what was happening hit him. He could not allow this to happen.

“No, Kara. No.” He tore his lips from hers by sheer force of will and captured her roving hands with his own. He meant to be gentle, but the words came out harsh, almost angry. The hurt in her eyes nearly broke his resolve. She made a feeble gesture, as if pleading with him. “No. I cannot. I am sorry.” He watched her face take on the blank expression she used to mask her feelings, then watched it crumble into tears before she pulled herself from his grasp. She turned from him, leaned against the dresser below his mirror, head bowed, shoulders shaking in time with her silent weeping.

“I can’t Kara. You don’t know what you are doing. You…You do not owe me this. You do not owe anyone this. You…you must be confused. You would only regret this later.” The girl remained motionless. “I am not trying to hurt you. Please, look at me Kara.”

Kara clutched at the dresser, needing its support. She felt as if the storm of emotions would sweep her away. She could hear his voice, his words, but the meaning was lost to her. He did not want her. No one wanted her. It was the tone of his final plea, not the words that drew her to lift her head.

Her image stared back at her with cat-slitted eyes. She watched in horror as short pale fur began to spring from her flesh, her face becoming something alien to her. Only then did she feel her unsheathed claws digging into the dresser’s surface. Her silent snarl of denial showed her sharp fangs. She finally admitted the truth. She was no longer human. Her human face had become just a mask, one that abandoned her when she needed it most. She could not, would not touch him. It would happen again, but this time it would be Kurt’s blood that would spill. She struck out at the beast before her. The image shattered and the beast turned from the wreckage and Kurt’s anxious gaze, fleeing into the concealing night.

Kurt was stunned by the Kara’s sudden violence. Belatedly, he tried to follow, calling after her. He found the shredded remains of her nightshirt on the ground below the balcony. It was too late. He would never find her in the darkness. He returned to his bedroom. He surveyed the remains of the mirror, wondering what had happened. What did she see in her reflection? How had things gone so wrong? Hoping that she would return in the morning, he left the mess where it was, lay on the bed and let sleep claim him.

In the morning, it was not Kara at his door, it was Kitty. “Rough night Fuzzy?. Where’s Kara?”

“She…is not here.” Kitty raised an eyebrow at that, then spotted the broken mirror through the open door.

“Whoa! What happened to your mirror?”

“It broke. Last night.” Kurt did not want to rehash the night’s disaster with anyone. Even Kitty. Especially Kitty.

“Mirrors don’t break themselves.” She stared him down. “Kara broke it, didn’t she? Why? What happened?”

Kurt ran his fingers through his unruly hair, stalling. “A…a… misunderstanding. She was upset. I…I was very tired. I did not handle it well.” He shrugged, hoping Kitty would drop it. He and the other XMen had agreed to keep the more sensitive details about Kara from Kitty and the other students. If she pushed it, he would be forced to lie.

Kitty narrowed her eyes at him and tilted her head. “A misunderstanding, huh?” Her eyes widened in comprehension. “Oh wow! She like, finally got up the nerve to actually…do something. And you turned her down didn’t you?” Her tone was accusing. “Why? She’s like so into you. You are into her too, I see it. She is seriously hot. I admit it. I’m jealous. The only thing keeping ‘Berto and the others off her back is they all think you’re sleeping with her.”

Kurt sputtered. “I am not sleeping with her! I…I would not take such advantage. It would be wrong. She is…dependent on me. She is confusing need with something else. That is all.” Kitty did not look convinced. He sighed, running his fingers through his hair wearily. “Do you know where she might be? I am worried. I found blood when I was cleaning up. She may have hurt herself.”

“I might. But I’m not buying that crock. And neither should she. Little miss ‘dependent’ has been doing just fine without you. You’ve been here all of what…three, maybe four nights in the last three weeks? There’s something else going on here. What is it?” She crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently.

“Some things are personal, Kitty. I do not owe you an explanation.” Kitty was clearly taken aback by his answer.

“No. I guess you don’t owe me one.” She checked her watch. “I’ve got class. Later.” Kitty turned on her heel abruptly and marched down the hall.

Kurt shut the door and sighed. Now Kitty was mad at him on top of the mess he’d made of things with Kara. He was beginning to wish he hadn’t come home at all.

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As soon as she rounded the corner and was sure that Kurt hadn’t followed, Kitty changed direction, heading for her room at a jog. Once there, she dropped her pack on her desk, climbed on top of the bed, then jumped upwards, phasing through the ceiling. The dormer room was dark and she peered around, then spotted a pale leg sticking out of the pile of cushions in the corner.

“Kara! Hey Kara! What’s going on with you and Kurt?” The cushions moved as the leg vanished into the pile. She pursued and began grabbing pillows and tossing them aside in the general area she expected to find a head. She met resistance and tugged insistently at the cushion. Finally, the other girl let go, blinking sleepily at Kitty. Now that she was closer, she could tell Kara’s eyes were bloodshot, her thick lashes matted with dried tears, her hair disheveled. Kitty flipped on the nearest lamp and the other girl winced.

“Well, you look like hell. If it makes you feel any better, Kurt doesn’t look any better.” Now she could see that Kara seemed to be wearing nothing at all under the cushions. Kara looked around nervously, as if she expected to see Kurt walk in any second. “I didn’t tell him where you are, OK? I’m not sure what the heck happened, but Kurt’s definitely hiding something.” Kitty knelt down next to Kara, still covered in cushions. “He gave me some cock and bull story about you being all dependent on him and being mixed up because you needed him. I’ve known him a long time and that’s about as close as he’s ever come to flat out lying to me.” She watched Kara closely trying to glean something from the other girl’s expression. Kara looked troubled, but otherwise gave up nothing.

“OK. Kurt did say you broke a mirror and that he found some blood. So let me see.” Kara pulled herself up to a sitting position, revealing that she was wearing absolutely nothing under those cushions. She extended both arms, showing the backs of her hands. Her knuckles were scabbed over with dried blood, but Kitty could see the wounds had already begun to close. “You shifted since then? Well we should still get you cleaned up. We’ve got class in…” Kitty checked her watch. “Twenty minutes.” Kara shook her head and began to pull the cushions back over her body. “No you don’t. Welcome to Kitty Pryde’s school of ‘Life goes On.’ Hang on.” Kitty grabbed the other girl’s arm and willed them both to phase out, allowing them to slip through the floor. Startled, Kara grabbed Kitty’s arm with her free hand as they drifted downwards.

Once they were solid again, Kitty bullied the other girl into a quick cleanup. While Kara was in the bathroom, she selected an outfit for the other girl, including a pair of gloves to cover those beat up knuckles. When Kara emerged, Kitty was waiting brush in hand. In less than ten minutes she had Kara’s hair brushed and pulled back in a pony tail, bloodshot eyes cleared up with eye drops, and knuckles bandaged and camouflaged. She then pressed a protein bar into the other girl’s hand and proceeded to drag her through the halls to their first class.

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Over the next few days, Kurt tried several times to talk to Kara. She did not return to his rooms at all that night or the next. After two days of just missing her, he had to admit she was avoiding him. He was able to gather that she was continuing to go to class with Kitty, and to meet with her usual crowd at meal times. Despite his best efforts, however, she was always able to slip away before he could speak to her. Kitty too, was giving him a wide berth. He was hesitant to ask anyone about Kara’s whereabouts as he knew questions would follow that he didn’t want to answer.

On the afternoon of the third day, he returned to his room after a workout in the Danger Room. He knew as soon as he entered the door that something was different. Looking around, he found that someone had removed all of Kara’s meager belongings from his room. The only signs that she had been there at all were the broken mirror and the strange gouges on his dresser. His heart sank. She wasn’t coming back. Hadn’t even let him talk to her. He didn’t know which was more shocking, that she could just shut him out so completely, or that it hurt so much that she had.

Unable to bear the emptiness of his rooms, he sought out Logan. Together, they plowed through an astonishing quantity of beer. While Logan was merely feeling “sociable,” Kurt alternated between self-loathing diatribes and confession of sins real and imagined, especially those regarding Kara and her flight. In the end, it was disgusted Logan who dumped Kurt in his bed to sleep it off. Shaking his head at the younger man, he took a close look at the dresser and mirror before leaving. So little of the girl’s scent remained, that he knew she had deliberately removed even those traces when she left. Kitty wouldn’t have thought of it, he was sure.

–I think it’s about time I checked up on our little stray.— She had to be holed up somewhere in the mansion. First, thinking she may have roomed in with Kitty or one of the other students, he prowled through the student’s dormitories. While he did find several students roaming about, he found little trace of Kara. By the time he finished scaring the mischief out of the roamers, he gave up the search for the night.

Over the next few days, the XMen found they had precious little time for personal pursuits. Several emergencies demanded their attention and it was nearly a week before Logan remembered his resolve to ferret out Kara’s hideout. He did gather that the kid was not just avoiding Kurt, she was putting in the bare minimum time with her “friends” as well. And she was savvy enough to cover her tracks. Where had a pampered little “pet” like her learned that particular set of skills? He widened his search and was surprised to find that her tracks picked up in the library of all places. In fact, her scent was all over the stacks and he even found it clinging to at least a dozen books, each carefully returned to its place on the shelves.

Curiousity piqued now, Logan followed the scent trail carefully, ignoring the startled looks he got from the students he passed. Kara had pulled her usual vanishing act right after lunch. She’d slipped out of the dining hall while he was talking with the Professor and he’d lost the opportunity to shadow her. The trail led him into the less traveled parts of the mansion, then upwards into the attic. The scent here was fresher and he knew he was getting close.

He found the false bottomed trunk with little difficulty and squeezed carefully through the passageway. He stifled a sneeze at all the dust up here. He thought idly that they ought to send some of the youngsters up here to clean and reorganize this junk. Some of it was certainly valuable. Then he was facing a small wooden door. Checking his memory of the building’s layout, whatever was behind it should be directly over Kitty’s room. He nodded to himself and listened carefully. Nothing, but he could smell her scent coming from behind the door. The door had no lock so he carefully eased it open, hoping it would not creak. He didn’t want the kid to bolt if she had another exit. This room wasn’t on the security maps and he couldn’t be sure without a look-see.

The light was dim inside, but he could make out a silhouette on a window seat beneath the only window. She moved slightly, turning a page in the heavy book resting on her knees, the last light of the sun reflecting off its pages. He slipped inside silently, if the girl could hear, she was too caught up in her reading to notice. Glancing around, he could see there was no other exit to the small room. Her clothes and belongings were stacked neatly on one book case and a small collection of books weighed down the other. A makeshift bed was in one corner and had obviously been used recently.

“Nice place you got here.” The book tumbled from her grasp and landed on the floor with a loud “thump.” The girl crouched on the window seat and for a moment he thought she meant to spring at him. He could smell the fear scent on her. But she remained still, her face in shadow too deep for him to make out. He was certain she could see him perfectly. He reached out and flicked on a lamp. She averted her face and blinked several times. “Been wondering where you’ve been hiding.” He could see now her grasp on the edge of the window seat was white-knuckled and her face was pale as a ghost.

His eyes lit on the book, its pages rumpled and bent as it rested open, spine upward. He advanced slowly to pick it up, never taking his gaze off of her face. He smoothed the pages carefully, then closed the book, noting the title. It was a heavy psychology text from the Professor’s library. “Kinda heavy reading for a beginner.” He offered the book to her. She looked at him uncomprehending for a moment, before reaching tentatively for the book, her hands shaking. He pressed the book into her hands, covering hers with his own. “No one’s going to punish you for reading. This is a school you know.” He let go of her hands and she cradled the book to her chest. He backed away as she slipped from the window seat to place the volume carefully on a shelf, turning on another lamp as she passed.

When she turned around, much of the fear had faded from her expression and her scent. Now she looked almost angry. –Hmm…what is this? Don’t like someone invading your territory? Guess I can’t call you ‘stray’ anymore. This is home and you don’t like me here.-- She gestured pointedly at the armchair before returning to her window seat, feet swinging slightly against the carved front, much like the flick-flick-flick of a cat’s tail when annoyed. –Good. A little rebellion will do you a world of good. As long as it’s got a purpose.-- He took the offered seat and pulled out a cigar. At her scowl, he opted just to chew on it, rather than light it.

“Kitty’s room is just below, ain’t it?” She nodded. “You girls have done a hell of a job here, and right under my nose.” He tapped his nose for emphasis. “It’s my job to know where everything and everyone is here. Can’t believe I missed it.” He did his best to look chagrined. A little flattery wouldn’t hurt. The feet slowed down a bit. “Now I’m pretty impressed at how far you’ve come on your own here, moving into your own place, making friends, even reading. Gave me a little bit of trouble finding you. Where did you learn to cover your trail like that?” The girl looked uncomfortable and unhappy at that question. “Bad memories huh? Nevermind.”

Logan fumbled around in his pockets, looking for something. He grunted and pulled a small wooden box from his breast pocket. It was slim and rectangular, with a carved design decorating the top. “Picked this up a few weeks ago. Thought you might like it.” He offered it to the girl, not moving from his seat. She hesitated before slipping from her seat and reaching for it. The design proved to be a series of cat figures inlaid in silver, each stretched out as if running, forming an oval on top of the box. He watched as she stroked it with the tip of her finger. “Open it.” She lifted the lid away, revealing a set of three fountain pens, each a glossy black and sporting a single silver cat figure. The girl physically flinched and tried to hand the box back to Logan.

“If you can read, you can write. Ain’t you tired of silence?” He coaxed her, rising slowly from the chair. She held the box as if it were filled with poisonous spiders. He pointed at the desk. “Sit.” When she hesitated, he physically propelled her into the chair. She immediately placed the box on the table and clasped her hands in her lap. Logan began to rummage in the desk until he found some paper, probably left there by Kitty. “Here. Write something. Your name.” She stared at the desk, not moving. He physically pried her hands apart, taking one of the pens and placing it in her hand. She immediately dropped it.

“Kara. He’s not here. As far as he knows, you’re dead. Now, do it.” He placed the pen in her hand again and held it there, guiding her hand to the paper. She struggled against him, but he was stronger. In the end he won and the word “Kara” was scrawled across the page. When he relaxed, she shrugged him off and glared at him, but did not drop the pen. “Go on. Write something. How about a thank you note? Seeing as how I just gave you a present.” He smirked at her. The girl crumpled up the top sheet of paper and tossed it in a wastebasket. Then she smoothed the top sheet of paper, paused, then began to write, jaw set stubbornly. Her handwriting was childish, but the sentiment was not:

Dear Logan:

Thank you for your generosity. The pens are beautiful and I shall remember each gift you have given me as I use them. They are a symbol of those gifts which, while less tangible, are infinitely more valuable.

Sincerely,

Kara

Logan read the note, then carefully folded it, tucking it into his breast pocket. He cleared his throat uncomfortably. The girl looked up at him. “Very nice.” He sighed. “Keep practicing. Maybe do some homework. You’ve been getting off pretty easy, most of the kids are scrabbling away half the night trying to keep up.” He tried to lighten the tone, emotional stuff not being his strong point. She looked thoughtful.

“I’d better tell Chuck you’re up here, so’s you don’t get in trouble if someone else finds your room. I’ll get you a lock, give you some privacy.” She nodded solemnly, relieved he wasn’t going to make her leave. He let himself out, listening to the scratch of pen on paper. He smiled to himself then hurried to the Professor’s study to make good on his promise.

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“Silence? The child hardly needs a code name when she is unsuited to joining a team.” The Professor’s rejection had a tone of finality.

“I think you are selling her short Chuck. She’s been running circles around us XMen and we never noticed.”

“Oh?” Logan produced the thank you note and explained exactly how he’d come into possession of it. Including the girl’s skill at evading pursuit and covering her trail.

“What made you think a confrontation would work, Logan? I certainly wouldn’t have recommended such a course.”

“Kid’s already had some success at fighting the conditioning. She started reading all on her own. From the way her scent was all over the library, she’s been at it for weeks. I just figured if I pitted one rule against the other, something would give. And it did.”

“Obedience versus silence? I can’t agree with your methods. But, I can’t argue with your results.” The Professor looked thoughtful. “I do wish Kurt had come to me when he began to have problems with her. I had no idea she moved out.”

“Elf’s got his reasons. I may not agree with ‘em, but I do respect ‘em.” The Professor raised an eyebrow, but didn’t ask further.

“I think she should be allowed to get comfortable with her new “voice” before we push any further. You weren’t planning on putting her in the Danger Room were you?” The Professor looked concerned.

“Nope. I’m tempted. I’d like to see what she can do when she’s pushed. But, it’s likely to do more harm than good at this point.”

“Very well then. Keep me informed.”

“Sure thing.”