(no subject)

[x-beast.livejournal.com]

Hank finds Kurt brooding, and they talk a little about the mission to Youra. Hank offers an understanding ear, and talks a little about his own origins.




Hank had been looking for Kyle, up in some of his favourite climbing trees, but it was Kurt he found first, perched on a branch with his tail curled around it, an unhappy, reflective look on his face. "Good morning," Hank called up to him, resting a large hand on the trunk. "Well, morning, anyway. You don't seem to be feeling very good about it, just now."

Kurt blinked, startled out of thought, and peered down. "Hello. I did not hear you coming."

"I can actually be quiet when I'm not talking," Hank agreed, smiling. "Something that constantly surprises people." He looked up at the younger man and his smile faded a little. "Lost in thought, huh?" he said softly. "I think I can guess the general time period your thoughts occupy..."

Kurt gave him a wry smile, choosing not to come down from his tree just yet. "If you are thinking of Youra... yes."

Hank nodded. "Would you like to talk about it?" he asked, eyeing the broad branch just above his head. It looked sturdy enough to hold him... He swung up onto it, mindful of his bad leg, and it creaked a little but held. Good. "I've been doing this for a long time. The X-Men thing, I mean."

Kurt considered this, then nodded. "I think perhaps... yes. I have been to my priest, and to the Professor, but someone who knows it from the ground..."

Hank nodded. "I have been fighting the good fight, on and off, since I was eighteen," he said, sitting on his branch and leaning back against the trunk of the tree. "Youra was... about the worst fight I've ever been in, but it wasn't the first major confrontation, for me, and I doubt it will be the last."

Kurt, perched on a higher branch, looked down at him and admitted quietly, "I am no longer sure this is the right path for me."

Hank nodded. "We all go through that, I think, at some point," he said slowly. "Wonder if we've made the right choice. Something happened, I take it, to make you wonder.... may I ask what it is?"

"I did something", Kurt answered slowly, "that I would not have believed myself capable of, when I was just a circus acrobat. Nor would I have wanted to."

Hank nodded. "An act of violence, I presume," he said softly. "How bad?"

"Bad", Kurt answered flatly. "I think I very probably killed the man I was fighting."

Hank winced and nodded again. "The first time you've done so?" he asked sympathetically. That was always the hardest, the first time it happened....

Kurt nodded silently. "I have seen death before, of course - even before I was on the teams, it was a circus, accidents happened, and so did illness and old age, but at my hand..."

"It's very different, then," Hank agreed. "I know the feeling. In my case, the first time was entirely accidental, but... it still hit me very hard." He extended a long arm to pat Kurt's hand as it rested on the branch beside him.

Kurt managed a faint smile of thanks at the gesture, but it quickly faded. "It is not just that... the circumstances, as well."

Hank made a quiet, affirmative noise, glancing out at the grounds. "If you don't want to talk about it, I'll understand... but it might help, if you did. I'd be willing to listen."

"Do you know how I came to be in the mansion?"

Hank nodded. "I was told.... you were mind-controlled, and sent to assassinate the President. I can only imagine how terrifying it must have been."

Kurt nodded, staring out across the grounds. "I believe I was meant to die in the White House, and that it would not have mattered much whether or not I achieved my set task first. If the President's guard had not aimed for my shoulder..."

"And if you hadn't moved as fast as you did..." Hank nodded. "And you feel a.... sympathy, with the second-gens? Having been used as a weapon against your will yourself..."

"Yes. With all the Mistra operatives, really, but especially with the second gens. The first, as we have seen, did not have the final trigger to remove all trace of free will, as the second gens did."

Hank patted his hand again. "I can only imagine how hard it must have been, facing that," he said sympathetically. "I... had more trouble sympathizing with them, I admit. I spent a lot of the time we were there trying to repair the damage they inflicted on others... which was extensive, to say the least."

Kurt looked down, and admitted quietly, "I came here two years ago to make amends for what I did and was almost made to do by William Stryker. And now I may well have killed a man who had no more control over his actions than I did. I..."

"Was it necessary?" Hank asked quietly. "To save another life, or lives? I am a physician, but I have killed, for that reason. And I would again, if I had no other recourse, although I would regret the necessity."

"At the time, it seemed so. Now... I am not so certain there was absolutely no other way. He was already crippled, Madelyn shot him in the knee..."

Madelyn. Hank took a deep breath, trying to keep the minor heart attack at realizing how much danger she'd been in quiet. "If it was the only way you could think of to stop him, to keep him from hurting both you and Madelyn, then at the time it was the only way. You didn't have time to bring in a panel of experts, after all, to discuss other options..."

Kurt nodded sadly. "That much, I know is true. But I wish... and there comes the doubt."

Hank patted his hand again. "I know the feeling. And it's hard." He sighed. "I don't know if it's a good thing or a bad one that it does get easier."

"I have been considering going home, at least for a while."

"That might help. Being with your family, when you're unhappy, always helps." Hank smiled. "I still go home to the farm sometimes."

Kurt looked down at him curiously. "You are from a farm? I do not think I knew that."

"An ordinary little farm in the midwest," Hank said, smiling a little. "I come from a very ordinary, small town, in which I was the only known mutant for many years. I was born with physical mutations - the big hands and feet, and odd body shape. The fur came later." He shrugged. "I got teased, of course, but... sad though it is, twenty years ago was 'the good old days' as far as mutants are concerned. There were no screaming mobs or 'mutant hysteria' back then. I was even allowed to play on the high-school football team without anyone complaining about unfair advantages."

Kurt nodded. "I have looked as I do for as long as I can remember. The clan sheltered me as best they could."

"My parents did the same for me." He smiled. "And... well, we blue fellows should stick together, shouldn't we? I'll be happy to listen, any time you feel like talking." Damnit. Having a suspected rival for Madelyn's potential affections would be much easier if he didn't like the man so much.

"Thank you", Kurt answered softly. "I will remember."