Very much NSFW fic continued from yesterday:
Fracture Thirty: Adventures Part 2
Kurt dropped Matthews on the ground. He turned and embraced the little girl. “It’s okay, liebe. I’m here. Shhh… shhh… Did they hurt you?”
She shook her head.
“Scare you?”
Nod.
“It’s okay, now, Bluebelle. I’m here.”
His chicken, having exhausted the food properties of Duncan Matthews' head, decided to use him for a toilet.
“Damn, that’s one finely-trained bird, yo,” said Todd.
“*Goood* Mr Peeper,” cooed Tabitha. “*Nice* Mr Peeper… Do doody again…”
“Woahwoahwoah, waitasecond, waitasecond…” Lance held up a hand. "*You* are *that* kid’s Daddy?“
"What, bein’ a Mom weren’t enough for ya?” said Fred.
Kurt sighed. “You remember Frau Rosafarben?” he said. “I’m part of the reason why she’s now in jail.”
“*Damn*,” said Lance. “You *dog*…”
Kurt glared at him. “It wasn’t sexual conquest, it was rape, du Scheissekopf. Hess had her locked in a basement all her life.” He picked her up and she buried her face in his shoulder.
Tabby’s face fell. “Oh shit,” she breathed. “Oh Blue, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know…”
“Leave my daughter alone,” he said and, chicken trailing after him, he left.
“Guys?” suggested Pietro. “I -uh- *think* it might be wise to get outta here before Matthews comes around.”
“Why?” said Fred.
“Because blue-boy’s bird also shat on his shirt, yo,” said Todd.
*
Scott took one look at Kurt and summed up the entire situation. “Uh oh.”
Everyone else looked. He was carrying Bluebelle and looking ticked off at the world at large. The effect was spoiled by Mr Peeper flapping in an effort to keep up. When he got closer, they could hear the little girl crying.
“Okay, what happened?” asked Evan.
“Just a scare, thank Gott,” Kurt sat, and placed Bluebelle between himself and Kitty. “See, liebe? You’re among friends, now. No need to cry, ja?”
“Ohboy,” Jean pointed. “Looks like we’ve got some unwanted attention.”
Kitty turned on her force ten smile. “Like, hi Principal Kelly!”
He was not in a good mood. “Why is it,” he wondered, “that whenever something bizarre happens, I find you Institute kids, or those boarding house kids *right* in the thick of it?”
“Fate?” suggested Kurt.
“Karma?” Kitty grinned.
“Bad luck?” said Evan.
“Co-incidence?” hinted Scott.
“Cosmic disharmony?” said Rogue.
“Enough of the comedy,” said Principal Kelly. “You and your–” he shuddered, “–daughter; come to my office.”
“Can we stop at the cafeteria and get her something to eat, mein Herr?” Kurt asked. “I don’t think she’s had lunch. Have you had lunch, liebe?”
Bluebelle shook her head.
“You *can’t* let her go hungry, sir,” said Evan, who was busy feeding his chicken. “That’d be irresponsible.”
“Rrrr,” said Principal Kelly. “*Fine*…”
*
Bluebelle had apparently inherited her father’s appetite. She'd ordered a quarter of the cafeteria menu and was still busily stuffing her face with her selection. The cafeteria staff had refused to let any of their crockery or cutlery out of their sight, so they’d set up a little meeting at one of the tables.
Despite her appalling lack of colour sense, her appetite and attitude, she was still a cute kid. And the further away from Bayville she went, the cuter she was.
“Now, Kurt,” Kelly began. “Obviously disturbances such as this can't be allowed to continue. Especially given Bluebelle’s -er- highly strung nature.”
“She’s okay, mein Herr,” said Kurt. “As long as nobody tries to touch her. It’s an abuse thing.”
Kelly’s left eye began to twitch again. The last thing he needed right now was a reminder of his disastrous employee choices.
“…is he sick, daddy?” Bluebelle’s voice was barely above a whisper.
“You all right, mein Herr? That eye should be looked at.”
Kurt’s pet chicken started to attack his shoelace.
_What on *Earth* posessed me to give the students chickens as part of Sex Ed? Oh yes. Todd Tolenski, Fred Dukes, Pietro Maximov, Tabitha Smith and Lance Alvers going beserk about eggs being posessed… For *seven* *days*…_ Damn _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ to the lowest Hell that Hades had.
“My *eye* would be *fine*,” Kelly said. “If things would just carry on *normally* for just *one* week. Seven days. That’s all I ask. Seven days of normalicy. That’s not too much to ask, is it?”
“Perhaps not,” said Kurt. “But since ‘normalicy’ is defined as conformity with the 'norm’, and 'norm’ is a standard or model or pattern that’s regarded as typical, then you’re essentially wishing for more of the same.”
“…huh?” said Kelly.
“Well, it’s like this. Wierd things happen all the time in Bayville. Therefore, weird stuff is 'normal’. Ergo, wishing for normalicy is wishing for more weirdness. You should wish for weirdness instead.”
He could feel the headaches starting again. “Just keep your daughter at home. Except when she should be going to *her* school?”
“I’ll try, mein Herr.”
“…are you mad?”
Twitch twitch twitchetty twitch twitch twitch. _Maybe I’d be better off wishing the Institute and the boarding house never existed…_ "Just,“ twitch. "Upset. Honey.”
“And you thought *Bluebelle* was highly-strung. You should take a holiday.”
Twitch. _YES! A nice little holiday somewhere serene and peaceful. Like Dante’s Peak…_ “Just get her home and make sure she *stays* there, this time,” he whimpered. The chicken was killing his socks.
“All done?” Kurt asked Bluebelle. She nodded. He produced a paper napkin out of nowhere and cleaned her up, then took her hand and lead her away.
The chicken, thankfully, followed him.
_Next year,_ he thought, _I’m giving them SimBabies. I don’t *CARE* how much it costs, it *has* to be less trouble than this…_
*
“Hello Kurt. I gather you found Bluebelle.”
“Er. She found me. Sort of.” Kurt sounded as if he were stifling a laugh. “She found her way to the High School all by herself.”
Xavier pinched his nose. “Oh dear…”
“She got tired of waiting for someone to spend time with her, so she decided to spend a little time herself.”
“And nothing - untoward occurred?”
“Nein. We just had a little scare.” Now his grin transmitted down the 'phone line. “Bluebelle managed to scare the entire Brotherhood.”
He sighed. “I’ll send Ororo over and ensure Hank begins a remedial education program.”
“Sure thing. I’ll be waiting by the gate.”
*
She couldn’t believe her luck. He was there, with only a child for a witness. Just standing there, out in the open. All he needed was a big sign reading 'Take me’.
Hilde quelled her instincts. Bruna had given her instructions, and she knew what would happen if those instructions were disobeyed.
The last thing they needed was more attention.
But, oh, the boy was so sweet in bed…
Enough. She had to do what she came to do.
Package in hand, tag around her neck, she left her car and crossed the road. She schooled her face into a look of nervous hope.
“Kurt Wagner?” she asked. “One of Hess’ survivors?”
His eyes flicked to the tag. “Jawohl, meine Dame.”
She caught him up in the embrace before he could say another word. The package slid into the waistband of his trousers, leaving her fingers free to find the pressure points she knew so well.
He didn’t know her face, but he knew her smell. She could feel him stiffen. Her lips found his ear.
“Erinnern Sie sich, an wem Sie bildete,” she whispered. “Erinnern Sie sich, an was Sie sind. Erinnern Sie, an wem Sie gehoren.”
She kissed him, and he went limp. Ah, Ragdoll. His first line of defense.
Hilde sat him down, propping him against the stone post of the school’s gateway, and then she walked away. Leaving the child crying for her father.
She could have had them both. Like that. But that wasn’t the point. The point was to sabotage his testimony.
*
Ororo found him by the gate, but he wasn’t waiting. He was - well - away. RagDoll seemed to be at the helm.
Bluebelle was upset and crying. Afraid to touch him.
“Aunty O?” the little girl risked. “Please fix him?”
_But - Hess is in *prison*…_
