"Come on, Kurt, pull out of it!" Ororo cried, clutching the edges of Cerebro's control panel as she watched him fall through the dark smoke towards the boiling lava spurting and bubbling at the bottom of the cavern. "Think yourself somewhere else!"

"You do realize he can't hear you," Xavier said dryly, although the drawn look on his wrinkled face showed he was just as worried as Ororo. "It's important that he works this out on his own. He'll get it. We just have to be patient."

"Patient!" Ororo exclaimed, incredulous. "Where's that helmet? We have to do something before--"

"There, look!" Xavier grinned in excitement, practically cheering as the scene on the monitor began to change. As it did, the screen displaying Kurt's brain patterns broke out in a burst of green, overshadowing the straight orange lines that depicted Belasco. "He's doing it! He's taking control!"

Her eyes fixed on her friend's image, Ororo held her breath as on the monitor the thick smoke slowly whitened and the atmosphere cleared until, instead of falling through a cavern, Kurt was tumbling through the clouds. The sky around him was a bright, summery blue, and flying towards him in the near distance was something that looked strangely like a sailing ship--

BAMF!

Ororo and Xavier both jumped at the sudden explosion of sulfur-scented smoke behind them. Their shocked expressions fell to annoyance, however, when they saw who was standing there.

"What are you two idiots playing at?" Azazel demanded furiously, his russet face darkening even further in his anger as he advanced towards them over Cerebro's suspended ramp. "I sent you up here to help my son, not to kill him!"

"What are you talking about?" Ororo frowned, her own anger at Azazel's blunt intrusion mingling with a sudden rush of sharp concern.

"How much stress do you think my son's system can take?" the demon glared, bearing his fangs. "No sooner does my serum complete the regeneration process and return his metabolism to normal when his heart rate and brain activity shoot off the scale! It was all your Dr. McCoy could do to keep him from going into cardiac arrest! Now I ask you again, what are you playing at?"

"Bright Goddess," Ororo gasped, the blood draining from her dusky face. "I knew I shouldn't have left him. He isn't strong enough for this! He hasn't had time to come to terms with the memories--"

"Don't start doubting him now, Ororo," Xavier spoke up, his cultured voice calm and unconcerned. "Look at this."

He nodded his head towards the flickering monitor screens on the control panel, indicating the squiggling mess of colored lines beside Kurt's image. Ororo leaned closer, her eyes widening slightly as she realized what the readings meant. A frowning Azazel leaned over her shoulder, his muscular arms crossed over his armored chest.

"What is being displayed there?" he demanded of Xavier. Charles glanced up at him with a bland look, refusing to react to the demon's belligerent attitude.

"It is a scan of Kurt's brain patterns," he explained in his most maddeningly even tone. "These ordered orange lines indicate the Belasco virus. The more organic, green lines represent Kurt himself."

"It's working," Ororo observed in amazement, a small smile brightening her wide, sapphire eyes. "The green lines are wrapping around the orange like a basket! And there are so many more of them than there were before."

"Yes, he's starting to pull himself together," Xavier nodded, "but even though he is growing stronger, the Belasco program is adapting itself to the changing environment." He looked over to Azazel, who was staring at the screen with a thoughtful expression on his face.

"If you're still planning on bringing in that telepath of yours," he said, his expression twisting ever so slightly. "I would do it soon. Even with our help, this is going to be a close fight, and I want to be sure we don't miss our opportunity to trap Belasco."

"Never fear, old man," the demon sneered. "My daughter is already here. We are ready to do our part. All we need is the correct sign from Kurt himself."

Ororo frowned up at him from her stool. "And what sign is that?" she asked. But Azazel ignored her.

"Continue your monitoring," he told them, shooting one last glance at the green and orange lines before turning on his heel with a swish of his long cloak. "Be sure to contact me if anything should go wrong. I shall be in the medical bay with my son."

And with a flaring puff of sulfurous smoke the demon was gone, leaving Xavier and Ororo alone once more to watch the battle playing out in Kurt's subconscious mind.

"Aaaooowwwww," he moaned, rubbing his throbbing head and struggling to sit up. Unconscious blue bodies were scattered all around him, all of them scantily clad in gold and bronze with red bandanas over their black hair. As he rose to his shaky feet, he realized the pirate he had landed on was a woman.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, alarmed and mortified. "I'm dreadfully sorry--"

Just then, a plaintive female voice called out from just behind his left ear, causing him to give another startled yelp as he spun around to face her. Kurt's jaw dropped and his eyes widened at the sight of her. She was a tall, stunning blonde draped in flowing cloth of white and gold. Framing her pale, aristocratic features was an elaborate golden headdress bedecked with jewels. But it was her eyes that caught and held his gaze, her wide blue eyes so full of terror and pleading that despite his own confusion and fear, Kurt's heart went out to her.

"Please sir," the woman was sobbing, "I beg you--SAVE ME!"

Her last words dissolved into a terrified shriek as she pointed over his shoulder with a trembling hand. Kurt turned his head to see a mass of angry pirates hurtling his way, cutlasses drawn and gleaming in the sunlight.

"Oh dear...," Kurt muttered to himself, forcefully shoving aside his befuddled disorientation as he scanned the deck for a fallen sword he could use as defense against the pirates.

"Kymri's down!" one of the largest of the pirates growled, his fury evident in his golden eyes.

"Have at 'im, mates!" another even burlier pirate shouted, the point of his curved blade aiming straight for Kurt's heart. "Let's do for the swine what dropped our cap'n!"

"It was an accident!" Kurt proclaimed, ducking down under the burly pirate's slashing blade and falling into a roll even as he yanked a pair of swords from the gloved hands of two unconscious pirates. A third one, he hastily plucked from a nearby scabbard with his tail. "I assure you I had no intention--!"

But the pirates were on him now and he had no spare breath for speaking. He stumbled back to avoid another powerful slash, then, while the muscular pirate was bent over, he leapt up onto his shoulders and somersaulted over the heads of his attackers to land gracefully on the deck railing.

"All right, then!" he snapped, a confident, roguish grin spreading over his shadowy features as he accepted their challenge. "Have it your way!"

Holding his three blades out with a threatening flourish, he made a daring backwards flip and kicked out with his legs, diving straight into the heart of the fight. The blue-skinned pirates were clearly aiming to gut him, but Kurt nimbly dodged their attacks, skillfully using their own momentum and size against them. Not knowing what these pirates were actually fighting for, he wasn't willing to fight to kill. So, rather than slashing back with equal fury, Kurt was careful to use his blades only to parry their powerful attacks, his acute spatial awareness allowing him to sense where the attacks would come an instant before they arrived. He only lashed out with his fists, feet, and twining tail--punching, kicking, and flipping his way into beating the pirates unconscious, using all his carefully honed agility and control until at last, he was the only man left standing.

Grinning and exhilarated from the fight, Kurt rested the sword in his tail across his shoulder and leaned rakishly against the one in his left hand, surveying the damage with more than a hint of amazement and pride.

"Now," he smiled to himself, "that's what I call a workout!"

"YOU CUR!"

Kurt blinked in surprise, startled out of savoring his unexpected victory by the sight of a strikingly beautiful blue-skinned woman dressed very scantily in red and gold body armor. He recognized her at once as the woman he had accidentally landed on, and he couldn't help but reflect that her proud, determined features were far lovelier when she was conscious. Her long, curly black hair was held back with an elaborate golden clip and a red bandana was tied around her high forehead. She was clearly a warrior, her golden eyes seething with barely contained fury as she brandished her two swords, beckoning Kurt to take her on.

"You've not won the day, paladin," she growled through clenched, white teeth, every word dripping with deadly threat. "Not 'till you've bested me!"

Kurt raised an eyebrow, noting with some concern that despite her practiced stance she had not yet recovered fully from his inopportune crash landing. She held her right arm a bit too close to her side, and her eyes kept unfocusing, as if it was only her incredible willpower that was keeping her on her feet. Kurt was filled with great respect and admiration for this young leader's bravery. He was desperate to talk with her, to find out what she was fighting for. Unfortunately, he couldn't talk to her while she was armed...

He bowed slightly to the poised warrior, then smiled slightly saying, "If you insist."

With a deft flick of his wrists, he encompassed her blades and disarmed her in less than a moment, raising the cutlass in his tail to rest just under her chin. Although she was now at his mercy, the fierce, blue-skinned woman did not cower, nor did her firm gaze waver. Kurt felt his respect for her rise several more notches.

"I want you to know I am very sorry about all the trouble my unexpected arrival has caused," he told her, hoping his sincerity was reaching her. It was impossible to tell from her stoic expression. "If I might introduce myself? Kurt Wagner by name, also known as Nightcrawler. I'm a stranger here, who'd much rather be romancing a lovely lady than dueling her."

The woman spat on the deck at his feet. "I'd sooner snuggle with a sand shark," she snapped, holding her head up high and glaring straight into his eyes. Her defiant self-assurance struck a chord in his heart, sparking a strange feeling of déjà vu. He had been in this situation before, long ago...

The realization hit him with the force of a lightening bolt. Kurt rolled his eyes, disgusted with himself for not realizing it sooner. This was a memory! The memory of an adventure he'd had years ago, back when he had been the leader of British superhero team Excalibur. His mind must have sent him here to save him from falling into that horrible lava pit of Belasco's--

Kurt gasped, suddenly alarmed. Belasco was still out there...how could he have forgotten...?

Noting the change in his expression, the female pirate began to laugh. Kurt stared in startled alarm as her narrow features began to shift, her voice deepening until, within moments, the noble Kymri had been replaced with a smirking Belasco. Catching the gaping mutant off guard, the demon snatched the cutlass from Kurt's tail and stepped in close, pressing the sharp blade against Kurt's fuzzy neck.

"You really are a sap, aren't you," he snarled, fiercely backing his defenseless half-brother against the ship's railing. "I'm going to slice you up into pieces so small even Azazel won't be able to fit you back together again!"

Kurt grimaced, leaning backwards over the railing as far as he could. Darting his eyes around the ship in desperate search of an escape route, Kurt was startled to see the sleek Imperial Cruiser was deteriorating into a nightmarish ghost ship before his very eyes, the polished metal corroding in spreading patches of peeling rust. The pirates were waking up now, their deep blue features twisting horrifically as they advanced on him with glowing eyes. Others were swarming up the masts, streaming up from the lower decks like a hoard of mindless zombies. With the chill of Belasco's blade against his neck, there was nowhere to teleport, nowhere to run. Unless...

Kurt twisted his head to peer through the clouds below the flying ship. There was no sign of land that he could see, only an endless expanse of bright, blue sky. Under normal circumstances, leaping out into that expanse could mean certain death. But these weren't normal circumstances. This was his subconscious mind they were flying through. If Belasco could alter the environment according to his will, then Kurt should be able to do so even better. All he had to do was concentrate.

Shooting Belasco a defiant grin, Kurt vanished in a puff of smoke, reappearing several feet off the ghost ship's starboard bow. To his delight, instead of tumbling helplessly through the air, Kurt landed with both feet planted firmly on a cloud, the surface of which felt as firm and smooth as a ballroom floor.

"Ha!" he shouted in triumph, pulling a thin, sharp rapier and a long dagger out of thin air. Belasco glared at him from the corroded ship, slamming his fist down on the railing in fury. Kurt laughed.

"What was that you were saying about cutting me to pieces?" he called out, flicking the rapier back and forth like a whip.

"You haven't beaten me yet, little freak," the demon growled, leaping from the ship with a roar as he lunged straight for Kurt's belly. Kurt snagged his blade, pushing it away with a graceful half-turn then coming back with a cut to Belasco's shoulder. The demon clenched his teeth in livid fury, parrying the cut so forcefully several sparks flew from their clashing blades. Using his dagger in concert with his long rapier, Kurt entrapped his half-brother's notched cutlass, forcing it down to the solid cloud at their feet, then shoving Belasco away with his shoulder. The demon stumbled and nearly fell from the cloud, his arm wheeling in alarm as he struggled to recover his balance. Kurt wasn't about to give him that chance, however. Focusing all his concentration, he dropped his weapons and held out both hands, trying his hardest to picture an iron cage clamping shut around Belasco, hoping to cut the demon off from his mind for good.

Kurt gasped with the effort, but he smiled slightly as the ghostly bars started to solidify around the snarling demon. Unfortunately, before they had a chance to coalesce, Belasco made a swift slicing motion with his hand, cutting through the insubstantial bars and leaping off the edge of the cloud. Kurt gaped, then dashed after him, thinking only of keeping Belasco in his sights as he tumbled helplessly through the air.

Just then, the clouds parted to reveal a massive, raging whirlpool swirling just below them. Belasco grinned over his shoulder, his golden eyes disturbingly wild as he straightened his back and dived straight in to the black hole at its center. Kurt had just enough time to reflect that leaping after Belasco so mindlessly might not have been the wisest course of action after all before he, too, was swallowed up by the raging blackness.

"You know that feeling you get when you're alone in the dark," it hissed. "The feeling that there's someone watching?"

The deep, ghostly voice was so faint Kurt had to strain to hear; yet at the same time it seemed to fill the room. He clenched his fists, his tail wrapped so tightly around his leg it was beginning to hurt.

"Who are you?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady and strong. "What is this place?"

But the voice didn't answer. Kurt opened his eyes to the blackness, only to leap back with a frightened yelp as a vaporous ball of pale, green light burst right in his face, leaving him in a darkness even deeper than before. Before he had a chance to recover, however, a slight, tired whimper to his left startled him so badly he nearly leapt out of his fuzzy skin. Turning quickly to face the sound, he found himself face to face with a pair of eerie, glowing eyes. These eyes were green and glassy, more like the eyes of an animal than a human. A moment later, that observation was confirmed when the creature they belonged to moved towards him on all fours, rubbing up against his legs and beating its long, fluffy tail across his knees.

"Why, you're a dog, aren't you!" Kurt exclaimed in relief, crouching down to scratch the tired, overheated canine behind its floppy ears. His accented voice sounded oddly muffled in the sweltering room. "Who's memory is this?" he wondered aloud, rising again to try to search for a door. "I don't remember ever being in a room like this."

The dog whimpered again, then started to wheeze, falling over to its side as it panted for breath. Kurt backed up against the wall in alarm, suddenly terrified that the dog had been infected with something catching. The smell of decay grew stronger as the dog's wet, gurgling pants grew ever more ghastly. At that moment, Kurt was grateful that he couldn't see.

"Mroer?"

"Yipe!"

Kurt jumped in place, clutching a hand to his pounding heart as a cat stepped out of the darkness and onto his shoulder, rubbing against his cheek before leaping down to the floor. It blinked up at him with yellow-orange eyes, squeezing between his ankles before it, too fell to the floor. Concerned, Kurt bent down to touch its soft fur, only to pull back with a shrill, horrified scream when the cat's cold flesh collapsed into an oozing pile of gore.

"What is going on!" he shouted, thoroughly terrified. "Belasco!"

"Kurt!"

Kurt jumped in surprise to hear a familiar voice. A spark flared in the corner, replacing the blackness with flickering shadows. But even the weak light provided by the cheap plastic lighter was enough to reveal the speaker to Kurt's astonished golden eyes.

"Kitty!" he exclaimed, dashing over to where the brown-haired young woman was sitting crosslegged on the filthy wooden floor. "Kätzchen! How did you get here?"

Kitty shrugged, standing up so she could look him over. "The Professor sent me," she said, meeting his eyes with a smile. "When I heard you'd come back to us, I just had to see you for myself. I've missed you Fuzzy."

Kurt smiled, his heart filling with affection for the girl as he squeezed her shoulders with both hands. "Mein Gott, Kätzchen, you look just as I remember you. It has been so long..." He sniffed, his voice growing slightly hoarse. Kitty shook her head, stepping forward for a warm, sisterly embrace.

"Come on, Fuzzy, don't get like that," she scolded gently, pulling back so she could look up at him. "We've all missed you, you know. Rachel and Jubilee and Rahne and Bobby--oh and especially Ororo." Her smile grew sly as she waited to see Kurt's response to that last observation. But Kurt hadn't even heard. He was slowly backing away, trembling visibly from hair to feet, his narrow face twisted into an expression of horror and crushing guilt. For, although she had embraced him as a healthy, spirited young woman, Kitty--his Kitty, the girl he had rescued and watched grow up--his Kitty had pulled away from him as a rotting corpse.

"Kurt?" she asked, her dry, papery brow stretching as she narrowed her lusterless eyes. "Kurt, is something the matter?"

Kurt was unable to answer, unable to do more than stare as she started towards him, lurching like a puppet with a broken string. As she moved, a clump of rotting hair peeled back from her head, taking with it a patch of thin, yellowed skin. Kurt could now see the plate of her skull, and through that the pale watery blood that was soaking through her brain. She stopped several inches in front of him, reaching out to touch his arm.

Kurt shuddered violently and pulled back, the force of his reaction sending him toppling onto an old, moldy cot hadn't noticed before.

"Ow, hey!"

The mold-spotted sheet lurched under him as the cot's disgruntled inhabitant sat up. Kurt scrambled desperately to his feet, not wanting to imagine what could be under there, only to gasp in shock a moment later as Sage's dark head poked out from under the sheet. At first glance, she seemed perfectly normal--but then she stood up, revealing the gaping wound in her belly. Kurt gasped at the grisly sight, his breath quickening as images began to flood unbidden into his brain--Sage lying in the cave in a pool of her own blood, Sage's determined smile as she pressed her modified shocking device into his hand...

"What are you doing here," she demanded angrily of Kurt, pushing past him to stand protectively in front of the peeling Kitty. The entire side of her torso was stained with blood; her uniform was stiff and dark with it. Gray-black patches of powdery mold spread from the stain all the way down to her shoes, growing in fuzzy patches up her neck and just behind her ear.

"I--I..." Kurt tried, but his throat felt constricted and he couldn't get the words out.

"You shouldn't be here!" Sage growled, glaring at him in furious accusation. "Don't you realize your presence is toxic!"

"Was?" Kurt breathed weakly, his eyes darting around in terror as more rotting figures began to emerge from the shadows beyond the weak light of Kitty's flickering lighter. "Toxic...?"

"Why don't you get outta here, Elf," Logan's gruff voice snarled viciously. Kurt's eyes widened in shock and pain to see his best friend come staggering towards him, his stony face notched and scratched, his claws broken.

"Yeah," Benny scowled darkly, his third eye leaking a thick, viscous liquid as he glared at his former leader. "Haven't you done enough already?"

Kurt's breath was coming in hitching gasps now, tears streaming down his face. He shook his head, reaching back in hopes of drawing some support from the wall behind his back, only to have his ears met by a piercing scream.

"Don't touch me!" Melinda cried in terror, dragging her scorched remains out of the corner to stand shakily behind Logan. Her once delicate, violet features were now all but unrecognizable; her slender fingers were nothing but charred bone. Kurt was nearly sick.

"Look what you've done to Kitty!" she continued, her voice filled with accusation her blistered, blackened features were unable to express. "Your touch is poison!"

"They warned me," Kitty said with a sad shake of her head, her expression empty. "But I didn't want to believe them. I couldn't... But it's true. You're cursed, Kurt."

"Cursed...?" Kurt repeated in confusion, watching in horror as Kitty crouched down beside the putrefied cat on the floor, her tendons stretching gruesomely under her parchment skin. His stomach gave a dangerous lurch when a thick, runny fluid ran off her shoulders and throat to puddle on the floor at her feet. "What--what do you mean?"

Kitty looked back up at him with whitened, cobwebby eyes. "Everything you touch gets ruined," she said darkly. "Don't think it will stop once you beat Belasco. The poison resides in your own heart."

Kurt shook his head in weak denial, his blood pounding hotly in his ears. "Nein..." he gasped hoarsely.

"Yes!" Benny retorted with an angry glare. "It wasn't Belasco who left me to die in that cave! It wasn't Belasco who chose to save himself rather than stay with his team! It was you!"

"You deserted us, Nightcrawler," Sage glowered with a toss of her mold-encrusted hair. "You. And no punishment is great enough to make up for what you've done."

"You got some gall, Elf," Logan grunted, his scarred, stony features twisted in disgust. "Flirtin' with 'Ro, challengin' Belasco for control. Did you really think you could just make all this go away? What gives you the right to go on livin' when it was because of you that the rest of us were killed?"

"You know in your heart you were never cut out to be a leader," Sage continued, her voice harsh and sharp. "You're too soft. If you'd been more like Scott or Logan the four of us might at least have gotten a proper burial. But you couldn't make the tough decision to rescue one and not the other. You waited until it was too late to save any of us. And then, you teleported away--not because it was instinct but because you were scared!"

"You're not an X-Man," Melinda spat through charred, broken teeth. "You're a coward."

"No," Kurt sobbed, sinking down into a boneless heap on the splintery, uneven floor. "No, I wanted to go back for you. I tried! But Azazel--"

"You're too old for excuses, Kurt," Sage frowned in disapproval. "Don't try to blame your father for this. You made your own choices. And now it's time for you to pay, once and for all!"

The gathered corpses muttered their agreement. Kurt cringed further back against the wall, blinded by his tears as he sobbed into his hands. The words she spoke rang with truth, slicing through the careful stitches Ororo had sewn so tenderly in his shattered heart. All the guilt and pain that had defined his existence for so long came back in a wild rush, flooding his mind with despairing blackness.

"Kurt Wagner should be consigned to the same fate he left us to," Sage shouted, holding up her rotting, moldy arms. "Oblivion! Let's help Belasco erase him once and for all!"

Almost as one, the festering corpses raised their arms and advanced on the sobbing, trembling Kurt, their moaning threats and accusations swelling to fill the shadowy room. Kurt lowered his head, curling into a ball of hopeless shame.

"Nein," he sniffled softly against his knees in a last ditch attempt at self-preservation, his accented voice thick and hoarse with tears. "No, it isn't real. This can't be real!"

But the roaring zombies were closing in, their putrid stench burning his nostrils, stinging his throat. Kurt looked up in horror, crossing his arms protectively before his face as he screamed, "This isn't real! None of you are real! Belasco! Belasco, get me out of here!"

But there was no response. He was alone, alone with a hoard of rotting corpses intent on tearing him apart. Closing his eyes to block out their shuffling feet, he actually felt himself give up. His tears were now flowing with regret, not fear: regret for Ororo, regret for himself. He had come close, so close to redemption. But in the end, he just wasn't strong enough, just as Belasco hadn't been strong enough to save his Beatrice from Azazel.

The zombies were closing in now, but Kurt didn't care. He welcomed oblivion. Let Belasco win. Let him have his body. It would never bring him happiness. Only another lifetime of pain and disappointment. Kitty had been right. Even if he did defeat Belasco, nothing would change. Responsible or not, he would still carry the pain of his teammates' deaths in his heart for the rest of his life, a pain that would poison his relationships with the X-Men, twisting their friendship into something colder, more cautious. Eventually, even Ororo would end up hurt. He deserved to die at the hands of his team. It was better to endure the zombies' wrath than to end up letting down the only woman he had ever truly loved.

"If you love her so much, why don't you break your way out of this you big Dummkopf! These zombies are no match for the Incredible Nightcrawler!"

"Who is that?" Kurt asked blearily, his voice muffled by the groaning zombies all around him, pummeling at his back and sides. "Who's that talking?"

The little voice sighed in exasperation. "If you don't know, I'm not going to tell you," he said. "Now get out of there! Schnell! Before you get us both wiped from existence!"

"But...but how?" Kurt asked weakly.

"Duh!" the little voice frowned. "Just stand up!"

Kurt shook his head. "I can't," he mumbled, hissing in pain as Melinda poked him maliciously in the eye with a bony finger. "I deserve to suffer."

The voice groaned in exasperation. "If there's one thing I can't stand," he said, "it's martyrdom. Especially when it's completely unnecessary, not to mention selfish!"

"Selfish?" Kurt frowned, gasping when the stump of Logan's stone claw jabbed him in the side.

"Yeah, that's right," the voice snapped. "Selfish! Do you have any idea how much trouble your friends are going through on your behalf right now? Do you have any idea how much they're risking to save you? Jean Grey almost lost her mind holding Belasco back, giving you time to pull yourself together. And what about Ororo? She loves you, you idiot. How do you think she'd feel if after all you've put her through, you just sat here and let yourself die?"

"I never thought of it that way," Kurt said, wincing sharply as Sage scratched his arm with her long, yellowed nails, drawing blood.

"Look at it from her point of view," the voice said. "She's already lost you once. Do you really want to put her through that again, after all she's done for you?"

"What...what do I have to do?" Kurt asked, starting to struggle against the suffocating pile of reeking corpses beating and battering his body.

"Cage Belasco," the voice told him simply. "Shut him down once and for all. Take back control of the life that is rightfully yours."

"It's Belasco controlling these zombies, isn't it," Kurt realized, his rising anger at how easily he'd been manipulated beginning to force back the blackness clouding his thoughts. "Why didn't I see it before?"

"Good question," the voice said dryly. "Now move your tail! You're closer to the goal than you think."

Kurt nodded firmly, determination pumping strength back into his heavy limbs as he pushed up against the zombies, scattering them like rag dolls as he leapt to his feet. As he watched in astonishment mingled with deep pity, the horrible corpses crumbled into a fine, powdery dust that was quickly blown away by a fresh, cooling breeze.

"There now," the voice said approvingly from somewhere at Kurt's left. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"Who are you?" Kurt asked again, squinting his night-adapted eyes as a ray of bright sunlight filtered its way into the room. As Kurt watched in amazement, the rough, cobwebby walls and rotted rafters faded slowly away, to be replaced instead with a rolling mountain landscape scented with pine mingled with the distinctive smell of centuries upon centuries of grazing goats. Below him in the near distance, a large Ferris wheel turned slowly above the treetops, accompanied by the flagpoles of several brightly colored tents. Kurt gasped in instant recognition. They were less than a mile away from his old circus!

The little voice seemed to smirk as he replied at last to his question. "I'm you of course," he said. "The part of you that knows better than to fall for such an obvious ploy. Gut Gott, man, Belasco was playing you like a harp and you were actually letting him! Though I will admit, that was a low blow. Belasco is one sick puppy, that's for sure."

Kurt furrowed his brow. "Why can't I see you?" he asked curiously, turning slowly in a complete circle.

"Look up!"

Kurt did, only to laugh out loud when he saw what looked to be a fourteen-year-old version of himself hanging by his tail from a tree branch. The young teenager shot him a toothy smile, then teleported from the tree to his side with a double BAMF of sulfurous smoke.

"You're welcome, by the way," he said with a cheeky grin. "And before you ask, Belasco isn't here. At least, not yet."

The boy gave him a pointed wink, nodding his curly head towards the colorful tents in the distance. Kurt's eyes opened wide as he suddenly realized what his younger self was suggesting.

"Kurt Wagner, you're a genius," he told him with a grin, his sharp eyes already seeking out his foster mother's ancient purple trailer. The boy graced him with a playful bow.

"Cage the bastard for me, will ya," he said as he straightened. "I really like that Ororo lady."

Kurt raised an eyebrow, then chuckled. "So glad you approve," he said, shooting the boy a genuinely grateful smile before BAMFing away.

Kurt reappeared in the clearing beside the vibrantly painted wooden trailer his foster mother, Margali Szardos, had always used as her office/workshop just in time to see a teenaged girl dressed in a tight, pink leotard come running out of the main tent. She stopped short when she saw him, her mouth hanging open and her blue eyes unnaturally wide.

"No way," she said, shaking her head in frightened denial. "There's no way I'm seeing what I think I'm seeing. Kurt...Kurt is that really you?"

Kurt winced at the expression on his foster sister's face, realizing his mistake at once. He had seen the boy in the forest, and so had pictured his old circus the way it had been when he was fourteen. But at this time, Margali was still a fortune-teller whose passion for sorcery was little more than a hobby. What he needed for his forming idea to work was a skilled sorceress powerful enough to successfully perform a spell of summoning. That meant he would have to age this circus at least five years--but how?

Amanda was approaching him now, her expression appraising as she tentatively reached out a hand, although she stopped before she actually touched him.

"Wow," she said, her eyes wide with wonder. "Who knew my scrawny foster brother would grow up to be so hot? How did this happen, Kurt? Were you poking around in Mom's spell books or something?"

Kurt rolled his eyes to the heavens, knowing she was just a figment of memory mingled with his subconscious imagination but feeling the need to apologize to her just the same.

"I'm sorry, Jimaine," he said hurriedly, "but I don't have time to explain right now. I have to figure out--"

"Oh no, not you too!" the sixteen-year-old cut him off, her voice shrill with frustration. "How many times do I have to tell everyone: my name is AMANDA! Amanda, get it?"

Kurt sighed, gritting his teeth. He really didn't have time for this. Holding out his hand, he concentrated as hard as he could on consciously picturing his foster sister as she had been at twenty-one. For a seemingly endless moment, nothing happened. Then, slowly, Jimaine began to change. Right before his astonished eyes, his foster sister grew from a pretty teenager to a stunning young adult. The length of her ponytail shortened from her lower back to just below her shoulders, and her pink leotard morphed into the familiar red and black costume with the pointed shoulders that the two of them had worn for their joint act.

Lowering his arm, Kurt took a moment to catch his breath, delighted with his success. Amanda was now looking around in confusion, clearly disorientated.

"Don't worry, Amanda," he said, focusing his concentration with all his might. "I'll have the rest of the circus caught up with you in a moment."

Maybe it was his success with Jimaine, or maybe he was just getting better at controlling his subconscious mind, but bringing his circus five years into the future was actually easier than he had expected. Looking around at the colorful new tents and shiny trailers that now filled the large clearing, Kurt quickly scanned for his foster mother's familiar purple trailer, spotting it at last on the outskirts of the camp. Leaving the befuddled Amanda to sort herself out, Kurt teleported directly to the trailer's open door, praying that his activities had not yet tipped Belasco off to his plan.

"Mom!" he called as he dashed up the stairs and into the trailer. "Mama, I need your help."

Margali looked up from her book, her sharp violet eyes glittering under the maroon kerchief that covered her frizzy, graying hair.

"What kind of help are we talking about?" she asked, slowly placing a bookmark on the page she'd been reading and closing the thick, leather-bound tome. "If this is about tonight's show--"

"No, no, it has nothing to do with the show," Kurt said quickly, leaning forward with his palms pressed against her multi-stained, round table as he caught her confused eyes with his desperate ones. "I need you to help me trap a demon."

"There," Kurt said, joining the two ends of the circle with a flourish of his wrist. "How's that?"

Margali tilted her head, considering. "Looks about right," she said after a long moment. "Now I need you to place these candles where each point of the star meets the circle." She pointed to five thick blood-red candles standing in a huddled row at the far end of one of her bookshelves.

"Got it," Kurt nodded, hurrying to do as he was told. He could feel his time growing short. His plan depended on catching Belasco by surprise. If the demon were to find him first, all his efforts here would be for nothing.

"Good," Margali nodded once the candles were in place. "Very good. Now, just push this cauldron into the center of the pentagram and we'll be ready to begin."

The large, black cauldron was far heavier than Kurt had expected, but somehow he managed to shove it into place without smudging a single line of the chalk pentagram he'd drawn. Standing back from the prepared space, he watched anxiously as Margali read through the spell of summoning once more, then raised her arms with a sudden shout.

A gust of cold wind blew through the ancient trailer, rattling the objects on their shelves. As it passed, the five red candles burst into flames as red as rubies and the empty cauldron began to hiss and steam. Closing her violet eyes, Margali started to chant, softly at first and then with growing intensity and volume, rocking her slender body back and forth as she held her arms out towards the flickering light from the candles.

Kurt stared at his entranced foster mother in growing alarm, but before he could think to say anything, Margali cut him off.

"Don't look at me!" she scolded him, her eyes still closed with concentration. "Watch the cauldron. This spell will not succeed without belief. You must believe your demon will appear there, or he will not."

Kurt nodded, fixing his gaze on the smoking cauldron as Margali resumed her chant.

Ginniyeh tilted her bald head, her scarred, sightless eyes turned in the direction of her father's voice. "Is it time for me to enter, father?" she hissed in her serpentine voice, an anticipatory smile spreading slowly over her pale features.

"Soon, my daughter," Azazel assured her, sharing a look with Mephisto across Kurt's prone body. A delicate sensor was positioned just over the unconscious mutant's forehead, the shadow it cast making his short, velvety fur seem almost black. "Very soon. I will give you the signal when the time is right."

"The final sensor is in place," Mephisto announced, his golden eyes fixed on the readouts flashing across the monitor of Dr. McCoy's laboratory computer. "Storage disk formatted and ready to receive data."

"Very good," Azazel smiled, his sharp fangs glinting in the florescent light of the medbay. "You have done well, my son. Doctor!"

Hank turned, apologizing to Scott as he reluctantly excused himself from his examination of Jean, who had only just started to regain consciousness after her own ordeal with Belasco.

"Yes?" the large mutant asked in concern, crossing the room with great, loping strides. "What's happened?"

"Nothing yet," the demon replied curtly, "but the next few minutes will be critical. I need you to keep a sharp eye on the monitors. If there is even the smallest change in my son's condition, I want to know immediately. Understand?"

McCoy ground his teeth, but swallowed his retort when his eyes fell on Kurt. The change in him was truly remarkable. Whatever else he had done, there was no denying that Azazel had been true to his word in this case. Kurt now looked just as Hank remembered him. A bit thinner, perhaps, his cheeks slightly more hollowed, but that was only to be expected. Even his arm had been restored, the bone and flesh having regenerated in a matter of mere hours after Mephisto and Azazel had administered their formula. Although Hank knew it had been inspired in part by his own experiments with genetic manipulation, he had been stunned to see the effects of the demons' elixir in practice. The science they'd used was so far in advance of anything he knew, it might as well have been magic--an observation the brilliant doctor would be loathe to admit aloud.

Still, the results of the demons' efforts were undeniable. If they truly could repair his friend's mind as skillfully as they had restored his body, Hank was ready to do whatever they asked--no matter how obnoxious or irritating he might find them.

"I'm on it," he said, keeping his tone professional as he took up his post before the wall of beeping machines they had hooked up to monitor Kurt. As Azazel turned back to his own work, supervising the others, Hank brought a casual hand to the comm device at his belt. If everything worked out as planned, Kurt would be regaining consciousness relatively soon. And when he did, Hank wanted to be sure that Ororo would be there to finally welcome him home.

Suddenly, the fog was pierced by a flash of thin, blue lightening shooting up from the bubbling kettle. The thick, reddish steam began to roll slowly around the room, picking up speed as it gradually condensed into a dense, crackling cloud hovering just over the cauldron. Margali's chants rose to a wild crescendo as the slowly revolving pillar of steam started to distort and bend, as though something was trapped inside, fighting to get out. An unearthly chorus of shrieks and yowls roared up from the twisting cloud, joining with Margali's shouts as the chalk pentagram began to glow with a strange, pale light. Kurt's breath caught in his throat as a sudden thrill of fear shadowed his mind, whispering that he was no match against the power of Belasco's wrath. He took an involuntary step back from the writhing form coalescing within the blackening steam, his hands trembling and his shoulders stooping under the weight of his crushing doubt.

"Get back here, Kurt!" Margali's sharp voice broke through the taunting whispers that were spinning through his mind, sapping his spirit. "Your are allowing this demon to manipulate your fears. Now is the time to think with your head, not your heart!"

"But...but I can't hold him, Mama," Kurt gasped, his head pounding with the pressure of myriad conflicting thoughts and emotions, all of them threatening to pull him down to a swirling madness he could not fight. "He's stronger than I am...he has always been stronger..."

"Open your eyes!" Margali demanded, pointing a long, blood-red nail towards the solidifying figure floating above the cauldron. "See the truth! It is your belief that keeps your demon trapped within the pentagram. It is your doubt that will set him free!"

Kurt lifted his head, the reddish steam stinging his eyes and blurring his vision as he forced himself to take a shuffling step forward. Belasco was snarling at him from within the smoky cloud, his thin lips moving in a silent chant as he projected thoughts of hate and horror Kurt's way.

At that moment, Kurt knew his foster mother was right. Belasco was trapped, helpless to escape the circle of chalk. His plan had worked! A surge of triumph filled him at the sight, his eyes brightening and his posture straightening as he turned an excited smile towards Margali.

But his foster mother was no longer there. Kurt's look of confusion was quickly replaced by a huge grin as he realized his subconscious had instead summoned the image of the only person he truly wanted to share this moment with. Her deceptively delicate features were glowing with pride as she took a step towards him, sliding a loving hand up his back to rest supportively on his shoulder.

"Now, Kurt," Ororo told him, her crystal blue eyes sharp as she turned an almost predatory glare towards the struggling Belasco. "Do it now!"

"It will be my pleasure," Kurt assured her lightly, his face taking on a look of intense concentration as he stretched out his arms. The mere feel of Ororo's presence at his side banished any lingering wisps of doubt that he was not strong enough to trap Belasco for good. Fueled by her love and the confidence it inspired, Kurt transformed the dusky smoke that still swirled above the cauldron into a thick, metal cage without a door, cutting off Belasco's influence once and for all. Even the demon's sputtering curses were silenced as the cage crashed to the floor, the reverberation extending out beyond the cramped, purple trailer to be reflected in the subtly altered rhythms of the monitoring devices that surrounded Kurt's bed...

"There's been a change in--" Dr. McCoy started, but his report was cut off by Azazel's triumphant shout.

"Ha ha!" the demon crowed, his golden eyes glowing so fiercely it was almost frightening to behold. "He's done it! Ginniyeh, quickly!"

With sure, practiced movements, Mephisto guided his blind sister's hand until her bony fingers were brushing Kurt's temple. The bald telepath pursed her lips, her concentration complete as she reached down into Kurt's mind...

"Wait!" Kurt shouted, running a few steps forward. "What's going on? Where are you taking him?"

The hand paused. Then, much to Kurt's alarm, a disembodied head faded into view. It was the head of a woman possessed of a stern, old-fashioned beauty. Her pale, slender features were framed by soft, dark curls and her large eyes were of the deepest blue.

"My name is Ginniyeh," the head intoned, her low voice causing his brain to rattle uncomfortably in his skull. "I have been sent by our father to extract the Belasco program from your mind. The retrieved data will be placed on a storage disk until such time as our father once again requires its services."

"Services?" Kurt repeated with a frown. "Wait, do you mean--"

"No questions," the floating head glared angrily, her eyes hard and cold. "Be satisfied to know that you have achieved the impossible. No one before has ever recovered from one of my mental wipes. And none will again, that I swear."

As she spoke, her features began to fade, slowly dissolving before Kurt's thoroughly unsettled gaze until only her steely eyes remained. "You are to sleep now, Kurt Wagner," Ginniyeh ordered, her serpentine voice seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere, enveloping his thoughts with her will. "When you wake, your mind will be healed. But I warn you now, brother, if our paths should ever cross again no one will be able to shield you from my vengeance. Not even Azazel."

And with that promise, the cruel eyes vanished, along with Belasco's cage. For a moment, Kurt felt a sensation of indescribable lightness tingling right in the center of his brain. Then, suddenly, his world gave a sickening lurch, spinning woozily before everything snapped to black...

While he was still too weak to be moved, Ororo made a point of sticking by his side day and night, only leaving to teach the odd class or to bring his meals. At first things were awkward between them. For Kurt, everything that had happened in his mind was somewhat unclear, like a dream he could only half-remember, or even believe. The Professor assured them both that such memory loss was perfectly natural and even expected. What Kurt did recall, however, was how brave Ororo had been to approach him in that schizoid state up on the roof of the cathedral, and how she had been there to support him at the end, holding his hand through the worst of his ordeal. Her face had been the first thing he'd seen upon regaining consciousness. In the haze of bright florescent light from the medbay's metallic ceiling, she had seemed an angel to his exhausted eyes, her snowy hair shining like a halo around her and her smile alight with joy when she saw he was awake at last. It had been the most touchingly beautiful sight he had ever seen, the emotion in her smile leaving him completely at a loss for words.

Their shyness with each other had quickly faded, however, and between visits from old friends and introductions to new ones, the two of them had become closer than ever. When Hank finally declared that Kurt was strong enough to leave the medbay and move into a room of his own, Ororo was there to help him take his first steps on his newly restored feet. And when Professor Xavier called an assembly of the entire school to officially welcome him back to the team, Ororo was at his side, her eyes glowing with pride when the packed auditorium rose to their collective feet to give him a standing ovation.

Now, they stood together in the darkened greenhouse, the light of the half-moon filtering through the leaves of the fig tree they had planted so many, many years before. His nervous eyes fixed on hers, Kurt slowly sank to one knee, somehow finding the courage to ask her the question that had been burning in his heart since before he'd ever heard the name Belasco.

Ororo stared for a long moment, then pulled Kurt back to his feet. The pallid light on her face brought tears to his eyes as she nodded somberly, then ran into his arms, whispering her acceptance over and over again in his pointed, blue ear. Pulling back gently, Kurt held out the ring he'd been concealing in the spade of his tail and slipped it on her finger. Catching her tearing eyes with his, he touched the shining silver of her hair with tender fingers and her gentle smile banished any lingering doubts from his heart. There was no need for words as the soft breeze from the open doors rustled the leaves above their heads, drawing them closer until their lips finally met.

This kiss was the delicate droplet that heralded the rising flood; the rich scent of rain before the storm. It was an instant of perfect joy, clear and sharp and warm. Their tears mingled as they fell, their breaths laced with laughter as the full realization of their victory at last hit home. Spurred by Ororo's dedication and love, Kurt Wagner had finally found his redemption. His Beatrice had guided him home.