DISCLAIMER: I don't own
the X-Men or any of their multiple incarnations. Please don't sue me or
steal my story!
NOTE:
In Italian, Beatrice is pronounced Bee-a-TREECH-eh. Since the great
Dante wrote his Inferno in Italian, I would guess Belasco would say the
name with the Italian pronounciation.
NOTE II: The opening
speech (from "There..." to "What about Kurt Wagner?" ) is quoted
directly from Universe X Volume 2. The descriptions in between those
quotes and everything that follows is mine (except the characters
themselves, of course. Those are Marvel's).
Chapter Eight
Charles Xavier was renowned as the foremost telepath in the world.
Needless to say, he was familiar with the workings of individual minds
and
how to safely navigate his way through their myriad thoughts, desires,
and
memories without losing his own identity and purpose. However, even he
with all his vast experience found himself instantly lost the moment he
entered the raging chaos that had overtaken the mind of the man with
whom
he had just linked.
The noise and light and color was overwhelming as it pressed against
his
psychic presence, rushing by him in a raging gust that left him reeling
and
off balance. The closest thing to which he could compare the
disorienting
experience was viewing a moving carousel at night through an unfocused
camera lens. Brief flashes of faces flew past—laughing, screaming,
gentle,
terrified, cold, cruel, furious, anguished, shining with love... They
were
the faces of strangers and friends, each flash accompanied by a sharp
pang
of loss, sorrow, or hurt.
Xavier gasped, struggling to pull himself out of the crushing throng,
to
rise above the swirling colors. He tried to calm himself, to focus his
concentration, but there was no opportunity. Voices came from nowhere
and
everywhere, speaking in a cacophony of different languages. Fleeting
images and turbulent emotions vied for his attention, slipping around
and
through him like ghostly specters. The images pummeled him, knocking
him
back, then forward, then to the side, pressing up against him then
vanishing into nothingness.
It was so easy to get lost there, so easy to lose his purpose. His
focus
was fractured, his thoughts muddled and unclear. Half smothered and
desperate to catch his breath, Xavier suddenly found himself falling.
Without warning, the surreal lights, the laughter, the screams, and the
ghostly faces battering his psyche disappeared, leaving Xavier to
tumble
helplessly through whirling landscapes and buildings, mountains and
fire
and blackness, dank dungeons, bustling cities, and quiet rooms. The
light
of the sun and stars, the chill of the pale moon, incredible heat and
biting cold assaulted his senses, spinning him dizzily until he had
lost
all sense of direction.
Disembodied and terrified, Xavier curled his psychic self into a
protective
ball, squeezing his arms against his ears as he laced his fingers
tightly
behind his bald head. A strange prickling, tingling sensation began to
creep along the edges of his mind, like a million tiny insects crawling
their way through the growing cracks in his mental shields. Xavier
opened
his eyes wide in horror, his mouth stretching until the delicate skin
of
his lips nearly broke with the strain of his silent scream. He was
lost,
alone; trapped in the mind of a madman with no body to ground him and
no
way out. His shields were crumbling, his sense of identity growing
weaker
as he continued to fall. Xavier was truly in danger of losing himself
forever.
At that realization, all pretense of rational thought left him. Without
any consideration for the potential danger to himself or to Kurt,
Xavier
instinctively gave in to the whispering need to deepen the mental link
until he could feel the stabilizing influence of his host's body
pulsing
around him. The heartbeat was fast but steady, the breathing slightly
labored but regular. There was pain also, astonishingly intense—a
burning,
biting, stinging ache—but it was distant, muted by the painkillers Hank
had
administered.
Xavier forced the body to fill its lungs in a deep, shaky sigh of
relief as
he felt his focus slowly begin to return. Now he had a body to steady
him,
the creeping tingle of encroaching madness quickly faded, allowing
Xavier
to gradually come back to himself; to recall his identity and his
purpose.
"Kurt's hand," he whispered to himself, stretching out to follow the
pain
to its source as he felt his memory begin to clear. "The genetic
manipulation. I was hoping to find out who was responsible. I was
trying
to discover what had triggered that change in Kurt's hand."
Xavier smiled to himself as he spoke these words, relieved and
delighted at
how quickly and how well he seemed to be recovering from his nearly
fatal
experience. However, with his shields still weak, his own thoughts
weren't
the only ones he could hear. The subconscious mind is a busy place,
crowded with thoughts, memories, and dreams. Barely had he begun to
regroup, when a new voice caught his attention. It felt almost as
though
it was calling to him specifically, but Xavier knew that was just his
imagination.
The voice was soft and deep; the patient voice of a teacher. It spoke
in
German with a subtle, foreign inflection Xavier could not quite place.
Even though he had never heard this voice before, he found he knew at
once
who it belonged to. It was the voice of Sabu, Kurt's childhood mentor
and
the closest thing he'd had to a father while growing up.
Xavier closed his eyes and concentrated on the soft voice, only one
among
dozens of others chatting and singing and crying and laughing. He
followed
the voice like a guiding light, carefully loosening his link with his
host's body as he moved deeper and deeper into his unconscious mind.
The light was coming from a large, brightly colored tent hung with
brilliant flags and posters inviting spectators in three languages to
come
see the Great Sabu perform his death-defying acrobatic feats without a
net. Xavier tilted his head slightly, regarding the cloaked man on the
posters
with some curiosity. He was tall, lean, and dark with intense,
coal-black
eyes and wavy hair to match. His neat, pointed goatee and moustache
leant
him an eerie, sinister air. Looking at the drawing, Xavier was reminded
of
an illustration he had once seen in a book of fairy tales; an
illustration
of an evil sorcerer.
The muffled voice was coming from within the tent. Curious, Xavier
pushed
the heavy tent-flap aside and walked into the enormous, popcorn-scented
space beyond. A short, burly man was sweeping litter out from under the
stands. He gave Xavier a suspicious look, then nodded him over to the
center ring. Xavier nodded back, then made his way to where the burly
man
had indicated. There, an even shorter, hunch-backed man was examining
the
safety net with the eyes of a concerned professional. He glanced up to
the
small, square platform high above and Xavier followed his gaze to see
two
shadowy figures crouched there, one large and the other small. A
trapeze
was hooked to the support pole within easy reach of the two figures and
another was hanging still and motionless over the net from the darkness
at
the very top of the tent.
It took Xavier a moment to recognize the larger figure as the man he
had
seen on the posters outside. Out of costume, the Great Sabu was far
from
sinister. His shiny hair was tousled and his intense eyes were kind as
he
looked down at his much younger companion; a small boy who, to Xavier's
eyes, couldn't be more than three or four years old.
"Don't worry," Sabu was saying in his deep, patient voice. "The net is
here to catch you. Just remember what I taught you and keep your mind
on
the task ahead. There is nothing to fear, my boy. Once you find the
courage to take this first leap, I know you will make us all proud."
"And then I can fly?" the dark little boy asked with a slight, childish
lisp, flashing his large, white teeth in a broad, excited smile. "Like
Margali said?"
Sabu laughed, a warm, affectionate sound. "It is very like flight," he
said. "But it is more a feeling of freedom, of liberation. You will no
longer be bound to the ground, but you will become a creature of the
air,
of grace, and of beauty. There is no feeling to compare, you will see.
Now, why don't you give it a try, yes?"
The small boy rose to his feet, his eyes wide and glowing with
excitement
mixed with apprehension. It was then that Xavier noticed his tail. As
the
boy carefully unhooked the large trapeze, his short, stubby tail
wrapped
itself around his mentor's arm. Sabu smiled, then gently unwrapped it.
"I think you'll be needing this, don't you?" he said.
"That's mine," the boy announced, pulling his spaded, indigo tail from
his
mentor's hand and lashing it back and forth a few times as he took hold
of
the trapeze with both three-fingered hands.
"Sabu?" he said, turning his head to look back at his mentor once more.
But, Sabu was no longer there.
Xavier gasped, suddenly realizing that he was now standing where Sabu
had
been, high, high, high above the ground. He sat down at once, curling
his
fingers tightly around the edge of the platform as a wave of
disorientation
and vertigo washed over him.
"Oh, Professor!"
Xavier's eyes shot open and he looked up at the sound of that familiar,
accented voice. Kurt Wagner was grinning down at him, no longer a child
but a young man. Xavier stared despite himself. Kurt looked just as he
had when Xavier had first met him all those years ago, when the
talented
acrobat had been little more than nineteen years old.
"What are you doing here?" the young man was saying. "Have you come to
see
my last performance?"
"Oh...erm...yes," Xavier nodded, forcing himself to keep his eyes on
Kurt's
face in order to prevent himself from looking down. "Yes indeed."
"Das ist wunderbar!" Kurt beamed. "I can't tell you how much I
appreciate
this, Professor. Sabu came back from Russia just for this show, did you
know? He is going to be my partner."
Kurt blinked a few times, lowering his head as his smile took on a
slightly
melancholy tinge. "They're all... They're all really sorry that I'm
going.
I wish I didn't have to."
He clenched his fist, his narrow features tightening in anger though
his
golden eyes glowed with pain. "But there is no way that the Incredible
Nightcrawler will ever become a part of that verdammt Amerikaner's
freak
show," he proclaimed with a lash of his long, powerful tail. "He may
have
bought my circus with his Texas millions, but he doesn't own me. And
that's why Amanda and I are going away, right after this performance.
Who
knows...perhaps we can start our own circus, ja? In America, no less."
"Perhaps," Xavier echoed, though his attention was no longer on Kurt.
He
thought he had caught a glimpse of red out of the corner of his eye.
Turning his head, he furrowed his brow, scanning the shadows for the
malevolent form he knew to be there.
There! Two glowing, yellow eyes peering at him out of the dimness at
the
top of the tent. Squinting his eyes, Xavier could just make out the
cloaked intruder's silhouette, frowning as he saw his long, spaded tail
wrap around the sturdy ropes and wires that held the second trapeze
securely in place. The professor could almost swear he saw the sinister
figure grin at him, but before he could react there was a flash of
steel
and Xavier's world dissolved into blinding, white light.
Suddenly, his ears were assaulted by a thousand cheers as a band began
to
play far below. Cautiously opening his eyes, Xavier found he was now
standing in mid-air at the exact level of the trapeze. The stands were
filled to capacity, the excited spectators overflowing into the
sidelines
and almost out of the tent as they craned their necks to get a last
look at
the famous Nightcrawler. Kurt himself was standing on the platform with
Sabu, the two of them smiling as they shared a warm embrace. The older
man's hair was longer now, as was his beard, but his eyes...his eyes
were
just the same.
Just then, the spotlight turned on the two acrobats. Gradually, crowd
hushed and the dramatic drumroll began.
Sabu clapped Kurt heartily on the back, then broke their embrace with
one
last grin. Turning to face forward, the seasoned acrobat grasped his
trapeze, watching intently as a third man standing on the far platform
threw the second trapeze out to swing freely through the air. Timing
his
movements carefully, Sabu climbed up onto the second rung of the ladder
running through the center of his own platform and jumped off, building
momentum as he swung until he released the bar and curled in his legs,
performing a perfect double aerial somersault before catching hold of
the
second trapeze and gracefully pulling himself up into a sitting
position.
As the crowd burst into applause, Kurt grabbed the swinging trapeze and
climbed up to the third rung of the ladder, watching carefully while
Sabu
twined his legs around the ropes of his own trapeze and let go of the
bar
so he was hanging upside down with his arms outstretched, ready to
catch
his star pupil. He smiled at Kurt, a proud twinkle in his dark eyes as
he
watched him prepare for the jump.
Just then, Sabu's trapeze gave a shuddering lurch, causing him to twist
dangerously as he swung through the air. He tried to reach up for the
bar,
to try to steady himself, but the trapeze lurched again, more violently
this time. There was a loud SNAP, and then Sabu was falling, crying out
in
alarm and growing terror as he tumbled through the air toward the hard
ground far below.
"NO!" Kurt screamed, his young voice breaking as he teleported
instantly to
his mentor's side. But he was too late to catch him. Sabu landed head-
first with a horrible, sickening sound, his body twitching as it
bounced
once with the impact, then skidded to a stop through the sawdust that
littered the ground.#
Kurt fell to his knees beside him, shaking all over as he screamed in
horror and denial, streams of hot tears leaking from his golden eyes.
He
stretched out a tentative hand to touch his mentor's shoulder, then
paused,
his eyes widening in a horror of a completely different kind.
Everything froze, the world coming to a complete halt as Kurt stared at
his
hand. Xavier found himself suddenly at his side, watching his numb
expression as the young man shook his head weakly in mute denial.
Slowly,
Xavier followed his stunned gaze down his fuzzy, blue arm until his
eyes
rested on his outstretched hand. Rather than the familiar thick, blue
digits he had expected to see, Xavier saw the powerful, taloned hand of
Belasco.
Kurt blinked, flexing each of the five, russet fingers in turn, unable
to
believe that they were his.
"Nein," he whispered, his trembling voice barely audible even to
Xavier.
"Nein, this is not right. This can not be right!"
The red was spreading up his arm now, his short, fuzz-like fur falling
away
as a sudden, chill wind began to blow. It rustled through Sabu's wavy
hair, changing the course of the small trickle of blood leaking from
the
corner of his mouth and down his pale cheek.
"No! It is not possible!" Kurt screamed, leaping to his feet as they
too
began to change. A pair of blood-red leather boots appeared below a
sweeping, russet cloak as the young man backed away from his mentor's
still
form. "Not another death, Belasco, bitte! Not another friend!"
He turned away in anguish, unable to face Sabu any longer. His long
cloak
swirled behind him as he pressed his one hand to his streaming eyes,
his
shoulders shaking with violent sobs. When he spoke again, his voice was
different than it had been before. It was deeper, harsher, and his
formerly pronounced accent was now little more than a faint inflection.
"How can this be my fault?!" he snapped angrily. "I did not kill Sabu!
I
loved him! I loved him!!"
Xavier stared at the distraught demon before him, not quite sure what
to
do. The transformation was complete now, all the way to his sharp horns
and his crimson hair. Yet somehow, Xavier could still see Kurt behind
the
demon's yellow eyes, as a faint shadow softening Belasco's hard
features.
It was to him that Xavier finally spoke.
"Kurt," he said softly, stepping up beside the sobbing demon until he
was
standing at the periphery of his line of sight. The russet-skinned man
turned on him, his golden eyes glowing dangerously despite his tears.
"Charles," he hissed with a sneer. "What are you doing here? No, wait.
Don't tell me. You've come to offer your assistance? Your sympathy
perhaps? Or maybe you've just come to try to convince yourself that I
am,
indeed, Kurt Wagner."
"Is that who you believe yourself to be?" Xavier asked in the same calm
tone he'd used before, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the demon's
face.
The demon scowled angrily, his sharp fangs gleaming in a way that made
Xavier feel distinctly uncomfortable.
"Get out of here," he growled. "Leave me alone!"
"I don't think that's what you really want," Xavier observed. "You want
answers. Answers only I can help you find."
The demon's eyes widened, then he snarled, his one hand reaching for
the
hilt of his sword.
"You smug, sanctimonious bastard," he roared, his eyes flashing with
hatred. "Your clever little mind games won't work on me. Not anymore.
So take your know-it-all speeches and your holier-than-thou attitude
and
get out of my head! I don't need you, and I don't want your help."
"But you do, Kurt," Xavier said gently, taking a half step closer to
the
fuming demon. "Otherwise, why would you have come back to the mansion
after all this time? What could you possibly have been looking for, if
not
yourself?"
The demon stared at him for a long moment, his expression hard and
unreadable. Then, he spun on his heel, his cape billowing out behind
him
as he strode off into the growing blackness.
"Kurt!" Xavier called after him, stretching out an arm as though that
would
halt his progress. "Kurt, I don't want to trick you! I don't want to
hurt
you or use you or trap you. I came here to find out the truth about
what
happened to you. I believe the answers are here somewhere, but you and
I
both know that neither of us will be able to find them alone."
Kurt was still walking, but Xavier knew he had heard him. He sighed,
his
heart aching as he tried one final time to reach his former friend
before
he disappeared entirely.
"Kurt," he said, his voice soft and sincere. "I—I realize that I've
used
you in the past, and there is no excuse for that. I know that there
have
been times when I have abused your trust and your love. I know you have
no
reason to trust me now, and I'm not asking you to forgive me for what
I've
done. But I care about you, Kurt, and I do want to help you. You can't
know how much it hurts me to see you in such pain—"
"How much it hurts 'you'?" Kurt repeated incredulously, stopping in his
tracks and turning to face the professor once more. "How much it hurts
YOU?" He laughed; a cold, angry sound, his long tail twitching behind
him
as he spoke.
"You have no idea what true pain is, my dear Professor," he sneered
darkly. "You know," he said, a thoughtful tone to his voice, "you are
one
of the most selfish, self-centered creatures I have ever met, and I
have
met many. And you are right. I have no reason to trust you. You are an
unwelcome intruder into my private thoughts, Charles, and—for the
record—the intrusion is not appreciated."
"I understand that," Xavier acknowledged, raising his eyes to meet
Kurt's.
"And I will leave if that is what you truly wish. But I will not
abandon
you. Your struggle is my struggle, Kurt. You don't have to fight
Belasco
alone."
Kurt blinked for a moment, caught off guard by the Professor's sincere
words. Then, he scowled. "Belasco may be your enemy," he snarled, "but
he
is my problem and his actions are my responsibility."
"Granted," Charles nodded, taking a few steps closer to the malevolent
figure glaring at him through the shadows. "But how did he come to be
your
problem, Kurt? Why should you have to carry the guilt of his actions in
your heart?"
"Because..."
Kurt turned his head, closing his glowing eyes in a futile attempt to
block
out the Professor's presence. "I wasn't strong enough to stop him," he
whispered through a tight throat. "I just lay there in the dimness of
my
own mind and let him take over." He frowned, his brow furrowing in
self-
loathing mingled with strong defiance. "But not anymore."
He opened his eyes again, then strode forward, closing the distance
between
himself and the Professor.
"I will not be manipulated again," he declared. "Not by you, not by
Belasco, not by anyone. While it is true that I do not know how this
happened to me, I do know that this body is mine, and I mean to have it
back just as it was."
"And I am offering to help you do that," Xavier said, letting the
taller
man see the truth in his eyes. "It is clear that we both want the same
thing, Kurt. But in order to accomplish anything, we are going to have
to
work together."
Kurt narrowed his eyes at Xavier, his expression suspicious, yet
lacking
the cold animosity of before.
"I will consider it, Professor," he said at last. "Now leave me. And I
warn you, the next time you enter my mind without my consent, I will
not
pull you out of the midden mire. Belasco is easily awoken, and I am not
ready to face him quite yet."
"The midden mire?" Xavier repeated, confused. Then he remembered the
chaos
that had met him when he had first linked with Kurt's mind, dragging
him
down until he had nearly lost himself to the swirling madness. His eyes
widened as he looked up at the russet-skinned demon, seeing him in a
new
light.
"You saved my life."
Kurt just looked at him, expressionless. "I did."
Xavier's lips twitched into a small smile. "Thank you, Kurt," he said
warmly, clapping the taller man on the shoulder.
Then, before Kurt could react, Xavier withdrew himself from his mind,
leaning back in his wheelchair and opening his eyes. He was still
smiling
as he turned his head to face Ororo.
"You were right," he said to her, his smile widening at Scott's
confused
expression. "You were right, Ororo. He truly is Kurt Wagner. And he
does
want our help."
#Sabu's demise is based on the events
seen in Excalibur #-1, Flashback: A
True and Terrible Sacrifice. Belasco was responsible for the horrible
death of Kurt's mentor.