Work Text:
Westchester, New York 1988
Kurt’s tail swished behind him, in perfect sync with Mystique’s pacing in front of him. The two were in the rec room closest to the main foyer. He was trying to focus on the movie playing behind his anxious mother. (Jubilee and Peter having long abandoned him once Mystique stalked in.) He looked towards his watch, 11:01, they were officially late.
Mystique growled low in her throat, startling Kurt. A series of expletives in different languages escaped from her mouth. And he was tempted to track down Irene, as she was the only one able to calm the other woman.
Rogue had stormed out of the house a couple of hours ago, Gambit in tow. Mystique had yelled out a curfew at her retreating form, though the younger girl had mostly ignored her. But it also wasn’t like her to stay out so late either, especially considering she had a Danger Room session early in the morning with Logan.
"That's it, I'm getting Charles," Mystique finally snapped, stomping out of the room leaving behind a bewildered Kurt. He checked his watch again, it was only 11:06.
Faintly, he picked up the rumble of a motorcycle approaching. He teleported to the garage, eager to warn Rogue of their mother's growing fury (though she would probably revel in it).
But it was not his sister and Gambit who pulled up, but the Wolverine.
"Elf," he greeted with a curt nod of acknowledgement.
He swallowed, and replied, "Logan."
"Going somewhere?"
"No, thought you were Rogue," he said, his tail started swishing nervously behind him. "She and Gambit took off a couple of hours ago. Mystique is how they say, freaking out."
Logan snorted and looked across the garage, Kurt's gaze following his own. Gambit's bike and Rogue's jeep were in there designated parking area. He watched on as Logan picked up his head and sniffed the air.
"Don't know why, they're still in the mansion."
Kurt's eyes widened. "What," he dumbly asked.
"Somewhere in the East Wing, I'd say."
That was the classroom area. Gears spinning in his mind, Kurt ported to the home economics room. It was clean, but there were signs of recent usage. The smell of popcorn still lingered in the air.
Deciding to try another room, he found the duo in one of the study rooms. A television (that should have been locked away in the teacher’s supply closest) had been wheeled into the room. Rogue sat in front of it on one of the plush couches that decorated the room. She hadn’t noticed him yet.
Curious about Gambit’s whereabouts, he peered over the couch to see him asleep, his head resting on his sister’s lap. (He was sorely tempted to push him off.)
“Don’t,” Rogue harshly whispered, a warning. She hadn’t even looked up from the television.
Pouting, Kurt reluctantly let the issue drop and turned to the younger girl. Her eyes were still green, so that was a good sign at least, eating from a bowl of popcorn. He was about to interrogate her when he noticed just what exactly was on the screen.
He gasped, scandalized.
“You said you were gonna wait,” he accused.
Rogue only shrugged and pat the spot besides her. “Just started.”
He immediately grabbed the popcorn out of her hands and joined her in watching the first part of the latest Doctor Who.