Nightmares Doth Plague Thee
Kurt soared through the air and caught the trapeze in his claws with ease. He swung back and forth, to and fro, sending the crowd below roaring with appreciation. He let go and flew, he actually flew into the sky, he was floating--
He disappeared and was on the ground again, much to the enjoyment of the people gathered around. They cheered at him, yelling his name in adoration.
Kurt, Kurt, Kurt, Kurt!
He leapt into the air, rising and disappearing and reappearing higher and higher until he lost all momentum. He fell--too quickly for him to slow himself--and found himself in a locked coffin. He screamed and raged against its walls, but he couldn't leave it no matter how hard he pictured where he wanted to be. Many loud and horrible sounds seeped into his casing, sending fear into his frame. He shuddered and prayed as hard as he could.
Our Father who art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us, and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil...
The lid opened and he was dumped into an arena of sorts, with fencing containing a large dusty section in a warehouse he did not know. Kurt leapt into the air and hit the fence, unable to teleport past it. He screamed and tried again and again, hitting the wall on the opposite side and leaving puffs of smoke as he tried to escape. An angel glared at him from the center of the ring as he stuggled to catch his breath on a metal bar in the top of the cage. This was not the circus. This was not his home.
"Fight, or they'll kill us both!" The angel yelled.
Kurt scrunched his nose. He did not want to fight this angel, he was beautiful and so veRY ANGRY--
The angel came forth and attacked him, swiping with his wings and trying to hit the teleporting imp. Kurt whimpered as he saw the men with machine guns, the spectators booing him, and the announcer egging them on in his home language.
Was ist besser für den Engel als der Teufel selbst? Siehe, der unglaubliche Nightcrawler!
Kurt scrambled away from the angel as he relentlessly attacked him.
"Kurt--KURT!"
He snapped awake, his heart threatening to pound right out of his chest. Jean, his friend--she sat on the edge of his bed, her brows furrowed in worry.
"I could feel you all the way down the hall." She forced down a couple gulps of air, a small half-hearted smile reaching her lips. "Remind me to stop complaining about my nightmares."
"I'm so sorry--I never meant to vake anyone!" Kurt whispered. His hands shook as he grasped his quilt tighter. His sharp night vision picked out Jean's badly stifled smirk.
"Kurt honey, you have to ask the Professor to help you. I can only hear you, I don't have the finesse or control to try to make sense of--that."
"Zhey don't always come." He lowered his eyes, releasing the quilt from his grip. "Zhey haven't been zhis bad for a long time."
Jean nodded and covered his hand with her own. Giving him a gentle, reassuring squeeze, she sighed.
"I'm sorry you have to go through this. But please consider asking Xavier. I don't want to see you suffer."
Kurt shrugged noncommittally, but graced her with his easy genuine smile.
"I vill vhen I am ready. Zhank you, Jean." He squeezed her hand back before releasing it. The sun was starting to peek over the horizon, it was almost time to wake up anyway. Maybe he would get an early workout in before breakfast. Kurt smiled at her before turning over to start getting dressed. When he glanced up five seconds later, the red-haired telepath was gone, the door slightly swinging in her wake.