One For the Team

Posted on Sun Sep 22nd, 2024 @ 9:56pm by Kurt Wagner & Pietro Maximoff

Mission: Episode 0: X Lang Syne
Location: Eastern Europe
Timeline: 1982

The circus tent stood quietly under the late evening sky, the vibrant colors muted in the fading light. Inside, the echoes of laughter and applause from earlier performances had long since faded, leaving a hushed silence in their wake. Kurt Wagner, better known by the circus moniker Nightcrawler, moved with his usual grace, a small, intricately wrapped package clutched in his blue, three-fingered hand. He was still wearing his acrobat’s costume. Not a moment to waste, he had teleported into town to keep an appointment and hurried back just as quickly.

That night’s performance had been nothing short of magical. The audience had been captivated by the feats of agility and daring displayed by Kurt and Wanda, their synchronized movements the product of hours of practice and the unspoken connection between them. Kurt’s heart had soared with every cheer and gasp, each one a note in the symphony of their shared triumph. The exhilaration of their success filled him with an almost childlike glee, and he could think of no better way to celebrate than by sharing this moment with Wanda.

As he bamfed from one location to the next, memories of their journey together flickered through his mind like the frames of an old film reel. He recalled the first time he had seen her, a vision of grace and strength, her dark hair flowing like a river. From that moment, he had been enchanted, not just by her beauty but by the fierce intelligence and kindness that lay beneath. They had shared countless nights under the stars, talking about their dreams and fears, their hopes and desires, what they would do if they ever made it to the big time. Kurt had learned to see the world through her eyes, to understand the depth of her struggles and the strength of her spirit. She challenged his monastery upbringing in so many thrilling ways. Never a day went by that wasn’t consumed with thoughts of her.

Tonight, he had something special planned. The gift he held was a symbol of their shared history—a gold locket he’d commissioned from the village goldsmith, with space for a picture of the two of them. He could scarcely imagine finding an old-fashioned goldsmith, yet the village where their circus had stopped had one. God was good! This was Kurt’s way of showing Wanda that no matter their differences in upbringing, faith, and values, their bond was precious and unbreakable. He had chosen the locket carefully, wanting it to be a tangible reminder of his love and commitment.
He paused just outside Wanda’s vardo, a warm smile playing on his fanged mouth. His heart beat faster at the thought of her reaction. He envisioned her opening the locket, her eyes lighting up with joy and surprise. Kurt had always been a poet at heart, a lover who expressed his feelings through grand gestures and tender words. Tonight, he wanted to celebrate not just their performance but their love. He had dreamed of this moment, of holding her close and whispering sweet nothings in her ear, of consummating their love under the canopy of stars that had so often borne witness to their courtship.

As he approached the door, Kurt’s keen ears picked up the sounds of a heated discussion. Curiosity piqued, he hesitated, his instincts urging him to listen. The voices were unmistakable: Wanda and her brother, Pietro. There was a third voice that was unfamiliar to Kurt. Authoritative, domineering. And he was making demands.

“Do not think of yourself only,” the imperious voice continued. “We are the cusp of change in this world, of greatness! Join me and I will grant you not only your true heritage and legacy, but the grand purpose for which you were brought into this world. We shall redeem it through fire, salvation through destruction, a war to end all wars and bring lasting prosperity when the enemies of our people are laid low and brought to ruin.”

Kurt could not believe his pointed ears. What kind of despotic maniac was this? What did he want with Wanda?

“Tată, you expect us to abandon our lives for your dream? To embrace a future of your design when there is no past between us?” Wanda’s voice was usually rich and smooth but there was an abnormal strain in her inflection. “I want to love you, I want us to have a relationship but what you are asking me to do, it is a lot.”

“What are we staying here for, Wanda?” Pietro’s voice had that same strained inflection as hers, a reminder of their relation. “Chump change and fifteen minutes in the spotlight each night? You hear the whispers in the crowds, they are starting to grow wary of our kind. Everyday we become less of a novelty and more of a threat. We have the opportunity to really make a difference in this world, to shape it into something great for all of us.”

“I’m not saying no… I just need more time to think about this. We have another show tonight. Can I give you my answer afterwards?” Wanda pleaded with the men and they both could hear her softening to whatever it was they were both proposing.

“Of course, sister,” Pietro agreed before the other man could answer. “Collect your thoughts and consider everything. We’ll talk more later tonight.”

The man in red hovered through the back door and rose into the sky like the destroying angel himself before flying away. Kurt let out a gasp at the sight. It wasn't the mere fact the man had flown. They could all do incredible things. The demonstration gave context to his speech. This madman was recruiting people who could do incredible things for clearly destructive ends.

Realizing that he had given himself away, Kurt bamfed from his position near the door to be in front of Wanda.
“Hallo, Vanda,” Kurt said with heavy German pronunciation on the consonants.

His smile was equal parts bashful and eager. Most people couldn't seem to tell the difference in his range of facial expressions, but Wanda could. Whatever that had been about, Kurt tried to put it behind him. He didn't want Wanda to think he'd been spying on her. “Can ve… I vas hoping to speak visth you about... somesthink important.”

“Oh, hello Kurt.” Wanda seemed sad when she saw him and something troubled her enough to show in her green eyes. Whatever she was thinking about between now and the next performance, it was weighing heavily on her heart. “I suppose we have time for a short walk before the next show.” She stood up and tightened the tie of her robe. “I could use some fresh air, let’s walk and talk, okay?”

“Ja, of course.” Kurt palmed the locket away and took Wanda by the hand. His oversized fingers hooked around hers with ease.

Most people recoiled from his touch. It had taken ages for Kurt not to pull away from Wanda in shame of his appearance. Now their walks together brought him an inner fulfilment he'd only known before during vespers at the monastery. Even then, it wasn't nearly so thrilling. Chaste physical touch was something he had never known before. Prolonged contact with Wanda made him wonder if there would be a day they would become more intimate than walking, talking, and cuddling together.

“Is somesthink on your mind?” It was clear that there was. The question was Kurt's way of broaching the matter of her brother and whoever that man was without revealing he had overheard much of it. There was much he did not know, but what he had gleaned was not good. “You can tell me anysthink, Liebling.”


“A lot is on my mind.” She hung her head in defeat as she confessed the presence of her mental burden. “I know I can tell you anything…” Wanda squeezed his hand in reassurance. “It’s the topics that make it hard to talk about.”

She was silent for a moment as they continued to walk away from the lights of the circus and into the twilight of the field they had set up in.

“I know you overheard the conversation I was having with Pietro and another man. That man is my father.” Wanda paused and let the realization sink in. Kurt knew how unstable her childhood had been, her and Pietro had been raised by a single mother and after her death their lives became so much harder. “He claims he didn’t know about us until recently and he’s looking to make amends for his absence.”

“Zhat did not zound like amends, Vanda…” Kurt trailed off, unsure of whether to press the matter. “Vhat proof did he give of his claims? And vhat he zaid… He zounded like a madman!”

“You sound like Pietro. He was skeptical at first too but proof has been provided. He is our father.” Wanda’s voice remained calm and dulcet despite Kurt’s outburst.

He had said too much. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Kurt knew he had overstepped. “Entschuldigung,” he said by way of a quick apology. “I know it may not be my place, Vanda, but I know your heart is good. Destruction? Var? Ruin? God help us if he acts on any of zhose terrible zhings!” He squeezed her hand all the tighter. “I can help you. You know zhis. Ve can run away together, somevhere he will never find us. We could leave tonight, if you vant.”

“I’ve been running my whole life!” A sensitive nerve had been struck with his provided solution. “And while I must admit that his means are rather harsh for my personal taste, I don’t completely disagree with his message and his vision. Pietro thinks he’s brilliant.”

“So?” Kurt shook his head in disbelief. “Vhat do you zhink, Vanda? Zhat is vhat matters here.”

Wanda swallowed roughly as she struggled with her emotions and what she had to tell Kurt. She loved him dearly and she knew this was going to hurt. “My father’s name is Erik Lehnsherr but the world knows him as Magneto. His actions in response to mutant exploitation have deemed him a terrorist in many nations. But he has crafted a mutant haven in the sky, a place called Asteroid M. He wants Pietro and I to live with him, up there.”

“You mean to tell me zhat a known man of violence has promised you a literal castle in zhe air and you are actually considering his invitation?” Kurt’s glowing yellow eyes widened in horror. “Vanda, he is lying! You must zee zhis schvindler for vhat he is!”

But even as he looked into her eyes, Kurt could see her inner conflict and how it was not balanced in his favor. The Romani people had suffered greatly, a heritage that had been an early connection made between the two of them when they had come from such distant cultures. This Magneto was a masterful manipulator indeed for having preyed upon the one motivation that could entice his sweet Wanda to join him in his mad campaign.

“Please, Vanda, I beg of you…” The passion in Kurt’s voice deflated, giving him a desperate air of pleading. “Do not go vith him. Stay vith me. No running. Ve… ve can fight him! As it is written, ‘Resist ze devil and he must flee!’”

“It’s not that simple, Kurt!” He heard the strain in her voice as she continued to refuse to look him in the eyes. “Pietro wants to go too, he agrees with him and wants to join his cause… he’s my brother, I can’t abandon him.” Wanda shook her head as she dared to even consider leaving her twin. “For so long it was just the two of us. He took care of me above all else, most nights I would eat and he would go without. I can’t leave him.”

A stray tear ran down her cheek because she already knew how this would end. “Don’t make me choose between my brother and you.”

That tear was a punch to the gut so fierce that it backed Kurt up a step. This was unbelievable. “It is not I who has forced zhis choice upon you, Vanda. Can you not see even zhat?”

He retrieved the gold locket from his pocket and placed it in her hand. “Zhis is vhy I came to you tonight. I vanted you to have it as a symbol of our love. Now I can zee it vill only be somesthink to remember me by.” Attempts to stifle his own tears showed his pronounced fangs in a terrifying facial expression. Only the slant of his tear-riddled yellow eyes showed his sorrow. When the locket opened, their picture became stained with a fallen tear drop.

“Oh, Kurt, it’s beautiful.” Wanda gasped before wrapping her arms around him. Her embrace was warm and inviting but also bittersweet because it felt like a goodbye. “You are always so kind and considerate, you love with everything that you are.”

She leaned back a little bit so she could see his face and look him in the eyes. Wanda wiped away the tears that streamed down his velvet soft cheeks. Even her unabashed touch was now hard to receive, no one had ever looked at Kurt with such genuine and honest love, there was no fear or repulsion for him.
“I’m going to miss you so much.”

The finality of the moment was already settled, but Kurt couldn’t help himself. “Nein… nein, nein, Fraulein Vanda,” he begged, joining his three-fingered hands together in a desperate plea. “Do not do zhis, not to us. Ve can find a way. Do not go vith zhem! Do not leave me, Vanda! Bitte!”

“Kurt, please…” His begging was hard to hear but made Wanda pity him enough that her own tears stalled. “I can’t leave my brother and there is a part of me that does want to know my father. Besides, you can’t deny that people are looking at mutants differently, I can feel it in the crowd every time we perform. How long before this circus is closed because people don’t want to see mutants anymore? Things are changing and it scares me.”

“Ze answer to fear is not more fear,” Kurt said. “It is faith! I believe in us, Vanda, more zhan you fear ze future. Vhen zhis Mann Magneto reveals his true nature, I vill be here, vaiting to pick up ze pieces.”

It was settled then. Despite the tears and pleading, finality had settled over them both. There was no use denying the obvious or running from the inevitable.

Kurt leaned in and kissed Wanda on the forehead. It seemed they would remain chaste after all. “Auf Wiedersehen…”

“It really is goodbye, isn’t it?” Wanda sniffled a little as the reality of this conversation started to sink in. She loved Kurt and his beautiful optimism about life, his heart was so open and compassionate despite the way people treated him based on superficial appearances. It took a lot to remain so loving in a world that hated him. Wanda felt like she could do anything as long as Kurt was with her and now she was leaving him. “I’ll write to you. At least we can keep in touch.”

Even though that felt like salt in the wound, Kurt still kept a stiff upper lip. “Ja… ja, at least zhere is zhat.”

Kurt looked down at his acrobatic outfit, something he had earned through being trained by the best trapezist in Eastern Europe. It had been the best two years of his life. When the circus had come to the nearby village, Kurt had said he left the monastery life because the lights and sounds of the circus made him feel alive. Truth be told, it had been Wanda. Her beauty and grace, even as a novice, had stolen his heart and made him see a new path in life for himself. The long days of training and long nights of independent practice were to prove to himself that he was capable, but the reward at the end of the race was always Wanda.

Now that she was leaving, suddenly the circus didn’t seem so appealing. The thrill of performing had indeed been eroded by the gasps from attendees who realized his costume didn’t extend to face, hands, and feet. Without Wanda to smooth away the edges, they seemed rather sharp indeed.

“I zhink… I vill return to the monastery,” Kurt said. “It cannot be ze same wizhout you, Vanda. Ze circus, I mean. Send me vord zhat you are safe…” His face turned fraught with worry. “... for I vill be praying for you every morning and night.”

“I know you will Kurt,” Wanda looked at him with such remorse, she did love him. But they were so young and her family, her blood, they came first in choices like this. “Because you never stopped.”

Note: Wanda Maximoff was played by Kennedy Kelly.