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Limits	By : fuzzybluelogic Category: X-men Comics > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 2868 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men comics, or any of the characters from it. I make no money from from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Limits
- 2-Limits 2
- 3-Limits 3
- 4-Limits 4
- 5-Limits 5
- 6-Limits 6
- 7-Limits 7
- 8-Limits 8
- 9-Limits 9
- 10-Limits 10
- 5
- 6
- 7
Ro,
needing a break and some garbage bags, wandered down to kitchen. She had passed
by a recreation room of sorts on the way down and borrowed a pair of extra long
tongs she found resting on the couch. Some of the laundry in Kurt�s apartment
had foul and mysterious stains. She didn�t think skin contact was a wise idea,
she�d feel better cautiously lifting the items with an implement. She rummaged
around the kitchen until she found a generous stash of garbage bags. She also
helped herself to a cup of yogurt. She set her box of garbage bags and pilfered
tongs on the kitchen table, and sat down to eat her yogurt.

Ro
finished her yogurt, gathered her supplies, and headed back towards Kurt�s
�Pad�. She wasn�t sure when he turned into Austin Powers, though she wasn�t
very surprised. Circus kids were notoriously promiscuous and Kurt just happened
to be a little more notorious then most, and he had Remy, the Grand Poobah of all man-sluts, as one of his male
role-models. Well, she knew why Kurt had to leave Germany.
He�d already fucked everyone in Europe and had to start
on North America. She knew about Kurt�s foray into
modeling; a mutant male model, an exotic and beautiful freak. Designers loved
him. He got to hide in plain sight. No one�s going to scream and break out the
torches and pitchforks if you�ve been flaunting yourself all over the media.
Kurt had been flying his freak flag high. Then one day, Margali ordered him to
go to Westchester and knock on the door of the Xavier
Institute for the Gifted. Now he was Nightcrawler; one of the X-Men.
Damn,
his room was nasty.

There was woe in
Warrentopia. The Warrentopian Royal Tongs of Laziness were missing. Warren
stared at Warrentopia sadly, tong-less. He had only gotten up to attend to a
few bodily functions: bathing, shaving, and peeing. He only shaved because he
was itchy. He sighed heavily. His Viceroy was now a Warrentopian ex-patriot,
having left the gentle lazy shores of Warrentopia to go to ...*shudder*...work. His days as Monarch of Warrentopia
were numbered, and the numbers were getting smaller...in increments. He sensed
conspiracy.
Bobby stuck his
head in the rec room. Warren was
standing in front of the couch known as Warrentopia, gazing at it morosely, his
wings drooping.
�War, you ok
there?� Bobby asked.
�I fucking hate
law school.� Warren growled. �And
somebody took my tongs.�
�You had a phone
call. Your mom couldn�t get a hold of you so she called me.� Bocautcautiously
walked into the room. �She said you�re supposed to meet your parents tonight at
the country club.�
�Gaaaah!!�

Bobby
fled.

Scott crept to the
Med-Lab, taking his very life in his hands. Under his arm he carried a case of Twinkies,
courtesy of Costco. He could hear Hank tapping away at his keyboard. He peered
cautiously around the corner. Henry McCoy, fourth-year Medical
School student and resident genius,
sat hud atd at his computer desk, turning pages of a textbook with his toes, a
pencil clutched in his teeth. His long brown hair was pulled back into a
ponytail underneath a tie-dyed �do-rag. He wore his student doctor�s coat over
a tee-shirt bearing the likeness of Milton
from Office Space, and cargo shorts. Dean Martin crooned quietly from his
computer speakers.
�By the twitching
of my thumbs, something Hostess this way comes.� Hank looked up from his work.
�An offering to soothe the savage Beast?�
�How�s tricks,
Hank?� Scott inched forward, Hank seemed cordial enough, but he was still a
Medical student and that meant he was unpredictable and prone towards violent
outbursts. It�s all fun and games until Hank chews through your thoracic
cavity.
�Bring forth the
tasty consumables, Mr. Summers, and we�ll discuss why you chose to venture
forth where Warren fears to tread.�
Hank set down his pencil, closed his textbook, and cleaned his glasses on his
shirt. He slipped his glasses back and pushed his computer chair away from his
desk, spinning it to face Scott.
�I thought you were
on Spring Break.� Scott handed him the giant box of Twinkies. Hank opened the
box and carefully selected one, running it under his nose like a fine cigar.
�I am, but unlike
my fine feathered friend, I can ill afford such luxuries as Warrentopia.� He peeled
back the plastic wrapper and extracted the Twinkie. �Finals loom on the
horizon.� He popped the snack cake into his mouth and made an expression of
pure bliss. Hank leaned back in his chair, the back of it squeaked in protest,
�Soooo, to quote Cab Calloway...what�s cuttin�, Button?�
�I flushed my
Paxil.�
�Hmmm...interesting.
It�s usually best to taper off antidepressants to increasingly smaller dosages,
but you were only on it a week or less. What brought forth this act of
rebelliousness?� Hank dropped the wrapper in his trash bin. Scott sank into a
chair, resting his chin on his fists. Hank�s computer screen reflected off his
glasses.
�I�m sick of being
The Asshole. I want my life back. I know I have issues, but the meds were just
making me an asshole who can�t emote.� Scott chewed on his thumbnail.
�And?�
�I really don�t
want to be divorced.� Scott sighed. �I had this dream. Jean was sick of my shit
and lack of ...of...�
�Inspiration?�
Hank supplied gently.
�Yeah, so she
fucked Kurt.� Scott winced at the memory. �It was really vivid and graphic. So,
I dumped the Paxil down the loo.�
�Well, Paxil is
known to sometimes cause rather intense and disturbing dreams.� Hank got up and
opened a cabinet. He took out a small box and handed it to Scott. �Here, take
this twice a day. I recommend copious amounts of the sweetener of your choice
as the taste can be rather acrid. And drink as much water as you can possible
bear.�
�What is it?�
�A detoxification
tea.� Hank sat back down at his computer desk, �It will flush the Paxil from
your system post-haste, so when Jean arrives home from her mission...perhaps
your Muse will have returned by then.�
�Thanks, Hank.�
Scott smiled and got up. �I�ll let you get back to work.�
�You�re most
welcome...oh, and Scotty?�
�Yes?� Scott
turned back.
�Try Yoga. You
might find meditative focus far more therapeutic then chemical means of
coping.� Hank suggested, reaching for his book with his left foot, �Jean takes
Yoga on Mondays, doesn�t she? Perhaps you could tag along.�
�Yeah, I�ll do
that.� Clutching his box of tea, Scott left. Hank smiled and went back to his
studying.
- 5
- 6
- 7
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Limits