What Am I Doing
Okay. So I may have wrote something for a prompt in the comment section of this wonderful piece of Glee fiction by tamakito
This is totally rushed and my grammar/word choice is sloppy, but the plot bunnies bit me guys. I'm sorry, I just had to.
Also, I haven't read much of the X-books lately so I have no idea what's going on to date, I just grabbed two characters I wanted them to talk to and tried to make it work. (They don't even get to do much...) This is crack/crossover remember. Just don't take it too seriously.
What am I doing?! DX What is this. I don't even...
Wes liked normality, the peace of mind that came from uniformity and the familiarity of tradition. Some people thought that made him “a boring stick in the mud” but honestly he just liked being able to predict things in his life. It was calming and pleasant.
That didn’t mean, however, that he was completely opposed to change. He liked the occasional (small) surprise and Wes believed, at times, a little individuality should be applauded.
Kurt Hummel was a lot of individuality.
That should have made transitioning difficult for Wes. And it had been, initially. But he’d already been down that winding road of thought and came back empty handed and with shaky sanity, so he left it at that; Kurt Hummel was just unusually perfect and lovable, and one could not fight that fact with conventional logic.
But it seemed that Wes’s flirt with insanity via Disney conspiracy was only the beginning of the mental plague Kurt Hummel was destined to inflict on him. And try as he might, there was only so much peculiarity Wes could simply “brush off”. When one of the pair seated across from them, the boy, turned to stone,Wes drew the line.
“This is absolutely absurd.”
And it was. Too bad no one was paying him enough attention to appreciate his beautiful summary of today’s revelations. (They were too busy learning about a “holoprojector” or something. Oh, apparently the boy was actually made from stone all the time. That made everything so much better.)
Not that he blamed them. Being told your friend had superhuman mind-controlling abilities in a coffee shop in Lima, Ohio wasn’t something any of them had been properly prepared for when they’d agreed to accompany Kurt to this suspicious meeting (to protect him, was the unspoken, unanimous goal), and that was considering Wes had long since settled on the fact that Kurt Hummel was far from human. Because how else was an entire school overwhelmed with melancholy silence in acknowledgement of a dead bird. An evil, rotten little bird, who in life had probably inflicted enough pain on the shoulders and hands of the student populous with his pointed little beak that they should be celebrating his death.
Wes had only been able to rationalize that Pavarotti had been special to Kurt, and that Kurt was uniquely special to Dalton. Or at the least, Blaine was uniquely special to Dalton. And the many moods of Blaine Anderson were more or less under Kurt’s complete control. (Not to mention celebrating a death was hardly an appropriate thing to do, and not very gentlemanly, Wes had chided himself. Even if the deceased was a menace.)
But now, that little event, like so many others, seemed to fit perfectly into place. Like a puzzle Wes hadn’t realized he’d still been trying to solve all this time. It seemed he’d just had the wrong filter to process all this “strange-ness” through. Had Wes been raised on comic books and science fiction rather than Disney movies and fairy tales, he might have reached the proper conclusion on his own.
Which is why, to his own surprise, Wes found himself already warming to the idea that Kurt could actually be a mind-controlling mutant. Absurd or not.
But it seemed the others weren’t so quick to accept this new revelation.
Blaine had, at first, found this all very amusing and had even lightly teased Kurt. They all had. Since, surely, the pair couldn’t be serious. Mutants? Really?
But at the pair’s persistence, the air seemed to grow more and more serious, and it wasn’t very funny anymore. Blaine, in particular, seemed to take this accusation as an attack on his perfect boyfriend (as Blaine saw nearly every criticism of Kurt; his over-protectiveness had only grown since he'd finally overcome his crippling obliviousness and embraced his destiny as Prince Charming).
The blonde woman, who somehow managed to remain classy wearing an almost obscenely low cut top and make-up Wes considered more red-light than white-collar, apparently found Blaine’s protectiveness endearing, or amusing. She was hard to read. Her laugh was light enough to be genuine, but with a slightly derisive air. But something made him want to respect this woman, and it went against everything Wes could rationalize. It was an unsettling divide of reasoning and action; a feeling he’d grown well accustomed to this last half a year at Dalton.
“Are you a telepath as well?” It seemed to be the only conclusion Wes could come to.
The woman remained unfazed. “Yes. But we’re not here to discuss me at the moment, now are we?” And she returned her focus to Kurt and no one seemed bothered in the slightest. “Now Kurt,” the protective arm Blaine had across Kurt’s shoulders tightened reflexively at the familiarity in her voice. “I know this is a lot to take in, but you can’t say this is all that surprising to you. You may have recently experienced a spike in your control and ability but you’ve been able to control others for a while now. It couldn’t all be subconscious.”
Blaine looked like he wanted to interject something in his boyfriend’s defense, but Kurt beat him to it. “I’ve never “controlled” anyone. Believe me,” Kurt replied, “if I could do something like that, don’t you think things would have gone differently at McKinley?”
Wes caught himself before he could wonder how these two strangers knew the intimate details of Kurt’s school life. Telepath. Wes felt a new discomfort bloom at that thought. Maybe he wasn’t so comfortable with this “mutant” idea after all. He gave the blonde woman a calculating look as Kurt continued.
“You said you knew about me. Did you know I transferred schools because of daily bullying and living my life in constant fear?” Kurt, for his part, looked only mildly confused and more than a little offended. “So no, I’m sorry, but I have no idea what you’re talking about miss…Frost was it?”
Kurt didn’t look apologetic in the slightest. Wes felt a wave of pride and wondered if it was his own or Kurt’s.
On second thought, he was completely not alright with this mutant theory.
“Life certainly seems to have gotten better for you since.” The Frost woman prodded, glancing at Blaine and the others seated around the table. Wes was starting to question why he was even here, the normal in this sea of crazy. To their credit, Nick and Jeff looked just as out of place, and ten times more confused. Wes was surprised. He would have expected Jeff to take the news better. “Mutants” were really more in line with his interests, with the comic books he was always reading before practice, and superhero action movies he raved about.
“Because I transferred to a private school with a zero tolerance bullying policy and a Glee club that actually appreciates my talent.” Kurt supplied plainly, but he sighed, slightly exasperated, as he continued. “I’m sorry Ms. Frost, but I believe you’ve made a mistake.” Wes wanted to note that Kurt didn’t seem concerned by the concept of mutants actually existing so much as being one of them, but somehow he couldn’t bring himself to really care. He wondered absently which one of the two telepaths caused that deflection. Or if this consent to the abnormal and bizarre was of his own design.
Wes felt the beginnings of a headache forming at his temples and decided to stop questioning the origin of his thoughts at this point. It was hardly going to do him any good in either case.
“Having a human energizer bunny for a boyfriend probably helped, too.” It wasn’t the woman who added that, but the towering boy beside her.
“Excuse me?” Kurt narrowed his eyes and Blaine looked like he was trying to decipher how exactly that description was supposed to be an insult.
“Well it’s hard to miss. He gives off enough energy to power the whole X-Jet, and you can tell just by looking at him. Or standing by him. Or whatever. He kinda looked glowy and stuff when you two were all lovey-dovey before.” Wes had noticed, but didn’t mention it, attributing the unearthly light, once again, to the ever-mystical Disney Magic that revolved around the two. Now he knew better.
Of course. Why not. If Kurt Hummel was a mutant it only stood to reason that so was Blaine Anderson. Wes was starting to come to terms with the fact that those two seemed to be the source of all his mental stress. Blaine was lucky Wes was such a good friend sometimes.
The woman silenced the rock kid with an icy look (and probably a little more, if she was a telepath) and turned back to the group of bewildered and skeptical Dalton Academy students. “Forgive the interruption boys, but despite his lack of tact,” There was a slight pause at this reprimand, which, judging by the hulking boy’s souring expression, was probably continued mentally, “my student brings up a good point.”
Wes took in the woman’s borderline gaudy fur hooded coat and talon like nails and wanted to wonder just where this woman was a teacher, but he realized it was hardly the strangest piece of information he’d received today. It would actually fit well with her pursed expression and the slight condensation she’d been using with them. “So let me get this straight. You had absolutely no idea you were subconsciously altering the moods and minds of your classmates on a daily basis?” she said gesturing to his friends around him. The others looked startled at the accusation. Wes merely felt a sudden surge of relief and the urge to hug this woman, ridiculous furry white coat and all, but suppressed it. After all, that would be most undapper of him. And probably dangerous. Wes cast a wary glance at her perfectly manicured nails. “That’s slightly frightening.” She looked more amused than frightened though. “Especially with the power between you and the human battery here; I’m surprised the entire school wasn’t left a delusional mess of pleasantries and musical numbers.”
If Wes were less of a gentleman he would have snorted, instead he allowed himself a slight knowing smile.
“From the sounds of it, you probably have your boyfriend to thank for your recent power increase,” The woman continued, explaining, “He attracts others as more of a side-effect really, but who wouldn’t want to be near someone who gave them such a pleasant high naturally.”
Blaine had been struggling with words for the past few moments now, but her description seemed to have bothered him, and he settled for casting a sideways glance at Nick and Jeff who remained in what looked like stunned silence. He mumbled unsure, “I just have a likable personality.” It was a half-hearted denial at best. Even he didn’t seem convinced. “You make me sound like some kind of drug dealer.” And now that he was looking for it, Wes felt his mood dampen and fall with Blaine’s expression. There was a new lifelessness to the room that made him uneasy. And it didn't help that Blaine looked so apologetic, pleading and hopeful. Like he expected them to be mad at him. Didn’t he know, mutation or not, he was too infuriatingly likeable for his own good? No one would hold that against him just because he had a reason now. Wes was almost certain he couldn’t have if he tried.
So there it was. Kurt could control people’s minds and Blaine's very presence made those around him happy and refreshed. They were mutants. Wes thought about this for a moment.
It was honestly better than he could have expected.
See, Wes didn’t like different things all that much and was rather resistant to change. As such most would expect him to be the last person to accept this new found and almost laughably absurd concept that two of his classmates, his friends, were superhuman mutants.
But Wes relaxed, leaning back into his chair, and enjoyed his steaming coffee, pleased and content.
As Emma Frost sold the boys some lines about her school in New York, Wes allowed himself the small feelings of righteous victory. It seemed that, ultimately, he’d been right all along.
All was right with the world.
This is totally rushed and my grammar/word choice is sloppy, but the plot bunnies bit me guys. I'm sorry, I just had to.
Also, I haven't read much of the X-books lately so I have no idea what's going on to date, I just grabbed two characters I wanted them to talk to and tried to make it work. (They don't even get to do much...) This is crack/crossover remember. Just don't take it too seriously.
What am I doing?! DX What is this. I don't even...
Wes liked normality, the peace of mind that came from uniformity and the familiarity of tradition. Some people thought that made him “a boring stick in the mud” but honestly he just liked being able to predict things in his life. It was calming and pleasant.
That didn’t mean, however, that he was completely opposed to change. He liked the occasional (small) surprise and Wes believed, at times, a little individuality should be applauded.
Kurt Hummel was a lot of individuality.
That should have made transitioning difficult for Wes. And it had been, initially. But he’d already been down that winding road of thought and came back empty handed and with shaky sanity, so he left it at that; Kurt Hummel was just unusually perfect and lovable, and one could not fight that fact with conventional logic.
But it seemed that Wes’s flirt with insanity via Disney conspiracy was only the beginning of the mental plague Kurt Hummel was destined to inflict on him. And try as he might, there was only so much peculiarity Wes could simply “brush off”. When one of the pair seated across from them, the boy, turned to stone,Wes drew the line.
“This is absolutely absurd.”
And it was. Too bad no one was paying him enough attention to appreciate his beautiful summary of today’s revelations. (They were too busy learning about a “holoprojector” or something. Oh, apparently the boy was actually made from stone all the time. That made everything so much better.)
Not that he blamed them. Being told your friend had superhuman mind-controlling abilities in a coffee shop in Lima, Ohio wasn’t something any of them had been properly prepared for when they’d agreed to accompany Kurt to this suspicious meeting (to protect him, was the unspoken, unanimous goal), and that was considering Wes had long since settled on the fact that Kurt Hummel was far from human. Because how else was an entire school overwhelmed with melancholy silence in acknowledgement of a dead bird. An evil, rotten little bird, who in life had probably inflicted enough pain on the shoulders and hands of the student populous with his pointed little beak that they should be celebrating his death.
Wes had only been able to rationalize that Pavarotti had been special to Kurt, and that Kurt was uniquely special to Dalton. Or at the least, Blaine was uniquely special to Dalton. And the many moods of Blaine Anderson were more or less under Kurt’s complete control. (Not to mention celebrating a death was hardly an appropriate thing to do, and not very gentlemanly, Wes had chided himself. Even if the deceased was a menace.)
But now, that little event, like so many others, seemed to fit perfectly into place. Like a puzzle Wes hadn’t realized he’d still been trying to solve all this time. It seemed he’d just had the wrong filter to process all this “strange-ness” through. Had Wes been raised on comic books and science fiction rather than Disney movies and fairy tales, he might have reached the proper conclusion on his own.
Which is why, to his own surprise, Wes found himself already warming to the idea that Kurt could actually be a mind-controlling mutant. Absurd or not.
But it seemed the others weren’t so quick to accept this new revelation.
Blaine had, at first, found this all very amusing and had even lightly teased Kurt. They all had. Since, surely, the pair couldn’t be serious. Mutants? Really?
But at the pair’s persistence, the air seemed to grow more and more serious, and it wasn’t very funny anymore. Blaine, in particular, seemed to take this accusation as an attack on his perfect boyfriend (as Blaine saw nearly every criticism of Kurt; his over-protectiveness had only grown since he'd finally overcome his crippling obliviousness and embraced his destiny as Prince Charming).
The blonde woman, who somehow managed to remain classy wearing an almost obscenely low cut top and make-up Wes considered more red-light than white-collar, apparently found Blaine’s protectiveness endearing, or amusing. She was hard to read. Her laugh was light enough to be genuine, but with a slightly derisive air. But something made him want to respect this woman, and it went against everything Wes could rationalize. It was an unsettling divide of reasoning and action; a feeling he’d grown well accustomed to this last half a year at Dalton.
“Are you a telepath as well?” It seemed to be the only conclusion Wes could come to.
The woman remained unfazed. “Yes. But we’re not here to discuss me at the moment, now are we?” And she returned her focus to Kurt and no one seemed bothered in the slightest. “Now Kurt,” the protective arm Blaine had across Kurt’s shoulders tightened reflexively at the familiarity in her voice. “I know this is a lot to take in, but you can’t say this is all that surprising to you. You may have recently experienced a spike in your control and ability but you’ve been able to control others for a while now. It couldn’t all be subconscious.”
Blaine looked like he wanted to interject something in his boyfriend’s defense, but Kurt beat him to it. “I’ve never “controlled” anyone. Believe me,” Kurt replied, “if I could do something like that, don’t you think things would have gone differently at McKinley?”
Wes caught himself before he could wonder how these two strangers knew the intimate details of Kurt’s school life. Telepath. Wes felt a new discomfort bloom at that thought. Maybe he wasn’t so comfortable with this “mutant” idea after all. He gave the blonde woman a calculating look as Kurt continued.
“You said you knew about me. Did you know I transferred schools because of daily bullying and living my life in constant fear?” Kurt, for his part, looked only mildly confused and more than a little offended. “So no, I’m sorry, but I have no idea what you’re talking about miss…Frost was it?”
Kurt didn’t look apologetic in the slightest. Wes felt a wave of pride and wondered if it was his own or Kurt’s.
On second thought, he was completely not alright with this mutant theory.
“Life certainly seems to have gotten better for you since.” The Frost woman prodded, glancing at Blaine and the others seated around the table. Wes was starting to question why he was even here, the normal in this sea of crazy. To their credit, Nick and Jeff looked just as out of place, and ten times more confused. Wes was surprised. He would have expected Jeff to take the news better. “Mutants” were really more in line with his interests, with the comic books he was always reading before practice, and superhero action movies he raved about.
“Because I transferred to a private school with a zero tolerance bullying policy and a Glee club that actually appreciates my talent.” Kurt supplied plainly, but he sighed, slightly exasperated, as he continued. “I’m sorry Ms. Frost, but I believe you’ve made a mistake.” Wes wanted to note that Kurt didn’t seem concerned by the concept of mutants actually existing so much as being one of them, but somehow he couldn’t bring himself to really care. He wondered absently which one of the two telepaths caused that deflection. Or if this consent to the abnormal and bizarre was of his own design.
Wes felt the beginnings of a headache forming at his temples and decided to stop questioning the origin of his thoughts at this point. It was hardly going to do him any good in either case.
“Having a human energizer bunny for a boyfriend probably helped, too.” It wasn’t the woman who added that, but the towering boy beside her.
“Excuse me?” Kurt narrowed his eyes and Blaine looked like he was trying to decipher how exactly that description was supposed to be an insult.
“Well it’s hard to miss. He gives off enough energy to power the whole X-Jet, and you can tell just by looking at him. Or standing by him. Or whatever. He kinda looked glowy and stuff when you two were all lovey-dovey before.” Wes had noticed, but didn’t mention it, attributing the unearthly light, once again, to the ever-mystical Disney Magic that revolved around the two. Now he knew better.
Of course. Why not. If Kurt Hummel was a mutant it only stood to reason that so was Blaine Anderson. Wes was starting to come to terms with the fact that those two seemed to be the source of all his mental stress. Blaine was lucky Wes was such a good friend sometimes.
The woman silenced the rock kid with an icy look (and probably a little more, if she was a telepath) and turned back to the group of bewildered and skeptical Dalton Academy students. “Forgive the interruption boys, but despite his lack of tact,” There was a slight pause at this reprimand, which, judging by the hulking boy’s souring expression, was probably continued mentally, “my student brings up a good point.”
Wes took in the woman’s borderline gaudy fur hooded coat and talon like nails and wanted to wonder just where this woman was a teacher, but he realized it was hardly the strangest piece of information he’d received today. It would actually fit well with her pursed expression and the slight condensation she’d been using with them. “So let me get this straight. You had absolutely no idea you were subconsciously altering the moods and minds of your classmates on a daily basis?” she said gesturing to his friends around him. The others looked startled at the accusation. Wes merely felt a sudden surge of relief and the urge to hug this woman, ridiculous furry white coat and all, but suppressed it. After all, that would be most undapper of him. And probably dangerous. Wes cast a wary glance at her perfectly manicured nails. “That’s slightly frightening.” She looked more amused than frightened though. “Especially with the power between you and the human battery here; I’m surprised the entire school wasn’t left a delusional mess of pleasantries and musical numbers.”
If Wes were less of a gentleman he would have snorted, instead he allowed himself a slight knowing smile.
“From the sounds of it, you probably have your boyfriend to thank for your recent power increase,” The woman continued, explaining, “He attracts others as more of a side-effect really, but who wouldn’t want to be near someone who gave them such a pleasant high naturally.”
Blaine had been struggling with words for the past few moments now, but her description seemed to have bothered him, and he settled for casting a sideways glance at Nick and Jeff who remained in what looked like stunned silence. He mumbled unsure, “I just have a likable personality.” It was a half-hearted denial at best. Even he didn’t seem convinced. “You make me sound like some kind of drug dealer.” And now that he was looking for it, Wes felt his mood dampen and fall with Blaine’s expression. There was a new lifelessness to the room that made him uneasy. And it didn't help that Blaine looked so apologetic, pleading and hopeful. Like he expected them to be mad at him. Didn’t he know, mutation or not, he was too infuriatingly likeable for his own good? No one would hold that against him just because he had a reason now. Wes was almost certain he couldn’t have if he tried.
So there it was. Kurt could control people’s minds and Blaine's very presence made those around him happy and refreshed. They were mutants. Wes thought about this for a moment.
It was honestly better than he could have expected.
See, Wes didn’t like different things all that much and was rather resistant to change. As such most would expect him to be the last person to accept this new found and almost laughably absurd concept that two of his classmates, his friends, were superhuman mutants.
But Wes relaxed, leaning back into his chair, and enjoyed his steaming coffee, pleased and content.
As Emma Frost sold the boys some lines about her school in New York, Wes allowed himself the small feelings of righteous victory. It seemed that, ultimately, he’d been right all along.
All was right with the world.