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“So,” Ezra tried to clarify, “you live in America now. But you were born in Germany.”
Kurt crossed his legs in his seat. “That’s right.”
“And you’re here for your German birth certificate.”
“That’s the goal,” Kurt said cheerfully.
“But you have no German citizenship.”
“No.”
“And,” Ezra continued, “no German documents of any kind.”
“I’m afraid not.”
Ezra took a deep breath. He spared a mournful glance to the multitude of forms by his desk. Usually it took less than a minute for him to pick one and move on to the next person in line. He had been talking to Kurt for several minutes now. So far, none of the stacks by his side seemed fitting. “Are you an American citizen?”
“Not quite,” Kurt said, which was not an encouraging answer.
“Do you have any legal documents at all?” Ezra tried. “Of any kind.”
“I have a driver’s license,” he offered. “And a passport.”
Ezra’s face brightened hopefully. “A German passport?”
“American.”
Ezra closed his eyes for a moment. “Sir,” he said with supreme patience, “how can you have a passport but no citizenship?”
Kurt reached into his bag and handed Ezra his own stack of forms. They were in a plastic casing, and thick enough he had to press down with some force to fit them through the slit under the glass.
“That is a lot of paper,” Ezra commented dumbly.
“I’ve tried this before,” Kurt told him brightly. “I brought absolutely anything I could need to finally get this done over one appointment.” He shoved the stack all the way through. Ezra squinted at the papers, frown deepening the further he read.
“Special travel dispensation,” he read off. The mask of blank professionalism cracked around his eyes as he flipped through. “Honorary citizenship-adjacent status? I’ve never seen this before in my life.” He blinked. “This is signed by the president?” Flipped another page. “Several presidents?”
“That’s right,” Kurt said proudly. “It was given to a few of the X-men two years ago. Allowed us to get travel documents.” He slid his passport helpfully through the glass.
Ezra took it. Kurt’s past few words caught up with him as he flipped to the picture page. He looked sharply up. “You’re an X-man?”
Kurt grinned, showing bright white fangs.
“Okay,” Ezra said, taking a moment. “All right, all of this notwithstanding… you are here for a German birth certificate, correct? Because you were never issued one?”
“That’s right.”
His shoulders loosened, visibly relieved. “All right,” he said, happy to be back on familiar ground. He put the stack back into its plastic casing and shoved it back through the glass. “What are your birth parents’ names?”
“Well,” Kurt said, drawing out the word in a way that pulled all the tension back into Ezra’s body. “I don’t know. I was adopted. But my adoptive mother is a citizen.” He paused. “I’m pretty sure.”
“Do you have your adoption certificate?” he asked, grasping at straws. “Or, do you maybe know what agency…” he trailed off at Kurt’s expression. “No agency?”
“It wasn’t a formal adoption,” he admitted. Ezra rubbed his temples.
“To issue you a German birth certificate,” he said slowly, “I need, at the very least, proof that you were born in Germany.”
Kurt slipped a small cassette tape through the glass slit. “This is a tape of me being pulled from a river as a newborn.”
“Sir,” Ezra said helplessly.
Ezra’s supervisor was named Miriam, and she visibly startled when she saw Kurt across the glass. She recovered quickly, and her surprise was shortly redirected from the way he looked to the things that he was saying.
“I have a baptismal certificate,” Kurt offered once Ezra had finished recounting his situation, and held it up to show them before sliding it through the glass. “My mother’s name is on there.”
Ezra took it, then frowned at his computer for long minutes. Kurt waited patiently, hands folded on the little table. Miriam was watching the tape of Kurt being pulled from the river. The muscles of her face twitched, unwilling to commit to an expression.
“This tape…” she began, then was silent for a moment. “Is not helpful,” she said with finality.
“It’s not?” Kurt sounded disappointed.
“There’s no indication as to where this is.”
“There are signs for our circus in the background,” Kurt pointed out. “To verify the location.” Miriam looked sidelong at him, pausing the video on a still frame of Margali bundling a small blue body into her jacket. “And that’s my mother in the green.”
Miriam pointed at the screen. “How can we even be sure this baby is you?” The question hung in the air. Kurt’s lips slowly ticked up. Miriam looked down with faint embarrassment when she realized what she was asking. “Fair point,” she conceded.
Ezra took in a sudden sharp breath through his nose. “All right! I’ve found your mother. She does have German citizenship.” He glanced at the still frame on Miriam’s screen. “She does match the photograph. Or – video.”
“I brought photographs, too,” Kurt offered.
“That doesn’t matter,” Miriam said firmly. “On top of everything else, she never registered you as her son.”
Kurt bristled a little. “She couldn’t.”
“That may be, but—"
“She was worried for my safety,” Kurt continued, defensive. “This was more than twenty years ago.”
“Sir,” Miriam said, softening, “I understand all that. And I sympathize. But I don’t know what I can do for you.”
Kurt helpfully gestured to the papers he’d handed Ezra earlier. “Can you maybe work backwards from those?”
“I’ve never even seen this before,” she said, tapping the paper at the top. Her expression suddenly brightened. “You said it was some kind of superhero form?”
Miriam’s supervisor was called Mia, and she had forms at the ready by the time she had come down. She pulled them out of a sleek brown leather accordion folder, and set them in front of Kurt. She stayed on his side of the glass, leaning against the table edge with her hip.
“I know you hero types often have… unconventional backgrounds,” she said delicately. “There’s protocol for this, don’t worry.” Kurt beamed at her until she set the paper down in front of him. “This is an international form we’ve used for all the Avengers.”
His face fell only as far as his good manners would allow. “I’m not an Avenger,” he said levelly. “I’m an X-man.”
Mia frowned severely. “Surely they’re similar?”
“Um,” Kurt said.
“Even if we verify you were pulled out of this river in Germany, how can we be sure you were actually born in Germany?”
Kurt cocked his head to the side. “How do you mean?”
“I mean,” the voice on the phone said delicately, “how can we know where you were… put into the river?” There was a pause. “What if you floated down across a border?” she said slowly.
Kurt frowned. “I… hadn’t considered that.”
Eventually Kurt had climbed far enough up the hierarchy that Ezra had since been relieved of his case. There were now three people on speakerphone.
“All right, so,” one of them said decisively. “We have confirmation that this river does originate in Germany.”
“I found the Winzeldorf records,” said another.
“I’m waiting to hear back from the German government,” reported a third. “Mr. Wagner, one last time, you have no information about your birth parents?”
“None,” Kurt said smoothly.
It had been four hours now. The clacking of keyboards over the conference call sounded like rain.
“We’re faxing over some paperwork now,” one of them said, for the sixth or so time, and yawned audibly. “Mr. Wagner, this might be a while longer. It all has to go through a reviewal process.”
“I can wait,” Kurt promised.
“Mr. Wagner,” said another voice, “we need a representative from the X-men to confirm your involvement for my colleague here.”
“Okay. Can we call them from here? I had to leave my phone behind at security.”
“I’m afraid we need to speak to them in person.”
There was a moment of silence where Kurt stared at the phone. “Sir,” he pointed out as politely as he could, “you are not here in person.”
“…I am aware of that, Mr. Wagner. But they need to be in the embassy. I’m afraid it is procedure. Or,” he amended, “as close to procedure as we are managing here.”
Kurt took a deep breath. Then, he said with unfailing patience, “you need them to come here?”
“Yes.”
“Any X-man,” he clarified.
“No, someone from the approved list of representatives.”
Mia held up a sheet of paper for him. The paper read: Scott Summers. There were no other names on the list.
“If you need to make another appointment for Mr. Summers to come in—”
“That’s okay,” Kurt said quickly, standing out of his chair. “No need. I will get him right now.”
Mia gave him a look. “How soon can you bring him here?”
Kurt grinned. “Instantaneously.”
*
Margali opened her door and launched herself into his arms. “Kurt!” she shouted in his ear. “You didn’t say you were coming!” She pulled back to look at him. “This is a nice surprise.”
“Hi, mama.” He kissed her cheek.
“When did you fly in?”
He grinned. “Just now.”
She smacked his arm affectionately. “Did you take your team’s plane?” she chided, ushering him inside. “What if they need it?”
“I’m allowed.” He took off his bag and crouched down immediately through the door. “I brought you another surprise besides just me,” he told her.
She smiled knowingly. “Oh?”
“I think you’ll like it.” He unzipped the large compartment and then stopped. Looked up at her. “I almost got Scott and I arrested in the process.”
“Oh?” she said again, unfazed.
“I teleported into a building that prohibited use of mutant powers on the premises. I had just been in there for four hours, but they made me teleport back out, then walk back in. It was…” he shook his head. “Anyways.” He pulled out a large envelope, and handed it to her. “It doesn’t quite mean anything, but I thought it would be nice to have.” He leaned forward and kissed her again.
“Happy mother’s day, mama.”