Playing with Fire

Disclaimer: Not. Mine.
Hope y'all enjoy.

LIFE GOES ON


The sun was just dipping below the treetops to the west of the mansion, painting the evening sky in pastel shades of pink and gold. Thin tendrils of cloud scudded rapidly overhead, carried by a cool ocean breeze and looking for all the world like elongated pink tufts of cotton candy skimming across the sky.

Kurt crouched in silence in the gathering dusk, golden eyes luminous in the descending twilight. He shifted slightly, elbows resting lightly on his thighs, hands dangling, relaxed, between his knees as he lovingly fingered the smooth wooden beads of a worn rosary. His lips moved slightly, almost soundlessly as he prayed the decades of the rosary, each worn bead a comfort to his hands as his mind called up the accompanying prayer.


_Gegrusset seist Du, Maria. Du bist voll der Gnade; der Herr ist mit dir. Du bist gebenedeit unter den Frauen, und gebenedeit ist die Frucht deines Leibes, Jesus. Heilige Maria, Mutter Gottes, bitte fur uns Sunder, jetzt und in der Stunde unseres Todes. Amen._


He paused and took a deep breath, watching as the last color faded from the evening sky, leaving him in darkness both real and metaphorical. He could no longer maintain the illusion of peace, even to himself. He groaned in frustration as he clutched his rosary in a suddenly tense fist. His tail lashed angrily behind him as he briefly clenched his eyes shut against mingled frustration and exhaustion, only to have them snap abruptly open only a second later as nightmare threatened to come clawing at him from the darkness behind his eyes.

Usually the simple ritual of praying the rosary could bring him the peace he sought, but not tonight. He'd tried in English, German and even Latin and the familiar litany seemed only to brush at the ragged fringes of his tension, aggravating rather than alleviating his frustration until even the fragile illusion of serenity was lost.

He jumped down from the low wall where he had perched with a muffled curse and stuffed his rosary unceremoniously back into the pocket of his baggy trousers. So much for the cautious optimism of Sunday, this week had definitely gone to Hell in the proverbial hand basket.

His fists clenched and unclenched rhythmically at his sides as he stalked, tail lashing, in the direction of the forest. He was teetering on the thin edge of self-control and didn't want to risk running into anyone until, or unless, he could manage to recover himself. He wasn't quite at the point of being a menace, but he certainly wasn't capable of concealing his distress and there was no way in hell he wanted to run into a well-intentioned friend who would pressure him to air his dirty laundry. Sixteen years of being a 'freak' had taught him one lesson very well - no useful purpose was ever served by 'sharing' the pain. It didn't solve his problems and it worried those around him. Much better to hide behind a false smile and a smoke screen of humor. The only problem was, at the moment he could manage neither.

Kitty lay in a disconsolate heap across her small cot, staring blankly at the featureless metal ceiling above her. She knew that tomorrow, after school, they would finally be moving back into the mansion after three months in the 'vault', but she just couldn't muster the energy to care. From the hallway outside her door she could hear the eager chatter of her friends and team-mates as they packed essentials so they could move in as soon as they got home tomorrow. No one wanted to spend a second longer in this metal tomb than necessary, her included, but she couldn't bring herself to share in their enthusiasm either.

She sighed deeply and tried to convince herself to at least get up and pack a bag so she'd have her clothes ready to move over. It wasn't like it would take more than one bag anyway. But instead of getting up and starting to work she felt a single tear slide slowly down her cheek.

This had been one of the worst weeks of her life, and she was getting so tired of pretending otherwise. She missed Kurt. Missed his lighthearted banter, his stupid jokes, his teasing and tongue in cheek gallantry. She missed her best friend and it was her own stupidity that had driven him away. She felt a second tear slide down to join the first and knew that the flood gates were about to blow wide open when a voice at the door jolted her out of her self pity.

"Okay Roomie, spill!"

Kitty looked up in surprise, hurriedly brushing at the evidence of her tears. Rogue stood in the doorway to their room, arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently, an exasperated look on her face.

"What?" Kitty askedconfconfusion, trying with only partial success to slap a veneer of composure over her roiling sorrow.

"Ah said, _spill_ Kitty Pryde and Ah meant it. What the heck are you all bent outa shape over? Ah'm sick'a your hangdog look and all the mopin' and sighin' goin' on around here."

"I don't know *what* you're talking about," Kitty replied. "And I am *not* moping," she said indignantly. "*And* what do you mean *'hangdog look'*!" she added as an afterthought, levering herself up to a sitting position as she spoke. It was more than a little difficult to maintain an air of affronted dignity from a supine position.

"Oh come off it Kitty! You know exactly what Ah'm talkin' about. Ah ain't stupid ya know, and neither is anyone else around here!" Rogue had moved into the room and closed the door behind her as she spoke. A fact for which Kitty was becoming increasingly grateful as the older girl continued her tirade. "If Ah've put two and two tagether an' come up with four, then it won't be too long b'fore someone else manages to. The only reason you've avoided the gossip mill for this long is that everyone's so worked up about finally movin' _home_ that they haven't been payin' as much attention as usual. Ya might as well just fess up and get it over with, 'cause Ah ain't gonna leave off until ya do." As she finished speaking she dropped onto the bed next to the younger girl and fixed her with a stern glare.

Kitty's eyes had gone progressively wider throughout this monologue and now she stared, speechless, at her room mate as she tried to think of a response.

"What on _earth_ are you talking about?" she finally managed, not sounding half so indifferent as she could have wished. _Oh great, Pryde, just great. Could you have been just a *bit* more inarticulate maybe?_ she thought in frustration.

Rogue gave her another glare and let her breath out with an exasperated, "hmph!"

"Kitty, Ah don't know exactly what's goin' on, but it don't take a rocket scientist to see that you 'n' Kurt've had some kind of fallin' out. You guys've been thicker'n thieves for ages and now every time one of ya comes into a room, the other takes off like someone lit a fire under their ass-end." Rogue paused and looked at Kitty, the exasperation replaced by concern as she placed one gloved hand on the younger girl's arm. Kitty knew she looked like a deer in headlights, but she couldn't help it.

"Yer both starin' at each other every chance ya get, but never makin' eye contact and you, at least, are blushin' fit to light a room every time you catch sight of the fuzzball. He might be too for all I know - between the fur and the inducer ya can't ever really tell with him," Rogue continued, refusing to let the pressure up as her words bored into Kitty like a jack-hammer. "Ya both look like shit, and Ah ain't seen Kurt without his inducer on all week - a sure sign that he's tryin' ta hide _somethin'_ from us." She looked away briefly, shaking her head at some thought or memory.

"Come on Roomie," she said again, much more gently than the first time, "spill it. Tell me what's goin' on before Ah have to beat it outa ya with a stick," and she smiled reassuringly at Kitty, the expression incongruous on her usually cynical and detached features.

And suddenly Kitty couldn't take it any longer. The floodgates burst open and all her pain, uncertainty and sorrow came flooding out in a confused jumble as she threw herself into the older girl's arms and sobbed out her heartache on a sympathetic shoulder. Rogue was more than a little taken aback by the sudden outburst, but sat stoicly, arms wrapped awkwardly around the younger teen as she patted her back and tried to make soothing noises into Kitty's tangled brown hair.


As Rogue sat stiffly, with a limp, sobbing bundle of Kitty held awkwardly in her arms, she could't help thinking with chagrin that this was gonna play hell with her hard-ass image if any of the other kids found out about it.

Kurt moved silently through the looming darkness of the forest, eyes glowing an eerie gold in the quickly fading light. His passage was marked only by the occasional thump and rustle as he kicked at the shrubbery or snapped small branches in frustration. He finally came to a stop in a small clearing well away from the more frequented portions of the woods, not that it would matter this late in the day, and settled onto his back in the soft green of new spring grass. Folding his arms behind hiad, ad, he stared up through the roughly circular break in the forest canopy at the same wisps of cloud he'd seen earlier, this time ghostly silver in the light of an almost full moon.
It was a perfect evening and a glorious view, but it wasn't coming any closer to curing his agitation than his earlier prayers had. He shifted restlessly as his tail whipped through the grass beside him, beheading helpless, unsuspecting wildflowers with every pass.

He let the breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding out in an explosive sigh, closed his eyes and surrendered to the morbid impulse to mentally review the wreckage of the last four days.

To be fair, it didn't start out all that badly. _Ach, who am I kidding, of *course* it started out bad,_ he thought with exasperation. Sunday night had been an irremediable nightmare, both literally and figuratively. Admittedly he had managed to get out of the house without once running into Kitty Monday morning, but it had necessitated a stop at Gut Bomb to make up for the breakfast he'd had to abandon when he heard her coming into the dining hall.

Things had gone rapidly downhill from there. Amanda had been waiting for him by the main entrance when he arrived fifteen minutes early for class. Just a few short weeks ago he would have welcomed the chance to spend a little extra time with her, but more and more in the last few weeks he had found himself wondering just what, exactly, they were basing this relationship on. They seemed to have exhausted most topics of mutual conversational interest and now spent most of their time together either making out or with her harassing him in one way or another about hiding behind his image inducer.

While the first activity was undeniably quite pleasant, the second had gotten old quite some time ago. It didn't seem to matter how many times he changed the subject or diverted her suggestions or questions, she just couldn't leave the topic alone. Her insistence that people would love the 'real' him if he just gave them a chance simply didn't hold up in the face of overwhelming evidence to the contrary. Hell, he'd lived with the new kids for months, they were *mutants* for Christ's sake, and he still freaked most of _them_ out to one degree or another. But he couldn't bring himself to tell Amanda that every time someone rented a monster movie Jamie would avoid him for days. That Amara never got any closer to him than she had to. That even Bobby, Ray and Roberto still jumped if they came on him unexpectedly. To be honest, he wasn't sure if _any_ of the new kids had ever so much as touched him if it wasn't absolutely ssarssary. He didn't really like to think about any of this to begin with, he certainly wasn't going to tell Amanda. But if other mutants had that much trouble with him, how could he expect 'normals' to react any better.

It was getting harder and harder for him to deal politely with her tenacity on the issue. He had actually taken to avoiding being alone with her whenever possible lately. When they were with his friends she wouldn't bring up the subject - she'd been slapped down, none too politely, enough times by one or the other of them that she finally took the hint and left it alone in their presence. And she couldn't very well bring it up in front of her friends - much as she hounded him about 'coming out of the closet', even she wouldn't go so far as to reveal his secret without his permission. Well, at least he didn't _think_ she would. She had turned his holo off in public on a couple of occasions, but no one had actually been around at the time. No harm, no foul?

Of course, not that many of her friends hung around with her anymore now that they knew she was dating a 'mutie freak.' Kurt had actually felt bad about that at first - being responsible for her losing her friends - although it had felt good to have her stand by him. Now, he wasn't so sure. She actually seemed to be enjoying the attention, and even went out of her way sometimes to make sure that people knew that her boyfriend was one of the 'Institute kids.'

He hadn't really taken much note of how things were going though, until after the fiasco Toad had caused when he went to meet her parents. She had actually seemed _glad_ that they had seen him without his hologram and even that they had forbidden her to see him. He was getting the distinct impression that she was enjoying the opportunity to prove what a tolerant and liberal-minded person she was by continuing to see him against their wishes. In fact, being a 'martyr to her ideals' was fast becoming one of her favorite topics of conversation on the occasions when she left off on his need to stop hiding behind his image inducer.

Basically, when you got down to the nuts and bolts of it, he was pretty sure that it was his mutation she was attracted to, not him. He'd actually met this problem before, just never wrapped up in quite such a disarming and innocuous package. For the most part, he'd had no trouble informing such people that he wasn't really interested in being their 'pet freak', but this situation had him completely at a loss. He was stuck in an uncomfortable stew of guilt over what she'd already gone through because of him, intense discomfort at his analysis of her motives, and a barely acknowledged and, he felt, truly pathetic fear that maybe this _was_ as good as it was going to get - maybe the best he _could_ ever hope for was to be someone's 'pet freak', and at least this someone wasn't insultingly obvious about it.

So really, all things considered, Kurt wouldn't have been thrilled to run into Amanda on the best of mornings. This particular Monday morning Amanda hadn't been far from the top on the list of people he least wanted to see.
She had started in on him almost as soon as he walked through the door. Dragging him off to a corner by the lockers, she had proceeded to run her hands through the fur on his face and neck while starting in on how lucky he was to be so unique and how much _sexier_ he was without the holo on.

Not for the first time, he had had to viciously suppress the urge to tell her in graphic detail about just how _wonderful_ it was to go through life so 'unique.' He'd heard it before, but that morning he'd gone from zero to thoroughly pissed off in about ten seconds flat.

With a violent whip of his tail and a frustrated sigh Kurt decapitated the last clump of wildflowers within his reach. It wasn't very satisfying, but it was marginally better than screaming and throwing things. Deprived of that activity his tail settled in to beat erratically on the ground beside him, the only movement he allowed himself as he lay, eyes still shut, trying to ignore the fact that something very small, with way too many legs, was creeping slowly up the back of his neck.

He really didn't want to remember the ensuing conversation with Amanda, but his subconscious seemed determined to smack him upside the head with it whether he was interested or not.


"Amanda, I *really* don't want to have this conversation right now. In fact, I really don't want to have this conversation *ever* again." He'd known, as he spoke, that his voice was harsh and flat and pretty damned close to the freezing temperature of rubbing alcohol, but he really hadn't cared at the time.

Amanda had stepped back from him in confusion and given him a look that at any other time might have made him wonder if he'd suddenly sprouted horns, or grown a second head. Monday he hadn't really cared, he'd been close to the end of his tether and realized that he needed to get away from her before it snapped. She had opened her mouth to speak, but hesitated at the look of building fury on his face.

"I'm sorry Amanda," he'd managed to choke out, "but I'm just not in the mood right now. Maybe we can talk next week or something, but...right now I...I just think we need some time apart." He'd actually managed to moderate his tone somewhat by the end, inspired in part by the dawning look of disbelief on her face. He didn't really want to hurt her after all, he just didn't want to be with her.

"But Kurt..." she'd started, eyes beginning to brim.

"I'm really sorry, Amanda," he'd said again, and amazingly, he'd actually kind of meant it this time. "I've gotta go. We'll...we'll maybe talk sometime next week, okay?" and he'd shouldered his backpack and moved off towards his first class before she could say anything to stop him. Her response had settled him somewhat, but he still had to get out of there before he said anything that couldn't be unsaid.

He'd known, without having to look back, that she was standing there in shock, watching him leave. He had actually tensed his shoulders as he'd walked away in anticipation of her chasing him down the hall and making a scene. Thank God she'd had more dignity than that. The way he had been teetering on the brink he either would have caved in with an abject apology or completely snapped and dressed her down at top volume in front of God and everybody. At the time he hadn't been sure which possibility disturbed him more.


The rest of the week had really just been a hazy blur of general misery punctuated by brief but vivorayorays into total hell. It felt like he'd spent the week playing hide and seek both at school and at home. Hiding in the library or the gym, trying to avoid both Kitty and Amanda now. Kitty at least cooperated by avoiding him back. Amanda, on the other hand, took every opportunity to fix him with accusing glares or looks of teary eyed misery. Those weren't nearly as painful, though, as the times when he'd catch sight of Kitty across a room or down a hall and see her look quickly away, blushing scarlet or with the color draining from her face.

He'd actually been kind of grateful when he'd received detention on Tuesday for falling asleep in chemistry and again today for the same transgression in Algebra. The hour he'd spent cleaning classrooms each day had simply been two more hours in the week that he hadn't had to worry about avoiding Kitty.

At least the push to get the work done on the mansion had everyone from home so distracted that he wasn't catching shit from any of them for acting so weird or never turning off his holo. His injuries had almost all healed now, but he knew he was starting to drop weight and look fairly haggard and gaunt from the stress, so he was still using the image inducer for most of his waking hours. Evan had given him a couple of funny looks and Jean seemed a bit suspicious, but between working with Scott and Logan on plumbing and finish carpentry, and begging off anything 'social' due to homework he'd managed to avoid both of them, and pretty much everyone else almost entirely.

The biggest problem he'd had all week, though, was the simple fact that even though he'd run himself to exhaustion in the Danger Room Sunday night and every night since, it hadn't been enough to stop him dreaming. He didn't understand, he was no stranger to gruesome and disturbing nightmares, but always in the past physical exhaustion had been sufficient to keep them at bay. He couldn't fathom why that was no longer the case and he was rapidly reaching the end of his endurance.

Sometimes it was a variation of the nightmare from Saturday, never quite so vivid or overwhelming as that first time, but more than sufficient to wake him trembling in a cold sweat and filled with rage and shame. He had taken to eating sparingly at dinner, nothing more than he could metabolize in the Danger Room each night, due to the odds that it would all just come back up again within a few hours anyway. Almost as disturbing, however, were the times when he awoke painfully aroused, his breath hitching in remembered passion, with the taste of strawberries and the feel of soft flesh burning in his memory. Worst of all, though, was when one merged into the other - when it was Kitty's voice calling him an animal, her cruel, heartless laugh in the darkness behind him, or when she cried out in pain and fear beneath him, begging him to stop, to leave her alone, to please not hurt her, and he would wake, sobbing silently.

The silence, at least, was something to be thankful for. He had been thoroughly conditioned to silence and even now, after all these years, he could not break it - not with anything louder than the tiniest of involuntary sounds, not even in his sleep. At least that meant he didn't have to contend with Scott again. The older boy could sleep through almost anything, the few moans or whimpers that escaped Kurt in the clutches of dream or nightmare didn't disturb him in the least.

With the descent of full dark, the sounds of a forest night had overtaken the small clearing. Cicadas were singing their hearts out, the grass rustled with the passage of the small, shy creatures of the darkness, and the soft call of an owl was followed swiftly by the almost silent rustle of its wings as it launched itself after prey. The cool spring night was aglow with the myriad tiny sparks of fireflies dancing through the night, and bright moonlight flooded the small clearing.

With a quiet moan of anguish Kurt rolled over in the now damp grass, face buried in his crossed arms, completely and uncharacteristically oblivious to the beauty around him. Pushing himself tiredly to his feet, he set off on the return journey to the bunker. It was time for his nightly date with the Danger Room. Just because it hadn't worked yet, didn't mean he could afford to stop trying. Besides, who knew how much worse his nights might be if he _did_.


It had taken Kitty a good ten minutes to cry herself out and then at least twenty more, with Rogue prodding her doggedly along, to get out the story of Saturday afternoon and its aftermath. Now she sat there, red-faced, puffy-eyed and staring dejectedly at the floor, while Rogue attempted to make sense of the jumble of information she'd just managed to pry out of the younger girl.
She'd tried to be non-judgmental and supportive through Kitty's anguished confession, but she knew she now had much the same deer in headlights look to her that Kitty had had earlier.

Kitty and Kurt? Well, stranger things _had_ happened. And the tail thing? _Don't *even* wanta think about that!_ she told herself emphatically. _Way too much information._

She'd kind of suspected some of what was going to come out from the way the two had been acting lately, and from the nature of the dreams Kitty had obviously been having off and on all week. But it was still kind of gross to know that anyone, especially her _room-mate_, thought of her 'little brother' that way. What really got her though, sitting there looking at Kitty's miserable face, was the absolute certainty that the both of them had been putting themselves through hell all week over nothing.

She looked at the younger girl with a mixture of pity and disgust and finally spoke into the awkward silence that had filled the room since Kitty had stopped kingking. "Kitty, do you have any idea how damned stupid you can be sometimes?" She spoke very slowly and clearly, with little trace of her usual southern drawl, to make sure that her room-mate understood every word.

Kitty's head snapped up in surprise at both her words and tone of voice. She had obviously been expecting something more supportive or understanding. Rogue could almost laugh at the comic look of confusion and anger on the younger teen's face if the situation weren't so damned pathetic.

She didn't even give Kitty a chance to protest or question, but carried grimly on with what had to be said. "Have you ever, _ever_ in all the time you've known Kurt, seen 'im hold a grudge? Against anybody, for any reason?" Kitty was still looking at her in total confusion, not yet catching on to what she had figured out almost immediately. "Kitty, think about it ya eedjit. Hell, I'm not sure he even hates any of the Brotherhood, an' if they haven't asked for in then no one has."

Kitty's expression was starting to change from confusion to dawning understanding. "What Ah'm sayin' here Sugar, is if ya had ever bothered ta kick your brain inta gear here, yuld'uld've realized that the fuzzball is a helluva lot more likely to be blamin' himself for _whatever_ happened than he is ta be holdin' anythin' against you - ya damn fool." Rogue realized she was being a bit harsh with her friend, especially as she watched all color drain from her face while the look of confusion was replaced with a sick kind of horror, but she seemed to have exhausted her rather limited store of empathy for the time being. Kitty was just going to have to settle for takit iit in the teeth like a big girl. Besides, she wasn't too damn happy with the thought that, knowing Kurt, he had probably spent this entire week putting himself through ten kinds of guilt induced hell over what really amounted to a misunderstanding. A pretty yucky misunderstanding, but still...

And Kitty _really_ should've had the sense not to start anything with Kurt in the first place. He _had_ a girlfriend for crying out loud, or he had until recently anyway. Now Rogue found herself wondering if the tension she'd noticed with Amanda this week had anything to do with what Kitty had told her. But considering that Kitty had been stupid enough to start something, at least Kurt had had sense enough not to finish it and Kitty really should've known better than to think Kurt would hold a grudge over something like that.

_I mean, come *on* Kitty, this is Kurt we're talking about here girl. The day he holds anything short of cold-blooded murder against 'his Kaetzchen' will be the day Bobby Drake takes over management of Hell!_ she thought with more than her usual asperity. _I mean yeah, it was worth some embarrassment, maybe a few awkward moments, but this has just gotten totally out of hand._

Apparently Kitty agreed with her, because the younger girl surged abruptly to her feet and announced in a rather breathless voice. "Like, oh my Gawd, Rogue. You are so right. Oh my Gawd, I've been, like, so damn *stupid*. I've got to go find him, right now, and get this straightened out before I lose my nerve."

She left the room so fast that Rogue didn't have a chance to tell her not to waste her time. She'd seen Kurt head off into the woods right at dusk as she was coming down from above, and she was pretty certain he hadn't come back yet. But Kitty would find that out for herself soon enough, and her absence gave Rogue a chance to do her packing in peace and quiet. With any luck she could finish and be in bed and at least faking sleep before Kitty came back from her probably fruitless search. At least that way she could avoid having to listen to the younger girl agonize over the situation ad nausea.

With a resigned sigh, she dragged a duffel bag out from under her bed and began to throw her relatively meager possessions into it, nowhere near as neatly as she usually would have. _Damn it'll be good ta git outa this dump and back home_, she thought. _Ah won't even mind window washin' duty anymore, it'll be so nice just ta *have* a window again._

She was still awake when Kitty crept dejectedly back in an hour and a half later, but she did a good job of faking sleep and managed to avoid any recaps of the evening. It was obvious both from the younger girl's demeanor and her mumbled commentary that she had not found the furry blue teleporter. Rogue forced herself to roll over and turn a deaf ear to the girl's softly voiced compaints. Tomorrow was plenty of time to clear things up with Kurt, they'd both survived the week so far, one more night of misunderstanding wasn't going to kill anyone after all.

It was well after midnight before Kitty finally settled down and went to sleep, still mumbling intermittently to herself about how incredibly dense she'd been, but by then Rogue didn't really care, she'd managed to drift off quite a while before. Her night, unfortunately, was filled with rather disturbing images of Kitty and her _brother_, for Christ's sake, doing things she'd really rather _not_ imagine. _Ah mean, if it had been just about *anyone* else, that might've counted as a pretty good night, but *not* with *Kurt and Kitty* involved._

When she woke up, bleary eyed and running late for school the next morning, she pledged to herself that she was going to make Kitty _pay_ for putting those images in her head in the first place - right after she figured out how to get at her brain so she could scrub the damned things out of there with bleach if necessary. _Oh, gross!_



TRANSLATIONS

Gegrusset seist Du, Maria. Du bist voll der Gnade; der Herr is mit dir. Du bist gebenedeit unter den Frauen, und gebenedeit ist die Frucht deines Leibes, Jesus. Heilige Maria, Mutter Gottes, bitte fur uns Sunder, jetzt und in der Stunde unseres Todes. Amen.
Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God: pray for us, sinners, now and at the hour of our death.