Hiding

Same disclaimer as before- I don't own any of Marvel's characters. This chapter is a little short but I'm working on some more.
Big Thanks to my Beta, Magnus- I think he's the best man for the real Kitty Pryde


Tired of reminiscing, Roisin gathered up the outfit she’d made this evening and the accessories she’d plucked from the shelves. She carried them in one arm as she flicked the light off with her tail- the most coordinated movement she was able to get out of it, she thought as she mentally compared it to the prehensile abilities of Kurt’s tail. Hadn’t she seen him holding a wineglass with it earlier? She briefly allowed herself to wonder what other kinds of things he could do with it before dragging herself back to reality. She wanted to help him get rid of his feelings of remorse and guilt and shame, not make them worse!

On her way back to her room she glanced in again at the sleeping form of Kurt on the couch. Still wound up into a little tiny ball, she noticed that his tail swayed back and forth slightly in time to his breathing. She placed the bundle of clothing and accessories on the floor by the hall and took a few quiet steps toward him, feeling that she really shouldn’t do this without asking him first. Still, she reasoned, he was obviously a very proud man, and if she was going to help him get better, she had to know what she was up against. She leaned in over him, admiring the way his smooth pelt glided over his muscles. She thought the pajamas she’d made for him fit pretty well considering she’d only had those few fleeting moments on the bed before to get an idea of what size to make them. She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on the feelings inside him. A few seconds later, overcome with nausea, she ran from the room and barely made it up the stairs and to the bathroom in time to empty her guts into the bowl. Sitting back against the closed bathroom door, she wiped the sweat from her brow. This was going to be a lot harder than she thought.

The feelings and images she’d received taken! from him were seared into her mind now. She could feel his contentment and pride as he put on his priestly vestments and got a glimpse of the young Kurt praying as a small boy, wishing that the hand of God would be extended to someone as demonic looking as him. There were moments of carefree joviality and dancing around- apparently Kurt had been somewhat of a clown in his younger days. She felt his giddy excitement at finding a collection of Errol Flynn movies in a video store. She was aware of the love he’d felt for a woman-flashes of blonde hair and two names came to her- Amanda and Jimaine? Both names were associated with the same woman and this same woman also strongly resembled the young girl he’d grown up with in the circus in Europe. Another woman, this one alien and birdlike, with a crest of feathers on her head and an incredibly muscled body flashed as well, and though the feeling was somewhat like the ones she experienced when she thought back on the blonde woman, there were also feelings of resentment and contempt. Another woman, covered in unusual markings and stark naked over him as he awoke and the simultaneous desire and self-disgust he radiated out and the relief he felt when he was distracted for a mission of some sort.

Images of Logan were rampant, most of them accompanied by a feeling of excitement and adrenaline, and Roisin figured this was what “boys will be boys” felt like. Others, whom she were assumed were X-Men, figured strongly into his emotions also. Clearly they were his family. Not for the first time in her life, Roisin wished she were able to filter out which emotion to experience. She was exhausted and still felt ill from that final image she’d had from him before running for the bathroom. There were so many emotions and images -Roisin had never felt feeings of such intensity and variety from anyone she'd ever tried to read empathically before. It was exhausting, and very difficult to filter out specifics- flashes came one after the other, each one with an emotion of such substance that she was able to feel her gut twisting. Battles with opponents of appearances and abilities so varied that Roisin knew she could sit in front of thesaurus for the rest of her life and never find words to describe them accurately flashed as well, but it was still that most recent battle- the one that repeated over and over- that brought the bile up in her throat again.

She could feel Kurt’s shock and horror at his friends’ announcement that they were totally unaware of his priesthood and ordination, and the growing feeling of dread that started small in his gut but grew and grew as the team discussed it. She felt his feelings of utter despair at the images of the young people she understood were mutants he knew crucified on the front yard of the mansion. She was grateful that she was only able to pick up on his feelings, and not those of the children strung up on the crosses. Hollow and empty and lost were the most descriptive words she could think of as the memory and it’s associated emotions rushed through her. When she felt Kurt standing over the dying priest and felt his hurt and betrayal at the man’s words “I never thought I’d like you” and even more stabbing the echo of “we couldn’t curb you of your lustful desires” she realized that she knew exactly what had happened earlier this evening when they’d been up in her bedroom and he'd leapt off of her after he'd run his unique hands over her body. She felt really awful now, not only for the emotional mangler she’d just gone through, but also for the knowledge that she’d added to his despair. She felt certain that if she’d held on a few moments longer she’d learn things about this evening and herself and was grateful that these were still secret from her.

Suddenly another wave of nausea overtook her and she was sick again and again. Sasn\asn't sure if it was what she'd been through with his emotions or the guilt she felt at taking them without his knowledge or permission or guilt from adding to his hurt. She was shaking now, the sweat growing cold on her body. She crawled away from the bowl and stood up shakily. Leaning over into the sink she rested her forehead against the cool basin of the sink and repeated the mantra of anyone who’d ever suffered a bout of violent vomiting- thank you sink, for being so cold. She felt terribly guilty for reading Kurt without his permission but even more sympathy for the pain he had gone through. She still hoped she would be able to help. Standing less shakily now, she washed her face and brushed her teeth before tiptoeing downstairs to grab the outfit she’d made and returning to her room and collapsing on the bed, on top of all the blankets and the clothing from before.

She closed her eyes and slept.