Perfectly Normal

Perfectly Normal
Disclaimers: I own NOTHING you recognize here. Marvel Comics and associated entities own the X Men and all related trademarks, and anything else I have cited or borrowed I try to note who owns it or where it comes from. I make no profit from this work of fan fiction. This fic contains adult themes and language so if this bothers you please go elsewhere. Thanks.

A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta… Has the computer risen from the dead? InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink, Dracena and Greywolf are loverly and wondermous for archiving/hosting. J ProPhile: How many sets of stars DO you have? Morgan: *sneaky stalk * Readers/Reviewers: Thank you SO much for sticking with me this far! *glomps all *




“He looks so…”
“Old,” Bobby supplied, chewing his lower lip nervously. “He looks old.”
“I was going to say ‘so much better than yesterday’,” Kurt said sharply. He averted his gaze from the Professor, prone in the narrow hospital bed, and favored his friend with a glare. “He does not look any older than he did before…” In truth, the Professor looked oddly fragile, small and sick. His lips were still faintly blue but they were not as bad as two days before, the day he had been brought to the hospital. Kurt’s heart was beating jerkily, his innate fear of hospitals and death mingling and bringing him to the verge of a panic attack. “What’s going to happen to him?” he asked quietly, his gaze shifting to Storm, standing at the foot of the bed. Her long hair was tied back in a loose knot at the nape of her neck, her clothing wrinkled and not entirely fresh after two days sleeping on a hospital couch.

“He’s going to be transferred to a different room tomorrow,” she sighed. “The heart attack was not as bad as they first thought but he cannot be released yet.” She leaned forward and almost absently squeezed the Professor’s foot beneath the hospital sheet. “They’re giving him some medicine to make sure there’s no blood clots and they’re going to do some more tests and…” she trailed off, yawning.

“And we’ll see from there,” Logan put in from the doorway. “C’mon, Ro,” he said in a kind but firm voice. “Shift change. Emma’s gonna drive you all back to the house and I’m sitting up here for a while.” He did not brook any argument, taking Storm by the elbow and leading her into the hall.

Kurt and Bobby followed slowly. “Did anyone call Kitty yet?” Kurt asked quietly, his fingers itching as he thought of calling her, the urge to dial her number almost too great to resist. _Surely giving her space doesn’t mean not to call in an emergency… _

Bobby nodded. “Logan did, when we knew for sure the Professor was going to be okay. Ish.” He smiled as Saint John approached, breaking away from Kurt to go to his boyfriend.

“Wunderbar,” Kurt sighed, dropping to sit in one of the hard, plastic seats Saint Dymphna’s provided for the Cardiac ICU waiting area. “Spring is in the air and I’m the only one alone.” He stretched his holo-disguised legs out before him and glared hatefully at his specially made shoes, designed to accommodate his feet. He would not begrudge Kitty her freedom, especially not right now. If she loved him, his mother had told him firmly, she would come back. If she loved someone else, he should be happy she finds happiness, Astrid had continued. Kurt frowned and thumped his heels in agitation on the linoleum tiles. Logan was holding onto Storm, her head on his shoulder as they murmured together just outside Professor Xavier’s room; Saint John and Bobby were near the nurse’s station, standing close together but not touching in their self conscious way. Jean and Scott were further down the hall, Jean’s pale face turned towards Scott’s concerned frown. She still wore her scrubs from work and blended in with the employees of the special hospital. Kurt had not felt so along in a very long time. He forced himself to his feet and started towards the elevator, determined not to be self pitying while the Professor lay on the edge of death just yards away. Emma was nowhere to be seen as he neared the bank of elevators, but that was no surprise. The day before she had burst into tears and run from the room upon seeing Professor Xavier, only to be found in the waiting area, stone faced and silent and denying anything had happened when questioned by Storm. Kurt jabbed at the “down” button set into the wall, the clicking noise just annoying him. “Come on,” he muttered, jabbing at it again and again in what he knew to be an exercise in futility. A faint ding sounded and the silver doors slid open.

“Kurt!” Kitty practically flew at him, her arms going around his neck and her familiar, warm body pressing against him. Her purse clattered to the ground, spilling mascara and lip stick and powder and tampons and her cell phone across the off white floor. She had been crying, her eyes red-rimmed and shining. Kurt’s presence when the doors slid opened had just set her off again, his familiarity too much to bear.

“Katzchen,” he sighed automatically, his own arms going around her, his eyes closing as he inhaled her scent, the strawberries and cream smell of her skin and hair, the faint incense tinge to the edges of his awareness. She was bundled against the last throes of winter, layers of t-shirt and sweater and coat adding to the softness of her, the sheer Kitty-ness of her. “Are you okay?” he finally asked, pushing her away just enough to see her face.

“I’m fine,” she breathed, pushing her grown-out bangs from her eyes. “I couldn’t get a train yesterday because of midterms and I couldn’t get one today because I overslept but…” she paused as someone stepped up behind her.

“Kitty, I parked in the garage instead of the street.”

Kurt looked up, his eyes narrowing and his heart dropping to his ankles. “Pete, right? This is a personal event. You’ll have to wait downstairs.”