Very much NSFW fic continued from yesterday:
Fracture Forty-Five: Survival
They had him in for ‘observation’, and Kurt felt creeping paranoia overcome him. Yes, it was a hospital for mutants, but it was still a hospital. Hospitals gave him hackle trouble, in that his were always up when he was in one.
There was actually nothing wrong with the place. The staff were friendly, outgoing, patient, marvellously colourblind and could actually be relied upon to treat him like a human being without needing to be 'prepped’ by a third party.
The accommodations were next to luxurious. The views - when he was allowed to wear his holowatch and look outside - were marvellous. Even the food was good. Nutritious, delicious, and calorie-rich, just for him.
He just hated hospitals.
“Cagey, huh?” Nurse Caroline scared the skin off him for the third time that day. “Can’t say I blame you. Us physical mutants have it rough in places like this. At least *I* can cover up with makeup - although I was always afraid it’d slip, somehow… and everything would go pear-shaped because of me.”
“Try being burned at the stake sometime,” said Kurt. “It makes you *really* appreciate being able to hide.”
Caroline laughed. Her mutation made her an empath and something of a healer. It also mottled her skin, giving her a pattern of pale spots against her dark skin.
Kurt found it quite alluring, and would have flirted on general principals were it not for the wedding band on her finger, and the fact that Kitty would probably kill him.
“You should be glad that you don’t have to hide while you’re here," she told him.
"I’m still in a hospital,” Kurt said. “And it still gives me the creeps.”
“Too many cheesy Sci-fi films as a kid, right?”
Kurt nodded. “That *could* be a contributing factor. But I think the large number of people who mistake me for a demon might have something to do with it, ja?”
“Then you can just relax,” said Caroline. “We only excorcise demons. It’s the *aliens* that get dissected.”
Kurt had to laugh.
*
Bluebelle watched the needle. This time, stuff didn’t go in, it came out. Blood.
“That’s not how Mistress gets blood,” she told Doctor Hank.
“Mistress isn’t here,” he said, tinkering with lab equipment. “There's a little something called the Hippocratic Oath that all doctors have to uphold. One of it’s chief phrases is, 'above all else, do no harm’; that means that any treatment or test should be as uninvasive as possible.”
“What do you want the blood *for*?” Bluebelle asked. “You aren’t going to make me eat it, are you?” Personally, she always hated that part. It made her sick.
Doctor Hank laughed. “No. I just need it so that I can run a few tests. Kurt’s worried that you might have caught something nasty from your time with Hess and her cronies.”
Bluebelle frowned. “I don’t get it,” she admitted. “How can you test *blood*?”
Doctor Hank moved into lecture mode as he measured out various liquids into test tubes. “These chemicals are designed to change colour when they encounter specific antibodies. You remember about antibodies, don't you?”
Bluebelle nodded. Even though there’d been pictures of blobby things, she kept imagining little tiny soldiers in her blood. Little elf-shaped soldiers, for the record.
“Well in most cases, for each disease, there’s an antibody. And since it’s easier to find them than the disease, we test for them like this." He dropped a drop of blood into a tube, then shook it up. "If it stays clear, then the antibody is not present.”
“But - what happens to the heemagoblins?”
“Haemaglobins,” Doctor Hank corrected. “Your blood cells are still there, just dispersed to the point where their pigment is no longer visible. Just like putting a drop of food colouring into your bath.” He shook up more test tubes. “And no, I’m not suggesting you test out that analogy.”
Bluebelle giggled, her hand automatically covered her mouth, but it was a negligent gesture. “How long does it take to change colour?”
“An hour or three.”
“That’s *forever*,” Bluebelle complained.
“You can always work on your math to help pass the time,” Doctor Hank suggested.
She groaned under her breath. Math was tricky stuff. She hadn’t known about all *sorts* of numbers. There were remainders and dividers and negatives and fractions and all *sorts* of things. There were even imaginary numbers, like infinity and the square root of minus two. And every time she seemed to have it pinned down, there’d be another twist to the whole mess.
But she did like drawing graphs, though.
Bluebelle supposed it was her own fault for asking questions, because Doctor Hank *loved* answering them. Sometimes he got so into answering a question that he’d go into very confusing explanations that left her feeling lost in a sea of answers. Sometimes, he’d even stop himself and realise that he’d gone too far ahead for her, and tell her to worry about whatever-it-was at another time.
Just the concept of infinity had had her sitting quietly for *days*.
Maybe another question would take his mind off of making her do math.
“Doctor Hank? Why are Daddy and me so different?”
“The correct grammar is 'Daddy and I’, Bluebelle.”
“Sorry. Why are Daddy and *I* so different?”
Doctor Hank smiled. “Now *that* is a subject close to my heart…”
Bluebelle hid her grin behind both hands. Well, at least it got her out of math.
*
Kurt blinked in the sunshine and felt weird about having his hologram on. After all this time wanting to go outside, he wanted to retreat back *in* now that he’d got his wish. It was safe in there. Out here, it was a world full of Hess-ish nightmares. Re-lived again and again until something snapped.
_I’m stronger than she is,_ he told himself. _I can take her down and make sure she stays there. I can do it._
Herr Murdock was waiting for him. “The court’s ready for you whenever you’re ready for it,” he said. “I’d like for you to testify as soon as you’re able.”
Kurt consulted briefly with his Masks. “How’s this afternoon for you?”
*
The media was making an almighty flap about him being just released from hospital, and still testifying against Hess. He tried to find a calm centre, to ignore the snapping of cameras and the baying of the media. He could do it with Ragdoll and the Archivist helping him. Just barely.
The flashes nearly blinded him.
“Kurt!”
“Kurt!”
“Kurt!”
“What did she say to you?”
“What did she do to you?”
“Why did you throw a fit in the middle of the courtroom?”
“Why did you scream?”
“Have you anything to say?”
“Do you know *why* Hess says you’re a demon?”
“What about your daughter?”
“Kurt! Which one of your personas was in control on the highway?”
“How many personalities do you have?”
“Kurt!”
He sighed. They weren’t going to give up any time soon. They were going to jabber at him until he went deaf out of self defence. “Please. Leave me *alone*. Whatever I have to say, I’ll say it in court. Just leave me alone.”
They didn’t. Cameras loomed into his face and media people jostled against him. He felt sick with worry. Ill with fear.
_I’m stronger than that. I’m stronger than her. *We* are strong. We'll *be* strong._
It was a long, long walk into the courtroom, where most of the media were banned for being too rowdy. Kurt almost sighed with relief when they entered the media-free-zone, blinking away the flashbulb’s after-effects from his eyes.
By that time, a bailiff was leading him up to the witness stand. Hess seemed surprised to see him, and was chewing words up under her breath. He was sure he lip-read, 'filthy little demon’ at least once. Kurt smiled winningly at her and the scowling defence lawyer.
He recognised more than a few faces in the audience. Sibylle Jarelmann. Big Sven. Ilse Wurtig. _What the–?_ He looked around. There were centaurs standing on the edges of the courtroom’s audience section, as if anybody could really *stop* a centaur from going where they wanted to go. Even Andreii was there, and nodded him encouragement.
Heirelgart was here.
Kurt grinned, and whispered at Hess. “You have no power over me, old woman. No power at all.”
He stood as straight as he could, and put his hand on the bible.
“Do you solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?”
Kurt stared straight at Hess when he said, “Yes.”
