As per the fic war… go old school. Kitty realizes her feelings for Kurt after he dies in some horrible manner. KILL ME.
[AN: Fic war prompts will have priority while they are in my inbox. I will get to the others in the fullness of time.]
They got most of the people out. Not all. Nobody could have got all of them out. And for a change everyone was working together. Lance beside Scott. Fred beside Jean. Pietro beside Ororo… and Todd beside Kurt.
They found Todd, bruised and battered, chattering a storm as he tried to lift rubble with muscles more adapted to jumping and bouncing. And what he was chattering was a litany of denial.
“Don'chu dare be dead, fuzzbutt. Be in a bubble or sump'in. Teleport out an’ diss me, I don’ care. Just don’t be dead yo’ stoopid fuzzy fre–” his voice stopped.
Kitty was still picking her way over the pile. Still some meters away. But she still heard him whisper, “Aw fuck,” as clearly as if she was right next to him.
Todd moved more carefully, now. Heaving pieces of former building away with careful respect.
She could see his tail. His three-fingered hand.
Kitty didn’t remember getting to him. She was just… there. Using her power to lift him free of the debris. Placing him carefully down. He wasn’t cold. She expected death to be cold. The warmth of him fooled her. Made her think that any second, now, he’d breathe in. Gasp. Cough. Despite the fact that his entire rib cage was not a shape that belonged to the living.
…any second now…
“Please, Fuzzy,” she whimpered. “Please just breathe.”
He’d always been there. The fly in her ointment. The pesky clown when things were serious. The chief cause of smiles on a bad day. The one person who knew how to cheer her up.
…any second now…
She had to try. Tilt his head right back. Push her air into his lungs. All that came out was a ghastly bubbling noise and blood.
“Ain’t nobody could–” Todd began. “I’m sorry, yo. He ain’t–”
Todd was crying, too.
“Damnit, Kurt,” Kitty managed. “Why?” Why did he have to go… just when she needed him most?