Fanfic Time: Don't Pity Me part 39

Very much NSFW fic continued from yesterday:

Fracture Thirty-Nine: Helping to Forget

  They’d told Lance to confess his crime to the police, as it was the only way he could ‘get rid of the guilt’. In the meantime, Jean zapped him into a dreamless sleep - shortly before the Professor gave her a lecture about taking justice into one’s hands and when to tell one was overdoing it.

  Kitty lingered in the medical bay after everyone was gone, watching Hank tidy up.

  “You *are* a doctor, aren’t you, Mr McCoy?”

  “All I lack is my internship,” he said. “I was going to do that shortly before my transformation.”

  “So, you could like, prescribe stuff and like, stuff?”

  Hank smiled. “Ah, the alterior motive presents itself. Yes, I can provide you with a prescription for something, though I’d prefer you took the issue up with a properly qualified GP.”

  Kitty went red. “Well… more like a family planning centre…” she mumbled.

  Hank raised an eyebrow. “I thought you and Kurt weren’t -er–”

  “Not yet,” said Kitty. “But - you know… It’s gotta like, happen soon. He’s like, *way* grabbier than like, Lance was and like - I guess… I’ve decided that if it happens I wanna be like, prepared and junk?” She went even redder and her voice lowered. “And since I’ve like, 'filled out’? My -um- myperiodshavestartedupagain.”

  Hank chuckled. “There’s no need for embarrassment; it’s all part of becoming an adult. You’d know that if you read that book Kurt gave you instead of looking at the pictures.”

  “But - the pictures are so *distracting*. I’ll like - try.” She scratched her arm. “But I still like, need - youknow - insurance.”

  “I don’t think Kurt would ever rape you. It just isn’t his style.”

  “I know that, but like, he’s so - so –”

  “Demonstrative?”

  “Yeah! Lance like, hardly touched me. Like, ever.” She looked at the floor and muttered, “I don’t like, have much basis for comparison, you know…”

  Hank patted her shoulder. “Again, nothing to be ashamed of. Especially in this day and age. You’re worried about getting pregnant, yes?”

  Kitty nodded, turning beetroot.

  “You also have to consider other consequences. Especially considering your partners’ -er- histories. You could already have caught something nasty. And Kurt may also be a carrier.”

  “…OmyGod…” Kitty cringed.

  “There’s a standard blood test you can take,” he offered.

  Kitty held out her arm and squinched her eyes shut.

  Kids and needles. They were almost all the same. Except Kurt and Bluebelle. Needles were the least of their worries.

  Hank took the necessary blood and told Kitty to come back the next day for the results. And to talk to Kurt about the possibilities of communicable diseases.

  He’d barely began on Kitty’s test when Kurt barged in demanding his own. He could hardly sit still whilst he waited for Hank to quit fiddling with test tubes. By the time Hank was ready, Kurt was tying himself in knots with anxiety.

  Literally.

  “So,” he said conversationally, “Just how do you expect me to find a vein when you’re like that?”

  “Er…” Kurt untangled himself and sat properly for a change. “Like this?”

  Frankly, Hank was surprised he could actually sit like that, what with the tail and all. Still, he’d evidently figured it out. He readied a clean needle and proceeded.

*

  Kitty had started wearing her new wardrobe. It was still a little loose on her, but she was filling it up nicely. She was glowing, too, and not just because Logan’s training helped her gain muscle as well as fat. Every time he touched her, she’d shine.

  So, of course, he had to touch her. A hand held here, an embrace there. Some glorious neck-nuzzling time during couch-play. And tickle-fights - which he won, owing to his tail.

  Not that she didn’t get 'revenge’, of course. Kitty discovered several sensitive spots on him and used them to her advantage. The two and fro would have them tumbling about until, laughing until they were sore, they’d collapse into a long, luxurious hug wherever they wound up. It was marvellous.

  Kurt suspected he was glowing, too.

  Love did that to people.

  For the moment, he was quite happy to bask in that glow. It felt warm, inside and out, just to be with her. She felt safe; as if the world's nastiness couldn’t possibly touch them when they were together. He'd purr in pure delight when she held him and nuzzled him back.

  Hess could go hang. *This* was love.

*

  Bluebelle had to smile. It was an okay smile that didn’t show any teeth, so she didn’t think she had to hide it. At least, not yet. Daddy was playing cuddle-games with Kitty again.

  She didn’t know why, but it made her feel warm inside to see them doing so. She liked that warm feeling. It was almost like the warmth she got when Daddy hugged her.

  Mr Peeper was playing chase-tail with her again, and Bluebelle kind of let him, keeping her tail’s movements erratic enough to keep the chicken interested, whilst also ensuring that he wouldn’t actually *catch* her tail and start trying to 'kill’ it.

  That sort of hurt.

  Someone was laughing, the sort of laugh that was trying not to laugh at something that was inherently funny. Bluebelle turned to see Jamie chuckling at her, and laughed herself. She only hid her mouth with one hand out of force of habit.

  “Uh, the others are kinda playing Calvinball outside,” said Jamie. "Wanna be on my team?“

  Jamie also made her feel warm inside. It made her blush and giggle a lot, and want to hide, but at the same time spend more time with him. They didn’t actually touch, not yet; but Bluebelle could see sometime in the distant future where they might hold hands or something.

  ”'Kay,“ she said, and crept out of the room.

  Mr Peeper followed her for a few steps, and then realised that she wasn’t Daddy. He went back to where Daddy was playing with Kitty with a loud barrage of nervous peeping.

  Then he decided to catch Daddy’s tail.

  "Hey! That’s not an appetiser!”

  Kitty giggled.

  Bluebelle caught up with Jamie. There was a glorious afternoon of Calvinball ahead.

*

  Lance snapped awake. He’d actually slept. Without dreams. Without Hess in his head. It felt marvellous. He felt completely refreshed, like he could take on the world.

  But he still had a crime to confess.

  According to the self-righteous X-geeks, anyway. They didn’t know as much as they pretended to know. And he was sure that now that he was avoiding the news, he wouldn’t have anything to fill his dreams with that bitch and her nightmare games.

  Everything was back to normal. He didn’t need the X-geeks or anything. He’d had a break, and he was back to normal. Everything was fine.

  He striaghtened up his clothes and let himself out of the mansion's hospital wing. With luck, he could get out of there without anyone noticing, or getting in his face.

  He dodged out of the way of a couple of kids. One was the Squirt-a-thon, Jamie, and the one with the tail and a complete lack of taste in clothing had to be Bluebelle. The screaming wonder.

  Unfortunately, he chose to dodge into the common room, where Kitty and the freakshow were playing cuddle-games. When his stupid chicken wasn't attacking his tail.

  He laughed at the wrong moment and earned a glare from the freakshow, and the Spanish Inquisition from Kitty.

  He barely heard the billion questions she came out with, staring instead at her body.

  She’d grown up - and out.

  “Whoah,” he said. “Kitty - you look –” he fumbled for the right word. "*Fantastic*.“

  It used to be that a compliment like that would have her in his arms in seconds. Not now. She clung to the furball and grinned like a cheshire cat. "You think so?”

  “Hell yeah! Are you on a new diet? What’s this one called?”

  “Like, a *healthy* diet,” said Kitty. “Turns out all that like, dieting junk was like, *totally* detrimental. There’s this like, entire book on it.”

  Books. Lance snorted. Like they could save lives. “You really *are* becoming a member of the geek squad, aren’t you?” he said. “You used to be cool.”

  Kitty glared at him. “*You* used to be nice. So what?”

  “Katzchen,” said the fuzzball. “Leave it alone.”

  “But - you *know* what he did to us. He should like, pay!”

  “Ja, but he also let me find my daughter. And rescue my son.”

  Lance boggled. “You have *two* kids?” he screamed. “*Crap*! Where the hell’s the other one?”

  “He died.”

  Lance swore. “Forget it. Forget it. I am *out* of here. Big time. You guys can just – you guys can just be freaky together. I suddenly stopped caring. Later.” And with a final looser salute, he left. At speed.