Very much NSFW fic concluding today [tomorrow is all the footnotes]:
Fracture Fifty-Five: Epilogue
It had been quite a year. A memorable year, certainly. The Media continued to rake over the cold ashes of the Hess trial. Hess herself continued to fight for adequate legal representation for her re-trial, though there wasn’t a single lawyer anywhere who would touch her case with a pole of any length or variety.
Raven, unknown to a large proportion of the world, continued to drive her mad with visions of her numerous victims. By the time Germany extracted her from Raven’s clutches, Hess would be a gibbering wreck, incapable of doing any harm. Or even feeding herself.
Everyone needed a hobby.
Bluebelle’s education leaped forward, and her social life improved somewhat gradually under Jamie’s careful guidance. She still had a habitual flinch if anyone came at her from behind, and tended to be nervous around strangers. She still hid her smile, but that one hand was becoming increasingly negligent and lax.
She marked her birthday by spending time talking to her brother's grave, giving him news as she’d seen her father do. She didn’t pray for Hess. She’d tried, but found that she couldn’t come up with the right words.
Kurt celebrated his birthday as he’d always done before - praying for his genetic mother and father at the local Catholic church. It felt strange for him to have it finally narrowed down to one day, instead of the week he’d usually spent, praying and wondering, his whole life.
His A-day celebrations were somewhat curtailed in the wake of the anniversary of the New York disaster. They did try, though, to celebrate life and liberty. It worked, but only to a degree. Some things simply changed the world too much.
But now, it was a very special day. One that just about everyone had been anticipating. October Twelfth. Bluebelle’s Liberty day.
Preparations were intricate and bizarre. Logan had made a Hess dartboard for one of the games. Ororo made several cakes. The tables practically creaked with the burden of various treats.
Bluebelle had spent ages on the invitations, selecting friends and family to invite, but was still unable to keep it down to twenty guests.
Kurt winced and blocked his ears, a long-suffering wince etched onto his holographic face. He stood in the middle of pure bedlam. Fifty small girls, all roughly Bluebelle’s age, were apparently working out how loud a crowd could get - the hard way.
They were playing, as near as he could work out, a variant of tag that had also involved blowing up every single balloon they could lay their hands on. Having filled the room, they swam around in it, squealing at the top of their lungs, and batting balloons everywhere.
Jamie could barely be seen, hunkering for cover under a coffee table. His fingers were firmly in his ears and he, too, wore the same expression as Kurt.
And not *one* kid in the entire room had even had anything red to eat or drink, yet.
Bluebelle was in the thick of it, squealing and laughing with all the rest, bounding through balloons and catching her comrades for mutual shrieks and giggles. Her outfit, a somewhat formal dress, also included long gloves, so no outsiders would feel her fur.
“Look out, look out… Like, big person coming through. Nobody get stood on. Look out…”
Kurt turned to face his best-beloved, and couldn’t help smiling. Katzchen. Sweet, adorable Katzchen. She’d not only filled out, but grown a few inches taller than he in the past year. He didn’t mind a jot.
Kitty, though, was sensitive to the height difference, and started wearing her hair down, so her ponytail wouldn’t tower over him. She still had a lot to learn about judging people. That was part of growing up. Yet she was still the same brave and valiant girl who’d walked into a strange house as if she’d owned it, and hollered, “Here I am!” to the world at large.
Kurt, hiding behind a potted aspidestra, had fallen in love with her at that moment. As a result, he spent too long in one place, got discovered, and then screamed at in short order.
Oh, the incredibly stupid things he’d done to try and get her used to him, those first few weeks. He smiled at the memory as much as he smiled at Kitty. Her inner strength kept drawing him to her, and it would continue to do so. Always.
Kitty approached him with that same wistful-lustful smile, and caught him up in a hug, and gave him a kiss that bordered on breaking the PG rule that every interested party seemed to be enforcing, these days. And there were a lot of interested parties.
“*God*, I wish we were like, eighteen already,” Kitty gasped. “I like, spend every night thinking about what I’m missing out on.”
Kurt purred softly into her ear, kissing her earlobe and sniffing deeply at her neck. “It’s more than just sex, geliebt,” he murmured. "It’s about being *with* each other.“
"Mmmmm,” Kitty murmured. She gave him a more chaste kiss. “And that's the *only* thing that like, stops me going *nuts*.”
“Me too,” he sighed.
“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, *Daddeeeeee*…" Bluebelle yanked at his overshirt. "It’s your turn to throw the *darts*.”
“Ach… Parential duties call, liebe.”
“Go get ‘em, Fuzzy.”
Kurt let himself be dragged up to the Hess dartboard by his eager daughter, laughing all the way. He made a show of juggling the darts until childish protests once again threatened to harm his hearing. "Now,“ he wondered aloud. "Where shall I hit her, eh?”
“Pierce her ears, Daddy!”
“Vicious little girl,” he chided. “Are you sure you’re mine?”
Bluebelle laughed. “And poke her in the nose,” she added.
“All right,” Kurt announced. Two ears and a nose. I think I can do that. But I was never taught to throw these things, ja? I might pop a balloon. Or stick some little girl’s hair to the wall.“ He smiled as the kids cleared the danger zone out. "These things happen when you’re only taught to throw knives in a circus.”
At last, it looked safe enough, and he aimed the first dart, sighting along it as if it were a throwing blade.
The kids laughed.
“Hop-*LA*!” Kurt threw the first dart. It landed exactly in Hess' earlobe.
The crowd went wild.
He repeated the trick for the ear on the other side. Again, the missile hit home. Kurt bowed, flourishing the last dart as if he held a flower. The third and last time he took aim, half the kids in the room made drum-roll noises. Of course, he played it up, making them giggle every time he made to throw, then sighted along the dart again.
At last, he threw, and the resultant cheering broke the pain barrier as balloons flew *everywhere* and bedlam once again erupted amongst the girls.
Kurt took his chance to sneak out of the room and listen to his ears sizzle in the relative silence outside. Kitty joined him in a few minutes, finger busily working in one ear.
“Like, can they *possibly* get any louder? It’s like a weapon in there…” She scrubbed in her other ear. “Any more and I think I'll like, go *deaf*.”
“Sure you want children?” he smiled. “They’ll be just as loud…”
Kitty smiled and hugged up against him. “If they’re yours, sure. I'll even like, put up with them like, crawling on the ceiling.”
Kurt chuckled. It was pleasing to daydream like this. Their whole lives stretched before them on a blanket of possibilities. He was an optimistic Elf, true, but he knew life wasn’t made of dreams.
He held his best-beloved close, knowing that, in a few short years, they may grow apart. Yet he’d be forever drawn to her. An eager moth to her flame.
“Don’t you *dare* get depressed on me, Fuzzy,” Kitty chided, tickling his 'magic spot’ as they both named it - the little patch of hypersensitive flesh just at the start of his tail. “It’s Liberty Day. You should only think positive.”
“Is that a new rule, geliebt?”
“It’s *my* rule.”
“Ah,” he nodded sagely. “Then I have no other choice but to obey.” He smiled. “How about a nice little palace facing the bay? That way, our fifteen children will have plenty of room to run around in.”
“*Fifteen*?” yawped Kitty.
“But of course,” Kurt purred. “I’m planning to slip fertility drugs into your tea.”
Kitty laughed and tickled him into submission. Life was good.
Charles Xavier found the couple in a tickle-war, tangling in each other’s limbs as they romped about on his lawn. He cleared his throat and got an instant, “We weren’t doing anything naughty!” from the both of them.
Poor children. So afraid that they’d be separated. Charles remembered vaguely encountering such love before. “I know,” he said. “You can relax, both of you. You’ve been very responsible about your relationship, this past year.” He took a deep breath. “Which is why I felt it necessary to present you with an appropriate reward on your anniversary.” He held out a hotel key for them. “You do realise that I'm trusting you to be equally as responsible, this time.”
Kurt took the key. “But–” Their minds were a whirl of potential pitfalls.
“Everything’s going to be taken care of. Enjoy yourselves.”
“*Jawohl*, Herr Professor!”
Charles watched them go, hand in hand, heading towards Kurt’s car. Ah, young love. They really *were* responsible, facing reality and calamity with equal fortitude, whispering their little pledge to each other in moments alone.
“For now, forever.”
It meant a lot to them. Knowing that time might change them, yet not wanting to contemplate a life where they were apart. Charles turned his chair about and headed back to the party.
He had more than a sneaking suspicion that Kitty and Kurt would continue their relationship for at least a while.
Logan appeared out of nowhere to ask, “Sure that’s wise, Chuck? Lettin’ 'em know they can break the rules like that?”
“In this case, they’ve been rather mindful of the rules. Almost painfully so. They deserve a little time together. Just each other and the stars.”
From now, until forever.