The thud from the bathroom didn't bode well.
"Kurt?" Kitty Pryde looked up from her fixed stare at the cup before her. The sound didn't repeat itself so Kitty returned to her exercise with a slight shrug, focusing all her will on the dinged metal cup. Her tongue poking between her teeth in an unconscious expression of concentration, Kitty tried to pick it up. Though they wavered in and out of solidity, her fingers closed around the handle of the cup and gently lifted it into the air.
"I did it!" She crowed aloud to no one.
A crash that sounded like it shattered all the safety glass in the shower made Kitty lose her concentration, dropping her cup through her fingers to the floor with a tinny crack.
"Kurt!" Kitty forgot the cup, rushing to the bathroom door. She was slowed down by her inability to touch the floor with her feet. She had never realized how much she missed traction until it was gone. She stopped short of phasing right through the door and solidified her hand enough to knock. No answer. She knocked louder and called his name again to be greeted by silence. Bracing herself for what she may see, Kitty poked her head straight through the center of the door.
The small room was steamy, the hot water thundering from the shower misted the mirror and sweat down the slick white walls and the unbroken shower door. Kitty squinted through the mist, scanning the floor anyway, and the ceiling, just in case. Seeing nothing, she called Kurt's name again, more softly this time. Phasing into the room, she airwalked to the shower.
She tapped on the glass with one solid finger, leaving small oval prints on the steamy glass. Water droplets ran down from them like tears. "Kurt, are you okay?" After a split second with no answer she popped her head through the glass, fighting panic.
Hot water streamed down through her head and struck the limp figure of her teammate on the shower floor. Kitty gasped, leaning down to check his pulse. His face was turned away from her, hair slicked back by the power of the water. Her fingers passed though the small spot where his neck met his jaw twice. Shaking with fear and rage at herself, she focused all her strength into the fingers poised an inch over Kurt's neck. With a muttered prayer to a God she was no longer sure existed, she made contact with his skin. She sighed with relief, leaving her fingers on his artery to feel the reassuringly steady beat of his pulse.
"He just fainted," she told herself, closing her eyes. "He'll be okay. We'll be okay."
Opening them again, she looked to the shower controls. He had gone down with a fight, taking the knob off with him. She couldn't turn the water off. It figures, she thought. He's gonna drown himself in here.
He's been passing out so much since he woke up. I wonder when he'll be better? Heck, when will I be better? When will everything be better? "Never," she snorted.
I have to go get Moira, was her immediate thought, which she shoved to the back of her mind.
"No, dammit! We're X-Men, the only X-Men now, and we take care of our own!" Kitty nodded her head once and pulled back though the glass. Forcing herself to stay solid, she slid the door open and stepped into the shower, placing her feet with care among his tangled legs and tail.
She just stood there for a moment, studying him, while the water and dampness soaked her clothes and pasted her hair to her skull. He wasn't that much taller than her, surely she could pick him up enough to get him out of the shower.
She frowned at the ribs and hipbone that poked up at her. He was never a hugely muscled man like Piotr or Scott, but she had never seen him look this scrawny before. They had both lost muscle and much more. Thinking of her own too-loose jeans, she was reminded somewhat of Holocaust survivors when she looked in the mirror and at Kurt. They were both shell-shocked war survivors and casualties. The walking wounded, as opposed the X-Men, who were just dead.
But who is worse off? an insidious voice in the back of her mind asked.
Blinking back tears at the unwelcome and unkind thought, she concentrated on picking him up enough to maneuver him over the small rim of the shower.
He was heavier than he looked. Kitty pulled him upright by the arms, wincing at the way his head snapped back. Sliding behind him, she hefted him out and onto the floor with a grunt.
"Well, that wasn't so bad," she gasped. Sweat and water mingled and ran into her eyes. "I can get him to his bed. I can. I will. I must."
She had managed to heave him upright enough to pull him onto her back, gripping his arms above the wrists. His wet furry skin was slick and she almost dropped him. She lost control of her phasing power for just a second from panic. Ready to cry, she caught him just before he went down. She crouched there for a moment, panting. Listening to Peter's voice in her mind, she straightened her legs, lifting the weight just the way he had taught her.
This isn't so bad, she lied again to herself, her breath puffing through her teeth. Inch by inch she turned and half-drug Kurt and herself toward the door. It beckoned to her. The fresh air out in the lab waited to fill her lungs.
She was close when she felt a muscle twitch in Kurt's arm where she gripped it. "Kurt?" she questioned hopefully. The rest of the trip would be much easier if he was even semi-conscious. At the sound of Kitty's voice his arm jerked. Kitty felt him jump as he came awake all at once with a cry. His sudden movement made Kitty lose concentration, and she yelled herself as she felt her feet slipping on the wet floor.
They went down with a thunderous crash, Kurt's weight flattening her. But, wonder of wonders, she stayed solid. Kurt groaned what may have been a curse.
"What in the blue bloody hell?!"
Kitty twisted up to peer into Moira's furious face. "He passed out again and I was just getting him out of here. I slipped, sorry." The last word dripped sarcasm.
Kurt looked up at Moira and down at Kitty, his expression muddled. Moira held out her hand to him. He grasped it and allowed the Scots doctor to pull him to his feet. He wavered there for a second, Moira ready to catch him if he looked on the verge of toppling.
Kitty stared at the floor until Moira escorted Kurt to his bed in the lab. When she rose, shame and anger colored her cheeks. Once Moira was satisfied that Kurt was fine - and he waved her ministrations away - she rounded on Kitty.
"Och, girl! What be wrong with you! Why dinnae you call me!?" she was livid; fear and anger making her voice rise. "He's too big for you to be cartin' around. You could'ave hurt yourself and him!"
"I had to help him! He and I are all that's left! What was I supposed to do! We're X-Men!" Kitty's voice rose too, strident in her frustration.
"Ooh...'we're X-Men' ... a couple of verra sick, stupid mutants is what you are, Miss Kitty!" Moira's voice dropped, fear winning out over anger. "Don't make me bury any more of ye."
Kitty was silent, turning away from Moira to look at Kurt. He sat up, pulling the bedsheet around his waist. He was a drowned rat, but there was nothing muddled about his gold eyes now. He looked at her with concern.
"Thank you, Kaetzchen," he shot a glance at Moira. His voice sounded strained. "Moira is just worried about you."
Kitty stared at them both for a moment, defiance in her posture, her eyes flicking from one to the other. "But..." Kitty trailed off, defeated. Sinking through the floor, she disappeared from sight. Kurt and Moira could hear her strangled sob before she phased.
"You were a little rough on her, Moira," Kurt's brow furrowed and he ran a hand through his dripping hair. "She was just doing as the professor taught us."
"Och. Like you've got room to talk, Kurt! You've only been awake for three days, after months in that bed, and you try to push yourself to exhaustion every day." She shook her head in disgust. "You X-people make horrid patients. Why are ye so stubborn?!"
Kurt shrugged, shedding water droplets onto the floor. "There's not much else left for us to be."
Moira sighed. "I know, Kurt, I know. Let's get you cleaned up."
>*<
Kitty pointedly avoided both Kurt and Moira for the remainder of the week. She ate early, late or not at all and faded into the wall whenever one of them appeared.
Moira soon deemed Kurt fit enough to move into a room and did so quickly, saying plenty of the remaining Morlocks could use the space in the medlab. Though his room was right next to Kitty's, Kurt never heard a peep from her. She wandered the halls late at night, drifting through the air like the living ghost she was. It worried Kurt to no end, but Moira seemed nonplussed.
"Gi' her time, Kurt. She's grieving in her own way," she had said.
Kurt didn't think so.
Moira, you're wrong this time, he thought, staring out his bedroom window to the cliffs that cut the land from the sea. Kitty was out there, somewhere, walking the edge. She was only trying to be useful, and we both pushed her away. Stupid, stupid. Both of us fools.
>*<
Kitty stood on the windswept cliff, the cold North Sea gales whistling through her insubstantial form. She solidified enough to savor the biting chill of the winds, the numbness in her cheeks and nose reminding her she was alive.
She looked down at the sea, watching the waves break against the rocks. The power and beauty of the surf reminded her too much of Storm. She could almost see the windrider skimming the whitecaps and calling the elements to do her bidding.
Their last meeting had not been completely pleasant. Kitty had been upset, offended that she was being sent away from the X-Men. Even though it was just for her recovery, Kitty had felt betrayed. Was she not good enough to stay with her family?

"Kitten, it's just for a while," Ororo had said, her face pained by Kitty's tears. Her eyes had dropped to Kurt, lying still in the mansion's medlab bed. "We will be away for a while, and Moira can take better care of you all."
"I'm better now, I can go with you."
"No. Even if you are fine, which you are not, you are needed to look after the Morlocks. You can keep Peter company and Kurt needs you both." She picked up his limp hand, forming the long blue fingers to her own.
"Why do you talk to him? He can't hear you." Kitty watched Ororo's elegant fingers check the beeping monitors that were the only indication Kurt still lived.
"Oh, but he can, kitten," she smiled at Kitty, her cat-like blue eyes bright with tears. "This may sound an unkind comparison, but just as I know my plants hear me on some level, I know he hears too. He needs to know we care about him and want him back. Promise me you'll talk to him Kitty. Visit him."
Kitty had simply pursed her lips. Though she had gotten over her fear of Kurt, he had still annoyed her sometimes with his jokes and excessive exuberance.
Ororo had sighed. "Kitty, we're all X-Men. We take care of each other, always. I send you away because I love you. Now you must show that love to Peter and Kurt by taking care of them. Will you do that for me?"
Kitty had obliged, allowing Ororo to hug her. She had still been angry and was loathe to return the older woman's affection.

"What I wouldn't give to do that over." Bitterness colored her muttered words.
Raising her arms, she addressed the skies. "I tried to take care of Peter, and he's dead." Her voice wavered and she blinked back tears. "And Kurt doesn't want my help. I failed, 'Ro."
"No, Kaetzchan, you didn't," Kurt's quiet voice said behind her.
Kitty whirled, her arms dropping to her sides, she stared at him in surprise and anger at his instrusion.
He walked like an old man, but he was steadier than a few days ago. He was dressed in warm flannel, in stark contrast to Kitty's t-shirt and jeans, and carried a jacket that she recognized as her own. She turned away from him, lifting her face to the wind as another memory consumed her.
Logan's mocking eyes rounded in surprise. "Watch out! It's the tiny teen terror!" he had said as soon as she walked into the wrecked Danger Room.
When she had just been with the X-Men for a short time, she had been the only one home when a demon attacked the mansion on Christmas Eve. She had defeated the demon, more by luck than skill, but trashed large chunks of the mansion in the process. She had felt guilty and had fixed snacks for the X-Men who were cleaning up her mess in the following weeks.
The moment she had appeared, Logan, in his rough way, had teased her about the mess. Kurt had been quick to join in, with Peter jumping to her defence. The spat between the men and the ribbing had been too much for her and she had fled.
"Next time I'll just let it kill me," she had cried before phasing through the wall.
Kurt, ever the collective conscience of the X-Men, had tried to make amends with her. He had teleported to her with kind words of apology and her jacket.
She had rejected his care then. Now she took the jacket with a sob, pulling him to her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, crying silently into his heavy shirt.
"Why, Kurt? It's not fair!"
He stroked her hair comfortingly. "I know, Kitty. Ororo was right, you know, we X-Men do take care of our own. I'm sorry Moira snapped at you. And ... I could have been more understanding just then too. I appreciate your care. Thank you."
She sniffed, pulling back enough to look into his eyes. "You're welcome, fuzzy elf," she hugged him tightly. "I'm so happy you're back. I missed you." She realized, to her amazement, she meant it.
They held on a moment longer before turning to watch the waves in silence.
"What are we going to do, Kurt?"
"I don't know. Take care of the remaining Morlocks ... help Moira with the lab ... heal, survive." He shrugged. "Whatever we do, we'll do it together. Right?"
Kitty looked at him, smiling for the first time in days. "Right, together."

The original can be found at http://home.earthlink.net/~jnetterrb/together.html .