Kurt can count on his fingers all of the people who have cared about him, and he can name all those who have not.
The Professor cared, as he did about all of the mutants under his watch, until he was gone, taken from the world in a split second. Storm cared, and still does, proven by the way she kissed him at their wedding, or the way she laughed against his mouth as he nuzzled his face in her neck. Logan cared-as much as Logan can care-and for that Kurt is grateful, relieved at having one friend in the world.
That headcount takes up all of his..three fingers, and the rest of the world is left in anonymous darkness, save for those few people who left a distinct impression upon him.
Like his mother, the woman who did not care about him at all, and his father, the one who he does not know and does not care to know. Or like all of the people in Germany, the memory of rocks being thrown at him and disgusted looks still fresh in his mind.
He thinks, too late, to include the woman that raised him on the list of caring people, and his sister-but-not, Amanda. It's been so long, though, since he has seen either of them that their faces blend together and blur in his memories, and he no longer holds the love he once felt so strongly for the pair.
That makes three people that cherish and need him, and billions that don't, and Kurt is perfectly fine with that. He's also perfectly fine with having to use his other hand when counting, having to add a fourth finger-or person-to the list.
"Well, hello there."
The baby blinks up at him with the most innocent eyes he has ever seen, and Kurt finds himself grinning from ear to ear, positively beaming down at this child who, in one glance, has taken his heart and kept it for her own. This girl, whose hair is as white and blinding as snow, and whose skin is as blue as his own, has Kurt under her spell, and he rocks her gently within his secure embrace, moving her back and forth in a rhythm that nearly puts her to sleep, her lazy yawn making his smile widen.
In her dark, chestnut eyes, he sees the innocence of God, and all the wonder and kindness of the world, and the low murmurs of her mother in the next room put his heart at ease as he stares, mesmerized, at their daughter as her tiny tail reaches up to curl around one of his large fingers, and it takes hold and stays there.
Kurt watches as her indigo eyelids fall shut, her tiny face going slack with sleep as he tightens the pink blanket around her small body.
Yes, Kurt is perfectly content with adding a fourth person to the list, and he doesn't mind having to count with both of his hands, either.
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