Standard disclaimers apply.

~~--~~*~~--~~ Behind the Closed Door ~~--~~*~~--~~

The lightning was the first thing that woke him from the first deep sleep he could ever remember enjoying.  It flashed brightly, lighting up the room and casting shadows on the few possessions he owned strewn about the room.  The thunder came next, booming loudly in his chest.  He could hear his own heartbeat in his ears, mixed in with the sound of the oncoming storm.

He had never liked storms.

Reaching over to his nightstand, he grabbed his rosary, and pulled against his chest, murmuring a soft prayer as the raindrops began to fall, tapping lightly at his window.  Standing, he walked to the closet, reaching inside for a jacket to cover himself. 

By the time his hand had gasped the handle of the doorknob to his room, the storm had come on full force, thunder rattling his windows.  He shuddered and walked out into the hallway, looking left and right for anyone that might be up and about, perhaps frightened of the storm as well.

He knew that his fear of storms was quite irrational.  There was no reason to fear one of the earth's natural processes.  But still, there was that lingering fear of the wind and the lightning that he knew would have him shaking into his elder years.  It was something that could not be helped.

Feeling the need for a walk to help relieve his stress, he took a left, walking down the long corridor that housed the students and some of the staff as well. 

As he passed the doors, the names and the faces of the people that slept behind them flooded his brain for lack of anything better to think of.  He passed the older boys' dorm, hearing even through the storm some of the snoring coming through the heavy oak doors.  There were several doors that were bathrooms and hallways closets, and then the younger boys' dorms where the curious ones of the mansion lived.  The ones that always asked him to 'show us some tricks' when it was a nice day outside, and no one had anything better to do.

Walking on, he passed Scott and Jean's door, pausing momentarily to stare at the barrier and murmur a soft prayer of hope for Scott.  Even now, two years after Jean's death, he still felt the loss as if it were only yesterday.  Kurt could only ever offer condolences for the broken man.

The next door down was full of the older girls.  Rogue in particular, who he had nothing but brotherly affection for.  They often spent afternoons together talking or playing simple games that brought them both joy and release from the stress of the days.

Across the hall was Logan's room. 

There wasn't much he could say about Logan.  The man was a very private person.  Kurt respected that about him very much; especially with everything he did know about Logan already.  All of the tests and the memories that he carried. 

Knowing that he was reaching the end of the hall, he paused to turn around and return to his room, the storm not bothering him so much anymore.  But there was the quiet sound of someone in pain, coming from behind the last door in the hall. 

  Making his way slowly toward the sound, he paused right outside and listened, wondering in his forgetfulness, who was behind the door.  In the still, he could barely make out the sounds of a female voice.  It sounded like she was talking in her sleep, perhaps in another language.  But she sounded troubled.

The lightning flashed again outside, and he looked to the window at the very end of the hallway.  The rain was coming down even harder, and the wind was blowing more fiercely than he had seen in quite some time.

Knocking gently, he opened the door, poking his head through to make sure he wasn't interrupting anything in misinterpretation. 

Looking to the bed, he saw what to his eyes looked to be an angel.  One of the most beautiful people he had ever seen in his life.  Her hair was of the purest white, and it was splayed across her pillow, contrasted with the black of the material.  In the flashes of light her could see her face, caramel tinted and smooth, though her eyes were clenched tight and, her brow was furrowed in agony. 

Storm was battling a storm.

Not even realizing he had walked to the bed, he turned to see that the door was shut as well.  It was a trap, surely.  But he could not make himself back away.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed next to her, he reached out a hand and brushed some of the stray locks from her face, watching in pleasure as she seemed to visibly relax at the touch.  It was the first time in a long time that anyone had ever seemed glad that he had touched them.

Outside, the rain began to slack off, but Kurt didn't seem to notice the weather anymore.  He was too wrapped up in the beautiful woman to notice much of anything.

Except her eyes.  She had opened her eyes, and wasn't afraid to see him sitting next to her bedside.  This was another welcome surprise, even if he didn't show the emotion externally.

"You were having a bad dream," he said gently.  "I heard you from out in the hallway."

"I was dreaming of Jean," she said, the sadness apparent in her eyes.

"We all miss her."

"Sometimes I miss her too much."

Kurt could her the emotion welling up in Storm's voice and see the tears glisten in her eyes.  It was very obvious to anyone that she was a very sad, lonely person, especially without her best friend. 

"Things will turn out all right in the end," he explained.  "God has a way with everything."

"I feel so lost sometimes.  So alone."

"You are not alone, mein sturm.  I am here for you."

Storm reached up and touched a hand to his cheek, tracing the faint outlines of sin on his face.  She looked to his eyes, glinting yellow in the dark.  There was so much sincerity in them.  They were so beautifully mesmerizing.

"It is raining," she said, looking toward the window.  "I didn't realize it."

"It is much quieter than it was before," he said, following her gaze to the window.

"It always rains when I think of Jean."

"Maybe it is your way of dealing with the grief."

Storm smiled kindly and reached for his hand, holding onto it as an anchor to keep herself steady.  She had badly needed someone to be at her side these past years.  Loneliness was something that she didn't think she could deal with any longer.  The grief was beginning to overpower her, even now.

"I can't do this anymore," she sobbed.  "I can't keep telling myself that everything will be all right."

"But it will be, you will see."

"How can you promise me such things?"

Kurt scooted closer to her, drawing her into his arms and against his chest.  It seemed to him that she needed to be held.  She needed that stronghold, and he was more than willing to give it to her. 

"How can I deny them to you?"

Storm was silent after this, content to be held in someone's arms, to hold the pain of her grief at bay, even if she knew that she couldn't hold it off forever.

"We are both so lonely," he said into her hair, planting a kiss there.

"Maybe it's part of who we are," she offered.

"Do you really think this?" he asked, pulling her back to look into his eyes.  "Do you really want to believe that?"

She thought for a minute.

"No."

The corner's of Kurt's mouth turned up in a bit of a smile.  He leaned down, his lips an inch away from hers.  He could feel the heat coming from her skin, almost feel her lips against his; it had been so long…

"Neither do I."

Storm leaned up further, breaking the gap between them, pressing her lips against his hungrily, trying her best to make up for all of those years of absent companionship.  And she could feel that not only did she need it, but he needed it too.  They were the missing pieces of each other's puzzle.  Right and wrong.  Black and white.  And it felt so good.

Kurt could barely register the feel of her arms around his neck, holding them together as if it was a sin to let go.  And for him it was.  He could never let her go.  Not if he knew that the rest of his time would be spent mourning for the absence of her touch.  He would rather spend an eternity in hell than be kept from this.

"Things will be different in the morning," she said, kissing his cheek and running her hands through his hair.

"Yes, they will."

Together they were content to listen to the sound of each other's breathing mixed with the light patter of rain against the window.  Kurt felt Storm pulling on his robe, pushing it off of his shoulders to hang on the chair next to the bed.  It looked as though he'd be staying.

"We cannot…"

"I know, that's not what I mean," she said, moving over to let him lay beside her.  "I need you tonight.  Stay with me, here."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Promise?"

"Always."

~~--~~*~~--~~

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