Hey everyone! We'll
here's the sequel to Fuzzy Feelings. I
guess you could read it w/out having read the first, it's angsty, but you might
understand Kurt's emotional state better if you read the other fic first. Its not a bad fic, at least or so I'm told…which
brings me to a small request about Fuzzy Feelings…I'm soooooo close to 100
reviews, that it is mindnumbing, but I'm not quite there yet, 98, (actually 97
because I reviewed once) and it would mean sooooo much if anyone who could,
could review it. I just have a huge
desire to get 100 reviews…anyway, I hope you like this fic…as with all my
stories, comments and criticism are both wanted and welcome. Now on with the fic…
Disclaimer…I own NOTHING…Happy now? LoL
Pain…it can be described in many ways, each person with his
own definition, based on personal experience.
In general, be it physical or emotional, pain is a parasite, feeding off
one's body and soul. It wears you down,
pushes you to, or in some cases over, your breaking point. It spares nothing, caring not who or what
they are or what they've done. It
destroys…and it was what engulfed Kurt Wagner.
Kurt was sitting on his bed, thinking. He now spent the majority of his time
thinking. His once bright, mischievous
eyes had been replaced by those, which showed only his pain.
It had been a week since he had regained consciousness…a
week that was scarred by thoughts of insecurity and isolation. The only real contact he had had with anyone
was his encounter with Kitty. Her
admittance had, for a moment, lit a fire of hope in Kurt, that Mystique…that
he…was wrong in believing that no one truly cared for the elf. Unfortunately, his own brooding, over the
past few days, had quickly extinguished that hope. There were voices in his head that he just could not shut
off. The more he tried, the louder they
became. They whispered that he didn't
matter, that nobody cared. Why should
they? Had he even looked in the
mirror recently? The hologram was just
that, a hologram. How could he think
that just because he appeared a normal boy that he was to be loved as a normal
boy should?
His physical wounds were healing quickly, but the emotional
were far more deep than any of the abrasions he had received in battle. He was still on the antibiotics for
pneumonia, though his strength was returning and he was to start school again
in three days, the next Monday. He
spent his time wandering the halls, looking pensively into space. The others had noticed his strange
behavior. At first, it was dismissed as
post-traumatic-stress syndrome and Kurt was counseled by the Professor, but now
it was believed that it was more than just the battle that had wounded
Kurt.
Ororo and Professor Xavier were walking, and rolling, the
hall leading passed Kurt's chambers.
Both slowed their movements, listening for any sign of the boy both knew
to be inside. None was to be heard.
Ororo sighed, "Charles, is there anything we can do for the
child?" still staring worriedly at the closed door.
The Professor heavily shook his head negatively. "His pain is not one that will go away
easily by drugging him. It would do him
no good to give him drugs that will only mask something that he needs to face."
"But, do we know what that something is?" Ororo questioned, turning her face towards
her companion, but her mind still on the boy locked in his room.
"No, unfortunately we do not." He sighed, "I do not think
that he will willingly allow me to probe his mind and it might damage him even
more if I were to do it without his consent.
If only we knew what Mystique said to him!" Charles slammed his fist down on the armrest of his wheelchair
and then sighed in frustration.
"Perhaps we should pay her a visit?" Ororo suggested, looking keenly at the
Professor.
Kurt now paced. His
internal conflict was a source of unending turmoil and he had to do something
in an attempt to draw his thoughts from what he believed to be his
inadequacies. He stopped when a glint
of light, reflecting off his mirror, caught his eye. He walked slowly towards it, gazing at his own reflection. He stopped in front of the dresser to which
the mirror was attached. Slowly, he
lifted his three-fingered hand and hesitantly touched his mirror image. It was cold. Grimacing, he clenched the hand into a fist, glaring with hatred
at himself. He ported over to his
bedside table, on which an empty glass stood.
He quickly snatched the glass from its place and heaved it into the
mirror. Both shattered upon
impact. Glass shards scattered
everywhere. Kurt simply stood where he
was, staring at the broken glass, some of which was now reflection the contents
of the room. His gaze locked upon those
bearing his image.
~Hey, whattya guys think?
Please R/R I luv to read them! I'll
try and get the next chapter out pretty quickly, but finals are next week, so I
can't promise anything…though I REALLY want to promise =) Again, please review, I need to know the
public's opinion! =)
~Megan
