Title: Counting Down
Rating: PG-13 for some slight swear words
Disclaimer: The usual, the characters belong to the WB, Marvel comics etc. I'm merely dabbling with them :)
Summary: AU/C. Various member's POV over the death of Kitty. This one's told from Kurt's POV.
Notes: Since it's all Kurt's thoughts i haven't wrote them with a German accent. One because it's way too complicated unless he's actually speaking. And two because knowing me i'd end up mucking it up.
Feedback: Is always appreciated. This is my first fic so constructive criticism is welcomed.
I hate coming here. Before the accident i'd never set foot in a hospital, what with looking the way i usually do. However now i know this particular hospital like the back of my normally blue furred hand. Ask me where any room is and i'll be able to tell you in seconds. Sadly, that's how much time i've ended up spending here.
16 weeks, 12 hours, 6 minutes and 26 seconds
Of course the part of the hospital i know best is Block 18. The "Terminally Neurologically Damaged" block as the pessimistic, diploma owning, stuck-up bastards known as doctors like to call it. To those of us of the visiting kind it's simply called "The Block Of No Hope" because after a few weeks that's exactly what we have. No hope left.
16 weeks, 12 hours, 15 minutes and 13 seconds
My hand closes on the doorhandle of Room 314, opening it i chuckle slightly at the familar setting. The white coloured walls, linoleum covered floor and the ever present beeping of the machine keeping her physically alive. Even with the almost daily change of colourful flowers the place manages to keep up it's bland, haunting look. No wonder she's still asleep, no one in their right mind would want to wake-up to this decor. I can remember Evan telling me, Kitty and Rogue, during an ER marathon that hospitals are so white because it's easier for the staff to whitewash the blood stains away. Personally i think it's a sign that they've already given-up hope on their patients. The way they see it the patients are never going to stay here long so what's the point in wasting money in decorating the place. Like i said, bastards the lot of them.
16 weeks, 12 hours, 30 minutes and 22 seconds
I've come to realise that holding her cold, pale, lifeless hand is like clinging to a fraying rope. Sooner or later the inevitable will happen, it'll snap and you'll fall. Doesn't stop you clutching it though. Looking up at her un-naturally pale face is like looking at a ghost. We used to tease her by calling her a ghost what with her walking through walls but now she really is one. A shadow of her former self. I'd do anything to bring her back, to have her smile brightly at me. Eyes twinkling merrily as she moans about my "bamfing" or that i've raided the fridge again and ate her pre-prepared lunch. I'd do anything just to have her squeeze my hand back. To here her whisper my name, some small reaction that let's me know she's still in there. That she's still our Kitty. But i know now that enough is enough.
"16 weeks, 12 hours, 43 minutes and 16 seconds", I whisper to her, "That's how long i waited for you Kätzchen"
Leaning forward i place a soft, chaste kiss on her unreacting lips before turning and walking into the hall. A small nod from me let's the doctor know i'm ready. So we all file back into Coma Room 314 that's home to the practically lifeless body of Kitty Pryde, every single one of us. Scott, Jean, Rogue, Evan, Ororo, Logan and the Professer. All of us watching silently -hardly daring to breathe- as Dr.Anderson, that told me yesterday it was over, walks slowly to the beeping machine. A small click and the beeping stops abruptly. That's it. Game, set and match as Evan would say.
The silence is shattered suddenly by a loud sob from Jean as she turns and buries her face in Scott's chest. That's all it takes to get the rest of them going, classic chain reaction.
And through my tears i look skywards up at the white-washed ceiling that seems to cruelly imitate the white clouds of heaven and whisper softly, "One minute and 23 seconds"
And so the counting begins all over again.
Rating: PG-13 for some slight swear words
Disclaimer: The usual, the characters belong to the WB, Marvel comics etc. I'm merely dabbling with them :)
Summary: AU/C. Various member's POV over the death of Kitty. This one's told from Kurt's POV.
Notes: Since it's all Kurt's thoughts i haven't wrote them with a German accent. One because it's way too complicated unless he's actually speaking. And two because knowing me i'd end up mucking it up.
Feedback: Is always appreciated. This is my first fic so constructive criticism is welcomed.
I hate coming here. Before the accident i'd never set foot in a hospital, what with looking the way i usually do. However now i know this particular hospital like the back of my normally blue furred hand. Ask me where any room is and i'll be able to tell you in seconds. Sadly, that's how much time i've ended up spending here.
16 weeks, 12 hours, 6 minutes and 26 seconds
Of course the part of the hospital i know best is Block 18. The "Terminally Neurologically Damaged" block as the pessimistic, diploma owning, stuck-up bastards known as doctors like to call it. To those of us of the visiting kind it's simply called "The Block Of No Hope" because after a few weeks that's exactly what we have. No hope left.
16 weeks, 12 hours, 15 minutes and 13 seconds
My hand closes on the doorhandle of Room 314, opening it i chuckle slightly at the familar setting. The white coloured walls, linoleum covered floor and the ever present beeping of the machine keeping her physically alive. Even with the almost daily change of colourful flowers the place manages to keep up it's bland, haunting look. No wonder she's still asleep, no one in their right mind would want to wake-up to this decor. I can remember Evan telling me, Kitty and Rogue, during an ER marathon that hospitals are so white because it's easier for the staff to whitewash the blood stains away. Personally i think it's a sign that they've already given-up hope on their patients. The way they see it the patients are never going to stay here long so what's the point in wasting money in decorating the place. Like i said, bastards the lot of them.
16 weeks, 12 hours, 30 minutes and 22 seconds
I've come to realise that holding her cold, pale, lifeless hand is like clinging to a fraying rope. Sooner or later the inevitable will happen, it'll snap and you'll fall. Doesn't stop you clutching it though. Looking up at her un-naturally pale face is like looking at a ghost. We used to tease her by calling her a ghost what with her walking through walls but now she really is one. A shadow of her former self. I'd do anything to bring her back, to have her smile brightly at me. Eyes twinkling merrily as she moans about my "bamfing" or that i've raided the fridge again and ate her pre-prepared lunch. I'd do anything just to have her squeeze my hand back. To here her whisper my name, some small reaction that let's me know she's still in there. That she's still our Kitty. But i know now that enough is enough.
"16 weeks, 12 hours, 43 minutes and 16 seconds", I whisper to her, "That's how long i waited for you Kätzchen"
Leaning forward i place a soft, chaste kiss on her unreacting lips before turning and walking into the hall. A small nod from me let's the doctor know i'm ready. So we all file back into Coma Room 314 that's home to the practically lifeless body of Kitty Pryde, every single one of us. Scott, Jean, Rogue, Evan, Ororo, Logan and the Professer. All of us watching silently -hardly daring to breathe- as Dr.Anderson, that told me yesterday it was over, walks slowly to the beeping machine. A small click and the beeping stops abruptly. That's it. Game, set and match as Evan would say.
The silence is shattered suddenly by a loud sob from Jean as she turns and buries her face in Scott's chest. That's all it takes to get the rest of them going, classic chain reaction.
And through my tears i look skywards up at the white-washed ceiling that seems to cruelly imitate the white clouds of heaven and whisper softly, "One minute and 23 seconds"
And so the counting begins all over again.
