Kurt watched the stranger that sat across from him carefully. He realized now that what he had done was stupid…that he could have been totally wrong about her. She could still freak out on him, especially if his inducer started being stupid. She could definitely be desperate.

But he was a man of honor and kept his word. She ordered a hamburger, fries, and a McFlurry. It wasn't much, for someone looking as starved as she. He hid his surprise and she hid any expression at all. They sat down in silence, save for the occasional crunchy fry.

And then it started. Kurt didn't know where it came from, he just started talking. Words spilled from inside him about everything, his life, his frustrations. Of course, everything was vague and he naturally changed all the facts and didn't mentioned any of it as mutant related, but still, here he was, pouring out his heart to a complete stranger.

"I mean, there's so much between all of them. So many complications. And I just…I feel left out. And when they try to include me, it isn't in anything…anything that really matters. How can you live with people for any real length of time and still manage to feel like a stranger? These people are my friends…but it's just…it's not…you know? I feel so frustrated. One of them constantly underestimates me, the other always makes fun and I can't tell if he respects me or…"

This went on for some time. It wasn't like Kurt but then he really hadn't been himself for the last couple of days. It was like drowning in a shadow, floundering towards the light and never quite feeling like you'll ever get there. The others had assumed he was depressed like anyone else, over the recent mutant activities and the government's proposed crackdowns…but he knew that wasn't it. What it was, he couldn't explain, but he was sure as hell trying now.

She didn't answer. He wasn't even sure she was hearing a word he said. Well, he kept talking anyway. Perhaps he would stumble upon something if he said it all out loud…

Fifteen minutes later, Kurt was not only depressed but thoroughly immersed in the world of self-pity. He forced himself to stop talking. The woman was done eating now and she seemed to be trying to decide what to do.

I was trying not to scream. The food was a good distraction, but not good enough. And he just wouldn't stop…

I was consumed by déjà vu. Once upon a time, I had had a friend. A best friend. And she had had clinical depression.

For three years, I had been her shoulder to cry on. I wasn't the type, far from it. I had survived—and so had she, she once told me—because I took a healthy dive into the world of psychology.

It's a fascinating subject, really. I don't pretend to be an expert—well, I do, but I'd deny it if asked—but if you know the basics, it's surprisingly easy to sound like you know what you're talking about and then just babble.

So: to say something or not to say something. That is the question.

Damn you, Hamlet.

I stopped eating. He stopped talking. He looked at me, I choked. Lovely.

He stood up.

"It sounds like you need a friend."

He gave me such an odd look that I just had to start laughing. I gestured and he sat back down. "A real friend," I elaborated.

"I have friends," he said slowly. I shook my head.

"From what I can tell, you have family, not friends. Family is funny like that. Blood has nothing to do with it. I define family as a bunch of people you are with because that's where life took you. You didn't pick them. You didn't slowly realize that they were people just like you, people you could really identify with or people you clicked with. You just kinda fell into them. You're with them, but they don't understand you."

I was on a roll now, and like Blue-Boy before me, I just kept going. It didn't matter if I made sense. Debates are fun—sometimes especially if you barely make sense. "See, everyone places family above friends. They think that by being family, you have something special, a bond, a loyalty. Well, maybe you do. Or maybe growing up with a certain group of people just does that, whether you were born with them or not. And sometimes it doesn't. Personally, I think friends are much more important than a family you don't identify with and it pisses me off that lovers eventually get married and are considered family. I mean, come on! They have to have been friends first, then lovers, or the marriage won't last. Even though through marriage, they are family.

"You're with these people because fate brought you there. But you haven't found your niche yet. You can be with them, they can be your family, but you need someone else too. You need a friend who completes you. Someone who may not understand but listens anyway. Someone who can tell when you need something. Not like this Kitty person. I mean even your choice of aliases says something about her. Kittens are only out for themselves. Cats are solitary creatures that want attention when they want it. Never when it suits someone else."

He was blushing. It was an interesting effect, making him almost purple. And the hologram thing blushed too. Very high-class technology.

I was smiling, happy with my analysis. This wasn't the first time I had thought about this, what with my irrational hatred of most of my family.

Family. Hm. Why was I so comfortable using that word all of the sudden? I frowned and he frowned and I shut up.

I opened my mouth to say something, but he caught my eyes and held them.

"Danke," he said softly. And then he smiled. The effect on my stomach was rather interesting. It leapt and flipped as if on a high-wire act, crashing with my voice box and rendering me almost speechless.

"N-n-no, t-thank you." I managed. "For t-the meal." And one kinky grin later, I was out the door.