A/N: Sorry this was so late, but I was at a family reunion…with no internet. The horror.
Disclaimer:
"See not evil, hear no evil, speak no evil…"
"…so what the hell am I supposed to do for fun?!"
Logan watched the girl-he couldn't think of this broken creature as Leslie-shift closer to Kurt, rubbing her cheek against him. The resemblance to a wild animal didn't escape him.
Tugging Bobby's shoulder, he moved with him to the other side of the room, ostensibly checking on his still-unconscious companions.
"It's not good, is it?" Bobby whispered as he checked Emma's pulse.
Logan was silent for a moment before answering. "No. Kid's been through a lot. More than some X-Men I know could have survived. And I ain't talking about just you," he added, noticing the way Bobby deflated at his words. "Don't think that 'Ro or Cyke could get through this any better than you could."
Bobby blushed slightly from the compliment, but even with his heightened senses Logan couldn't detect it-a benefit of his mutation that few people recognized.
"Think she'll make it?"
Logan stared at him as he answered. "No."
Kurt froze as Leslie shifted her body partially on to his lap, Logan's coat sliding down her back. His mind knew that this wasn't the time for romance…but his body just knew that the woman he'd fallen for was sitting on his lap. Naked. Sans clothes. In her birthday suit.
He forced himself to relax, breathing deeply as he gently stroked her hair, noticing angrily how chard and brittle it was. He'd dreamed of doing just this to her hair, but in his fantasies it had been like liquid silk…
Kurt forced himself from that train of thought. "Leslie, meine liebe," he whispered, "vhat do you vant me to do for you? How can I help you?"
She turned her head to look at him, black eyes drawing him into their murky pools. She opened her mouth slightly, as if to answer him, then closed it. Instead she nuzzled her head against his chest.
Sighing in frustration, Kurt continued with his ministrations, thinking of things to do to the Pontiff when he got his hands on him.
She wasn't sure what the blue one said to her, but she sensed, deep on a level that even her powers couldn't bring her to, that he wanted to help her. She longed to speak with him, to let him know that it was okay, soon she'd be Pure, and then they could speak…
The coat-was that what they called it? She thought it was-rubbed painfully against her swollen back, but she made no attempt to move it, reveling in the musky scent it carried with it. He had placed it on her, and she already knew that she did not wish to do anything to hurt him.
She desperately hoped that these were not the ones He wanted her to kill…and for the first time she could remember, she thought about disobeying her Master.