Editor's Note: As with Corruption, BlueFooted did an illustration for this piece. The URL for it is http:www. angelfire. com /art2 /bluefooted /images /fdb.jpg (just take the spaces out before trying to go there. ;) )

First Day Back

Kurt stopped again as he reached the landing of the second story. He leaned against the wall, head bowed.

"I can't believe this is so tiring," he panted.

Hank and Ororo were there with him. After five days in Medlab, he had finally been cleared to go back to his own room to recover. He couldn't wait to leave, hating the sterile, brushed steel of medlab. But after the first flight of stairs, he realized that he was still incredibly weak. It would take some time to get up to the third story.

"Who was it that insisted on using the stairs instead of the elevator?" Hank asked. "I told you this would wipe you out before you got halfway there. You didn't believe me, did you?"

"No," Kurt muttered.

" 'It's just a few stairs,' " Hank imitated Kurt's voice and accent. " 'How could that tire me so?' "

"You've made your point, Hank."

"My point is that you can't push yourself this hard this soon. You'll have to take it slow for a little while."

While Kurt was recovering his strength, Ororo looked up to where she knew Kurt's room to be. It had taken a good two minutes for them to get this far, and next flight of stairs would wipe him out again.

"You know, Hank, I think Kurt should save some strength for when he finally gets to his room," she said.

Kurt looked back at her and blinked in confusion. "I should save strength so I can rest in my own bed?"

"I quite agree," Hank replied. "It won't do to have him exhausted so soon."

Kurt started to stand up straight as it dawned on him what they were implying. "You didn't…."

"Didn't what?" Ororo asked.

"You've got something planned up there, don't you?"

Ororo took out a black scarf from her pocket. "I'm afraid you know too much now, Herr Wagner. We have no choice but to take drastic measures."

He was grinning helplessly now, his head ducked in embarrassment, as she tied the scarf around his eyes. She felt rather saw the blush rise to his face.

"I don't believe you're doing this to me…," he mumbled as she finished her work.

"He's all yours, Hank," Ororo chimed as she stood back.

Hank picked Kurt up in his arms, but Kurt didn't stay there. He literally climbed up onto Hank's broad shoulders, where he perched there, tail wrapped around Hank's ample chest.

"You've carried me too often, Hank. At least let me keep some of my dignity this time."

"Far be it from me to deny a man his piggy-back ride." He grabbed Kurt's hands, "However, I will keep hold of your wrists, just in case. This is a kidnapping after all."

"Another one?" Kurt wailed. "Am I doomed to be taken at every chance?"

Hank jogged easily up the stairs, as if he was on a level plain. Ororo had to work a bit harder to keep up. Kurt just hung on, grinning wildly, feeling his face flush with heat that had nothing to do with fever.

"I'm afraid to know what you've done to my room," he said. "Am I to find it filled with balloons or something?"

"Nothing so outrageous as that, Kurt," Hank replied. "Something very big came for you while you were indisposed, and we simply took the incentive of putting it up."

"Something big?" he repeated, confused.

"Remember the flatscreen HDTV you ordered?" Ororo asked. "You should. You spent enough time researching it."

"It finally arrived?" he asked her, excited. "It had been on order for so long I forgot about it!"

Up ahead of him, he heard Logan's voice. "About time he got here! What did you do? Tour the basement first?"

There were others, too, trying to be quiet. The younger students were nearby. Was the entire institute waiting for him? Kurt ducked further and tried to hide his head behind Hank's. He felt Hank dip through a doorframe and knew he was now in his own room.

"I don't believe this," Kurt mumbled again.

"Believe it," Ororo told him as she whipped off his blindfold. "We spent all night putting this together."

When Kurt opened his eyes, he was looking at the previously blank wall across from his bed. There was now a custom, built-in bookshelf and entertainment center there, with a very large flatscreen taking center stage. He gasped in amazement as he stepped off of Hank's back, never taking his eyes off the wall.

"This is just like one of my plans!" he cried. "How did you do this?"

"You aughta hide things better, elf," Logan advised, grinning around his unlit stogie. "I found that sketch pad of yours in no time."

"We all put it together," Bobby added. "We cut the wood and everything. Everyone pitched in, and Peter did the finishing."

Kurt looked over to Peter, who stood head and shoulders above the plethora of students. "I had no idea you were a woodworker, Peter. This is beautiful."

Peter smiled and gave a humble wave of his hand. "Your plans were simple to follow. It was easier to do than you think."

"Dude, turn around!" Jubilee said. "There's stuff on your bed!"

Kurt spun and looked down at his bed, now occupied by gaily-wrapped boxes. His cheeks turned purple and he hid his face behind one hand.

"Someone take a picture!" Rogue crowed. "Our performer's embarrassed from all the attention!"

The gifts were all hand-made by the younger students. There were several tie-dyed T-shirts and sweats, a pair of embroidered jeans, two patchwork denim vests, and many "friendship" macramé bracelets. Xavier noticed, with an internal chuckle, that these "neat, modern, trendy" crafts the children had done would make Kurt look like a refugee from 1969 if he wore all of them at the same time.

Finally came a box full of really irritating, obnoxiously cute, hand-stitched, violently pink sock bunnies … along with a bottle of lighter fluid and a box of matches.

"I wanted to put a cherry bomb in mine, so you could make it explode like in the circus?" Jubilee volunteered as Kurt dangled her lace-encrusted sock bunny by its ear. "But the professor said no."

"That's because you'd take his hand off with it," Xavier said firmly.

"Not if he held it by the ear!"

"It's all right," Kurt said over the rising argument, giving the bunny a little shake. "I think I will like seeing them roast. It will be very satisfying. The high point of the evening performance was watching that stupid bunny explode."

Siryn pouted theatrically. "You bunny-hater!"

He hugged her to him and held the bunny up to her face. "I don't hate all bunnies, just the ones with color that only naturally occurs in toxic waste."

Logan's upper lip curled back in a snarl. "Yeah, those things are toxic, all right."

"We worked hard to make them really, really cutesy so they'd be fun to burn!" another boy chimed.

"And it's all polyester, so it'll melt!" a third put in. "So they'll all be, like, 'aaah! I'm melting!' "

"And if you run out of matches, I can help you out!" Jubilee offered, a couple of sparks flying from her index finger.

Hank clapped his hands twice for attention. "All right, everyone, that's enough for today. Let's not wear out our gyrating gymnast in his first five minutes back."

There was a group hug that occupied the entire bed, and the children left the room. That left the X-men, Xavier, and Hank behind. Kurt let out an exhausted sigh and closed his eyes, rubbing his forehead. Scott came forward from where he'd spent his time, silent in a far corner.

"Looks like we should let you get some rest as well," he said, patting Kurt's shoulder. "At least that fever's gone."

Kurt looked up at Hank. "How long will this weakness last, Hank?"

"I'd say you should count on a good week of recovery to start," Henry replied. "Build up your strength slowly, Kurt. Don't even consider going into the Danger Room until you can get up and down the stairs without resting at each landing."

Kurt sighed again and nodded, looking down at the bed. He pulled his knees up to his chest and his tail around his ankles.

"Perhaps there are other things I can do that are easier than teaching gym. I don't feel right just laying around while everyone else works."

"I'll run a few ideas past Henry tomorrow," Xavier said. "For now, your only responsibility is to show up for dinner tonight. Everyone has missed you terribly."

Kurt chuckled and looked at the array of colorful clothing on his bed. "They won't miss me when I wear these things. I'll stand out even more than I do now. Did they do all of this themselves?"

"They wanted to do something for you, Kurt," Xavier replied. "Considering the usual student finances, I thought their heartfelt sentiments would be better expressed through their hands, and they enjoyed the process thoroughly. They selected the projects on their own."

Kurt picked up a sock bunny that was dripping with lace and ribbons. "Including these?"

"Siryn joked about makin' a pink bunny for you while we were watchin' your 'Fearless Demon Hunters' performance, and Regis said how much you'd like seein' it explode, and things just kind of snowballed from there," Rogue said, smiling and shrugging. "Even the boys got interested in makin' the stupid things when they knew they'd be burned. You ever seen a bunch of boys learnin' how to sew?"

He placed the disposable rabbit back in the box with its brethren. "I would have paid to see that."

He closed his eyes as he rubbed the side of his face. Obviously, his strength was starting to fade. Bobby removed the bunny box from Kurt's bed, placing it on the table nearby. Others took the initiative to clean Kurt's bed of gifts, stacking them all carefully on that same table.

"Rest up here for a few hours, Kurt," Hank said. "We'll see you this evening."

The others wished him well as they filed out. Ororo lingered, watching him. He smiled back at her as he leaned on his tucked-up knees.

"Yes, liebe?" he asked.

They were alone in his room, now. The rest were gone, and no one was hanging around in the hallway. She bent down and put her hand under Kurt's bed.

"I'm glad that you don't mind bunnies that much," she said. "I'd feel pretty bad if this made you feel uncomfortable. I've been planning this since you showed me that DVD last week."

She pulled up another stuffed rabbit. This one, however, had the distinct look of being made by a professional's hands. Instead of the horrendous neon pink, it was a patchwork of indigo velvet and other deep blue fabrics, all seams lined with various types of lighter blue trim or stitchery. Its face was simple, with yellow button eyes and a small, black, embroidered nose. Though homey, it was completely devoid of the dreadful cuteness of the pink sacrificial sock toys. He picked it up and ran his hand across its many different textures with a bit of wonder.

"Did you create this?" he asked.

"I wish I had that much talent," she replied. "I commissioned it from someone who knew that they were doing."

"It's like a scrap quilt," he said, looking at the toy's face. "I've never seen a stuffed toy done this way. It's beautiful. Thank you very much."

She looked to the floor. "I should probably leave you to your rest," she said softly. "Now that you have something to cuddle up to, you need some sleep."

He set the stuffed animal aside and leaned back against the headboard, his tail lazily uncoiling from his legs. "Rest, yes, but I doubt if I will be able to sleep. I'm not so much sleepy as exhausted. There is a difference for me."

"Still, I don't know how much rest you'll get with someone else in the room."

"More than you think." He paused. "Especially if that someone is you."

She looked back at the door for a moment, then walked over and quietly shut it. She moved back to his bed and sat on the edge, next to the spade of his tail. She looked down at it, as if watching his unique limb for the first time. It had a definite front and back: the back had the bony ridge of his spine running along it, while the front was smooth with muscle. A foot or so from the end the tail's sleek appearance was divided by a set of several "rings", one right next to the other, as if someone had managed to slip some napkin rings under his skin. He lifted his tail up and turned it over for her inspection.

She shook her head quickly. "I'm sorry ... I've just never really looked at your tail before," she said. "It's truly fascinating."

He smiled. "I have no idea how the rest of you can live without one. I would not be insulted if you touched it. You would hardly be the first one."

She did, holding the tip in her hand, then running down its length. The skin of the tip, all the way down to the set of rings, felt soft but a bit tough, like the skin of a man's palm. After the rings, the skin was notably more tender, like that of an arm.

She glanced at him and saw he was watching her hands as opposed to her face. He did not seem discomfited by her ministrations. Several months ago, he would have been very tense indeed. Was he more at ease with the circumstances, the surroundings, or her?

"Do the muscles get tense?" she asked, massaging the tip with both hands. "I've seen you snap it back and forth sometimes."

He grinned broadly as he curled up and rested his arms and head on his knees again, an endearingly child-like action. The only thing he could have done to make himself more endearing would be to curl up with the patchwork bunny.

"Yes, it can get tense. Sometimes I try to break up the knots, but it is hard to do on yourself."

"All schwanz jokes aside, I imagine how your tail feels affects the rest of your body keenly," she said. "It's connected to your spine more directly than an arm or leg."

He murmured an affirmative as he closed his eyes. He looks like a cat being petted, she thought.

"Hasn't anyone ever done this for you?" she asked, working a little further down to the rings.

"Nein," he murmured dreamily.

She wanted to ask whether it was because he'd never let anyone this close before, but decided against it. The idea was to relax him, not make him tense. She moved her hands a bit further up his tail, using steady, clinical pressure. Too light and she would tickle or irritate instead. The tail was positively limp in her hands.

She stopped before she got too close to the base of the tail and patted him on the shoulder. "Lay down. I can't work on you when you're sitting up."

He uncurled and turned away from her in one smooth motion as he laid face down on the bed. She worked through his light T-shirt, running her thumbs along the sides of his spine all the way down to the tip of his tail.

"I give you exactly two hours to stop that," he mumbled, his lips barely moving.

"Two hours?" she asked back, just short of laughing.

"All right, three, you sadist." She laughed, and he continued, "Four, and that's my final answer."

Ororo took in a deep breath and slowly let it out in a low hum, her hands spread open on Kurt's back. She tried several different pitches, looking for the right one. Everyone had a different resonance. She found his somewhere around the key of D sharp. The sound vibrated all the way through his body, warming and relaxing at the same time. He sighed under her fingertips, a slight smile of blissful contentment on his face. He was so trusting....

I can't go any further with this, she thought mournfully as she finished her song. Not yet. If I do, I'll lead him somewhere he'll be ashamed of in the morning.

She pulled back. "I imagine you're relaxed enough to sleep now."

He did not answer right away. Perhaps he was sleeping already. That would be best. But as she started to get up off the bed, he stirred.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" she asked back.

He turned his head toward her and opened his eyes ever so slightly. His long lashes almost hid the shining yellow irises beyond.

"You spend this time to relax me, and you are tense," he murmured. "I can hear it."

She sighed and looked away. So much for slipping out quietly. She couldn't lie to him.

"Kurt, if I go any farther, we're going to wind up doing something your religion forbids," she said softly. "The last thing I want to do is add to your repertoire."

She traced a finger down his arm, lightly going over a few of his scars. His eyes followed her hand, then went back to her face.

"Do you understand why it is considered so wrong?" he asked, his voice still quiet and relaxed.

She tried to keep her lips from twisting with distaste, keeping it down to a minor twitch instead. "To keep men from making babies and making tracks. I suppose it's for our protection."

Pause. Then he said, "Is that all you think it is?"

She didn't really want to get into this. She found certain aspects of Kurt's religion very distasteful, especially the shackles of sin and guilt they latched onto its adherents.

"Kurt, it doesn't matter what I think," she told him. "It's a sin for you."

Kurt sighed and muttered, "Solo Scriptorum raises its ugly head." Before Ororo could ask him what he meant by that remark, he placed his hand over hers. "If you would let me, I would explain."

He did not shift position as she turned, but his eyes were more than half open now. She hadn't meant to do this. She meant to let him rest.

"You have heard sex between any but husband and wife is a sin, yes?" he asked, gently. "And it does not always make sense, does it? One obvious reason is to stop men from leaving women with children, and another is to keep certain diseases from spreading. But today we have things to stop diseases and stop from having children, so all you are told is 'it's still a sin, and doing it is wrong because God says so'. Ministers are busy calling people prostitutes instead of explaining why." He squeezed her hand. "Sex creates a bond, Ororo. The bond is very strong. If you are the kind of person who can just throw that bond aside, if you can ignore your emotions and your partner's emotions, that selfishness is a sin unto itself. Men and women who do not form bonds, they see others as objects, and they are seen as objects themselves. That is why prostitution is such a sin; it reduces people to objects.

"Even when there is love behind the act, sex changes the relationship. You don't see each other the same way anymore. Only a mature, committed relationship can stand up to this without being changed for the worse."

"…And getting married is one way to try and make sure the couple know each other and are committed beforehand," she finished slowly. "No one ever explained it that way before."

"Now you understand."

"But why is it such an unshakable law, Kurt?" she asked. "Why would your God be angry with a couple with a mature relationship who just haven't had that ceremony performed?"

"It is a law because mankind does not follow suggestions. We have a history of breaking commands. Thou shalt not steal, thou shalt not kill, thou shalt not bear false witness. We have laws from God against them, we have civil laws against them, and we all know they are wrong, yet they are still done. Imagine how bad it would be if there were no laws set in stone. And so it is with sex before marriage. If there was no law, people would use each other as objects and hurt each other without realizing what they were doing.

"And never forget, liebling; God does not get angry. When we separate ourselves from Him, we do not let Him help, and our troubles grow worse from our own stubborn actions. But God is never angry with us."

She smiled and ran a hand through his short hair. "Not according to you, at least." She wanted to let him sleep. She should let him sleep. And yet, she had to know. "Kurt, how do you feel about it?"

He sighed and looked off in the distance. "Oh, Storm, there are so many things I should do that I cannot. I should take communion every week in church. Instead, I am lucky to find a priest who lets me into the church when there is no one else there. I should go back home and support the rest of my family, but that is not possible. I am too notorious now. I should go to the President and all of his guards and apologize to them, but I do not think I would be well-received." He hesitated, and his voice dropped to a whisper. "I should be praying for Stryker's soul, and I find I cannot do that at all."

He'd gone off on a tangent. Was he that uncomfortable with the issue? Then he looked back at her and stroked her hand.

"I do not know if a church marriage would even be possible for us," he said. "I could be waiting for something that may never come. But … I have never felt this way before, Ororo. I never thought I would find someone, let alone someone who would feel the same way about me. I would very much like to spend an evening with you. I don't know … what I should be doing. I just know I don't want to ruin what we have."

She continued to run her hand through his hair. He closed his eyes again.

"Kurt, I want you to know something," she told him. "I have had the company of men before. But I have never slept with them. I haven't been able to sleep next to someone since I was a tiny girl in my parents' bed. That's more trust and power over me than I ever wanted to give to any man." She paused, still stroking the back of his head. "That night, when I realized you were going to live, I slept by your side. I slept in your arms, Kurt, and I still felt safe when I woke up."

He opened his eyes just a little and looked up at her.

"No matter what we do, or what we don't do, I can't imagine anything you could do to 'ruin' what is between us," she finished. "In this, at least, you can feel secure."

She eased her hand out from under his as she leaned over and kissed his cheek. Once more, he closed his eyes. She picked up the velvet patchwork rabbit and placed it under his arm.

"I love you, Kurt. Sleep well."

He murmurred something as she slipped away, and he pulled the rabbit a little closer to him. He was asleep before she finished closing the door behind her.

Finis