[Yes, I know that the formatting on Jean and the Professor's conversation got screwed. No, I don't know why. Everyone understood it though, right? Please? It just would not load properly. So it looks a little weird. That's all.

[Now that that's out of my system, I would like to thank everyone who reviews my fic. Including and especially Krazy Xanadu and MonkeyAlien. (Yes, it's favouritism, see if I care!) I am really grateful. I am also really grateful to the lovely, lovely people who have put this story on their favourites list, and very sorry that Boom-Boom 101 didn't keep it there.On with the fic!]

Professor Xavier stared at the wall. Is there any way of telling when exactly he was poisoned?

I'm afraid not, Professor. The most I can tell you is that it was more then three years ago. But – there is something strange, Jean continued with a frown, studying the test results more closely.

What?

Looking at these results, I'd say that Kurt's body chemistry has been altered more then once. He's being poisoned because of his body fighting the changes, but judging by the rate of rejection, I doubt that he could have survived one year, let alone three. So the changes that have saved him must have been made quite recently, which means that –

Which means that whoever did these alterations is coming back and repeating them every time Kurt needs them? Professor X asked, raising his eyebrows. What was going on? Kurt had been poisoned, and saved – not with a cure, but by having highly unusual treatment to change his body chemistry. And whoever did the original change had apparently been repeating the procedure every time his body reverted to normal. Is there a cure for whatever he was poisoned with?

I can't even tell you whether it was a natural poison or a manufactured one, Jean said desperately. I'm sorry, Professor – but we need to find the person who did this. I daren't even try a general anti-toxin, for fear of what it might do to him.

Very well, the Professor answered, trying to reassure her. We should see if his foster parents can provide any clues. Unfortunately, they are obviously unaware of what happened to him, or they would have warned us.

Yes, Professor, sighed Jean. She didn't feel very hopeful that Kurt's foster parents could tell them anything useful; she could tell that Professor Xavier didn't either.

Kitty and Rogue were talking about what was wrong with Kurt in their room. Or rather, Kitty was talking. Rogue was glaring at her from underneath her pillow.

"Do you think that Kurt's gonna, like, get better? I really hope he does. It just wouldn't be the same without him, you know? I mean, sure he can be kind of a jerk at times, but that doesn't mean that he deserves to die, right?"

"Fer the last tahme, would'ja jest SHUT UP!" growled Rogue. 'She's been talkin' about this since la'hts out! Sayin' the same thangs, over an' over. If'n she doan' shut up soon, Ah'm gonna –'

"Well, you don't need to, like, shout at me!" Kitty whinged. Rogue wished for a few moments that she had claws like Logan, so that she could cut out the annoying girl's tongue. She held the pillow tighter over her ears, trying to ignore Kitty and go to sleep. 'Evan doan' know how lucky he is,' was her final thought before she finally fell asleep.

Kurt sighed, and opened his eyes. It was so hot, and he had no idea where he was. There were images of a girl called Kitty, and sometimes they were real and sometimes they weren't. There was a bald man whose name Kurt only remembered occasionally, who could talk without sound. There was a pretty woman with red hair, who looked very worried about something. And then there were the images that made no sense at all. Walls that moved to block his way, and purple chickens that sang like his mother used to when he was sick. Where was she? She never left him alone before when he felt unwell.

Come. Kurt's head jerked up. He looked around eagerly, trying to spot where the voice had come from.

Come.

"Ja, komme ich [translation: Yes, I'm coming]," he muttered. He crawled out of the bed, and began to pull on clothing.

Top. Boots. Cloak, the voice suggested. He struggled into the items, and then made his way out of the infirmary.

"Ich komme. Bitte Monster, Wartezeit! Ich komme [translation: I'm coming. Please, Monster, wait! I'm coming.]"