Lance was barely holding back his tears, unable to even look at her as he stood to the side of the hospital bed.
She was lucid in appearance, pale and covered in sweat from the severe injury her body had been dealt. Her hair was messy and matted, and he could almost imagine her awakening and fussing about it's imperfect condition. Machines surrounded her, almost oppressive in the way they had been arranged around her bedside. A breathing mask had been placed over the base of her face to keep her breathing, an IV strung from her wrist and dancing chaotically through the air until it reached a fluid bag pumping essential medicines into her battered body. The machines monitored her vital signs, her weak and faltering pulse constantly making his own heart skip as each beat threatened to mark her last.
He could still remember the only other time he had seen her in a hospital bed, when her tonsils had needed to be removed a few months earlier. They had become infected and the doctors believe it had been what caused the constant colds that prevented so many dates and school lunches spent together. He could still see her clearly, lying on the stiff bed complaining about the tacky hospital gown and cap she was forced to wear, the generic carnations and gifts that he and the members of the X-Men had showered her with after the surgery, the frightened gleam in her eye. How could she have had any idea she would end up here just weeks later, her life being forced into her by artificial methods.
He gently and fearfully reached forward and grasped her frail wrist, making sure to cradle it softly. Her flesh was cold and thin, and he instinctively wanted to pull away from the death unwelcomingly settling in, but he clung to her and expelled it with a saddened expression. The others were silent, keeping watch over them both as the snowstorm raged outside.
"Hey pretty-Kitty. I'm not sure you can even hear me right now, in fact I'm sure you can't, but I'm going to keep talking anyways. You can't let this beat you Kitty, you can't let your body give in. You're one of the strongest people I've ever seen, standing up to me and the rest of the Brotherhood, and whatever else got in the way over the years," he murmured softly, caressing the top of her hand and wishing more than anything she would respond, even if it was a mere flicker of an eyelid that revealed she was able to sense he was near. He continued, still hoping for her beautiful eyes to open again.
"I wish there had been something I could have done to help you Kitty, anything that could have prevented this. You should have waited out the storm at the mall or gone to a shelter nearby. You remember the time I was driving you home in the winter, when my Jeep slid? You said you never wanted to experience that again. It was like a joke to us then...we never realized just how close we had been to dying I guess," he barely got out, still hearing echoes of her laughter at the grim prospect of getting the annoying dent out of the front of his Jeep, "I'm going to do everything I can to help you, even if it means spending every penny I can scrounge to make sure any hospital bills get paid. Please Kitty, just show me you're listening, that there's hope I won't lose you."
He was crying now, openly without a care if the guys saw him or not. He could feel each of them place a comforting hand on his shoulder, promising there would never be a snide comment made on his weakness, all of them silent as he wept and his grasp upon Kitty's wrist tightened slightly.
If only he had known he wouldn't have allowed her to go. He had been planning to convince her to come to the Brotherhood house earlier in the evening when they had been getting ready for their Christmas celebration. But he had forgotten to phone her in the chaos of getting the boarding house decorated and festive for the holidays, and had instead hoped to get in touch the following day at school. If he had just called her and invited her over, she may not been lying her before him, unconscious with little chance of ever walking, or even waking again. He finally stopped sobbing, tears steadily falling down his face without hindrance.
"Please...just show me you're going to live, or else I don't know if I can..." he barely whispered, leaning on the edge of her bed with his eyes closed and the tears soaking the bed sheets.
Suddenly he felt something, a slight movement, and he opened his eyes once again and looked down where he was still gripping her hand softly, where he had sensed the motion.
He watched as her hand slowly and weakly grasped his own, his eyelids shivering slightly as she turned her head slightly and subsided back into forced slumber.
He smiled slightly, tears still pouring down his face as he knew he would be able to keep his promises.