Sam vs Kurt (Deathfic, Fighting over Rahne) – Requested by Skiltch

There was a storm outside. This one had occurred naturally, but Ororo wasn't complaining about it, nor had she opted to stop it. Indeed, nobody at the Institute seemed to mind much. As people often do on such nights, the students had sat for hours under blankets in the Rec room, talking about everything and nothing as they pleased.
Everyone, that is, except for Kurt. The Elf had been unusually quiet, almost sullen, for the last three days. Although the others had stayed up well past midnight, he'd gone off to bed shortly after nine, early for him under any circumstances. However, since Kurt tended to be as talkative as the average rock when something was bothering him, the reason for his current funk remained a mystery to all. Rahne Sinclair, for one, had no idea what was bothering the Elf.
Until she opened her bedroom door.

Even in human form, her sense of smell was unusually sharp. As such, the strong musky odour that wafted out of the open door prevailed over her senses instantly. Not a glimmer of light shone inside the room, which in itself was another indication of who was inside. Rahne stopped dead at the doorway.
"Kurt?" she called into the inky darkness. "What're ye doing in there?"
Kurt's voice seemed to come from every corner of the room at once, sounding slightly huskier than usual. "After last week, Rahne... you need ask?"
Rahne's mouth went dry at that not-so-gentle reminder. One week ago, she and Kurt had discovered that they had something in common. That 'something' was an annual hormonal cycle that sent them both into an uncontrollable rut at around the same time. They'd decided, not exactly thinking straight at the time, to resolve their mutual problem, and to forget about it afterwards - which Rahne had indeed been trying to do. She regretted the slip, and had no plans or desire for a repeat performance.
Unlike Kurt, apparently.
Rahne shook her head, not walking into the room. "Kurt, last week was last week. I dinnae need tae do... that... again."
A throaty chuckle came out of the shadows. " Es tut mir leid, Rahne, but... I'm afraid I didn't quite get it all out of my system. And we did agree to help one another."
She took an unconscious step back into the deserted hallway. "Nae. Nae, Kurt, it was only the one time. I can't help ye. Go and vent on someone else, 'cause I'm not interested."
Kurt's voice became mocking. "Nein? Are you sure I cannot change your mind?"
Rahne only nodded, a sense of trepidation rising.
A sigh from the dark room. 'Ah, but Rahne..." A blue hand shot out of the darkness and grabbed a handful of her shirt.
He was right there.
Right inside the doorway.
"...I insist."
With one yank, Rahne was dragged into the darkness. The door slammed shut behind her.

----

The hallway was otherwise empty as Sam Guthrie headed for his bedroom. Humming softly to himself, he didn't think anything was wrong, exactly, as he passed Rahne's door. Even when he stopped and frowned, he wasn't sure what had bothered him. A moment later it hit him.
Rahne's door was closed.
Rahne's door, as a rule, was always open. Even when changing her clothes, she never allowed the latch to close properly, an eccentricity that she herself was unable to explain. The others, finding it odd at first, had eventually stopped caring; but the door remained open. Now, intrigued by this break in form, Sam stepped back to the door, raising one hand to knock.
Then voices came through, muffled by the wood.
"...Were not objecting like this last time..."
"Let me go! Kurt, I said - agh - nae! Getoff, ye damn - Kurt, nae!"
Sam grabbed the handle. Locked.
"Nae! Kurt, let me - nae, stop, I ? Kurt!"
Sam stopped caring about possibilities and acted on instinct. Stepping back, he raised one foot and lashed out. The lock shattered and he practically jumped into the room, hitting the light switch as he did so.

Rahne lay on her back on the floor in the centre of the room, Kurt pinning her down. One of her pigtails had come out, her lower lip was swollen, and her shirt was in tatters, scratches vivid on her bared skin. She was breathing heavily, and her eyes were wide and pleading as her head snapped around toward Sam.
Kurt glanced over one shoulder, his tail coiling slowly in the air. He wore nothing but a pair of khaki cargo pants, and his long hair as swept back in loose curls. His breathing was even heavier than Rahne's.
When the door had burst open, he had been lying on top of Rahne, raised up on his elbows. Now he raised himself fluidly, releasing Rahne and standing in one smooth motion. Freed, Rahne scrambled away and huddled in a ball in the corner, as far from Kurt as she could get. He, however, didn't so much as glance at her, having eyes only for Sam. He stood easily, arms at his sides, with a faint smirk on his face. His eyes seemed to burn.
"Have you never heard of knocking, Sam?" he inquired. "I'm afraid you interrupted. And Herr Professor will be most unhappy when he sees that you have destroyed Rahne's door."
For a moment, Sam said nothing, taking in the scene. Then Kurt's words sunk in.
"Me? He's going to be unhappy with me? What the Hell?" Sam's utter disbelief was a palpable thing. "How about you? Never heard of 'no means no'?"
Kurt growled softly. "You do not understand what's going on, Sam. Leave."
Instead, Sam took a step forward. "I understand, buddy. I understand that you're in here - with Rahne - and you're attacking her. And she's not into it. So I'm not leaving until you do."
A slow, almost dangerous grin came onto Kurt's face. "So?" he asked politely. "If I choose to stay, what then? We shall sit here until the world ends? A fine troop of dummkopfe we shall be." He turned his back and began to walk toward Rahne.
Sam bounded forward immediately and clamped one hand down on Kurt's shoulder, whirling the German mutant around.
"Don't you fucking dare!"
Kurt's grin got wider, but there was not a trace of humour in it. "Well, now, here we are. And tell me, Farm Boy, what happens now?"
Sam took a swing at him.
Kurt caught the blow easily, holding Sam's fist in one three-fingered hand. His left whipped up and gripped Sam's throat tightly.
The grin became a rictus.
Kurt called back over his shoulder without his eyes leaving Sam's face. "Be with you in just one moment, Rahne. Don't go away."
They vanished in an explosion of smoke.
Rahne covered her face with her hands.

----

Sam felt the momentary disorientation and nausea that always came with being the passenger in a sudden teleport. A moment later, however, the discomfort vanished into the rain.
And then Kurt threw - literally threw - Sam away as though he were a rag doll.

As he landed, Sam's mind was occupied with several things at once. One was that Kurt was far, far stronger than he looked. Another was that he'd landed in a miniature lake of mud and water, and was now filthy and drenched. A third was to wonder where he was.
Kurt seemed to know what that last thought was. "Just to give us a little privacy, Farm Boy. Wouldn't want to be interrupted twice in one night, now would I?"
Water dripped off Sam's nose as he scrambled to his feet. "Kurt, what the hell is wrong with you?" he demanded. "I don't know what's going on, but for Christ's sake, will you snap out of it?"

BAMF

A clenched fist thudded into Sam's chest, sending him flying backwards and into the mud once more. Kurt growled, the smoke from the abrupt teleport clearing around him. "That's for blasphemy."
Wheezing, Sam got up again. "Why?" was all he managed.
Kurt actually laughed, the rain soaking his hair and fur. "According to Herr McCoy? I have so much testosterone in my system that I'm not thinking straight, and it's made me unusually aggressive." He snorted. "Of course, the good doctor spoke for an hour, and used much longer words, but that was all I could understand. Now then, if we could begin? Rahne is waiting for me, after all..."
Sam felt his fists clench into big, bony hammers. "Over my dead body," he spat.
A sudden flash of lightning glinted in silver droplets off Kurt's fur, and his reply was almost lost in the roll of thunder.
"If you insist."
A wild light blazed from Kurt's eyes as he advanced thought the teeming rain.

Sam raised one arm defensively as Kurt came on, his other fist cocked at his side. In contrast, Kurt strolled casually, arms at his sides, tail coiling unceasingly in the air behind him, the same maniacal grin on his features.
"I don't see why you are so angry, Farm Boy," Kurt commented as he came. "She loved every minute of it last time. I nearly went deaf from her squealing..."
Red fury clouded Sam's mind. Kurt had stepped into arm's reach with that final statement; Sam used it. His right shot up, flinging away drops of rain in a sweeping roundhouse punch. Kurt ducked it easily, swung with his left; Sam caught the blow on his shoulder.
Then Kurt waded in, laughing insanely as the rain quickened. He swung with both hands at once, a windmill of jabs that forced Sam backwards through the mud. Sam blocked desperately, dodging those he couldn't catch, but it couldn't last. Less than a dozen blows had been fired at him before a sudden sucker punch cracked into his nose, drawing a spurt of blood. Sam stumbled, half slipping in the mud.
Kurt was on him instantly.
Sam found himself held up by the now torn collar of his shirt, twin suns staring up into his own eyes. In desperation, he lashed out - a real haymaker, so sudden that Kurt couldn't dodge in time. It landed on his jaw with a solid, meaty thump.
Kurt didn't even flinch.
"Oh, shit," Sam said.
Then, growling monotonously, water dripping from his nose and chin, Kurt began to hit him again and again and again.

----

Logan stalked down the hall, barking at the students to hurry up and get to bed. It as a quarter to three in the morning, high time that they were asleep - except for Kurt, who had apparently beaten them all. Logan frowned to himself.
Better check on the Elf... his troubles always have a way of being a lot bigger than he makes out...
Cursing himself for a sentimental fool, he reached Kurt's room at the end of the hall and paused, sniffing. Then his frown deepened. He opened the door.
The room was empty. And unless he was mistaken, the Elf hadn't been in there for quite some time.

Logan was still working the problem over in his mind a few minutes later as he walked down another corridor, this one given to the New Mutants. It was then that he picked up Kurt's scent again. Only now it was... different... somehow. Like a mixture of a workout and some serious hormonal issues.
He put the thought aside for a moment when he saw Rahne's door, wide open, streaming light into the hallway.
Ya'd think the damn girl was born in a tent...
Then he saw the broken lock. Realised that Kurt's scent was even stronger.
And suddenly got a very, very bad feeling.
Hurrying, he reached the door, put one hand on either side of the frame, and stuck his head into the room, taking in the mix of smells, his gaze shifting for a few seconds all around the room. Then it settled on the small huddled figure whimpering in the corner.
The temperature of Logan's blood seemed to be inversely proportional to how wide his eyes were.
"Oh, Jesus frikkin' Christ..." he breathed.

----

Sam climbed to his feet for the umpteenth time. He had blood oozing from a split lip and a broken nose, one eye was almost swollen shut, and he had a mild concussion.
Kurt, unmarked save for his ragged appearance, shook his head. "Es gibt genug, Farm Boy. You have wasted enough of my time. I'll give Rahne your regards, ne?"
Sam spat a mouthful of blood and dirt that was lost in the teeming rain. ?Never thought you'd duck out before the job's done, asshole."
Kurt raised his eyebrows. "My. You just don't know when to quit, do you?"
Sam shook his head. "Wrong. If anything, I'm just a little slow to get started."
For the first time, uncertainty showed in Kurt's face, but only for an instant. Not because he quelled the feeling.
It was because, at that moment, Sam Guthrie shot off the mark at a pace that would have made Quicksilver green with envy and collided head-on with Kurt.

A wake of mud and water rose in the air behind them as Sam flew, pushing Kurt in front of him. Then he changed angles, aiming straight up, the momentum allowing him to push Kurt some twenty metres up before gravity reclaimed the demented Elf.
Kurt fell those twenty metres and bounced like a dropped toy. At least four ribs were broken, and now Sam wasn't the only one with a concussion. As Sam rocketed up into the sky for another pass, Kurt regained his feet, his face a mask of fury.
Looking up, his eyes narrowed to slits as he gauged Sam's current flight path. Then he teleported abruptly in an explosion of sulfur, reappearing in the air above and in front of Sam - and dropping perfectly to grab hold of the flying mutant as he passed. A deep, furious growl issued from Kurt's throat for an instant.
And then he reared his head back, plunged it down, and brought his fangs together on the back of Sam's neck in one terrible bite.

----

Logan led the way, Scott barely able to keep up with him in the slippery conditions. Having discovered Rahne, Logan had followed the trail of scents in the room and worked out a general idea of the story. Jean, Kitty and Ororo were tending to Rahne; Logan and Scott, guided by the Professor, were trying to find Sam and Kurt.
"So," Scott panted. "Why the hell... did Kurt try... to rape Rahne?"
Logan grunted. "Ask Poindexter when we get back. You'll get all the answer ya want, and then some."
Scott was about to ask something else when they saw, not far ahead, an unnatural object hurtling through the sky at speed.
Cannonball.
Heartened by that single glimpse, they hurried on wordlessly.
They hadn't gone ten metres before a scream of pure agony tore through the sheets of rain, cut off in a pained gurgle.
The flying figure dropped like a stone.

----

Sam stood over the small depression he'd made in the mud when he landed, looking down at where Kurt writhed in pain in the mud. Sam's ears were still ringing from that awful scream.
"You moron," Sam spat without much pity. "I can fly through a goddamn steel wall, and you try to bite me?"
Four of Kurt's teeth had shattered instantly at the attempt; his jawbone had cracked; and when he slipped off, he'd bit savagely into his own gums, shredding his tongue. Blood poured from his mouth as strangled groans slipped out through the torn lips.
Suddenly Kurt seemed to see him. His eyes flared.
Flared.
Bounding to his feet, he reared back, swung one fist at Sam's head - and was sent flying as a blast of crimson energy shot through the falling rain and struck him in the side.

Sam sagged visibly - and painfully - with relief as Logan and Scott arrived, stumbling through the thick mud.
"Kurt..." he gasped helplessly. "The bastard went nuts... he tried... Rahne..."
Logan cut him off. "Yeah. We know. Saw what you left in her bedroom, put two and two together. Looks like we only just got here in time."
Sam snorted. "You got here late." He swallowed. "Crazy fucker keeps getting back up, wants to kill me or something. I don't know. Look, if you can calm him down, that'd be just-"
Kurt lunged out from the night, dripping with water, blood and grime, ruined mouth bared for one last bite in Sam's throat, too soon for him to get out of the way.

SNIKT

Logan whirled, not even aiming his claws, just putting them in between Kurt and Sam. He succeeded. And he failed. The middle claw of his left hand penetrated Kurt's right eye, the others gouging bloody holes in his head.
The force of Kurt's lunge kept him coming, even though he was dead instantly. His face struck Logan's fist heavily before his own weight pulled him down, the claws carving three vertical lines through his head and exiting through the top of his skull. Blood gushed out, staining the muddy ground.
The other three stood and stared in mute horror as the rain continued to fall endlessly from the dark sky.