Hunted and Hated
An X-Men Evolution Fanfic by Quill N. Inque
I do not own X-Men Evolution.
Chapter 3: Tender Hearts
Kurt tried not to wince as Catherine dabbed the wounds left by the Inquisition's weapons. He still lay on his stomach, and Kurt's fangs bit into his blue lips as Catherine reached for a needle and thread.
The young mutant looked away. He didn't want to see what was going to happen next.
Catherine's voice was soft. "Lie still, senor Kurt, or I will not be able to close your wounds." Though the girl maintained an air of comfort for Kurt's sake, her heart was hurting at mere thought of the task that lay ahead of her. Kurt's wounds, after all, would take months to heal if they were not stitched shut.
But all the same, the thought of causing her guest physical discomfort of any kind was abhorrent to Catherine.
Throughout the wee hours of the morning, she had tended to him with a kindness that would have made the Good Samaritan proud, feeding him warm chicken broth with a spoon when Kurt was too weak to eat unaided. And in between mouthfuls, he had told her many things: how a fanatical parishioner had tipped off the Inquisition to his existence, how the priest who'd raised him had sacrificed himself to give Kurt time to get away. Horror stories of how the Inquisition had hunted him like an animal and tales of the tricks Kurt had used to narrowly escape the Church's grasp.
In turn, Catherine told him of her life, as well. She had confided in Kurt the way she had never done with anyone else, told him things that she had never told another human being: of how her father was disappointed in her for not marrying and settling down, of how her suitors had gone away after seeing her strong, vibrant personality. Catherine had told Kurt that many men expected their wives to be submissive and obedient, of how women were expected to live out their days bearing children and doing housework.
"I do not wish to be bound to a man," Catherine had said. "No one wants a woman such as me for a wife."
Kurt had laughed at this, briefly, before doubling up in a spasm of pain. "I think that those men are both blind and foolish," he'd said, and Catherine had turned away so he would not see her blush.
She honestly didn't know why she had opened herself up to the strange young man that had appeared in her home. There was...something about Kurt that made Catherine comfortable and at ease when she was around him. What that something was she had no idea, but it was as tangible and noticeable as the floorboards beneath her feet.
In just a few hours, Catherine had become ashamed of herself for even thinking of turning a kind person like Kurt over to the Inquisition, and she felt disgusted that she'd let the Church's propaganda cloud her senses. How could anyone want to hurt someone as sweet as Kurt? Why couldn't those fools in the Vatican see what Catherine saw in him? The young woman shook her head as she poised the needle over Kurt's torn flesh. Truly, it is an unjust world we live in, if a pure heart like Kurt can be condemned purely by his appearance. Aloud, Catherine addressed Kurt in what she hoped to be a soothing tone of voice. "Do not worry, Kurt," she said. "I will try not to take any longer than necessary."
The needle and thread plunged into Kurt's back, and tears squeezed from his golden eyes as Catherine began to work.
Later…
Catherine breathed a sigh of relief as she finished her bloody work, wiping off the needle and placing it in a clean basin of water. Kurt, meanwhile, twitched spasmodically on his bed, his back and arms afire with pain after such an excruciating procedure. The pillow on which his head lay was damp with agonized tears, and when he spoke, Kurt's voice was raspy from smothered screams.
"Are…you…done?"
"Si," Catherine replied as she handed him a cup of wine. The alcohol, Catherine reasoned, would dull Kurt's senses and thus reduce his pain. But she only gave her friend enough to give him a mild buzz; there was no telling what Kurt might do when he was intoxicated.
His yellow eyes dulled, but there was still work to be done. Catherine put an arm around his furry shoulder and helped Kurt to sit upright. "I need only to bandage your wounds, Kurt," Catherine murmured as she fished a roll of linen bandages from underneath the bed. "It should not hurt very much."
Kurt groaned as he straightened his sore back, which was still very sensitive. "Can we eat afterwards?" he asked, his voice stronger now.
"Of course," Catherine said absentmindedly. She made a mental note to nab one of the chickens for a late lunch one she was done.
A sudden, unforeseen complication dawned on Kurt's guardian angel, and her face turned a fiery crimson as its implications sank in. For a moment, Catherine wrestled with her tongue, and when she finally found her voice, she was obviously embarrassed.
"I need you to remove your tunic, Kurt. Otherwise I cannot mend your hurts properly."
For his part, Kurt was a complete gentleman about it all, and he nodded thankfully at her as he laboredly pulled the tattered cloth over his shoulders. "Of course, Catherine," he said. "But let me ask you one thing."
"And what is that?" Catherine replied.
"Why?"
"Excuse me?"
Kurt gestured about him with his malformed hand. "Why are you doing all this for me? You don't know me; I am a stranger in this land. And you must know what will happen if the Inquisition finds out that you helped me. I…I don't understand," he finished lamely. "It's just…no one ever tried to help me before, so I guess I'm having a hard time believing all this."
Catherine hesitated for a barely perceptible second. In point of fact, she had never stopped to consider the fate that would befall her if the Inquisition caught Kurt in her home. She had merely acted as her conscience dictated, but the thought of the Inquisition's punishments sent chills down Catherine's spine. "It merely seemed like the right thing to do," she replied finally as she unrolled the bandages in her deft fingers. As Catherine did so, she clambered up onto the bed beside him, but her eyes were not completely focused on Kurt's injuries.
Her new friend, it seemed, was very muscular and fit under that layer of fur. There didn't seem to be an ounce of fat on Kurt's body, and Catherine found herself gazing at his hard abs.
Then her senses returned, and Catherine mentally scolded herself as her face turned the color of a tomato. It is not proper for an unmarried woman to have such impure thoughts!
With a hurriedness borne of embarrassment, Catherine forced herself to concentrate on her task. But as she glanced closer, Catherine was taken aback, for there were spots on Kurt's body where the fur would not grow, lines of pale, blue…
The young woman forced down a horrified gasp as the truth hit her like a thunderbolt.
Scars.
Kurt's entire body was covered with scars.
Tears threatened to leak out of the corners of Catherine's eyes, and her heart wrenched violently with pity for her newfound friend. How could someone do a thing like this? Why must Kurt suffer for who he is?
Slowly, gently, Catherine wrapped Kurt's injured arm and back, and she took extreme care not to bind them too tight. Time and again, she found herself distracted by Kurt's appealing build, but in the end, Catherine was able to finish.
A sudden movement caught her eye, and she slapped the back of Kurt's hand when he tried to scratch at his bandages. "Don't do that," she said, sounding for all the world like a mother scolding an uncooperative child. "You could reopen the wounds if you scratch."
"It itches," Kurt replied huffily, but Catherine's eyes danced in amusement.
"You did not utter a word when I stitched you shut," she said teasingly. "And yet you complain about itching bandages?"
Kurt glared at her, but there was no anger in it. "You certainly do not lack wit, Kitty."
Catherine turned her head at that. "Kitty?"
In keeping with his sweet nature, Kurt immediately apologized. "I'm sorry," he said. "It is merely a term that I think suits you. You have many of the cat's qualities."
"Oh?" Catherine was amused. "And what qualities are they?"
Kurt thought for a second. "You are very kind and caring, Catherine, but you are also strong in will and spirit. It is the same with cats, you know: they are affectionate to their humans, but they are independent and make their own decisions. Cats do not submit to their owners as dogs do, just as you will not submit to a man's authority."
"Kitty, hmm?" the young woman looked pensive. "I rather like that nickname. It has a certain…appeal to it, I suppose."
"Well then, Kitty," Kurt said with a smile. "What about this dinner you promised me?"
"I did promise, didn't I?" Kitty said warmly.
"Yes, you did," Kurt replied with mock severity. "And I do hope your cooking skills are satisfactory."
She laughed aloud, and Kitty's voice carried as she headed into the kitchen.
"I do not think you will be disappointed, Kurt."
A/N: Hey, guys! I thought it was about time for an update, and I hope this chapter was enjoyable for you all! Don't expect another update tomorrow, though, 'cause I'm gonna be REALLY busy, due to the annoying interruption of the educational system . In any case, the next installment WILL be up by Friday, so don't worry too much!
Your humble servant,
-Quill N. Inque