Kurt was holding onto Jean-Paul's shoulders gently, trying to be heard over the ringing in Jean-Paul's ears. Jean-Paul blinked away the multiple other Kurts, wincing when he could finally hear again. "Jean-Paul, are you alright? Please, answer me."

Jean-Paul felt dizzy and sick, his tongue was like cotton and his throat felt like he had shoved sticks down it "I'm okay. Sacre bleu, what happened? I feel like my head has been through the grinder."

"Jean used a psychic attack on you," Kurt said softly, slowly. "We've all been on the receiving end before and it's not any fun. But you vwill vwork past it in time. The headache aftervwards is the vworst part." He teleported away and then back in a few seconds, holding a cold bottle of water and pain medication. "Here, this vwill help with the pain."

Jean-Paul cautiously took the medication and water. "Why are you helping me? I thought you didn't like me."

Nightcrawler's face lit up in surprise. "Vwhat? Vwhat made you think that?" His hands lowered to his navel and he began to twiddle his… thumbs.

Jean-Paul shrugged. "I just… you're very distant from me. You don't talk to me. You're Piotr's friend, but I don't think we've really ever had a conversation. And… I'm sure last night didn't help you feel any more hospitality toward me. And… And I know you don't really care for…" He gestured to himself, hoping that would explain what he meant. He really didn't want to talk about sexualities and distastes for them right now. His head was pounding and he could feel the blood rushing through his temples.

Kurt was quiet for a moment. "I've grown past that," he said, sitting down on the couch and staring at the blank television. "I grew up in a place where things vwere very different than they are here. I firmly believe in God and his vword, but I also don't vwant to lose a friend like Piotr ever again. It vwas stupid of me to say those things to him, but it was because I cared." He looked over at Jean-Paul. "I thought you didn't like me, mein freund. Because of the things I had said to Piotr." He sighed, looking down at his hands.

"I gave you space because I thought that if you ever vwanted to be my friend, you'd say something. I just assumed your silence toward me meant that you did not vwant to be friends. I vwas okay with that. I said some pretty horrible things to Piotr and I'm sure he told you vwhat I said, and if he didn't vwell… He vwas always the bigger person. I respect you, Jean-Paul. And I no longer see homosexuality as vwhat I once did. How can people so kind and loving and forgiving like Piotr be an abomination?"

"I'm sorry," Jean-Paul interrupted. "I… I never stopped to think that you thought I hated you." Jean-Paul's head was swimming, but he was able to focus on Nightcrawler fairly well. "I guess I don't hate you; I never really did. I was hurt by what you said to Piotr and it was really hard to get him to talk to me about it. I did resent you for a while, but I never hated you. More… hurt. I really thought you hated me though." He let out a nervous laugh. "I guess I thought you blamed me for Piotr being gay, as ridiculous as that sounds. But it's happened to me before. A friend or a family member of a friend or lover blames me for their son, brother, friend being gay. You just… never talked to me and when you did it was always so reserved and short that I just assumed. And after last night, I really, really thought you hated me."

Nightcrawler bit his lip. "About last night, I am sorry I slapped you. You vwere just being so hysterical, I didn't know vwhat to do. You vweren't making any sense and I was honestly scared you vwere going to pass out. Can you… Can you tell me vwhat happened?"

Jean-Paul drank some water and looked out the window. "I… I wouldn't say I made a mistake, but I definitely didn't do something good. I don't think you've ever been so…" He stopped himself, looking at Kurt closely. "No, I'm sure you have. I bet there's been times you've been so down and lonely and hurting that you've thought about killing yourself. That you've thought about ending it in any way possible because surely death can't be any worse than the living hell you're going through."

Kurt paused but then slowly nodded. "I'm sure our circumstances vwere much different, but ja, I've thought about it, even almost attempted it."

Jean-Paul nodded as well. "I don't know when I started to think like that, started to really hate everyone around me. I started… I realised I was falling out of love with Piotr, not because of him, but because of me. I was hating myself and wanted to die. I guess I thought if I couldn't even love myself, then I couldn't even love someone else, especially someone who deserved to be loved. I guess it had been happening slowly, so slowly I didn't notice until… until it was bad. Within ten minutes of each other, I had two separate thoughts of killing myself. And not quick ways. Painful, lasting ways. That would take forever for me to actually die. And I realised I really, really wanted them to happen. I was on a bridge, looking at the water, contemplating throwing myself into it, when… when Quicksilver showed up."

The expression on Kurt's face darkened. "But he literally was there to talk," he defended quickly. "He… he knew what I was going through, and he seemed sincere. Not the false sense of sincerity that you can often tell with people. He knew what I was going through, being in a wheelchair. Being unable to take care of yourself or being able to use your power. He pointed out to me that literally anyone else could still use their powers in a wheelchair. You could still teleport, Jean could still use her psychic powers. Scott? Yeah. Kitty could. Piotr even could. I realised, in that moment, that I was useless. It made me sick to my stomach more than ever to know that I was literally useless. I couldn't do anything! And… he told me he had a proposition for me. And I know he's bad. I told him no at first. But then he ran with me. It was amazing. I don't know how to describe it, but it was so freeing. It had been months since I felt speed like that."

"And I miss it. And he told me there was a way for me to walk again. A way to run again, and Kurt, believe me when I say I initially said no. I told him there was a catch, because with people like them, there's always a catch. But I told him I'd think it over, but before I did anything for him, and before they fixed me, they had to help Piotr, too. I was scared. I was losing myself and I didn't want to lose him. And god I'm so fucking selfish. He could've died and it would have been my fault." He dropped his head into his hands and sniffed. "I could have killed Piotr and I didn't even stop to think about what my actions could cause."

"But he is okay, no? You cannot punish yourself for everything, Jean-Paul."

Jean-Paul sighed. "I know, I know. But Jean seems to think otherwise. He's okay, I keep telling myself that. He's alive and okay and he can be free to be himself again. He can walk down the street again without people watching him. Now, if we walk down the streets, the only thing people will be looking at is me…" Kurt hummed in understanding, his hand resting on Jean-Paul's knee. "But how do I even tell Piotr that I knew last night would happen. I mean, I didn't know how it would happen or when, but I knew I was perfectly safe last night and that no harm would come my way. He was probably so worried, and, after what happened the last time someone kidnapped me, I would be, too. God, I'm a horrible person. A horrible, horrible person."

"I don't think you were a horrible person, only a desperate one," Kurt said, squeezing Jean-Paul's knee gently. "I cannot say that I vwould have done the same, but I do not judge you for vwhat you have done. We cannot fix past mistakes, only learn from them."

"Kurt," Jean-Paul sobbed, "How was it that we didn't think we could be friends?" He cried, harder than he had whenever he thought Piotr was dying, harder than he had when Jean was yelling at him. He needed this cry, an honest, open cry. When he had calmed down, the quiet only interrupted by hiccups, he looked up to Kurt. "Do you think Piotr will be mad at me when I tell him?"

Kurt sighed, sitting back on the couch. "I do not know if I am being honest. He might be, but again, he is always playing the bigger man. So maybe he vwill forgive you? I do not think he could stay mad at you for very long. He loves you."

Jean-Paul looked out the window, blinking away the wetness in his eyes. "I don't know when they'll come to me. When they're going to try to heal me. And if they'll want to take me then, or if I will have time between it all."

"Who? Take you?"

"The Brotherhood. The condition to being healed was that whenever they came for me, I would leave to go join the Brotherhood. I wasn't thinking right; I was so desperate. It killed me to finally tell them I agreed with the conditions. But… I was so scared."

Kurt sighed. "That part might cause some problems vwith Piotr. Vwhen they come for you, regardless of vwhen, you can know that I will fight to keep you vwith us. You are a part of us, Jean-Paul. Regardless of how Jean feels about you. In fact, I'm mad at her right now, for attacking you like that. It was uncalled for. If she had just sat and listened to you like this, things would have been okay." He shook his head. "In all honesty, though, I think you should go talk to Piotr before she tells him in a fit of emotion."

Jean-Paul nodded in agreement. "Thank you Kurt. You're a really good person."

Kurt smiled, "It was no problem, Jean-Paul."

Northstar wheeled himself out of the room and down to the infirmary. He pushed the door open slowly and wheeled in. "Piotr, I need to talk to you."

Piotr was sitting up, a stern look on his face. "There's no need. Jean told me everything. No, she showed me everything. I'm… I'm disappointed, Jean-Paul."

"I-"

"Not just with you, but also with Jean. I think she should have let you tell me first." He frowned, his eyes showing nothing but hurt and betrayal. "So, I want you to explain to me what I was just shown. Why did you meet up with Quicksilver? Why did you agree to join the Brotherhood? Why did you do this, just to get your legs back?"

Jean-Paul felt sick, angry, and betrayed. "So that's how Jean played it off? She made it like I didn't agonise over it? Did she tell you I had thought about killing myself, or did she just tell you that I made a deal with Quicksilver?" He let out a harsh laugh; his face contorted in pain and anger. "I'm not defending what I did, it was a horrible decision on my part. But you know what, Kurt was right. What's happened has happened and I can't undo it. And honestly, I wouldn't because I know you turn out okay. I… I missed you. I was…" He took a deep breath, forcing himself to look at Piotr. "I was afraid that I wasn't in love with you anymore."

Piotr's eyes widened and his face went pale and the heart monitor missed a beep, letting Jean-Paul know that he had really hurt Piotr with that sentence. "Do you still feel that way? Am I chasing after phantom feelings, Jean-Paul? Should we just end everything?"

Jean-Paul opened his mouth to reply but no sound came out. He closed his mouth and sat there in silence. "Can I explain myself? Or are you just going to take Jean's botched versions of my memories as fact and leave it at that?" He was angry and it could be heard in his voice. He didn't mean to direct it at Piotr, but he was just so angry at everything. At himself, at Quicksilver, at Jean, his sister, the Acolytes, the Banshee. He sighed. "Sorry. Just.. can I explain myself?"

Piotr bit his bottom lip, averting his eyes. "I would rather see the memories for myself, with you there."

"Well, we're leaving Jean out of this, so unless you have an idea of what to do, you're going to have to take my word."

There was a thick, tense silence between the two of them. "Fine," Piotr said, raspy and forced. "If you won't let me see what Jean saw… then I guess this is the end for us. I'm sorry Jean-Paul, but I don't think we can be together anymore. Not if you've fallen out of love with me and not if you can't explain to me why you almost got me killed."

Jean-Paul felt like someone had just reached into his chest and was twisting his heart. His lungs were burning and the blood in his ears was all he could hear. He felt the heat of tears in his eyes but never felt them on his cheeks and- had it not been for the sudden wetness dripping onto his hands in his lap- would never have known he was crying. His world was tilting on its axis and he felt like he was going to fall. There was so much pressure on him, he felt like his body was going to be crushed under the weight of it all. He looked up from the floor to see Piotr's own eyes were filled with tears and his cheeks were red and splotchy. His mouth was set as if he was going to speak and Jean-Paul was hoping he'd take back those words, but he said nothing.

"Alright," Jean-Paul whispered, wheeling himself out of the infirmary and back into the living room, his heart thudding heavily in his chest. Kurt was sitting on the couch still, laughing at something on the television, but Jean-Paul could hardly hear him over the screaming in his head. The screaming grew so loud and he didn't even realise he was physically screaming until Kurt was shaking him and in front of him.

Jean-Paul couldn't stop. He screamed until there was nothing left inside of him. There were no words, just screams. He screamed until he was empty. Empty of feelings, of words, of emotions, of life. He didn't know how he ended up in the couch in Kurt's arms, those abnormal hands smoothing down his hair. He didn't know how it happened, but he knew it was what he needed. He was crying still, but he couldn't scream, his throat was raw and scratchy.

He fell asleep listening to Kurt mutter in German, hoping that when he woke up, everything would be better.