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Forever Yours: Whether I Like It or Not...	By : Tristatt Category: X-men Comics > Het - Male/Female Views: 3825 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men, nor do I own the characters from it. While the original characters and scenerios are my own, I do not own certain X-men related phrases and terms. I do not make money from this.

Chapter List
- 18
- 19
I swear that I wasn't ignoring anyone's pleas for an update. AFF.net has changed alot of stuff on the author panel and it took me an insane amount of time trying to find where and how to update. I am afraid we are coming to an end, maybe two more chapters after this and I am already on chapter 1 of my new Xmen story.... likely featuring Kurt... again. Thanks for the reviews, they are what made me sit and read through all the instructions on updating -- Until next time-
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               Kate had found herself, much to her dismay, awake in and confined to a small room that she would risk labeling ‘a cell’. The walls were bare grey metal, the floor a beige poured concrete, and the overhead light made the place gloomier than it would be if it were completely dark. Of course there was a door, and it may had been the object of her attention had she not had been in a depressed funk mixed with guilt over killing Logan. She knew that the X-Men would be whom she'd need help from now, especially since Sinister was like them... in a creepy, kidnapping, having powers sort of way-- but they were the last people whom she could ask for help now.
             When she first arrived, it had felt like days ago, she sat in a corner furthest from the door and made an effort to anticipate any conversation that would likely arise with Sinister; it served to help her forget her last encounter with him and it gave her time to think of sarcastic one-liners to bombard him with. A few hours had passed and she focused on her broken hopes that there'd be some sort of bench or bed like in prison movies, but then she remembered wishing to put an end to waking up in strange beds- perhaps this was the answer to her prayers.
              Now she had time to lose her sense of humor and calm and fell into sadder things like regret, guilt, and "what-ifs". The regret had been for ever meeting Kurt and not successfully evading him. The guilt was only assigned to Logan and the "what-ifs" preceded moments before she met Kurt, before she turned the corner that night in the rain. Before Kurt had ruined what little of her life she cared to live, she had been proposed to and promptly said "no." She walked out on the only man who loved her, left him at an Italian Restaurant and promised she'd be right back, but she never intended on seeking him again. Now the "what-ifs" turned to "should-haves" and before she recognized the transition, she had fooled herself into thinking that saying 'yes' would have meant she'd have been happier now. She should have been planning a wedding... she sighed, "I'd only be planning a funeral straight after."
“White-cell count has exceeded parameters, visceral deterioration process in progress.” The device had sounded louder in the small cell and had managed to echo off walls repeatedly. Kate went on alert thinking that her kind host would show soon after the announcement, but time passed on and she continued in a constant state of waiting. She went back to her “should-have’s” list and had wondered how it would have all played out if she’d been nicer to Kurt. What if she didn’t try running out all the time- what if she appreciated him for what he was trying to do? She shook her head, “Sounds like Stockholm Syndrome,” she chided herself. She closed her eyes and tried to remember her former beloved's face; his dark brown hair, his brown eyes, his jawline– but the more detail she tried to remember the more he ended up looking like Kurt, "I'd have to stake him through the heart." She heard herself say the words aloud and despite her best effort to fight sadness with sarcasm, she began to cry and all the woeful sounds that came with it, followed. Plenty of perfectly good options to avoid being here, she’d passed up. And what for? For the sake of getting in the last word? For all the good it had done her. “God, we don’t talk…. Because you’re not real and all… but if I get out of this, I’ll stop being a bitch.” She had said this looking up at the light and realized instantly how ridiculous it seemed.
              As if on cue, the door opened upwards and it was none other than Sinister and someone else who she only caught the silhouette of, but was definitely a man, “I have no intention on killing you.” He started. It was seemingly a random thing to declare and it had taken her a few seconds to process that he was answering her plea to survive the ordeal- taking the place of god. She stood up immediately, pressing her body tightly to the wall.
“Somehow, it doesn’t feel quite as comforting coming from you.” She spat at his face.
His expression didn’t budge and he settled for wiping it with the back of his hand. “Charming.” He kept still and silent as he watched her unfold infront of him; visibly shaking the longer he stood in the doorway. When his need to feel superior had felt satisfied, he dismissed his escort and came closer, “I see you’re dying--again.”
“Yeah and what of it?” She was kicking herself mentally for being so confrontational.
“I had hoped my gift would have eased you burden.”
“Unless there’s a self-destruct, it isn’t easing shit.”
He smirked; a small wrinkle in the ironed out perfection of his face, “I didn’t think it needed one… you’re attached to it, after all.” He stood centered in the room and continued “But if you want to self-destruct, I guess I have good news for you.”
She didn’t want to ask because she knew she was going to hate the answer, but her mouth moved faster than her brain, “Like what?”
He seemed pleased as punch that she had asked, “System?”
“System acknowledges.”
“Deactivate all current protocols and retract from subject.”
              She went to walk, using the wall as leverage, but before she could place a foot forward the device replied, “System acknowledges; retraction in progress.” The sensation that followed started off as feeling cold; a burning numbness came over her body and brought her back to her knees. She could feel the pressure of the fibers retracting and the pain of every nerve firing off as it had let go. She screamed and let herself fall forward on her face, “What are—,” was all she could get out.
Though the look of amusement didn’t change, it became more… well, sinister, “It’s what you’ve been asking for." Her body sprawled out on the floor and she desperately made an attempt to grab his ankle right as he stepped out of her reach.
“You promised.” A familiar voice pleaded from the doorway. Sinister had turned his attention from her for a moment and it was enough so she could grow a spine and look to see what was going on between the waves of pain. Still writhing on the floor, she looked up and found a very concerned Kurt in the doorway debating whether or not to go to her. His expression changed as he passed Sinister and became softer as he tried to fight any signs of worry.
“You?” she was surprised, but as the final strands retracted at that moment, her curiosity had been replaced with a yelp.
"Ja, mich. Wer sonst könnte abziehen Tragen dieser Aufmachung?" The meaning was lost on both parties, but Kate had guessed it had been something he'd be smacked for.
The device chirped, “System deactivating,” and detached itself. Kurt dropped the act and cautiously grabbed the device that had fallen in the back of her shirt and and passed it to Sinister.
“Just as I promised.” Sinister smiled and opened his palm to receive the device.
Kate all the meanwhile, though in pain, could not hold in the anger and confusion, “What the fuck?” It perhaps wasn’t the most well-formed thought, but it accurately expressed how she felt.
“I.," he paused as Kate's facial expression changed from anger to worry, "Leibchen," Kurt started and looked down at his hands, “Sinister is letting you go.”
That would make sense, he did remove the device…. But… “Why?”
“He said if I came on my own accord, he'd let you leave. This is my fault,” he tried to put on a smile but it seemed sadder than a frown, “and it's my sworn duty to rescue the damsels in distress.” He grinned carelessly, as if the two had been safe at home and there was noone else around. He offered a hand to help her up and she took it quietly; still unsure of how events were going to unfold, until she got to the door and Kurt stopped short of it, "du handeln, als ob es eine Kraft, die mich von dir halten können"
Again, it was lost on her, but it didn't feel like he was saying goodbye... so was he coming with her? “So we can just…” she pointed to the door, “go?”
“You can go, Ms. Leander.” Sinister corrected her and placed a hand on Kurt’s shoulder, “Kurt will be taking your place.”
“No.” Kate shot back instinctively. Kurt was momentarily taken aback, but let go of her hand and steered her towards the door. She looked back at him for a second before fixating her eyes on the corridor. “You can’t just stay here.” She retorted and spun her body around.
              Sinister’s expression never dithered, “This gentleman will escort you out,” he motioned to a red haired man, not much older than she was; with what she regarded to be eyes stranger than Kurt’s, “it’s been a pleasure.” The man placed an arm around her and led her out, ignoring the minor resistance, “Trust me, it’s a good thing.” He had said with a strange accent.
             After being led through what was a pretty standard bad-guy lair, she found herself on a busy street and when she had looked back, the building was a tall, ordinary office building. She took a step away from the building before a pang of guilt struck her yet again. How could Kurt have just sacrificed himself like that and more importantly; why couldn't he had said 'good-bye' in English? She’d given him no reason to think she’d have done the same—but he had done it so willingly, like he was a gallant knight and it was an honor to take her place. She tried taking another step and it was more than guilt that weighed her down this time-- her body was weak; she was still dying. Didn’t Kurt ever consider she would die without h—she stopped herself from thinking any further on it, she didn’t have feelings for him, she didn’t care. He was a monster, a stupid one at that… but she needed him if she wanted to see tomorrow. “I guess I can’t leave him to the wolves.” She sighed and looked back at the building, she knew she couldn’t get back in there, and even if she did, what would she do?
             She had found someone to kindly give her a lift to the nearest pay-phone which she had found to be surprisingly difficult to find. But she had found one outside of a bank about a half an hour away from where Kurt was and it was better than nothing. She figured she’d give them a heads up, they’d save the fuzz ball and she could rid herself of the annoyance of guilt. She picked up the phone and dialed collect. When the operator had begun to speak a hand from behind her dramatically crashed down on the hook-switch. She gasped for a moment and spun around to find the ghost of Logan looming over her shoulder. “Holy shit.” He smirked and grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her away.
              They ended up in a small coffee shop down the street and Kate had made it a point to keep an eye on the phone—she’d need it to call the police when Logan decided to dismember her for what she was sure qualified as “screwing with things.” She breathed in shallowly but hard, making the signs of her distress audible. “Ok, kid, I get it, you’re loud when you’re quiet.”
“Just get it over with.”
“Get what?”
“The arms, legs, head. Look, I know you—”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Logan gripped the coffee cup in front of him tightly.
“This is like some grudge thing, that’s why you’re back.”
The cup in his palms formed a crack laterally, “Back? I didn’t go anywhere.”
She pointed to her neck, “The laser?” and then gasped in shock, “Oh my god. You don’t know your dead?”
Logan grunted or laughed, depending on how you look at it, “I don’t die that easily.”
“You don’t?” She took in a deep breathe, “So, you’re not here for revenge… are you here for Kurt?”
“Do you think I just come here for the coffee?” He let go of the mug and coffee started to bead out of the top of the crack.
She picked up her hand to touch the crack in his cup but upon seeing her own hand shake she retreated to her side; a reminder that if Logan didn’t kill her, her own immune system would.
Logan tried to be nonchalant about it, “Is that the-“
“Yep, I’m dying…again.” She found his manner to be comforting; it allowed her to distance herself from her own mortality.
“How long you got left?” he reached for his wallet and threw a five on the table.
“I don’t know. I teleported a lot not too long ago… I feel like I’m…” reality crept back, “dying.” She’d felt like shit before, but it hadn’t ever gone on this long. “I guess it was bound to happen.” an attempt to mirror Logan’s indifference. He helped her up out of the booth she’d been sitting in across from him and they made their way out and back down the street.
“Are we going after Kurt?” She inquired as he made his way behind a clock shop.
“We?” He disappeared around the corner and she followed close behind. “The team will be here shortly.” He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her to the back up the building and gave her a firm shove up against the wall. She winced for a moment and closed her eyes, perhaps dismemberment was close at hand?
“You’re going to kill me here?” Disbelief had set in and almost came off as entitlement.
“Kill you?” Logan leaned closely to her face and breathed deeply, “It's my turn to save you.”
Maybe it was because she was dying that it took her an abnormally large amount of time to catch onto things she’d been quick to before, but she blankly stared at him for a moment too long before it came to her—he was going to fuck her. “It won’t work!” She put her hands up.
“Trust me.” He kissed her neck and stretched the neck of her shirt until it ripped along the seam. His other hand had worked to unfasten the top button of his jeans.
She lifted her chin, the only effort she could make to get away from him, “Beast said..." Panic filled her mind and she had trouble thinking of something to say that would make him stop "Yours is going to kill me.”
He stopped for a moment and pulled away to look, “You’ll absorb my healing factor,” and then mumbled, “maybe.”
              Upon realizing she couldn’t deter him, she wriggled in his grip and decided she’d get away using her non-verbal skills. He plunged his face into her breasts which had become exposed through the ripped neck-hole and left her hands by her side. It was unclear to even herself why she didn't move her hands to push him off, but he had taken it as consent. "Please." She cried out.
He looked up at her, and undid the zipper of his jeans without ever looking down. She stared back, panting, also without a need to look down to know what he was doing. He slipped his length out of his pants and let it throb against her stomach, "Please, what?" He reached under her knees and pulled her up; each of his hands under a bent knee. The motion had lifted her up, positioning in the right spot for him to thrust into.
"Please." Her face had turned red and she was choking back tears.
He eased her down and pressed himself against her pants, his jaw remained clenched shut and he watched her reactions to him.
"Kurt!!!" She yelled out and sobbed. "Oh god, what have I done?"
             Logan stopped as quickly as he started and let her slide down the wall into a sobbing puddle on the ground. “You know he can’t hear you, right?” He zipped his pants up single-handedly. She didn't respond, she couldn't. She didn't want to get fucked by Logan and she had regretted losing the only person whom would have kept it from happening.
He knelt down next to her and lifted her head in the palm of his hand, “If you’re going to cry about it,” He picked her up and flung her over his shoulder. “then maybe you shouldn't act like you don’t want any part of him-- otherwise I have dibs.” He continued his way behind the building and it had turned out to be where he stashed his bike, “Dibs?" she questioned, finding it hard to believe that a line of men formed at the chance of fucking her. He slid her off of his shoulder onto the bike and positioned her in front of him, “I can’t wait to see that elf’s face when he hears you're sentimental.” He started the bike and she tucked her head on his shoulder, “Don’t,” she warned before her face smacked into his collar bone when inertia instantaneously set in as the bike took off.
             As he sped off the sidewalk into the street and she managed to have her wits knocked about, she had half wondered if Logan was really going to take her up against the building and her crying had been similar to the bitching and moaning he had said he couldn't stand. Or, she pondered as her eyes narrowed with contemplation, if it'd been some sort of trick to prove Kurt had meant something to her. well, there wasn't a need to prove anything... Kurt had mean something... he was her means of survival and until a different method of making it day to day became available, she had to invest in his well being... or general availability. Logan's body tensed and a low growl crept out as she smiled inwardly at the thought of deceit... it had almost felt in response to it... but Logan couldn't read minds... right? She looked up at him questioningly, was there more to Logan than just a meat head with metal claws? He stayed tense and didn't take his eyes off the road, "You're easy to read." he spoke out levelly, the remark barely loud enough to counter the bike and the wind whipping passed them.
"Huh?" she was now absolutely sure he was telepathic too.
"Hmm." he sounded offended, "You're not as cold as you think." She relaxed her head into his chest again, who was he trying to convince?
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Forever Yours: Whether I Like It or Not...