Here Without You
Summary: It's the anniversary of Kitty's death, and Kurt can't help but reflect on their relationship and feel lonely. Takes place about ten years after X-men Evolution, so Kurt's only 25ish. Rated T for adult themes, drinking and sexual references.
Note: I based this on a short story I wrote a long time ago about a man reminiscing on his dead wife. Very similar thing going here. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: I don't own X-men Evolution.
The sun was setting on the horizon. From his balcony, Kurt could see the sky colors slowly mute out against the growing darkness. The jagged city horizon softened and blurred until he could barely make out the edges of buildings. A few stars began to dot the blue-black sky. Below him, street lights and car headlights lit the streets like a winding, glowing maze. The soft lights below and the gentle darkness above complimented each other nicely. Kurt sighed. He didn't see a beautiful, glowing city and starry sky—only darkness.
Kurt looked away from the window and trudged over to his bed. He sat on the edge and sighed again. His tail swished back and forth sadly. Gott, has it only been one year? He thought to himself.
It seemed like so much longer to him. Years. Decades. But it had only been one year. One year ago, on this day, it had happened. The accident. Kurt didn't even want to think about it. A shudder racked his slender body and he hugged his knees to his chest. It was comforting to him. One year ago, she had died, and he missed her so badly that he still felt empty inside. He had a deep hole in his chest that never managed to close all the way. Today, it felt open and fresh, like it had many months ago.
Down below in the main part of the mansion, there was a small party going on. Today was just a few days before Christmas, so the students were having a Christmas party. Even though they were inconveniently having it on such a sad day, Kurt couldn't blame them. Most of the students were young, new. Some of them had never met her. Some had. They seemed to have forgotten. Only the older students—Rouge, Scott, Jean, and Evan—had said hello to Kurt and gave him a few minutes of comfort. Rouge and Evan seemed genuinely upset themselves. After all, they had been her friends. They'd known her well. But no one knew her as well as Kurt had. They'd been together. Friends, lovers, playmates, children, and adults all in one. God, Kurt missed her so much.
Despite his pain, he felt the strange urge to leave his room. He felt so sad and alone there. He wanted to be around other people. At least it might take his mind off things. So, slowly, he crawled off his bed and made his way downstairs.
The party was in the living room-converted-dance floor. There were students everywhere dancing, talking, sitting down, laughing….Even the Professor and Hank were chatting in the corner. Kurt smiled a tiny bit, especially after several students came around and gave him hugs or said hello. Rouge had been huddled in one corner. She came over and wrapped her arms around his chest, since his neck was too high for her arms to reach.
"Hey, little brothah," she said in her unmistakable Southern accent. Her voice sounded wistful, pensive. She smiled a bit at the edge of her mouth.
"Hey," Kurt muttered, looking down to look into her eyes. His eyes were timelessly old, as if he'd seen a hundred wars. They were still young looking, but at the same time, they were endlessly deep and lonely. Rouge found them impossible to look away from.
"Glad you could come down fah a minute," she said. "Everyone's in a nice, cordial mood around here. It's kinda comforting, really. And I'm not even a big fan of parties."
Kurt nodded. "Ja."
Rouge untangled herself from Kurt's arms. "Well, try to have a good time, Crawler. I know its rough, but…you kinda gotta go with things." She turned away, but quickly glanced back and smiled playfully. "And fah God's sake don't get yahself drunk." Kurt nodded again, cracking a tiny smile at this. He'd been pretty bad at dealing with his sorrows after…anyways, so he'd taken to drinking. A few talks from Wolverine about being an obsessive drinker stopped him before things went too far, luckily.
Rouge drifted off into the sea of bodies and Kurt retreated to the wall. He observed everyone silently, enjoying the warm atmosphere of the room but comfortable with the distance between himself and everyone else. He liked standing around and watching people. It was safe, easy.
He noticed Bobby flirting with all the ladies, of course. Evan was talking with Storm, and they were having a good laugh. Rouge had flitted over to the far corner to talk with a Goth-looking student. In the middle of the room, people were dancing to the soft music. Kurt scanned the moving crowd, finally focusing on a young couple. The two students were maybe 16 or 17. The young man was Jamie, someone Kurt had known for a few years. The girl he danced with was pretty new. She was beautiful and striking. Her face was very soft and heart shaped. She had a cascading waterfall of cornsilk blonde hair and in the center of her face, two wide, clear blue eyes. Blue eyes. It made him remember.
Jamie and his partner twirled around and Jamie dipped the girl down before pulling her back up to a standing position. A memory: Kurt was in his room, dancing with a beautiful young woman. Her hair was long and chocolatey. She had a soft, gentle smile and intense eyes-blue eyes. He danced with her. Dipped her down until her arm brushed the carpet. He lifted her back up and she nuzzled him.
Jamie and his partner slowed down a bit as the music changed. The girl rested her head on the Jamie's shoulder. Kurt was now in the girl's room. Her room. They were slow dancing to Roberta Flack. The blue-eyed young woman sighed contentedly and put the dip of her neck on Kurt's shoulder. Her breathing was slow, her face was warm. Her body was warm against his. Then, a thousand memories—all in once second—flashed through his mind. Singing with her. Lying in bed with her, one arm around her slight frame. Kissing her again and again. The feel of her hands against his chest. The feel of her lips against his. Seeing those intense, intelligent eyes every day for years. Hearing that voice call his name, talk to him. She loved him, and she told him every day. She held his hand every night when they went to sleep.
Kurt blinked. He was still standing against the wall by the door. His hand was closed around an invisible hand that no longer existed. His hand tightened into a fist and then released. Nothing, only air. The emptiness in his chest opened up again. It was like his hand—empty with nothing to put in it.
Kurt went upstairs to his room. His hands trembled to open the door. He felt so very alone. More alone than he had in a long time. On his way into his bed, he passed a picture that stood on the bedside table. He was sitting beside her under a tree. She was reading and he was looking over her shoulder and nuzzling her on the cheek. He looked closer at the picture. She was as beautiful as he remembered. Her hair was thick and warm and her face was ivory pale and very soft. Those beautiful eyes weren't looking at him, but they were looking up from her book to see the younger him—the happier him.
In the picture, he looked so peaceful. A smile played at the corner of his mouth. His eyes sparkled. God, he knew he didn't look like that anymore. He felt old, worn, faded. He'd faded with her.
Kurt went on his way. He felt tired, so he crawled into bed, miserable and agitated. His mind wandered back to her—the young woman with striking blue eyes. Kitty. He couldn't concentrate much less sleep, but finally he sunk into a half-peaceful state. In his unconscious mind, the memories played over and over. Kitty dancing with him. Kitty laughing. The two of them dancing again. His mind kept coming back to dancing, and when Kurt woke up the next morning, all he could feel the warmth of his lost love. The feel of her head resting on his shoulder.
I hope it wasn't too mushy or anything. I tried to capture their relationship in a wistful way. Review if you loved it. :D
-The Ember Raven