I type too much [Drabble] [x-men]
Title: Untitled
Summary: Kurt muses while on his shift.
Pairing: None
Rating: PG
Warnings: Angst and stuff.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Notes: Just a quick drabble I made. Very quick. Very Au. Mutants vs. Humans. Reply to an Rp,but I liked it so I posted it. Kinda sad.
The pitterpatter of the rain against the rooftop of the open building that they were currently watching from distracted Kurt from his watch. Late. It was late, he figured, looking up at the sky. Dark. Wet. Oh so wet. A sigh escaped Kurt Wagner's lips as he shifted closer to the wall. He'd get under the rain no matter where he stood outside today (...except under a roof, but really). The rooftop that they were standing on had slightly low sides that went up, if he guestimated (guessed because he was bored) somewhere around his stomach, and Kurt felt terribly wet with the rain against his fur. He felt so soggy. And it was terrible. Wet and gross and...Sigh.
He looked around and surveyed the ground. Kurt saw a mop of wet blonde hair and...associated it with Sam Guthrie. He came to know a lot of people recently, with this whole...fight going on. And maybe it would've been better if he didn't associate the names with faces, because...because then he wouldn't cry. It'd just be better off, when you found someone dead. Right? ...Of course. He felt a strange tug at his stomach. It was probably the rain...right? The rain. Too wet. Yech.
He was tired of this, tired of the fighting and...he hadn't even wanted to do it. No, Kurt thought that it was all rather pointless, but they had been pulled into the fighting. Nearly all mutants had. Stupid...Stupid arrogance.
Kurt dragged his attention back towards Sam, slightly worried. He only knew the blonde hair (from the rooftop) as Sam, because the clearly male next to him was one Jay Guthrie, with soaking wet red wings. A tug of sympathy for the boy, for Sam. He pulled his gaze away from the brothers before they could start fighting. Again. But he knew the course of events.
It'd all started out as fighting, and hadn't progressed to this far until recently. This far it was bad, and it was getting steadily worse each time. He heard Sam scream(or something relative to a scream) and he was probably crying. Trying to knock some sense into Jay. Jay, who was fluttering his useless sopping wings and yelling back at Sam, because it was POINTLESS and he didn't want to DO this--he didn't want to FIGHT anymore! Jay was DONE with it. Done, done, finite, fin, finished. Done. Gone. God fuck it all.
He swallowed, hearing a "It just doesn't MATTER anymore, Sam! We're ALL going to die soon enough!" And as much as Kurt wanted to be away from the scene, wanted to get away from it all, not realize it... Not think of it, it just came back to him. Sam was probably telling Jay how much he loved him, how much they loved him, and yes, it did matter, and no, they weren't going to die so he couldn't kill himself. couldn't...run out there and...get shot with the cure. And then shot. With something else.
He shuddered. Jay was struggling away from Sam's tight grip. Someone would come (last time it had been Bobby, who had knocked Jay out, but last week--and had it only been such a short time? it felt like ages--Jay had been to the point of freaking out. Much worse than he was this time) and would calm Jay down. Somehow. The fits, the fighting between the two boys just went up and grew snappier and more frequent as the time went on. As they fought more battles. As Sam had to stay back for fear of Jay flying out when he wasn't there. As everyone worried, the tension grew and it just got worse.
He really shouldn't be watching this, really shouldn't be thinking. It was personal. But...He gave a slight sniffle. Kurt hated this. Hated the fact that something like this would tear brothers that had been so close apart. And people died...People didn't...shouldn't die.
They should all be happy together. Happy. Hah. Like that was going to happen. Someone was, assuredly, going to die.
And as guilty as he was for thinking it, he'd rather it not be the mutants. ...Humans were too prejudiced anyway. And besides, God had taught them all to love each other. Be kind to your friends, and kinder to your enemies. Or...something. Faith was what brought him here, yet he found it getting harder and harder to keep to it when he wanted to give up sometimes. It was just...too tempting.
He finally tore his mind away from the scene--really this time. Kurt had changed; 'Nightcrawler' mused as he glanced at the Quebecois who was standing watch up here beside him. Jean-Paul Beaubier, much more sharp and his features 'rougher' than before. Yet a tired, a haunted look was on his face, as they had so become accustomed to, those of them that fought. Even the humans, with their hatred, had begun to get it. And Kurt really didn't look, and all this musing was slly but...
He bet Jean-Paul was thinking of running. Running, at his top speeds, as far as he could. Breaking his top speeds, just to get away from it all...But the speedster's thoughts were shattered, his wistful thinking, as a particularly thick raindrop hit him right on the nose.
Cool blue eyes surveyed the scene before him, and Jean-Paul only gave a slight shake of his head. Disappointment, maybe? "Poor boy." He muttered quietly, and Kurt just smiled slightly and gave a bit of a nod (it was hard to show a true smile these days) ignoring the fact that Jean-Paul hadn't specified which boy. Maybe it was both.
Kurt turned, running his tongue over his lips absently. He looked back down t the ground, seeing the green-skinned Anole pull Jay off tiredly. Sam had hands over his nose. Bloody, maybe it'd gotten punched. Probably broken, he guessed. If he knew anything about battles. When cure wasn't so affecting, and guns were shattered, people resorted to hands and fists. Bobby was taking care of Sam's nose now, rushing him off to be better prepared if a fight was to occur. Or...
something.
God. He didn't care anymore. Kurt swallowed and...wished he could abandon his post. Not yet. Almost. Not yet. He'd have to go check on the few people that he was close to... Slightly close. Sigh. Right after his shift was over. And please, Gott, let that be soon.
Summary: Kurt muses while on his shift.
Pairing: None
Rating: PG
Warnings: Angst and stuff.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Notes: Just a quick drabble I made. Very quick. Very Au. Mutants vs. Humans. Reply to an Rp,but I liked it so I posted it. Kinda sad.
The pitterpatter of the rain against the rooftop of the open building that they were currently watching from distracted Kurt from his watch. Late. It was late, he figured, looking up at the sky. Dark. Wet. Oh so wet. A sigh escaped Kurt Wagner's lips as he shifted closer to the wall. He'd get under the rain no matter where he stood outside today (...except under a roof, but really). The rooftop that they were standing on had slightly low sides that went up, if he guestimated (guessed because he was bored) somewhere around his stomach, and Kurt felt terribly wet with the rain against his fur. He felt so soggy. And it was terrible. Wet and gross and...Sigh.
He looked around and surveyed the ground. Kurt saw a mop of wet blonde hair and...associated it with Sam Guthrie. He came to know a lot of people recently, with this whole...fight going on. And maybe it would've been better if he didn't associate the names with faces, because...because then he wouldn't cry. It'd just be better off, when you found someone dead. Right? ...Of course. He felt a strange tug at his stomach. It was probably the rain...right? The rain. Too wet. Yech.
He was tired of this, tired of the fighting and...he hadn't even wanted to do it. No, Kurt thought that it was all rather pointless, but they had been pulled into the fighting. Nearly all mutants had. Stupid...Stupid arrogance.
Kurt dragged his attention back towards Sam, slightly worried. He only knew the blonde hair (from the rooftop) as Sam, because the clearly male next to him was one Jay Guthrie, with soaking wet red wings. A tug of sympathy for the boy, for Sam. He pulled his gaze away from the brothers before they could start fighting. Again. But he knew the course of events.
It'd all started out as fighting, and hadn't progressed to this far until recently. This far it was bad, and it was getting steadily worse each time. He heard Sam scream(or something relative to a scream) and he was probably crying. Trying to knock some sense into Jay. Jay, who was fluttering his useless sopping wings and yelling back at Sam, because it was POINTLESS and he didn't want to DO this--he didn't want to FIGHT anymore! Jay was DONE with it. Done, done, finite, fin, finished. Done. Gone. God fuck it all.
He swallowed, hearing a "It just doesn't MATTER anymore, Sam! We're ALL going to die soon enough!" And as much as Kurt wanted to be away from the scene, wanted to get away from it all, not realize it... Not think of it, it just came back to him. Sam was probably telling Jay how much he loved him, how much they loved him, and yes, it did matter, and no, they weren't going to die so he couldn't kill himself. couldn't...run out there and...get shot with the cure. And then shot. With something else.
He shuddered. Jay was struggling away from Sam's tight grip. Someone would come (last time it had been Bobby, who had knocked Jay out, but last week--and had it only been such a short time? it felt like ages--Jay had been to the point of freaking out. Much worse than he was this time) and would calm Jay down. Somehow. The fits, the fighting between the two boys just went up and grew snappier and more frequent as the time went on. As they fought more battles. As Sam had to stay back for fear of Jay flying out when he wasn't there. As everyone worried, the tension grew and it just got worse.
He really shouldn't be watching this, really shouldn't be thinking. It was personal. But...He gave a slight sniffle. Kurt hated this. Hated the fact that something like this would tear brothers that had been so close apart. And people died...People didn't...shouldn't die.
They should all be happy together. Happy. Hah. Like that was going to happen. Someone was, assuredly, going to die.
And as guilty as he was for thinking it, he'd rather it not be the mutants. ...Humans were too prejudiced anyway. And besides, God had taught them all to love each other. Be kind to your friends, and kinder to your enemies. Or...something. Faith was what brought him here, yet he found it getting harder and harder to keep to it when he wanted to give up sometimes. It was just...too tempting.
He finally tore his mind away from the scene--really this time. Kurt had changed; 'Nightcrawler' mused as he glanced at the Quebecois who was standing watch up here beside him. Jean-Paul Beaubier, much more sharp and his features 'rougher' than before. Yet a tired, a haunted look was on his face, as they had so become accustomed to, those of them that fought. Even the humans, with their hatred, had begun to get it. And Kurt really didn't look, and all this musing was slly but...
He bet Jean-Paul was thinking of running. Running, at his top speeds, as far as he could. Breaking his top speeds, just to get away from it all...But the speedster's thoughts were shattered, his wistful thinking, as a particularly thick raindrop hit him right on the nose.
Cool blue eyes surveyed the scene before him, and Jean-Paul only gave a slight shake of his head. Disappointment, maybe? "Poor boy." He muttered quietly, and Kurt just smiled slightly and gave a bit of a nod (it was hard to show a true smile these days) ignoring the fact that Jean-Paul hadn't specified which boy. Maybe it was both.
Kurt turned, running his tongue over his lips absently. He looked back down t the ground, seeing the green-skinned Anole pull Jay off tiredly. Sam had hands over his nose. Bloody, maybe it'd gotten punched. Probably broken, he guessed. If he knew anything about battles. When cure wasn't so affecting, and guns were shattered, people resorted to hands and fists. Bobby was taking care of Sam's nose now, rushing him off to be better prepared if a fight was to occur. Or...
something.
God. He didn't care anymore. Kurt swallowed and...wished he could abandon his post. Not yet. Almost. Not yet. He'd have to go check on the few people that he was close to... Slightly close. Sigh. Right after his shift was over. And please, Gott, let that be soon.