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The quiet hum of the lights in MedBay have become a nearly constant buzz for its occupants — a kind of white noise that would irritate if people truly paid it any attention. But then MedBay is one of those places where such things are small compared to the reasons why people find themselves in this space.
Or the occupants aren't well enough to even take notice.
It's been over twenty-four hours, and Kitty Pryde has been kept still and resting for the bulk of it. She's drifted in and out of consciousness over the time she's been here, and rather irritably, tried to leave twice only to lay back down thanks to the throbbing pain in her head. Of course, such leaves were amid relative delirium and confusion and babbling. The last had something to do with peanut butter — prompting even stranger looks than the one that obsessed over Central Park.
Currently, she's laying on her assigned bed, eyes closed, hooked up to an IV for fluids. Her eyelids flicker, a surefire warning sign that she may be waking up again. What she wakes up like is anyone's guess.
*
With the exception of one brief trip into the city to clear his head, Piotr has been here. He knew the importance of getting a concussion properly treated, but he also knew how little Kitty needed to be in the medbay again. Physically, yes. Emotionally? No. And so, he has stayed.
Even now, the massive Russian is sitting down at her bedside, covering Kitty's hand with one of his own. If she should wake up, he wants her to know she isn't alone. In his free hand is — no surprise — a file, and he reads it with a great deal of fatigue lining his face.
*
Despite the blue magics healing her, Illyana's /other/ doctors were more than a little leery of 'Strange fixed me with magic' as an explanation as to how her gunshot wounds went from 'hours old' to 'weeks old' in the space of an afternoon. So, another round of testing and examinations, wherein nothing more useful than 'they're healing normally, if quickly' would be announced.
Sure, it had been kinda grody for a minute there when her black magic had failed her and started leaking blood everywhere, but hey— she's alive. Poking her ribs experimentally, like a child with a wound, she steps into the infirmary on her bare and dirty feet and moves to Kitty's bed.
She spots the woman on the edge of waking up, and the fact that Piotr's holding her hand, and shakes Kitty's toes once in passing.
"Cat, wake up," she tells the brunette, climbing onto the foot of the bed without waiting for an invitaton and sitting on the sheets cross-legged. "Piotr won't come upstairs until you're awake and I need help moving something heavy."
*
A loud, very irritated groan, emits from the back of Kitty's throat, and Piotr can feel the movement of Kitty's hand as she begins to come to. Her eyes flutter open only to immediately squeeze shut hard at the intrusive entrance of light. Her face scrunches like it'd been pinched and she presses her free hand to her forehead as hard as she can manage. For a moment, it looks like she's about to bail through the floor again, but hesitation writes over her features and she gives the hand on hers a sharp squeeze before turning her head to catchPiotr and Illyana in turn.
Colour creeps over her cheeks and her hand keeps pressing to her forehead before she turns to see the IV she's hooked up to. Her expression deadens. "N-n-no. I need.. I need to go — "
*
Looking up from his reading, Piotr offers his sister a small, tired smile. He doesn't even have time to offer a greeting, though, before Illyana is climbing up onto the bed, and he finds himself sitting up straighter. "<Carefully, Snowflake. She needs to rest,>" he says with a slight wince.
Of course, it does appear to have woken Kitty up. Piotr's attention is immediately on her, the file in his lap abandoned as he reaches over to hold her hand between both of his. "Katya. We are at the Institute. You hit your head," he says gently, keeping his voice quiet. Concussions are… unfun. "You are safe, I promise. Illyana and I are here."
*
"You keep hitting your head. Should stop doing that," Illyana points out, helpfully. "Is bad for your brains. Makes them soft." She leans forward, planting her hand next to Kitty's hip for support, and staaaares at the brunette with a curious expression.
"I know she needs rest, but I am bored and you are bored, so— maybe she wakes up for a bit, and then everyone's happy," Illyana shrugs at Piotr. She looks back at Kitty. "The doctor said you have a concussion. I had to ask what this means— they said you bruised your brain. Moving too fast or too much will make your brain bleed."
She frowns at Piotr, trying to work the words out. "Cere— creebal hammerhead," she says, mangling it badly. "Yes— you get hammerhead and then— dead." She makes a noise that sounds like *blorctch* and flicks fingers against her temple.
"How are you feeling otherwise?" she asks, beaming at Kitty and switching tracks rather abruptly.
*
Blinking hard, Kitty seems to process what Piotr says and then skeptically arches her eyebrows back at Illyana. "I… what happened?" She squints as her eyes flit between the Rasputins, not quite clear on how she ended up here or the events around her head injury. She nods slightly at Illyana, "Haemorrhage," she corrects. "It's like a bleed. When you get hit or fall you rattle…" her head shakes, no she will explain concussions to Illyana another time. When she doesn't have one.
"I'm… I'm okay," her eyes flit between the Rasputins one more time and her mind begins to work through what she can remember. "I went to Macy's for a package. I…" she squints. "I remember seeing Patsy(?)," she shrugs supposing this is part of the concussion. And then her eyes widen only to clamp shut seconds later. After a single beat, she's tugging her hand away from Piotr's much larger ones to yank the IV out of her arm, "Well…" Her face turns beet red. "I need to go — things to work on places to go — " holes to go die in.
*
Alas, Piotr is not letting that hand go. There isn't much he can do if Kitty decides to simply phase her hand free from his grip, but otherwise, he maintains a grip that is somehow both gentle and unyielding. "Katya, please, you will hurt yourself," he rumbles, his expression pained. He wants to let her just yank the damned thing out and leave the medbay. "Everything is alright."
He glances briefly to Illyana, perhaps worried about how likely it is that she'll decide Kitty's idea to depart is Absolutely Correct. "The perfume lady," he tells Kitty, looking to her again. "She surprised you and you sneezed. Right through the floor. It was long drop. Lorna and Miss Walker helped make sure you were okay."
*
"Sneezed? Through floor?" Illy cocks a brow at Piotr and Kitty, then clucks her tongue at her friend. She doesn't make any effort to stop Kitty from removing the IVs, clearly not knowing what they're for, but she does scoot up and plant her butt firmly on Kitty's thighs, scowling down at the brunette.
"Doctor said, you phase again, your concurshion will make you bleed badly. No phasing until better. So sit," she says, resting her index finger against Kitty's brow, pointedly. "Stay. I will bring cookies if you rest and heal," she offers, diplomatically. "But must get better first."
*
Kitty tugs her hand again. Her face and neck both hue that same brilliant red, made all the brighter at the discussion of the perfume lady. The vague memory of falling through the floor does seem to have happened, indicating that whatever else she remembers happening is lightly true. She covers her face with her free arm, murmuring quietly. "Oh god, oh god, oh god I was so awful…. " she starts, her eyes widening again, "I need to go. I really need to go — " Her tongue rolls over her lips as she stares at the door longingly. Not that she needs a door.
And just as she's considering bailing using a route she's all too familiar with, Illyana instructs her not to phase. Deflated, she just slumps back against the bed unhappily mortified at the status of her brain. "I just… I just need… " her stomach lurches and she peers haphazardly from behind the arm serving as her only source of protection from the outside world. "I… I'm so sorry," she mumbles.
*
Piotr gives his sister a slightly odd sidelong look, but he doesn't say anything. That was most definitely a fib. But the fib also appears to be preventing Kitty from hurting herself.
Oh, she is going to be a bad influence on him.
"No, no, Katya, you were fine," Piotr says quickly, his lips quirking into an odd smile. One of his hands releases hers in favor of brushing some hair away from her face with his fingertips, his other hand staying put to give her fingers a reassuring squeeze. He hesitates a moment, eyes again glancing to Illyana. How to phrase it.
"…you said nothing that I did not want to hear," is what Piotr settles on, leaning over to try and get a peek at Kitty's face hidden behind her arm. "Truly. You have nothing to apologize for. Would you like me to go back for you?" he asks gently. "We forgot your package."
*
Illyana quietly slips out on padded feet, pausing at the door- just enough to smile over her shoulder at the sight of her brother and Kitty. Then she's gone.
*
The fingertips at her face earn a flicker of a sheepish smile, complete with that same hot blush across her cheeks. With Yana off to get cookies, Kitty finally lowers her arm from her face. "I… wasn't nice," she finally states with a heavy sigh. "Oh my gosh, I… I just wouldn't stop talking." She stares at Piotr as her lips quirk downwards. "I didn't mean — I mean, I didn't think about — I was trying to explain — I — " her eyes tick to the side, all too aware that once again, for someone supposedly invincible, she's put herself in a position of utter vulnerability. Her lips clamp shut.
"Sorry," she murmurs again. "I'm not explaining it right." She swallows hard and closes her eyes. "I just can't believe I said what I said even if it wasn't a lie and I completely meant it. All of it." And there was a lot. "Even the bit about the Michelangelo carving." Pause. "Poor Lorna!" she winces.
*
"Katya. It is alright," Piotr repeats in a gentle insistant voice, still wearing that same slightly quirky smile on his face. "I do not think any of us are going to hold you to anything you said while, you know… concussed." His fingers tuck a few strands of hair behind Kitty's ear before his hand withdraws. "Even the things that were true."
*
A fond smile edges the corners of Kitty's lips at the touch, and her own hand reaches up to press the now-withdrawing hand back to her cheek. While she won't say it again, she seeks out his gaze for a moment and adds, "It was all true. Perhaps nonsensical, but all true." He can feel the heat from her cheeks as they flush again. Affection is easy to come by it seems. Although, it's still mired in that bashful embarrassment. "I'm sorry I'm so awkward. Even concussed I was the epitome of ridiculous." Her eyebrows lift with just a level of oh well. This is her lot in life, it seems. She emits a soft sigh, and then notes, "My head hurts. It hasn't hurt this badly since I first start phasing."
*
It isn't difficult to catch Piotr's hand and draw it to her cheek or to catch his gaze. It does finally bring the first glimmer of a blush to his cheeks. "As I said. Nothing I did not want to hear," he says with a sheepish smile. He hesitates a moment, silent, and then he's cracking up and bringing his other hand up to hide his face. "…I am not trying to avoid saying it back because I do not feel the same. It is this damned room," he explains with an expansive sigh, spreading his fingers so that he can peek out at Kitty from between them. At least they're both awkward?
The note about her head hurting does get him to lower his hand from his face, at least. "Do you need me to fetch someone?" Piotr asks, frowning in concern.
*
There's another flush of Kitty's cheeks. "I wasn't looking for that — it was awful timing and not at all a moment I would choose to say it. But I do." And then with a smirk she notes, "I'm sure I could've chosen a more opportune time like when we're both getting mind bombed by a quintet of blonde telepaths. Or when we're supercharging a bunch of mysterious white vans full of people being held against their will." She chuckles lightly. "Macy's. It had to be Macy's." She grins bashfully and then finally pushes herself up to a seated position, "I spend way too much time in here."
"So… I really sneezed through the floor?" she cringes lightly. "That's got some potentially negative timing tied to it. And probably something worth paying attention to." The last has her peeking back at him. "Tired, mostly. I think the headache is warranted. But if it would make you feel better…" her lips twist to the side.
*
"Oh, yes. Those would have been much better times," Piotr laughs, some of the remaining tension leaving his shoulders. The longer she's awake, the more herself Kitty is acting. Good. "We are both in here too much lately. We need to be more careful," he sighs, settling back into his chair. He does not, however, withdraw the hand that has been holding onto hers. It stays put.
Piotr nods once, running his free hand back over his hair. "You did. And do not worry about what would make me feel better. No doctors unless you need one," he says confidently, dropping his eyes to the folder in his lap. With a distasteful twist of his lips, he closes it and sets it aside. Later.
*
Kitty slides back down from her seated position to lay down again. Her eyes squint up at him and she shoots him a quirky smile. "We're supposed to be immune. No one can touch me. Except Macy's floor." She frowns slightly as she considers, "And the girl with the claws…" her eyes absently trail to his cheek. "I'm glad we got you patched up relatively well. I can't even tell," because she can't.
"I hate doctors," she notes as she settles back down on the bed. "But.. I am a little sleepy. I'm just going to close my eyes a bit." There's a twitch of a smile that follows the words. "Petey, can you… can you stay with me? Until I sleep again, I mean…"
*
Without thinking, Piotr's hand drifts up to touch his shoulder when Kitty mentions the girl with the claws and a quiet, pensive rumble issues from his throat. "Neither can I. It is a little unsettling."
He shakes himself and gives Kitty's hand another squeeze. "Of course," Piotr tells her with a smile, head tilting slightly as he watches her get settled. "I will be right here."
*
"Hey," Kitty manages softly, "you're okay." But her teeth toy worry her bottom lip after she says it, giving some indication of her thoughts on the matter. "What did you make of her? She's well-trained. Fast. Calculating." At least from Kitty's experience. "And she reacts quickly. Twice she's thrown me." And possibly more in the queue. Only time will tell.
There's a grateful smile that follows the assertion followed by a nod. "Thank you," she whispers as her eyes drift closed lightly. It's only once her eyes are closed that she finally asks, "Anything terribad in that file?"
*
ROLL: Piotr +rolls 1d10 for a result of: 5
*
"I know I am. That is what is unsettling," Piotr admits, letting his thumb idly stroke the back of her hand almost as if it were a worrystone. "She is… mm. She did give me the opportunity to surrender the girl," he murmurs thoughtfully. "Hurting us was not why she was there. So she tried not to."
He glances down to the file when she asks about it and can't help a mildly frustrated noise. "I would tell you if I could understand it. We need a doctor, I think," he grumbles, shaking his head. "I do not even know what I am looking at."
*
"Interesting," Kitty murmurs with her eyes still closed and her fingers slowly lacing with Piotr's. "So…" her voice becomes tentative, "you're unsettled that you're okay because she didn't want to hurt you?" Her eyebrows draw together lightly. She sits up and stares at his eyes, "I'm grateful you're okay. And I — " her eyebrows knit together. " — I met this man who was investigating all of this. He suggested she has a deadness in her eyes. I think…" her lips press together tightly "… I read my file. What they were trying to do to me. Do you think…?" she can't bring herself to say it in its entirety.
She reaches up to brush his cheek with her free hand. "I hate doctors," she muses with a smirk. "All they do is make me sit here when I should be out getting bad guys." Not that she's objecting terribly at being in the MedBay when her head throbs so much…
*
"Not exactly," Piotr replies slowly, meeting her eyes and cracking a small smile as he spreads his fingers to welcome the contact. "Being cut… that is unsettling enough. But knowing that it was mended with a torch, like… like a car. That troubles me." He lifts his shoulders in a shrug, waving it off with his free hand. More important things to worry about. "I think it is possible. I think it would be worth asking the three other girls, if we could."
Obligingly, Piotr leans over to make his cheek easier for her to reach, mirroring her smirk with one of his own. "It is very unfair of them, I agree. But we do need to be more careful. Coney Island… we were reckless," he murmurs, the smirk fading. "Next time, we should bring help. Plan. We were lucky the Professor and Keith were there. I would not have been able to protect you from those girls alone."
*
There's a faint nod following the assertion. "I'm sorry," Kitty offers lowly. She hmmms quietly, "I hadn't thought of it, but I can see how that'd be rather… unsettling." With another twist of her lips her chin drops to her chest thoughtfully. "I'll try to see if the Professor can talk to them or maybe the three of us — or something. I'm not sure dealing with telepaths on our own is wise." She frowns lightly. "I don't intend to go there again. They exploited us. They just came in and took whatever they wanted and formed a little world around it."
When her chin lifts, her lips have turned down some. "I'm okay," she whispers quietly. "And I can take care of myself." Her eyes turn upwards and she issues him a reassuring smile, "Normally." She wallows hard and emits a soft sigh. "Seriously. I was trained to fight. I'm ridiculously stealthy… " Her lips twitch. "Makes a person wonder, doesn't it? They know someone took those files, right? Were they just waiting?"
*
"It would explain how they are always there in force, if they have been able to determine what files are missing," Piotr notes, and his expression is… tired. "They know what we know, better than we know it. So they are able to fortify positions, prevent us from getting past their people and into whatever facilities there might be." It's like punching air. Except this air is fully capable of punching back.
*
"That's even more unsettling. The more we know, the more they can prepare," Kitty virtually hisses. "I feel like they always get the drop — that we're just consistently playing catch-up." Her hand finally drifts from his cheek back down to the bed. "Thanks, by the way." Her cheeks hue pink, "I never thanked you for Coney Island. I don't exactly know what happened. I wasn't expecting… it was perfectly public. Such things shouldn't be carried out in public. But thank you. For having my back. For being there." Pause. "For being here. I don't deserve this level of…" awkwardly, she stumbles on her words, unsure what to call it, and finally landing on "…care." A safe blanket statement following her too-revealing chatter from a day before.
*
Yes, perfectly safe. Even after she withdraws her hand, Piotr stays put, which is good — it gives him less distance to cover when he leans in to press a light, lingering kiss to her cheek. "No. You deserve more," he says quietly, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he stays close. "You do not have to thank me for backing your play, Katya. Or for being here now. I do it because I want to." There is a brief, awkward almost-bobbling of the words as he says them. He's trying to figure out how safe he should keep things, too.
*
Kitty's eyes drift closed at the kiss on her cheek. Her breath hitches in her throat. Impulse meets desire and she whispers quietly, "I love you." Her eyes flit to meet his while her heart pounds in her chest. Her palms sweat. She swallows hard and her lips quirk into a nervous smile. Kitty, the queen of timing.
*
Oh. Well. That answers that question, doesn't it? Piotr does not actually blush, but the little twinkle that comes to his eye from the words might just make up for it. He meets her eyes steadily and, slowly, develops a rather sweet smile. "<I love you, too,>" he whispers back. Then pauses. And winces as he realizes it came out in Russian, immediately blushing and looking flustered. "I mean. Um. What I said —"
*
Evidently, safety is overrated. There's a glimmer of something indiscernible in her eyes. And even though Kitty's Russian continues to be painfully poor, the meaning seems clear to her. Rather than grant Piotr time to clarify in English, with that same impulse pressing through Kitty's veins, she tilts her head slightly to gently brush her lips against his. There's a gingerness in the motion, carefully, oddly precise, but also strangely exacting.
*
Highly overrated. Let the record show that one very effective method of shutting Piotr Rasputin up appears to be kissing him. The clumsy attempt to clarify is abandoned as soon as there are lips brushing against his. She can feel him smiling before he begins to return the kiss in kind, and he murmurs quietly into her lips. "We really do need to have that second date."
*
A contented exhalation of breath follows the kiss, and Kitty leans forward to gently rest her forehead against Piotr's. With her eyes lightly lidded, she affirms in a quiet hum. A few moments later she offers: "Leave it to me?" She'd already come up with a plan when she was semi-pressured into asking him on that second date. "I promise I'll do my best to not get us shot at, telepath'd, or otherwise maimed." Fondly her fingers brush against his cheek once more. A glance is cast over her shoulder and she casts him a tender smile. "I probably should sleep. For real, I mean."
*
"Mmm. That seems fair," Piotr agrees, letting one eye crack open to peek at her. "Friends plan first date. You plan second. I will plan the third, then," he muses thoughtfully, tilting his head to steal another quick peck before he leans back. "You should. Would you still like me to stay?" he asks, raising his eyebrows. "I really do not mind."
*
The peck is easily returned, and Kitty finally lays back down, letting herself settle on the bed once again. "I would." Pause. "Please. Just.. until I fall asleep," she yawns wearily and allows herself to relax. Her head still throbs, and her body aches, but right now, for a moment, everything feels perfect.
*