phasing_cat | Oops I Overdid It Again

Entry tags:

who: americanass; verse: captain pryde

Oops I Overdid It Again - for @americanass

Kitty struggled out of the taxi, nearly falling to one knee when she stepped up onto the sidewalk. Every part of her felt like it was filled with lead, and her clothes and hair smelled like smoke. She assumed that she looked as disheveled as she felt, but that wasn't important at the moment. Looking up, she was greeted by a small miracle. Since the last time she'd been there, a shelter had been built over the bench at the bus stop just a few feet away. She shuffled over to it, planted her feet, locked her knees, and leaned back against it. Immediate threat of collapse handled.

It was late, after midnight, and the street was deserted though the sounds of traffic from the main thoroughfare a couple blocks away floated in the air. This was a good neighborhood, on the nicer side without being obvious about it, and the building was very secure. She didn't have the key fob or code to get in on her own. So she pulled her phone from her pocket and dialed Steve's number. If she weren't so utterly exhausted it would have occurred to her to call while still in the cab, so that if he wasn't home she could have chosen a different destination. But she was committed now, for better or worse. Glancing up at the darkened windows she knew looked into his bedroom and living room, she prayed that he was there. And awake. Or at least had left his phone ringer on.

Please pick up, please pick up, please pick up...

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She couldn't stop her head from falling back onto the cushion, but she could at least turn it in his direction. She hated the look in his eyes, and the fact that she'd put it there. She reached a hand toward him and sighed again. It wasn't a story that lent itself to a shortened version, but she'd have to try.

"I was talking to the girl I told you about when there was an explosion in the apartment building across the street. And I don't know what that place was made of but the fire spread so fast... you know I had to help. I can get to places firefighters can't. So I was helping get people out and it was hectic but going okay, and then this older lady in a wheelchair asked if anyone had checked the basement because a bunch of kids like to hang out down there." She didn't need to tell him that she'd immediately gone straight there. He knew her well enough.

"It was bad, Steve. The smoke was really thick and the stairs were blocked from shit falling down already and... I get down there and there's a sea of terrified little faces staring at me." Talking about it brought her right back there, and all of the emotions she had suppressed at the time came back with it. She wasn't expecting to be blinking back tears already.

"I don't even remember how many there were. 8, maybe 9? One older kid, maybe 16, and the rest were around ten-ish. I told them it was gonna be okay but inside, I didn't know if I could take that many at once. But there wasn't enough time to make more than one trip. I mean, I could never be the one to decide who to save and who to leave behind? And then look them in the eye and say 'sorry, you're screwed'?"

“So you put yourself on the line,” Steve supplied simply, understandingly. Of course he would understand that. That was what he’d have done, no question. It was what he did each and every time he saw anyone in danger. Steve couldn’t just stand by, and it made perfect sense to him that the woman he cared for, maybe more than just cared for, was the same.

"And you got them out." That wasn't a question either. She was too put together, even in her exhaustion, not to have. "But you overdid it in the process?" Either worked too hard or used her abilities too much. Steve didn't have any idea how her powers worked, but if he could push himself too far he figured she could too. It just took a lot more than they usually went through.

A lot more than he ever wanted for her to go through. He hated to see her like this, no matter how well he understood that it was who she was, what she did. Her job. He'd never want for her to give it up but seeing her after pushing too hard, going a little too far? It wouldn't ever sit right with him.

She let out a full body exhale. He understood. She would figure out later that she had known that he would, which was why she instinctually went to his place. She finally lets her self close her eyes a minute but it doesn't stop the tears. She slumps toward him until she's lying down with her head in his lap.

"I've never been that scared. Not just for them but me, too. My ability is usually what makes it so I'm not scared. But I was pretty sure I was going to kill all of us." And those children's families would never have known what had happened to them, because their bodies would never be found. They would all have suffocated to death before she could phase them up above ground.

"I took them behind the building because the fire trucks were in front and that's where the news vans gravitate. And I didn't want.... any of that. We ended up on a basketball court and as soon as they all let go of me I know it was bad. I almost fell down right there. Thank God that older kid - I can't believe I never got his name - saw and he helped me out to the street and hailed me a cab." And that was how she'd ended up on his doorstep.

Steve immediately shifted when she leaned into him, quick to accept her into his space, his hand smoothing against her hair again when she wound up laying in his lap. And he just kept touching her, stroking her hair, or brushing his fingers against her arm, a gently soothing motion while he listened to her.

"You made the right call." Steve didn't think she needed his reassurance, didn't think his opinion on it should matter all that much in her decision making. At least not when it came to doing her job, or doing the right thing. He didn't think for one second that he would let hers influence him if he found himself in a similar scenario.

Of course, he'd have done exactly what she had, just in his own way, and maybe that was why.

"And I'm glad you came here." He'd said he'd always prefer she did already but knowing what happened? He absolutely wanted her to come to him. "You scared the hell out of me, but if nothing else, I'm closer than you trying to get home like this." He could take care of her, protect her, this way. Until she was feeling up to going anywhere else, and even then.

"Yeah. I just need a few hours of sleep and then I can drive home." Her voice had grown softer, breathier, as the fumes she'd been running on finally started to run out. She wouldn't have called his overly-muscled thigh an ideal pillow but she had no complaints. He was warm, and his touch was soothing, and even though she hadn't even taken her shoes off yet, she was comfortable. Her eyes were closed, and she was entirely incapable of reopening them.

She was steadily sliding into sleep when she heard the text alert from her phone. She blindly reached for it, assuming it was Storm wanting to know why she wasn't home yet. Her fingertips grazed the edge of the coffee table, then her arm fell limp as she lost what last tiny grip she had on consciousness.

Unfortunately for Steve, Storm wasn't the kind of person to just sit and wait. The name "Aurora" would continue to flash on the screen of Kate's phone, until her level of concern grew past texting and she started to call.

He'd worry about arguing her out of driving home after just a couple hours when she woke up. For the time being, Steve was surprisingly alright with just keeping her there on his sofa, letting her sleep a while while he stroked her hair. He should get her something more comfortable to do it in, not that he had a single thing likely to fit her in his apartment, or at very least move her to his bed so she could be comfortable. But she was worn out and he didn't have the heart to disturb her just yet.

He didn't even have the heart to disturb her as her phone kept flashing until it wasn't just a text anymore. On the third call, he just sighed and shifted out from under her to pick it up. He couldn't just let it ring and let it wake her when she needed to rest and knowing the fear he'd felt getting the call from her, he could only imagine the worry no answer at all would inspire.

Steve wouldn't just let anyone have to feel that if he could help in any way.

So he stepped through into the kitchen, kept his voice pitched low even then, and answered with a quick: "Hey, Kate's not available at the moment. Can I ask her to give you a call back in the morning?"

And hoped that would be good enough, because he wasn't looking to get drawn into an interrogation.

It was not, by any stretch of the imagination, good enough.

"Who is this?" It was extremely odd for anyone other than Kitty to answer her phone. Storm's voice carried concern under its austere and composed African accent.

"Is Katherine alright? This is her friend, Ororo. I saw a report on the news that has me... concerned." She couldn't betray more details than that - she had no idea who she was speaking to or how much they knew about Kitty's abilities. She was more than concerned, considering the report had been comprised of various accounts from residents of being rescued by an anonymous woman who'd walked through walls.

The sigh of resignation was stifled before it could surface. Steve could play the game, polite and well-mannered and helpful. He wasn't exactly thrilled to get pulled into answering questions, but it didn't seem fair for Kate's friend to be left in the dark. It was why he'd answered the phone in the first place.

"This is Steve," he answered, thought better of leaving it that and smoothly added: "Rogers." His name carried weight, and he knew that. Normally he wouldn't take advantage of it, but if it could maybe help the woman on the phone trust him and what he told her? He was going to use every tool in his kit. "And she's alright."

He wouldn't lie and say fine, she wasn't, but she also wasn't injured and she wasn't in any danger now that she'd made her way to him. So she was okay.

"It sounds like she just overdid it a little and needed to rest." Where, was none of Ororo's business unless Kate decided to make it so. Steve couldn't make that call.

"Ah, Mr. Rogers. Katherine has told me a lot about you. It's nice to meet you, such as it is. I wish it were under different circumstances." Storm took a moment to consider what he'd said in combination with Kitty's actions. She would always think of her as Kitty, even if she no longer wished to be called that. And though she would prefer to be the one taking care of her, Kitty was no longer a child - even if Ororo did love her as if she were her own daughter.

"She chose you to help her, and I trust her judgment. But you should know what you are getting into. If the news report was remotely accurate, Katherine did not overdo it 'a little'. Rescuing those children alone would have exhausted her. She would have slept, well, for a night or two. But she had already helped nearly two dozen people before she went into that basement.

The last time something like this happened she was 16 and testing the limits of her ability. She phased herself and 3 adults through mostly air but some solid material for almost two continuous minutes. Afterwards she collapsed, and slept for about 36 hours, if memory serves. She is older now, of course, and stronger, but without knowing exactly how many people or long she phased them, I can't tell you for certain how long she'll be out. It could be days.

Do you think you can take care of her for that long? Because if not, we can come get her." She would not have thought less of him if he said it was too much. Having someone you care about be completely helpless and dependent upon you for their survival was more than the average person would ever want to deal with. But if Kitty thought that Steve could do it, then Ororo was willing to give him a chance.

The average person, Steve Rogers was not. There wasn't even a beat of hesitation behind his answer.

"I've got this," he insisted, his tone leaving no room for argument. Not that he expected one. The woman on the phone was giving him information and giving him the chance to back out gracefully, but she didn't know him. Didn't know that he couldn't back out. Kate had chosen him for safety and he couldn't let her down. Even if he hadn't cared for her the way he did, he wouldn't have run from that. His feelings for her just meant he was that much more determined to take care of her.

Knowing just how much she had to have done to be so exhausted just made the feeling stronger. She'd done the right thing and she deserved safety after all that. He could give that. Any urgent rush toward the end of the world that required him to step in again aside, but that sort of thing had seemed to die down in the last several years, leaving Steve a lot more reliable. He'd never been so glad of it as he was the second Kate had needed his help.

"I appreciate the offer, though," he added as diplomatically as he could. "I'll get in touch if there's a need, or keep you updated if that'd be better, but otherwise I'll let her know to call when she's up to it." And not a minute sooner. "

Storm wished that she felt as confident as he sounded. Maybe she would, if he had any experience with mutants or medicine or had even known Kitty for more than a couple of months. She had to remind herself that she did not know him as well as Kitty did - maybe not enough for Storm's comfort level but obviously enough for her own. But how much could she trust the judgment of a girl so smitten, still looking at him through rose-colored glasses?

"Alright. Then... keep her comfortable. Keep her warm." A pause. "She will look worse when she wakes up than she does now. She is slender, as you know, so there's little for her body to draw on to heal itself. It'll use what little fat she has, then muscle." If she was at home they could give her IV fluids and nutritional support, lessening the impact on her body. Again, Storm had to defer to Kitty's choice.

"If she's not awake in 48 hours, or anything happens that concerns you in the slightest, call me. We can quickly come get her and bring her back to our medical facility." Where Storm preferred she already was, of course. Where she could watch over her, hold her hand, until she woke up.

"If everything goes perfectly, she'll need calories when she wakes up. Blueberry pancakes are her favorite." She found herself getting choked up, a rarity for her. She really did love her more than just about anyone.

"Steven... take care of our girl."

Her instructions were helpful, more than they were an irritating implication that he wasn't up to the task, and Steve filed each bit of it away. She needed more than just sleep, but sleep the most for the moment, and it very well could take days. It wouldn't be easy but Steve didn't run from hard.

And he couldn't help but smile, just a little, to himself at the knowledge that Kate liked blueberry pancakes. That was news to him, unsurprisingly, they were still very firmly in the stage of getting to know each other, but he found it endearing. Steve absolutely could not cook, but if he had a couple of days? Maybe he could figure that much out. It would be the thought that counted regardless.

"I will," he promised. "She's safe with me." No matter what happened, she would be safe and protected and cared for. He'd let her rest as long as she needed, do whatever he needed to do for her until she got her strength back. Make as many questionable blueberry pancakes as it took, or attempt it at least.

Steve didn't think he even had anything to make blueberry pancakes with.

Those were not immediate problems, though. Immediate problems included the fact that Kate was unconscious on his sofa and in clothes that he hadn't noticed smelled of smoke, but they probably did, and her shoes, that wasn't exactly keeping her comfortable.

Storm sighed. There was nothing more to say, really. Even though she wasn't directly talking to Kitty, hanging up the phone felt like letting go of the only tangible connection she had to her. To think of doing so was disquieting, to say the least.

"I'm sure she is." If she kept saying it she would hopefully, eventually, believe it.

"Your offer of updates is appreciated, and will be go a long way in alleviating everyone's concerns. She is well loved here and will be missed." And with that she was completely out of stalling tactics, and had no choice but to let him go.

"Good night." She hung up and immediately went online to make sure the GPS in Kitty's phone was on and transmitting. There it was, right in the city where she was supposed to be.

Steve looked down at the phone in his hand for a moment and just shook his head. Really not the ideal way to meet, in some way, Kate’s friends, her family as far as Steve could tell, but it was what it was and what it was, was sort of nice to know that there were people like that looking out for his girl. He knew he wouldn’t always be so close by, near enough to call for help. He’d never doubted she had plenty of people who cared about her, but knowing it and experiencing it were different things.

He moved quietly back to the living room, Kate’s phone placed quietly on the table again, paused only a second to just look at her. It might be smarter to have someone who knew her abilities better to take care of her, but the very thought of letting anyone else take over squeezed his chest. He’d just take every piece of advice Ororo had given him and layer it all with his good intentions and affections.
He’d let her rest for now and worry about the rest as it came.

Steve took a glance at her boots, decided those definitely weren’t helping anything, and moved to kneel on the floor beside her to take them off.

Kate would be disappointed to know she missed seeing something so adorable - big burly Steve, kneeling on the floor, pulling off her small-in-comparison boots. She would be touched to learn about the conversation between Steve and Storm, and of Steve's almost stubborn insistence on protecting her even if it was from someone she loved.

But at that moment, she was adrift in sweet oblivion. There was no exhaustion, pain, or fear. There was no discomfort, even though her body was contorted in a less-than-ideal position. The waistband of her jeans were cutting into her side. The underwire of her bra was poking her sternum. Thankfully she felt none of it.

Steve might wish the situation was different. He surely had questions about what she would want, what she would agree to, when it came to taking of more than her boots. She would answer those, if she could. She wasn't shy about her body, and she would tell him to do whatever needed done and not worry about it. She would suggest he order her some pajamas on an app with same day delivery. He should have been grateful, really, that she wasn't conscious. If she were, but too physically exhausted to move, she would be the grumpiest invalid in history. Not a good look, when you're in the beginning of a relationship.

It really was unfortunate she wasn’t conscious enough to tell him what was okay. Because no matter how Steve wanted to make her comfortable, he wasn’t about to do much more than get her out of her boots.

He did, though, after another moment of consideration, move to gently pick her up from the couch, carry her through to his bedroom and tuck her, smokey clothes and all, into his bed. He’d wash it all later, that was no issue. He did worry about whether or not Kate would mind any of it, all of it, but it was worth her minding if she woke up as comfortable as he could make her.

He wound up taking her phone in as well, leaving it on the bedside table along with a glass of water, just in case, and left the door open a crack while he went back to the drawing he’d abandoned in the kitchen. He’d just keep himself quietly busy, check in on her every now and then until she woke up or something changed.

For nearly 25 hours, she stayed exactly where he put her, not moving a muscle other than to breathe. Then his next check in on her would reveal she'd rolled onto her side - and had removed her bra and dropped it on the floor. She wouldn't remember doing either. But it was the first change, the first sign that she might be starting to come out of it.

About ten hours later, as the sun was setting, was the first time she regained a modicum of consciousness. She wasn't really aware of a particular thought, it was more of a feeling - an urgent one. And as hard as it was to make her body move, she couldn't ignore it. She absolutely had to go to the bathroom.

She couldn't quite recall where she was but that didn't stop her from rolling toward the edge of the bed and pushing the covers off. When her bare feet touched the ground, she discovered that her socks were gone. She didn't know that she'd taken them off hours earlier, and they were stuffed down under the sheets and comforter. She should have tested her legs before trying to stand - she would have discovered that they felt like spindly toothpicks stacked end to end. She might have paused and forced herself to think, to remember where she was. But there was very little thinking going on. In fact, her eyes were barely even open, and she had no idea where the bathroom even was, just that it wasn't in the bed.

Which is why, rather than standing up, her legs crumpled under her and she fell to the floor. As she fell she reached out blindly for something to hold onto. She not only found nothing to grasp, but she knocked the glass of water off the nightstand to the floor, where it shattered with a loud crash.

For the whole day and a half, give or take, that passed, Steve checked on Kate every hour, almost like clockwork. He dozed on the couch in between, kept quiet and alert for any sign she was in distress, did a little reading and had a few things delivered so he could attempt those pancakes when she did wake up. But mostly he just waited quietly. Mostly in the other room with the bedroom door cracked, sometimes perched on the edge of the bed beside her for a few minutes.

More than a day of quiet meant the crash in the bedroom cut sharply through the air and Steve was up, moving quickly in his surprise, not knowing what he was expecting but ready to do whatever needed doing to protect Kate. It wouldn't be the first time his apartment had been attacked, though it was hardly a common occurrence, and he was ready for a fight. But, of course, wound up stopping short when instead of someone unexpected he found Kate on the floor, broken glass sprayed out in every direction.

"Kate?" Ignoring the mess, and the sharp sting of an errant shard in one of his feet, Steve crossed immediately to kneel beside her, hands on her arms gently to straighten her up. "You okay?" First things first, before he let himself be relieved that she'd come around, that he could do more than just wait and see, he was checking her for new injuries, making sure she hadn't hit her head or cut her hands.

Ow. She'd fallen right on her hip and it was going to bruise. She struggled to form a complete, rational thought. Her brain felt like it had been stuffed with cotton. Her body didn't feel familiar, didn't even look familiar. Her arms and legs were thinner. Her jeans were loose around her waist. And where was she, exactly? Where had she been when she'd fallen asleep?

But the voice, the hands checking her over, she knew them. Steve. She forced herself to lift her head and open her eyes. She completely missed that he had asked her a question. With him there, figuring everything else out didn't seem so urgent. Her eyelids drooped again not unlike a drowsy baby's might. She managed to touch her temple to his shoulder and utter a single word.

"Bathroom."

No significant injuries he could see, and however weak she seemed, however rocky her voice sounded to his ears, relief washed over him. She was alright, all things considered, and she was awake at least for a moment. That was a good sign. He was pretty sure of that.

"Bathroom," Steve echoed, the faintest hint of amusement behind the understanding in his voice. "Right. Come on. I've got you."

Carefully, he eased her up, supporting her weight, steadying her. She might not be strong enough to stand on her own after so long unconscious, but Steve was strong enough to do all the work if he needed to. It was no hardship for him to haul her a few steps further down the hall to his small and tidy bathroom.

To say he walked her to the bathroom would be inaccurate - he carried her. It wasn't in a traditional way, and her legs were moving, more or less, but he did all the work. She ended up using one hand to hold up her jeans, since they slipped lower on her hips with every second that passed.

His bathroom being small was a blessing in disguise. She was able to use the vanity to hold herself up and shoo him out of the room. No matter how bad of a shape she was in, there was no possible situation in which she would let him stay in the room while she used the bathroom. No. Hard no.

She didn't even have to unbutton her jeans, just let them fall to the floor. Sitting down was the easiest part of the whole adventure, and for a brief moment she nearly fell asleep there, black boy-short panties around her ankles. She summoned all she had in her to stay awake. When she was done she stood up and decided to leave her jeans there for no real reason other than she didn't know if she could bend over to pick them up without falling down. Again, thanks to the small room, she was able to just pivot on one foot to be in front of the sink. She turned on the water to wash her hands and was amazed at how good the cold water felt. All the exertion was making her hot. The porcelain of the sink was cool under her hands, as was the tile under her feet.

In fact, laying down on the cool tile felt like a really good idea. The best idea. She lowered herself down, enjoying the cold on her bare legs, then stretched out, cheek and palms pressed to the tile. The last thought she had before falling asleep again was that she'd left the water running.

He’d absolutely would have helped her if she needed it, but since she seemed stable enough on her feet by the time they reached the bathroom to at least not go crashing to the floor again, Steve let her be, waited in the hallway for long minutes. Ready to sweep back in and help her again once she was done. He heard the water running, and didn’t hear it stop. For a lot longer than it should be. On and on until he couldn’t just wait anymore.

Steve knocked first, of course, called out to her with no response. Gave it a few more seconds before deciding it was worth embarrassing her if she did need help, before letting himself in with half-hearted apologies that he knew fell on deaf ears before he saw her.

Curled up on the floor like a sleepy child.

Steve laughed to himself, shaking his head, moving without hesitation to scoop her right up off the floor, murmuring about it being no place to sleep. More for his own sake than hers, just because saying the words made him feel better. It was only a handful of steps to take her right back to the bed, leaving her pants behind, though her added weight, slight as it was, reminded him of the shard of glass in his bare foot. He ignored it the best he could all the same, picked his way carefully around the shattered glass on the floor to place her gingerly beneath the covers again. Not without a little hiss of pain when doing so put pressure on just the wrong spot.

Only once he’d made sure Kate was comfortable again did Steve go for the broom to clean up the mess first, careful to get every shred of glass from the floor in case she got out of bed while he wasn’t looking again. And only then did he return to the bathroom to deal with his own foot. Which turned into him first picking up her pants and folding them neatly.

He figured he probably had at least another couple hours, another day, before she woke again so he wasn’t in too much of a rush, just tidied up and tended to the glass sliver, went so far as to replaced the broken glass of water despite the risk of it winding up in the same state and went back to waiting just like he’d done before.

There were a few times she almost woke, nearly emerged from the abyss, only to roll over and sink back down again. When she did finally open her eyes the sun was just starting to come up. She'd been out for longer than 48 hours but not by much. She took several deep breaths, stretching her arms up over her head and her toes down as far as they would reach. Her body felt strange. Weaker but not weak, like it had been through something that had taken a lot out of her, but she could still get up and walk if she wanted to.

Her throat was hot and dry, and as soon as she saw the glass of water she sat up, reached for it, and downed it in short order. Still holding the empty glass with both hands, she looked around the room. Steve's bedroom. She was in Steve's bed. With no pants on. Curious. She was pretty sure she'd had them on when she'd nodded off on his couch.

"Steve?"

The waiting was probably one of the most stressful things Steve had done. He wasn’t very patient and not being able to do anything to fix it was hard. But he filled the time by checking in on her regularly, making sure she was comfortable and not getting any worse, reassuring himself that as long as it went on she was just sleeping, and rather peacefully by the looks of it.

He almost didn’t register her voice calling out for him, half dozing on the sofa while a cup of coffee went cold at his elbow.

But Steve was waiting for her to wake up, so hearing what he’d been anxious for had him on his feet and down the short hall in no more than a moment, the concern on his face immediately shifting to relief to see Kate not only awake, but sitting.

“Hey.” His voice was soft, soothing, and he moved to perch on the edge of the bed beside her. “How’re you feeling?” She looked better than the last time she’d woken, that was for sure, if a little drawn.

A simple question that didn't have a simple answer.

"Weird," she said, the first word that came to mind that seemed remotely accurate. She didn't remember feeling like this the last time she'd overextended herself. She'd woken feeling and looking pretty much normal. She ran her fingers through her hair and wondered if she looked as drained as she felt. Drained was a pretty good word, too. As if she'd been attacked by a vampire cursed with a sense of restraint.

"Hungry." She grinned crookedly and reached for his hand.

"I'm sorry if I scared you. How long have I been out?"

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