| For eight months they were allowed to live together; months in which their bond only became deeper. Time where they trained and went on missions together, but never just the two of them, alone. But despite everything, it also time where being a Hound became a bearable thing to be. But changes were happening to the Hound program that they weren't aware of... * * * Kurt: Kurt and Kitty finished their training program of the day. A man they didn't know entered the room. He stood with their trainers, wearing major's insignia, and the symbols of the Psych department. "My name is Major Rudolf, and you are now in my care." Kurt thought his name was most fitting. He was indeed red-haired, and he had an air of the predator about him, especially the way that he smiled so easily, but it never quite reached his eyes. He displayed his toothy smile to them. "The records I have on you two show you've been given extraordinary privileges, and yet, I don't see that you have yielded extraordinary results. Now that my illustrious predecessor has been promoted to headquarters, I've been given the mission to get the most out of the Hound assets of this Carrier." He walked around the two of them, surveying the dark leather suits, emblazoned with a torso-length 'H' of a Hound, as if their respective facial markings didn't mark them well enough. His eyes marked Kurt's feet and tail, and strayed over Kitty's developing curves. "The grotesque German and the Jewess mutant," he said, and snorted. "There may have been a rationale for your special treatments in the past, but I don't see the need for them anymore. Your initial placement together resulted in a nice improvement in your efforts, but I believe the program is better served by separating you, now. The Socials are there for a reason, so if you earn it, you can still meet again, the same as the other Hounds. There are reports your circumstances have hurt morale of the other Hounds." Kurt's throat worked silently, and he swallowed hard. He could hear Kitty's teeth grinding together. "As of today Nightcrawler, you are remanded back to your barracks. Your things will be delivered by dinnertime. You will work with a new detail. Shadowcat, your current living assignment is unchanged and you'll start working in the disposal department. Your training will resume separate training, with some new trainers." He turned to the waiting trainers. "Howards, Combs, you'll be given new subjects. Brestin and Vaile are now the senior trainers, and are hereby given full discretion, under new guidelines. Am I understood?" Agent Brestin smiled broadly. "Yes sir, thank you sir." They were sent to the showers. His tail dragged low to the ground. He couldn't look at her; as much as much he'd feared this moment, it was incredibly painful when it came. Kitty kept her eyes on him, her tears washed away by the water. They went to dinner in silence, hand in hand. The misery that exuded from them seemed vastly to Brad, because he appeared to be in a jovial mood. The glare they jointly threw at him only made him laugh harder. He was met at the door by a security guard with his trunk. Kurt stepped to embrace her, and the guard shook his head. Instead he gave her a searing look and a touch of his fingers to his lips, before he was forced to turn away. * * * Kitty: She returned to the quarters, and wandered through the rooms. His trunk was gone, but his toothbrush and comb were still in the bathroom, she supported that he'd be issued new ones. Her fingers stroked over them, while tears streaked down her face. When she went to bed, she curled up and round his pillow, and sobbed for hours. In the morning she was walking down the hall she'd seen him walk so many times, when a man in workman's garb came from the other direction. "Hello, girl," he said. "Would you be Shadowcat?" "Yes sir." He must have come to guide her to the workplace. "Aw, don't 'sir' me. I'm Joe, and you're supposed to come with me." "Yes... Joe. He... told me a lot about you." She fell into step with him. "I've heard him go on about you, too. He sure loves ya a lot." She swallowed hard, and tried not to start sobbing. He stopped in the hallway, and fished a hanky from his pocket. "Oh, hey. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up. Painful subject, huh?" "You could say that," she said. She scrubbed her face with the handkerchief, and pulled herself back together. "You cool now? Okay, here we go. You ever sort recyclables back home?" "Yes... yeah." The 'sir' world was so ingrained; it was hard not to say, even to a workman. "Well, this is a lot like that. Cans here, glass there; and then it gets subdivided. Stuff that burns gets bundled together in this machine, and one of the guys takes it to the furnace room. That's where a lot of our hot water comes from, ya know?" "I didn't know that." And she couldn't make herself sound very interested, either. "Well, I'll leave ya to it. All the bins are marked, so it should be easy. Look, I'm not a hard ass, so... don't work too hard, 'kay?" "I won't, Joe. I just... need some time." "Gotcha. Just do yer five hours, and get used to the smell. Let me know if you need anything, okay?" * * * Kurt: "If it ain't the 'too good for you guys' altar-boy. Welcome back, I missed you." Brad's smile showed he remembered the thumping Kurt had given him in their joint practice, and meant to get some interest. But Kurt was much more assured of himself and his powers. Before lights out, he'd memorized the room, and stretched out his spatial senses for the exact dimensions. After lights out, he waited, feigning sleep. An instant before the first blow landed, he ported, leaving his attackers to choke on the fumes. From the top of an empty bunk across the room, he watched their confusion. "Where'd the fuck he'd go?" "He's over there," Brad said. "You can see his eyes..." Bamf. "Now, I'm over here. BOO!" The dark made it simple. He was far faster than the only one who stood even a slight chance of catching him, and others were easy targets. Anyone who stayed in their bunks, he left alone, as well as those who wisely left the fray, but the rest of them felt his fury. Click. The lights came on to the sound of one last port. "What's going on here?" shouted the guard. Kurt sat up on his bunk like those who'd been awakened by the lights. No bruises showed on his knuckles, and the sprawled attackers couldn't exactly explain why they were all out of their bunks, or why most of them needed minor medical attention. The guard herded out those who were bleeding, and wrote down the names or training numbers of those caught out of their bunks. He looked at Kurt, whose bunk was the epicenter of the disturbance, but he only got a shrug in return. Kurt's sleep wasn't interrupted at night anymore in the barracks. * * * Kitty: They were training separately again. Kitty had exceeded Brestin's combat skills a few months ago, but she continued sparring with experts in other martial arts styles. Her new senior trainer seemed to be playing it straight, following the game plan Howards had used, until he told her to hit the showers early. She was nearly done washing when Brestin came in. "Follow me, Hound. No, don't bother with a towel, you won't need it." Nude and dripping wet, she did what he said. He took her to a massage table, covered with a sheet. "Lay down on your back." He was still fully dressed when he pulled out his cock and put on a condom. "I've been waiting to get into your pussy, little girl," he said with a smirk. "You be nice, and nothing will happen to your little blue friend." She shivered in tension, and looked away when he climbed on top of her. He did nothing for her enjoyment; he just used her, thrusting firmly inside her until he was done. "That's a good girl. Mm, you got a sweet snatch. Maybe I'll bring Tyler along the next time we do this little exercise." He pulled off the condom and tossed onto her belly. He chuckled as he straightened his clothes. "You go get cleaned up, Hound. Don't wanna be late for dinner with your boyfriend." Her hands clenched into fists as he walked away. She picked up the soiled rubber and threw it into the trash. Murderous rage burned in her eyes when she went back to the shower room. * * * Kurt: By Major Rudolf's directive, they were to be treated like all the other Hounds. That included dinner in the Missions dining room. This was the one place mixed gender of Hounds were allowed to meet outside of the Socials. Kurt waited for her; anxious after a day without her presence. Brad scowled when he entered, stitches visible over one eye, and under the other. Kurt ignored him, and as soon as he saw her, he knew something was wrong. She stalked down the corridor, angry eyes flashing. "Katzchen?" She turned to him, her look softening, and gave him a brief hug. PDA wasn't permitted here, and no extended contact was allowed. They got their food and ate while talking. "The contingency... has happened," she said. "Brestin." He closed his eyes in pain. "Did he hurt you?" "No, not at all," she said. "Not at all." She sounded confused, angry, and... resentful? "Is anything else wrong?" She sighed. "No, love. And if this is the kind of thing that's going to happen, I can handle it. It makes me angry, but that's about it." He cocked his head in confusion, but she just shook hers. "I'll be okay," she said. "But just be aware, they've been given the go-ahead." "I will, liebe, not that there's anything I can do about it." "I know. Neither can I. We just have to live with it." * * * Kitty: "Joe... I thought of something that might help me." "Hey, if I can, sweets? What is it?" "Can you get me a journal, or some kind of blank book? I used to be able to talk to him about what was bugging me, but I see him so seldom, now." "You know that anything you write down, they can and will look at." "That's okay, I'll mostly be writing to myself, I guess. I just gotta get it out of my system and not let things curdle up inside of me." "Sure, I can do that. Come talk to me tomorrow." -- He gave her a package the next day. In it was a fat journal and a set of pens. They looked new, and she had the feeling he'd bought them special for her. While it was true they could and would read the book, they had to find it, first. When she wasn't actually writing in it, she kept it in his secret stash in the intersections of beams, high up in the Hull space. In it she could put all the things she needed to tell him, but that she didn't have the time or privacy to say. 'Dear Kurt, 'I know you were confused by how I was acting, but that just wasn't a good place to tell you what is really wrong. No, he didn't hurt me. It didn't last long enough to hurt, or for anything else, either. 'I've been spoiled by you, but in a good way. You always take such care to make sure that making love is always good for me that I had a skewed idea of what sex is. 'I thought it would always be good, and I didn't want that to happen with anyone but you. But... the bastard didn't do anything to me, or for me. He just used me to come in, and it was over when he was done. 'I guess... in a weird sick way, I was frustrated, and it's only going to get worse. He's using me as a sex object, and I can tolerate that, but it makes me miss you and your touch, so much... 'Nothing he does will change how I feel for you. 'I love you always, 'Kitty.' * * * Kurt: Kurt knew what was coming. First of all, Captain Brand, Vaile's friend from Psych was present for his training. Secondly, he could read the looks they were giving him during the session. When he was finished with the exercises and the weights, the junior trainer was dismissed. They followed him into the dressing room, and Vaile smiled coolly. "Hello, Blue. Now that you've worked so hard, it's time for a little play." They bracketed him. "Get undressed," Brand said. He took off his combat boots and gloves, and then took off his leathers. He stood there in his stark white protective cup. They giggled at the contrast it made against his dark fur. His tail twitched slightly from side to side, projecting his nervousness. "All of it," Vaile said when they could stop chuckling. He sighed and slipped the garment off, then straightening. Months living with Katzchen had cemented what his mother had always told him; that his form, though quite different, was beautiful in it's own way. He stood poised, unconscious grace and self-pride evident in his posture. He accentuated his differences, rising to the balls of his feet and flexing his rear toes. Any hope of repulsing them with his mutation was quickly dashed, when they reached in to stroke his body. Their hands rubbed through his nap, loosening where it had been matted flat by the leathers. He was unmoved by their attentions. He knew that the whole situation was false, that this abuse had been crafted by so-called psychologists as part of the continuing efforts to degrade and manipulate him. That fact turned him coldly off what was normally a sensual and erotic experience for him. "Well, look who's being a bad boy." Brand said. "We'll just have to work on that," Vail said. She rummaged in a carry-bag, and took out a choke collar and a leash. "You mustn't forget the lash," Brand said, grinning. "Oh, yes. The lash." Vaile pulled out a braided whip that was somewhere between a toy lash, and a real bullwhip. He sighed again. It was going to be a long time until dinner... * * * Kitty: 'Dear Love, 'There is blood on my hands again. I was on a mission with Brad, hunting down a rogue mutant. I could only barely sympathize with the guy. Mutants may be getting a raw deal, but that's no cause to be murdering school children. 'He called himself The Culler, the sick bastard. I guess he felt if he killed all the normal's children, all that would be left would be the mutants. All I could think about was that not too many years ago, I was one of the kids in the schoolyards. 'His power was heat force. Not fire, but sheer radiated heat, projected from his hands. I'm glad that you didn't come, 'cause fur is real flammable, and besides, you get along with Brad even worse than I do. We were taken to a morgue where they had one of the children's bodies. 'The boy was charred halfway through him, from where the guy had laid his hand on his head. That was enough for Mr. Stalker to get a read on his power, and started to track. After a while, we found him. 'Brad's charged nets did nothing to him; he just burned through them. He couldn't burn my knives, they must be heat-treated. I had to keep phasing to he couldn't blast me, and I couldn't get too close to him. Finally Brad caught him with a tear-gas grenade. (Watch out for him to use those, by the way, they're new.) 'I could put a dagger in his neck while he was rubbing his eyes. The neck wound kinda distracted him, and the Shield forces finally cut him down with their guns. The by-standers cheered Shield, but they only taunted us. They had to get us out of there in a hurry. Those people really hated mutants, and I couldn't really blame them for it. All those kids... 'I feel sorry for the guy; because of the way he was twisted by this warped society. But I could never condone what he was doing. So yes, I killed him. I'm not sorry about it either, he needed to be stopped. But on the other hand, I'm not happy about it, either. 'I hope you can understand this, 'Love, Kitty.' * * * Kurt: It had been a month since they were separated, and he'd been forbidden to attend the Social. After dinner on the Monday after, guards with their trunks confronted them. The senior one spoke to them. "By order of Major Rudolf, your assignments are being switched. You, are to go to the women's barracks, and you, are to go back to that hole in the wall of yours." Kitty smiled faintly at him, and left with the guard who'd brought her trunk. Kurt followed his back to the quarters below. It was mostly as he'd left it, but there were some things that told him of her loneliness. His comb and toothbrush were unmoved in all this time, just as he remembered. On their bed, his pillow was arranged to lie beside her, giving her some illusion of his presence. It wasn't until he went back to his accustomed perch on the beam that he found what she'd left for him. At the base of the steel column where he kept his stash of treasures, a pillow and blanket had been lashed to the beam with cord. Curious, he looked inside the nook, and found a plain thick book, and a collection of pens that hadn't been there before. Most of the book was filled with pages of blank lines. On the inside cover, was a note. 'Thank Joe for this gift, love, he got it for us. You were right, by the way, he is a sweetheart.' He settled down on the pillow with the book, breathing in the scent of her that clung to these things. He read the words she'd written to him, some of them colored by her anger and disgust at this place, and others full of her love and longing for him. He added to the collection of tearstains that marked the pages as he read. When he finished what she'd put there, he took one of the pens, and began to think of what to write back to her. He had so many things he needed to tell her. Brad, and the fight in the barracks, how he missed her in the night, and the thing with Vaile and Brand. 'Dear Katzchen, 'What a wonderful idea, and what a wonderful place to hide it. I have much to tell you about, since the last time we were able to speak freely to each other...' * * * Kitty: Another month, another transfer of assignments. It was draining both of them to live like this. She could see in the mirror, the way her face was drawn and shadowed. She saw it in him, too. He was rail thin, despite how much he ate, and his fur looked... patchy. No one grumbled about them getting privileges, anymore. It was obvious that the special attention directed at the two of them was nothing to envy. It was also clear that the only thing keeping them functioning even fairly normally, had been each other. The other Hounds shut up Brad when he made sarcastic comments, and there were ignored when they clung to each other during dinner. Someone in charge must have noticed, too, because their respective tormentors eased up on them a little. Kitty took a flashlight and a blanket to the beam. He had to have found the journal; this was his favorite place. She settled on her cushion, and opened the book with trembling hands. Yes! He'd found it, for there on the pages after hers were his thoughts, his feelings, and his responses to what she'd written. His spidery script was sometimes hard to read, and he had a habit of putting German vowel marks in words that didn't need them, but she could understand it well enough. His writing told her what the last two months had been like for him. She learned about the incident with Brad... why that snotty bully! He deserved those stitches. She hoped they hurt a lot. He also detailed his sessions with his own tormentors, and how they humiliated him, putting him on leash and collar. She read how much he loved and missed her. He didn't know what to say about her mission. What the man was doing was wrong, without doubt, but he wished there was some other way he could have been dealt with. Still, he accepted her, and always would. It was too late to write back to him tonight, so she put it away, and went to bed. On the bed stand was his remaining Old Spice, and a note. 'If they change us up again, as I think they will, use this on my pillow. That way you can keep my scent with you, as I kept yours with me.' Kitty cried, and sprinkled the cologne on his pillow, as he'd suggested. She hugged it fiercely to her as she fought her way to sleep. On to Act Three Back to Fanfic Index Back to Series Index Back to Main Page |