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Prologue
He had to wake up...
Pete Wisdom fought his way back up to consciousness slowly, grimly, panicked determination warring against the drugs he could feel washing through his system, trying to pull him back down into oblivion... which seemed to imply pretty strongly that the attack was over. But he still had to wake up, he had to make sure Kitty was all right--
She was fine, though, so he didn't have to keep fighting, he could just relax and let go...
How could he know that? The very last thing he remembered seeing through the thick red haze of pain and panic overlaying his earlier happy alcoholic fog was Kitty facing down that hulking metal monster that had been busy beating the bleeding crap out of him, and he couldn't remember if he'd gotten off one last shot, the biggest he could manage, or if it had done any good--
But she was all right, he knew she was all right, so he could let go and fade into comforting oblivion again... how did he know that?
Forcing his eyes open to soft dim light still far too bright for his raging headache to manage, he found himself held down in a bed, with tubes gurgling and assorted mysterious equipment beeping around him. All too familiar sounds... a hospital? He bloody hated hospitals -- snippy nurses who'd only feed you healthy mush, snooty doctors who'd never tell you sod all, endless hours of alternating pain and boredom -- and they didn't let you smoke or drink, or even take a piss in decent privacy.
It took all his strength to turn his aching head slightly to see his restraints -- and he found his face turning into a cloud of thick chestnut hair, a familiar smell of the shampoo he'd used on her just... whenever... earlier that day before they'd gone to the pub and announced their new status to the others and they'd accepted him -- however reluctantly -- before they'd come back home and he'd stayed outside for a bit, for one last cigarette -- and he'd *felt* it even then, he'd *known* it was all too good to be true -- and then that fucking oversized robot or android or whatever-the-hell-it-was had stumbled into him and started beating the living shit out of him for no known reason, ranting and raving about whoever-the-hell his Katya was...
But Kitty was all right. His relief was so great, he almost blacked out again. But he forced himself to stay awake a bit longer, so he could revel in touching her, smelling her, seeing her... She was in bed with him, lying against his side. He could feel her long legs in that baggy soft denim he already knew she preferred pressed alongside his, and the one graceful, slender arm in his limited view lay draped across his chest. It took him quite a while longer, though, to figure out he couldn't feel her bare arm below the short-sleeved teeshirt she wore against his skin because there was the mother of all bandages wrapped around his sore torso.
Reassured about his new lover, his mind started its usual tortuous workings despite the pain. Had his attacker been sent by Black Air? Maybe as payback for his destroying their Dream Nails base a day or two earlier? He knew his erstwhile employers wouldn't hesitate to sanction him after his emphatic -- if more than a bit unconventional -- recent resignation. There'd been more than enough time for them to lay that on in the past day or two... but he'd never heard even a hint or rumour of Black Air having such an enforcer. Had he brought disaster down on Kitty and Excalibur by coming back here afterwards? Was that why the monster had gone after Kitty, because she'd gone with him to Dream Nails, helped him destroy it? Had Black Air tried to sanction her too? They had all of WHO's old files, they'd have known all of her strengths... and weaknesses...
No, Kitty didn't seem hurt -- she was breathing deeply, regularly... sound asleep. And she wouldn't be in bed with him if she was hurt. This wasn't some third-rate shoestring operation way out in the field, they wouldn't have to put two patients in the same bed... She was in the bed with him because she wanted to be with him -- and that touched him more than he could ever have imagined.
Part of him still wondered what had happened, but most of him didn't care at the moment, just as long as Kitty wasn't in any immediate danger. There'd be time enough later, to debrief, and analyze, and plan. Right now, he used the very last of his strength to bring his arm on that side up and around her, and gratefully let himself pass out again.
Continued in Part 1... Kitty and Kurt