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Anything he can think of to respond with seems like it would only cause an argument, which is not what he wants to do. So, instead, he stands there rather awkwardly, curling his arms a bit more and shifting from one foot to the other. "From what I could tell, it didn't seem like it."

He's still somewhat timid about doing so, but he meets York's gaze, trying to think of what he could offer the older male for reassurance. Coming up empty-handed is disappointing and not what usually happens in his case; Kurt almost always has some words of comfort or motivation and yet, he can't think of a single thing to say.

"Armor?" he queries, attention turning to York's discarded protective plating, "Like yours?" The idea intrigues him and maybe, if he knew more about how people might shoot at him, he'd probably be less thrilled about it. Even if they did get him armor, what were they going to do about his tail, though?

"Come on and sit down, try and unwind a little. We should be safe here." At least for now. No one seemed to pay them much mind riding past despite Kurt's appearance. When Kurt sits, York's hand comes up to rub his back comfortingly. They're alright.

"Yeah, armor like mine. I don't know if it'd fit you right but we'll have to try or you can't really leave the apartment." He gives a guilty grimace. "People here aren't super accepting."

York offering for him to sit is something that brings great relief; Kurt hasn't caused too much of an upset with his out of the blue (pun intended?) appearance and the hand stroking over his back in a reassuring manner seems to solidify this. He slinks over and all but flops beside the other, oomph'ing at the initial contact of his rear on the edge of the mattress. Both of them of here, unharmed and unnoticed. Everything should be fine.

"Oh, that's ..." It's not exactly okay that people aren't accepting, but this isn't his world and he shouldn't cause trouble. "... I can always stay inside, if that ends up being our only option. Hiding this--" he pauses to motion to the tail twitching across the bed, "--might prove to be somewhat difficult."

"I'd like to have an option for you, is all. Maybe you could wrap it around your waist if you're only wearing the suit for a little while? I now it wouldn't be comfortable, but... it might work." He drops his hand from Kurt's back to touch the tail, see how flexible it is. He's never done so before and is curious now.

"Understandable, ja. I could loop it around my torso for a bit. It's certainly flexible enough to stay in place, as long as I keep it compressed and such." Automatic instinct tells him to tense at the touch on his tail, golden irises dilating in surprise, his cheeks flushing indigo with embarrassment. "S-Sorry, it's, uhm ... rather sensitive."

"Oh, sorry." He pulls his hand back. "Guess there was a reason I never did that before, huh? Anyway... yeah, worth a try. The suits aren't tight exactly but they should keep things in place. I know where there's a guy who won't ask questions about getting the gloves altered, too."

"It's okay. I mean, I didn't tell you about it or anything ... Finding a comfortable position for my tail shouldn't be hard and once it's done, the suit should do the rest with keeping it held down."

His hands lift to scrub over his face, thumbs lingering at the scars on his cheeks before he lowers them to stare at his palms. "Convenient," he murmurs, trying to keep his tone from dipping, but he can't help feeling like he's messed everything up.

"...what is it?" York can tell something's upsetting Kurt, and it could be one of a million things right now to be honest. Their situation is far from ideal. "Besides being in the middle of a warzone instead of safe at home."

"Aside from that?" He curls his hands, the tips of his claws threatening the skin of his palms. "It's like I've messed everything up," Kurt murmurs, lifting his fists to press over his eyes. "Like I've derailed something important."

York just breathes for a moment. In a way, Kurt is right. Except that if he knew what he'd derailed he'd probably be all for it.

"You... changed things. You know how Tex was from my future? She told me what was going to happen and it wasn't this. Wasn't you showing up and me leaving the base. I was ready for something else, I'd prepared for it, and now things are going to be different. But that's it. And it's not your fault."

Of course he'd want to avoid York's death. What person in their right mind wouldn't?

Little Blue releases a huff of his own, lowering both hands to grip his knees and straightening as much as he can manage. York is absolutely right, though-- he can't linger on something that he never had the ability to prevent or change. "... what are your plans now?" Seems to be the only thing he can bring himself to ask.

"...I don't know," York admits, shrugging. "Contact Tex, make sure she was okay without me. Then just... back to what I was doing, I guess. Running from the Project. They're still hunting us, trying to get our AIs back. And there's the Meta." He tilts his head, voice turning careful. "Did I ever tell you about it?"

Kurt shakes his head, upper-half straightening as inquisitiveness floods his features. "No, you haven't." Nothing stopping York now, since it would seem like they have all the time in the world. (For now, that is.)

"Tell me all about it," he urges earnestly, dipping forward and flashing a halfhearted grin. It may not seem enthusiastic, but he's sincere at the very least.

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