Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own any of the characters, as much as I'd like to. Curse you, Marvel!

Setting: Events take place after X-2, but before X-3.

Pairings: Technically a Bobby/Kitty friendship, but ventures slightly deeper at times.

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Things weren't going well for Bobby Drake.

Shuffling down a long-winded hallway on the mansion's second floor, Bobby decided that he'd best sulk in his room, lest he attract someone's attention. Carefully turning the doorknob to his bedroom, Bobby stepped inside and quietly shut the door.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Bobby couldn't help but feel terribly helpless and alone as memories hit him like a bullet train. Tears spilled freely down his cheeks as he placed his head in his hands. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Bobby couldn't help but feel terribly helpless and alone as memories hit him like a bullet train.

"Ronny, leave your brother alone!" his mother called from the window.

They were outside in the backyard, he and his brother, playing in the sandbox. Ronny had flung dirt at him, justifiably angry after Bobby had just destroyed his army of plastic men. The Indians had won indeed, mounting their stallions and charging the enemy when they least suspected it. The enemy was flabbergasted, not expecting such a surge of defiance from such inferior beings.

Though the victory was well-deserved, that didn't stop the opposition's leader from being a sore loser.

"He started it! He cheated!" Ronny turned back to him, forgetting about their mother. "You cheated! I hate you!"

I hate you. Those words scarred more than any others, regardless of when they were said. The context was clear, even for a six year-old boy. Ronny hated him.

Once Ronny had learned of Bobby's powers, it was a more distinct form of jealousy that kept them apart. Bobby had been able to do things Ronny wasn't, no matter how hard he tried. Before that, it had merely been Bobby's older age that threatened young Ronny. The gap between their ages had been a hurdle that Ronny's maturity could not overcome. It seemed like it was always just behind Bobby's, lagging slightly. Though, an argument could be made that Bobby's hadn't even left the starting line.

It just seemed that Bobby couldn't get on his brother's good side.

I hate you. Calling the cops had been the definitive straw that most certainly broke that poor camel's back. Ronny was willing to send him to prison. There was no reason to trust his brother after that, no reason to try and protect him or worry about his well-being.

Then why do I feel this way? Bobby shook his head, willing the memories to go away altogether. No one had heard of what had happened yet. Well, the Professor may have, Bobby wasn't quite sure. If he had, he was nice enough to not intervene. Bobby just needed to deal with this in his own way. He was sure he could do that much.

Knock, knock.

"Go away," Bobby murmured, hoping to keep his current sanctuary consolation-free for the time being. He'd locked the door when he'd closed it earlier just in case.

Just then, a head popped through the door. "I heard what happened…" Kitty's voice trailed off.

Bobby wondered how since he had been fortunate enough to answer the phone call himself, though doing so had ruined his flawless run through Halo 2. It didn't matter. When his parents had begun speaking, it was hard to focus on anything but just one fact: his brother was dead.

"Yeah, well, what can ya do?" Bobby grimaced. Not exactly the smartest response to a potentially traumatic situation. But it wasn't traumatic, was it? Ronny had hated him. Wanted him dead. Bobby had hated him back, hadn't he?

"It's okay, you know. I haven't exactly had anyone close to me…pass away, but things...they get better."

She was trying. She really was. Her face was hiding something beneath the surface. Worry, he guessed. Kitty had never met his brother, but that didn't stop her from trying to lift his spirits. He wondered if Rogue would have done this, had she not ended their relationship. Ever since Remy had shown up at the school, Rogue began to distance herself from him and draw ever closer to the new student. Their relationship didn't last much longer after that.

It didn't matter. Rogue wasn't here, Kitty was. He was feeling lonely, he noted absently. Maybe some companionship was a good thing. Besides, Kitty was still stuck halfway through the door.

"Come in, Kitty, before the door takes another one of your lives."

She smiled. "Oh? And what number would I be at now?"

His frown morphed into what most would call the classic Bobby Drake grin. Definitely the sort Sylvester would be wearing just before he attempted to catch himself a Tweety. "Well, after Jamie caught you with your hand in the cookie jar—literally, I might add—and after phasing through the floor when Jubes asked you how long you could hold your breath and you opened your eyes several miles underground, I'd say at least number three."

"Is that all?" she asked in a peculiar nonchalant fashion. Clearly she was trying to distract his attention. "I guess I'll have to be a little more reckless or I might live forever."

"Only until your curiosity gets the best of you," he threw back. He liked this. He'd never had this with Ronny, or anyone really since he came to the Institute. It disheartened him a little.

Kitty picked up on this. "Hey." She walked closer, placing her hand on his shoulder. "How're you feeling?"

He returned her stare. Concern filled her eyes. "I-I don't know." His gaze stayed with hers. A tilt of her head indicated for him to continue. "Ronny hated me. We were never the poster children for sibling relationships. I think…in some way…"

"You miss him," she interrupted. Her hand squeezed his shoulder, a comforting gesture. "It's understandable, Bobby. You two grew up together. Sure, you probably didn't have the best relationship, but he was family. Losing family always hurts."

He nodded, processing her words. Ronny was family, even if Bobby was reluctant to admit it. You mourned family. It was the principle of the matter.

"Bobby." Kitty's voice jostled him out of his thoughts. "We should get your mind off of it." Yeah, because that was easy. "Dinner and a movie?"

He forced a smile, hoping to appease her. "Nah, that's alright Kit. I think I'm gonna sit this one out. Getting tired." If he was lucky, the tactic of a retreat masked as exhaustion would be enough to satisfy her.

She glowered. Okay, definitely the wrong tactic. "How about no? Look, Bobby, I know you. You're going to hole yourself up in your room for a few days, eat a lot less than you usually do, and internalize everything. How about you blow off some of that disappointment and guilt and come with me downstairs to enjoy a fun-filled night of movie madness?"

How she'd learned to pick the perfect vocabulary to motivate him to the living room was beyond him. Kitty never said 'movie madness." Ever. She was clearly getting lessons from Hank is the art of Bobby-speak.

Judging by the determined look in her fiery eyes, there was no way he was getting out of this one. Bobby swallowed and opened his mouth, "Alright. One movie."

Her smile beamed at him. There were certainly other motives at hand here for her to be that happy.

He stood up and followed her out of the room. It was completely dark outside. Apparently he'd been in his room longer than he'd thought. Perhaps he'd borrowed some of Miss Munroe's powers…the night certainly reflected his mood at the moment. Ronny's death was weighing heavily on him. An incompetent driver and a bottle of scotch, or so he'd been told. I hate you. Shouldn't he be relieved at this sudden turns of events?

"Hey, stop lollygagging!" Kitty's voice floated down the hall in front of him. Again, she was attempting to make him feel better. He did, a little, but not much. "Excuse me, but Twinkies, four big bags of chips and a case full of soda are not going to consume themselves! Now hurry up, we've got a couple stomachs to fill."

Bobby picked up his pace, intending to do just as Kitty described. He'd forgotten that his last meal was breakfast, unless he counted that pretzel he found on the couch. Jubes was horrified when he ate it, of course, but there hadn't been any foreign substances on it—including hair—so he deemed it safe to eat. It was a remarkably satisfying pretzel, though the lack of salt was immediately apparent.

After the trek down the stairs, they exited the foyer and entered the living room. The television wasn't currently in use, a fact that didn't go unnoticed by Bobby. "Alright, where is everyone?" It was a known fact that with this many young adults in one building, there was no conceivable way the television couldn't already be in use, especially because it was before—Bobby glanced at his watch—eight o'clock at night. Now he was seriously freaked out.

Kitty caught on to his suspicion. She assuaged his worry immediately. "Don't worry, Frosty. It's Friday night. Camping trip, remember?"

And he'd totally forgotten about that. Scott and Logan—well, mostly Logan, but Scott insisted on 'actual' supervision—had volunteered to take the majority of the children camping in the nearby woods. Logan had been adamant about teaching the children how to survive on their own, if it ever came to that. Scott unquestionably agreed, but was very vocal when the topic changed to how far the children were allowed to venture without an adult.

"Hey," Kitty nudged him. He had to stop spacing out. "Ready?"

Confused, Bobby glanced at the table in front of the couch and gawked. She wasn't lying when she mentioned the amount of junk food waiting for them. And the sodas were in a cooler conveniently placed right next to Kitty's side of the couch. "Someone's been planning this moment for a while, hmm?" He leered at her, catching her face turn multiple different shades of red in embarrassment.

"What can I say," she replied," I like a good meal."

He plopped down next to her. "Uh huh," Bobby said, lifting up a bag of already-opened chips. "And did you eat that good meal before the movie watching?" He shook the bag, hearing a few crumbs shake together. She blushed. "Because," a grin spread across his face as he handed her the bag, "It looks to me like I've missed it."

Kitty folded her arms over each other. "Look, when a girl's hungry, she grabs what's closest."

"Hmm…" Bobby thought aloud, "That must explain Ororo's weight gain as of late…"

"No," Kitty argued, "It's definitely the stress."

"Touché," commented Bobby. "Now," he turned his attention to the television, "What exactly are we watching, oh feline one?"

"Well, let's see, we have horribly acted B-grade slasher films," Kitty held up "I Know What You Did Last Summer" and its sequels, "And a great deal of animated comedies," she replaced the horror movies with Shrek and its sequel. "The kids found the stash, so we're not left with a lot of options."

"Yeah," Bobby agreed, "We need a better selection. And, wait," Bobby raised a hand to his heart in mock astonishment, "No Halloween? But, that's the greatest slasher film of all time! I mean, really, we have to stick to its much blander successors? It's like substituting that really bland kind of Twinkies for regular Twinkies, or substituting radio for television, or substituting George Bush for Bill Clinto—wait, some things don't change…" Frustrated, Bobby pushed himself off the couch and headed in the direction of the TV stand.

"Well, someone's feeling determined." Kitty commented. Bobby was throwing things around now, tapes of some of the students playing outside; the fireworks display on the fourth of July (which Jubilee undoubtedly made more extravagant by adding her power into the fray. Scott had not been pleased when the lawn caught on fire); and even the school play, in which Bobby had played a very excited and mischievous Iago. It wasn't a coincidence that he took on a role that allowed him to dramatically plant seeds of manipulation.

By this time, he'd found what he was looking for and brandished a DVD in her direction. Kitty wasn't fooled one bit. His happiness was clearly forced, but she appreciated that he at least wanted to have a good time.

"No, someone's feeling liberated!" he exclaimed. At Kitty's confused look, Bobby held up a Friday the 13th movie, the original.

"I see," she said. "From one badly acted and directed movie to the next, then?"

"Oh please!" His exuberance was making Kitty nervous and excited at the same time. She enjoyed this side of him. "This," he accentuated by continually hitting the DVD case with his pointy finger, "Is a classic in every sense of the word! Sure, it's not the epitome of horror movie-making, nor is it the Oscar's wet dream, but it embodies the very definition of the horror genre!"

Kitty was pretty sure she knew what was coming, but went along anyway and asked, "And what qualities does it embody, precisely?"

"Well, let's see." So he was going to make a show of this. "It has females in skimpy clothing—no clothing at all in some parts—"

"No doubt," Kitty interjected. Upon his disapproving glare, she smiled sweetly and let him continue.

"As I was saying, scantily clad women; a giant, scary, no nonsense murderer who can't even DIE," he emphasized by gesticulating that last word wildly, and Kitty held her breath and hoped he'd forgotten about Ronny. "…and extremely gory death scenes." Kitty paled and hoped Bobby didn't notice her change in complexion.

"All very nice Bobby, but the killer isn't large and scary. It's Jason's mother in the first one, remember?"

Bobby's eyes widened at Kitty's response. "So you have seen the original! Would you look at that? A girl after my own heart." He swooned extravagantly.

"Now, now Romeo, Juliet's not that interested." Kitty laughed at his theatrics, glad that she'd gotten him out of whatever slump he was in, even if it was only for tonight. She'd certainly been eager for a night alone with Bobby, but under somewhat better circumstances. She opened up a bag of Salt & Vinegar.

"Juliet will be wondering where art her Romeo in a minute if she doesn't stop gobbling all the chips," Bobby admonished.

Kitty was getting very tired of her constant blushing. Only Bobby Drake could make one laugh and become extremely embarrassed the following second. "Perhaps Romeo should put the movie on and sit his arse down so he can join in?" she supplied, waving the bag of chips in his general direction.

"Montagues don't like to be taunted." He waggled his finger in the air. "Now, m'lady, let's stay tuned for our feature presentation." Bobby set the DVD into the player, grabbed the remote and jumped onto his end of the couch.

"Romeo sure does enjoy his films," Kitty commented dryly. "Perhaps he can be a little more helpful with volume control? Juliet is hard of hearing."

Bobby rolled his eyes and increased the volume on the television. As he pressed 'Play', the speakers boomed and vibrated loudly. Bobby thought he saw candlesticks on the mantel and pictures on the wall shaking wildly. Maybe he was just imagining that part. "You sure like it loud and…vibrating, don't you?" A sly smirk slowly grew on his face. Kitty paled again, for slightly different reasons this time. Bobby increased his voice to an alarmingly bad falsetto, "Oh, Mr. Killer, I seem to have dropped my panties! Please, let me bend down ever so slowly so you can catch up to me."

It was Kitty's turn to roll her eyes. As fun as Bobby was, he ventured into the area of 'perverted' way too often. Or perhaps immature was a better adjective to describe him. "Oh, no, I seem to have tripped and fallen! My legs have splayed into a very provocative position that I'm sure you enjoy!" Bobby continued. No, perverted. Definitely perverted.

As the movie progressed, Kitty kept her eye on Bobby. She was very concerned for him after the phone call. After he'd answered it, she had seen his face contort into pain and her mind immediately registered that something was wrong. Remembering that everyone in the mansion was accounted for (no shopping trips were planned because the camping trip was that night and Scott had made sure everything was ready yesterday), Kitty realized it must have been someone close to him. She had a brief encounter with the Professor in the hallway and, making sure no one was in the nearby vicinity, pressed for answers. The Professor, although reluctant, had ultimately given her the information regarding Bobby's distress. Considering Bobby was all alone when she found him, she figured the Professor would rather a social encounter cheer up Bobby. She was glad it was working.

"Hey, pass me over a drink, would you?" Bobby asked, holding out his hand towards her, but keeping his eyes glued to the screen in front of him. This was not her ideal version of a date, as if this was one. Kitty had outgrown most horror movies by the age of twelve and this one was no exception. Besides, if this was a date, her male counterpart was doing very little to show her any attention. It seems she was a third wheel to Bobby and the television set. "Drinky drink, please?" His hand shook in her direction.

Understanding the distress he was in earlier and knowing it would creep back up on him tomorrow morning, Kitty sighed and grabbed a drink from the cooler, not caring for which one it was. She placed it in his hand.

"Thanks doll." That cheered her up. Any attention was better than no attention, she guessed. Besides, Bobby had an affinity for movies. It's something she'd have to learn to put with if anything were to happen. Which was a hell of a thing to be thinking about now, but she couldn't seem to push the thought away completely.

"Damn." The drink fell on the floor. "Damn, damn, damn." Kitty quickly took note of the situation and realized what was wrong. Jason's mother had just made her first kill. Kitty flicked her attention to Bobby without delay and noticed his pale face, shocked expression and soda pop slowing rolling away, making a 'dink' as it hit one of the legs of the table. Ronny. Dead. Movie. Death. Not a good combination. She should have seen this coming.

"Bobby," she grasped his hands. He turned towards her slowly. "It's okay." She reached out with her right hand while he was still in shock and grabbed the remote, shutting the movie off. Her gaze returned to Bobby's.

"Ronny's dead," he said. He looked down. "He wasn't all bad, you know? I know you know about him from what Rogue and Logan said." She noticed he left out John, whom Bobby didn't seem to talk about anymore. She nodded, agreeing with his statement, trying to appease him. "We used to hang out a lot, me and Ronny. Walked to school together. Played hockey together, though, I must admit, I was a lot better at it than him." A bitter laugh escaped at the inside-joke. Bobby's powers undoubtedly helped him in that arena. Bad pun, she realized.

"I-I don't really know what to say, Bobby."

An awkward silence hung in the air. Bobby shifted, placing his back against the couch, keeping her hands in his. She placed her head on his shoulder. They settled into a more comfortable silence, listening to the sounds of the other breathing. It was almost peaceful.

"You were right, you know," Bobby's voice filled the room.

"About what?"

"Everything will be okay." He turned his head and stared appreciatively at her. "It always is, right?"

She gulped. Making promises like this were dangerous. Especially when they affected someone you cared about so greatly. "Right."

"I can do this," he said, pressing 'Play' on the remote before Kitty had a chance to stop him. "It's just a movie."

"Bobby, you don't have to—"

"Yes. Yes, I do. Ronny…he may not have wanted it now, but when we were younger, before I was a mutant…he would've wanted me to be happy. My parents want that too. I'll let them have it." He turned towards Kitty, placing his arm around her.

Kitty twisted her head to look at him. "You're not all there, you know that?"

Bobby solemnly stared back. "I know."

Kitty was defiant. "You will be."

He smiled relaxing. "I know."