"Hey, babe." Standing, daffodils in hand. One foot scuffing the ground. "I, uh, I'm sorry I took so long getting here."

Yellow light on yellow flowers.

"Only, I just... I just found out. It..." Trailing off. The flowers lift as if to be offered, and then fall back helplessly. "I couldn't believe it. When I heard, I mean. You... it... I just never thought it'd happen like this. I always thought... you and me, you know, I thought we'd work something out. After."

Cloud in the sky. Rain? No. Clear. It's sunny and warm here, a blip of sweetness in a world that seems so bitter lately.

"I'm kind of a dumbass, I guess. There, see? I admit to it. You never got me to admit to it before."

Dust flying, dust and plaster and concrete. And body parts, but she avoids those. Tries not to see them. She wonders briefly what the hell they're doing, and then doesn't have time to wonder. It's the second war, and the Brotherhood hasn't given up yet. Phase! Phase, now! Duck under and grab! Knee in the groin, THERE, and run run run!

"I brought you flowers. Daffodils. You like those, right? They kind of remind me of you. Bright. Happy. Only... I guess you weren't too happy, were you? Not... not when..."

Too many, too many! She promised to get out all right. She promised Wolvie to get out all right, and she's not going to. Not. It doesn't surprise her. Oh! Noise! What was that? Aah, it hurts, hurts, too loud, too loud! No! Wait, slam, curve under and come out below and up and above and nothing makes sense and what's going on? What's that sting? Sting? What sting? Is there a-

Oh.

Needle in the neck. Gun. Firing? Fire? Flames? Is it him, then? She's falling, falling, confused. Hurts. Bombs going off, laughing at her. A needle. Has he come? Has he come for her yet?

"I'm sorry, babe. I'm so fucking sorry for all of this." Drop to knees, hands out, flowers spilling. Head ducking, bandages white against tan skin. "I would have come. I wanted to. I was going to come and find you. We could have gone to... to..."

Cold earth between splayed fingers.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't supposed to! Damn it, why did it have to- it was supposed to be me all along! It should have- I should have- been there."

Name. Her name? Someone screaming her name. Hoarse, shouting, pleading. Where are you? Kitty? Where are you?! She wants to yell back, I don't know. I don't know. Tell me where? She can't. Can't speak. And then comes the loud noise again and it's crumbling, buildings, concrete, a dead woman falling on her and she moves away oh god gotta get away from the dead woman can't phase why not oh yeah needle in the neck got me with the needles and the oh fuck shit no bomb it's all coming down on me and John John John

"You know the funniest thing? Bobby told me. Bobby! God damn him. God damn him to hell forever and ever and god, Kitten, it hurt so fucking bad." Tears. Flowers, forgotten, catch the salt with yellow petals and drink away the sorrow.

"I miss you. I miss you so much. I didn't even fight the second war. I left. I was through. I was... I was getting straightened out, babe, just like we talked about. I was gonna... you... Why did you do it? Why did you have to go play hero? You could have stayed! You should have stayed! Kitty, you didn't have to fight it. Why did you have to fight it?!" Fist slamming to the ground. One daffodil is crushed.

"I didn't even get to go to... They didn't even tell me... They KNEW, dammit! They KNEW we talked! They KNEW we were going to... that we were going to work it out. Or... did you tell them? Did you tell them what you told me?" More tears now, rage and pain coursing to the earth. "One time, baby. Just one time, and you got... We were going to be parents. You said, "Get straightened out, Johnny, and I'll come with you." Still can't believe you got pregnant. You were- you were fucking PREGNANT with my child, and you still had to go and- why, babe? Why'd you have to..."

Big sigh.

"I wish I could have gone to your funeral, sweetheart. I wish so bad I could have gone. They never... you know they never found you? Under all the wreck, I mean. You got shot. With the cure thing. I guess you know that, since you were there and all, but... I just... I never expected it to be you. You were... you were the best of all, baby, and it was all going to be perfect. Me and you. Our kid. Fucking ruined."

A siren in the distance. Voices. Shouts.

"Shit. I gotta... Look, I swear I was going straight. I was. I am. I'm as straight as I've ever been, and that's saying something. But... you know... they don't forget, do they? No one ever forgets. And I... I won't forget, either, sweetheart. Certain sure, right? Certain sure I won't forget. I gotta go. Oh, god, babe, I miss you, but I gotta-" Up and running, murmuring three words again and again and again.

"I love you, I love you, I love-"

Police, trampling sacred ground and shouting to each other across the field. Searching. One calls out, raising an arm.

They flock.

Stare, grumble, curse, roll eyes, get ready to start searching all over again.

Daffodils, one crushed, lie abandoned on a grave.

'Kitty Pryde', reads the headstone. 'She Saved Many, And Was Loved By More'.

"Well, gawddammit," says one cop. "I thought for sure we had the little bastard this time."

"I know. That Drake kid was so certain he'd be here."

"Well, he WAS," says a third, coming up to stare at the flowers. "Leaving daffodils on some chick's grave. Or maybe he hired someone else to do it. Draw us off the track."

"Yeah, that's prolly it," the first officer grunts. "Gawd knows this Pyro loon ain't got enough of a heart to bring anything to anyone's grave, much less flowers." Laughter.

"Yeah. Crazy murdering mutie. Well, he got us good this time. This time."

"We'll catch 'em. We always do."

"Yep."

Long after they are gone, the flowers remain.

Eventually, a young boy wandering through the cemetery finds them and gathers them up, smiling happily. His mother will love these.

So bright.

So happy.

He hurries home.