Title: Say Yes
Summary: Set at the beginning of my "Stars in December" timeline, Kitty is now leading the X-Men and is reunited with a certain Brit on a suicide mission.
Notes: This is a few years down the line, and I took some liberties. Piotr aint dead, Pete never had his run on X-Force and Kitty never went off to college. This is just the first in my timeline so enjoy and remember to send feedback to glittergrr@yahoo.com. Thanks!
Say Yes
****
His recently polished shoe crushed out the last embers of his cigarette against the tarmac and he instantly lit a new one. Back to back cigs was not good; it meant he was nervous, and he hated acting nervous. But how could he not be nervous? How could one man, picked by MI-6 to lead the X- Men on a suicide mission the next day not be nervous?
And to make it even that much more nerve-wracking were the facts that his ex-girlfriend and her psychotic ex-boyfriend were two of the lead members of the team. Jesus f'ing Christ.
The jet touched down several feet from him, and he was disgusted with himself at the amount of nerves he felt, crawling around his stomach and in his throat. She's only a girl, he thought to himself. A young girl. A beautiful young girl who broke your heart- Stop it, stop it, stop it. He tried to think of something that would keep his mind off his anxiety over her, off the importance of her but everything he thought of kept bringing him back to her.
The first off was Rasputin, and Pete knew that this was intentional on the Russian's part. It was also intentional that he was armored up, his steel form shining in the early morning sun. Pete winced, reminded of how that armored steel felt against his body, how it shined in the moonlight as it broke his ribs. Just as he couldn't help but feel anxious over Kitty, the taste of bile and a hot rage rose up whenever he saw Rasputin.
The second off was Rachel Summers, the misplaced Phoenix from a different time line. She strutted down the runway, smiling at him and he felt a flicker of a genuine welcome in his brain. He did his best to smile back at him, hoping that she would recognize his half grimace as friendly. He felt he knew Rachel already, from all of Kitty's stories of their time together. Oh God, it always came back to Kitty didn't it?
Marrow and Chamber were next, the Morlock girl grimacing as the light sleepily while Jono breathed in the British air deeply. Pete remembered what he had read about them, how the two had formed an uneasy sort of friendship with their distaste of the 'pretty ones'. Iceman was right behind them, bouncing with coffee-induced energy, the punch line of some joke fading as he threw it over his shoulder. Pete knew who Drake was talking to. Pete knew who the only one left was.
And there she was. The one he had been dying to see, the one who now killed him with just one look.
Kitty.
God, she was beautiful. Even standing there in that ridiculous body condom, an X on her belt branding her, flanked by people who failed in life but were good in a fight, she was still the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.
She looked up at him once, their eyes meeting briefly, and then she looked away. He could have sworn that he heard Rasputin growl at her side. Pete began talking before any of them had a chance.
"Alright you wankers, I'm Wisdom, your MI-6 liaison on this suicide run. No need in introducing yourselves, I've read all your files. Pryde, you're in charge, right? Good. You'll be working directly under me." He sneered at her with that comment, the anger of how she had left him bubbling up in that innuendo. Another animal like noise came from Rasputin's mouth. "The rest of you will be following Pryde's orders. Stay in line. Listen to Pryde and Pryde, listen to me. Now you aint in the bleedin' states anymore, and we don't have quite as much money to burn, so cover your body condoms up and get on the train. You'll be briefed later."
Pete stormed off, leaving behind a group of X-Men with their mouths hanging open. Just before he stepped on board, he heard Kitty telling the rest of them to listen to Wisdom, and Marrow snort with approval.
He sat in his car, hoping to god that no one would come and disturb him, that they would all have enough sense to realize he was better off left alone. As soon as the train set off, he knew he wasn't going to be that lucky.
Rasputin bumbled into the car, his unarmored form awkwardly swaying in the train. Pete raised an eyebrow at the ungraceful man, wishing that maybe Rasputin was just looking for the WC.
"It is good to see you again, Wisdom."
Nope, this wasn't a toilet break. Pete sighed, pulled out a cigarette and lit it up as Rasputin sat across from him, making sure to blow some smoke in the Russian's direction.
"I'm bloody sure it is," he grumbled.
Pete noticed that Rasputin looked happy. In fact, he was positively beaming. This did not make Pete happy. Pete braced himself, unsure of what Rasputin wanted but knew it couldn't be good.
Rasputin continued to smile, leaning back comfortably in his seat. "No hard feelings, eh comrade?"
Pete chocked out a laugh. "For what, you nearly breaking every bone in my bleedin' body?"
A small frown crossed Rasputin's face, but was quickly replaced with the same empty smile. "No-have you not heard?"
"Heard what?" He exhaled a ring of smoke distinctly in the Russian's face.
"About Katya."
Pete grimaced. Nothing good was going to come from this conversation. "Katya?"
Rasputin frowned again, annoyed that Pete was deflating some of the fun out of the situation. "Kitty, yes- after you two broke up, we rekindled our love. We are now together."
For a second, Pete's heart seized. Then he looked up at the Russian and his fake smile and saw through it. Piotr didn't have a chance in hell with Kitty. Right?
He played along, frowning as he studied his cigarette. "Sorry mate, I don't keep up with the bloody Xavier soap opera."
Now it was time for Rasputin's heart to seize. "No? Funny. Kitty has kept up with your news."
Pete looked up and smiled his first genuine smile in many months, taking a long drag from his cigarette. "Don't worry, comrade, I'm sure its nothing. But if we're being realistic here, then- well, no hard feelings, right?"
Pete sneered as Rasputin stormed out of the train car, nearly knocking down an approaching Rachael. She darted out of his way, shaking her head at his retreating back. Pete wondered idly if Rasputin ever received adequate mental health and if he was really all that different from the monster that had nearly killed him in a jealous rage.
"The answer is no and no," Rachel said, perching delicately across from Wisdom, smiling.
He stubbed out a cigarette. "Been peaking around in my head, have you?"
"Just a bit. Don't worry, I like what I see." She shrugged slightly, leaning forward. "You're much better for my Kitty than that overgrown tin can."
"Finally, someone who speaks my language," Pete growled. He reminded himself to increase his mental shields. "What can I do for you, Rachael?"
She abruptly stopped smiling and huddled close to him, whispering like a co- conspirator. "Listen to me. Kitty hasn't been Kitty lately. Ever since she got back from England and Excalibur, she's been different. It's like someone hammered her mean streak right out of her. She's prone to long spells of self-pity, especially after- well, after her father died. She's competent; she'll pull this mission off without a problem. But you have to listen to me when I tell you that you should try to keep her here, away from America at all costs."
She stopped and Pete looked her over. Rachel sighed and leaned back in her seat. "You think I'm crazy, don't you?"
Pete made his grimace smile again. "No. I was just thinking how relieved I am that I'm not a member of all of this angst and craziness."
Rachel gave him a genuine relieved smile. "That's what I'm saying. Can't you keep Kitty out of it all too?" She stood up to leave, leaning in close his ear before he went. "I know you still love her." And then she left.
Pete had the largest headache he'd had in years, and he had only spent an hour or so with them. Looking over at the three unopened pack of cigarettes he had, he realized that they weren't going to be enough.
****
Wisdom sighed, exiting the briefing room as fast as he could. All of the others were too bloody happy. Why didn't they realize that they were going to die tomorrow, that there was no way in hell they would be able to survive? The bleedin' X-Men got too used to miracles, he realized. Well, they would be smacked in the face by reality hard enough tomorrow.
Wearily, he opened the door to his room and was surprised to see Kitty there, leaning against a dresser, smiling nervously. They hadn't talked personally at all. Pete was almost hoping they wouldn't have it. But she had obviously phased through the building, making sure to get there before Pete. No avoiding it now. Something Rachel had said suddenly floated through his mind.
"You're not Kitty."
She cocked an eyebrow at that. "Nice to see you too."
"Sorry. Was somethin' one of your mates said to me." He gave her his most indifferent face. "Can I help you, Pryde? Want to go over the mission plan again?"
She sighed, shook her head. "Not particularly. What we have is the best we can come up with." She shrugged. "But don't think I'm too idealistic that this is going to be easy."
"What do the others think?"
There was a heavy sigh from Kitty. "Most of them are in their own world. I think Jono may be the only one who really understand how screwed we are. Of course, he's got a death wish so it really doesn't bother him."
He looked at her, her head bowed in silence, deep regret and he realized that she was different. She had grown up. He walked across the room, kicking his shoes off, throwing his jacket on the bed.
"How's Rasputin?" He didn't want to know.
She shrugged, and he was glad to see such indifference when his name was mentioned. "He keeps proposing."
Shit. A muscle in his heart twitched. Keep it light, you're just friends. "Should I get used to calling you Katya?" He sat down heavily on the bed, looking across at her.
She started, her head jerking up to look at him, surprised. She saw the glint in his eyes and smiled. "Don't you bloody dare."
He couldn't help it again. His face cracked into a smile. "There's me girl."
Quiet. Just breathing.
"Why did you leave, Pete?" her voice was like whisper but it was something that both of them were waiting to hear for years.
"Oi Pryde, I was hoping we wouldn't do this. I was hoping we were above this."
She scowled at him. "Well, I'm obviously not. Maybe you are, but that's a question that's been nagging at me for years now."
He shrugged, playing it causal. "Figured you didn't need me anymore. Didn't want to over-stay my welcome."
"Pete, you are so full of shit." His head snapped up, looking at the angry young woman in front of him. "You took the first excuse you had, the first chance to reaffirm that your life was shit and you didn't deserve any kind of normalcy or happiness."
He blinked. "Well, there's that too." An eyebrow cocked, he continued in a louder voice, "I thought you said that it was a question that nagged at you for years."
"Yeah, well, you don't think about something for years without getting SOME answers." She looked up at him with wide eyes. "Don't you want to ask me why I did what I did?"
He shrugged. "Not particularly."
"We broke up for the dumbest reasons," she said. He looked at her, watching how she leaned against the dresser, how she shifted uncomfortably in her spandex outfit. Kitty didn't have to say a word. He already knew all of her reasons; he had spent months figuring them out. It didn't hurt any less.
"It would never have worked anyway." He took a long drag from his cigarette as she blinked at him, obviously looking for an explanation. "Your family of bleedin' body condoms would have had me in traction before our first anniversary."
She smiled slightly, lowering her head in a kind of agreement. His heart sunk, sad that she hadn't disagreed even if they both knew it was the truth.
"We might die tomorrow," she said, her voice flat. Her tone didn't surprise him; he knew the sound of a reluctant acceptance.
"We'll *probably* die tomorrow," he corrected, his cigarette nodding between his lips.
Suddenly, she looked up again, her eyes large, biting on her lip. "And that's why I want to sleep with you tonight."
Thank God for all those years of training, of keeping emotions in check. If he hadn't had those, he probably would have spit his cigarette across the room in shock. "Pryde-" he started.
She stood up straight, moving a hand in a silencing gesture. She walked over to him, sitting next to him on the bed. He looked into her eyes and knew he would not be able to say no, that he was gone.
"I need something real tonight, something to hold on to. Something to anchor me one last night before tomorrow, before all hell breaks loose." She was so achingly vulnerable. "And, and- I've missed you."
"Pryde, I don't think that's the best idea-"
"It doesn't have to mean anything, Pete. I know how these things work. Just one night. I won't think it means more and get weird, I promise." She gave him a lopsided grin. He felt like crying. That wasn't what he meant at all.
But what could he say?
The speed at which he stumbled towards her surprised them both and embarrassed him. He was needy, desperately pressing his lips against hers, holding her close to his body. He smiled, thankful for small miracles: she still tasted the same. She looked up at him, breathless but aware of his cold skin.
"Pete? Are you okay? You're shaking."
"I'm scared." He breathed deeply. "I don't care."
*****
He watched her sleep, her lithe bare chest rising and falling perfectly. Every second it was still, his heart was cold, warmed only when he saw her breasts rise again. This was the earliest he had been up in a long time, let alone up and feeling genuinely happy. He wanted to kiss the sun, make love to the world as beautifully as she had made to him the night before. She was perfect, the morning was perfect, and everything was perfect.
They were all going to die today and that was perfect.
Let me die happy. Please God, let me die happy and with her. But what if he didn't die? What if they lived? Then she would go back to the State, eventually get worn down and married to Comrade Rustbucket, led the X-Men, have commie children and forget all about him. Just because he didn't have the guts to tell her that it wasn't just a one night thing, not just a one time thing, not if she wanted it to be. She could even make an honest man out of him. If only she said yes.
She stirred, her back arching in a stretch and he saw a thousand images of her back arched from the night before, like a crescent moon.
"Morning, luv." His tongue tripped over the last word, nervous with boyish hopefulness. But a deep part of him knew he was not going to say anything, he was not going to ask her.
He paused. Now or never. Just say the words. Don't be fake, don't make pleasantries, just ask her flat out, tell her that you need her.
"Sleep well?" His voice sounded fake, but only to him.
She smiled up at him and blinked her liquid brown eyes.
"Yes."
*****
They lived. A few broken bones here and there, but they were all alive. Pete had stood on the tarmac long after their plane had disappeared into the sky, long after he couldn't feel his feet anymore in the freezing British air. Long after the last trace of Kitty's scent had been devoured by cigarette smoke and jet engine fluid.
And it was long after that his mouth was finally able to move again, finally able to make the motions of the question that he had never asked, the question he would never know the answer of.
It was long after she was gone that he had finally moved any part of his body, to wipe away the one stubborn tear that was threatening to escape after her.
*****
I'm in love with the world Through the eyes of a girl Who's still around the morning after
We broke up a month ago Then I grew up I didn't know I'd be around The morning after
It's always been wait and see A happy day and then you pay And feel like shit the morning after
But now I feel changed around And instead of falling down I'm standing up the morning after
Situations get fucked up And turned around sooner or later
I could be another fool or an exception to the rule You tell me the morning after
Crickets spin can't come to rest I'm damaged bad at best She'll decide what she wants
I'll probably be the last to know No one says until it shows See how it is...
They want you or they don't
Say yes-Elliot Smith
****** I updated this just a few days after Elliot's appaerant suicide, so this is extra melancholy for me right now. I have a whole lot of ideas of where to go with this, but before I bother, I would like to know if anyone's interested. It's hard to be all angsty when no one's listening, yo. ( So review please!
Summary: Set at the beginning of my "Stars in December" timeline, Kitty is now leading the X-Men and is reunited with a certain Brit on a suicide mission.
Notes: This is a few years down the line, and I took some liberties. Piotr aint dead, Pete never had his run on X-Force and Kitty never went off to college. This is just the first in my timeline so enjoy and remember to send feedback to glittergrr@yahoo.com. Thanks!
Say Yes
****
His recently polished shoe crushed out the last embers of his cigarette against the tarmac and he instantly lit a new one. Back to back cigs was not good; it meant he was nervous, and he hated acting nervous. But how could he not be nervous? How could one man, picked by MI-6 to lead the X- Men on a suicide mission the next day not be nervous?
And to make it even that much more nerve-wracking were the facts that his ex-girlfriend and her psychotic ex-boyfriend were two of the lead members of the team. Jesus f'ing Christ.
The jet touched down several feet from him, and he was disgusted with himself at the amount of nerves he felt, crawling around his stomach and in his throat. She's only a girl, he thought to himself. A young girl. A beautiful young girl who broke your heart- Stop it, stop it, stop it. He tried to think of something that would keep his mind off his anxiety over her, off the importance of her but everything he thought of kept bringing him back to her.
The first off was Rasputin, and Pete knew that this was intentional on the Russian's part. It was also intentional that he was armored up, his steel form shining in the early morning sun. Pete winced, reminded of how that armored steel felt against his body, how it shined in the moonlight as it broke his ribs. Just as he couldn't help but feel anxious over Kitty, the taste of bile and a hot rage rose up whenever he saw Rasputin.
The second off was Rachel Summers, the misplaced Phoenix from a different time line. She strutted down the runway, smiling at him and he felt a flicker of a genuine welcome in his brain. He did his best to smile back at him, hoping that she would recognize his half grimace as friendly. He felt he knew Rachel already, from all of Kitty's stories of their time together. Oh God, it always came back to Kitty didn't it?
Marrow and Chamber were next, the Morlock girl grimacing as the light sleepily while Jono breathed in the British air deeply. Pete remembered what he had read about them, how the two had formed an uneasy sort of friendship with their distaste of the 'pretty ones'. Iceman was right behind them, bouncing with coffee-induced energy, the punch line of some joke fading as he threw it over his shoulder. Pete knew who Drake was talking to. Pete knew who the only one left was.
And there she was. The one he had been dying to see, the one who now killed him with just one look.
Kitty.
God, she was beautiful. Even standing there in that ridiculous body condom, an X on her belt branding her, flanked by people who failed in life but were good in a fight, she was still the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.
She looked up at him once, their eyes meeting briefly, and then she looked away. He could have sworn that he heard Rasputin growl at her side. Pete began talking before any of them had a chance.
"Alright you wankers, I'm Wisdom, your MI-6 liaison on this suicide run. No need in introducing yourselves, I've read all your files. Pryde, you're in charge, right? Good. You'll be working directly under me." He sneered at her with that comment, the anger of how she had left him bubbling up in that innuendo. Another animal like noise came from Rasputin's mouth. "The rest of you will be following Pryde's orders. Stay in line. Listen to Pryde and Pryde, listen to me. Now you aint in the bleedin' states anymore, and we don't have quite as much money to burn, so cover your body condoms up and get on the train. You'll be briefed later."
Pete stormed off, leaving behind a group of X-Men with their mouths hanging open. Just before he stepped on board, he heard Kitty telling the rest of them to listen to Wisdom, and Marrow snort with approval.
He sat in his car, hoping to god that no one would come and disturb him, that they would all have enough sense to realize he was better off left alone. As soon as the train set off, he knew he wasn't going to be that lucky.
Rasputin bumbled into the car, his unarmored form awkwardly swaying in the train. Pete raised an eyebrow at the ungraceful man, wishing that maybe Rasputin was just looking for the WC.
"It is good to see you again, Wisdom."
Nope, this wasn't a toilet break. Pete sighed, pulled out a cigarette and lit it up as Rasputin sat across from him, making sure to blow some smoke in the Russian's direction.
"I'm bloody sure it is," he grumbled.
Pete noticed that Rasputin looked happy. In fact, he was positively beaming. This did not make Pete happy. Pete braced himself, unsure of what Rasputin wanted but knew it couldn't be good.
Rasputin continued to smile, leaning back comfortably in his seat. "No hard feelings, eh comrade?"
Pete chocked out a laugh. "For what, you nearly breaking every bone in my bleedin' body?"
A small frown crossed Rasputin's face, but was quickly replaced with the same empty smile. "No-have you not heard?"
"Heard what?" He exhaled a ring of smoke distinctly in the Russian's face.
"About Katya."
Pete grimaced. Nothing good was going to come from this conversation. "Katya?"
Rasputin frowned again, annoyed that Pete was deflating some of the fun out of the situation. "Kitty, yes- after you two broke up, we rekindled our love. We are now together."
For a second, Pete's heart seized. Then he looked up at the Russian and his fake smile and saw through it. Piotr didn't have a chance in hell with Kitty. Right?
He played along, frowning as he studied his cigarette. "Sorry mate, I don't keep up with the bloody Xavier soap opera."
Now it was time for Rasputin's heart to seize. "No? Funny. Kitty has kept up with your news."
Pete looked up and smiled his first genuine smile in many months, taking a long drag from his cigarette. "Don't worry, comrade, I'm sure its nothing. But if we're being realistic here, then- well, no hard feelings, right?"
Pete sneered as Rasputin stormed out of the train car, nearly knocking down an approaching Rachael. She darted out of his way, shaking her head at his retreating back. Pete wondered idly if Rasputin ever received adequate mental health and if he was really all that different from the monster that had nearly killed him in a jealous rage.
"The answer is no and no," Rachel said, perching delicately across from Wisdom, smiling.
He stubbed out a cigarette. "Been peaking around in my head, have you?"
"Just a bit. Don't worry, I like what I see." She shrugged slightly, leaning forward. "You're much better for my Kitty than that overgrown tin can."
"Finally, someone who speaks my language," Pete growled. He reminded himself to increase his mental shields. "What can I do for you, Rachael?"
She abruptly stopped smiling and huddled close to him, whispering like a co- conspirator. "Listen to me. Kitty hasn't been Kitty lately. Ever since she got back from England and Excalibur, she's been different. It's like someone hammered her mean streak right out of her. She's prone to long spells of self-pity, especially after- well, after her father died. She's competent; she'll pull this mission off without a problem. But you have to listen to me when I tell you that you should try to keep her here, away from America at all costs."
She stopped and Pete looked her over. Rachel sighed and leaned back in her seat. "You think I'm crazy, don't you?"
Pete made his grimace smile again. "No. I was just thinking how relieved I am that I'm not a member of all of this angst and craziness."
Rachel gave him a genuine relieved smile. "That's what I'm saying. Can't you keep Kitty out of it all too?" She stood up to leave, leaning in close his ear before he went. "I know you still love her." And then she left.
Pete had the largest headache he'd had in years, and he had only spent an hour or so with them. Looking over at the three unopened pack of cigarettes he had, he realized that they weren't going to be enough.
****
Wisdom sighed, exiting the briefing room as fast as he could. All of the others were too bloody happy. Why didn't they realize that they were going to die tomorrow, that there was no way in hell they would be able to survive? The bleedin' X-Men got too used to miracles, he realized. Well, they would be smacked in the face by reality hard enough tomorrow.
Wearily, he opened the door to his room and was surprised to see Kitty there, leaning against a dresser, smiling nervously. They hadn't talked personally at all. Pete was almost hoping they wouldn't have it. But she had obviously phased through the building, making sure to get there before Pete. No avoiding it now. Something Rachel had said suddenly floated through his mind.
"You're not Kitty."
She cocked an eyebrow at that. "Nice to see you too."
"Sorry. Was somethin' one of your mates said to me." He gave her his most indifferent face. "Can I help you, Pryde? Want to go over the mission plan again?"
She sighed, shook her head. "Not particularly. What we have is the best we can come up with." She shrugged. "But don't think I'm too idealistic that this is going to be easy."
"What do the others think?"
There was a heavy sigh from Kitty. "Most of them are in their own world. I think Jono may be the only one who really understand how screwed we are. Of course, he's got a death wish so it really doesn't bother him."
He looked at her, her head bowed in silence, deep regret and he realized that she was different. She had grown up. He walked across the room, kicking his shoes off, throwing his jacket on the bed.
"How's Rasputin?" He didn't want to know.
She shrugged, and he was glad to see such indifference when his name was mentioned. "He keeps proposing."
Shit. A muscle in his heart twitched. Keep it light, you're just friends. "Should I get used to calling you Katya?" He sat down heavily on the bed, looking across at her.
She started, her head jerking up to look at him, surprised. She saw the glint in his eyes and smiled. "Don't you bloody dare."
He couldn't help it again. His face cracked into a smile. "There's me girl."
Quiet. Just breathing.
"Why did you leave, Pete?" her voice was like whisper but it was something that both of them were waiting to hear for years.
"Oi Pryde, I was hoping we wouldn't do this. I was hoping we were above this."
She scowled at him. "Well, I'm obviously not. Maybe you are, but that's a question that's been nagging at me for years now."
He shrugged, playing it causal. "Figured you didn't need me anymore. Didn't want to over-stay my welcome."
"Pete, you are so full of shit." His head snapped up, looking at the angry young woman in front of him. "You took the first excuse you had, the first chance to reaffirm that your life was shit and you didn't deserve any kind of normalcy or happiness."
He blinked. "Well, there's that too." An eyebrow cocked, he continued in a louder voice, "I thought you said that it was a question that nagged at you for years."
"Yeah, well, you don't think about something for years without getting SOME answers." She looked up at him with wide eyes. "Don't you want to ask me why I did what I did?"
He shrugged. "Not particularly."
"We broke up for the dumbest reasons," she said. He looked at her, watching how she leaned against the dresser, how she shifted uncomfortably in her spandex outfit. Kitty didn't have to say a word. He already knew all of her reasons; he had spent months figuring them out. It didn't hurt any less.
"It would never have worked anyway." He took a long drag from his cigarette as she blinked at him, obviously looking for an explanation. "Your family of bleedin' body condoms would have had me in traction before our first anniversary."
She smiled slightly, lowering her head in a kind of agreement. His heart sunk, sad that she hadn't disagreed even if they both knew it was the truth.
"We might die tomorrow," she said, her voice flat. Her tone didn't surprise him; he knew the sound of a reluctant acceptance.
"We'll *probably* die tomorrow," he corrected, his cigarette nodding between his lips.
Suddenly, she looked up again, her eyes large, biting on her lip. "And that's why I want to sleep with you tonight."
Thank God for all those years of training, of keeping emotions in check. If he hadn't had those, he probably would have spit his cigarette across the room in shock. "Pryde-" he started.
She stood up straight, moving a hand in a silencing gesture. She walked over to him, sitting next to him on the bed. He looked into her eyes and knew he would not be able to say no, that he was gone.
"I need something real tonight, something to hold on to. Something to anchor me one last night before tomorrow, before all hell breaks loose." She was so achingly vulnerable. "And, and- I've missed you."
"Pryde, I don't think that's the best idea-"
"It doesn't have to mean anything, Pete. I know how these things work. Just one night. I won't think it means more and get weird, I promise." She gave him a lopsided grin. He felt like crying. That wasn't what he meant at all.
But what could he say?
The speed at which he stumbled towards her surprised them both and embarrassed him. He was needy, desperately pressing his lips against hers, holding her close to his body. He smiled, thankful for small miracles: she still tasted the same. She looked up at him, breathless but aware of his cold skin.
"Pete? Are you okay? You're shaking."
"I'm scared." He breathed deeply. "I don't care."
*****
He watched her sleep, her lithe bare chest rising and falling perfectly. Every second it was still, his heart was cold, warmed only when he saw her breasts rise again. This was the earliest he had been up in a long time, let alone up and feeling genuinely happy. He wanted to kiss the sun, make love to the world as beautifully as she had made to him the night before. She was perfect, the morning was perfect, and everything was perfect.
They were all going to die today and that was perfect.
Let me die happy. Please God, let me die happy and with her. But what if he didn't die? What if they lived? Then she would go back to the State, eventually get worn down and married to Comrade Rustbucket, led the X-Men, have commie children and forget all about him. Just because he didn't have the guts to tell her that it wasn't just a one night thing, not just a one time thing, not if she wanted it to be. She could even make an honest man out of him. If only she said yes.
She stirred, her back arching in a stretch and he saw a thousand images of her back arched from the night before, like a crescent moon.
"Morning, luv." His tongue tripped over the last word, nervous with boyish hopefulness. But a deep part of him knew he was not going to say anything, he was not going to ask her.
He paused. Now or never. Just say the words. Don't be fake, don't make pleasantries, just ask her flat out, tell her that you need her.
"Sleep well?" His voice sounded fake, but only to him.
She smiled up at him and blinked her liquid brown eyes.
"Yes."
*****
They lived. A few broken bones here and there, but they were all alive. Pete had stood on the tarmac long after their plane had disappeared into the sky, long after he couldn't feel his feet anymore in the freezing British air. Long after the last trace of Kitty's scent had been devoured by cigarette smoke and jet engine fluid.
And it was long after that his mouth was finally able to move again, finally able to make the motions of the question that he had never asked, the question he would never know the answer of.
It was long after she was gone that he had finally moved any part of his body, to wipe away the one stubborn tear that was threatening to escape after her.
*****
I'm in love with the world Through the eyes of a girl Who's still around the morning after
We broke up a month ago Then I grew up I didn't know I'd be around The morning after
It's always been wait and see A happy day and then you pay And feel like shit the morning after
But now I feel changed around And instead of falling down I'm standing up the morning after
Situations get fucked up And turned around sooner or later
I could be another fool or an exception to the rule You tell me the morning after
Crickets spin can't come to rest I'm damaged bad at best She'll decide what she wants
I'll probably be the last to know No one says until it shows See how it is...
They want you or they don't
Say yes-Elliot Smith
****** I updated this just a few days after Elliot's appaerant suicide, so this is extra melancholy for me right now. I have a whole lot of ideas of where to go with this, but before I bother, I would like to know if anyone's interested. It's hard to be all angsty when no one's listening, yo. ( So review please!