A/N: It seems odd to me that Lance and Kitty got along so well in "Power Surge." Did something happen between them that we weren't aware of? This fic is set right after "Growing Pains," and attempts to explain Lance's rather rash action at the soccer game as well as credit Kitty with an I.Q., as many authors have not.
Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine.
Reaching Out* * * * * * * *
Does it scare you that I can be something different than you?
Would it make you feel more comfortable if I wasn't?
- Lifehouse, Quasimodo
* * * * * * * *
Lance stared moodily out over the lake. He knew he should be home by now – but what did it matter, anyway? The rest of the Brotherhood could take care of themselves.
He clenched his fists, wishing for something to take his anger out on – but the calm lake at sunset was too peaceful, too beautiful for him to disturb. He didn't belong there.
For just one night, he had felt marvelously, unbelievably free. He had stood bathed in the spotlight at the soccer game and screamed his secret to the world, and a fierce joy had overcome him like nothing he had ever felt before. Later there would be repercussions, later he would have to deal with the consequences - but right then, he was free.
Then the X-Men had come and ruined it all.
The calm water rippled slightly as Lance's fury grew. The coldly logical part of him said that he was lucky that Xavier had interfered; his classmates would almost certainly want to lynch him. Still, the frustration he had felt when he got to school and realized that no one remembered the truth was almost too much to bear.
"Lance." The voice came out of nowhere, but Lance didn't need to turn around to know who had spoken. Instead of answering, he turned further away from the source of the voice.
Kitty Pryde glared at Lance's back. How could he be so rude? He knew what she wanted. She had come here for answers, and she was going to get them whether he liked it or not.
"What did you think you were doing last night?" Kitty demanded. She tried to keep her voice down to keep from sounding hysterical. She had to stay strong. "That stunt you pulled was crazy – if, like, Professor Xavier hadn't wiped everyone's memories, everyone would have, like, known about us!"
"That was the idea," Lance muttered.
"But why?"
Lance shifted uncomfortably. How could he make Kitty understand? He couldn't, really. "I just wanted to, all right?"
He recoiled in shock as Kitty slapped him. Wide-eyed, he stared at her, and realized she was crying. "That isn't an answer, Lance! Do you mean to tell me you risked everything for no reason?"
He reached towards her, but she pulled away. "Kitty…"
Forget being strong, she thought, as her emotions got the best of her. "Do you have any idea how scared I was? When you told the whole school that we were mutants? They hated us then, Lance! I looked around in the stands and no one would look me in the face." Tears rolled down her cheeks as she relived the ordeal. "I worked so hard to keep my mutation a secret, and you almost destroyed it in one night! How could you do that? Maybe you're ready to be…to be thrown to the wolves and hated, but I'm not!" She was sobbing now, her frail body shaking with the force of her tears. Lance wanted to reach out and comfort her, but he didn't quite dare. He began to feel a bit guilty - he had never considered the effect this might have on her. He supposed he owed her an explanation.
"I'm sorry, Kitty. I'm sorry I dragged you into it. But there was a reason."
"What reason?" Kitty choked out. "Besides wanting to make our lives miserable?"
"That wasn't the reason. Look – " He reached out and grabbed her hands, forcing her to turn and look at him. She phased them out of his grip immediately, but not until she had met his eyes. "Think about what you said. You aren't ready to be hated, but I already am. Fred and Todd and Pietro and I – we're already outcasts. We didn't have anything to lose."
"Nothing to lose? What if they'd killed you?" Kitty challenged. "Once word got out that there were mutants in Bayville, some fanatic could easily have come and finished you off!"
"I wouldn't go down without a fight, and maybe I'd have woken some people up. Mutants exist, and we're not going away. But that isn't the real reason."
"Then what is?" she demanded.
He looked down, thinking of the best way to explain. Finally, he said, "Don't you ever get tired of hiding? You said that you work hard to keep your powers hidden. Don't you get sick of it?"
"No!" Kitty cried. "I just want to be normal!"
"We won't ever be normal, Kitty. Ever. You can walk through walls, and I can create earthquakes. It will never go away. Maybe Xavier filled you full of crap about being able to live your life out normally, but that's bull. You're only 'normal' at the Institute with all the rest of the freaks."
"Then at least let me pretend!"
Lance looked at her sadly. "Pretending won't make it any easier – it just puts off accepting the fact." Kitty bit her lip and turned away. Lance stared out over the water and began talking again, slowly.
"When I told everyone – it was like all my problems disappeared." He glanced at Kitty to see if she was listening and then continued. "I didn't have to hide anymore. Everyone there knew what I was and what I could do, and it felt so good. Those kids were scared. We weren't white trash anymore, we were important! No one would make fun of us again, not when they knew what we could do to them. I wanted to wake them up. 'Hey, there's more to life than your little world! Look at us!' "
His voice had risen now, and his eyes were almost feverish. "I looked out and saw the people who treated us like dirt; they were as afraid as everyone else. No more looking down their noses at the poor, dirty 'bad' kids – they had to respect us!" Kitty stared at him, frightened by his words. There was bitterness in his voice, imbedded there through years of mistreatment. For a few moments, he had tasted the power that comes from not being a victim anymore – and listening to him talk, she could feel it too, the intoxicating sensation of seeing hundreds of people cowering in fear at his feet.
She shook her head to clear it. "But fear isn't the same thing as respect."
"Maybe not, but it's as close to it as I'll ever get," Lance returned grimly.
They stood in silence for a minute, both lost in their own thoughts. Lance was remembering how it felt to walk into school and find that no one remembered what he had done. No one looked at him differently now; no one respected him. After the emotional highs of last night and the ensuing fight with the X-Men, Lance could not accept the fact that nothing had changed. Even if everyone did hate us, at least they'd know the truth. At least we wouldn't be hiding anymore. But no. He had to carry his secret inside him once more.
Kitty contemplated the boy next to her. He had obviously seen much more of the negative side of life then she ever cared to. She could, however, see what Lance could not – that far from being feared, what Lance desperately wanted was to be accepted and respected. She could understand that. In fact, what frightened her so much was that she did understand why Lance exposed himself, in a way. Oh, not completely – it was impossible for her to fully understand how he felt; they were too different for that. In many ways, however, they were exactly the same – trying to deal with life and fit in the best they knew how.
"Lance?" she said softly. He turned mutely to look at her. Suddenly she didn't know what to say. Her thoughts were too corny, too clichéd, and completely out of character for the young valley girl. How could Lance take her seriously? She swallowed, and forced herself to say, "Don't – don't stop hoping, okay?" The words sounded stupid, even to her.
Lance regarded her with surprise. "It might be too late for that, Kitty," he answered. Kitty's heart suddenly contracted with pain and anger, anger at a world that could embitter a boy so young. This is what happens before school shootings, she realized. Lance could easily become one of them - one of the kids who was shunned and tormented until he snapped. The whole problem could have been solved if someone had just been willing to reach out to them…
Maybe she could do some reaching out.
"I don't think it is," she said strongly, surprising herself. "I don't think it's ever too late to hope. Things don't have to be so bad, Lance." She looked him directly in the eyes, willing him to believe her. He looked away, but not before she saw surprise and wonder light up his world-weary eyes. She blushed unaccountably, suddenly feeling shy.
"Maybe not," Lance said finally. "Maybe not," he repeated softly. He reached for her hand, and this time, she let him take it.
They watched as the sun went down.
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