Weary
Summary: A chance meeting with John makes Kitty wonder about the world she'd trying to save. Kyro one-shot.
Timeframe: Post-X3.
Archive: In the unlikely event that someone would actually want to archive this – ask and I'll say yes. Just let me know where it's going.
Disclaimer: All things recognisably X-Men are obviously not mine. I just like making up my own stories.
A/N: Written for the prompt 'meeting' on the theme of 'firsts' for the kittyandpyro livejournal community.
Kitty was tired.
It had been three weeks since Alcatraz, but she couldn't shake the feeling of weariness. At night, she had difficulty falling asleep, because when she closed her eyes she could see all the destruction again, and the ghostly faces of her dead mentors. She hadn't cried since that night Bobby had taken her ice-skating, because her eyes just wouldn't produce the tears.
She had gone for a walk, seeking some peace away from her classmates and friends, hoping to feel calmer and less paranoid. It had gotten to the stage where she had almost been afraid to watch the news, in case there was some unexpected news of a new attack on mutants. Walking into the Danger Room was worse: she was reminded of all the people – mutants and humans alike – who had fallen at Alcatraz. And a few of those by her own hand.
So far, all she felt was cold. Maybe this walk hadn't been such a brilliant idea, after all.
There was some sort of commotion going on up ahead, and she stopped walking. Frowning, she tried to decide whether she should turn around and leave, or find out what was going on. Curiosity got the better of her, and she cautiously moved forward.
Five or six men were in a circle around something, looking like they were about to grab whatever-it-was and beat it to a bloody pulp. But Kitty saw the fear in their expressions, and she wondered if it really was smart to keep going towards them.
One of them shifted, giving her a clear view inside the circle – and she stopped short.
John Allerdyce – Pyro, she reminded herself – stood there, a huge ball of flame in his hand, teeth bared in an angry sneer. His eyes were half wild, filled with danger and warning and…fear?
Almost unconsciously, she took another step towards him. Sickening dread was settling in her stomach. She knew that Pyro was the enemy; she'd seen him fight against the X-Men. But she couldn't shake the thought that he had been one of them. He had been a friend. She had cared about him, once.
The sense of foreboding wouldn't go away. Someone was going to get hurt, and she knew that Pyro wouldn't escape unscathed.
She stared hard at him, willing him to look at her. Don't do this, she mouthed silently. Don't get hurt. Don't force me to care.
He looked up and locked eyes with her, and suddenly he looked confused. The fire in his hand diminished a little, and in that moment, the men took their chance.
"Get him!" one shouted, and before either Kitty or Pyro himself could move, they men had reacted.
"No!" Kitty screamed, and she ran to him, phasing through everything in between. She grabbed his wrist, phasing him along with her, and dragged him away, running as far and fast as she could.
When she stopped a safe distance away, he wrenched his arm away from her.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he snapped, rubbing his wrist.
She stared at him. "What do you think?" she asked incredulously. He just scowled ferociously at her and looked away.
What had she been expecting, anyway? She might have just potentially saved him from doing something very, very stupid and getting hurt in the process, but he was still the enemy. She still hated him and everything he stood for. Didn't she?
"Where's the rest of your goody-two-shoes, save-the-universe team? Shouldn't Iceman be here, acting like the hero?" He spat out Bobby's codename like it hurt his tongue.
"Don't talk about Bobby," she said quietly, her voice tinged with sadness and laced with warning. She didn't want to revisit that part of her life. It was over, it was past. She'd never had a chance with him, and in the end she hadn't really wanted one. What she had been was lonely. "You have Rogue, and I have…" Well. She didn't have anyone, not anymore.
"Why not?"
She just looked away, determined not to say anything and give him the benefit of something to mock her over.
Suddenly, it dawned on him, and he laughed bitterly. "You and Iceman? Figures. The pushover and the perfect little princess."
"There is no 'me and Iceman'," she said firmly, wondering why she even felt the need to correct him anyway. What happened in her life was none of his business. She also wondered why she was still standing there, taking his abuse. "What about you? Where's the rest of your team?"
At these words, he glared daggers at her. "Not here," was all he said, and she figured that either they were all dead, or they'd left him behind. She was suddenly assaulted by a rush of compassion for the angry mutant in front of her – he was alone and on the run with nowhere to go. And she couldn't help but feel sorry for him. She couldn't help wanting to help him.
His hand reached up to touch a bruise on his forehead and he grimaced. Kitty frowned – she mustn't have gotten to him fast enough.
"Here, let me check if you're hurt," she said, moving towards him.
"Get lost!" he barked, holding his hand out. She backed off, noticing with a slight tremble that he still held his lighter.
"I just wanted to –"
"Help?" He laughed derisively. "I don't want your help, Pryde."
She gazed at him, eyes wide and hurt. "But I just –"
He sneered at her. "You think I need saving? That it? Well guess what: I don't need a saviour. Especially not you. Those guys are going to come back for me anyway – all you did was piss them off more. You want to help me? Then get the hell away from me."
This wasn't the John she remembered – the man standing before her was cruel and bitter, no longer the cocky teenager who used to pull pranks on the teachers and tease her about her diminutive stature. And his words struck her like blows to the chest. Was he right? Would mutants and humans ever really stop fighting? There would always be some new battle, people who called the X-Men in to save them and then ignored their attempts to make the world a better place. Did fighting the battles make it any easier?
"Get lost, Pryde. Go back to Iceman and your pathetic, meaningless existence."
Her expression hardened even as her eyes filled with tears. "You know what, John? Bobby might be the Iceman, but you're the cold one." And she spun on her heel and walked off, breaking into a run as soon as she thought she was out of sight.
She slowed and collapsed into a nearby bench, feeling more than tired now. This encounter with John – Pyro, she reprimanded herself again – had left her drained and weary. She tried so hard to help others – that was why she'd fought at Alcatraz, why she'd run after the Juggernaut to get to Leech, why she kept fighting with the X-men to protect humans who didn't appreciate their help anyway. It was why she'd tried to protect John from those men.
But in the end, something or someone threw it all back in her face. What was the point in fighting if there was no end to it? If nobody cared if they were saved? If day after day, the world just threw up another battle?
Kitty leaned forward and buried her head in her hands. She was so exhausted from lack of sleep and the physical exertion of dragging Pyro away that she was beginning to fall asleep. How she was going to get back to the mansion, she didn't know.
Tears began to work their way through her fingers, finally released after days of feeling numb and broken. She let them fall.
Why was she crying now, after meeting Pyro again? Why hadn't she cried after Alcatraz? How could one chance meeting break her like this?
Because you care too much, answered a voice in her mind. You care too much about him. About the world.
"You're such a wuss, Pryde."
She looked up in shock, and there he was. Standing in front of her, flicking his lighter like he always did. Like nothing had happened. Like he hadn't told her to piss off after she'd saved him, and watched her walk away.
"What do you want?" she asked angrily, standing up despite her aching legs.
He tilted his head to the side, a strange expression on his face.
Kitty shook her head and made to walk through him, but she hadn't gone two steps when she heard him say, "They left me."
She turned around. "What?"
"The Brotherhood," he said blankly. "The ones that survived."
There was a moment of hesitation. "I know," she said softly, shifting out of her phased state as compassion won out over her common sense. "I'm…I'm sorry."
He opened his mouth to say something, and she paused expectantly. But he stayed silent, and she sighed. Maybe there was nothing left to say. He'd left her alone, and now he was alone. Maybe that was how the world worked. And tomorrow would bring another of the world's battles, and the two of them would be enemies once more.
"T-take care," she half whispered, turning to leave once more. But, muscles and head aching from fatigue, she tripped and stumbled, falling over.
Strong hands steadied her, grasping her upper arms and pulling her upright. Kitty turned her head to look at him. Surprise crossed her features as she caught the expression on his face – a weariness that matched her own, a hint of concern and an open, raw honesty that she had never seen before.
"Thank you," he whispered, his voice catching on the words. He let go of her abruptly and stepped back, walking away and leaving her blinking at him over her shoulder.
As she slowly made her way back to the school, she could feel a bit of strength returning to her. She wiped her leftover tears from her cheeks and buried her hands in her coat pockets, a tiny sad smile forming on her lips. Sometimes people did care when they were saved. Sometimes one person made a difference. And that made fighting tomorrow's battles just a little more worthwhile.
Fin