It was over
Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel. Or Astonishing X-Men. Or Illyana, though if I did, she wouldn't be the Darkchylde now. But since she is…
Imp of the Perverse
By Sue Penkivech
It was over.
How she knew, she couldn't say. Perhaps the strain of phasing the bullet had lessened as it escaped Earth's gravitational pull. Perhaps it was some sort of sixth sense, the same that allowed her to drift through the earth's crust and emerge on the surface, despite time elapsed, despite distance. Or perhaps it was wishful thinking, she admitted grudgingly as she let out a snort at her own impudence. For all she knew, she might still be somewhere within the Earth.
But she felt as if it were over. She was exhausted, both from the effort of phasing the bullet through the Earth and from fighting the almost overwhelming pull of the alien metal within her. Like calling to like, it drew her to the bullet's surface, pooling in her body where her flesh made contact. She strained against it once again, trying to pull herself away, ultimately collapsing once again as her strength gave out.
She wasn't going anywhere. Not now. Possibly not ever…
As soon as she finished the thought, she pushed it aside. Giving up was something she couldn't afford to consider. There had to be a way out of this, and if there was, she'd find it.
She just needed to rest, first.
Her mind reached out to Emma's. It was ironic, she thought, that she'd actually be seeking out Emma for reassurance, but at the end of the day Emma'd stayed with her and given what scant assistance she could. Now, though, there was no answer to her call, no diamond-edged commentary to welcome her back. She told herself it was distance, or interference, but in truth she had no idea how long she'd been gone, how far distant from Earth she was. She'd lost consciousness at some point – for seconds? Hours? Weeks?
No way to know. Given her new and unique bond with the bullet's surface and the mystical spell that pervaded it, it might've been any of those, or none. Again, it wasn't something she was prepared to consider just yet.
"'Bout time you woke up," a familiar voice said casually.
Kitty's head jerked up, and she let out a gasp of protest as the movement was arrested by her hair's bond with the surface. She'd managed to turn her head far enough to see who had spoken, though, and for a moment she felt a flood of hope.
That died as she saw the callous expression on her former roommate's face, the dead, emotionless look in her eyes.
Not Illyana. Darkchylde.
"Yana," she said hoarsely, hoping she was wrong. Hoping, beyond hope, that there was still some way to reach the girl within, the one she'd mourned as dead for years, who'd been her best friend and confidant for years before that. That she was here, even in her Darkchylde incarnation, was heartening; if physics couldn't extract her from the bullet, it was possible magic could.
Assuming, of course, that was Illyana's intent.
"Mmm. Sort of. Close enough, anyway. Nice job with the bullet," Illyana said, her lizard-like tail flipping in an eerie simulation of Kurt's casual grace. "You saved the Earth, figured you'd be glad to know that."
"What –" whatever Kitty'd been about to say, and even she wasn't sure, was arrested as a smaller, pink-haired figure emerged from behind Illyana.
"Is it time, Mistress?" Pixie asked, an expression of rapt adoration on her face as she looked up at Illyana.
Illyana smiled coldly, and Kitty felt her spine tingle in a way that had nothing to do with exhaustion or metal-induced illness. "Oh, I think so. Y'see," she said, turning back to Kitty, "I came to find you, after your last visit to Limbo. You weren't anywhere to be found. Piotr either. But that's not surprising, is it? Neither of you have ever been around when I needed you."
"That's not fair," Kitty objected. "Illyana, we've always –" the tail swung, smacking her in the face, and she cried out as the force which should've sent her flying was instead arrested by the metal holding her prisoner. The metallic taste of her own blood filled her mouth and she swallowed hard, choking down both the blood and a sudden terror that had nothing to do with the bullet itself and everything to do with the fact she was, for the first time she could remember, utterly defenseless before a very real threat.
The fact that the threat was one of her best friends was only icing on the cake.
"Shut up! I heard you in Limbo. 'Be careful, Piotr!', as if I'd hurt my own brother. I'd trusted you, Kitty." For a moment, her resolve wavered, pain flashing over her face, but then it was gone once again. "Should've known better. Cat taught me not to trust anyone but myself."
"You can trust me, Mistress!" Pixie said enthusiastically, jet black butterfly wings fluttering with expectation.
Illyana laughed. "For now, while the glamour holds," she agreed, looking at the younger girl fondly. "But sooner or later you'll turn on me, won't you, Apprentice? That's just how it works."
"Apprentice?" Kitty choked out, looking from one to the other in disbelief. "I thought…
"Well, you won't have to think anymore, will you? See, I gave it some thought myself," Illyana said, gesturing for Pixie to proceed. "I need souls to fill the Beatrix amulet. Five of them – well, four now that I've got Megan's. Now, I could take them from people I don't like, but for magic to work best, there has to be a sacrifice. And a sacrifice entails giving up something you care about." She grinned, a cold, humorless expression, then shrugged. "Can't use my sword these days, but hey, that's apprentice work anyway."
Pixie stepped closer and shrugged as she pulled out a small dagger. "Sorry, Ms. Pryde," she said, a trace of genuine regret in her voice. "You were always one of my favorite teachers. No hard feelings?"
"Don't –" every molecule in her body screamed in agony as Pixie's dagger drew her forth from the bullet, magic battling magic for ownership of her body. Ultimately, though, the soul dagger won out over the alien spells, and she felt herself be drawn into it, even as Amanda had pulled her into the soul sword years before. Her last conscious thought was that there were indeed fates worse than spending a lifetime bonded to a bullet hurtling through space.
"We'll do the spell in Limbo," she heard Illyana say conversationally. "All this alien magic is giving me a headache."
"Whatever you say, Mistress," Pixie replied cheerfully as she sheathed her dagger.
Kitty heard no more.
Author's Note: For a totally different Kitty rescue fic, check out "Deliverance" by Excalibards, a story I'm co-authoring with Melodyrider and Oldprydefan. We'd love your feedback!