Crunch. Splat.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The sounds of panting.
She felt a stitch in her side, but still she continued to run.
Until she could run no more.
The creatures caught up to her, even as she attempted to get away by phasing through a wall.
For some reason, her phasing wasn't happening.
"No!" she screamed as the creature's slimy hands found their way around her neck.
The slight girl's eyes flew open, and she found herself encircled by a pair of strong arms. At first she fought against them, but then realized that she was safe. With him.
"Piotr," she whispered.
"Shh, Katya, it is all right. I am here. What's wrong?" His blue eyes peered down at her, awash with concern.
"Nothing," she lied, staring at him for a moment. Without warning, she leaned in and kissed him. He seemed surprised, but began to kiss her back.
"Piotr, do you think maybe we should… you know?"
"What?" he pulled away, studying her. After a moment, it registered. "Oh! No, Katya. It would not be right."
"What do you mean, it wouldn't be right?"
"Katya, you are so young. Too young."
"Oh, but I'm not too young to die, am I? She stood up, brown eyes flashing now. "No, I'm just too young to have a say in how my life is run, apparently."
"Katya," he said, moving towards her, sadness in his eyes. His hand reached out, gently brushing some hair back from her face, and he pulled her into a hug. "Katya, you are too young to die," he whispered as she wrapped her arms around him and emitted a soft sob.
Piotr's reassuring arms around her faded away as a loud bang of thunder shook the room. The same brown eyes flew open, and Kate Pryde caught her breath.
She stood up quickly, trying to force the dreams off, moving over to her window and touching the pane as she watched the rain as it pounded the fire escape.
Her memories had been haunting her dreams for years. Even before she had left the X-Men for good, her past had haunted her. And he had always made guest appearances in her dreams.
But he had died. Just like they all did, or would.
No, she didn't fear dying any more.
She had come to learn that there were things that were far worse.
She had come to learn that she had much more to lose than her life.
Well, at least she used to. She had lost it all-lost everyone who had mattered.
And those that hadn't? She'd left them all before they could leave her that way.
It was easier here in New York.
She didn't have to fear death anymore.