Sorry it took so long, folks. I just now got the actual resources to type this chapter…or any of the story, come to that. I'll shut up so you can enjoy.

-Sali

Sorry I have not posted any personal comments or bio yet! I'm still trying to figure out how this account and site works, so please everyone just go along with me until I get me bearings. I hope everyone is enjoying the story, and please review. This is my first fan fiction, and I definitely will need all the help I can get, so all feedback would be appreciated greatly. I will now stop taking up your time so you can read the story :-P

-Kyrie


Chapter 2

Kitty

Kitty toyed nervously with a strand of grey-streaked hair. A warm breeze caressed her face as if to help her calm down, but in vain. There was no way, as long as she stood before her parents' house, she could possibly be calm.

She tried deep breaths, but that only made her dizzy. Not knowing what else to do, she took a few hesitant steps in the direction of the small house with blue siding.

It felt like an eternity since she'd left this place. The day she officially "met" Nathaniel. She really didn't want to remember him as the snotty and arrogant kid of that day, since, after all, he was the one who had saved her…and all of London.

She drew to a halt at the two stairs that led to the porch. On the porch, old paint was peeling away. She wondered when that had happened. Her mother always made sure every aspect of their house and lawn was pristine.

Holding her breath and clenching her fists, she took the first step, then the second, and shuffled her way to the door. She started getting dizzy, so she released the pent up breath and rapped softly on the outer screen door.

The seconds stretched into hours, it seemed, until she heard the inner door start to open. Peering through the screen, she saw her mother's shocked face.

"M-Mom?" Kitty breathed.

"Kathleen!" her mother cried, throwing the screen door open and embracing her daughter.

"Where's Dad?" Kitty asked weakly.

Her mother froze. Then she began to tremble violently. "Mom?!" cried Kitty in alarm. She pulled back and found her mother sobbing. "Mom, what happened? What's wrong?"

Iris Jones shook her head and went inside. Concerned, Kitty followed, nervousness at her reception dissipating.

As her mom collapsed on the couch, Kitty raced to the kitchen and poured two glasses of water. When she returned to the living room, she put them on the coffee table and sat down next to her mother.

Iris made several valiant attempts to calm herself. Finally she succeeded long enough to tell Kitty that her father was dead. Kitty felt a twinge of sadness, but it quickly faded. After that, anything her mom said was fluent gibberish. Kitty did, however, manage to grasp that her father was near the site of the explosion. The explosion that killed—she couldn't stand to think his name and she bit back tears of her own.

"Oh, Kitty," her mother wheezed. "I know. I know it hurts."

Kitty didn't bother telling her mother her soon-to-be-sob fest wouldn't be about her father. But her mother was right; it did hurt.

-oOoOoOo-

It was nearly two hours before Iris was drained of tears. Kitty had yet to allow any of hers to fall. Her chest burned and her eyes ached with the effort, but she held strong.

The longer Kitty stayed there, the more she realized how much happier she was away from here, and the more she felt guilty for wanting to escape. The house just contained too many bad memories for her, so the moment it was appropriate, she told her mother good-bye and left.

As she traipsed down the sidewalk, she bit her lip as her eyes watered with unshed tears. So her father had died in the same explosion that killed Nathaniel. She hated to think it, but she just couldn't be sad her father had died the way a daughter should be. With the very little heart left that cared about what happened now, she desperately wished she could. But when John—she couldn't think of that spoiled brat as the guy she knew as Nathaniel—had come to her house the first time, her father had as good as disowned her. It seemed the feeling was mutual. The anger and hatred she'd felt toward her father that night left a mark that wouldn't go away.

Several salty tears escaped and streamed down her face. Mindlessly, she pelted down the street, running blindly for who-knew-where. The air was cool against her damp face. She relished the feeling.

Before long, her legs ached, her lungs burned and heaved, and a stitch throbbed relentlessly in her side. Through blurry eyes, she noted several trees and hobbled over; one dreary place was as good as the next, right? Brambles, leaves, and small branches caught in her hair and clothes as she worked her way through the woods. Suddenly, her foot caught something, a tree root if anything, and she was sent sprawling. The impact jarred her arms, so she lay down on her stomach and waited for the pain to recede. It soon faded and she sat up slowly to observe exactly what had caused her to fall.

In the dying light, a flash of bronze caught her eye. Her breath caught in her chest; half-buried in several inches of earth, scraps or iron, and pieces of brick was Nathaniel's poorly-crafted scrying glass.

"Nathaniel," she murmured, edging over and trying to wrench it out. When that didn't work, she used her hands as spades. The damp ground gave way before her determined fingers and with a final tug, the scrying glass came free. Its edges, which had always been rough, were now slightly melted, almost to the point of being smooth. Mud was smeared across the bottom half, so she found a spot on her shirt and tried to clean the glass without smudging it.

She nearly dropped the glass with fright when a small groan emerged from somewhere nearby. Nathaniel had no more demons working for him, so there wasn't anything in the glass. Maybe he forgot the Dismiss the imp. Somehow, she doubted it, which left the options of someone else out in the woods near her location or the likely possibility of her going insane. Much more likely! Kitty 

scolded herself, though only half-heartedly. Part of her was wondering if that wasn't the case. But old habits die hard, and Kitty found herself glancing nervously over her shoulder. The Resistance had taught her the difficult lesson to act cautious in all situations; thankfully, she couldn't see or feel any unwanted presences close by.

She sighed. It was reaching twilight, so she stiffly stood up and walked back through the woods using her own man-made path. Though she hadn't noticed it in her sudden onslaught of grief, the woods held an unsettling amount of menace. Even after a few days' time, stars were surrounded by tendrils of drifting smoke; it came from behind the trees and undergrowth approaching from the site of the explosion and steadily moved upward. The charred scent filled Kitty's nostrils, and she judged the ruins to be approximately a block away. The thought wasn't a pleasing one, but by now her emotions were so worn that she was living in a new state of emotional numbness.

Her apartment was looking more lonely and desolate than ever. It suited her mood perfectly. She entered, went into the bedroom, set the plate down on the bed, and curled up next to it. Soon sleep fogged her mind and she drifted into a disturbed slumber.


A/N: We realize there are still a few things we have yet to cover (the seven league boots, what happened to Kitty after Nathaniel told her to go, etc.) but this is only chapter 2, people. We'll be getting to them soon enough. If there is something you want us to cover, however, drop off your suggestions. Just 'cause we've thought of some unanswered things, doesn't mean we've thought of all of them. Feel free to drop off a comment in our handy dandy little suggestion box. If you click that little button, I'm sure the box will pop up…

(P.S. Kyrie and I know for a fact that Mrs. Jones' name is in fact Iris. We spent a little time doing research and were half successful; we found Kitty's mom's name, but not her dad's. Now that I've wasted a few seconds of your time, feel free to review, or run away from the two crazy wackos who wrote this story.)