Bedroom Conversations


Summary: A series of conversations between Kitty and John, in the bedroom. Chapter 8: Kitty has bad news. Post-X3.
Disclaimer: All things recognisably X-Men aren't mine - I just like making up my own stories.
A/N: When I wrote this fic, I asked for conversation topic ideas. The suggestion here was 'if this was your last day, how would you spend it?'


Chapter Eight

He was sitting next to the window, watching the cold moonlight stripe across his hands. Prison bars, he thought wryly, letting his head fall back against the wall.

There was a soft thump as something landed on the bed, and he didn't need to look up to know that it was Kitty. But something was off – he could hear her breathing, and it was ragged and shallow.

"What's going on?" he asked, getting up and sitting next to her on the bed.

She uncurled and used his arm to pull herself up to her knees. There were dried tear-tracks on her face, and he resisted the impulsive desire to trace them with his fingers.

"I don't want to be mad at you," she said, the words tumbling out of her mouth with no signs of slowing down. "I don't want to not trust you. I don't want to leave the world thinking you're a bad person, because I know you're not, but part of me still thinks you are. Don't let me down, John, don't let me die not being able to trust you."

"Die? What the hell is this about, Kitty?" he asked, a sharp attack of fear and confusion making his voice sound too loud and angry.

Kitty kept rambling, ignoring his question. "What would you do if today was your last day on earth? Every day is so precious, John, and now they seem even shorter…If today was my last, I wouldn't want to spend it away from you. I need to be okay, I need us to be okay, I need you to tell me that you're not going to betray us again, because if my last day is coming up soon, I need to be strong. And I can't be strong if I can't trust you."

He gripped her shoulders, forcing her to focus on him. "Kitty. What is going on?"

She stopped and blinked. "There's a virus," she said in a whisper. Two wide brown eyes filled with tears as he stared into them, and she fell forward, crying into the base of his neck, hands fisting in his shirt.

John felt like Bobby had just iced up his blood. "What virus? Are you…are you sick?" Don't be sick. Please don't be sick…

He felt her shake her head against him, and he relaxed in relief, holding her tightly as she wept. When the shudders had subsided, he gently lifted her chin.

"What happened?" he asked softly.

His tenderness seemed to surprise her, and for a moment everything felt like it used to – just the two of them together, no anger or fear or pain.

"There's a virus," Kitty repeated. "It attacks the mutant X-gene, and there's no cure. Some of the kids are already infected. Jubilee…Jubilee's really sick." She gazed up at John with moist eyes. "She's been my best friend since I came here," she finished.

"Sorry," John said, almost cringing at how hollow the two syllables sounded. He was sorry. Kitty had already lost too many people she cared about. But he realised that no matter what he said, it would still sound hollow.

"So am I." She gave a deep, shaky sigh and leaned her head on his shoulder, flattening her palms against his chest. He was surprised at how easily she fit into him, like nothing had ever been between them. He was surprised at how she still felt so right.

"Tell me I can trust you, John," she murmured in a voice that cracked through his defences like a frozen arrow. "Tell me you've changed. Tell me everyone's wrong when they say you're too far gone." Kitty looked up at him with pleading eyes. "Tell me that if tomorrow was my last day on earth, you'd be with me."

John swallowed hard. It would be so easy to tell her what she wanted to hear – but he wasn't sure if she could trust him. He wasn't sure he had changed enough to be what she needed. And he couldn't just lie to her – she meant too much for him to make promises he knew he couldn't keep.

"John, please."

He stared down at her desperate face and knew that this was all she was clinging onto while her world fell apart – her blind faith that he had changed. She was clinging onto him.

"You can trust me," he said with difficulty, the words feeling foreign as they slipped off his tongue.

Even as she tried to smile and slid her arms around his neck, he knew that she knew his statement was neither the truth nor a lie. He could tell that she was holding on to one last hope, a hope precious enough to ignore the flaws.

Kitty stretched up and pressed her lips to his in a soft, desperate kiss.

"I don't want to be alone tonight," she whispered hoarsely.

John nodded and let her lie back, lying down beside her like he used to.

"If tomorrow was your last day on earth," Kitty murmured. "How would you spend it?"

He thought seriously about it and answered, "In freedom, as far away from here as possible." He'd wanted to say "With you", but his tongue refused to weaken and say it.

She paused and said, "I'd want to spend my last day with the people I care about." And the unspoken "With you" neither of them could say hummed in the silence between them.

They lapsed into silence, and he tried not to move until he heard her breathing become deep and even.

He didn't know what to do now – he hated being a prisoner in the mansion and he didn't want to be around while people he'd known and been friends with once got sick and died. He didn't want to know that Kitty was depending on him to keep her from falling apart. And yet, knowing that she still cared that much about him made part of him want to stay for her. Like it or not, he'd made a promise that she could trust him, and he couldn't easily break a promise he'd made to her.

He gently rolled to his side and stared at the moon shining through the bars on his window.