(Pryde/Wisdom) The Greatest Miracle of All 14/?
Disclaimer: Main ones are Marvel characters, some will be mine, too, so don't sue because *looking around her room* I am just a happy, but poor college student. I don't have the money for those prosecuting and if i do *smirk* you can't have it because i need it for more comics.
Feedback: Very much welcome. I'll welcome any kind of feedback good or bad, but flamers don't make me tie anyone down. I've over and done with that but I'm sure i can find something to stake you down with and some creatures to leave to play with you.
Adoration's, Praise and Acknowledgments: To Tangles, Luba, and Winter, who all were ecstatic that there was finally more to this story.
To Luba, my present beta, cause her praise is enough to keep me writing more. To Winter, cause he loves her and sometime makes me think of things Pete would do. And Tangle Toy who is my push behind me getting to finish this story, because she loved it so much way back when I started it. Love to you all, you're the BEST!
After Uncanny X-Men #379 and before X-Men #99.
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Part XIV: "One step back, Two steps forward"
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She looked out the glass, her fingertips pressed against it. There was a grand scene outside. There were bright green trees older than her oldest living relative was. There were hills of rolling green, bright green grass that spoke of the coming summer for this state. Just beyond the rise of the furthest hill was a lake. So large and free. Black as its reflection of the sky, and dotted by the same early morning's stars.
Closing her eyes, she let her forehead rest on the cool glass of the sliding door, feeling her surroundings. It wasn't a feeling inside her anymore. It wasn't the emotions of everything beyond her. It was gentle feelings at the edges of her senses. The ebb and flow of power that wasn't hers but the world's around her. It brought something to her, though this morning, when she was supposed to be asleep, that she hadn't expected.
"Lee?"
The voice came from the back of the building she stood in and it made her lips curl slowly into a smile. Her eyes opened slowly taking in the darkness outside the glass door and feet away to the ground. They rested on the furthest point of the lake where the moon reflected on the lake showing how late it still was. Beautiful moon, too, she noted, looking from the reflection to the sky.
"Lee?"
Kylie had a double reaction when he called out the second time. First she found it slightly amusing, and then she found it annoying almost in a sad way. He couldn't 'just tell' where she was. Which in turn meant the same for him. For a second she bit her tongue staring out into that darkness, as she perceived this new turn of events again. They wouldn't ever be inside each other's minds again.
"In the living room," she called out over her shoulder. Even though she heard him coming down the hallway before she finished her sentence, and waited for a moment for him to emerge from the hallway. He was wearing the black jeans and a black shirt, underneath a long black trench coat. His sunglasses were hanging at his collar, a comfort to her, because she loved his eyes even as they were.
For a moment she smiled at the simplicity of the way he was dressed all in black, compared to what she was wearing. She had on light blue bellbottoms with colorful butterflies all around her pants, and a light floral white shirt that only buttoned in the center, with long sleeves and synched wrists. What a duo of difference they made. It made her smile wider, infectiosly so, since she watched her brother smile looking at her.
"All packed?"
"Yep," Kylie nodded, and pointed to the bags by the door. "Whenever you are."
"Two bags only?" Kyle asked curiously.
"I didn't think I'd need much. Some of my favorite clothes and my new lap top." She rubbed her hands together for a few seconds as she thought about this place. They'd barely been here a month even and they were already headed to somewhere else.
"I left a few boxes of ours to be shipped by Donovan in an hour or two to the house in Paris. The donation people will come pick up everything else in a few hours. Everything's already in order. If we need anything, its not like we can't buy it on the way," she finished with only a hint of the smile she'd had. The money wasn't an important thing to either of them. It was simply a fact. They had disgusting amounts of money at their fingertips.
After their foster parents' death they'd learned fast how to manage it between their parents' people and themselves. No matter how much they spent a year, no matter how much they donated, no matter how much they simply gave away, it kept coming in. More and more each year. And, of course the world knew, they were the billionaire Chartez twins, left all the money, houses, companies and so much more by their parents' fatal accident.
"Let's get going then," Kyle said, and Kylie found herself wondering just exactly what he might be thinking at the moment. It was going to be something she knew she'd wonder about for the rest of her life now. She wasn't sure she was fond of that notion at all.
~*~*~
Knock, knock.
"Sir?"
Knock, knock.
"Excuse me, Sir?"
Knock, knock.
"Sir? Are you awake?"
Knock, kno-
"What in the bleedin' hell do you want at this hour?"
Suddenly the door was thrown halfway back by a devilish looking figure, with messy hair, and dark foggy eyes surrounded by shadowed bags from little sleep. His attire didn't even match his comment. There were no sleeping clothes. Simply rumpled work clothes it looked to the girl. The only thing that even looked like he might have been resting was the fact his shirt was loose and unbuttoned, hanging around him like a second skin.
His eyes narrowed on her speculatively and the girl felt her stomach do a little flop. She didn't usually do anything to customers, but then most of your customers didn't look they could ever do anything to you. She wasn't so sure about this man. Especially the way he smelled of alcohol and almost seemed to barely cling to the cigarette in one of his hands like he wasn't noticing it at all.
"Do you know what time it is?"
"A package for you was brought to the front desk with express understanding that it should be given to you now, sir," the girl said, holding out a brown paper bag whose upper edge closed around a bottle top. An obvious dead giveaway to what it was of course. The girl tucked at her straw blonde hair nervously as he looked from it back to her.
"There's no name," the man in room one-forty-one replied after looking in the bag a moment. "Who sent this?"
"Umm," the woman looked a little nervous, glancing off down the hallway to her right for a second. "A young woman. Light skin. Dark eyes. She was looking for you by name. Something about you telling her you were here. I don't think she gave me her name."
Watching something dawn in his eyes, the way he looked from the bottle to her, she really wished she could just turn around and leave. This was not a normal procedure. He seemed to grip the bottle a bit closer to him now, and he was faintly swinging it at her when he spoke. He put his cigarette back up to his lips, and as she watched a thin trail of smoke leave him a second later, he began to speak again, his expression fully cynical.
"She leave a message or anything else?"
"No, si-"
"Yes-" another voice answered and forced the door he'd so purposely opened only slightly open more, as the person grabbed the door. And who was it? Of course. The other ruddy person who would be here at this point. Light skin. Dark eyes. She was looking for you by name. Something about telling her you were here. He was looking at her as she spoke, even though he was caught between the urge to wring her neck till she stopped breathing or hug her until he couldn't hold on anymore.
"She wants you to know she's been a colossal jerk and that she's sorry," Kitty said with a hand still pressed on the door, that he was holding pretty firmly.
"Can I go back to the desk now?" the girl next to them piped up. They both turned their heads to look at her, almost like they might have forgotten she was there for a moment.
"Yeah. Thanks, Cindy," Kitty said, as she watched the pert young blonde turn and vanish pretty quickly down the hallway. Watching her an extra second, she felt a sort of impending doom sensation in the pit of her stomach, and she reminded herself she was here to apologize, not grovel for forgiveness. Especially with the way his expression had tightened on seeing her.
He hadn't expected her. He hadn't truly looked like he'd wanted her there either.
Pulling a deep breath in slowly between pursed lips, he watched her turn around and face him. Then he wished someone would have kicked him because the first thing he noticed was how, in this harsh bright yellow light of the motel, she still looked beautiful. The sleeplessness, the alcohol, and the anger hadn't made it any duller. Somehow it simply shot right through all of it to make that ache he'd been nursing just hurt more.
Brown fawn eyes just stared at him, as neither of them made a move to say anything. He could tell she looked a little sleep deprived herself and nervous. She looked pretty awake though, against him who was halfway gone. But then he'd been in an attempt to pretty much drink himself to sleep. It'd worked the past two nights. She cleared her throat and asked just what he'd been dreading to hear.
"So, can I come in?"
Pete stared at her a moment longer, wondering just what it was that had brought her here. Then he pushed the door open, letting it hit the wall with a slight thud where the doorknob hit the wall first and caused it to bounce back.
"Sure. Make yourself at home," he said as he finished his cigarette and turned to go find an astray and put it out. He knew he hadn't made it sound inviting. What'd she think? She'd just show up here three days later and he'd be all happy to see her?
Well, he wasn't. And he was. What more did she want now?
Not saying anything to make up for the mess, he started to button his shirt. The bed was unmade, and a comforter was thrown off of it, half across the bottom edge of it, part in the space between it and the wall. The couch was littered with this and that of his stuff and an open bag. The table between the couch and the TV was covered in smaller and larger bottles and cans, all empty, plus one slightly open but now two day old pizza. TV was running a movie, volume on low.
"Nice place," she said, her voice slightly wavering, the irony in her tone easy for him to pick out, as he watched her eyes go over the room.
"You don't like it." Pete replied, his voice very slightly slurred. "Sorry, I'll find a bett'r room to accommodate yer visit. Eighteenth century décor more yer style?"
She'd winced when he'd put such an emphasis on the word 'visit', but he was decidedly not going to make it any easier for her. He'd only waited how many days now before she got off her high horse and found him? How long?
"Fine," she answered after a moment, and took a seat on the edge of the couch, at the opposite end from where he was. She didn't look comfortable at all, and he wondered if he liked that either. "I deserved that. It's not the worse place we have in Salem Center though. I've seen Logan in worse."
Kitty didn't react when Pete slightly snorted at the comment, watching him slide half the TV table's contents into a trashcan right next to it, and then set the bottle that she'd brought for him down on the table. Still in the paper bag. It could have been anything. It wasn't though. It was a rather large bottle of Scotch. Good, expensive scotch and one of his favored brands of it. Well, it had been when they were dating.
She looked at the floor as this silence passed. He didn't say anything and she didn't say anything. He glanced at her now and then. She seemed to be intently reading a label on a can of beer. Bad beer, remarked his mind. Very bad. Americans didn't have the best taste for the 'finer' things. Or at least this place didn't.
"This isn't working, is it?"
For about half a minute he wondered if she'd actually said something, until she looked up at him from the couch. Her conscience might as well have been in her eyes. She looked down at her hands again, where they rested on her jeans in her lap. He was almost glad she had, because when she started talking the pain in her voice started to get to him so much he knew if she'd actually been looking at him he might actually have to go hug her, or find a way to make her stop.
"There were reasons we both went different ways months ago. A child can't solve that, and even though it's not its fault, maybe trying to make it work out only makes it worse - for all involved. We've got two different lives in two different worlds, in two very far apart places, Pete. I know you're not comfortable here and I know your dad's not doing so well. Romany told me so last time she called to check and see how you were doing."
He watched her take a deep breath and waited to say anything. Then she went on.
"I know I haven't been much of a help to any of that since the moment you showed up. I never even thanked you for showing up so fast or for staying around. For dropping anything and everything that you had going on at that moment in your life, regardless of not knowing about it. And with things getting worse for your dad, and Romany being alone, you could- I mean, I'd understand if you want to go to them."
"Pryde-" he started, but she hadn't finished and she went right over him.
"And if you don't come back." Emotion thick in her voice, Kitty was staring hard at the wood of the coffee table now. She'd practiced what she was going to say hundreds of times in her shower, dressing, and driving here.and now she feared she might break into tears if she didn't stop herself. "I won't make you stay somewhere you don't want to, and as you already pointed out I don't need help getting any money. I'll..I'll understand if you don't want to be here."
"Yer already an X-Men, Kitty, are y'u goin' to make having a baby a martyr's cause, too?" Tapping a cigarette against his hand, the urge to have another one over powered by the fact he wouldn't while she was here, for the same reason he hadn't been doing it whenever she was around now. He concentrated on her health and the baby's for the time being. He frowned when she'd actually visibly flinched at his words.
"I could have left any time I want'd. There are flights that leave anytime of day 'r night. If being home was more important th'n being here at the moment, that's where I'd be. It's not yet a dire emergency for me to be at the old coot's side. An' you-"
He stopped and stared at her for a second. Something didn't seem right. He watched her back and shoulders shake from behind the couch and watched her pick up a hand to her face. Was she crying? She sniffled suddenly and that confirmed it for him. She was crying. Well, that cut through stuff. She was sitting on his couch crying now.
And he was still just standing there behind her.
"Pryde?"
"I'm okay, Pete. Just give me a moment." She sniffled, again, and her arm moved like she was wiping off her face. Her voice came out slightly strangled now. "And maybe a tissue."
As he started to ravage through the bag on the couch next to her, she took a few deep breaths and started calming herself down. She was fine. She was fine. She was fine. She really, really was. She didn't need to be here crying in front of him. It was almost too humiliating now.
"Here," he said and held something out to her.
As she reached out to take the hank kerchief that had come from almost the bottom of his bag, he actually looked at her face. She looked away a second later but it was a piercing feeling where it was a dull ache inside him. Four months ago he would have gathered her into his arms and either made it better or let her cry until she couldn't cry anymore.
Now it was this uncomfortable oddness of having no clue at all what he should do- what he was still allowed to do.
"What's wrong?"
Kitty laughed, and put her face in her hands when laughing had caused more tears. It was funny though, for some reason she couldn't quite lay her finger on at the moment. He was asking what was wrong not with this curious sound of concern but like he knew something devastating had happened. Moving to wipe her face with the handkerchief, she still didn't move too much further than having her elbows on her knees and staying there.
"It's nothing really," she said, trying to make herself sound convincing. The fact that her voice cracked in the center of the sentence wasn't helping at all either. "It's not that bad."
More silence passed and it seemed like an eternity and a huge effort just to make herself say something. Especially after he reached out and very tentatively touched her shoulder. She hadn't even noticed that he'd moved the bag and sat down next to her till then. Looking up at him, she felt this wave inside her starting to crest. She hated it being there. She hated herself for crying like a child in front of him.
Pete was decidedly liking not knowing what to with her less and less as this progressed. Once she looked up it hurt like hell not to know, because the pain in her eyes seemed huge, because of the fact she didn't cry usually unless something large was happening. Reaching up to wipe at her face, just as more tears formed at the edges of her eyes, he watched her tilt her head as if thinking, even though she didn't turn away, just look away this time.
"It's just everything. It's everyone on tip toes at home, not sure whether to be disapproving or compassionate. It's about everyone leaving to go do grand and glorious things as non mutants. It's-" she managed to stop herself before she said it was him being near her again. "It's like everything's just falling apart, and the more I try to make something fit or work right now, the more it just falls apart."
After her last words she winced slightly, and shook her head, sounding rueful of herself. "And now I'm crying, again, and because of it I'm getting a head ache."
Well, in truth it had probably all started the day before. She'd started getting this headache a day before. It only hurt a lot when she cried. It seemed to amplify it. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to come here and start crying in front of you. I really just meant to come tell you I was sorry and--"
"Pryde, it's all right." Pete pulled a pillow out from one side of him and held it out for her. "Here, have a pillow. Lay down fer a few minutes before you go back, maybe it'll help get rid of yer headache."
He'd meant on the bed, because he could sit here and watch the telly, and let her sleep it off a bit if she was willing. So he felt a bit startled when she suddenly curled up on the couch, with her head less than a few inches from his leg. He relaxed after a few seconds, and then tensed back up again when she started shaking and crying almost soundlessly again, except for the fact he could see tears roll down one of her cheeks on profile.
This was torture he decided. Complete torture. Not knowing what he was supposed to do, or not do, and watching her first sit there, and now lay there in so much pain. Trying to keep it from him, even now. After going between watching her and watching the telly for a minute or two, he reached out and started stroking her hair softly.
It was a while before she calmed down completely and her breathing became completely normal, with no sound in that time but the television speaking and her randomly timed sniffles. Neither of them saying anything during the time. Just her there, and him there. He'd thought she'd fallen asleep at the point when her voice actually startled him.
"Pete?"
"Yeah?" He said, taking his hand away from her hair, even though doing it seemed like a harder chore than thinking about pulling it away.
"Why are you still here?" she asked, moving for a moment and fluffing her pillow, and setting it back. This time against his leg without realizing it.
"Because the hotel rates are good. There's no Romany to make me get out of bed at dawn, and that place down the street makes good grits," he said, glancing over at her head facing away from where he was thinking that among the few things he was there simply for her. That was it. That was all he needed.
He heard her yawn and watched her move to wrap her arms around herself, and wondered if he even knew what was happening on the television or could tell anyone what the program had been that was ending, since he seemed to be just watching her. About ten minutes passed in silence, complete and utter silence after he turned the TV off, and just leaned against the back of the couch, and she surprised him again.
"Pete?"
He nearly jumped at not expecting her voice and realizing he had been falling asleep, too. He blinked his eyes at the near darkness of the room, save the one lamp on the bed behind them. "Hmm?"
"Would you come stay in the mansion?" she mumbled, the end of the sentence slightly tilted by a yawn that followed.
He looked at her laying against his leg, thinking about moving her to the bed and just sleeping on the couch. Not making her drive home at all till she rested. "I'm not sure th' rest of yer friends would feel
I belong there. They don' like me much."
It seemed a long time before she answered again, and at that point she yawned, again, and mumbled. "Oh...that's my fault, too."
He seemed a bit surprised by that answer, "W'ot?"
Silence seemed to reign supreme for moments on end, so he shifted partly.
"Pryde?"
Turning slightly so he'd be able to look down at her he realized she was fast asleep, her hair loose across her cheek and her back, making her look against tonight's actions very peaceful. He looked around the room for a moment, and decided this was definitely not what he expected of the am hours of this new day. It seemed better than yesterday, if a bit more confusing, but better nonetheless.
To Be Continued..
Disclaimer: Main ones are Marvel characters, some will be mine, too, so don't sue because *looking around her room* I am just a happy, but poor college student. I don't have the money for those prosecuting and if i do *smirk* you can't have it because i need it for more comics.
Feedback: Very much welcome. I'll welcome any kind of feedback good or bad, but flamers don't make me tie anyone down. I've over and done with that but I'm sure i can find something to stake you down with and some creatures to leave to play with you.
Adoration's, Praise and Acknowledgments: To Tangles, Luba, and Winter, who all were ecstatic that there was finally more to this story.
To Luba, my present beta, cause her praise is enough to keep me writing more. To Winter, cause he loves her and sometime makes me think of things Pete would do. And Tangle Toy who is my push behind me getting to finish this story, because she loved it so much way back when I started it. Love to you all, you're the BEST!
After Uncanny X-Men #379 and before X-Men #99.
--------------
Part XIV: "One step back, Two steps forward"
--------------
She looked out the glass, her fingertips pressed against it. There was a grand scene outside. There were bright green trees older than her oldest living relative was. There were hills of rolling green, bright green grass that spoke of the coming summer for this state. Just beyond the rise of the furthest hill was a lake. So large and free. Black as its reflection of the sky, and dotted by the same early morning's stars.
Closing her eyes, she let her forehead rest on the cool glass of the sliding door, feeling her surroundings. It wasn't a feeling inside her anymore. It wasn't the emotions of everything beyond her. It was gentle feelings at the edges of her senses. The ebb and flow of power that wasn't hers but the world's around her. It brought something to her, though this morning, when she was supposed to be asleep, that she hadn't expected.
"Lee?"
The voice came from the back of the building she stood in and it made her lips curl slowly into a smile. Her eyes opened slowly taking in the darkness outside the glass door and feet away to the ground. They rested on the furthest point of the lake where the moon reflected on the lake showing how late it still was. Beautiful moon, too, she noted, looking from the reflection to the sky.
"Lee?"
Kylie had a double reaction when he called out the second time. First she found it slightly amusing, and then she found it annoying almost in a sad way. He couldn't 'just tell' where she was. Which in turn meant the same for him. For a second she bit her tongue staring out into that darkness, as she perceived this new turn of events again. They wouldn't ever be inside each other's minds again.
"In the living room," she called out over her shoulder. Even though she heard him coming down the hallway before she finished her sentence, and waited for a moment for him to emerge from the hallway. He was wearing the black jeans and a black shirt, underneath a long black trench coat. His sunglasses were hanging at his collar, a comfort to her, because she loved his eyes even as they were.
For a moment she smiled at the simplicity of the way he was dressed all in black, compared to what she was wearing. She had on light blue bellbottoms with colorful butterflies all around her pants, and a light floral white shirt that only buttoned in the center, with long sleeves and synched wrists. What a duo of difference they made. It made her smile wider, infectiosly so, since she watched her brother smile looking at her.
"All packed?"
"Yep," Kylie nodded, and pointed to the bags by the door. "Whenever you are."
"Two bags only?" Kyle asked curiously.
"I didn't think I'd need much. Some of my favorite clothes and my new lap top." She rubbed her hands together for a few seconds as she thought about this place. They'd barely been here a month even and they were already headed to somewhere else.
"I left a few boxes of ours to be shipped by Donovan in an hour or two to the house in Paris. The donation people will come pick up everything else in a few hours. Everything's already in order. If we need anything, its not like we can't buy it on the way," she finished with only a hint of the smile she'd had. The money wasn't an important thing to either of them. It was simply a fact. They had disgusting amounts of money at their fingertips.
After their foster parents' death they'd learned fast how to manage it between their parents' people and themselves. No matter how much they spent a year, no matter how much they donated, no matter how much they simply gave away, it kept coming in. More and more each year. And, of course the world knew, they were the billionaire Chartez twins, left all the money, houses, companies and so much more by their parents' fatal accident.
"Let's get going then," Kyle said, and Kylie found herself wondering just exactly what he might be thinking at the moment. It was going to be something she knew she'd wonder about for the rest of her life now. She wasn't sure she was fond of that notion at all.
~*~*~
Knock, knock.
"Sir?"
Knock, knock.
"Excuse me, Sir?"
Knock, knock.
"Sir? Are you awake?"
Knock, kno-
"What in the bleedin' hell do you want at this hour?"
Suddenly the door was thrown halfway back by a devilish looking figure, with messy hair, and dark foggy eyes surrounded by shadowed bags from little sleep. His attire didn't even match his comment. There were no sleeping clothes. Simply rumpled work clothes it looked to the girl. The only thing that even looked like he might have been resting was the fact his shirt was loose and unbuttoned, hanging around him like a second skin.
His eyes narrowed on her speculatively and the girl felt her stomach do a little flop. She didn't usually do anything to customers, but then most of your customers didn't look they could ever do anything to you. She wasn't so sure about this man. Especially the way he smelled of alcohol and almost seemed to barely cling to the cigarette in one of his hands like he wasn't noticing it at all.
"Do you know what time it is?"
"A package for you was brought to the front desk with express understanding that it should be given to you now, sir," the girl said, holding out a brown paper bag whose upper edge closed around a bottle top. An obvious dead giveaway to what it was of course. The girl tucked at her straw blonde hair nervously as he looked from it back to her.
"There's no name," the man in room one-forty-one replied after looking in the bag a moment. "Who sent this?"
"Umm," the woman looked a little nervous, glancing off down the hallway to her right for a second. "A young woman. Light skin. Dark eyes. She was looking for you by name. Something about you telling her you were here. I don't think she gave me her name."
Watching something dawn in his eyes, the way he looked from the bottle to her, she really wished she could just turn around and leave. This was not a normal procedure. He seemed to grip the bottle a bit closer to him now, and he was faintly swinging it at her when he spoke. He put his cigarette back up to his lips, and as she watched a thin trail of smoke leave him a second later, he began to speak again, his expression fully cynical.
"She leave a message or anything else?"
"No, si-"
"Yes-" another voice answered and forced the door he'd so purposely opened only slightly open more, as the person grabbed the door. And who was it? Of course. The other ruddy person who would be here at this point. Light skin. Dark eyes. She was looking for you by name. Something about telling her you were here. He was looking at her as she spoke, even though he was caught between the urge to wring her neck till she stopped breathing or hug her until he couldn't hold on anymore.
"She wants you to know she's been a colossal jerk and that she's sorry," Kitty said with a hand still pressed on the door, that he was holding pretty firmly.
"Can I go back to the desk now?" the girl next to them piped up. They both turned their heads to look at her, almost like they might have forgotten she was there for a moment.
"Yeah. Thanks, Cindy," Kitty said, as she watched the pert young blonde turn and vanish pretty quickly down the hallway. Watching her an extra second, she felt a sort of impending doom sensation in the pit of her stomach, and she reminded herself she was here to apologize, not grovel for forgiveness. Especially with the way his expression had tightened on seeing her.
He hadn't expected her. He hadn't truly looked like he'd wanted her there either.
Pulling a deep breath in slowly between pursed lips, he watched her turn around and face him. Then he wished someone would have kicked him because the first thing he noticed was how, in this harsh bright yellow light of the motel, she still looked beautiful. The sleeplessness, the alcohol, and the anger hadn't made it any duller. Somehow it simply shot right through all of it to make that ache he'd been nursing just hurt more.
Brown fawn eyes just stared at him, as neither of them made a move to say anything. He could tell she looked a little sleep deprived herself and nervous. She looked pretty awake though, against him who was halfway gone. But then he'd been in an attempt to pretty much drink himself to sleep. It'd worked the past two nights. She cleared her throat and asked just what he'd been dreading to hear.
"So, can I come in?"
Pete stared at her a moment longer, wondering just what it was that had brought her here. Then he pushed the door open, letting it hit the wall with a slight thud where the doorknob hit the wall first and caused it to bounce back.
"Sure. Make yourself at home," he said as he finished his cigarette and turned to go find an astray and put it out. He knew he hadn't made it sound inviting. What'd she think? She'd just show up here three days later and he'd be all happy to see her?
Well, he wasn't. And he was. What more did she want now?
Not saying anything to make up for the mess, he started to button his shirt. The bed was unmade, and a comforter was thrown off of it, half across the bottom edge of it, part in the space between it and the wall. The couch was littered with this and that of his stuff and an open bag. The table between the couch and the TV was covered in smaller and larger bottles and cans, all empty, plus one slightly open but now two day old pizza. TV was running a movie, volume on low.
"Nice place," she said, her voice slightly wavering, the irony in her tone easy for him to pick out, as he watched her eyes go over the room.
"You don't like it." Pete replied, his voice very slightly slurred. "Sorry, I'll find a bett'r room to accommodate yer visit. Eighteenth century décor more yer style?"
She'd winced when he'd put such an emphasis on the word 'visit', but he was decidedly not going to make it any easier for her. He'd only waited how many days now before she got off her high horse and found him? How long?
"Fine," she answered after a moment, and took a seat on the edge of the couch, at the opposite end from where he was. She didn't look comfortable at all, and he wondered if he liked that either. "I deserved that. It's not the worse place we have in Salem Center though. I've seen Logan in worse."
Kitty didn't react when Pete slightly snorted at the comment, watching him slide half the TV table's contents into a trashcan right next to it, and then set the bottle that she'd brought for him down on the table. Still in the paper bag. It could have been anything. It wasn't though. It was a rather large bottle of Scotch. Good, expensive scotch and one of his favored brands of it. Well, it had been when they were dating.
She looked at the floor as this silence passed. He didn't say anything and she didn't say anything. He glanced at her now and then. She seemed to be intently reading a label on a can of beer. Bad beer, remarked his mind. Very bad. Americans didn't have the best taste for the 'finer' things. Or at least this place didn't.
"This isn't working, is it?"
For about half a minute he wondered if she'd actually said something, until she looked up at him from the couch. Her conscience might as well have been in her eyes. She looked down at her hands again, where they rested on her jeans in her lap. He was almost glad she had, because when she started talking the pain in her voice started to get to him so much he knew if she'd actually been looking at him he might actually have to go hug her, or find a way to make her stop.
"There were reasons we both went different ways months ago. A child can't solve that, and even though it's not its fault, maybe trying to make it work out only makes it worse - for all involved. We've got two different lives in two different worlds, in two very far apart places, Pete. I know you're not comfortable here and I know your dad's not doing so well. Romany told me so last time she called to check and see how you were doing."
He watched her take a deep breath and waited to say anything. Then she went on.
"I know I haven't been much of a help to any of that since the moment you showed up. I never even thanked you for showing up so fast or for staying around. For dropping anything and everything that you had going on at that moment in your life, regardless of not knowing about it. And with things getting worse for your dad, and Romany being alone, you could- I mean, I'd understand if you want to go to them."
"Pryde-" he started, but she hadn't finished and she went right over him.
"And if you don't come back." Emotion thick in her voice, Kitty was staring hard at the wood of the coffee table now. She'd practiced what she was going to say hundreds of times in her shower, dressing, and driving here.and now she feared she might break into tears if she didn't stop herself. "I won't make you stay somewhere you don't want to, and as you already pointed out I don't need help getting any money. I'll..I'll understand if you don't want to be here."
"Yer already an X-Men, Kitty, are y'u goin' to make having a baby a martyr's cause, too?" Tapping a cigarette against his hand, the urge to have another one over powered by the fact he wouldn't while she was here, for the same reason he hadn't been doing it whenever she was around now. He concentrated on her health and the baby's for the time being. He frowned when she'd actually visibly flinched at his words.
"I could have left any time I want'd. There are flights that leave anytime of day 'r night. If being home was more important th'n being here at the moment, that's where I'd be. It's not yet a dire emergency for me to be at the old coot's side. An' you-"
He stopped and stared at her for a second. Something didn't seem right. He watched her back and shoulders shake from behind the couch and watched her pick up a hand to her face. Was she crying? She sniffled suddenly and that confirmed it for him. She was crying. Well, that cut through stuff. She was sitting on his couch crying now.
And he was still just standing there behind her.
"Pryde?"
"I'm okay, Pete. Just give me a moment." She sniffled, again, and her arm moved like she was wiping off her face. Her voice came out slightly strangled now. "And maybe a tissue."
As he started to ravage through the bag on the couch next to her, she took a few deep breaths and started calming herself down. She was fine. She was fine. She was fine. She really, really was. She didn't need to be here crying in front of him. It was almost too humiliating now.
"Here," he said and held something out to her.
As she reached out to take the hank kerchief that had come from almost the bottom of his bag, he actually looked at her face. She looked away a second later but it was a piercing feeling where it was a dull ache inside him. Four months ago he would have gathered her into his arms and either made it better or let her cry until she couldn't cry anymore.
Now it was this uncomfortable oddness of having no clue at all what he should do- what he was still allowed to do.
"What's wrong?"
Kitty laughed, and put her face in her hands when laughing had caused more tears. It was funny though, for some reason she couldn't quite lay her finger on at the moment. He was asking what was wrong not with this curious sound of concern but like he knew something devastating had happened. Moving to wipe her face with the handkerchief, she still didn't move too much further than having her elbows on her knees and staying there.
"It's nothing really," she said, trying to make herself sound convincing. The fact that her voice cracked in the center of the sentence wasn't helping at all either. "It's not that bad."
More silence passed and it seemed like an eternity and a huge effort just to make herself say something. Especially after he reached out and very tentatively touched her shoulder. She hadn't even noticed that he'd moved the bag and sat down next to her till then. Looking up at him, she felt this wave inside her starting to crest. She hated it being there. She hated herself for crying like a child in front of him.
Pete was decidedly liking not knowing what to with her less and less as this progressed. Once she looked up it hurt like hell not to know, because the pain in her eyes seemed huge, because of the fact she didn't cry usually unless something large was happening. Reaching up to wipe at her face, just as more tears formed at the edges of her eyes, he watched her tilt her head as if thinking, even though she didn't turn away, just look away this time.
"It's just everything. It's everyone on tip toes at home, not sure whether to be disapproving or compassionate. It's about everyone leaving to go do grand and glorious things as non mutants. It's-" she managed to stop herself before she said it was him being near her again. "It's like everything's just falling apart, and the more I try to make something fit or work right now, the more it just falls apart."
After her last words she winced slightly, and shook her head, sounding rueful of herself. "And now I'm crying, again, and because of it I'm getting a head ache."
Well, in truth it had probably all started the day before. She'd started getting this headache a day before. It only hurt a lot when she cried. It seemed to amplify it. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to come here and start crying in front of you. I really just meant to come tell you I was sorry and--"
"Pryde, it's all right." Pete pulled a pillow out from one side of him and held it out for her. "Here, have a pillow. Lay down fer a few minutes before you go back, maybe it'll help get rid of yer headache."
He'd meant on the bed, because he could sit here and watch the telly, and let her sleep it off a bit if she was willing. So he felt a bit startled when she suddenly curled up on the couch, with her head less than a few inches from his leg. He relaxed after a few seconds, and then tensed back up again when she started shaking and crying almost soundlessly again, except for the fact he could see tears roll down one of her cheeks on profile.
This was torture he decided. Complete torture. Not knowing what he was supposed to do, or not do, and watching her first sit there, and now lay there in so much pain. Trying to keep it from him, even now. After going between watching her and watching the telly for a minute or two, he reached out and started stroking her hair softly.
It was a while before she calmed down completely and her breathing became completely normal, with no sound in that time but the television speaking and her randomly timed sniffles. Neither of them saying anything during the time. Just her there, and him there. He'd thought she'd fallen asleep at the point when her voice actually startled him.
"Pete?"
"Yeah?" He said, taking his hand away from her hair, even though doing it seemed like a harder chore than thinking about pulling it away.
"Why are you still here?" she asked, moving for a moment and fluffing her pillow, and setting it back. This time against his leg without realizing it.
"Because the hotel rates are good. There's no Romany to make me get out of bed at dawn, and that place down the street makes good grits," he said, glancing over at her head facing away from where he was thinking that among the few things he was there simply for her. That was it. That was all he needed.
He heard her yawn and watched her move to wrap her arms around herself, and wondered if he even knew what was happening on the television or could tell anyone what the program had been that was ending, since he seemed to be just watching her. About ten minutes passed in silence, complete and utter silence after he turned the TV off, and just leaned against the back of the couch, and she surprised him again.
"Pete?"
He nearly jumped at not expecting her voice and realizing he had been falling asleep, too. He blinked his eyes at the near darkness of the room, save the one lamp on the bed behind them. "Hmm?"
"Would you come stay in the mansion?" she mumbled, the end of the sentence slightly tilted by a yawn that followed.
He looked at her laying against his leg, thinking about moving her to the bed and just sleeping on the couch. Not making her drive home at all till she rested. "I'm not sure th' rest of yer friends would feel
I belong there. They don' like me much."
It seemed a long time before she answered again, and at that point she yawned, again, and mumbled. "Oh...that's my fault, too."
He seemed a bit surprised by that answer, "W'ot?"
Silence seemed to reign supreme for moments on end, so he shifted partly.
"Pryde?"
Turning slightly so he'd be able to look down at her he realized she was fast asleep, her hair loose across her cheek and her back, making her look against tonight's actions very peaceful. He looked around the room for a moment, and decided this was definitely not what he expected of the am hours of this new day. It seemed better than yesterday, if a bit more confusing, but better nonetheless.
To Be Continued..