••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Chapter Forty-Six: Cigarette Wishes and Face-Punching Dreams

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Tires screeching on the rain slickened blacktop, a decade-old minivan came to a rickety, bone-jarring stop in front of Bayville High. Grumbling somewhat about having to be at school so early, Fred and Todd exited the van, carefully ducking inside before they could be seen getting out of the mechanical monstrosity, but Nat lingered behind. Her fingers dug into the edge of the seat, and the rough fabric that bit into her palms didn't seem to bother her. Her face was washed-out and looked oddly stiff as she gazed up at the pastel-walled stucco building, teeth chattering.

Lance frowned and turned around in his seat, his impatience waning when he saw the expression of anxiety on the girl's pale face. With a sigh that went beyond irritation and into that rarely dredged well of empathy somewhere deep inside him, he swung the van into a nearby parking spot and cut the engine. The driver of a small silver sedan that had been heading for the spot swore at him loudly, but he ignored them and rattled the keychains in the ignition. He looked a little bored, and for several long minutes, he didn't even attempt to make conversation.

Finally, Nat's own edginess at the unaccustomed silence wore through, and she cleared her throat. Lance glanced at her and took her faint sound as his opportunity to speak. "You nervous?"

Nat swallowed her immediate response of terrified admission, peeling her hands off of the seat and rubbing them together out of uneasy habit. "A little."

"Looks like more than a little, if you ask me."

Nat rolled her green eyes, trying to appear uninterested in conversation. "Well, I didn't, but thanks."

A scowl crossed Lance's features, and he scratched at the patchy stubble that was appearing on his chin. "I was just askin'. You don't have to jump down my throat just 'cause you and Maximoff aren't getting along."

"Why? What'd he say to you?"

Lance grinned, his eyes going wide. "Well, that got your attention, didn't it?"

Sighing, Nat gazed downward at her lap and the intertwined hands there, forcing herself to separate her fingers and smooth the front of her sweater. This wasn't the time to look silly, or to cling to a habit that really wasn't necessary anymore. She could control herself better than that now, she hoped. "Yeah, well…he's got some sort of idea in his head that I owe him something for bringing me to you guys."

"Don't you? Seems to me that we were the best choice you've made in a long while."

"You don't know anything about my choices, now or ever before. What makes you think you do?"

"Don't know." He shrugged, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of the ashtray near his right knee and tossing one in Nat's direction when he caught a glimpse of her hungry stare, not bothering to send back the lighter. He knew as well as she did that she didn't require a manufactured flame. "But I do know that you need us now."

Nat was silent for a long while, rolling the delicate tube back and forth between her fingers, trying to appreciate it for the sickly sweet smell of tobacco and the dry feeling of the paper against her skin, rather than the impending sense of power that the upcoming blaze would bring. Nicotine was nothing anymore: it was the feeling of her recently acquired new self surging forth, licking at the cigarette with tongues of heat and catching it on fire, that she craved. Squeezing her throat tightly shut, she pinched the filter so it would be difficult to hold in her mouth, lest the temptation become too great, and stuffed it into her pocket, unused, unlit, and dangerously close to tearing.

Lance continued, watching the girl out of the corner of his eye as she pocketed his gift, wondering why Magneto and Pietro had been so intent on capturing this meager prize. "And I also know that you're scared outta your skin to go into that school. Trust me, I understand." He grinned. "Then again, I'm guessin' you're not worried about a test you missed or somethin'."

Nat smiled weakly. "Not exactly."

There was another protracted silence. "Worried about seeing them? The Xavier guys?"

A small nod. "Pretty much."

Rattling the keys again for a moment, he turned them in the ignition and the engine roared back to life suddenly, making Nat jump in her seat. "Just stick near Pietro. If they bug you, have him drive you home. I'll talk to him if he gives you a hard time about it."

Swallowing her fear and trying to calm her battering heart, Nat slid out of the seat and onto the sidewalk beside the van, giving Lance an appreciative smile as she nodded again. "S-see you later, then."

"Yeah. Later."

As the van tore out of the parking lot, Nat looked up at the school, with a few dozen students milling around outside, chatting and copying homework for first period classes. She saw a few familiar faces, but none of the ones she dreaded seeing, and considered skipping third block to avoid running into Evan.

Quelling her trepidation with a few comforting words muttered under her breath, Nat walked up the steps into Bayville High School, feeling a little wobbly in the knees, but holding herself steady.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"If ya don't hurry up, Ah'm gonna give ya reason enough ta be late, Kitty Pryde!"

Kitty flipped her ponytail in that oh-so-very prissy way that she used to deliberately annoy Rogue and reached for her lipliner. "Oh, would you, like, just relax! We've got ten minutes before class starts. Since when have you been so concerned about punctuality, anyway?" She batted her eyelashes in the locker-mounted mirror, trying not to laugh at the seething rage emanating from her companion. Her makeup wasn't really that important to her, but it was more than a little enjoyable to irritate Rogue by making her stand around through a more thorough application.

"Ah don't give a damn about bein' late, Pryde, but if Ah have to stand here and watch you primp for one more second Ah'm gonna blow a gasket!"

Rolling her eyes, Kitty reached into the locker and grabbed the fine white strap of her backpack, tossing it over her shoulder. "Oh, fine, I'm ready. You can unclench now."

The two girls continued on down the hallway, bickering good-naturedly as they approached the door to the economics classroom, with its life-sized poster of Adam Smith greeting the students that entered. As they passed, Rogue nonchalantly reached out a hand and stuck a giant glob of chewed grape bubble gum smack dab in the center of Adam's semi-gloss, dreary face, smirking as she did so.

Kitty was in mid-protest when her face went suddenly pale, her eyes gazing just past Rogue and into the milling crowds of teenagers behind her. Rogue frowned and turned, her nose wrinkling as she searched for the cause of Kitty's apparent distress. The younger girl grabbed her by the carefully clothed elbow and tried to steer her into the open doorway of the classroom, but Rogue wrenched her arm away.

Sounding a little whiny but more distraught, Kitty tried to reclaim her grasp. "C-come on, Rogue, we've got to get to class. W-we're gonna be, like, you know, late or something."

Rogue screwed up her face and stared at her companion in unmasked confusion. "Ya just said we've got time! What's goin' on?" She turned and surveyed the crowd again just as the warning bell sounded, and the hallways gradually began to clear.

One figure, a dark-haired, fair-skinned girl in a tattered sweater and jeans that didn't seem to fit well, moved just a little too slowly to disappear into the shouting, seething masses as they thinned and went their separate ways. Rogue's eyes flew open wide, and her gloved hands tightened into fists. Kitty reached for her elbow and missed by a mere millimeter or two. The girl down the hall caught their eyes and suddenly blanched and turned on her heel. She tried to look casual as she walked down the hall too quickly to be at a normal stride.

With a few broad footsteps powered by the steam of pure ire, Rogue grabbed Nat's shoulder and whirled her around. Rogue's upper lip curled and she glowered down at the shorter girl, who was staring up with eyes the size of golf balls, her entire body tensed and ready for the confrontation.

"Ya've got a lotta nerve showin' up here unannounced and all, ya know. That's just plain rude."

Kitty caught up with her teammate and stood a few steps behind her, her small fists balled up under her chin in an almost comical display of unfocused terror. She chewed on her lip in apprehension, staring at the two older girls and just a little too afraid to intervene.

Nat swallowed and tried to steady her wavering breath. "R-rogue, I'm just here to go to class."

"Like hell ya are, Traitor." She leaned forward and spat out the word like it was poison, stinging Nat's insides with a gummy venom. Kitty began to squirm in overt discomfort, and Nat pressed her lips tightly together, trying to stifle the urge to push Rogue out of her face.

"Don't call me that."

"An' just why not? Ya ain't done anything lately that makes me consider ya anythin' else!"

"I'm no more a traitor to the X-Men than you are to the Brotherhood, so I don't—"

There was a moment when time seemed to hold still, and Nat saw Rogue's face coming at her for what felt like an eternity before she felt the weight of a well-aimed fist strike her midsection. It was a mild one, meant more to warn her back than to hurt her, but she felt the air rush from her lungs all the same. Kitty shrieked and leaped forward, her hands shaking as she fought the desire to jump in at either girl's defense.

Nat doubled over, trying to regain the oxygen she had lost, and failed to do so for several long, painful seconds. She leaned against her palms on a nearby locker, pounding on the metal in a panicky bid to force herself into control. Her eyes started to water as she laboriously gasped and heaved for air, until she was finally able to pull a timid, achy breath into her lungs. She spun around to face her former teammate, tears stinging at her eyes from both sadness and anger, more prominently the latter.

Rogue looked surprised at herself for a moment, but her fury returned full-fledged when Nat regained her breath. "You an' Ah are nothin' alike! Ah ain't a murderer!"

Stunned, Nat went a little lax, her hands falling limply at her sides. Between gasps, she whispered, "Is he…"

Kitty took this as her cue to enter the conversation, pushing gently past Rogue and standing beside her, facing Nat with angry eyes. "He's alive, no thanks to you."

Irritation flashed across Nat's face. "I didn't do anything, at least not anything on purpose! I don't know what happened, but I didn't do it!" A vein jumped in her forehead, and she felt her cheeks color with wrath. "You honestly think I would hurt the professor after he took me in?"

"When he took ya in after ya torched your old school, ya mean." Rogue asked, holding her palms outward. "Ah'm not sure that argument makes a whole heck of a lot of sense, Fairbanks."

"Screw you!"

Kitty shook her head, and shouted, "Knock it of, both of you! You're being, like, totally immature! You can't go fighting in the hallways like a couple of idiots. You think no one's going to stop you and expel you both?" She glanced nervously around, where a few passing students stopped momentarily, but generally moved on quickly, sensing the intensity of the situation.

Rogue shot her an angry glare. "Ah don't care! Logan's been lookin' for her for days, and here she comes, just waltzin' on in like she has any right to be here at all!"

"It's a public school, you know! I've just as much right as you do to be here, you so-called X-Man!" Nat stopped, surprised at herself, and Kitty's eyes went somehow wider. Nat's mouth felt suddenly dry.

When had she started to think about it as "us" and "them", and since when had the X-Men been them? And when did she begin to consider Rogue the traitor? Her intestines felt knotted and queer, and seemed to roil painfully in her stomach.

It was Kitty that reacted this time, pushing her teammate out of the way and standing mere inches in front of Nat, fuming. Her cheeks were pink, and her teeth looked sharper and more menacing when she bared them in a snarling glare. "You haven't got any right to question her loyalty! You turned your back on the man who took you in, and the person that cared about you the most!" She rose a finger in Nat's face, wagging it irritatingly close to her nose. When she spoke again, her voice was menacingly low. "If you'd cared about any of us even, like, a tiny bit, if you'd cared about Kurt, you'd never have been able to do what you did and run from it like a gutless little coward."

The atmosphere seemed to crackle around the girls, and Nat could feel an angry heat sidling up her vertebrae. She subdued it instantly, knowing that the passing students hadn't yet cleared the halls, and aware, even in her current state, that she couldn't lose control.

Her fist, however, she wasn't able to stop.

She could practically hear the whistling of the air as her balled-up hand cut through it, and was entirely prepared to hear the sound of Kitty's nose cracking, to feel the pain of her knuckles striking flesh and bone, and was surprised when she wasn't greeted with it. Instead, she felt a different pain, as an unexpected intruder caught her fist in mid-arc, holding it firmly.

When the heat of the moment had somewhat passed, she turned and faced Pietro, who was looking at her with annoyance etched on his features.

Kitty had her arms shielding her face in an expert martial arts block she'd learned from Logan, and it took her a moment or two to realize that her attacker had been stopped. She slowly lowered her arms, and she and Rogue stared at Pietro too, both of them still too surprised to speak.

He shrugged. "Can't keep your eyes off her for ten minutes, can you?" He grinned and grasped Nat by the forearm, yanking her hard enough that she was lifted off her feet, and the two of them were gone in a flash and a blur of rapid movement as they disappeared out the high front doors.

Nat groaned and reached for a nearby tree trunk when they abruptly stopped in the courtyard outside the school, loosing her balance and feeling a little queasy. Pietro watched her closely, a look of vague amusement on his features. Nausea welled up inside her and she tried to keep from vomiting onto the grass, holding her head between her hands to steady herself.

"What was that all about?" Pietro asked, a hint of humor in his voice.

Pausing before she spoke, Nat slowly lowered herself onto the grass, still somewhat green around the gills. "What d-do you think it was about, stupid?"

He shrugged. "You stealing one of Rogue's old sweaters?"

She gagged a bit and rolled her eyes, starting to feel a little better. "Shove it."

"Now, that's not what I expected to hear."

Nat glared up at him, barking, "Why'd you stop me? I wanted to hit her, and maybe even break something!"

"No you didn't."

She rose unsteadily to her feet, a tad too quickly for her tremulous stomach, and trembled a little on her feet. "Oh, I'm so tired of people telling me what I think, and what I feel, and what I want to fucking do!" She brandished a fist, but it looked small and unthreatening. "I really feel like hitting someone, so if you don't get out of my way…"

"What, you'll make fun of my mental stability again, like you did at breakfast?" He rolled his eyes. "Ouch."

Nat sagged, dropping her fist to her side. She closed her eyes, raising her fingers to her pounding temple. "Fine. Fine, whatever." She walked slowly back toward the school, pushing past Pietro as if he weren't there, but heading along the side instead of re-entering the front doors.

"Hey! Where…where are you going?" He asked toward her departing back, trying to keep that annoying note of interested desperation from creeping into his voice again.

Nat kept walking, almost as if she hadn't heard him, before she responded a few long moments later. "I don't know." She turned suddenly, meeting his gaze. Her expression was contorted, but tired and lacking solid conviction. "I just need to think."

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"That her?"

He ignored his partner's too-loud questioning, refocusing the binoculars and raising them to his eyes again.

"I said, is that her?" Jason demanded, grabbing the binoculars from Harry's large fist, and getting shoved roughly back into the passenger seat of the car for his effort. He rubbed his shoulder and pouted, looking injured. "I was just asking."

Harry spun around and faced the younger man, glaring under his heavy eyebrows. "So stop asking! If I knew it was her and there was an option of doing something about it, don't you think I'd say something?"

Jason shrugged. "I dunno."

"Well, I would, you little jerk-off, so shut the hell up and sit down! I can't keep the binoculars still if you keep bouncing around over there."

"Fine," Jason sulked. There was a long pause. "Hey, you got anymore of those Fritos?"

"God damn it, Jason—"

"Oh, here they are. Never mind." Loud, satisfied crunching filled the cab, followed by a belch that practically made the vehicle vibrate, and Harry gritted his teeth against the transgression. At least the moron wasn't drunk this time.

"You think you can be a little quieter?"

Jason frowned. "Why? You can't hear anything through binoculars, can you?"

"Christ, I swear—" Harry barked.

"Don't say that."

"Huh?"

"Lord's name in vain. Offensive and some shit."

"Would you shut the fuck up? I'm tryin' to keep an eye on the kid, and you're not makin' it any easier! I swear, if we manage to snag her it'll be an act of heaven's mercy, not good freakin' teamwork." He shook his head, trying to dislodge thoughts of knocking the younger F.O.H. member unconscious and tying him to the back of the truck.

Harrumphing loudly, Jason kicked his feet up on the dashboard and folded his arms across his chest in a childish display of nastiness. "Fine then! Maybe I'll just take a nap or somethin'. Then maybe I won't be able to be so annoying."

At least you won't be making any noise, Harry thought, but he just nodded and ignored his partner. Within minutes, Jason was snoring like a chainsaw, and Harry was ready to simply open the door and let him tumble onto the pavement like the lump of useless clay he was.

Instead, he gritted his teeth and went on watching the girl as she disappeared behind the school, following her every move until she was out of sight.