Pietro, Fred and Todd sat around the small table, waiting for the moment when Lance would resurface. Pietro was finding the time agonisingly slow and it seemed that with every stolen glance at the clock the hands never showed any intention of moving.

None of the boys talked. They had found that after the horrific events of last night there were no words to say. They were content to contribute to a stiff atmosphere of drummed fingers on the tabletops and the occasional clearing of throats, always watching the clock. Watching and waiting.

It was Todd who spoke first, glancing up from his folded hands in his lap.

"Did.. Did anyone speak to Lance last night?"

The question hung stifling in the air. Fred winced at the name of their team-mate, the boy who had taken somebody's life.

"I did," Pietro put in his best efforts to speak slowly. He really wanted to be running right then, running and not stopping for a very long time.

"He alright?" Todd pressed, knowing immediately what a stupid question it was.

"What do you think?" whispered the white-haired boy in acid tones as he remembered seeing Lance break into pieces.

"He was shaking," Pietro said, his tone changing and face softening. "I tried to give him food and he-started-retching-really-badly-and-had-a-panic- attack." He took a breath before continuing, vowing not to let the memory get him into a state. "He couldn't breathe and I didn't know what to do. You know, even then he was trying to hold back except I eventually broke him and," Pietro felt slightly guilty to be making this confession. "Lance cried."

"Fuck," muttered Todd. Fred still stayed silent, staring at his shoelaces and only half-listening.

"He was completely shattered, Todd, you wouldn't have recognised him." Pietro ran a hand through his hair, not noticing the growing look of suspicion on the youngest Brother's eyes.

"We all have to help him through this," Pietro continued, sounding in Todd's eyes like a false preacher. "It'll be hard but we can do it. I mean, we have to for Lance's sake."

"What happened to you, 'Tro?" hissed Todd as his eyes narrowed. "This ain't you speakin'. Why are you acting like this?"

The speed demon's eye twitched, revealing rage but he repressed it with a deep breath.

"Someone's got to help him, Todd."

The younger boy mimicked him in a simpering voice, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

"Since when did you care about other people anyway?"

Pietro glared, but knew there was good reason for such a question. Acting like a egotistical maniac was his defence mechanism, a way of preventing people from seeing his pathetically soft centre. Lance had seen the real him yesterday, but Todd and Fred had yet to know he was anything but a selfish and spoilt coward.

"Lance needs help," he replied curtly. "Besides, he kind of grows on you, you know?"

"Oh yeah," Todd bared his yellow teeth a little. "Like mould."

Who did Maximoff think he was to come over all saintly on them when he had clearly never given a damn about Lance before?

"I'll check on him myself, yo," Todd added hotly and sprang up the stairs.

Pietro turned to Fred with a questioning look, but the larger mutant continued to stare into space, pretending he hadn't heard.

*

At about one o' clock that day, the three boys heard the latch on the door being opened followed by the sound of someone stepping out and carefully shutting the door behind them. They all stiffened at the sound and shared knowing looks.

Lance.

"I'll catch up with him," offered Pietro, standing at once only to be shot down by Todd's glare.

"No way. I'm doing it."

"Shut up, Toad, he doesn't trust you, you'll-"

"He doesn't trust you either, traitor!"

The two boys snarled, now both standing and raised their fists towards each other menacingly. The electric silence between them was broken by a decided, though not necessarily confident voice.

"I'll go look for him," Fred told them and stood to his full height, towering above them. There was no way either of them were going to argue with him.

*

That was the first time Lance revisited the site and stared at the long, cracked trail in the ground. Something drew him to it- perhaps it was the last thing on Earth he had to remind him of Kitty. He didn't know.

It was deeper than he remembered, like someone had reached in and gouged out handfuls of earth like a careless child.

It looked like a grave.

He had thought that his visit would stir up his emotions again and he'd break like he did last night, but standing there amongst the marks of his damage he felt little.

There was a dull pain, an ache somewhere in the centre of his chest that would not subside.

There was the throbbing pain in his head from using his powers.

There was the knowledge that nothing would ever be normal again.

But all this was bearable, as his mind seemed to have shut down the minute he walked back on to that field. He felt numb and achy and tired, but too tired to let the emotional pain take hold of him again. If he cried again like last night, he feared he would never stop.

He didn't even notice the distant figure calling his name and hardly felt the strong hand gripping his shoulder. He was barely aware that he was slowly being led home and it was only when he was finally inside and stuffed into a chair that his mind begun to return.

*

The next day Lance was found at the same site four times. Every time he was forcibly brought back, becoming more numb and subdued with each visit.

The three other boys were at a loss as to how to control him. Pietro's gentle approach worked no more than Fred's forceful 'cruel to be kind' method. Todd thought it would be best to act natural and pretend that nothing had happened, but this made their friend retreat further into himself.

They knew that Lance could not keep returning to the place of Kitty's death but argued over how to deal with it.

Todd thought that they should lock the doors and keep a closer eye on him. This angered Pietro, who believed that Lance should not be treated like a prisoner. He had to deal with his grief in his own way and if visiting that field was his choice then so be it. He'd stop it soon enough if they just left him alone.

Fred kept himself to himself as usual, listening out for the click of the door's latch.

*

Lance threw off the covers on his bed, shoving his damp hair out of his eyes. Sleep was hopeless. The minute he shut his eyes he saw Her, staring up at him with coal-black eyes in a face white as bone. Red on black, red on white, blood tears poured endlessly from her eyes. She called his name in the faraway tones of a ghost, sometimes desperate and sometimes taunting.

'Lance…… Lance…'

"I love you," he had whispered into thin air.

In his mind she laughed, a high-pitched, glass-shattering kind of noise which caused his head to throb with pain.

'You don't love me. You killed me….. You killed me!'

And as usual, Lance had forced his eyes open, throwing himself back into reality where She could not affect him. Her cold laugh echoed in his mind, tormenting him.

"No," he hissed at the voice in his mind as he pulled on his shoes. He'd forget as soon as he got back to the field. It wouldn't be a very long walk, the place was conveniently close.

Within seconds he was downstairs and out of the door, walking determinedly towards his destination. The laughter still rang in his head, but with every step closer it seemed to quieten.

He would be alright, as soon as he saw it. He knew he would. He started to run, desperate to leave the image of Kitty and her laughter behind.

A little breathless from running, he reached the field. He berated himself for the cowardly action of running away from somebody who wasn't real- not anymore. He headed straight for the chasm, realising how little he had been concentrating when he saw that the ground he was walking towards was perfectly smooth and flat.

He turned and walked the other way, keeping an eye out for the crack in the ground. It wasn't usually this hard to find, but then it was dark. No moon. Besides, it had to be somewhere. Great big holes in the ground didn't just disappear.

They didn't.

It had to be somewhere! He began to panic, staring around wildly for the gorge. Where was it? Where was it?

Becoming more and more frantic, Lance walked over every inch of the field. It shouldn't be so hard to find. It shouldn't be, unless it was-

"Gone," he whispered shakily to himself, the realisation flowing through him heavily and painfully. Someone had come and closed up the ground and in doing so, split open his heart. In a matter of seconds the safe numbness the death site had given him ebbed away, releasing the devastating grief of last night.

He didn't want to feel. He didn't want to think. He wanted the emptiness and they had taken it away!

"Gone," he repeated, this time louder. He let the last syllables morph into an anguished yell and he knelt down, scraping away at the new ground that filled his abyss.

"Gone!" he screamed, the word becoming a chant with his frenzied clawing at the ground. There was something deeply primitive about his pain and the way he expressed it.

"Lance. Lance!" the familiar voice only just reached him as a pair of burly arms gripped him, physically restraining him. He struggled in Fred's strong hold, not understanding why they wouldn't let him go.

"Lance," another pair of hands reached out for his, stopping him from gouging out chunks of earth. Todd stared at the bloodied stumps of the boy's nails and how, even when they had been removed from the ground, his hands continued to claw at thin air.

"Stop this," Todd screamed, his voice rising above Lance's chant. "We're here now."

"No no no," Lance breathed heavily, his body tiring of thrashing as Fred started to squeeze the air out of him.

It was all gone. The chasm was gone, his mind was gone, his life had gone, Kitty was gone.

"Gone," he murmured softly before passing out in his team-mate's arms.

Fred gave Todd a meaningful look and the boy nodded in response. Without another word, Fred lifted Lance effortlessly and the pair of them made their way back to the Brotherhood house.