Disclaimer: X-Men still aren't mine. I'm just here to torture them. Making no money from this, obviously. Let the games begin.
Don't try to fit this into continuity. It won't really work. If you need a time frame, I'm going with sometime shortly after X-Men 109. I have changed some details to suit me and, in case you're wondering, I'm ignoring the X-Men: Black Sun mini-series pretty much completely.
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Paper Flowers
Chapter 8 – Fallen Angels
The first thing she was aware of was the metered beep and hiss of machines close by where she lay. The sounds were like white noise, monotonous and soothing, and she was tempted to let them lull her back to sleep. Through sheer force of will, she managed to resist the urge, though she felt as if she could sleep forever.
It took her eyes a few seconds to adjust to the dim light, but she soon realized she was in the medlab, apparently hooked to nearly every machine the mansion had access to except Cerebro. She also realized, very quickly, that there wasn't any part of her body that didn't ache.
Being careful not to dislodge any probes or wires, Kitty pushed herself into a semi-sitting position, her head still full of the images from her dream.
What the hell did it all mean? What, exactly, was she supposed to have understood from that horror? And what did it mean at the last, about power, justice, knowledge, a keeper and a key? None of it made sense in the least.
Call to me. Take me up. Then you will understand.
As the voice whispered seductively into her ear, Kitty wanted to scream, to tear at her hair in frustration. Hadn't dragging her through that nightmare been enough? Was it trying to drive her mad as well? It had forced her to live through being enslaved, tortured, raped, seeing everyone and everything she loved destroyed. What more did it want of her?
We are meant to be together. We are bound. The answers you seek are before you, if you will but open your eyes.
SHUT UP!
The mental scream echoed through her mind and, thankfully, the voice of the Soulsword retreated. At least for the moment. Kitty knew it would return, would keep coming back, dragging her back into her nightmares, until she gave in.
Until that time came, though, she would keep fighting.
As she gazed around the room, Kitty initially believed herself to be alone, but closer inspection showed her to be wrong. There was someone in the bed just over from her and, unless they'd acquired another teammate with purple hair while she was out, she'd guess it to be Betsy.
Geez. We must've really done a number on eachother.
Surprisingly, neither Hank nor Cecelia seemed to be anywhere around, which Kitty found very odd. Though Dr. Reyes often went home at various times, especially at night, preferring it to life in mutant central, Dr. McCoy frequently had to be bodily removed from the lab and forced to eat or get some sleep in his own bed.
Even as she pondered the significance of this, the body in the next bed stirred slightly, turning in her direction, and a voice with a soft, upper class, English accent called out a little hoarsely.
"Kitty?"
"Sorry, Betts. Did I wake you?"
Almost before she got the words out, Betsy Braddock was beside her on the bed, hugging her gingerly, trying not to entangle herself in the wires from all the monitors Kitty was currently attached to.
"Oh, thank God. How do you feel? Do you hurt anywhere? Can you see ok? How about your hearing? Do you feel woozy or nauseous?" The questions were babbled out in such rapid succession that Kitty couldn't possibly keep up.
"Whoa, whoa, Betsy, one at a time, please. I just woke up and I have no idea what I'm doing in here. Or what you're doing in here either. Did we manage to damage each other that badly? I can't seem to remember..."
Betsy shook her head, giving Kitty a contrite look. "No, I don't think it had anything to do with our sparring match." She paused, her teeth pulling at her lower lip and Kitty wondered what could have the other woman so agitated. It wasn't like Betsy to loose her cool over anything less than a major disaster. "I don't know quite how to tell you this, and I have no idea how it happened, but I think it had something to do with the Crimson Dawn. Apparently, we stopped fighting hand to hand, switched to swords, and tried to kill one another. We've both got several cuts, but I don't think any of them were too bad. There was also mention of glowing eyes, pulsing tattoos, and I remember some really awful dreams about demons, and swords, and lots of nasty stuff I don't even want to think about."
As Betsy spilled it all out in a rush of words, Kitty's face grew more and more pale and she turned to her friend, horrified. Dear God, this just kept getting worse. And she couldn't remember any of it. It started her wondering what else she might have done recently that she didn't remember.
"Oh, Betts. I don't think it was the Crimson Dawn." she told her friend miserably. "I think it was me."
"You? How could it have been you?" Betsy looked totally confused now, and Kitty couldn't blame her. She couldn't get much more confused herself.
Pursing her lips, Kitty took her friends hand. "Can you just tell me what you know. What have they told you about what happened to us?"
"Kitty, are you sure you feel all right. You don't look at all well." The ninja trained telekinetic studied her with soft, violet eyes shining with concern.
"No, I'm not sure, but I really need to know. Please?" Kitty begged. After studying her curiously for another moment, the other woman nodded.
As Betsy quietly filled her friend in on what she knew of their ordeal, the younger woman's head began to swim sickeningly. By the time she was finished, Kitty felt like she was ready to pass out again. Jesus Christ, they'd been in here for over a week. They'd nearly died. And, worse yet, she - or probably more accurately, the Soulsword - had somehow sucked Betsy into those horrible nightmares with her.
Dropping her head down into her hands with a groan, Kitty concentrated on fighting the blackness hovering just a the edges of her vision, willing herself not to pass out. It was the thing she'd feared most, the Soulsword using her to endanger her friends, her family, and it had done it so effortlessly that she hadn't even had the chance to fight it.
"Oh God." Her head jerked up, eyes running over her friend frantically, checking for any signs of permanent damage or disfigurement. "Are you sure you're ok, Betsy?"
"Yes." Betsy shrugged. "Except for a slight headache, I feel fine now. But I've got to tell you, Kit, you scared everyone nearly out of their skin. I'm surprised Cecelia and Henry managed to get them all out of here today. Ever since I woke up, Ororo, Logan, Kurt, Rogue, and Peter have been practically camped out at your bedside. Not that I blame them. I thought I'd killed you."
Kitty just shook her head. "Like I said, I don't think it was you. I think it was me." She took a deep breath, deciding that, for all she'd put her through, Betsy at least deserved an explanation and, God knew, Kitty needed to tell somebody what was going on before she lost her mind. Taking a deep breath, she looked her friend in the face. "Elisabeth, have you ever heard of the Soulsword?"
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The day outside was dark, despite the fact that it was barely past noon, with black, ominous clouds hanging over the mansion, indeed the entire area for a fifty mile radius. A cold, hard rain had been falling, off and on, for nearly a week, a reflection of the general mood within the house which seemed to be at the center of the phenomenon, and of one mutant weather elemental in particular.
Ever since the episode with Betsy and Kitty, Storm's emotions had been adversely affecting the weather, with no particular end in sight. Unless she consciously manipulated the clouds away, the conditions tended to reflect her feelings, which were rather bleak at the moment. Just like everyone else's.
The den, and the mood of the three men scattered within, was just as dark and foreboding, despite the soda cans, beer cans, and bowls of popcorn strewn all around.
Since none of them were in the mood to go out, and Hank and Cecelia had forcibly ejected them all from the medlab, several of the mansion's inhabitants had gathered in the den, watching a mediocre movie on cable. No one seemed to be paying much attention to it, however. Mostly, they were all just sitting there, holding popcorn and staring off into space, lost in their own thoughts.
Rogue was the last to drift in, parking herself on the sofa between Peter and Kurt, while Logan was sprawled out on the love seat, a short distance away, scowling fiercely at nothing in particular.
It was not a happy group.
How could it be, with the team falling apart piece by piece, Peter moping around, barely speaking to anyone, and haunting the hallway outside the medlab, along with Logan, whose temper was so foul of late that he had taken to growling and snarling as his main form of communication.
Kurt was just down and droopy, with none of the life and humor they were all used to from the fuzzy Elf. Logan was feeling guilty, blaming himself for not stepping in and forcing Kitty to talk to him, tell him what was going on, before something this drastic happened.
Rogue was just worried sick about Kitty and Betsy, blaming herself for suggesting the sparring match in the first place, and was picking up on everyone else's bad mood through osmosis , leaving the Southerner in an exceptionally foul, depressed mood.
Neal, Bishop, Tessa, and Ororo had postponed their plans to leave until they knew that Kitty and Betsy were definitely going to be ok, though they were obviously antsy to be out before Jean and Professor Xavier returned from where ever they'd gone off to over a month ago.
She, Betsy and Hank would be next, once the other four were gone. By the middle of next month, the only X-Men left in residence would be Cecelia, Peter, Bobby, Logan, Kurt, and Kitty. But no, if she recovered, Kitty would be leaving for Muir about the same time as she, Psylocke, and Beast departed. Rogue sent up a silent prayer that her friend would recover and be well, and herself, again.
Suddenly, it was as if the team were just breaking apart, everybody going their separate ways, and not under the most pleasant of circumstances. Perhaps they were seeing the end of the X-Men, at least in it's present incarnation.
With a defeated sigh, she leaned over slightly, laying her head against Peter's shoulder and glancing up at his face, her heart going out to him. He was hurting and worrying himself to death. It was written in his expression, in his posture, in the dark cloud that seemed to hang directly over his head. The boy never had been any good at hiding his feelings. Especially where Kitty was concerned.
She hoped they could eventually work it out. It was obvious to everyone how very much Peter cared for Kitty, and just as obvious how hard Kitty was trying to pretend that she wasn't interested, that she was over him. The Southerner knew from experience that there were just some things that you never got over.
Over on the love seat, Logan fidgeted restlessly, bored with the movie and feeling cooped up, caged, inside the walls of the mansion. He'd rather be outside, in the woods, in the rain, but he didn't want to risk something changing with Kitty while he was gone.
"Y'know," Rogue spoke up into the silence, unable to take another second of the angst filled atmosphere, or of the inane movie they were watching. "maybe we should go out and get some lunch or somethin'. Ah think the weather and bein' cooped up in here for days is startin' to get to all of us."
"I am afraid I do not feel much like going out." Peter interjected, looking down at Rogue.
"Nor do I." Kurt agreed. "For once, even I am not in the mood for lighthearted activities."
"Oh, come on, you guys." Rogue sat up straighter, her green eyes moving around the room. "We can't sit here and mope all the time. If anything happens with Kit or Betts, Hank'll call us. We at least deserve to get out of here for a few minutes. We won't be any good to 'em if we're all so upset an' edgy they can't stand to be around us."
"I am positive you are absolutely right, Elisabeth." Kurt replied. "But, somehow, I just do not have the heart for it at the moment. I cannot forget all that has happened recently. To Kitty, Betsy,....and Moira."
Beside him, Rogue turned, leveling her gaze at the German mutant. "Kurt, Kitty and Betsy are my friends, too. Ah'm just as worried about them as any of you. And Mystique was my momma, in every way that counted. Don't think Ah don't go to bed every night thinkin' about what she did to Moira."
The Southerners face hardened as she thought of the woman who'd raised her and what that woman had done, assassinating Moira, stabbing Rogue without so much as batting an eye, and using Forge's invention on Rhane, stripping her of her powers. As if killing the girls' Mama wasn't enough. With any luck the mutant shape shifter would rot in prison for all the pain she'd caused. As far as Rogue was concerned, Raven Darkholme was dead.
Kurt turned to her then, a contrite look on his face as he realized that she was right. Of all of them, save Rhane, Rogue had lost the most due to recent events. And now, she would soon be leaving behind her home, and many of those she considered her family, as well.
"Forgive me, Rogue. I was not thinking. The last thing you need right now is for me, or any of us." With a nod of his head, he indicated the rest of the group. "to sit here and feel sorry for ourselves, as if we are the only ones in the world who are hurting. This time must be nearly as difficult for you as it is for Rhane."
Rogue gave him tight smile as she shook her head. "Nah, Rhaney's got a whole lot worse time of it than me. Moira was a good woman. She never did anything in her life but help people. But Mystique's always been on the wrong side of things. Just couldn't seem to help herself. Ah always knew she'd come to a bad end. Ah just didn't know she'd try to take me an' half the people I know out with her."
Peter, sitting on her other side, took her slim, gloved hand in his, squeezing it gently. "In her way, I am sure she loves you very much. After all, she took you in, raised you, and, from all I have heard, was good to you."
"Maybe," she conceded, but her expression was rather pensive. "but that woman don't exist no more. Ah don't even recognize the monster she's become. She's crazy. And Ah don't know what's more to blame, Irene's damned diaries, or her own stubborn nature that made her keep on tryin' ta figure them out when she knew it was hopeless."
"If ya feel that way 'bout the diaries, why're ya goin' off on this quest with 'Ro's team?" Logan asked curiously, speaking for the first time since she'd entered the room. He had his own doubts about the wisdom of gathering all of those books in one place. To his way of thinking, that only made them more dangerous.
"'Cause Irene meant for me to go, and she was never anything but kind to me. Ah owe it to her to help find 'em, if we can, and try to keep 'em away from people like Mystique, who want to use 'em as an excuse to cause misery and hurt to the rest of the world."
"But who is to say, no matter who has the books, that they will not always be a problem?" For the first time in days, the the dull, disheartened expression lifted slightly from Kurt's face, replaced by interest. He'd been somewhat hurt by not being asked to go with Ororo's team and, so, had avoided any mention of it, and it's purpose, until now. "Especially if they are all found and brought together. It appears to me that, as long as they exist on this earth, they will present an almost irresistible temptation. There will always be someone who believes they can use them, that they can be the ones to finally crack the code and change the future."
Rogue gazed up at him with her sea green eyes, then let her gaze move around the room, alighting briefly on the rest of her friends and team mates. The three other people in this room, Kit and Betsy down in the medlab, and Remy in New Orleans, were probably her closest friends in the world, but she still wasn't sure she should tell them what she intended. If it got back to Storm, it could be disastrous.
But, if she couldn't trust these, of all people, then there was no one she could trust.
"Ah've thought of that, but let me tell ya...if we manage to bring all those diaries together, I don't intend that they go on existin'. 'Cause Ah don't think there's anybody on earth who can handle 'em, read 'em, and not be drove plum crazy by 'em."
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Betsy gaped at her, completely dumbfounded, and absolutely horrified. "Kitty, you can't be serious. Are you telling me those dreams, those horrible images, were real? That they happened to you?"
"No, not me, exactly. More like my counterpart from an alternate universe or dimension. Limbo is really, really hard to explain if you've never been there. But what concerns me is how you got sucked in along with me. It shouldn't have been possible."
The lavender haired ninja appeared lost in thought for a moment. Then, she turned back to Kitty. " I think I have an idea."
"Well, by all means, lets hear it. At this point, I'm open to anything." Even as she tried to maintain an appearance of outward calm, Kitty's mind was working furiously. With what she'd just learned, she couldn't risk staying here any longer. She was too much of a danger to those close to her. If the Soulsword could do it once, it could, and would, do it again.
"I never told you this," Now Betsy looked slightly embarrassed as she gave Kitty an apologetic smile. "but after you were injured in the Morelock massacre, when I was holding you together, we forged some sort of permanent, telepathic bond."
"You mean, like Jean and Scott used to have?" Kitty asked, more puzzled than concerned. She hadn't noticed any kind of bond like she'd heard the Summers describe.
"Sort of, yes, but more subtle. Most of the time, unless we were in close proximity to one another, I never noticed it. Even then, all I would get were vague impressions and scattered feelings and emotions." Betsy smiled wryly at the other woman. "You know, you've never been exactly easy to read in the first place."
"Yes, and I like it that way." Kitty made an effort to return her smile, but it wasn't very convincing. As she thought back, she decided it would have been surprising if she and Betsy hadn't formed some kind of link, considering how deep into her mind the telepath had to go in order to hold her together, and how long she'd had to do it. "Besides, it's not like you're gonna run off and sell off all my secrets to the Hellfire Club or the Marauders."
"No, probably not." she agreed with a laugh. "Anyway, after I lost my telepathy, I figured the bond was gone, too, so I never bothered to mention it." She leaned forward slightly toward Kitty. "But what if it wasn't? What if it's still there, just...dormant? Maybe between the Soulsword and the Crimson Dawn, which I still don't know very much about, we somehow got linked together again."
Kitty tilted her head thoughtfully, then nodded. "Makes sense to me. If you mix the Soulsword and the Crimson Dawn together, God alone knows what you'll get."
"Apparently, you get red eyed, glowing, ninja-bots who put one another into comas." Betsy supplied helpfully, trying to lighten the mood a little.
"That does not make me feel any better." Kitty leveled her golden brown eyes at the other woman, completely unamused. Betsy tended to not take things any more seriously than she absolutely had to, but Kitty knew just exactly how dangerous this situation was.
"Well, it shouldn't make you feel any worse. It wasn't your fault." Betsy assured her, studying the younger woman with those piercing violet eyes that seemed to see right through to your soul. "What are you going to do about the Soulsword, now? I thought Kurt's old girlfriend, Amanda, had the bloody thing and was watching over Limbo with it."
"There's nothing I can do. Not really." Kitty told her dejectedly. "I don't dare call it to me and accept it willingly. You've heard what it did to Illyana, what it's done to me the couple of times I've actually tried to wield it. It's bad news."
"But it seems as though it's affecting you, whether you accept it or not." Betsy told her gently. "We've all certainly noticed a change in your behavior lately."
"I know." Kitty dropped her head, sighing heavily. "I'm afraid, eventually, it'll take me, whether I want it to or not. That's a big part of why I'm leaving to go stay with Rhane on Muir. To get away from here, away from Peter."
"Why?" Psylocke looked confused. "I know you and Peter haven't exactly been the best of friends in a while, but I didn't think things were that bad between the two of you."
"Peter is Illyana's brother, her closest living blood relative. The sword came to me through Illyana, though I'm not exactly sure why. I have an idea, though, that it has something to do with Cat. It doesn't want just me. The sword wants Peter, too. I can't, I won't put him in that kind of danger." Kitty stated firmly. It might hurt him, hurt them both, in the short run, but in the long run, it would save his soul.
"So, where does Amanda fit into all of this?" asked Becky again, still confused, but Kitty could only shrug.
"Honestly, I really don't know. She can wield the sword, apparently without harm. At least, so far as I know. But, it's like it doesn't want her. And, " she added as another though occurred to her. "I would have expected to hear from her by now if she were having trouble with it, but so far, not a peep. That's really strange, now that I think about it. But I don't have any way to contact her."
The two women fell into silence then, both trying to come to grips with the things they'd just learned. Finally, it was Betsy who broke the silence.
"So, where do you go from here?"
A cloud seemed to pass over Kitty's face as she looked up, her eyes shining with unshed tears.
"Away, Betsy. Just...away."
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Rogue scanned the other faces in the room, looking for their reactions, but no one seemed particularly surprised or upset by what she'd said. In fact, she saw more than one head nod in agreement. One of them was Kurt's.
"I must admit, I have had my own doubts. Especially since we acquired those five volumes of the Diaries from Mystique. I do not trust Charles to resist the temptation of the Books of Truth, and I am not sure I trust anyone else, for that matter, with that kind of tainted, skewed, knowledge. We," With a sweep of his blue furred arms, Nightcrawler included not only the people in the room with him, but all the X-Men in general. "all of us, have a great deal of power. Our blessing, and our curse. How can any of us say, if we had the ability to know the future that awaited us, that we would not try to change it?"
"Yeah," Rogue agreed. "I think that's one reason Irene let the set be broken up. Even she didn't put much faith in 'em, far as bein' a guide. But it's too temptin' to use 'em, to try an' change things."
"And we have seen what that can lead to."
As everyone seemed to ponder his statement, thoughts undoubtedly turning to Mystique, Moria, and Rhane, Peter's gaze wandered around the dim room. So few of them left now, and more yet to leave. He tried to imagine what the mansion would be like with so many of his friends gone.
"So many are leaving, or have already gone. In a few days, there will only be a handful of us left here. I fear it will be very lonely and very quiet."
Absently, Rogue shifted her hand in his, lacing their fingers together. He had such big hands, such fearsome raw power at his command, but he was one of the gentlest, most sensitive, people she knew.
"Why don't you get outta here too, Petey?" she suggested gently. "Honestly, Ah don't understand why you keep doin' this. Ah've never thought you were suited to the constant fightin'. You should be somewhere paintin', raisin' a family, makin' a life for yourself."
"She has a point, Peter." Kurt put in. "Of all of us, you are the one who would most fit in and enjoy life outside the X-Men. You never really wanted to do this in the first place. You only did it because it was asked of you, and you felt it was the right thing at the time."
But Peter only dropped his eyes, looking about as dejected as any of them had seen him since Illyana's death.
"Where would I go? And who would there be for me to make a life with?" He shook his head sadly. "No. Better that I stay here, where I at least have a chance to do something worthwhile. With all the new students coming, they are going to need all the teachers they can get. Especially with so many of the team going their separate ways."
Rogue's eyebrows shot up and she threw him an extremely skeptical look. "Oh, please! Ah know ya love kids, but you don't seriously expect me to believe you want to stay here and teach the mutant youth of America? Especially under Emma Frost?"
Almost as an automatic response to the mere mention of the former White Queen, everyone in the room cringed, winced, and shuddered at the same time. Professor Xavier might think she had changed, but most of them still didn't trust her in the least.
Against his will, Peter had to grin, looking a little sheepish as he realized how absurd it actually sounded. "Perhaps you are right."
"Of course Ah am." Rogue put in smugly, and his grin widened. Then, he paused, taking a deep breath and exhaling heavily.
"I have no desire at all to work under, or with, Emma. Whatever the Professor may believe, I do not trust her."
"Amen to that."
"Me neither."
"Nein. Nor do I. I believe Herr Professor may be inviting the wolf among the sheep."
"And I do not know if I have the heart or the stomach to continue fighting as I have been for so many years." Peter continued. "I have grown weary of a struggle that never seems to make a difference, no matter what we do, no matter what we sacrifice. I would like a somewhat normal life, if such a thing is possible for the likes of us. There must be something more than this."
His companions nodded knowingly. Peter wasn't the first one to have expressed that sentiment lately. And the good Lord above knew the big Russian, in particular, had paid a high price for his dedication to The Dream.
Many of them seemed tired, worn out from the constant struggle and inevitable disappointments, and the few gathered here wondered how long it would be before the X-Men were forced to take a good, long, hard look at what they were doing and ask themselves if it had really made any difference at all.
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After checking over every inch of her body, inside and out, as thoroughly as the X-Men's considerable medical technology would allow, which was very, very thoroughly, Henry McCoy and Cecelia Reyes pronounced that Kitty seemed to be suffering no lasting effects from her recent near death experience.
They unhooked her from all but one or two monitors and the IV drip, making her feel much less like some weird science experiment and a little more human. She'd been badgering them ceaselessly let her out of here and back to her own room, as had Betsy, but they'd both remained immovable. It seemed they would be stuck here at least until tomorrow.
Kitty told herself she could tough it out. It was only one more night, but she was anxious to get out of here, get back to her room and start trying to make some sense out of what had happened to her, the things she'd seen. There had to be some meaning there, something that she was missing, that would give her a clue as to what to do.
What she had learned upon waking up had left her no choice. She had to get out of here and away from those close to her until she could get this sorted out. And that meant she wouldn't be going to Muir, either. Kitty wouldn't risk Rhane anymore than she would her friends here.
She wasn't sure exactly where she would go, but she would think of something.
But it hurt, God, how it hurt. The X-Men were her family, the only real family she had who cared whether she lived or died. What kind of life would she have without them? Without Logan, and Kurt, and Rogue, and Betsy...and Peter.
No matter how hard she tried, how many times she sought to convince herself that it was over between them, had been over for a long, long time, it seemed her thoughts always turned back to him in the end.
Lying in the hospital bed, unmoving, her eyes closed tightly as she pretended to sleep, Kitty thought of her dreams, what she'd seen as she lay unconscious, the love she'd felt between that other Peter and Cat.
If they had lived, had gotten out of Limbo as her own team had, would they have managed to make it work? Could they have avoided the pitfall's that she and her Peter had fallen prey to? She liked to believe that they would have, that, somehow, those two might have made it to happily ever after.
After all, the precedent seemed to be for them to be together. In the timeline Rachel Summers was from, where Sentinels had decimated the mutant population, she and Peter had been married. They had never gone to Limbo, he had never fallen in love with someone else, she had never gone to Japan and become involved with Ogun and everything that happened there.
And then, there was the timeline that Nate Grey came from, where Apocalypse ruled much of the world. There, again, she and Peter were married, teaching the next generation of mutants under Magneto.
Or yet another alternate timeline that Brian Braddock had seen during the period he was lost in the time stream. In that reality, she and Peter had left Excalibur to return to the US and marry.
The list went on and on, yet here, in her reality, they seemed doomed from the start to make every mistake possible with one another, to do everything they could to insure that they wouldn't be together. Yet, neither of them seemed able to be content with anyone else.
Kitty knew now, as she had really always known and never before admitted, that she never would be. At some point along the way, she had accepted that the only man she really wanted was the one she could never have.
Perhaps it was her destiny to be taken by the Soulsword, to become the mistress of Limbo, ruling there for all time. Alone. Perhaps that was why nothing else in her life seemed to work.
Maybe she should just give in to the inevitable.
Her musings were interrupted as Cecelia brought her and Betsy their dinner tray. Setting Kitty's on the tray table by her bed, the X-Men's newest physician looked the sullen, morose young woman over seriously.
"Kitty, I won't pretend to know exactly what's going on with you, other than the obvious, but you can't avoid your friends forever. They were worried sick about you."
Kitty picked up her fork, toying with her food listlessly, refusing to meet Cecelia's eyes. "I just don't want to see anybody right now."
The dark skinned doctor sighed heavily, shaking her head in irritation, causing her corn-rowed hair to swing out around her shoulders.
"Yes. I know, but you might feel better for a little company." She leaned forward, bracing her hands on the edge of the mattress. "They just want to see you. I know you and Elisabeth have both been through a really rough time. Hell, we still don't understand for sure what happened, but you'd really make your friends feel better if you'd see them, even if it's only for a minute. They're worrying themselves to death about you, and not just because of what happened with all this," Her arms swept wide to include the entire medlab, as well as her current situation. "They've been worried about you for weeks now."
Tired, scared, and absolutely heartsick, Kitty's temper ignited in a flash. How dare this woman, who knew basically nothing about her, or her life, or her hurt, presume to tell her what she needed to do, how she should act?
Kitty turned to her then, her eyes blazing with fury and narrowed dangerously, face hard as stone. Anyone who'd ever seen Wolverine in a really bad mood would have recognized the look. "You're right. You don't know what's going on with me. You don't know anything about me, what I've been through, or what I want. So just back off." She hissed the words out as her hand shot out to shove at Cecelia, throwing the doctor back, away from her, with surprising strength, and causing her to stumble as she tried to regain her balance.
Dr. Reyes straightened up, taking another step back from her patient, trying not to show her surprise at the girls sudden, violent reaction. In the next bed over, Betsy leapt up, her mouth open in shock at the force of Kitty's reaction, ready to intervene.
But Cecelia, after a moment to recover, waved her back to bed.
Yes, she had pushed her a little, but gently, hoping to cajole the young woman out from behind the wall she'd been building around herself, hoping to get her talking about what was bothering her. She'd fully expected her to be ignored, but she hadn't expected the cold, bright fury she felt rolling off Kitty in waves. Whatever was wrong, the girl was a walking time bomb if she didn't get it sorted out. And soon.
"Fine. I'll back off. But, before I do, you need to know one more thing. Logan and Peter, Ororo, and Kurt, have been waiting either beside your bed or right outside this room, day and night, for well over a week, worrying themselves to death about you. They thought you were going to die. And with damn good reason."
Her own temper over riding her caution, Cecelia leaned in close to Kitty again, noticing that Betsy was back in bed, but keeping a close eye on them, her body tensed for action. "Girl, I saw the Wolverine shed tears over you." As Kitty simply continued to glare at her, Cecelia threw up her hands in frustration. "Nobody deserves to be treated like you're treating them now. Especially people that love you."
Without waiting for Kitty to reply, Cecelia whirled around and strode off, leaving Kitty with her guilt, sorrow and self-loathing. And her bright, raging inferno of anger at whatever destiny had decided that she would never be allowed even a moments peace and happiness in this life.
This is just too hard. I can't do it anymore. I have to get out of here.
Pushing her uneaten dinner away, and ignoring Betsy's attempts to get her attention, she curled up on her side, laying her head on the pillow as she closed her eyes tightly, willing herself to sleep. To escape.
You cannot escape Destiny.
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The commotion outside the medlab jerked her from that in between place, that realm of drifting between sleep and waking, where you were still aware of your surroundings, of what was going on, but you really didn't care.
It was all fuzzy and peaceful and contented. At least, until there was what appeared to be a costumed mob riot going on about twenty feet from your bed.
Kitty and Betsy both sat up quickly, exchanging uneasy looks as they wondered what the hell was happening.
Through the partially open door, they could see Hank, Logan, Ororo, Kurt, and Cecelia, and Kitty thought she also heard Neal and Peter out there as well. It appeared as if everyone had just come out of the Danger Room in the middle of a workout.
With a sigh, Kitty turned over, calling out to Dr. McCoy, who was making his best effort which - for the Beast - was considerable, to quiet everybody down before they woke up his two patients.
"Too late Hank. We're up."
On hearing Kitty's voice, everything came to an abrupt and total stop, Hank looking from Kitty and Betsy to the group gathered outside and back again before reluctantly waving Logan and Neal inside.
"Forgive us, Elisabeth, Katherine." Hank apologized as he moved out into the hall with everyone else, pulling the partially door closed as he went. He was smiling at them sheepishly, absently pushing his glasses back up on the bridge of his nose, but there was a strange look in his eyes that Kitty couldn't quite decipher. "It has been a rather...interesting...morning."
The two women were left to wonder what the good doctor had meant by that comment as Logan swept around the huge, blue furred man as if he weren't there, Neal directly on his heels, striding toward them purposefully, his face unreadable.
Neal stopped by Kitty's bed for a moment to see how she was feeling and make a little idle chit chat as Logan did the same with Betsy. Then, the two men switched places and Kitty was left to stare up at a fiercely scowling Wolverine.
She winced inwardly and braced herself for a good tongue lashing for not letting him in to see her before now.
Not that she'd blame him. She knew she deserved it.
Despite her earlier determination to distance herself from her friends until she could leave, Kitty found her heart lightening, extremely glad to see him regardless of the fact that he was about to yell at her.
To her surprise, he reached down to her, gathering her up and wrapping her in a tight hug.
After the initial shock wore off, Kitty returned his embrace, burying her face in his yellow and black spandex covered shoulder, comforted by the feel of the familiar material against her cheek, the familiar smell and feel of the man himself.
"How are ya, Kit?" he asked gruffly, pulling back to look her over with his dark, piercing eyes, automatically reaching out with his other senses as well, to assure himself that everything with her was as it should be.
"I've been better." she replied tiredly, swiping at the tears that were spilling down her face. Until that moment, Kitty hadn't even been aware she was crying. "Obviously. But I'll live. At least, so they tell me."
One big, powerful hand came up, swiping the tears from her cheek with a calloused thumb, as he gently tilted her chin up with the other.
"I was worried about ya, Pun'kin'. We almost lost ya." he told her sincerely, his voice a little more gruff than usual, and Kitty thought about what Cecelia had told her, how he'd cried for her, and she felt supremely ashamed of herself for putting him off, for not agreeing to see him immediately.
"I'm sorry, Logan. I didn't mean to worry you, or anyone else. I just...well, I just haven't felt much like company." Kitty gave him a weak, apologetic smile.
Right now, she'd like nothing better than to just spill her guts to him, tell him everything, but she couldn't. She'd sworn Betsy to silence, albeit under protest, and couldn't talk to anyone else, couldn't risk bringing another person into this mess until she had a chance to learn more. Or maybe she'd never be able to, depending on how things ended up.
She'd seen what happened to that first team of X-Men who entered Limbo. She'd actually lived through it, thanks to her dreams. And she knew she'd rather die herself than watch that happen to her friends again. Her soul wouldn't be such a high price to pay if it meant saving them.
"Yeah, I know, but I had to see fer myself that ya were ok." Almost absently, he reached out, brushing a stray lock of her long, chestnut hair away from her face. "Sorry we woke ya up."
"It's ok. I wasn't really asleep anyway. And even when I am, it doesn't do me much good." At his curious look, she shrugged helplessly. "Nightmares." she said by way of explanation.
Releasing her, Logan looked down at her for a moment before speaking again. "Ya ready ta get back ta yer own room? McCoy says me and Neal can spring the two o' you, if ya want. Provided ya take it easy."
"I will do anything to get out of here and back to my own room." she stated vehemently, throwing back the covers and swinging her legs over the side of the bed before anyone could change their mind. Glancing in Betsy's direction, Kitty saw her doing the same thing and the two women exchanged a smile of relief, both more than happy to be set free at last.
Logan surprised her yet again as she started to stand up. Instead of letting her walk out on her own two feet, he easily scooped her up and headed for the door as she draped her arms loosely around his neck.
As they entered the hall and turned toward the elevator, Kitty could hear the faint echo of voices from farther down the hall, from the direction of the medlab's conference rooms. Thinking of the crowd and commotion outside the medlab just a few minutes ago, Kitty looked up at Logan curiously.
"What, exactly, is going on, Logan? What's with all the commotion this morning?"
"We'll talk about it when we get ya back ta yer room." He pinned her with his dark, piercing eyes, and Kitty felt an involuntary shudder run through her. "I think we've got a lot of things ta discuss."
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"Oh, my God..." Kitty gasped softly, stunned, one hand covering her face as she closed her eyes, trying to process what Logan had just told her.
Once they'd gotten to her room, he'd left her to clean up and change clothes as he went to do the same.
Though she found herself to be weaker than she would have liked to admit, Kitty was determined to take a shower before she changed and went back to bed. She felt grimy and icky from being stuck in the medlab so long. And she knew it was all in her mind, but she swore she smelled like alcohol and disinfectant.
When she was done, she found Logan already back in her room, dressed in his customary flannel shirt and jeans. He waited patiently while she'd finished dressing in a light sweat suit, then tucked her directly into bed like she was ten years old.
After he'd taken up his post in a chair beside her bed, watching her like a hawk, he'd dropped the bomb on her that had been dropped on everyone else early this morning.
"It's wonderful.." she said when she could speak again. "..and horrible, all at the same time." Kitty took a deep breath, exhaling slowly to try and clear her head. The whole thing was like some bad fairy tale. Like the story of the monkey's paw, where you make a wish and it gets granted, only in the most twisted, distorted way possible. "So, we have a cure for Legacy, only we can't use it because somebody has to die for it to work? Un-fucking-believable!"
If she thought Logan would let her out of bed, she'd be pacing the room right about now. How much more would they all have to endure? Wasn't it enough that they'd already lost so many to this damned virus Stryfe had loosed on the world. Did they now have to sacrifice another one of their number to stop it?
And, she knew, without even really giving it any thought, that it would be one of the X-Men to lay down their life if another way couldn't be found. It always was. And this time bomb had to be stopped, before it infected the entire world. If left to it's own devices, it would eventually scour the earth. No one would be safe, mutant or otherwise.
She'd been to Genosha, recently, had seen the Legacy camps there. It was a real life version of Dante's Inferno, a living hell on earth filled with the torments of the damned and dying. No human being, be they mutant or non-mutant, deserved to spend their last days in such a place.
Genosha, an entire nation, was dying and the only way to stop the death of millions might be the death of one. But that one would be, in all likelihood, someone she knew, someone she loved, someone who was part of her family.
As she pondered this, her mind suddenly cleared and a calm settled over her. Raising her head, she met Logan's eyes, her gaze steady and level as they stared at eachother in silence.
They'd been friends, family, since she was thirteen years old, saved one another's lives more times over than either of them could possibly remember. The two of them didn't need telepathy to read one another's minds and she saw his eyes widen as he realized what she was thinking.
"NO!" he growled, jumping from his chair to lean over her where she sat up in her bed, getting right in her face. "I've already had this discussion with half the flamin' people in this house. I'm not havin' it with you, too, so just let it go. We are not gonna talk about this. What'cher thinkin' is crazy."
Kitty didn't even flinch, even though she was almost nose to nose with a man that terrified most people just by virtue of his very presence. In many ways, though on her it wasn't as obvious, she was just as fierce, just as hard, just as deadly, as the Wolverine ever was. He'd recognized that right off, had taught her to fight, had taught her to harness that wild rage and make it work for her. She wasn't intimidated by him in the least.
"You're right. We're not gonna discuss this. There's nothing to discuss. My mind is made up. If somebody has to make the sacrifice, if Hank and Cecelia can't come up with any other way, I'll do it. Trust me, at this point, it'll be a blessing."
She said it all so calmly, so cooly, that it sent a chill down Logan's spine. The girl could be as hard and cold as ice when she wanted to, could shut her feelings and emotions down completely if she set her mind to it. But he wasn't going to let her do that, not now, not to him.
"An' where does that leave th' rest of us, Kit?" He asked as calmly as he could manage. "What about me, and 'Ro and the rest of yer friends, th' people that love you? Are things so bad that ya don't care about anybody else any more?"
Logan watched her reaction with some satisfaction, as the cold, emotionless mask slipped from her face and it turned beet red with anger. Kitty sputtered furiously at him for a minute before she could actually manage to form any words.
"What the hell do you think I've been doing for the last ten years, Logan?" She crossed her arms almost defensively across her chest as hot tears began to spill from her eyes. "I sure as hell haven't been living for myself. Do you think I don't know what this cure means? I can not stand by this time while yet another friend goes quietly into that good night. I can't take it any more. One more, that's all it'll take. Just losing one more friend, one more piece of my heart and soul and it won't matter whether I'm dead or alive. I'd be better off dead."
She turned away from him then, struggling to hold back her tears and he sat down on the edge of her bed, putting his arm around her, one rough hand stroking her long hair. They were talking about Legacy, but it was more than that. He knew there was more to this whole thing, something she wasn't telling him, that had her so strung out, that had her emotions running from one extreme to another in the blink of an eye.
"Don't ya think it's time ta tell me what's goin' on, Kit. Ya damn near died, and nobody can seem to figure out exactly why. Not even our resident genius doctor." When Kitty opened her mouth to speak, he cut her off. "Now, don't get me wrong. I know somethin' strange is happenin', and I have my suspicions about what it is, but I'd like ta hear it from you."
"I'm sorry, Wolvie, but this isn't something you can help me with." She shook her head sadly. "I wish you could, but it's something I've got to deal with on my own."
But Logan shook his head firmly. "Uh-uh. Not this time. The thing is, it ain't just affectin' you. It's already affected Betsy, and Peter, and even Kurt..."
Her surprise and confusion, when he mentioned Wagner's name, were evident as her head whirled around, her eyes wide. "Kurt? Hank didn't say anything about Kurt being involved in any of this. What happened to Kurt?" She sounded almost panicked and he could smell the fear coming off her. What the hell had the girl got herself into that had her this scared, and apparently almost suicidal?
"Hank don't know nothin' about it. It was somethin' that happened a day or two before all this other, I just never got a chance ta talk to ya about it."
"Logan, for God's sake, would you tell me what happened? I don't have any idea what you're talking about."
Not answering for a moment, Logan looked her over carefully. His eyes and, more importantly, his senses told him she was telling the truth. She apparently had no memory of the incident with Kurt. So that begged the question, who, or what, had put the moves on the Elf?
"Yer tellin' me ya don't remember comin' onta the elf, that day ya left the Danger Room, when ya were so pissed off?"
Kitty's eyes narrowed and she practically gaped at him.
"What?! Logan, please define 'coming on to', because you can't possibly mean what I think you mean."
"I mean," he stated baldly. "that ya dropped yer clothes, grabbed his crotch, and put th' moves on him. Nearly scared the fuzz ball ta death."
"Oh..my..God." Her hands flew to her mouth as all the blood drained out of her face, leaving her even more pale than she had been. She began shaking her head violently in denial. "No. I don't remember any of it." Kitty closed her eyes tightly, trying to tamp down the rising nausea and panic. "Oh, God. Logan, are you sure?"
"Well, I wasn't there, but yeah. I doubt 'Crawler'd make somethin' like that up."
"No. No, of course he wouldn't." she replied, almost absently, her eyes glazing over in shock.
To Logan, it was as if all the strength suddenly drained out of her. She bent forward, dropping her head into her hands. When she spoke again, her voice was thick with tears. "God, what is happening to me. How could I do something like that to Kurt? How could I not remember it?"
She almost whispered the words, as if she'd forgotten he was there and was talking to herself. He could tell she was exhausted and he wondered about that, too, and the nightmares she'd mentioned, but for right now, they needed to deal with the problem at hand.
Sliding over so they were hip to hip, the gruff Canadian pulled her roughly to him. Kitty clung to him like a burr, as if her were her lifeline.
"Talk ta me, Kit. Tell me what's happenin'. Cause, I gotta tell ya, what I'm thinking is scarin' th' hell outta me."
She buried her face in his soft flannel shirt, like she used to do when she was much younger and in need of reassurance. The feel of the warm, rough material against her face, the way he always seemed to smell of the woods and earth, of wild things, was a comfort to her. He had been much more of a father to her than her own had ever been, and she wanted nothing else right now other than to hand it all over to him and let him fix it for her, but she knew he couldn't. Not this time.
"I wish I could. I wish it were that easy, Logan. I wish that would help. But it won't. And I won't drag you, or anybody else, into my problems any more than I already have. Not when I know it wouldn't do any good. I won't lose anybody else. I couldn't stand it."
"How do ya know it won't help unless ya try? Do ya have ta do everything the hard way, Kit?" He gave her a small smile, but she couldn't return it. Not with her whole world crumbling around her.
Instead, her wide eyes shining with tears, she gazed up at him fondly as she laid her palm against his rough, stubbly cheek.
"This from the man whose stubborn refusal to be anything but a loner is legendary among the X-Men?" She shook her head sadly. "No, Wolvie. This is something I have to do alone. It's time to honor an old debt. You, of all people, should understand that."
Logan took her face in his rough, calloused hands, his dark eyes boring into hers.
"There's just one thing I gotta ask ya. It's been weighin' on my mind ever since this happened." He paused and Kitty could see the pain, and even a little fear, burning behind his nearly black eyes. "I keep thinkin' about Japan...."
He didn't get a chance to finish, as Kitty intercepted his thoughts. Her laugh, when it came, was hard, bitter, and humorless.
"No, Logan. It doesn't have anything to do with Japan. I wish it were as easy as Ogun." she said, with a shake of her head. "I know how to fight him. But it's not. As far as I know, he's gone for good, though what he did to me may have had some bearing on this, or vice versa. I don't know, and probably never will. This...this is a matter of honor, much like your pledge to Mariko, or your marriage to Viper. It's something I have to face myself." She held his gaze steadily with her own, willing him understand. "Sometimes, to keep our word, to pay our debts, we have to do things we'd rather not. You taught me that."
The feral mutant studied her hard for a long while before he finally dropped his hands and nodded. She'd trumped him with the one thing he couldn't argue with, and she knew it. That didn't mean he had to like it.
"All right, I can understand that....Fer now," he added, giving her a look that plainly said: 'don't argue with me, it's as far as I'm willing to go, and farther than I like'. "But, promise me one thing, before you do anything, especially where this Legacy thing is concerned, you'll talk to me first." He waited for her nod of consent before continuing. "And know this, honor or no honor, debt or no debt, if things get worse, and I think I can stop it, I will."
Kitty nodded solemnly, soulful, brown eyes brimming with tears. Did he have any idea, she wondered, just how much he meant to her?
"That's what I'm counting on, Logan. Now, I need you to promise me something." As he had before, she waited for his reluctant nod before speaking again. "If things get to the point where I become...dangerous...and I'm positive you'll be the first to know if it happens...you won't let me hurt anyone. You'll stop me. Any way you have to."
Though it tore his heart out, Logan nodded again. He might not know what was going on with her, but he knew about honor and obligation. It was the code he'd lived his life by. And, he'd taught Kitty all he knew about it as well, just as he'd taught her to fight, to be a warrior. Though, at times like this, he sometimes wished she hadn't learned quite so well.
But as she honored her obligations, so he would honor his. No matter how much he might wish otherwise.
"It might kill me, Darlin'. But I promise."
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That night, Kitty again dreamed of Illyana.
She was, again, somewhere horrible. But this time, it wasn't Limbo. Not exactly.
Looking around her, at the transformed, twisted buildings, the twisted, malformed people, Kitty remembered all too well exactly where she was.
Times Square. The middle of the Inferno.
Around her, demons were, literally, raining down from the sky, from the open stepping disk overhead that Illyana had been unable to close. The disk that N'astirh had tricked her into opening. Limbo and Earth were merging and the results of that merging were almost too horrible to imagine.
People, inanimate objects, buildings, cars, everything, were being twisted by the dark magic at work here. Humans were turning into demons. Statues, cars, subway trains, were all being brought to dark, malevolent life, trying to destroy those few people who seemed resistant to the corruption pouring out from Limbo. All around her, the world was going mad.
In the distance, the Empire State Building stood, transformed into a wall of corruption and evil, of total, utter demonic insanity.
It was the center of this abomination. Somewhere, near the top, where the spire reached into the corrupted sky, Madelyn Pryor prepared to sacrifice her baby, her little, innocent Nathan Christopher, to consecrate a spell that would join the two dimensions permanently.
The X-Men would stop her, and N'astirh, and S'ym, in the end. Kitty knew this for a fact. But she hadn't been brought here to witness that event. What she was meant to see struck far closer to her heart.
The battle for baby Nate had been the last of Inferno. This was what had come before.
It had been Illyana who, unknowingly, had opened the portal between dimensions, and it was Illyana, transformed fully into the demon-like Darkchylde, her golden, blonde beauty replaced by horns, scales and cloven hooves, who had ultimately closed that portal.
The transformation, the pain and horror, and self loathing of what she had become, had nearly driven the young Russian woman mad, but, in the end, she did not fall, she did not fail.
Glowing like the angel of light Kitty had always known she was, Illyana Nikolevona Rasputin opened a stepping disk wide and became a cleansing, white pillar of fire, so bright and beautiful that Kitty could hardly bear to look directly at her.
Inside that light, Kitty could just barely make out the form of her friend as she hurled the Soulsword into the heart of darkness, sacrificing herself, her life and essence, to close the the link between the two dimensions, sucking the demons back to Limbo from whence they came.
In the end, all that had been left was her charred, crushed armor, which Rhane cradled in her arms as she wept.
Peter came then, and Rhane tried to explain to him what had happened to his sister, what she had become, in the end, in order to prevent the demons from overtaking the world.
Kitty wept with Peter as he mourned his Little Snowflake, but a noise from inside the armor drew everyone's attention.
Taking it from Rhane, Peter ripped it open, revealing the tiny, blonde child inside who leapt into her brothers arms.
Of course, Kitty had heard the story, in great detail, from nearly everyone present that day. But she, herself, had not witnessed it. She had been elsewhere at the time, had known something had happened to Illyana when the Soulsword and armor had manifested to her suddenly, but hadn't know what until later.
Now, however, she was witnessing it. She knew what she was seeing was real, that this was how it had actually happened. And Kitty immediately noticed something that no one else had ever mentioned, but that caught her attention at once, almost stopping her heart in it's tracks.
It had been Kitty who was supposed to be watching Illyana the day she wandered away, the day she fell into the stepping disk into Limbo. That day was etched onto Kitty's mind for all time, in minute detail.
She clearly remembered what the little girl had been wearing that day, a light green long sleeved shirt with darker green pants, her hair had been shoulder length and curly, and she'd been clutching that ratty, old, stuffed bear she'd been so attached to.
This child, the one they pulled from Illyana's armor, had Illyana's face, spoke with Ilyana's voice, looked out at the world with Illyana's eyes, but her hair was waist length and straight, and she was wearing a long pink nightgown and little pink bedroom slippers, as if she'd been snatched into Limbo from her bed.
Before Kitty could give it more thought, the scene before her began to fade away, and again, she heard Rhane's voice, faint, far away. And, again, overlaying it, the voice of the sword.
"She wasn't the Darkchylde at the end, she was an Angel...a being of light...burning so bright we could hardly stand to look at her. She sacrificed herself...and saved the whole world."
True innocence of spirit cannot be tainted by evil.
Again, she saw the objects, the glowing silver sword, the image of a bird made of flames, and the leather bound book with it's title in Latin. But, this time, there was a fourth object, and it was one Kitty immediately recognized. Beside the other three was the glowing golden image of the Bloodstone Amulet. And again there were the same words.
There is Justice. There is Power. There is Knowledge. And the Keeper holds the Key.
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Many, many thanks to my reviewers:
Caliente: You are just a peach! Hope this chapter answered some of your questions about Kitty's connection to Betsy. And I still haven't forgotten about Amanda, but we probably won't see her till after chapter 9. I've gotta get Kitty out of Westchester and to somebody who can help her figure out what's going on. I do appreciate your patience and, I promise, all will be made clear in time. But I will give you a hint: Yes, Destiny's journals will end up figuring into all this.
Evanescence kicks ass: Welcome aboard and thanks for your review! Glad you're enjoying the story. Actually, it's meant to be a tad confusing right now. Things will begin to clear up some after the next two chapters. I hope. There will definitely be some Kitty/Peter action. You'll get a taste in chapter 9. BTW, love your name and yes, I think they do too.
A/N: This chapter nearly drove me insane, and I'm still not sure I'm all that pleased with it, but I finally got it to, mostly, do what I wanted. Chapter 9 seems to be going better so far. So, join us next time as we learn the fate of the Legacy cure, many mutants depart from Westchester, and Kitty and Peter end up in a rather emotional confrontation about their feelings. Please review. All reviews are welcome. I know you're out there. I can hear you breathing.
Ack! Almost forgot. Rhane's dialogue from Inferno comes from New Mutants #73.