Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own any X-Men. Phooey. No money, either.
A/N: This chapter is shorter than normal. Actually this is only about two thirds of the chapter I had planned, but I'm at a place where things begin to get complicated and I'm sorta stuck trying to work out all the details. So, what was supposed to be one chapter will now be two. Let me apologize in advance for how this one stop, but it was the best I could do. More should be coming soon.
Chapter 17 – Homecomings
Suddenly, she was standing in her hotel room, though she wasn't quite sure exactly how she'd gotten there.
One moment, she'd been high in the air, infused with a brilliant, white light, surrounded by Sentinels. Watching, waiting, as they drew closer and closer.
In the next moment, the power, the light, hadn't so much pulsed as flowed from her, in a blinding, almost gentle wave. The Sentinels had turned to dust less than a second later. And she'd left, coming straight here.
The thing was, she wasn't quite certain just how that particular transport had occurred.
Oh, she remembered everything well enough, down to the most minute detail. If she closed her eyes and thought about it, it would come to her as clearly as if she were still there. So, it wasn't a problem of not being able to remember.
It was a problem of having no words, in any language she knew, that would describe how she'd gotten from the sky over Magda Square to her hotel room in less than the blink of an eye. The closest she could come was to say that she had somehow gone.....between. Almost like stepping through a curtain.
Things, it seemed, had changed for her. In more ways than one.
Kitty knew, after what she'd just been through, after what had just happened, she should be awed, she should be terrified, she should be grief stricken. She should probably be at least a little hysterical. But she was none of those things.
There was nothing left of anything she'd felt before, when she'd been fighting the Sentinels, when she'd seen Peter jump out of the Midnight Runner, or when she'd seen her father killed. She could think about any of it, as much as she wanted, without associating any feelings at all with the images. Almost as if those events had happened to someone else.
Though she could remember the feelings, remember having them at the time, Kitty couldn't actually feel them anymore. She was an emotional black hole, feeling nothing at all. Hadn't since just after she'd called the sword.
She wondered if she ever would again.
Maybe that's what happened when you lost your soul. If so, it might not be such a bad thing. She was rather certain that any feelings she might otherwise have right now wouldn't be particularly pleasant. Just as well if she didn't have to experience them.
But where, exactly, did that leave her, now?
With a sigh, Kitty surveyed the room, noting the shattered windows, the glass strewn about on nearly every surface. There were chunks of plaster missing from the ceiling, lying in white, chalky pieces over the bed, the dresser, the little table, the floor. And a few new cracks on a couple of the walls.
All in all, considering that the entire island had been on the verge of annihilation mere moments ago, things here didn't look too bad. In fact, other than the broken windows, the room wasn't in much worse shape than when she'd left it. She doubted the management would even bother to do any repairs, other than replace the glass.
It wasn't exactly a room she was going to miss. Not in the least.
With swift efficiency, Kitty moved around the small space, gathering up her things, shaking off the plaster dust and stray glass shards as she went. Not bothering with neatness or order, she just snatched up whatever was handy, her laptop, the diaries, her few clothes that she'd brought with her, what other odd and end personal effects were scattered around - including her passports and credit cards - stuffing everything haphazardly into her duffle bags.
It only took her a very few minutes to pack it all up and be ready to leave, though she wasn't exactly sure where she was going. But anywhere should be better than here.
She'd been almost surprised when she hadn't materialized in Limbo. It had been what she was expecting. After all, wasn't she it's mistress now? Wasn't it her duty to defend the mystical dimension against all comers?
Perhaps the Soulsword had other plans for her, though she couldn't imagine what they might be. At the moment, she didn't really care. She'd just lost everything she'd ever cared about in her life and she couldn't muster even the slightest emotion about that fact, good or bad. What did it really matter what happened to her now?
Straightening up, the young woman known as Shadowcat dropped the last of her toiletry articles into her bag and stared at her own reflection in the cracked dresser mirror, looking back at herself critically.
She didn't see anything to get excited about. Just an ordinary woman with long, wavy hair. A slim, slightly heart-shaped, face with a chin that she'd always thought to be just a little too pointed. Eyes that were just a little too wide, and, at the moment, glowing that bright, flame red. Even with that they were still flat, dead, like empty holes. And her body that was so slender it bordered on skinny, with none of the ample curves that every one of the other X-women seemed to possess. Definitely nothing special.
So, why did all these things keep happening to her?
Things like the Soulsword.....and the Bloodstone Amulet.
It hung from her neck on it's thick, gold chain, resting just above the tops of her breasts, glowing dully in the harsh, overhead light.
It was actually a very lovely piece, ancient, well crafted, intricate in it's detail, with the balancing scales standing out in relief on the background of radiating lines. Such a harmless looking thing. Yet, twice today, within the span of only a couple of hours, she'd been told by two different people that the amulet was dangerous, evil.
Kitty wondered if they truly had any idea of the real definition of the word.
Of course, she knew it was dangerous. Had always known it. Illyana had told her exactly what would happen if the other two Bloodstones were ever set into place. Hell would come to earth and the Inferno would seem as nothing. The portals would open and dimensions would merge for all time.
Armageddon, in the most Biblical sense of the word.
Taking it into her palm, Kitty held the amulet up closer to her face, studying it carefully. Illyana was gone. Had been gone for a very long time now. And no amount of wishing in the world would ever bring her back. With the young, Russian girl's passing, the legacy of the Soulsword and the Bloodstone Amulet had passed to Kitty. They were now her burden to bear and it was far past time that she began taking responsibility for them.
After all, she had nothing else left to loose. Katherine Anne Pryde was gone for good. Everything that young woman had ever stood for, had ever wanted or dreamed of, had disappeared in that blinding, white light, along with the Sentinels. Only so much dust now, and she couldn't even mourn for the loss.
In place of the person, the woman, she had been, could have been, was someone she didn't know, a power she wasn't sure that she could even hope to control. A life she had no idea what to do with.
Letting the amulet drop, Kitty once again looked into the mirror, searched her own face, looking for answers, for clues to what her next move should be.
Naively, she'd believed, once she called the sword, her path would be set, there would be no more decisions to be made, that things would be out of her hands and she would just follow where the Soulsword led. Apparently, that wasn't the case.
Instead of Limbo, she'd come here, back to this room, but she couldn't stay. She couldn't chance Logan, Kurt, or Peter finding her. So, where was she supposed to go, what was she supposed to do?
Maybe she should try to go to Limbo. It seemed like the only logical answer at the moment. Obviously, if Amanda was here, then there was no one there, watching over things. And it was her duty. Now, and for all time.
Not yet.
Abruptly, the Soulsword broke into her thoughts, it's voice quiet, but holding a firm conviction that immediately drew her attention.
Why? Isn't that where I'm supposed to be, now? Isn't that the whole reason you came to me in the first place?
No.
Understandably, that answer surprised her. If the sword didn't want her for Limbo, didn't want her for that demonic dimension, then what was the purpose of all that had happened? Had she given it all up for nothing?
Closing her eyes, Kitty let the image of the Soulsword fill her mind, connecting to it, as she sought answers.
Tell me the reason, then. I think I deserve to know at least that.
The answers you seek are within you, but are hidden, blocked. Before you can understand the truth, the blinders must be removed. For that, you will require aide.
Aide from who? Or what?
In answer an image swam into her mind, a face Kitty knew well, with it's distinctive, electric blue eyes and thick, black hair. Accompanying it was one of the quatrains from the diaries. One she only now began to understand.
Amidst death and the raging fire of the Hunters,
It is at last called forth in despair.
The Books must be gathered,
To their known number, add one.
The Knowledge shall guide,
An ally in Wisdom.
The Keeper awakens,
Seeking the Champion.
And, just like that, it became clear. It was so simple. Why hadn't she seen it before?
Kitty quickly gathered her bags, then, with no more than a thought, summoned the Soulsword and asked it one final question.
Can you take me there?
As had happened over the skies of Genosha such a short time before, the young mutant seemed to fade, disappearing into thin air as if she'd never been.
Within the sprawling mansion of Professor Charles Xavier things were almost eerily quiet on this warm, early spring afternoon. In fact, it was quieter now than it had been in all the years since it's owner had begun to collect, house, and train the first group of young mutants that had eventually evolved into the X-Men.
The reason for all this peace and quiet was quite simple, really. For the first time in nearly two decades, there wasn't a team of X-Men in residence. In fact, unbeknownst to the absent Professor, the X-Men, as a team, as a unit, were no more.
Illyana Rasputin, however, had no way to know this. She had no way to know that her brother was still alive, no way to know of the drama that was playing out in Genosha, of all the things that had befallen her older brother and her best friend in the past weeks.
She was simply operating on the information she did have, going to the most logical place she could think of, knowing that she needed to find Kitty.
Events had finally taken place, after untold centuries of waiting, that had set the wheels in motion. But there was no way for her to know exactly what those events were, or what they had left yet to do. She would only know that once she found her friend. And the books.
Though she had some information, probably more than anyone else involved in this save one, Illyana didn't have nearly all the information. That would be contained within the diaries. When they were finally brought together, along with the book she possessed, only then would all the puzzle pieces fall into place.
The teleportation circle opened and Illyana stepped out of the golden light into a place she hadn't set eyes on in over seven years. As the ring of light automatically closed behind her, she looked around the rec room of Professor Charles Xavier's mansion, her deep blue eyes taking in every detail.
For the most part, it looked - surprisingly and comfortingly - much the same as it had the last time she'd been here. The furniture was newer and so was the TV. But the big, multi-colored rug in the middle of the floor was the same one they'd all rolled around on countless times in the past, the walls were the same neutral beige that she remembered.
It even smelled the same, redolent of lemony furniture polish and the faint, lingering scent of stale popcorn, from scores of nights spent watching movies or TV and munching on a huge bowl full of the crunch, fluffy snack. If she looked long enough, she could easily see herself, Kitty, Piotr, and Doug, as they'd all been nearly a decade before, sprawled out on the couch and the floor, watching some lame movie on TV, throwing popcorn at one another, and laughing like the children they'd been.
Children, with gifts and responsibilities unlike any other, but children, none the less. Certainly, they hadn't felt like children at the time, but the distance of time gave her a slightly different perspective, and she realized how very young, how very child-like they'd all truly been.
Kitty would be on the sofa, pretending indifference to the fact that Peter was sitting beside her, but all the while, she'd be inching closer and closer to him. Doug would be sprawled out on the floor, pretending not to watch them, or to be jealous of Kitty's feeling's for her older team mate. Peter would be pretending not to notice how close Kitty was to him, or the fact that she wasn't exactly a little kid anymore, or that Doug practically drooled every time he looked at her, now.
And Illyana would be pretending not to notice any of it, while she watched a crappy movie and tried not to laugh out loud at how hard her friends and older brother were trying not to acknowledge the obvious.
God, she missed those days, missed Piotr, and Doug, and Kitty and all the rest of the X-Men and the New Mutants. Missed the all too short, precious, time they'd all had together before everything had started going so wrong.
Before Kitty and Peter had been so seriously injured, nearly killed, by the Marauders during the Morelock Massacre. Before Doug was killed by that madman, the Ani-mator. Before nearly all the X-Men had died in Dallas. Before she'd nearly let the darkness take her.
But now, if she could find Kitty, if they could do what needed to be done, then they would have a chance to push the darkness back into the pit, where it belonged, once and for all. Where it could never again destroy the innocence of youth.
And maybe, just maybe, they could recapture a little of that happiness from before. It wouldn't be exactly the same as it had been. It couldn't be, but at least it would be something.
Brushing her fingertips across her cheek, Illyana wiped away the few tears that were tracing a narrow trail down her face, sniffling a little as she did so. Then, taking a deep breath and bracing herself - for what would, at the very best, be a reunion accompanied by a lot of tears and lengthy, complicated explanations, or, at worst, a long afternoon and night filled with anger, hurt feelings, and recriminations – the young Russian woman turned toward the hallway, intending to go in search of whoever might be home at the moment.
It was time to get this show on the road.
Stepping out into the hallway, she felt almost like she'd never left as she walked the few paces toward the main staircase that would take her toward the girls dorm. Illyana didn't know if Kitty would be here, or if she might still be on Muir, or somewhere else completely different, but this was as good a place as any to start.
Because her thoughts were on other concerns, her attention otherwise occupied, Illyana didn't register the sound of footsteps, the clack of high heels beating a rapid staccato on the polished wood floor, coming from the opposite direction. Nor did she notice the presence of the statuesque, platinum blonde headed her way, cell phone plastered to her ear as she engaged in a heated conversation with the party on the other end.
So engrossed were they in their own affairs, that neither woman noticed the other until the two had collided in the middle of the foyer.
As the cellphone clattered to the parquet floor, Emma Frost's head snapped up, ice blue eyes blazing with irritation and annoyance, as she prepared to verbally flay whoever had been clumsy and rude enough to nearly knock her off her feet. But the scorching remark she'd been about to snap out died in her throat as she looked into the face of a girl long dead.
It was nearly impossible, most times, to take the White Queen by surprise. Her power and skill as a telepath were nearly without equal. But she'd been busy arguing with Charles, sure that, other than herself, the mansion was empty, so she hadn't been bothering to scan. A few seconds later, she was rather regretting that lapse as she barely had time to take a breath, let alone recover from her shock, before Illyana struck out.
The Russian woman gaped, her dark blue eyes going wide in shock, followed immediately by a quick, bright rage, at seeing the White Queen of the Hell Fire Club inside the home of the X-Men. Reacting on pure, primal instinct, she lashed out with the strongest burst of magical force she could muster, hitting Emma squarely in the chest before she even had time to think of shielding herself.
The older woman went flying backwards across the foyer, slamming into the far wall and slumping to the floor, dazed and barely conscious. Illyana had no intention of allowing her time to recover.
She'd dealt with this woman too many times in the past and she knew exactly how dangerous she was. There would be time later, when she could find the X-Men, to find out how and why Frost was here. Right now, her main concern was to put the formidable telepath out of commission long enough to figure out what the hell was going on.
Just as Emma began to stir, Illyana reached her, grabbing a handful of platinum blonde hair, and pulling back with her fist to deliver the knock out punch. However, before she could land the blow aimed squarely at the White Queen's aquiline nose, a concussive explosion erupted at her feet, sending her stumbling back and causing her to lose her grip on the other woman.
Whirling around, eyes blazing a bright blue-white, mass of golden blonde hair fanning out around her, Magik caught sight of a tall, attractive man with dark brown hair and unusual red on black eyes, standing just inside the front doorway. He was dressed casually - in jeans, a blue sweater, and a tan trench coat - holding a playing card which seemed to be glowing, leading her to assume that he had been the originator of the aforementioned explosion.
"Now, now, cher. I know de White Queen, she be annoyin' as hell sometimes, but I can' just let you go bashin' her face in, much as she probably deserves it. Not without good reason, anyway, non?"
Backing up against the bottom handrail post of the staircase, taking up a defensive position, Illyana's gaze shifted between this strange newcomer with the, apparently, French accent and Emma Frost, trying to keep an eye on both of them while her mind raced through attack and defense options.
This was insane. What in God's name had happened here while she was gone?
"Who the hell are you? And where are the X-Men?"
Her demand seemed to surprise the stranger and he shot her a puzzled look, one dark eyebrow arched quizzically, while still holding that glowing card. After studying her for a moment, he seemed to decide he should answer and he had just opened his mouth to speak when another figure pushed past him, shoving him out of the way almost casually as she ran though the door, obviously braced for a fight.
As soon as the woman caught sight of Illyana, however, she came to a screeching halt and the two women stared at one another in stunned incredulity. This newcomer, at least, was someone that Illyana recognized, but she was no less surprised to see her than she had been to see the White Queen.
The emerald green eyes, the thick auburn hair with the white stripe down the middle, the attractive face with it's strong features, all of it was unmistakable.
Rogue.
But she was supposed to be dead. Just as dead as Peter.
"Illyana?!" Rogue stammered in amazement, just as thoroughly shocked as the younger woman, as she took in the scene before her. Emma, sprawled on the foyer floor, slumped against one wall, trying to shake the cobwebs out of her head. Gambit, coming up close behind her, still holding that charged playing card, just in case. And then there was the young woman standing in front of her.
The southern woman couldn't help gaping at the tall, shapely blonde standing backed against the Newell post, steeled for a fight. This couldn't be right. That couldn't possibly be Illyana Rasputin, the elder version. But, if it wasn't, it was a damned good imitation.
"Rogue?!" Illyana seemed just as stunned to see her, all the blood seeming to drain from her face in a rush, leaving her deathly pale. "Is that you? Really you?"
"What de hell?" Remy finally spoke up, looking from his girlfriend to the striking blonde plastered against the stair railing - the one Rogue had just addressed as Illyana - his face a mask of complete and total incomprehension. "How can dat be Illyana. She was just a little kid...."
"Oh, God." Suddenly, Illyana's whole body relaxed as a glimmer of understanding suddenly hit her and she realized what must have happened. Bonelessly, she flopped down hard onto the bottom stair step, dropping her head into her hands. "Damn. How the hell did this happen? Damn. Damn, damn, damn."
"What?" both Rogue and Gambit asked in unison, still watching this newcomer warily, Remy out of inbred suspicion of strangers, and Rogue in a state of shock, not daring to believe that this woman could actually be who she seemed. And neither of them were quite sure she was exactly stable.
Raising her head, the blonde Russian girl shot them a rueful smile. "Would you believe me if I said I accidentally teleported into the wrong dimension?" When the other two mutants just stood there and continued to gape, regarding her with more than a little skepticism, she shrugged her shoulders lightly, sighing dramatically as she adopted a rather sheepish, embarrassed expression. "What can I say? Whoops?"
Amanda Sefton and Rhane Sinclair made their slow, miserable, silent way from the hangar to the elevator that would take them to Muir Island's main level.
Though their flight back had been a long one, they had barely spoken a dozen words since leaving Genosha. Too much had happened, there was too much pain and anguish yet for any of them to feel like conversation.
Maybe, in a few days, things would be better, they might be able to look at it in a different perspective. One that would let them sort through everything logically. But, right now, they each had their own pain, their own regrets, their own guilt and self recriminations to deal with that had absolutely nothing to do with logic and everything to do with emotions still too raw to share with anyone else.
By unspoken agreement, the two women boarded the elevator and rode from the third sub-basement to the first level, where the living quarters, kitchen, rec room, and other household common areas were located. Under other circumstances, Amanda might have been happy to be back here, where she had, for the most part, nothing but good memories from her time with Excalibur. After the events of today, however, the lovely sorceress couldn't muster even the slightest enthusiasm for her return to this place.
"Are ye sure ye dinn'a want to go down to the medlab? Let me at least look at your ribs? They might be broken, ye know."
Rhane's soft question shattered the heavy silence and Amanda turned to find the younger woman watching her with obvious concern in her bright green eyes, her face drawn, even more pale than it's usual soft ivory. She looked like Amanda felt; as if she'd just taken a hard kick to the gut.
Trying to give the former were-girl a little reassurance, her mouth curved the slightest bit as she shook her head and tried to sound convincing. "No, I really think it's just bruises. But, I promise. If it's not better tomorrow, I'll let you poke and prod me all you want."
"All right." Rhane acquiesced rather reluctantly, still concerned about the injuries the older woman had sustained and not particularly thrilled with the idea of something possibly happening to yet another friend. At this rate, their ranks were slowly, but surely, dwindling. "If ye're sure....?"
"Yeah. I'm sure. All I want to do right now is get a shower and try to forget about this entire day. At least for a few minutes."
"Aye." Rhane agreed somberly, falling again into a silence that laced the air with an almost palpable layer of worry, regret, and a weariness that went bone deep. A weariness, not just of the body, but of the heart and soul as well.
It was something all of them – Amanda, Peter, Kurt, Rhane, Logan, even Magneto – had felt today and none of them were sure how to shake it, or even if they could. It hung over them like a miasma, seeming to suck the energy out of their very spirits.
Upon reaching the main floor, they parted ways, Rhane going to her room and Amanda going automatically to the room she'd used before, when Excalibur had been based here. Other than the fact that the room held none of her personal effects any longer, it was largely unchanged, and that fact alone was something of a comfort. At least some things, it seemed, remained constant in this chaotic, unstable world.
Amanda stayed in the shower for a long, long while, letting the hot, nearly scalding, water wash over her, removing the grit and grime of battle and washing it away, down the drain, as if it had never been.
If only the water could do the same with her memories.
Every time she let her mind wander, even the least little bit, she saw Kitty, calling the Soulsword to her, rising in the air, surrounded by that aura of light so bright, so brilliant, that they hadn't even been able to look at her. And all those Sentinels following after her, like children after the Pied Piper.
Within seconds it had all been over. The Sentinels were gone and so was Kitty. Amanda couldn't even begin to imagine how, or where. Unless she'd gone to Limbo. But, somehow, she didn't think that was the case.
Then what had happened to her? It was a question she had to ask, but also one she knew they may not really want the answer to.
Amanda was still in awe, and not a little terror, of what she'd seen. She'd known the Soulsword was powerful, that she, herself, hadn't even begun to tap into that power. In truth, she'd never been really sure that she could, or that she wanted to. Today, however, she'd seen that power unlocked within a moment, with barely any effort at all on the part of the young woman who'd done it. Kitty had merged with the sword and become something the likes of which she'd never encountered, personally, outside of myth and legend.
She, like Peter, could only compare it to the Phoenix force for sheer, mind numbing, awe inspiring, displays of raw power. And, of course, she remembered only too well how that saga had ended.
Though what she'd seen confirmed every suspicion and theory that Amanda had about the Soulsword and it's connection to Kitty, the fact that Shadowcat now wielded such awesome power, while under the corrupting influence of the Beatrice Amulet, was enough to make the sorceress's blood run cold.
What would they do if Kitty succumbed completely to that influence? How could they possibly fight such power?
The simplest answer was: They couldn't. Not alone. Not without a lot of help. And, even then, they probably wouldn't have a prayer.
Then, there was that insidious little voice, whispering in the back of her mind, that told her if they lost Kitty, then they would lose Peter as well. And Amanda knew, without the slightest doubt, that it was true. They weren't fighting for the soul of only one friend, but two.
Mother, where the heck are you when I really need you?
Tomorrow, the former stewardess told herself, she would again try scrying for Margali. If anyone could give her an idea of what they might be up against, of any counter measures they might take, of any way they could track Kitty and try to get the Beatrice Amulet away from her, it would be Margali Szardos. If only she could get in touch with her.
Realizing that the water sluicing over her was slowly cooling, Amanda turned off the shower, stepped out, and quickly dried herself. Wrapping a towel around her wet hair and slipping into her robe, she padded on bare feet out of her room and down the hall, giving the bed a long, wistful look on her way by.
But pass it by she did, knowing that any attempt at sleep right now would simply be an exercise in frustration.
Despite the fact that she was dog tired, there was still too much adrenaline pumping through her system for her to get to sleep quite yet. She'd hoped the hot shower might help wind her down, but she was still too keyed up to rest. Though, when she finally did fall asleep, the pretty strawberry blonde had every idea she might just be unconscious for days.
They'd all been going on nothing but caffeine, adrenaline, and will power for days on end, with little to no sleep. Very soon, that was all going to give out and they would crash. Hard and fast.
Automatically, her thoughts turned to Kurt, Logan, and Peter, who had stayed behind, planning to go in search of the Master Mold the Sentinels had originated from. In Amanda's opinion, the damn thing didn't stand a chance. Those boys would be out for blood and looking for something to pound.
It was a way for them to keep busy, a way to vent some frustration and rage without taking it out on each other, themselves, or those around them. Miserable as they all were, it was probably the best thing they could do.
And then there was Magneto, who was probably going to scorch the entire world with his wrath, as he went about methodically hunting down and destroying whoever had sent the Sentinels to Genosha in the first place. His vengeance would be a terrible thing to see and God help the responsible parties, whoever they might be, when he found them. And Daytripper had no doubts what so ever that he would find them.
For that matter, God help anyone who got in the way of any of those four men right now. It had been years since she'd seen them all wound so tightly, or with fuses so short. Not that she blamed them. They'd been through hell recently and, just when everyone had thought it couldn't get any worse, Murphy's law had once again proven them wrong.
The three X-Men had practically shoved her and Rhane back onto the Midnight Runner to get them out of the way while, at the same time, telling them, in no uncertain terms, that their help was neither needed nor wanted. Under other circumstances, Amanda and Rhane might have been hurt by the abrupt, none too gentle, dismissal, but both women understood that they hadn't meant any harm. They simply wanted the two of them somewhere safe, so that they didn't have to worry about them as well as Kitty. And they were all hurting deeply, grieving, being eaten alive by their own guilt at being helpless to save the young woman whom they all loved fiercely, though each in a different way.
Amanda had her own share of guilt to deal with, her own shortcomings when it came to Kitty and the Soulsword and she knew Rhane felt the same way. However irrational it might seem, every one of them felt that they had failed their friend when she needed them most, that they hadn't done everything within their power to prevent what had happened.
Despite the fact that she knew, intellectually, that it was almost a foregone conclusion that Kitty would eventually call the sword, Amanda still felt that there should have been something she could do, some way she could have prevented it until they found a means to separate Shadowcat from the Beatrice Amulet and destroy it's corrupting influence.
For that was where the true danger lay. Whatever the connection between Kitty and the sword, Amanda was convinced that the Soulsword itself posed no threat to the young woman. Indeed, she believed it had been meant for Kitty all along and what she'd seen in Genosha had only strengthened that belief.
But the Beatrice Amulet was another story all together. There had been a powerful aura of evil and corruption around it and it was undoubtedly influencing Kitty. And the longer she was in contact with it, the stronger that influence would grow. Until, eventually, she really would be lost to them. Permanently.
Everything she knew about that amulet - which, admittedly, wasn't a great deal – led her to believe that it engendered nothing but iniquity and suffering.
Perhaps, over the next few days, she could go back over her information, everything she, Kurt, and Logan had written down, logged into the laptop, everything that she remembered about the Beatrice Amulet that she hadn't had a chance to put into any coherent form yet.
Maybe, somewhere in all of that was at least some of the answers they were looking for. Somewhere, there had to be information that would tell her what their next step should be. She just hoped that, when and if she finally did put it all together, it would be in time to actually do some good.
Her mind still racing, Amanda had nearly reached the kitchen when the perimeter alarms sounded, their electronic warning blaring out in the otherwise quiet complex.
Before the former flight attendant could recover her wits, Rhane came flying out of the kitchen, her bathrobe and long, damp hair trailing behind her as she ran to the wall monitor beside what served as the front door of the Muir Island Research center. Following quickly after the younger girl, Amanda came up behind her, laying a hand on her shoulder as they both stared at the monitor, Rhane quickly tapping various keys on the built in keyboard, trying to lock in on the cause of the disturbance.
Oh, please.....for pete's sake, don't let us be under attack. I just don't think I've got the energy to deal with that right now and I'm not sure I can muster the energy to even care if they blow the whole place sky high.
The former Queen of Limbo sent up the heartfelt plea as she waited to see what new catastrophe was about to befall them, while they were here alone, with no backup. But the image that finally filled the little screen was nothing even close to what she'd expected.
Striding toward the door was a very familiar figure, wreathed in tendrils of golden fire, long, slightly curly red hair lifting gently in the breeze, dressed in a very well known, scarlet red costume, with a bright gold sash around her waist and a gold firebird emblazoned across the chest.
Rhane turned, throwing Amanda a perplexed look over her shoulder. "Is that Jean?"
"No. Not Jean." Amanda shook her head slowly, not really believing her eyes. Never the less, she walked the few steps to the entranceway, Rhane close on her heels, and opened the door to the young woman standing just outside.
Their eyes met, and the statuesque redhead smiled at her brightly as she stood on the threshold, one hand poised to knock, grass green eyes twinkling mischievously at Rhane's obvious confusion and Amanda's just as obvious shock.
"Hi, guys." Rachel Summers greeted them cheerfully, as if it had only been a few days since they'd last set eyes on her, and not nearly five years. "Miss me?"
The sun was low on the horizon, casting long, thin shadows along the ground, reminding Kitty of restless spirits, reaching out to the living, seeking peace and solace.
Of course, the image could have something to do with her current location. It wasn't exactly where she'd meant to go. But, now that she was here, Kitty realized that it was where she needed to be.
This was one more page from her life that needed to be turned, one more loose end that needed to be tied up, before she could move forward again. Everything she'd ever done and everyone she'd ever known, she was just beginning to realize, was interconnected, like the interlocking pieces of a puzzle. Each, when put into it's proper place, led to another and another.
All the threads of her life, when finally knit together, made a picture that she was only now starting to see clearly, though the overall purpose, the end result, still eluded her.
But here, in this small English cemetery, one more small piece fell into place. And Kitty knew it would lead her to another, the process continuing until the tapestry was complete.
She only wished she knew where it would all leave her in the end.
Though she'd only been here once before, years ago, Kitty knew exactly where she was going. Slowly, she made her way down the narrow, grassy pathway, past rows and rows of headstones, monuments, and mausoleums, reading names and dates at random simply for something to do, something to occupy her mind so that she didn't think about her destination.
In only a few minutes, however, she was there.
Turning to face her destination, she let her duffle bags drop to the ground and took a step forward, gazing down at the two small headstones in front of her, set side by side. The one on her right belonged to a woman she'd never met, but who she felt she knew, none the less. After all, she'd heard enough about her, knew of her troubled relationship with her ex-husband and two children, knew, in great detail, the circumstances of her death.
How she and her son, her youngest child, had argued over the phone a few days before she died. How he'd been angry with her and had decided not to visit her that fateful day, as he'd been supposed to. How this woman had sat at her window, watching for the son that wasn't coming, only to be caught in the crossfire as a spree killer went through her neighborhood, shooting everyone and everything in sight.
And she knew, all too well, how her son had carried the guilt of her death around with him, a lead weight around his heart that he could never be rid of. How it had haunted him every day for the rest of his life, whether he chose to show it outwardly or not.
Now, he was here, beside her, and Kitty could only hope, pray, that he had at last found some peace.
Kneeling on the cool, damp ground, she turned her attention to the headstone on the right, reaching out to trace the letters carved into the marble, her fingertips running over the smooth stone.
Peter Winston Wisdom
Beloved Son and Brother
Almost two years. Pete had been dead for almost two years, yet it seemed like only yesterday that he'd walked out of her life with barely a word. Kitty hadn't wanted it to end that way between them, hadn't wanted them to part company with so much hurt and anger between them, with so much left unsettled, but she'd botched things so badly and he'd been unwilling to talk to her then.
In retrospect, Kitty realized that it wasn't because he'd been trying to hurt her, but because he'd been trying not to. She'd broken his heart, betrayed him, and his natural reaction would have been to lash out at her, to hurt her as badly as she'd hurt him. And he could have done it, too. Easily.
But he'd loved her, loved her in a way that she hadn't, in the end, been able to reciprocate. In fact, she was probably the first person Pete Wisdom had allowed past that hard, bristly, obnoxious exterior – the one he used to keep the rest of the world at a distance - in a very long time. He'd allowed her to see the man inside, with all the scars, and the pain, and the regret for the things he'd done, allowed her to glimpse the good man behind the cold, uncaring exterior. Pete had opened his heart and soul to her, and she'd repaid him by hurting in the same way that she, herself, had been hurt.
She'd been such a child. At nearly twenty, she should have had more maturity, been more of an adult, than to do something so unthinking, so callous.
Pete had done the only thing he could under the circumstances. He'd packed up and left before either of them could say something that they'd never be able to take back. He'd left them with the possibility of a reconciliation in the future.
Though Kitty understood that she had never loved him with the same depth of feeling he'd had for her, she had cared for him, quite a lot, and would have liked the opportunity to sit down with him, to talk out what had gone wrong and apologize for the way she'd hurt him, to give them the chance to at least try to be friends. Before any of that could happen, he'd been killed on a mission with X-Force. She hadn't even known, prior to that, that he was working with Cable and Domino's group.
The X-Men had been on a mission at the time as well, though, for the life of her, Kitty couldn't remember exactly what it had been. By the time they'd gotten back, by the time Sam Guthrie had gotten in touch with her to give her the news that Pete Wisdom was dead, it had all been over.
She hadn't been able to attend the funeral, hadn't been given the chance to say goodbye. Not then. But she was being given that chance now. It was, she knew, part of the reason she'd come here.
Her fingers still brushing across the carved letters of the headstone, Kitty spoke softly, finally trying to put into words all the things she hadn't been able to tell him before, all the feelings she hadn't been able to articulate on the day everything had come to a head and he'd walked out.
"Pete....I know it's been a while, and I'm really sorry I haven't visited before now. I should have. I know I should have, but it was just so hard...."
Her voice trailed off, her throat closing up tightly, as all the feelings, all the emotions, that she hadn't been able to let herself experience earlier came rushing over her in a massive wave, hitting her with such force that she could hardly bear it. Breath hitching on a sob, Kitty's face crumpled as the tears began to course down her cheeks unchecked and she closed her eyes tightly against a flood she had no hope of stopping.
"Oh, God, Pete. I'm so, so sorry for all that happened between us, for the way I hurt you. You didn't deserve that. It wasn't your fault. It was me. You loved me so much....and it scared me to death. You put me on a pedestal and I couldn't deal with it. I should have told you, should have tried to make you understand that I couldn't be your savior, that I couldn't be your redemption."
With a shuddering breath, Kitty covered her face with her hand, rocking lightly back and forth as she continued to speak through the tearing sobs wracking her body. Now that she'd started, it was as if the floodgates had opened, and she couldn't stop. She had to get it out.
"I didn't mean to hurt you. I swear I didn't. I honestly thought I loved you.....and, I guess, in a way, I did. It just wasn't as much as I should have....not as much as you deserved. And I handled it all so badly. I should have done better. I should....."
She choked again, knowing that she needed to say the words, for her own peace of mind, for closure, but it was so hard for her to admit, so hard for her to force it all out. Even now. But Pete deserved the truth, once and for all. Whether he could hear her or not, she owed him that much.
"I should have told you.....Oh, God......I should have told you that I was still in love with Peter. But I knew how much that would hurt you, after what he'd done, after all that had happened.......And I tried to convince myself that I didn't love him. I tried to tell myself that it was only the normal concern that anyone would have for a friend, but I was lying to all of us. If only I'd been honest with you, honest with myself, I might have saved us all so much pain."
As she spoke, the tears continued to course down her face unchecked. Tears for Pete, and for Peter, and for her father, and even for herself. Tears of sorrow and regret, for all the mistakes she'd made, for everything that she'd lost. It all came pouring out of her.
Only a short time before, she'd believed she no longer had any emotions, any feelings, left. She'd been so very wrong. It had only been a defense mechanism, a way of keeping herself sane until she could do what she needed to do, until she could get away. Now, it all came pouring out in an overwhelming flood of grief, pain, and regret that nearly swept her away.
"I lost my father today, Pete. I stood there and watched helplessly as a madman killed him without even a second thought. I watched as a bunch of Sentinels tore people apart, left and right, for no reason, except that they were mutants and had the bad luck to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. And....and, I think I may have lost my soul trying to stop it. But I didn't have any choice. I couldn't stand by and watch any more people I love die. Not when I could stop it."
"And, now, I'm here. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I just wanted you to know how sorry I am and that I never meant for things to end like they did between us. I never meant to hurt you. I know that doesn't make it right, or make it ok ......I'm just so lost, Pete....and I don't know what to do anymore, or where to turn....I've made such a mess of my life, and of so many other people's lives......and I don't know how to make it stop...."
Unable to continue, Kitty slumped forward, dropping her face into her hands as she wept brokenly, sobbing so hard that her entire body shook.
She didn't know how long she'd been there, weeping over the grave of a man she'd wronged in so many ways, when she felt a gentle hand settle on her shoulder and a soft voice, with a rather pronounced cockney accent - a voice she easily recognized, though she hadn't heard it in years - spoke quietly to her.
"Kitty? Oh, cripes. Don't cry, gel. You'll only get me started. It's all right. Everything's going to be all right now. I'm here to help you."
Lifting her head, she turned toward the speaker, snuffling and swiping at her eyes as she took in the head of thick, black hair and the unusual - the familiar - electric blue eyes. Eyes that were almost as tear filled as her own,.
The two stared at one another for a moment, Kitty's bottom lip trembling violently, before she reached out to the person kneeling beside her and felt herself being gathered into a tight, comforting, embrace as she cried out all the hurt, pain, and fear in her heart and the sun dipped down behind the horizon, leaving them in shadows and darkness.
And, for the first time since it had all begun, Katherine Pryde felt a ray of true hope pierce the gloom that surrounded her.
Again, let me apologize for the ending that left you hanging. I swear, more will become clear in the next chapter.
Reviews: Again, let me thank everyone who took their valuable time to send in a review. They are much appreciated and probably the only thing that has gotten me this far with this chapter without going insane. You guys are the best.
Brainfear: Have no fear. Of course love conquers all. What fun would it be if it didn't. I enjoy torturing them, but I won't leave them like that forever.
Kirayoshi: Yeah, Goddess pretty much works. (big evil grin) As for her soul, well not lost exactly. More like temporarily misplaced. We'll be looking for it shortly. Kitty and Peter will get back together. Hopefully soon. But, you know they probably won't have much down time, or much less stress, for a little while yet. We'll be seeing Vargas again. Soon. He'll get his eventually, but he's not quite done yet. And, sorry no Peter this time. I was supposed to have Peter, but he's in the last part of what was supposed to be this chapter. So, he's not gonna show til next time.
Irismoon: So glad you're hanging in there with me and even more glad you're enjoying it. Things should get very interesting, very shortly, once I get everything set up and everyone in place. Hope you'll stick around.
Lia Fail: Yes, very disturbing, violent chapter. But, it's hard to have a massacre without it. ;) Bishop is so much fun to make jokes on. But I love him. He reminds me of Warf on Star Trek. There will be more mystery to come, but we'll also start seeing some of our current mysteries start to unravel slightly, now that everyone is on the same time and same dimension. Really glad you're enjoying it so far. I like to touch on some of the comic aspects and rearrange them to suit me. Makes me feel powerful. I liked that particular Yu version of Kitty, too. And, yes. Revolutions was horrid. Let's hope Reload is better. Gotta love those X-Babies. And Piotr was such a cute little guy, too. What more justification do we need for our Kitty/Piotr obsession? I feel very justified.
Darkstorm5000: We all love Lockheed. Couldn't really leave him out of all this. And Kitty would've really missed him. She's lost enough already, I think, without losing him, too. As for Magneto, well I'm a fan of non-insane Magneto back when he had a personality and a conscience. I can't write giggly, insane, completely evil Magneto. It's just not right. Yes, the Genosha stuff was pretty intense, but at least I left lots more people alive than Marvel did. As you see, Kitty isn't gone, just relocated. We'll have more on that next chapter. And, don't worry. I'm not sure anyone truly understands everything that went on in Inferno. Every team on the face of the earth who had ever even looked at an X was in that and there were several different plots going on at once. We're all slightly confused on that one.
T.A. Pixiestix: Glad you enjoyed it. Strangely enough, I had a really good time writing it, even though I was pretty much wreaking havoc on an entire country. Kitty, as you have found out, has relocated slightly. Yes, the books are Illyana's and more will be explained on that later. Cliffhangers? What cliffhangers? Lol. I guess I just love torturing people and characters. Didn't quite mean for this chapter to be such a cliffhanger. It just turned out that way. Of course, Kitty and Peter had to have a few minutes together before all the crap really hit the fan. They'll be seeing one another again soon, too. Yeah, Wolvie's pretty torn up, but so is everyone else. Mass angst. Gotta love it. It's ok if you're sad, as long as it's a good thing. Still wanted Kitty in the movie. All they would have had to do was change the whole plot. Is that so much to ask?
Gypsy: I'm thrilled that you're enjoying this so much. I'm enjoying writing it. Most of the time. I'll be happier when I get past the next chapter. Then, things should start to pick up. And, surely you don't think I'd leave Wolvie out? After all, against magic, what more could you want than a guy who can turn to steel and a guy with big, sharp, metal claws?
Coming Soon: With any luck, we'll find out just who that is Kitty's hugging in the grave yard. We'll get Illyana's reaction to the fact that the X-Men, including her brother, aren't really dead. We'll visit the boys as they smash Master Mold into little tiny pieces, and we'll check back at Muir for reactions to Rachel's arrival.