Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men. The canon ideas and original characters (Charles Xavier, Kurt "Nightcrawler" Wagner, Robert "Iceman" Drake, Jean Grey, Erik "Magneto" Lehnsherr, "Black" Tom Cassidy, Peter "Colossus" Rasputin, Sean "Banshee" Cassidy, Elizabeth "Betsy" Braddock, a.k.a. "Psylocke", and Mastermind) were created by Stan Lee and Marvel comics; therefore, X-Men belongs to them. Jennifer Kaneshige, David Forslund, and I co-own our original character David Forslund, but his nickname "Blacklight" belongs solely to me. I also created and own the characters Jet "Sidewinder" Black, Kristina "Phantom (X)" James, Tamiko "Sonic" Kaneshige, Caleb "Hephaestus" Tucker, Deanna "Medusa" Barnes, Matthew "Falcon" James, Tina Andrews "Gypsum" Black, Hanna "Evie" Black, Jason McCleod, Lauren "Sable" Shadoan, Dennis Owen, and any other character ultimately unrelated to the original Marvel universe. This story, "The Hunt for Black Tom", is © Kristina Jones 2003, and any plagiarism or copyright thereof without the explicit consent of the author is prohibited.
X-Men: "The Hunt for Black Tom"
"I am a lighthouse, worn by the weather and the waves. I keep my lamp lit to warn the sailors on their way. I'll tell the story, paint you a picture from my past. I was so happy, but joy in this life seldom lasts." Nickel Creek, "A Lighthouse's Tale"
Chapter IV: Unforgotten Memories
Throwing punch after punch into the bag that hung from the ceiling on a single chain, Kris grimaced in confusion. The sweat trickled down her brow, and she wiped it away with her arm. Tapping her gloves together inches from her face, she let out a quick jab at the bag with her left arm. Her freckled shoulders glistened as the sweat stuck to her skin. Screaming, she jumped back and swung out her leg. Her shoe collided with the bag, and it swung carelessly to and fro. Heaving for breath, she came to a stand still and removed one glove with the underside of her opposite arm. Massaging her knuckles, she frowned and wiped her forehead.
"Not bad," someone said loudly, his voice echoing from inside the gymnasium. Dropping her gloves to the floor, she turned abruptly, her blue eyes squinted, and she searched for the carrier of the voice. Her thoughts roamed, but she could not keep track of the stranger for long, he dodged in and out of her telepathic grip. A shadow flew by to her right and she immediately whipped around to face the intruder. "Not bad at all," his voice repeated with a laugh. His accent was thin and smooth, catching on the roof of his mouth with a hiss.
"Who's there?" Kris shouted, her voice carrying in an echo. Another shadow sped by in her peripheral vision, and she jumped, her arms up by her face in defense. "Show yourself!" She screamed, tension straining inside her throat.
There was a sharp laugh, and Kris's brow furrowed in confusion and fear. She could not properly sense whoever was there. "Are you afraid?" the voice asked. "There is no need to be afraid of me." And suddenly there was a breath upon her neck. The hairs on her arms rose in terror, and her eyes grew wide. Ever so slowly, she moved to turn and then jabbed her elbow as hard as she could into the man's stomach. He stumbled backward, gasping, and she jumped away and stared at him. She was ready to defend herself with her arms and legs set. He looked up at her, his wavy black hair falling into his violet eyes. Her mouth fell open in horror as she laid eyes upon his. His pupils were strangely thin and snake-like.
The stranger only smiled snidely as she gaped at him in horror. In an instant, his body moved with snake-like agility and speed, and he was behind her again, his arms around her waist, holding her tight. Screaming in terror, Kris's arms and legs flailed, hoping to collide with any member of his body. But he was inhumanly agile and dodged her every move with ease. Gripping her tightly, he laid his head on the crook of her neck and took in a deep breath of her skin. "Oh," he let out in ecstasy. "Your skin is so warm." Tears glistening in her eyes, she vainly fought to be released. He was running his face along her short blonde, taking her scent in with deep breaths.
"Please, let me go," she whispered in shock and horror. He only chuckled inside his throat, and his breath escaped his mouth in a thin hiss. She could smell the scent of cigarettes on his breath as he pressed the side of his face near her ear.
He held her tighter and brought his mouth close to her ear and hissed, "And you're beautiful. He didn't tell me that."
"Who? Who told you what?" Kris shouted so that he grimaced against the volume of the voice in his ear. "Let go of me, you bastard!" she screamed, suddenly her anger growing. Concentrating as hard as she could on his thoughts, she pierced through his mind like a knife. His grip loosened only just as he winced from the pain. And closing her eyes, Kris let out a shrill scream inside of his mind, and he swooned, stumbling back in agony at the ringing inside his head. Turning on him in his moment of weakness, she let her leg sail through the air, and her foot came down hard against his shoulder. He screamed, caught at unawares, and she slammed her fist against his jaw.
Then, when he was on his knees in pain, she turned and bolted for the doors across the gym floor. Hauling her legs as fast and hard as she could, she shouted, "Professor, get me the hell outta here!" Xavier caught her message, she could feel it. But before she reached the doors, something caught her ankles and she tumbled forward, her head slamming against the wooden floor. The stranger was upon her, his hands pressing her shoulders to the ground. Kris screamed as he forcefully turned her over so that she faced him. His mouth was wide as he leaned toward her face, and she saw protruding from its roof, two two-inch long fangs. Groaning in terror, she slammed the ball of her left hand against his nose, forcing his face away. But he simply moved around her and sank his teeth into the skin along her wrist. The fangs pierced through her skin, and she screamed in agony as they broke through the veins and she felt them secrete their venom into her arm.
Withdrawing his fangs from within her wrist, the stranger licked her blood that had splattered onto his lips, and whispered, "I'll be back soon." And with that, he watched her arm fall heavy to the floor, and his form flicked away with the speed of a snake and he had disappeared. Tears of agony spilling from her eyes, she had no strength to move as the venom rushed through her system. Her eyes grew heavy as the pain burned throughout her entire body seizing in painful tremors, and darkness crept in.
Jolting from sleep, Kris gasped for breath, hot sweat upon her face. Staring around the darkness, she let her breath ease when she realized that it had all been a dream. Grimacing, she felt the tears forming behind her eyes as she looked down at her wrist. There she could make out the scars in the darkness, light pink and easy to spot from a distance. The two spots where Jet's fangs had pierced her skin were aching as she thought about them. "It was ten years ago, Kris," she whispered to herself amid the darkness. "It's over now." She fought to comfort herself, but the dream had been so vivid, as though she had lived through it another time.
Leaning back against the pillows, she closed her eyes and fought to rid the memory from her mind. In minutes she had fallen back into sleep.
As the hours past, she struggled to sleep as the warmth of the winter night trapped inside the covers, and she tossed and turned to adjust. The more she seemed to fight against the heat, it felt as though the temperature continued to rise. Fighting with the sweat droplets that rolled into her eyes, she blinked rapidly to rid the stinging from her sight. As her eyelashes fluttered, she made shapes out of the darkness about her and nearly screamed to see the silhouette of a man standing near the foot of her bed. Jolting to a sitting position, she let out a gasp as her thoughts rushed into his and her heart throbbed inside her throat.
"Good evening, Phantom," he whispered melodically, his Irish accent flowing softly over his tongue. The heat about her grew, and she fought to jump to her feet, but a thought in the back of her mind compelled her to remain frozen. A high pitched ringing echoed inside her ears, and her temples throbbed.
Staring into the image of the dark man, she saw his appearance flicker, wavy like a mirage. Blinking, she shook her head and the image molded into something of a different man. "No," she whispered under her breath, pushing back the images of heat and the man from her mind. "Get out of my head!" she screamed, unable to move. The only thing she seemed able to do was to stare into the bright green eyes of a man that she only knew by reputation. "Mastermind," she muttered, finally seeing the illusionist for who he really was.
Laughing snidely, the man ran a nervous and jittery hand through his wavy brown hair and said, "You're a terribly difficult mind to break, Phantom." Snickering, he moved toward her only a few steps. "Ironic, isn't it," he began quietly, "that the device you have hated so long actually aids in your favor?"
Her mind flashed, and she was suddenly lying in a bed, the room brightened by numerous candles. There she lay, staring at the barrenness of the cave walls, tears in her young blue eyes. Dried chips of blood flaked the skin around her temples. Her head pounded in eternal pain as she struggled to merely sit up. But the pain simply grew to an excruciating torment and she flopped helplessly back to her pillow.
"Careful, child," a calm and soothing voice said. "I do not want you to hurt yourself." Blinking the tears from her eyes, she turned to look fearfully into the soft grey-blue eyes of her most despised enemy. He walked to her and gently stroked her cheek, much like a father would comfort his own daughter.
"Why are you doing this, Magneto?" she asked in a wheezing whisper, her voice barely strong enough to reach above the sound of the constant dripping from the cave walls.
Magneto simply smiled, almost concerned, as he answered softly, "I would never want anyone to hurt you, Kris. It simply protects you from everyone else."
Blinking, tears spilled down her cheeks and suddenly she was back inside the bedroom, staring into Mastermind's formless shadow. "Those implants," Mastermind continued in a mock tease, "those tiny little fragments of metal that Lehnsherr surgically placed into your temples were meant to prevent Xavier from ever finding you." He laughed as Kris simply stared at him in anger and long held in rage. "It's certainly ingenious technology. By using a scale-downed version of his very helmet that prevents anyone from piercing his thoughts, he was able to permanently remove you from the mutant network. No matter how powerful the telepath, or empath for that matter, no one will ever find you or sense your thoughts."
Her heart pounding, she shouted, "What do you want? I know that you are not really here! I cannot fully feel you there! Although these damned implants prevent you from finding me, I have no trouble sensing you. What do you want? And how can I even see you now?"
Laughing, Mastermind began to draw away into the shadows as he replied, "So many questions… One would never believe that you might be compelled to find me." And in the next instance, he had disappeared. Searching for him with her thoughts she found nothing. All she could sense were the people in the rooms down the hallway. David slept lightly, unable to keep asleep for too long. His thoughts were confused and unsettled. Jet was dead asleep, his anger exhausting him. Kurt slept normally, waking only at times when he dreamt of teleporting in which his body actually moved to another location in the room. She wanted to giggle, but her thoughts were far too troubled to make any sense at the moment.
Her thoughts were scattered, leaping to and fro, from Mastermind to her friends. Her thoughts suddenly came to rest on one face. That face of Erik Lehnsherr. Grimacing, she saw his gently smiling face and his kind, warm eyes. "No," she whispered aloud. "You are not my father…"
The image of Lehnsherr only shook his head, and the anger inside of her grew. Climbing out of bed, she paced out of the room and to the kitchen to drink a glass of orange juice, distracting her mind from the painful memories and thoughts.
"Jet," Kris said as she sat across from him at the dining room table as he ate his breakfast and read the newspaper. "I need to talk to you."
"Okay, go ahead," he said lackadaisically, his eyes glued to the paper. "You made the front page, Phantom," he added gesturing to the rest of the paper that lay upon the tabletop.
"I don't care about that, Jet," Kris let out in aggravation. Jet's violet eyes flicked to her as the sharpness in her voice stung at him. She stared into him, obvious discomfort and anxiety behind her eyes.
Concerned, Jet leaned forward and placed his hand atop hers and said, "Kris, what's wrong?" She stared back at him, unsure as to whether or not continue with her train of thought.
"Um… Do you remember when you worked for Magneto?" she whispered hesitantly. Looking back at her suspiciously, he slowly nodded. "I need to ask you something about that."
Nodding, Jet hesitantly said, "Okay. What is it?" He himself did not like this topic of conversation, but in an effort to put his friend's mind at ease, he continued.
"Well, I just need to know—"
"Okay, let's go!" Kurt proclaimed, striding into the kitchen. "The car is packed and ready to go. We need to leave in order to make it to New York by tomorrow morning." Walking to Kris, he patted her shoulder and said with a smile, "Come on, Kris. Let's go."
"OK, Vati!" Kris replied sharply, only to smile when Kurt looked lovingly into her eyes. And with that, she stood, grabbed her pillow and jacket and headed out to the car. David was already seated in the back seat, a sketch pad on his knees, completely enthralled with his drawing. Jet climbed in next to David, and settled back comfortably.
Yawning, Kris leaned back in the front seat and stared at Jet through the mirror on the overhead visor. Kurt was the last to enter the car, but when he did, he revved the engine and they started on their long drive to Westchester.
A heave of the car as they went over a bump in the road shook Kris from a troubled sleep. Rubbing her eyes in the sunlight, she sat up from her pillow against the window and stared forward. The large mansion stood tall and welcoming in the late afternoon sunshine, and quickly turning round, she watched as the gate to the grounds closed behind them, and her eyes spotted the plaque upon its stone columns: Charles Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. "Since when did they install speed-bumps?" Kris muttered sarcastically. "They woke me up."
Kurt looked over at her and smiled. "Well, at least you were sleeping," he commented, always looking at the brighter side of things. Sighing, Kris sank down into her chair, her arms crossed over her chest.
As they continued along the driveway up to the garages, a constant frown was painted upon her face. "I can assure you," Jet was saying from the back seat, "that you won't have that frown for long."
"Just watch me," Kris spat childishly, furrowing her brow and leaning against the door. With a shake of his head, Jet let out a snicker and gazed out the window. When they finally reached the garages, Kurt parked the car next to a smooth, streamlined, red convertible. "Whose is that?" she asked curiously, gesturing at the vehicle.
"That would be Bobby's car," Jet answered. "It's his pride and joy. He bought the parts from a strip-yard and restored the whole thing himself."
Nodding, Kris yawned and stated, "It's ugly... too clean." At this Kurt laughed and shook his head. Placing her hand on the latch, she pushed and exited the car, the freezing winds biting against her skin. Tightening her denim jacket around her, she gritted her teeth and turned to David and said, "This is where the three of us went to school."
He nodded and smiled, "It's nice."
"Sure it is," she responded sarcastically. "That's what you're supposed to think." Biting her lip, she went to Kurt and they made their ways to the door. Walking inside was like taking a trip back in time. The hardwood floors made her boots click loudly against the corresponding wooden walls. She took in a breath to be greeted by that crisp, clean smell that she had used to love about this place. "It hasn't changed," she whispered, her awe showing in spite of her current attitude.
"Ich weiß, I know," Kurt muttered with a nod of his head. "Hopefully it will always remain this way." Jet stood behind them, his lips pulled into a smile. "Come," Kurt said, putting his hand on her back and leading her forward.
As they proceeded down the hallway, they remained silent until they heard jogging footsteps from ahead of them. Coming out from an adjoining corridor, a young man with light brown hair ran to them. His eyes were an icy blue, his face pulled into a broad smile. "Welcome back," he greeted, shaking Kurt's hand and embracing Jet. Turning, he stared at Kris for a moment and grinned. "Is that really you, Phantom X?" he inquired in excitement.
"You betchya," she replied. Her sour attitude dissolving, she grinned and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "Oh my gosh, Bobby!" she exclaimed, both of them laughing. "Wow, it's so awesome to see you. You look great."
"Thanks, you're not bad yourself," he responded, taking her hand and leading her forward. "You have to come see everyone!" he cried, dragging her off down a hallway.
"Okay," she answered, running along with him. "I'll catch up with you later, Kurt!" she called as they ran down the corridor that led to the student hall. Pushing open the doors, Bobby led her inside the large hall. There students were either playing random games of table tennis of phooz-ball, sitting at tables pouring over textbooks or just enjoying a bite to eat. Gazing around, memories of this place flooded her being, and she let out a laugh.
"You probably realize that the majority of us are now instructors or just resident X-Men," Bobby was saying to her. "Oh," he said, spotting someone in the middle of the room, "come here." He led her to a table where about five young men and women sat eating sandwiches and cookies. "You guys," Bobby started, getting their attention, "you'll never guess who's back." They all looked to Kris, some of them furrowing their brows, trying to place the face, and still others' mouths immediately dropped open in surprise.
One woman stood up, her bright blonde hair streaked with silver, and exclaimed, "Krissy!" When she was returned with a bashful nod, the woman jumped forward and pulled her into a huge embrace.
"How are you, Sable?" Kris said, returning the embrace with a smile and a pat on the back. Suddenly, everyone was upon her, either with hugs or handshakes, their excitement causing the room to buzz. As fast as she could recall their names, she spit them out, "Jason?... Peter?... Betsy?" They all greeted her enthusiastically and invited her to sit, but not before a voice spoke from behind her.
"Kristina Paige James," the woman said, sarcasm sliding over her tongue in amusement. Turning slowly around, Kris looked down into the brown eyes of a young Japanese-American woman, her dark olive skin shining in the florescent lighting. She ran a hand through her straight dark brown hair and grinned. As their eyes met, memories of her teenage years flooded her mind and Kris's hand flew to her mouth in shock. Tears burned behind her eyes as the young woman grinned back at her, tears in her own eyes.
"Tamiko!" Kris cried, throwing her arms around her and lifting her into the air. Tears hung on the edges of her eyes as she held the best friend she had ever known tight in her embrace. "Tami!" she exclaimed again, as though remembering what it felt like to speak her name. "You are enough to make me want to come back," she stated, releasing her friend. Putting a hand on each of her shoulders, Kris played with the tips of her red-streaked brown hair and asked, "What's up, Shorty! Still a pip-squeak?"
Laughing Tamiko answered, "Unfortunately, yes. I haven't grown an inch since eighth grade. But mind you, I don't take lightly to teasing about my height anymore."
"You never did," Kris replied with a laugh, pulling her back in with an excited hug. "But you know I'm just kidding as always," she added with the tears spilling down her cheeks. "4'11 isn't that bad." They giggled and sat down with everyone.
"So, tell us, Phantom," Betsy started, her long violet hair spilling in waves over her shoulders as she leaned upon the tabletop, her eyes wide and surprised, "what's Germany like?"
There was a moment, in which Kris nodded her head and then let out with a laugh, "Es ist gut." The group chuckled and they all were leaning forward excitedly, as though they were no longer grown men and women, but gossiping teenagers on their lunch break. In answering their questions and listening as the others filled in the gaps in time, Kris felt herself submerged in the past, memories and joys reawakening to greet her with warm embraces.
At the far side of the cafeteria, Jet and the others of her party were standing in the doorway, staring over at the group of former school mates, smug grins upon their faces. Kurt, his tail brushing the floor back and forth in content, said to Jet, "It does me well to see her smile like that. You can't imagine how long it's been since she really smiled."
His attention suddenly switching from the group to the man on his right, Jet inquired, "She's much like a daughter to you, isn't she, Nightcrawler?"
Looking over at him, somewhat startled, Kurt stared into Jet's face for a moment before smiling and replied, "Ja. Very much so."
"Does she return your feelings?" he questioned him, his eyes dancing in thought.
Kurt let out a small laugh, and nodded his head. "Around her school friend's in Germany, she would address me as 'Vati', which in English means Daddy. And there are times that I catch her calling me that even when no one is around," he pointed out, wagging a finger as though to help him remember.
"I guess that you serve as the most proper father figure that she's ever known, " Jet commented. "I mean, considering that, well, you know who is her biological dad."
At this Kurt shook his head, clicking his tongue in a mixture of disappointment and condescension. "We don't yet know that," he stated quietly. "The only proof we have is his word, and I am glad to say that we cannot always trust it."
"But surely Kris has accepted the possibility," Jet let out, gesturing toward the young woman who was now laughing at her fullest, leaning her head into Tamiko's shoulder for relief. "I mean, all of us have."
Stroking his chin, Kurt shook his head and smiled, "That's the peculiar thing about Kris. She doesn't like to accept anything without concrete proof. And just because everyone else believes, well, it gives her further reason to deny it."
His gaze darting between Kris and Kurt, Jet inquired, "Have you accepted the possibility, Nightcrawler?"
A moment passed while Kurt stared thoughtfully across the room, his bright yellow eyes twinkling behind long lashes. And finally: "Ja, ich denke, dass ich das gedacht habe. Yes, I think I have. But I can't be sure. As always, we must wait to receive the answers." Jet stared at him, perplexed and understanding, but Kurt gave no indication that he even knew he had suddenly switched from one language to the next. But Jet could understand most of what his comrade had said. Smiling, Kurt stared at Kris, love twinkling in his eyes. "She's so happy," he commented almost at a whisper. "She always was happy here…"
"Now, before you do anything else," Bobby said, standing from the table and running to Kris, "I have to show you something." There was a pause in their laughter, and Kris looked at him, perplexed.
"What?" She asked, glancing to the rest of their friends, wondering if they knew what Bobby was talking about. Tamiko giggled mischievously, looking up at Bobby almost too playfully.
Nodding to her, Bobby brought Kris to her feet and continued, "Just come with me." Turning to Tamiko, he added, "You can come too, Baby." Laughing, Tamiko jumped to her feet and followed along with them.
As they walked out of the cafeteria and into the main hallway, Kris turned to Tamiko and whispered, "Baby?"
Letting out a shy laugh, she nodded her head and muttered, "For three years now." At this Kris glanced back and forth between the couple.
"He's a bit tall for you, don't you think?" Kris let out loudly as Tamiko's hand hit her on the shoulder. "I'm just kidding, Tami! Just kidding!"
"Yeah, sure!" Tamiko replied, slapping her shoulder again in a playful laugh.
They were lead out to the back door and across the grounds to the stables near the horse pastures. "Bobby, where are we going?" Kris asked as she pursued his steps impatiently.
"You'll see," he called back, picking up his pace to a run. "Come on, hurry!" She jogged lightly behind him, her shoes kicking up the frozen snow. The wind stung at her nose, but she shook it away as they got closer to the stables. Approaching the stable doors, Bobby stopped and turned to look at her. "Nine years ago," Bobby began dramatically, causing the girls to burst into laughter, "you said goodbye to get on a plane to a distant country. But you asked me to do something for you before you left. 'One year or fifty,' you said, 'please, please take care of my baby.'" At this they burst into hysterical laughter.
"Bobby, you didn't," Kris let out in disbelief as he unlocked and began to open the wide doors. "You didn't!" She repeated as he ushered her inside, her hands to her mouth in shock. As she looked across the hay-covered floors, she saw on the far end of the stables, alone and beautiful, a rusty, pickup truck, the left headlight busted, and a dent on the front bumper. "Oh my!" She let out, screaming in utter excitement, jumping up and down in amazed disbelief. Throwing her arms around his neck, she kissed his cheek, exclaiming, "I can't believe you kept my truck!"
Laughing, he added, "And I kept her in perfect condition, just how you left her." Holding out the keys, he dropped them into her open palm and said, "And she's all yours once again."
Tears in her eyes, Kris embraced him again and ran to her truck in complete ecstasy. "I still don't understand," Tamiko inquired as her best friend ran her hands over the hood in joy. "What is so great about this truck?"
"Tami, I've explained this to you millions of times, I remember," Kris answered as she slipped the key into the door lock. "This is my 1978 Ford F-150 Pickup Truck, with its beautiful navy blue paint chipping on the roof, and all of its dents and imperfections! This is my baby!"
Shaking her head with a laugh, Tamiko shrugged as Bobby wrapped his arms around her waist. Kissing her hair, he said into her ear, "Don't ask, Tami. This is the Kris we all remember."
Nodding, Tamiko watched her friend climb inside and lay across the seats in pure amazement. "You're right, Bobby," she said in return. "Otherwise, she wouldn't be Kris."
It was late into the night when Kris finally began to make her way upstairs to her room that they had arranged for her to stay in. As she walked, she stared at the mahogany walls, as the flames in the fireplace cast dancing shadows along their smooth contours. No light shone apart from those of the flames as she continued to walk slowly down the hall and toward the stairway. As she approached the foot of the stairs, Kris stopped and stared into the sitting room, where David stood at the fireplace, leaning an arm against the long, wide mantle.
She watched him for a moment, watching as he ran a thoughtful hand through his wavy brown hair. The fingers of his opposite hand were gently tapping the wood of the mantle as his mind lingered in thought. She did not have to read his mind to see that he was troubled. "David," she called quietly to him from the archway. He startled at the sound of her voice, breaking the sounds of the silence and the flames. He looked over to her, his hair falling over his face and into his eyes. He quickly brushed it back behind his ears and looked at her curiously, his blue eyes sparkling in the light from the flames.
"Still awake, Kris?" he inquired passively, his voice barely rising above the crackling of the fire. Jamming her hands nervously into the pockets of her jeans, Kris nodded and grinned slightly.
Shrugging, she averted his gaze and let out in a mutter, "I don't sleep well anymore. And… I wanted to take a walk, you know, to get to know the place again. And I had to talk to the Professor, and he gave me the lecture I expected."
"What lecture is that?" David inquired with a laugh.
"Oh, the 'your gifts are not to be abused' speech and the 'anger and vengeance will get you nowhere' one too. But it was all right. He actually said he was glad to have me back inside his mansion." Kris answered with a laugh.
"So, you're no longer upset that you're here?" he asked so quietly, looking back into the fire. Kris shook her head and let out a laugh. At her response, he continued to gaze into the flames as he muttered, "Me neither. This place is wonderful."
Again, she watched him for a long moment, curiosity furrowing into her eyebrows as she looked into his eyes from that particular angle. "I can't help but feel like I've met you somewhere before," she let out, stepping into the room. He quickly looked back to her, his eyes responding to her stare with an intent, inquiring knowledge. He shared the same gaze with her, their questions floating unanswered between them.
Nodding slowly, he said, "I know what you mean." There was a long pause, he looked away and let out a sigh. "I can't sleep either…" Shaking his head, he looked down at his feet and whispered, "Especially last night. I kept seeing you in my head…and then I felt as though you were in as much pain as I. What's the matter, Kris?"
A small smile touching the shadows on her face, Kris stared at him in wonder. He certainly had an intuitive, almost empathic sense about him. Sighing, she shrugged and walked to the sofa and sat down upon its cushions shyly. Looking into the flickering flames, she answered, "I don't know. I just had a horrible dream last night. It's been years since I've had that dream." There was another moment of silence, and David looked over at her, and then he walked to and sat next to her on the sofa. Adjusting herself on the cushions, she continued, "It was more of a recurring memory…about when Jet…attacked me."
Startled, David grew instantly concerned and inquired, "He attacked you? When? Where?"
"Oh, no time recently. It was almost ten years ago when it happened, when Jet was working with Magneto and his Brotherhood." The words spilled out of her almost too casually. "He was told to kidnap me for one reason or another… And when I resisted, he…" She dropped off, staring down at her left wrist, rubbing the scars with her fingers. "He…" she struggled to speak but words failed her as tears burned behind her eyes. Without another word, she held out her arm to him, and David hesitantly took her hand into his. For a moment, there was a pause in which David stared at her fingertips, his own fingers gently stroking them. The moment ended quickly, and he gulped as he immediately allowed his hands to fall to his lap.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, his face reddening in embarrassment.
Calm and serene, Kris brought her arm to her lap and whispered in return, "It's all right. I don't mind." There was another long pause as they stared intently into one another. Swallowing nervously, Kris finally held out her hand again, slowly, and pointed to the scars on her wrist.
"Oh my," David let out, his hands once again taking her arm as he stared with utmost concern at the imperishable mark.
"For six years I had to take a regular injection of the special anti-venom to keep the venom neutral in my blood stream. You see, the strange thing about Jet's venom is that white blood cells can't get rid of it, all they can do is vainly kill themselves fighting against it. If I ever forgot to take the anti-venom every four hours, my body would react to the poison as though I had been bitten for the first time," Kris explained quietly, as David continued to look at the scars. "Luckily, I don't have to take the shots anymore."
"Why is that?" he asked, curious and concerned.
"Because, my body eventually was able to adapt. My mutant genes were able to teach my body to produce the same chemicals as the anti-venom. It was a miracle when one day I forgot to take the anti-venom only to discover six hours later that I was fine." She grew silent at the end of her sentence, and watched as he took her hand into his, holding it gently as he stared back into the fire. Tears suddenly forming in her eyes, Kris whispered, "Though, the dream was so vivid! I could feel everything. It was so vivid!" Without thinking, she leaned her head against his shoulder, tears hanging on the edge of her eyes.
"Where have I seen you before?" she asked in a trembling whisper, closing her eyes in thought and secret pain. Running her fingers along the back of his hand, she stared intently at his callused fingers from the years of plucking at the guitar and constant scratching of pencils on paper. "I know you!" she muttered. "Please, Blacklight, help me remember," she said, once again closing her eyes.
Shivering at the sudden sound of that name, David moved so that Kris had to sit straight, looking at him in fear and anxiety. "How do you know my name?" he asked in shock. "No one has called me that for years. Who told you? Did Jet tell you?"
Shaking her head, Kris's face tightened in worry as she muttered, "Jet? No… No one told me anything."
Staring at her intently, he put his hands to her shoulders and questioned, "Then how do you know it?"
Tears falling over her cheeks, she let out, "I don't know. It just came to me. I don't know." He let his hands fall away as his eyes pleaded for her to continue. "Just when I look at you, that name comes to mind. I can't explain it. I'm not reading your thoughts or anything, I swear! I just… I know you from somewhere."
Silence, and David stared at her, terrified. "I'm sorry," he whispered after a long time sitting in the fire lit darkness. "I just don't associate myself with that name anymore."
"What do you mean?" Kris inquired quietly, but David refused to respond, his thoughts lingering like shadows in his eyes. "I'm sorry," she muttered, staring down at her hands in nervousness. "I'm going to get to bed."
"Okay," David replied with a quick nod, his eyes dodging her very gaze. "I hope you sleep well." Then he smiled, finally looking back into her eyes.
Smiling in relief, Kris nodded and said, "You too. Good night, David." With that, she stood and made her way back to the stairs.
"Good night, Kris," he called quietly after her, his eyes following her as she proceeded up the stairs. Tears lingered there for a minute, and a lifetime of guilt and pain shown in the very fabric of his being.
