I know, I know, I'm supposed to be working on Mind Control, but this one wrote itself in my brain while I was at work today and I just had to get it down. And it was raining, so nobody drowned while i was distracted ;) Kindly R&R, I'm a feedback whore.
I don't own anything in this story. I have a grandma, but she technically owns me.
A lesson in family
Kitty Pryde bounded happily down the stairs. It was the weekend, it was sunny out, they had the day off from training and danger room sessions because Logan had taken a last minute trip to who-knew-where on his motorcycle, and Jean had promised to take her shopping for accessories to match the powder blue formal dress she had bought for the prom next month. She smiled at the thought of the upcoming dance. Lance had asked her to go with him, and while she knew many of the Mansion's students, and some of the faculty, didn't approve of the Brotherhood member, she knew that she would have a great time with him. He may be a bit of a hood, but his heart was in the right place and he genuinely tried to make her happy. She could certainly do a lot worse as far as dates went.
Kitty glanced at her watch. 8:03. Way earlier than she would normally be up on one of their rare days off from the responsibilities of school and training, but the mall opened at 8:30 and the semi-annual department store sales were calling her name. As was the intoxicating scent of fresh roasted coffee mixed with blueberry pancakes coming from the kitchen, causing her to quicken her step in lighthearted anticipation. Reaching the doorway, she smiled at the kitchen's sole occupant. "Good morning, Ms. Munroe," she chirped cheerfully, grabbing a plate from the counter and loading it up. Ororo Munroe nodded at Kitty from over her cup of sweetened coffee as she folded up the newspaper she had been reading. "Good morning, Kitty," she responded, a touch of amusement in her voice. "Won't you join me?"
Drizzling some syrup over her pancakes and adding a shake of powdered sugar for good measure, Kitty slid easily into the seat across from the beautiful woman. "I love it when you make breakfast, Ms. Munroe," she sighed contentedly, as she began cutting her stack into more manageable pieces. Ororo smiled at the young girl's sincerity. "Thank you, my dear. Here, try it with this," she added, pushing a shaker of cinnamon across the table. Kitty beamed in thanks and sprinkled the spice over her plate. Curious, she took a bite of her concoction, and closed her eyes and smiled with delight. Delicious.
Ororo looked out the window as Kitty ate her breakfast. It really was a gorgeous morning, one of those clear blue spring days where the temperature was just right for short sleeves but not warm enough to overheat. With the world becoming more and more cynical, Ororo had been pleased to discover that she hadn't become too jaded to enjoy something as simple as a beautiful day. On the contrary: she had come to appreciate such perfection in the weather even more. It was a good reminder that the universe still got things right without their help.
"Ms. Munroe?" Kitty's light voice brought Ororo back to the present, and she turned to acknowledge the girl. "Have you seen Jean yet this morning? We were going to go shopping." Ororo stood, taking Kitty's plate and her now empty coffee mug over to the sink. "I believe she went out for a run by the lake," she responded, turning on the faucet. "Why don't you go out and fetch her, enjoy the fresh air before your shopping trip?" Kitty smirked, aware of her teacher's derision for the mall, with its air conditioning and fake trees lining the corridors. "Sure, I will," she told the older woman. "Thanks for the pancakes."
Ten minutes later, Kitty was walking quickly across the grounds, the lake edge coming into view. A slight breeze was blowing off of the waters, gently playing with the tendrils of hair framing her face. Reaching behind and loosening her hair tie, Kitty shook out her hair, intending to put it up more firmly. She stopped in surprise, however, at the sight in front of her.
About fifty feet down the shoreline, Jean Grey stood on the edge of the beach, the waves lapping at her bare feet. Dressed in a red zip-up sweatshirt and shorts, her slim figure was a striking contrast to the grey water around her. The breeze that had teased Kitty's hair was blowing Jean's fiery waves around her shoulders as she held her arms close to her. Seemingly unaware of Kitty's presence to her right, the young telepath stared out into the water.
She was crying.
She was crying, but not in an uncontrolled, earth-shattering manner the way Kitty often did. Jean's tears were quiet, eyes melting as the salty water slid silently down her cheeks. Kitty stood rooted to the spot, transfixed. She had never seen Jean cry before. She didn't know that Jean ever cried. Or you never asked, a nasty voice in her head taunted her. Shut up! she admonished herself mentally, but bit her lip in shame. At the same time, she had to admit it was the truth. When was the last time she had ever asked Jean anything about herself, how she was feeling? Jean was like an older sister to them all, the one they went to for advice, or homework help, or to break up a fight. With her formidable mental powers, arresting good looks, athletic prowess and straight A's, it was easy to assume that her life was as perfect and problem free as it looked. But was it really? What if something is wrong? Kitty mused, like, really wrong? But somebody would have noticed, right? She thought of Scott. Scott would have noticed if Jean was upset about something. It was common knowledge among the students that Scott had been hopelessly in love with Jean since they were still children, though it was just as well known that Jean was completely oblivious to his affections and would probably never notice until he got up the nerve to tell her, which most of the students calculated would be sometime after hell froze over. Scott would definitely notice if Jean wasn't ok.
But if she's so ok, why is she out here crying all by herself?
Kitty wavered, unsure what to do. It was Jean, Jean and occasionally Kurt, who comforted her when she cried. She seized on the idea of running back to the mansion to wake Kurt, but dismissed it just as quickly. He would probably be as clueless as her about what to do. She thought about going back to the kitchen and getting Ms. Munroe, or even about slipping away quietly and pretending that she had never seen Jean cry at all. Deciding that this was the most practical course of action, Kitty started to sneak away quietly. But looking back at Jean, her eye was caught by the morning light reflecting off of Jean's bracelet. It was a small chain, thin and silver and remarkable only in its simplicity. But Kitty remembered it vividly from a night four months ago, just after Christmas. The night her mother had called to tell her that her grandmother had died.
Kitty had not even known that her grandma had been ill. The flu had been especially bad that winter, but nobody had thought it serious enough to call Kitty when they had taken the old woman to the hospital. It was just the flu, after all. But there had been complications, and three days later, she was gone. They should have told me, Kitty had thought angrily as she sobbed into her pillow. They should have called before, even if they didn't know how bad it was! She would still feel that anger at her parents for many weeks to come, but that night, after that initial flash of fury, all she could feel was sorrow. Memories of her grandma played through her head, and Kitty had cried even harder as the images came, unbidden.
The call had come around ten at night, and it hadn't been half an hour before Jean appeared in her nightgown. Silently, the redhead had crawled into bed with Kitty and had wrapped her arms protectively around the younger girl, who had melted gratefully into her embrace. "How—how did you know?" she had managed to choke out after a minute, and felt Jean stir under her as she shook her head. "I didn't," she had replied simply. Kitty had arched her head and looked back at her, eyes sparkling with tears. "My grandma died," she whispered. Jean had held Kitty closer to her. "Sweetie, I'm so sorry. You started projecting, and I knew it was something big, but I had no idea…" She had trailed off as Kitty began to shake with repressed tears. "Don't leave me," Kitty had begged, and if she weren't so upset, she would have been almost surprised at the raw compassion in Jean's eyes as they met her blue ones. "I wouldn't, ever," she whispered.
Kitty had spent the rest of the night clinging fiercely to the arm wrapped around her chest. She didn't notice when Jean diverted the slight attention needed to levitate some of Rogue's pajamas out the door to her roommate, who was wary of coming in while Kitty was in such a state. She didn't notice as over the next two hours, one by one, everyone else in the school had looked in on her with concern, only leaving when they had determined that Jean had a handle on the situation. Grasping the arm in front of her like a lifeline, she had focused on Jean's bracelet, rolling it in her fingers for hours, link by silver link. She slept badly that night, waking several times in tears, but each time Jean had been there, gently stroking her hair and holding her steady with her bracelet-clad arm. "I miss her, Jean," she had mumbled, sometime around three in the morning. "Why did she have to leave?" Jean's hand had slowed its tender motion, and Kitty could tell she was choosing her words carefully. As Kitty was drifting back to sleep for the final time that night, she heard Jean answer her question. "In a way, Kitty, she didn't. Your family never leaves you, not really."
Your family never leaves you. Jean may have been talking about her grandma that night, but Kitty knew that her words had applied just as well to the older girl. Jean hadn't left her side the whole night, knowing that Kitty had needed her. She was her family, along with everyone else in the mansion, just as much as her blood relatives were. Kitty turned back to the shore. Jean had always been there when she needed her; she wasn't going to walk away now.
"Um, Jean?" she asked tentatively, slowly tip-toeing toward the water. Jean shook her head slightly, snapped out of her reverie. Catching sight of Kitty, she smiled through her tears, otherwise not moving from her spot. "Hey, sweetie," she said softly, briefly raising a hand to brush her windswept hair behind her ear before tucking her arm back into place. "Ready for those sales?" All of Kitty's nervousness and uncertainty melted away as she hurried over to Jean and threw her arms around her, burying her head into her sweatshirt. Jean looked down at her, startled. "Kitty, are you ok? What's wrong?" she asked, concerned. Kitty shook her head. "I should be asking you that," she replied into Jean's shoulder, "You're the one crying out here, all alone." She lifted her head to meet Jean's confused eyes. "Is something making you sad?" Kitty asked, a bit hesitantly. "I know you're the one who takes care of all of us when bad stuff happens. But that doesn't mean that we can't take care of you, too. I won't tell anyone, you can talk to me if you want."
Jean smiled warmly, ruffling Kitty's hair as she stepped out of her embrace and walked a few steps into the lake. "Nothing bad happened, and I'm not sad, not really," she said, staring out over the water as the breeze began to blow her hair again. Kitty watched her, confused. "But, you were—"
"Crying? I know I was," Jean finished for her, turning her head to glance back at Kitty. "Sometimes, you just have to be by yourself, let everything out. I'm all right, honestly. I just needed to let go for a bit." She turned back to the water, her voice taking on an almost ethereal quality as she gazed into nothingness. "It's sort of like the meditation we do with Storm. You lose yourself for a little while, but when you're finished, you've found your center and you know who you are again." She smiled back at Kitty, simply herself again. "Do you get what I'm saying?"
Kitty narrowed her eyes, thinking. On one level, she was completely confused as to why anyone would want to cry if they could help it. But she looked at Jean. Under the tear streaks, she looked…refreshed. Happier. Happier than she had been looking the past couple weeks. She thought about the way she felt after meditation, or after a day of laying in the grass, watching the clouds. Like she was reborn, just a little. Like she could face whatever the world had to throw at her the next day. Maybe she understood, a little bit.
Jean glanced at her watch. "Hey, we should get going. Just give me a chance to change, ok? I'll be ready to go in about ten minutes." Kitty nodded at her. "I'll meet you at the garage," she said, distracted, as Jean started back toward the mansion. In truth, Kitty had almost forgotten why she had come outside. Slowly, she turned to the lake. She thought about the night her grandma had died. Died, but not left. She thought about Jean's bracelet, both back in December, and catching the sun at the lake. She thought about Jean, stroking her hair in her room; holding her when she was sad. Being the one that everyone turned to, but secretly crying alone by the lake. Looking down at her feet, Kitty realized that she was standing in the exact spot that Jean had been when Kitty had first seen her. And looking out over the water, arms held close around her ribs, Kitty wept.