A/N: So so so sorry for taking such a long time getting this to you guys. I went away for a while and then I had a hard time getting back into this. But I'm back now and I swear I will see this through to the end. Thanks for sticking with me!
Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men.
After the invasion, Kitty resolves to be braver. From now on, she tells herself as she lies sleepless one night, she's going to give everything her all, all of the time. Her fingers tangle in the sheets as she tries to smooth the ache in her chest. It's going to be exhausting, she knows. But it will be worth it.
Minutes in the dark feel like hours. Motionless, Kitty fixes her gaze on the black expanse of the ceiling and starts to form a list in her head. The most important thing now is training. She's improved a lot from those early days, the days of Scott's disappointed sighs, but she still has a long way to go.
The next day, Kitty shows up for Storm's self defense class. Storm raises an eyebrow at her, but doesn't comment. So Kitty stays.
At first she gets her ass kicked at mutation-less combat. It's surprising how fast she got used to relying on her ability to keep her from getting hurt. Not being able to use it has left her defenseless, and now she realizes her mistake.
For a while she keeps phasing on instinct, a reflex that's extremely useful in any situation but this one. Storm isn't really sure how to deal with that particular problem. "He's not actually going to hurt you," she keeps repeating, watching Kitty spar with an older kid whose name she always forgets. Each time she phases, though, the kid gets more annoyed, and the force he uses keeps increasing. Finally he makes contact, and Kitty, surprised, tumbles to the floor. Storm grimaces. "This is going to take some time," she sighs.
Lately, Logan's taken to wandering into the other professor's training sessions, and of course he's here now to witness her embarrassing defeat. Kitty hears him grunt disapprovingly. Instead of getting up, she just closes her eyes and wills everything to disappear.
The feeling of being hit—an unwanted force coming into contact with her, affecting her solidly instead of just passing through—is so jarring and foreign that Kitty wants to abandon all pretense of defending herself and just back away.
It doesn't hurt. They're just sparring, of course, none of it hurts. It's something else entirely.
After the first day, Storm pairs her with Jubilee, someone much closer in size to her. Kitty breathes a sigh of relief. Jubes can always lighten the mood with a quip of some kind, which Kitty appreciates. Even if she makes fun of Kitty's slowness.
"Kit, I swear, you have the worst reflexes of anyone I've ever met." Jubilee steps back, wiping nonexistent sweat from her brow. "I've punched you in the frigging face, like, five different times already. Without even meaning to."
"Maybe you should work on your aim, then," Kitty grumbles in response.
Blocking hits isn't even her reflex; her reflex is to phase, and she's having to repress it. Repress it and replace it.
"That was weak, Kit Kat," Jubes shoots back, unamused. "You need to work on your comebacks." She aims a kick in Kitty's direction, and when it once again goes unblocked, she smirks. "And your reflexes."
Jubilee is undoubtedly the better fighter. She doesn't have much of a handle on her mutation, but it's fair to say that she excels at plain hand-to-hand combat. Kitty notes her every move when they spar. What Jubilee doesn't have in power, she more than makes up for in speed and agility. Kitty's small, too; like Jubes, no matter how hard she trains, she's never going to have the sheer power that others have. The difference is, Kitty doesn't have the technique to make up for that weakness.
It reminds her of her first few weeks in Scott's class, struggling in almost the same way. She never forgot what he taught her—how to break fighting down into an equation—but without the use of her mutation, she's going to need a little extra guidance from somewhere else. Scott's only all there half of the time these days, so he can't help her with this. Kitty considers asking Storm, but doesn't want to give her any more work than she already has. So she keeps quiet for now. It's easy and safe and natural to just not say anything, but she knows that if she wants to go anywhere, this isn't the way to go about it.
As it is, it doesn't take long before the training schedules and classes are reworked. After their return from Alkali Lake, the Professor had tried assigning Logan to Jean's beginner class in a move that everyone later agrees was overly optimistic. Logan loses his patience before long (it takes exactly sixteen days—Kitty knows from overhearing Artie cashing in on a bet) and somehow persuades Storm to take over. That day, Kitty walks into class to find him there, arms crossed, tapping a foot and surveying the students with a frighteningly opaque look in his eye. Things change immediately.
Logan manages to merge Storm's powerless fighting class with mutation specific training, which is good since Scott is bailing on his own class half the time. Eventually the two classes officially become one, and Scott's responsibilities are reduced to overseeing Danger Room sessions. At first, Storm comes into Logan's classes regularly to observe. Kitty suspects that the Professor just sends her to make sure that Logan hasn't murdered any of them yet. Evidently he's satisfied, because after about a week Storm stops coming.
Logan starts teaching his own techniques. A fair amount of them are rooted in martial arts, which Kitty wasn't expecting, but even more surprisingly, a lot of them are individualized. Logan watches the class like a hawk, seeking out weakness and coming up with ways to combat it. This would be helpful if he weren't so obnoxious about it.
Most of the students have a hard time adjusting to Logan's brusque manner and his tendency to push and snap. He handles his class completely differently from both Storm and Scott. He's not afraid to criticize, or even make jokes at the students' expense. Kitty finds this crude and picks a lot of arguments with Logan, surprising even herself.
When she's not bickering with him, Logan barely acknowledges her in class. His demeanor suggests that he finds her mutation useless, which makes Kitty grit her teeth and fight even harder to prove him wrong. He never stops pushing her, even when he's seemingly ignoring her, which is incredibly frustrating. On the days when they're not allowed to use their mutant abilities, it's even worse.
(Because if she's useless with her mutation, what is she without it?)
One day, to Kitty's humiliation, he brings her almost to tears in front of the entire class. She's used to blending in the shadows, hiding in the back of the class; this is new to her and she hates every second. The other students' silence only amplifies her mortification. She wants to leave, just slide through the floor as easily as taking a breath. But Wolverine keeps his eyes locked on hers. His gaze holds her in place.
The rest of class inches by impossibly slowly. Kitty tries to slip away once it's finally over, but Logan catches her again. "Pryde," he calls, as if talking to a disobedient dog, "stay."
She focuses all of her attention on keeping her face stony. "Seriously, there's more?"
"Yes. You have got to work harder, half pint," he says evenly, and it feels more like a scolding than anything. "You have a defensive mutation; you can protect yourself and anyone else. But what happens when you're on the offensive? How the hell are you going to attack anyone?"
Kitty opens her mouth to argue, to push the tears back with forceful words, but Logan cuts her off before she can say anything. "Shut up and listen for once, Pryde. You rely on your mutation too much." He looks at her pointedly, as if challenging her to disagree, and she just swallows because she knows he's right. "That's only going to get you so far. Your mutation's only half the battle; the other half is you. You have to be strong enough that you don't need to use your mutation to fight someone and win. And honestly, kid, right now I can't see that happening."
Kitty's quiet. It's the truth, and she knows it, she's known it for quite a while, but it still hurts to hear it laid out in the open this way.
Logan's eyebrows rise expectantly. "Not gonna argue with me?"
The challenge—at least, what she perceives as a challenge—incenses her all over again. "I'm not the only one," she bites back a little bitterly. "There are other students in this class who don't work as hard as they could. But you push me harder than anyone else." The last sentence comes out in the small voice that she hates more than anything.
"You need it. You've got potential, kid. But if I don't push you, you're never going to reach it."
Kitty's shoes suddenly become fascinating.
Logan sighs. "Look, half pint, I shouldn't have called you out in front of everyone. But I'm not going to apologize for saying what I did. You needed to hear it."
"Maybe," she half-admits. Her fingers twist in the fabric of her pants. "I—" The words come to a halt. All the overconfidence and antagonismthat Wolverine's presence usually brings out in her have ebbed away. She's just left with herself now: quiet, shy Kitty Pryde, the girl who's never been told to 'shut up and listen for once'. She feels drained.
"Tell you what," Logan says, his voice filtering into her consciousness as if she'd just been underwater. "How about you meet me here tomorrow night, around eight, and I'll teach you some techniques I think will help you?"
Kitty gapes at him.
"I don't have all day, half pint. Better say something before I change my mind."
Out of all the professors, Logan would have been the absolute last one she'd have asked to be her mentor. But here he is, offering the help she'd wanted, and here she is, accepting it.
From then on, Kitty has an individual training session with Logan a few times a week. A handful of other students start showing up, too, students that everyone knows are aspiring X-Men; sometimes a couple of them attend, sometimes none of them, but Kitty shows up every single time.
The sessions go interestingly at first. As soon as Kitty walks into the training room for the first class, Logan charges at her without any warning. Stunned, she tries to block him, only to be knocked over easily.
"All right, half pint," he says casually, as if she'd imagined the past few seconds. "Since you're so smart, why don't you tell me what happened there?"
Kitty pushes herself back up to her feet, noting Logan's smirk; he shouldn't be enjoying himself this much. "You rushed me like an insane person."
"Try again," he growls. "Without the sarcasm."
"You're stronger than me. And you had more momentum."
"Exactly. Force, momentum, size. Your opponent almost always will have the advantage over you, in sheer strength or build at least. I don't call you half pint for nothing." Kitty frowns, never amused by anyone calling attention to her short stature. "Instead of facing them head on, you're going to use their strength against them."
He starts slowly, showing her a few basic moves. It's challenging at first, and Kitty has to resist the urge to back talk to disguise her frustration. She makes it through the full hour though, which is good, since Wolverine seems to be having trouble keeping his cool even without being provoked. Kitty catches him grinding his teeth quite a few times when she takes too long to catch on to something. Patience is definitely not his strong suit.
"You know what, half pint?" he says after the hour's over. "Come back Thursday. I don't think we're done here."
It's never easy, and most nights she crawls into bed with both her ego and her body bruised, but it really helps. The feeling of working towards something is like…like she's grabbed onto a ledge to keep herself from falling, and her grip is only getting stronger.
Soon, she'll have the strength to pull herself up and walk away.
Everything else seems easy in comparison.
Exams finish up, their end signaling the transition into summer. The school empties out again like the tide suddenly washing out. It feels like overnight: one day Kitty wakes up to the sun filtering calmly through her window instead of the sounds of the younger kids playing video games or fighting over breakfast. She sits up slowly in bed and thinks about the long, quiet stretches of the past winter, and the even longer stretches that lay ahead. The sunlight drapes hot and mellow over her, the day widening before her like an empty room. Kitty feels a sudden rush of subdued loneliness.
At least she has training with Logan now, something she's really invested in. And this time, Bobby is staying. Kitty is happy that he'll be here with her, even though it makes her feel guilty. She doesn't want him to be unhappy, of course. But the thought of months here without him tastes a little hollow.
She counts his smiles, sometimes. Each time he gives her a genuine one, light flares inside of her and she can't help but return it.
Piotr and Jubilee (possibly the weirdest combination of friends in the mansion) find her on the second day. "Are you ready for summer activities?" Piotr asks. "I volunteered to teach an art class."
"I think I might take it, actually, Pete," Jubilee comments, elbowing him lightheartedly and immediately wincing.
The buzz of conversation trickles in from the surrounding rooms. A little thrown off by her lack of knowledge, Kitty frowns. "Summer activities?"
Jubilee rolls her eyes. "My bad, I forgot. The Professor's going to make an announcement for all you newbies."
Rogue emerges from the kitchen with a piece of toast. "Pete, did you say something about an art class?"
"Back up a minute," Kitty says, but Kurt appears next to her and no one hears.
"I'm most comfortable with painting, but I am willing to cover sculpture as well, if anyone is interested," Piotr is telling Rogue, who nods along. Off to the side, Jubes scowls. "I just want to throw paint balloons," she cuts in. "Pete, will you let me do that?"
"I myself am greatly interested in Impressionism," Kurt remarks to no one in particular, although his statement catches Rogue's attention, leading her to strike up a soft conversation with him. Piotr joins in, leaving Jubilee to alternately roll her eyes and interject sarcastic comments. Kitty just blinks at all of them—she's not much of an art person—until there's a tap on her shoulder. Bobby edges up next to her to watch. "So," he says, "what's going on here?"
"Summer activities. I'm a little lost," Kitty admits. "Do you know anything?"
He shrugs. "Just what I've heard. It's like…mutant summer camp."
"Somehow, art class isn't what I picture when I hear 'mutant summer camp'".
"Who knows what an innocent art class could turn into at this place? I just hope there's basketball or something." Bobby gives her a sidelong glance. "You play any sports, Kit?"
"No. I'm not so good at sports," she admits, before the corner of her mouth lifts into a mischievous smile. "Except for dodgeball."
Bobby pushes her playfully. "That's cheating. No powers."
"It's not cheating. Just…practice?"
The Professor rolls past them then, a faint smile on his lips. "Robert, Katherine, would you join the rest of us outside? And, if you could, kindly alert that crowd," he gestures towards Pete, Rogue, Kurt, and Jubilee, still deep in discussion, "to join us as well."
The still life is more of a challenge than Kitty had counted on. A loaf of bread, all soft rounded lines, sits next to an X-Acto knife, which in turn juts out in front of an ancient, rusted printer. And that's just the side facing her. It's a mess and Kitty has no idea where to start.
"Paint it however you would like," Piotr suggests from the front of the room. "I do not want to set restrictions. If you prefer to work abstractly, translate what you see into color and line. If you prefer realism, paint as realistically as you can. I will be coming around if anyone has questions."
He adjusts a stray apple and steps back, admiring his arrangement. After exchanging preliminary glances with each other, the students turn their attention to the paints before them and begin touching paintbrush to canvas. Only Kitty stays squinting hopelessly at the still life before her.
She'd chosen to do some fun science experiments with Scott, but his presence is unsurprisingly sporadic. To fill in the gaps during her days, she's taken to hanging out in Pete's art class, having not wanted to risk her life participating in whatever blood sport Logan and Storm are coaching. So far, though, art isn't really working for her.
She wishes briefly that the Professor were teaching an activity, too. His probably would have been the kind of thing she'd enjoy: a book club, or a current events discussion, something along those lines. She's aware of how nerdy that sounds. Can she help it if she's inclined towards the nerdier things in life?
"Kitty?" Jubilee prods her with the end of her paintbrush, shaking her out of her thoughts. "You gonna paint something, or just stand there staring at a blank canvas all day?"
Kitty waves her away. "Why don't you focus on that blob you've got going over there?"
With a huff, Jubilee turns back to her easel. "Everyone's a critic," she mutters with a tinge of unwarranted bitterness.
Jubilee hasn't shown any outward signs of change after being abducted by Stryker's soldiers. She's had worse, after all. But Kitty keeps looking, thinking maybe she'll notice something, anything, under the surface. Nobody can be that tough, can they?
"Kitty, you could try drawing a grid first, as I have done," suggests Kurt from her other side. Looking over at his canvas, Kitty is startled to see swirling colors already expanding from a network of precise pencil lines. "Wow, Kurt," she breathes.
"I bet it's hard not being a genius at everything", Jubilee comments casually, voice laden with just the right amount of sarcasm.
Kitty just sighs and picks up her paintbrush.
She shows up to her training session that afternoon with paint in her hair and tucked away in the crevices beneath her jaw and behind her ears. Logan smirks when he sees. "Couldn't phase through a paintbrush?" he asks, too amused for Kitty's liking.
"I was concentrating," she counters defensively.
He gives her a smile that could be either patronizing or fond. Kitty can't tell, and it drives her a little crazy. There's a hint of chuckle in Logan's voice when he suggests, "Why don't we get started."
No one else showed up that day. It's summer break, so naturally no one wants to spend any more time training with Logan than they have to. Only Kitty is that crazy.
"People always say not to fight dirty; it's not honorable or some shit," Logan is saying—a bit too casually, as if trying to hide something he cares about. "But it depends on your opponent. You're probably not going to fight a samurai, so I don't think the 'dirty fighting' rule applies to you. Hell, most of your opponents will probably fight dirty themselves."
"So…are you saying I should bite people?"
"Eh…" Logan's left eye twitches. "If it helps…yeah, why not. No—shut up, kid, I'm actually trying to teach you something here. I'm just saying there's nothing wrong with using a few tricks when you fight. Even the smallest thing can throw someone off and give you the advantage."
Kitty mulls it over. "What kind of tricks?" she asks curiously. She'd honestly rather not bite anyone, but she's not above it if it'll give her the edge in a fight. A real fight—the thought still makes her stomach turn over.
"Well, half pint, you've got a mutation that's basically built for tricks. If you're facing someone who's armed, easy—phase their weapon straight out of their hands. It's just a trick, but it'll put you on a level playing field." He chews an unlit cigar absently; it seems to be a permanent fixture. "You could also phase your opponent halfway through the wall or the floor or something. I'm guessing that'd be hard to get out of."
The idea makes Kitty slightly uneasy, but she might need this someday.
"Of course," he continues, "you could get really sneaky about it. Reach through the ceiling and trip people, stuff like that. You try that on me, though, you're dead. Got it?"
She nods seriously, stifling a smile.
"All right. Last thing." Logan's eye contact turns steady, purposeful. "You're small, and people are going to underestimate you because of it. Take advantage of that."
People do underestimate Kitty. She's used to it; she's always thought they were right, that there was nothing really extraordinary about her. And maybe there isn't, but she's determined to change that. She knows she's small, and she'll never have the advantage over anyone in size (unless she's fighting a toddler—and that conjecture proves she's been spending too much time with Bobby), but she wants to be strong and fast, to surprise people with how capable she is.
"Okay, half pint," Logan says, "give it a try."
The next morning the air is so unusually cool and breezy that Kitty sneaks away and climbs her favorite tree outside. Halfway up, she regrets her decision; she's still sore from her training session yesterday. Even though the moves he'd taught her were fairly simple, Logan had made her run through them over and over, until she could have done them in her sleep. Then, he made her spar with him, freestyle. When the session was finally over, Kitty had been out of breath, her whole body hurting, and Logan hadn't even broken a sweat. She's constantly annoyed by how little their training sessions appear to affect him. She's not sure his heart rate even goes up.
It's really frustrating, if she's honest.
Up in the sturdiest, highest branch, Kitty leans back against the trunk and closes her eyes. Activities will be starting soon. She can just picture it now: Piotr running some kind of painting exercise while Jubilee complains loudly; Logan trying to convince Storm that he's the better coach while her team, in the background, completely schools his; the Professor watching from high above, smiling to himself because he chose to sit this one out. Bobby convinced Rogue yesterday to participate in a soccer game, so they'll be on the field soon, too, lacing up ancient pairs of cleats and bracing themselves for the insanity to come. At least, that's how Kitty sees it.
She opens her eyes and looks upwards. The sky is a flat cloudless expanse: nothing to stare at. For a minute Kitty remembers her old room, glow in the dark starts pasted haphazardly on the ceiling. After her astronomy class in middle school she'd stood on a chair for hours, taking them down and rearranging them until they formed the constellations she'd just learned about. Then any time of day could be her night.
Adaptation.
Kitty exhales slowly. She's sore and tired and the last thing she wants is to spend another afternoon trying to do something completely unnatural to her. It sounds lazy, but she's spent so much time these past weeks stretching herself that she feels loose and worn. It's good for her, and she's glad for it, but today she's just tired.
Today she'll just take a minute, here. Just…a bit…longer…
