The Warrior with No Name

By The Odd Little Turtle Named Froggie

(Much Marvel owning. Not me.

Thanks to those who have been following and giving their input. It's a great help! Thanks to the ones who haven't given input but have been following.

I hope I did enough 'showing' instead of 'telling' in this scene…)

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I wrote 'Katya' and not 'Kitty'. That is wrong. I should not have given her an affectionate name. Not in Russian. Her name is Katherine. The Russian equivalent is 'Ykaterina.' I probably should not even call her Kitty.

What is wrong with me? I have never been this way with anyone. With Kitty, I do not know if I am coming or going.

'Kitty,' 'Katherine,' 'Ykaterina,' 'Katya.' It makes no difference. I owe her much.

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The building roared angrily, shook like a leaf from the flashover downstairs. Illyana's mind went blank with fear. It swamped her senses, took her to a place she never wanted to go again. Her scream pierced the small apartment, her throat almost immediately raw from it. Suddenly Piotr was no longer himself, but encased in steel. Her brother, to her, had always been the ultimate knight in shining armor.

His metal hand was cool to the touch as he gently cradled her face. "Illyana."

She had to get her breathing under control. Had to. She would pass out if she didn't.

Calm.

Tranquil.

It was impossible to steady her erratic pulse. Illyana willed herself to remember Wolverine's training, his gruff voice telling her to suck it up, and his proud smile when she succeeded. Damn. Oh. Damn. The spots in front of her eyes were getting annoying. Why this? Why now?

"Illyana Nikolievna." She focused on the size of Piotr's hand. It engulfed her face, but he held her tenderly. He'd always been gentle with her, always treated her like she was a delicate flower, a little treasure that was only his. Even when he had gone into a shell after Zilya had died and become irritatingly grumpy.

One breath and exhale. Another breath and exhale. Piotr couldn't help her breathe anymore. He couldn't in his armored state. She was on her own. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Slowly, calmly. Illyana thought back to when they were children and Piotr had transformed to save her from the neighbor's tractor. The thought brought her comfort as Piotr ushered her to the window.

"Little Snowflake." Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. She thought back when Uncle Yuri's house caught fire… Fire. Cousin Larisa was in a fire, and Piotr saved her. Thinking of the fire hadn't helped.

Breathe. Find the inner—

Too late, her powers activated of their own accord, and Illyana found herself gasping for air on the other side of the window looking back at her astonished brother. The heavy smell of smoke and the heat the old building radiated surprised her. She didn't know things burned this hot naturally. The chilly April night gave her some respite. A shrill voice deadened her fear entirely. Someone needed help and Wolverine's training finally kicked in.

First Logan's focus and meditation techniques were there calming her, and then his four primary rules came to mind. Rule Number One: Protect yourself. Don't be a liability to your teammates. Rule Number Two: Protect your teammates. Don't let your teammates be your liability. Rule Number Three: Protect those who need protecting. You can tell the ones that don't need protecting by the fact that they are usually the ones trying to kill you. Rule Number Four: Don't take anyone's shit.

"Somebody please help me!" a frightened female voice cried out. Illyana willed herself calm and peered around thinking of her sensei, taking in the smoke and fire infested building. The woman was a flight below her, holding her child to her breast, looking terrified. Smoke billowed out of the window. The young Russian didn't hesitate and surged down the fire escape.

"Come with me," she told the woman when she reached her, grabbing her arm, tugging a little to get the woman's attention. The woman and child were choking on the smoke from their apartment. She appeared disoriented, dirty from the ash, her brown eyes glazed in fear. The child's face was sooty and tear-streaked. Illyana couldn't get through to her and pulled her into a golden portal. Once in the magical place for which the young mutant didn't have a name, the woman looked around, blinking. She gasped. The air was clean and the sky was hued red as three suns set. A unicorn whinnied in the distance and her eyes widened before Illyana activated another disk and pulled her through.

They were outside the burning building on Pelham Parkway, across the street. The toddler at the woman's chest was the first to speak. "Magic."

The woman nodded, her fingers tight around Illyana's arm. "Yes, that was magic. We never would have gotten out alive."

Illyana nodded, told her to get back and call the fire department. The young mutant girl took a step closer to the building. Piotr needed her. She could do this. She took a breath, quelling her fears. Piotr wasn't the only one who needed her, but he took priority in her mind.

Sensing what Illyana was going to do, Piotr's female neighbor balked. "You're going back in there?"

"Da." Illyana's blue eyes shown brightly with determination. "My brother. He's up there." She needed to concentrate, go back in and get him out. Back before the Russian government had declared her brother a traitor to the Nodina for leaving and joining the X-men, she'd witnessed him go into a fire. He had come home for a visit to tell Mama and Papa and Illyana about his life and make wedding arrangements. His steel covered flesh had become too hot to touch, and Papa had to rinse him off with a bucket of water before he could change back. The authorities had taken him to prison before he had had a chance. Illyana didn't know what would happen if his body became superheated like the building. Not wanting to risk the possibility of her brother melting or something equally disastrous, she called on another disk and reappeared back on the fire escape at Piotr's apartment window. The window was opened and smoke billowed out. Everything in the living room was on fire. She called for him, but there was no answer.

Someone else cried out above her. Still worried for her brother, she was relieved when she saw his shiny form leap across alley from the building next door. She went to work doing all she could to help the others in the building. When half of the wall collapsed, she used her disk to teleport it away to the place for which she had no name. That's when the flames became more manageable for the fire department.

She met her brother in the street below.

"Have you seen Mrs. Brogan?" he asked quietly, still in his changeling form. She shook her head in the negative. Her brother was always enigmatic, but in his changeling form, she could not differentiate between any of his expressions or tone of voice. Piotr and the old woman had been close; she had basically adopted him as her son after her husband died, so Illyana assumed he was worried about her. Not for the first time, Illyana regretted having been rude to the woman earlier that day. What if she hadn't gotten out? Before anything more could be said on the subject, Illyana saw Spiderman and Piotr sent her to get Mikhail. Calling a disk, she emerged and snagged the poor animal who was crying with all her might.

"Hush, now, Mikhail, you're safe." Illyana grabbed up Piotr's emergency bag, hoping he remembered to add her clothing to it too, and called another portal.

He took the bag as soon as she arrived and ducked down an alley away from the crowded area, the news van, the fire trucks and ambulances. When he returned a few minutes later, he was fully clothed and looking human, though his features sagged with exhaustion, his blue eyes watching the crowd warily. Illyana's heart clenched. His broad shoulders looked as though they held the weight of the world.

Piotr did not want to risk the news crew getting him in the buff, so had foregone changing underwear. He seriously regretted it as he walked back to Spiderman who was talking with the fireman in charge and his sister. The undergarment was wet and uncomfortable from the hosing he requested of the fire fighters. His steel form had been too hot after searching Mrs. Brogan's apartment. He had brought the body out to them, but did not know whose it was. He hoped by everything he held holy that it was whoever had started the fire and not Evie Brogan. Piotr did not know how he would handle that.

"Piotr Rasputin," he told Spiderman, and they shook hands, Spiderman's tattered gloves rough against the palm of his hand. Both grips were strong, judging each other as only men can do. "I assumed earlier that Kitty sent you."

"She did." Spiderman looked away, at the sixteen body bags lying on the ground nearby. "That body you got from that first apartment. Was that the woman I was supposed to protect?" He sounded far away, more muffled through his mask.

The big Russian man ran a hand through his hair as Illyana grasped his other hand tightly. She looked up at him fearfully. He let out a puff of breath and eyed Spiderman crossly. "I do not know. The body wasn't recognizable." He didn't want to admit he found it in Mrs. Brogan's apartment and that Mrs. Brogan wasn't standing outside with them. He felt the nauseating sinking of dispair. Winding his large arm around his sister's shoulders, he gazed down at her. She should not have to witness anything like this. She had already witnessed much in her young life. "What do you want to do, Snowflake? Find a hotel for the night?"

"Call Kitty," Spiderman said suddenly. "She'll want to know what happened. I'll give her my input in the morning. Her shift should be ending at Riff's right about now."

Piotr nodded, not arguing, dug his secondary phone from the bag, a black knife of jealousy cutting into his belly when Spiderman rattled off Kitty's cell phone number with ease. He wondered if the two were more than friends. It shouldn't have mattered. But it did. He didn't know why. Kitty was his friend. She sent Spiderman to investigate. That alone told him she cared. He refused to dwell on the black shadow shifting around his heart, his mind, and hit the call button on the phone. And he exhaled air he didn't realize he'd been holding when he heard her low, silvery voice.

"Kitty? It's late, but I—I am I need of assistance."

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(More on the way…)