Disclaimer: Ho, hum, this again? In case my previous disclaimers have not made it abundantly clear, I do NOT own the X-men, their likenesses or their actual actions. This is all a very nice figment of my imagination.

Author's Note: Yes, I know it's been a very long time since I updated this fic….I'm sorry, writers block hid the bloody chapter from me. I'm ashamed. I'll shoot myself now.

Chance & Circumstance

Sometimes all that's left is to follow your instincts. To believe that gut reaction that says "All is nae right with the world". In those cases, she always tried to look out for those she knew. Her friends, her family, even those she hadn't seen in some time.

This was one of those times.

It wasn't obvious, looking upon the scene, but one of her dearest friends had taken a blow to the heart. A deep, lingering wound. How could she tell?

Scents on the breeze.

Here at the wedding reception, it wasn't exactly easy to sort them out. Nervousness, desire, ecstatic energy, that fear of "should I ask her to dance?" all the common place things. And then…had come the bitter tang of deepest despair. A despair that had no place in the gay surroundings.

It had felt like a slow motion horror film as Rahne turned to find the source, only to have Kitty Pryde, once a team mate, and always a friend, fall slowly through the ground, tears streaming down her face. The poignant vision of champagne silk enwrapping the lamenting ghost was not lost on her, although no one else seemed to notice. Or care.

Even as she watched, the man whom had been dancing with Kitty, another friend, another team mate, Kurt…turned with a smile on his face. Perhaps it was real. Judging by his scent, it wasn't…but it was also obvious he wasn't going to do anything about the girl who had fell through the earth.

The stupid git probably thought he was being noble or some such by carrying on with the party. She have time to decipher the aromas of aborted desire and despair from him, Kitty needed her, as she knew all to well what such a pained expression on that girl's face could lead to.

With a soft cry that was half-whine half-snarl, she headed to the mansion, there to access the lower levels.

What do you do when the world has been pulled out from under you? He asked himself, desperately holding on to the feeling of that kiss.

The answer was there as always. Fulfill your duty, smile though it hurts, practice hard enough to make it hurt later.

And right now….his duty was to the wedding reception. After all, he had been the priest to give the rites. Despite the fact his heart had followed Kitty down into the stone, despite the fact that his smile felt like ground glass…

It was then he felt the light, compassionate, burning touch of a telepath he knew well. "It's alright Kurt, she's a child, a bit over whelmed by what she can't commit to or understand. Just let it go" Jean said in his ear.

Trust a telepath to twist the knife while trying to be consoling.

Trust her to be…right.

He'd…gone too far. Overstepped the bounds of friendship…and now he'd lost her.

It wasn't long before he was safely ensconced at refreshment table, drinking more alcohol than he had in years…and certainly more than was wise.

Kitty shivered against the cool stone wall and whimpered. Her head was on fire, pain arcing through her synapses, but at least she'd managed to become solid again. "Why? Why? Why?" she asked the silent walls.

It had been beautiful. Wonderful. A dream come true almost. The world had almost seemed to stop in it's tracks while she was lost in the dance with him.

Maybe that's what it was.

She'd been happy.

And the world couldn't have that.

…but she'd be damned if she'd roll over and give up down here.

It took an hour's solid concentration to crawl, slowly, back up through the stone to the lowest level of the mansion. An hour, when it should have taken five minutes, tops, airwalking.

And worse, she'd lost control. Again. Or maybe she'd never had it in the first place. The lovely dress hung in shreds as it stubbornly became unphased through the trip and left itself in the hearts of the stone she crept through. And it wasn't just the dress. She could every scrape and scratch as, like the dress, her skin had become solid.

Plus the pain in her head only grew worse with each torturous inch.

Perversely, it served to cut through the shroud of depression and truly piss her off. It was her body. HERS. It should behave! Shouldn't it? But, like always, anger was only a momentary distraction.

How long would it take to get control back?

Would Kurt wait for her?

Laying on the floor in an old lab, Katherine Pryde laughed until she cried. She knew the answer to that question…it was no. No one waited on little old her. Ever. She'd always muddled through. They'd always been glad to see her when she came back, but life went on.

And, she couldn't blame them. Not in the least. Life was short in the X-men, so you had to live when you could.

Life was so very, very short.

Perhaps it was shock, perhaps it was just exhaustion, but she could feel the world spinning her out, pulling her apart, making her little more than a living ghost. So much worse than after the Marauders…and she felt so much older. The will to fight, keep fighting…just wasn't there.

So, the question was…did she let life make her a ghost, just to dissipate…or did she take it into her own hands now while she could?

"Here? Nae, she still went down" Rahne sighed and took the elevator down again. How far had Kitty fallen?

The slight scent that Kitty gave off when phased was pooled on the cool tile floor through almost all the sub-levels so far. She said almost because she only had one more floor to check. Then she'd have to find a way down into the Morlock tunnels themselves.

The elevator chimed softly and the wolf-girl stepped out. The scent was here…but also much stronger just down the hall. She grinned happily, she'd found her!

It was a matter of moments before she reached the door and flung it open, and the scene that met her eyes wiped the grin from Rahne's face. "Gel…what have ye doun?" she whispered.

Kitty raised hollow, haunted eyes to see her old friend, and she tried to smile. "Nothing yet…just filled the syringe…and then I phased again…I can't go solid…." And to her shame…she started crying again.

"Ach…gel…shush…listen te me, calm, it'll be aright, I promise ye" she moved swiftly across the room to squat by Katherine, knowing it was futile to hug her, but trying anyway.

"It's not alright Rahne…I just can't do this again. There's nothing worth it…"

"Donnae be such a stupid git" Rahne snapped "Yer worth it, an I'm goin te make sure ye donnae do aught regrettable."

"I'm sorry…."

"I know gel, come on, let's get ye te yer room and gather that wee lizard o' yers. Yer comin te Muir. Ye donnae have a choice"

It's like a whirlwind had swept in through shuttered windows, sweeping her away, just to strap her safely into a jet with 'Heed curled in her lap and a bag by her feet.

Rahne was different from the girl she remembered, no doubt the death of her adopted mom and running the Muir facility had seen to that. She hadn't been able to get a word in edge wise…and even more importantly, she hadn't been able to say no.

So here she was, off to the place she could call home as long as she needed.

Maybe, just maybe there was a God still looking out for her.

Kurt sighed and knocked tiredly on Kitty's door. The reception was over, although the party would no doubt continue in several private venues. "Katzchen? Please…I want to apologize…" he called through the door.

He…didn't know what else to do. There was a pain in his chest where his heart should be, his lungs were full of iced glass, and that found him here, leaning against a closed door.

He couldn't hear her inside. Was she alright? Was she hurt? She'd looked tired before the dance…in a it of worry, he turned the knob, finding that the door was not locked, and the room beyond was not occupied.

There was a note laid carefully on the neatly made bed, and with a sense of dread he found himself reaching to pick it up.

It was…short.

And it was for him.

From Kitty.

"I'm sorry Kurt. I have to leave"

That's' all that was scrawled on the small sheet of paper that numbly fluttered from Kurt's hand. He'd well and truly lost her. With a strangled sob, he sat on her bed and then found himself curled among the sheets that still held her scent.

She was gone…