Note: I re-edited a bit, corrected a few mistakes. Thanks for reading.
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Chapter 4: Ghosts, sins, lies
Next day promised to be an excellent one. In the morning much to the delight of Kitty's aunt, Lance volunteered to shovel the snow away that had fallen during the night on the pavements and lawns, covering the hedges with snowcaps. When he was sure no one could see him he used his powers a bit to loosen the contiguous blanket of snow around him. It was fun to experiment with his powers, sending so slight, precise and gentle tremors through the ground that were almost imperceptible. Meanwhile Kitty and her aunt were bustling about in the kitchen, baking cookies which were waiting for him steamingly, sweet-scentedly when he finally came in with red nipped fingers and cheeks. Kitty kissed him, sharing her warmth and taste with him.
After lunch they decided to take a walk. The centre of the town showed somewhat sad spectacle as the white snow transformed into brownish slush. They were strolling along hidden streets towards the Northbrook Plaza that were multiplying the whiteness with its reflective glasses.
"Where shall we go?" Lance asked, his hands in his pocket. Farther away, two homeless men were rummaging in the dustbins clothed in filthy raincoat and knitted cap, half of their body disappeared among the spilled litter.
Moving closer to Lance, Kitty threaded her arm through the hook of his elbow, biting her lips. "Well, in fact, I have a place that I'm curious about but it won't thrill you…"
"Oh, come on, it can't be worse than the skating rink," he pressed her, curling his lips.
"Umm…" she hummed, unsurely. She was about to speak when someone called out behind them.
"Alvers, watch this!" croaked a voice.
Both of them turned around in line, much surprised. It wasn't Lance who was called for, only one of the tramps tossed up his head and reeled towards the other, dragging a large, shabby bag with him. They started conferring above a discarded radio, which was lying with wrecked edges on the snow.
Lance turned back sharply, striking up a quick speed. "Don't you come?" he wondered, looking back at her as Kitty lingered behind. Jolted out of her staring, she paced after him, trying to adapt to his long steps.
There was a long, heavy silence fallen between them, she could feel Lance's attempt to behave as if no interruption had happened. She wasn't willing to that.
"Lance…," she spoke up, immediately aware of his body tensing up. A dark frown touched his face. "Wasn't he called Alvers?"
He was quiet for a second before shrugging nonchalantly. "I guess so."
Kitty didn't know how to say what could make him angry. "Then… like… can't he be…?" She was cut short as he snapped.
"What?!"
"Maybe your relative," she blurted out. Lance's eyes flared up.
"Do you think I'm the only Alvers in the world? Or because he's a filthy tramp he must be my relative?"
"No… like… I didn't mean it," she protested. "But you know, like, this is only Northbrook."
"And? If he is who the hell cares?" he scowled at her.
"Okay, sorry, that was just a guessing, forget it," she dismissed the conversation with a wave of hand.
For what seemed forever, they were strolling down the streets in complete silence. One of them unwilling to worsen the situation with more words, the other still in huff. Glittering snowflakes were drizzling down on their heads from the overloaded branches of wayside trees. Everything was calm, save for their own souls. Lance took a deep breath, clearing his throat.
"So what's the place you wanna visit?" he asked, running a hand through his hair. Kitty seemed to sink into deeper trouble.
"I… umm… your orphanage…" she uttered quietly. Lance gaped with disbelief.
"No way! Why would I, why would you?"
"I… Lance," she sighed, suddenly looking desperate. She stopped still. "I so wanna get involved into your life. I wouldn't feel you're inclined to let me get in."
"That's… that's not true," he disclaimed, nevertheless unable to meet her gaze.
"It is. How could I be honest to you if you ain't honest to me? I don't even know anything about you."
"You're the part of my present, Kitty, you don't need my past to know me better. Hell, you'd better know nothing about that."
"You don't get the picture," she shook her head sadly. "I do need it 'cause it's built you up, influenced and formed your personality. If I'd like to know you, understand you I'm gonna need to know what had happened to you before we met. I'm not gonna condemn you, nor put you wise. There's no use to hide behind walls and silence."
Lance tousled his hair with a nervous movement. Deep inside he was aware of the truth in her words. "Okay, we can walk there if you want it so much but it's just an ugly filthy building in a filthy district. Nothing special."
Kitty sighed heavily. "Showing me the orphanage isn't necessary either but it could help you to open up. If you don't wanna lead me there, no problem. Just talk to me sometimes."
"Not much to say," Lance mumbled, busy examining the street around them, though actually seeing nothing. Kitty reached out for his wrist, stepping closer to him. He still avoided her eyes, when spoke up, voice barely above a whisper. "I don't wanna scare you." It wasn't what he planned to say. I don't wanna lose you.
Kitty laughed with the less hint of joy. "Oh Lance, scare me? Come on! You can't even believe that!" There was a soft, amused light in her eyes. "Gosh, if I'd like to know something about you, I better get a private detective."
"The police will do," Lance moaned, nearly despite himself. Kitty looked surprised.
"The police? You mean… you were arrested?"
"Kinda… uh," he released a troubled breath. He seemed to shrink as his shoulders fell. "Okay, maybe I had to come back here with you to face my damn past. Or rather, to show it to you. In other case, I might never have told anything about it and that's unfair." He was speaking rather to himself than Kitty, his eyes faraway and lost and somehow resigned. "You should know it; I don't wanna lie or keep things back from you anymore. It's a shame. You must see me in my true colours and judge me as I deserve it." And then leave me.
"Oh, dear," she stroked his jawline cursorily before wrapping her arms around his. Her lips curling into a loving, forbearing smile, she whispered. "Do you really think you could say something so bad that I'd leave you?"
"Something? Not. But a bunch of little bad things, yes. Pretty enough for you to turn my sorry ass out of doors." he started off at random. Kitty followed him without asking where they were going to.
"Let me decide this by myself," her voice was gentle but peremptory at the same time. "So what about the police?"
"Not much. I was arrested once or twice but since I was under age and already child in care they let me out of the lock-up after a few days. I guess they intended to let the orphanage bother with me. Huhh, and they did," he snorted, recalling all those punishments he got after being released. "Anyway, I do have records."
"What did you commit?"
"Uhh, mostly vandalism," he shrugged.
"Like painting the lockers red?" Kitty chuckled shortly, earning a faint smile from him.
"Kinda," he bowed his head, locks hiding his eyes. "Of course, not all my little acts earned me a jail. I committed a lot of fool things here. Anything I could get money for. Hole-and-corner deals, sometimes stealing, illegal streetfights, car races and wagers."
"Illegal streetfights?" she echoed in horror.
"Yeah, kinda box-matches without gear."
"And you were the one who fought? But… how old were you?" stunned, her face lost its colour. Lance, no matter how blameworthy it was, couldn't help but feel a tinge of warmth seeing her eyes filled with concern. He shrugged airily, not planning to make her more concerned.
"Umm, fifteen? I was quite tall for my age, no one cared that I was under age," touching his chin, he went on. "Well, I have to admit I always cheated a bit. When my opponent was about to deliver a punch, I sent a slight tremor through the ground right under his feet, just enough strong for him to lose his balance thus I could knock him out. My pals, meanwhile, used to place oodles of money on me, so with my winnings it was enough for a while."
Kitty knitted her brows, feeling a cold shiver run down her spine. "But you couldn't win like this always!"
"Umm, well…" running a hand through his hair, he broke into a nervous laugh. "Honestly, no, I couldn't. Of course, sometimes I was beaten hard. No big deal."
"Holy God…" Kitty took his hand, grasping as if never wanted to release again. "No big deal, yeah? Oh, my dear fool."
"Yes I was," he agreed, fixing his eyes on her face for the first time. "You can think poorly of me, Kitty, cuz I was no good at all but being always in shortage of dough didn't help it and I figured I shouldn't let myself be choosy. I know it's no excuse though."
Kitty was quiet. Always having lived a life of ease, she tried to imagine a life where getting a D on a pop quiz was the last problem on a long list which started with obtaining enough money for food and growing accustomed to the occasional lack of heating. As a young girl she never thought with those children in the poor side of Northbrook. Not in the least out of indifference. She simply wasn't aware of their existence. She had a middle class life with middle class neighbours, friends and relatives; little did she know about the likes of Lance Alvers living in a crowded orphanage and sleeping with a bunch of other troublesome boys in a room. And now subsequently Kitty Pryde of today scorned the blind herself of that time, feeling ashamed. Deep inside, however, she knew she should condemn him according to her education and she was sure in the past she would have done it but now she wasn't the same Kitty Pryde.
Lance misunderstood her silence and locked himself away. And she felt it. It could have been so easy to utter those words loudly that were lingering inside her with a tickling sensation for days, weeks or months but it may have been too early. And still it hurt having them stuck in.
"I… I wish I could…" she murmured without knowing what she was exactly yearning for. Lance looked at her. And somehow simply gazing at each other made him understand her without the need for more words.
Soon they were wandering in narrow, dark streets where the snow wasn't shoveled away and covered the pavements with its grey mass. Lance's steps seemed to be purposive and she suspected they were approaching his orphanage. Here the houses were smaller and shady, occupying narrow building lots, surrounded by untidy courtyards. Deserted streets crossed each other under blind street lamps with shattered lampshades. It was already getting dark, heavy clouds covered the skies menacingly.
"Weren't you scared here?" Kitty asked glancing around suspiciously at the huge branchy shrubs. Lance cracked a bitter laugh.
"I guess it was me, Kitty-cat, who should have been feared here."
On one point Lance crossed the road and headed towards a strikingly, and compared to its surroundings, unusually large courtyard behind ironbar fences. An army of clumsy snowmen was facing a wide, shabby looking building with lattice windows and dirty walls and also visible to the naked eye there were cracks and holes kicked in the plaster among discoloured graffitis. A single trace of a car indicated the crumbled pathway that led to the house, a span wide long split could be seen through the blanket of snow that disfigured the worn, here and there visible flagstones. All in all it was a poor spectacle.
"Welcome to the wrong side of the tracks. This is the other face of Northbrook, a disgraceful blot where I belong to." Lance widened his arms as he presented the place of his childhood. Kitty scowled.
"Who cares where you did belong to? Cause I don't." She stepped to the fences, peeking into the courtyard. He moved next to her, fingers twining round the ironbars. His face distant and full of memories.
Spying an old spoiled car which could have thanked him among others for its bad condition, he snorted. "Oh dammit, Bakers still working here kicking asses?"
Kitty gave him a gloomy glare. "He assaulted you kids?"
Lance fell into a short, pondering silence. "Not that much as we abused each other," he said finally with a sneer. "I guess you can easily find out who is responsible for that pretty crack across the track," he added, snickering. Kitty shook her head with mock disapproval at the sight of his proud face.
"And… like, how old were you when… you know…" she faltered, feeling uneasy. Lance cocked his brows.
"When I got here?" his voice was as neutral as if he was speaking of someone else. Shrugging, he responded, "I don't know. About four."
"So young?" she gasped, suddenly growing very sad though she was careful not to show pity for him. "And what happened to your parents?"
"Who knows?" he huffed, his voice becoming lower.
"You don't know?"
"Well, honestly, I don't care! Why would I? It's not as if I was the one who abandoned them."
"Abandoned? I thought they died or something," she squeaked.
"No."
"So they still alive?" she mused. Lance pushed himself away from the fence and started to walk off.
"Who knows? But you shouldn't feel sorry for me. I wasn't the only one," he pointed to the line of windows. Kitty followed him, sensing his reluctance to talk about it thus she decided to keep her questions for herself though she was eager to ask so many things.
"Hey, I know where we are," she said after a few minutes' silent walk as they reached a nice avenue. "Here was my ballet-school."
"What?" Lance laughed. "How is that? You used to study ballet, love dancing and nonetheless were that lame in gym?"
"Heeey," she slapped him playfully on the arm, trying to show grudge. "I wasn't that bad."
"No offense, baby, but you were," he pulled her close with a naughty smile and kissed her lovingly.
Lance was actually in bad mood and he couldn't bring up a reason for it. His head seemed to be a crowded place lately, and foggy. Thoughts and memories were attacking his mind in bulk, each trying to tear him apart. Hell. Here he had a few days to enjoy his life with Kitty and he had nothing else in mind than the usual crap. Figures.
Kitty suggested watching a movie after late lunch and Lance agreed. Truth be told, he was hoping to distract his thoughts by focusing on such a simple and light case as a film.
It didn't work. At about the tenth minute of the film he realized he had lost the thread to understand what was going on on the screen and it was far from being capable to hold his attention.
"Hey, you sleeping?" Kitty nudged him suddenly, when everyone except for him burst out laughing. Lance, stirred out of his brooding, tossed his head.
"No… yes," he smirked. "I couldn't sleep a wink at night since you were snoring so loudly."
"Oooh, you're gonna be punched for it," Kitty chuckled, boxing his arms softly. He leaned closer, whispering into her ear hoarsely, his grin obvious.
"I can't wait for that…"
Kitty turned her face towards him and their lips locked affectionately. In fact, when they had gone to bed last night it really took him much effort to fall asleep for he minded so desperately not to touch her under the blanket. Having her breathing peacefully so near to him, eyes closed, bangs falling in her forehead, lips slightly parted, she was so beautiful, so pure and so far from what he'd ever had lying next to him that it almost hurt; he'd felt the temptation torturing him.
Panting, Kitty sighed against his lips, giggling, "Oh, movies, oh blessed darkness."
Before Lance could answer, an ever so upset voice interrupted. "Would you two lovebirds stop making out in front of me?"
Kitty reeled back, blushing while Lance tryed to shrink to his smallest form by sinking back in his seat. Normally he wouldn't have cared a rap but this time was different. He recognized the voice. The voice from the past, the voice of a boy he didn't feel like meeting again. It was Pete, he was dead sure, his former so-called friend or better to say partner in crime.
It was an additional punch in his guts. No matter how hard he wished to hide from his past it always hit upon him in the end. He was reminded of his failures in the worst way. There was nothing in the world he wanted less than to introduce those two jerks to Kitty.
He noticed the film had ended only because his mind was working exactly on the problem how to disappear from his buddy's eyes when the lights were going to be switched on. Eventually he preferred to stay with face buried in his hands as the audience filed out, oblivious of Kitty's surprised look. He stole a glance at the retrieving backs and caught sight not only of Pete but his other mate, Griff. Oh, God, don't let me run into them again, he begged, leaning his head back. Sighing, he flashed a shaky smile at Kitty and slowly, cautiously followed her outside.
