A.N.: Hey guys! Sorry this one is a little late, it was my mum's birthday today so I was pretty busy celebrating! Back again with another chapter- quite short but, again, it was the best place to break it up and other chapters are quite long. One of the scenes is shamelessly inspired by one of my favourite parts of 'Jane Eyre.'

Have a great day and I hope you enjoy!

And you don't know what you've got until it's gone.
And you don't know who to love until you're lost.
And you don't know how to feel until the moment's passed.
I wish you'd live like you're made of glass.

-Amber Run, '5AM'.

CHAPTER FOUR

X.x.X.

He finds you crying one day, leaving a bathroom. Some days you think you can handle this world but then you'll remember something or think of something Blink or Sunspot would like and it sets you off all over again.

"Do you miss it?" he adds you, and you hastily wipe at your eyes. However there's little point in trying to hide it- it's the dirty truth you've had to keep to yourself. Why should you miss that desolate future? Really, you have no reason to. But it's the future you know- the one with your memories and your friends and Bobby.

Hesitantly, you nod, then explain. "I miss knowing where I stood, I miss my friends." You cock your head at him, remembering how he would have joked about with Sunspot, or trained with Warpath. "You would have liked them," you add sadly.

"Bobby?" he asks, and again you nod. Peter pauses, and takes your hands in his. "Kitty, despite everything….if I could, I'd send you back. If it was what you really wanted, I'd send you back."

You stare at his kind face, and not for the first time you wish you could love him. You stand on your tiptoes and kiss him on the cheek, feeling a weight taken off your shoulders because before now you thought it wasn't okay to miss that future. "Thank you."

X.x.X

"Did we ever…" he asks and you shake your head.

"No. I was with Bobby. And even when I wasn't at first, I was too hung up on him. We were just friends."

Peter nods at this, like this is something he was used to. "Did I ever tell you?" he asks and you don't have to hear the rest of that question. You're not sure you want to or could handle it.

"No, you never told me," you tell him. After a moment's pause you speak again. "Maybe you didn't," you suggest almost hopefully, "in that future."

Peter gives you a half smile. "Nah. I did."

"How can you be so sure?" you ask curiously. "This future was basically a complete paradox."

Peter shrugs, but you can tell by the intensity in his eyes he isn't kidding around with what he says next. "There will never be a universe where I don't love you."

You're selfish. You wish he wouldn't say things like that. Because you don't love him the way he loves you, wholeheartedly, truly and without fail, no matter how much you hurt him. You're undeserving of his dedication but you don't push him away because it's nice to be loved like that. Bobby never loved you with his whole being, unconditionally. You would tell yourself it was because of how you lived- with others, constantly on the run, forever in danger. You were always dealing with the grief you all had faced that he couldn't open himself up like that. But part of you wondered- a selfish, bad part of you- if Rogue was still alive, would Bobby be with you?

You got your answer in this future.

X.x.X

It's the weekend and you're drowning in papers and homework to mark. You enjoy the solidarity and regularity of it, though, no room for any other thought in your head. You're taking a break in the kitchen, talking to some of the kids and it is times like these you're grateful for this future, because these kids will have a future.

You hear a car pull up- nothing unusual, it would seem that Xavier's School For Gifted Youngsters is as busy as it ever was when you were a student. The front door opens and a few minutes later Peter pops his head through the kitchen door. "Hey, Kitty," he beckons, and you join him at the door. While things with Peter have been weird and difficult for you both, with neither of you quite sure where you stand with the other, he's the only one you can turn to. "Something arrived for you today, it's waiting at the door." You look at him oddly and shake your head.

"I didn't order anything. I swear, if it's one of the kids ordering pizza again-" you stop in your tracks when you see what's waiting for you just inside the door. Taller, older, and a weekend bag slung over his shoulder-

"Jones?" you gasp, coming to a halt. He peers owlishly at you from behind his glasses and examines you from head to toe, and you feel self-conscious that he's able to tell about your situation. Finally he breaks into a grin and opens his arms. "Hey trouble."

You go flying into his arms and you never want to let go.

As one should when back with a best friend-you got roaring drunk.

Stupid, probably, and irresponsible, definitely, but when had you had the chance to do either?

You both stumble back into the Mansion as quietly as you possibly can, and Jones heads straight to the kitchen, staggering his way there. You squint at the stairs because suddenly god they're so big and there's so many and you're only tiny, can you even manage them? You've braved it and have managed to get up the first set when you run into a solid wall.

But the wall is warm. And comfy. And has abs.

You stumble back a step and steady hands grip your forearms to keep you from tumbling backwards down the stairs. "Peter," you sigh and he lets you go.

"Kitty," he greets.

"I was-" you both start at the same time, and he laughs awkwardly.

"I was just at a bar with Jones," you blurt out and he nods.

"I know. I was just headed down to the couch." He yawns and shuffles his feet. "Did you…" he starts, "did you have a good time?"

You smile at him. "Yeah, it was great. I missed him. It was nice to be…normal. For things to not be weird." And it's true. Everyone here either thinks you're crazy, is treating you like you're made of glass- whether they know what's happening or not. Jones came home from College for the weekend as Peter thought it would help you, he said, and he was right. Jones- sweet, pragmatic Jones- had listened to you ramble about your love life and what had happened- you didn't go into too much detail about that future, this was a celebration after all- with a quiet concentration, and then told it to you straight, or as straight as he could when drunk.

"Good. That's…that's good," he agrees. You bite your lip and take a hesitant step towards him.

"Peter, thank you. It…it meant a lot. Everything you've done means a lot. I know it's not what you want or what you deserve and I know I'm selfish and indecisive, but I'm working on it. I'm trying," you spill and he stares at you, seemingly indifferently until he reaches and tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

"Goodnight, my K-" he's interrupted by Jones banging something in the kitchen and cuts off abruptly. Peter pulls back and shifts past you and into the living room, leaving you with no option but to continue up the stairs and begin again tomorrow.