FIC: Reborn [Kitty, Kitty/Bobby] PG
- Fandom: X-Men Movieverse
Characters/Pairings: Bobby/Kitty, slight Logan/Marie
Canon: Takes place after X3, after the cure has stopped working. Or,
at least this is my half-hearted attempt at explaining why Rogue is
Word Count: 500
Summary: After days in the infirmary following a particularly
hazardous mission, Kitty reopens her eyes.
Author's Notes: This is meant to be part of something larger, and
oneday it might be. For now, it's a short, hopefully sweet look at
Kitty, her friendship with Rogue, her soon-to-be (maybe)
relationship with Bobby, and...I don't even know, really. Enjoy!
Empty blackness fades to muted color, and Kitty struggles to open
her eyes to the harsh, unfamiliar light. Her chest is tight, and her
breath wedges in her throat as though trying to prevent her heart,
newly beating, from leaping from her body. A harsh cough, three
blinks, and colors become shapes, shapes become lines, lines define
It takes a moment to register the paneled ceiling of the school's
infirmary, gray and blurry and cold. She has been in here once
before, and the thought kicks up pixilated images of bone and blood
from the dust her consciousness. Suddenly she is aware of the
slicing pain in her right leg, the dull throb of her temple. Slowly,
she runs a finger along the smooth, metal table, breathes a quick
sigh of relief that the appendage is still intact.
Someone is talking to her, she doesn't know who. She turns her neck
to look, and chokes back tears at the blinding pain that scrapes
down her spine. Someone's hand is on her forehead, fingers laced
among her knotted mass of hair, keeping her still. Kitty clenches
her jaw and nearly bites through her tongue, but she can feel the
thick fabric of a glove graze her forehead and quickly everything is
clearer, more focused.
Rogue's fingers brush strands of hair from her face while her other
hand remains firm behind Kitty's head. Rogue is saying something,
something maternal and comforting in that elusive southern accent
that reminds Kitty of summer thunderstorms and white picket fences.
Kitty can't quite make out the words, but she can feel Rogue's voice
in the tremble of her fingers, and wonders why she sounds so scared.
Everyone gets hurt during missions sometimes, each of them has at
one point. Kurt has broken an arm, Jubilee a leg, Storm some fragile
part of her spirit, relieved but never fully recovered. War brings
casualties, terror precipitates pain. And the X-Men are, if nothing
else, accustomed to terror.
But Kitty does, somewhere deep inside her, remember that battle,
that tight feeling in her chest and pounding in her ears watching a
murderous Logan race to retrieve Rogue from the clutches of some
captor, knowing that he would not make it in time. Knowing that she
could make it first. She remembers running, phasing, pulling hair
and clenching teeth and noise and blood and a deep, blue sky, but
nothing beyond that.
When her eyes focus, Bobby's face materializes from the watercolor
surroundings in harsh, tense lines. His jaw is sharp, his lips pale,
and Kitty finds wrinkles along his brow and tension in his cheeks
that she has never seen before. He catches her eye and smiles
quickly, but the muscles just above his lip quiver and his breath is
unsteady and drawn.
He says something else, and Kitty does not hear it. She looks
instead beyond his tight smile to the corner of his eyes, where the
beginnings of tears have turned to silver frost.
Thanks for reading! Please comment if you liked it/didn't like
it/want to say hi, or whatever. :)