The Silence Gets Us Nowhere
by ALC Punk!

::You tell me you don't love me::

"I'm sorry, Pete. I just...." Kitty turned away and sighed. "Being with Rigby, it reminded me of life. And I realised that I-I don't love you."

He made a wordless noise, and she tried not to cry, knowing it would hurt less now than if she let it go on. "I can't keep stringing you along, Pete. It isn't fair to either of us."

"I guess it was all for nothing, then."

She looked over at him, tried to smile. "You taught me I was beautiful. That wasn't nothing."

"I'll just go, should I."

"That would be best, yes."

He studied her for a moment, his eyes almost frozen now. "I hope you had fun."

"I did, yes."

"Good." Without saying anything else, he whirled and stalked out.

She wished he'd slammed the door. Anger would have been better than the frozen pain in his eyes. She closed her eyes and slowly sank onto her bed. "I'm sorry, Pete."

::Over a cup of coffee::

Kitty Pryde sighed happily as she sipped the columbian coffee. Moira had tried to out-fox them all again, by buying no coffee. But Meggan had flown back over to the mainland and bought the good stuff.

Of course, with the shifts happening, it was highly possible this Meggan didn't even belong to Kitty's universe. She didn't mind, though. Coffee was coffee.

She wistfully wondered where Pete was. He'd left several weeks ago, lost. Had she broken his heart? Possibly. Somehow, she didn't think it would take him long to bounce back, though.

And, really, she was much happier with Kurt. For one thing, he was a lot snugglier.

::And I just have to look away::

"Don't do this."

The whisper hurt, but he couldn't back down. Things had gone too far. It was like back in his college days all over again. Why had he forgotten?

Don't let anyone in. Don't love. It hurts too much.

"Did you fuck him?"

"I can't believe you could even ask that."

"Hurts, doesn't it."

"Yes."

He smiled slightly. "Good."

"Pete--"

"No." He turned from her, "I'm packing in a bit. I'm sure Wagner can find me transport. He'll be happy with me gone."

"I..."

"Goodbye."

He heard her stifle a sob, but didn't turn as he opened the door. "Y'know, Pryde, your problem is that you can't believe in yourself."

"You're wrong." She whispered to his back. "You made me believe."

::A million miles between us::

She went back to New York. To Westchester, and the X-Mansion. Or had she? It confused her, sometimes.

Every universe seemed to have different outcomes, different times and places. Sometimes they welcomed her back with open arms. Other times, Operation: Zero Tolerance had wiped them all out. Once, it was Onslaught she encountered, ruling a world that made Apocalypse's "Survival of the fittest" doctrine seem like a kid's story.

After a while, she stopped caring. World after world after world. All of them similar, or not. Whether she could breath on them or not didn't matter. They were there or they were gone.

::Planets crashing to dust::

"Love, hate, death, life. It all happens."

Silence answered the rather arrogantly delivered comment. Then a snort echoed.

"I am being serious, you know."

"Are you, my dear?"

He reclined back onto the lounge, and smiled at her. "But of course, my buttercup. How else shall I be?"

"Sad. Bereft." She giggled and swanned over to him, sliding into his lap easily. "Lost."

"I'm always lost when you look at me."

"Flatterer."

He leaned up and kissed her, trailing his lips absently around her chin then down her neck to her shoulders. "You taste like pizza."

She jerked back, startled, "What?"

"I like pizza."

Catching the rather heated look in his eyes, she snorted, "Yeah?"

"Yes." He dipped in, skimming his lips along the hollow of her throat. "It's delectable."

She caught his shoulders and pushed, tumbling him backwards against the cushions. "Well, we'll just--"

A wave smashed over them, crystalizing her in an instant and shattering it into a million trillion pieces.

Pete stared up at the space she had once occupied for a long moment before dissolving himself.

::I just let it fade away::

Smoke drifted lazily to the ceiling, joining previous lungfulls to dance around absently. It was a waltz of soft breezes and bored sighs.

The shifts had surprised him, at first. Then he'd decided they made sense, as he drifted through them. She was there, of course.

Sometimes he thought it was his Kitty. But she never was.

It surprised him to realise he missed her. After all, he'd been the one to leave, not her.

Still...

::I'm walking empty streets::

Post-apocalyptic movie designers had gotten it just about right, she reflected. The streets were silent, save the click of her boots as she moved among the wreckage of buildings. Flotsam and jetsam coated the streets, pieces of masonry, clothing, furniture, everything smashed into bits and pieces as if a giant had stepped on it. Charred remains of human flesh occasionally smouldered into the air, and the smell caused her to gag.

Nothing was worth it, she thought tiredly as she searched yet another shell of a house for food or water. Something to keep herself alive while this universe existed around her. She'd had a donut three dimensions ago.

Of course, nearly puking every five minutes wasn't doing much for her appetite.

Glass tinkled from nearby, and she turned towards the sound wondering if it was friend or foe. Or possibly an animal.

Nothing followed, and she began to assume it was the wind.

And then he appeared. Lank hair, shambling gait, and horrible sores on every exposed section of flesh. She gasped softly in horror, and he turned towards her, noticing her. "Kitty?"

Even his voice was gone, ravaged by the waves of radiation that had passed through this world. "Pete." She whispered softly.

"You died."

"No, I... I..." She couldn't think of anything to say as he shuffled closer. Her skin crawled as he grew nearer. He smelled, like dead things, skin and body decaying even as he lived and breathed. She choked on the image and turned from him, running.

"Kitty." He called plaintively, but she ignored him, running.

::Hoping we might meet::

It was accidental, he convinced himself. Just a quick jaunt into the country, maybe, possibly, passing by Braddock's mansion. There was no reason he should see her. But if he did, he wouldn't notice her.

She'd probably ignore him. Or accuse him of stalking her.

And she'd be half right. But it hurt to let her go.

::I see your car parked on the road::

The streets of London, again. She found her feet leading her quite naturally down the street his apartment was on. A car sat in front of the building, and she wondered if it was his or a new girlfriend's.

She shook her head. He wasn't hers anymore. She'd been stupid and let him go. He had every right to fall in love with someone else.

But it wouldn't be love, her mind whispered insidiaously. He'd said that more than once, hadn't he? She'd gotten under his skin and he couldn't shake her.

She'd been in his blood.

How do you love someone after that?

::The light on at your window::

It was the tower, he realised. She'd told him about it, once. Merlin had made it, then made them into Excalibur. Molded and manipulated, so they'd become some ultimate weapon.

Gleaming and white in the moonlight, it towered above him, causing him to wonder if a younger version of her was here. Or if this was the end.

A light popped on in a window high up, and he found that he couldn't resist.

Meggan answered his knock. She looked like a very young version of the woman he'd known. Terribly unsure of herself, and naive. "Is Kitty Pryde in?"

"Yes." She tilted her head to the side, "Who shall I say is calling?"

"Pete Wisdom."

She came to the door quickly. Her brown hair was messy with sleep, or possibly a late night study session. Glasses covered her expressive eyes. And she was wearing pink. He'd liked her in pink. "Hello?"

"Hi."

::I know for sure that you're home::

It was always raining, Kitty felt. Wistfulness coloured her vision as she stared up at the window of Pete's flat. It would be so easy, so simple.... But she couldn't. She couldn't even be sure this was the right him.

What if she was already up there? This universe's version of her?

The idea was too sick and scary to contemplate.

Still...

::But I just have to pass on by::

"Men suck," Rachel said philosophically as she pulled on yet another pair of black underwear.

Kitty snorted from her perch on the other bed in the round room, "You only say that because they all want one thing from you."

"And it ain't my telepathy, gal."

Shoving a strand of her curly hair out of her face irritably, the still growing teenager sighed, "At least they look at you with something like love in their eyes. I just get 'little sister' glances."

"Hey, kiddo, give 'em time." Rachel paused in the midst of pulling on her skin-tight jeans and glanced at her roommate speculatively, "Y'know..."

"Oh, no. I am NOT getting yet another makeover from you. The last one nearly had me breaking both my ankles, remember?"

"I think I can nobly forgo the high heels... this time."

::So no, of course, we can't be friends::

"You look so arrogant still."

Scicluna looked up from the book she'd been reading to study the young woman on the other side of the plexiglass. Brown curly hair, brown eyes, dark circles under those eyes. "Pryde."

"You lost, and you still seem in control." The young woman shivered, "How do you do it, Scicluna? Day in, day out--how do you keep control?"

"It's very easy and simple, Pryde." She leaned into the plexiglass, lips almost touching the embedded microphone. "Control is life."

::Not while I'm still this obsessed::

"Pete?"

She was his. Had to be. So many hadn't known him.

A smile touched her lips, and he cringed inside. "Kitty."

"I missed you."

Oh so easily did he hug her and slide a needle into a vein. She blinked once before crumpling into his arms, the sedative racing through her body.

"Mine."

::I guess I always knew the score::

"Y're cravin' what?"

She sighed, "Oreos and mustard."

Pete stared at his beloved, "If I'd known a loss of taste buds would be the result, I'd never--"

"Yes, yes, dear," Kitty smirked, "But you did. So, be a dear and go find me oreos and mustard."

He shook his head, "Bloody mistake, that. Chocolate and mustard. Next you'll be wanting asparagus dipped in peanut-butter expresso."

"That..." She paused, thinking deeply, then grinned at him, "Don't worry. It only sounds slightly good."

"I'm in love with a woman who has no taste buds."

"You're in love with the mother of your child. You should be a smart man and not piss her off."

With a last mildly sickened look, he left the room to complete the appointed quest.

::This is how our story ends::

He stood, frozen. There was something wrong, he realised. So very wrong, and he couldn't remember what it was. A shift had rippled over them.

"Pete. Pete, how could you?"

He turned slowly, dropping her. Meggan was staring at him, shock in her eyes. She was still so young. He looked at his hands, gnarled with scars and old age. "She used to be mine." he whispered.

::I smoke your brand of cigarettes::

They thought she was mad, smoking. But it helped. She was going to die anyway, in this crazy world of ripped dimensions. Why not smoke? The end would come sooner, this way.

Dazzler was the one who smoked first. But Kate followed soon after. That was before Dazz disappeared in one of the shifts, of course. Torn away as she was lighting yet another cigarette. Stryfe had called it poetic justice.

Kate's hand through his chest had been more poetic.

Sadly, no one else had approved.

::And pray that you might give me a call::

It was never for her.

Like some sort of message service, she always answered it, and it was always for someone else. Rogue, Jubilee, Bobby, Henry.... But never her.

Sometimes it was for Kurt or Piotr or the professor.

But this time it was for her, and someone else had gotten it. Scott seemed very solemn as he handed the handset to her. She spoke calmly, "Hello?"

"Hey, Kitty, it's Sam."

"How's X-Force."

"We're fine, there's..." His voice trailed off slightly, and Kitty could have sworn it caught on something.

"What?"

"There's something I need to tell ya."

Kitty sighed, "Get to the point, Guthrie."

"He's dead."

She blinked, "Who's dead?"

"Wisdom."

Falling. She was falling, the world was wrong, and it all ended, and-- "I knew he'd die someday. Stupid idiot. What'd he do, get shot by a jealous husband?"

"Best we can tell, it was an old enemy of his. He saved our lives, Kitty."

The carpet was a thick dark blue pile, and she restlessly dug a finger into it, "He was always an idiot."

"We apparently knew two different men, then. The one Ah knew was a bastard, but he cared."

"Yes." She whispered, leaning back against the wall as the knot in her chest began to choke her air off.

"Kitty, are you all right?"

The phone no longer seemed to be of any interest, she decided, as her hand let it fall to the floor. "Of course I'm fine."

Scott knelt next to her, touching her arm gently, "Kitty?"

"I'm fine Scott, I'm fine." she repeated as the tears began falling, scalding lines down her cheeks.

He picked up the phone, "Sam? Yes. Take care, son."

Deadness, nothingness, ripped out from the center of her chest. No blood beat through her body, no sound echoed in her mind. Even breathing seemed so very distant. "I'm fine."

::I lie around in bed all day just staring at the walls::

Scicluna would have laughed to see him like this.

Lucky she was dead, really. Blonde bitch had died in a 'prison accident'. He termed it poetic justice. And maybe something more if what Fury had hinted that night had been true.

Pete turned over again, finding the other wall almost as boring as the previous one.

The wall shimmered at him, and he blinked, guessing another of those shifts was about to happen.

As luck would have it, it did. However, this bedroom was radically different from the previous one. He blinked at the mirrored ceiling and black lacquered furniture. What the hell was he now? A gigolo?

::Hanging round bars at night wishing I had never been born::

The Crown had never seemed more dismal, Scicluna reflected as Arkady bought another round of drinks. Most everyone of any use had long since fallen into states of drunkenness. Even Logan and Pete, famed for their guzzling ability were passed out under the table.

"Y'know," Cole announced, "Y'know, I think. I think I'm drunk."

"Really."

Scicluna raised an eyebrow at Zealot. The WildCAT gave her the same look back. Psylocke suddenly blinked at them, "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Indeed, Brain, but if we're to pants them all, shouldn't we do it quickly?"

"Right on, sister."

"I didn't even know members of the Askani Sisterhood could allow themselves to drink."

Sanctity shrugged, "Not all of us are as uptight as the Mother."

::And give myself to anyone who wants to take me home::

She came, back arched. The sweat glistened on her in the candlelight, and he rolled, taking her under him.

The ecstacy faded slowly as he continued thrusting, and she began to feel bored. Again.

It had been different a long time ago. But they bored her now. For some reason few had the ability to do more than cause her to orgasm once. And then it faded, leaving her sticky and dead to life.

He didn't notice, finishing in his own time as she lay there, bored. He fell asleep quickly, too.

Kitty didn't bother waking him as she collected her clothes and left. No doubt he wouldn't even remember her as anything more than a drunken haze. That was fine with her, she had better things to do.

::So no, of course, we can't be friends::

"I'll never understand you X-types."

Kitty turned, blinking at the woman standing behind her. "You're the one screwing the Messiah-Complex."

"At least I forgive him."

"You've got it wrong, there." A half-laugh escaped the younger woman. "I'm the one unforgiven."

"He'll come around."

"Not in my lifetime."

::Not while I still feel like this ::

He would get her back. He had to. She was his. She was always his.

Even though he could never find her. Not the right one.

They were always different, always someone else. Some dated Piotr, some boinked Storm, a few hadn't ever met him.

It was frustrating. She should be his.

::I guess I always knew the score ::

Dawn touched her, and she mumbled, rolling away from the light. Her head ached, though, and the persistant throbbing within it slowly made her drag herself into some semblance of order. She headed down to the kitchen, robe vaguely tied as she searched for coffee and aspirin.

Meggan was up. The cheerfulness radiating from the kitchen made Kitty pause in the doorway, shuddering.

"Good morning!"

"Ssssshhh."

"Awww." The blonde fairy-woman bounced across the floor and wrapped an arm around Kitty's shoulder. "Drank too much last night, I see."

"Not funny."

Meggan sat her in a chair and bustled around, humming under her breath. Kitty glowered at her as a mug was set in her hand, "You're happy."

"Yes." She bounced.

"Bouncing, too."

The sprite danced away, busying herself around the refrigerator.

"Meg..."

"Yes?"

"What the hell is making you so happy?"

"It's a secret."

Kitty pondered this for a moment as Meggan looked at her, "I won't tell anyone."

"OK." Moving faster than the eye could follow, Meggan bounced back over and crouched next to Kitty. "I'm pregnant." She whispered.

"Brian must be thrilled." Kitty mumbled, fighting back the sudden tears.

"He doesn't know yet." She giggled, "I'm making him a big breakfast, then I'll tell him."

"Are you sure?"

"Very." A bright beam came from the happy woman. "I can feel the life inside of me, she's bubbling away and growing fast." Green eyes drifted closed for a moment, as if savouring the feel of the person inside.

"I'm... glad for you." Kitty downed the hot coffee, ignoring the burns that resulted, and stood. "I'll see you later."

::This is where our story ends::

It had been so long since he'd understood anything about this world. Time moved oddly, places melted into each other.

There once had been some sort of pattern, maybe it might once have been real.

His feet had drifted off into space long ago, along with the grey tips of his hair.

Inconsequentially, he wondered if there would be penguins knocking on his door soon.

::You left behind some clothes::

She found the tie under her pillow.

It was skinny and black, like all his ties had been. It should have gone with the others. For a time, she looked at it, sensing the lostness about it.

The tie cried to be returned to its owner.

With a wry grimace, she left her room and headed out onto the cliffs.

Far below her the sea crashed relentlessly against the rocks and stones. She stared down at them, wondering if some part of him had survived the fall before being ripped apart by the tide.

She doubted it.

The tie didn't last very long, either.

::My belly sommersaults::

The air smelled of sulphur, and he swallowed thickly against the rising bile in his throat.

It wasn't as if he hadn't seen a hundred girls like this before. Maybe even thousands, given the quickly flipping worlds he'd walked through.

But the tatters of her dress reminded him of her yellow and blue jumpsuit, and he shivered as he turned her over. Sightless eye sockets stared up at him, maggots wriggling in and out of them. Something dripped down from her cheek, and he dropped her, his stomach heaving in revulsion.

The brittleness of the brown hair should have warned him, he thought mistily as he lost the contents of his stomach.

::When I pick them off the floor::

There was candy corn on the floor. She blinked, realising another shift had washed over her bedroom.

Carnival music played from somewhere nearby, grating in its cheerfulness. Kitty stood slowly, wondering if asking nicely would get it turned off. Her bed had changed into a sort of daybed remeniscent of the Victorian era. She blinked.

The music changed, becoming a new irritatingly happy song.

She fought the impulse to smile, even though it wouldn't be a real smile.

New dimensions didn't really impress her after all this time. Wincing as her hip protested the movement, she stepped towards the door and opened it.

Outside the sun shone down, a mellow golden colour bathing the Earth in its enchanted rays. Small children ran around happily calling to each other between the booths of the carnival. A clown walked past her, and she shivered at his painted face.

It seemed odd to be frightened of a clown. She'd survived so much to come to this day.

Floods, wars, fires, deaths... One of the children glanced at her as he passed. She tried to smile and found her whithered cheeks able to hold it for an instant before it slipped away.

::My friends all say they're worried::

"You look like shit, Wisdom."

"Bugger off."

"Hell, no. Get off that bed. You're coming--phew. Maybe I'll shove your skinny ass in the shower, first."

He glared from under limp hair at Domino. The dark-haired mercenary crossed her arms, unperturbed. "Not movin'."

"I've smelled worse things than you--hell, I've been buried in most of them." She leant over and grabbed him by the back of his neck, hauling upwards. He came up unwillingly, and she shoved her shoulder under his, dragging him nearly to his feet. For a moment, they tottered there, then she got a better grip and began shuffling across his bedroom.

"Bitch." He muttered, feeling his legs responding to the movement--probably in an effort to not be dropped.

"Thank you."

He tried to glare more as she opened the shower, flicked on the faucet, and shoved him in clothes and all. But he was too busy sputtering as the freezing cold water quickly reduced him to a shivering mass.

A bar of soap was handed to him and then the water began to warm some. He tried using the soap on his clothes, and heard a snicker. "Works better if you're naked, Wisdom."

Calling her a bitch again would be redundant, he decided. But he stripped out of the shirt, tie and trousers. He left his boxers on.

"I've seen worse, Wisdom."

He did call her a bitch, then, before stripping completely and making fair use of the soap.

Finally, he was finished, and he pulled back the shower curtain to find her gone. There was a towel on the toilet and a set of clothes draped over the sink. He muttered uncomplimentary things under his breath as he dried off and dressed.

"I can hear you, you know."

"Bugger."

"No, thanks. Wisdom, where the fuck is your coffee maker?"

"Don't have one."

That brought her to the bathroom door. She looked surprised, "Nate and I visit frequently, and you don't have one?"

He shrugged, "We always hit the Crown, 'member?"

"Sounds like fun."

"Not goin'." He announced, stalking past her to find a packet of cigs under the slightly mouldy pizza boxes stalked next to his bed.

"Yes you are."

He flipped her the two-fingered salute, and lit his first fag of the morning.

She snorted, "Nate's crankier in the morning."

"Bet you're better at wakin' him up, too." He half-leered.

Domino rolled her eyes, "Wisdom, finish getting your ass dressed, and then we're going to the pub. I need lunch, and you haven't even had breakfast."

::I'm looking far too skinny::

"You going to finish that?"

Rogue blinked at Kitty, then smiled, "Nah, hon, you go ahead and eat it."

The other woman smiled and retrieved the half a sandwich the southern belle had left untouched. It was a good sandwich: pastrami, mustard, green peppers and onions with just a hint of tomato. As she chewed she wondered how many calories were in it. If she had that website right at hand she could look it up.

With that thought in mind, she wandered out of the kitchen and headed towards her room.

She was lucky. Coming back to the mansion when she had gave her a choice room that had its own bathroom. And with her stereo on, no one could hear anything.

It was so easy. Eat all you want, go take a homework/computer break, slide a finger down your throat.

Her toothbrush was getting well-used.

::I've stopped returning all their calls::

The phone rang, interrupting the sound of a country music song that was execrable, yet oddly soothing to the man who lay on his bed. He picked up the receiver, then dropped it down and finished the move by then pulling it off the hook.

He was listening to the music of pain and sadness, and not even a call from his ex-boss would cheer him up.

And it was probably a tax collector, or a telemarketing ploy, anyway.

It would never be her.

::And no, of course, we can't be friends::

Fist impacted on glass, and she bit her lip against the pain. Fractured images of herself winced in the mirror as she pulled her hand from its embrace.

She wasn't sure why, anymore.

But she also didn't understand why he'd left her. He shouldn't have.

Piotr had left her long ago, and he'd paid the price. First his brother, then his parents, then his sister. And then she killed his son. A smile crossed her face, as she remembered the magnificent pleasure of skinning the little boy. It had almost left her feeling as exhausted as multiple orgasms did.

"Oh, Pete," she whispered softly. "How much will you scream?"

::Not while I'm still so obsessed::

Butterflies fluttered around him, full of life and colour. It was a welcome change from the previous world, which was apparently the dream of several film noir movie directors. All black and white, with the occasional shade of grey. And, of course, the femme fatale in red.

Normal colour was nice. Even the grass seemed normal, despite the orange hue to it.

He extended a hand, curious. One of the fluttering creatures slowed down, then perched on his finger.

It sat there for a moment, then launched back into the air, purple and green and gold wings shining in the blue sunlight.

"Women. They always leave in the end." He muttered.

::I want to ask where I went wrong ::

She shoved another stake through the wall, and sighed. Anger wasn't the answer.

Yelling at Doug had been idiotic and stupid. And really not worthy of her. But...

He had left. Without giving her a chance. And Doug had to be all self-righteous and right.

Right about everything. Which sucked, because Kitty hated it when other people were right.

Pete used to think he was Always Right.

Look where that got him. Dead. Slain in front of her eyes by the demon inside Yana. And then Rigby, and Parker, and now Riley.

It never ended.

She snorted. The Slayer wasn't supposed to live past 18 anyway. If that old. So, who was she kidding.

"Time to turn it all in? Nah. Then they'd be left with Psycho-Tabby."

But something would change. It had to. Or she would crack. And Psycho-Tabby would be sane in comparison.

::But don't say anything at all ::

She wasn't speaking anymore. He was glad, because the things she said hurt too much. Even when the speech was slowly escaping red blood, it hurt.

It wasn't his fault.

But she wouldn't stop talking.

Pete sighed as he cradled her, eyes staring up at him sightlessly, gag useless to stop her screams now.

::It took a cup of coffee::

Black coffee splattered her hand, and she winced. It was just-brewed, someone was sure to nail her for coffee abuse.

"That's felony in some places."

Kitty scowled at Domino, "I'm sure it is."

The luck-favoured mercenary chuckled and dropped into the chair across from her, coffee in hand. "Enjoying yourself?"

"No. I'm still trying to figure out why the hell I'm here."

A shrug came from the other woman. "Nate thought you were bored. Apparently, you were."

"College isn't supposed to be boring." Kitty noted, a slightly rueful sound in her voice. "It's supposed to be enriching."

"Enriching usually means boring, I've found."

They silently toasted to this fact, and drank. The silence which fell was rather companionable, and Kitty found herself liking Domino, even if the woman was a hard-ass when it came to training.

Nathan Summers wandered in, then. He yawned as he poured himself a cup of coffee then sat down next to Domino. Kitty studied his bleary eyes and chuckled. "Worse than Pete in the morning."

A snort came from Domino, "Pete's worse. He always has to smoke that morning fag."

"True." Kitty felt a slight twinge, and realised that she still missed Pete. Two years, and his name could still make her feel sad.

::To prove that you don't love me ::

In the blackbird, Kitty stared at Pete. They'd won. This Black Air installation was gone. She smiled at him. "Pete? C'mere."

-finis-

Back to my stories
Feedback
© 2003 ALC Punk!