Independence Day

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, places, etc. You know the drill people, so get over the missimpression that I'm the creative, money-making genius behind the cartoon. Sorry for the crazy seperation of paragraphs, but I have yet to master the "text-box" option of file uploading. I blame my stupidity on today's violent media. *Ahem* That being said, I would love feedback from you guys, because, as you might have noticed, the WIP (Work in Progress) status is, unfortunatly, too true, but not to worry my friends, I have several more chapters already written out just waiting to be added ;)

Kitty sat deep in thought thousands of feet up in the atmosphere. A ticket stub was clutched tightly in one hand and a bottle of little pink pills in the other. She had taken one of the pills an hour before takeoff, and was now silently thanking Dr. McCoy, whose scientific genius had finally made the trip to see her family physically possible.

The intercom above her suddenly staticked loudly, and her heart dive-bombed as she started in surprise. Immediately the medication kicked into effect, relaxing her heart and clearing her mind of stress so she wouldn’t accidently ‘phase’ through the plane. In the past the thought of flying had always sent her into a crazed panic attack, and if anyone even mentioned the p-word around her she would feel faint. But here she was, floating peacefully between heaven and earth. . .the pills were working a little too well, and she didn’t fight the sleep that took her.

When she awoke it was to a stewardess shaking her gently. They had landed and she was the last passenger aboard. Feeling only a little embarrassed and extremely disorientated, she fumbled at her seatbelt until it finally clicked open then quickly retrieved her carry-on bag from the overhead compartment. Still fighting off her drowsiness, she only half-listened to the directions the flight attendant had given her and was now ambling her way down the long hallway to meet whomever had been sent to pick her up from the airport.

As soon as she stepped out of the sound-proof terminal she was wide awake. Thousands of people were crowded into the building as they waited for their flights. Everywhere she looked people were seated, standing in line, talking on phones, yelling at children, eating, hugging and crying and laughing, and contributing at the top of their lungs to the overwhelming noise that washed over her.

The smell of food made her conscience of the fact that her last meal had been from the day before, and her stomach rumbled in response. Embarrassed, she slapped her hand over her gut to keep it from repeating itself, then realized that there was no way anyone could have heard it over the hubbub. She shook her head at her silliness, then noticed she’d been standing there gawking for a long time now. Sighing, she slung her bag up on her shoulder and resigned herself to go and look for familiar faces.

After about an hour of roaming around and straining her eyes in hopes of recognizing someone—anyone—Kitty was beginning to feel very lonely and a little scared. She hated being alone, always had, and here surrounded by all these strangers she felt very much alone. If someone from the Brotherhood had suddenly appeared she would have hugged them and followed them willingly.

At some point she had noted four bikers checking her out, but hadn’t thought much about it and had gone on about her way. Now that she was taking note of them she realized that they had been following her for a long time. First she had just shook it off, thinking her jitters were getting the better of her, but when she’d stopped to use the restroom and then found them waiting outside she mentally panicked. Somehow she had managed to keep walking as if she hadn’t noticed them, but her brain was running around in frantic circles. They were very large, very scary-looking men, and her medication was still very much working.

“Why do these things always happen to me?” she thought frantically and quickened her pace, wishing that she’d dressed herself more conservatively that morning instead of simply throwing on the first things she’d found, but she had been too tired to care at the time. Her mother wouldn’t have let her out of the house, would have reminded her about the dangers of young girls going dressed as she was, but Mrs. Pryde had been too distressed at losing her baby for the second time that she hadn’t noticed.

Kitty felt a pang of homesickness as unbidden, memories of the past week came flooding back. It had been a whole year since she had seen her family, and her mother had openly wept with joy when they hugged for the first time outside the airport. Her father, on the other hand, had only smiled thinly in her general direction and quickly busied himself putting her things in the trunk. Tears had stung her eyes at his rejection, but she wasn’t going to let that get to her—she would just have to give him time to understand that she was still his loving daughter and not one of the snarling freaks the tabloids daily portrayed mutants to be.

The first two days had been a blast. Her cousin, whom she fondly remembered playing with as a child, had introduced her to his wife, Mune, and their six-month-old baby boy, Dax (whom Kitty had kidnaped at every moment possible, thereafter). She and her mother had been inseparable, practically attached at the hip as her relatives had joked, and the house had been packed full as all her relatives, distant and not-so-distant, arrived for the early reunion. At some point, she had noticed her father watching her and she had done her best to show him that she was still happy and loving towards the family and not planning on attacking the children with her ‘dangerous mutant tendencies’ as the newscaster had said that morning when they sat down for breakfast. Still he made no attempt to interact with her. Her mother had noticed it also and had apparently been hounding him about it because she was a bit pink in the face when she came to usher everyone into the back yard. And just as they had done every year, for every holiday, birthday, or special occasion, they had a backyard barbeque.

Kitty had romped and played along with all the kids as if she were their age once again, and right along with the other little ones she had been hugged and tugged and kissed by all the older, more forgetful members. She even got an earful from her great-great Aunt for “...Not being married and settled down by now, and my how thin you’re looking,” etc.

She had been so happy and caught up in everyone’s merriment that she had waltzed up to her dad, thrown her arms around his back and laughingly demanded to know when the food would be burned enough for them to eat, (the same joke they had always shared when it was his turn to cook). He had been laughing half-heartedly with her uncles, and was still smiling when he looked down at her, but after a moment the smile froze and he tensed against her.

Reality hit Kitty pretty hard. She had forgotten about his reaction to her mutation, and felt her chin quiver as she hastily moved to pull her arms away. The air rushed from her lungs when she was crushed up against his chest as he embraced her. Not just the memory of her, but the real and present her. She had cried then.

The clearing of a throat made them aware that their moment was being watched. Reluctantly he had pushed her away, giving her a weak smile to let her know he was sorry for doubting her. She was so elated with his acceptance, that she gave him a quick peck on the cheek before snatching the nearest cousin off the ground and swinging him in a circle, his delighted squeals the happiest sound in the world to her ears.

Kitty smiled, remembering the warm weight of baby Dax in her arms and how she and Mune had become fast friends. They, along with Kitty’s mother, had spent the majority of the week shopping for new clothes since she had outgrown most of her old ones and hadn’t had the time or money to shop for new ones while at the mansion. Mune found it particularly funny that, according to Mrs. Pryde, the most drastic change in Kitty had been her bust size.

Kitty was jolted out of her memories by a bout of laughter from behind her. Quickly she ducked into a gift shop to escape her stalkers, figuring she could wait them out inside. The blast of cold air made her shiver, and the bell over the door jiggled loudly as the glass door swished to a close. A woman at the counter glanced disinterestedly in her direction, then resumed reading the Harlequin in her hands.

Small knickknacks, tee shirts, magazines, candy, and various other odds and ends littered the shelves along the walls and aisles. Kitty browsed along, occasionally picking up one thing or another for a closer inspection, then spying the postcard racks, she momentarily lost herself in the simple act of finding one amusing enough to send back to her mother. Goosebumps danced on her arms and legs, and she self-consciously crossed her arms over her chest. Her mother had bought her all new underwear and bras, but Kitty had been too tired to go rummaging around in her already packed things to find them. The shirt she wore now was one she had dug out of the chest-of-drawers in her old bedroom. It was a faded grey, baby tee with her highschool’s name and mascot scrawled across it in large navy letters. It had been snug back then, but now it strained against her ampler bosom and just barely reached her navel. The self-made daisy duke shorts were so frayed at the seams they more closely resembled denim underwear.

“God, where was my brain this morning?” she berated herself. “I look like a hussy fresh out of the trailer park.” Looking down at her feet she couldn’t help but grin in spite of the situation. At least her new pink flip-flops were nice and clean.

Several hours later, Kitty looked up at the clock nervously and shifted her weight to the other foot as she turned the page of the magazine she was holding. The cashier, who had finished her book not long ago, had politely reminded her that the shop closed at three o’clock, which was in thirty minutes.

It scared her to think she’d been in the airport since ten that morning and still no one had come. Had they maybe gotten the dates wrong? Surely the professor had sent someone? Swallowing the panic that rose in her throat and chest, she brought the post cards and the few goofy things she thought Rogue would like to the counter. The lady rang her up and took her money, and after she stuffed the plastic bag into her back-pack she hesitantly asked, “Do you sell any, like, pepper spray or anything?”

The lady, puzzled, shook her head. Kitty just hoped, as she stepped out of the shop, that the guys had finally gotten bored and moved on. Once out in the open again, she casually glanced all around then relaxed. They guys were long gone. Feeling much better now, she decided it would be best to find a payphone and see what was taking so long at the mansion.

After asking directions from a man who had very poor command of the English language, she finally managed to locate them with only a little back-tracking. Amazingly the crowds were much thinner now, and the area around the food court and phones was thankfully deserted. Dropping her bag, she fished some change out of her pocked lifted the receiver to her ear.

Both the change and phone were dropped as she was roughly grabbed from behind. Apparently the room hadn’t been as empty as she had first perceived.