Forever

FOREVER—CHAPTER 19 (NC-17)

 

A/N Lots of thanks to Foxfeather for reading all this and
thanks to InterNutter for letting me manhandle her springboard… Standard disclaimers apply.

 

 

 



 

“Kitty, I
love you very much...”

“Me too,
Sweetie.”

“…but if
you don’t stop playing that Shakira song now I will ‘port myself in
front of a truck.”

“Spoilsport…” Kitty had an almost manic gleam about her
the further they got from Bayville and it was becoming very disturbing to the
others in the jeep.

“Um. Kit, how
far is Chicago?” Scott turned the map
around worriedly for several minutes before realizing it was a Canadian map and
the states were a bare border along the southern portion of the diagram.

“About….18
hours. Ish.” Kitty bounced in her seat, trying to see over Jean’s shoulder as
she barreled down I-80 towards Illinois.
“We’ve been on the road since…lessee….nine last night and it’s five
now….So we have ten hours left.” They
had decided to take turns driving, Kitty’s turn being the last since she had a
vague idea how to maneuver through Chicago.
Jean had spelled Scott after the six-hour mark and they were making good
time, Jean possessing what Storm referred to as lead foot.

“Ten
hours…Can we stop for food or something?
I’m hungry!” Kurt had held off
as long as he could, trying to process the fact that he had just committed a
variety of infractions all because Kitty asked him too. I am so whipped. Heh.
Kitty whipped[1],
literally… The rumbling in his stomach could not be ignored forever, though. He was feeling weaker by the mile.

Jean
mumbled something about wasting time and pulled off the freeway and into a gas
station parking lot. “This’ll have to
do. It’s too early for the fast food
places to be open. Besides, we’re
running low on fuel.” Kurt smiled in relief, activating his holo. The four
piled out of the car, stretching and straining against travel-weariness. Kitty followed Kurt inside while Scott
rifled through the glove box in case there was a map he had somehow missed the
first seven times he had looked through the papers there.

“This is
all crap…” Kitty examined the back of a package of Twinkies until Kurt yanked
it out of her hands, flashing a weak grin at his girlfriend. Kitty was still sans shoes, her feet being
too sore for the clogs that Kurt grabbed on his way out of her room. She shuffled carefully, mindful of the
myriad cuts on her soles while trying not to draw attention to the fact that
she was violating the “No Shirt, No Shoes, No Service” sign posted on the
stations’ door. Kurt had quite a pile
of junk food in his arms and he was piling it on the counter, feeling for his
wallet in his back pocket. “I’ve got
it, Kurt.” Kitty had seen the panic
flash in his eyes when he realized that his wallet was back at home, sitting on
his nightstand. “Lucky I hadn’t emptied
my pockets yet.” Kitty put her armful
of drinks on the counter next to Kurt’s food waited as the man rang up their
purchases, her eyes wandering around the space behind the counter. “Porn.
Porn and beer and beef jerky.
How great is America?” she
muttered. Kurt raised an eyebrow at
her, following her gaze.

“Jugs? I don’t get it...Why would there be an adult
magazine about jugs?”

“Er,
um...It’s not about the vessel. It’s about...well...breasts. Mainly.”
Kitty was flushing bright red.

“Jugs are
breasts? You people are weird.” His
head-shake took in everything from the porn magazines to American slang. Kurt
peered at the magazine again. “Why
would any one need dirty magazines when all they have to do is go home to their
wives or girlfriends?”

“Or
boyfriends. Or...that black leather
thing the man on that cover has...” Kitty jerked her head in the direction of a
rather raunchy (even by porn standards) magazine. She felt her ears burn at Kurt’s frankly curious glance towards
the magazine cover. Damn it. Before all of this, we could talk about anything and everything. Now we’re lovers and I blush about porn. I’ve gotten soft in my old age…Kitty
eyed the cashier, dawdling over their change.
He seemed to be having trouble counting. “Sir?” Kitty leaned
forward, prepared to tell him just to keep the change, they were in a hurry,
when a movement outside caught Kurt’s eye.
Half-turning his head, Kurt saw a red sedan sitting just outside the door,
half-parked on the sidewalk.

He could see Scott, just past the
car, walking towards the store while Jean arranged herself behind the steering
wheel. Two men getting out of the red
sedan seemed not to notice Scott; they just plowed into the store, one with a
large bore gun raised and aimed already at the cashier. Kurt, acting on instinct, shoved Kitty
behind him, bracing for whatever was to come.
“Nobody move! This is a
robbery!”

“Any of you fuckin' pricks move,
and I'll execute every mother fuckin' last one of ya.”[2] The second man was armed with a sawed-off
shotgun and seemed to mean what he said, drawing a bead on Kurt.

“Kurt…” Kitty’s hands clutched at his biceps reflexively. Kurt pressed against her, trying to let her
know it would all be alright, just stay calm.


“Be QUIET!” The first man was rounding the counter where
the scared clerk stood, hands raised and shaking. Kurt could see Scott, frozen stock-still outside. He could tell that his friend was debating
whether or not to use his powers, whether or not to come barging in like a
knight errant. Please, no,
Scott. Just hide in the jeep. Go! Experimentally, Kurt reached out mentally to
Jean and found himself met by a wall of panic.
Kitty? His girlfriend’s
breath whispered against the hidden fur on the back of his neck as if she were
talking. The second man, who, Kurt
noted, had a lazy eye, was guarding the front of the store, his gun trained on
Kurt and Kitty. The first man was
demanding money from the clerk and getting very upset with the slow
response. Kitty jumped at the impact of
the butt of the revolver against the clerk’s skull and she emitted a tiny
squeak, drawing the eyes of Lazy Eye.

“Shut
up, cunt!” Kurt winced—he knew Kitty
hated that word. I’m about to die
and I’m worried that she’ll be offended by this man’s name calling. Scott had moved, Kurt saw. His friend was over at the jeep, motioning
frantically to Jean, who herself was hunched over the steering wheel in what
Kurt guessed was psychic pain from Kitty’s panicked outburst. Hesitant now, Kurt sent a thought to
Jean. He knew it worked when he saw her
stiffen. Don’t come in here,
please! Just stay still!

“You—stick-boy! Help move this prick!” The first man was bracing the unconscious (dead?)
clerk against the counter, trying to keep him from falling to the floor. Kurt was loathe to leave Kitty but she
half-shoved him so he stumbled over.
“What’s your name?”

“Ich spreche kein Englisch[3]…”
Kurt spread his hands wide, not having to pretend upset confusion. He moved to help, though, pretending that he
could not understand most of the crude invectives hurled against him or
Kitty. Kitty tried to remain
inconspicuous, slinking back against the display of sodas. She never took her eyes off of Kurt as he
pulled the clerk out from behind the
counter and lay him flat on the floor before the second man.

“Hey,
Frank—you speak German?”

“Dumbfuck! You just said my name! Mom was right—you are an idiot!”
Frank, the first man, whirled on his brother, spilling money out of the
register drawer. “Now what’re we gonna
do?”

“Well, I
don’t think the guy speaks English…”

“Frank is
Frank, no matter what language you speak.
Shit, man… Hey, girl—you speak
English?”

Kurt’s eyes
sought Kitty’s begging her to fake it.
Haltingly, she replied “Ich spreche kein Englisch,” mimicking Kurt’s
tone if not his accent.

“Tourists! They’re fucking tourists!” Frank’s brother seemed remotely pleased
about that. He waved his gun at Kitty
and motioned for her to come over to where he stood. Kitty pretended to be dense and moved a few steps before pausing
uncertainly. “Damn it. All I remember from high school is how to
count to ten and say colors.” He turned
to Frank. “Got nothin’.”

“It’s
okay. I’ve got all the money… Let’s blow.” Frank vaulted the counter and landed near the prone clerk and
Kurt. “Witnesses…”

“No masks…”
The two seemed to be talking in short hand, Kitty thought. Desperately, she wondered where Jean and
Scott were, why they weren’t bursting in to help. The logical part of her brain coolly informed her that it would
be foolish of her friends to rush in, it would probably get them killed, after
all. The warring sides of her brain
compromised and shut down completely, leaving Kitty numb and slightly
agog.

Kurt seemed to decipher what would
happen rather quickly. No masks,
witnesses…guns. Shit! He was forced to his knees, as was Kitty,
and they were made to kneel in front of the moaning clerk. “Ich liebe dich, Katzchen.” Kitty nodded, gulping back a sob. Hesitantly, she scooted close enough so that
their knees were touching, her warm pressure strangely comforting. Frank stood at the head of the clerk and
pressed the muzzle of his weapon against the man’s forehead. A muffled, wet explosion and gore splatterederywerywhere, seeping out from under the clerk’s head and the wide hole in his
skull. Kurt stiffened and fought the
urge to vomit but Kitty did not seem to change at all. He felt her take a deep breath next to him
and saw, from the corner of his eyes, that her own lids were fluttering
shut. Jean screamed in his mind,
demanding a sign of life. He was too
scared to give one. Frank and his
brother murmured in conversation behind them and Kurt felt stomach sink to his
knees as a cold barrel was pressed to the back of his neck. Kitty was crying, and he knew that the other
gun was pressed to her. He was not sure
which happened first, the sound of the gun cocking or Kitty’s hand suddenly
dropping to grab his wrist. All he knew
was that he felt more all of a sudden, like he was part of
everything around him. A dull feeling
passed through his neck and he saw the bullet lodge in the counter in front of
him. I thought it would hurt more… It took him several seconds to realize what
was going on. There was a second hole
in the counter where the shell that was meant for Kitty had lodged. No blood, no screaming…Is she holding her
breath? Am I? The stunned silence behind them was all he
needed to get moving. Kurt pulled Kitty
up with him, spinning to face their assailants. He saw their eyes were wide and Frank’s hands were shaking.

“Monster!” The brother pointed with ill-checked horror
and Kurt looked down. Damn. He was blue and fuzzy again. Or…
A feral growl escaped his throat and he bared his fangs, not caring how
animal he appeared at that moment.
Kitty would not let go of his wrist no matter how hard he pulled, but
rather pulled him in a different direction, away from the stunned faces of
Frank and his brother.

“Phased!” she
gasped and he understood what happened—she had seized his holo when she grabbed
his arm, and her phasing them both had shorted it out. “Run!”
The two robbers were coming out
of their stupor and Kitty felt a rush of panic. “Can’t hold it too long!”
Kurt abandoned his idea of somehow trapping their attackers and allowed
Kitty to pull him towards the door.
Gaining the exit, she let go of his wrist and pushed him ahead of
her. “Go, damn it!” He broke into a quadrepedal run, Kitty close
on his heels and the robbers close on hers.
Jean had the car running and doors open, so all they had to do was pile
in. “Go!” “Schnell!”

There was a
sharp jerk to one side as bullets struck the jeep. Kitty leaned forward, breathless, and put her hands on the
dashboard. Scott and Kurt could
actually track the bullets as they passed through the jeep, unimpeded due to
Kitty’s phasing. Kurt had the
disturbing sensation that Kitty was shorting out, like a bad plug, and grabbed
her around the waist. “Let go!” A firm tug and she broke contact, collapsing
virtually unconscious into Kurt’s arms.
Sirens wailed by, going the direction they just came from. “Jean, what do we do?”

Scott and
Jean exchanged looks. “We go back to
the mansion. We can’t take her to Chicago
like that. And you…” Her glance took in Kurt’s natural state.

“Ja…Kitty
will be so upset. “ He stroked Kitty’s
dark hair tenderly, smoothing it back from her damp brow.

“Man, you
nearly died back there and you’re worried that Kitty will be pissed that
we had to go back?” Scott
sounded irate.

“Scott,
it’s shock. When the reality sets in,
we’ll all freak out appropriately.” She
did not feel the need to add that she had felt the clerk die, felt the thudding
explosion in her own head, the leaking out of life… “We’re eight hours
out. If I don’t get stopped, we can
make it back in four.” Jean pressed the
accelerator as far as she could and still steer safely, roaring back towards
New York on the I-80.

 

Mrs. Wagner
passed a tired hand over her face, fighting the urge to scream. “For the last time, wo ist mein Sohn?”[4]

“Madam, I
am afraid that I have no clue.” Beast
rocked back on his heels, chewing his lip thoughtfully. “Jamie, Remy—what have you found?”

“Found a
letter from some girl named Ruth.”
Jamie waved it over his head like a prize.

“Las anyone
see of ‘em be ‘bout eight or so last night…M’sieur McCoy—Jean and Scott are
gone too…” Remy rubbed a hand over his
stubble-darkened jaw. “We be tinkin’
dey together…”

“Yeah—the
Jeep’s gone.” I can get the hang of
this spy stuff—I wonder if Jubilee misses being sneaky like this! Mrs. Wagner did not seem consoled by this
new information.

Beast made “hmming” noises
sh
shook his massive head. “They’ve been
gone for nearly thirteen hours…” If
there’s one saving grace, it is that Charles and Logan are not due back until
tomorrow.

“I leave
him in your care and the first time I come to see him, you’ve lost him!” Kurt’s mother rose to her feet, pacing
agitatedly in a manner very reminiscent of Kurt’s own behavior. “Tell me again about this whole Kitty
situation.” Storm and Beast had
apprised her of the recent goings-on alicalicately as possible, the mutants
heartened somewhat by her taciturn acceptance of the matter. “Start at the
beginning, when they…got caught…” She
sat down again, her lips compressed into a thin line, and motioned for Beast to
begin again. A ruckus outside halted
any further conversation, however. A
loud screech followed by a concrete crunch reverberated through the mansion,
freezing everyone in their place.
Jean’s voice, yelling for help, snapped the adults into motion. Remy and Jamie were practically pushed to
the side as Beast, Storm, and Mrs. Wagner thundered past. The scene waiting for them under the port
cochere was surreal at best, horrific at worst. The jeep had several bullet holes in one side of it and was
crunched against a concrete pillar supporting the overhang. The driver’s side door was open and Jean was
half-in, half out of the vehicle, pulling someone out. Scott and Kurt were coming around the side,
Kurt spattered with blood and gobbets of dried gore. He had not yet seen his mother, so intent was he on Kitty’s prone
form.

“Dr.
McCoy! Help!” Jean sensed his arrival and stepped to one side, waving frantic
hands at Kitty. The smaller girl had
her foot caught in a seatbelt, her limp body making it nearly impossible to
maneuver her free of the restraints.

“Children! What happened?” Beast reached in and tore the offending belt loose from the seat,
freeing Kitty. Kurt was on hand to help
catch her as she slithered out of the car, eyes fluttering but still to weak to
move. Beast tensed and clenched his
eyes shut as Jean poured the events since last night into his head, also
projecting the images to Storm. “She’s
overextended herself. On top of the
stress of the past week, she’s just shut herself down.” Hurriedly, he scooped Kitty up and strode
into the mansion followed closely by Kurt, Jean, and Scott. Jamie and Remy
joined the parade, Storm and Kurt’s mother bringing up the rear. Beast shooed everyone except for Kurt, Storm
and Kurt’s mother out of the infirmary, depositing Kitty onto an ever-ready
bed. The girl’s eyes fluttered again
and she moaned something that sounded like Kurt’s name. “Katherine…Kitty…Can you hear me?” Beast
patted the inside of her wrists, seeking a response. “Kitty.”

“Katzchen…”
Kurt moved forward, reaching out a hand to touch her face. Amazingly, she responded, turning her face
towards Kurt’s voice. “Katzchen, you’re
sick… Doctor McCoy is going to jab you with a needle, but I’ll hold your hand,
okay?” Indeed, Beast was readying an
vial of something Kurt guessed was a relaxant, swabbing Kitty’s inner elbow
with an alcohol saturated pad. Storm
and his mother hung back, watching this interplay between the young
couple. Kitty’s face wrinkled in
discomfort when Beast slid the needle into her vein and Kurt’s eyes went wide,
his fear of needles surfacing rapidly.
His mouth tightened in suppressed panic before Kitty gave his hand a
faint tug. He smiled a little and bent
his ear to her mouth, listening for her whispered words. After a moment, he turned his head to kiss
her lightly on the cheek. “Me, too, Liebes…” Kurt sighed and adjusted Kitty so that she
was laying flat on her back and her hands were on her stomach, then thought
better of it. “Too much like a corpse,”
he murmured to Beast as he readjusted her hands to they were by her side.

“This is
Kitty, then?” Mrs. Wagner’s voice was a
strange mix of relief and anger.

Kurt’s back
and tail went ramrod straight as he turned to face the source of the
words. There stood his mother, pale
with exhaustion and worry, tension lining her mouth and eyesurt urt stood stock still and opened then
closed his mouth, looking like a guppy to Storm’s tired eyes. In a weak voice, Kurt murmured “Ich glaub’s
nicht!”[5]

 

Remy stared
at his hands, forming a steeple over the kitchen table. Jamie had long ago finished his hot cocoa
and been sent off to bed and Rogue had merely snarled at his suggestion that
she stay up and wait with him for news of the four wayward mutants. Scott and Jean were still hovering outside
the infirmary with Kurt, Kitty, and the adults sequestered within. By de mornin’ everyone gonna know what
goin’ on… Rahne already had a clue,
he suspected. She had sniffed the air
deeply, reminding him of Logan, smiled knowingly and vanished into the woods
outside the mansion, claiming a need to stretch her legs. He had no real idea where the rest of the
mutants were, just Jubilee… His insides
were in turmoil over her and he found it more disturbing than a botched
thieving job. He could hear her moving around
the mansion even now—she was not bothering to be quiet owisewise he would never
know that she was there. Remy followed
her progress through the mansion mentally: first she was in her room, he could
hear her steps move from her closet to where her bed should be, then back
again. A long pause and a scuffling
sound on the ceiling. He figured she
was dressing then and had dropped something.
He tracked her progress down the stairs, her thumping steps telling him
that she was jogging and wearing combat boots.
Jubilee entered the rec room and Remy went still, praying that she could
not see him in the darkness of the kitchen.
She flipped on a small table lamp and revealed how little she had on—her
trench coat over black hot-pants and what appeared to be a halter top. Her legs were bare between the hem of her
shorts and the top of her boots, leaving a long expanse of golden skin for Remy’s
eyes to feast on. Her pink glasses were
pushed back, making her hair spike more than usual. She bopped around the room to music playing in her head,
gathering her ever-present CD player and selecting which album she wanted to take
along. Remy smirked a little in the
darkness as she chewed her lower lip, deep in thought. Finally, she nodded to herself and with a
slightly wicked grin, slid a sliver disc into the player, clipping the device
to her waistband and swaying in time with the music. “I would die for you, I would die for you…I’ve been dying just to
you you by my side, to know that you’re mine…”[6]
Her eyes were closed and she was moving with the assurance that those who
believe themselves alone have. Jubilee
ran her hands over her torso and licked her lips, drawing a deep shuddering
breath from Remy. He was never sure if
she heard him inhale or if she was alerted to his presence by some other sense,
but Jubilee stopped mid-sway and her eyes snapped open, focusing directly into
his. “What’re you doing?”

“At de
moment, watchin’ you, chere.” Remy un-steepled
his hands and flexed his fingers. “What
you doin’?”

“Ah. Going out.”
She seemed to be over her initial shock and was merely staring back at
him warily. “You interested?” Her face flushed a dull bronze in
remembrance of their previous night’s conversation.[7]

“I be
tinkin’ dere be some big stuff goin’ down tonight and dis here Cajun wants to
be on de front lines…” He rose and
extended a hand to her, “Join me?”


Jubilee
slunk into the room, settling down onto a backwards facing chair. Resting her chin on the back of the chair,
she eyed him with some embarrassment. “Look,
last night, when I told you I loved you, I didn’t want to open myself up to
pity dates.”

“I askin’
you as a friend, as someone I care for very much, Jubilee.” Remy closed his eyes behind his glasses,
willing the image of Jubilee’s face the night before, as she sat under the oak
tree all innocent appearing and hopeful, out of his mind. It did not work.

“A friend…yeah. I can do that.” She did not sound very convinced.

“Things…are
weird, non?”

“Last night
it wasn’t.” She neither agreed nor
disagreed, he noted. “I told you that I
might love you because I just hated holding it in. I don’t want you to get all freakish on me.”

“I not be getting’
freakish, chere. I just confused…”

“What’s to
be confused about? Mac and cheese, me
having a wet dream that I know you saw,” she paused for a glare and he
had the good grace to duck his head, “I blurt out I love you, you say let’s be
friends, I say okay, have a miserable night in Bayville—a.k.a BFE[8]-—and
then I come back and have a nice little talk with Remy, my friend . S. Stayed up late watching movies, eating ice
cream like friends do…that’s it. What
don’t you understand?”

“Remy not
sure… Actually, p’tite, I been kinda
busy today…” Remy say back down and
detailed Jamie’s recon activities from the day before, ending with “an’ I be
tinkin’ Amara pregnant.”

Jubilee
fell backwards off of her chair, arms pinwheeling in shock. “The fuck?”

“She been
ill an awful lot lately…an’ dis mornin’ I see sic sick over coffee. Many femmes dat I know get sick wit coffee
when dey…expecting.”

“Oh? How would you know these women? Nevermind—don’t want details. Shit, Remy.
What do we do?”

“Honestly,
chere, I don’t know.” Remy sat back and
crossed his arms, letting out a puff of breath. From her spot on the floor, Jubilee did the same. “I tink I be needin’ a smoke…”

“Ditto.”

 

 

A/N TBC….sorry
for all the references to the sidefling…





[1] The actual
term is “pussy whipped” but in polite company, people have been known to call
it Kitty Whipped.

[2] Our little
armed robber has been watching Pulp Fiction lately…taken from the scene in the diner
where Honey Bunny leaps up on the table and waves the gun at the patrons. Both lines, I believe.

[3] I don’t
speak English… (thanks, foxy!)

[4] Where is my
son? (again, thanks to Foxfeather…)

[5] I don’t
believe this! (muchos gracias, Foxfeather!)

[6] #1 Crush by
Garbage. A really sexy but almost
disturbing song.

[7] Er, it makes
more sense if you read Macaroni and Cheese (shameless self plug, I know—deal with
it!)

[8] Bum Fucking
Egypt or Bumble Fuck Egypt—slang term for middle of nowhere or a backwater town
with very little to do or see.