Forever

FOREVER—EPILOGUE (NC-17)

 

A/N Well, this is it…Tons and oodles and bushels to
Foxfeather for staying w/me through this looooooooong story and to InterNutter
for letting me manhandle (heh) her springboard. Shiva will start being posted ASAP—within the next day or
so. Thanks millions of times over to
everyone who reviewed. J

 

 

 

 

Lance felt
like he had a softball lodged in his throat.
His palms were sweating, his insides shaking and he was sure that he was
about to throw up. Clutched in his
hands was a small bag, full of what trinkets he could manage to gather for
Amara. A thick novel was tucked under
his arm. C’mon…open the door...don’t
make me ring again! He could hear people moving around inside and averted
his gaze from the sidelight to look around the yard where footlights were
springing to life in the darkening evening.
The air had traces of sadness and anger that Lance could not begin to
define, focusing instead on his mission. Amara had been out of the hospital for
over twenty-four hours and he was now prepared to keep his promise, to see her
and stay with her. Finally, the door
was thrown open by Jubilee.

“Sheesh. You’d think someone closer would
have…Oh.” Her eyes narrowed to
suspicious slits. “What are you doing
here?” Her hands twitched as if itching
to throw a spray of pafs at his face.


“He’s come
to see Amara, I believe.” Beast loomed
behind the Asian girl, appearing seemingly out of nowhere when in fact he had
come from the kitchen, as the cup of steaming coffee clutched in his massive
hand indicated. “She’s upstairs.” Jubilee still had not moved, blocking
Lance’s entry; Beast noticed this and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Jubilation, why don’t you take Lance up to
see her? I’m afraid,” he said, speaking
now to Lance, “that Amara is in a bad way.”
Jubilee finally moved to let Lance enter, growling low in her throat as
she did so. Beast smiled indulgently
and waved an arm to indicate the stairs.
“I’ll walk with you—I’m afraid this needs some explanation.”

“What’s
wrong with her? I mean…I know what’s
wrong, but…” Lance struggled for words
here.

“Amara is
deeply depressed. She will not take the
antidepressants prescribed to her and the Professor and I both feel that this
is a valid choice for her to make. True
healing can only occur if the patient is willing, after all.” Jubilee snorted at this and Beast sent her a
quelling look.

“What?” Her face still bore traces of the bruises
inflicted by Kitty’s father and more recent ones due to dental work, but all in
all, she looked like her defiant old self.


“Jubilee,
on second thought, go see if Jamie needs help cleaning the kitchen.” Beast paused on the first step, arms
crossed. His tone was gentle but
Jubilee knew well enough when to defy him and when to just obey. Lance was relieved when she went to the
kitchen but still somewhat nervous around the massive man known as Beast. “Lance, I hope you understand how extremely
unusual it is that we are allowing you to see Amara. She is all but catatonic.
Amara…is in a great amount of pain.
There are some things about her past that should not be revealed to you
but since you seem determined to…ah, help…her, it was by general consensus that
we decided to explain some things to you.”
Beast turned and moved up the stairs.


“Hey! Aren’t you going to tell me?” Lance was still on the first step, looking
up at the doctor. He felt a well of
frustration, like he was being pixie led.


“You had
best come see for yourself.” Beast
sounded patient but harried and Lance was not sure if the agitation was
directed at himself or the situation Amara was in. Lance followed him up, past several doors before they reached one
opened a bare crack. Faint light shone
through and the smell of incense wafted out.
“Storm thought it best if Amara had some…homey touches to make her feel
safe,” Beast explained before pushing the door all the way open. Lance felt his jaw drop in shock. The last (only) time he had been in her
room, it had looked like what he figured every other teenage girl’s room looked
like (well, aside from Tabitha’s): several knickknacks scattered over most of
the flat surfaces, a smattering of fine fabric, and what Lance called “girly
stuff” which included perfume and a random stuffed animal. Now, though, the room was transformed into
something utterly alien. Filmy,
colorful fabric was hung, tent-like, over her bed. The knickknacks were hidden away or gone, replaced by a few small
figurines that Lance assumed were Nova Roman deities based on their postures
and the aura that clung to them. A
brass brazier stood near Amara’s bed on the nightstand, along with several
small bundles of herbs. Smoke wafted
off the brazier and a rich, grass-like smell rose in blue-gray waves to tease
Lance’s senses.

“What
the…?”

“Storm did
a little research into ancient Roman practices and found some…healing rituals
that she thought would be helpful for Amara’s psyche.” He indicated the burning herbs with a thick
finger. “Roman chamomile.”[1]

Lance moved
closer to the bed, seeking the shape he was secretly longing to see. Amara made a small bundle in the center of
the bed, swathed in thin linen sheets that Storm had procured from her own
bedroom. Amara’s eyes were open but
unblinking, giving Lance the dibingbing feeling of being watched. “Princess?”
He closed the distance, letting his knees bump the edge of the
mattress. “I brought you
something…” Lance shook the bag,
letting its contents bump together gently.

“We think
she can hear you. Every once in a
while, she will say something in her home dialect or even seem to answer us but
we aren’t sure what she is seeing.”
Beast joined him at Amara’s bedside.
“What worries us most is this…”
Gently, he took up Amara’s wrist and held it out for Lance to
inspect. It took a moment for his eyes
to adjust and when they did, he let out a sharp hiss. “Yes, those are scars.”
Beast silently pushed her sleeve up, showing Lance small, circular scars
dotting her arm, ranging in size from a dime at the smallest and a half-dollar
at the largest. “There are some on her
legs and stomach too. Pardon my
bluntness, but you never noticed these scars in all your…activity?”

Lance felt
his eyes prick and silently berated himsfor for feeling such a strong wave of
emotion. “No…I mean, I think I noticed
a few but who doesn’t have some scars?”


“Yes,
well…It’s apparent that she has tried to harm herself in the past and might try
to do so again. Self mutilation is a
sign of depression and is dangerous.”[2] Beast eyed Lance carefully, assessing his
reaction to Amara’s injuries both present and past.

Lance
reached out shakily and touched a finger to the scar on the inside of her
wrist. Unwanted, a small sob escaped
under his breath. “Amara…” Shaking his head, he let his hand fall to
his side and bit his lower lip hard enough to draw blood. “I’ll get her for you, Princess.”

“Ah,
Lance? What is going on with Tabitha?”

“She’s run
off. We---I’m looking for her.” So far, only Todd knew about the fight. Lance had threatened him with pain of death
if word got out before he found Tabitha himself. “How long can I stay?”

“Son, as
long as you need to.” Beast felt an
uncommon surge of sympathy for the boy.
He was willing to overlook the differences between the two groups of
mutants this once, just as he was willing to overlook the simple fact that
Lance had never apologized for his part in the troubles. He could see that Lance was already lost in
laying out Amara’s trinkets—a small stone that seemed to burn with fire from
the inside out, a bottle of something Beast took to be perfume, a silver chain,
and a candle stub. I am not sure if
I want to know about that one…Without another word, Beast silently closed
the door on the static girl and her companion, mentally willing them peace
while they could find it.

 

“Who was
that at the door?” Kitty was laying out
Sabbath dinner for herself, Kurt and Astrid.
Scott and Jean had opted not to join them and instead went to a movie
with Rogue and Remy, much to Jubilee’s chagrin.

“You’ll
never guess. Can I have a piece?”
Jubilee had already taken a chunk of latke[3]
but Kitty nodded acquiescence anyway.

“Santa
Claus?”

“Ha ha,
Jewish Girl. It was Lance!” All activity in the kitchen screeched to a
halt—Kurt balanced a stack of plates carefully as he lowered the glasses
clutched by his tail to the tabletop.
Kitty nearly dropped her candles and Jubilee froze mid-chew. “What?”

“Lance?
What’s he doing here?” Kurt sounded
highly annoyed.

“Probably
came to see Amara. Right, Jubes?”

“Yeah…Beaster
took him up. Hey, when do you think
those guys will be back from the movie?”


“You know
Remy only went because he thought you were going to.” Kurt had been privy to the whole sordid affair—Jean had invited
Jubilee to the movie and failed to mention that Remy was already going, hoping
to surprise the girl. Rogue overheard Jubilee’s refusal and invited
herself. Jean had been too polite to
tell her no, so the foursome ended up being Scott, Remy, Rogue and Jean. Jubilee had been working herself into knots
ever since they had left.

“Pfht. He went because she was going. Damn it! I shouldn’t have…”

“What?” Kitty smirked evilly.
“Nothing…nothing…” I shouldn’t have turned him down! Damn
it! But I told him and Rogue both I was
cool with whatever happened…Shit!
Jubilee snaffled her latke and stomped from the room with a scowl on her
face, passing Astrid as she entered.

“My! What’s wrong with her?”

“Men.” Kurt
andty aty answered as one, both bursting into giggles. “Katzchen, it’s time!” Kurt nodded to the clock over her head and
Kitty let out a startled gasp. She
patted her pockets frantically and accepted the matches Kurt passed her with
his tail. “Always prepared…”
“Such a Boy Scout…” Astrid and Kurt took their places at the
table, Astrid accepting the place directly across from Kitty, well aware what
an honor it was for her to be offered it.[4] Kitty smiled a tad nervously at Kurt and
leaned forward to light the candles, dimming the lights behind her with a quick
flick of her hand. Silence fell as she
covered her eyes with her hands murmured to herself for a moment before
extending her hands over the candles, intoning the Hebrew blessings.

Primed by Kitty earlier, Kurt
leaned to his mother and told her the meaning of the prayers, watching as the
flames created golden shadows on Kitty’s face and hands. He found that he could say one thing and
think another at the same time without fault to either. Mein Gott, she’s beautiful. She’s mine!
Wait, that sounded wrong…but she’s mine! No one can come between us now!
We can kiss, touch…I miss her skin…Es ist als ob jetzt schon Weihnachten
wäre[5]…this
is better than anything I could hope for!
Kurt fell silent now, reaching the end of his explanations to his mother. Kitty still chanted the prayers, rocking
slightly back and forth. Kurt gazed at
her as she stood before him, remembering the fire that burned in her a few
short hours before. Her father had been
taken into town by the police, followed by her mother (wailing loudly about
police brutality) but they were
released shortly thereafter with a court date set several months down the
road. Kitty had been silent for several
hours after it was all over, her eyes glowing with something Kurt could only
identify as vengeance. She was free and
he could feel her rapture. As he
watched her now, strong and confident in her words, drawing on the traditions
and strength of generations before her, Kurt was almost embarrassed to feel a
familiar tightening in his groin. Denk
mit deinem Kopf[6], Kurt! The other head! Schooling his thoughts to more pure lines,
he sat when the women did and felt the glow of the kitchen lights seep into his
soul. Soon the three stars that
signaled the end of Shabbat would rise and Kitty would be free to be carefree
again, not burdened and blessed with carrying on traditions that should best be
shared.

 

Logan joined Professor Xavier in
the study where, mere hours earlier, it had all reached a head. “Alvers is upstairs.”

“I know…I think it might do Amara some good.”

“What?” Logan wanted to throw something.
“It’s half his fault this whole thing happened!”
“I am well aware of that,
Logan, but he has something Amara is in desperate need of right now…” Charles steepled his fingers beneath her
chin and regarded Logan.

Logan snorted. “I think giving her what she needed was what
got her in trouble in the first place…”
At the Professor’s hard stare, he murmured an apology. “I just don’t think it’s wise that he be
here.”
“Despite appearances, Lance
has very…strong…feelings for Amara.
Stronger than any he may have had or still have for Kitty. I hesitate to call these feelings love, but
he has a fierce protectiveness and loyalty that Amara needs in her life.”

Logan did not have to ask how the
Professor knew this—it was a common practice for the leader of the Institute to
“check out” anyone suspect coming into the mansion, much less the grounds. “You trust him?”

“I do not distrust him…”

“Humph.” Logan moved to where he could see the lights of the kitchen
shining through to the foyer. “You
think these two will make it?”

“Even I can’t say…I think they have
the desire to do so, and, once this initial rush of sexual desire fades, the
desire to remain together will still be there.
They were friends first, remember.
Friendship is often the strongest foundation to build on, stronger than
simple love.”

It was Logan’s turn to regard the
Professor. “So…yes?” In his secret heart, he hoped that Kurt and
Kitty would last. It would tear him
apart to see Kitty hurt in anyway and it would hurt him even more to have to
kill Kurt…

“I’ll say a provisional yes. Their awfully young, but Astrid had a
point—they are mature beyond their years andhinkhink that counts quite a bit in
their favor.”

Logan rolled this over in his mind
for a few minutes and closed his eyes, picturing a herd of blue elves, phasing
left and right and crawling all over him.
Oh, God—let that be a long, long way away. “You hear what Kitty said earlier? About waiting?”

“Oh?”

“Yeah—heard her telling Kurt that
she wanted to wait at least until June before they…ah…got together. Just to respect our wishes now and so she
could feel a little better about (ahem) doing it. Said she didn’t want to feel like she had to. Kurt agreed—said he didn’t want her to think
that she was obligated to do it just because her parents were off they’re
backs. Said he wanted to keep courting
her, too.”

The Professor chuckled briefly and
passed his hand over his lips in an effort to keep from smiling. “June? Her birthday…that’s about six weeks away.”

“Yeah. Long time for teenagers to wait, if you ask me.”

“Logan, Logan, Logan…what’s six
weeks when you have the rest of forever to be together?”

 

 

A/N T it it is. * sniff*
Well, it all starts over again in Shiva. Kitty’s cousin, Lance and
Amara, Remy the Man Whore…er, I mean…heh…and Kurt/Kitty! Viva la Kurtty! Arriba!

 



[1] I’m a little
spotty on my Ancient Roman healing at the moment…I’ll go into more detail in Shiva.

[2] Seriously. It’s not funny or fun or healthy. If you do it or know someone who does, get
help.

[3] Potato
pancake. Usually served w/sour cream
and/or applesauce.

[4] In many
Jewish homes, the people who sit at either end of the table are either heads of
household or “keepers of the traditions.”
Important stuff. Not all Jews do
it like this, but some do.

[5] It’s like
Christmas come early (or It’s like Christmas would be now). Thanks Foxy!

[6] Think with
your head! (thanks, Foxy!)