Mirror, Mirror | By : Nemain Category: X-Men - Animated Series (all) > Slash - Male/Male Views: 5878 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men Evolution, or any of the characters from it. I make no money from from the writing of this story. |
Mirror Mirror Chapter Twenty One
Disclaimers Apply
A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST
WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta… If you have any autumn to spare, send it this
way! InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink,
Dracena and Greywolf are loverly and wondermous for archiving/hosting. J ProPhile: *gloke * Morgan: How was the
bday?
Readers/Reviewers: Thank you SO much for reading and reviewing as you
can! J
Her room
was a shambles, Kitty thought miserably.
Everything on her dresser had been knocked onto the floor, the last of
her snow globe collection was leaking sadly into the pink rug that proclaimed “PRINCESS”
at the foot of her bed. Kurt was
panting, huddled over his knees at her feet and Remy was being held back by
Jubilee and Scott. Wide, scared eyes
peered into the scene from her doorway and Kitty wanted to scream at them all,
tell them to mind their own goddamned business.
“You,” she finally said, taking a step towards Remy and wincing at the
crunch of broken glass under her house slipper shod feet, “are cleaning this
mess up. Uh!”
She cut him off with her grunt and a gesture, before he could protest. “Who the HELL swings a bo around inside a bedroom? Inside MY bedroom? And you!” she turned on everyone gathered in
the doorway. “Go to bed! Get out of my
room! This isn’t ANY of your business!”
“But,”
Jamie’s voice came from somewhere in the back of the group, “you made it our
business by yelling so loud.”
Kitty
counted to three before she abandoned the idea of keeping calm. “GET OUT! GET
OUT GET OUT GET OUT!” She rushed at the door, forcing everyone to back up, then slammed it in their faces. Without turning around, she snarled, “Remy,
what the HELL is wrong with you?”
“Your
boyfriend,” he spat the word like it was poison, “took advantage of MY
GIRLFRIEND!”
“Remy!”
Jubilee shook his arm hard. “We were
broken up! On a break! Not together! I wasn’t your girlfriend!” She gave his bicep a particularly brutal
pinch before shoving herself away from him in obvious disgust. “What happened to all that stuff you said to
me earlier, huh? Was that all bullshit or something?” She shot Kitty a bare glance, not even
looking at Kurt as her gaze swept through the room. “Look at this… you and your
stupid, petty…” She trailed off, letting
out a harsh sigh. “Fuck this. Kitty, I’ll clean this up. It’s my fault. I fucked Kurt and apparently, men have no
free will.” She punctuated her words
with one last, hard shove against Remy’s arm and stalked towards the door.
“Attend,”
Remy barked, his order to wait clear in any
language. “You ain’t givin’
me no benefit of the doubt,” he told her in his
thickening accent. “What I said earlier…
it weren’t a lie mais how do you think I’m gonna feel
‘bout you an’ Kurt?”
“I think,”
Kurt said from the floor, “that I want a do-over. Just go back to day one and start over.”
Kitty
sighed and dropped to kneel beside him. “Kurt…
I’m not going to say that I’m not hurt or jealous or…or pissed as Hell and
wanting to do physical violence right now…” she sighed and stroked his hair,
marshalling her next words carefully as he turned baleful eyes up to meet
hers. “Kurt, we weren’t together when
you slept with her, not for the time in the garden, not for the time in the
greenhouse and not today in the gym.”
Jubilee’s
jaw dropped visibly, an almost comic expression. Scott took the words right out of her mouth,
though. “Dude… the greenhouse? Is that why you developed a sudden interest
in botany last week?” He maintained a
tight grip on Remy’s arm, the Cajun’s muscles tense and hard as steel. “Remind me to hose down the potting bench.”
Kurt stood,
holding on to Kitty’s hand as she rose with him. “Katzchen, I still
love you…”
“I know,”
she sighed, talking to him as if there were no one else in the room. “And you didn’t do anything wrong. But right now, I really don’t want to be lovey dovey with you and Jubilee,”
she paused, shifting to face her friend, “I really want to rip your hair out by
the roots right now so stay away from me for a bit, kay?” She smiled sweetly, the expression not
reaching her eyes.
Remy shook
Scott loose and took a step towards Kitty.
“Chere,” he said hesitantly, venting a harsh
sigh. “I feel like dis
all my fault. I
started it all by how I were treatin’
Jubilation…”
“Just…let’s
all just go to bed and in the morning we’ll deal with it,” Kitty sighed,
looking around her ruined room. “I’m
gonna sleep in Rahne’s room tonight. She’s
got the trundle bed, right?”
Jubilee was
about to reply when a shrill, unrelenting klaxon broke through the still
house. “WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?” she
shouted.
“FIRE ALARM!” Scott replied, covering his ears. “THE HOUSE IS ON FIRE!”
Jean wished
she had not left the infirmary. She
wished she had not left her bed that morning.
Hell, she thought, pressing her forehead to the cool wood of the
downstairs study floor, she wished she had never left her mother’s womb. Her heart was racing, pounding so hard that
she feared she was about to die. A
litany of cardiac issues spewed from the medical student part of her brain,
things that could kill her before they could get her to the hospital, things
that could lay in wait, even after treatment, and kill her when she was forty
and driving her child to school. She was
sweat-soaked, not the cold sweat of illness but the hot, sticky sweat of
exertion. She rolled onto her back and
eyed the desk. The phone was five feet away, three feet up. Her limbs did not seem to be her own, too heavy
for use all of a sudden. She tried to
push herself up and, failing that, she tried to pull along the floor. She would not move. Her body refused. The heat was unbearable, the racing heart now
painful. Voices that she did not know or
own roared through her mind, screaming at her, for her, with her. Her throat
burned raw and it took her a moment to realize it was because she was
screaming, screaming in time with the loud alarm sounding overhead. She could not breathe and she realized it was
because the room was filled with smoke, the oriental
rug under her hands alive with flames. “Help,”
she managed to whisper. “Help me…” Her body arched and bowed as it had earlier, consumed with a fire Jean did not know. Her world turned to flame then, blue and
yellow and purple and gold, enveloping all that she saw, burning through the
voices in her head.
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