Make This Last
an original X-Men Movieverse fan fiction
written by: jennifer s. a.k.a. assassinelektra
I do not own the X-Men movies or comics, or their characters. This is a fan fiction story meant only for the enjoyment of myself and other X-Men fans.
Title: Make This Last
Genre: Action/Adventure, Romance, Angst
Setting: Right after The Boy Who Destroyed the World
Rating: R (for possible language)
Author's Note: So here it is, the infamous sequel. I hope I don't disappoint you all! Dun dun dun! Okay, don't hate me for the pairing in this chapter. hides Just finish reading the chapter, and I promise you won't hate me that much. Also, I wrote half of this last night when I was exhuasted, so please excuse any typos and point them out nicely!
slow down, girl
We're moving way too fast for their world
We've gotta make this last
Slow down girl
We're moving way too fast for their world
We've gotta make this last
I know it hurts
to feel so all alone
I'm by myself, more then you could know"
Hawthorne Heights "Decembers"
"I miss you so much, a self-inflicted
The days drag on like marathons running with bare feet
And when I feel the stress, I'm lonely and depressed
I picture you in the dress you wore four weeks ago"
Hawthorne Heights "Decembers"
Emma Frost stared up at the school. The sunlight cascading from newly laid windows hit her blond hair like a spotlight, giving away her presence to anyone within viewing distance. She was not a common sight—especially not in this part of New York.
A millionaire, she spent most of her time buying new things and degrading 'regular people.' But her definition of regular people was slightly different than the media portrayed. A powerful telepath and psionic expert, she was rivaled only by Professor Charles Xavier himself when it came to her mental powers.
She was known to be dangerous, rumored to have affiliated with Magneto's Brotherhood of Evil mutants for a while, as well as attempting to reorganize it after his disappearance. But now she was nothing but an ordinary woman. At least that was how she was going to present herself.
Walking through the front doors with a grace that demanded all present notice her, Emma made her way past the construction—the school still wasn't entirely rebuilt—and towards Xavier's office. She was here for one reason.
She was looking for a job.
Kitty sat behind her desk. It had only been a little over a year since the Professor had returned, and he'd just asked her to do the one thing she had never thought she would be asked. He'd asked her to become a teacher at his new school.
She was young, but no longer a kid. Even Logan had made a comment about how she would be distracting men all over just by walking down the street. No, Kitty Pryde was no kid anymore.
And yet…there were moments where she felt too young for all of this. The fight with the Sentinels had changed them all, but no one as much as Kitty. In that day she'd gotten her first kiss that was worth anything to her, professed her love for someone who she'd hated months before, and single-handedly found the only possible solution that had saved their—most of their—lives.
Now she was a teacher. The school hadn't reopened yet, but the students were moving into their rooms—the Professor had made sure those were built first, even before his own private quarters. And for the first time in nearly two years the place was full of life again.
But her heart was dead.
Warren walked into the room—he had to walk sideways to fit through the new doors with his wings—with a smile on his face, and Kitty couldn't help but smile in return. "What?" She asked. "You've got that look on your face again."
"What look is that?" He asked.
"The one that says you're either about to get me in trouble or make my day." She answered, standing up to walk over to him.
Warren smiled proudly. "I just thought I'd let you know that he's back."
Her heart stopped.
"Really?" Kitty asked, eyes lighting up. And right away Warren realized his mistake.
"Yeah." He replied, though a bit unsure now. "Says the courts agreed to let him stay here under the Professor's watch."
The immediate look of disappointment washed over her face, and Kitty tried to hide it with a forced smile when she realized that Warren hadn't been talking about John at all. Yes, that was what she'd hoped. But day after day of hoping and not hearing a word, she was getting tired of waiting.
"So where is he?" She asked.
"He's in the lobby." Warren replied, and they both headed for the lobby.
"Did he say anything else?" Kitty asked. "Are there any special rules we have to maintain while he's here?"
"Just that he can't leave campus without one of the staff."
Kitty nodded, then her smile returned and she ran forward, wrapping her arms around the handsome figure who stood in the lobby. "I missed you!" She told him, face pulling away from the hug long enough to give him a quick kiss.
He smiled, eyes flickering a bit redder for a moment. "Told ya I'd be back, Chere." He winked at her, and Kitty's smile grew.
"Yeah, but there was the possibility of them locking you away for good, Remy." She pulled away from him, smile still lingering. But she was greatly bothered, because in that moment when Warren had told her he was back, she had hoped it was John and not Remy.
How long had she been with Remy? A month or two, or close to that. And yet things lately had seemed sort of…well, the fireworks were gone. And it was probably because she was still waiting for John to show up.
But he never would.
She'd decided that this realization would mean her survival in the weeks to come. She was going to be a teacher, and her mind needed to be focused on that, not the long lost love of someone she never should have expected to stay put to begin with.
The older woman realized there was no way out. She was going to die, and she was going to die by fire. If the smoke didn't suffocate her first. But there were worse ways to die than asphyxiation. But even worse, the firemen were at least ten minutes away—perks of having your own land in the middle of what little nowhere was left in the state of New York.
Heat that was unbearable bore in against her from all sides, and as she reached for the door handle, her hand jumped sharply back in response to the intense heat it came in contact with.
Then she heard it—the sound of glass not only breaking, but being forcefully shattered. And following the sound appeared a young man, seemingly unaffected by the fire around him. But then the fire wasn't really around him—it was surrounding him, but not touching him. And as he walked towards her it kept its distance, until he was standing next to her, and the heat was suddenly less intense.
"You okay?" He asked, but didn't wait for an answer. He started running, the older woman in his arms as he made his way quickly through the doorway and out into the surrounding clearing. Once a safe enough distance away from the fire, he set her down on the ground and started running back towards the house.
"Wait!" She said, and he paused, glancing back at her. "Don't leave me." She looked so scared, and he groaned in frustration but obliged, standing still where he was. Then he performed a miracle.
The young man held his hands out in front of him, and as he stood there, the fire started to die down until her house was without even the tiniest flame. He turned to look at her as if nothing had just happened, as if this were as natural as a person walking.
"What is your name?" The woman asked, her heart still racing from what she'd just seen.
He looked at her, stared through strands of hair that had broken free during their flight from the house and were now hanging down in front of his eyes. "John." Was all he said.
The old woman clutched her chest above her heart, and for a moment he actually thought she was having a heartache. Then she pulled some prayer beads out of her sweater and started praying in Spanish.
"What are you doing?" He asked, a bit annoyed by her reaction.
"I prayed for help and the Lord sent me a Saint." She replied.
"I'm not a fucking Saint." He muttered as he started walking away. But he stumbled, nearly fell, only barely catching himself.
"Are you hurt?" The woman asked.
He glared at her. "I'm fine." John started walking away again, and this time he did not struggle to do so.
"I heard that after the unfortunate loss of Dr. Grey, that you were hiring, Professor." Emma could have won an Academy award for her performance, she was that convincing. She seemed perfect for the job. But Charles Xavier could not access the deepest reaches of her mind and that bothered him only in the fact that she was keeping him from doing so.
A quick mind scan was not uncommon when he interviewed someone to be hired at the school. He wanted the children to be safe after all. And he hadn't intended to reach those most personal thoughts of hers, but he had brushed past them and noticed their shadowed presence as they were kept from him.
He knew who she was. You couldn't walk down a street without seeing a poster of her in a store window or on the TV. Emma Frost was the ultimate celebrity—rich, blond, and single. But Charles also knew the things she did when the media wasn't watching.
"I know what you must be thinking." Emma said, smiling. "But I really am looking for a new life out here. I want to get away from all the bad press."
Bad press was an understatement.
"You tried to kill one of my current staff when I went to her house to get her as a student." He pointed out.
"You still remember that." She said with a slightly nervous laugh. "Yeah, I've been meaning to apologize to her for years now. And I wasn't actually going to kill her." He just stared at her as she spoke.
And for a moment Xavier actually considered turning her away. But, if he were to keep her nearby, perhaps he could find out what she was up to much quicker. And he knew she had to be up to something.
"Classes begin in a month." He explained. "We hope to have the rest of the school completed by then."
Kitty laid on her bed, trying to fall asleep. But sleep wasn't coming, in fact it was fighting against her. Then she did something she'd been telling herself not to—she phased through the bed and laid there underneath it.
And she smiled at the memories that this brought. Closing her eyes she could almost hear the rain that had fallen almost every day she'd spent with John. And then she opened her eyes again and sighed, sitting up through the bed.
He was gone, and she was supposed to accept it, right?
Kitty stood up, tugging at her pajamas nervously. She needed to talk to Remy, and she needed to talk to him right away.
His door was open, and she walked over to the window, finding him in his usual hiding spot—the branches of the tree right outside of the window. He found peace out there, able to look at the city without actually having to deal with it. And besides, he liked the fresh air. It was much better than the damp air he'd been forced to breathe while in prison.
He smiled, turning to look at her, and flipped the card in his hand. Then, with one quick jump, he was standing in the room next to her. "What brings ya here 'dis time of night, Chere?"
She sighed and looked at the ground, and suddenly Remy knew why she was there. But then she did something he did not expect, she grabbed his face and kissed him. Their faces lingered close for a moment after the kiss broke, and then she took a step back, looking at him, a bit dissapointed.
"Remy, have you ever slept under a bed?" She asked.
And he, thinking this the oddest and most random question she could ask, laughed. " 'dis some kinda kinky invitation?" He asked her.
"I'm serious!" Kitty snapped.
He looked at her for a moment through those red eyes, just taking in the expression on her face, then spoke quietly. "You didn't come here ta' ask me that." Kitty looked at the ground, unsure how to start.
"I…" She looked up at him. "For the last few weeks, things have just seemed…" She paused again. "I mean things between you and I have just felt…"
"Uncomfortable?" He offered, and she was surprised to see the look of understanding that came over his face when she nodded. "Yeah." Remy told her. "I felt it too, Chere." He pulled out a deck of playing cards from an inside pocket of his trenchcoat and started thumbing through them absent mindedly. "Ya'r still in love with him." Kitty's mouth fell open.
"It's okay." He said, smiling at her. "I understand."
"I mean, I like you, but…"
"It's okay." He assured her, giving her a look that said it really was okay. "Ya seem more like a sista' anyway." He winked at her, and she laughed.
"You always kiss your sisters like that?" Kitty asked.
"Chere, you da one that kissed me." He pointed out.
He'd been watching them for a while now through the window. John had seen them laughing and smiling, he'd even seen them kiss. And his first reaction was to throw some flames at the red-eyed bastard. But he was able to control himself as he started towards the front doors of the newly built school.
The place had been built the same—at least as far as outward appearance showed. He sort of wished they had built it completely differently. It just wasn't the same. He relaxed a little when he walked through the doors and found the interior different. It felt…more like home.
Or maybe that was just because he knew she was there.
John knew he hadn't called, written, hell not even tried to contact her in any way since he'd walked away. But he'd only done all those things to make it easier on himself, because the moment he heard her voice, the instant he held anything that reminded him of her, he knew it would break him and he'd be right back to her side.
Only now he had no choice.
He had to see her face at least one more time before she threw him back onto the streets for being such a prick. Though somehow he doubted she would do that—it was just against her nature. She'd taken him in long before they'd become friends even.
Turning a corner, John very suddenly found himself in what served as a living room/gathering place. There was a TV sitting on a table near the corner, and a couple couches. All in all it looked comfortable, a place someone could really live in. You'd almost forget it was a school.
The first one to see him was Winged-Boy, and John wasn't exactly happy about that. He was the reason for the cure after all, which had led to so many different problems, not only in his life but thousands of others.
"Oh, hey." Warren said, a bit surprised to run into John Allerdyce of all people.
"Hey." John replied indifferently. "She around?" He asked, and there was no need to clarify who he was asking about.
"Follow me." Warren turned around, folding his wings tighter against his back as he started walking. And John followed him, neither talking the entire time, as they made their way upstairs towards Remy's room.
He heard laughter on the other side of the door—her laughter. And then Kitty opened the door, and her smile faded as her hand phased through the door handle without her meaning for it to. She opened her mouth but couldn't speak.