an original X-Men Movieverse one-shot 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: Alpha Dog
Setting: Right after the Alcatraz fight in X-Men 3: The Last Standing
Rating: R (for language and content)
Warnings: X3 Spoilers. Also, if even the insinuation of rape bothers you, don't read this one.
Author's Note: This isn't fluffy at all. This is cold, hard, not-taking-any-shit-cuz-everyone-I-care-about-is-dead Kitty and John. So in other words, it's quite a bit different from my other Kyro fics.
So they had lost. The X-Men, for all their power and training, had lost. And Jean Grey had nearly killed them all.
Kitty woke up in an empty room and panicked, jumping to her feet and running towards the nearest wall only to find that she couldn't phase through it. She looked around frantically, expecting to see Leech there looking guilty because he was making her powers temporarily disappear. But she was alone.
Until the door opened.
He had dyed his hair some time after leaving, and his boots made him stand a bit taller—which she guessed was the reason he wore such horrendous things—but he still had the same expression on his face that he had always held while going to school with her.
"Hey, Kitten," his tone was casual, but she saw the fire in his eyes, the hatred and anger and spite all gathered over a few years of having that temper fed by none other but Magneto.
It suddenly became quite clear that the X-Men had lost. If they hadn't, John would be dead or locked up and the others would be here to save her by now.
"What did you do to Bobby?" Kitty asked, and with her tone of voice she gave nothing away.
The smirk that crossed John Allerdyce's face was all the answer she needed. Kitty fought back the urge to cry, realizing that she no longer had the luxury of mourning for those she'd cared about. Not here, not now, not ever again. For however long he let her live.
"Funny thing about ice," John started, seeming quite proud as he spoke, "if you hit it hard enough," his smirk grew, "it shatters."
He was trying to get at her, to bite at the last nerve she had left, but Kitty wasn't going to let him. She leaned back against the nearest wall, more to keep standing than anything, and tried to ignore how weak and sore she felt from the battle at Alcatraz.
"It's too bad," she commented, "he could create the ice, not just control it. Maybe you could have learned something from him."
John's face changed instantly from amused to pure revulsion. She honestly thought he was going to puke all over her. Then the moment passed and his cool demeanor returned. "It's something isn't it?" he asked, glancing around at the room. "Government was going to keep us in these," he looked back at her. "Don't know what they did, but it makes our powers useless."
"So the Brotherhood is running the country now too?" She asked, laughing quietly.
"What's so funny?" He asked, glaring at her.
"The idea that you people think you're still in the right here!" She told him with a smile. "I mean, damn, haven't you figured it out yet?" He gave her a questioning look, and Kitty took that as her cue to continue. "You are the bad guys."
He backhanded her so quickly she didn't have time to react, and since she wasn't used to people being able to hit her so easily, the shock alone of the move sent her to the ground. "I fought for our kind, not against it!" He yelled, his voice booming in the tiny room.
Kitty could tell he was surprised as hell when she merely stood back up, without reacting to his slap in any other way. "Our kind?" She scoffed in disbelief. "Are we not people anymore?"
"We're gods." He replied, giving her a dark grin.
"Oh, right," she said sarcastically, and once again he seemed surprised that she was acting so casual.
"Why are you…?" He looked at her a little closer, as if looking for some physical sign as to how she was able to take things so well. "Why aren't you afraid of me?"
At this she laughed outright. "John, I never was afraid of you." Kitty told him.
"DON'T call me that!" He raised his hand to slap her again, but paused when he saw the smile on her face.
"It's your name," she said, speaking each word deliberately slow as she looked right into his eyes.
"Not anymore," he told her quickly. "I'm not the guy you used to know."
"No, you're not," Kitty agreed. "He had at least a little bit of sanity left." She wasn't playing games. This wasn't fun, and she hated it, but she was bitter. War does that to a person.
Kitty Pryde, who had once been the kindest student John had known, was now replaced with the emotionless warrior in front of him who lived to taunt her enemies and would be rebellious to the end.
"I didn't miss you," she said suddenly. "Everyone else was crying and bitching that you'd left, but I never missed you." At this comment he frowned, and her smile only grew.
"Why do you think I would care if you missed me?" He asked.
She just shrugged. "You're pretty self-involved. I know there has got to be a reason you haven't killed me yet, and I figure it's because you want me to pity you so that you can smack me around for caring." Kitty said the words and watched his mouth fall open slightly in surprise. "Don't waste too much time though," she added, "because I don't care at all."
"Don't care?" He asked, smirking, and she knew that he was about to turn things around on her again. "You don't care that I fucking killed Bobby Drake right in front of everyone and they didn't stop to help?" He leaned against the wall with one arm, hand resting right beside her head, so that he could talk right at her. "You don't care that Dr. Grey is the one that helped us win, that she killed Wolverine and the others?"
Kitty's face did not change, and she stared him right in the eyes. She could tell it bothered him that she wasn't afraid of him at all, and inwardly that made her smile. But outwardly she kept the indifferent expression.
"Magneto's giving you a choice." John said suddenly. "I wanted to just fucking kill you," he glanced down at her X-suit in disgust, "but he insists that we can still make you see the truth."
"Giving me a choice?" She laughed. "Just kill me."
"Stop that." He muttered backing away from her to stand near the other wall.
"Stop what?" She asked in challenge.
"Stop not caring."
"Well what do I have to care about anymore?" She asked. "Everyone I cared about or knew is dead, I'm locked somewhere under Magneto's control, and he sent his pathetic lackey to try and talk me into joining him. I have nothing to care about."
"No, you need to care!" He yelled, and Kitty raised an eyebrow in response but said nothing. "Because," he started quietly, looking at her, "because if you don't care, then what's the point in all of this?"
"Well, that's the question, isn't it?" Kitty said. "Why keep fighting when your enemy no longer cares?"
"Shut up." He said, turning his back to her. The way he was standing, she knew he was trying to decide whether to leave the room or stay. He decided to stay, and turned around to face her again. "Do you know why I hated you so much?"
"Please, enlighten me." Kitty said sarcastically.
He ignored the sarcastic tone as he walked over to stand in front of her again. "Because I wanted you." It was obvious that the very idea disgusted him, that it probably always had.
Kitty scoffed. "Why?"
John glared at her. ""You were the one person that I literally couldn't touch, and you were always so fucking happy about it! It pissed me off!" he told her. "I mean, yeah Rogue sucks the life out of people if you touch her, but you…" his eyes narrowed, "you won't let people touch you."
"And that's why I left," he added.
"Oh no," she said shaking her head. "Don't you dare try to blame that on me. You made a choice to leave. You can't live with that now, want a scapegoat? Look in the fucking mirror!" She snapped. "I guarantee what you see will scare the hell out of you."
"You bitch!" He yelled, and this time she actually flinched in response, because it surprised her. "You're in no position to judge me!"
"Thankfully," she told him. "I'd hate to have all that crap on my shoulders." For the second time he raised his hand to smack her, and she merely glanced at it. "Go ahead. Hit me." She urged him.
He looked at her with confusion in his eyes, and she continued, "is that what this is about? You trying to prove you're stronger than me? That you're the fucking alpha dog in all of this? Then go ahead!" She shoved him backwards lightly, and he looked at her in disbelief. "But grow a pair first."
The anger returned to his face so quickly his cheeks turned red. For the first time, Kitty actually felt a little fear that she was truly in danger, because the look in his eyes demanded blood.
"Do you think this is funny?" He asked her. "You, being locked here in this room?"
"Am I laughing?"
He smirked at this response. "Cute." John told her. "Do you want to die?"
"I don't want anything anymore." Kitty answered darkly.
"Well I do." He told her, shoving her back against the wall. "This room," he said, looking around as he held her, pinned against the wall, 'it's really something, isn't it?" He smiled as she struggled. "Can't run through me now, can you?"
She was incredibly weakened from the battle, and even had that not been the case, Kitty knew he could easily overpower her. Yet she kept struggling, because this was one thing she would not allow to happen.
"I'm not going to kill you," John said, speaking into her ear, and in the way he said it she almost thought he was trying to comfort her.
She tried to run to the side and catch him off guard, but his arm stopped her roughly and held her back against the wall. Kitty stopped struggling and looked at him, the very beginnings of tears in her eyes as she realized she couldn't win. "Do this and you won't have to," she told him.
His face changed quite suddenly, and all at once he looked lost. John held onto her wrists for a few more moments, then let them go almost in a jerk and backed away. He looked down at his hands with wide eyes, then back up at her.
"I hate you." John said, before turning and leaving the room.