strangetrip | [For Piotr] Avels for All Time

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[For Piotr] Avels for All Time

Anyone who knew her from home would either have been shocked or utterly unsurprised to see Kitty had taken to studying the Old Testament and the Union Prayer Book, at the Inn. The dividing line wouldn't be as clear as old friend versus new, but instead those who understood her faith had always been a part of her and those who'd never been with her when she'd needed to close her fingers around the Star of David she always wore.

Piotr wouldn't be surprised; from her world or his, he would understand completely if she waffled about whether the Mourner's Kaddish was appropriate on the occasion of Wyatt's departure, or the anniversary of Lara's, or today when she came to tell him what she'd learned. He would understand entirely, if she decided to consider them avel, or mourners, not just for the seven days of a proper shiva for the dead, but for all times.

They were always mourning. Always in the midst of one shiva (seven) or another but never staying long enough to sit. Here, now, finally, she thought, sitting was all they did. Sit and marinate in their grief until they were vulnerable and fragile and afraid. The vulnerability and the distraction, these were why the shiva in the first place. An avel couldn't be assumed to have things together and make good decisions. All they were supposed to do was focus on their dead and mourn.

And if their lost weren't dead, Kitty thought it perfectly just to consider them still avel. Which was why she really hated to interrupt Petey while he was happily gathering up bottles and vases from an art lesson, obviously about curves. He hadn't noticed her, and she was reluctant to intrude.

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Piotr was, in fact, in a good mood. Liz was an inspiring student. She had a long way to go, but she was genuinely interested in improving. He wasn't completely sure how he'd made it through the months here before Peter and Liz had reminded him what it felt like to be truly useful.

Lost in such thoughts, he stacked the last of the cups and turned to head towards the kitchen. Seeing Katya stopped him in his tracks. Since coming out of his depression he hadn't been actively avoiding her but they still had not talked much. He'd even gone to the bar when he had found out about Wyatt. Though, when he had arrived, she was with his sister and he had not wanted to intrude.

But now she was here. "Hello, Katya. How are you?"

Stiff. Formal. Was he still upset with her? Did it matter? She sighed and felt the tears well up before she even got words out. She shook her head and pressed her lips together to try to slow the inevitable.

"I've been better." She practically sprinted across the room to him then and wound her arms around his middle. What if he'd been one of the ones who disappeared?

Angry or not, he would never push her away if she was upset. His hand found a place between her shoulder blades, taking up most of her small back, and held her gently. Words would come, but for now, he would just be there.

Because no one else had been able to provide this specific comfort, being held by a man who loved her from sunrise to sunset to the end of the world (probably not even Wyatt, but she wasn't thinking about that right now), Kitty simply held on. If there was one thing that Petey was exceptional at, it was being steady and strong.

After a minute, she looked up, desperately hoping she could be steady and strong for him, too. "I'm sorry for whatever I did to hurt you." That had to be it, because he wouldn't stay angry over something small. "I really am. If you want to talk about it, we can, but there's something I need to tell you--" A flash of insight made her add, "Don't worry, it's not about Yana."

As they stood there, he couldn't stop the panic from building deep in his stomach. What if it had finally happened, what if the other shoe had finally dropped? What if Yana was gone? Before he knew it, the blizzard that had covered his walls for those weeks started to manifest in his mind again as he thought. Luckily, it was buried deep enough that no one would be able to see it the extent of his fear, not even her.

Lost in his swirling thoughts, he missed everything she said except the last sentence. "She is still here, yes?" There was still so much he hadn't told her.

"She is. She's fine. For Yana, she's even reasonably happy. I promise," Kitty assured him and rubbed a hand over his forearm to steady him. Of course, that panic twigged her to what he'd probably been upset about and she suppressed a sigh. It wouldn't be fair to apologize now, deal with her guilt, when she'd come for him, to make sure there was someone to hold him when he learned his lover, even a casual lover, was gone.

"Good. That is good," he nodded. An awkward silence fell over them as he looked down to his hands and smothered his unnecessary panic. Eventually, he gestured toward a couch on the far end of the room. "Would you like to sit?"

Kitty nodded and offered him her hand. Holding hands was usually a good way to keep him grounded. She could always sit in his lap if he lost it completely. "You breathing again?"

He looked at her outstretched hand and his heart clenched in his chest. A part of him desperately wanted to take it. Forgiving her would make things so much easier but he wasn’t ready to do that yet. As selfish as it seemed, he still felt betrayed.

But he did not want to seem petty, so he took her offered hand gently and made his way over to the couch.

“I am,” he almost smiled, but it did not make it all of the way to his lips. “Though I do not actually need to do so. I would just eventually turn to metal and be fine.”

"Yeah, yeah." Kitty nudged him lightly with her elbow. "I know. In Russia, the air breathes you." That didn't make any sense, but Russian reversal was the kind of dumb tradition they'd had forever in her world.

"Listen, Petey. There's no easy way to say this. It's going to suck no matter how I say it. So I'm just going to say it, and then we can deal with the suck, okay?" She didn't wait for him to answer. Just said, "Mac's gone. He checked out today."

"Until government decides differently." Flashes of a firing squad danced through his mind before he could push them away.

His dark mood only blackened further as she spoke. His sister was still here but Mac was gone. He knew that he should feel more sorrow. After all of the death he'd seen in his life, this did not have same the weight.

"Светлая ему память." He rumbled. It seemed a fitting phrase for someone who had spent so much time in darkness.

"Светлая ему память," Kitty repeated and then, in English, offered a slightly altered version of the phrase. "Bright be his memory, Petey."

She hugged him again and rested a hand over his heart. "I'll help you remember him any time you want." When sitting shiva, it was best not to ask if someone needed help. It was best to assume they did and help without being asked. "Tell me something that you liked about him."

Piotr did not respond to her hug, his arms remaining heavy at his sides. Maybe there was no point in getting close to anyone anymore. Sooner or later everyone left.

Her question pulled his attention, “Mac does -did- not mind when I would be quiet. He would not press me for long answers.” Piotr shrugged, “We spent a lot of time in silence, but that did not bother him.”

That would be important to Petey, she knew. Talking was hard, had been especially hard for this Piotr, since he arrived here. She didn't know if it was because he was gay or the imprisonment or because she was dead in his world, or something else. Whatever it was, someone who could sit with him in quiet would be missed.

"Was he artistic too?"

"Artistic? No," Piotr shook his head, "He came from very harsh world where there was no place for art."

He could remember how self-conscious Mac got when he found out that Piotr had sketched him. "He did not understand how I could find such peace in it."

"Were you ever able to explain or show that to him?" To Kitty, it seemed that would be a significant obstacle in their relationship. Art was so important to Piotr, like dance for her. Even more so.

"I tried, but I do not know if it was effective." Piotr shrugged, "But I could not understand how using a firearm could bring him such joy, either."

Kitty didn't understand how Piotr could have found such peace with someone who loved firearms, either, but considering no one seemed to understand what she had seen in Wyatt, she didn't judge.

"I knew what you liked in a partner when the you I knew was straight," Kitty said thoughtfully. "But I have no idea what you want in a man."

"In my life, I have not had much opportunity to be picky," He shrugged, "I do not expect that my taste in men is much different than was with women. The only man I ever dated was Jean-Paul Beaubier, Northstar. Was he in your world? "

"Yes, I know Northstar." Not well, but he had, at various points, made himself difficult to miss. Which argued for a guy with self-confidence and strong sense of self-worth. "What was he like in your world?"

"He was stubborn, brash, sometimes obnoxious," Piotr couldn't stop the small smile that blossomed across his face. It felt a bit crass to have butterflies blossoming in his stomach for his ex-boyfriend when he should be mourning Mac, but he couldn't help it. "But was charming, witty, confident, and sincere under all the bluster."

"That sounds like the Northstar I knew," Kitty said with a small, matching grin. She wouldn't have picked them for a pair, but she could see the appeal, especially for a quieter guy like Petey. "Never one for hiding his light under a bushel, Jean-Paul Beaubier."

"It was not never, in my world," Piotr's grin faltered, "He was different after he overdosed on Banshee and was paralyzed."

Kitty's face fell with his. "That would be terrible for him. A speedster who couldn't move. I'm sorry."

"He, he found a way to smile through it," Piotr rumbled, smiling fondly, "Even used it to convince me to stay away from the drug. But it was end of our relationship. He needed time alone to heal."

Piotr wasn't bitter. It had been the right decision, though it had hurt to make it. "I always thought we'd eventually find each other again. But then the world went to hell."

Piotr still rarely talked about the world he'd come from. He never talked about his feelings. So Kitty paid close attention, committing the moment, his tone, and his words to memory to consider later. But right now, what came together for her was that he'd lost the men he loved through no control of his own--

Click.

Another piece of an impossible puzzle.

Kitty sighed and leaned up to kiss his cheek. "I'm sorry, Petey. I'm sorry we didn't tell you what we were doing with the shackles. We should have." There had been too many cooks as it was. Illyana hadn't wanted him there. He wasn't Yana's Piotr, or hers, and they weren't his. But in the end it didn't matter. They were the Kitty and Yana he had, and he was the Petey they had. "I'm sorry. About Jean-Paul, about Mac, about not giving you a chance to say goodbye. All of it."

"Thank you, Katya," He accepted her kiss and her apology, smiling just slightly, "And I am sorry that I did not react well."

He looked away from her and out a nearby window, "Illyana told me I should not leave so many things unsaid. It is hard for me but I want to try," he paused an brought his eyes back to her, "I could have lost both of you and I am not too proud to say that that terrifies me. Losing Mac, even losing Jean-Paul, those are small hurts compared to what I would feel if it had been either of you."

He knew that it would be silly to ask her never to put herself in harm's way. He would never want that. Helping people was what they did and that meant risking their lives. It was something he'd come to terms with a long time ago, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt to think about. Bringing his hand up, he cupped her cheek gently, "The next time you plan to do something that could get you killed, if there is time, please at least let me hug you first?"

Edited (spelling error) 2018-05-07 04:49 (UTC)

"It's hard for all of us," she said as she turned her face to kiss his fingers. Once, even so small a gesture would've sent her heart racing. This was one of the things that had changed with this Petey. She loved him still, just not romantically. Wrinkling her nose slightly, she added, "Slicing open an abscess hurts like hell, but not draining it hurts worse. Besides, Yana and I are not telepaths. If you help us a little, we can help you even more."

She took his hand from her cheek and threaded their fingers together. His was so much bigger that the effect was very nearly comical. "And I do promise, if we're risking our lives knowingly and there's time, hugs first."

"I will take your word for it, I have never had abscess," he gave her a small smile to show that he was joking. He'd been around too many farm animals to not understand the meaning behind her words. "I do miss having telepath around. Did I ever tell you it was Jean who convinced me to join X-Men in my world?"

He looked down at her hand and smiled more broadly. It looked so delicate, but he knew that it could fight just as well as his. "Thank you, Katya. That is all I ask."

"Of course, Petey." She flashed him a warm, sweet smile and then settled back on the couch. "And no, you have not told me about Jean or any of the others. If you want to now, I don't have anywhere I need to be." At least, she didn't have anywhere more important to be.

"I was in New York City as security for Bratva deal. It went bad and they started shooting. By the end, I was surrounded by dead bodies on pier and my cover ruined. Then Jean appeared from nowhere. First thing she said to me was 'I know what you're thinking. You are not alone. Welcome to the X-Men, honey.' Then she hugged me and we left before Sentinels could find me" It was hard remembering that moment. The hope he'd felt, the joy of being free from the mafia and being welcome into a place where he could be himself. "It was just Scott, Jean, Hank, Ororo and me in beginning."

"Scott, Jean, and Ororo are almost always there at the beginning. It doesn't seem to matter what world it is," Kitty observed with a knowing warmth. "I think they have to be for us to be the X-Men."

Because there wasn't really anything else to say in the face of his memories, strong and good, and bittersweet, Kitty said, "I know what you're thinking. You're not alone. Welcome to the X-Men, honey," and then hugged him. She wasn't Jean, they weren't the X-Men, but he definitely wasn't alone.

Sometimes there was too much dissonance in his mind when he thought too much about their oddly overlapping worlds, but today that didn't seem to be the case.

He rested his head on her shoulder as they hugged. There was a part of him that believed her, like he had with Jean, but it could not overshadow that feeling of black core of loneliness that had followed him since he had been exiled. He had a place here at the Inn and a growing purpose, but it still did not feel like home. But her words did help immensely. Kissing her lightly on the cheek, he gave her a small smile, "Thank you, Katya. You are not alone, either."

[ooc: wrap!]

[ooc:sounds good!]

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[For Piotr] Avels for All Time

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