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 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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