Title: A Little While (In A Lifetime)
Fandom: X-Men
Author: Apache Firecat
Characters: Phoenix 2+/Shadowcat
Rating: G/K
Summary: Rachel comforts a new and old friend.
Word Count: 1,089
Written For: Fan FlashWorks 358: Fuzzy
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to their rightful owners, not the author, and are used without permission.







She doesn't know this girl. She's not the Kitty she knows or, rather, the Kate. She's not the strong woman she loved before in her time, in her world. She is but a child, actually younger than she is, but she is a woman also far before her time. She has lost her childhood. She has lost her friends. She's lost her heart.

Rachel can't hear her cries, not aloud, and she isn't using her telepathy. But she can feel her. She can feel her breaking. She can feel her aching, longing for something more, for something greater, for something to make her... whole. Rachel, too, aches for that and has for so very long. Her green eyes are wet with unshed tears as she opens Kitty's unlocked bedroom doors and slips inside her room.

The girl laying on the bed is not the woman she loves, not the one she knew growing up nor the one with whom she fell in love as she helped her through hardships time and again. There are signs all around them in her private bedroom of the woman she grows to be and the girl she is. There are so many things in this room, so many books and plushies and posters Rachel, too, came to love because Kate introduced her to them. There are so many things both of the woman she loved and this girl she doesn't know, at least not yet, not really. They have fought together. They have a budding friendship, even if things between them are understandably change. But they do not truly know each other.

She would like to get to know her, Rachel knows. She would like to get to know her and be friends with her and maybe help her to build a different, a better future than the one in which they did love each other. If she loses her along the way, so be it, but at least the world that she knew will not come to be. At least all those she loved and lost may yet stand a chance of living and of having a actual happy future. Whether or not she is a part of that future, Rachel tries not to care. That's not the important thing: their happiness is what's important.

And right now, her oldest friend, her best friend, even if she isn't, is broken, crying, and wishing, Rachel knows not because she is reading her mind but because she has been there far too many times before herself and also because she knows Kate so well, in some ways better than she knows herself even, wishing she was dying, or already dead. There are a great many losses in this cruel world, Rachel knows, that makes a girl wish they were dead rather than continuing to breathe and thereby to hurt.

Her lips part to speak words, but what words can she speak? Kitty has lost so much, and there is more loss yet to come. She cannot sugarcoat the future. She must one day warn her against it. She must help her, to the best of their abilities, to prevent as much pain in their future as possible. But then, what words are there to be said that will actually ease the pain? None, Ray knows and moves silently toward her bed.

Kitty doesn't look up. She doesn't stop crying. She keeps her face buried in her stuffed dragon and just continues to quietly sob. Her world has been turned upside down and, for the moment, there appears to be nothing good in it. She doesn't scream at Rachel to leave, but then, too, she also does not acknowledge her presence.

Rachel sits on the bed beside her and reaches out, hesitantly stroking Kitty's back like some people might stroke a frightened or wounded animal, or child. Kitty is still a child, and this world has already demanded far, far too much of her. Still, her childhood is better, easier, Rachel knows, than her own was. For several long moments, they just sit, with Rachel's hand stroking Kitty's back, until she finally lays beside the girl.

Kitty still doesn't pull away. Her strokes become longer, and Kitty continues to cry. Silent tears trail down Rachel's cold cheeks. Finally, when her hand is at last becoming tired, she reaches her arm around Kitty and just holds her. And it is then that Kitty's sobs begin to slow, begin to quiet. It is then, in her new friend's arms, that Kitty finally begins to relax. Peace seems impossible at this time, but a quiet ease does steal into the room.

Rachel holds to her friend as the moon rises higher and the waters slosh against the moors outside. She holds to her friend as the night crawls on, and slowly, ever so slowly and quietly, Kitty begins to doze. There is nothing sexual in their embrace nor will there be for quite some time yet to come, but Rachel holds to her. She holds to her as her own tears subside. She holds to her as the pain in both their hearts slowly begins to heal. She holds to her as the light of a new morning begins to touch the darkness outside. Chastely, she brushes her lips across her friend's soft, brown hair. And still she holds to her.

They'll still be like that when Kitty wakes. She still won't know Rachel's future, their future together. She won't know the past Rachel had with the Kitty she knew and loved. There's much they won't know, but there is one thing they will: They have a new friend to whom to hold. And as Kitty wakes with Rachel's arm still around her, her vision and the memories of the battle the night before still fuzzy, she cannot help but to smile. She is warm. She is cared for. Most of all, she is not alone. Maybe there is some goodness left in the world after all.

She hears a snore from behind her. Her smile grows, and she settles back down. There is much to do to repair from last night, and some things that can never be repaired. But for now, she'll sleep a little while longer. She'll let Rachel rest a little while longer. She'll leave the outside world alone a little while longer, and for a little while longer, she'll bask in the warmth and hope and light of this new friendship, a friendship she somehow already, instinctively knows will last a lifetime.

The End