Aug. 9th, 2007

prydeful: (Damaged)
Kate doesn’t dislike Kaylee. Kaylee exasperates her and she’s not sure she’ll ever like her enough to be more than friendly at best, to be friends, but she doesn’t dislike her. And even if she did, she’d still be grieving for Kaylee today.

When Kate was sixteen and still called Kitty, Moira started adding things to her physical. Fertility tests were one of t hose things; the more mutants that were studied, the more it was discovered that there were more difficulties than normal involved with conception. That was when Moira told her about the potential effects of phasing on the reproductive system. Or, more importantly, on a fetus. She ran simulations, and Kitty watched without entirely understanding them—she understands genetics, but never studied biology beyond certain areas—and listened to the results. The odds of miscarriage, she learned, if phasing occurs during a pregnancy, are around 7 in 9.

So she would just have to not phase, Moira said, like it was always going to be that simple, and both Kitty and Moira knew as the older woman said it how hard that would be for her. Because “just not phasing “is like “just not breathing”, in some ways. Kate tried it in the prison because she had no other choice, and as she sits on her bunk now, knees pulled to her chest and watching Heed stalk about the room, she thinks she’d rather not breathe. (She wants a baby someday. She knows Piotr does. She’s always known both of those. But. But. But.)

Kate’s playing with her hair—it’s longer, now, than it’s been in a while—and thinks on Val falling down in the bar. Of taking her to the doctor, and the stupid, stupid girl leaving when she did. Thinks on emergency rooms and ultrasounds and nothing-more-you-can-dos. Thinks on Susan Pevensie, as they shopped for lingerie, and learning about losing a baby fifty years and another world ago.

Thinks about how she’s had sex since she was 17, and sometimes she’s not entirely sure she’s never been pregnant. Because she phases, every day, and so she could have been and never known. Just because it ended so soon.

That thought terrifies her.

Kate plays with her hair, and thinks on Piotr and how he loves family, thinks on how there aren’t enough mutants and every new birth is a gift to be celebrated. Thinks on words like “mom” and “dad” and “pregnant” and “birth” and “blood” and thinks on a little girl with black hair and hazel eyes and artistic hands and dancing feet. Thinks on the odds that she’ll ever see a baby who looks like that and speaks Russian and English both. And she’s thinking on Kaylee, and she’s grieving for Kaylee.

But when she starts crying, she can’t say Kaylee’s the one she’s crying for.


Kate Pryde | Shadowcat

July 2016


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