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Laura knocks on the door to the apartment and steps back, waiting. Paint flakes, dislodged by her knocking drift gently down to the floor. The corridor is deserted at midday, silent to the average human ear, but she can hear the buzz of the florescent lights overhead, hear the muffled drone of a television set a floor down, quiet voices in one of the apartments on this floor, and the shuffling sound of footsteps approaching the door she stands in front of. Three heartbeats inside.
She rocks on her heels as she listens to the sound of the latch being turned, security chain being dislodged. The plastic handles of the carrier bag dig into her left hand. Her heartbeat is accelerated, palms sweating slightly, and she does not know why. She hopes it was acceptable to bring food. She hopes it was okay to come.
The door swings open revealing the face of Bobby Soul. He look at her without recognition, suspicion on his gaunt, tired features. “An' who're you?”
Laura was not prepared for this possibility. She finds herself struggling for words, as though by coming back to New York she's been transported back through time to the mute, traumatised version of herself she'd been then. “It's... I'm,” she says, faltering.
“Laura, is that you?” A familiar voice calls, and a few seconds later the owner follows, appearing in the doorway, peering round Bobby Soul, who is still studying Laura warily.
Kiden beams, face brightening, and it's like a ray of sunlight in that dark and dreary hallway. “Laura!” she says, pushing Bobby out of the way to step into the hallway and wrap her arms around Laura, who stands awkwardly within the thankfully short embrace, arms pinned helplessly to her side. It's not like she couldn't break out of the hug if she wished; years of living on food fished out of the garbage has not granted Kiden a great deal of physical strength, but uncomfortable as the hug is, Laura cherishes it.
“Bobby, get outta the way,” Kiden orders, dragging Laura by the hand into the hallway. “It's Laura, Bobby, you remember Laura.”
“Yeah, sure,” Bobby says uneasily; it's clear he does not remember, and that means his memory has deteriorated further since Laura last saw him. Laura feels a stab of pity; as awful as most of her memories are, she would not like to lose them.
“So, what are you doing here, Laura?” Kiden asks, pulling Laura after her into the living-room of the apartment. Laura doesn't answer, unsure of what to say. Instead she looks around the room. It's a small, mostly bare room, with a patched couch and an old-looking TV making up the sum total of furniture in the room. Lil' Bro is sat on a rug on the floor, surrounded by scattered, colourful wooden blocks which he does not seem to be particularly interested in. A small, mangy ginger kitten is curled up next to him, another black kitten playing with a bottle lid nearby.
“Tatiana,” Kiden says, following Laura's stare. “Still bringing home strays. Y'know, once they stopped trying to eat her.”
“Yeah, well she better not bring back any more,” Bobby grumbles, crouching down to check on Lil' Bro, big, scarred hands gentle as he picks his kid brother up. “We don't need any more alleyrats bringin' fleas in this apartment, biting Lil' Bro.” He continues to grumble, fussing Lil' Bro, who seems unperturbed either by this or by any fleabites. The child turns his head slowly to observe Laura, and Laura gets caught in his unblinking gaze.
“Ah, chill out Bobby,” Kiden says, flinging herself onto the couch carelessly. “Lil' Bro's fine. They're company for him.”
Bobby doesn't agree, but places Lil' Bro back down on the ground and sits next to him. “If I see a scratch on him, they're out,” he says warningly.
“Yeah, yeah,” Kiden says, sounding bored. It sounds like an old argument they've had before. “Laura, sit down.”
“I will stand if Bobby wants to sit,” Laura says stiltedly, trying to remember the protocol of politeness people have been trying to instil in her ever since she started going to various schools, but Bobby waves a hand dismissively.
“I'm fine where I am, you sit.”
Laura sits obediently, perching on the edge of the couch.
Kiden laughs. “You look like you're going to make a run for it again. Sit back, Laura, you only just got here, and you still haven't told us what you're doing here.”
Laura sits back a little, tries to feel comfortable here. “I thought I'd come visit.” The words feel clumsy in her mouth. She looks down, lets her hair fall over her face, suddenly wishing she had not bothered to come, that she had stayed at the Academy even though nobody really wants her there. She should be used to that by now, it's the same everywhere.
She feels a gentle nudge, Kiden's foot against her ribs, and looks up. Kiden is watching her, expression half-exasperated, half-fond. “You know you're welcome here, right? No need to have an aneurysm over it, you dork.”
Laura hesitates, then nods gratefully. The words are teasing but friendly. Kiden is not laughing at Laura. Kiden does not mind that Laura is strange, that Laura does not know when she is welcome. Kiden knows what it is like to not be welcome, to not belong. “Thank you,” she says quietly.
Kiden waves a hand dismissively. “For what? We haven't done anything, 'cept let you sit on our crappy couch. I'd offer you a drink or something to eat, but it isn't like we've got anything in.”
“That's right,” Bobby cuts in, and Laura had almost forgotten about him and Lil' Bro, sat silently on the floor together. “We don't have enough to go around already, so if you've come here looking for a place to stay, you're gonna have to pitch in. We've already got enough free-loaders around here.” The last part of the sentence is clearly not aimed at Laura.
“Hey!” Kiden says, annoyed. “Watch who you're calling a free-loader, if it weren't for me we wouldn't eat most nights.”
“'Stead, most nights we eat trash,” Bobby mutters.
“At least we're eating,” Kiden says, eyes narrowed, lips pouty. “I'll remember this next time I find a box of donuts that were barely stale.” She turns to Laura, says earnestly, “Don't mind him anyway, Laura. You need a place to stay, you're always welcome here. You can always crash in me and Tatiana's room, there's not space for another mattress but if you don't mind sharing or the floor -”
“I'm not staying,” Laura interjects. It's... gratifying the way Kiden's face falls slightly, the disappointed edge to her words as she shrugs.
“Okay then. Well, guess that isn't a problem after all.”
“I brought food,” Laura offers, wanting to see Kiden enthusiastic again.
It works. Kiden's face lights up and she dives for the carrier bag, crowing with glee as she rapidly empties its contents out on the floor.
Laura had brought the basics; bread, plenty of canned food, pasta, food that would last. Some fresh food, vegetables, fruit. Things the body needed. Practical things. She'd also included some cookies and soda, even though there was no justifiable reason to do so; they had little nutritional value, no vitamins or any of the other things that Kiden and the rest needed so badly, but still she had picked them up and paid for them. Just because you could go without, did not mean you had to. That was something Laura was still slowly learning herself.
“Damn girl,” Bobby says, but even he is grinning, picking up the breakfast cereal that Laura knows is Lil' Bro's favourite.
“Yeah, Laura, what'd you do? Rob a grocery store?” Kiden laughs, ripping opening a packet of oreos and stuffing three in her mouth.
“No,” Laura says, although she is aware Kiden is not being serious. Laura feels herself smiling, and an unfamiliar warm sensation filling her chest. “I paid for it.”
“Yeah?” Kiden asks, spraying Laura with crumbs as she chews open-mouthed. “Nice. You got a job or something? Uh, not like your last one, right?” There's a hint of caution in Kiden's voice as she looks at Laura, but no condemnation, only concern.
Laura feels another surge of warmth, and answers Kiden. “No, I am not selling myself any more.” Laura hesitates, unsure of how to explain where life has taken her. “I... have a father.” It is not true, not precisely. Wolverine is not her father, even if he has said he will be. Laura does not know much about families, but she knows they are not one, not really. She thinks, wistfully, that he is trying in his own way. It is hard for him, she knows. He did not ask for this, she knows. She did not ask for it either.
“Really?” Kiden asks, raising an eyebrow. “Huh. I didn't realise you had a family.”
The words are neutral, but Laura hears the slight change in tone, even if she doesn't know what it means. It's frustrating: being able to hear every slight modulation in tone, catch every micro-expression, every change in scent, yet she still does not know what these things mean. Laura stays quiet, watching Kiden.
“That's cool, really,” Kiden says, tucking the blonde strands of her hair behind her ears. Avoiding eye-contact, Laura realises. “So what, you living with your pops now? Is that why you just up and vanished?” The edge to Kiden's words is obvious enough that Laura can recognise it now.
Laura, as she so often is, is lost for words.
“Ah, Kiden, lay off.” Bobby says, speaking up unexpectedly. “That's not fair, and you know it.” Laura would not have expected him to come to her defence; he barely knew her, after all. “If she got family, then you can't blame her for getting out of here.” His gaze lingers on his little brother, and Laura watches his tired eyes warm.
Kiden picks at the threads in the tears in her jeans, mouth down-turned. “There's nothing wrong with here.”
Bobby snorts. “Yeah, keep tellin' yourself that.”
“We're here,” Kiden protests fiercely, sitting up and glaring. “We're here, and we're together. We're family, Bobby Soul and don't you dare deny it. Not after all the shit we've been through.” She holds his gaze, and something passes between them. Laura can't parse the emotions; the wordless, voiceless communication they share.
Bobby looks away first. “You know it,” he says gruffly.
Laura feels lost, more out of place than she normally does. An uncomfortable sensation sliding under her skin, like ice in her veins, separating her from the rest of the world in slow degrees. Sometimes she feels so distant from them, so distant from herself. “I should go.” She starts to move.
“Wait!” Kiden grabs her by the wrist. Laura freezes instinctively, instincts flaring up. She takes a long, slow breath, tasting the scents. There's no aggression, there is no need to fight. “Don't go.” Kiden's voice is low, coaxing. “I was just being stupid, okay? It's cool you have a dad.” Kiden gives Laura a wide, toothy grin that doesn't quite reach her eyes. “I'm happy for you, really. It's just a lot of heavy stuff went down when you weren't around.”
Kiden's tone is filled with implications that Laura can't decipher, but which leave her uneasy nonetheless. Laura looks at Kiden properly, takes in the new scars; pale, white and faded but still visible under Kiden's faint tan. Her stomach flips, a familiar emotion stirring in the pit of her stomach. “You were hurt.” Laura says flatly. She feels a surge of anger that surprises her in its intensity, that makes her claws prickle under her skin. “I should have been there. I should have stopped them from hurting you.”
“That's not what I was saying,” Kiden protests, mouth twisting like she's torn between smiling and frowning. “Jeez, Laura. Don't beat yourself up. We did all right by ourselves. We're not totally helpless, you know.”
“You are relatively helpless,” Laura says. Her words come out slightly faster than normal. It is hard to think objectively. “Your mutant power is strong, but you are not used to combat, and you often act without thinking.”
“Don't hold back,” Kiden says. “God, Laura.” Her expression is still strange, but she smiles and pulls Laura back down onto the sofa. Her hand is still wrapped round Laura's wrist, and the confinement that should irk is somehow comforting.
“It is true,” Laura says.
“Yeah, well, you don't have to say it,” Kiden says, grinning properly this time.
“Way to make us feel useless,” Bobby mutters.
“That was not my intention,” Laura says stiffly.
“We're teasing you,” Kiden tells her, tugging gently on a stray lock of Laura's hair.
It always amazes Laura how effortlessly and uninhibitedly open Kiden is with her small gestures of affection. Part of her wants to shrink away from the casual touches; Kiden's thigh pressed against her's, her fingers against Laura's skin, tangled in Laura's hair. She has learnt to expect pain from people's touch, that the people who reach out for her do so because they want to crush her, to rip and rend her flesh and leave her in tatters. Yet, she trusts Kiden. It was Kiden who saved her when she was low and alone. It was not the X-Men, not Captain America and Daredevil, those heroes of men. It was Kiden who had reached out and had protected Laura, had rescued Laura, had never blamed Laura or cared what Laura had done, that Laura was unworthy of being rescued. Part of Laura craves the contact, wants to lean back into Kiden, to relax against her side, wants more of that easy, open affection that Kiden gives without expecting anything in return. Laura is used to wanting. What she is not used to is acting on those wants. Gambit would smile, and call her petite and tell her to stop being so serious. Laura is still not sure how to do that.
“Chill, Laura,” Kiden says, as if reading Laura's mind. “We're good.”
Laura looks at Kiden, takes in the freckles and smudge of dirt on Kiden's left cheek, at the way the sunlight hits Kiden's hair. “We're good,” she repeats.
“So where are you living now anyway? With your dad?” Kiden asks, watching Bobby pet one of the kitten surreptitiously.
“No,” Laura replies. She hesitates, trying to think out to explain. “I am at a school.”
“School?” Kiden's nose wrinkles, and she snorts inelegantly. “Sorry. Just having a hard time picturing that. You seem like you'd be as happy at a school as me. Sure you don't want to move back in?”
“It is not an ordinary school,” Laura says, although her experience of ordinary schooling is limited. She falls silent for a moment, gathering her words. It is not that she likes school; her experience with the X-Men had shown her that even among those who are supposedly outsiders she is an anomaly. The Academy is new, and she is not sure how well she is fitting in. At least they understand that she does not belong in a place like that full time. “There are others there, with powers.”
“Like us?” Kiden asks.
Laura shakes her head. “No.” There is no one like us, she thinks. Kiden is right. Laura does not belong there, she belongs nowhere. Kiden is like her; neither of them really have homes. This apartment, with its bare walls and junky, salvaged furniture is not a home, its a temporary refuge, shelter that an animal takes.
“Didn't think so,” Kiden says, stretching, smile on her lips. “So where is this lame-ass school of yours?”
“California,” Laura replies.
There's a thump as Kiden's foot slips of her leg and hits the floor. Bobby is staring, mouth open. Kiden turns to Laura, eyes wide. “Dude, you came all that way to see us?”
“Yes,” Laura says, feeling her cheeks flush although she is not sure why. From Bobby and Kiden's reactions she has done something unexpected once more. They are still looking at her, as if they cannot comprehend someone travelling that distance. “I wanted to see you,” she says simply.
Kiden stares, but there's a flush of pink to her skin that matches Laura's own. Suddenly, she looks away, tucking her hair behind her ears. “That's – that's, wow.” She laughs a little, but she still looks stunned. “How did you get here? Bus?”
“I drove,” Laura says, watching Kiden.
“You got a car?” Bobby sounds surprised. “Hell, if I'd have known that, I'd have asked you to move in myself.”
“Not a car,” Laura corrects. “A motorbike.”
“A motorbike?!” Kiden sounds thrilled. “Dude, that is so cool. You have to give me a ride.”
“Okay,” Laura says, feeling a small smile tug at the corners of her mouth.
That sounds... enjoyable. She likes riding, likes the feel of the wind in her hair, the sun on her back, likes the freedom of the endless roads of America in front of her. She likes road trips. She liked her road trip with Gambit, enjoyed the company, someone who could show her how to appreciate the journey, that life was not a mission and that you had to take time to just be. She likes travelling alone too, likes not being accountable to anyone, going to towns where she doesn't stay longer than it takes to buy gas and food, where people look at her but don't know her. She likes sleeping under the stars, likes hearing the wolves howl to each other at night, hearing the thunder rolling over the plains. It is hard to imagine Kiden outside of New York, but Laura allows herself to wonder if Kiden would ever come down with Laura to the West Coast for a visit. They could all come; Bobby, Lil Bro, Tatiana. Her friends. She tries to imagine them on the beach, surfing as she has watched the children at the Academy do, or swimming or playing in the sand. Somehow she cannot picture it.
She stays the night. Tatiana comes home later that evening, with scraps for the cats and a bag of groceries. She seems pleased to see Laura and even more pleased with the addition Laura's made to the apartment's store of food. She cooks while Kiden and Bobby and Laura set the living room up for dinner, which means moving Lil Bro's untouched toys to a corner of the room and fetching some storage boxes out of Kiden's room to use as tables. The food is simple, and there isn't quite enough, but somehow it tastes better than any of the carefully prepared and nutritionally balanced meals provided at the Academy. Over dinner, the others talk and laugh; they all look tired and too fragile, but they seem happy. Laura watches, content to sit in the warm glow of conversation and friendship. Kiden does the washing-up and Bobby goes to bathe Lil Bro, leaving Tatiana and Laura alone in the living room.
Tatiana lies back on the couch, feet pulled up. She looks weary; she works long hours, and Laura can smell the exhaustion and anxiety that clings to her, the scent that comes with living constantly on the edge of absolute poverty, that comes with being a minority that is hated and feared. The last rays of the dying summer light casts shadows against her skin, making her look older than she is. Eyes closed, Tatiana says quietly, “She missed you, you know.”
Laura doesn't respond. Tatiana doesn't seem to expect her to.
“She wouldn't say it, but she did. Didn't help that we ended up losing Ms Cameron,” Tatiana's lips twist as if sucking on a lemon. “Not that that was anyone's fault, whatever Kiden says. Still, that and not knowing where her mom and her brothers are... that girl has had enough of people walking out of her life.”
Laura stays quiet, but she is listening.
“I mean, me? I know where my mom is. I know exactly how much she doesn't want me. And yeah, that hurts, but at least I know, you know?” Laura does not know, not entirely. Tatiana sighs, and looks at Laura directly. “Look, what I'm saying is, don't run off without telling us where you're running to, okay?”
“I... will try,” Laura says falteringly, meeting Tatiana's gaze. “It did not occur to me that people would want to know. I am... not used to that.”
“Yeah, I kinda got that,” Tatiana says, and she smiles, then closes her eyes and relaxes back onto the couch. A comfortable, easy quiet falls. Laura can hear the clink of dishes and sloshing of water from the kitchen where Kiden's washing up, hear the low murmur of Bobby as he puts his brother to bed, the sounds of Tatiana's breathing evening out as she slips into a doze, kittens purring in soft piles of fluff around her. The sun sets, and Laura sits in the growing shadows, listening.
“Laura? You okay?”
Laura turns to see Kiden silhouetted in the doorway. “I am fine.” She is not sure if she could explain what she is doing, or why she is enjoying it.
“You're just sitting there in the dark,” Kiden says, but she doesn't seem to care. A moment of hesitation and she slips silently over to sit next to Laura, pulling her knees up to her chest and leaning her chin on them. A couple of minutes pass quietly by. Laura can smell Kiden. It's not an entirely pleasant smell, given Kiden's main recreational activity is dumpster diving, but it's not wholly unappealing, and Laura has smelt worse. Logan, for example, does not have a particularly fragrant smell; he stinks of beer and old sweat, and an odd, musky, animal scent. Gambit and Jubilee had both smelt respectively of aftershave and perfume, probably pleasantly to other people, but to Laura the smells had been sharp and chemical and caught in her nose. Kiden's smell, while strong, is at least natural and distinctly hers. In the dark, in the relative quiet, it is an easy sensation to focus on, and Laura becomes hyper-aware of their proximity.
She hears the faint exhalation, the soft sound of Kiden's lips parting before she speaks. “It's nice, huh?” Kiden is talking softer than usual, her normal energy muted but not dulled.
“Yes,” Laura agrees quietly.
Kiden smiles lazily, tilting her head to regard Laura out of half-closed eyes. “I'm glad you came back.”
“I am also glad,” Laura replies, looking back. They sit in quiet, and Laura feels something like contentment, until Bobby comes and asks them what the hell they're doing sitting in the dark, god Kiden, the electricity hasn't run out yet.
After that, they wake Tatiana up and she stumbles to the bedroom her and Kiden share. Laura goes to take her place on the couch, but pauses as Kiden calls after her.
“Laura, you can share with me if you want.” Kiden seems oddly hesitant, heartbeat fast enough to indicate nerves.
Laura freezes at the unexpected offer, then shakes her head quickly. “I am okay on the couch,” she says politely, retreating into formalities. The thought of lying next to Kiden in the dark makes her heart race in a way that's close to fear.
“Okay,” Kiden says, shrugging. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” Laura replies, watching as Kiden heads to the bedroom, an odd pang of disappointment hitting her as the door swings shut. She moves to the couch, gently displacing the kittens who mew at her in tiny voices of animal indignation, and lies down, staring at the ceiling. It is impossible not to listen, to not hear Kiden slipping into bed, to hear Tatiana's breathing and the sounds of Bobby stirring restlessly. Lil Bro is quiet, but she hears his heartbeat, steady as a metronome. Outside this apartment, this temporary island of calm, she can hear the sea of people that populate the streets of New York at night, hear the cabs honking, and the sounds of bass music thumping, ambulance and police sirens wailing through the night to distant emergencies. The sounds are different to the noises of the night in the Academy, where she can always hear the sea crashing against the shore once everyone has finally fallen quiet.
Eventually, even with the noise, Laura falls asleep. Her sleep is quiet, peaceful, for once free of nightmares. The next morning she wakes, back stiff from lying awkwardly but rested, and sits up, accidentally awakening the kittens who at some point during the night had curled up next to her. She pets them cautiously, with the greatest gentleness she can summon, wanting them to stop their crying. They are soft and fragile, so trusting and oblivious to the ease with which she could kill them. It takes a couple of minutes to placate them, and by the time they are happy Bobby is awake and leaning in the doorway, watching her gingerly stroke them.
He smiles ruefully when she looks at him. “They are cute, aren't they? Don't tell Kiden or Tatiana I said that though, we don't need more mouths to feed.”
Laura is saved from having to reply by the entrance of Kiden, clad in an over large t-shirt and some worn looking boxer shorts, who stumbles sleepily past Bobby to sit heavily on the couch. She dangerously (in Laura's opinion) disregards the kittens, who narrowly avoid being sat on.
“Mornin' to you too,” Bobby says, grinning.
Kiden grunts in response.
Bobby shakes his head. “Imagine if you had to get an actual job Kiden, and get up at a respectable hour.”
Kiden glares and responds, voice rough from sleep. “You're not one to talk about respectable, Bobby. Last time I checked breaking and entering isn't a real job.”
“That's all in the past,” Bobby says, getting defensive.
“Please guys, if we could not argue first thing,” Tatiana says, exiting the bedroom. Unlike Kiden, she's fully dressed and looks bright-eyed and alert.
Kiden and Bobby eye each other grudgingly, but Tatiana distracts them by cooking breakfast, which they hungrily devour. Once they're done eating, they start getting ready for the day. Tatiana gets her bag and sorts through things, readying herself for a shift at a grocer's. Bobby goes to see to Lil Bro, and even Kiden pulls on some battered old sneakers.
Laura sits, still amidst their bustle. They have a routine, of which she is not part. She knows they'd be willing to let her become a part, even if the apartment would be even more crowded, but she doesn't know how will she would fit. What could she do? She would have to make money, and the only paid work she'd ever done was prostitution. There are other jobs she could get, but somehow when she tries to picture it, she comes up blank.
“Hey Laura,” Kiden says, interrupting Laura's thoughts. “Wanna come with? I'm hitting the dumpsters round the back of Walmart today, they're always full of good pickings.”
Bobby snorts. “Sounds like fun.”
Kiden balls up a sock and throws it at him. “Screw you, jerk.”
“Just sayin',” Bobby says, chucking the sock back.
“Laura?” Kiden asks expectantly.
“I should be getting back,” Laura answers. It's the truth. The drive down took three days, and even if she doesn't stop so much on the drive back, it'll take another two. The Academy were understanding when they agreed she could come and go as she pleased, but Laura thinks they might be wondering if not worrying where she is. She does not want to cause undue concern.
“What?” Kiden says, incredulous. “But you only just got here!”
Laura stays silent. Kiden is pouting again, but under the sulkiness there is already resignation. Tatiana is right; Kiden is used to people leaving. It is harder than Laura had expected to leave, but at the same time she feels she has to. She does not quite belong here.
“Leave her be,” Bobby says easily.
“That's right,” Tatiana says sternly, then glances at Laura. “Besides, she'll be back, won't you Laura?”
“Yes,” Laura promises, looking at Kiden.
“Fine,” Kiden says, still sullen. “But you better bring more food when you do come back.”
Laura smiles. “It is a deal.”
She leaves several minutes later, after an awkward goodbye that verges on painfully formal. Kiden hugs her before she leaves, tight enough to crush the air out of her lungs. “You better come back,” she whispers in Laura's ears.
“I will,” Laura promises again, before finally slipping out of the apartment, into the quiet of the corridor. She takes one last look at the door, listens to the four heartbeats behind it and takes a moment to cement this trip in her memories. Gambit will want to hear all about it, she is sure.