Work Text:
2006
“Thirty seconds to meltdown. Might wanna start the twister show, Kitten. I can hear the crossfire from up here.”
No quip, no shallow flirting just to be a pain in Scott's ass, not even a friendly insult; only that deep furrow of the reluctance to lose someone else he loved, that rarely left its designated home between Logan’s brows ever since Ontario Lake.
Shit, yeah, today was serious, alright.
They’d all known that coming here already though, so Katja wasted no time with regrets or with a kind of battle anxiety she’d lost at the latest at the Great Inferno, focusing entirely on the most unhinged corner of her emotional world instead, on the variety of feelings there that she'd need for the most complicated part of her gift. On the limitless rage over some Weapon X goons being on the hunt for new mutant lab rats among the most vulnerable of groups imaginable of all places. On the sickening worry that a certain favorite charge of Mutant High of Katja's that the X-Men had lost to these very, these lost teenagers during the Phoenix crises, was possibly still living with them in this area and would be right in the middle of this highly dangerous situation. On the annoyance over said group of scratching, biting, clawing kids rather all going down in agony – including the boy who had left not least partly left Mutant High because of his anger on Katja for leaving him alone when he'd most needed her – than fucking asking for help in time for once. Add to that a hint of pride that Katja was being tasked with this highly responsible mission today, and also a little bit of anger on Ororo, too, who’d let her worry for her long-estranged former charges in New York's canalization get the better of her and flown ahead to the city before anyone had been able to come up with an actual useful plan … Not to mention the restlessness because of the pure prospect that the loss of contact with Ororo an hour ago might not only be due to the shitty reception down there, but that this clash that originally hadn’t even been the X-Men’s might already have caused the first casualty … That their friend and teammate might have gotten herself hurt in the friendly fire of these mutant kids' powers when she'd only been trying to help, or even worse …
All that was simmering under the surface of Katja's agitated thoughts, waiting for her to call upon it and use it, to use the power from the sky above, let it encase Katja’s body with a kind of protection that usually stopped most projectiles and physical attacks from a safe distance already which meant, hopefully, at least she wouldn’t soon catch a claw, bone arrow, a splash of poison, bullet or blade from scared outcasts that would actually have been meant for a ruthless soldier instead. At least as long as Katja could keep on calling upon that advantage her mutation gave her via her deepest emotions.
Then again, with one of her best friends possibly already no longer breathing down there in the canalization, she didn’t think that would be particularly hard today.
However, she didn’t let that storm in her soul or the one in the sky emerge to the surface just yet, keeping it reined in with the help of all the mental control acquired in countless mental sessions together with someone back then who had lost this battle to save a world that never thanked the X-Men for it already … and in regular meditation with Logan at ass o'clock in the morning since then.
Those silent early morning meetings had brought the two of them a lot closer, so seeing her teammate paler than usual under his wild beard at the likelihood of possibly someone else dying under the city tonight, and this time on a planned solo quest instead of a headless early charge on top no less, wasn’t exactly surprising.
But for once, there was no time for reassurances, not to a close friend and even less to the man Katja loved. Scott and she had already decided against those sweet lies the evening they’d gotten married, back then knowing it might be the last few hours they would have together.
Today, it was less than a minute that they could afford to say goodbye before it would be Katja this time, leaving to try and prevent that same horrible outcome that everything they had built since Liberty Island could be over.
Which would be the case at the latest once special State forces would no longer be willing to listen to the noise and vibrations of shootings and brawls, of gifts versus brute force and lethal technology used underground, but actually charge to do something about it. As of yet, only someone out of their mind would go down there, was the overall agreement on the police radio that the X-Men had been listening in on secretly on their way here.
Well, leaving sanity at the door was kind of a basic requirement when you became a superhero.
When Katja turned to Scott, leaving it to Logan to keep an eye on that manhole cover in the distance that he’d just bombarded with an acid bomb, it wasn’t that same gloomy acceptance she felt though, mirrored on her husband’s demeanor.
His jaw was too tight, his hand shaking almost imperceptibly when he thrust a smoke bomb with narcotics into her hand, supposed to take everyone without a breather down there out, including the Morlocks if necessary, before they could turn all their pent-up aggression against the wrong intruder, against someone who was just trying to help them.
After all this time, Katja wouldn’t even have needed to actively try and read his mind with the help of their link to know what that hint of Scott’s usual so iron composure wavering in public meant, but she heard the thoughts flash across her mind anyway, everything her husband couldn’t tell her verbally, not right now. Maybe he wouldn’t even have if they'd not been in such a hurry. This, right here, was part of being on the same team, and by now they’d both come to accept that, no matter how fucking much that hurt sometimes.
It’s not supposed to be you, Herz.
It wasn’t no, Katja was not usually the first choice for the front. But said first choice for such a job as today was the very person they’d maybe already lost to it. This unhappy occurrence was what everyone on this team had their respective reserve player for, and this time, it was Katja’s turn. It was as simple as that.
I don’t want to send you in there, the deep crease between Scott's brows, a first and too early sign of age courtesy of far too many worries and grief on his broad shoulders, said.
Only there was no one else small and fast enough to navigate down there and hopefully get back their missing team member in time. And maybe end this whole conflict, too, before the bullets of SWAT teams that they could hear discuss more aggressively in the distance by the second, would. Yes, it was as simple as that.
Don’t get yourself killed down there, Scott's brief too fast, too thick swallowing said when his gloved fingertips brushed the back of her hand.
Katja forced herself to remain silent, and serious, as she kept on holding her husband's gaze through the shield of his VISOR. They’d learned better than to give each other empty promises long ago.
I can’t lose you, the way Scott's shoulders tightened more by the second while drooping an inch or two, reminded her.
That, too, she knew perfectly well. It was the reason why Logan and Katja had made the decision for this solo outing of hers together instead of leaving it to their actual leader, the way such things were always handled when there was a team member being too emotionally compromised for a rational decision. That strategy, too, the Great Inferno and the Scapels Moon had taught them.
I need you. Sassy needs you.
It was nothing short of a pleading when Scott's hand remained on her wrist, not trying to hold her back in the way but holding on to her instead.
Saskia did. Which was why they were not all going underground, not when in the worst case, that would only have meant even more casualties and less people on their team getting back home to their family.
I already had to find you half-dead down there once.
A clear shiver went through Scott's tall body when his gaze went back to the entry of a location he'd preferably never wanted Katja to get into ever again. Not after the tortures she'd had to endure there by his arch-enemy.
Accordingly, that last bitter thought transmitted in their connection, together with the briefest, a blurred image of bare skin and metal on blood, was the only one in that series of unspoken arguments that almost made Katja falter for a moment.
She pushed that second of hesitation back out of her system with only even more determination, her fists clenched. In fact, the thought of Anderson would only serve as more anger, perfect for additional emotional fuel. If she wanted to make it back out from these tunnels and laugh all those inevitable worries shaking Scott’s soul in the face, there could be no moment of doubt.
So when another warning hiss came from Logan, indicating that the only access point to the conflict raging a few feet below within miles was almost ready, Katja wasted no more time. At least not with words that never made a difference in that kind of situation.
She stood on her tiptoes instead, grabbed Scott’s collar with her hand not holding that grenade, and pulled him down for a deep kiss. Not a kind of intimacy usually suited for missions but with Logan’s attention on the surroundings, and Hank, Remy, and Marie giving them cover from possible hostiles close by or too-curious eyes from the authorities vehicles lining the streets … At least for a second or two, the world around them had to wait.
Even through the stiff leather of their uniforms, Katja could feel that Scott’s hand on her waist was ice-cold. She tasted coffee and desperation.
‘Don’t let anyone else go in before I tell you.’
At least one single, conscious sentence on her part in the unreliable connection that Dark Phoenix had given them back then on that very afternoon that they'd just both thought about with the same terror as on that horrible day, Katja forced herself to afford. Her fingertips brushed Scott's temple for a moment, as a wordless promise that she’d try her best to keep at least that line open once radio coms would fail in the reception vacuum of what surely the scariest part of the city.
Then Katja forced herself to back away. To turn away from that pained expression on her husband’s face that she didn’t think she’d ever get used to, no matter how many more years they would be doing this damn job of trying to save the world and protect mutants together.
She started running.