A World Remembered

Chapter 16: She's Dead

I...I was a mess the first few days after the ordeal had happened, dealing with various feelings. Several things have ran through my head...among them the fact my hands are burned so badly I won't be able to use them until new tissue has grown. And that could takes months. Months that I don't have.

I've been depressed, yet again, after becoming happy, gaining an odd joy until this happened. Is this fandom trying out to make a suicidal maniac out of me? I swear, I can hear it coming after me, that thing called death. Oh wait, it was just Deadpool's girlfriend. Or the one who caused his eternal suffering anyhow.

I don't know when it came to the point that I finally gave up. Maybe it was this past Tuesday when it happened or this Friday. We have three weeks left until your death. There isn't anything else I can do. Gran told me to keep writing a book as I should have, so I'll do that. I'll let you read my story as I leaned further and further into the one person I felt closest to beside you. You were from my world and that kept us bonded in a special way, but not in the way I felt with my speedster, the person who'd lately seemed to care, to make this world seem sorta like home.

I absently leave my room, ready to face some other besides the nurse lady who's name I'd refused to learn. I think I'm in search of someone, but I'm not entirely sure anymore. I pass the library, skirting the laughing voices inside the various dorms and kitchen. I find my best peace going outside. No voices to bother me, no people to find me. Only me and the gentle spring breeze. Ha...funny to think. Is it spring or is this just a weird occurrence? Honestly, I don't care anymore.

The lake dances with the gentle wind, flashes of light letting me relax where I sit. I had fallen when I tried to sit, having to wiggle to upright myself to see this view. I hear the gentle movement from them, the rippling hills of pure water. A thick scent of spring flashes through my nose and I know it's spring. How long had it been since I paid any attention to this world around me? How long had it been since I truly cared. "Have I been that wrapped up in everything?" I say this part aloud, certain no one would hear me, bits of dirt clumping on my wrappings. I practically didn't have hands anymore.

"You kertainly seemed vrapped up. Vhat else do you vant done?" I don't look back, I don't need to. I wrote the story the style I needed to. I know what comes next. I know what has to happen.

"Nothing besides to have peace. Too much to ask?" my voice is flat, but the word sharpness is still somewhat there. At least I haven't complete lost it-

"Vhere did you go, Khrys? Vhy did you go?" He sits beside me. I am aware of the needle point gaze on my hands. He regrets it though it had nothing he could. Nothing.

"I went back to reality. I left the imagination inside me..." I look down, trailing my cast, what would have been my fingers, in the dirt. It fits better for it be dirty. Tainted with mistakes. That's anybody. That's me. "I came back."

"And vhat if you vere not meant to ever kome back? Vhat if your home vas there? Vhat if it is?" He's looking at my face. I don't want to admit defeat yet, to look out of the corner of my eye and lean against him. Then again, maybe I should. Perhaps that's what I've been waiting for, someone to lean against and rest my head on, to tell my troubles to.

"For now, it is here. After all, this," I gesture to the whole of the world at this point. The sparkling water, the bright sun, the blossoming plants. "-is my imagination. I am living here." For now.

"Do you like it here? Or do you vish to go home?" At this, I do look out of the corner of my eye. He knows how I feel. How did I let me people read me so well?

"It's not a question whether I want to, but if I will like doing it. I do like it here, yet I hate it." A calm peace stays there, covering us.

"You hate you can't do anything-" he starts.

"No, I can. I did. Now I just hope it works."

And with that I tackle him, pushing my silver-haired boy to the ground with my hug. He just wouldn't know how much I hoped it worked.

~~~

Kurt?

Kurt, is that you? What are you doing? Holding my hand like that. I'm here. I can see you. What are you saying I'm dead. What you saying? I'm alive. I'm here!

Oh Kurt. There's so much you don't know...

~~~

"Leave her be. She will awake before the end of the month." Xavier's voice is fatherly towards the blue boy, but it holds the authority to drag the grieving man from his beloved's bedside.

"You can not know zhat."

"I know more than you think. For now...you need to worry about someone else. How many times must I stress to you that you are not the only one suffering?"

The blue boy's face filled with a mixture of emotions: hatred, regret, and something called acceptance.

~~~

I was left in the kitchen where Peter-no, Pietro, was fixing me a bowl of something. He said that it was some Russian dish and stressed for me to relax, to figure it out. He herded anyone who tried to intrude out, taking care of me.

I don't remember the last time someone did that. Well, before him anyhow.

Everything was utterly calm, the only feeling the air besides was the beating of nervous hearts. We were exploring something new. All of it broke the moment the Blueberry appeared and the smell of brimstone filled my nose. A silver speedster was beside me, an arm protective around my shoulders, a touch that I drifted into.

"I am only here to talk." He look and sounded tired, worn through and through. Can't say I blame him, cause I feel pretty much the same.

"About vhat?" The Russian growls, tightening his hold on me.

"About (Y/N)," the German answers, taking a seat on the stool two over from me.

"What about her? The fact that I've killed her?" I raise my brow, looking on coolly. This is the best way to handle it. Calm, me, calm.

"Not really zhat so much as...I am sorry." He looked away before he said the last part and I felt myself laughing, shaking my head.

"You're apologizing..."

"And how is zhis funny to you? Are you really so heartless-"

He stops, a warm body in his. I'm hugging him, leaving Pietro to look on.

Your Blueberry is warm, his body stiff from uncertainty. I mean, the person he hates most in the world is hugging him. My arms are surrounding him and he's barely staying on the stool before my body starts to wrack with sobs.

"I've been waiting for that."

And then he's hugging me too, his own body shivering from pent up emotions, his head buried in my neck. "You have not had anyone to hold."

"No, I haven't. I-I've been-trying to-keep it-together as much as I can."

"You vere saying something vhen they took you away, saying somezhing about (Y/N)."

"And?"

"You vere saying "she's dead" over and over again, like a chant. Is she-"

"No. She's going to be okay Kurt. She's going to be okay."