@fxstestkid sent ❝You’re gonna need me.❞
“Well, yeah.” The words were out before Kitty stopped to think about them. They were the kind of honest only found in the entirely candid, those thoughts that bubbled to the surface without a moment’s hesitation. Kitty knew she meant it the moment they fell out, but they still took her by surprise. Only for a moment; though, she was perfectly aware a moment for her was likely an eternity for Bart.
There were a lot of things Kitty needed. She needed Genosha, even if the skies still hinted at a red that burrowed uncomfortably beneath her skin. She needed Lockheed comfortably settled on her shoulders, a stalwart companion, one of the few constants she’d had in her life since thirteen tipped it on its head. She needed Scott awake at three in the morning, and Rachel existing in the same time and the same space. And apparently she needed Bart. Bart who texted ten times in the space of her one, who split into five million because he felt so much, who knew ghost wasn’t just a scary story.
There was no use in covering, no use in pretending it hadn’t thrown her. Instead she found a smile, an easy feat, and shrugged. “Yeah, Bart.”
“This is just one trip, though.” She shifted, and looked down to the scattered comic books between them. A customer had come in with an older collection of Star Wars comics; Luke was splayed angrily across the cover, hands clutching a red saber. She tapped at the plastic encasing it, “I’ll be back before you know it. Space is, like, old hat for me.”
The words had come out faster than he could stop them. Then again, isn’t that what always happened? Known for his impulsive feet and his impulsive mouth. He’d really barely been able to grasp the true gravity of the topic they were discussing, his eyes were far too focused on trying to reorganize the mess in front of him that his ears might not’ve been working too properly anyways. But he meant it. Even through the ruffling white noise of old, aged pages, even through the general crowd milling about in the background on drop day, even through the distant growl in his stomach of a lunch break that wasn’t for another ten agonizing minutes, he meant what he said. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but she’d agreed on instinct. On impulse. It made him smile.
A heavy breath swiped away some of the books, slipping them into boarded bags in the blink of an eye. “Yeah, I know, but it gets so boring when all my friends leave.” There’s a hint of a shrug, but it’s nothing but another blink. “It doesn’t matter if space is the usual. I know plenty of people who go to space. Pff-” Again, a blink, and he’s under the counter, filing the more collectable editions with the others in the glass-protected display. Bart feels the lump in his throat getting heavier and his next breath that gets him to stand almost makes him choke. The only time he stops to take a breath is after he tries to cough it out, leaning against the counter again with a groan, the heavy mop of hair hiding the face he’s pressing against the counter top. Grounding, doing the routine wasn’t helping so much. Fast fingers drummed next to the favored issue, next to Luke, next to the Space opera issue.
Bart brought his head up again to lean on one freckle-stained cheek, blinking up through his wide, golden eyes. “... Promise you’ll be quick?”
