DISCLAIMER: All characters used and mentioned belong to Marvel Comics. No money is being made off this story. Please don't sue me! I'm a broke college student, you wouldn't get anything if you did!

NOTES: This story is supposed to take place in before X-Force #94(YEAH! Pete's back! We all most worship the wonderful writer!) and after the X-Men or UXM where Kitty sort of mentions Pete to Logan (I’m sorta pissed off about that). I'm writing this because I liked Pete and Kitty breaking up even less than I like how they did it (anybody want to help me hunt down Ben Raab?) and I want them back together. I will write a story kinda like this from Pete's point of view (hopefully soon.). I started this a while ago but most of it was written a couple days ago (this is what one does with four hours between classes.

Send feedback to RhiannonAZ@aol.com. No flames please. This is the first story I've posted so be nice. I'll shut up now so you can read the story.

I woke in the middle of the night and couldn't go back to sleep. Things had been so weird lately. The Professor has become so harsh towards all of us since we got back from the Skrull home-world, and to be honest even before that. I mean the Professor being missing, finding him and some clone or something of him, Marrow, Joseph, Magneto, whatever the hell is going down in Genosha, and everything else I have no idea of what's going on, no grounding. Was everything this complicated in Excaliber? I really don't think it was. God, I have to stop thinking like this.

I decided to go down to the kitchen and make myself a cup of tea, hoping it will help me sleep or at least lift a little bit of my depression. I began to look for my robe and realized it was still packed. Things have been so hectic since Excaliber disbanded and we rejoined the X-Men that I haven't had much of a chance to settle back in. Or maybe I don't really want to. I knew which box it was in so it was just a matter of digging around until I found it. When I pulled out the blue flannel cloth a white shirt was tangled in it and fluttered to the floor.

I stared at it, unsure of myself, wondering how it had gotten in there in the first place, trying to block out memories of how I had clung to it after I realized he was really gone, before snatching it up and burying my face in it. It was permeated with the scent of tobacco, Scotch and cheap after-shave and I breathed it in as someone who had been drowning gasps for air once they break surface. God, it smelled wonderful, it smelled like Pete. I realized what I was doing and dropped it like it was a snake. 'He dumped you, girl.' I forced the thought through my mind. 'You're over him. You don't miss him. You don't.'

I grabbed my blue flannel robe and went down to the kitchen. After I put on the kettle and was getting a tea bag out when I noticed I wasn't alone. A dark figure sat silently in the corner. "Logan?"

"Yeah, pum'kin?" the familiar growl came from in the shadows.

"What are you doing up so late?" I asked with forced lightness, attempting to distract myself from my own problems.

The silence hung in the air for a few moments before he spoke. "Thinkin', darlin'. About the past," he answered softly and paused a moment before continuing quietly, "About mistakes."

I know they weren't meant to, but oh those words cut me to the bone.

"How 'bout you, Kit?" he asked gently.

"I ... I couldn't sleep," I stammered. The shrill whistle of the water boiling momentarily saved me from having to elaborate. I hurried to turn off the kettle. Somehow I managed to ignore Logan while I a chamomile tea bag into my mug with a couple spoonfuls of sugar and poured boiling water over it. I sat back down at the table and stared at the steam rising from my cup.

Wolverine gave an annoyed sigh and pulled up the chair next to mine. "What's on your mind Kitty?"

"Nothing," I replied in a small voice and tried to make myself believe it. God knows Logan didn't.

"You'd be sound asleep if it was nothin' kid."

I sat, glaring at my mug, trying in vain to ignore my own thoughts. "It's nothing, really. It's ..." I faltered, unable to believe my own lies for a moment longer. "Pete. Oh, God, I screwed up Logan." I had held back for so long, kept everything I didn't want to deal with locked up, that when the dam burst everything came rushing violently to the surface. "I didn't mean to. I didn't. I pushed him away. I don't know why. I was scared, I guess. I mean when I went to S.H.E.I.L.D. there were all these people my age and I just thought, 'Oh. This is how I'm supposed to be acting? I better start now.' God I was an idiot." Tears had began to stream down my face. "And I was so caught up in everything that I didn't even think about him. When he was in Germany I was so worried that he was seeing someone else, but as soon as he wasn't around I just started flirting like that. What kind of person am I?" I was babbling and sobbing now. I just didn't think twice about it. Rigby Fallon was an annoying little bastard and I didn't even notice, I was too busy drooling. And when I got I was so scared that I would -- Oh God that's bull. I just didn't want to deal with it and I hurt him so much. It hurt when he left but I never even tried to stop him. I was so stupid. God I'm selfish." All the pain and guilt and grief and self-loathing and anger boiled to the surface. "And I miss him. What right do I have to miss him? But oh God I miss him so much. I don't sometimes, it's like I'm dead inside or something though. Numb. But then all the pain comes back and I ... I don't know what to do." My body wracked with sobs and all of a sudden I felt Logan's strong arms around me.

"Shush. It'll be okay pum'kin, everythin'll be all right." I cried into the shirt of the man who had somehow become my father for I don't know how long. I couldn't have spoken even if I had wanted to. Gradually the tears slowed, then almost stopped. I pulled back and wiped my face on my sleeves. "You know what really makes me feel like a bitch? I never even realized what it would do to him, what I did to him. He always seemed so tough, so strong, that it was so easy to forget how many times he had been hurt, betrayed. I was probably one of the first people he had trusted in a long time. And I did the same damn thing to him." I wiped futily at my eyes. I had thought I had cried myself out. "And I didn't even realize it. 'You said you loved me.' That's what he said when he walked out the door. He didn't lash out or try to hurt me like I hurt him. Just 'You said you loved me.' I did ... I do. And I didn't even look him in the eye, I never said a damned word." I looked away and shut my eyes, trying to block out the memory of the pain in those deep blue eyes I knew so well. But I didn't cry, I didn't have any tears left.

"You okay darlin'?" Logan asked, concern softening his usual growl. I can guess what he might have seen, my eyes were closed and I felt my face contort with pain.

"No," I said without meaning to. My voice softened, "Yeah Logan, I'm okay. I just ... I don't know what I'm doing, what I should do. I mean, how the hell can I make things right?"

I looked at him for some kind of answer. "Wish I could tell you pum'kin. I wish I knew," he said quietly, eyes shining with unshed tears. Not exactly the words of wisdom I was hoping for.

"Thank you."

"What the hell for?"

"For being here for me, for listening to me, for letting me cry all over your shirt ..." I smiled weakly and thought of all the things I wasn't saying. For not letting me hate myself, for not pushing me towards Piotr, for not treating me like the child I was when I left the X-Men all those years ago, for not thinking I should be glad that me and Pete are over, for being the nearest thing I have to family for so many years now. But most of all for just being there.

"Anytime, Kitty, anytime."

I left the kitchen and went back to my room. For a moment I stared at the indistinct white shape on the floor, but only for a moment. I shed my robe and wrapped Pete's shirt around me, ignoring Lockheed's disapproving growl, feeling as if he were near me instead of half a world away as he probably is. 'I miss him. I miss the eyes that can look into the depths of my soul, I miss the voice that can go from bitter cynicism to caring tenderness in the same sentence, I miss the mind that finished my own thoughts and didn't think it was at all weird to quote a Monty Python sketch or Douglas Adams and did just that nearly as often as me. I even miss those damned cigarettes. I miss you Pete Wisdom. I know there's no way to take back all the things I did. I don't even know if we'll ever make another go at it, if I'll ever even see you again. But if I do, if I ever get another chance I won't throw it away, I won't take it for granted. Because I understand how important it is now, how important you are to me.' I slowly went to sleep wrapped in his shirt. I was as I had been for so long, as I hadn't been for such a short time. Alone.