A.N.- for my darling vanilla pudding. this fic goes out to you.

may or may not have chapters following. if you have any suggestions, please chime in. reviews welcome and encouraged.

Disclaimer: I do not own the X-Men, or certain characters would never leave my room.

It started innocently. Which is funny to say, considering our pasts. I'm sure most everyone was simply waiting for us to be friends- we both had horrible childhoods and manipulative parents, both seemed destined to be on the outside of society. Hell, even our religions were similar (not many know I'm Pagan). Thing is, though, that with all we had going for us/each other, it's no wonder we didn't stay just friends.

Yeah, it started innocently. After the shit that went down with Apocalypse, we all became rather chummy. I was glad for it. I missed the guys at the Boarding House. Aside from their bouts of misbehaving, they're a hell of a lot of fun. We got along, for the most part. They were some fights, but that's how it always was.

I didn't quite know how it happened. Well, I do. I guess. Toad tripped over his tongue after he was flirting with her, and she hexed him. We looked at each other and smirked. The smirking soon built to laughter. We couldn't stop. It was as if we were waiting for that moment to release. Then we started talking. At first it was the mundane things- school and such. We talked about our parents, our mutations, what we wanted to do with our lives, even our similar beliefs. It was a breath of fresh air. And I know, from that moment, I fell in love with her. I am in love with Wanda Maximoff. And I couldn't be happier.

The team seemed to like our friendship, even going so far as encouraging it. Scott once offered to drive me to the House. I think the instructors might have known how deep it was. I didn't care. When we started wearing each others clothes, the residents started gossiping. She and I both knew it. And we let it run off our backs. But when talk started getting out of hand, we had to confront it. One day, when most of the team was in the rec room, we walked in, hand-in-hand, and the conversation cut short. We looked at each other, smiled, and I spoke. "We know you've been talkin' about us. So we're setting the record straight- so to speak. Yes, we're a couple. So yes, we're gay." The room was quiet, so we exited the room. Once we were out (hey, a pun), we chuckled and sighed. Now that that was out of the way….

Wanda and I spent quite a bit of time together. We enjoyed the little things, like taking plenty of walks and watching old movies. I learned we both had a passion for photography, so it was rare that you didn't see one of us without a camera (though she was definitely the one with more talent).

That's not to say, physically, that our relationship was without bumps. We could barely do anything but hold hands. I don't know how she wasn't fed up with our situation, but that's love. We fought, too. Boy, did we fight. Two girls with PMS is a force to reckon with. On more than one occasion Logan actually sent us to the Danger Room- more for the safety of everyone else than ourselves.

There were little victories here and there as well. I was gaining a little control over my mutation. "All for her" was my motto/mantra. And ever since Apocalypse, the team was sent on a lot less missions. Point for our side. Thankfully, we never had to fight against the Brotherhood. Who knows what we would have done?

We were there for each other when it mattered most. Whenever the damn psyches were acting up, her presence put them in their place. When we both had power surges, or got ridiculed by the public, we helped each other. She became my best friend. My rock. My everything.

Nothing every stays the way it should, does it? (Not unless you're Scott and Jean, it seems. Even the freaking desert couldn't break them.) But, our particular lives are wracked with tragedy and sorrow. Sometimes we refuse to acknowledge it. Or deal with it. But hey, that's life.

I still have trouble looking back on that day. It could have been anyone. It could have been me, had I not been to the right of her. We were taking one of our walks, cameras in hand. We were fortunate due to the sun just starting to set. My girl sets off the most unbelievable glow. I started taking pictures of her. She tried to block the shot with her own camera. I actually managed to take my favourite picture of her that night.

All of a sudden, we hear tyres screeching. Then, BAM! One shot was fired. One singular shot. She fell to the ground. I was covered in her blood, and bits and pieces of cranium and brain. I barely registered the people around me calling 911, asking if I was alright, some even vomiting. I looked down and saw the saddest thing in my life. My beautiful girl was dead. Killed. The back side of her head was missing. (To this day I'll never forget that image.)

Not five minutes later Scott's car pulled up. He, Jean and Kurt stepped out. Right behind him was Logan on his bike. He was the first to speak to me. "Darlin', can you hear me?"

My only response was a mute nod. The paramedics came with a body bag. No use in denying the truth.

I had answered the questions the police asked with a monotone voice. I wasn't much help, I don't think- I barely saw anything. I got back to the mansion, somehow. Everyone openly gaped. It's not often someone walks into a room covered with blood.

The professor took care of all the arrangements for her funeral. He also held a wake here at the school. All the photos used were the one I took. I didn't mind. At least he recognized what we had. At one point, I thought I saw Magneto, too. Good to know he's got a heart.

I really didn't cry much. I suppose some assumed I was afraid to show my emotions. It wasn't that. I had just become so numb. And, oddly enough, it hurt to be numb. To not cry over her. I knew I had to fix this. I just didn't know how.

I took the keys to Logan's bike one day. (I didn't walk much anymore.) I stopped at the Boarding House. Without knocking, I entered the building. No one questioned me. I climbed the stairs to her room. Opening the door, I let out a breath, glad to see nothing was touched. Perhaps they were waiting for me to come.

Shuffling over, I flopped down on her bed, smelling her pillows. I lay there for gods know how long. Not even thinking, really. It was sorta Zen-like. Eventually, I got up and glanced around. I knew that her things would either sit here, collecting dust, or get thrown out eventually. I couldn't let that happen.

Searching her closet, I found a worn-out duffel bag and placed it on the bed. Going back to her closet, I rummaged through her clothes, picking out my favourite items. I took a few sweaters, corsets, and skirts, folded them, and packed them into the duffel. She had a cloak in the back, and I took that, too. Satisfied with that area, I moved next to her bed to the bookshelf. There were mostly knick-knacks that only she could find the relevance for. I took some of her books, including Wiccan books and journal. Tucking them in safely, I lastly went for her cameras. Taking them both and placing them on top, I zipped up the pack and headed out the door. As I reached the bottom of the stairs, I finally gave recognition to the boys with a curt nod.

Climbing back on Logan's bike, I felt myself feeling a little better. Hell, I found myself feeling. That was an accomplishment in itself.