Thanks for all the reviews! I think I might change up what I have for the sequel so far. I'm liking the ideas I've getting a lot. Here it is though, the final chapter of 'Part Of Your World'. I do not own anything in this story, besides the memory of Sierra and MG, everything else belongs to their rightful owners. The sequel will be up soon, so be on the look out for 'Briar Rose'

Chapter 48!

It's been a week since John had beaten Pietro up to a pulp after his baby sister's funeral. It's been almost a month since her death, since he's been back at the institute. No one really talked to him much anymore here, well except for Kitty. Molly-Grace tried to talk to him, to kiss him, but he pushed her away almost every time. He couldn't look at her, let alone listen to her voice, and not see the image of her slapping Sierra in his head.

So here he sat, alone, just staring at an old worn picture of his sister when she was just six years old. She was smiling that million dollar smile of her's, she had been smiling at him. He had been making a funny face. He was trying to show her off for cash. He knew that any woman would be a sucker for a boy raising a little kid on his own. He had been old enough, and she looked young enough, that they could have been father and daughter. Which was so gross on so many levels.

The room that he sat in laid untouched, well besides the bed that he slept in. He hadn't touch a thing that she had. The pictures that she had hung up of her and him, the one's that she had managed to rescue from the remains of the fire and keep with her after all these years, still hung crooked on the wall. The teddy bear in the crib still laid on it's face like it had been when she had accidentally dropped it before she had been dragged out of the room by an excited Kitty so they could go shopping.

He took another swig of the beer in his hands, his eyes only leaving the picture of Sierra for a second so he could make sure that the bottle touched his lips and not his cheek. Logan had sneaked him a six pack after the funeral, and what better day to drink them all than today? He was on his six beer, finishing off all of the pack already. He knew that he was drunk, he had to be by now. He heard that laughter, the same laughter that haunted his dreams, echo around the room. "Johnny's gonna we in wrumble! Johnny's gonna we in wrumble!" Her voice sang out, her voice echoing all around him like she was everywhere in the room.

He shut his eyes tight, begging for her voice to go away. Only, he got the exact opposite of that. He could feel her near him. He could still hear her fucking stupid laughter. "No, I'm not. Go away. You're . . . you're not real." John hissed out to the voice of his little sister. She didn't sound older than four though. Had that been when she was last happy? He couldn't focus with her laughing. He shivered at the sudden coldness. He could feel her cold little fingers on his face, silently asking him to open his eyes. He slowly did and what he saw made him go pale on sight. "Sierra." She was just like how he remembered her when she was little.

Her brown hair shined as the curled ringlets hung down pass her shoulders. She was wearing her favorite white dress that she wore to church every time their parents had actually bothered to actually bring them. She had a glow around her, she was literally beaming as she smiled at him. "Do ya like my wress, Johnny? Aunty Jeanie helped me find it. She said ya would wove ta see me in it." She said to him as she did a little twirl for him in it.

He chuckled lowly and shook his head. Only Sierra could pull that dress off. It was near rags, but it had been her favorite. She made it look like it was suppose to look the way it did though. "I love your dress, Sici." He told her weakly. He sounded, and looked, completely drained. He was looking her over, savoring every little detail about his sister. He didn't want to forget how her eyes twinkled when she smiled.

He didn't want to forget that she could be this happy and laugh. He never wanted to forget the way that she said his name, the way her eyes seemed to explode with life when she saw him. "Aunty Jeanie wed ya were sad, Johnny. Why ya sad?" She asked him as she plopped herself down on the floor next to him. John put down his beer away from them both and reached his hand out, not knowing if he could touch her or not.

His lips twitched when he found that he could in fact touch her skin. It was freezing cold, but he could. He carefully picked her up in his arms and put her on his lap. She looked up at him, her doe eyes big with curiousness. "I broke my promise, Sierra." He told her. "I let . . . I let someone take you away from me." John confessed to the little girl version of his sister. He closed his eyes, the image of Pietro dropping his sister's body to the ground like she was nothing replaying in his head.

When he opened them up again, Sierra was gone. He shook his head, she couldn't be gone already. Did she blame him for letting her be killed? He didn't even get to ask her! "I don't blame you, John. I could never blame you." She was sitting right in front of him now. She looked like she did the last time that he had seen her at the mansion alive, only now she had her baby belly. She was still in her white dress, just now it was newer and wasn't ripped to pieces.

She smiled brightly at him as she tilted her head, moving her hand to cup the side of his face. "It's my fault, Sierra. I should've gotten there sooner. I should have known that you were with Pietro all that time. I should have . . ." He trailed off upon hearing her laughter, only it was covering her sobs.

His eyes met her teary ones. She had his eyes. Probably one of the only things that he was glad that he shared with her. "None of this is your fault, John." She told him, a small worried expression playing on her soft features. "Don't become dad, please. Don't drink." She asked him, trying her best to show him that she was strong, just like she always use to do when they were on their own. She saw him eye the beer next to him. "Please John, for me. Don't." She pleaded with her brother.

He just nodded slowly to her. She smiled weakly at him and kissed his cheek, leaving a cold chill behind. She stood up to her feet, mouthing a 'thank you' to him as she did so. He felt tears welling up in his eyes as he saw her vanish before his eyes. "John? John, wake up." He woke up with a jolt and sat up, his guard up instantly. He looked around frantically for his intruder, but relaxed when he found that it was only Kitty Pryde.

Kitty noticed all of the empty beers and sighed. She picked them up and tossed them into the trash can. She went back over to him and sat down next to him. "Did she tell you want today was?" John, randomly, asked her. She nodded to him, she knew exactly what he was talking about. Sierra hadn't meant to let it slip, but she did. Only Kitty knew out of the whole school though. Well, besides John of course. "She would have been 16 today. Old enough to drive." John smiled sadly as he found the picture of her when she was little, his dream still raw in his head.

Kitty smiled softly to herself as she looked at as well. She missed her friend like there was no tomorrow. "That would have been a sight." Kitty laughed out sadly to him as she looked up at him. He glanced over at her too, taking a double look at her. Kitty blushed at his stare on her.

John cleared his throat as Kitty straightened up her posture. "She made me promise that I would teach her how to drive." John told her. Kitty giggled softly, actually knowing that she could picture Sierra doing just that. John hadn't noticed that somehow when the two moved, they had moved closer to the other, their heads only inches away from the other's. He cleared his throat again and got up, wobbly at first, but sturdied himself. "I need to get some, uh, fresh air." John said out to her quickly before rushing out of the room, leaving Kitty there alone and confused.

A few hours later, John returned to the nursery with a wrapped up box behind his back. He was stilling pretty pissed off from what had just gone down, but he was going to suck it up for right now. He entered the room, but stopped upon seeing Kitty standing over the crib, talking to no one. He knew better though. He knew that she was just talking to Sierra the only way that she knew how.

He was about to leave and let her do her thing when her voice stopped him. "You don't have to leave, John. I was just dropping off the present I had gotten her. We had gone shopping, and she had loved it on sight. I didn't know where to put it, but she loved the crib there most, so . . . yeah." Kitty babbled on, not wanting John to go off on her.

He was a grieving pyromaniac for heaven's sakes! She knew to be on her guard around him, especially right now. "I figured that would be her favorite thing in the whole room. She hardly wanted to get out of her own when she was little." John told her, a slight smirk on his face as he remembered how much of a fight his sister had put up when he tried to take her out of her crib. Kitty went to leave and leave him to his business, but his hand caught her wrist.

"John . . ."

A gasp left her lips from his touch, her eyes slowly meeting his. "Just stay with me when I give her my present, okay Kitten?" John asked her, not wanting to be alone in this room again. He didn't think that he could do this without her. He felt beyond weak right now, and he wanted this over and done with already. Kitty nodded slowly, her hand holding his as she led him over to the crib. He placed a small box down on the little pillow, a sad smile gracing his lips.

John glanced back at the door and saw a tear stained cheeked Molly-Grace watching him and Kitty with hollowed eyes. He let his head drop. He wasn't even going to give a crap about what that girl was thinking. She doesn't even belong in this room. She hated his sister. She had flat out said that to him. He glanced down at the girl beside him, only for her to look up at him slowly, her eyes filled with tears. With not a glance back to see if Molly-Grace was still there, he did something that he never thought he would ever do.

He kissed Kitty Pryde.

Pietro entered a room that he hadn't entered in about a week. Lorna had let him off of bed rest, finally. The room was dark. The air was cold. He could swear that he could even see his own breath. She liked the cold though. She wasn't numb when she shivered, when her teeth chattered. Pietro walked over to the bed that sat in the room, kneeling down on his knees so he could get face to face with her. He went to touch her cheek, but she wouldn't let him.

She never did.

He moved the shield of hair that she had made behind her ear, reveling her blank stare. She didn't make any move to show that she knew that he was there, touching her like he was. Not once. Her hazel eyes were hollow, ripped of the emotion that had once been inside them. She just stared at the wall, not once moving to stretch or to show that she knew that he had come to see her. He was always in the room, always coming in to just to see her and make sure that she didn't hurt herself.

She never talked to him, even though he did in fact talk to her. But she never would talk to him. He was a fool to ever think differently. He attempted to caress her cheek once more, which he some how managed to do, before slowly getting up from the floor and leaving the room, leaving the tray of food behind for her. Her eyes finally moved from her stare on the wall to the door once he was gone.

"Boy."