The Words "Grief" and "Love" || Solo feat. Kitty's Family
February 15, 2025. Early hours of the morning.
The Hensley Household, Lunar Cove, RI.
It is the hardest thing in the world to mourn a child. That is what Malee Hensley told herself as she gripped her husband's arm, the two of them looking at the body of their youngest daughter. The rest of their children were gathered at their house. The twins huddled together, comforting each other in the only way they knew how. Jon was trying to be strong, so much like his father, but his eyes were red. Tara was somewhere in the kitchen; Malee could here her, could only wonder what she was up to. Danny, the youngest, her only child still at home, sensitive and sweet, didn't hide his tears. His familiar comforted him, and he held the rabbit close. He missed his older sister. He and Kitty had always been so close.
The word "grief" could not properly begin to encompass the feeling of the room. It was too small, too weak.
Kitty was the reason that all of them were there. She'd always done that, in more ways than one, worked to be the glue that tugged their family together. When she was a baby, it had been through fear. Malee had never expected one of her children to be without magic. Jonathan blamed himself, his humanity finally winning out in the gene pool. Malee hadn't cared about that; she'd fallen in love with Jonathan because he was human. Even still, she worried for her daughter's safety. It was made worse by Kitty's constant need to get into trouble. Magic could have added an extra layer of protection. Malee thought it might develop with age. Maybe Kitty was a late bloomer. All of the other children had started showing signs that they would develop magic from a very young age. She could see that Kitty was holding onto that hope, too. But it just never happened.
Malee could see how alone her daughter felt, even when the entire family tried to include her. Jonathan helped, but he wasn't always home. He would be gone, and Kitty would be the odd one out, unable to rely on the supernatural gifts her siblings used around the house with abandon because they couldn't show off to the outside world. Kitty grew angry, she grew rebellious, and she lashed out in all sorts of ways to get attention. And her friend Parker might have tried to be the voice of reason, but Malee could see just how easy it was to get swept up in Kitty's ideas.
Malee would never fault Kitty for taking the bite. She'd never fault her daughter for the accident that had resulted from it. She'd never fault her for running, for hiding, for trying to start over new. When Kitty had called, worried for all of them, trying to get them somewhere safe, Malee and Jonathan began packing right then. Jonathan knew the consequences of the move. He'd never see his human family again. He'd never be able to leave the town that wiped the minds of the humans that left its borders. But he'd do anything for the family that they'd made together. He would always be the first to answer every single one of Kitty's calls. The two of them had a relationship that, frankly, made Malee jealous. She knew it was selfish; she shared magic with all of her other babies. She could let Jonathan have his time with Kitty. That didn't make it sting any less.
The rest of the children followed. They'd make Lunar Cove a home as well, even if it meant leaving their lives behind temporarily. And Malee knew that, for them, this place was temporary until the insanity of their world died down. They might join the coven, or the might not. They all wanted to see the world, or to go back to the home they were raised in, and Malee had no doubt that they would, even if she also knew they'd return for visits. It was different here for Kitty, though. For the first time, Malee could see something in her daughter's eyes. A desire to settle. The pack had been good for her. Oh, but Kitty was young. Malee knew she would roam again. She'd always wanted to see the world. But Malee also knew that Kitty would come back. She'd settle in Lunar Cove. Malee had never expected it to be so soon, though.
It ached. Malee would give anything in the world to hear her daughter's footsteps pounding down the stairs, to hear her yelling about how she was "running late, Mama! What did you do with my skateboard!" No skateboards in the house, Malee would always say. It was beside the sofa, now, abandoned. Someone would trip on it trying to leave. She didn't think anyone would care.
Kitty's body had been brought to their home first. The kind people-- the other part of Kitty's family, those that loved with a recklessness and wildness that Malee couldn't help but be impressed by, even if it pained her like an open would-- brought her baby to her for one last time. She wouldn't be able to stay, of course. A funeral would need to be arranged. The body-- her daughter, her baby, her brave little girl-- would need to be taken and prepared. Her throat... Malee couldn't stop looking at where the blanket covered the wound and the rest of Kitty's body. A monster had killed her child. Him being dead was not the relief that Malee wished that it could be.
"I want you to cut my hair," Jonathan murmured. She'd expected the words, but that didn't stop the tears from leaking through closed eyes. He wanted her to cut his hair. He wanted to mourn. The last time Jonathan Hensley cut his hair was when his father died, and now he would repeat the same action for his daughter.
No, grief was not the word. How could five simple letters provide understanding for a feeling like this. A piece was missing from the hearts of the Hensley family, a piece that would not, could not return.
None of the Hensley witches could see the dead. Perhaps that was for the best. The ghost of Kitty Hensley still lingered, unable to make herself move on. She tried to brush her fingers through brother's hair, but she couldn't feel the strands. She tried to meet her mother's eyes, but she couldn't be seen. She hated that she'd left them. She hated that they'd mourn her. Kitty didn't regret what she'd done, though, and, if she could, she'd do it all over again. She'd died because she'd loved so many people so much that the thought of them being hurt pulled her into action. Even now, she couldn't feel the chill of the house or the carpet under her feet, but she could feel that love.
The word "love" was so simple, such a simple thing to cover so much feeling, but it was enough.
Kitty dresses like it's the 1950s every time she goes to work. It's not her favorite thing in the world, but it could be worse. The uniform isn't that ugly. Honestly, she's just glad to get to wear some cool pants this evening, and she's grateful she found something that fit the vibe so that she didn't have to come in said uniform.
"Me either," She gave Kitty a lazy nod. Only to let out a little laugh at the thought of being super drunk. "Mhm. Alcohol fun," She slurred her words as nodded along to Kitty once more. "What she said and okay," She held out her arms so that she could be given a piggyback ride, not bothering to even attempt to try to walk right now. "To food!"
"Oh, my god. Are you twelve?" Kitty asked at Jas' joke, but she mostly just rolled her eyes and grinned. This was a good night. Sometimes, she had bad ones. Her birthday made her a little sad, thinking about the people she missed that she wished could be there to celebrate with her. But this was nice. It was fun. She gave an exaggerated groan as she picked Jas up. "You're soooo heavy," she teased, but she started walking, heading into town, following a familiar smell towards Peggy's.
"Geez, thank the gods fae don't have improved alcohol tolerance," Rangi snorted. "That sounds awful. You poor soul. But hey, at least you can, like, drink everyone else under the table, right? Just make sure they don't know first. Hussle 'em." She took a drink as Kitty did, letting the alcohol sit in her mouth before swallowing and relishing the burn of it as it went down her throat. She choked on a laugh, shaking her head before bumping against Kitty playfully. "Jerk. Parents are kind of, like, supposed to be uncool though, aren't they? Like, kids are supposed to think their parents are big losers, according to Hollywood." Rangi thought her parents were, but it wasn't just because they were her parents. She took another deep drink. "You got other people you talk comics with, then? I'd say I would but I only know what Mason used to tell me about."
"Oh, I could totally drink everyone under the table before," Kitty said with a smirk. "I'm, like, super fucking cool like that, you know?" And maybe it wasn't cool to say you were cool, but Kitty didn't care. She was pretty positive about that aspect of herself, at the very least. She laughed. "Only sometimes. And, I mean, yeah, I think it's sort of the circle of life to think your parents are super lame. Mine can be cool sometimes. Like, my dad's got a better green thumb than two of my siblings with actual earth magic, and he's just a dad. No other magic than his insane dad abilities. And my mom's the best cook ever. They're just old, so they can't help but do old people things, like not read comics and watch the weather channel." She rolled her eyes. "My younger brother, which is, you know, pretty fucking embarrassing. Sometimes a few people in town have kept up with stuff, but you know. Mason was the best at it."
"I think I might have jumper cables back there." Honestly, there was so much 'just in case' stuff back there, he definitely did. Motioning 'one minute', he quickly ran to the back of his car, glad he parked close by. Small mercies.
Bringing back the jumper cables, he also brought his own vehicle closer by, in case the old truck just needed a jump start. "I got the cables and a fire extinguisher, just in case." He clicked on a flash light, making sure to not blind her by accident. "If that doesn't work, there's also duct tape and spare fuses if you need 'em." He once found a list online saying what things you should keep close by in case of emergency and immediately got all of them. It didn't necessarily mean he knew how to use everything but better over-prepared than under.
Pleasantly surprised that she remembered, he nodded before remembering the awful visibility. "Yeah, that's me. And you're Kitty. I've seen you too." That sounded creepy. "At pack stuff, I mean." Great save(!)
"My hero!" Kitty crowed, grinning widely as they came back with the jumper cables. "I'm gonna check and see if there's anything chewing on wires and shit in here, but, otherwise, it might just need a quick jump from your truck to mine, hopefully." With the flashlight on, she was able to dig around a little bit easier. The truck, for its age, looked fine on the inside. The oil was still good, the motor was alright. It just wouldn't crank. So Kitty started hooking up the jumper cables, red to positive, black to negative, before giving him a hopeful look. "Mind hooking up the rest to yours?"
She laughed. "That's me. I think fate was kinda a funny thing, making a werewolf named Kitty," she said. "Yeah, pack stuff. Pack stuff's fun! It's cool. It's like... I dunno. Super, uh, wolf positive?" She didn't quite know where she was going with that, honestly.
"God, that's so tragic," Rangi said, shaking her head morosely. "I'd cry if it took more than two glasses of wine to get my tipsy." She took another long sip of her drink, nodding along as well. "Good! Good for you. Never do anything you don't wanna. That's grade A advice there for ya." She sombered a moment, before clearing her throat and shrugging. "Yeah, yeah, sure, I mean-- I appreciate them for what they're worth, I just think that, ya know-- they'd get more love from someone else." She gave a genuine simle, or as close to one as she could muster at the moment. "No shittin'? That's cool. I was named after an someone in an old traditional tale. Not nearly as cool as someone like Kitty Pryde."
"It's the pits, dude," Kitty said with a sad sigh. "Now I gotta really work for it, you know? And to keep it, too. Like I can sober up so fast. I'm totally losing my number one excuse for doing stupid shit. It's the worst." She snorted and took another drink, shaking her head. She felt almost wistful at the thought of Mason again. Rangi obviously really cared about them, really missed him. It was probably one of the shittiest things in the world to bond over: missing someone you loved. She did manage a large smile, a laugh. "Totally shitting. I think I was named after an aunt or something. I wish I was named after Kitty Pryde. That would have been so cool of my parents. They're kind of lame, though. They don't keep up with comics super well."
"Eat dirt, huh? Trash talk begins already. You know, if I get more muscle and get buff, I'd be pretty unstoppable right? I have the hair, the accent, and the brains, add brawn to that? Watch out!" He began to laugh at that, likely the doing of drugs but there was a bit of relief in just talking casually, pretending that nothing had gone wrong. He wanted it to last longer. "Out of here first would be nice, though." He began to grow weary of these walls already. "Katherine is derived from a cat?" he teased, but soon conceded point to her, "I know, I know, you're so cool." And he meant that genuinely. About to say something on the joking side but clocking her expression Dhruv settled with a small nod, "I will be eventually. Are you going to be okay? I'm more worried about you than me."
"Better get used to it, punk," Kitty said before she burst out laughing. "Okay, well get on it, then. Because right now, I could totally kick your British butt, good hair and big brains and all." But it was fun. She was just so relieved that he was okay that she'd do just about anything, she thought. Teasing him was the best way that Kitty knew to show affection. Dhruv was her friend, and he was kind of her responsibility. She just wanted him to be okay. She needed it, really. "Out of here first would be great. Soon. You're gonna be just fine, soon, and out of here, and then I'll kick your butt at soccer. But yeah, asshole, Katherine is derived from cat." She stuck her tongue out at him but smiled. It softened a lot, and she gently bumped her shoulder with his. "I'm not the one in the hospital, dude. I'm fine. I'm gonna be just fine. And so are you."
Pulling his jacket closer around himself, Tommy hurried towards his jeep when a half-familiar voice called him over. Last time we met a stranger in the dark, we got stabbed. His inside voice was surprisingly loud that night. But did we die?
"Hi," he called, meeting her at her very run-down truck, "uh, I don't know much but I could give it a try." Snow blurring his vision, he finally realised who had called him in the first place. Kitty something. She was in the pack. He had tried on more than one occasion to talk to her, even to just say hi, but always inevitably chickened out. Better late than never. "I've got a travel repair kit in my car, if you want?" He had never actually used it but it was good to be prepared.
"Dude, if you've got jumper cables, and, like, some fucking snow goggles, I might be able to figure it out myself," she joked. She perked up at the mention of a travel kit. "Oh, my god, that might actually be super helpful. I'm almost positive it's the battery. She's an old gal, and she's lived through a lot of harsh winters, but these days she's not a big fan of the cold." She patter the trucks hood fondly.
Squinting, she managed to clocked the stranger's features. "Hey, you're, uh, Tommy, right? Jas' sibling. I've seen you around a bit." She looked back into the car and got out her phone, shining the flashlight inside. She figured she could try to jump it off, first. That's probably be the best option.
A party never ceased to entertain the immortal. She loved to dance and sing. In the modern age more than ever, as women had been liberated from the social traditions of her mortal day's. Hips could swing without risk of being deemed a social pariah, and Gia indulged in the freedom often. Her estate in Celestial Hills host to wild and eccentric, exclusively private, parties with as much frequency as she could muster a reason for. Sometimes even when she could not. Which made her, despite of her centuries of life, quite up to date on the newest melodies. She'd even brag she'd inspired a few.
When her eyes met with a werewolves' familiar pair she bounded from the dance floor to the table. Her body colliding with the edge, as she zipped to a sudden stop. "Why are you sitting!? You'll only be young for a little while. Get up! Dance with me!"
"Dude, I am so good," Kitty said with a laugh. "I think you're dancing enough for three people." She held up her beer instead, taking a drink. It was kind of fun to watch Gia dance. She looked young, but Kitty knew she was a grandma trapped inside a young person's body. So it made this extra hilarious in more ways than she could say.Suresh seemed like he was up with the times, even though he was an old man, because he knew what a video game was, even though he probably saw the birth of America. Kitty would not have pegged Gia as a pop music girlie.
"I also don't like crowds! That many people all, like, pressed against each other and shit makes me feel like I'm gonna come out of my skin. Which can sort of literally happen, you know!" She'd destroyed a part of the maze from feeling claustrophobic. It could happen here, too, and that'd sort of kill the party vibe.
"Since when?" She blinked over at Kitty. Her drunken thoughts beginning to spiral as she continued to wrack her brain for the lyrics. "Happy belated birthday," She exclaimed, only for her to scrunch her nose as Kitty told her glad sounded cooler. "Glad tidings sound like the brand of zip lock bags and those tide pods had a baby," She mumbled out as she slumped her head onto Kitty's shoulder. "You are. You're that Supercat or whatever her name is, from the comic books," She nodded along in agreement. "Gracias."
"Since 'God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen' was written? I don't know, dude, I wasn't there, y'know?" She snorted. "Thanks. You're, like, super drunk right now. C'mon, c'mon. I can get us there, but you've got to at least be a little helpful." She made a face. "Shadowcat," she mumbled. "I can give you a piggyback ride if you can't walk, but let's get moving. To food! To sobriety! Sort of!"
He reacted immediately when she returned his hug with an extra squeeze for good measure. Physical interaction came so naturally as a wolf, he knew if they were both shifted he wouldn't hesitate to lean all his bulky weight on her side, maybe to the point of annoyance, but with the insistent pressure that would tell her he was there, he would always be there. It was harder to translate that to a human form, but he thought it kinda did, and he couldn't resist bonking his forehead gently into the side of her head, another wolf-gesture. "He sounds pretty badass. You guys really wanted to change, huh?" He tried for levity, even under the circumstance, just as a quiet nudge that he could give her to remembering Parker before his last moments. But as the anguish shook through her, he pulled her over to sit on one of the low couches in the den, the surface marred by so many claw marks that it barely counted as fabric anymore, in a silent push to get her to take a seat with him.
Nico took a beat, and then just explained, naturally as he could, what he knew. "I had that too. Not every shift, but some of them, especially when I was younger, the really rough times. And the closest I can tell, from what I've learned... Not everyone gets those blank spots, but I think anyone can? They're more common with those of us who had violence in the changing. There's a lot about it that's like, textbook post-traumatic stress disorder?" He tilted his head, but continued, figuring that Kitty probably had a lot of the same questions that had driven him when he was younger. The why's, and the what-the-fuck-do-I-do's. "Not a lot of research to go off, right, 'cause... obviously we got bigger issues, no pens, no thumbs—we don't usually write it down. Even after. But I think, a lot of the time it's our minds' way of trying to take care of us, a bit. Or in our case, our wolf. There's all sorts of... I mean it's a metaphor, the wolf is you, but it's a helpful one, so... whatever. I mostly got Cs in English." He paused. "Cause the wolf, it usually does what it thinks will keep us safe. I think it's also why new wolves tend to bite more, even when they know they shouldn't. Your whole body becomes a strange bad place, so the wolf has to do what it can, just to survive... Maybe yours wants to avoid feeling the pain in that moment again. She doesn't want that memory to stick with you. She's trying to protect you, even if it's not actually that helpful." Nico winced and gave her a soft, wry grin. "But it was probably worse for the cows, huh?"
It was familiar, to seek out comfort, to want to be help, touched. It was human, sure, but it was the wolf, too. Kitty could recognize that. She'd learned to, over the last few years. On good days, she thought she was getting the hang of it, as long as she didn't remind herself about her short comings, everything that she'd done wrong with it. She sniffled. "I wanted to change. He... wanted to do things with me. I wonder, a lot, if I pressured him into the bite. It wasn't, like, spray painting a train or making donuts on the football field in my truck. I guess we didn't get that it'd be... life altering." Life ending. She managed a smile. "He was such a dork. One time, he got his pants hung on a fence and had to run home in his underwear in the snow. And this wasn't when we were kids, either. We were nineteen." He choked on smoking cigarettes and always had holes in his socks, even when his dad constantly bought him new packs. He was her favorite person for most of her life. She missed him like crazy.
Kitty looked at Nico, her eyes wide. "You did?" she asked. It was almost impossible to think about. Nico was the alpha. That meant something. To know that he'd struggled with this shit... It was almost a relief. She wiped away some of her tears. "Sometimes it's hard to see that she-- me-- we're the same person. Thing. Entity, I guess. Like, I don't know. Sometimes, when I'm a wolf, I'm still me. I'm still myself and, like, aware. But sometimes I'm not, and it's just her, and she's a literal fucking animal, you know? Like, what do I do with that? It's so weird." She snorted. "I don't feel safe, though. Doesn't she-- I-- Why can't I get that? I'm doing more harm than good when I block that shit. To myself and the cows," she managed to joke.
With: @ofbloodandsnow
Where: Peggy's diner, out in the snow
The sound of an engine trying and failing to start would be music to Kitty's ears if it was happening to literally anyone else, but it was unfortunately becoming the soundtrack to her evening. "Fucking, fucking fuck fuck fucker," she muttered, dropping her head onto the steering wheel. When she lifted it back up, she could visibly see her breath as it puffed out in a cloud when she sighed, moving to get out of the old truck.
"Why are you doing this to me?" she asked as she lifted up the hood, peering into the engine. "You're South Dakota born and raised, dude. Why the fuck are you giving out on me now?" She wondered if her hand-me-down clunker was on her last life, but, no. That wasn't possible. This truck was supposed to survive the apocalypse. A little cold weather wouldn't do it in.
Seeing someone else out, she waved over, not quite able to pick out who it was as the snow was starting to come down harder. "Hey!" she called out. "I don't suppose you know how to resuscitate a truck, do you?"
"Ugh, you're drinking light beer? It's a party, c'mon! Grab some good stuff!" Rangi encouraged, but she wasn't going to force it on her, of course. Rangi didn't know Kitty all too well, but she knew that her and Mason were close as well, and that was enough for her to feel a little soft and perhaps protective of the younger girl. "Only if you want, though. Totally no pressure." Rangi's smile strained, for a moment, and she took a long sip of her drink, nodding. "Great, doing great, right now, for sure." She was doing so great right now. The ever important right now. Swallowing, she added, "Yeah, sure, no-- no problem. I uh, have more of them. Old ones, from his collection. If you want 'em. He kept trying to get me into X-Men and I just think...they'd be better off with you, ya know? If you want 'em."
Kitty laughed, shaking her head as she took a drink. "I'm totally drinking for the taste of it, at this point. It takes me forever to get a buzz these days." She raised up her bottle, grinning, "No pressure, got it. I never gave into peer pressure in school, though. Mostly because I did the peer pressuring." She nodded along. Kitty wasn't sure if it looked like Rangi was doing great, but it looked like she was doing, and Kitty guessed that was good enough. She blinked. "Really?" she asked, her voice soft and quiet. "I mean, I'd-- I'd really dig them. Like, a lot." Comics, growing up, were an escape, a way to think about people who came into their own awesome powers, or who came to get powers of their own. And Kitty couldn't help but want that, couldn't help but want to be special in some way. It was easy to get lost in those worlds for hours at a time. "I was named after Kitty Pryde, you know," she said with a wide grin.
"Wait-" She scrunch up her brows as she let out a groan. Her bottom lip jutted out into a pout as she whined, "It's glad tidings? I thought it was good tidings. Isn't it Good tidings good cheer something something something something?" Her brows scrunched as she started trying to remember the lyrics to We Wish You a Merry Christmas to no avail. "True! To the dinner!" She exclaimed. "Though, I may need some help getting there. Feet don't work too well right now."
"Yeah, dude, it's like 'glad tidings of comfort and joy,'" Kitty said. "I know the Christmas songs, they're like always playing around my birthday. There's also good tidings, but glad tidings sounds cooler." She laughed, her head tilting back as she breathed in the cold night air. It felt nice to laugh, to hang out with her drunk friend, to go get something warm and greasy from the diner. "You're lucky I'm basically a superhero with super strength," Kitty teased. "I can get us there, no problemo."
With a shake of his head at the Americanness, Dhruv shook her hand despite it all, "You're on." It seemed like a fun challenge and something that would have him outdoors for a change, which he began to crave rather quickly after being kidnapped and held in a basement. Settling with a sigh as he watched her slump, he listened on without comments, initial moment of mild freak out and panic subsiding a touch given that she was fine and alive, "I'm glad that you're okay," he said, "You'd be someone that falls off water towers, that doesn't surprise me in the slightest." He managed to crack a small smile. "Well, now that I have scars of my own, do I get any coolness points?"
"Get ready to eat dirt, chump," Kitty said happily. "But we gotta get you outta this hospital, first. And maybe some more muscle." She leaned away enough to frown at him, mock sternness overtaking her features. "Hey. I said almost fell off a water tower. I didn't actually do it. I was too cool for that, y'know? Still am. I've got the balance of a cat, right? Like, that's where my name comes from, you know?" She hummed, considering. "I guess the scars do add some coolness points, sure." She was a little quieter, a little more serious, as she added, "I'm really fucking glad you're okay, too. Or-- Or if you're not, you're gonna be."
