Kitty continued to pace back and forth across the B&B planks, trainers screaming against the overpolished floor. Nervous cleaning, huh.

If only that were her vice; something less harmful, something that wouldn't result in such collateral damage and spontaneous re-housings. She would have taken anxious scrubbing over mutant work any day at this rate. The panic eventually simmered though, retreating back into her gut, leaving her feeling sick. Since the beginning of your relationship, Kitty vowed to never bring her work home. But after the latest Sentinel attack, you didn't even have that — decimated apartment, memories. Everything you had worked so hard for.

And that gnarly gash you had picked up. "I can't believe I let this happen," she murmured, peeling back the haphazard bandage her more nervy hands had previously applied, dabbing on some sort of antiseptic. "God— I'm so sorry."