Still lovin' the reviews, people! Lets me know ya'll still care...

And, for the record, it truly disturbs me how many rabid Kurtty fans contacted me through my personal email address begging/demanding/threatening me to submit my self-proclaimed �uber-shitty� Kurtty fic I mentioned last time that I wrote, like, eons ago! I mean, honestly, what does �uber-shitty� mean to you people? I dunno, you guys kinda scare me... almost enough to make me wanna just post the freaking thing and get ya'll off my back! :D But then again, I don't take kindly to threats, so... don't do it! ^_~ Anyways, I just don't have the time to fix it up and make it presentable enough to submit. Maybe later. Sorry. :P

Disclaimer: As if! No, really, if you actually believe I own any of this (makes grand sweeping gesture) then I have some prime swamp land down in Florida you may be interested in... No, seriously. I don't own anything. (Duh?)

What the fuck...? was the first conscious thought that made it's way into Lance's brain, and subsequently, out of his mouth. Leaping from bed, he next found himself on the floor, tangled in the heap of blankets that had so kindly wanted to accompany him to wherever he was going. After removing the clingy blankets, Lance rushed to locate the source of the wailing, which had still neglected to cease.

Racing down the hallway, he quickly discerned the source of the screech: Pietro's room. Thinking the boy must presently be getting tortured/murdered/something equally horrid, Lance threw open Pietro's bedroom door, lunged through it, and tried (in the dark) to seek out the reason for the screaming.

Lance flipped the light switch, prepared to take the attacker by surprise. He was not at all prepared for the sight before him: Pietro, all alone, no attacker in sight. Pietro, however, might have sworn differently; he was sitting upright in the bed, a look of pure terror on his face. Although he had momentarily stopped his squalling, his mouth was open slightly, as if about to resume with that awful screaming. The boy looked as if he would bolt any second. Lance was momentarily taken aback by the scene in front of him, but smacked enough sense into himself to start in Pietro's direction to calm the child.

Pietro watched him advancing, eyes wide and darting back and forth, much like the stereo-typical homicidal maniac you'd see on the Saturday night movie of the week. Sensing Pietro may try to flee, Lance pounced on the younger boy, pinning Pietro beneath him to keep him under control.

Pietro grinned inwardly while his body continued to struggle. His plan had worked to a tee. He now had Lance just where he wanted him...

"What's goin' on, yo?" a sleepy Todd inquired from the doorway. Fred was perched behind him, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"You two, out," Lance ordered. He knew he needed to calm Pietro down before he could explain the recent happenings to the peanut gallery waiting at the door. He wasn't quite sure himself what had just happened. He had been aware of small moans and groans coming through the wall and invading his dreams. The sounds had actually been incorporated into his dream -- as wild animal sounds. It was that damn circus dream again. Lance shivered; he hated that dream. With a vengeance. He would be sitting contentedly, enjoying the circus, then the wild beasts would suddenly break free from their trainers and begin attacking people. Lance had been having this dream since early childhood, when a completely innocent trip to the circus had spawned an evil fear of the animals, carnies, the freaks, etc. Funny thing was, none of this had bothered him while he was there, only afterwards, when he had his first circus-inspired dream. Lance imagined this was why he disliked Xavier's furry blue menace -- the kid brought back vivid memories of both the animals and the freaks. Double whammy.

"Shhhh, Pietro, it's okay," Lance soothed, stroking Pietro's hair and slowly repositioning himself so he was sitting beside the smaller mutant. Lance kept a careful eye on Pietro, but sure enough, the second he looked away, Pietro sat bolt upright in the bed, his face colliding with the quick hand Lance placed in front of Pietro in attempt to restrain him.

Owwwie, that was not supposed to happen, Pietro reflected angrily, bringing a hand to his injured nose.

The next thing Pietro felt was Lance's hands on his shoulders, gently coaxing him back down on the bed. "Musta been some dream, Pete," Lance mused softly. "Like you wouldn't believe," Pietro mumbled in reply.

A few moments of silence. "Wanna talk about it?" Lance asked, knowing now (but, not particularly minding) that he wasn't going to be getting back to his own bed any time soon.

"Maybe."

"Do you wanna hear mine?" Lance offered, not making eye contact with the speedster.

Pietro was intrigued. So Lance is the one who really had the nightmare, and here I am stealing all the glory. Bad me! Pietro chastised himself.

"Okay."

"'Kay, it's kinda stupid, so don't laugh, all right?"

Once again, the white-haired teen was curious. Lance opening up to me? Could it get any better?

"'Kay."

"Well," Lance began, "it always starts out pretty much the same. We're all-"

"We?" Pietro badgered.

"Uh, yeah, we... me an' this girl I knew way back in the day... she was in a foster home with me. And sometimes some of my old foster parents are there too..."

"Oh."

"So, anyway, we're all at the circus, and... you'd better not laugh, Pietro!"

"Who, me?" Pietro asked innocently, with just the right amount of emotion-raw tremble in his voice from his little `episode' to sound convincingly sincere.

"Yeah, you," Lance confirmed. "We'd all be there, sitting in those really good, expensive seats, right down front and center. Musta cost `em a fortune for those tickets. But it was great. Until the animals broke free..."

Pietro was, admittedly, losing interest in listening to Lance repeat himself, well, repeatedly. He let out a small yawn, which didn't go unnoticed by the older mutant.

"Sorry, Pie... guess I started rambling a little bit there."

Ya think? Pietro mused. Lance, content that Pietro had been adequately calmed, got up off of the side of Pietro's bed where he had been perched for the past forty-five minutes to take his leave.

Pietro made a small sound of protest. Lance turned around, resting his body against the doorframe.

"Yeah?"

"Umm, well, seeing as you just told me all `bout your, uh, yeah, and I still can't stop thinking about my dream, and..." Pietro allowed his run-on sentence to trail off. He looked at Lance pathetically, blue eyes wide and pleading.

Lance sighed. "Do you want me to stay?"

Pietro's heart leapt up into his throat. Had it truly been that easy? "Well, if you wouldn't mind..."

Lance, resigned once again to not getting another wink of sleep, ambled over to the worn armchair in the far corner of Pietro's bedroom, collapsing into it with an audible groan. Well, good enough, Pietro decided. All of the `excitement' had left him feeling a bit drained.

"Lance?"

The brunette across the room replied with a somewhat sleep-slurred "Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

"G'night, Lance."

"G'night..."

Other pointless note: Spellcheck wants me to change `Xavier' to `caviar'! Ha! Never trust the Spellcheck! XD

Now, for your trivia/cool quote(s)/crazy X-Men and/or Brotherhood related thing I do (so ya'll can laugh at me)/random category thing! TM

I think, for this chapter, this selection would be most fitting:

"The X-Men are supposed to be portrayed as easy-to-like nice people, and the Brotherhood is portrayed as your classic, stereotyped juvenile delinquents. (We all know that the Brotherhood is a tight-knit family that likes having angsty problems that must be solved by Lance sleeping with Pietro, and that the X-Men are snobs as a group, but with hidden problems that make them twice as disturbed as the Brotherhood, deep down inside. Really.)"