80 Chapter 80: Daywalking

"I was going to enter through your door…. But I saw Kurt teleporting from your window like he was hurt. I assumed the worst." Ilyana explained as she stood in his living room.

Her hair was tied up in a messy bun, leaving her perfectly cut bangs sitting right over her eyebrows. Even so he knew they were close-knit with worry as she looked at him in his new form.

"What is this…?"

He watched her hands ball into fists in the pockets of her leather jacket.

"Alright, Mend." The suit disappeared in a flash, leaving Bronte standing in the kitchen. "You want a beer?"

"No, I want to know what happened here."

In some ways she didn't change.

Brontë walked out of the kitchen, holding eye contact with Ilyana as he approached his bed and sat on the end.

He patted his right side, "Sit down."

Ilyana walked over and sat on the bed like it was the first one she'd been on in years. The sight of her looking around his apartment triggered a memory suddenly.

"You remember when I was in your room at the Institute..? Man that was years ago."

"When you were out trying to learn your powers."

Brontë nodded, "That night ended up going sideways as hell…. But it was a good start."

"You called me your friend." Ilyana's voice warmed but her face remained as stoic as ever. "Speaking of powers."

Brontë nodded as he raised his hand and let her see it shift into a bladed appendage.

"What is it? This mutation is….." Ilyana looked as confused as anyone.

"Not a mutation. A Symbiote."

"Like…. Spider-Man?"

"Im not sure. I only just learned Spider-Man ever had one." Bronte said.

"I see…." Ilyana shook her head, causing her golden bun of hair to bounce, "How…?"

Brontë rested his hand on the head of one of the dogs seated in front of them both. A young male pitbull. Mend slithered over the canines bulky frame.

"I said I was staying stuck to YOU!" Mend complained.

"Just give me a second." Bronte allowed Ilyana to see his missing arm.

"Daken got me on Krakoa. He got everybody." Bronte explained, "Raze tried to overpower him— but he chose to save me instead. In the process he left me with Mend. Who is…. My relative. Like a niece or nephew."

"Raze was an….. alien?" Ilyana seemed to be getting the bulk of it.

"He was a hybrid."

"And this is his child…" Ilyana looked at Mend. Now a four foot tall slime skinned canine with glowing tattooed skin and statically charged drool.

"Hello. Brontë thinks highly of you…." Mend held out a paw.

"See— this is why I didn't let you stay connected."

Ilyana's cheeks warmed as she shook Mend's…. paw.

"Of course…. You are very different from Raze."

Mend and Bronte's faces twisted in confusion.

"What?"

"All the Symbiotes I've run into have names that describe them pretty accurately. Venom entered Spider-Man's life and took hold of him like…. Well Venom from a Snake. Everytime I've seen Carnage it's through fire and blood. Raze was his own brand of violence and destruction. Mend…. How do you feel about death?"

Mend sat, tongue hanging as the beast thought, "It comes when it must. But….WE…. feel that more can be done in life…."

Ilyana looked at Bronte. For the first time it wasn't something negative. He could've looked at the curve of her lips for hours. A much better start to his morning then teleporting demonic Mutants begging for beer.

"AHH!— Is this where you guys kiss? Brontë hasn't brushed his teeth yet! Don't denigrate yourself in such a way, woman!"

Brontë hadn't felt flustered in a while. The heat rising up his neck and settling in his cheeks made him itchy. Made him want to escape. Made him smile.

"Yea…. I'm gonna go brush my teeth. Mend, you're this close to going outside."

Ilyana shrugged, "I did not mind."

Brontë stopped halfway from getting up off his bed and side eyed her, "Oh word..?"

"Of course not, I was smiling at the mental image of me barfing on you." Ilyana pushed him off his bed.

Brontë shook his head as he walked to the bathroom, "We gotta work on those jokes."

"Combating Vampires first."

Brontë was back to reality quicker than lightning flashed. He reached for the faucet and turned the silver knob to get the water running as his mouth went dry.

Red blood flowed. Glowing eyes peered at him from the bubbles as it pooled in the sink. Brontë popped his claws.

Due to the small size of the bathroom and the large size of himself, his elbow bone claw ripped apart the shower curtain behind him.

"Shit!—"

Ilyana stepped through a glowing disc and was suddenly standing at the door scoping out the bathroom.

"Are you alright..?"

Brontë recovered and pulled the toothbrush out of his mouth, "….I slipped…."

The water was normal again. No eyes. No red.

Within the awkward silence that followed, Bronte got to work on his hygiene, deciding to work on his face after brushing his teeth and gums raw.

He usually didn't shave since his facial hair grew back in hours. And it was so dense it broke razors, but he wasn't alone. So there was no reason to bum it out.

Ilyana remained by the door the entire time. His knight in shining demon armor. How wonderful.

When he finished, he slapped aftershave on his face.

"Why do that…? You can walk out of explosions unharmed."

"Habit. Laura told me the best way to fit in is to do everything like regular people…. Until it becomes second nature. Because the little things build up. Not shaving. Not wearing coats in the winter. Not getting tired lifting boxes. You know…."

Laura nodded, "I never considered….."

She followed him as he slid past her and left the bathroom to re-enter the living room.

Brontë looked around the room. The dogs sat around his bed and at the window. Pockets of dark sand littered the wood floors along with beers sitting on the counter top in the kitchen.

"Speaking of little things…. What was Kurt here for."

"That sounded so crazy."

Ilyana held his gaze, signifying she was done with jokes in light of possible danger.

"The Institute and the X-Men as a whole are looking to make trades with the X-Kind of Krakoa. Take some of their inexperienced Mutants and give them a tamer environment to learn, while gaining some more…. Moral Mutants. One of them being my sister."

"What did you say?"

"I said hell no." Bronte replied. "She just got a sort of stable life I'm not sending her into a new…. Living environment run by a terrorist." Bronte explained.

"People call us terrorists." Ilyana said flatly.

"I'm not people. I'm me." Bronte said confidently, "They can play those cards with somebody else."

"I understand. Piotr would probably treat me the same."

"Good." Bronte replied.

"This cause a scuffle between you two?" Ilyana squatted down over a pile of black dust.

"Actually, it didn't…. He invited me to a summit."

Ilyana's head swung around to look at him. The piercings in her ear jingled faintly, "That's a big event."

"Cool." Bronte brushed off whatever conversation might've come from that, "After he left…. I touched the dust and it opened up a rift or something…"

Ilyana shot to her feet and grabbed Bronte's hand, studying his palms and fingers.

"That's…. That's probably why he looked so disoriented….. You sure you don't have anymore on you?"

"If I did it would also be on my face. And in my hair."

"Dammit!" Ilyana got closer and began poking at his cheeks and eyebrows until Bronte grabbed her hand.

As she stood on her tiptoes their noses nearly touched.

"I'm good…"

"ERHM….. your breath smells nice." Ilyana said in that same flat and cold tone.

"No more barf visions?"

Ilyana got closer so their chests touched. Brontë's heart beat a second faster until he saw her brown eyes scanning his face still.

"False alarm.." He thought to himself.

"No. Now I'm having visions of ways your magic may have messed with the barriers splitting this world from the Brimstone Dimension."

She dropped back down to the flats of her feet and backed away from him.

"What the hell is a Brimstone Dimension?"

"It's like my dimension. Do you remember?"

"Limbo…."

Ilyana nodded, "It's like the Limbo Dimension. Only instead of plain demons ruled by the wielder of the SoulSword. It's full of Mutant variants of Angels and Demons called Cheyarafim and Neyaphem. They're in an eternal war."

"So hell… again."

Ilyana looked at him seriously, "Hell was always a metaphor for other places and things…."

"Did you see anything?" She asked.

"Something tried to take Bronte's throat! This is why I must stay with him. He cannot be Mended properly if he's always broken…" Mend explained from Bronte's bed.

Ilyana looked deep in thought, "Bronte, if the Neyaphem learn another can free them besides Kurt, they may grow attached to you. As a matter of fact, it would be foolish of us not to consider they don't already know you."

"What..? That was my first time meeting Nightcraw— Kurt."

"But we have an enemy who's gathering forces. Everywhere. Only days ago we learned he's in contact with people of the sea, are people of the darkness not to be considered?"

Brontë sighed.

"….. Fuck."

"Let's go talk to Blade."