A Friend in Need III: Crash and Burn

By Somogyi

Chapter 12

Jean lay in bed on her side, her good arm tucked beneath her pillow, her bandaged arm on top of the covers. She had been trying to sleep for hours now, but to no avail. She could not stop thinking about Bobby. Could it really be that morning that they were laughing, fooling around, talking? And now he was gone. Dead. No more funny comments, no more practical jokes. No more warm smiles, or even warmer hugs-ironic, given his mutant powers.

She swiped at her cheeks with her finger. The movement made her draw a sharp breath. Her arm was throbbing. It was no wonder she could not fall asleep, the way her burns ached. Though she would never think of doing anything to endanger her unborn child, right now she really wished that she could take painkillers-or at the very least, something to help her sleep.

She tried to allow her mind to relax, attempting some meditation techniques. Every time she was on the verge of sleep, though, thoughts of her recent nightmare would resurface, and she was once again wide awake, afraid to relive the horrible images of her dream world. Mere thoughts of the evil smile sent a shiver down her spine. She pulled the covers up to her chin, trying not to jostle her arm.

At some point, she heard the door open. She held her breath, prepared to strike out and flee if necessary.

Get a hold of yourself, Jean, she thought. That was just a dream. The bogeyman is not coming for you, or your baby.

She watched as Isabella quietly crept into the room. The nurse walked over to the bedside to check the IV pump and other equipment. Glancing down at the bed, she saw Jean looking back up at her.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't. I can't sleep."

"Oh? Do you need anything?"

"Nothing you can give me," Jean replied, trying to roll onto her back. She bit back a gasp as she moved her injured arm.

"You're in pain," Isabella said simply.

"A little," Jean admitted.

"A lot, if it's preventing you from sleeping."

Jean sighed. "I'd better get used to it. It's not like there's anything that can be done about it."

"There might be something. . . ." Isabella hesitated, biting her bottom lip.

"What, you mean that cream you put on earlier? It helps for a little while, but it won't last."

"I don't mean the cream." She turned around, glanced at the door as though ensuring that no one was nearby, before approaching the bed. When she spoke next, her voice was barely above a whisper. "Jean, I know a way to ease your pain. But you have to promise not to tell anyone-most especially Dr. Gauche."

Curiosity piqued, Jean sat up. "What is it?"

"First, you have to promise."

"Is it legal?"

Isabella smiled. "It's nothing like that. It doesn't involve drugs."

"What, then? Acupuncture? Hypnosis?"

"Do you want to be able to sleep, or not?"

Jean sighed. "All right. I promise not to tell anyone. Now, will you tell me?"

"It'll be easier to just show you. First, though, I need to remove the bandage."

"All right." Jean watched as Isabella brought over a sterile drape, which she opened over Jean's lap. Then she donned a pair of latex gloves before removing the bandage. Her nimble fingers were as gentle as possible as she tried to not jostle Jean's tender flesh.

When the bandage was finally removed, she carefully lowered Jean's arm onto the drape on her lap.

"Now what?" Jean asked.

"Now, I need you to relax," Isabella said. She pulled over a chair to the bedside, settled down in it. "And please don't say anything; I need to concentrate."

"Concentrate? On wh-?"

Isabella placed a finger to her lips, and Jean quickly shut her own mouth. Nodding, she took a deep breath and willed herself to relax.

Isabella closed her eyes as she apparently centered herself. Slowly, her eyes opened, and she began to sing. Not words per se-merely a soft, haunting melody. Jean would have laughed at the absurdity of the situation, if she had not found the tune so captivating. She watched, entranced, as the emotion expressed in the song filled Isabella's face. Her beautiful violet eyes pooled with tears. Jean watched as the tears brimmed and spilled over, sliding down her cheeks. One tear dripped down past her jaw and onto Jean's arm. She could barely feel the wetness on her injured skin.

As she turned her attention back to Isabella and her song, Jean suddenly noticed that her arm felt warmer than usual. Glancing down, she saw that there was a soft violet glow where the tear had fallen. As Isabella continued to sing, the light slowly grew in size and intensity, creating a gentle warmness along with it. She gasped as the light covered her entire arm, consuming it. The heat seemed to be flowing through her veins, though it was never strong enough to be painful-not as hot as the burn that had created the injuries in the first place. Soon, the glow became too bright-blinding-and Jean had to close her eyes and turn her head away.

She kept her eyes closed until she heard Isabella stop singing. Then she turned back. Staring down at her arm, she could not believe her eyes.

The flesh was completely healed.

"Oh my God," Jean gasped. She slowly raised her arm, turning it this way and that to examine the now unblemished skin.

"How does it feel?" Isabella asked. She sounded exhausted.

"There's no more pain," Jean replied, still staring at her arm in disbelief. "It's as though it was never burned." She looked over at the nurse. "How did you do this? How did you . . . heal me?"

"I have a special . . . talent," she replied softly, getting to her feet. She wavered, though, and quickly sat back down, bringing a shaking hand to her head.

"It takes a lot out of you."

Slowly, Isabella nodded. "But it's worth it. I hate to see people suffer." She managed a weary smile.

"Isabella, are you a mutant?"

"I must re-bandage your arm," she said, ignoring Jean's inquiry, "so that no one finds out. Especially-"

"Dr. Gauche?" Jean finished for her.

Slowly, Isabella nodded. She got to her feet, stood for a moment to test her legs. She remained steady, and silently walked across the room to gather more bandaging materials.

"Why are you so afraid of him?"

"I told you, he has a temper," she replied as she started to wrap Jean's arm again.

"Surely you can lodge a complaint against him, if he treats you improperly."

"It's more complicated than that. Please, Jean, I have a headache. I don't want to talk about this right now."

"Is that from using your powers?"

"Small price to pay for helping you, easing your pain. I just need a good night's rest, and then I'll be good as new. There, all done." She gathered the remaining bandaging materials and silently put them away.

Jean knew that the young woman had put a great deal on the line, revealing her secret in order to help her. Perhaps acting in kind would encourage the other woman to open up more. "Isabella, I . . . I'm a mutant too. I also have special gifts."

The nurse paused in her tasks for a moment, but did not reply as she then continued to tidy up the room.

"You don't seem surprised by this revelation."

Isabella shrugged. "I . . . suspected. From how you reacted earlier, during your concern over the baby. I guess maybe we all have some sort of sixth sense, being able to recognize each other."

"It's usually a little more straightforward for me, actually. I'm a telepath and a telekinetic-I can read people's thoughts, and move things with my mind. Only, for some reason, my powers have not been working since I woke up here. Do you know why that might be?"

"I have no idea."

Isabella had not looked directly at Jean since healing her. Now she seemed especially uncomfortable. Was it merely because she was afraid Gauche would learn of what she had done? Her fear seemed much more irrational than what one would expect from a timid employee toward a commandeering boss.

"Isabella, has Dr. Gauche done something to hurt you? Has he said something inappropriate? Has he touched you?"

Averting her eyes, Isabella shook her head. "No, it's nothing like that. Please, Jean, I can't talk about this-not now, not here. I really need to get to bed. You should rest, too. You've got more than yourself to think of now, after all."

Slowly, Jean nodded. Isabella was spooked right now; pushing any further would send her scurrying away, perhaps prevent her from revealing any additional information. Instead, she decided to bide her time.

"You're right, Isabella. Thank you for healing me."

She was rewarded with a brilliant smile. "You're quite welcome. Sleep well."

After Isabella left, Jean lay back down onto her side. She looked down at her arm, now good-as-new below the bandage. Something about Isabella's reaction still did not sit right with her. It seemed to be more than fear of being discovered by her coworkers as a mutant. Something else was going on here.

For instance, why the hell weren't Jean's own powers working? She had not hit her head in the accident-at least, not as far as she could remember. Why then hadn't her telepathy and telekinesis returned?

There was definitely something strange going on here. She was determined to get to the bottom of the mystery.

She yawned, and suddenly found herself barely able to keep her eyes open. Her mind grew fuzzy with fatigue.

Isabella's right about one thing-I do need to keep my strength up, for the baby. I'll figure this out-tomorrow.

Jean closed her eyes, and was soon fast asleep.

End Chapter 12