A sigh groaned its way from between Angelica's vocal cords and spilled over into the evening air. She stared at the vast array of hues that sharply contrasted with her bleak mood. She shifted her weight backwards and hugged her knees to her chest. She turned her head towards her to her companion, Shipwreck; he was trying, and subsequently failing, to drink gin straight from the bottle without her noticing.

"Have you ever felt guilty about things beyond your control?" She asked abruptly. Reluctantly setting the bottle beside him. Shipwreck reluctantly threw himself into the conversation.

"My wife left me, three of my daughters are clinically insane and my son will probably never be able to act in a normal society. It's a valid possibility." Shipwreck couldn't help sounding extremely snide in this observation. Angelica bit her lip.
"Maybe I said that wrong."

"No, it's my fault. I shouldn't try to make things about me. In this instance, you are the important."

"That doesn't sound like you." Angelica lifted her eyebrow at Shipwreck. He smirked.

"Thanks. It's nice having a shrink who doesn't mind when you steal his lines." Angelica giggled at this.

"I'm glad I'm talking to you."

"Kid, you're quite possibly the first person to say that to me in over three years." This let the conversation temporarily dissolve into comfortable silence. They sat on the roof, staring into the sunset. Insects buzzed in the trees and night birds began to come out. Angelica quietly shifted closer to Shipwreck. A few seconds passed.

"About the feeling guilty thing…"

"Yeah?"

"When I first got here, Psychout made the girls have a group therapy. Wanda started and she just kept yammering on about being rejected by her father. I didn't know it was Magneto then. Yeah, he had attacked me. But, remember I was busy being rescued by Lance."

"How could I forget the look on Kitty's face? Like Mara's when she found out she was going to have triplets." Shipwreck interrupted. He quickly looked sheepish. "But, your story."

"Thank you. Anyway she keep talking and talking. Yes, it was awful. But she wouldn't stop. And you know what I keep thinking." Here she laughed nervously and ran her fingers threw her hair. It fell around back against her head, look lighter and slightly frenzied matching her mood. "What just kept going through my head was 'get over yourself,' 'bitch please,' and 'don't steal my thunder.' Stuff like that. She just seemed to so well adjusted and mostly in control. I know it's just a mask, but it's a damn convincing one. I, in comparison, was expectedly unstable. Lina tried to commit suicide, true, but we weren't hurting the same. I just felt… I don't know, threatened." The last bit came out rushed. Shipwreck nodded an understanding and practiced nod.

"We're only human. We like pain, don't we? It makes us special." Angelica let out a long, trembling sigh. She leaned on his shoulder, and Shipwreck stroked her hair in a fatherly manner. He found himself half reminiscing, half lost in thought. How many times had done this with his daughters, or even Wanda? They stayed like this for several minutes. The sun was more than halfway under the horizon when they spoke again.

"Something seems off." Angelica murmured.

"And you can't you put your finger on it, am I right?"

"Mm."

"Could it be that I'm this good at this?" Shipwreck smirked. Angelica lifted her head to look at him.

"Maybe." Shipwreck laughed at this.

"Come on, kid. Give me some credit. I am a father. I do stuff like this every once in a while."
"You have a point. But there's still something…" She sighed heavily. The first moths of night were out now. Angelica let her eyes follow them for a few seconds. And then it came to her. She jerked violently, her eyes open wide. A shocked look on her face, she jabbed an accusatory finger in Shipwreck's direction. "You watch 'Starting Over!'"

"What?" Shipwreck shouted. Silence entreated upon them before Angelica burst into a fit of giggles.

"Thank you. Now I really do feel better." Still giggling, Angelica graceful moved to edge of the roof and equally gracefully swung over the ledge into the open kitchen window. Shipwreck winced as the sound of cookery falling, and subsequently breaking, rang from below. Violent cursing and a rather dazed 'Ow…' ensued.

The next day

Psychout had just bid farewell to a rather angry Bazooka and was cleaning the office for his next 'appointment' (Wild Bill, incidentally) when a petulantly loud knocking came from the other side of his door. Putting his best face forward, he opened the door. On the other side stood a murderous looking Shipwreck.

"I know where you're getting my therapy." He growled. Grabbing the psychologist's collar, he stepped into the office and closed the door behind him.