A/N: No beta so all the mistakes are mine.

Chapter 5

Guilt: feelings of being at fault or to blame, esp. for imagined offences or from a sense of inadequacy

Brennan lay utterly still. His face was almost as white as the sheets under his body. A tube filled his nostrils, providing him with oxygen. His chest was covered with a clean dressing, hiding the ugly burn mark under it. The morphine-rushing trough his veins took away the pain. It also filled his head and let him drift into a light sleep. But it wasn't strong enough to keep all of the memories out of his mind.

She sat under a tree reading a book. The sun was bathing her in light and the branches in shadows. Either way looked good on her, Brennan thought.

Slowly, he walked closer, always keeping an eye out for the boy who made every kid's life a living hell. Brennan was in this facility for a month now. He managed to stay away from trouble. Not with the adults but with Isaiah, though. He figured it wouldn't be smart to start a fight as long as he'd made no friends, stood alone. It didn't actually bother him to be alone. What bothered him most was to be without her. He would change that now.

"Hello big guy." She hadn't looked up but she seemed to intuitively know who stood in her light.

Brennan couldn't move. Her voice echoed in his ears and he feared to forget the sweet sound of it if he moved.

"Wanna sit down or stay where you are, big guy?"

Her hand touched the place beside her and somehow it made Brennan's cheeks blush.

"I am Brennan." It was all he said when he sat down an inch away, afraid of coming any closer, afraid of touching her.

She looked up from the page she was reading and the blue of her eyes took Brennan's breath away, putting a deeper shade of red on his face. He almost squirmed on his seat, his hands firmly on his thighs to prevent them to just reach over and touch her. Strange thoughts ran through his mind, about the softness of her hair and if her skin would feel the way it looked like.

A small laughter escaped her. "I know, big guy. I am Katie"

‚Katie. I like that.' Brennan thought.

For a little while they sat still next to each other. Katie kept reading in her book and Brennan, he… well, just enjoyed sitting next to her. Finally, he couldn't stand the silence. He needed to say something, evoke a response from her, and hear her sweet voice again.

"What are you reading? No wait. Maybe you can read out loud to me and I'll guess?" In his mind he cursed himself for asking. He probably never guessed it right and she would think about him like a complete dork.

"Sure, why not. But I doubt you know this book."

And she began to read.

"By the time their meal was over, and the Seafearer, refreshed and strengthened, his voice more vibrant, his eyes lit with a brightness that seemed caught from some far-away sea beacon, filled his glass with the red and glowing vintage of the South, and, leaning towards the Water Rat, compelled his gaze and held him, body and soul, while he talked. Those eyes were of the changing foam-streaked grey-green of leaping Northern seas; in the glass shone a hot ruby that seemed the very heart of the South, beating for him who had courage to respond to its pulsation. The twin lights, the shifting grey and the steadfast red, mastered the Water Rat and held him bound, fascinated, powerless. The quiet world outside their rays receded far away and ceased to be. And the talk, the wonderful talk flowed on- or was it speech entirely, or did it pass at times into song- shanty of the sailors weighing the dripping anchor, sonorous hum of the shrouds in a tearing North-Easter, ballad of the fisherman hauling his nets at sundown against an apricot sky, chords of guitar and mandoline from gondola or craique? Did it change into the cry of the wind, plaintive at first, angrily shrill as it freshened, rising to a tearing whistle, sinking to a musical trickle of air from the leech of the bellying sail? All these sounds the spellbound listener seemed to hear, and with them the hungry complaint of the gulls and the sea-mews, the soft thunder of the breaking wave, the cry of the protesting shingle. Back into speech again it passed, and with beating heart he was following the adventures of a dozen seaports, the fights, the escapes, the rallies, the comradeship, the gallant undertaking; or he searched islands for treasure, fished in still lagoons and dozed daylong on warm white sand..."

Brennan looked at her open-mouthed. A light smile lay on his lips without him noticing it. That was the most beautiful thing he'd ever heard. And he wasn't sure if he meant the words or the constant lovely flow of her voice.

Katie stopped, a smile now on her lips, too. "You want me to continue? Or do you know the Tale?"

He just waved her hand, bidding her to go on. Just a little longer.

"Of deep sea-fishing he heard tell, and mighty silver gatherings of the mile-long net; of sudden perils, noise of breakers on a moonless night, or the tall bows of the great liner taking shape overhead through the fog; of the merry home-coming, the headland rounded, the harbour lights opened out: the groups seen dimly on the quay, the cheery hail, the splash of the hawser; the trudge up the steep little street towards the comforting glow of red-curtained windows."

Brennan was mesmerised by her voice. He could have sat here beside her forever even when he felt a little edgy. His breath was a little fast and his skin tingled all over like he was about to be hit by a thunderstorm. He had felt the same when he stood at an open window by the age of ten. Outside, the worst Storm had raged with a power only angry Gods could have provided. All he did back then, was waiting to be touched by lightning. But of course it never happened.

His brown eyes followed her fingers moving over the lines written on the paper and he couldn't stop. He reached out and put his hand over hers.

Energy cracked from his fingers, drove into the paper of the book and burned it. Her skin, as soft as he'd imagined, was hit too. The tiny scream ringing through every part of his mind freaked him out. Katie jumped up, dropping the burning book on her way, pulling her hand away from Brennan's and shaking it to ease the sting of the heat.

Brennan was on his feet as fast as her. His face was full of emotions. Fear was as clearly visible as guilt was. He had done it again. Hurt. Her this time. For a moment longer he stared at her in horror. Then he turned and ran as fast as he could. Just away so it couldn't happen again.

He didn't see Isaiah, who strolled across the meadow towards the tree and Katie. Didn't see Isaiah noticing the redness on her hand nor the murderous look on his face, when staring after him.

All he could still see in his mind was the horrified look in Katie's face when she'd felt the pain…

Brennan struggled fiercely to wake up. His eyes rolled under the closed lids; his lips twitched in agony when one of his hands accidentally touched his chest while he moved them around to get a grip of what forced him back into sleep.

The nurse was attentive and quickly by his side. She pushed some buttons and more of the morphine was forced into Brennan's veins. And within seconds his struggle subsided and he was back in his dream world.

….

Night had fallen over the Foster house. Brennan was still unable to go back. He didn't want to meet Isaiah. He knew he was furious about him hurting Katie and he couldn't cope with hatred right now. He wasn't able to cope with guilt, either, that's why he didn't want to meet Katie. All he wanted was to sit here, the sturdy brick wall of the backside of the house behind his back and feel the cold chill his bones. He shivered and his lips showed a pale blue but he didn't care. At least, he could feel anything besides the fear of what he'd done.

The sound of a breaking twig startled Brennan. His head rushed up and his eyes darted around to see what had caused the noise. The dim light of the lamp wasn't much help but he found what he was looking for. Katie.

His breath was snatched from his lunges and unnoticed he pushed deeper into the wall. Brennan shook his head, didn't want her to come closer. Angrily he wiped at his eyes, to clear his view distracted by unwilling tears. His voice failed and he couldn't help but watch her come closer. Slow, step after step.

Even in the dim light her eyes shone brightly. They never left Brennan's when she closed the last gap between them, kneeling down right in front of him. He could smell her and she smelled of flowers and bubblegum. Years later when he was already an adult, he would still remember the scent.

Her hands reached out for Brennan's face and he tried to pull back. But the wall was right there and all he could do was close his eyes in vain. Her fingers were soft to the touch and very gently she wiped the tears from his cheeks. A small sob filled the air and she responded with a soft: "Hush, big guy. It's ok."

But it wasn't, not for Brennan and his tears streamed freely now over his face. Couldn't she understand? He was different. And dangerous.

"No, you are not. You are like me."

He'd never said anything out loud, had he?

"You don't have to. Not to me."

Brennan looked up through tear-filled eyes. He saw her beautiful little face right in front of his own, her very lightly shivering lips and it confused him more than ever. He thought about kissing her, for the first time, kissing a girl at all and Katie just smiled warmly at him and nodded.

Their lips met, brushed lightly over each other. It was just the slightest touch and it was wet because of Brennan's tears but it felt perfect.

Piercing green eyes watched them. They watched the girl touch the scared young Mutant and they watched them kiss. And they promised revenge. Without any mercy. Never.

And you'll be here in my arms, just sleeping