Disclaimer: I sadly do not own the rights to Marvel, or Fox, or even the Pink song that has the same title as my story. It just so happens that I've ripped them all off. But I'm poor, so what are you going to do about it?... I so need a job. Please enjoy.

Breathing is an awfully curious thing. We rarely notice we're doing it and yet it's so important to us. Our very life depends on it. I will be the first to admit that I myself will be the first to admit that I myself take it for granted much more than I should. However, as I lay in bed later that day, unable to breathe through my nose even with the humidifier that Uncle Scott had brought up for me, I vowed that once I got over my cold, I would never take it for grated ever again.

There was a knock on my door and I called out for whomever it was to come in. The door creaked open.

"Is the patient well enough for a visitor?" I heard Logan's voice ask through the creak in the door.

I laughed. "Yeah, I've been given full clearance from the doctor. Come on in."

He pushed his way into the room and held up a pint of ice cream. "I brought medicine," he said with a smile.

"Oh, you lovely, lovely man you. Where did you find that? I've searched all over the school looking for some."

He walked over to my bed and handed me the pint of Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough ice cream and a spoon. "Yeah, they have these odd things called stores where you actually buy stuff like that now," he teased. He pulled the chair away from my desk and placed it beside my bed before sitting down. He then propped his feet up onto my bed beside mine. "What'd Red say was wrong with you, aside from the obvious?"

"Oh, you're too funny," I said dryly, pulling the lid from the carton and taking a bite. "She said I have a cold and that I'll be better in a few days."

"What is that?" he asked, jabbing a pointed finger in the direction of the machine blowing out steam in the floor at the end of my bed.

"It's a humidifier."

"What's it do?"

"It puts moister into the air so it makes it easier to breathe."

"Does it work?"

"Not real well I'm afraid, no."

"You need to go to the spa room."

"I beg your pardon?" I asked through a mouthful of ice cream.

"The spa room in the gym. When you turn the hot tub on it fills the room up with steam. It'd be like sittin' inside one of those things," he explained, pointing to the humidifier again. I looked at him quizzically. "You knew we had a hot tub, right?"

"I didn't know we had a gym," I joked. "No, I'm just confused by why you know so much about the spa room. You don't seem like the kind of guy who would use anything with the word 'spa' in it."

"My bones start hurtin' every once in a while and I go sit in the hot tub until they work themselves out."

"That sounds pretty good to me," I said, tossing him the remote control. Nothing was on that I cared to watch anyway, so I might as well have let him get comfortable and have control of it. "I'll have to go down and try to figure it out later."

"I can show you," he said, turning the channel to some John Wayne movie. "I'm still not feelin' too good today and was gonna' go down there later tonight."

I looked over at him and raised my eyebrow. "If this is some lame attempt to get me into a bathing suit of some kind, I'll have to know that that is not going to happen. Aside from the fact that I didn't bring one, I just want to stay in my pajamas and breath."

He laughed. "It's alright, you don't need a bathin' suit; I don't wear one," he said, looking over and winking at me.

"I do hope you're not serious."

"Hey, I stay on my side, you stay on yours, no peakin' and we'll be all right."

"You are so disgusting." I laughed.

"Come on kid, there's nothing wrong with it."

I shook my head. "I think I'll just go on my own and figure it out."

"All right, fine, obviously you're so attracted to me you're too afraid to be in the same room as me while I've got my clothes off."

"Are you completely serious? Would you listen to yourself? You are so incredibly conceited," I said, laughing at him.

"You agreed you weren't gonna' lie anymore, so you can't say that's not true. It's fine, a lot of women are attracted to me, I'm used to it by now, but you're gonna' have to learn how to control yourself around me sooner or later."

"Oh my word," I said, laughing as I shook my head. "I apologize, you're right. There's just something about you that's so…humble, and it drives me wild. Actually, I'm not only completely attracted to you, but I think I'm in love with you as well."

"Sorry darlin', I can't help it. Women just fall for me."

I let out a sigh. "Thanks for the laugh, but on a more serious note, Jean said that it's not your fault that I'm sick. I didn't want to tell you, I thought I might be able to milk the guilty thing for a while, but she said I had to tell you."

He reached over and took the pint of ice cream from my hands. "Well, if it's not my fault, then you don't get any medicine," he said and took a bite of it.

"That's not very nice. It doesn't matter whose fault it is, all that should matter is that I'm sick and you love me and you want to make me feel better." He took another bite and then handed it back to me. "Thank you."

We sat and watched the movie, whatever it was, for nearly half an hour as we passed the ice cream back and forth until it was gone.

"I can't breathe," I whined, sliding down into my bed as John Wayne shot three different men.

"Get up, then."

"I don't want to get up."

He turned off the TV and stood up. "You can't breathe, we're doin' something about it."

He helped me to stand as I followed him as we left my room. It was nearly one o'clock in the afternoon and the halls were empty. I padded behind him in my pajamas and house shoes slowly as he walked to the gym.

On our way there, we passed by several classes in progress and as I looked at a few of the students, I wondered how they did it. How could they, kids, teenagers, be so brave as to be honest about who they were? I knew that not all of the students were runaways and that some had families that didn't know that they were mutants, but I couldn't imagine being so brave and bold as the ones that had told their families. They had to have known their family's stance on the matter, as it's a very personal topic that I believe on which everyone has strong opinions. I didn't believe that I could ever do it and that thought made me feel guilty. It reminded me of the first conversation I had had with Logan on the subject. He said that he wouldn't change because it's him. In a way, I agreed, but then I completely disagreed. Strange how that some times happens, isn't it? It was part of me, but it didn't define me. I could hide it and no one would know. Those who chose not to hide it; they earned my utmost respect.

Those born brave were the ones who could not hide who they were. The ones with more physical differences. The ones that were born not only genetically different, but born so that you could tell. Little babies born blue, or with scales, or a tail. Although Rogue looked normal, she couldn't touch and that was something she couldn't hide.

Now, it's not that I don't have respect and admiration for those of us who don't have a choice in whether everyone knows what they are; I do completely. But just knowing that there's a prospect of losing everything you have and love and choosing to give it all up because you feel so strongly about being who you really are, that makes me proud and guilty all at the same time. They were still in high school and had more courage than I probably ever would. It goes to prove that age really is nothing but a number.

When we arrived at the gym, I realized that Logan was completely serious about not wearing anything in the hot tub.

"So, how do you wanna' do this? You wanna' go in and keep your eyes closed while I'm changin' or what?" he asked with a smirk. The jerk was actually smirking. He thought this was funny.

I rolled my eyes at him. "To save your modesty, I'll just wait out here until you're done and everything's…covered and even you can yell at me and call me in."

"All right," he said, continuing to smirk at me as he entered the double doors marked 'Spa'. I myself smiled a little at the sight of big, burly Wolverine going into a spa and let out a small laugh.

I waited outside the doors for about five minutes. After wondering what in the world was taking so long and debating whether I should go ahead and go in, I decided against it. Surely, he hadn't forgotten about me. I paced around outside, attempted to do the few simple ballet moves that mother had taught me when I was much younger. After a few tries, I managed to get myself up on my toes, but then quickly lose my balance as soon as Logan called for me to come in.

I opened the door and a roll of steam hit me in my face. After it cleared and I adjusted to the room, I saw Logan sitting in the hot tub, his arms stretched out on the sides and his eyes closed. I looked over at the padded bench that lined the right wall. It was about three feet wide and I saw that Logan had made me a small, makeshift bed on it. Complete with a towel stretched out over the seat and a rolled up one at the top for a pillow. I walked over to it, kicked off my house shoes underneath the bench and lay down on it. After a few moments, I realized that my breath was much better.

"Thank you," I said.

"For what?"

"Making me try this, it really helps."

"Don't worry about it. Just as long as it keeps you from whining." He laughed. I loved his laugh. It was deep and rough and sounded as if he had gargled with lava. In short; it was beautiful.

Logan was a real man's man. I had heard people say that there were certain guys that men wanted to be and women wanted to be with. I thought it was all just a stupid saying, until I met him. Then I realized that they had meant it about Logan. Although by that time I had understood that what Uncle Scott had told me about Logan was true, it didn't really bother me. So what if he was a crude, egotistical, sarcastic jerk? He had a charm about him that seemed to make it not matter. He wasn't mean, as a matter of a face, he had been quite nice to me. There was a certain connection between the two of us that I didn't fully understand. There was just something about him that made me feel comfortable and at ease with him, no matter the situation. I wasn't sure if anyone else ever felt that way around him, but that's how I felt.

"Would you rather; lose your sense of taste or smell?" I asked, closing my eyes and relaxing in the warm room.

He made a sound that it had taken me time to realize meant that he was thinking inside of being annoyed. "Smell, I guess."

"Really?"

"Yeah. What about you?"

"Taste. I love food, sweets are great, but there's just something about scents that make things come alive, you know? It's tied to memory, relaxation, emotion; I would be really upset if I lost my sense of smell."

"Hm, good point."

I peaked open an eye and looked over at him. He was sunk down into the water up to his chest and was combing back his hair with a wet hand. "Does that mean you change your mind?" I asked, closing my eyes once again.

"Yeah, I guess so."

We back to silence after that, him trying to work the pain of his joints and me falling in and out of a sleep as I continued to be able to breathe with the help of the steam. I don't know how long we were in there, maybe half an hour or forty-five minutes, whatever it was, I was in one of my more awake periods when Uncle Scott came in.

"Logan, have you seen Delia?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"When?"

"Last time I opened my eyes."

"What?"

I laughed. "I'm over here," I called from the bench.

"What are you doing in here?"

"Breathing."

"Is Logan…naked?" he asked.

"Yep," Logan answered, a smirk in his voice.

"This is completely inappropriate," he protested.

"We're all naked under our clothes," I said.

Logan chuckled. "Some more than others, kid."

"The two of you are far too comfortable with each other for my own comfort," Scott said and I could tell he was shaking his head. "Delia, I need to speak to you for a minute, can we step out into the gym and then you can come back in here and…breathe, or whatever when we're done?"

I took in a deep breath. "All right, that's fine." I stood and followed him as he led me from the room back out into the gym. After being in the other room for so long, it seemed cold to me and chill bumps rose on my arms. I folded them across my chest, trying to keep them warm. "So what did you need to talk to me about?"

"First of all, I want you to tell me what's going on in there," he said, pointing behind him to the doors from which we had just come.

"You saw what was going on."

"Did I?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowing underneath his glasses.

"Do you remember when we had the discussion where you gave me permission to be around him?"

"Yeah, around him while he's clothed. I didn't think I had to be that specific."

"Look, the humidifier you brought up wasn't working so he suggested I try this. It's helping."

"That part I get, what I don't understand is how it helps you for him to be nude?"

I let out a small laugh. "It has nothing to do with it. He said his bones were hurting so he came to sit in the hot tub. That's all."

"I still don't like it."

"You don't like him."

"That's true."

"All right, what was it that you wanted?"

"Oh, Xavier said that he needed to see you in his office. He said that he has some information on what you asked him about a few days ago."

My eyes lit up. "Thank you," I said, rushing back into the spa room for my house shoes. "Sorry Logan, I've got to go, I'll see you later!"

"What's the hurry?" he asked, watching me as I slipped on my shoes.

"The Professor wants to talk to me; it's about my daddy's family. Are you going to be at lunch in a little while?"

"Yeah," he said, looking slightly confused.

"Okay, I'll talk to you and tell you about it then. Bye!" I said, rushing back through the door, joining Scott out in the gym once more. He walked me to the Professor's office and I followed in nervous anticipation.

Had he found them? Where were they from? What were they like? Would I like them if I met them? Would they like me? What if they were all gone, what if I had allowed myself to be seen as vulnerable to Professor Xavier for no reason at all? Every thought seemed to be bigger than the last, growing with excitement, nervousness and trepidation. I had no idea what he had to tell me and yet my mind was already creating images of me visiting their graves. I wasn't sure why, but I was stuck on the idea that they were dead and I was preparing myself for him to confirm it.

"Are you okay?" Uncle Scott asked me as we stopped outside of the Professor's office door.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Do you want me to go in with you?"

Did he know what we were going to talk about, or was he just concerned for me, I wondered.

I shook my head and smiled at him. "No, I'll be fine. But thank you."

"Okay, go and talk with the Great and Powerful Oz, then," he joked.

I laughed. "Alright. I'll see you at lunch when I'm done," I told him, turning towards the door as he began to walk away.

"Hey Delia?" he called.

I turned back to look at him down the hall. "Yeah?"

"I don't know if I told you, but I'm glad you came to stay here."

There was something painfully honest about how he had spoken. What he said wasn't that big or fantastic, I knew he was glad that I had come there, even if he hadn't told me. But it wasn't the words, it was how he said them. It reminded me of how my father would sound when he came in from a match late at night. He would come into my bedroom to wake me so that he could tell me that he loved me and it felt as if he were hiding something deeper under his words. I never knew what he was hiding, but I felt that Scott was burying the same message under his statement.

I nodded my head and tried to fill my own voice with meaning and secrecy, but I didn't know how. "I am too." Okay, so big setup for something simple, but when you go day to day worrying about if you'll lose the place you live in, you feel grateful when you can stop worrying.

He looked as though he wanted to say more, but didn't know how, and so he didn't. He just nodded his head and then turned back down the hall to go back to classes.

I took in a deep breath and then let it out before knocking on the door in front of me. The Professor called me in and I entered his office, my nerves on edge. He told me to take a seat and I did. The man must have thought I was crazy, it was my second visit to his office in a week, both of which times I wore pajamas.

"How are you feeling? Jean mentioned that you were sick."

"Yeah, it's just a cold, I'm doing pretty well," I answered politely.

"Good," he said with a smile. "As I'm sure you know, that is not why I asked you in here. I have found the information you were wanting regarding your father's family."

I swallowed loudly in a nervous attempt to calm myself. "What did you find out?"

"Your grandparents, Joseph and Eliza are…" he paused, looking through a small notebook on his desk. It was probably only three seconds, but it felt like three hours. I did all I could to stop myself from reaching across his desk, shaking him and saying 'What? They're what?' "Living in Brooklyn."

My heart seemed to have stopped. "They're alive?"

"Yes, and well, or so they said." He smiled.

"You spoke to them?"

"Yes, I spoke to them on the phone just a few moments ago."

"Did you tell them why you were calling?"

"Yes."

"What did they say?"

"They said that they would like to meet you." My mind began racing twice as fast as it had been, running on nerves. They wanted to meet me; they actually cared to get to know me. I had a family. "Delia, it is not my position to tell you what to do, but I'm not entirely convinced that this is as easy as it sounds."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that there was a reason for why your father and his family never spoke to one another. Perhaps it would be best if you didn't meet them."

"Sir, I have to, I have to at least meet them. If I can see why my father left, then I will, too. If it doesn't work out then I'm back to being where I was. But I have to try."

"Very well then," he said with another sigh. "I have their information here that you may have. When I spoke to them, they invited you to come to their house a week from this Sunday, if you decide to go." He took the piece of paper from the notebook he had been looking at and handed it to me. "I suggest taking Scott or Logan along with you, just in case."

I looked at the piece of paper he had given to me and held it carefully. His neat handwriting had written out their name and address along with their phone number and date they had asked me to come to their house. The sight of it made my heart rate speed up. Suddenly it was all too real and overwhelming for me. I had to leave. I needed to think and figure it all out in my head.

"Thank you," I said, finding that I couldn't really move. I needed to say more to him. 'Thank you' wasn't enough, but what was I supposed to say? No one ever teaches you the proper way to thank someone for finding your lost relatives. He must have understood my dilemma because he smiled at me kindly and told me that I was welcome and I could go to lunch.

I left his office and felt the need to talk to Scott and explain the situation to him. I didn't want to hurt him and I was afraid that there was a huge possibility that I might. So I pulled him aside, explained it to him, and told him that I wasn't ungrateful for what he had done for me, but that I needed to know them. He smiled and said that he understood. I'm not sure if he did, but he gave me a hug and a kiss and told me that he was happy for me.

That was before lunch. After lunch, I grabbed Logan and told him the same thing before roping him into going with me. Well…I didn't do too much roping; he wasn't going to let me go to Brooklyn by myself. Then came the hard part; telling Scott that Logan and I were going to be staying over night in another town together. I wasn't so sure how he would take that, so I waited until later that night, after dinner when he was sitting in the den by himself reading the newspaper. I went and sat down beside him, wondering about the most delicate way that I could break it to him. Make it seem like his idea, I thought, perhaps then he won't be so uptight about it.

"What are you reading?" I asked, sitting on my knees, facing towards him.

He peered at me from over the newspaper. "I'm reading about the conference they had in D.C. last week."

"Oh…what about?"

"Mutants."

"Oh."

"You sound disappointed," he said with a small laugh.

"Well it's just that whenever they have one of those, they're always bashing us. It's like if you give two guys a gun, it's not the gun in their hands that makes them dangerous, it's the person who decides what they're going to do with it. Just because we're mutants and have powers doesn't always mean that we're dangerous, it's how we decide to use them that does. It's not fait that we should all be stereotyped for how we were born."

He smiled at me. "That was quite profound Delia, I'm proud of you."

"Thanks," I said, happy that I had started the conversation off well by getting on his good side straight away. "Oh, the Professor thinks that I should have someone go with me next week when I go to Brooklyn."

"And you wanted me to go with you?"

"Well, yeah, but I want to stay the night there and come home the next day. The problem with that is it's on a Sunday and since you have to teach on Monday, you won't have time to get back for classes that next day."

"So what did you have in mind, because I agree with Xavier; I don't think you should go by yourself."

"Well, I was thinking that perhaps Logan could take me since he doesn't work," I said, a sheepish tone in my voice.

"Hm," he said, looking at his newspaper. "That's funny."

"What is?"

"It doesn't say anything in here about Hell freezing over."

I laughed. "Come on Uncle Scott, it's one night. Nothing will happen, I promise."

He folded his newspaper and sat it on the arm of the couch. "You can't promise me that. This is Logan we're talking about."

"Who has been nothing but nice to me ever since we met."

"You've never been alone with him like that before."

"Valentine's Day," I reminded him.

"I still don't like the idea."

"Do you have a better one?"

"Yeah; call and reschedule to another day when I can go with you."

"I can't. This makes sense. Unless you guys are called on a mission, then he doesn't have to be back by a certain time. You can talk to him and…threaten him with his life if you want. I'll give Jean permission to read my mind as soon as I get back to make sure that nothing happened."

He stared at me as he thought. "I don't know."

"What exactly are you afraid might happen while we're gone that hasn't already happened while we've been here?"

"Logan made a pass at my wife the moment I wasn't there and he had her alone. Now I've gotten over that and I can work and fight with him when I have to, but by no means have I forgotten it. If he would try that with someone who was married, I don't know what he'll try with you."

"What do you mean Logan made a pass at Jean?"

"Right before Jean went missing, the jet went down in some woods just outside of the school. I wasn't there so I don't know exactly what happened, but Logan told me that… Look, it doesn't matter what he did with Jean, you're twenty-five, this is your decision, not mine." He picked up his newspaper and opened it once again.

"Why didn't you tell me about this before?" I asked, feeling confused.

He put down the newspaper and let out a sigh. He looked at me and I realized just how much I hated those glasses. It wasn't fair that I didn't get to look in his eyes when he talked. I had only one memory of actually seeing him without his glasses. I was four, he was fourteen and it was before his powers got out of control. Mother had gone away on 'vacation' for the week, he had come to Connecticut for a few days and daddy had taken us out to eat for the day. He talked about the school and I remember not quite understanding what it meant to him. I made him have our photos taken together in one of those photo booths, both of us smiling and showing off our dimples. He kept them; he still has them in his room. A year later, his powers were so bad that he had to start wearing his glasses. I missed being able to look into his eyes.

"Because once I realized that the two of you were going to be friends, I decided to let you make up your own mind about him. You're a grown woman, Delia. You've made harder decisions than who to be friends with and I didn't want to hurt what the two of you have. I know we've not always been close but you seem to be happy here and with him. I'm glad, I wish you would've picked someone else, but otherwise, I'm happy for you." I laughed. "If you really want him to take you, then okay. I want to have a long talk with him first, but I trust you."

"Thank you Uncle Scott."

"You're welcome. Come here," he said, pulling me to him and hugging me. "I love you sweetheart."

"I love you, too."

"Everything's going to get better, just wait and see."