Bleeding Hearts

The Sequel to Weeping Willow

An X3 Fanfiction by Carrie

Chapter Three

Jackie stared up at her ceiling in deep thought, something she'd mastered in her months of self isolation.

"A cure, huh," she muttered to her small, desolate room. "A cure for what? Being different? Great, that's all anyone needs. We're all different, for Christ's sake…." A nostalgic sound echoed through the room: someone was knocking on her door. Too lazy to bother getting up and answering it, she simply said, "Come on in."

"Hey," Willow said as she let herself in. "What're you doing in here?"

"Thinking," Jackie said.

"'Bout the news?" Willow asked.

"Yeah," Jackie replied. "I mean, it's not that I'm thinking about getting the cure, or whatever. Sure, it'd be nice to be able to see normally again, but I really feel like I'm making progress with this whole electricity thing. I don't want to give it up now that I'm starting to gain control. You know?"

"Sure," Willow agreed.

"You'd have to be really cowardly or have a really, really bad mutation to get that. I mean, can you imagine? It's permanent; you'd never be able to grow another flower again. When I think about it, my power could really come in handy. If I eventually master it, I could jump start a car, or someone's heart. You know? Something useful. Ever since the Professor's been giving me lessons, I'm starting to see the positive side of this. The cure, I think, should be getting control of yourself. I think it's lame to try and fix people who're different."

"It'd be like trying to find a way to turn black people white," Willow suggested. "No one would ever go for that. But for some reason, it's okay to do that shit to us." Willow shook her head. "I feel like we just can't get a break, you know? It's all gotten so hard to just have a normal life."

"Willow, we're never gonna have a normal life," Jackie said bluntly. "This is it, kid. This is the hand we were dealt, now we have to do the best we can with what we got. It ain't fair, but what is? You know?"

"Yeah. Fuck it," Willow sighed, throwing her hands in the air with very little enthusiasm. "Anyone who wants to take my abilities away from me can kiss my ass."

"Over my dead body," Jackie agreed with a smirk. "But you know…Rogue's gonna do it."

"Really?" Willow asked, slightly alarmed.

"That's what she said. But I really can't blame her, she can't even touch anyone," Jackie said.

"I guess…" She wasn't completely convinced. "Should we…talk to her about it?" Willow wondered awkwardly.

"Nah," Jackie said, shaking her head. "This is her decision. We can't pressure her one way or another. She'll do what's right for her."

"Yeah," Willow sighed. "You're right."

"Good class today," Jackie said, changing the subject with a genuinely amused grin.

"Hey, thanks," Willow said, feeling better about being a teacher.

"Trent is a little piece of shit," she said referring to the kid that Willow had kicked out of class. "That was so funny, how you chucked his quiz at him. Awesome."

"Well, he can't mess with me anymore. End of story," Willow said firmly. "If he doesn't want to come to class, he doesn't have to. I'll just fail his sorry ass."

"He deserves it," Jackie said.

"Yeah, he does," Willow agreed. "I hate to say it, but it was sort of empowering. I owe Kurt for the encouragement."

"Oh yeah, he left, didn't he?" Jackie remembered.

"Yep," Willow said, clearly not happy about it.

"He'll be back," Jackie assured her.

"I know, it's just tough 'cause he couldn't have left at a worse time, you know? I'm really stressed out and shit's hitting the fan more and more every day and I just sorta…need him," she said with a little shrug.

"No you don't," Jackie said decidedly. "Necessity implies that you can't live without him. And I could be wrong, but I don't think you're dead and/or dying."

"When did you get so goddamn smart?" Willow grumbled.

"When did you get so goddamn stupid?" Jackie countered.

"Shut up," Willow said with a smile. She was so glad to have Jackie back in her life, she could have jumped for joy. "I'm glad you're back, Jack. Life sucks without you."

"What can I say, I'm awesome. I can't help it," Jackie said casually with a shrug. "And I'm also tired, and I have Horticulture homework to do, thanks to you. So get out."

"Fine, you do that homework," Willow said in a false angry voice. "And if you have any questions, come down and ask me, bitch!"

"Get out, whore!" Jackie practically shouted, a smirk all over her face.

"Skank!"

"Asshole!" Willow sputtered for one last comeback but couldn't think of anything else. Jackie grinned smugly. "I win."

"This time," Willow submitted, getting up to leave. "See you tomorrow in class. Be there or be a jerk."

"Oh, I'll be there," Jackie promised. Willow stuck her tongue out at her best friend before leaving the room.


Willow lay in bed, tears shimmering in her eyes. She knew she was being ridiculous. Kurt would be back in a couple weeks, just like he said. But with the news of a cure plastered all over headlines everywhere, she was worried about what would become of him. As long as he kept the image inducer on at all times, he would be alright. She had to have faith in the fact that he would come home safe.

She glanced sideways at her digital clock that was perched on her nightstand. 2:34am. Succumbing to the fact that she wouldn't get a wink of decent sleep that night, she got out of bed and headed down to the kitchen to grab something to eat. When she arrived, she was surprised to see that someone else was already there. A big, blue, furry someone in green stripped pajamas.

"Hey, Hank," she said. The Secretary looked up through a pair of reading glasses.

"We meet again," he said as he slipped a bookmark in between the pages of a particularly think novel and set down a half eaten gallon of chocolate ice cream.

"Midnight snack?" she asked him as she glanced at the carton.

"Ah, yes, well, you caught me," he said with a little shrug. "It just so happens that I'm an emotional eater."

"You're secret's safe with me," Willow said getting a spoon out of the drawer. "'Cause I am too. Gimme some of that." Hank chuckled as he slid the ice cream toward her.

"It's the stress. It's making me fatter every day," Hank commented, patting his stomach.

"It's ok, we'll get fat together," Willow said as she set the Polaroid she'd been carting around with her for the last few hours down on the island counter before taking the cylindrical carton.

"May I?" Hank asked politely, gesturing to the Polaroid snapshot.

"Oh," Willow said. "Sure. Here." Hank took the photo from her and examined it. He recognized the two figures as Willow and Kurt, both laughing and wearing pirate costumes. "Halloween," Willow said. "We had so much fun with the younger ones, trick or treating around the mansion. He's so great with kids, you know…He and I got into a fake swordfight for all of his little admirers. Did you know he can fence? With a rapier in both hands and one in his tail? It's incredible."

"I'd almost forgotten to inquire about our friend's whereabouts," Hank said. "How is he?"

"Fine. He's great," she said simply with a little shrug. "He left some family behind in Germany during the whole Stryker episode, so he's gone back to make sure they know he's alright."

"How kind of him," Hank said as he handed her back the picture.

"Yeah," she said as she smiled fondly at the picture. "He's only been gone for two days, but I'm just worried sick about him."

"I don't blame you," he said, watching her take a huge bite of chocolate ice cream. He grinned. "I feel that you and I have much in common, Willow. Much of the same attitudes toward life and much of the same hardships."

"Think so?" Willow asked, flattered that he would compare her with himself. During the short time that she'd gotten to know Dr. McCoy, she'd come to admire him. He was kind, cultured, and intelligent and had a good sense of humor to boot. "I do have a special place in my heart for furry blue men." This produced a chuckle from Hank.

"I'm glad to hear it," he said. "Unfortunately, others don't feel the same way."

"Anyone who would turn their nose up at you before getting to know you is missing out," Willow said firmly.

"Likewise," he replied. "It's so difficult, isn't it? Not being able to just disappear into a crowd."

"It is," she agreed. "But I've found out that the people who are worth it don't judge."

"That is very true," Dr. McCoy agreed. "Very true indeed."

"This cure isn't the answer, though," Willow said through some ice cream. "People should learn some tolerance before trying to make us into something we're not. This is how I was born," she said, gesturing to her body in general. "Well, my arms, eyes and lips have been green for only a year now, but that's not the point. I've had these powers since I can remember, and my take on it is that they're mine to keep, whether or not I'm persecuted for it."

"My thoughts exactly," Hank said. "I've worked hard for years to get into the position I'm in now. To earn the respect that men far less competent than I have received well before I have. And I've been blue since college," he said with a fond little smile.

"Well, ya done good so far," she said.

"Thank you," he said. "I actually have to try my best to do more good in the morning."

"Leaving so soon?" Willow asked in a disappointed voice.

"Duty calls," he said. "I have a meeting with Kavita Rao, Warren Worthington Jr.'s assistant. As the Secretary of Mutant Affairs, I have to make sure that they are treating the young boy properly."

"He's the source of the cure, right?" Willow asked.

"More like the inspiration," McCoy replied. "I'll learn more tomorrow."

"Keep us updated," Willow said.

"Oh, I'm sure I'll be back," Hank said with a smile. "I never can stay away from this place for too long."

"Well, I might as well try to sleep again. My class starts at eleven, but I always find myself scrambling to get everything together.

"Before you go," McCoy said awkwardly. "I have an unusual request."

"Shoot."

"May I have a small skin sample from your arms? I'm interested to know what causes the pigment," he said.

"Sure, whenever," she said. "As long as it doesn't involve cutting me open."

"Nothing of the sort, rest assured," Hank told her. "Perhaps when I return from my errands."

"Alright, well, I hope everything goes according to plan tomorrow," she said.

"As do I," he agreed. "As William Shakespeare once said: 'To climb steep hills requires slow pace at first.' We'll see how much I actually get accomplished…" "Good quote," Willow said with a smile.

"Indeed. Pleasant dreams."

"Good night," Willow said with a smile. She picked up the Polaroid and headed back up to her room.


Hank had left the mansion before Willow got out of bed in the morning on his long flight to San Francisco. She meant to say goodbye, but she thought that she'd hold him to his word that he'd be back.

With one final glance at the clock in her room to make sure she was on time, Willow picked up her text book and exited her room. She inserted the key into the lock, but in mid twist, she suddenly felt as if her mind were being blasted out her ears.

"Gah!" she cried in agony, falling to her knees. She clutched the sides of her head as she sunk further into fetal position. A blow to the head with a baseball bat would be a pleasant release from the pain that was coursing through Willow's skull. She watched as the hall began to fill with the mansion's residents, all of them in utter anguish. It lasted for all of around ten seconds, but it felt like it would go on forever.

When at last the pain subsided, Willow was out of breath and sweating. She felt something drip out of her nose and upon investigation, she discovered that it was blood. She wiped her nose on the back of her hand and looked at the results; there was no doubt about it, she had a nosebleed. Willow had been chucked around the Danger Room for months and in all the times of getting blasted, crushed and hit in the face with rubble, she'd never once sustained a nosebleed. Ever. Willow knew of only one person who could mentally affect everyone at the same time to the point of nausea and nosebleeds, and that was the Professor. Something was terribly wrong.

"What's going on?" one of the younger students asked Willow.

"I dunno," she said getting shakily to her feet. 20 sets of eyes were all fixed on her, looking for answers. "Everyone get back in your rooms," she said awkwardly, never having to administer this much authority before. Surprisingly, most of them did as they were told.

"What happened?" the stragglers asked.

"I don't know yet," she repeated. "I'm gonna go talk to the Professor now, so I need you to get back to your rooms just in case something's up. Okay?" The last of the kids made their way back to their rooms.

Once the hall was empty, Willow snatched her keys that were still dangling from the doorknob and raced down the hall towards the grand staircase. She met Storm on the landing, coming down from the fourth floor.

"What the hell happened?" Willow asked, baffled.

"I don't know yet. Where's Logan?" she asked.

"I haven't seen him," Willow answered as the two of them raced down to ground level. They ran into Logan at the bottom and the three of them hurried to the Professor's office. Logan practically threw open the door.

"Professor?" Ororo called.

"You okay?" Logan growled. Willow was shocked to see Professor Xavier panting and pale as a ghost, sitting behind his desk.

"You need to get to Alkali Lake," he barked at them. "Now."

"Me too?" Willow wondered as Storm and Wolverine headed in the general direction of the Blackbird.

"No, Willow, you stay here. I need someone to help with the students," he said, looking entirely too shaken up for Willow's own personal comfort.

"Professor, what's going on?" she asked.

"I can't tell yet," he said. "But something is not right."


Jackie groaned as she hugged the toilet, feeling as if she were going to vomit again. The pain that had torn through her skull was unbelievable. Every time she accidentally thought back on it, she felt nauseous again.

"Jackie?" she heard someone call from outside her room.

"Come in at your own risk…," Jackie hiccupped. Willow poked her head into the room.

"Are you alright in here?" Willow asked in an urgent voice.

"I think I just threw up my spleen," Jackie muttered into the toilet bowl. "What was that a minute ago?"

"Something's wrong with the Professor," Willow said. "We don't know what yet."

"A grand time to be vague, thanks," Jackie said with a sickly burp. "Jesus, I feel like I'm gonna die. What'd he do to everyone?"

"When I know, I'll tell you," Willow said. "I gotta check on everyone else to make sure they're okay. Are you gonna be alright?"

"Yeah, my toilet and I are just having a little bonding time, here," Jackie said wryly. "Don't worry about me."

"You sure?"

"Get outta here and check on the kids, you idiot," Jackie growled. Willow left Jackie alone and went from room to room, checking to see that everyone was alright. Most of them just had residual headaches but the common symptoms among those more affected were vomiting and nosebleeds.

"Do we have any Tylenol or Asprin?" asked one of the younger students.

"Probably," Willow said. "Anyone who wants headache medicine, come downstairs to the kitchen with me," she announced to the entire second floor, whose residents had since come out of their rooms. "Can someone go upstairs and tell them we're going downstairs?" An older girl of about fourteen volunteered. In all, Willow had a caravan of around 20 students accompany her to the ground floor. Once in the kitchen, Willow pulled down a large bottle of Ibuprofen and read the directions.

"Okay, everyone who's twelve and over, raise your hand," she said. The hands of more than half of the group went up. "Okay, everyone who just raised their hands, take two. Everyone else younger than twelve gets just one. Let's not make today any worse by O.D.ing via Ibuprofen." She popped the lid off and sent the bottle around to everyone present.

"Is that blood?" Siryn asked, looking from Willow's hand to her nose.

"Oh," Willow muttered. In all the commotion, she'd nearly forgotten to take care of herself. She inched past the crowd of students to the sink where she washed off her hands and nose until the blood had completely disappeared. She sighed as she dried herself off with a paper towel. I could really use you right now, Kurt, she thought desperately as she listened to the muttering, crying and painful remarks of the kids around her. After everyone got their dose of headache relief, they all got in line for water.

"Don't cry, guys, everything's gonna be okay," Willow said, getting down on one knee for her favorite group of little 10 year olds.

"Where's Mr. Summers?" asked Susan, the little red head. Willow opened her mouth to say something, but she didn't have an answer. Now that she thought about it, she hadn't seen Scott for a couple days. Due to the fact that Scott usually spent his days alone in his room, it wasn't unusual for people to lose track of him. But this was different. A horrible feeling settled in the bottom of Willow's gut; this little girl was a developing telepath.

"He's, uh…," Willow began, "He's out on a trip, but he'll be back soon." She knew that Susan didn't believe a word of it, but it was mostly for the other three. "So don't worry." Susan's tears didn't stop. "Hey, do you guys wanna watch a movie?"

"I dunno," Lillian said, looking up at Willow through her coke-bottle glasses.

"It might take your mind off things," Willow said with a little smile.

"Okay," they agreed.

"If anyone wants to stick around, we're gonna watch a movie in the living room," Willow announced. Around half the kids that had come down for a remedy for their headache stayed to watch Disney's Aladdin. Usually the film took Willow back to her childhood, but today it was like a torture. There was definitely something wrong and all Willow could do was sit around and wait.