I nodded to my roommate and best friend as she walked by holding her X-Men suit. "Got called in, rain check on the festival?" she made a wincing face as she did so.

"Don't worry about it," I sighed. Her shoulder length pink hair was a wild mess, tucked haphazardly behind her pointed ears. Her wings fluttered, as if a shiver ran through her.

"Marigold," she looked at me, pinning me with her black and pink eyes. "You know.."

But her X-Men issued phone went off and it ended any further conversation. She hustled down the hallway to bathroom and I poured myself a cup of tea.

Being the best friend of a super hero was not all it cracked up to be. People always assumed it was amazing but the truth was, it was one of the hardest things to do. Ever since she moved here from Wales when she was 5 we had been best friends. Our lives mimicked one another for many years. But unlike Megan, I wasn't a mutant. So that was our first rift. The second was her leaving to go to a special school for mutants. But when she graduated she came back and moved in with me.

The truth was this, it's the most one sided relationship you'll ever be in. Everything and I mean everything, revolves around them, even when it doesn't. And you put so much into it, because you want to support them. And after you have a pity party for yourself because they missed another major event in your life, or heck at this point, even something small like a festival. You end up feeling guilty for being upset with them, because they were out saving the world. It's a crazy viscous cycle that I have never managed to get out of. I lowered my expectations of her damn well to the point that I have none anymore. So now, instead of moping around when plans between us were canceled, I did what I wanted. I wasn't going to be a bump on a log.

"Bye!" Megan called and I heard the gentle rush of air that meant she had teleported away. I sighed and tried not to worry. I grabbed my tea and headed into my room to get ready for the festival. It was the flower festival. The smells, the food, everything about it was almost magical. I did my makeup, keeping it natural and clean. Minus the red lips. I loved wearing red lipstick, it brought everything together somehow. I had made a flower wreath from babies breath and small pink roses. I carefully placed it in my long blonde hair, looping some of the strands around it to keep it in place. I wore an off the shoulder, strapless long flora dress. It was white with pink and red roses all over it and a slit that came up to my thigh. I was pretty sure it was meant to be over a bathing suit or something, but I got it at a thrift store for $2 and wasn't about to complain.

That was another thing about having a bestie who was a superhero mutant. And lived with you. She couldn't hold down a job for long, which meant she really couldn't pay for much. And it all fell onto my shoulders. I was a data entry clerk and while it was so boring and tedious that it sucked the life from me, it paid our bills. It wasn't that I didn't want to do more, but how could I? Megan literally couldn't work, and I needed to be full time to support us. That was the bottom line. So $2 thrift store dresses were my best option.

My phone pinged and I looked down to see Megan had sent me a pic of her face. She was squishing her chin down onto her neck, giving herself a double chin. A message underneath it said, Have so much fun at the festival! I'm sorry again.

I sent her one of me with my little wreath and a message.

Nothing to be sorry about. Go save the world, I'll get the rose tea. Love you, stay safe.

She sent me back the heart eye emoji and that was the end of our texts for now. I walked the five blocks to the festival, my heart lifting at the sights and sounds as I approached. I had saved for weeks to have enough to splurge here and I was going hog. Tea, rose oil, natural soaps and chap sticks. A book on pressing flowers, another on using plants to create dyes and pigments. I was walking to another booth, all my purchases snugged safely in the large boho bag on my arm and the chilled Hibiscus tea in my other hand when someone shouted my name. I turned to look but didn't see any one I recognized. I had just turned back around when I bumped into a broad chest.

"Oh my gosh, excuse me," I smiled as I looked up and stepped around the person I bumped into. He was covered in blue fur.

"No harm done my dear," he smiled down at me. "I am looking for Marigold Bellamy?"

"That's me," I was a bit confused and I was sure it showed on my face. "Can I help you with something?"

"My name is Doctor Hank McCoy. The other two men with me are Remy LeBeau, and Scott Summers."

"I'm sorry," I shook my head. "What's going on?"

"Charles Xavier sent us to collect you, Megan has been injured."

The moment those words left his mouth the world tipped slightly, my tea dropping from my hand. He reached out to catch me.

"Steady," he smiled calmly at me.

"What happened? Is she alright?"

"She is currently resting but her injuries are grave. Will you come?"

"Of course!" I nodded and he offered me his arm. It was very kind so I took it. I felt eyes on me and turned to see two other men had fallen in behind us. People were watching us, some shrinking back in fear or disgust. A man lifted his hand like he was going to throw his drink at Dr. McCoy. I turned slightly, so if he did throw it, it would have to hit a large portion of me as well. The man looked daggers at me and I gave it right back. He lowered his hand back down.

"That was very kind of you," Dr. McCoy spoke as we kept walking.

"Think nothing of it," I nodded. They walked us out of the festival and over a few blocks to where some buildings had been recently demolished. I didn't understand at first but then a jet suddenly appeared.

"Heavens to Betsy!" I exclaimed.

"Where you grow up cher?" the man with the reddish brown hair and black eyes with red pupils asked with a smile.

"Greensboro, Georgia."

"Gambit knew you were a belle," he took my hand in his and brought it to his lips in a gentle kiss.

"Thank you...Gambit, was it?"

"Remy LeBeau, but some they call me Gambit."
"What would you prefer?" I asked, using this conversation to keep my mind occupied. My stomach was in knots and my heart was hammering in my chest. I was so worried about Megan I felt like I might burst into tears at any moment.

"You may call me whatever you like cher."

"I'm Marigold Bellamy."
"Scott Summers," a man with a visor walked up and held his hand out. I took it gently and he pumped it a few times before letting go and walking up the stairs into the jet.

"They do not know how to treat a lady," Remy shook his head and held his hand out for me, helping me onto the stairs. It was very kind of him. "Watch your head ma petite fleur."

"Little flower?" I asked as I did in fact watch my head.

"You name is a flower, no?"

"Yes it is."

"Then all is right."
I guessed so. I wasn't in the mood to argue and it wasn't like it was anything unkind. I took a seat and Remy helped me buckle in. I took a deep, steadying breath.

We landed in no time on the grounds of a large, beautiful mansion. The basketball court actually opened up and the plane slowly descended inside of it. When we landed, Hank escorted me through sterile, silver looking hallways. Bright florescent lights made them seem harsher, more clinical and lifeless.

I nodded and rung my hands nervously. What was her condition? Was she going to be alright? Did they have the proper equipment here to help her? My mind was buzzing with so many thoughts, some to scary for me to even acknowledge. I followed after Dr. McCoy, my wedge sandals making small thuds in the barren hallway. A door opened with a nearly silent hiss and I saw her. She was laying in a bed, IV's and tubes running everywhere. I felt the tears began to flow out of my eyes, blurring my vision as I raced over to her.

"Megs," it was all I was able to get out. Her face swollen terribly, to the point that it was difficult to make out some of her features. There was bruising, deep purples and blues. She had small cuts all over her already battered face and neck. "What happened?" I asked as I reached down and took her hand nearest to mine gently. She felt cool.

"She was attacked by another mutant who goes by the moniker Toad."

Toad? I shook my head, carefully using my hand that wasn't holding hers to gently brush a piece of her pink hair away from her face.

"What's her condition?" I asked, looking to Hank. He was blurry, as the tears refused to stop. But I was keeping the sobs at bay. It was hard work though.

"Multiple contusions to her face and upper torso. A Basilar fracture.."

"A Basilar fracture?" I blinked a few times, stunned. It would explain the raccoon bruising under her eyes and the blood around her nostrils. "Do you have her on anticoagulants?"

"Yes," Dr. McCoy replied, sounding slightly confused.

"Good, how far are we from the nearest hospital with neurosurgical capabilities?"

Dr. McCoy cleared his throat and I glanced back over to him.

"It was not meant as a dig at your skill as a doctor. I was asking simply because if Megan does experience neurological decline, we will need to move quick."

"I did not realize you had medical knowledge," Dr. McCoy stated.

"Some. My grandfather is a neurologist. Grandma is a cardiologist. Beyond the Basilar fracture, what are her other injuries? Anything vascular or cervical spine complications?"

"No, she sustained most of her trauma in the upper torso and cranial areas. It's very localized."

I nodded. Whomever did this was seemed to be terribly angry at her.

"She is still in there," an older bald man spoke and I looked over to him. He was in a wheelchair and had the kindest eyes I had ever looked into. "I can feel her, she knows you're here."

I smiled down at Megan. She was strong, she'd make it through this. I'd make sure of it.

I felt a hand on my back and bolted up, I had no idea when I had fallen asleep.

"Easy ma petite fleur," I recognized the cajun accent immediately. "Remy just coming to check in on ya."

"What time is it?"

"Late," he smiled and set a soft blanket over my shoulders. And then we walked off. I adjusted myself and gripped Megan's hand again.

"You eat anything darlin?" I looked up and I caught my breath. The man talking to me had a concerned look on his handsome face, dark brows drawn down over his hazel eyes. His jaw was covered in dark hair. My stomach was doing flip flops, my heart hammering in my chest. I realized I was staring.

"Candied rose petals," I cleared my throat, embarrassed. I reached up to take the flowers out of my hair. I tucked a little sprig of babies breath behind Megan's ear and set the rest of them on the table.

"Rose petals?" he came closer, resting his large hands on the bed railing and looking down at Megan.

"Damn," he shook his head and looked away. There was a little vein sticking out in his forehead. I dug around in my bag and came up with the mason jar that had them inside. I opened it and held it out to him. He raised an eyebrow and then took the jar, shaking one into his hand before handing it back to me. I sealed it and put back away. I watched as he inspected it. He was incredibly handsome, in a rugged manly sort of way. Hairy muscular forearms, large veiny hands, flannel stretched tight across his upper torso. I was ogling him and it was so inappropriate. What was wrong with me?

He popped it into his mouth and chewed, his face giving away his dislike immediately.

"You eat this?" he looked over at me. I smiled at him before looking back down to Megan.

"It's one of Megan's favorites. And the vendor only sells them at the flower festival once a year."
"Explains the crown you were wearing," he jested. I nodded.

"It's tradition," I felt the tears coming again. "We go every year." They spilled over in two, lazy little rivers. "It's so selfish, but I wish just this once, she would have said no to the X-Men and come with me."
"That's because somethin' bad happened," he nodded, opening and then clenching his hands tight. "Can't take it back, but we wish we could."

I nodded, using my free hand to wipe away the tears on my face.

"How long you and her been friends?" he asked, pulling up a chair on the other side of her.

"Since we were little girls," I looked over to him. "Her parents were flaky at best and she spent a lot of time with me and my grandparents."

"She talks about ya," he smiled gently and my heart did that heavy beating again.

"Does she?" I sniffled, reaching over to grab the glass of tea Dr. McCoy had brought me hours ago. It was cold but it was still tasty.

"You just bought her a dress."

I rolled my eyes to look at him as I drank and then set the cup down.

"She told you that?" I shook my head. Why? It was another $2 dress, I found it when I found my own.

"Like I said, she talks about ya all the time."

"I'm pretty boring compared to her," I looked back at Megan and let out a shaky breath.

"Miss Bellamy?" I turned to see a redheaded woman with the brightest blue eyes I had ever seen.

"Yes?"

"I'm Roslyn Creed," she smiled down at me. "Hank asked if I would come check on you."
"Thank you, that's very kind."

"Do you need anything?"

"No," I shook my head but then the man on the other side of the bed spoke up.

"All she's eaten since this morning were rose petals."
Roslyn looked at me with puzzlement.

"Candied rose petals," I told her. "I'm really not hungry."
"You should eat something, even if it's lite." She was speaking to me but looking at the other man. "Can I ask you something Miss Bellamy?"

"Marigold please," I smiled. "And sure."

"Please don't take this the wrong the way," she began. "But we noticed you were sending and receiving text messages..."

I looked from the man to the woman.

"I was texting my boss," I told them the truth. "I needed to let him know I wasn't coming in for a few days, family emergency."
She nodded and I sighed.

"I don't have a lock on it," I picked up my cell and handed it to her. "You can look for yourself."

I was far to tired and worried to be mad, but I was aggravated. I felt like I was being interrogated.

"Please don't be upset," she took my phone.

"I am far to exhausted to be angry," I retorted. "What do you suspect me of?"

"Nothing," the man said but I didn't believe him.

"Right," I knew at once what this was about. I didn't think I would face it here, of all places. But here it was. I was a human. They were mutants. Because I was close with one of them, I must be some kind of freak or double agent or something.

"No one suspects you of anything Marigold," the man in the wheelchair was back.

"It really feels like you think I'm something I'm not."

"Megan's call to come to our aide was faked," he looked at me and I knew he read the confusion on my face. I was a broadcaster, he didn't need telepathy to read me.

"I heard her special phone go off," I told him.

"Someone tampered with it."
"And you think it was me?"

He looked at me and I clenched my jaw.

"Interrogate me then," I hissed. "I would never hurt anyone, let alone Megan."

He stared at me for a moment before coming around the bed to be right next to me. I turned, not wanting to let go of Megan's hand but doing it anyway. I sat up straight and looked at him.

"With your permission, I would like to do just that," the bald man smiled kindly at me. "All I will need you to do it take my hand."

"Your hand?"

"I am a telepath Miss Bellamy."

"Oh," It was all I could make out. A telepath. Well that was wonderful! He could look into my head and see that I would never hurt Megan. Never betray her.

"This will not hurt," he smiled kindly as he leaned forward and gently took my hands in his. I didn't feel anything. Occasionally I would remember something but otherwise I couldn't tell he was in there.

"You've been attacked before by the friends of humanity," he looked at me. I kept my eyes on his.

"Yes, a few times now. Megan doesn't have a secret identity or anything, everyone knows she's Pixie. It's caused some hubbub around town occasionally."

"Hubbub?" the handsome man sounded like he was trying to hold in a laugh.

"Yes, people getting together and protesting, egging our apartment, putting fliers up and scripture. Things like that."

"They've done more than that," Charles raised an eyebrow at me. It was strange how I knew his name all of a sudden. It was like he had whispered it into my mind.

"It's nothing I can't handle. Have you seen everything you needed to? Am I no longer a suspect?"

"You were never suspect, not in the traditional sense. We have many enemies my dear, some of them possess mutant abilities like mine. I needed to make sure your mind hadn't been tampered with."

As soon as he let go of my hands I turned and took Megan's again. It was cool feeling once more.

"You should get some rest, we will let you know if anything changes in her condition," he looked at me but I shook my head no.

"Thank you, but I'm fine. I don't want her to wake up alone."

"It could be awhile before she awakens," he warned.

"However long it takes," I mused.