I just wanted you to know

That I'll never care

How far you push me away

Because when I told you

That I would stay

I meant it

-Courtney Peppernell

Crash!

Clarice woke up instantly, nearly falling off the couch as she scrambled upright. She looked in the direction of the sound and the remains of the bedside table laying shattered on the floor, finally registering that there was a ringing phone amidst the wreckage.

John groaned, hands clamped tightly over his ears.

Clarice winced sympathetically, knowing just how painful a normal hangover was…but with enhanced senses? She stood up and walked over to the destroyed furniture, bending down to pick up the phone. Not wanting the ringing to continue, she answered the call without looking at the Caller ID and left the room, "Hello?"

She nearly got halfway down the hall before someone responded.

"Who is this? Where's John?"

Clarice barely bit back the sarcastic remark, sensing the unease in this person's voice. "This is Clarice. John is…" she glanced over her shoulder at the closed door where John was no doubt still trying to block out all the noise. Had he slept at all? "…indisposed."

"Is he alright?"

She hesitated, not knowing who was on the other side or why they were calling John. Clarice felt uncomfortable with sharing John's current state with anyone. This person may be worried about him, but they probably thought he was hurt…not that he was hungover. Even if they were a friend…. "Who is this?"

His response was immediate, "James Proudstar…his brother."

The name Marcos had mentioned the night before came rushing back. This must've been who'd tried to call him. She wondered what had been so important… "Well…" She worried her lip, not entirely sure how to broach the hell that had been the last week…she sighed, "a lot's happened. When was the last time you talked to him?"

James' concern was palpable, "About a month ago…why?"

She stepped outside, making sure there was no one around to overhear. Everyone had silently agreed that what had transpired in the warehouse was best kept between those who'd been there, the last thing the Mutant Underground needed to know was how one of their leaders nearly killed another…but this was John's family. James deserved to know what happened to his brother… "Our group ran into telepaths from the Hellfire Club and John had information they wanted. Obviously, he refused and they forced him to…" she trailed off, raising a hand to the healing bruises around her neck, "…hurt someone."

James muttered a curse, "When was this?"

"Little over a week ago."

"How is he?"

She sighed again, "Physically he's fine…but he's been quieter than usual."

The background noise faded on the other end as he too found a private place before he spoke once more, "They didn't just force him to hurt someone, did they?"

Clarice swallowed as the feeling of his hand wrapping around her throat and the horror in his eyes as they tore into his head flashed through her mind. She went to shake her head, but stopped herself and responded, "No."

Silence. Then…

"He hurt you."

The words weren't put into a question, but a statement of fact so Clarice didn't bother refuting him. She should've been angrier…more defensive of what had taken place, but she was tired of tip-toeing around other's questioning looks. Clarice offhandedly wondered if being perceptive was a Proudstar trait…

"Look, I know this may be asking a lot, especially after everything, but…" he sighed, "I know my big brother puts on a good face for the others, being the leader and all…but he needs someone by him in times like now. John isn't as indestructible as he seems…"

Tell me about it. "I had to drag him from a bar last night so…I've figured that bit out." She rolled her right shoulder, the whole side of her body still stiff after he'd practically slammed her into the building…

"Ah…"

"You sound like this isn't the first time."

James cleared his throat, "John sort of…implodes when he's overwhelmed."

Clarice hummed in agreement.

"I'll call back tomorrow…Just stay with him, alright?"

She almost scoffed at him thinking she wouldn't, but stopped herself. "I will."

"Thank you, Clarice."

The call disconnected and Clarice leaned back against the siding, looking out at the surrounding forest and breathing in the scent of pine. She spun the phone around in her hands and watched as a couple of the kids ran by with Zingo, smiling as Norah came over.

"Hi, Clarice!"

She offered a small smile, "Hey Norah."

The girl's gaze landed on the phone, "Is that yours?"

"Uh, no. It's John's actually."

The name had Norah looking around as if finally realizing the man's absence. She frowned, looking back up at Clarice, "Where's John?"

"Sleeping…he isn't feeling well."

Her brows furrowed, "Is he sick?"

She pursed her lips, "Just a bad headache."

Zingo butted her nose against the girl's hand and whined, clearly eager to play. Norah looked down at him with a thoughtful, almost sad expression that looked out of place on her young face, "His powers hurt him…don't they?"

Clarice blinked, shocked by the question and unsure of how to respond.

John's enhanced senses, tracking skills, and near invulnerability had saved everyone's asses on multiple occasions (her own included), but she'd often wondered the same thing. In just the last twenty-four hours, though, she'd learned the answer to that question. Whether it was mind-splitting headaches from over stimulation or directing his anger inward to protect others from his strength…his abilities caused him pain.

"Yeah…they do."

"You should make him some of Mama D's sweet tea. It always worked for me."

The reminder hit her like a sledgehammer, and she managed a smile. She wondered, for probably the millionth time, of what memories Sonya had taken from the girl's mind as well as the ones she'd put back. Norah was at peace with their losses now…like she hadn't seen them gunned down by Sentinel Services… "She never told me the recipe for it."

Norah's grinned, "She told me."

…

After applying all the necessary cover-up, she took some money from the cache and knocked on the partially opened down. "Want to go on a grocery run?"

Lauren looked up from her book, "Just the two of us?"

"Yeah. You down?"

"Uh…sure. I'll get my shoes on."

Clarice was glad she didn't ask any questions as she grabbed the keys for one of their under-the-radar cars and left without telling the Struckers or Marcos. She wasn't really in the mood to answer their questions anyway…

Lauren kept her silence until they pulled into the grocery parking lot, her brown eyes scrutinizing Clarice's taut expression. She snagged the woman's sleeve, not perturbed by the sharp look shot she got in return, "What's going on Clarice?"

Clarice pulled away and turned off the ignition. "Nothing."

"Is it about John?"

Clarice sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, "Lauren…"

"Was it bad last night?"

"No, it's just…" she got out of the car and waited until Lauren shut her own door before locking it and slipping the keys into her jacket pocket, "My foster mom used to make this…amazing sweet tea. Said it could cure most anything. Thought I'd try it."

"Can it cure a hangover?"

Clarice smiled slyly, "Worked for me."

Lauren laughed, "Then let's go!"

Pulling out the list of ingredients, they tossed each of them into the cart. Clarice kept an eye out to see if anyone noticed anything suspicious, but no one paid her a passing glance under they reached the checkout and a familiar tatted arm rested on the edge of the conveyor belt. She turned, "Miles?"

He smiled at her, holding out a hand, "Good to see you again…"

"Clarice…" she took the proffered hand, "and this is Lauren."

He inclined his head, "How's your boyfriend doing?"

Clarice blushed and she heard Lauren snort, "He's good…just hungover."

He laughed, "I'd be surprised if he wasn't."

"Miss?" The cashier, a girl Lauren's age, eyed Miles nervously.

"I'll let you go then."

Clarice watched him go as she paid for their groceries, wondering if the cashier was skittish around him because she knew he was a mutant or if it was his intimidating stature and inked skin…

"Who was that?" Lauren asked as soon as they got to the car.

"Bartender…got us out before anyone realized we were mutants."

The girl hummed, putting the groceries by her feet and buckling up. "So…"

Clarice sighed, "Lauren…"

"John's your boyfriend now?"

She groaned, glancing in the mirrors and making sure they weren't followed out. Clarice vehemently tried to push down the blush burning her face, refusing to look over at Lauren, "It made sense at the time."

Lauren raised her hands with a teasing smile, "No need to get defensive."

Clarice huffed out a breath, returning her eyes to the road. She couldn't begrudge the girl her teasing jabs, noting the smile she wore was one she hadn't seen a lot of in the last few months... "I'm not so much being defensive as..."

"You don't want him to hear."

Her face burned. She didn't know why she was so embarrassed by the thought of him hearing after they'd kind of professed their love for each other. Did that mean they were in a relationship now? Or did the Triplets' damage that possibility?

"Alright..." Her tone had softened, "I won't say anything."

Clarice parked the car with a relieved sighed, "Thanks."

Lauren offered another small smile before leaving the car.

Clarice followed Lauren inside, stopping in the kitchen and depositing both the keys and groceries on the counter before portalling back to her room to remove the annoyances that were the make-up and irritating contacts. Pulling her hair back into a messy bun, she returned to the kitchen and got to work.

Fifteen minutes and a couple of muttered curses later, she had poured herself two glasses and put the pitcher in the refrigerator that was probably almost as old as her. She took them up to his room the long way, mindful of any noise she made the closer she got to his door.

She was only slightly surprised when John cracked open the door, noting the dark shadows under bloodshot eyes and sickly pallor of his skin. Figuring it was best not to mention his appearance, Clarice held up the glasses, keeping her voice soft, "Can I come in?"

In response, he opened the door wider and stepped to the side.

She set the glasses on the dresser and shrugged off her jacket, folding it over the back of the chair. Clarice trying to make as little unnecessary noises as possible, which was made all the more difficult the moment she'd realized he'd taken his shirt off at some point, nearly hitting her head on the corner of the dresser after bending over to take off her boots. How she hadn't noticed until that point was a mystery to her…

He lowered himself back onto the bed, his body bowed forward as he rubbed his temples. Every line of his back and shoulders were rigid, like a coil drawn tighter and tighter with each breath…

She picked up the glasses and sat down next to him, close enough to feel the heat of all that bare skin and see him tense further…Clarice tried to ignore the near pained look on his face at her proximity, reminding her of the moment he walked through her portal with empty eyes. She shook herself from that distracting train of thought, holding up one of the glasses instead, "Want some tea?"

Without looking at her, he took it.

She smiled as he drank the whole glass in one go. "You feeling any better?"

"Getting there."

Clarice hummed.

He straightened, running a hand through his hair.

She tore her eyes away from the muscles that flexed underneath his tanned skin at the action. Clarice didn't miss his ghost of a smile, no doubt noting her…wandering gaze, and heat bloomed in her cheeks.

He returned the empty glass, "Thanks for the tea."

She sensed the dismissal in his tone, "John…"

"Clarice…" dark eyes bore into hers, that intensity back at full force, "Just go."

"I'm not leaving."

A muscle in his jaw jumped.

She remembered the night before and how broken his voice was when he asked to stay, like he couldn't bear to be alone anymore. Clarice sympathized more than she would ever admit, so she knew he didn't really want her to go…

Setting the glasses down on the floor, she wrapped an arm around his back and rested her head on his shoulder. She reached down and grasped the hand that had nearly killed her a week ago, threading her fingers through his. "No matter what you say or do, John Proudstar…I will always be here for you. I won't leave you."

A shudder went through him and he leaned into her touch. "I'm sorry."

She pressed her lips to his temple and said nothing more.

One more part left on this angsty-as-hell storyline!