He cocked his head to the side and stopped his work at the electrical box, hearing Dahlia walk up. It was Thanksgiving Day and he had the feeling that they were planning some kind of party judging from the set up he'd see in the "kitchen." Multiple bottles of beer, champagne, and wine had turned up and had been pushed into the corner of the room and most recently an old CD player. He'd seen Dahlia helping out with the alcohol much to his surprise; he didn't peg her as the party type.

"Plannin' somethin'?" He asked as she approached. She took a seat beside him cross legged with a book, her tail curled around her. He tilted his head to look at her when she didn't reply right away.

"Yeah…it's just this thing we do." She smiled and looked away thoughtfully and he turned back to his work. He couldn't help feel like something was wrong lately; she hadn't been her normal self. She'd been spending a good bit of time in her room engulfed in various books, most recently C.S. Lewis's 'Out of the Silent Planet.' Another thing that surprised him about her, the books he'd seen her read. He was starting to get the idea she was a lot smarter than she made herself seem.

He felt like he should ask if she was okay but his own discomfort kept him from it, instead he glanced at the book she was reading, still C.S. Lewis's book.

"It any good?" He nodded at the book.

"Hm?" She looked up from the pages.

"The book," He replied more curtly than he intended too and he cursed the habit he'd formed. He looked at her and searched her face for the usual expression she held when he was harsh towards her but the expression he found was vacant. He inhaled slowly; she was normally so readable he'd forgotten what it'd been like to have to scrutinize someone in order to figure them out.

"It's good," She smiled at him after a moment and looked down again. He couldn't help feel like the smile had been forced, it wasn't her usual smile. No, with her usual smile her eyes crinkled in the corners…the smile she gave now didn't reach her eyes.

His mind immediately jumped to everything he could have possibly done wrong. He focused on his work intently but wasn't really focusing at all, her distance driving him mad. He stopped to break the silence but started working again.

She'd always been the one leading the conversation; it was no surprise to him, talking to people never came naturally to him. He pressed his lips together; the only sound she made was the flip of her page. Why was she even still sitting there if she wasn't going to speak? He felt restless, silent company was better than no company he supposed, but he really just-

"Not much use jus' sittin' there, now are you."

Dahlia looked up at his harsh tone but didn't look at him. He expected her to say something, anything. He hoped she would smile, apologize, whatever the bloody hell she usually did, but he didn't expect that; he should never expect that, not with him. He glanced at her with apprehension, hoping to at least find an expression of hurt, of anything really. But instead she just stood up with her head bowed and walked away.

He hated himself; he bloody hated himself very well. She'd never forgive him now, he thought. He stopped working and stayed crouched in his usual position. He placed his elbows back on his knees and he hung his head. He let the screwdriver fall from his hand and he wondered what the hell was wrong with him. He wanted to run after her and make things better but who was he to do it? What did it even matter? They would never be more than friends, if they were even that.

He steepled his fingers in front of his face and touched them to his nose. They were friends, right? They spent a considerable amount of time together. He cringed at the mouth he had and slammed his hand into the metal box in anger. How stupid!

Dahlia sat herself down in the pile of blankets that made up her bed. She opened her book but found herself re-reading the same passage so many times that she just up and set the book down. She rested her head on her pillow and stared at the items underneath Jinx's bed of chairs. A bottle of perfume, a tube of lipstick and mascara, an eyeliner pencil…She signed and rolled over on her back.

She regretted leaving Toad alone; maybe that really was what he wanted though. He seemed that way often, distance, cold but then there were these times where everything seemed fine, like he enjoyed her company. She found him hard to read, as much as she wanted to pretend everything was okay, she felt exhausted.

Thanksgiving was here and it was her second one away from home. She had thought she would never miss a holiday with her family though she knew in the back of the mind that even if she hadn't turned out to be a freak that was unlikely, it still disappointed her. She came from a large family and she missed them all.

Her three aunts and her uncle, blood related. She wasn't counting the people they'd married. They always came over to their house for the holidays along with their kids and her grandparents. They by no means had ever lived in a large, luxurious apartment, but it was home. It offered warm meals and showers whenever you wanted. Now she pulled food from dumpsters when she could and showered in a homeless shelter not far from where Scott worked, he'd actually been the one to point it to her. She was always jumpy there, the only thing truthfully separating her from the others a thin curtain.

It weighed down on her heavily this time of year, it weighed down on her all the time, the guilt that came from leaving…from hurting those around her. Her poor mother, she'd been hysterical when she tried to get her not to leave. And her father….she didn't even want to think of him. He'd never hurt her, he'd only ever tried to do what was best for her, to help her and this was how she repaid him? Leaving him with no closure, maybe she was dead, he would probably never know.

She thought about her grandparents, her aunts and uncles and cousins. Tears stung her eyes and she inhaled sharply pressing a hand to her chest, the pain engulfing her. She pushed herself up weakly, the tears starting to fall freely. She cupped her hands over her mouth and nose and tried to silence her sobs. She felt alone here, she loved Betsy, Annalee, Leech and Artie and Jinx, Callisto and Ape; they were all great friends, but she mostly felt alone.

Toad wasn't much different from the others either, but she could admit she felt closer to him than the others though she couldn't really place why that was. He wasn't the perfect man of her dreams, but he didn't have to be. He was snarky and sarcastic sometimes- well most of the time actually- but he listened and always seemed to have time for her. She couldn't say the same for the others, she knew Betsy looked after her like a mother but she was always busy.

They were like a family to her, but they weren't family. They knew her, but they didn't 'know' her. Most would never understand the life she came from or how she hurt, but they understood the pain she felt because they all felt pain. She didn't just miss her family, she missed her life but she tried to be strong. Sometimes she came off as too happy and stupid, it was obvious what people thought of her most the time but she didn't know much of how else to act.

Her life had been easy till her 'curse' showed up. She'd been on her way to college, she was a straight-A honors student and she took all the AP classes she could. She'd been popular too, she always strived off people. She had been class president since her sophomore year. She was geared for success but now she could be nothing. She would live as nothing and die as nothing.

The only real thing she hoped for now was that she could make people happy but she wondered at what cost. She wiped her nose on her sleeve and stood up weak kneed. She would pull on the sweats that kept her warmest and a shirt underneath her sweater. She searched for her fingerless gloves but realized with tears that Jinx must have taken it for the day.

Even if she couldn't be there, she hoped if a window was open she might be able to watch from a neighboring building…At least then she could see them and know they were alright.

Scott stood outside of the organic food store sweeping the snow from the sidewalk as six PM swung around when he noticed the familiar head of Dahlia approaching. She kept her head down trying to shield her face from the wind and her arms were crossed tightly in front of her chest.

"Dahlia," He raised his hand with a smile as she approached though when she looked up his smile faded. Her eyes were red, matching her red nose cold from the snow and chapped lips. "Dahlia."

"Scott, hi." She gave him a weak smile and glanced away from him when she spoke. "Happy thanksgiving."

"Yeah, you too." He scratched the back of his head, "You…doin' all right?"

Dahlia willed her eyes not to fill with tears. "Yeah, the cold weather just bites."

"Tell me about it," He nodded his head though he didn't that was it. She looked cold; she didn't even have a jacket in this cold weather. "Hey, give me a moment, okay?"

"Okay," She smiled again weakly and turned her gaze off down the street, a violent shake traveling through her body.

Scott came back with his jacket and held it out to her.

"Here, take it."

She shook her head with her polite smile.

"I really couldn't,"

"Come on, you're colder than I am." He smiled at her, trying to use some of that charm Jean always told him he had.

Dahlia hesitantly reached out and took the jacket, slipping it on over her sweater. It wasn't much but it was enough.

"I'll bring it back eventually,"

"Keep it," He shook his head, "Looks better on you anyway."

"Thank you," Dahlia giggled quietly and sniffed.

A moment of silence passed between them.

"Well, I'll be going…" She started to walk.

"..Wait," He said after a pause and she looked back. "Do you have anywhere to go tonight?" He swallowed hard, Professor X really wouldn't appreciate him taking her home with him if she turned out not to be a mutant.

She looked at him for a long moment before she spoke.

"I do, actually." She said hesitantly and he leaned on his broom slightly, feeling somewhat disappointed.

"Alright then," He smiled briefly, "Well…what about tomorrow?"

She tilted her head, what about tomorrow?

"Breakfast," He stumbled for the right words when she didn't reply. "You know, tomorrow, you and me?"

A light bulb went off in her head and her mouth fell open. 'But, I'm gross.' She thought.

She slapped her hands over her mouth when she realized her mouth had echoed her thoughts.

Scott smiled a bit awkwardly, not sure how to respond to that, there was really no way around it. Her hair was becoming dirty again since she hadn't showered for a few days and her face was streaked with dirt. He just wanted to make sure she would get a decent meal for once instead of digging around in dumpsters.

"You're not," He said carefully and she felt her ear twitch from under the wide headband she wore. She reached hand up to touch her ear, making sure it was still hidden.

"You're a bad liar," A smile pulled at the corner of her lip, remembering when Toad told her the same thing.

Scott's lips pulled back into a shamefaced smile. "Nothing a shower couldn't fix," His mind searched quickly for what to say that might get her to consider him. He hoped the food would be enough.

"Come on, let me treat you. Waffle House down the street from here, nine AM?"

"…Sure," Dahlia tied to keep her shy grin from spreading onto her face but she couldn't. It felt good to know someone still found her attractive despite being a dirty, homeless mess.

Scott grinned, seeing her face light up. "Alright then,"

"Alright," She hesitated to leave, giving him a small wave. "See you,"

"See you," He returned her wave and she turned to leave.

Was that a date? She shook her head, no, he probably just felt sorry for her.

Toad walked the streets aimlessly searching for Dahlia, his hood pulled well over his head trying to keep his appearance hidden. He had gone looking for her in her room but Jinx had told him she'd left hours ago. When he'd asked her where she went she'd been about as much help as a chocolate teapot, only telling him she looked upset.

He cursed himself now with hands buried deep into his pockets. Not only did she probably hate him now she was probably freezing her arse off out here, she'd always used his jacket when she'd gone out. A frown tugged at the corner of his lip. He didn't even know why he was bothering himself looking for her, she shouldn't matter to him at all at this point and he knew she was probably just like everyone else just waiting to get away from grumpy, warty Morty.

He growled in frustration, where could she possible go? The city was huge and the places she could have gone endless. He walked past the organic food store she'd told him was her favorite place to rummage, but the lights to the shop were off and she wasn't anywhere around. It was nearing seven and he felt his heart throb in fear that maybe something had happened to her.

He'd gone to the homeless shelter she took showers at, the library where she got her books, the grocery store they'd bought groceries at and even walked past the house of the old lady that she'd said always smiled at her. His lip pulled back grimly as he realized just how much he listened to her talk, he had liked to believe he let it go in one ear and out the other she talked so much.

He took a shuddering breath from the cold and headed towards the last place he knew to look, the park and streets around it. He hunched his shoulders as he passed a lady. She looked at him with caution and was careful to put extra space between them as she passed. Blimey, she might even be back in the tunnels by now for all he knew. He wasn't even quite sure what he would do once he found her.

Dahlia sat on the edge of an empty apartment balcony across from a narrow one way street, looking down into the open window in front of her. The only thing really visibly was the living room, her grandpa fast asleep in her dad's recliner. She could just barely see into the dining room where her family gathered around for dinner, the two youngest of her cousins chased each other around and dove under the table earning a scolding from her youngest aunt.

She sighed longingly, thankful to be away from the celebration going back on in the tunnels and not have to fake a good time but at the same time pained that she was alone. She glanced down at her bare feet and briefly considered putting her shoes on before she decided she didn't care enough. Beside her laid her sneakers with the shoelaces tied together. She'd hung them around her neck while she climbed the balcony, it was near impossible to scale the wall without using all sets of claws.

"You are not bloody easy to find,"

She near about fell off the balcony at the sound of Toad's British accent, jumping up into a crouch she looked behind her to find him clinging to the wall with nothing but his hands. He released himself and jumped onto the balcony with her.

"Mortimer, hi." She said a bit surprised, she sat on the balcony again and let her legs dangle off. Toad jumped up into the stone railing beside her and crouched beside her. Eventually he took a seat like her, figuring he didn't need to put any more difference between them than what already was.

They sat in silence for a few moments that neither of them knew how to break. Dahlia felt awkward and vulnerable, not that she'd never been vulnerable with him before. She swung her feet back and forth out of nervous habit.

Toad scanned the scene in front of him; multiple people had their windows open tonight but only one family seemed was really there and directly in front of them. He looked from the window to the bleak expression she held on her face and felt content to just sit with her in the silence he wished he had accepted from her early. She ended up speaking though.

"I was going to go to Dartmouth," She started, "I had a full scholarship for engineering."

He stayed silent and watched her, listened to her speak.

"Everyone was so proud of me, you know? So happy, I was going to be the first one to go to college in my family. Mom bought me a whole new wardrobe and everything." She brought her knees up to her chest and Toad noticed with annoyance she was barefooted in the bloody cold again.

"Then, this happened." She held out her hand and watched as claws slowly slipped out of her fingertips. She sheathed them and turned her attention back to the window. Inside the warm apartment what he presumed to be her mother walked into view in the living room; she picked up one of the many picture frames set on a table against the wall and stared at it affectionately. She had the same blond hair and pale skin as Dahlia did. "I must of really let everyone down." She said dejectedly.

"You can't blame yourself love," Toad broke his silence and she looked at him with tired eyes. "It's not your fault."

She turned her gaze back to the window, her dad came limping with a cane into view. Upon a closer look Toad saw he wore an eye patch.

"The cane is new," She commented, taking in her dad's aging appearance struck a chord in her. She knew they wouldn't be young forever. "They'd only been trying to help me, when my mutation showed up, but just…" She shook her head. "They wanted to send me to this…group." She looked at Toad suddenly and he looked back to her quietly.

He waited for her to continue but she just looked back to the window and shook her head, leaving Toad to wrestle with rather or not he should talk.

"It's a curse," Her voice broke and she spoke quietly. "The ears, the claws, the tail…All of it. I just, why? I had everything. I hate it."

His heart suck into his stomach, watching the way her lip quivered and her eyes got all misty. He wanted to fix it, all of it, much like he fixed his machines. But he hardly had an idea how to fix himself, bloody hell a girl.

"Don't be like that love," he rubbed his hands together and looked over the jacket she had. The bloody hell she get that from? He reached over and brushed his thumb against her cheek. "I might like you less if you weren't such a kitten."

A smile crawled onto her face slowly and they looked at each other for a moment before she scooted closer and leaned her head against his shoulder. She let out the deep breath she felt like she'd been holding all week.

He tensed up, hesitantly putting an arm around her when much to his surprise she responded by turned to put her arms around his waist.

He cocked his head a bit, pleasure welling up in his chest and putting a smile on his face, he couldn't believe this. She snuggled her face into his chest and he carefully stroked her hair as if he were afraid she were a dream he might wake up from.

"It's my fault," She started then hesitated to go on.

"What is?"

"The eye patch…" She said sleepily. "The night I left…we'd been arguing, it was before I knew I had claws…but I still shouldn't of done it. He lost his eye because of me, I slapped him. Then my poor mom… After she called the ambulance she caught me trying to climb out the window. When she tried to grab me I fell," She pointed at a spot on the snow covered cement just a window over.

"They probably think I'm dead." She mused, "I really wish I could let them know I was okay."

"Could leave 'em a note," He suggested quietly, resting his chin on her head. To anyone else he would have said to hell with them, but if it meant something to her…He nestled his nose into her hair and took a deep breath. Having her head under his chin…there couldn't have been a better feeling than that…like he was her protector.

"I thought about it," She breathed in deeply, feeling safe with him, comforted. "I might do that one day…"

After a while the clouds started to snow again and Dahlia had drifted off to sleep.

"Love," He patted her arm lightly, feeling her jerk awake. He still couldn't believe she was so close; maybe he wouldn't die a virgin after all.

He wasn't used to people getting so close to him. The feeling comforted him; he knew he wasn't an easy person to get along with. He was rude and awkward at times, not knowing how to respond and she didn't know a cent about him.

"Mortimer?" She asked, turning to press her face into his chest.

"Yes, love?"

"Thank you for being there for me, I feel a lot better. You're a really great friend."

The words stabbed him in the chest like the kiss of death. Friend. Of course. He clenched his teeth. It took everything he had to keep the bitterness out of his reply.

"Of course love," He bit his cheek. Hard. "What're friends for?"

He glared at the apartment building; maybe he would die a virgin after all.

The rest of the night felt like a blur. He thought back to everything that had happened. The party had been going on when they'd gotten back around ten. The music was playing loudly and drinks were passed around carelessly, though the younger mutants weren't anywhere around.

Dahlia had been so excited, she'd tried to get him to dance with her but he'd settled crouched against one of the walls with a beer in his hand and watched her have fun. He'd never been one to get into parties, the crowds made him uncomfortable even with them all being mutants.

He watched humorously as she bumped and grinded against Jinx after a drink too many. His eyes trailed over her body hungrily. Bare-footed again, of course; he was starting to think there was nothing that could keep her from taking her shoes off.

She danced up to him and tried to get him off the wall but he'd just shook his head.

"I stand by my word, you've lost it."

"Come ooonnn," She whined, pulling him to his feet and danced around him singing loudly along with the music. Cor, she was a terrible singer. He'd eventually just given up and swayed against her while she grinded against him.

A grin spread out across his lips probably dirtier than he intended. Catching Betsy's watchful eye though, he stepped back with a straight face. He didn't care how old Betsy was, she was a scary woman when she wanted to be.

Dahlia turned around and tossed her arms around his neck in a fit of giggles. "I Gotta Feeling" by The Black Eyed Peas echoed against the walls of the tunnel room from the battery powered stereo that played Leech's iPod.

"I want to show you something," Dahlia hiccupped, tapping a finger to his nose. He raised an eyebrow and pulled his face back from the stench of alcohol. He tugged down the tight shirt that had started to creep up her waist. He took her hips and steadied her on her feet.

"I think you've shown me quite enough for today, don't you?" His lips pulled back into a smile at her drunk giggles.

"N-no. No." She giggled. "I want to show you something! Come oooonnnn!" She let go of him and almost fell backwards if he hadn't of caught her arm and pulled her back with an arm around her waist. She giggled harder letting her head roll back. If he hadn't been holding her she probably would have fallen back on her arse.

She took hold of his arm and started pulling him towards the food room, almost tripping over herself the whole way. Once they were alone she had walked clumsily over to the bottles of wine in the corner and stuffed one under her arm.

"Don't you think you've had a bit too much, love?" He asked with a smirk.

"No! No, no sir." She said with a poorly done British accent and started pulling him towards his room with a serious look on her face.

"That was a god awful accent," He grabbed another beer while he was in the room. It was warm, but warm beer was better than no beer.

The music behind them grew fainter till it was no more than quiet background noise and she fell onto his bed in a fit of laughter, clutching her stomach for air. He took a seat on the subway chairs above his bed and leaned forward his elbows on his knees.

"Somethin' to show me?" He smiled in amusement at her.

Dahlia wheezed, taking a deep breath before calming down enough to look at him and not fall victim to laughter again.

"I forgot," She said with a stifled giggle.

"Of course you did," He chuckled, taking a drink. "You're drunk."

"I'm not drunk," Dahlia's arms fell back by her head and she pursed her lips together to glower at him. She pointed a finger at him dramatically. "You're drunk."

He shook his head with his smile that gave Dahlia butterflies—Or maybe that was the alcohol.

"You're stubborn." He said.

"You're stubborn!"

"No," He said simply, taking another drink and holding up a finger. "I'm never drunk, but you, you're drunk." He gave her a mock serious look.

She grinned back at him. "So, you are drunk."

He laughed loudly. "Provin' my point, love."

"Oh posh," She stuck her tongue at him.

"Posh means high-class," He corrected her and chuckled at the nasty look she gave him.

"Hey, hey, hey," She sat up and patted the spot beside her.

He raised an eyebrow at her and she nodded her head with wide eyes. He squinted at her oddly, not 100% what her hammered brain was trying to tell him.

"Sit with meee!" She whined.

"Well, speak y'bloody mind, I'm not psychic." He pushed himself up, letting his empty beer bottle fall to the floor before he sat where she beckoned.

"Good thing I'm not," She just grinned playfully at him and bit her finger. He paused and gave her a look.

"What's that s'posed to mean?"

"Nothing," She just grinned back. She gave a big yawn and he could tell her drunk high was starting to wear off. She honestly looked adorable when she was sleepy. "Mortimer?" She asked.

"Hm?" He took a swing of the wine he'd opened, hoping she would still be too drunk to care they were sharing a bottle.

"Tell me about yourself?"

He just looked down at her with his elbows on his knees, waiting for her to say something else. Anything else. Maybe even pass out.

"I mean," She looked up at him with sleepy eyes. "I told you a bit about myself today, and we aren't keeping you here anymore. I want to know…" She fiddled with the worn edges of his blanket. "Tell me about yourself?"

He fell silent wondering if it were really a good idea he told her anything at all. For lack of better judgment he would later blame anything other than himself; a smile twitched the corner of his lips.

"I grew up in an orphanage in York, England." He said and she watched him with wide childish eyes, chewing on the side of her finger. "The kids were ruthless, always makin' fun of my appearance 'n what not. Staff weren't much better either, could care less when the kids scared me off from dinner." He shrugged, looking down at the bottle in his hand.

"Bloody sapiens… think they're so much better than us. Eventually I just figured," He looked back at her, "'Don't be the bottom of the food chain.' Yanno? Got outta there when I could, not that they gave it any mind, so many kids there anyway prob' better to be rid of the ugly ones at least. Nobody wanted me 'round anyway." He took a swing of wine.

"Lived on the streets for a couple years-" He hiccupped. "-And learned to use my mutation. Didn't 'ave much skill back then though," His lip pulled back grimly as he thought back to his time in England. He winced as if remembering something particularly unpleasant. "Had a real nice set up once, abandoned church in the poorer part o'town. Some otha' homeless blokes found it though, near 'bout beat me to death for it an' left me in the streets t'die."

Dahlia furrowed her eyebrows in sympathy. "That's horrible…" She said quietly.

He only shrugged, "That's life for us, love. No rest for the wicked. A man found me though, only reas'n I didn't die I'd imagine," he thought back to when Magneto had found him beaten in the snow, "took me in for a'couple years, think he's abandoned me now too, though."

Dahlia couldn't help but note the sad air to his voice as he stared ahead with sad eyes.

"Course, couldn't have expected him to stay, not wit' this ugly ol' mug, now could I?" He looked to Dahlia with a weak smile that struck her heart. She couldn't fully wrap it around her brain what she'd wanted to accomplish quite at that moment, she just knew she had wanted him to feel better, to heal the sadness. She was always a fool to sympathy like that.

She had pulled herself up to him and cupping his cheek in her hand and kissed him softly. He didn't kiss her back, his filled to the brim with confusion. Everything happened so quickly. She'd kissed him, then was on him. He couldn't remember when he started kissing her back, or when his hands found their way under her shirt, or when he'd taken it off or when she'd taken off his or when he'd gotten on her.

And now, he laid there with her bare body rested against his, reliving all the intense emotions and thoughts of the previous night. One thing stood out to him though that made his stomach churn: fear.

The overwhelming fear that he wouldn't be good enough, that at any moment she would wake up and find in horror that she'd made some terrible, drunken mistake. He stroked a hand through her hair, staring up at the train's ceiling.

He should just have been happy that someone at least took some kind of pity on him but he didn't want her pity. He didn't want her to throw herself at him because she felt sorry for him. He wanted someone to care, he wanted her to care. Maybe she really did have some ulterior motive. What could she possibly want from him to give him so much?

He'd let her in. He'd let down walls. How blind was he? Some pretty girl comes along and pretends to care and he falls for it.

He pushed himself up to pull on his clothes in a hurry. He'd rather die than let her use him. He decided to leave before she did; he was tired of being abandoned and he wouldn't let it happen again.

He just didn't realize how much he would regret it later.

Dahlia's eyes welled up in tears as she sat in the room Mortimer had been staying in for the last couple of weeks. After her breakfast with Scott she'd gone straight home and waited for him all day and now that the end of day two was rolling around she was starting to doubt he would even come back.

Maybe she'd come on too strong. She was always moving too quickly with people, she'd meet somebody and bam, it was like she automatically considered them her best friend; Toad had been no different.

She trusted people too much and she always thought people liked her better than they did; Betsy was always telling her that. She'd flat out annoyed a mutant too much, thinking their cold nature and back-handed remarks were just part of who they were. But, as for Toad she'd honestly thought…Well, she didn't really know what she thought but she was starting to think that maybe he liked her a lot less than she thought he did. Maybe that's why he seemed so distant at times.

She had hope though, that he'd just gone out for something about would be back any day now but even she knew that was naïve. Alcohol, alcohol, alcohol. Though it did have some part in her throwing herself at him she knew she couldn't have blamed it on that. She hid her face in her hands. She cared too much, about everyone. That was her problem. She cared and gave so much that she was often left with nothing. She was a freak, and even freaks didn't want her.

She hiccupped a quiet sob, thinking back to the events of the day.

She'd woken up like any other day, stretched her body and twisted around to face Mortimer with a smile on her face. She didn't care that he was green and blotchy or that his eyes were too large or that he had a 13-foot-long tongue he could grab stuff with, she honestly didn't. She opened up to him, felt connected to him…but she had found him gone and that maybe she'd talked too much, or moved too quickly, or that he didn't like her ears or tail or maybe she'd just plain annoyed him so bad that he up and left.

She'd still gone looking for him though; she'd looked all over the tunnels and asked everyone if they'd seen him. Jinx had only said with a sneer that she'd seen him headed towards the exit this morning and hadn't even responded to her when she said good morning, not that she really cared, the dude was a prick half the time anyway.

She'd tried to push it into the back of her mind when she'd gone to breakfast with Scott but he could tell something was bothering her. They'd ended up talking about it though she hadn't really wanted to say she slept with some one last night and they'd run away. It would have made her sound god awfully pitiful, more than she already was with her tattered clothing and dirty hair.

She'd ended up just telling him when she'd woken up this morning her friend was missing, and she didn't think that he would be coming back. She's tried her hardest to make it seem like it was just part of her life that sometimes friends just find it's their time to move on. But she had the feeling that he thought it was more than that.

She'd first walked into the Waffle Hut thirty-minutes late if that wasn't bad enough, she hated being late. If anything she was normally thirty minutes early to anything. Scott had been glancing down at his watch with a cup of coffee in hand. Outside the snow had been falling slowly against the grey skies, building up on the sidewalks and road outside.

She'd apologized profusely and he accepted it easily, like it'd been nothing. She had been really surprised he was still there actually. They'd made small chat and she found out he lived at the Xavier Institute for Gifted Children and was kind of part of the staff, though he'd gotten an extra job at the Organic food store to get out more often. Being around so many kids, gets to you after a while, you know?

He hadn't really learned much about her though, that much she knew. She guessed he didn't want to pry into her "sensitive situation." She had a nice time despite the dark hole she felt looming in her. He even suggested taking her out to dinner next time to meet his girlfriend Jean. The whole "girlfriend" thing threw her for a loop. She had been starting to think he was into her, but then again she always thought people liked her more than they really did.