I wake slowly, hazily, until the bright light forces my stinging eyes shut again. But that is all I feel, the light burning my eyes. My head tells me to wake up, to move as expected. But my heart tells me to stay, because nothing matters now. Although I know my sister has been dead for months, I had never seen her grave until yesterday. And now it's all too real. It doesn't matter that I've gotten rid of the block in my mind, Grace is dead because of me. I should be dead, not her. I ruined everyone's lives, not her. I roll over and close my eyes, because nothing matters now, she's dead, the reality cold and final.

I'm vaguely aware of people coming into the room, Morgan the first. I can't hear what she's saying, and I don't bother asking. It's not important now. I hear her leave but she doesn't return alone. Laura is with her I think, and I can hear them mumbling through the blanket pulled over my head, hiding me from the world. Laura comes to me then, murmuring useless words through the sheet, putting a hand on my shoulder, giving me a shake, and I just groan.

"Are you sick?" she asks, her voice steady.

"No," I reply, my answer short. "Can you just leave me alone?"

"Of course," she says, rubbing my arm through the blanket. "If you want a little space for a while, sure."

I close my eyes as she leaves the room, telling Morgan to keep an eye on me. And she does, asking me if I'm okay every couple of hours, if I need anything, and does that for two days before she calls Laura back in. She can't say much, but says I need to move soon or she'll have no choice but to take me to the infirmary to recover. I haven't eaten or drank anything in almost three days, but I don't care. I don't want to do it anymore.

Kitty comes in and tells me everything's going to be ok, but it has no effect. How can things be okay when I'm a murderer? How can it be okay when I tore my family apart? Morgan tries to tell me the same thing, tries to get me to eat, but I can't. I can't keep going.

I get a shock when I feel someone sitting on my bed, waking me. The thick southern accent cuts through the fogginess in my mind though.

"I know you've got demons, kid," Rogue says, her voice demanding my attention. "But you can't let them win. Do you want her to have died for nothing? Fight it, or you may as well be dead."

She leaves the room feeling cold, somewhere I don't want to be. I know she's right, but it's scary. If I can't learn to control this, then she'll have died for absolutely nothing.

When Morgan comes in the next time, she's surprised to see me sitting up, still wrapped in my blanket, but sitting up on my own. I'm looking out the window when I feel her sit down next to me.

"Feeling a little better then?" she asks, her voice soft in my slightly ringing ears.

I nod slowly. "Yeah," I mumble. "Shit, but a little better."

"Want something to eat? You haven't eaten in almost three days," she says, her hand on my back.

"Yeah, I'm feeling a little faint actually, I should be right," I tell her, and she gives my shoulder a squeeze as she stands up.

"I'll be back in a minute, you'll be right until then?" she asks, heading for the door.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," I murmur, my voice cracking after three days of doing nothing.

She comes back after a couple of minutes, setting a plate down on my table. There are a couple of pieces of toast and a glass of water.

"I told Laura you were up, do you want her to come up? I can look after you if you're going to be okay," she says, passing me one of the slices of toast. I nibble disinterestedly for a moment before shaking my head. I'd rather have Morgan look after me until I can talk properly than see Laura if I have to.

I slowly alternate eating cold toast and sipping water until my head loses that swooping light feeling and starts feeling like it's actually mine again. Once I've eaten, I feel tight and wound up, but I've been lying in bed for three days and I need to move.

"Want to go for a walk, Darc?" Morgan asks, tilting her head to look at me.

"Looking like this?" I say with a wry smile, making her laugh.

"Fair point," she says, her dark eyes lighting up. "Stay there, I'll get you something to wear. You look like you need a hand."

"Yeah," I mumble, "I probably do."

She pulls clothes out of my wardrobe and slowly helps me dress, and I wince as my joints crack and my muscles stretch. Light track pants, a t-shirt and hi-tops take almost twenty minutes to put on, and Morgan patiently helps me until I'm dressed, and then gently brushes and braids my hair.

"Everything's going to be alright, Darc, you're going to be okay," she murmurs, running her fingers through my hair. "I'll look after you."

The sun kisses my skin as I step outside, Morgan's hand on the small of my back, keeping me balanced. It feels good after hiding away, even though it takes a minute for my eyes to adjust to the glare. A few people throw me wary glances, but I don't care, I'm over that. I know I'm not wearing my gloves, but it's not like I'm going to touch anyone. I rarely do when I am wearing gloves anyway. Morgan finds a secluded spot under an oak tree in the yard and helps me sit, my legs still stiff. We just sit and watch everyone else for a while, until I feel her dark eyes on me. I turn to look at her and she's watching me almost absentmindedly, until she opens her mouth to speak.

"Where did she take you?" she murmurs, her eyes as soft as her voice.

"Home," I say, but I know she wants more. "I went to my house, and saw my mum. And I went to my sister's grave to say goodbye. And I think I fixed it."

"Was that hard?" she asks, genuine care in her voice.

My throat starts closing over as I realise I'm about to cry. "It hurt like you wouldn't believe." My breath comes in tight, choking gasps. "She's dead because of me, Morgan, I killed her because I'm not strong enough."

"Don't you ever say that," she replies sharply. "You are strong enough, you will learn. If you won't push yourself I will. You can do it."

This time I don't shy away from her. "Yes, I can," I tell her. Because I know I can.

It's not until dinner that somebody else tries to talk to me, and it's Kitty. She picks her time well, waiting until everybody's finished eating and about to go up to their rooms before she pulls me aside, just as I go through the doors. Her touch startles me, and I shy away from her until I realise who it is.

"You're up again," she says, with the smallest of smiles, and she sounds relieved. "Laura wanted me to make sure you're alright."

"Does she want to see me?" I ask quietly, almost fearing the answer. As much as I'm grateful for everything she's done, and how much she's cared for me, I don't want to see a telepath when I'm like this.

"Not necessarily now," she says slowly, "but at some point, yes."

"Does she want to read my mind?" I ask tentatively.

Kitty hesitates in her answer, not meeting my eye. "Yes, she wants to read your mind, see if it's clear now."

The way she hesitates, trails off, has me suspicious. "Kitty, what aren't you telling me?"

"I'm telling you all I know," she replies quickly. She hesitates, before adding, "but that doesn't mean that's all there is to know."

"Kitty, I-"

"I'm glad you're feeling better, kid," she interrupts. "I've gotta go, get down to Laura soon, please." She hurries off, leaving me standing alone by the door shaking my head.

I find Laura waiting outside my room, leaning up against the doorframe.

"I know I asked Kitty to send you down, but I had a feeling you wouldn't want to," she tells me as I open the door to let us both in.

"She also told me you wanted to read my mind," I point out as I sit on the edge of my bed.

"And you don't want me to?" She knows I don't, she's probably already been in my head. "I have to, Darcy, especially after you shut down."

"Fine," I sigh, "do it." I shudder as she places her fingers on my temples. She's wearing gloves, but I hate the touch, the threat of my power hanging over me. Any touch is too intimate for me, too close for me to feel comfortable.

The sensation of her in my head, playing out my visions is overwhelming, watching with closed eyes as she sees me leaving my blood with Grace, talking to Maddie, and I realise once she's stopped that I've started silently sobbing. She pulls me closer, and I tense.

"Too close?" she asks, leaning back.

"I just can't," I whisper. "I can't hurt you."

"You won't hurt me Darc, I promise. I won't put you in a position to hurt me ever." Still she moves away, watching closely for my reaction.

"Did I… did I actually fix it? Will it work now? Can I stop being a monster?" At this last sentence I cry again, and she doesn't close in again.

"Yes," she says simply. She opens her mouth to go on but doesn't say anything. "I'll go now, Darc. Please don't shut down again, you scared us all."

"Don't worry," I mutter, "I won't."

I slide into bed without going out to see the others, and Morgan's return wakes me with a dull sort of jolt. I keep my eyes shut, hoping she'll go away, but I hear her walk over to my bed, but stops just short I think.

"Sweet dreams, kid," she says, wandering back to her bed and changing quietly.

I focus on my breathing now, slowly so she doesn't suspect I'm awake. I don't want to talk about it, I don't want a telepath in my head. I don't want anyone where I can hurt them. Laura never said anything before she left, about when I called myself a monster. She never said otherwise. Maybe she believes it too. Maybe I'm no better than a monster after all. Maybe there's nothing nobody can do and they all just feel sorry for me. Who knows by now, maybe I'm always going to kill people when they get too close. Maybe I just have to live like this, no matter what they say. Maybe there's nothing they can do at all.