-New: Added Dialogue & Scene-

Chapter Three:
Don't Stop and Stare

"Try to stay awake, Gyps. If you fall asleep, you might not wake up. That blow that you took is a lot worse than you realize."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. I really didn't want to open them. "Somehow, I doubt that," I murmured, hoping that Mr. Logan hadn't heard me speaking. V, as much as I hated to admit, was right - I should stay awake, or at least try, but it was easier said than done. My head was still throbbing, hands ached. I felt so dizzy - all I wanted to do was sleep….

"Stay awake!"

I jerked a little, opening my eyes and blinking several times, letting them adjust to the brightness of the sun. I pushed myself away from the built man in front of me, staring at the back of his head. It was strange… but around him I could just barely feel what he was feeling. If I did it was faint. When I realized that, I had let myself relax against him. I had been so tired, drained of energy and he didn't seem to mind the closeness. He had stiffened at first, but didn't say anything. I suppose that he was just being polite, playing out his role as the knight in shinning armor.

Tired of staring the back of Mr. Logan's head, I lowered my gaze to my arm, which was now wrapped around and tied my behind my neck for support, like an arm sling to keep it from moving. We had only been a couple of hours into the ride and hit a speed bump that caused my arm to bounce around. I had tried to keep myself from crying out, but failed miserably. He had heard and pulled over onto the side of the road and went into his bag, pulled out a long sleeve plaid shirt and made a temporary sling for me. I was grateful for his shirt, but felt bad. Needless to say, the ride became a lot more comfortable then it had been.

"He seems like a good guy," V had said while Mr. Logan tied my arm. I agreed. He seemed a little rough around the edges, but I had a feeling he was a bit of a softy when it came to damsels in distress.

"Hey, kid, how're you holdin' up back there?" I was so caught off guard off by the sound of his voice, (during the trip he'd barely said anything to me) I jumped a little. He turned his head to the side to look at me through the corner of his eye. "D'ya hear me? I asked if you were all right?" He repeated, turning back to face the road.

"Um," I cleared my throat - it still felt a bit sore from all the screaming I had done earlier, even with the water that he had given me. "I'm a little tired, sleepy." I told him, truthfully, trying to speak as loud as I could over the engine. And for some unknown reason, I added - "I don't know what hurts more though - my head, my arm or my ass." I pushed myself away from him again, lifting myself a little and made myself a little more comfortable.

Mr. Logan let out a surprised chuckle and for some reason - I beamed, feeling rather proud of myself for causing it. He didn't seem like the type of guy who laughed very much. I suddenly felt like a giddy school girl. I sighed. I really hated being seventeen. "Well, I can't really do anything about your ass, but I'm sure when we get to the school Jean will take a look at your arm and give you something for that headache of yours."

Good. I could use an aspirin. Or two. Maybe half a dozen.

"You'd overdose," V pointed out and I rolled my eyes. Spoilsport.

The rest of the ride was silent, except for the loud engine of the motorcycle, which was giving me an even bigger headache. I found myself cloud watching, hoping it would help fight off the boredom and my drowsiness - no such luck there. It only seemed to make things worse but there was only so much I could do. My boredom was short-lived, though, when we finally hit civilization and pulled up into a gas station full of people. "Are we out of gas?" I asked, looking around anxiously. There were too many people.

"Thought we could use a little break," he said, stepping off the bike suavely, eyeing pedestrians as they passed by. He raised an eyebrow at them, frowning and then turned his direction to me. "Need something to haul me over till we reach the school. You want something?" He offered. I shook my head, declining politely even though I was kind of hungry myself. "I'll be back then," he started walking off then suddenly stopped and turned around. "Don't go anywhere. And, do me a favor, watch the bike," he added before turning away.

I glared at the back of his head. "And just where do you think I'm gonna go?" I called out, voice hoarse, but he had already disappeared into the store. I shook my head, clearing my throat as I turned away from him and looked around.

To my utter horror, some people, who were filling their gas tank up, were staring at me and when they saw that I had noticed, they'd turn away quickly and began to whisper. I frowned, shifting in my seat. They're talking about me, I thought, embarrassed. I looked down at myself, taking everything in - my clothes, covered in dirt and blood stains, my ruined sneakers and hands. Yeah, I couldn't blame them for staring, but did they have to do it so openly? I kept my eyes cast down, trying to ignore the stares but I could feel them burning holes in me.

"What do you think happened?" I heard a female voice ask from somewhere beside me. If she had been trying to be discreet, she was doing a poor job because I could hear her clearly.

A sigh. "I don't know, Susan, just, mind your business," another voice replied, sounding somewhat uncomfortable. Probably her husband, I reasoned.

"Mind my - mind my own business?" The woman asked in disbelief. "W-what if she's in some kind of trouble, Henry. Did you think of that? Did you see the man she pulled up with?"

"Yes, I did," the man - Henry - said, "And I think that if she were in some type of trouble, she wouldn't be sitting there, staring into space."

"It's called Post-Traumatic Shock," she hissed. "Look at her, poor dear looks like she's been though hell and back…. Maybe - Maybe we should see if she's okay, and, you know, call the police. She looks like she needs to be taken to the hospital."

I flinched involuntarily at the words. I didn't need a hospital.

"Sue, don't --"

Footsteps approached me, slowly and then a voice reached my ears. "Excuse me, honey, are you all right?" I didn't respond. Please go away, I thought as she moved closer. Mr. Logan, what's taking you so long? "Dear?" She called again. She was standing beside the bike now, staring at me with uncertainty. "Can you hear me?" She was starting to get worried.

I blinked and turned her with much reluctance and found myself looking at an older woman, late forties probably with short black hair and brown eyes. "Yes?"

"Are you all right?"

"Y-yeah, I'm okay. Thanks," I offered a smile, but she didn't seem to convinced.

She opened her mouth to speak again but was cut off by a gruff voice asking, "Something I can help you with?" I whipped my head around, away from the wide eyed woman. Mr. Logan was standing behind me, staring at the woman. In his arm was a brown paper bag.

The woman raised an eyebrow and held her chin a little higher to show that she was not intimidated, but on the inside - she was uncertain, scared… and not just for herself. I felt something in me melt. "Yes," she said, taking a step forward. Her husband moved around their car and rushed towards his wife and held her by the arms. "You can start by telling me what happened to this poor child."

"I don't think that's any of your business, lady," was Mr. Logan's reply and I winced, wishing I was anywhere but here.

"Hey don't talk to my wife that way, buddy." the man - Henry, right? - defended. I had been right, then - they were married.

Mr. Logan raised an eyebrow. "Accident," he offered.

The woman bristled, "And why isn't she in a hospital?" People were starting to stop and stare.

"On our way there," Mr. Logan said. "Just stopped for some aspirin," and to prove his point he pulled out a white bottle and gave it a shake before handing it to me.

"Come on, Sue," her husband said, pulling her away, but she wouldn't budge.

She removed her glaring eyes from the tall, intimidating man and looked at me, eyes softening. "Dear, if you're being held against your will, you can tell me."

I looked at her, stare unwavering and I chose my words carefully. "I'm fine. He's only helping me, I swear. He hasn't hurt me, you don't have to worry."

She didn't seem to convinced but she accepted it either way and let her husband pull her away and into their car. My eyes never left her as she climbed in and she looked out her window at me and I offered her a small smile as she pulled out of the gas station.

"What was all that about?" Mr. Logan asked, leaning against the bike beside me.

I didn't turn to look at him. "She almost lost someone…," I told him, full of uneasy. "She thought… I needed help. She was only trying to help." I frowned, rubbing my temple with my middle and index finger.

"How do you know that?" He asked, voice suspicious. "She told you?"

I shook my head, "No, I felt it."

"You felt it?" More suspicion in his voice.

"Um," I blinked, trying to think of a way to explain. "I'm an Empath." I told him, not wanting to go into further detail on the subject. It wasn't a complete lie - I was an Empath, but there was more to me being able to feel other's emotion.

"Must be rough, huh? Bein' able to feel other people's suffering." There was something in the tone of his voice … I couldn't quite place it.

"Yeah… it is."

"You know," he started and I turned my attention to him. "I didn't want to make a big deal about what happened to you. It's obvious," I shifted in my seat. I had a feeling that he was going to bring it up eventually. "I can't say that I'm not curious, but I know how to keep out of other people's business. The people who work at the school - they're a bunch of busy bodies, they mean well, but they're gonna ask questions."

After a moment of silence, I asked, "Do you think I should tell them?"

He was quiet for a while, probably wondering if I should or shouldn't. He seemed to understand my situation and my embarrassment, even though I hadn't told him the whole story. I felt like I should tell him, I owed him that much after rescuing me, but for some reason I couldn't bring myself to do so. "Only if they ask. You don't have to tell them the whole story if you don't want to."

I nodded, "Thank you."

"Don't mention it, kid."

I shook my head, "No, I mean, thank you... for saving me back there." I swallowed some imaginary spit in my mouth. "If you hadn't come along when you did. I could have been..." I couldn't bring myself to say more. I would probably burst into tears if I had to relive the situation in my head.

Feeling my uneasiness, he reached over and patted my hand and said, again. "Don't mention it, Kid."

"Thanks," I murmured, quietly. And then I realized something. "Hey, do you have to call me 'kid' all the time?"

He looked at me, narrowing his eyes. "No," he shook his head and I smiled. "I could call you squirt," he added with a small smirk. I frowned, raising an eyebrow but said nothing as he began to dig into his brown bag.

"Look on the bright side, Carolina, he could have given you a worse nickname."

"Yeah, but did it have to be 'squirt'?" I muttered under my breath, positive that only V could have heard what I had said, but then Mr. Logan had turned to look at me and let out a low chuckle. "You heard that?" I asked, brows raised. "You've got good hearing."

"Comes with the mutation."

"Oh, I see..." I trailed off.

"Kids still like this stuff, right?" He asked suddenly, handing me a candy bar and a brownie covered in plastic. It was my turn to roll my eyes, but I took it appreciatively, muttering a thanks and giving him a small smile. "I know you said you didn't want anything, but you can't take aspirin on an empty stomach."

"Thanks. So, how long is it going to take to get to the school?"

"Not long, we're about an hour away." He looked out into the distance. "We'll be leaving soon."

I sighed, following his gaze. Something in me stirred, couldn't quite place the feeling. I sighed again, taking a bite of my brownie and thinking that things were starting to look up for me.