Chapter Eleven:
Her Heavy Heart

The last contents of my stomach emptied out into the toilet bowl and I shuddered in disgust. With one hand holding on to the toilet seat, I shut my eyes and waited for my stomach to settle. Unable to keep myself up, I let my legs give way underneath me and winched at the pain in my right leg. This reminded me of the last time I was sick, only, back then, I was laying in a comfortable bed with people taking care of me and not in the bathroom on some jet. It was not something I wanted to go through again. Thankfully, I knew this wouldn't last- or be as bad and painful- as the last one had, but it was still unnerving to me. My chest ached so badly, I felt like it would cave in at any moment and my head would pounding to a beat of its own. I vaguely wondered if my body was crashing again.

"No, it's not. Don't worry. I'd be a lot more worried if it was. You're gonna be just fine, just a little nausea from too much excitement."

Excitement? Before I could respond to Voice, another spoke out first.

"Feeling better, sweetie?" Dr. Grey asked, walking up behind me. Funny how I hadn't heard her coming or sensed, too distracted. There was a lot of sympathy radiating from her. I tried to shake the feeling away as best I could before I answered her, but just as I opened my mouth to reply the bile in the back of my throat burned and I lurched forward and vomited again. Footsteps quickly rushed forward and hands reached out to pull my loose hair away from my face. I had taken off my hat again.

A cold shudder went through me and another sharp pain to my stomach hit me as I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. Disgusting, I shuddered. Shaking a little I looked over my shoulder, towards the red-headed woman and smiled appreciatively at her concern. "I-I'm feeling much better now." It was a downright lie, but she didn't need to know that my stomach was killing me and that my head was going to crack at any minute. And don't get me started on my throat- felt like I swallowed acid or something. I was tired of playing the victim. I didn't want to be the damsel anymore. I was tired of people taking care of me. Though the feeling was nice, I couldn't let her know that I was ready to keel over and possibly pass out.

But she seemed to notice my discomfort anyway because she didn't look to convinced by my answer. I could only imagine how I looked. I imagined puffy eyes, dark circles, messy hair and a pale, sickly face. Oh, yeah. That's attractive. I never wanted a bath so badly. I wanted to crawl underneath a rock, or, at least, a bed and stay there until everything went back to normal.

Whatever that was, anyway…

"Here," she said, moving away to give me room in the cramped bathroom. It was located in the lower level of the jet. Well, it was really a tight space, but how I was feeling anything would have felt cramped. "I thought you could use some water."

I took the cold bottle of water from her, gratefully and muttered a quick thanks as I sat down on the tile floor and let my back rest against a wall behind me. I gurgled some water and spit it out, wishing I had something stronger to get the nasty after taste out of my mouth. After doing that about two more times, I finally allowed myself to drink some of it. After another couple of sips, I took a deep breath and looked up at Dr. Grey, who was still standing by the door, looking tired and unwell herself.

"She's worried about the others," Voice whispered as if it were some big secret. And by the others I was sure It meant her fiancé and Professor Xavier. From what I'd heard, no one could get in touch with either and it was starting to unnerve the adults.

As I sat and listened, a thought came to mind. "Where is everyone?" I asked, almost shyly. It had taken me a while to notice that she and I were the only ones around, as far as I could tell, which would explain why it had gotten so quiet. When I had rushed to the bathroom, with the help of Mr. Wagner, or Nightcrawler, who had noticed that I didn't look to good, everyone had been arguing over something I didn't understand. I was glad that they were gone, though. I hated the silence, but I really hoped that no one had heard me being sick.

Dr. Grey moved forward and crouched down beside me and said, "Setting up camp."

"Camp?" I repeated, wondering if I had heard her right. She nodded. "So, we're staying overnight?" It wasn't much of a question just something I wanted her to confirm.

"I can't get the jet off the ground 'til morning, there's still a lot of damage that needs to be repaired," she replied, looking quite thoughtful. "Have you ever been camping before?" I couldn't tell if she was prying or not. She was trying to make conversation, though and I was grateful that she was trying to make me feel included by talking with me and not at me.

"Once…" I began, but quickly trailed off. The last time I had gone camping was for my brother's birthday about three or four years ago, I was never good with dates but I remember it being one of the best days of my life even though it wasn't really about me. The entire family had gone and as much as I had protested about roughing it out in the woods, I had a lot of fun. Skipping rocks at the lake, fishing, telling scary stories and pulling pranks on one another, I knew that nothing could top that day. It was one of the few happy memories I had left. After that things began going South… "But that was a really long time ago," I finally said and then asked, "What about you?"

She smiled at the memory. "Last summer with Scott," she said. "He's sort of a nature freak, though you couldn't tell by looking at him."

"Scott," I repeated the name while trying to find the face to go with it, and then I remembered. "Is he the guy that was wearing sunglasses indoors?"

She laughed and nodded, "That's the one."

"How long have you two been together," I asked and then winced slightly because I thought that I shouldn't really be asking her these things. Some things were private and I didn't like people getting into my business.

But she didn't have a problem with answering, "A couple of years…we're getting married." She smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes and then she frowned slightly.

"You're worried."

She nodded.

"I'm sure everything is just fine, they'll be okay." I don't know why I was trying to comfort her. I didn't even know if it was working.

"I hope you're right."

I hope so too, I added silently, but I was sure that things were about to go downhill from here. Things always did. There was never a happy ever after, especially for me or the people around me… Oh, God. I sounded like one of those drama queens that always molded a situation to make it about themselves. I wasn't like that, but it was hard not to think that way.

"Something on you mind, sweetheart?" Dr. Grey asked, brining me out of my thoughts. She was curious, but she wasn't expecting a straight answer from me and I didn't know if I wanted to give her one.

"Don't you already know?" I asked in a somewhat cheeky tone and I regretted it as soon as it left my mouth. Dr. Grey and been nothing but kind to me since I arrived at the school and here I was being rude to her because I was still a little irked, but she was a mind reader, wasn't she? Surely she knew what was wrong with me. She didn't have to ask, just listen.

"Don't be rude," Voice chastised. "These people are only trying to help you, especially Jean."

Right as always, I thought with a sigh, but the damage was done.

"I thought it would be polite if I asked," she said, tucking some of her red hair behind ears.

"You told Mr. Logan," I finally said in an accusing tone, but it came out in a rush and I wondered if she even heard me. I knew that I had promised myself that I wasn't going to hold it against her for spilling, but invading my privacy and then telling the only person who didn't look at me like some sort of freak, upset me a little

Guilt. "Yes, I did," she admitted with a slow nod. "I'm sorry. I really am. I know that it wasn't my place to tell him, but…" she sighed, "I thought it would be best for him to know."

"But why?" I asked in mild desperation and then I shook my head, dismissing the questioning I had asked. "Never mind, it's okay. It's not your fault." You were only trying to help, I added silently.

"It's not your fault either," she said and for a moment I couldn't quite understand what she meant by it, but then I turned my head in her direction and there was something in her eyes that wasn't there before. Sadness for me. And that made me angry for some reason.

"You have no idea what you're taking about," I could feel my eyes hardening. "How could you possibly know?" I asked her, my voice just a little higher than before. "You weren't even there!"

"You're right. I wasn't there," she said, moving slightly so that she was crouched in front of me. I fought the urge to move away, she was too close to me, but something was keeping me in place. "But you were. I saw what happened. It wasn't your fault," she repeated, trying hard to get that point across.

"But you don't know the whole story," I tried to argue with her. "I could have saved them."

She sighed, "If you had tried, you would have died as well. You weren't as strong then."

"I'm not strong now," I muttered quietly. I'm not anything.

"I think you are," she said and believed it. "But you're trying to suppress it, Logan told me about your barrier--"

"It was an accident," I said, sitting up, ready to defend myself. "I didn't mean to hurt him, it just happened-I warned him-he didn't listen-I tried-I couldn't-"

"Carolina, it's going to be okay," her hands made a move to grab my shoulders, but she refrained from touching me. I could feel the mother in her wanting to comfort me as best as she could, make me feel like I was safe. "Everything's going to be okay," the tips of her fingers barely touched my hair as she spoke.

I shook my head, "It's not--I can't." A lump in my throat had formed and was preventing me from speaking. My eyes were already tearing up even though I was fighting really hard not to cry. "Even if we make it through this," I began. "I can't control this power." I waited for her to speak, but when she didn't I continued. "I've tried, but I can't. I'm just so tired all I want to do is find a place to hide. This power is eating away at me and you know it."

She nodded "I'm going to help you through this," she said with dedication in her voice. "I've met so many people with powers that scared them to no end and made them think that it was going to destroy them and I'm going to help you just like I did for them. I promise you."

She was being serious. She wanted to help me.

"Am I interrupting somethin'?" A gruff voice asked from outside the other side of the doorframe.

Startled by Mr. Logan's sudden appearance, I quickly wiped my face with the back of my hands, erasing any traces of tears. I didn't need him to see me like this, it was already embarrassing enough that she had seen me crying. Dr. Grey stood up from her spot on the floor and made her way towards him, slightly blocking me from his path to give me a bit of privacy, which I thought was the whole idea.

"No," she told him and turned back to face me. "Are you going to be okay, sweetheart?"

I nodded and just as she moved to leave the room completely I called out her name. "Thank you." And I really was.

"Anytime," she responded with a wink and a smile as she left.

A part of me wish she had stayed. I really didn't want to be left alone with Mr. Logan at the moment. Maybe he had come to lecture me or something. Whatever it was, I wished that he would just go on with it so that we could move on from whatever the problem was.

"You feelin' any better?" He asked, breaking the silence first.

I turned my attention to where he was standing, arms crossed and looking as gruff as always in his white shirt and strange hair. I nodded, biting my lip a bit intimidated by his unwavering eyes. The thought of him being shot in the head sprang back into my mind and played over and over again. A loud bang, screams and a heavy thump. I'd seen plenty of things, but never someone rise from the dead. I'd never met a dead man before, but then again Mr. Logan wasn't dead. But he wasn't a zombie either. She should have been dead, but he wasn't. What was he?

"Need some help gettin' up or are ya just gonna sit there all night?"

I barely thought twice. "Please."

He walked over without a word, boots echoing through the silence until he bent down and picked me up off the bathroom floor bridal style. I jerked a little, trying hard to ignore everything and a little surprised. When he had offered to help me up, I hadn't expected him to pick me up. I thought that he'd give me a hand and let me lean on him. Instead he carried me out of the bathroom and sat me down in the nearest chair.

"Thanks," I muttered, pulling down the sleeves of my shirt. I tried really hard not to look at his face, especially his forehead, but it was impossible. How could I ignore the fact that he'd been shot and gotten up like it was nothing when it was most definitely something! All of this was making my head hurt more than it was suppose to. I raised my hand to my temple and rubbed it clockwise as I shut my eyes.

"Somethin' wrong?"

"You're suppose to be dead!" I finally said, mentally slapping myself for even opening my mouth, but once I started I couldn't stop. "The bullet hit you right in the head, the center of your forehead, and you were dead. I saw it. You were bleeding. You weren't moving. Not breathing and I thought--I thought--"

"Hey, hey, hey," he bent down so that he was at eye level with me as he spoke. "Calm down, you're getting all riled up for nothin'"

My eyes went wide, "For nothing?! Mr. Logan I don't know what part of 'you died' you don't understand. Please tell me how is it that you were shot in the head and came out alive because I don't understand."

I was frustrating him, I could feel it and I thought for a second I felt anger but it quickly turned to pity. But I didn't want pity, I wanted answers!

With a sigh, he went into his explanation. "I'm different from other mutants," he said. "I have a healing factor, it allows me to heal from any wound. And I mean any, but there's a lot more to it than that."

"Your claws and your hyped senses?"

He nodded. "I'm like you, in a way. It's why Jean told me what happened to you." He grabbed my hand, which I had been resting on my lap. "You an' I have a lot in common."

I snatched my hand away and pressed both palms against my head, ignoring the pain in my broken arm, which had dulled a little. "That's all you and Dr. Grey say, that we have a lot in common, but I don't understand what you mean." I was becoming incredibly frustrated with them both, even though I knew they were only trying to help.

He sighed and got up, and for a moment I thought he was leaving, but then he grabbed a chair and pulled it to where I was. "I know what they did to you," he said and I grew increasingly uncomfortable. "I don't know all the details, but I understand."

I waited for him to continue.

"From what I remember, I've always had this healing factor and my senses, but this," his claws cut through the skin of his knuckles and I jerked away, startled. "I wasn't born with this."

My eyes widened and I understood. "They did this to you?" He nodded, brows furrowed, frowns and all. "How?"

"Don't really know, but I'm trying damn hard to find that out."

"Does it hurt?" I asked, childishly as I stared as his hands and fought the urge to reach out and touch him.

"Every time," he replied and retracted his claws and we sat in silence for a while.

I stared at my own hands and tired to picture how it would feel to have gone through what he did, the pain he must have felt.

"But you did," Voice said. "The probing and the cutting."

I nodded and finally came to a decision, "Mr. Logan?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm ready to tell you everything."