Chapter Five: Hurting

I woke with a start, cold sweat sliding down my back and chest. The room was no longer vibrating as bombs hit the ground, no more scorching heat burning my skin. The terror slowly ebbed away as I realized I was back in my lovely little room on Muir Island. I was no happier to realize that Judith left the tray beside me, just as I had requested. Surprisingly, there was only two cups instead of three; they were trying to ease me off of certain medications. That meant I was getting out of here soon.

Next to the paper cups, there was a small sticky note, neat cursive letters scribbled on it.

Here are your meds for the day. Smile a bit and open up the bag in the corner of the room.

-Jamie

At least she left some clue to what her name was. Not that I'd remember it anyway.

After downing the medication, I glanced over to the corner. Instead of smiling, I did quite the opposite as I glanced over Alex's knapsack again.

He had let me borrow it when I went on an undercover mission and I never really got around to give it back.

Pained memories of his evil brother, Gabriel (two Summers brothers was enough, trust me, we didn't need a third one; all of the heartache and brooding was unhealthy for everyone) hit me, images of him throwing Alex into an inferno, into a ball of heat and gas; when Alex died, a part of me did the same.

Whoever packed the knapsack to bring over here probably had no idea it was his. Why the nurse wanted me to open it, I had no idea. Why should she care what was inside of it? It was most likely another personal mind session; they had been doing that lately, leaving things for me to find, hoping it would trigger something positive in my mind.

Having nothing better to do, I pushed the covers off and grasped the gray bag, pulling it back to the bed. Carefully I unzipped the largest pocket like it was made of tissue paper. There, at the very bottom of the bag, was one of his t-shirts. My favorite, to be exact, the faded light blue color always bringing his eyes out. I used to wear it all the time, in love with the masculine scent forever imbedded into the fibers. I held it tightly, breathing in the scent of home.

Digging around some more, I found a vial of liquid metal, which only confused me further. I set it down on top of the shirt, shifting to the smaller pocket in front.

I pulled out my key chain; the keys to the Mansion's front and back door, the sub level manual access, and the front gates hung on a ring, along with the metal charm Alex bought for my birthday a while back. The fact that my key chain sat in the bag only continued to freak me out. I had purposefully left it in my room in Genosha, changing the words around as a clue.

With barely any concentration, Help Us All turned back to I Love You. I laid it down next the vial on the shirt.

The last item in the bag made me refuse to hold my tears back any longer. A simple woven bracelet with several blue and white beads strung on the sides made me recognize Alex's souvenir from his life in Hawaii. He never took it off, excluding the times he wore his suit. I dumped the vial and the keychain in the bag and pushed it to the floor clutching the shirt to my chest, my grip tight on the bracelet. I fell backwards onto the bed again, my head hitting the pillow as sob after sob racked my body.

I hated everything. I hated this stupid island, I hated Genosha, I hated humans, I hated the X-Men; everything caused me pain. Humans sent Sentinels and hurt everyone, they hurt me; Alex was dead because of his job and I was barely recovering because of mine.

I didn't think it was possible to miss someone that much. I didn't think missing someone so much could hurt as bad as it did.

The memory of his beautiful blue eyes and blonde hair made me cry even harder. I would give anything to see him one last time, to touch him, to smell him, to kiss him, to just be in his embrace once again, to feel his presence. I would do anything to have him back; I would rejoin the Acolytes if it meant having him back. I would love my father if it meant having him back.

I was hurt. I was sad. A combination of the both, I grew angry. I wanted to rip the facility apart, well aware that I had the ability to do it. I wanted to scream, wanted to rip the entire island and everyone with it to pieces. But despite my boiling emotions, all I could do was sob, to cry harder and harder, to hate everything because I couldn't do anything about anything.

The door flew open and Moira ran in.

"Oh, dearie." She said, sitting on the bed. "What's wrong?"

"Why did you do this?" I asked, holding up the items. "Why did you use his things as a test?"

She seemed to catch on immediately. She grabbed my hand tightly, her voice sympathetic. "We didn't use any of these as a test, love."

"Your nurse left a note on the tray! She told me to open the knapsack, told me to smile! How did any of you know what was in it?" I cried, brushing my hands through my hair.

She was silent for a moment. "Let me just take them and put it back. I'll send the bag back to your friends." Moira reached for the items in my killer grip.

I pulled away before she could touch them. "No!" I cried loudly. "I want them here! They're all that I have left of him."

"Alright, alright." She said, pulling her hand back. "Look dear, you'll be alright. I promise, things'll look much better. In fact, Hank stopped by to check in."

I wanted to curl up and die. "Why didn't you let me see him!?"

"You were fast asleep, love. Medicine wouldn't have worn off by then."

More tears rushed down my face.

She reached over to the nightstand and pulled a tissue from the box, wiping my tear soaked cheeks.

"I want to talk to them. I want to go back." I looked at her through blurry vision. "Please Moira, just send me back. I want to go home."

"I know." She soothed, tucking hair behind my ear. "But you need to get better first. How about we work on those voices again, hm?"

"I just want them to leave me alone." I whimpered, sounding more like an abandoned child than a sad adult.

"How many do you think are left?" She asked, squeezing my hand.

"I dunno...about 20 or 30." I wiped my nose, aware that I probably looked like total crap.

"Good. Let's get them out. I promise, you'll go home soon."