I wait for her to blow-dry her hair, debating with myself mentally. I should at least tell her, shouldn't I? I feel perfectly capable of freezing at the moment. Not even a little bit of the goofy lightheadedness remains.
She holds out a hand and I grasp it and snap my fingers.
Immediately I can tell that this wasn't my best idea yet.
Waves of nausea chase away any hunger I felt for a late supper.
"Blanc, I-"
"So, I was thinking," she interrupts, "could we maybe snoop in my sister's room? Or go to the dining room and move all the meals two spots to the left. Or both. You have a pretty cool power, Lapse."
"Blanc."
"Not a good idea?" She turns from the mirror where she brushes her hair. "Are you ok? You look positively green."
"I should have told you. I pushed myself too hard in one-on-one today. I passed out."
She hurries to me, leaving the hairbrush floating by the closet door.
She tells me to put my head between my knees, but that just makes it harder for me to breathe deeply.
"Oh no," I say once. Then the scene goes dark.
I have the feeling a lot of time is passing, but it's just so nice to sleep. Someone gives me water and applesauce, but it's weird to swallow. I have to push it down into my throat with my tongue, as if gravity isn't helping at all. It's too much to think about. My head hurts too badly to do that kind of thinking.
I think someone's playing with my fingers. I give a light squeeze and giggle. What a flirtatious gesture that is! Who could possibly be playing with my fingers? The light when I try to open my eyes is too much. The calling of my name is too loud.
"Lemme sleep," I mutter.
"Please wake up!" I hear.
I'm fed more applesauce. All this water is making me have to go to the bathroom.
I open my eyes.
"Oh, hello there," I say to the blonde figure sitting by my bed. Her head lifts instantly.
"Lapse!" she shouts, "Snap your fingers!"
I do, and with a clatter Blanc's hairbrush falls. She stands and runs from the room. For the second time that day, Jean Grey is by my bedside.
"You just don't know how to follow directions, do you, Lapse?"
I don't feel like looking at her. "I apologize, Professor Grey."
She has me prop myself up on some pillows and hands me the glass of water that's on my bedside table. She goes to the corner where Blanc stands watching and they talk in hushed tones. I can hear them clearly in the small room.
"How long were you two in there?"
"More than a day," Blanc says quietly, "It was so hard to tell, but I ate three meals at least. I tried to snap her fingers for her, but it didn't work."
"No, it wouldn't. Her finger-snapping is really just a carrier for her power. A physical interpretation. It helps her determine its start and stop. Similar to Xavier putting his fingers to his temples when he needs to concentrate. He can do without it, but it's something you'll see him do. A lot of mutants do that sort of thing. Trust me, there was nothing you could have done better."
"I just-" Blanc starts to cry, "I was so worried, Professor Grey. If she had died It would have been my fault. Do you think I'd be stuck there forever?"
"I don't know. We haven't done any readings on her. She could be creating, as she's coined, a lapse in time, or it could be something more large scale, like a different physical plane. With either of those, yes you would have been stuck.
"But if it's more like a mental state or something transcendent, well." She looks towards me now. "There's no telling what might have happened."
"I'm not sure I understand what you're implying."
She smiles tightly. "Neither do I, Blanc."
I'm scolded harshly by Jean Grey, but when she leaves the look on Blanc's face makes it worth it.
"I thought you'd tattle," she says, sitting on my bed and eating the rest of the applesauce, "She gave you so many opportunities. 'What even gave you the idea?' 'Why would you drag poor Blanc into this debauchery.'"
I laugh. "I never once heard the word debauchery come out of her mouth."
Blanc giggles too. "Excuse me for a moment," she says, miming shame, "It seems my British is showing. The Americans around here can't handle the propriety."
It feels good to laugh.
I sleep solidly all night. I wake up around noon. I would sleep more, but I'm lifted from my dreaming by the scent of some kind of hot food.
Blanc sits cross-legged on the end of my bed with a bowl. I sit slowly up, wiping crusts from my eyes. The light stings. I put on a pair of sunglasses from the bedside table. Blanc hands me the bowl, a spoon, and a small package of crackers.
"It's chicken noodle," she says, "I thought it would be stereotypical to give to you, given your state."
"It's a lovely mundane," I say. I sprinkle the crackers on top and take a hesitant sip. I set it aside to cool.
"Your friends keep asking about you," she says.
"Who?" I ask, my mouth still full.
"Some guy. A blonde chick. A girl with wings."
"If I'm right, those are Coleton, Scarlett, and Douma, respectively."
"They seem nice enough."
I lower my sunglasses and raise an eyebrow. "Only nice enough?"
"Well, Scarlett and Douma are a frightening pair you must admit."
"They're really nice, Blanc!"
"I'm sure they are! I just have to meet them, right?"
"Yeah."
Then she looks at me suspiciously.
"That Coleton is exceptionally worried."
I try not to let my interest in this news play over my face. She smirks at me.
"He's cute. Don't get involved, Lapse."
I blush. "Too late."
She groans and hits me gently. "Lapse! You just met him!"
"Yes, and how am I supposed to ever date anyone if I'm not even supposed to meet the guy?"
She scoffs. "You're supposed to be friends with them first."
"I am! It's not like I've gone on a date with him. We aren't formally courting, or whatever you do in the olden country. He's just a friend. An acquaintance, really. A very, very, cute acquaintance."
She hits me again, laughing.
I get up after I eat my soup. I have no issue standing, and I can tell Jean's relieved when she sees me in the living room.
"Was there any sort of sign," she asks me, "During tutoring. Did you know when it was getting to be too much?"
"I did feel a bit nauseous." I say.
"I'm sorry," she says, "You were trying to tell me something that last time, weren't you?"
"It's ok, Professor," I smirk, "Just try to listen next time."
She squints at me. "I had an entirely different reason to say that to you, Lapse. I was giving you very specific instructions-"
I throw my hands into the air. "I get it," I say, "But we need to know that you can be trusted in a life or death situation."
I'm only joking, repeating to her basically what she said to me, but I can tell, now, that she doesn't find it funny.
"Lapse, stop it," she says. Maybe I hit a nerve. I remember what Blanc said to me about the Phoenix, and realize that maybe Jean isn't able to be trusted in a dangerous situation. Who knows what might set her off.
"I apologize," I say seriously, "I was only-"
"Joking, right?" she says with a shallow smile, "It's fine, Lapse. I understand. I actually came over here to tell you that we'll be administering a few tests tomorrow. Just some medical readings, if you don't mind."
I shrug. "Do I really have a choice?"
She smiles. "You catch on fast. I'll be escorting you downstairs at ten o'clock sharp."
Blanc makes this seem normal. "Yeah," she says, "I got a few tests when I came in the first time. Nothing extensive, you know? I think my parents sent in a few readings they had done, though, so maybe you'll have some more to go through. They do that sort of thing with the brainy ones."
I can't help but get a little nervous, though. I've never liked doctors offices or dentists, and my imagination is making it seem like that's what the tests will be like. Needles and drills and little electric stickers that hurt to peel off.
I'm not looking forward to it.
Thank you guys for reading! I'm enjoying this as much as you are. I'd just like to warn you, though. I may not be able to keep up with this as often as I like as college picks up. I'll try my hardest, but I don't know how things will go.
-flutterbye1888
