Runaways: Book II

XIX

"Bo should be strong again in a couple months."
I quickly turned my head, comforted by the familiar voice behind me.
"Hank."
I rose to my feet from the edge of my bed and rushed over to him, standing on my toes to reach my arms around his shoulders. I rested my head there for a moment, realizing only then that he was the closest thing I'd ever have to some sort of sibling. Standing beside him felt natural, like I had been there for as long as I could remember.
"I'm so glad you're alright," I told him as I lifted my arms away and settled back down on my heels.
"It's not over yet. Magneto's still out there," he paused for a second, adding in a strained voice, "...and Raven."
Then he was lost for a moment, gone away to somewhere in his head that pained his face and made his eyes go just a bit dimmer.
He snapped back to me.
"I'm glad you're okay, too. Did you have much trouble at the Research Center?"
I breathed sharply in, remembering the holding cell and how close I had actually been to death. I pushed it back away and shook my head,
"We're alright now. That's all that matters."
"And Peter? He's alright?"
I smiled as Peter's warm face imprinted itself across my mind, feeling pins and needles brush my cheeks as if it were the first time I had met him.
"Peter is Peter. He's probably off listening to Pink Floyd somewhere, poking around all of Xavier's stuff."
Hank moved from the doorway and lightly pushed the door shut, inquiring in a hushed tone,
"And what about the two of you?"
I sighed, my vision shifting to my feet.
"I don't know, Hank. A couple nights ago...I could sense his feelings for me. I guess they never left him. I kind of freaked out."
Hank folded his arms across his chest and suggested,
"Because you don't feel the same?"
My eyes went wide and I sat back onto the bed, running my fingers anxiously through my hair.
"Oh, god, no. I love him,"
I stared at the carpeting for a few silent moments, looking back at everything. Then I added as a realization struck my head like lightning,
"I never stopped loving him."
Hank moved in front of me and asked, confused and with more volume,
"So then what are you doing? What are you waiting for?"
My face flushed hot. The skin under my eyes grew tense as I felt tears begin to weld up behind them.
"I...I left him, Hank. I just deserted him. I don't know if it would be fair to him to just start again like I didn't shatter him to pieces."
Hank looked me in the eyes, and answered simply,
"Then just apologize. You can't force yourself to feel guilty forever."
And then something seemed to click on, like the fog that's been looming inside my head finally dissipated. I had forgotten clarity. I had forgotten light. And now it was plain to see that all this time I had been stumbling about in the dark and restlessly turning in the night because of one painful fact that had been true since the moment I was born.
I felt guilty to truly be myself.
That was the truth of it all. I felt shame for being different. I felt shame for being mutant.
I felt shame for leaving the only person to ever make me feel proud of who I was.
I suddenly stood up and reached my hand into my coat pocket. I pulled out a small glass bottle, with a few drops of yellow serum still swirling around the bottom. I handed it to Hank.
His brows furrowed in confusion,
"You're not using the anti-mutation serum anymore?"
I was already headed toward the door, and I answered him not looking back.
"No. I'm done feeling ashamed."
I was already out into the hall, uncontrollably running, my feet unflinching in their determination.
"Where are you going?" Hank called out after me.
The very tips of my fingers illuminated a soft pink.
"I'm going to Peter."