Runaways: Book II

XXI

There's a moment, after all the pain subsides, of pure ecstasy. In the midst of the storm, of all the pain and the fear and the sadness, you forget what it's like to feel normal. But once the normality returns again (and it always does, I assure you) the things that seemed so trivial before suddenly flood your senses with such joy. Things like sleep or a kiss or a friend.
Or the light snoring of the boy that never stopped loving you, even when you stopped loving yourself.
I was watching Peter. He was doing absolutely nothing but breathing. And dreaming. And I was perfectly content there beside him, just resting in his arms and wondering what song was playing through the headphones he had accidentally left clamped over his ears before he fell asleep. I thought about sleep for myself, and I was in drastic need of it, but I wanted to savor everything. I wanted to savor him. Because goodness knows I've been going too long without.
But I felt my eyes grow heavy, and my mind wandering off to fantasy. And I was stuck in that space between the cool air of reality and the beautiful chaotic nature of dreams. That is, until the nerves on the back of my neck rose sharply.
I sat up, the bed sheets cascading down to collect in my lap. I could sense another energy form seeping up through the floor boards, different from Hank or Charles or Bo or Logan.
Someone was in the house.
The person was an ironic mixture of sadness and lust, all swirling together in a chaotic mass. Most of me wanted to stay there, in safety and drenched in Peter's warmth. But before I could decide, my feet had already dragged me from the bed and out into the corridor, softly moving down the carpeted staircase.
I saw golden light dancing along the far walls of the hallway and I could smell the smoke of the fireplace lingering. Whoever was in there was with Hank, and a passionate, loving energy was consuming him. I knew what provoked that energy in him, or rather who.
Raven.
I stopped there on the steps, and just stood. It could have been only a couple minutes. Or an hour. I wasn't sure. Time is never easy to estimate in the dead of night. But eventually I heard footsteps trampling down the hall, growing nearer, then stopping when the person realized I was residing at the top of the stairs.
Hank was now there, covered with thick blue fur and black hooked claws at the tips of his fingers.
"She was here, wasn't she?" I voiced softly in the darkness.
He nodded as he stared at the ground, "Yeah."
Hank looked up at me and his face contorted with curiosity, "Are you...glowing?"
"What?" I peered down at my hands and smiled a bit at the light still uncontrollably continuing to shine from them. I suppose they had never stopped. "Guess we've both had an eventful night," I added.
He took a seat beside me, "You can say that again."
I sighed, then asked hesitantly, half-heartedly knowing the answer, "Is she coming back?"
"No. She's still trying to kill Trask."
"Oh..."
"That's why Charles, Logan, and I are going to fire up Cerebral again."
My eyes went wide and I turned to him. His skin was in this odd transition between blue and peach, and he was shrinking down back to his normal size.
"You mean, the Professor—"
"You're not the only one who's decided to stop the suppressants."
I leaned forward and rested my arms on my knees, cupping the sides of my face in my hands,
"So, he's giving up his legs then, huh."
"For Raven, he'd give up anything."
I looked at the flowers swirling around in the carpet pattern.
"Hank, you know you deserve better than her, right?"
He shrugged his shoulders in a defeated sort of way,
"Maybe. But I didn't decide to love her. It just sort of happened."
"Yeah. I know."
Then the words stopped flowing and we had run out of things to say. We sat there, basking in the silence, utterly tired. Then I heard an awkward cough come from behind me.
Peter was standing there, his hands in his pajama pockets, "Hi. Nice moment you had there," He nodded a bit and gave a brief defensive, jealous glare to Hank before finishing, "with my girlfriend."
I laughed at bit at his protectiveness and rose to my feet, taking Peter's hands in mine and kissing his cheek lightly for reassurance.
"I was just making sure you were alright. I woke up and you weren't there and..." he drifted off, stopping as he noticed the fear building in his voice.
"I'm alright, Peter. I'm here. I'll meet you back upstairs in like two minutes."
He nodded looking back to Hank one final time and repeating while pointing to me, "My girlfriend."
I rolled my eyes with affection and told him giggling, "Go back to bed, you goofball."
Peter smirked and flashed away from us, casting a breeze as he left.
Hank chuckled to himself, "Peter's definitely something."
"Don't I know it." The lightheartedness in my voice died down as I stated, "Look, there's something I need to tell you."
"Hm?"
"Peter and I are going back home. Tomorrow."
His face went blank, and I felt is energy shift into a bit of sadness. I tried to explain,
"It's just, Peter has his mom and his sister to get back to. And we gotta get Bo back."
Hank put a hand on my shoulder.
"Hey. It's alright, I know." He gave me a quick pat on the back,"Doesn't mean I'm not gonna miss you a ton though."
I pulled him into a hug, letting his energy seep into my chest.
"Thank you. For everything, brother."
"Anything for you, sis." He broke away from the hug, wiped a smudge off the lenses of his glasses, and added with a smile, "Now please go upstairs before Peter shaves my eyebrows off while I'm sleeping or something."
I laughed, my cheeks growing sore with amusement, "Alright. Goodnight, Hank."
"Goodnight."
I made my way back up the stairs to the room, peeking through the crack in the door to see Peter had fallen back asleep, his arms skewed about the bed. I looked at him fondly and crept back beside him. He jostled a bit, still half-asleep, and instinctually wrapped his arms around me, his nose buried into the side of my neck.
I closed my eyes and heard him whisper moments later, "I bet the blue monkey guy can't even name one Zeppelin album."
I just smiled to myself, my eyes still shut, and murmured back before sailing off into a deep sleep, 
"You're a dork and I love you."