Part Thirteen

"Good morning, Jubilee."

Dizziness washed over the girl as she snapped her head to the right to find Katherine Pryde lounging on Logan's battered couch, a teasing smile playing on her lips. Jubilation knew she should be apologizing for all the times she had been angry at the older girl for no reason; for all the times they had fought and squabbled, but she couldn't find it in her. Only the words, "Look what the cat dragged in," emitted, low and strangled, from her cracked lips, and somehow, she held Kitty's gaze until the other girl broke it off.

"Actually, I came to bring you breakfast," the brunette said softly, looking down at a tray she had set on the floor when she had phased up. "Coffee and toast. I figured you liked your brew doctored, so I made it blonde and sweet, with a touch of vanilla. Logan's is black." Picking up the tray, she stood and crossed the small room to set it on the bedside stand, clearing the dishes from the night before as she did.

Again, the apologies struggled to be put to words, but pride kept them at bay. "Why?" was all the small girl could muster.

Hazel eyes clouded with sadness, she shrugged, looking away. "Because it's apparent I won't get to share coffee with him; there's no reason you shouldn't." Thoughtfully, she picked up the Bamf doll that Illyana had given the small girl and examined it closely before laying it back down on the pillow, saying wistfully, "They always did like you more." With that, dirty dishes in hand, she sank into the carpet like a beautiful early-morning phantom.

Closing her eyes and feeling her heart throb in pain for the older girl, Jubilee drooped back onto the sheets, which now had a musty smell to them that had nothing to do with the fact that they adorned Logan's bed, but rather that a very ill girl had slept in them for the past week, and she curled into a tight, fetal ball, ignoring the pain that this created. All this time. All she had wanted to do was die, and now all she *was* doing was taking. Taking precious time that Wolvie could be spending with Kitty. Precious time that Hank could be spending to work on the Legacy Virus cure. Precious time that the other members could be using to go out and have fun, especially in these last waning days of summer.

Voices could be heard outside the door, and it burst open to reveal a flushed, furious Hank, followed closely by a very concerned and chastised-looking Wolvie. She barely looked up at their entrance, only hated herself further as the blue physician turned to her mentor and scolded, "You are lucky, Logan, that this child is not in worse condition than this. It only takes a few moments to commit suicide, especially when one has been planning to do so for some time."

Logan ignored him, rushing to her side. "Darlin', are ya all right?" She didn't answer, and the scent of coffee and toast filled his senses, bewildering him a moment until he spotted the tray on the night stand.

"Where'd this come from, J?" he asked, though he really didn't need to; his other surrogate daughter's scent filled the room as if she were standing before him.

"Kitty," the girl replied tearfully, squeezing her lifeless blue eyes shut as a tear trailed down her cheek to drip into her ear.

"Kitty...God, Hank, I promised her I'd have coffee with her." Weary hands reached up to scrub a face lined with ancient creases, and he wondered just what to do.

"It would seem that Jubilation is in dire need of your attentions at this moment," the doctor responded. "And it would do her well to take a lengthy promenade through the grounds of this affluent establishment, especially since it would appear that precipitation will fall before the sun's meridian."

"English?"

Hank sighed. "Jubilee needs you now. Take her for a walk before it rains. Kitty is a strong girl; mentally sound. She can live without you for a few hours. I shall talk to her, if you like. And once the rain has begun, you may go to her and leave Jubilee in the fine care of one of her other former teammates. Shall I go get the wheelchair?"

Logan hesitated, hating to have to decide between his two girls. A promise was a promise, and he never went back on his word, especially to Kitty. But from the bed, there came the soft, moaning wail, "I just want to die."

(Written by Dana Night)