BACK HOME

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tingling when she awoke. Her vision was blurry, unfocused, white. A ceiling, it must be. She could not feel anything, besides the dull ache of her head.

"Good morning," a gentle voice from beside her brings her to complete consciousness, and she turns her head. Charles smiles at her softly. She blinks a few times, only now realizing how dry her eyes and mouth feel.

"How long have I been asleep for?" She croaks out, wondering what day it is and how everyone else is doing, after what happened back in Cairo. Peter had a broken leg, she remembered, and Raven wasn't doing too well, either.

"Just a day," he answers, keeping his voice low and soft. "I was worried."

"We're... in the school," Brianna notices, furrowing her eyebrows and ignoring his comment. The last time she saw the school, it was a pile of rubble, turned that way by an explosion. But, she is making no mistake, they are definitely back. "How— how are we in the school?"

"Erik and Jean did most of the repair work," Charles explains, not missing the way Brianna tenses up at the mention of the red haired girl.

"Right," she murmurs. "Jean." Charles glances at her sympathetically for a moment, before furrowing his eyebrows.

"Brianna, why didn't you ever tell me you were jealous of her?" Again, she tenses up, just for a second, but Charles still notices it. She frowns, feigning innocence that her father can see right through.

"What?" She says. "I'm- I'm not—"

"Brianna," Charles says, giving her a pointed look. She sighs, giving up. Nothing gets past him, so what's the point in trying to hide it any longer? The cat is out of the bag, so to speak. She suddenly becomes occupied with her hands, fiddling with her cold fingers and sighing softly. "Why didn't you tell me?" He asks agin.

"Because it was selfish," she answers honestly, still playing with her fingers. "It was stupid and selfish and ridiculous. She was just another student you were trying to help, but I took it the wrong way. I felt like you were replacing me." She pauses, releasing a breath she didn't know she was holding. Then, she lifts her gaze to Charles. "I'm sorry."

She tries her hardest to keep the tears at bay... why was she starting to cry in the first place? Everything is going to be okay now.

Charles smiles softly, eyes tinkling. "You don't have to apologize for how you feel. Especially not to me." She shrugs, resting her hand against the cool white bed sheets.

The door squeaks open a crack, and Brianna glances towards it as Hank pokes his head in. "It's almost time," he states. Unanswered questions form in Brianna's mind.

Charles nods once firmly, so Hank disappears and the door shuts again with a click. Bree looks to her father, expecting answers.

"Brianna, training starts today," he starts, "Hank designed suits for each student based on their mutation, to suit them for fighting. He made one for you too, it's in your room... I wasn't sure if you would want to start today, considering your state."

Brianna raises her eyebrows. "I feel fine. In fact, I'm going to go change right now." With that, she gets up out of bed, stretching her limbs as she walks to the door, opening it with a click and exiting the room.

She turns right, heading for her room, feeling ecstatic to be back home.

"Hey."

She nearly jumps out of her bones as a voice speaks from no where. She spins around, looking for the source, only to find Peter Maximoff standing against the wall, near the door she just emerged from.

"H-hi," she says nervously. She gives him a quick once over, rewinding a couple days prior to when he received his injury. He seems to be better now. "Peter, how are you?" She asks, flexing her fingers at her sides and offering the silver haired boy a soft smile.

"I'm just great," he replies, stepping closer to her, "Especially now that you're finally awake." Her eyebrows shoot up, wondering why he would say a thing like that.

"W-what?"

"Well, I know you the best out of everyone here," he elaborates, "it would have been nice to have a private tour or something."

She laughs quietly, not missing the way Peter's eyes twinkle and the corner of his mouth turns up. "Unfortunately, I'll have to take a rain check; it's time for training." She turns on her heel and begins to walk in the other direction, only to be followed closely by another pair of loud footsteps.

"What do you think you're doing, Peter?" asks Bree, cocking her head sideways and raising an eyebrow at the boy who is following her.

"I'm walking beside you," Peter replies, matter of factly, "Do you have a problem with that?" She laughs once again, finding the situation amusing.

"No, I don't have a problem with that," she answers, tugging at the hem of her shirt before beginning the ascend up the wooden stairs. "So, you're staying at the school, then?"

"Yep," Peter says, smiling. "And let me tell you something, it was a tough choice. You kids are lucky that I stayed. Now, you have the privilege of being graced with my presence every day."

"More like annoyed with your presence," she reiterates.

"Hey," he warns, though Brianna can tell he is offended. She smirks - something Peter has never seen her do - as they come to her door and she turns the handle, letting them both in.

Inside, Peter absorbs his surroundings, glancing around at everything in her room, from her bed to her dresser to the posters on her wall. Before he can look at much, though, Brianna presses her hand against his shoulder, earning a questioning look.

"I have to change!" She says, and a look of realization comes over Peter's face before he stumbles out of the room, caught slightly off guard.

Once dressed, Bree emerges from the room, with her hair pulled into a high ponytail and dressed head to toe in a silver and blue suit - oddly similar to Peter's. He gives her a once over and a look of appreciation, causing crimson to erupt across her cheeks. She smiles shyly at him before turning and starting the walk to the training room.

"Hey, I know a way we can get there faster," Peter says, and Brianna stops, turning to him expectantly, an eyebrow raised. She flushes even more as he sets a hand on the back of her head.

"W- what are you doing?" She stutters.

"I'm holding the back of your head so you don't get whiplash," he says casually, causing her eyes to widen.

"Wh—" she begins to protest, but in a flurry of movement, her and Peter are no longer in the hallway upstairs, but downstairs and outside the training room.

Peter draws his hand away, only to return it when Brianna begins to wobble, feeling her head spin. The fact that Peter is touching her isn't doing much to help, if she's being completely honest with herself.

"You good?" He asks, glancing wearily at her. She nods, blinking and balancing back and forth on her feet.

"Just dizzy," she mutters, before regaining her posture and glaring at him. "Please warn me the next time you do that." He grins, amused.

"Okie-dokie."