This story refers to and uses a few lines of dialogue from the second season episode ‘Hard Time’ – it might not make much sense unless you’ve seen that. Mutant X is copyright Tribune Entertainment. No copyright infringement intended, no profit made.

As slowly and carefully as I can, I turn to lie on my left side. It’s no good – several bruises all over my body angrily protest the folly of movement, and I discover there’s an especially nasty bruise on my left hip that just can’t take the pressure of my weight. Grunting, I ease myself onto my back again. That doesn’t stop the pain, but it’s the least uncomfortable position I’ve found so far.

I think about going to medical for that second shot of pain reliever I didn’t get after encountering Brennan there. Not much later, I concede that the thought of getting out of bed is just too strenuous. As far as I’m concerned, medical could just as well be on the other side of the moon right now. I decide I’m better off staying in bed and at least letting my body get some rest, even if I might not be able to sleep tonight.

Besides, I’m not up to facing anyone right now. I especially don’t want to run into Brennan again.

I doubt I could hide the pain I’m in from him this time, and I don’t want to see the guilt in his eyes. Well, I guess a shadow of it will be there every time he looks at me for some time to come, but we already did our little scene – he apologized and I told him it was okay – and I don’t want to go there again. Tomorrow, I’ll hopefully be able to convince everyone that I’m a little sore but otherwise all right, and we’ll pretend everything is fine.

I think we all want to forget as soon as possible that Brennan tried to kill me today. I know I do. I’m pretty sure I won’t be able to. Certainly not as long as my body keeps reminding me every few seconds, but even after the bruises and scrapes are healed the memory will no doubt linger in the back of my mind.

My stomach aches a little, like I have indigestion. I want to turn around and lie on it, or at least lie on my side and bring my knees close to my stomach to relieve the discomfort. I have to make do with putting my hand over it. I can’t even rub it because Brennan’s fists left several really ouchy bruises there. Come to think of it, his knees probably contributed some as well.

Shit, I don’t want to think about that! I wish I could just fall asleep so I won’t have to think at all. On the other hand, I don’t want to sleep because I’m afraid I’ll dream if I do.

Damned if you do, damned if you don’t…

It’s been a long time since we last hugged. Ever since Brennan dumped me – and yeah, I guess that’s what I call it if I’m being honest with myself – I’ve spent countless hours wishing I had those arms around me again. God knows how many different scenarios I’ve dreamed up just to get us to a point where it could happen – where it would happen. All sweet and loving, or perhaps urgent and needy… Ha!

It was weird, having Brennan’s arms around me again. On one hand, it felt really good, but on the other hand, my body seems to be one big bruise now, and as tender as his touch was this time, it still hurt. Couldn’t let him see that, though, could I? It would have made me look even more like a pathetic punching bag. Besides, I was trying to make him feel better, not worse. He needs to get over this, if we’re to work together as partners again – at the end of the day, that’s all that counts.

For all our sakes, at least one of us had better shake this off fast. Otherwise we might all end up dead next time we run into trouble. And since it’s not going to be me…

I wish I could appreciate the irony of finally getting what I’ve wanted for so long and not knowing if I want it anymore. The problem is, it’s not just the hug that’s bothering me. With Brennan’s arms around me, a part of me was happy and content, while another part couldn’t get away soon enough – not just from his touch, but from Brennan himself. He’s the one person in the world with the power to hurt me the most, and today…

And the biggest irony of all? It’s not his fault. The truth, as hard as it is to swallow, is that I did this.

I insisted on going into Hillview with Brennan, and didn’t relent even when he vehemently opposed the idea. As much as I wish the last few days hadn’t happened the way they did, I still think I was right – well, we were right. Adam was the one who refused to let Brennan go in alone, with no way of contacting us if something went wrong. I totally agreed with him then, and knowing what I know now, I still think it would have been too risky.

Besides, I thought I knew what I was getting myself into; was confident in my own abilities. God, I’m an idiot!

I can’t help thinking that if I’d really listened to Brennan, if I’d put my mind into keeping a low profile and not getting into trouble, none of this would have happened. McMullen wouldn’t have picked a fight with me, Brennan wouldn’t have stepped in to save my butt, he wouldn’t have been noticed by the warden, wouldn’t have ended up a pawn in their sick game…

Hindsight really is 20/20.

At least Brennan didn’t get seriously injured, or kill anyone. At the time, I was just worried about McMullen killing Brennan if they faced off in the ring, but looking back on it, I think things might have turned the other way around. McMullen is scum, and I wouldn’t shed any tears over his death – lord, it felt good to use my powers and punch his lights out – but despite his tough guy act and occasionally hot head, Brennan is not a killer. I wouldn’t want him to have to live with that guilt.

Can’t help wondering about the things he said to me, though. I totally blame the “You’re dead, Jesse!” on the drug messing with his head, but the other things he said… The drug-induced aggression might have loosened his tongue, but surely it couldn’t have put the thoughts into his head? Maybe he does see me as a liability, a suburban guy who’s not really equipped to handle himself on the tough city streets. Perhaps he sees me as a responsibility, and, deep down inside, hates me for that?

I had to ask him about it, in a roundabout way meant to cover me from embarrassment. Of course he claims he doesn’t remember much. I realize now that I handed him deniability on a plate. I can’t decide whether to believe him or not. It’s possible Brennan’s telling the truth, I guess, but I can also understand why he might lie to avoid having to talk about it – forget that, he would definitely lie to slip that little heart-to-heart. He must know it could end up with us not being able to work together anymore. I do have my pride.

Brennan’s digs at me about my background, my family’s social status, and my sheltered life before Mutant X – they’ve always got to me more than I let on. I’ve put up with them, because I figured they are his way of trying to compensate for his lack of the same. What else could bragging about his former, shady lifestyle be than an attempt to hide the fact that he’s ashamed of his past? But what if he does find me ridiculously naïve, but doesn’t want to tell me that outright because he knows it would hurt my feelings? Does he realize I still have feelings for him and think I’m pathetic; perhaps even resent me for that? – except that the new, white-hat version of him isn’t allowed to feel that way.

God, this is not making me feel any better! I think my stomach and head are both equally upset. A headache’s pretty much all I need now to get to the point where I couldn’t possibly feel any worse. I have to move – guess I’ll try turning to my right side. Ouch!

Come to think of it, Brennan was acting all uptight even before he got amped up. Ever since we started talking about going undercover, he was all bossy and ‘do as I say, I know best.’ Not that it’s anything new lately, but this time he was continuously nagging at me as well. Hell, he could’ve given my mother a run for her money. Okay, he did just apologize for his ‘attitude,’ but still… It was unusual behavior for him. It’s as if Denny‘s death pushed Brennan off balance somehow. Or maybe it was going back inside – I bet he thought he’d never have to worry about ending up in jail again after he joined us.

Brennan’s never told me anything about being in prison. I’ve known since the beginning that he’d done some time, and that it happened several years before our paths crossed, but that’s pretty much it. When Brennan and Emma joined Mutant X, Adam made a point of ordering me to keep my nose out of my team mates’ past lives, and I’ve obeyed him. There’s a thing or two about my life before Adam recruited me I’d rather nobody but Adam knew about, so I understand about not talking about certain details. It’s not like Brennan’s ever been big on sharing, anyway.

Ugh, my mouth is all dry and furry, I need a drink of water. Wouldn’t it be nice if I’d had the foresight of placing a glass of water on the nightstand before coming to bed!

I spend some time trying to convince myself that my thirst is of the passing variety. Finally, I give up and slowly shuffle out of bed. Halfway across the room, my left leg suddenly gives out from under me when I try to put my weigh on it. As luck would have it, I wobble for a few agonizing seconds but manage to regain my balance. I feel like swearing a blue streak. The leg worked fine just an hour or so ago. If this is a sign of things to come, I’d like to just skip over tomorrow.

Getting to the bathroom, I decide it’s best to turn on the lights. After the darkness of my room, the piercing brightness hurts my eyes. When I’m able to see again I almost wish I couldn’t. The image looking back at me from the mirror is… well, ‘pitiful’ is probably the only word that fits. The black eye Denny gave me shows signs of turning purple and yellow, and the bruises on my face haven’t gotten any prettier since I last saw them, either. I look lower and notice that my neck is now starting to show bruising, too.

I frown at the mirror and turn on the tap. Studiously keeping my gaze away from the mirror, I get my glass, let it fill and drink. Swallowing makes my throat throb painfully. Suddenly I can feel the ghost touch of Brennan’s strangling hands circling my neck. I shudder and almost drop the glass. Feeling stupid, I put the glass on the counter, turn off the tap, close the toilet seat cover and sit down. On a day like this, falling and hitting my head against the bathtub is probably in the cards, too.

Today’s – or yesterday’s, as it’s way past midnight already – fight was the hardest I’ve ever fought. The last thing I wanted was to hurt Brennan, so I figured I’d try to duck out of his way or block his attacks as much as possible. At the same time I knew I had to make it look like I was at least trying to fight back. I really didn’t want the guards to figure out too soon that this time things were not gonna go according to their plan.

And Brennan – he really, really couldn’t wait to rip me into pieces.

In the beginning, I expected a little circling, a couple of feints, so the swift and vicious kick in the face was a nasty surprise that got me off balance in more ways than one. After that, I managed to duck his swings for a little while, but then Brennan got a grip of me and surprised me again by using electricity. Before I could get either my wits or my spasming muscles working again, I was down on the floor seeing stars.

Luckily for me, Brennan opted for showing off rather than killing me straight away. Once I recovered enough to pay attention to what was going on around me, I was bewildered to see Brennan with his arms up, flaunting his electricity for all to see. His show was making some of the spectators wild with excitement, while others simply stared or pointed their fingers at him. The shouts of “get him!” from people urging Brennan to attack me reminded me of stuff I’ve seen on TV – dogfights, fighting cocks, you name it. That’s what we were to those people – two animals ripping each other to pieces for their amusement – and Brennan didn’t have a clue. It all made me feel sick.

It also made me mad. I got back on my feet and charged Brennan from behind. Pushing him against the wire fence, I got in a few good punches to his kidneys, hoping that would slow him down a little. He was so amped up, I’m not sure he even felt them much. My attack made him madder, though. In no time at all, I was hugging the floor again, wondering if my ribs could possibly not be broken.

This time Brennan didn’t go for a breather. Instead, he kept urging me to get up – he could hardly wait to get on with beating the bejeezus out of me. I stalled and stayed on my hands and knees, not even trying to get back on my feet. I badly needed time to recover physically, but I also desperately needed time to think – it was clear I was in deep shit and needed to come up with a way to survive this encounter.

While I was down, Brennan tried to goad me into massing out – I still don’t understand why. Did he want to prove to himself that he could take me down even if I used my powers? I was tempted, almost did it – there’s only so much even I can take – but luckily I regained my senses quickly. It was enough that one of us had exposed himself as a ‘freak’.

That thought cleared my head enough for me to be able to concentrate on what I needed to do, and the first part of it was getting the antidote from Adam and Shalimar. Of course, as soon as I got it into my hands I dropped it when Brennan electrically charged the entire fence surrounding the ring and sent me flying. For a while there, I was sure the injector must have been broken. Didn’t have time to worry about that for long, though, as Brennan was all over me again. I had to resort to biting his leg to get Brennan to release his hold on my arm. That bought me only a very short respite, and next thing I knew, I was a rag doll in a killer dog’s teeth.

Finally, Brennan threw me against the fence, and when I went down this time, I landed near the injector, which, wonder of wonders, seemed intact. Somehow I managed to sort out my befuddled brain and uncooperative fingers enough to grab it off the floor before Brennan hauled me up again.

It’s quite a shock to realize that someone you consider a part of your family, a person you’ve long since learned to trust to watch your back, could be turned into a psychotic half-stranger who knows you well enough to know all your tricks but who would still kill you in cold blood. I didn’t – couldn’t – believe it until Brennan had his hands around my neck. That was the first time I really looked him in the eye during the fight. That’s when I had to admit to myself that Brennan had every intention of killing me.

I’d all but forgotten about the injector in my hand when Brennan started choking me. At the last possible moment, I got my brain in gear again and managed to inject Brennan with the antidote. Lucky me, Adam’s latest wonder worked fast. A few seconds longer, and Brennan would have fried my heart.

Instead, Brennan went down like a felled tree, bringing our fight to a dramatic and – for most of our spectators – unexpected end. He couldn’t have been unconscious for much more than a minute, but it was long enough for me to start to worry. I knew Adam had come up with the antidote in a hurry, and he might not have had time to consider all the possible side effects. Fortunately, Brennan came to complaining of nothing but a headache. Adam’s cocktail must have packed quite a whammy, though, as it left Brennan weak and disoriented. After the wringer he’d put me through, it was I who half-carried him out of the ring.

All’s well that ends well, right? Except that I feel like crap, and I don’t just mean physically. I keep thinking I should have been able to do… something. I’ll be damned if I can figure out what, but… I should have found a way to take charge of the events instead of letting everyone push me around like a wimp. Using my head would have been a good idea, I’m sure.

I can’t help thinking that if our roles had been reversed in the ring, Brennan – like any sane person, really – would have gone with his self-preservation instinct and done anything at all to stop me. Me, I stuck the injector needle in him and prayed. If that hadn’t worked? I’d be dead now.

Yeah, I guess I can’t hide from the hard truth anymore. My instinct for self-preservation is sorely lacking. When it comes down to it, I could never seriously harm Brennan. Not even to save myself.

I wonder what that makes me. Other than a pathetic fool.