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Meg is bored.

And still contagious.

And bored.

And covered in calamine lotion, which only does so much for the itching and clashes rather dreadfully with her hair.

And bored.

She eyes her pile of books without anything that could be called enthusiasm, turning the three bracelets on her wrist around, idly.

And then stops, as her fingers find the one link on bracelet from Laura that is heavier than the others.

She hesitates for a moment and then taps the communicator on her wrist that she's never needed to use in the more than two years she's worn it every day.

"Laura? Are you there?"

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"Not too long.

"Once all the little spots crust over I won't be contagious any more, and if I were at home, I could go back to school and all, but here I'll have to wait till they're gone, because I can't go home and have half a case of chickenpox.

"Probably another week or week and a half."

"You will be very bored," X says, after a cautious pause.

"You can knit? While you are -- "

She has to stop for a second, thinking about the right word.

" -- itchy."

Meg nods. "I can, yes.

"And Edward brought me books and music.

"And fortunately, I have a lot of friends who I can't make sick, so I can have visitors."

"That is useful," X agrees, very seriously.

Friends help with many things!

Then her slightly dubious look returns.

"Edward brought you music that you like?"

X is picky, okay?

Well. She is now that she has learned to be.

Meg nods. "He brought what I asked for, yes."

Meg is picky, too.

Especially when she's sick.

"Okay," X allows, after a moment of thought.

"Good."

She very carefully does not fidget, just watches Meg.

"There are things you want me to bring you, too?"

"No, but if you don't mind dropping notes off with Bar for me when you go, I'd appreciate it.

"So that Parker and Castiel and Kim will know what's happening."

"I will not forget," X says.

This is a promise.

"You will ask them to visit you, too?"

She's curious.

"Or tell them not to worry."

"Both, probably," Meg says.

"Assuming they're immune to chickenpox, too.

"Otherwise I'll see them once I'm better."

"Oh."

X considers that point for a second.

Or ten.

"I do not think it will be problematic for Castiel."

Probably.

"I do not know about Parker. Or Kim."

Meg nods.

"Well, just in case," she says.

She really would hate to pass it along to anyone she liked.

(Well, Meg being Meg, she'd hate to pass it along to anyone at all. But especially someone she liked.)

"How have you been, Laura?"

"I have been okay," X says.

"It has been busy. Here. With repairs. And new people."

Beat.

"But there have not been many fights."

"That's good," Meg says. "The not having fights part, I mean.

"How are things at home?"

"Baseball season will start again. Soon. Tomas wants to start practicing now."

X does not fidget.

At all.

"He also wants to be an X-man. Like me."

"Oh, I see," Meg says.

"Well, I guess that makes a kind of sense. His wanting to, I mean. If I'd met you when when I was Tomas's age, I'd probably have wanted to be like you when I grew up, too."

X looks startled, eyes going wide.

The look lingers for a second. Then two.

Then --

"He tried to run away from home. In a mask. To reach Greymalkin Industries."

Beat.

"Inez made me talk to him. When I found him."

"Oh, dear," Meg says.

That's probably also understandable, if not exactly advisable.

"What did you tell him?"

"That he does not know if he is a mutant, yet. And if he is not, he can be an Avenger. Or in SHIELD. But he will have to be older. And he would not be able to play baseball."

X shrugs, one-shouldered and quick.

"His mother said he was grounded. Except for practicing baseball. With me."

Beat.

"He did not have much of a tantrum."

For what that is worth.

"Not much of a tantrum is better than much of one, I suppose," Meg says.

A second, and then she adds curiously, "Is there any chance he is a mutant?"

"There is not a history of it. In his family."

X frowns a little, thinking.

"I asked."

Beat.

"But that does not make it impossible."

"What about the situation with Hope? You said she was the first born after someone decided there shouldn't be mutants. Would that have any impact? Would that make it impossible for him to be one?"

"I -- "

X hesitates, gave dropping to the floor.

She shakes her head. Once.

Then she looks back up.

"No. It -- some people are awakening. As mutants. Now."

Beat.

"Teenagers. It is -- they are afraid."

Meg nods.

"I would imagine it could be a fairly frightening thing."

Honestly, being a non-mutant teenager was occasionally fairly frightening.

"I do not know."

Beat.

"I was seven."

She shrugs again, but this time she does not look away.

"Hope helps them. They tell her that she is the only one that can."

"Who tells her? The frightened teenagers? Or . . . some other 'they'?"