Muir Island was the last place she wanted to be right now; she craved the fire back at Warren's in New York and the way he wrapped his soft wings around her in the most loving embrace she'd ever felt. Pressing her arms tighter into herself, she wished those wings were around her now with the way his chin nestled into her neck. It was a comforting familiar touch, one that she rarely allowed herself these days with the errands that she had to run and the loose ends that needed attending to. How long had it been now? Three weeks, maybe four since they had seen each other last. A soft chuckle rose out of her throat. Errands? Hell, most people would call them missions at best, suicide attempts at worst, she thought to herself as she turned her attention outside.

Most people. She didn't know "most people" and yet the danger she put herself through regularly was almost primarily for their benefit. The faceless millions that had no idea the sacrifices she had made for so long, the terrors she had experienced for their sake. And now she was halfway around the world, away from her friends and her love for the faceless millions once again. Resentment boiled up within her once more as it did every few months as she thought about what she should be doing today. Relaxing around our house watching our babies play with their new toys from Santa. Even the thought closed her throat as the tears burned at her eyes, blurring the view of the blizzard outside.

It was a reoccurring bitterness that seemed to revisit her more and more often. Her biological clock seemed to chime with Big Ben intensity these days and yet she hadn't mentioned a word of her desire to Warren. She feared the day he asked her to marry him; she had witnessed firsthand the trauma that Scott and Jean had experienced. Maybe there were things in the world that she could never protect Warren from, but marriage seemed to be one of them and fatherhood as well. Even at the great price of her own happiness.
That was why these errands seemed to take longer these days, taking her away from her beloved, shielding him from the need that was tearing her apart inside.

Wiping away her tears with tender fingertips, Betsy dug into the pocket of her jeans for her cell phone and depressed the auto dialer. Clearing her throat quickly, she waited through the rings until the phone picked up.

"Hello?" A light female voice greeted on the line.

"Well, Miss Jubilee. I had no idea you'd be coming home for Christmas."

"Heya, Betsy! Where are you?"

"Muir. So, who showed up today?" Betsy closed her eyes as a fierce twinge of homesickness hit her right in the stomach.

"Oh god! Everybody, I've never seen the house so full! Everyone from the Academy came out and-- Hey Warren! I've got Betts on the phone!"

Clicking and muffled words came through the line, as the phone must have been exchanged on the other end. "Merry Christmas, honey." He was soft and subdued, yet warm as if he resented the distance and not the call.

"Hello love. I heard there's a mob of people there; sorry I missed it." She leaned her forehead on the chilly glass of the observatory window, closing her eyes to focus on Warren's voice.

"Yep, the rumors are true. I guess I don't need to say that I wish you were here too."

She willed the cheerfulness into her words, fighting to quell another bout of tears. "I wanted to be there, but I had things to do. You know that. There will be other Christmases."

A long pause before he responded. "I don't know. Every time you leave I wonder if it's the last time I'll ever see you again. It scares the shit out of me, Betts. You won't let me come with you; you wont let anyone come with you. Who's going to watch your back, honey? If you won't let me be there for you, can't you let someone else? Logan would be there in a second if you asked him, as would everyone."

"Warren, do we have to go into this right now?"

"Yes, I want to know. We're a team, but you won't let us be one."

Swallowing hard, she opened her eyes to stare out at the patches of blue between the swirls of white, the only pieces of visible Scottish sea. "Tell me again why we do this. I need to hear it again."

"What? I deserve an answer, Betsy. You owe me at least that much."

"Please?" Her request was a soft sob as the tears ran anew, blurring her view into a mottled field of white and blue.

"God, honey, what's wrong?" His only answer was the intermittent sobs over the grainy cellular connection. "Because it's right. We were given abilities and for some it's just the true thing to do. For others it's the absolution for the wrongs done before. We have to help the ones who cannot protect themselves."

She had heard those sentences from his lips so many times either directed towards others or to herself. Every time his logic rang true to her soul, replacing a little bit of what was lost. But, even now the replenishment she sought was not enough. Nothing ever seemed to be enough anymore. "Love, I'm sorry. I can't explain to you the reasons for what I have done. But, I am sorry."

"Please, don't cry. It's Christmas, honey -- don't cry." Warren tried to console her as best he could over the phone, his compassion coloring his voice. "I was just missing you so badly, Betts. I wanted you to be here this morning; I prayed that you would be. I thought that maybe you were planning a surprise and I would wake up in bed beside you. But, it's all right. Just come home when you're ready. I'll always be here."

"Okay." Betsy's chin trembled involuntarily as she wiped the tears away again with quick strokes of her fingertips. "I'll let you get back to everyone. Give them all my love, okay?"

"How about me? Do I get some too?" Warren joked over the static-filled line.

"Of course. I love you, Warren. I'll see you soon, I promise."

"All right then." Warren paused before continuing. "I love you, honey."

"Bye."

"Bye."

Betsy clicked the phone off and slid down the side of the window into a tucked crouch, pressing her tearstained cheeks into the knees of her jeans. The phone slipped from her fingers and skidded onto the metal floor. "I couldn't tell him, oh god how I wanted to," she whispered to herself, covering her head with her arms. How long would it really be until she saw him again, she had no idea. There were always things to do, people to check on, loose ends to tie up. Maybe it was better this way.

"After all we've done, I would've thought we deserved to be happy. To be normal." Lifting her head up, she stared at the transparent reflection in the observatory window that ran floor to ceiling. A beautiful violet-haired woman stared back at her with a strange red mark over her right eye. Her face was a mask of lonely despair, trickled with the steady fall of Christmas snow.