"We were looking for a woman named Lace." answered Jean, and it wasn't the answer Todd was looking for because it didn't serve much of a purpose. Just set him on edge.

"She ain't a woman." snapped Todd, and he shifted backwards ever so slightly, moving closer to the bed - and, for a brief moment, he asked himself how long ago it had been since he'd slept on one of those. On anything aside from the alley street or some guy's backseat, when he fell asleep before handing over the cash that Todd was owed.

He thought that it had been a very, very long time. Years, even, though he wasn't certain. Wasn't even sure how long he'd been out here in New York, anymore.

Just like he wasn't sure about Jean. Once upon a time, Todd had thought that the X-Men were the good guys. When a mutant was in trouble, they showed up in their fancy suits and their well-tuned cars, then they swept whoever was in need off to a life of ease. Gave them food and money and clothes. A warm bed and a medication. Provided an education. Helped control powers.

They were the good guys.

But hadn't they abandoned Todd and the others? The boys whose faces he could no longer remember, but whose names would forever be etched in his mind?

Yes. They had.

Pietro and Lance and Freddy. Wanda and himself. All of them - just left, to rot and die and why was Jean staring at him like that? Todd tilted his head slightly and narrowed his eyes, completely unaware that he'd been asked a question.

So he just watched Jean, until she eventually repeated herself.

"What do you mean she isn't a woman, Todd?" asked Jean. She didn't know why, but she felt like it was important to use his name as often as he could, this boy who seemed so lost and broken.

Oh. Didn't she know? Evidently not.

Without thinking, Todd let out another snort. This time, he couldn't keep the cough in, as the rush of air burnt his abused lungs. It was a loud, dry hack and Jean moved to take a step closer to him. Probably because she wanted to help, Todd knew, but he couldn't take that chance and inched back again. The underside of his knees bumped against the bed.

"I mean she ain't a woman, dumbass. Can't you fuckers get anything right?" he snarled. He was highly protective of Lace, just like most of the other street-workers were. Thought of her like, not family, because he had none of that, and not a friend, because he didn't have those either, but Todd cared for her more than he did other girls and that was something. Right?

Yes, he decided. It was something. A big something, because there was very little that he cared about these days.

Shifting on his feet, he waved one hand at a wall as he clarified himself. "Lace's fourteen. Not a woman."