XXIII- "I Don't Like Killing."

For a week Indianna had been on bed rest. For a week Indianna had been trying to distract her thoughts from Rogue. For a week she had been succeeding.

"Go away, Greyson," Indianna groaned, bending over the toilet. "I don't want you seeing me puke."

"It's not the first time, sugar," Greyson said, holding Indianna's hair back. "It most probably won't be the last."

Indianna retched and threw up in the toilet for the second time that morning. It was an improvement from earlier in the week; she would have been sick triple the amount she had been already a few days ago.

Once she had finished puking and after washing her mouth out, she stumbled back into her room and collapsed on her bed. She wiped her sweaty forehead with the back of her hand and closed her eyes. "When is this going to end?" She asked quietly.

"Soon. Hopefully," Greyson said and Indianna scoffed.

"Helpful."

"Well, if you would let Doc examine you properly we might be able to find out-"

"No," Indianna said. "Not happening."