"...What?" That was not at all Persi had expected. He had to scramble to focus on what she'd actually said instead of what he was afraid she'd say so he could respond to it. "But it's already healed." She did know what scars were, right? They were what happened after something healed. They couldn't be healed.

...And she saw. Persi was honestly surprised he didn't wince, but that was probably because he already had. At least she'd--

not figure it out. Persi mostly suppressed the urge to squirm. He really didn't want to explain. "That's not... what I meant...." Not that the difference between someone sort-of hurting him and sort-of someone hurting him was particularly clear, but.... Persi sighed and his shoulders dropped. He really didn't want to explain, but he couldn't think of any lie that was remotely believable. "It's my fault."

"No, it is not. Persi, none of this is your fault." He was trying to cover for whoever had hurt him. Just like he had before. Was it the same person? She pushed the thought from her mind and tightened her grip on his hand slightly. She was going to drag him to the doctor come hell or high water.

"How long ago did this happen?" She was certain he hadn't had then when she'd run into him last, but she had been away for quite a while. "Did you see a doctor?"

Okay, maybe she was panicking a little herself. The Greek tugged at him urgently, wanting him to follow her down the hall; her magazine forgotten on the floor.

"No, it is." Of course it was. Who else's fault could it be? Sure Persi was pretty inclined to blame Cafas, but he was pretty sure that it wasn't the surviving part that Andrea was talking about.

And apparently he wasn't going to be getting away. Persi hadn't actually been thinking about trying to just run away, but apparently Andrea was, since she wasn't letting go. "Um, five days? Maybe six?" It was something like that. Persi thought back and tried to count. "I think six. DocProf healed it." And then Persi had to go to the hospital for some reason he still wasn't entirely clear on, but he wasn't really clear on most of the time he'd been there either. Either way, he was healed.

As far as Persi knew, Andrea didn't do anything athletic, or have a strength mutation. If nothing else would ever prove that Persi was just not ever going to be athletic, the fact that she could still drag him around certainly should. He still resisted, since he couldn't quite convince himself to go willingly. "You dropped your magazine...."

"Good. He will have proper answers to the questions seek. I very much hope for your sake that whoever did this to you has already been dealt with." Emotions swept through her like a flash flood, leaving less and less room for her brain to process things properly. Persi was hesitant to follow, and after a few moments of tugging at him in an attempt to get him to follow, her shoulders slumped and she turned to look at him. She supposed that if he had already been to see the doctor, then there was little use bringing him back there. The good doctor wouldn't have left him in an unhealthy state. Still, she wanted answers and Persi himself had yet to give them to her.

If she had the capacity at the moment to stop and think about the situation, she may have realized that he had already told her.

Instead, she saw a victim before her. A boy who was quiet and kind, who had been dealt great harm. Wetness pricked at her eyes and instead of dragging him away she stepped closer and tried to wrap him in a tight hug. Fear swirled in her belly; uncertainly and nervousness clawed at her heart. She could only think of how painful the wounds she had suffered herself, and try to relate the experience to what Persi must surely have gone through. "... I.. I am sorry, but I simply cannot stand to see people I care about hurt. It wounds my heart."

Looking at him, he Greek chewed on her bottom lip and fought back a sniffle.

She... really wasn't getting this, was she?

Persi had gotten sort of used to talking about his suicide attempt to people. At least, he already had explained himself a few times. Well, sort of; not really explained much, but defended himself and talked about it. Regardless, all those conversations had been with someone who already knew what he'd done. He hadn't ever had to explain that part of it.

Now that he did... how? Especially to Andrea. She wasn't supposed to be upset. She was nice and happy and supposed to be happy. How was he supposed to tell her he hurt himself? He could hardly let her keep worrying, though. "No one... did anything to me." That would be clear enough, right?

...He'd thought that before. So he took a breath (and ended up hunching his shoulders, though that wasn't intentional) and stared at the floor, and managed to say "I did it."

That explained what he'd done, anyway, but it didn't explain why. Persi didn't like explaining why; he was always explaining to mutants, and no one liked being told they were going to Hell. But he especially didn't want to tell Andrea; she was too nice to upset. Of course, letting her just think it was because he was unhappy would probably upset her too....

And... if Andrea was too nice to upset, she was definitely too nice to let her go to Hell, too. It wasn't fair, that she would, but she was a mutant, so she had to... unless God forgave her, but he only did that if you proved yourself, and she didn't know to do that, did she?

Maybe that was why things hadn't been making sense. Persi hadn't been supposed to die; he hadn't ever been supposed to have a chance to go to Heaven. He was supposed to meet Andrea and tell her so that she could. "Because... that's the only way to get God to forgive us."

That should make sense, right? There wasn't a whole lot that Persi and Andrea had in common. She might not listen, immediately, but most people took a while to learn, so that was okay. So long as she remembered to think about it, it would work.

...And Persi could make sure of that, too, couldn't he? He'd wondered why he'd been cursed with such a useless mutation. Well, because it wasn't; it was the most useful thing possible for this. He glanced back up from the floor to look at Andrea, and willed what she was thinking of to stick. It had been a few seconds since he said it, but that shouldn't matter; he was still thinking about it after all. People only changed thoughts so fast.

The muscles in her face went slack for a moment as she stared at him, soaking it all in. He... he had done it to himself? He had hurt himself? such a thing was unspeakable. Dangerous, ignorant, selfish, and so.. so sad.

"Because... that's the only way to get God to forgive us."

The beginnings of horror crept onto her features, and she felt herself start to shake slightly. "... that's a lie." Her voice was weak, an echo of itself. "... who told you such a horrible lie?"

But... there it was. his words bounced around in her head, stuck on repeat, and upped the distress taking her over. "Persi, life is sacred... god would not give us such a beautiful thing just to demand that we... that we soil it!"

She wanted to hug the boy, grip his as hard as she could and not let go until he understood. But.. she didn't move. Her mind was a war field; come alive with her own beliefs and the horrible thing persi had said.

God would never have-- couldn't have-- wanted such a thing. She refused to believe it!

And now Persi wanted to kill himself again, but instead of because God wanted him to he just wanted to to make up for feeling really guilty for making Andrea unhappy. Or escape feeling guilty, or punish himself for it, or something. Maybe all of them. He went back to staring at the floor. "It's..." hard to speak. He had to swallow before he could. "It's only sacred if it's the way He wants it to be."

"...I'm sorry." He really, really was. That she was a mutant and that he'd upset her and that there was a little corner in the back of his mind that was trying to find God and demanding why? Why, why, why? This would have been so much easier if everyone in the Mansion had been jerks instead of people.

"No, Persi... It is sacred." She couldn't lift her gaze to meet his eyes.

"I am not this way because the lord hates me. I am this way because my mother broke a holy vow. She sinned, and I am the punishment." Her memories, pleasant and painful, were all the proof she'd ever needed. The way her parents had changed as she grew; her mother's ever growing guilt and her father's ever growing anger.

"Gods work can take many forms, and it is true that not all of them are pleasant... but I refuse to believe that he would demand such a thing of us. We mutants are not a blight on this earth, but a sign. We are the blood in the water, the snake in the tree; we are a warning of what happens when you do break his laws!"

Tears pricked at her eyes, and her small fists clenched. "I love god. I pray every day for everyone I know, even those who do not share my faith. I gladly wear this skin as a warning for others, if it will save just one of them from enduring the same sickness as me. Whoever told you such a heinous, evil thing... they are the reason we are like this."