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Twyla was too jarred to sleep again anytime soon but with thoughts about the house she felt tired and achy and older than she should have. "I can't believe...well, actually I can believe I went there. I'm so sorry, Maya. I had no idea what was there...but still, you and Em could have--it's all my fault." Her voice which she had been so glad to have under control was now choked with the guilt of leading her friends into such a terrible place. "And you will have bad dreams and it's all because of me and my stupid decisions..." Hands gripped the camo comforter and the blond bit her lip and swallowed hard.

The hands relaxed and one of them was held inside of another one. Maya's tone was quiet when she asked her which bits she was afraid of. Twyla took a deep breath and stared at their entwined hands resting on the top of the bed. "It's the part that makes me feel helpless. In nightmares you're helpless. I don't like being that person in real life and when I'm sleeping too."

Maybe she'd said too much? Probably, since she'd used 'nightmares' as in plural. If she was lucky that wouldn't be caught on to.

"I just don't want to be that person, you know?" She looked up from their hands and into the other girl's face, her features hesitant with something hard and determined in the back of her eyes.

Emerald sounded hesitant when she started answering her question. All fridge searching was forgotten--this was an interesting side of the wolf girl. Twyla quietly closed the fridge and walked to the counter near where Em was standing, leaning her back against it, arms crossed slightly in front of her in a motion that was more hug than defiant.

The girl nodded to all three of the wolf girl's question--she had about summed it up. I'm supposed to be better than that. Emerald's next words threw Twyla for a loop. Emmy thought that Twyla's panicking was a sign of strength? What? They were both silent for a long moment and the blond used that time to think things over. Her lip biting was a sign she was doing such. Maybe it's not all about being scared or not scared...it's about what you do with that fear? I haven't done much good in the fear department...but I could, right? Maybe?

She still hadn't come to a conclusion when Emerald began to speak again. Twyla went from inside her head to focusing on the other girl in an instant. It was interesting and more than a little jarring for Em to be candidly explaining her own issues with fear and nightmares. It was a good kind of jarring though, right? Twyla didn't have the wolf girl pegged as someone who did this often with people, so she made sure to listen carefully to what was being said to her. After a smirk her face went to a darker place and without thinking about it, the blond frowned like she had when Em had talked about Ruby.

That frown soon found itself replaced by a hesitantly, ghostly smile as Emerald told her how some people at the Mansion were helping her trust. The smile became a bit more fleshed out and then she was bridging the gap between them, intent on giving Emerald a hug. "That's good, Em. I'm so glad. That's so good." She squeezed her once, feeling the scars of her back in the process, and then stepped back with a more serious look on her face. Earlier she'd been given some food for thought and now it was finally done being prepared inside her mind. "I think that maybe being afraid of something is a good thing--you just have to have enough of it. Like, I have too much sometimes and you try to suppress yours...What if it's about balance? Acknowledging your fear enough so that it motivates you but not so much that it inhibits you or so little that you lose some of your human qualities..." She blinked slowly, like an owl, wondering if what she was saying was making any sense.

He wasn't loud in the elevator. In fact, his tone seemed normal and conversational and if Twyla hadn't totally just yelled at him in a hall full of students she'd have been able to relax into their random elevator chatting. Sadly, that was not how the world worked and 'consequences' were brought into the equation, furthering the girl's belief that they were going to his--

Danger Room? What? She blinked for a moment as she took in the familiar blank walls. The man waved her in and she followed him, the doors closing with a woosh behind her. Guts? Twyla thought not, she was just really good at convincing herself to do things like go to a park where a giant monster was, take a trip alone to a supposedly haunted house, and, most recently, verbally accost a teacher at random. The girl really wanted to tell him that she was more of the passing out type than the gutsy type, but every time she'd tried to argue her lesser merits she'd never won and if he liked guts, why not fake them for a little while? He'd figured her out in no time.

Mitts? Twyla had time to think before a pair of blue ones were tossed at her. Without thinking hands shot out to catch them and when they were grasped in her hands her wrists gave out under the weight she hadn't been expecting. The one gripped by the edge in her right hand was lifted experimentally. Six pounds, maybe? More? More than four at least... She estimated before looking at the mitts doubtfully. When she looked back up the teacher was shoeless and shirtless. That was what, five guys at the Mansion now that she'd seen sans shirt? Did she have something tattooed on her forehead or something? First...er, Gawain (his cut arm bloodied up the shirt), then Carrick (totally legitimate--he was a shifter), Locke (when she met him he was already shirtless), Calley (totally illegitimate since he was totally naked after they...kissed) and now the self defense teacher.

Her eyes darted quickly from the bare skin to his face as the man spoke again--she had to know his name, Gawain had mentioned it at some point after she asked him about his eye situation. It started with an s...probably. And it was short...maybe. It didn't matter because what she'd just been told to do almost made the girl drop the painted mitts. Hit him? Seriously? Twyla had no doubt in her mind that most anything that came from her decently wimpy arms was going to do no damage but the idea of just walking up to someone and hitting them was just so...not right.

And then he played the girl/boyfriend card. Ouch. That hurt.

'Objections?' Oh the girl had plenty of those but she put her hands in the gloves anyway and swung them at her sides, testing how different it felt to move her arms. Brown eyes looked away from the guy with the short s name and stared off in a random direction as their owner thought things through and worried her lip. I don't like this, not one bit. How am I supposed to just hit someone? That's just...I'm so not...but Gawain. There was some more intense lip biting as the girl tensed up all over. How many times are my stupid mistakes going to get him into trouble?

And with that, Twyla walked up to Sam quickly (she finally remembered his name) and attempted to deck him in the middle of the chest with her right arm. The movement was slow because of the weight of the glove but it was vaguely familiar as she'd used similar moves on her older brother when he was being particularly annoying--they were guilt free because even her hardest and most meaningful hits had always seemed not to phase Nate.

Twyla didn't argue with Emerald when she told her not to beat herself up about Christmas Eve--she'd learned it was easier not to argue. Maybe she'd feel differently later, but until the girl could prove that she had the ability to make decisions that weren't totally stupid she was probably going to dwell on all the dumb stuff she'd done that had put her friends in jeopardy.

Emerald proceeded to tell Twyla what she had been doing Christmas Eve. Disappearances? Lead? What? What kind of life was Emmy living when she wasn't at the Mansion? There was strong emotion in the other girl's voice as she spoke but it didn't register with the blond. She was still stuck on the fact that Emerald was apparently prowling the streets that night doing something that local authorities or the X-men should have been dealing with. Had she been working with the X-men? It seemed like the wolf girl was on a roll, so she'd wait to ask that little question for a better chance.

Twyla paused in her fridge digging when something was said about Em's little sister, Ruby. That's so sad. She bit her lip in worry and then frowned at the leftovers and healthy snacks and pushed them aside to search for her object of desire once more. The fox girl was just so...cute and innocent; it was not a good image, thinking about her crying. At the mention of weakness blond and pink hair whipped around at Twyla stuck her head out from behind the fridge door. "It is weak though, isn't it?" Brown eyes stared intently at the other girl who was looking down, waiting for her response.

Twyla felt like a little kid (which was weird, she was older than Maya) when she was told it was time for sleep. Well, more like commanded to sleep. So the girl scooted and wiggled and maneuvered and managed to make it under the covers that Maya pulled up for them.

The girl supposed she could deal with being bossed around if it meant she'd get to be held close to her girlfriend. (Now that was a really weird thought for Twyla.) It really wasn't so unbearable pressing herself close to the other girl's warmth. Come to think of it, now that she was laying down and all comfortable...she might actually be tired. Scratch that, really tired.

But what about nightmares?

Maybe they'd be kept at bay if she wasn't alone? In any case, Maya had told her before she turned out the light that she wouldn't let anything bad get her--that held power in dreams, right? probably. As her world shrunk to a dark, warm, blanket and arm covered tent, Twyla mumbled: "There are ladies who wouldn't mind being hags I'm sure...I think I'd choose to be a h--" She didn't finish her thought or explain herself. After a long night Twyla Ashby was out like the lamp near her bedside.

It seemed she could finally get her bedtime story. As Maya began to talk, the blond worked herself into a comfortable position with her head propped up on her hand so she could watch the storyteller's face. She smiled when the other girl wrinkled her nose as if trying to remember something elusive. It was an endearing gesture--although at that point anything Maya did would probably be considered endearing, Twyla was a bit biased after all.

She smiled again as soon as King Arthur was mentioned--it figured that Maya's mother would tell her child stories that related to namesakes. Twyla's ears perked up, she only knew the one Arthur-esque story (involving Sir Gawain and a certain Green Knight) and that was because of an English class. Everything else she 'knew' was taken from movies--'The Sword in the Stone' particularly since it was Nate's favorite movie when they were little (she was pretty sure that what Maya was talking about had nothing to do with Merlin or talking owls or anything like that).

Twyla listened intently, her mouth quirked up at the edges during certain parts and there were a few times that she resisted the urge to giggle at Maya's retelling. At the word 'kiss' her free hand that was not supporting her cranium touched her lips without her thinking about it. They were swollen. She did not however get a chance to think on it much as the story got another twist in it--her thoughts were now on what she would have chosen had she been in Sir Gawain's place. Hmmm...I'm gonna go with hag by day, for sure.

The ending probably should have been obvious--but Twyla was pleasantly surprised anyway that the hag-who-was-also-a-princess got a say in the matter. "I like that story." The blond rolled from her side to her back and looked up at the dark ceiling for a moment. "So what if she had wanted to stay a hag--would Sir Gawain have felt gypped do you think?" Maybe she was thinking into it too much, but it had occurred to Twyla so she figured she might as well get Maya's opinion, being so tired-but-not was making her brain filter a little thin.