This was the first time in a very long time that she felt defeated. It didn't matter that she was a successful science experiment, a girl trained to be a living weapon. Deep down somewhere she was still human, and that very small, very quiet part of her was tired. Tired of always running, always hunting, always fighting. She wanted a purpose in life besides trying to find one man. What was she supposed to do when she found him anyway? Was he going to make everything better? Was he going to help her have something of a normal life. At this point, X-23 had long accepted that normal was not in the cards for her.
She sat in her tower after the cops had gone, claws scraping over the flesh on her wrists. A sad pastime of her, she knew to cut deep if she wanted the chance to see her own blood. Shallow cuts did nothing since her skin healed itself too quickly. She'd screwed up again. Spilling blood, her blood, was the only acceptable penance. The boy she would have killed because he wanted to kill her. The girl, the girl whose name she wished she didn't know, should not have died. That was on her now. It was her fault. She'd messed things up and failed. Slice and splatter. Little drops of blood hit the floor in unusual patterns that disrupted layers of dust.
Getting up, the deep gashes on her arm healed and her claws retracted. She grabbed the chair she'd been using and threw it against the wall with a feral cry. It was so old that it splintered upon impact, but it wasn't enough. She needed to work off these feelings she didn't want. Grabbing one of the pieces of the chair, X-23 swung it like a baseball bat at anything she could find. When that act grew tiresome she jumped from the window, landing like a cat on the ground far below. It was at that moment she could hear a familiar voice.
Nathaniel. His scent was not anywhere, and that confused her. She looked around, noticing now that she was not alone outside. A man getting ready to leave for work had seen her jump from the tall belfry and stand as though she'd simply stepped down from a curb. He watched her now with a mixture of awe and fear. "Stop fucking staring!" she yelled. it had not been the first time the exclamation had passed her lips. With her head down, she began to run with no real direction.