Brian made a mental note not to dabble. Though, he had a strong urge to tell Warren next time they met to 'shape up or ship out'. There had been times when they'd see each other multiple times a day, and either from fear of beheading or lack of interest, the winged man had hardly mentioned Betsy. And Brian had loads of stories he could've offered up, of both the complimentary and devious sorts. "I think you deserve to be happy," he flipped the phrase. "No one will ever be worthy, I'm afraid." And no one would understand her half as much as he did. But she'd find someone - whether it be Warren or not, and it might help to bring her out of her funk. As Brian had told her months earlier, though, he was working his long hours in order to right things so their lives could go back to normal, as well.
Saving the world was just a bonus.
When she snuggled up to him, he moved his left arm to rest around her and laid his right across his own chest, finally relaxing. He was still smiling from her sarcastic response when he recalled the last time they had been in their current position. It hadn't been too long after their arrival to Xavier's, following the death of their parents. She'd been sharing a room with another girl back then, and Brian hadn't been able to sleep. He came to her window and tapped (however obnoxiously, as adolescent boys were prone to be) and once let in, began to cry. After shared tears and a few hug-muffled words, the twins had sat and reminisced about their lives before and how much they missed their family. "Do you remember the last time we did this? We fell asleep and were late for class the next morning." Brian shifted his gaze down to Betsy, "I haven't cried that way since after we lost Hank."