"Migraine..." Jinny repeated along the way. "I don't like it." She went very still as she was carried, her face pressed against his chest to keep away the light. "I didn't mean to do it. I just wanted to move the weight." But sometimes lessons had to be learned, and pain was unfortunately an excellent teacher. "I hope I didn't break my powers." While her ability was not "broken", it would be a day or so before she could use it without pain. Once they were upstairs and settled in her room, she quickly grabbed her fluffy cat doll and pressed her face into it. "I don't think I need anything. I just want to nap." Truth be told, she was weary all over. It seemed her using her power too hard had a physical backlash along with the migraine. Jinny curled up in the bed, whispered "thank you, Uncle" and was already half asleep before Slade left. - Jinny dreamed. It was now something impossible. She was older, somehow, perhaps ten. A big kid. Her mother was there, showing her how to use her power in a careful way. In the backyard of their home, the two tossed a baseball back and forth with only their minds. Her father watched proudly, as his daughter and wife showed off. It was a happy, beautiful, now impossible scene. Jinny woke up and looked around, the last vestiges of warmth and joy slipping away with the memory. And she started to cry.