Fallen Angels
V1, Issue 6
"Answers from the Heart"
Written by Beaubier and Sue Penkivech
Edited by Taekwondodo
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Four days now.
It had been four days since Bobby had conquered his microsentinel infection.
And every goddamn time Jean-Paul had been to visit, she had been there. Of course, he didn't stay long. Moved quickly to visit his unresponsive sister. To twist the knife he already felt in his heart, the knife that seeing Kitty Pryde with Bobby had been hammering home with a fucking sledge hammer for the past few days.
At least, that's what it felt like. Jean-Paul was aware that he was being mildly dramatic about it, of course. But at least it was only in his head. He certainly wasn't going to let anyone see those feelings, least of all her. Or, for that matter, Kurt Wagner. Who he had been meaning to have a talk with... but hadn't gotten around to cornering.
Surprisingly, he was just feeling too... tired for confrontation.
Sighing silently, Jean-Paul came in from the garage with bags in hands, and made his way to the living room, where all the residents of the house were sitting. Aside from Bobby, who was in hospital, and Kitty, who was at his side. Most likely.
Before he could get irritated again, Jean-Paul busied himself throwing the boxes he'd purchased at each of them. He'd given Bobby and Kitty theirs at the hospital, earlier. He passed them out without a word of greeting, despite the fact that Paige had looked up and given him a bright "Hi, JP!" and Kurt had waved, smiling heroically. One for Kurt, one for Paige, one for Jubilee, one for Jonothan.
He wasn't really in the mood for small talk.
"What's this?" Kurt was turning the box over with strangely agile three-fingered hands.
"What's it look like?" Jean-Paul intoned, sarcastically. "These are your phones. Unlimited nights and weekends, and constantly free for us to call one another. I'm tired of my phone coming up missing."
"Awww, come on JP, it was only the one time--," Jubilee started to protest, with that insufferable grin on her face that said she wasn't sorry at all.
"Twice," he reminded her, shortly. "Don't forget, you had it yesterday."
She rolled her eyes and started digging into the package.
Paige was opening her box as well, and had her eyebrows raised, "Awful... nice of you, Jean-Paul."
"Don't say that," Jubilee snorted, tearing at the box now, "He'll take them back."
Jean-Paul considered rushing the girl and taking the box out of her hands, just to spite her. Half as a joke, half because he was just really fucking irritated all the time lately. But decided against expending that much effort, and simply leaned against the wall instead, watching them all open their boxes.
"Fantastiche!" Kurt already had his phone out and was flipping through the booklet it came with. "Angel Phones!"
Jean-Paul groaned inwardly at the horrible joke, and started to walk away, deciding that he could really stand no more human interaction today. The entire species was simply letting him down right and left: Bobby, although that was his own damn fault, Jeanne-Marie, although that might've been partially his as well, And now Kurt and his bad jokes. Brilliant.
But he stopped when he heard Jono say, "Guess I'm in for good then?"
"Of course you are, you idiot," Jubilee was laughing at him, batting him playfully on the arm when Jean-Paul turned to look back at the sad-eyed boy on the couch next to her.
"You didn't think we'd send you back to the X-Men?" Jean-Paul asked, with a disdainful snort.
Jono looked up at him now, and raised one eyebrow. "Yeah... actually, I did. Not that I would've gone, but..."
Jean-Paul rolled his eyes and began to walk away as Kurt started reassuring the young man that he was more than welcome with them, and they wanted nothing more than to have him around.
The truth of it was, Jean-Paul didn't give a fuck if Jono stayed or went. But he certainly wouldn't have asked him to leave. Not after they'd all left the organization, all for their own reasons. Whatever Jono had been through, it was obviously more than enough to make him dislike the X-Men. The boy hadn't said much in the past few days-- he'd mostly slept through them, and had his wounds tended. He had quite a few, aside from the gash in his side that Paige had mentioned when he first arrived. But what little he had said had not been complimentary toward the X-Men or their "methods."
And Jean-Paul could not have agreed with that more-- the bad taste of Xavier's betrayal of his trust was still in his mouth. And probably would be for a long time, as Jean-Paul Beaubier did not forget his grudges easily. But if Jono wanted to hang around, it was all well and good. At the most, he would be an asset to the team, with his kind of power and control. And at the least, he was new eye candy. Of the look, don't touch variety, as usual... but anything was a welcome change after Drake. Every look at Bobby now seemed to twist that knife...
At least, it would be fine to have Jono in the house when the new additions were finished. In the meantime, having him asleep on the couch in his office when he came in to talk to his broker in the morning wasn't always so fantastic, really. Not that it kept him from his business. But it was still irksome.
However, his office was empty now. So Jean-Paul went to it, closed the door behind him, and sat down at his desk, head in hands. Trying to get rid of the image of Kitty bending down to kiss Bobby when he woke, four days ago, that had been burned into his mind since.
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"Well, Robert, Katherine – enjoyable as this has been, it's time I should be leaving. Scott's threatened that if I don't bring the Blackbird back within the next two hours he'll send a search and rescue team after me. I've run out of excuses for my absence, since you're determined that no one at the mansion be made aware of your recent ordeal…"
Hank's statement ended casually, but Bobby saw him raise his furry eyebrows, and shook his head.
"I told you – go ahead and let Annie know everything's ok, but ask her not to say anything. I really don't want everyone showing up and pestering the hell out of me."
Actually, part of him did. The Fallen Angels had been great about visiting; Kitty was practically living at the hospital, and the others had all been stopping in at least once a day. Even Jono, who he hadn't known was even with the Angels until he'd shown up with Jubilee the day before. But, however petty it might be, he wasn't quite prepared to forgive his former teammates for their attitudes over the past few months. And, he knew, he didn't want to chance Hank telling them, and having them not come visit, which is what he suspected would occur. But he wasn't about to admit that to his fuzzy friend...or to anyone else, for that matter.
He reminded himself that when Jubilee had called, Hank had come. And that meant a lot.
"If you insist," Hank replied, sighing. "I understand your feelings on the matter," damn, Hank always could see right through him – when he was paying attention, anyway, "but please stay in touch? Let me know how you're doing, if you please? Pneumonia is nothing to trifle with."
"Yeah, yeah, I know – it's not like I'm going anywhere," Bobby complained.
"No, you're not," Kitty observed from her seat next to the bed. "Not until Dr. Rai says you are, no matter how much you complain about it."
"See what I have to put up with?" Bobby said to Hank, grinning. And began coughing, yet again.
Hank politely waited until he had finished, then, smiling, said, "I suggest you not complain, as the lovely lady has been your near constant companion for the past four days. It's good to see the two of you talking again."
Bobby agreed quickly, trying to hide his concerns on that subject, and heard Kitty do likewise, then stood up carefully and gave Hank a hug. "Thanks for coming, big guy."
"You needn't take such drastic measures to get me to come visit, you know. A simple hand-engraved invitation would suffice."
"You'll get one," Bobby promised, sitting back down on the bed and watching Hank hug Kitty in turn, chuckling inwardly at their size discrepancy. From where he was sitting, it looked as if she were being engulfed by a huge, blue rug. He saw Hank whisper something to her that he couldn't hear, and saw her nod as she relaxed her embrace.
"Are you sure you don't need a ride?" Kitty asked as Hank turned to leave.
"Quite certain," he assured her. "I have, for the occasion of the taxi ride, my very own image inducer, preprogrammed for this eventuality. You stay here and talk with Bobby, so he doesn't feel he's been abandoned." Chuckling at his own wit, Hank left the room.
"So, what do you want to talk about?" Kitty asked cheerfully, sitting back down in the chair next to the bed.
He didn't know how to answer.
Hank was right – they were talking again. Which was a huge improvement over the past year and a half, certainly. They talked about the weather, and what was happening with the team, and what pranks Jubilee had pulled on J-P in the last twenty-four hours. They talked about tv shows, and the monopoly game they were playing, and the computer equipment she'd ordered.
But they weren't…talking. And he wasn't sure how to start, without taking the chance of her leaving. Again.
He'd tried, a few times, tried to tell her that he'd heard her, and how much what she had said meant to him. But her eyes had clouded over, with pain rather than anger, at least, and she'd quickly changed the subject. And he wasn't sure how, without hurting her, without making her leave, to bring it up again.
And he knew, much as they needed to actually talk, that he wasn't prepared to take that chance. Not yet. Not when the memory of her face, smiling at him as he'd opened his eyes, was still so new. He couldn't risk losing what they'd gained back over the past few days. He couldn't take the chance that she'd leave again, especially now, when he couldn't follow her.
And so he smiled, and carefully stood back up and arranged the ridiculous hospital gown he was wearing over his sweat pants. "Let's take a walk. Dr. Rai said not to spend too much time lying down, after all."
"Sounds good," she agreed, standing back up and draping her arm around his waist for support, as he grabbed the IV pole with one hand and put the other arm around hers, welcoming the warmth of her body against his own.
Not yet.
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The next day...
"So this one is the monitor for just the surrounding grounds," Paige was pointing at one of the sets of monitors and keyboards that lined the table to the far right of the room. It was very...US Special Intelligence in the new room. Something out of a Tom Clancy novel or film-- Lots of green maps and glowing monitors and metallic tables and chairs.
"Ja, und if we turn on the heat sensors...," Kurt flipped a switch, and suddenly the map of the grounds lit up with figures, all in red lines. "We can see the position of anyone outside the house. Now inside we didn't have them installed, for obvious privacy reasons. But outside we need to be defended, as Jono's arrival demonstrated. Do you think you can handle this?"
Paige forced herself to stay calm. But... yes! This was it! Sure, it took Kitty being stuck at the hospital with poor, sick Bobby for a week... which, of course, she was sorry had to happen. Even if she didn't mind Kitty being somewhere else, she really did miss having Bobby around, grinning and joking and hell, even being angsty. The place just... didn't feel quite right without him. It was like... one of her brothers being gone, or something. Like life just after Sam left to go to Xavier's. Kinda empty.
But... yes! Responsibility! Kurt had finally asked her to be in charge of something, both the search for more information on the rogue Sentinel they'd encountered, and sorting out the glitches in the new sensor systems. All that talk about her capabilities, when they'd first left, and now someone was finally trusting her with something. Oh, she'd show Kurt Wagner what she could do, most definitely. And when she was done, he'd never want anyone else in charge of their scanners, or their research.
Paige nodded in reply, and turned back to one of the more normal-looking PCs in the room, the one complete with the fastest internet access she'd ever dreamed of. "I'll get to work on this information search-- the Chicago Library should be helpful. And I'll keep running the diagnostic to see what's happening with the weird sensor freak out on long range."
"You, meine freundin, are a lifesaver, as they say," Kurt grinned, and made a little half bow at her. "Do you want me to start looking over here? If I use the voice command...,"
When the sentence didn't continue after a moment, Paige looked up to see what was keeping him from it. And saw that Jono had come into the room, and was looking around, eyebrows raised as if he were impressed. And Kurt was laughing silently at him.
"Nice set up," Jono finally commented, smiling back at their fuzzy blue leader. One of the few non-sarcastic smiles she'd seen on that pretty face of his since he'd awakened for good the other day.
Paige looked away from him, and purposefully went back to her search. Glued her eyes to the glowing monitor before her, and refused to look his way any more. She was just glad that Kurt was here. For the past few days, Jono had been too tired, too injured, to really want to talk. And she'd tried, honestly tried, accepting... what had happened to him.
Oh what the hell was wrong with her anyhow. It wasn't as if he had an accident and was now horribly disfigured, so she shouldn't stare. It was the polar opposite, for god's sake! But... somehow... it felt...
Wrong. Maybe it was just his eyes. The way she'd been sure he was going to kill that man, Jackson, the Weapon X director... but he just didn't... feel like Jono. Not right now.
And what if he did? Things had changed for her since he'd left her with his vague understandings. Left her with no promises. While he'd gone off to London to sleep with that trampy pop star, she'd... well fallen in love with Warren Worthington. Both of them were changed now, in fact.
Ah, god, no more thinking. Research. She had work to do, damn it.
"I thought so. Apparently, what they say isn't true. Money can buy you anything," Kurt quipped, behind her. "Were you looking for something?"
Paige couldn't see what passed between the two men in the room. But she had a funny feeling that it went something like: Jono nods at her, Kurt nods back and says, "Well I'd better be going to find Jubilee now. She wanted to talk with me."
Irritated, but knowing damn well that she would have to play this game before too long no matter what, Paige waved her fingers over her shoulder in farewell, and continued punching keys as fast as she could.
Jono didn't take the hint. He came to her side, and sat down on the table. Inches from her keyboard.
She had to hand it to him, he did look good in those Diesel jeans of Jean-Paul's he was wearing around. She tried not to let her gaze linger too much on his nicely defined legs, and forced them up over his black t-shirt and leather coat clad upper body. Perfectly in-tact. Up further, to that sweet face of his. A bottom lip that begged to be touched, preferably with someone else's lips, and smooth, white cheeks. Boyish, but somehow not too young.
Perhaps it was the look in his eyes. The one that clearly branded him as a jaded bastard. Just like the rest of the X-Kids. They'd all come out that way.
Somehow, though, it seemed like Jono had gotten a lot more of that lately than the rest of them. As she thought of it, she suddenly wanted to ask him about Weapon X. Kurt had gotten all the information they needed, of course. But she wanted to ask him how it... felt. Being there, alone, on the inside. Was it scary? (When was the last time she'd seen him scared?) Did he ever laugh, while he was with them? (Jono always laughed at the oddest times, when he actually managed to get one out.) Was he alone always? (Wasn't he always alone, even when he'd been with her?)
But it passed, slowly, the urge to ask him all those questions. An old reaction, an affection that would never truly die. He was her first. And he always would be.
But she wasn't in love with Jonothan Starsmore anymore. And hadn't been for a long time.
"What's happening, Jono?" She finally asked him, when it seemed like he might never speak to her if she let him sit any longer. Just staring at her.
"Just... admiring."
Torn between a need to roll her eyes and a very distinct feeling that her cheeks were flushing, Paige shifted her eyes back downward to her monitor. "How do you like it here?"
Quiet for a minute. And then, "It's nice. Lose the bureaucracy and posturing of the X-Men, keep the protecting people who fear and hate you... it's a nice way to live, I reckon."
That, at least, made her smile. "That's the idea."
"Am I here because I can help, or because of pity?"
She looked back up at him now, sharply. At the handsome face he'd come to her with. "I really don't see why we should pity you. You have what you always wanted."
A wry smile formed on those unfamiliar lips now. "Funny, you'd think that, wouldn't you?"
Paige closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. Talk about leading the witness. What was she supposed to do? Ask him, Oh Jono, what is it that you always wanted? What kind of lesson did you learn from this experience that you're dying to share? No, that wasn't her. And it wasn't him either. "Jono... look. I know things have been shitty for you. But... is there something in particular that you want to talk about?"
"Depends on you. Paige...," his hand, she now noticed, was dangerously close to where her arm was at rest on the table. The back of his thumb brushed up against her arm just so. Barely there. But she knew what it meant.
And wondered where he'd picked that trick up. He never touched anyone, without being touched first. Normally.
"I... missed you."
She opened her eyes now, and watched his eyes for just a moment. And it almost felt like they were just kids again. And she remembered what he was like, back then.
"I missed you too. We've been through a lot," She admitted. "But Jono... things are different now."
His eyes dropped, at that, to his knees. "Yeah," He snorted, "Ain't that the truth."
It was a rhetorical question. She knew it. In fact, it wasn't even a question, really. But she answered anyhow. "Yes, it is. All our lives have changed, recently. We all have new responsibilities, new... lives. A lot has happened..."
And as she watched his eyes flick back up to hers, then down again after just a moment, she knew that she'd hit a nerve. If she hadn't been able to tell instantly from his attitude lately, she could tell from that, right there. She knew him. And he knew her.
But it wasn't enough, after everything that had happened.
"I came here because I knew you were here."
She swallowed once, then replied, "I know. And you can always do that. You know that. But..."
"S'awright," he stopped her now, put his hand on her arm and stood beside her. "Don't say it, Sunshine. Just... go back to your work. Sorry to interrupt."
She sighed, and he began to walk away, his bootfalls heavy on the tiled floor below them, echoing off the cavernous walls of the computer room. She turned, thinking she would say something... anything to make him feel... better.
But Jono didn't even look back. He just kept walking, hands in jacket pockets, boots thudding and rattling with chains. Head down, brown hair wild and brilliant.
That, at least, hadn't changed about him. Jono never had been one to look back, while he was walking away.
Paige turned back to her monitor, and clicked on yet another research link, praying silently that this search would yield some particularly engrossing information. She could really use some seriously intense work, right about then.
_________________________________
Jubilee was sitting on her bed, pouring through the photo album that had come in the mail from the mansion the day before, when she heard a knock at the door. Grudgingly, she shut the cover tight and looked toward the doorway.
"It's open," she called out disinterestedly. Even to her own ears, her voice sounded…flat. And looked up, as the door opened and Kurt stuck his head in the room.
"You wanted to talk to me, Jubilee?"
"Yeah," she said. But…she wasn't sure where to begin. Or what to say, exactly. She looked down at her hands, nervously, not willing to meet his eyes directly. She just knew, if anyone had the answers, it'd be Kurt. But she wasn't sure how to word the questions.
She drew a quick breath, and hopped to her feet. "Want to go for a walk?" she asked, prolonging the inevitable, suddenly unsure that she wanted to talk, after all.
Kurt raised his eyebrows. "Are we going far?"
"Dunno, why?" she asked. She really had no destination in mind, she just thought it'd be easier to talk if she didn't have to look him in the eye while she did it. How far they walked depended entirely on just how long it took her to bring up the questions that were plaguing her, and had been for the past five days. Or, if she wanted to be honest with herself, for the past several months…
She heard Kurt sigh, and she raised up her eyes that she hadn't even realized she'd dropped again. "I'll grab an image inducer, then, and meet you at the door in five minutes. Is that all right?"
"Ok."
Five minutes later, she came down the stairs to find Kurt – or someone she assumed was Kurt, anyway, standing at the door. He looked…different. More than just the lack of blue fur and a tail, she thought – that was obvious, after all. His hair was still black and curly, just like it always was, and his features were much the same as they were in his natural form…
It was his eyes. His usual golden eyes were now blue. Weird, what image inducers could do. It changed the whole look of his face, not having those golden eyes. Even more than the addition of a mouth and chin had changed Jono's.
But after years with various X-Teams, she was used to the unexpected. Or at least, she felt that she should be, so she just joined him at the door, not even commenting on his changed appearance. That would be what everyone expected from Jubilation Lee, after all. Just…go with the flow. It was almost funny, really, that more or less growing up with the X-Men meant you were expected to just accept whatever life handed you without question, even though none of them did.
"Shall we go, Liebling?" he asked, opening the door for her, and she shook the cobwebs out of her head and preceded him out.
They walked in silence for a bit, down the road and around the corner, as she tried to order her thoughts into something resembling coherence. It wasn't working, though, and she sighed.
"What are you thinking, Jubilee?" Kurt asked gently.
"Ummm, if we keep going this way we'll end up in the lake," she observed quickly. Maybe she shouldn't ask Kurt. Maybe she shouldn't ask anyone…but damn, it was nagging her. It had gotten so bad that even Guthrie had noticed, and she normally wasn't the most observant of roommates. Jubilee had thought of talking with her, about it, but Paige…well, Paige was a very concrete person, Jubilee decided. Which was great, but didn't exactly make her the ideal confidant in this situation. She wasn't even sure Paige had ever considered the concept of life after death; it didn't have anything to do with biophysics, or team leadership, or anything else that seemed to be important to her. Kurt, though…he'd practically been a priest, which should make him a subject-matter expert. And, really, she had to admit, he was just an easy person to approach. Something about him made him just…confide-able-in.
"Try again," he said sympathetically, and she peered up at his unfamiliar face looking down at her with concern.
Jubilee sighed, and stopped walking. "I dunno. It's just – Bobby almost died."
Kurt nodded. "He did. Or at least, he could have."
Jubilee stared at him blankly for a moment. He looked so calm, so serene about it, and she hoped he was faking it for her benefit, because she certainly wasn't feeling calm about it. On the contrary. Bobby's near death had brought a lot of things home, things she really hadn't wanted to think about. "Doesn't that bother you? How do you deal with it?"
Kurt opened his mouth, then closed it, and she saw his eyes glaze over. Image inducers were pretty impressive that way, she thought randomly. She'd have to ask Hank about that, sometime, how they made them show expression that way...
"It bothers me, of course," he finally answered, and she could hear the reluctance in his voice. "But he didn't die, true? He's at the hospital, no doubt frazzling the nerves of many innocent nurses, and soon he'll be back home."
"Yeah, he's okay there with Kit – she'll make sure nothing happens to the Icicle. She's good at that," Jubilee agreed grudgingly, looking down at the sidewalk, and looked up only when she heard Kurt laugh.
"Oh, it's not you," he assured her as she looked at him curiously. "But Kitty would be the first to disagree…"
"Yeah well, no matter what Johnny says, it wasn't her fault he got invaded by microsentinels. I just can't believe they had a thing and I never knew it," she replied, shaking her head. She welcomed the brief change of subject, though she knew they'd head back to the original one. Probably sooner than she wanted to, but not soon enough to calm the uncertainty she'd been feeling for the past few days. But at least she had a few more minutes to…pull things together.
"You were at the Massachussets Academy at the time," Kurt argued. "And not many people did know. They managed to keep it remarkably quiet, considering the usual state of the mansion gossip mill. Of course, it was also not of long duration, really."
"Yeah, guess not." She studied the pavement in front of her feet some more as they resumed walking, tracing the cracks in the concrete with her eyes.
"So, it bothers you that Bobby nearly died," Kurt finally said, and she looked over at him. Damn, he was trying, but he looked…uncomfortable.
"Well yeah, dude," she said, feeling tears begin to well up in her eyes. "I mean, he's my friend. I don't have so many of those left – I mean," she corrected quickly, "I don't have so many of those that I want to lose any."
"You've…lost several recently, haven't you?" Kurt asked. Uneasily. She hadn't expected Kurt to be so…uncomfortable. Usually nothing seemed to phase him, much.
"Yeah well, part of being an X-Man, right? I mean, dangerous line of work and all. They knew it, I know it…" her voice trailed off. "It's just – no one seems to die in the line of fire, do they? The munchkin died of Legacy, Ev – well, Ev died in the line of, duh, but Angelo…somehow, I never thought that being crucified was part of the contract, you know? And now Bobby…"
"Bobby's going to be fine," Kurt tried to reassure her, reaching out and putting one hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off.
"And the others?" she demanded as the questions inside her suddenly burst loose. "Where the hell are they? Can you promise me that they're okay? Cuz you know, I didn't have one of those near death experience things when I died. Didn't see Ev, or my parents, or Ange, I just…did it, and then woke up to find myself getting pumped full of Warren's blood. If they were ok, shouldn't I have seen them, then? Where were they?" She was crying in earnest, now, and felt Kurt wrap his arms awkwardly around her, felt his three fingered hands rubbing her back.
"Jubilee, I…" Kurt began awkwardly, but just then the phone rang.
"Was der Hölle?" he complained, as he let go and groped in his pocket for his new cell phone. "Fallen Angels' line, Nightcrawler speaking," he answered, shrugging his shoulders at Jubilee in apology for the interruption. She sniffed, quickly trying to blink the tears out of her eyes, embarrassed by her outburst. She tried to focus in on what Kurt was saying on the phone, tried not to think about the sight of Angelo lying on the table, or Bobby's frozen body on the floor of the bathroom…
"Ja, Mr. Mayor, this is a surprise," Kurt was saying, and Jubilee saw him look over at her and raise his eyebrows. "A what? Certainly, we'll be right there…no, thank you." He pushed a button on the phone, and looked over at her. "There is a situation at the Courthouse, and the Mayor has requested our help…I'm sorry," he said, and she could see the honest regret in his face, despite it being tinged with something like relief. "I know I said we'd talk…"
"Yeah dude, and we did. Let's go kick some ass," she said, putting a determined look on her face. "What're we fighting?"
"Hold on a moment – I want to call Jean-Paul and let him know what's going on," Kurt said, holding up his hand. "Yes, Jean-Paul, this is Kurt. The mayor called – ja, quite a surprise, I agree. No, he isn't suing for damages to the hospital," Kurt rolled his eyes, and Jubilee nearly laughed, despite herself. Leave it to Johnny. "Nein, there's a mutant activist threatening to burn down the courthouse. No, I suspect that Jubilee and I can handle it, we're relatively nearby, and…no, not a pyrokinetic, she has torches, if you can believe it, but she seems to be escaping regular law enforcement rather easily, perhaps a teleporter? Fine, we will keep you posted," he finished irritably, turning off the handset. "Jean-Paul says he will be at the hospital with Aurora should we need him," he said, his eyes glistening with either amusement or annoyance, she wasn't sure which.
"That politely?"
"Well, no," Kurt admitted. "But that's where he said he'd be."
"Lucky him," Jubilee sighed. While she felt a little better about having gotten her question off her chest, she felt like – she was just waiting, now. Until Kurt could or would answer, and apparently he didn't want to, which couldn't mean anything good. But the anticipation was killing her. She pushed it aside, for a time, and pasted a cocky grin in its place, a fake version of her usual look. "So dude, are we going to go kick some ass or what?"
Her grin shrunk, a little, under the intensity of Kurt's questioning look, and she could tell she hadn't fooled him. Not one little bit. But he nodded, gesturing towards the left with his head. "Ja, we are. This way to the Courthouse, I believe."
And she followed him, desperately trying to push down her anxieties and focus, as Wolvie had taught her, on the task at hand. But the doubts and questions still weighed heavily on her mind.
________________________________________________
It was all Jean-Paul's fault, Kitty decided as she peeked into the room to glare at the Canadian, who was sitting in the chair next to Bobby's bed, a faint smile on his face as Bobby described his overwhelming victory in the Monopoly tournament between bouts of coughing. Which, happily, were fewer than the day before, but still too frequent for her taste…
Ducking back around the corner, she leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. Despite everything, despite the fact she'd spent nearly every waking moment at the hospital for the past five days, she still couldn't bring herself to talk – really talk to Bobby. And it was all Jean-Paul's fault.
She could still hear the arrogant asshole's words echoing through her mind, "All you've done since you've gotten here is make things harder on him. Perhaps if you hadn't shown up in the first place…" And, despite Kurt's assurances, she wasn't at all sure it wasn't true. Perhaps if she hadn't accepted Kurt's invitation, Bobby would have been fine. Maybe he would have managed, somehow, to fight off the infection without turning to ice or freezing out a wing of the hospital, and without being trapped inside his own body, unable to communicate. Knowing Bobby, he must have hated that more than anything; she remembered the nightmares he'd had, way back when, about his powers spiraling out of control after his encounter with Loki. And maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't have pneumonia now from the intense cold he'd forced his body to generate for such a long period, or the total and complete exhaustion that was so painful to watch. She'd hurt him before, after Genosha, and now she'd managed to do it again. If it hadn't been for her…
Damn it, why did everything she do always hurt someone?
She heard Bobby saying goodbye, inside the room, and heard Jean-Paul's lower tones answer, too softly to make out the words. And sighed. She couldn't leave the hospital, and leave Bobby alone; she knew that was the thing he feared most, right now…but she was finding it increasingly difficult to stay, the way things were. She desperately needed some time to think, away from Bobby and that disarming goofy grin of his that warmed her inside, even though her core still felt like ice.
All thanks to Jean-Paul.
"I suppose you'll be returning to your post now," the man in question said sarcastically from right next to her, shocking her out of her reflections. "Far be it from me to come between the two of you."
Kitty said nothing as the Canuck continued walking, unwilling to admit to him that he already had.
______________________________________________
Jubilee's rushed, light footfalls grew distant on the marble floor of the courthouse entry way, and Kurt turned to the main hall with a mixture of fear, anticipation, and, admittedly, relief, in his stomach.
A year ago, he would've welcomed Jubilee's inquiries into the nature of the afterlife. A month ago, even, he might have found a way to give her satisfaction. But he was not one of those who believed in lying to children to comfort them, in telling them that people had gone to a better place when he wasn't sure they had himself. Children deserved the same respect adults did, after all. And Jubilee was not even a child anymore, really. She was his equal in this endeavor, and had been doing this almost as long as he. He trusted her with his life, and with the lives of all those people he'd just sent her to get out of the Courthouse.
But he didn't feel like telling her the truth, as his mind had decided it must be. That there was nothing in the afterlife. Nothing but more mutants, if anything at all. Nothing but angels and devils who were just like them. Whose genome was slightly different from the rest of humanity's. And were otherwise not so fantastic. And he had no idea where her friends were. Or his friends, for that matter.
Frustrating, to say the very least. Frustrating, disheartening, and really damn dissappointing. And that didn't even begin to describe the empty spot in him that the lack of... knowing had left.
So yes, the Mayor's call had been more than welcome. As guilty as that thought made him feel.
Kurt stepped into the room, and pulled the doors shut behind him. His eyes scanned the room, paying careful attention to the shadows. He knew all too well how easy it could be to hide within them, so that a first glance could do little to reveal the hidden. Seeing nothing, he stepped further in, between the long rows of wooden benches, toward the front rail, hoping to get a look up into the balcony and 'port up there, possibly surprising this terrorist. He knew the offender was in this part of the Courthouse, that much he'd been told upon entry...
Moving slowly through the silence in the cavernous room, Kurt turned around, leaned against the rail, just where it unhinged to let people through onto the main floor. He almost felt like he was being led to give testimony on something or other, and nervously eyed the witness stand, just to his right. Funny, how watching too many movies could do that to a man-- hyperactive imagination.
He raised his eyes to the balcony, and something flashed above. In an instant, he 'ported onto the balcony railing, balancing himself with cat-like grace as he scanned the entire space--
And saw his prey. Staring him down with eyes so violently purple, they seemed to glow from the darkness of the back of the balcony. In a one-piece leather get-up that looked like it had been painted onto her, if not for the zipper that went straight up the middle... and didn't quite make it to the neckline of the outfit. It was unzipped halfway down her-- yes her, definitely a her-- chest. She wore a heavy belt with various attachments, including several flare-looking objects that he assumed were the torches the Mayor had assured him she was toting. And Kurt recognized well enough the two protrusions over her shoulders. Two rapier hilts. Without question.
She took one step forward, eyes narrowed, heavy black leather boots thudding ominously on the wooden floor as she did so.
The echoing sound snapped Kurt out of his initial examination, and he suddenly looked up, to her face, as he jumped off the railing. Angular and stunning, with a strangely cruel expression twisting up her pretty purple lips, and long streaks of curling black hair falling over her forehead, having escaped from a high ponytail.
Suddenly, she smiled. More of a sneer than a smile, though, really. Her voice was low and husky as she asked him, "Like what you see?"
Kurt smiled back, brightly. And reached for his image inducer. "I was about to ask you the same question, fraulein."
Her dark eyebrows arched high on her forehead as he pushed a button and revealed himself to her. Knowing it would catch her off guard. She didn't jump. Didn't scream. She only looked him over quickly. Appraisingly.
He didn't give her time to think about it. He ported to her side, and took one of her wrists in his hand, "Now what's this about wanting to set fire to the courthouse?"
But he felt her slip out of his grasp even as she became a blur in front of him. More of a streak than a blur really, she suddenly seemed to go intangible and slide through the darkness in a black streak, to end up three feet to the left of where he'd been holding her. His hand closed into a fist, where he'd once had her wrist in his grip, and he simply stared, grinning, for a moment. No wonder they couldn't catch her. Now this should be interesting... "It would seem that I'm not the only one who is hard to keep a hold on."
She grinned back, but this time without malice. She actually seemed... pleased by that assessment. "Too right, you aren't. Still think you can stop me?"
"Without question," he raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms over his chest, as if he were totally at rest. But he was well balanced on the balls of his extraordinary feet, and given just the right moment...
"Let's see you--,"
But before she could finish, he suddenly ported again, behind her, and pulled one of the swords from the sheaths crossed over her back. He did it without thinking, on a simple, momentary need to see what she was made of. And to feel... something other than confused. This was something he knew. This was what he was born to do. Tangible and real and understandable...
He could beat her. Save the courthouse, yes, save the people, yes, do the Mayor a favor, yes. But here, now, all he wanted... was a good fight. And he had a feeling that she could hand it over.
And that, he found, was a good feeling.
She spun, even has he relaxed into position, spread his feet wide and balanced himself perfectly, instinctively. She had the other sword out in a flash, and sunk into position as well, bent knees, eyes narrowed, rapier at the ready. "These are no practice blades, blue boy," she sneered. "I could kill you with this sword."
Kurt felt his eyebrow twitch up, in amusement. "Tell me, what is a terrorist and an arsonist doing with swords on her person, anyway? And torches in her belt? Shouldn't you have guns and flamethrowers?"
He saw her body tense, read the signs in her. Saw her foot inching forward before she even took the step, as if in some kind of prescient flash. Advance, advance, lunge. He could read it in her face, in her legs, in her feet. He retreated once, and parried effortlessly, as if he'd never put down his sword.
And they both smiled.
"Anyone can use a gun or a flamethrower, blue."
"Nightcrawler," he corrected her, feinting suddenly, and lunging at her once.
Steel rang against steel again, echoing through the balcony, then down through the main room as she parried, spun a few feet away, then propelled herself upward with a high jump, onto the arm of one of the benches. She landed with uncanny precision, impressing Kurt-- he hadn't seen too many people with his brand of agility in his lifetime. Granted, she was way behind him, but in this little warm-up match, she could certainly hold her own. "Nightcrawler, huh? I've heard of you."
Kurt stood straight a moment, seemingly letting down his guard, and used the edge of the rapier to scratch at a particularly annoying spot on his back. And kept grinning. "And why haven't I had the pleasure of hearing of you?"
"Call me Shade," she offered, stepping slowly back onto the bench now, with a strangely satisfied half-smile on her dark lips as she settled into her guard. "And I carry swords and torches because guns and flamethrowers are imprecise and barbaric. They take little or no skill, and make the user feel little or no responsibility for their actions. With a sword, I can feel my opponent. I know that if I've won, it was thanks to my own skill, not a lucky shot. Anyone can get lucky, Nightcrawler."
He raised one eyebrow, and grinned at her. "Is that your theory?"
Her own smile grew wider, and her violet eyes flashed. He could've sworn that she was enjoying this as much as he was. "I've proven it. Many times."
He didn't bother to ask her if she had proven that anyone could get lucky, or that when she won, it was due to her own skill. It was really one of those "don't ask if you don't want to know" sort of questions. Instead, he leapt to stand before her on the bench, and began a fast and furious bout of advances and lunges at her, with the occasional change-up of his beat and timing. She was fast, but on the retreat. Her failed attempts to disengage his constant pressure on her kept her simply parrying and retreating, constantly.
It was clear that she was sizing him up, of course. He had a feeling that he was better than her, despite all her confidence. He could read her every move, like he'd never put down his sword. Like he'd been using it all along. His heart was speeding up, the adrenaline now thudding through his entire body joyfully. And it felt good, as they danced for a few moments in silence, blades flashing happily in the dim glow of the lights from upstairs. She was powerful, strength-wise. Her arms and legs worked effortlessly, she ducked and lunged as if she didn't even feel it. But, he knew, he was faster.
And eventually, she knew it too. With a whir, Kurt spun on her, lunged once, and if they had truly been fencing, he would have scored a proper hit to her shoulder with ease. Instead, he stopped, just as the point of his blade touched the leather of her bodysuit, and he flashed his tail to wrap around her wrist, the one that held her sword, in the same instant. Felt the pounding of her pulse in her thin wrist, as the spade of his tail pressed against it.
Purple eyes flashed, and she streaked away from him again, appearing on the next bench over now.
He turned to face her, still smiling, loving the flush of blood flowing so near to the surface of his skin, the slight feeling of sweat beginning to break out on his forehead. And, admittedly, loving the look of her at that moment. Sword at the ready, eyes narrowed, despite the fact that she knew she'd met her better. This one wouldn't give up easily.
"We can do this all day, Shade," he told her. "But it won't change the fact that you're in the wrong here. Can't you think of a better way to prove your point than setting fires?"
Artlessly, she allowed her blade to point downward, as if she were leaning on it. And she cocked her head at him, causing some of the stray curling locks to cover her eyes. "Why do you ask me questions? Aren't you here to apprehend me and have done with me?"
He shrugged, and also relaxed his posture, "Ja, naturlich. But I'm interested. And to be honest, they never told me what your point was."
"They?"
"The Mayor called."
"Oh, so you have something like the Bat-Signal? Commissioner Gordon just lights it up and in comes Nightcrawler?"
"I'm not the only one. There are more of us. But yes, something like that, actually," he laughed.
"I have only one point then, if you're so interested. And that is that the government must fall in order for mutants to survive."
Kurt resisted the urge to sigh. Here he was, enjoying the fight so much, and she turned out to be just like the rest of them. Misguided reckless mutants who wanted to use their weapons instead of their brains. "Don't you think anarchy would only make things worse? Honestly, survival of the fittest--,"
"Would work to our advantage," she raised her eyebrows and informed him, coolly.
"I've heard this story more times than you can imagine," He shot back, disappointed. "I'd expected more."
"Sorry to let you down," she sneered, settling back into her guarded position, ready to fight again, it seemed. "But the establishment is the source of oppression. Things could take their natural course, but instead, we find ourselves getting wrapped up in the politics of government. In the politics of the institution, the organization. The US government, the Catholic Church--"
Kurt leapt now, to the bench she had taken up residence on, and advanced to catch her off her guard.
She managed to parry, however, and he stepped back, disengaging, impressed once again. Not bad. Faster now. She was learning more about him, and quickly.
"--are just two examples of institutions that choke the life out of the good things they should be representing," she finished, as if he had not forced a break in their conversation at all.
"Both have their purposes," Kurt informed her, honestly and without thinking. "The government protects people from each other, the church protects them from themselves, sometimes."
"You honestly believe that people are so foolish that they need that kind of protection?" She sounded appalled, suddenly, no longer the cool, detatched voice of anarchist "reason" she'd been only moments ago. "We are not children, Nightcrawler."
"Kurt," he muttered, distractedly, with another quick advance, followed up by a feint, another, then a lunge at her side.
She batted him away, with furrowed brow. "What?"
He realized what he'd just said, and realized why, in the same moment. And decided, despite his surprise over the issue, that he ought to just tell her. "I can't hold this conversation with you calling me Nightcrawler. My name is Kurt." Not like he had a secret identity anyhow... that cat had been out of the bag for years now.
"Kurt," she repeated, bending her knees a little further, considering him carefully. After a moment of silence, of the two opponents simply eyeing each other, she nodded. "Isabel."
"Sehr gut," he started advancing anew, and pushed her toward the end of the bench mercilessly now with a series of lunges and thrusts that she was having difficulty avoiding.
But avoid and parry she did, and she ended the run by streaking to the left, and landing herself on the bench next door, then retreating a few steps, to give him room. "So, Kurt, tell me what purpose you see such institutions fulfilling."
"You sound like someone who wants to be convinced," he mused aloud, following her lead to the next bench, catching her sudden advance on him, despite the fact that he hadn't forseen it, and pushing her back a few steps anyhow. This one was going to be tough. And how the hell was he supposed to keep a hold on her, once he got to her...?
"I am open to the idea that I do not know everything," she breathed, narrowing her eyes again, obviously irritated with his foiling of her plans to catch him off guard. "I always ask for the opinions of those I respect, though no one has swayed mine, to date."
Respect, was it? Well, perhaps there was a chance he could talk some sense into her... "Not everyone has the time, Isabel," he began, slowly relaxing his posture for a moment more, allowing the tip of his foil to drop just slightly, as a sign that he wanted to talk rather than fight now. "To sit and ponder the great questions of the universe. Or of the government. These kinds of organizations... I've seen them both badly used. But I've seen the good they can do as well. The government can protect and vindicate so many, and without bias, if used properly. The Church can provide the answers to questions that might otherwise plague humanity--,"
"Answers of convenience."
"Answers that the heart knows the truth of," he corrected her, instantly. "There is nothing convenient about the Church's assessment that there is, in fact, a God to whom we are responsible for our own actions. If anything, it causes more problems. And it is not something we can believe simply because we are told it is so. It is something we feel. But not everyone has the time to sit in contemplation long enough to sort out their feelings on the subject, to the point where they would spontaneously know God. And the Church provides that pathway. Certainly...," he suddenly grew quiet, realizing what it was he was saying. And what it meant.
She only stood, looking at him. She dropped her en guard stance, and blinked at him, obviously curious.
And he pushed out the rest of what he had been about to say. Almost painfully. "Certainly, the establishment has been misused. But how many would have floundered for answers and guidance, how many who spend their daily lives simply trying to feed their families, trying to keep the world safe for their children, would never have come to know the truth of God in their lives, if not for that establishment. And... doesn't it seem worthwhile, if the good outweighs the bad?"
Slowly, she nodded, black ponytail bobbing. "You make a good argument for the Church. You sound like my grandfather. He was a priest... before he left to marry my grandmother."
Kurt swallowed hard, suddenly immensely uncomfortable. Heard the blood pounding in his ears. And then heard pounding on the door downstairs.
The cavalry had, apparently, arrived. And he still had no idea how to keep her, once he'd caught her.
"But I still don't buy it," she informed him, now sinking back into position, obviously preparing to give it all she had on this one last run. "And I definitely don't buy it when it comes to the government. I'd love to talk about it more, in fact, but I'm afraid my time is almost up..."
Kurt nodded at that, and let it begin. The last run between them. He knew damn well she couldn't beat him, he simply had more experience. She was younger than him, if not by much, and he had his mutant agility to help him with-- her mutation was clearly this strange... short range porting ability, and nothing more. At least, nothing more that she was willing to show him... But if he didn't think of something fast, it would be enough to at least evade him. He had to distract her further... keep her thinking of something other than getting away... just awhile longer. "It is," he agreed, advancing on her faster than ever before now, knowing he didn't have time to hold back. He didn't want her to be hurt, and if those were cops down there at the door, he knew very well that they wouldn't know what to make of her, might shoot at her, if he had her in a compromising position. No, he had to diffuse this situation entirely now. No more games. No more fun. This had to be about business. "And that's why you should give up now, Isabel."
She was retreating constantly now, her movements becoming somewhat jerky, but never outright desperate. No, she was well under control, that much was perfectly clear. With just a little more training, she would prove a formidable opponent, in fact.
Part of him looked forward to that, really. But most of him knew that he had to end it now. It was his obligation...
Finally, he had her on the ground, and managed to disarm her with a quick thrust and twist of his blade. He caught the weapon in his tail, gave it a quick flourish, and put a hand on either side of her head, against the wall, dropping his own sword to the ground.
She stared at him, defiantly, breathing hard against his chest.
And he suddenly noticed how very close to her he had put himself, as he felt her hot breath on his face.
"Come with me," He told her, forcing calm. As if he had another way to contain her, at the moment. "They won't hurt you."
"I'll die first, and you know it," She was actually grinning at him, now. "You pretend you don't understand me, but you do. You won this time, Kurt. I'll leave the precious little courthouse alone, because you beat me, fair and square. But if you think I can't shadowstep my way out of your grip whenever I want, you're wrong."
Shadowstep, was it? Clever name for the power... seemed appropriate, really. "I know people who can protect you," he found himself saying, before he'd thought it through. "You don't have to go to prison, if you can let go of the--"
"Anarchy? No, thank you, I like my anarchy where it is." Her eyes flashed again, and she suddenly bent her knees and slid downward, to pick up the fallen rapier at his feet.
Leaving him leaning on the wall, staring down at her. Crouched at his feet. Very close to him. And looking up at him with the most evil grin he could remember seeing since he'd met Satan himself. In a decidedly... suggestive position for the two of them.
The downstairs door opened, and Kurt heard footsteps coming up the stairs. But only one set. And light ones.
Isabel suddenly stood, and her face was just in front of his again. He wasn't sure if that was better or worse than where it had been... but he certainly wasn't going to complain. "Then I'll have to take you in."
He heard a few clicks, saw her hand moving for her belt. He quickly transferred the sword in his tail to one of his hands, and wrapped the tail around her wrist, once again.
"Handy thing, that tail," she smirked, voice low.
He couldn't resist smirking back, despite the obvious urgency of the situation. Something about her... it was hardly appropriate but... "You have no idea, Liebe."
The footsteps had reached the balcony now, and he heard Jubilee's unmistakable voice yelling, "Kurt! It's all clear! The SWAT team is downstairs. Do you have her?"
"Yes, Jubilation," He answered her, without removing his gaze from the violent purple one of his adversary. "It's under control."
"Is it?" Isabel breathed, leaning against him just a little now. He felt her wrist tighten in the coil of his tail, knew she was activating something there... he squeezed harder as she continued. "I meant what I said, Kurt. I could shadowstep out of your grasp at any given moment. But let's face it-- you can fight, you can make me laugh, you can hold an intelligent conversation... and you have that fabulous tail. What kind of woman would I be if I wanted to shadowstep out of your grip?"
"Clever," He smiled, "But flattery will get you nowhere."
"Unfortunately, no. Not with someone like you."
And with that, she streaked again, and reappeared three feet to the left, near to the balcony railing, hands on two of the slim black sticks at her belt. She pulled them out and flipped a switch at the bottom of each, and they lit up instantly, in hot, blue flame. And she grinned again. "Luckily, I have other tricks up my sleeve. Don't take it personally, Kurt. I do hope we meet again soon."
He lunged for her, but she had already thrown the torches over the balcony. Within seconds, they would have half the room lit up, if he didn't get them... so he did the only thing he could.
He threw himself over the railing after them. He grabbed first at one, then the other, as they fell next to each other, and 'ported back to the balcony, blazing torches in hand.
And she was gone, just as he'd known she would be.
"Damn... I don't know what happened, man," Jubilee said, apologetically. "She was here and then she just like... blurred, kinda like Johnny does, only she was like... suddenly a bunch of black lines..."
He nodded, and flipped the switches on the bottom of both torches, putting them out with a sputter. And sighed. "Shadowstepping. It's her mutant capability. Something between a quick 'port and a burst of speed and intangibility."
"Shit," The girl swore under her breath. "Where did she go?"
Kurt shook his head, knowing it was too late. He had won this round, it seemed. She was still out there... but the courthouse was safe. She'd said she would leave it alone. And somehow, he trusted that she had meant what she'd said. Isabel. "She's gone. But... I have a feeling we'll see her again."
Jubilee's lips pursed up, as if she'd bitten into something sour. "Dammit."
An irresistable urge to laugh suddenly took over, and he did so, walking to her side and putting an arm over her shoulder. "We won this round. We just need to keep our eyes open for her. And hope that we can get to her before she tries anything else. Now that we know her capabilities, we can work on how to contain her."
"Who was she?" Jubilee started walking with him, back toward the stairs. "She was hot..."
Kurt laughed at that, and examined the sword he still held in one three-fingered hand. It was a fine blade, really. In fact... he decided there and then to have another made, and sheaths made for his back. After all, it was what he did. It had felt good, better than he could explain, to play Errol Flynn again... "She was. Her name is Shade..."
________________________________________________________
Jono took a long drag on his Camel Light, savoring it. Sure, it was a foul, horrid habit. But he was so enamored of the fact that he could smoke, an activity he hadn't been able to partake in for long years, that he wasn't terribly bothered by that fact. He was too busy revelling in the taste of tobacco and smoke, of the rush of nicotine through his blood, directly into his head, to bother with feeling guilty for the damage he was doing to his brand new lungs.
No, he really wasn't bothered. In fact, he was almost enjoying it. The kind of wanton, taking-my-body-for-granted activity he'd been denied for so long.
At least, he figured, there was that much to be happy about. He still had the face. And the chest. Even if he didn't have everything he wanted...
The screen door slid open behind him, the sound shocking him out of his brooding trance momentarily. He sucked hard on the Camel, and looked over his shoulder, to see Jean-Paul closing the door behind him as he stepped out onto the back porch.
Jono turned back around, instantly, and stared out into the back yard, covered with an eerie red glow in the early evening. He was never quite sure what to make of the surly Canadian man. Half the time he thought J-P hated having so many people in his house. And the other half, he thought the speedster was so bloody lonely, he'd die without them all. Something in his expression, when he talked about going to the hospital for visits. Jono figured he missed his sister. Summat like that.
But either way, he knew he wouldn't have to worry about Jean-Paul bothering him out here. The man had a positively British respect for privacy. Which Jono could appreciate.
Even though he halfway wished someone around this place wasn't so concerned about giving him space. Because honestly... he could really use a good talk. Well, maybe not a talk. But... company, maybe. Really wished... that it was like old times, and he could just... fuck off with Ange, or...
Christ.
Jono blinked hard, into the setting sun. He didn't even notice that Jean-Paul had come up beside him until the other man spoke, in hushed, clipped tones. "If you so much as think about smoking one of those dreadful things in the house, I'm afraid I'll have to hurt you."
With a sarcastic snort, Jono looked over at him. Tall and cocky, sticking his chest out like he was king of the fucking world. And no wonder. A man like Jean-Paul Beaubier would think he was the king. And no one would have ever thought to tell him otherwise, likely. Lucky sod.
In reply to his comment, Jono simply ashed on the step they both stood on, and raised his eyebrows. He knew it looked like a challenge. He didn't necessarily mean for it to. Just... well he wasn't about to let pretty boy intimidate him.
Alright, maybe pretty boy did intimidate him. Just a tick.
But he wasn't about to show it.
"No worries, mate," He forced out, pulling his eyes from the older man's demanding glare, looking back out over the yard.
Jean-Paul gave his own irritated snort, in return but said nothing else. He just stood there, leaning on the rail, mere feet from where Jono stood. Staring.
So, Jono returned to the same activity, and they stood, in a strangely comfortable silence, for the better part of a half hour. It occurred to Jonothan that they were both brooding, although the younger of the men couldn't imagine what JP would have to brood about. Other than the nutter of a sister. But maybe he was just that type, the kind who took everything to heart, and got very dramatic about it, internally.
Jono shot the elf-eared speedster a quick glance, at one point. Caught the hard line of his jaw twitching, as if Jean-Paul were clenching it in frustration.
Yeah, he could buy that. Obviously, the man had drama. And obviously, he didn't like to talk about it.
Which was good. Because Jono didn't feel too much like playing the get-to-know-your-asshole-teammate confession game. The company, however, was fine. Made him feel a little more... human. Standing next to someone like this. Someone who didn't know him, of course. But still... it was... someone.
Jono lost himself in another bout of guilt and shame at that point, in much the same way he had been losing hours of the past few days. Whenever he was awake for more than three our four hours, it always started to get to him. And when he wasn't busy feeling guilty, he kept looking over his shoulder, like he was still on the run from something, even though he knew, knew that Weapon X was done for...
"The jeans look good," Jean-Paul suddenly said.
Jono blinked, and noticed that it was dark outside now. And Jean-Paul was no longer beside him, but behind him, going back toward the door. He turned to look at the Canuck, furrowing his brow. "Yeah?"
"Keep them," Jean-Paul shrugged, somehow making the gesture seem less of an admission of stupidity, and more of an elegant concession. "I was never much of a jeans man anyhow."
"Roight... thanks, then." He was confused by this line of conversation. Not that it was conversation, per se, just...
"And I meant it. Keep that shit out of my house."
And with that, Jean-Paul was gone.
Jono turned back to the yard, and was surprised to find himself smiling. It was a strange sensation, smiling after so long. Sometimes, even years after his mouth had been gone, he'd still thought he was smiling, at times. But now he could feel it. The strange, beautiful tightening of muscles, the expression of something silly and nameless and fleeting inside. But honestly... he did feel a little better, for having had the company.
He turned to follow the other man inside, but saw the shade of a blonde woman trotting down the hallway after him, through the glass doors.
And felt his heart in his throat.
So he lit up another cigarette, and decided to go for a little walk. In the other direction.
Maybe he could deal with Paige not being his. He'd made a lot of mistakes recently, and he only had himself to blame for losing her. And he could deal.
But not tonight. Not yet.
_______________________________________________
Jubilee leaned against the wall of the courthouse, exhausted, watching Kurt talk to the Mayor and the press on the steps. She knew she could be out there getting praised, for once, for defeating the bad guy, but she really just didn't care. Unlocking her knees, she slid down until she was sitting, her knees bent in front of her, her trademark sunglasses holding the hair out of her face.
Kurt seemed more…relaxed, since the fight. As if he'd pulled himself together, and gotten something more than a sword from the encounter. She wished the same could be said for her. Maybe if she'd gotten a chance to fight something it would've made a difference, but she had to admit that it probably wouldn't have. And, as Kurt had been stressing since they'd started the Fallen Angels, the safety of the bystanders had to come first. It was something the X-Men rarely seemed to consider, any more, but something Kurt felt was paramount to them being accepted in Chicago. While evacuating the building wasn't as exciting as fighting off some chick with a sword, she knew he felt it was just as important. Looking at him on the steps, with the Mayor shaking his hand and photographers snapping his non-image induced picture, she realized he probably knew what he was doing. It was going to take some getting used to, that was all.
In the meantime, though…
She saw, in her mind's eye, the photo she'd been looking at that morning, taken back at the Massachusetts Academy. She saw Ev, with his arms around her shoulders and M's, a pose that had infuriated her at the time as she waited for him to recognize her as something more than a friend. It had never happened, never had a chance to happen. She smiled as she thought of Angelo, standing behind and between Paige and Jono, making bunny ears over their heads. She remembered how Jono had elbowed him in the stomach seconds after the picture'd been taken, collapsing him to the ground with a whoomph, and how he'd pulled Paige down on top of himself when she held out her hand to help him back up. Despite everything, Ange had always found something to laugh about…
She wondered if they were laughing now, looking down at her sitting here and angsting like a Summers. Or if they just…didn't exist anymore. Anywhere.
"Jubilee?" she heard, and blinked. And blinked again when she saw the blue face staring directly at hers. Damn, she must've really been out of it not to see Kurt come over and crouch down in front of her.
"All done?" she asked, looking around to see that the reporters and camera crews were making their exits, and that the mayor was no longer in sight.
"Ja," Kurt replied, smiling and standing up. He offered her a hand, but she'd already begun scrambling to her own feet.
"Got it," she said glumly, and started walking. "Everything go ok with the Mayor?"
"Ja, definitely," Kurt replied, and she could hear the contentment she'd detected earlier in his voice. Whatever had happened during that fight had sure made a difference; he sounded, almost, like he had before all the shit he'd gone through lately. "You know, you could've stayed - he wanted to meet you."
"Not in the mood, Dude," she shrugged.
"I know," Kurt said quietly, and she glanced over at him and saw the concern still present in his eyes. Which were gold again. Much better. Somehow, despite the fact she knew it really didn't matter, it was still easier talking to Kurt when he, well, looked like Kurt. "We didn't get much opportunity to talk before."
"It's ok, really," she said, remembering he'd seemed uncomfortable with the topic. She started walking, towards home, knowing Kurt would follow. Instead, he put his hand on her shoulder, firmly, and turned her around.
"It isn't," he said, and sighed. "I'm sorry, I didn't know how to answer. I was overthinking, I suppose. And it really isn't about thought."
Jubilee just stared at him, not knowing what to say, not sure what he was trying to tell her, except that he seemed…well, as if he'd given it a lot of thought. Which sort of negated his previous comment.
"It's about faith," he continued, smiling gently. "There's no science involved, not really. It's about finding the answer in your heart, and knowing it's true.
"I don't know why you didn't see your parents, or Ev, when you died. Perhaps it simply wasn't your time, and they knew that. Perhaps Angelo wasn't even there, yet, or was being met by others. Or perhaps you did see them, and forgot. But I know," he said emphatically, "that they are well. Some things, you can just... feel."
Jubilee examined his face carefully, searching for any sign of that patronizing "tell-the-kid-what-she-wants-to-hear" syndrome that had been partially responsible for driving her away from the X-Men. And she saw nothing to that effect. Just sincerity. And maybe a little surprise. "Something happened today to... show you? I mean, since I asked?"
He nodded, slowly, and smiled. "Ja, you might say. Lately... I admit, I have not known what to believe in. Things I thought were set in stone, things I thought I could believe in... they are not what I once thought they were. Heaven and hell. And Satan."
"What about God?" Jubilee furrowed her brow, thoughtfully. She hadn't really considered that Kurt might be having some kind of issues with his faith... which was stupid of her, she now realized. Jesus, he'd just met up with Satan and had a little Luke Skywalker moment with the man... no shit things weren't how they seemed. Damn. "I mean, the whole thing, the afterlife and the universe, it really kinda depends on God more than any of that angel or devil crap, right? God is the one who would say..."
Kurt looked up at the sky, and gave a small laugh. "I have yet to meet him. In person, that is."
Jubilee considered this. In person? Well who the hell could meet God in person? "Dude, we're not talking about Thor here. You can't like... see God, can you?"
Her companion laughed, genuinely. And she found herself smiling back, as he said, "No, I suppose not. Maybe. But I haven't, yet."
"But you know he's around?"
Kurt seemed to consider this for a moment, still smiling. "Ja, Liebling. I know. It's like what I told you before, some things, you can just feel. And even though things are not what I thought they were for so long... I can feel that much."
"Well then, duh," She rolled her eyes, "You just told me that's all that counts! You know God is there, and there is more to God and religion than angels and devils... So what's to angst over, elf-boy?"
She knew, in fact, that there was a lot that Kurt Wagner could be angsting over. She didn't know everything, but now that she considered the kinds of questions she was asking, and the kind of experience they'd all had in Azazel's dimension... she should've thought of it before. She'd just been too wrapped up in her own crap to see it.
But he was smiling, and that felt good, to her. So instead of pushing him, she cracked a joke, so he'd keep smiling.
It worked. "Your guess is as good as mine," he laughed, raising one eyebrow and grinning at her.
So maybe she didn't really have any answers. And yeah, it sucked. But... life never did come with answers. No instruction book. Some things you just have to... feel.
Sure, it was still gonna bother her. Every day she'd think of them. And Kurt's father, his own past, would bother him, she knew that. But she slid her arm through Kurt's, felt him bend at the elbow to take her arm in return, and leaned on him a little as they walked. And she remembered. Illyana and Ev and Ange. And tried to see if she could just... feel something, some kind of answer.
She didn't think that she felt anything extraordinary. Well, a little heartburn, but that had nothing to do with it. "Kurt," she asked, after a few minutes of walking in silence, "Do the answers, the feelings, come fast? Or slow?"
"Sometimes," He grinned again, but wryly this time, "They take a lifetime."
"What a gyp," She purposely stuck out her lower lip at him, pouting. Seriously, though, it was.
But maybe it was ok. She'd be thinking of them for the rest of her life anyhow. She had time.
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Pandaemonium!
First off, we'd like to congratulate Jesse from Icy Items, the winner of our "Name the Letter Page" contest! Pandaemonium suits our Fallen Angels perfectly – thanks Jesse!
Second, we'd like to welcome the new Editor of Fallen Angels, the infamous Taekwondodo! Hopefully adding her to the team will greatly decrease the number of typos and sentences beginning with "And" that you guys have been forced to deal with…you'd think with two of us writing this we'd be able to avoid those, but we had to admit that we couldn't. Thanks TKD!
Now, on with the letters. There was a HUGE response to Issue 5, so I'm going to try and address the most commonly asked questions, or things that really jumped out. If I miss anyone's questions, e-mail me please! We appreciate all your feedback!
Risty, Caliente, Linzer-B, Didi: We'll definitely be doing more with Jono, as you can see from this chapter. We agree; he has a lot of potential.
Red Witch: No plans at present to do anything with the Xorn/Magneto storyline, but we're not ruling it out, either. It'll depend on how it comes to affect the cast of our story.
Risty and Caliente: I can't speak for Beaubier, but you had me rolling with your analyses of our twisted love triangles, er quadrangles, er…! Somehow, even I hadn't realized just how convoluted things had gotten…hope the Angels survive the experience!
Heroes for Ghosts: Thanks! Both Beaubier and I have a "thing" about dangling plotlines – and someone has to wrap them up! Might as well be us.
Harry2 – Paige and Jubilee should be fighting over Jono? Why? Just because he's got an incredibly cute new face…on second thought, maybe that is a good reason. But seriously, Paige isn't interested in Bobby. She just doesn't like Kitty.
WishfulThinking2: Sorry we didn't show Jono's reaction to waking up next to Jubilee, but we figure he probably just dismissed it as his "babysitter" being worn out. They're friends – they look out for each other.
Linzer-b: Hope this answers your questions about Kurt and Jubilee!
Didi: Bobby's my favorite, too (big surprise to everyone there, right?) But as you can see, everything's far from resolved between him and Kitty, so anything can happen.
Didi, AlexL, Erin-Starlight, Heroes for Ghosts: Glad you're enjoying the tension between JP and Kitty. Don't worry, it'll get worse before it gets better. Gotta figure two strong-minded people are going to butt heads – even without Bobby in the middle!
WishfulThinking2, Know Insight, and everyone else who expressed sympathy for Jean-Paul: Gotta agree with you guys; poor JP…
And finally: Thanks to The Scribe3, Verthril, Risty, Red Witch, Amura, Caliente, Heroes for Ghosts, Harry2, Wishful Thinking2, Linzer-b, Didi, Sparrow1, Adam, Polka Dot, Taekwondodo, Alex L, Erin-Starlight, BlueSqueak, KnowInsight, Jesse, Suzene, NagaXs, and Irishblarney2002 for reviewing! We love your feedback (hint, hint!), and we're really glad you're enjoying the series!
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Next Issue: Paige and Kitty haven't exactly been the best of friends, so far – what'll happen when they have to work together to investigate Purity?