Foil-wrapped disclaimer: Surprise, I don't own MutantX! Spoilers inspired
by Hard Time and JillyW's wonderful sequel Hard Feelings.
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ The Pain of Not Knowing @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
"Anyway, I'm sorry, and I wanted to apologize for giving you all that attitude before."
"It's okay."
"What?"
"No, it's all right." He's smiling at me, and I can't believe it, because looking at his face, at the cuts and bruises I put on him, makes me want to find a hole and hide myself forever. "You have to give me a hard time. It's your job," He says, and punches my arm lightly. "I forgive you."
My heart lurches. All I can do is offer my hand, and he takes it. "Thanks, man. Thanks for bringing me back."
I pull him forward and we hug like brothers, because that's how I feel at that moment. And maybe he does too.
"I look after my friends," he says.
@@@@@@@@@
I know they want to ask me.
I see it every time I enter a room where they are. On the surface, everything's back to normal. We're back to discussing the next mission, joking around, making personal plans. But sooner or later, I catch one of them looking at me, and I can almost hear what they're thinking.
We know you weren't yourself. But what were you thinking? Do you really feel that way?
The worst is Jesse. He's always been a thinker, withdrawing into his own head for long periods of time. But now, when he does that, I imagine he's remembering what I did or said to him.
I'm frustrated because I don't know how to explain it to all of them. Beyond the vaguest details, I can't remember what happened in Hillview after the bulls took me to solitary confinement. What I do know has been pieced together from what the others have said in passing, but nobody will tell me everything, not even Jesse. He told me that I said "some things" but he won't tell me what. Whatever it was, it must have been bad, because I don't think he's gotten over it no matter what he says.
I hurt him, and I don't know how.
They've never quite trusted me, none of them, and I can't blame them for that. Who trusts a thief and a con man? I've worked hard to show them my loyalty, that I can change and be a man my real father would have been proud of. But now, how will they ever be able to trust me? I don't even trust myself.
No. Don't think that way. No doubts, no second thoughts. I have to make them believe they can trust me, that's all. I just have to try harder. I'm good at putting up a front. I've been doing it all my life. I can't let them see the disgusting, scared little boy inside. Nobody can ever see that. It's weakness, and if there's anything my stepdad taught me it's that weakness can get you hurt or worse.
But still, I do get scared sometimes. Our genes keep mutating, and our powers keep changing. Adam says he'll find a solution, but so far he hasn't. What does he mean by "a solution" anyway? Does he have some contingency plan for us in case we go out of control, like Ashlocke? Will he lock us away in pods, the way Eckhardt wanted to do, telling himself that someday he'll be able to fix us so we can be free again? Will he kill us?
Or will we just go mad and die, the way Ashlocke did?
Adam knows things about us that he's never told us, I'm sure of it. But I don't know if he's holding back to protect us, or to protect himself. I wish I knew. I respect him more than any man I've ever known. I just don't know if I can afford to let down my guard with him. Maybe that's why I haven't gone to him, the way the others sometimes do, to talk about what happened. He might tell me what went down. And maybe I'm too afraid to know.
Whatever they did to me, it brought out a part of me that I didn't want any of my team to see. It was so easy for them to do it, too. Maybe Adam should have left me in prison. It's where I belong.
Stop it. No self-pity, no putting yourself down. You're Brennan Mulwray, you're tough, you're strong, nobody can get you down. All you have to do is keep the front up, make with the easy smile and the con-man charm, so they won't see how weak and scared you really are. . .
I can be overbearing, I know. Maybe even a little arrogant. I treat Jesse like a dumb little kid brother sometimes, like he won't be able to take care of himself if I'm not there to back him up or tell him what to do. It's plain crazy, because Jesse's tough and smart, way smarter than I am. It's just that he had it so easy growing up, he had a mom, and a nice home, and good schools, and everything he ever wanted. What does he know about life in prison or on the streets? What does he know about having things, bad things, done to you by others who are bigger and stronger and meaner? I didn't want him in that prison because he didn't know anything about the kind of people who live there, and because I was scared to death that he would get hurt and I wouldn't be able to protect him. If he got hurt, it would be my fault. How could I know that I'd be the one to do it to him?
I know he fought back, I've got the bruises to prove it. I do remember being angry enough to kill him, but I was angry enough to kill anybody they threw at me. I want to think that I had enough presence of mind to go after Jesse because he was the only one who had a chance against me. He could have massed to protect himself. He could have killed me. But he didn't. He was the one who protected me.
It's hard to look at him. The bruises are fading now. He smiles and jokes with the girls, and I want to believe that everything is okay, everything is forgotten. Then sometimes I see a look in those smoky blue eyes of his, something like. . . pain. . . What did I say to him that could cause that?
I wish I could remember. I wish I could just ask.
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ The Pain of Not Knowing @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
"Anyway, I'm sorry, and I wanted to apologize for giving you all that attitude before."
"It's okay."
"What?"
"No, it's all right." He's smiling at me, and I can't believe it, because looking at his face, at the cuts and bruises I put on him, makes me want to find a hole and hide myself forever. "You have to give me a hard time. It's your job," He says, and punches my arm lightly. "I forgive you."
My heart lurches. All I can do is offer my hand, and he takes it. "Thanks, man. Thanks for bringing me back."
I pull him forward and we hug like brothers, because that's how I feel at that moment. And maybe he does too.
"I look after my friends," he says.
@@@@@@@@@
I know they want to ask me.
I see it every time I enter a room where they are. On the surface, everything's back to normal. We're back to discussing the next mission, joking around, making personal plans. But sooner or later, I catch one of them looking at me, and I can almost hear what they're thinking.
We know you weren't yourself. But what were you thinking? Do you really feel that way?
The worst is Jesse. He's always been a thinker, withdrawing into his own head for long periods of time. But now, when he does that, I imagine he's remembering what I did or said to him.
I'm frustrated because I don't know how to explain it to all of them. Beyond the vaguest details, I can't remember what happened in Hillview after the bulls took me to solitary confinement. What I do know has been pieced together from what the others have said in passing, but nobody will tell me everything, not even Jesse. He told me that I said "some things" but he won't tell me what. Whatever it was, it must have been bad, because I don't think he's gotten over it no matter what he says.
I hurt him, and I don't know how.
They've never quite trusted me, none of them, and I can't blame them for that. Who trusts a thief and a con man? I've worked hard to show them my loyalty, that I can change and be a man my real father would have been proud of. But now, how will they ever be able to trust me? I don't even trust myself.
No. Don't think that way. No doubts, no second thoughts. I have to make them believe they can trust me, that's all. I just have to try harder. I'm good at putting up a front. I've been doing it all my life. I can't let them see the disgusting, scared little boy inside. Nobody can ever see that. It's weakness, and if there's anything my stepdad taught me it's that weakness can get you hurt or worse.
But still, I do get scared sometimes. Our genes keep mutating, and our powers keep changing. Adam says he'll find a solution, but so far he hasn't. What does he mean by "a solution" anyway? Does he have some contingency plan for us in case we go out of control, like Ashlocke? Will he lock us away in pods, the way Eckhardt wanted to do, telling himself that someday he'll be able to fix us so we can be free again? Will he kill us?
Or will we just go mad and die, the way Ashlocke did?
Adam knows things about us that he's never told us, I'm sure of it. But I don't know if he's holding back to protect us, or to protect himself. I wish I knew. I respect him more than any man I've ever known. I just don't know if I can afford to let down my guard with him. Maybe that's why I haven't gone to him, the way the others sometimes do, to talk about what happened. He might tell me what went down. And maybe I'm too afraid to know.
Whatever they did to me, it brought out a part of me that I didn't want any of my team to see. It was so easy for them to do it, too. Maybe Adam should have left me in prison. It's where I belong.
Stop it. No self-pity, no putting yourself down. You're Brennan Mulwray, you're tough, you're strong, nobody can get you down. All you have to do is keep the front up, make with the easy smile and the con-man charm, so they won't see how weak and scared you really are. . .
I can be overbearing, I know. Maybe even a little arrogant. I treat Jesse like a dumb little kid brother sometimes, like he won't be able to take care of himself if I'm not there to back him up or tell him what to do. It's plain crazy, because Jesse's tough and smart, way smarter than I am. It's just that he had it so easy growing up, he had a mom, and a nice home, and good schools, and everything he ever wanted. What does he know about life in prison or on the streets? What does he know about having things, bad things, done to you by others who are bigger and stronger and meaner? I didn't want him in that prison because he didn't know anything about the kind of people who live there, and because I was scared to death that he would get hurt and I wouldn't be able to protect him. If he got hurt, it would be my fault. How could I know that I'd be the one to do it to him?
I know he fought back, I've got the bruises to prove it. I do remember being angry enough to kill him, but I was angry enough to kill anybody they threw at me. I want to think that I had enough presence of mind to go after Jesse because he was the only one who had a chance against me. He could have massed to protect himself. He could have killed me. But he didn't. He was the one who protected me.
It's hard to look at him. The bruises are fading now. He smiles and jokes with the girls, and I want to believe that everything is okay, everything is forgotten. Then sometimes I see a look in those smoky blue eyes of his, something like. . . pain. . . What did I say to him that could cause that?
I wish I could remember. I wish I could just ask.