Does It Almost Feel Like Nothing's Changed At All?

by chalantness

"You're Clarice, right?" It's more of a statement than a question, and he says it in a way that lets her know he's heard all about her, or at least all about her powers.

Title: Does It Almost Feel Like Nothing's Changed At All?
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~3,800
Characters: James/Clarice
Prompt: "maybe write how they met in the past, and where they are in the future after logan changes the past"
Summary: "You're Clarice, right?" It's more of a statement than a question, and he says it in a way that lets her know he's heard all about her, or at least all about her powers.

For: numbah435spiritsong

Does It Almost Feel Like Nothing's Changed At All?

There's no getting used to being in mutant refugee camps, mostly because they're, for obvious reasons, in so many varying locations and miles away from any real civilization that it feels like you're stranded.

And that's basically what they are – stranded and in hiding.

At least they're never without food and clean water and medical equipment, and maybe it makes her sound conceited, but she likes that it's her powers they depend on the most to survive, second only to Kitty's. Whether it's for quick escapes or midnight supply runs (aka: raiding shipments into the city) she's the one that gets them in and out with the lowest possible risk. They used to tell her how difficult it was just to lay low and get by before they'd had her portals to count on, and it's why she pushes herself to be precise and in control at all times. Because they need her, and she makes things a little easier on everybody if she can do her part right, so she has to make sure she doesn't screw things up for everyone.

It leaves her a little faint on worse days, and she's passed out more than she's willing to admit, but it's always worth it in the end.

The camp they're in tonight is one of the oldest and definitely the most extensive, and maybe even the most stable, too, because they're fairly hidden on this small island a few hundred miles from the nearest coast. That doesn't mean they're without risk, but it gives them the luxury of being able to stay here for more than just a few days at a time.

Her only complaint – and this is just her being whiny rather than genuinely upset – is that it's hot here.

It's hot and humid at any hour of the day and worse when the sun's actually at its highest. There's no… You're just going to sweat, and it makes her feel disgusting, but whatever. It's the smallest price ever to pay for their safety, so she'll suck it up.

"Here."

She looks up and sees one of the newest rescues standing there, offering her a bottle of water. It's terribly girly of her, but her first, honest observation is that he's cute. He's cute and she must look awful with her hair up in a messy bun and her body layered in sweat.

"Thank you," she says, pushing those terribly vain thoughts aside.

"Thank you." He sits himself beside her with his legs dangling off the edge of the cliff. She gives him a look. "You're Clarice, right?"

It's more of a statement than a question, and he says it in a way that lets her know he's heard all about her, or at least all about her powers. He knows it's her portals he'd jumped through when they helped him escape the Sentinels, the same portals that helped Logan and Kitty raid the truck these bottled waters came from.

"Yeah, I am." She doesn't know his name or remember rescuing him, and she's not going to embarrass either of them by trying to play it off like she does.

"James," he supplies, and she shakes the hand he offers her. "You saved my life."

"It's…" She looks away. She never knows what to say when people tell her this, because no, she can't really brush it off by saying it's no big deal or something similar, like saving their lives was just a happy accident and not her intention.

"But I also saved yours, so I guess we're even," he adds, and her eyes snap to his, startled. He's grinning at her. "You were thinking about jumping off the edge of this cliff because you were so thirsty, right?" He taps his bottled water against hers as if to toast to this. "You're welcome."

He's teasing her and it takes a second to catch onto that, but when she does, she laughs so hard that she actually cries.

She hasn't laughed like that, ever.

... ...

She's up, and she doesn't know how late (or early) it is, but this wouldn't be the first time she's found it hard to sleep. She's not the only one up, either, because obviously some of them have to keep watch over everyone else at night, and then there're a few people like her right now, who're supposed to be resting and just can't for one reason or another. No one really talks about what keeps them up, and she can't figure out if that's out of respect or if, despite all they've gone through, no one actually knows how to deal with the trauma.

A few unmistakable silhouettes are sitting around the ashes of the campfire that'd been burning earlier, and she pulls on her robe and joins them outside.

"Hey," Kitty greets as Clarice settles into the chair beside her, and she pushes a mug of tea into her hand before she can refuse. Not that she would've, but still. "You remember…"

Clarice just smiles. "I do. It's an honor to see you again, sirs."

Charles and Erik are… Well, it's hard to explain. She knows there's a lot of history between them and it shows in the way they are together. They used to be best friends, closer than brothers, and then they were each other's worst enemies, and then they were somewhere in between.

She's not sure where they land now, but they're no doubt the leaders of this sort of band of fugitive mutants they've assembled and always have been, even if they're gone more often than not, dealing with more pressing matters with much higher risks. She's only met them a handful of times, but they know who she is and what role she plays and it makes her feel a little less… intimidated, she supposes, whenever she finds herself with real veterans like Logan and Storm and Kitty and Bobby, which is more often than not considering that she tends to be fairly crucial in every plan they come up with. She doesn't think that this puts her on any pedestal, but when Charles and Erik compliment your performance?

It's hard not to feel flattered by that.

"Always so formal, this one," Storm says teasingly, nudging Clarice's arm. She just grins and takes a sip of her tea.

"We were talking about the old school," Bobby tells her. "You would've loved it there. It was… a whole universe away from all of this."

It makes her eyes sting a little bit, hearing the sadness in his tone, though she feels a little silly because of it. Kitty slips her hand over his, threading their fingers and squeezing gently, and Bobby gives her this really tender smile. "That sounds perfect," Clarice admits.

"It was a great place," Logan says, voice gruff. "So of course fucking Trask had to get their hands on it, too."

"Logan," Storm warns. He rolls his eyes but doesn't go on, tips his beer back as he takes a gulp, and Storm gives him this sort of sad smile as she sets her hand on his forearm and rubs it gently. Turning back to Clarice, she adds, "It was a great place. Beautiful and big, next to a large field and a huge forest… And the weather always seemed so perfect."

"Nothing like the weather we get at these camps, right? Where I'm always either freezing my ass off or dying of dehydration."

Everyone laughs, but, somewhere behind her, she also hears a cough.

Charles starts saying something else, but Clarice isn't really paying attention as she glances over her shoulder to find James standing a few feet away from them at one of the guard posts. She isn't really surprised by this. A lot of the newer rescues are asked to take the night watch for the first few weeks if they've chosen to stay and fight (which most do). That's not them being underestimated, either. It's taking precaution. There are very few exceptions where new mutants are brought into the field before everyone's sure they can handle it.

James isn't looking in her direction, but he's got this grin on his lips and it makes her smile a little, too, because she can tell he'd definitely heard her.

"That's James, right?"

Clarice blinks, looking at Kitty. "You've met him?"

Kitty smiles and, yeah, that was a pretty silly question. Of course she's met him. It's been almost two weeks since they'd rescued him and it's not like James keeps to himself or anything. He makes everyone laugh, and with his super strength and near invulnerability, he draws attention whenever he's training. Clarice is no exception.

"It's his first night on watch, I think," Kitty tells her. "Why don't you bring him some tea?"

"Kitty," Clarice says. Honestly, the girl isn't subtle with these things.

"Just do it." Kitty pours another mug of tea and pushes it into Clarice's free hand, and Clarice glances at the others. "They won't mind. They may not even notice. You know how it is when they start swapping war stories as if everyone wasn't there, too. You won't be missing much."

Clarice just smiles and shakes her head, getting up.

James is still grinning as he watches her walking over, taking the mug she hands him. "Thanks. I was dying of dehydration," he tells her.

"Shut up," she laughs, though she doesn't mean it at all. He makes her laugh all the time and it's… She loves it. It's refreshing and it's like he just knows exactly what to say to cheer her up, cheer everyone up. Yeah, he's serious when he needs to be and that's important, too – because what they do isn't to be taken lightly, and it's not like they're so serious all the time because they want to be – but sometimes you need to smile, you know? And James is always happy. Well, not happy, but he's always smiling and she likes that about him.

"How's that healing?" he asks, gesturing to the bandaging over her shoulder. She'd taken a hit on the last run and Logan's asked her to keep from sparring for a few days.

"Just needs a few more days and it'll be good as new."

"Aren't you going tomorrow?"

"I'll be fine," she tells him, even though that's not really an answer. He gives her a look. "They need me."

"We all need you," he says easily, almost with a bit of a laugh, like it should be obvious, and she blinks at the certainty in his tone. He seems to miss this. "It just sucks that you don't get any sort of break. If you work yourself too hard then it'll take that much longer to heal."

She tilts her head. "Well, it's not like I won't have cover. I'll actually have more this time because they I'm more limited."

"Your protection better be top notch." She nods, because well, yes, that much is true. "Would you trust me to protect you like that?"

"Well, considering your shoddy performance during training…" She's teasing and he grins because he can tell. And yes, she feels pretty good that she's able to make him smile almost as easily as he makes her. But then she sets her hand over his wrist and he meets her eyes. "I've seen how fast you pick up on things when you spar. I'd trust you with my life."

And she's faced with the fact that she's a little bit in love with his smile, otherwise she wouldn't feel this happy seeing it, especially since it's because of her.

... ...

She takes a blade to her side.

It's not critical, but it's not just a flesh wound, either, and it hurts like hell whenever she tries to move.

They have her on bed rest unless it's absolutely necessary, and no one's left camp in over a week because none of them want to make it necessary. They won't say this outright or anything, but she knows that's what they're doing, and really, they can only carry on like this for so long until they get found out or, at the very least, need to make another run for supplies. Which, yes, they can do without her powers. They managed it before, but that's riskier – so much riskier than everything already is – and she knows they won't consider it until it's their only option. She feels like she's healed enough to be on the move if something forces them, and no amount of pleading will keep her from helping if it comes to that.

(Knowing their luck, it'll come to that sooner than later.)

"Are you still hungry? I know Bobby wants to ration the food for a few more days, just in case, but if you're still hungry and I can—"

"James," she says with a laugh. "I'm really not hungry anymore, I promise."

"Alright, I'll just get you some more tea."

And she wants to tell him no, that he doesn't have to go through the trouble, but the only thing she's wearing on the upper half of her body is a bra. It's just easier for them to dress the wound like this, and she's under a blanket, but she's still cold. She could definitely use some tea.

He grins knowingly at her pause and gets up from his chair. "I'll be back," he promises, and then leaves without waiting for a response.

He's been like this ever since that night, always waiting on her, fussing over her, and as much as she wants to find it unnecessary, she can't. First, she knows it is necessary. They don't want her moving when she doesn't need to and she feels awful when she does, so she's not going to argue against the help. And second, it's sweet.

James had gone with them on the rescue, and it wasn't the first night he'd come, but it was his first night where he hadn't been with her, specifically, and she knows that's a big part of the reason her injury bothers him so much. It's no one's fault but her own – and she hates that she let this happen – but of course everyone else is trying to take responsibility for it and he's just the most persistent. He'd been across the field from her when it'd happened, and without one of her portals nearby, there's no way he could've reached her in time.

She thinks he hates that part that most.

... ...

It's strange to know that she's died before and doesn't remember.

Maybe that's not the right word for it, but… There's really no way easy way to wrap your head around it. She's died before, more than once. They all have, but Kitty sends someone back – usually Bishop – and gives them enough warning for them to get out before it's too late, so it's not like it technically happened, but it has in some sense. One of them always remembers and she thinks that's enough to make those events true, even if no one else has the memories or the wounds. It's unsettling to think about, but she can't really help it.

She can tell James can't help but think of it, either, because he trains harder and longer, and sometimes he gets so quiet and distracted.

It's scary.

James is still alone in the gym when she walks in a little after midnight, two hours after he'd told her he'd be going to sleep soon. This isn't the first time it's happened.

"Hey," she greets. He echoes the word in response, not looking away as he continues punching the bag in front of him. "Hey," she repeats a little more sternly, stepping closer, and his eyes go a little wide when he throws another punch and the bag bumps against her shoulder.

"Are you alright?" he asks.

"Are you?" He blinks, looking confused. "Something's been bothering you."

"Well, there're a lot of things to worry about."

"Don't give me that." He sighs. Not like he's exasperated with her, but like he just knows he can't hide it – whatever it is – from her. He can't, and honestly, she can't hide anything from him either. They just understand each other so well, and she thinks that should be scary considering they only met a few months ago, but it isn't. "What's going on with you?"

"It's nothing, Clary." (He's the only one that calls her that, and yeah, of course she loves it.) "I'm just trying to get better."

He won't look at her, and it's a little bit frustrating but mostly worrying. "Hey," she says again, turning him to face her. "What do you need to get better at?"

"Protecting you," he says, and she tenses, surprised. He's staring right at her now, and her hand is still resting against his cheek. Neither of them seems to mind. "You got hurt—or you did, once—more than once—because of me. You got killed because I couldn't—"

"Don't." It comes out shaky and this makes him meet her eyes. "Don't start blaming yourself for events that don't even exist anymore."

"Maybe they don't exist anymore, but it doesn't mean it's still out of my control. I can still do something to keep them from not existing, right?" When she doesn't answer right, he pushes his fingers through his hair and lets out this breath, like he knows he's not making any sense. "I promised I'd protect you with my life, before my own life, and if they've been able to…" He trails off, shaking his head. "If anyone is able to lay a hand on you then I'm not keeping my promise, and every time we fix the past, I get a chance to make up for it."

She blinks, eyelashes dotting with tears.

"You…" It's pathetic that she can't form a sentence. Not because she doesn't know what to say, but because she has too many things to say. "James…"

"Before my own life," he tells her, placing his hand over hers where it's still resting against his cheek. "That's my promise, alright, Clary?"

She nods, knowing that he means it, and he smiles when she says, "I'll hold you to it," like he knows that's a promise of her own.

... ...

When he first kisses her, it doesn't surprise her all that much.

Well, it does, of course, but mostly because they're sitting around the campfire with everyone else when he chooses to do it, but she hardly minds. They've got nothing to hide and honestly, she thinks this wasn't even his intention, to kiss her in front of everyone else. He'd asked if she wanted to sit with him on the edge of the cliff, the same spot where they'd met, but he didn't move to get up when she said that she'd love to and he kept looking at her like he couldn't help it, and she blinked a few times, leaning in closer, and that was all the permission he'd needed to comb his fingers through her hair and press their lips together. She can, vaguely, hear everyone talking around them, but she's not paying attention.

He presses their foreheads together after pulling away, traces his thumb over her temple where his hand is in her hair and gives her that smile of his, and she smiles, too, eyelashes fluttering as she catches her breath.

"Took you long enough," she says, and his breath is warm against her face as he laughs.

"You are pretty intimidating, Clary." She smiles and shakes her head, knowing he's (mostly) teasing. "Sorry for being so slow."

He doesn't need to apologize, at all, but she kisses him again instead of saying this. She thinks he doesn't mind.

... ...

She's reading outside today because the weather's kind of perfect right now and she's taking advantage of that, even if Kitty likes to poke fun at her and say that she tends to wear skirts no matter what the weather's like. She knows Kitty's just teasing, and it's not like it isn't true, so.

The school looks beautiful and always has, and there's honestly nowhere else on Earth she'd rather be than here.

Specifically on this bench, too, because it's underneath the shade of this huge tree and in a perfect spot to watch everyone else when she needs to take a break. Right now, she can see Charles and Beast across the field, Beast's hand over his stomach as he lets out a deep laugh at something. There're a bunch of kids playing baseball and absolutely using their powers to their advantage, but it's like that with most sports and the teachers don't mind – and actually encourage it – so long as they're not, you know, using their powers on each other or anything. Kitty and Storm are standing with Logan at the fountain, both smiling at him as he lets out a scowl, but Clarice can see that there's a hint of a grin on his face, too.

Clarice shifts, pushing her hair over one shoulder. It's getting warmer.

Before she can think to get up, though, there's a bottle of water sort of in her face and she blinks in surprise, looking up to find a boy smiling at her. She hasn't seen him around before, which isn't new. They get a lot of students here.

"Thank you," she says politely, taking the bottled water from him, and she's taken a little aback by how pretty his smile is.

"You looked like you could use a drink," he tells her, sitting himself beside her on the bench. "Oh, I'm James, by the way," he adds as an afterthought, and she shakes the hand he offers her. She opens her mouth to introduce herself, too, but then he says, "I know that you're Clarice," and laughs at the way she pulls away a little, surprised.

"Have we met before?" she asks, because… There's something familiar about him. She knows she would've remembered him, though, if they did – especially his smile.

"No. I just got here a few days ago. Logan told me who you were," he explains, like he could read the question in her eyes. "He said you were the one to convince my parents into letting me come here, so thanks for that. You pretty much saved my life."

He says this with a laugh, and she can't help but smile as she hears it. And what he said makes sense. She's been told that she's a pretty compelling person, especially for someone so young, so it's not unusual for Charles to ask her to speak with the parents of mutants who are hesitant in letting their kids out of their sight. Officially, she's brought as a student representative of sorts to give them her point of view, but really, she's the one sealing the deal, especially when she's sent with Logan. He's not always a great voice of reassurance.

"But I guess I saved your life, too, so I think that makes us even," he says after a moment, and she blinks, surprised. "You looked like you were about to die of dehydration, so, you know. You're welcome."

"Well, lucky me," she laughs. "And welcome to the school, James."

He grins and toasts his water bottle against hers.