Title: Close Enough to Perfect.
Fandom: Mutant X
Characters: Jesse.
Rating: R for later chapters.
Summary: It's six years after Emma's death, Mutant X has disbanded, and Jesse Kilmartin has lost the love of his life. Now, he is left alone and confused as to what has happened to his life and the person he has become.
Warnings: None, really, but keep in mind, this is AU. :x
Disclaimer: I don't own Mutant X or anything related to it. I simply like to twist things around to apease my strange little mind. : Enjoy! And please, I like reviews!

Nothing seemed the same anymore. It was hard to imagine now, that just a few years ago, life had seemed as close to perfect as it could possibly get for someone like Jesse Kilmartin. Yeah, there was the fact that every day he woke up, he consciously knew that he'd be putting his life on the line, but it was what he did, what they did. They were a team, they were out saving the world, protecting people from things that most probably had no idea existed. It was fun, though, and he'd finally found a family who accepted him. And a woman who loved him.

That was then, though, and this? Well, this was now. It seemed like everything had gone downhill since Emma had died. For a while, he'd held it together pretty well, living each day as it came, never really caring too much about what the future would hold. After a while life had become so routine, bland, boring. It went on like that for years, until, after a while, he just wasn't able to take it anymore. Too much had happened because of him, too much had happened to him.

And now he was here. Sitting alone in the corner of the small, local pub, a beer clutched in his hand as his eyes darted over the day's paper. Sighing, he folded the paper, pushing it across the table before raising the beer glass to his lips. For a brief moment, sky blue eyes gazed around the crowded bar before returning to the wall directly in front of him. He groaned, slumping down slightly in his chair, his mind wandering, wondering how his life had come to this.

What had come of his teammates? Of Shalimar and Brennan and Lexa? And what of Adam? The last time they'd seen each other had been more than three years ago. Once upon a time, they thought they'd be together forever. But isn't that how it happens in all fairy tales? People find the closest thing to perfection and settle, live happily ever after, right? This wasn't a fairy tale, though. It was life. And in life, things happened: people fall in love, grow up, get distracted and move away. His mind wandered again, thinking of the good times and the bad, thinking of all that he'd done, the thing's he'd seen, the things he knew, the people he'd hurt or even killed.

The people he hurt. The one's he'd lost... Oh God.

There was a familiar tinge of pain in the pit of his stomach. It moved up his chest, slowly like a virus, until it hit his heart, and he could feel it breaking all over again. Slowly, he raised his free hand, brushing his fingers absently over the aching spot on his chest before rubbing his eyes and letting it drop back, limply by his side.

That was the last person, the last thing that he'd wanted to think about: Her.

With her light blonde hair and gray-blue eyes, wise beyond their years and that smile. The one that could put him at ease in even the most stressful of situations, that made him feel like he could melt or float away into oblivion and never care. The way she always smelled lightly of lavender and vanilla. He could remember the fluidity in her movements, in everything she did: the way she danced, the way she walked, in everything she did. It was like a soft falling snow, and it fit her well, so full of grace and beauty, and yet, there was a hidden danger in it. He could almost feel the touch of her soft, cold fingers on his skin, of her lips grazing over his, her hot breath on his neck.

But she was gone now, and that was a long time ago.

There was a lump in his throat. A soft sigh slid off his lips and fell as he sunk further down in the chair. It was times like these that he wished that he could just disappear. Dissipate into thin air. Part of him secretly hoped that the floor would just open up and swallow him whole and put him out of his misery. But that wasn't going to happen. And he was stuck here with his thoughts. How had life come to this?

It'd been six years since he'd seen her, she'd left not long after Emma had died. Six very long years. He never knew why she left. Had he hurt her somehow? Or was it simply because she wasn't able to bare the pain of losing her best friend. And it seemed, for a while, that he was okay, that he could hold on somehow, and bury himself in his work, keeping busy and hiding from the rest of civilization in the dark corners of the labs in Sanctuary or down in one of the ducts in the Helix. That maybe, if he fought hard enough, the memories of her would just fade away and disappear.

At one point, it seemed like he'd actually succeeded, that he'd finally gotten over her. And it seemed that he'd finally be able to feel close to someone again. It worked for a while the relationship he and Lexa had developed. They were close, and she made him feel almost whole again. Almost. There was always something missing, though.

And then it had happened. Everything had fallen apart and everyone had parted ways.

He shook, forcing himself back into reality. Trying his damnedest to keep his mind off of those things. Think of anything other than all of that: Football scores, work, that movie he'd gone to see with the girl he'd met at the new club on Foster last weekend.

Fact of the matter was, though, that he didn't really care for football, or his current job with the FBI, or that girl or the fact that he'd never called her back. He sighed deeply and stood, leaving the beer bottle on the table as he wandered over and grabbed a pool cue from the rack on the wall.

The bartender walked over to him and set another beer on the corner of his pool table as he racked up the balls.

"You okay, Jess?" she asked, her voice ringing with a soft concern. He'd been coming to this bar since he first moved to DC, and she knew him well, they'd become rather close.

He laughed softly and shook his head, looking up at her from where he was leaning over the table. "Honestly speaking, Kel? I've been better, but what can I say? Life's shitty sometimes. I'll get over it."

"You sure? I'm on break in a few minutes if you want to talk about it."

He looked up at her and shook his head. "Yeah, I'm fine," he replied with a shrug. "It's old baggage, anyway. I gotta work through it myself."

"All right," she said, almost reluctantly. She smirked, and shook her head. "My offer still stands, though. You know where to find me if you need to talk, 'kay?"

He shrugged in reply, lining up his shot. In one swift movement, he broke, the balls scattering over the green felt, a few falling into the side and corner pockets. Kelly stood there on the other end of the table, watching him closely as he surveyed the placement of various shots. He picked up the beer bottle and took a sip, placing it on a nearby table as he leaned over and absently hit another ball into the right corner pocket on the opposite side of the table.

She shook her head again and turned around, walking back toward the bar and busying herself with mixing a drink for one of the several people sitting there, waiting for her.

He hadn't even noticed the sound of the door creaking open behind him, or at least, he hadn't until he noticed that he'd never heard it shut. However, he didn't bother looking up and instead went back to figuring out his next move. Finally, the door shut and he shook his head. It was cold outside, and whoever had been standing in the doorway had been letting the heat in the bar out.

"Mind if I join you?" asked a voice from behind him.

He turned, his eyes wide in disbelief. "Oh my God."

To be continued….