TITLE: A crazy version of the truth
STARRING: Hellion/ Helix X-23
UNIVERSE: AU, some 616 elements
RATING: M
SUMMARY: "I had my reasons." Laura's explanation to a two-year absence falls somewhat short of describing just what she's been doing. Hellion and X-23.
-1-
Laura re-shoulders her bag, and looks up at the enormous school in hesitation. It's been almost a year, and she doesn't know how he'll react to her reappearance.
It has, after all, been over two years…and she hasn't called. At all.
He's going to be really pissed off.
Really pissed off.
After a few moments she gives a small nod to herself and heads in, through the heavy oak doors of the main entrance. Inside, the school is different than she remembers—but just as classy. She sees a corridor to her far left and right, an enormous wooden staircase straight ahead—one section going up, and one leading downward—and beside this a small desk with a sign declaring "Welcome to JGSHL". Manning the kiosk is a floating green blob, with a smiling, dopey-looking face.
She heads toward the latter, returning the creature's smile. "Excuse me—can you tell me where I could find—"
"Thasiqpowekks," the creature says, in a tone that sounds like a greeting. "wertjaslkxs! . Weojlcmgkrpkoesdlk."
Laura blinks.
"That's great, but I'm looking for someone. Can you help me find him?"
"Wuhretwejwoe?" the creature asks.
She shifts. "Uh…what?"
"Wuhretwejwoe!" it repeats.
"…" Laura rubs her neck. Awkward. "Not getting you, buddy."
"WUHRETWEJWOE!" the creature snaps.
"Why the hell are you working front desk if you don't speak English?" she demands, losing her patience. "Come on, get me someone who can talk to me then, at least."
"Will I do, kid?"
Laura spins around at the voice, and blinks. Someone she hasn't seen in a while.
"Logan," she says, her tone a little cool.
The two examine each other critically.
"You looking for a place to stow your duffle bag?" Logan asks. "Or just here to check us out? Better yet—thinking bout finishing school?"
Laura half-smiles. "You know why I'm here."
"I can always hope." The man looks tired suddenly, and his tone is harsh. "Just don't destroy any wings, okay? We're over-budget as is…an' a word of warning …he ain't been waiting for you."
She looks startled, so startled she doesn't speak. Her face blanches slightly.
"Can't blame him, Laura." Logan speaks a bit more softly now. "Two years is a long time. You're just lucky I didn't have a replacement for you."
Laura would normally have a snappy comeback, but right now she's a bit too shaken. She closes her eyes. "It's fine. Where is he?"
"You don't want to get settled in first?" her adopted father asks.
She shakes her head. "Best grab the bull by the horns, you know? I'll probably come find you later, though…you and your liquor cabinet."
"Nah-uh, kid." Logan gives her a disapproving look. "You think my school would be that shabby? First thing I did was install a proper, full-on bar."
"I should have come earlier," she says, with a weak grin.
Logan reaches over and pats her shoulder. "Just passed him a few minutes ago. Think he's finishing up with a class on the sub-level…practice rooms. Can't recall which one."
"Thanks." Laura turns, and heads toward the stairs.
"Good luck!" he calls after her, like she needs it.
She does.
…
A few minutes later, Laura is lingering in the corridor outside practice room 310, watching through the viewing window. Blue flashes, red flashes, purple flashes…and green flashes. She studies him, unobserved—meaning she'll have the upper hand. She'll know what to expect, more or less.
Speaking of hands, he's acquired a pair. Rather, a pair of metal prosthetics, really good ones. They seem to meld to the ends of his arms, as if an extension of his flesh, and work as if they were real. She closes her eyes, and for a moment she is back in the room—the white, sterile room—staring at him as he lies unconscious in a stretcher, his arms ending abruptly in a thick swath of bandages.
And in that moment, she knows she can't stay.
Laura's eyes snap open, and she hears—without listening—as he corrects his student, tells the girl what she's doing wrong.
She wonders at that. Him being able to point out what others are doing wrong. Has he grown that much? Was she wrong in thinking him unprepared?
As if feeling her judgmental stare, he suddenly turns his head and catches her eye. Surprisingly, he doesn't look surprised. He raises one eyebrow, and then turns back to the class he is teaching, like she's just a shadow.
Laura thinks of what Logan had said. She doesn't doubt he's with someone else—but is he really, completely over her? A crumbling thought hits her—is he happy now?
She inhales through her nose. This really puts a hitch in what had at first seemed to be a simple plan. Yes, he would be angry. Yes, he would be amazed and hurt. But in the end, he would forgive her, because he'd understand why she'd done what she'd done. And maybe, even, he'd come to thank her. She'd carried a kind of mental image in her head for years, like a wallet photo, a memory of him in happier times. And had tried to put that together with the other picture she carried—and still carries—her life, now.
It had helped make up for the absence of real photos.
She moves out to the hallway and slides to the ground against the wall, to wait.
…
Fifteen minutes later, she raises her head. The door has been opening and closing for a while now, as students exit, but he had not emerged, presumably staying behind to clean up. She wonders if he's trying to avoid her, but discards the idea. His look had been so cool and collected that she doubts he would even put in the effort to avoid her.
But now, the door has opened, and he's moving toward her, his expression as unbothered as in the classroom.
"Look what the cat dragged in."
Laura doesn't want to let him look down on her, so she gets to her feet. "Julian," she says, with a slight nod.
He folds his arms. Going to make you do the talking, his eyes say. She refuses to let this bother her. She has a duty—a responsibility—a mission to carry out. She can't fail.
"I know we didn't part on the best of terms—" she begins.
"We didn't part on any terms," he corrects.
Laura sighs. "Look, I had my reasons."
"Whatever." He pauses. "I don't know why I even acknowledged you. You're such a waste of my time."
"That's not true." She tries to sound confident.
"Please." He smirks. "You're only making a fool of yourself. I'm not interested in you anymore."
The words are painful, but it's more of a dull ache than a fresh stab. Laura has always known he would try to hurt her if she returned, and so she is prepared, mentally psyched for his attempts. The thing that bothers her is the neutral way he's speaking. Maybe he really is over her, over it all.
"I didn't—Julian, you know I wouldn't just expect you to fall right in line," she says. "But I hoped that maybe we could—I don't know. Maybe be friends again, at some point."
"Sorry. I might have awful taste in women, but my taste in friends is…put it this way. You don't meet the standards."
"I didn't say right away." Laura arches her eyebrows. "I know we have a lot to catch up on—"
"Well, I'm saying never." Julian unfolds his arms. "You're not a part of my life anymore. You could die, and I wouldn't care. I wouldn't notice. I have my own situation now…I've learned to live with events that you weren't here for."
"I know." She pauses. "What've you been up to?"
He blinks, conflicted with his desire to shun her and his enjoyment of speaking about his own accomplishments, just as Laura had known he would be. It's a good shot, and they both know it. For a moment, Julian looks annoyed, and she thinks he won't bite.
"Teaching," he says finally. "And getting way more powerful."
"I can see that," she says. "I always thought you were going to be the next big thing."
His eyes narrow, and she knows it's coming. "Seeing someone, too."
"So I hear." Laura refuses the give him the reaction he's looking for.
"Speaking of which…I've got to go." He grins at her, without any warmth. "She has something planned for tonight. I think she might be cooking, and she's got some serious skills..." he trails off, implying that he's not just talking about food preparation.
Laura raises her eyebrows. She shouldn't. Oh, but it's tempting.
"I've gotten pretty good at cooking myself, lately," she says.
He raises his eyebrows, and she can see she's surprised him a little. "You're seeing someone?"
"Every day," she replies. "It's pretty serious, I'd say. A lifetime commitment."
Julian looks uncertain, for the first time during this encounter. His eyes flicker down to her hands—to check for a ring.
"Any day now, I'd imagine." She pauses. "Guess he really likes my cooking." This isn't really stretching the truth. Oh, the truth. If only he knew.
"Well…" he clears his throat. "Good for you, I guess. But I really don't know why we're talking…I don't want to see you again, and I'm not interested in what you're doing."
"Noted." Laura nods slightly.
"Do me a favor and don't talk to me again," he says. "I won't acknowledge you anyway…but it'll spare the both of us an awkward situation."
"Whatever you say."
She watches him head down the hallway, and purses her lips.
…
"How'd it go?" Logan grunts, after letting his clone into his apartment quarters.
She hangs her head. "It didn't."
The older man sighs, runs a hand through his hair. "Like I said, I think he's happy now. With his new squeeze."
"How long have they been seeing each other?" she asks.
"Little less than a year now."
Laura blinks. "Are you serious?" she asks.
"Yep." Her adopted father moves behind the bar. "Pick your poison, sweetheart."
"Just a beer," Laura says.
He raises his eyebrows. "Not stayin'?"
"No."
"Kid—you can't let everything hinge on Keller like that. He's not good for you, an' you know it. You could stay here an' finish your school…or hell, if you wanna teach—"
"Logan." Laura raises her head. "I have someone else, too."
Her adopted father raises his eyebrows. "Oh really? This's gonna be good."
She says nothing.
"Well, let's hear all about this new guy," he says, in a resigned manner.
So Laura tells him.