Disclaimer: Mutant X and its associated characters, locales, etc. are the property of Tribune Entertainment et al. and no copyright or other legal infringement is intended by the writing of this story. However, this story and all non-canonical characters (eg. Father Awa) are my own. Please let me know if you wish to use them.
EFFECTIVE APRIL 27 2005: The lyrics to Michael W. Smith's "On the Other Side" from the album I 2 (eye) have been removed as per stated wishes of fanfiction dot net(see front page). However, they fit this story beautifully and I recommend you run a quick search on them, and have a listen to the song.
Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed! You guys are the best. Thanks for bearing with me – I'm not very good at writing the emotional stuff, and I'm trying to 'push myself' the way Lanfear always recommended. :) I hope the story doesn't suffer as a result.
Crisis of Faith – Chapter 2
By deichtine
The next Sunday, Jesse again woke up early for some private time in the dojo. Over the course of the week he had almost forgotten the incident with Brennan, and when he went out in the hall and saw no sign that Brennan was up and about, he was ready to put the incident aside and forget about it. The guy had probably just needed some space, or had a nightmare, or something. But then he heard an alarm clock going off behind Brennan's door, quickly silenced, and soon after the rushing noise of the shower.
Quickly, Jesse went up to the dojo and set the holographic display to a file he'd programmed a few months back for a practical joke he'd pulled on Adam. It projected the image of an empty, inactive dojo, effectively rendering him invisible, though he could see out.
Sure enough, not long after, Brennan appeared, finger-combing his still-wet hair and shrugging on his jacket. Jesse watched as Brennan once again looked quickly around to be sure he was unobserved, then slipped into the garage and out of Sanctuary.
Jesse turned off the concealing display and sat down in the center of the dojo, debating whether he should follow his teammate. He wanted to believe the best of Brennan, or he thought he did, but he couldn't help being suspicious. Should he tell Adam? Should he follow him? If Brennan was still leading a life of crime, he could endanger the whole team. But if, on the other hand, he was just going out for a jog, or a private walk, or (he thought more likely) to visit some girl he'd met for a morning's tryst, who was he to intrude on that?
Finally he sighed and went back to his own room for a shower. He would wait, and see what Brennan said when he came back. He would give him the benefit of the doubt. And keep his eyes open.
I confess to Almighty God
And to you, my brothers and sisters
That I have sinned through my own fault;
In my thoughts, in my words,
In what I have done, and in what I have failed to do….
Brennan spoke the words in unison with the congregation, feeling the weight of their truth. He had been reflecting on his life prior to Mutant X, and found little there to be proud of. Oh, he had been a successful criminal; that was not the issue. But every time he raised his eyes to the crucifix hanging above the altar, he felt it stir within him: the resolution to put right the wrongs he had done, as much as he could, to repay somehow the debt he owed to the people he had hurt. To be worthy of the opportunities he was being given.
Father Awa's sermon was short, but to the point; it focused on the theme of forgiveness, and how Christ was ready to forgive anyone who came to him. Brennan would have sworn the old priest was speaking directly to his heart.
Could it be true? He wondered. Could the God he knew mostly from the popular media, the God of the stern Commandments (of which he'd broken most, he was sure), the God of frowns and rules in whose name was justified so much hurtful judgment, could He truly forgive him just because he asked?
The Mass proceeded with Brennan lost in thought, and suddenly it was time for the sign of peace, that point in the Mass when the members of the congregation turn to one another and give each other a greeting of peace. Brennan shook hands with the old gentleman in front of him and the young mother on his right, then turned around – and stopped in surprise. The woman behind him, still shaking hands with the man to her left, was familiar. Why?
When she turned to face him, it clicked. The last job – the bank. He had held a gun on her, and lifted the necklace from around her neck, even as she shook with fear. And now she reached her hand out to him, smiled, and said, "Peace be with you."
He made himself accept the handshake, mumbled the response, and turned around again quickly, shaken. Had she recognized him? He had no idea. And as the rest of the congregation began to move forward for Communion, he remained in his seat, thinking, Her necklace is still in my coat pocket.
When Brennan stepped out of the Church and descended the steps, his mind was still preoccupied; he felt weighed down by the thoughts chasing each other around in his head. And so he was taken entirely by surprise when an arm was flung around his shoulders and suddenly someone was pulling him into a rough hug.
"Brennan, man, it is you! Where the hell have you been hiding?"
Brennan instinctively stiffened and twisted away from the man, landing in defensive stance, only to find himself staring into the laughing face of his old friend, Mike Azarello.
"Mike?" He said incredulously, then relaxed his stance to clasp the other man's hand in greeting.
"Where've you been, man?" Mike asked. "I haven't seen you since the day we did that job for Carter. And you wouldn't believe the stories flying around about you."
Brennan forced a little laugh. "Oh yeah?" he said, falling into step with his old friend. "What kind of stories?"
"Well, none of them make a whole lot of sense," Mike said. "Mostly they say the FBI sent a whole SWAT team after you in the skycourse, but the same people claim that there was some sort of freak lightning storm going on, and that there were people fighting with you who could leap ten feet in the air and turn intangible."
Again, Brennan forced a laugh, loud and derisive. "It was nothing quite that spectacular, I'm afraid," he said, mentally groping for a story to tell his friend. "Someone recognized me from the bank and called it in, and the police came after me. We had a pretty decent fight. They tasered me, and that put me down for awhile, but I broke away before they could get me downtown. I've been laying low ever since, hiding out. Couldn't risk contacting any of my old friends." Mike nodded in understanding. "As for the rest of it, the cat-girl and the lightning storm and the rest," Brennan snorted. "Your sources are on crack."
Mike laughed. "Yeah, I figured as much." He glanced down at his watch and swore. "Look man, I've gotta get going, gotta meet someone about a job. You want in, Brennan? The pay is sweet."
Brennan shook his head. "Nah, I don't think so. Like I said, I've gotta lay low."
"Ah, come on, that was months ago. You can't hide forever. And we really need someone like you. You're irreplaceable!"
Brennan shook his head. "No, man, really, I don't do that anymore."
Mike moved around in front of Brennan to make him stop and listen to him. "At least come and hear the plan. Then decide, okay? For me? I'm asking you as a friend, here. I need you."
Brennan looked down into the earnest brown eyes of his oldest friend, hesitated, then sighed. "Okay," he said finally. "I'll come hear you out. But I'm not promising anything. And not today; I've gotta get going."
Mike looked like he couldn't have been happier. "Perfect! What about next Sunday, about nine-thirty?"
"In the morning?" Brennan asked, surprised.
Mike shrugged and rolled his eyes. "My client is paranoid, and convinced that there's no less suspicious meeting place than a Sunday brunch at a family restaurant. Go figure. That's where I'm headed now. Next week, I'll meet you back here, and we'll go together."
Brennan nodded. "Okay."
Mike clapped him on the shoulder. "You won't regret this, man," he promised, but as he walked away, Brennan had the sinking feeling that he would indeed regret it before all was said and done.
The other members of the team were lounging in the kitchen, eating breakfast, when Brennan returned to Sanctuary.
"Morning, Brennan," Adam said, and took a sip of coffee. "You were out early this morning."
Brennan plastered on a grin and held up a paper bag from which wafted delicious smells. "Doughnut run," he announced. "I had a craving, and figured I'd bring some back here for breakfast."
Emma squeaked and reached for the bag, but Shalimar was faster, and confiscated the Boston Cream before Emma could grab the bag from her. Brennan watched them play with amusement, but Jesse was looking at him oddly.
"You were gone a little long for just a donut run, don't you think?" he asked.
Brennan stammered. "Well, I took my time, I wasn't in any hurry. What, did I miss something? Should I have checked in or something?" He flicked his gaze back and forth between Jesse and Adam, a little nervously.
Adam watched the two from over the rim of his coffee cup for a moment, then said, "No, no, that's fine. We were just a little surprised to wake up and find you gone, that's all," he said, giving Jesse a hard look. "You got any crullers in there?"
But Brennan felt Jesse's eyes on him, and knew he'd have to come up with something better next time.
Later that week, Brennan arrived back from a mission with a bad burn on his hand, and Adam insisted on bringing him down to the lab so that he could have a look at it. When he had put a soothing ointment on it and bandaged it up, he said, "You know, while I've got you down here anyway, I'd like to do a few scans."
"Aw, Adam," Brennan groaned. He had been studiously avoiding Adam's checkups, and Adam knew it.
The older man pointed a finger at him in a mock-severe authority gesture. "Shirt off, mister. It'll only take a few minutes."
Brennan sighed, took off his shirt, and lay back in the chair, staring up at the scanning equipment on the ceiling. "If I'd wanted to be a science experiment, I coulda stayed at Genomex," he grumbled, but his heart wasn't in it.
Soon Adam appeared at his side and began placing small electrode patches at strategic points on his chest. "So, how are you doing, Brennan?" he asked, and Brennan looked over at him to see his brown eyes studying him with concern.
"I'm fine, Adam. Why, is something wrong?"
The warm scanning beam flickered down over him, and Brennan couldn't help fidgeting.
"Stay still, Brennan. Shoot, I'm going to have to run that one again. No, nothing's wrong physically as far as I can see. You've just seemed a little…withdrawn these past few weeks, troubled. Is there anything you want to talk about?"
Brennan shook his head, eyes wide with sincerity. "Nope. Nothing I can think of."
"Now hold still this time. Begin scan." When the scanning glow faded, Adam returned to Brennan's side to begin removing the electrodes. His expression was still serious. "How are you getting along with the others? With Jesse?"
Brennan sat up, using the movement as an excuse to break eye contact. "Jesse's all right. The girls are great. I really don't know what you want me to say."
Adam sighed. "Okay, well, I'm not going to push. I just want you to know, whatever's troubling you, you can talk to me about it. Okay?"
Brennan pulled his shirt back over his head, wincing a little as it caught on his bandaged hand. "Okay, yeah, sure. Are we done now?" he asked.
Adam nodded. "Yeah, go on. And let that hand heal!" he called. Brennan waved to indicate he had heard, and escaped the lab.
Adam displayed the scan results on screen, but his mind wasn't really on them. Something was definitely going on with Brennan. For a street-wise criminal, he was really very obvious when he tried to be secretive. Adam wanted this team to work, but with Brennan he felt like he was running up against a brick wall.
"Brennan," he said aloud to the empty lab. "How do I get through to you?"
End Chapter 2.
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