Laura contacts the team on Thanksgiving, offering a message of happy holidays, and reports that she was following an F.O.H lead in San Francisco. "How is Josh?" she asks.
The room is silent.
"He doesn't remember the last eight years," Cessily says eventually. "It's something about tissue damage in his brain. He's still a teenager, in his mind."
"That's unfortunate," Laura says after a brief silence on her end. "It's very difficult to recover memories lost through tissue damage. Do you know what tools were used to inflict the damage?"
"Christ, Laura!" Victor cries.
"Stainless steel," Sooraya says. "They were using standard surgeon's tools."
"And some," Noriko mutters darkly.
"Julian?" Laura says, "What's your assessment of Josh?"
Everyone turns to Julian, who's slouched in his seat at the meeting room, arms crossed and drumming his fingers on his arm. He shrugs. "Physically healthy, mentally bewildered?" he offers. "Look, I dunno. He's pissed because he's out of time and expects everyone to be as immature as him."
"Julian…" Megan sighs.
He shrugs again. "He just wants to be left alone," he says. "And I think we should." He says calmly.
"Alright. I'll check in again in three days," Laura says. "I have to go, but one more thing: is Josh aware of his life after leaving the X-Men in two-thousand nine?"
"Christ no," Julian snaps, "And it's gonna fucking stay like that," he glares around the room.
"Someone make sure Quire knows," Santo snorts.
"And Ruth," Cessily says, looking thoughtful.
"Are we done here?" Julian asks loudly.
"Yes," Laura says, "Good-bye," She hangs up, and the dial tone fills the room until Santo turns the speaker off and ends the call from their end.
"I'm out of here," Julian says, "I've got business to take care of. I'll see you all at dinner." He stands and exits the room swiftly.
Cessily sighs loudly. "Okay, what's the plan on Josh?"
"What plan?" Santo says.
"Josh has only been leaving his room for meals for the past four days," Sooraya explains.
"He seemed to get along with Quentin pretty well the other day," Victor says, "Do you think we could get Quentin to talk to him? He's, like, one of us that Josh doesn't remember enough to feel weird talking to."
"Quire's got his charms," Noriko says, grimacing, "But his level of immaturity might just resonate with a teenage Josh. If he's still like how I remember, that is."
"I'll tell Quentin," Megan says, rolling her eyes.
"I think that concludes this meeting," Cessily says, standing.
Everyone else clambers to their feet as well and they all dismiss themselves from the room.
Julian knows he's only working to keep his mind from wandering. He's got a full week off, but he's still making calls from his guest room, talking to lawyers, speaking to CEOs about funding charity events for the outreach program.
It's only once a school-wide telepathic message goes out calling everyone to dinner that Julian emerges from his room.
The school has always made a thing of holiday meals; there's a student committee in charge of planning out the different ones that students have called for –Halloween, first day of the Lunar New Year, suhoor and iftar (all optional, of course), et cetera. Thanksgiving is no different, with the tables in the cafeteria pushed into several long rows and actual table settings out to mark each spot for a student to sit.
There's a smaller table for staff, and when Julian arrives, he briefly sees Josh sitting next to Hank, deep in conversation, before Cessily appears, grabbing him by the arm. "Help us get all the food on the table before more of the kids arrive," she says frantically. "Everything in the kitchens, just make sure there's no double up dishes on the table. God it?"
"You mean 'got it'?"
Cessily pauses. "No. Make miracles happen,"
Julian rolls his eyes and heads toward the kitchens, where others are already at work, preparing and organizing dishes to be carried out.
Ruth is defiantly carving up one of the turkeys, pausing thoughtfully every once in a while before striking with great precision. Everyone has long given up on trying to stop her from doing as she pleases, and Julian goes over to where Bobby Drake is merrily dumping bread rolls from a baking tray into small baskets to be set out along each table.
Julian is instructed to spread three baskets across each table and he sees the baskets out the kitchen, leaning against the doorway as he sets them down on the tables. The soaring food draws the attention of those who have already seated themselves and a couple of the students cheer.
The food is set out within the next ten minutes, still steaming and filling the air with savory scents just as the bulk of the student body staying at the school for the holidays arrive in the cafeteria.
Julian takes an open seat at the staff table as far away from Josh as he can manage, and he ends up sitting between Bobby and Piotr and across from Rogue. They seem a little surprised to see him and he shrugs in a what can you do sort of way.
Kitty stands up to make a speech –something about everyone from all around the world coming together at school and taking the opportunity to give thanks to all the good things in life. Julian isn't really listening, fidgeting with the tablecloth in front of him.
"Lastly, I would like to welcome Miss Emma Frost and the students joining us today from Charles Xavier's," Kitty is saying when he tunes back in, "And I would like to welcome back an old friend many of us have dearly missed –Josh Foley. I am so grateful for having the opportunity to get to know every one that is here today. With that –dig in and enjoy," She grins widely and goes back to her seat on Piotr's other side amidst enthusiastic applause.
Julian's gaze snaps over to Josh, and honestly, it's not something he thinks he can help, and when he does look, he's looking for gold skin and white hair and –and he doesn't find it.
Josh is scrubbing a hand over his face, seemingly embarrassed by whatever Hank is telling him. Julian can't make it out over the din of the students and the clinking of dishes and silverware.
He turns back to his own meal, which currently consists of an empty plate, and begins helping himself to green beans. It takes him a moment to realize he's being addressed.
"You know," Bobby's saying, "It's not actually every day that we get someone back."
Julian glances sideways. "Oh yeah?"
On his other side, Piotr agrees: "You may feel that it is better to keep a distance right now, but you will find that that isn't so,"
"He doesn't remember…" Julian shakes his head. "He remembers that we don't get along. And we don't, not right now."
He can practically feel the significant looks that are being passed around the table, and he ignores them because dammit, he knows he's reading this right. He wouldn't be alive if he couldn't do something as simple as read body language. He snorts and shovels more food onto his plate.
He's left to eat in silence for a moment until Rogue demands his attention, asking about the Outreach Program and whether he's been coordinating with the offices in San Francisco for their winter holiday event. It takes his mind… not off anything in particular, but as he gets into discussion with Rogue, and eventually most of the X-Men sitting around him about the program, he doesn't have time to 'wallow in his thoughts', as Cessily would put it.
Julian gets roped into help bringing out the desert (several different flavored pies), and once they're on the table, he excuses himself and slips outside for a smoke.
And that's where he's huddled in the courtyard, attempting to get his lighter to ignite, when the door slides open and someone else emerges.
Julian glances sideways at Josh, who looks surprised to see him. Figures it's him.
"I needed some air," Josh says, "I'll leave."
Julian waves a hand at him. "S'all right," he says around the cigarette in his mouth. The lighter finally sputters out a flame for him. Inhale, exhale. Smoke billows out into the cold autumn air and Julian begins to feel calmer for it. He glances sideways again and sighs. "I'll leave, if you want time by yourself."
"No," Josh says quickly, "It's fine."
Julian shrugs and they fall into silence. For all his acts of nonchalance, Julian can feel his heart thumping away, growing more excitable, and he hopes Josh can't sense it. He might have been able to –before. "Happy Thanksgiving," he says after a moment.
"I remembered something, yesterday," Josh blurts out. He looks a little jumpy, and it dawns on Julian that he's missing the defensive attitude Josh's always had –used to have? –around him. His eyes are wide and –and blue. Panicky. Blue. Hair blond, eyes blue. Christ.
"Oh yeah?" Julian says finally, a forced calm in his voice.
"It might've been a dream or –or a memory? Hank said it sounded like a memory. It's not much," Josh babbles, "I think it was San Francisco. A pier –and you were waiting for someone on a bench. I… never mind." He's looking away now, frowning.
Julian stares at the little crease between Josh's eyebrows. He puffs on his cigarette for a while, but even that doesn't seem to ease the fluttering in his stomach. "Did I have a lunchbox?" he says.
Josh startles. "What?"
"A lunchbox. Did I have a lunchbox with me on the bench?"
There's wonder in his voice when Josh answers: "Yeah. It was Spider-man themed. How do you remember?"
"Lucky guess," Julian says. He remembers alright. "That's a memory, by the way. It was something like… Five or six years ago."
Josh grabs Julian's arm, which is enough of a surprise that Julian drops his cigarette (again, dammit).
Julian flinches under Josh's touch, unused to such prolonged contact, and he yanks his arm out of grasp. "What the hell?"
"Why were we in California?" Josh demands. "Why were you there?"
"I lived there for a while," Julian says stiffly. "I was on a …sabbatical. I don't know why you went there." He hesitates and adds, "We shared a flat for a while. Split the rent." It was the truth.
Josh's eyes narrow, but he seems more confused than suspicious. Even so, his tone is biting when he asks, "Why would I voluntarily live with you?"
Julian snaps back. "I'm not going to pretend to know what the hell goes through your mind," he says icily, even though he knows the frustration that's coming through in Josh's voice. He's felt that sort of confused helplessness before. "Look, you're obviously regaining some sort of memories. You can piece it together yourself."
Josh glowers. "Hank doesn't think I'll necessarily get it all back. Dammit! Why can't someone just fill me in?"
Julian snorts. "That'd be too easy," he mutters, mostly to himself.
Josh makes some sort of vague gesture with his hands and steps forward. "Come on. Quentin said he could find the memories, but you heard them the other day. They picked my brain –literally. You can just tell me what happened"
"-no," Julian says, feeling a lump forming in his throat.
Josh riles up in anger, brows pushed together, mouth in an angry twist. "Why not?" he says. "I don't even care if you can't tell me everything –I don't even need details."
"You're better off this way," Julian says. A small voice in his head is telling him that he ought to just shut up soon.
"You don't get to decide that," Josh argues. "C'mon. I'm starting to lose my freakin' mind here. I need to know where the last eight years of my life have gone."
"Ask someone else." Julian says.
"I'm asking you,"
"Well fucking don't," Julian says. No, he's yelling. He's definitely yelling.
Josh looks briefly shocked, and then he's back to glaring. "What's your problem, dude? I have a right to my own freakin' memories, don't I?" He takes a vindictive step forward, which is exactly what Julian does not want.
He steps back and his back touches brick wall. This isn't fucking fair. Josh is losing his mind? Julian's a dozen words away from possibly having some sort of panic attack, which is just –which is just not cool. He meets Josh's eyes and they're a paler blue than his own and they're just wrong, but there's… there's something in the way they seem to flash with anger that seems familiar.
"You know, I still don't get why everyone seems to think you're such a big deal. Obviously, you're still an irrational douchebag, but from all accounts you've been where I've been for at least a couple of years before I apparently died and" –Josh cuts himself off suddenly, eyes going wide with realization. "Hold on." He says, and steps back, staring at Julian, looking him up and down with utter shock in his expression. "Were we…"
Julian stares up at the darkened sky. He does not need this right now. Or possibly ever. He can't do this confrontation.
Josh laughs humorlessly, "Were we friends?"
And it feels something like getting a bucket of cold water dumped over his head. Julian opens and closes his mouth, floundering, because it's yes and it's no and it's just so much more than that. He swallows and finally manages a weak, "Guess you figured it out."
Josh stares at Julian for a long time, mouth open in an 'O'of surprise.
Julian just focuses on trying to breathe, to make his inhales and exhales steady. He watches the air frost in front of him and he shivers a little. Laughter from inside comes through the doors muffled and distant, and the light from the building only spills past them into the courtyard for a couple of feet.
"So you don't mind that I was a Reaper?" Josh says finally, still puzzled.
"No onecares," Julian says. Then he adds sharply, "Stop staring at me like that."
"But you said…"
"I know what I said," Julian says, "But I was sixteen years old for Christ's sake. I didn't care after like a week, okay? But I was too much of a shit to apologize for being a dick to you, so I just kept going at it."
"Apologize?" Josh echoes, looking well and truly lost for the first time in all the days he's been around. He'd looked less puzzled when Megan had been showing him how to navigate her iPhone during dinner.
"Yes," Julian says stiffly. "I'm…sorry."
They stare at each other for a while, silence stretching between them.
"Does this mean you'll tell me what happened?" Josh says.
"I'm going inside." Julian says immediately, turning for the door as Josh mutters an incredulous "seriously?" from behind him.
Julian stalks through the cafeteria where only half of the crowd is still lingering, chatting over now empty plates. He sees Santo nudge Victor as he passes by and grits his teeth, knowing this must mean Josh is trailing after him.
He takes the stairs to avoid being stuck in the elevator with him, and attempts to outrun Josh on the way to his room. It doesn't work, judging by the sound of footsteps behind him. Christ, he's screwed. Julian whirls around so suddenly Josh nearly walks right into him. "What can I do to make you leave me alone?" he blurts out.
Josh actually looks hurt. Fuck. "Why are you avoiding me in the first place?" he asks, clenching his fists at his sides and turning to frustrated anger. "You just said we were friends again, and if that's true, I don't see why you won't at least act like it."
And maybe it's because Julian really isn't used to people actually pursuing him anymore when he's made it clear a subject has been dropped, but he can feel his own anger bubbling to the surface, like it's been repressed all this time. Maybe it fucking has. "We're not friends," he snaps, "You and I are not. Friends. I am friends with you in about three years, alright? When we're both fucked up –that's when I'm fucking friends with you. Alright? I'm not going to tell you a damn thing because they're not your memories to have. I'll tell you and you'll tuck that knowledge away somewhere and you won't give a damn because you haven't lived through any of what has made the rest of us who we are today. Fuck, even the kids here remember M-Day and Utopia –on the goddamn news. You don't know anything."
"But I want to!" Josh shouts back.
"NO YOU DON'T," Julian roars. "You've been dead four years! Four fucking years, I've been visiting your grave in the garden. I buried you, you fucker"
"-You can't seriously blame me for"
"-I'm the reason you're dead!" Julian says shrilly. Why doesn't he just get it? Why the hell does he insist on having anything to do with Julian, especially when he doesn't remember anything? Old rage and bitterness is flowing through Julian freely now. Everything he's been pushing away with work and smoking and ignoring what's happening around him –it's all coming back to him, old wounds that can no longer hold themselves together. To his horror, his throat seems to constrict and hot tears prickle in his eyes. In his attempt to fight them back, it takes him a moment to realize that there hasn't been a response.
Josh is staring at him with a shaken look. "I'm not dead, Julian," he says slowly. "I'm not."
Julian is torn. He wants to get far, far away –as far as possible –and he wants to reach out and touch Josh, but he thinks it might burn him. He thinks he might just fucking break if he touches Josh now, when there's so much blasted concern in his eyes that are too goddamn blue. He'll crumple and possibly never get up again.
Julian feels himself shaking his head. He can't do this. He thinks if he runs now, he might get out of this. Josh will give up if he runs now, and he'll go back to Manhattan or possibly transfer to San Francisco and they'll probably never really talk again.
Before he really has the chance to turn away, though, Josh reaches out and takes one of his hands, and Julian can't feel it except for a faint tug against the telekinetic hold he has on the gauntlet, but he shudders anyway, and completely fails to pull away.
"You didn't kill me," Josh says softly, earnestly. "And I think I would care… if you told me"
-Julian does step away then, looking away. "Ask Cessily or Megan." He mutters. And then he does turn away and his footsteps seem loud and heavy as he walks away.
Six Years Earlier, San Francisco…
Julian stumbles into the apartment, bone tired and moody and smelling like grease and coffee from the diner, and he's surprised to find Elixir standing in the kitchen making something that smells really good.
"Hey," he says from the doorway. "You're here."
Elixir glances over his shoulder. "Oh. Yeah. It's Sunday, remember? I don't work."
Julian goes over and peers down at what Elixir has made. It's stir fry –or something. "You're usually out by now, though…" he says.
Elixir nudges him back and turns off the stove. "It's nearly nine and I actually just got in like two hours ago." He says. "Get a plate and stop drooling, dude," he adds, smirking.
They eat on the floor by Elixir's bed because despite all other home improvements, they still don't have a table.
Elixir's wearing an overlarge gray t-shirt and sweats, looking more relaxed than Julian can remember ever seeing him. For his part, Julian is still wearing his striped uniform shirt with his nametag pinned over the left breast pocket.
"This is good," Julian comments into the silence. "Where did you learn to cook?"
Elixir chews slowly. "Home Ec,"he says with a shrug. "I can sew and stuff, too,"
"That's helpful I guess," Julian says lamely.
"I'm surprised you haven't died from eating junk food," Elixir says.
Julian frowns, although it's rather ineffective considering he's just stuffed his mouth with a forkful of various vegetables and noodles. He chews quickly and swallows so he can protest; "I eat, like, salad. Sometimes,"
Elixir shakes his head in mock disappointment, which earns him a telekinetic cuff over the head. "Hey!" he complains.
Julian sticks out his tongue and sees the mischievous look on Elixir's face in time to put aside his plate before Elixir launches himself across the space between them. He's still got enough memory of X-Men training to roll back with the attack and pin Elixir on the ground, a knee pressed against his sternum and gauntlets holding down Elixir's arms by the wrists. He grins down at Elixir smugly.
Elixir is laughing, which makes Julian think he might have planned this all along, and he says, "Give up?"
Elixir nods, still snorting with laughter, "Uncle, uncle," he says. "Well it looks like you haven't gone completely soft,"
Julian rolls his eyes and then rolls them again for good measure. "As if," he says, and makes a mental commitment to check out cheap gyms in the area, especially if he suspects Elixir might take to surprise attacks, which he does.
Elixir sighs loudly, "Um, you can get off now," he reminds Julian, who blinks and scrambles back quickly.
Elixir sits up with an exaggerated groan and looks around. "I should turn in," he says, "I've got to get up early tomorrow."
"You don't work until seven,"
"Ah, but I have appointments all day," Elixir says breezily.
"Right," Julian snorts. "Where do you work anyway?" He vividly recalls glittery white hair.
"A nightclub," Elixir shrugs. "It's very… out there. I wait tables, but there's a show most nights and… glitter," He sees Julian's growing grin and scowls, "Hey, it pays, okay? Not everyone can balance, like, six fucking jobs. And how's that going, by the way? You always look like something the cat dragged in."
"We don't have a cat," Julian says.
"Maybe we should get one,"
Julian snorts so deeply it hurts. "It'd die in a week."
"Would not," Elixir insists.
"Are we seriously talking about getting a cat?"
"Christ, I dunno. I'm going to get ready for bed," Elixir stands and gathers their dishes.
"Leave 'em in the sink," Julian calls after him. "I'll do it."
There's no reply, but he Elixir does as he says and then pads over to the bathroom, where Julian hears water running. His eyes are beginning to droop shut by the time Elixir emerges and he's reluctant to get up, but eventually drags himself to his feet at Elixir's insistence and goes off to wash up for bed.
He passes Elixir's mattress on the way to his room, and he appears to be asleep under a bundle of blankets, which makes it a surprise when he turns off the lights of the main room and hears a soft, "'Night, Keller,"
He stands there in the dark for a moment, caught off guard by the sentiment. He hasn't been bid a goodnight in some time. "Goodnight," he whispers finally, and he shuffles off to his room and doesn't bother closing the door behind him.
