Here we go with another chapter! My posting schedule has gone out of the window in the last couple of weeks, and my writing schedule even more, so I hope the wait wasn't too long.
"Clarice, would you mind getting me more stirrers?" Marcos asks. He's serving a customer, while Clarice has just finished wiping the last of the empty tables.
"Sure," she says, heading back to the counter. John isn't here yet, probably still at physical therapy, but Lorna is repairing one of the coffee machines that keeps overflowing, her hands shining in green light. Clarice can't help being fascinated for a moment as she watches the metal pieces move, but she shakes herself and walks into the back room.
Taking a box of stirrers off the shelf, Clarice sees a sheet of paper pinned to the wall that she's never noticed before. It's partly hidden from view by the shelves, and she wonders why anyone would put it there. It looks like a newspaper clip, and a look at the header confirms it's from one of the local papers.
Disabled veteran takes over mutant community center, she reads. Below is a black and white picture of John, sitting in a wheelchair in front of the center, with Lorna standing beside him. Clarice blinks.
She steps back out to give Marcos the stirrers, but the café is quiet and she's drawn back to the article. It's dated almost six months ago, and Clarice's eyes linger on the picture.
Mutant Marine veteran John Proudstar, who served two tours in Afghanistan before a life-changing injury ended his military career a few months ago, has made it his mission to save the mutant community center from closing, she reads. Since the last manager decided to retire after receiving threats on his life and enduring several acts of vandalism, the mutant community has feared that the center would have to close its doors. Proudstar, along with co-activist Lorna Dane, who owns a small café nearby called the Underground, has decided to take over and intends to resist any more threats. "This place is the heart of the Atlanta mutant community," he told us. "It would be a tragedy to see it close."
The article continues with details about John's military career, which Clarice only skims through. When she looks up, Lorna is standing in the door frame, watching her.
"I wondered when you'd read that," she says. "John tried to take it down when we hired you, but I wanted to keep it, so he hid it away instead."
"Why did you want to keep it?" Clarice frowns. "I mean, why here? It's about the center."
"Among other things, that mention of the café is how we got famous in the community. Mutants started to come from all over the city after that. We lost some human patrons, but it more than evened out, and the atmosphere is a lot nicer when our clientele is nearly all mutant."
"I see," Clarice says. She did notice more visible mutants coming here than she's ever seen elsewhere in the city, but it makes sense that most of the others are mutants too. It explains why she rarely gets side looks, among other things. "But..." she starts. She doesn't know how to express her thought. "For John, that photo, isn't it...now that he can walk, I mean..." she trails off, embarrassed.
"You mean seeing himself in his wheelchair could be a bad reminder?" Lorna understands.
Clarice nods sheepishly.
"It doesn't work like that," Lorna says. "He still uses the chair, for one. He can't stand for very long, so he takes it anytime we might have to walk or when he's tired. And he loves that chair. You should hear him talk about it, you'll see what I mean."
"But−"
"Look, from the outside, people tend to see wheelchairs are the symbol of disability, and disability as a bad thing. But for John, it's independence. It means he can do what he wants and needs to without help, or without being in a lot of pain. Yes, he hated it at first, because he hated not being able to walk. But...well, maybe you should talk about it with him. I won't give you a class on disability acceptance."
Clarice nods slowly. "Sorry," she says. "I didn't mean any offense."
"I know," Lorna says. "It's fine. It's better if you ask those questions directly rather than make assumptions. I just wish other people would do the same."
"You're not just talking about John, are you?" Clarice asks on a hunch. She really hopes she's not making another blunder.
Lorna looks at her for a moment, as if evaluating her.
"You might as well know, since you're here to stay," she says. "I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder at thirteen, just weeks after my powers manifested. All my friends know, but people...don't always react well."
Clarice blinks and takes a moment to take it in. "Okay," she says slowly. "I...I don't know a lot about it. I had a friend who was probably bipolar once, but they weren't formally diagnosed and it was...complicated." She realizes she's rambling needlessly and takes a breath. "Anyway, what I mean is...please tell me if I say or do something wrong?"
"Sure," Lorna smirks. "Don't worry. It can be a sensitive subject, but I'm not going to melt at the first blunder. Neither is John, by the way. Just ask him your questions."
"I don't want to be insensitive."
"Sometimes beating around the bush is worse. Which reminds me, I wanted to ask you if you have a treatment or something for your anxiety."
"No," Clarice says, frowning. "Why?"
"In case you have an attack here, so we know what to do. We try to have each other's back."
"Oh, I see," Clarice mutters. It sounds like a good idea, actually. "I don't have anything. It's kinda recent, and I didn't−"
"It's fine," Lorna waves her hand. "You don't need to explain yourself. If you do want to do something about it, though, I know a good psychiatrist."
Clarice shakes her head. "I'm good for now," she says. She's considered it many times in the last few months since her anxiety attacks started to get worse, but she's never found it in her to take that step. She's not ready. She's still hoping it will just go away on its own.
"Alright," Lorna says. "Well, just so you know, I take mood stabilizers, but they're not always enough. I don't get strong manic episodes anymore but...I don't know how my pregnancy is going to affect that, so it could get rocky."
"You don't need to tell me this," Clarice says.
"As I said, we try to have each other's back. I'd rather you know when to hold me back. The depression times are...less visible, and easier to manage in a way. I can't speak for the boys, but we'd all rather avoid making things worse for each other because we don't know what to do, so talk to John about this, at least, okay?"
Clarice nods. "I will. And Lorna? When I have a...an episode, the best is to get me away from other people. They're often triggered by...people staring at me, especially men, or anti-mutant comments, that sort of things."
"Okay," Lorna says. "Thanks. For telling me. And welcome to our little dysfunctional family," she adds with a smirk.
"Thank you," Clarice laughs. She feels oddly honored.
John limps his way through the café and up to the apartment to shower and change after his physical therapy. Shannon, his therapist, had him walk up and down without support for most of the session, and his legs feel weak and tired.
He almost takes his cane before going down, but he decides against it at the last moment, since he's only going to sit anyway. The fact that Clarice has yet to see him use his cane has nothing to do with it. Or so he tries to convince himself.
It's been almost two weeks since their date, and though they haven't yet made plans for another one, their relationship is still strong and sweet. John really likes that they're on their way to develop a real friendship before going further into the romantic side of things, and Clarice seems to agree with that wholeheartedly. They've spent time just chilling on the couch in Marcos and Lorna's apartment in the afternoons, before the café closes, just the two of them. Kissing, occasionally, but mostly getting to know each other better.
There's no line at the counter when John enter the café through the back room, so he walks up to Clarice to pick up his coffee, signaling her not to move. She often brings it to him at his table, but John feels uncomfortable being treated differently from the other customers. Marcos and Lorna already refuse that he pay for anything, so he might as well not make Clarice work extra for him.
"Hi," she smiles when he gets close. She frowns slightly at his uneven gait. "Are you okay?"
"I'm good," John says, smiling back. "Just an intense session this morning."
"You didn't have to come down," Marcos says, looking at him over Clarice's shoulder while he pours another coffee.
"I know," John answers. "I'm fine, I just need to get off my feet for a bit. I can do that here just as well. That way I get to see your beautiful face," he adds for Clarice.
She beams at him and laughs. "You mean you can watch me run around and sweat while you put your feet up."
"Exactly," John smirks. He picks up his coffee and starts to move to his table. A group of their friends, consisting of Sonya, Sage and Pedro, are just getting up to leave and he waves at them.
"Johnny!" Sonya exclaims, coming up to him to kiss his cheek. "We need to talk about who's handling youth activities for the next few Saturdays. I just accepted this big project and I won't be able to come."
"Sure," John answers. "Can we do that tonight after my class?"
"Okay. I'll see you then."
Sage just nods at John, and Pedro shakes his hand.
"Hey, Pedro, can I ask you something?" John flags down the other man before he can leave.
"John? What is it?"
"Do you−" John hesitates, unsure how to put it. "Do you know which restaurants around here are fully mutant-friendly?"
Pedro frowns. "You mean for people like me," he understands. "Visible mutants. Is this about Clarice? You too are going out, right?"
"Yeah, uh, we got kicked out of a place the other day. I just don't want to repeat the experience."
"So you're asking me. For a place to take her on a date."
John looks at him closely, afraid he's offended him, but Pedro is actually smiling in amusement.
"I suppose I am, yes."
Pedro thinks for a moment. "It might be more complicated than you'd think," he says. "The only places truly safe are mutant-run, and this here is the only food place I know in town. I have a couple of fast-food places I know are fine with me, but actual restaurants? I can give you a bunch of clubs and bars, though."
"I might come back to you for those, but I'm looking for something for dinner," John says.
"I don't think I can help you. Sorry, mate. I can always come in and scare everyone away next time you'll get bothered though."
John laughs. "Right. I'd rather avoid a next time, if it's alright with you."
"Suit yourself. But if you're dating a visible mutant, it's bound to happen again," Pedro shrugs.
"I know," John says. "Thank you."
Pedro nods and leaves, waving an adios at Marcos on the way.
John sighs. He still has no idea where to take Clarice, and he doesn't just want to take his chances somewhere and risk getting thrown out again. He doesn't want to put Clarice through that again.
He's lived through plenty of discrimination himself, though neither his mutant or his Native status are obvious at first sight. Back in his hometown, when out of the reservation proper, his cheap and threadbare clothes told more about where he came from than the color of his skin, but he got kicked out of plenty of places anyway. But since becoming an adult, it's always been more subtle. Humans in the Marines going out of their way not to be assigned with mutants. People looking at him sideways after shaking his hand. Rumors and murmurs where they think he can't hear them. The waves of hate he got after publicly taking over the center, the mutant-haters who came to break the windows too many times.
And, recently, steps in front of a building. Cars parked on the sidewalk. Feet that kick his cane out from under him. Pitying looks and sad voices who won't talk to him directly.
But because he's human-passing, white-passing, and a large, tall man, he doesn't go through the surge of fear that Clarice described to him. He has plenty of hypervigilance of his own, but it doesn't come from fear of being attacked every time he meets someone new.
Sitting down at his usual table, sipping his coffee, John observes Clarice move behind the counter for a while. She seems perfectly at ease here. She's truly becoming a part of their little family, quicker than John ever imagined. And John is falling for her harder than he thought he was capable of, after Pulse's death.
"Should I wake him up?" Clarice asks Marcos, nodding toward John's shape, nodding off in his chair. His head is resting on his crossed arms across his laptop's keyboard.
"He must be very tired to fall asleep in here," Marcos remarks. The 10 a.m. crowd has gone to leave a lull before lunch, but the café is never truly quiet. "But yes, this position is probably not good for his back."
Clarice nods and approaches John. He doesn't seem to hear her, which is a first, so she gently shakes his shoulder.
John jumps and jerks his head up, immediately alert. For a second, there's a haunted look in his eyes, and his breathing picks up. Clarice removes her hand from his arm quickly. She can pinpoint the moment he reins himself in and registers her face and the café around them.
"Hey," she says. "We thought you might want to go back upstairs before you really fall asleep."
John looks at her, then beyond her at Marcos, and nods. "Thanks," he says, embarrassed. "I must be more tired than I thought."
"Are you really okay?" Clarice frowns.
"Yeah," John reassures her. "PT was hard, and I didn't sleep well last night, that's all. You're right, I should go get some rest."
"Alright," Clarice nods. She looks at her watch. "I still have about an hour to go before my lunch break," she says. "But maybe I could join you upstairs when I'm free?"
Clarice, Marcos and Lorna usually take their breaks one after the other so there's always someone manning the counter, so Clarice would otherwise have her lunch on her own in the back room.
"Sounds nice," John says. He puts his laptop away in his bag, and stands up. He winces in pain, nearly falling back down onto his chair.
"I'm okay," he raises his hands, anticipating Clarice's concern. He pulls a pill bottle out of his pocket and pops a couple of tablets in his mouth, dry-swallowing. "My legs didn't agree with PT this morning, but I'll be fine. Just hope this gets easier before my class tonight."
"Can't someone else handle your class if it doesn't?"
"Lorna usually does it, but the kids always say it's not as good with her," John smirks. "She has plenty of patience for martial arts, but apparently not so much for learning to control powers."
"Still, if you're too tired−"
"I'll be alright," John promises. "Don't worry about me."
"Okay," Clarice relents. She moves back to let him walk to the back door. His gait is still hesitant, but he doesn't look ready to fall down, so she swallows back her concern.
"Don't worry about him too much," Lorna says from behind her, making her jump. Clarice hadn't noticed her coming closer. "Despite all appearances to the contrary, he does know how to take care of himself. He won't go tonight if he's not sure he can handle the kids."
"Thank you," Clarice smiles at her. "That's actually reassuring."
"He's not getting away with calling me impatient, though. All the patience in the world wouldn't be enough to handle a bunch of teenagers determined to do anything but listen!"
Clarice laughs. "Are they really that much of a handful?"
"Maybe not with John. He started that class back when he was still in quite a lot of pain, so they learned early on what they should and shouldn't do with him. And they can be fairly disciplined when they want to be. I guess they just don't like me subbing for him."
"Maybe you're just not good-looking enough," Clarice jokes, looking Lorna up and down.
"Hey, there are plenty of boys in that class!" Lorna pretends to be offended.
"So what?" Clarice smirks. "Boys aren't allowed to prefer John?"
Poor John is really tired and in pain. The reason will become apparent in the next chapter.
Not much happening in this chapter, just sweet little scenes and bounding. This story is turning out to be a lot of that.
Just a note: Clarice has been generally very good about John's disability, but she's doesn't really know how to do things. In this chapter, she's thinking of John using a wheelchair as a 'bad' thing (in that it makes her feel for him, but actually saying it is a little callous), and right after that when Lorna tells her she's bipolar she starts rambling about the friend she had who also was, and it really brings nothing to the conversation. There's a joke going around, I believe it started in the Deaf community, that says "when I tell you I'm disabled, don't start telling me about your neighbor's deaf dog." It's a good guideline, people.
Aside from that, I really love where this budding Clarice/Lorna friendship is going. What do you think?