Perv, Pixie, Protector
By Mice
Chapter 11: Trisha Ruby Jean
-Colorado-
There was sun above with thicker looking clouds until it was eclipsed with Dior leather boots.
"This field is too muddy for white."
"Then it's too brown for you to lay in."
Annie let out a grunt and felt closer to the ground. Then she felt the grass shift next to her as Emma laid down.
"He pieced me back together voluntarily. I always thought that was a bit demoralizing. Like I would be impressed that he could put together a Rubik's cube instead of a diamond's carats."
"Hank is a good guy."
"I would have been able to restructure eventually, given time. I could do it with Bobby's body, I knew I could do it to mine. But diamond is harder to manipulate than ice. And it proved more difficult with someone rubbing his hands in diamond dust because…" Emma paused and stared into the thick sky with disappointed eyes, "He's such a good guy."
Annie took in a long breath. "He thinks you're very thankful for that."
"I'm aware. Like I'm aware that Warren is getting out his favorite wine to celebrate his friend not dying and we both are lying on earth. I trust Warren's tastes. So, what did Hank do to you?"
"Nothing. He was my teacher."
"Diana, I am a teacher. I ran an academy. I found and nurtured talent without Cerebro's help."
"You didn't find me. Nobody did. Except Hank who doesn't even have telepathy."
"Hank is not known for his protégés."
"Maybe I could be different? I could give him that and I could be…just…really ridiculously successful?"
"You own an apple orchard in France. Are you not aware of how successful you are?"
"I hadn't thought of that."
"You left your hometown to travel with strangers. Why?"
"Because I promised myself anyway out, I would get out. Like my mom. Sure, she was an assassin, but she was one in New York City. She made it work. And she came from where I did. Even if I died like her, it would have been worth it to just try."
"And if they had been murderers?"
"I'd seen Hank on tv. He seemed nice."
"Are you an intuitive?"
"Obviously not. I base decisions on the odds."
"I ask myself what could go right."
"Then what?"
"Then I go for best."
"I go for what I can get."
"Then you'll never ever near your best."
"I am what I am. A hick whose best trait is looking with hope at someone she thinks is the most sophisticated man she's ever met."
"I disagree. You did go for the best…given your situation and the odds."
"I guess."
"You were engaged to Sean Cassidy."
"And I feel like that has to be said because everyone loves Sean because he lost Moira and Mauve. But he beat me. I don't care if he played piano for you once late at night. He shoved my head through a wall and then patched it up like it solved things."
"A lot of rumors went around when we ran the Massachusetts Academy. But it was never going to happen. Because I could feel his temper and it would just flicker so bright for just a second and it would be red hot in my mind. But then it would be calm. I don't like odds like that."
"Drinking didn't help. And nobody else did because he's Sean Cassidy."
"I mean, someone must have taken you aside and asked about how you felt being stepmother to someone older than you?"
"…not quite phrased that way? Is Terry older than me? I thought I was older by at least a few years…?"
"Did you know what happened to Vera?"
"In gruesome detail, yes."
"That she turned punk?"
"…that she was, uhm, do you know who Emily Clay-Poole was?"
"Nobody does, dear."
"She was a doctor who went after Hank's ex-girlfriends. That's how I got unwanted surgery."
Emma remembered a fax.
"I can see turning punk would be a deal breaker for Hank, though. He is not kind on Chrissie Hynde. And has no idea who Poly Styrene was."
"The only Iggy Pop song he likes is "Real Wild Child" because it's on the "Pretty Woman" soundtrack."
"And he doesn't even like that song! His favorite is -"
"Roxette?"
"Not on the soundtrack. It's "King of Wishful Thinking". He says he feels like the captain of a sailboat when he listens to it."
"Of course he is a sailboat guy."
"Aren't they all? And I'm really interested in your advice as you are a mind reader and can confirm better than most."
"Some can never be a sailboat scout. It requires discipline and unfathomable faith. Hank would be someone I classify as a book boy. You think he's worth it because he let's you know that he is into books and that's all you should need."
"What would I be?"
"You are a horse girl."
"No, those girls are disciplined, no matter the circumstances. Their life is going to the stable and taking care of the horse. I could barely get up in the morning."
"How about now?"
"I do better."
"You got better. That's not the sign of someone who is predisposed to failure. And you own horses now."
"I wanna be a cowgirl. I know you know the difference."
"Someone who'd steal a horse rather than own one. Make their own law."
"It would be really nice to decide what I would like as opposed to seeing what are the best odds and following that."
"That's why you run."
"Because I never end up anywhere where the odds couldn't be better."
"Even now?"
"I have land in Europe and I'm lying on dirt in Colorado. Clock seems to be ticking. I've still never been out of the country. Or space. As someone affiliated with the X-Men for years, I feel this is a failure."
Emma laid still, almost afraid to breathe. "Which would you rather?"
"Space or country? Honestly, baby steps. Let's just go to another country. I don't think I was ever cut out for big adventures."
"Someone told you that."
"A lot of people told me that. Sometimes, I wonder what would happen if I just never wanted to change and if I could have accepted being a…you know."
"Nobody."
"I don't think I'm great. But I'm not dirt underneath anyone's feet. And I feel guilty for thinking that. Emma, what is it like not to care what other people think?"
"The trick is to be able to know just how many nobodies there are out there. You don't need telepathy for that, to be honest. There are so many dimwits out there that when you find someone with potential, it can strike you like lightning. Or it could just be a useful candle at night. And that's what's hard. Feeling so many nobodies lie to themselves about how they are a gift. Meanwhile, those that are electrifying feel guilty for thinking they could achieve being average. Your insecurity is toxic."
Emma had thought that she could break patterns. Tell someone enough truth about themselves and they would worship you for being so wise. Men loved this and then demanded compliments. Women tended not talk to her kindly afterward. This was another reason why her female friend count was very low.
"I never thought of it that way. I just thought I was being safe."
"You're not going to call me rude?"
"I think you're cool. And maybe that's toxic. My therapist says that since my family manipulated me as a kid, I don't trust women. But I trust you. Even though you shouldn't trust cool girls. But what if you're the one I could?"
Emma wasn't used to easy trust. If you're a beautiful, distracting woman, people are as wary of you as they are gauging their odds of achieving lewd conduct. As a telepath, more suspicion. Taking over Bobby's body wasn't personal, but he had seen it that way. Survival wasn't personal. Observing how little of his power he flexed and the status he received made her curious. It wasn't typical skating on charm she had seen in other young men. Had that not been a moment of survival, perhaps Emma could have given a gift later on.
"Diana, how would you like you are enough for the rest of the day?"
"How?"
"Don't you trust me?"
Annie turned to look at Emma, covered in patches of brown instead of monochromatic white. Just two cowgirls in a field. "I reckon."