Prayer of the Refugee

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Chapter o12

"In an hour then," she bade him farewell and left him alone. He rolled over, but couldn't seem to get comfortable again. The lot of all this was unsettling, the way he was being treated here…

With Magneto he had never really been disallowed to do anything, had been left to himself. This place had rules, sure, but from what he gathered, they might not have so much have been rules as stressed suggestions for the most part, and he'd had more regular personal contact with people the past three days than he had in the past three months. Things here were… different.

For the most part, people seemed to skitter out of his way here, just as anywhere else, but until now he hadn't been completely sure if it was sonly because of him or partially Natalya that they immediately cast their eyes downwards and scampered away. For all appearances the Russian seemed very friendly, very charming, but she had quite a bit of power that she was fully capable of using, and such things tended to keep people skittish. By the wide-eyed stares, it was obvious who among them recognized the green mutant for who he was.

He gave up trying to get comfortable again, and got up to take a shower.

If nothing else, having Natalya flirting with him and that kid TecH fawning over him all yesterday, he was feeling thoroughly ill at ease. This kind of treatment was something foreign, and he wasn't sure if he liked it.

Natalya re-appeared in exactly an hour to more or less collect him. While he heard her knocking, he ignored it and she only tried twice before coming in.

She felt a twinge of annoyance at seeing him laying there awake, staring off into space. "Why did you not answer me?"

"Didn' want to get up."

She huffed a little, but quickly forced the feeling of annoyance away, "Well, if you are up to it, I hoped to speak with you over breakfast."

" 'Bout wot?"

She shrugged, "This, that, the other."

He knew exactly what she wanted to talk about; him staying there and why he should do it. And as annoying as it all was, she wasn't going to drop the subject no matter how many times he said 'no'. Determined as she was, the offer was almost seeming a demand.

"You sure I ain't missed breakfast? I thought it was at eight. Tha's one o the rules ain't it," he asked bordly, looking more for an excuse to keep conversation off his staying or going than anything.

She quirked an eyebrow, "Eight is the preferred time for everyone to eat, but it is not required. I like for things to be regular and scheduled but at the same time I do not want to force people to-"

"Do things they dun wanna do, I got it," he finished, "Well ain't you a peach."

Natalya blinked at the rather vicious tone he had used for the statement. "I am not quite sure why you feel such a need to attack people. If you are going to do it, perhaps you should make sure they deserve it, and make it physical. Not that I am trying to incite violence, but attacking someone with words and harsh tones is stupid and childish."

Most people would have said fighting physically over trivial matters was childish too, but the Russian had always known it to be the way to prove who was right in the situation.

"Why's that?"

"Because if it comes down to an argument, both sides are subjective, in all reality there is never a right or wrong because everything is really an opinion. In a war, you are always fighting for the side that is right, but how can both sides be right? It is subjective. In my opinion, whoever is stronger is the one that has the right to claim that they are the 'right' side."

Long, round-a-bout, a little wordy, a little random, but he understood.

And it made sense.

She was too smart to be doing what she was. He wasn't sure what went on in her head, but it must have been moving a mile a minute for her to pop off with the things she did. Maybe it was just something about being a woman.

" 'Ave it your way, you think I'd be better off 'ere, and I think I'd be better off wit the Brotherhood. When it come's down ta it," he told her, "we'll spar."

In a fight against him, she could never win but she was not about to contradict herself; it was a matter of pride now. In the end she figured she could change his mind anyway. For him to spar, he would have to have healed, for him to have healed, he would have had to have been there for at least three weeks. That was enough time.

"Whatever you wish." They shook on it. "Now, are you coming to breakfast or not?"

"Only if ya agree you'll stop tryin' to convince me ta join ya."

"No promises."

"You know, it would typically take TecH a few weeks to do all the work you did yesterday in just a few hours," Natalya told him, locking eyes with him.

Toad shrugged one shouldered, finishing off his food, " 'E's jist a kid, 'e'll get better… with time"

The Russian was sure to keep her gaze steady when she spoke next, "You know, he would get to be a lot better a lot faster if he were to have a teacher." He frowned, and opened his mouth to protest her prodding, but she held up her hand to stop him, "I am not asking you to stay and do it, merely saying. It is just something for you to consider towards staying here."

She broke her gaze, "I am not going to lie to you and say that I am not doing all that I can to persuade you to stay here, because I am. There is nothing wrong with that, we could really use you, and I think… I think you might possibly be happier here than with the Brotherhood," she stated quietly, "Do not take any offence from that, it is only what I think is true."

"You should really stop tryin', Natalya," he muttered, getting up and limping off to who knows where. She didn't follow, she would leave him alone for now.

It was funny, she kind of liked the way he said her name.

Must have been his accent.

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