xmutanthigh | [closed thread] trouble in paradise

Entry tags:

[closed thread] trouble in paradise

Characters: Julian Keller, Rogue.
Setting: Outside Rogue's room.
Content: I wish I could accurately predict this scene's content.
Status: Incomplete.

[Julian didn't think he would be able to sleep at all the night before; yet he laid his head down and eventually drifted off for several hours. The sleep wasn't one that he would call a good rest: instead he opened his eyes against the harsh afternoon sun and felt like he hadn't rested at all.

After the briefing and talking to Emma about Rogue the other day, he had been sent to the med bay to tend to his wounds. The only mildly serious one had been from Longshot's blade, right across his chest - which had needed a few stitches. Absent Josh, Julian has sat through the ordeal of cleaning and dressing the wound; then promptly fell into bed after stopping by Rogue's room and finding her asleep.

Now, freshly showered, still sore, and noticeably exhausted, Julian stops in front of Rogue's door and knocks.]

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[She lets him pull her closer, glad for the physical comfort of his arms around her as she becomes lost in her thoughts. This New Brotherhood's been defeated but Magneto wasn't a part of it which means he's still out there somewhere. Even if Rogue wasn't terrified of him, she'd be worried right about now. Her head leans lightly against his chest as she thinks about it, hands starting to toy with one another.]

[There's something comforting here, having her in his arms again. His fingers thread through her hair; he kisses the crown of her head. He knows, without checking, that her hands are fidgeting with one another, and he drapes his free one lightly over a wrist.

He's scared too - scared at how easily simple questions from her are staggering him. Scared of the crippling flashes of memory that make his hands want to tremble, that make him remember the cool hilt of the blade and feeling it slice past skin, the spit of blood, what he did and what it all was for. He stares into space for awhile, his expression hardening, his voice calm save the slight gruffness in it when he finally speaks.]

There's something else.

What is it?

[Her voice is low as she asks, eyes half closed. She doesn't know what to expect anymore. Doesn't know what other surprising piece information he might possibly have left.]

[Julian takes a breath - a slow, shallow one that shakes just slightly on exhale. His fingers tighten at her wrist, although he doesn't notice. Her body, her voice; she just feels like an anchor he needs to hold onto.]

I killed someone. [His voice seems to be unable to go on after that; it stops in his throat for a moment. It seems stupid, now that's he's said it. Naive. X-men have to kill all the time. He's even helped Josh kill before. But this was just - despite knowing he had no choice, Julian can't understand how he can righteously say it was for the greater good like he always would tell himself, because it wasn't. It was either him or Longshot. And he chose to protect Ali and himself, not live up to some ideal of being better than the enemy.]

[Her eyes snap open and her hands stop their movements as she sits up to look him in the eye.] On the mission? [There's no judgment in her expression, only concern and worry. She's seen him like this before... from a few months ago with Kimura. Her free hand reaches up to gently cup his cheek, her voice quiet.] What happened?

[There is no judgement in her eyes, no disappointment. She doesn't recoil like he wants to from this fact, this memory, merely cares for him, and maybe that's way he pulls away slightly, reaches to grab her wrist and drop his eyes between them. He can't bear it, the acceptance, when all he feels is gutted and self-loathing over it, but he's too selfish to entirely deny it. There's a part of him that knows he did the only thing he could but now in retrospect he wonders if that's true. He wonders a lot.]

He was going to kill me. Kill Ali.

[She tries to catch his gaze again, concern growing.] Then you did what you had to do. [She frees her wrist from his grasp, fingers moving to gently brush against his cheek again.]

[He bristles inside at that, feels that urge to deny and to argue like he had with Bobby. But this time the feeling is frayed and he allows her gentle, searing touch, bows his head further into it, deflates even as he tenses.] No. [His voice is thick and low and pained; he can't decide whether to pull away from her again, to get up or stay.] I always thought - thought it'd be easier to make sense of it - thought it'd make sense.

It doesn't make any sense. I just keep seeing it.

Julian. [She ducks her head a little bit, trying to catch his gaze again before giving up. She leans up a little, pressing her lips gently beside his temple.] You're not a bad person. I'd be more worried if this was all making perfect sense to you.

[Julian lets his head fall into his hands, the heels digging into his eyes. He wants to believe her; a part of him does. But no matter how much he believes it, what he did tore something from him, some piece he can't seem to get back. His brows furrow; tears full his eyes, and he hates himself for it.

There's a telling roughness to his voice - he sounds lost. He feels lost.]

Is this what this is all about? I just want to make a difference. Protect- [He stops there for a moment. Protect people.] Not this. I don't want this to be the sacrifice.

[Her arm moves to go around him, hand resting lightly on his far shoulder. She bites her lip, a part of her heart breaking at seeing him like this. She doesn't know what to say, what can help make this better.]

It's a part of what we do, sugah. No one likes it but there's no choice sometimes.

[Right. Part of what they do. No one likes it. But there's no choice. The words he's repeated constantly before, said to others like an empty fucking vow - they held no real meaning to him days ago, just the self-righteousness and hollow pride of being somebody, of being a hero, of being someone to count on. Just a goddamn broken record. Just a nice bow to wrap around the actual horror of making the decision to kill someone and go through with it. Who gave him the authority to do that? This place?

Julian's jaw tightens, he feels a surge of anger and resentment; his hands shake as he rubs his cheeks and wet eyes. His voice is still rough, harsh, but the tears are gone from it.]

There is nothing heroic or right about killing someone. If it's part of what we do then someone's lying about what this place is about.

No one's saying that there is, Julian. No one likes it. It's just a part of it.

[There's more of an edge in her voice now, concern taking a little bit of a back seat. Maybe it's Logan's influence or maybe it's because her mutation means that she's meant to kill but she's doesn't have his same reservations about having to kill for the right reasons.]

Yeah well, I must have missed the memo about it being that easy. Doesn't matter, I got the fucking lesson. [Her tone of voice, her words, all of it - they barely agitate him in his state. He merely responds with some venom, although not directed at her. He sniffs and pulls the hands from his face, only lingering to none-too-gently wipe his eyes. He's bent over his knees by now, facing away from her; he's been turning ever so slowly to hide his tears.]

[Rogue lets out an almost inaudible sigh and moves her hand from his back, retreating and wrapping her arms around herself. She looks down at the floor, trying not to shift uneasily as she tries to soften her tone.] I never said it was supposed to be easy, sugah.

[It's the lack of her touch that pulls the last bit of him from his numbing resentment, that quells its growing. Her response triggers something in him - something softer, more instinctive. It takes a moment to process, but he looks her way, lashes still wet, eyes full of quiet concern. After a moment, he shifts, sits back enough to raise his fingers to push back her hair.]

Have you?

[She doesn't say anything for a minute. It's a long minute before she finally looks up again, meeting his gaze with absolute honesty in her eyes.] I don't know. There've been a lot of close calls over the years especially when I first got my powers. I didn't know how to tell how much I'd taken from a person back then. All I know is that they all ended up getting pretty hurt.

But no. Never on purpose.

[He looks into her wide eyes her quietly, sees the helplessness and sadness and fear there, those emotions he's only seen hints of. The ones etched into her every move sometimes, in the way she recoils from a touch or glances away from a searching look.

She doesn't deserve this, being terrified of human contact and wanting it all at the same time. Didn't serve to be so lost and without anywhere to turn. He shifts towards her again, reaches to curl his fingers against her spine, run them up and down that curve.

He's glad she hasn't yet, not on purpose. But he knows. Maybe one day.]

I'm sorry. I'm not saying- I know I chose this, sweetheart. I signed up for it. But you didn't, not for any of that. And I have you. You didn't have anybody for a long time.

It's in the past. [She shrugs and drops her gaze away again. She hates talking about-- hates thinking about those long months between when her powers first manifested and when she found her way to the X-men. It's something she's always tried to push out of her mind. But, like she said, it's in the past now. Ever since she set her focus on joining the team, she's known exactly what she's signing herself up for. She doesn't look forward to it but she knows it's most likely inevitable.

There's a soft exhale at his touch and she glances over at him, managing a small half smile, concern in her eyes again.] Are you going to be okay though?

[He looks down at that, his brows furrowing and his lips pulling down in a slight frown. It's a hard question. He's not sure he can lie to her. He's not sure even trying would be worth it. His fingers splay over her back; his palm follows, rubbing gently in circles.] I don't know. Maybe it gets easier. [He lifts his eyes to hers, not bothering to hide the exhaustion in them. He's tired, in every possible way.]

Edited 2011-03-02 06:48 (UTC)

[She almost shakes her head before thinking better of it and instead just biting her lip. One hand reaches for his free one.] I don't know, sugah. [And then she really takes in his overall appearance for the first time, taking note of the obvious exhaustion. Briefly, she considers telling him to go back to his room and crash but abandons that thought as she comes to a realisation. It's the realisation that he needs her right now. Instead, she tugs gently at his hand, scooting further back on to her bed.] Come on.

[Every bit of him seems to deflate at her gentle urging; he lets out a heavy breath and follows, kicking off his shoes on the way. The truth is he doesn't believe this will get easier, but at this moment, right now, he thinks it doesn't have to always be so hard either. He falls back onto one of her pillows, his eyes half-closed, and waits for her to tuck herself beside him.]

Thank you.

Edited 2011-03-02 16:31 (UTC)

[It's barely even a wait before she's curled up beside him, one hand resting lightly on his chest.] It'll be okay.

[He closes his eyes with a sigh, succumbing to the need for rest and the comfort of her next to him. Carefully, tenderly, he rubs his hand over her back, bunching and smoothing the fabric back over her hip, reaches to touch her fingers. He doesn't know how to respond to that, so he doesn't. Instead he merely presses his lips to her hair.]

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[closed thread] trouble in paradise

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Lame tag, sorry.

I don't know to what you are referring.