Flip Sides of the Badly Socialized Coin

[x-forge.livejournal.com]

After swapping emotional traumas for a few hours last night, Forge and Manuel meet up in the gym and straighten a few things out. A favor is asked for, and granted, and a sort of friendly detente is formed.




Manuel stood in a full guard position, trying to school is trembling arm and leg. When he was fairly sure they were ready, he uncoiled into a full lunge, scoring a touch on the tennis ball tied to a rope dangling from the ceiling. He didn't quite hit it cleanly - his left arm was trembling from strain, and it fouled his aim.

Forge simply watched from the hallway, hesitant to walk over to Manuel. Despite the effects from the empathic transfer having faded, the physical aftereffects remained. Xavier had told him the cold sweats would stop, but to not be surprised if his reactions seemed to be different for a while, after the emotional rollercoaster he'd been through.

"If it's any help," he finally said, "I could never do that when I had both arms, so you're way ahead of where I was."

Manuel didn't look at Forge, but he did give the other kid an empathic look-over. He knew how Forge felt - knew it intimately. "I should be better than this. These are beginner exercises." he said. "Still have some stuffiness in the arm and leg." he admitted, before removing the facemask and putting the sword back on the rack. "So - did you enjoy how I felt? Does it make sense to you now?" he said, having to fight hard to keep from baring his teeth in anger.

"Enjoy?" Forge blurted out, leaning heavily against the wall. "For god's sake, Manuel. That was... I don't know. It's faded now, but I can still remember it all. It's..." He looked at the ground for a moment, then tried his best to fix his gaze on the older student.

"I understand now. I understand why you react the way you do. It's not an excuse, but it's a reason. And you, I mean... you felt everything I...?" He couldn't finish the sentence, throat choked with his own memories of his actions.

Manuel took a deep breath and nodded. "All of it. That was the point, remember? I went in so deep that my hand, forearm, and leg went numb. You don't have them, after all, and while I was synched in that deeply neither did I. I felt your anger. I still do, lightly. Frustration. Helplessness. Anger. A wild desire to lash out, to make people see. I know them. I know them well."

"And now you know why it's so important for me to move past that," Forge explained. "And I know why you're so fucking hostile towards anyone that you feel threatens you, or can take power away from you. You don't ever want to be a victim again." Unable to look directly at Manuel, Forge wrapped his arms around himself defensively, fingers stroking the cool metal of his left arm. "And why it pisses you off so much when you want to help and they tell you that you can't. Like it takes a choice away from you."

Manuel noded slowly. "That's part of it, yes. I am not like you, or Paige, or Amanda, or Angelo, or anyone else here. I am from a different world, a different way of life. The adjustments are not always simple or easy." he said. "I'm getting better, but sometimes I get so damned tired of it all. Tired of having to change to be marginally acceptable to everyone else, tired of giving all and receiving nothing. It's always I who has to change, I who is wrong. And that, John, is why I can empathize with you."

Forge blinked. That was it, he realized. Someone else who saw things like he did, completely different than the rest of the world. Where he saw systems, machines, and formulae, Manuel saw everything in simply the purest forms of emotion. So much power, and yet-

"But you have people like Amanda, and Paige, and Angelo. And... and me, if that's not an offensive concept. Yeah, they've got it pretty much as close to normal as we get around here. But from one fucked-up headcase to another - I understand. I know what it's like to have to learn how to act acceptably, to fit in with the way of the world. Half the time I don't even want to be a part of it," he said, gesturing wildly. "I see how everyone gets hurt, or upset, or falls in love, or laughs, or cries - and I'd rather be in the lab working on a new project."

He shrugged, knowing that trying to sugarcoat anything would fall completely flat with Manuel. "I envy the hell out of you, you know. You do something, and you can know with absolute certainty what people think of you. Me? I have to guess, to try and use these social skills I'm supposed to be learning and that I absolutely suck at. Half the time I'm not even sure what I'm feeling."

At least you have that escape. I am forced to get involved in everyone else's loves, hates, fears. All of it. Or I can block it all out, and reduce myself down to someone of Angelo's intellect. Someone barely able to function, someone who can shuffle through the day intact and unviolated, but by no means whole." he said. "And you can invent anything you can conceive of, yes?" he asked. "Then try this - invent a device that will help you. And I know how people feel about me - and believe me, that is no picnic indeed. All the little lies people tell - why yes, you look good today! I'm interested in what you have to say! - all of those are useless with me. Because I _know_ that they are lies."

"So who do you trust?" Forge asked honestly. "Who's there that you choose to believe, that you don't have to worry that what they say and what they feel aren't two separate things? I just... it's as frustrating for me NOT knowing as it is for you not being able to not know. I look in the mirror every morning, and part of me is always going to see this freak looking back at me. And I wonder," Forge's voice cracked in his confession, "how many people think the same thing, but won't say it?"

Manuel put his mask of breeding and station back on for a moment. "Why, no one." he said lightly, and then let the mask fall. "I thought Amanda could be the one I could choose to believe, but she is falling apart out from under me. We are tied together, she and I, but ... she just does not see. I am too much for her. Too difficult, too onerous. I try, but she will not let me aid. Did you know that she was my shining example? Of the good I could do, I mean. I could look at her and say "See? I can do well. I can help people". But apparently that means that I'm a crutch, a tool to be used and discarded." And for once he didn't even try to hide the wince that came along with that point. "I think you can understand now how I feel about that sort of thing, no?"

"I can," Forge admitted. "But right now, how much of what she's feeling is real and how much is the pain and withdrawal influencing her? You can influence people's emotions, Manuel. That's your power. That doesn't make what they feel real. Same goes for her addiction, I think. But... you know what you feel, right? What you feel for Amanda, you know that's real?"

"If it were only that simple." he said with a shake of his head. "I have heard of a man - I believe his name was Heisenberg? I'll leave you to draw your own conclusions. I hear it told you're a smart fellow." he said with a ragged grin. "And, for the record, me treating other people's emotions as if they were not real or not significant is something I have struggled for months to stop doing. Please do not suggest I should go back to the way I once was. That way lies a lot of people getting their jagged harsh colors smoothed out."

"I'm not taking that away from you," Forge said in apology, "Just that I know what it's like to see a problem, and want to fix it. But like I'm finding out, the solution you or I can provide instinctively isn't always the healthiest one. But that brings me to another point, a problem you can help me with."

Manuel quirked an eyebrow, and waves Forge to actually come into the Gym. "You want my help?" he asked as he sat himself down and mopped at his brow with his sleeve. "I think I know, but I'd like confirmation."

Forge finally walked in, across the mats, and crouched down, tracing small patterns on the floor with his finger. "You can probably tell from just looking at me that, well, okay. Paige. And I know you talk to her, and you probably know just what she feels." He held his hand up, interrupting Manuel's likely reply. "I don't want to know. I mean, not that way. I want to know how to figure out what I feel. Whether it's genuine or just some infatuation thing or whatever. I don't know how to tell the difference."

Manuel quirked both eyebrows at the request. "Interesting." he said. "You'll have to trust me, you know. I could tell you anything Iwished, anything at all. What you ask - you're looking for the subtle shades of meaning. To know if a love is true or if it's merely a witches' brew of hormones and synaptic relays."

"You could. You could lie to me and totally fuck me over just for sport," Forge said plainly. "You can look right at me and tell me straight out. But I want to know for myself, but when it comes down to it, I don't have any basis for comparison." He looked up at Manuel, mirroring the Spaniard's posture and expression. "But you do."

Manuel smiled. Despite it all, it still brought a smile to his face when people actually acknowledged what he could do, that he was more than just the annoying brain-suck fucktard from Spain. "I will do what you ask. Because you asked, and because it is good to have understanding, is it not?" he said sadly. "It works better through touch." he said by way of apology, and then grabbed at Forge's hand with both of his.

Manuel Looked into Forge's mind, seeing the swirl of colors and the threads that everyone invariably collected. "Think of her." he asked Forge. "Think about how she makes you feel." He then thought of Amanda, of their good times together, before everything went sour. In his mind's eye, he studied Forge's feelings, and then his own, and then Amanda's for good measure.

With a gasp, Forge's eyes opened, looking into Manuel's glowing-red gaze. "You... wow. You do. You love her. That's what it's like, then. Wow." He dropped his hand from the other man's grasp, standing unsteadily. Clearing his throat, he tucked his hands into his pockets. "I'm sorry for what you're going through, then. I really can't envision how difficult it is - how difficult it's been. But... thank you. For showing me that. It took a lot of trust."

Manuel nodded curtly. "That ... was painful." he said. "No, not in the physical sense. To examine what I have now, compared to what I had then. That's the flip-side to love. It hurts. It can hurt you more profoundly than any twenty uncaring bullies, or any set of parents who did not see a child in pain. It can build your dreams - or it can destroy them." he said flatly. "I know."

"That sucks," Forge replied. "But... it's worth it, right?"

Manuel grinned at Forge. "This country is too stupid. Right now, I need a drink. I need several drinks." Standing, he offered his left hand to Forge to take. "Come on. Let's get cleaned up, go someplace fun."

Laughing, Forge levered himself up to his feet. "Have you forgotten I have less than a hundred pounds of actual body mass? Do you know what an alcoholic drink would do to me? Besides, if you haven't heard, the white man's firewater is bad for my people. But yeah, we ought to get out of here. Let me get a few things settled, then I'll swing by your suite later?"

Manuel nodded. "In vino veritas." he said, and then grinned at Forge again. "I need to get cleaned up. When you're ready, stop by."