Jay & Forge

[x-icarus.livejournal.com]

Unstable after his run-in with Tommy, Jay receives some support from Forge.


Forge skidded around the corner, pager in hand. The text from Jay had come from the kitchen, going by the trace information. If there was some emergency or injury --

Bouncing his hip off the wall, Forge came to a stop abruptly when he noticed the mess on the floor. Wrinkling his nose as he gasped for breath, he glanced over at Jay and the mop bucket. "You have... an ... accident?"

Then he noticed the look on Jay's face, the mix of nausea and shame and pain. Not caring about the mess on the floor, he moved around to kneel next to his suitemate, putting a hand cautiously on Jay's shoulder. "Hey? Everything okay?"

"S'Tommy," Jay replied quietly, unable to speak loudly even if he wanted to. "He was here and makin' a sandwich and Ah just . . . Shit, Ah'm such a mess. He didn't even do nuthin' and Ah completely lost it."

"Tommy." Forge repeated the name in a serious tone. He'd been avoiding the young man since he'd been brought in, and he was beginning to get a serious desire to remedy that.

Standing up, he extended a hand to pull Jay to his feet. "I can't figure it's easy for you to see him here. They're letting him just walk around without an escort or anything?"

Jay shook his hair out of his face as he shakily stood up. He still felt queasy and braced himself against the counter behind him. "Unless he's bein' followed around by some invisible fella, then nope, he's all alone." Because it's just fine and dandy to let a near-murderer wander around a building full of kids unsupervised, he thought wryly.

Forge thought about that for a moment. "That means the doctor folks and the Professor okayed it. And someone's got to be watching him like a hawk, with the telepaths and whatnot we've got here." He reached over for the mop, dipping it in the bucket and beginning to clean the floor as he kept talking.

"Best thing you can probably do is stay away from him. Keep talking to Doc Samson until you're ready to confront the things he did to you. Not saying you've ever got to forgive him, but he's in as bad a place as any of us have ever been."

"He brought it on himself," Jay spat, grabbing the dustpan and brush to sweep up the broken glass. "Ah ain't gonna even try ta confront him, Ah'm not that dumb. But who does he think he is, bein' afraid of me of all people? Like Ah did somethin' to him."

"It's not you, it's what you represent," Forge explained, leaning on the mop. "I went over this a lot with Doc Samson, he helped me understand why I had all this anger at authority figures around here when I first showed up. Because I blamed everyone for what I'd done, you know? Everyone except me."

Rinsing the mop again, Forge kept up his work on the floor. "He did what he did to you because it's what he was taught to think. Now suddenly in his own mind, he's become no different than you. And you're always going to remind him of that - the fact that he's become what he hates and fears. I can't begin to think of how horrible that is."

"Are you actually sympathizin' with the guy?" asked Jay. He snorted derisively as he dumped the glass into the trash. "Seems only right ta me that after a life of hate and ignorance and evil that, as horrible as it might be for him, it ain't no less that what he should get. We should be so lucky that all hateful people suddenly wake up one mornin' as the people they want ta kill. Then they'd stop and there wouldn't be none no more."

"What would be fair?" Forge asked quietly. "He got a beating as bad as you got, without the benefit of a healing factor to bounce back from it. He's been absolutely terrified for months now, realizing what he is. Pain, fear, disgust - what more does he have to lose? An arm and a leg?" Forge smirked self-consciously, "How much punishment's enough?"

"Ah hate it when you're all calm and logical like that," Jay said, looking down so Forge couldn't see his face through his veil of hair. "Ah believe people can change. Look at you, man. You're a shinin' example of that. But him . . ." Jay sighed, gripping the counter so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. "Ah don't want him ta change," he admitted. "It's much easier ta just tell mahself that he's shit if he actually acts like it."

Forge stopped, letting the mop rest on the floor, not caring about the puddle. "So long as you can believe he's incapable of change, whatever happens to him is justified, huh?" He shook his head. "I know how you feel. It's really easy to feel that way. That it's okay to want to see him punished, because it's easier than helping him. And you know, when he got here, I probably agreed with you there."

He let out a long breath between his teeth. "Then I got the same exact words said to me. By Magneto, about all of humanity. About how they deserved what he was going to give them, because of their hate. Because he doesn't want to think people can change and be shown another way, it's easier to hate them, to hurt them."

Shrugging, he swept the mop back and forth, cleaning up the last of the mess. "You're not like him, Jay. Either of them. You don't hate indiscriminately. You want to see him pay for what he did to you. You ask me, I think he has."

"But is he sorry?" Jay snapped, raising his head and looking straight at Forge through narrowed eyes. "He almost killed me, and Lord knows what he woulda done to other mutants iffn he'd gotten the chance. And does he regret it? So he got what was comin' to him, and he's gonna change because he doesn't have no other choice. But it's nothin'. Nothing. It's all just lip service and meaningless 'til he apologizes. 'Til he means it."

That got a quizzical look from Forge. "If he changes, does it matter why? Because he's sorry, because he's regretful, because he realizes it's a better way? Does he change his point of view because he's had a religious conversion? Because he thinks it'll help him get girls? Does it really matter?"

One last time, Forge dunked the mop in the bucket, the water now foul and stained. "He's a different person than he was, just by having his point of view changed, Jay. Whether that can make him a better person - it's up to him. I think he deserves the chance."

Jay looked down again. He was only making himself look like an idiot. "For someone who's gone through what you've gone through and seen what you've seen, you have a heck of a lot of faith in the human spirit, y'know."

Forge cocked his head at Jay. "What else is there to have faith in?" he asked. "Science? You can't have faith in science, you don't have to believe in it, it works regardless. God? Depends on whose interpretation you believe. Human nature's the only thing we really can take on faith, Jay. I'd rather be let down than never hope."

"I do have faith in humanity," Jay asserted, "In our friendships and families, and especially in love. The most powerful ability we have is the ability to love others and accept love. But it's folk like him who make me wonder if that's enough. Ah love and have loved, and see where that's gotten me? Always wrapped up in hate."

"No," Forge admitted, "it's not enough. But it's what we've got." He smiled, remembering the words Alison had told him months before. "Hope is the thing with feathers," he quoted, "that perches in the soul, and sings the tune without the words and never stops at all. I see all this horrible stuff happening, and yeah, I could dwell on it. I could close my eyes and see all sorts of awful things, and never sleep soundly again. Or," he said with a wry smile, "I can believe that things are capable of being better. If I didn't, I'd probably have stayed in Florida with Magneto."

Jay shook his head and smiled. "I've heard it in the chillest land," he finished, faking a New England accent, "and on the strangest sea. Yet, never, in extremity, it asked a crumb of me. But if things don't get better? If you keep workin' and workin' and nothin' ever changes, you can still keep hope?"

"You know what the alternative is?" Forge said, jerking his head towards the door. "Guys like Tommy. Who get stuck in hate. Because that's what's left if you don't have any hope."

"He that lives upon hope will die fasting," Jay quoted miserably. "It ain't enough, y'know? Unless you see some progress. You need more than just hope. And Ah just don't see it sometimes."

"Choose to," Forge replied. "You can sit and dwell on all the negative things, and the things that you lack, and what doesn't work - or you can concentrate on what you DO have. Your friends, your music. Flying. Kyle. Your family. All of that. Decide that that is what matters, not some bigot walking around the halls."

Grunting, Forge lifted the mop bucket, carrying it over to the sink to dump the foul water and rinse it out. "Look at me here, being all eloquent with a bucket full of puke-water. I don't have all the answers, Jay. I just know what helps me cope."

"Ah'll . . . think about it," Jay said, although the tone of his voice suggested that it would take far more to convince him. "Though for the record? Kyle ain't one of those things that makes me feel better."

Forge thought about that for a moment. "I just figured... I mean, you and him... I just assumed you guys were, you know."

"Well, yeah, we fool around. But didja see his comment on Jennie's journal? About me an' him, Ah mean."

"Ah," Now it sunk in. "About him not thinking of himself as your boyfriend. Just fooling around and whatnot. I'm the last person to ask how to deal with that, really." Forge put his hands on the edge of the sink, watching the water. "I just know how frustrating it all is."

"Ah reckon Ah just gotta talk to him 'bout it," Jay said, shrugging. "For such a simple fella, he's awful complicated, y'know?" Sighing gloomily, he helped Forge clean the sink.

Nodding, Forge turned around to lean on the edge of the counter and look at his morose suitemate. "You gonna be okay? Really?"

"Am Ah ever?" Emo, thy name is Jay. "Ah just need some time. Things just went from zero to absurd in the blink of an eye. Ah haven't had a good mope in a while, anyway. S'about time."

Forge pantomimed reaching into his pocket for his PDA, poking his finger at the nonexistent screen. "Ah, here we are. Dear Diary. It was cloudy today. Jay was moping and Dani was crazy. Then a meteor hit. It was the best day ever." Smiling, he nudged Jay with an elbow. "Seriously, man. You need something to take your mind off stuff. Want to get out of here for a while, hit the record store or something?"

"Sounds like a plan. Maybe that cashier who's always lookin' at'cha will be there." Jay nudged Forge back, a small grin growing on his lips.

"That," Forge said with a serious nod, "would be awesome."