xp_logs | Monday night (backdated), Jay and Forge

After months of not talking, Forge and Jay start to make steps towards mending their friendship. It's not as easy as it sounds.

Forge browsed through the journals one more time, making notes to himself. Terry and Bobby were apparently quits, which surprised him a bit. Marius was already going through his wardrobe and beaming like a loon, which didn't surprise Forge a bit. The guy definitely moved fast.

Rolling his eyes, Forge shut off his screen and leaned back in his chair. This was just one more example to support his theory that romance made people stupid. But then again, he thought, Kyle and Jay seemed to be pretty stable - exceptionally so, considering the two of them were already both pig-headed, stubborn, temperamental, argumentative, short-sighted...

He could hear the twang of guitar strings from across the suite, the telltale sound of Jay tuning his guitar before working on something. And when Jay was in one of his 'musician moods', he was nigh impossible to talk to. Forge wasn't exactly aware when he decided talking needed to be done, but he was up and walking across the suite anyway.

Quickly, he knocked on the doorframe of Jay's room and poked his head in. "Jay? Got a minute?"

For a second, Jay considered just ignoring the intruder. But he didn't hate Forge (not anymore, at least), and he knew that he'd just talk anyway even if he were ignored, so Jay settled for that icy glare that he'd mastered over the years. "What?" he replied shortly.

Completely missing the glare, Forge folded his arms and leaned against the wall. "I want to fix stuff. This... you and me. We've hardly said a word to each other for like two and a half months, and that's bugging the hell out of me. So how do we fix it?"

"Ah dunno. You're the one who always has the answers. You tell me." If Jay had a laser glare, then Forge's face would be on fire now.

"For fuck's sake," Forge mumbled, lightly thumping the back of his head into the wall. "Dammit, Jay. You're one of the only people I can really call a friend here. Anywhere, to be honest. And ever since the bullshit with Tommy, it's like there's this big wall there. What do you want me to say, that he doesn't deserve our help? That he doesn't deserve a chance to eventually make up for what he's done? Tough, because he does." Forge swallowed, clenching his fists. "He deserves it because I got it. Because Alex got it. Because Nathan got it. God knows how many second chances Manuel got. Remy killed more people than the biblical plagues and he got a second chance. I'm not asking you to like the guy - I don't like the guy! He's a piece of shit who'd rather hole up in his room and be all broody than actually talk to people!"

Pacing away from the wall, Forge threw up his hands in frustration. "I think he can be better than he was, because I've become better than I was. And by you not being willing to give him a chance, that says you're not willing to give me a chance."

"Oh, give me a break," Jay spat. "Ah don't have to prove mahself to you. Haven't Ah done that already? Or didja already forget that Ah was-" emphasis on the was "-in love with you?" Jay gently placed his guitar down on his bed and then approached Forge, towering over him.

"What d'you want me ta say, huh? That this guy who actually believes in his heart of hearts all that homophobic anti-mutant crap is really a good guy underneath? That he's just misunderstood? Where the hell do you get off, Forge?"

"I don't think he's a good guy!" Forge shot right back. "If it were up to me, I'd like to see him come to his senses and make restitution for what he's done. Because right now, turning him out into the world would kill him. Do you get that, Jay? If he didn't off himself, his old friends would probably track him down and do it for him. You think he deserves that. I don't."

A moment of tense silence, and Forge backed away slightly, folding his arms around himself again. "I'm not asking you to prove anything to me, Jay. I'm not asking you to change your opinion on Tommy. Hate him all you want if it helps you deal. But it's not fair for you to hate me because I refuse to give the kid a death sentence."

"Why are we even talkin' about this?" Jay asked, taking a step back, too. "Nuthin's gonna change mah mind, not 'til he comes up to me and apologizes. That's what makes the difference here. Because if he's really sorry and really wants ta change, then he will. So are we done here? You can go back to the lab and ogle mah sister now."

Springing off the wall, Forge pushed Jay in the chest. "Fuck you. That was a low blow, and you know it. Whatever I feel or don't about Paige doesn't have a damn thing to do with you. We aren't done here, not by a long shot. Not until you tell me what changed things. If it's just the difference of opinion on Tommy, then fuck it. We'll agree to disagree and go back to how things were. I'm not about to let some dumbass bigot down the hall define what kind of relationship I have with my friend. Yeah, I think you're being pigheaded. Jay, you've been pigheaded since the day I met you. Nothing's changed on that score."

Jay stumbled back a step, and then pushed Forge much harder. "Don't push me," he threatened, his feathers bristling. "Don't touch me." He pushed Forge again. "Don't talk to me." He backed Forge into the wall. "Just get the fuck outta here. You obviously care way more about your path to salvation than ya do 'bout your 'friends.' What would you do if you'd been me, huh? The fella who beat you nearly ta death bein' welcomed with open arms to the only place that's ever been safe fo you, and he don't care one way or the other about what he did ta you. Hell, he's even celebratin' it, like it was worth it and that you're worthless. And if you tell me that you'd just turn the other cheek and let it go, then either you're a goddamn liar or you're dumber than you look."

"I'm telling you I'd try and do the right thing, Jay," Forge said quietly, attempting not to crawl away from the larger boy who looked just a hair's breadth from murderous at the moment. "I'd do it because it's the right thing to do. And yeah, sometimes it sucks. But understand this - no one - no one is saying what he did is okay. No one's saying he's not going to have to own up to it. And the moment there's a way to get him out of here without condemning him to certain doom, I'll be the first person booting him out the door if he doesn't want to set things right."

Forge turned away, then shook his head, looking back at Jay and pushing him lightly away to get some space. "If it came down to you or him, Jay, it'd be you in a heartbeat. God, you should know that by now. You're my friend, he's not. When did that become in doubt?"

"When you started playin' the pity game in October," Jay answered, smacking Forge's hand away lightly but taking a couple of steps back to avoid claustrophobia. "When mah sympathy and mah friendship weren't good enough for you. That's when."

Forge stood there, stunned for a moment. "Shit," he finally said, looking away. "That wasn't it at all, Jay. God, I'm bad with this stuff. I didn't know how to deal with things then. I pushed too many people away that I shouldn't have. And because I'm a complete idiot, I didn't think that it'd come back to bite me in the ass, but it has. This sucks, Jay. I want my friend back."

Jay sighed and hit his head against the wall behind him. "Then you need ta damn well realize that this whole thing ain't about you. It's about me and Tommy Jones. You don't figure into this equation."

"Then aside from Tommy," Forge asked earnestly, "Why haven't we been talking? Hanging out? Doing any of that stuff? Is it... is it because of you and Kyle? Because, you know, I'm totally cool with you guys... finding each other, or whatever." He hoped that didn't sound TOO awkward, but it was a lot more tactful than I'm cool with my roommates screwing like rabbits even though they're none-too-quiet about it.

"'Finding each other'?" Jay snorted. "What the hell kind of crappy romance have you been readin'? We're datin' and sleepin' together, but it's not like there're any butterflies and roses or whatever. And that's totally beside the point anyway. Ah'd've called you out on it if you or anyone was bein' a dumbass about me and him. "And if Ah remember correctly, it's not like you've been makin' an effort to talk or hang out either. Ah reckoned Ah . . . it didn't matter much to you."

"I think the conclusion is that we've both been total freaking dumbasses, as Kyle would say," Forge admitted with a sheepish grin. "Jay, you matter to me. Otherwise you wouldn't make me so damn pissed off when I think you're being a giant jackass. I just... we're going to see things differently. But that doesn't mean I see you differently. Agree with me or disagree with me... you're still my friend, Jay."

"It's noble of you ta be so adamant about him," Jay admitted, "Even if it's misguided." He shrugged and stood up straighter, as if a weight had been quite literally lifted from his shoulders. Not that he'd completely forgiven Forge for what he still saw as a betrayal, but this was a significant start.

"And it says a lot that you're willing to stick by what you believe," Forge said with a smile. "Even if sometimes it's a pain in the ass."

With a nod, he motioned towards the guitar on Jay's bed. "Were you about to play something?

"Just a little thing Ah've been working on," Jay replied, a little bit hesitantly. Though he'd never admit it, he did in fact see butterflies and roses, and for him, music springs from that. "No lyrics yet, just a melody."

"Work in progress, huh?" Forge nodded as he pulled over a chair to sit down. "Mind if I listen?"

"If you want," Jay shrugged. "Like Ah said, there's not much to it yet." If you ignored the two composition notebooks filled with discarded lyrics. Because comparing Kyle to any romantic cliche? Yeah, not so appropriate.

Forge gave a mocking shrug in response. "I like it. It's like when I build something just to build it, you know? Half the time I don't even know what it's going to be. I might not know a whole lot about music," he said, remembering his barely-squeaked-by-with-a-B-minus class with Ms. Blaire, "but I know what I like. Just as long as you aren't commemorating the loss of your dog, house, or pickup."

Jay snorted at that. "Ah've don't sing redneck, dummy. And as far as Ah know, Liz is keepin' up mah pickup just dandy."