Backdated to Wednesday Afternoon

[x-traitor.livejournal.com]

Forge comes to Tommy's room to exchange books and finds Tommy practicing his powers on pizza boxes and soda cans. But even his distraction by those isn't enough for Forge not to question Tommy on not asking for help and being anti-social.


Forge checked his email with a smile. A distinct lack of death threats
from the female contingent of the school was a plus. Even after the
humiliation and not-insignificant panic... the whole deal had been
rather fun. No one seemed to be genuinely angry, or at least, their
anger had been vented well by sticking Forge and his roommates to the
wall, inadvertently cross-dressed.

A series of less-than-polite emails from Jono went directly to the
Deleted Files with a click, then Forge paused on a message from Shan.
Puzzled, he read through it, then looked at the stack of books by his
desk. Sure enough, the large blue "RESERVED" card was indeed sticking
out of one. With an eyeroll, he replied to the email and tucked the
thick reference book under one arm and made his way down the hall.

Down at the end of the other wing, Forge stopped by Tommy's suite.
Sticking his head in, he breathed a sigh of relief that Shiro wasn't
sitting in the common area at the moment. All he needed was a
flamethrowing antisocial samurai with delusions of defending his
girlfriend's honor, that would just make the day super.

"Yo, Tommy," Forge called as he crossed the common area to knock on
the boy's door. "Book delivery."

When he first heard the knock, Tommy had glared at the door, wondering who that hell that could be, so puzzled he didn't hear the accompanying voice. It wasn't like he had any friends and Shiro would have just opened the door. Giving an exasperated sigh as he rolled his eyes, Tommy stood from where he was sitting at his desk, a book open to a page on iron on the table in front of him. Stepping over a bottle now turned to nickel, Tommy opened the door and almost slammed it again when he saw Forge behind it, figuring the other boy wanted something to do with this morning.

He leaned on the door frame, crossing his arms and looking particularly annoyed. "Can I help you?"

Forge held up the chemistry text. "Librarian said you were looking for
this. I checked, and it seems you've got the unabridged copy of
Stranger In A Strange Land. Want to trade?"

Before Tommy could answer, Forge ducked under his arm and took a quick
survey of the room. Empty soda cans, crumpled magazines, pizza boxes -
it could have been the room of a normal teenager.

Of course, in a normal teenager's room, the soda cans weren't made of
iron, the magazines weren't cast in lead, and the greenish tinge to
the pizza box would have been mold instead of -

"Hey, is that copper?" Forge asked, kneeling down to poke at the
metallic structure. "Wow, cool..."

Rolling his eyes as Forge barged in, Tommy moved out of the doorway and over to his bedside table where the book the other sought was stacked under a very well thumbed copy of The Count of Monte Cristo and the original French Phantom of the Opera complete with French dictionary beside it.

"Yes," he said in a rather bored tone, "It is. I've been practicing, thus why I need the Chemistry book." Tommy held out the novel to Forge hoping he would take it and leave.

Tommy's words seemed to fall on deaf ears as Forge pinched the metal
between his fingers. "Same constant of resistance, same pliability -
you turned a compound of different polycarbons and acetates into a
form of pure copper. Normally that needs a particle accelerator the
size of a small town to do, and even then we're talking atom by atom."
Or you could just be Paige, Forge thought, but decided not to
bring it up.

Rolling his eyes again, Tommy shut them and pinched the bridge of his nose to ward off a snappish reply. "It took my five days of study and then ten minutes of concentrating. And that was a piece of cake compared to the nickel cans. Are you done poking around? If like it enough you can keep the damn thing, I was about to throw it out. Now, the book if you please? The one I have has shit on gold or silver." He was finally able to open his eyes with a deep sigh glaring at the back of Forge's head.

Forge held the book up over his head. "Gold should be tougher, it's
got a closed electron shell, doesn't bond well with anything. Shares a
lot of conductivity properties with copper, though. You managed any
kind of compounds yet, or are you still stuck on the base atomics?"

Feeling Tommy's grip on the book, Forge turned around without letting
go. "I mean, there's no shame in asking some of the experts here for
some help. It's not like you've had a lifetime to work on this."

Tommy pulled the book from the other's grasp and moved to return his desk, after replacing the chemistry book with the novel in Forge's hand. "I'm planning on mastering basic elements first. Should make compounds easier." Flipping through the book to do a quick inventory, he nodded to himself. This would fill alot of the gaps he had on alot of the solid elements and would be invaluable when he got to liquids, which he was planning on experimenting with soon.

Then when he realized Forge was still behind him, he turned to glare at the boy over his shoulder. "Your right, there is no shame. If I was having trouble, I would ask. But as am I figuring it out fine for myself, I figure I wouldn't bother any of you. I'm sure you have better things to do." Then he returned to his gaze to the new book, pick up a notebook entitled with 'Nickel' transcribed across the cover in black marker so he could add in more notes. Beside him was a whole stack of books, one for each of the about 10 elements he was working on at the moment, all solids. The most heavily abused and thumbed through was the one with 'Lead' written across it.

"And what happens when you get the hang of it?" Forge asked bluntly.
"Back into the world? You might be able to pass for normal, that's
your big dream, right? Don't have to worry about someone beating you
to death for being a filthy mutie if no one knows." He sneered at
Tommy's back and shook his head. "Although that still raises the
problem, how do you learn to hide being an asshole?"

Rolling his eyes yet again, Tommy didn't even bother to look over his shoulder this time. "I have a lot of work to do before that ever happens, including finding a way to hide from the FOH. And when one is an asshole, then people tend to ignore anything funny that's going on. I thought you of all people would understand that." He didn't let it show on his face the small wince that came with Forge's comment, as while he wouldn't admit it, Tommy was getting tired of his asshole defense, but it wasn't like he could just drop it now.

"Funny-strange, or funny-ha-ha?" Forge asked, not moving from where he
stood. "Because, you see, I might be a world-class jerk at times, but
even I managed to get over myself and start making up for where I've
screwed up with people. Of course," he added after the slightest of
pauses to steel himself, "at my most antisocial I only hurt
myself. So you've got a bit of a longer road there."

Tommy turned his desk chair around the look at Forge, crossing his arms over his chest as he glared up at the other boy. "Since when did you become a guidance counselor along with a mechanic?" He turned back around, not wanting to look at the Forge during his next admission. "Plus would it matter if I tried? Your right, I have a longer road...but it's been blocked since I got here. And don't give me any of that 'you haven't tried bullshit.' How can I try when I know if I do, it won't go anywhere."

"I'm asking if you want to try," Forge said coldly. "Yeah, you
beat Jay damn near to death. Over something that I'm hoping you're
thinking is a pretty stupid reason now. But if you want help becoming
something more than the waste of oxygen that you were, people are
going to help you - so long as you show them you want to be more than
that. And that means making things right."

Letting out a long breath, Forge glanced past Tommy to the window.
"Part of me can't help but look at you and remember seeing my friend
beat half to death, stomped down in that gutter until he was bleeding
and broken and barely alive. I found him there, and I've never seen
anything that horrible in my life. And that was because of you." Forge
turned his head, fixing Tommy with his iciest stare. "And if you're
still that person, then for all I'm concerned, you can walk out into
traffic and play with a semi. I'd be glad to arrange the meeting. But
if you want to be something better than that, you deserve the chance."

Tommy closed his eyes and muttered, "I do want to try but it's not that easy." He was tempted to look over his shoulder but instead he grabbed the arms of his chair, gritting his teeth. "I still don't know exactly how I feel yet...about others I mean." His voice got softer, more strained. "The FOH thing...it was my life. The things I did and said...it was my life. Even what I did to...Jay. It was like...powers training to you." He winced saying the winged mutant's name. " Do you understand how hard it is to change your entire being? I want to and I'm trying...but trying in the safety of my room and around people are totally different. I've just gotten comfortable being in a room with more then three other students in the room..." He immediately pictured Kyle's face in his, baring unhuman teeth at him.

His voice broke off with a "Christ!" and he quickly stood from his chair, picking up a cigarette and lighter from his desk and went to the window, cracking it a bit before lighting the cigarette and puffing it slowly. "I don't know what I'm doing and that unnerves me more then anything." His gaze was out the window, not at Forge. "It's why I can't give up on my previous self right yet and why I've been pouring myself into studying my mutation. It's the only solid thing I have and it's the only thing keeping me sane at the moment." His hands were shaking and he was mentally cursing himself for being so damn weak. Especially in front of Forge. Amoung everything else, he hated being weak...which is yet another reason why he felt he couldn't leave this room. He couldn't let others see him like this. Tommy couldn't before and he certainly couldn't now and it had nothing to do with the FOH.

Forge folded his arms and leaned against the wall, watching Tommy
exhale smoke out the window. "I had it a bit backwards than you did.
Went to the hospital, then found out I was a mutant. My mutation's
just not as obvious, it'd probably been active for years," he
explained. "It didn't change how I thought of myself. This-" he rolled
back his sleeve to where the metal of his prosthetic arm meshed with
his skin. "This changed things. I screwed up, big time, and because of
that, I'm always going to be a freak. Even here."

He picked up one of the solid nickel soda cans, absently scratching at
the metal with a finger. "I understand where you're coming from - I
do. Don't get me wrong, I'm not offering to be your best buddy here or
anything. The stuff you've done... that can't just be automatically
forgiven and forgotten. But if I had to learn anything when I came
here, it's that you end up finding more than yourself to lean on. That
and, hey, being a freak isn't so bad."

Tommy smirked sarcastically. "I'm getting used to the freak part. It's the relying on people who might not be able to forgive and forget... I wouldn't if I were them. How can I feel safe...how is it *sane* to rely on people like that?" He closed his eyes and flinched...a moment later, the cigarette fell from his fingers, turned to lead, the tip quickly burning out in a puff of smoke since he couldn't transform what was burning. Sighing, Tommy just crossed his arms and continued to stare out the window.

Forge shrugged, the motion making his mechanical arm flex oddly. "No
one's promising you sane. But at the absolute worst, no one's going to
hate you any more than they already do. So looking at it logically,
you've got nothing to lose."

Tommy finally turned to glare at the other teen. Then he sighed. "You got that right...And okay, if your so smart, where do you suggest I start? If I walk around smiling and saying hi to people, they'd lock me up, not to mention it would painful to me."

Forge thought about it for a moment. "Usually someone suggests a movie
night now and then. Nothing big or oppressively social, just watching
the TV with other people in the room. It might not be a big giant
group hug, but it's a start. And yeah, not everyone's going to accept
you. Not at first, anyway."

Tommy rolled his eyes. "Wonderful...so while I get accused of not trying, I have to wait on someone else..." He sighed. "That wasn't directed at you...I'm just frustrated. I don't like being helpless..." It was a big step that he was even explaining to himself to someone in the mansion but he did stop before he went any further. "And I don't care of they accept me or not...I just want to feel safe when I leave this room." Okay so that wasn't exactly it...but he wasn't about to admit to being lonely.

"You know, not so much with the pity here," Forge drawled, inspecting
the can. "You're going to have to put out a lot of effort convincing
people just why they shouldn't see you as just this monster that you
used to act like. But as to feeling safe - keeping your hands out of
the girls' underwear drawers is a good step in that direction."

"I wasn't asking for pity." He spat defensively, then bit his lip and turned away. "I am quite aware of the work I need to do. I haven't just been sitting in here studying chemistry...I had to convince myself first." He turned and grabbed 'The Count of Monte Cristo' from his bed side table. "I could have told you that was a bad idea...I'm off to go find a place to read. If you want any of this junk..." With that he kicked a nickel can "take it."

"Thanks," Forge said, pocketing a few random metal chunks. He turned
to go, then paused at the doorway, looking over his shoulder. "Don't
worry about the pity," he said sharply. "I think you burned all that
out during the coma stage. Now if you can just get people to tolerate
you when you're conscious, hey, we can start calling you the
miracle worker."

Tommy just glared at Forge and waited for the boy to leave the suite before he did as he said, and left to find a place to read, his thoughts racing.



Frustrated by Forge, Tommy goes to the sunroom to find someplace quiet to read. He finds a very distraught Terry, who at first tries to be general, but eventually opens up to him about the horrors of her past month. Tommy listens and evens gets to vent about his conversation with Forge. In the end, neither are happy but both feel a bit better.

Revenge on the suite of morons had lifted Terry's spirits briefly but soon enough the day seemed to tumble in on her and she ended up retreating to the sunroom, guitar in hand, notebook under her arm and a seat facing the window so no one would see if she couldn't stop crying again. Because she felt totally alone and abandoned, it only made sense to her that she should physically remove herself from others. Down in the sunroom, the guitar stayed in its case and the notebook remained closed. Terry clutched a throw pillow to her chest and tried not to think
Tommy had needed escape. After his conversation with Forge in his room, not even his normal sanctuary felt safe so he went searching for a mostly empty room. With 'The Count of Monte Cristo', his comfort book, he headed for the sunroom, a place he knew most students avoided for some reason.

He walked right by where Terry was sitting and didn't even notice she was there until he turned around and started violently out of his own thoughts when he recognized her. Tommy tripped backward over a leg of a couch and fell over the arm, back onto the main cushions. Once he was settled, he looked up over his legs, which were still hanging over the arm. "Hey..." He said gloomily when he noticed she looked as bad as he felt.

Terry jumped about a mile when he fell and was still wide-eyed when he spoke, her heart pounding. She wiped her eyes, blinking rapidly, though there was nothing she could do about their red rims. She sat up very straight as if to counteract her distress. "Are you all right?" she asked, referring to the tumble he'd just taken.

He nodded distractedly as he swung his legs over so he was sitting on the couch properly. Tommy had noticed Terry had been crying and he wasn't sure what he should do. Would she except comfort from him? "Yeah, I am. How about you?"

She shrugged and reached down to pull her guitar out of its case. "I'm just working on...stuff. If the noise will bother you then you might want to find someplace else to read." Her voice was carefully neutral, neither trying to get rid of him nor encourage him to stay. It was better to remain aloof and detached. To just not care.

Tommy frowned slightly. Now that didn't add up. "You weren't working on stuff when I walked in, you looked like you had been crying." So he'd never been subtle. "I know I'm not your favorite person but I'll listen."

"I was taking a short break," Terry said defensively, her shoulders hitching up. But Terry was terrible at repressing her feelings and sighed immediately. "I'm just not having a very good...month," she confessed quietly, looking down at her guitar, "There's been a lot of things that have gone wrong recently."

Tommy bit the inside of his cheek thinking of how to approach that. "I've been hiding in my room for the last few months so I'm afraid I'm ignorant. Want to explain?" He had an idea when he'd read the journals yesterday, but he wasn't exactly sure plus he knew it would be good for her to vocalize what was bothering her. Plus, dealing with her problems allowed him not to think about his own.

"Not really, no." Terry placed her fingers carefully and picked out a simple melody. "My audition didn't go very well yesterday. And I ran into Jean."

"Audition? For what?" Well, it was a start and at least she was being honest. "And Jean I can understand." Tommy had not been happy when he'd heard about Jean's instant personality change, considering she was one of the few people he trusted.

"A music scholarship. If I at least minor in Music then I'm eligible and since I thought I'd double major..." She shrugged. "I had to go down and play for them. I don't think they were impressed though. Then I saw Jean and...she just. She told me some things that I didn't want to hear even if I needed to hear them."

"Hey college recruiters never make it look like they want to take you. I think they enjoy making you nervous." Then he frowned slightly. "What did she say to you that you thought you needed to hear?"

"Just...stuff. I had some problems last month, there was..." no power on earth that could make her say the words 'I thought I was pregnant' to her ex-boyfriend. God and all his angels couldn't do it. "some medical stuff. And I was having a hard time dealing with it."

"So? What could she say that would make it worse?" He was trying to follow but something really wasn't adding up to why she was so upset. Tommy sat forward, leaning his arms on his knees.

Terry kept her eyes on her hands, still slowly picking through a melody just to give herself something else to concentrate on than the lump growing in her throat. "She didn't, exactly. It hurt because she was...mean. But I needed to hear it. I mean, not just about the medical stuff but about everything, about why she left. She said that she hated being taken for granted and that all teachers do really and that she was sick of us." Not going to cry. NOT going to cry. ...damnit. "I just wish I'd known."

Tommy bit the inside of his lip, so he wouldn't snap at Jean's character. He liked the woman but Terry was obviously hurting because of her. "From what I've seen, it doesn't look like Dr. Gray is in her right mind." Slowly, so she could stop him, he moved her guitar slightly so he could sit beside her, leaving his book on the other couch. "And frankly, if she was...she had no right to take it out on you. She should at least have enough responsibility for that."

"Jean..." Terry realized suddenly that she hadn't thought of her as Dr. Grey since yesterday and shuddered, feeling like something was broken. "She was always honest. I wouldn't have wanted her to act any other way. Sometimes the truth hurts." She looked up at him, tears streaking her cheeks again. "Right?"

Unable to help himself, Tommy reached up to wipe the tears off her cheek. "Yeah, if anyone knows that, it's me." He gave her a small smile to try and get her to at least stop crying. "But still...if she was your friend and your mentor...that's not the way to tell the truth. Even I know that."

For a moment, she tilted her head into his touch then she drew away and looked out the window. "I guess." She caught her bottom lips between her teeth, chewing on it, focusing on the pain like she had her music. "Can I ask you something?"

After his conversation with Forge, Tommy was not keen on questions asked of him, but this was Terry. He dropped his hands into his lap then said quietly, "Sure."

She looked back at him, "What constitutes breaking up? And...how soon after can you start, um, looking for someone else? Are there rules?" Before coming to the school, Tommy had been popular. If anyone would know what guys thought about these things, he would.

Tommy blinked in surprise. That was definitely not the questions he'd been expecting. "Well...it depends. If ya wanna stay friends with the person, mutual is always good and a small waiting time is usually polite. If you don't care, you declare it over and move on as soon as you want." He shrugged. "Dating was more political then actually liking in the FOH. You were the first girlfriend I had that I actually respected as person so I'm sure it would be different. If I had specifics I could help..." He wasn't fishing intentionally, he just wasn't sure how to answer without them.

Terry nearly started her explanation with 'hypothetically' then decided that was stupid. "Bobby and I...I asked him for a break. To deal with the medical stuff. And...I guess that means we're broken up. And I wanted to know...how soon is it okay? You know?"

"Ahhh...a break. A break is not necessarily breaking up. It's like a seperated married couple. Thier not together, but still married. If you even just respect Bobby...I'd break it off totally first. Looking for someone on a break can only lead to misunderstanding." He shrugged slightly. "And once the break is final...that's up to you. But can I ask a question now?"

Terry thought of clarifying then just nodded instead. Better let him ask the question than try to explain the mess that was her love life for the last month. "Go ahead."

She wasn't going to get away from explaining. "I thought you and Bobby were happy together. What happened?"

Terry felt like he'd punched her and shook her head, temporarily unable to speak. Her throat was already raw and protesting all this crying. She covered her mouth then her whole face, ready to cry again and embarrassed by it. "I...thought I might be pregnant." So much for that resolution. "He asked me to marry him and I said no then I found out that I wasn't really. It was just a mistake. And I...couldn't just pretend everything was normal again so... After I asked him for a break, we...fought. A lot. And he kissed Jay."

Tommy could only sit in shock for a moment, completely NOT expecting that answer. Carefully, he removed her guitar from her lap and placed it on a side table. Then, he wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulder, not wanting anything but to give comfort and support. "Oh god Terry...What a jack ass to do that..." Tommy could barely find the words to describe what he felt about Bobby right now. "Not even Josh would have the nerve to treat a girl like that...I'm so sorry." He wouldn't admit the small bit of hope he allowed himself to feel.

Terry turned into his arms and clung to him, sobbing into his shoulder, body wracked by the violence of her tears. "I didn't..." she gasped for breath, voice thick and choked. "I didn't want him to go leave. I just needed some space. And I don't know what to do!"

Taking that as permission, he hugged his arms around her, holding her close and letting her cry for a few long moments before he answered, rubbing small circles on her back. "You thought you were pregnant...with his child nonetheless. Space should have been easy for him if he really cared...That's a traumatic thing to get over. I know, I had a friend I had to help through it once...it took her ages. But she had her friends around her, including her boyfriend, so she made it. You should have the same." And it was times like those Tommy wished he could point out to show that the FOH wasn't all evil...it was a family that supported each other. Anyone and everyone deserved something like that. Pushing those thoughts aside, Tommy gave her a small grin, hoping to at least get her to smile. "I've been experimenting. Want me to try and turn him into copper?"

Terry gave a half-laugh, half-sob and shook her head. "No. I was angry at him before but not anymore. I just hate that I ruined everything." She sat up slowly, wiping her eyes, then, ineffectually, at his shirt, now damp from her crying. "I didn't want the baby. I was sure it would ruin my life."

"You didn't ruin everything." He insisted as he batted her hand away, quite fine with the damp spot on his shirt. Who was he trying to impress anyway? "And still doesn't matter. I still don't see how any of this is your fault. It's more Bobby being a self-preserving ass. And even if you didn't keep the baby...he still had no right to do what he did. Pregnancy isn't a joke, even aborted ones."

Terry looked horrified, jerking away, "I would never have aborted a baby!"

Tommy shrugged. "Sorry, I assumed when you said you weren't keeping it. I wasn't trying to imply you would...sorry." He bit his lip to give her another apologetic shrug.

"I would have given it up for adoption. You don't fix mistakes by killing things." She crossed her arms tightly, closing herself off. Bobby hadn't even asked. Had just known that she wouldn't even consider something like that. "I wasn't pregnant. That's all." Terry sighed. "It still shook me up."

Tommy cursed himself. Good going Jones... "I didn't mean that. I'm sorry!" Feeling her close up, he took his arms away and stood up. "Yes, it did shake you. You have every right to be shaken up. Bobby still had no right to do what he did. And now, since I've obviously screwed up and you don't want to listen anymore, I'll just go." He rolled his eyes, at himself, muttering "See Forge, this is what happens when I try..."He was so frustrated that he almost tripped, again, as he went to retrieve his book.

"What does Forge have to do with anything?" It was almost impossible to speak outside of Terry's hearing. She was unhappy with him but not surprised. Most people, she knew, would have assumed the same. Most of her unhappiness stemmed from the fact that now he was running off.

He turned, obviously frustrated with himself. "Forge returned a book to me today and it came with a lecture on how I'm not trying to be social. This is why I don't try. I don't know what I'm doing and just upset other people." He hated this weakness, the fact this was the second time it had taken hold of him today. Tommy made sure he wasn't touching anything that he'd accidentally turn to lead.

"You don't fix that by running away!" Terry gaped at him then shook her head. "Fine. Go. Don't tell anyone about any of this, okay?"

"I wasn't running! I thought you wouldn't want me here anymore so I would save you the trouble..." Then he gave her a small guilty smile as he scratched his head. "I really need to stop assuming things don't I?"

Terry looked at him for a long moment then sighed, "Aye."

Tommy nodded at that and returned to the seat, but giving her some distance. "I'm sorry for trying to run, that's not helping my frustration. My guess is the close proximity of the conversations just got to me. This is the most human conversation I've had all year."

Terry pulled her guitar back to her. "Well, I suppose you've no where to go but up from here. Forge lecturing, me weeping all over you. Tis a good start." She tilted her head at him, "You said you've been practicing. Does that mean you're okay with all this?"

He nodded as he leaned back into the couch. "Yes, I have. It's why I have made a hermit of myself. I wanted to get used to the whole thing before I accidentally did something I would regret. It...well, it took a while."

Terry smiled, the first genuine one she'd had in ages, "Sometimes that's what it takes. I'm glad you did." She folded her hands on her guitar, "I had faith that you would."

Tommy mirrored the gesture with his own. "I'm glad someone did. Admittedly, I didn't. And while, yes some things are still weird and I'll never understand...and there are some things I can't quite let go...but yeah, I'm okay with it." If she had that much faith in him, she deserved the truth.

"Just so long as you don't make the new girl cry. She's the sweetest little thing." Terry told him. She expected him getting really used to mutants would take years. Patience was one of the virtues for a reason.

He blinked at her. "Another one?"

Terry hesitated, not really sure what he meant by that so just decided to define who she meant. "Karolina. The girl from California. She's a sweetheart. Only 13."

Tommy just shook his head. "This place is filling up fast." He unintentionally clarified, his nerves not getting any better at the thought of more people to please.

"It's a school. That's what it does." Terry smiled softly, "You can't even imagine what it was like when I got here. Just me and Bobby...oh God. Bobby." Her face crumpled. "I'm sorry, Tommy. I just...I need to be alone, please."

Nodding, he stood up but not in such a rush this time. "Hey, I understand." He put a friendly hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. "If you need anything...anything You know where to find me." Tommy gave her a small wink as he collected his book and turned to go.

"Hopefully not hiding out in your room," she said, forcing herself to smile until he'd left the room.