Angel and Forge

[x-firestar.livejournal.com]

When things get too much for Angel, she tries to hide out but powers leakage causes Forge to come and find her.



"Okay, here we go. Collimated photon bombardment of a reactive amorphous solid..."

"You're shooting Silly Putty with a laser."

"Precision in recording, partner mine!" Forge protested, lowering his goggles and watching the thick fluid bubble in the chamber and trying to ignore Paige's jibes from where she was perched on a stool taking notes. "If this reacts like I hypothesize, the next step is to test a monomolecular film for optical work and-"

His next words were drowned out by a screech from the equipment as the fluid bubbled up inside the tank suddenly, stiffening and hardening into a burned solid against the glass walls. With a frustrated grunt, Forge pulled his goggles off and kicked the machine. "Dammit! It's got to be external electromagnetic contamination. That's the third time." He picked up a scanner and waved it about, only to look surprised when he aimed it at a nearby wall and watched the needles waver. He met Paige's eyes and they both nodded simultaneously.

"Microwaves."

With a sigh, Forge tossed his lab coat to his partner and headed for the door. Down the sterile hallway, around the corner, and to the door of the darkroom. Which, surprisingly, was locked despite the In Use light remaining dark. Pausing for a moment, he rapped his knuckles against the door. "Angelica?" he called. "You home?"

There was a loud, suspicious sniffle from the other side of the door. "No!" a voice called out and there was a sigh. "Well, that was believable..." A shuffling noise followed and then there was a click as Angel unlocked the door from the other side. She shoved it open slightly and then sat back down on the floor, looking thoroughly dejected. She was surrounded by pictures she'd been in the process of developing and it was rather obvious she'd been in the darkroom for several hours without coming out.

Angel scrubbed at her eyes and blinked up at Forge. "Did I disrupt something?" she guessed, sounding miserable.

"Yeah," Forge said, nodding towards the wall, where some telltale scorch marks were visible even in the dim light of the darkroom. "Paige and I were working on a sensitive exper... hey, are you all right?" He cautiously reached out to the young redhead, then stopped and switched hands, placing his flesh-and-blood right hand on her shoulder. "Do you need me to go grab Jean or something?"

There was a quiet hiccup as Angel shook her head slightly, though she leaned a little more into his hand. "I'm still flaring and I don't know why," she said, "and my pictures aren't coming out, just looking all weird with stripy things, and when you rescued me I was just all flames and no skin." She took a deep breath and flailed her hands slightly. "I don't know what's going on! At least the scary Cajun assassins didn't make me all screwy and now I sound like a raving loony!"

"Oh. Well, microwaves will screw up the silver emulsion in film developing chemicals, so that explains the photos," Forge explained before realizing that Science... might not be the right solution to the problem at hand. "If you're having powers issues, it's probably a logical reaction to the equipment Zemo had you hooked up to. Or... you might need to talk to someone. Take it from someone who's been there, being kidnapped by a supervillain? Not so much with the easy bounce-back."

Angel scooped up a few pictures and played with them a little bit before glancing back up at him. "I stopped being scared of my powers ages ago, got them under control, you know? And now there's this and I don't even know if it's a one time thing or if it's somethin' else. As awesome as my powers are, they can hurt people and now I have even more to hurt them with. I don't even know how I did it, much less where I start how to figure out the balance again." The pictures had been the last straw. She'd sought quiet and solitude in her normal spot in the darkroom but when they'd come out weird and ruined, she'd had a minor meltdown.

Emotionally and powers-wise.

Nodding in understanding, Forge paced around for a moment with his hands in his pockets. "When I look at a machine," he said haltingly, "I can't help but see inside it, how it works, what it's for, how to make it better. Ever wonder why I don't watch too much TV? I actually have to concentrate to keep my attention on the program than on the television. Every day, with everything I see, it's a constant fight to keep my power from controlling how I deal with the world."

He reached out to pick up one of Angel's cameras, delicately turning it over in his mechanical hand. "You see this, and it's a tool to create art. I see it, and it's a single-lens-reflex adjustable focal length rapid exposure system of shutters and levers and gears and film and chemicals. And that? It frightens me sometimes that I don't realize how different that makes me. Each one of us, we have our moments where we wonder: do we control our powers, or do they control us?"

Angel climbed to her feet and stood next to him so she could peer down at the camera in Forge's hands. "Last week, Paul had to yank me away from the stove," she admitted quietly. "I hadn't realized I had been leaning my hand on the burner that was on and my shirt sleeve had caught on fire." She grinned a little and rubbed the back of her head. "Okay, that's still funny but yeah. I know it's part of me but sometimes it feels as it's beyond me and the stuff I do, you know, is more it than me. And I'd just gotten to the point where I thought I knew that answer."

Carefully, Forge set the camera down, refraining from the urge to disassemble it into its components. Flash attachment plus lenses plus reflectors plus housing equals laser, after all. "What we do, all of us," he intoned, "is a gift. We have to use it responsibly, but most importantly - we have to use it. We can't let it use us."

"I really don't want that." If she didn't use it, control it, she'd lose out on one of the things she loved most in the world. She'd forever be causing Forge and Paige frustration, and Forge more than that, if she couldn't clamp down on it. And Angel would never get to figure out exactly what she could do and despite everything, she was curious.

She stared at Forge for a moment before closing her eyes and doing the shut down thing she'd done after Marius had shown her the way. It was easier because it wasn't the full thing she was clamping down on, just the excess microwaves that allowed her to suddenly step up and hug Forge hard without causing him to spark. "Thank you for coming to get us," she said into his shoulder, which was a bit hard to do because they were the same height but she managed.

Awkwardly, Forge patted Angel on the back. "All in a day's work, you know? Wake up, fiddle in the lab, go trounce a few Nazi scientists, come back and play Guitar Hero."

Backing away, she giggled a little. "Would I mess up Guitar Hero right now?" Angel asked.

"If you do," Forge said with a smile, "I'll build a new one. Promise."