xp_logs | Nate and Jean-Paul, backdated to Thursday night

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Nate and Jean-Paul cope with the news of the attack. Or not.

Jean-Paul had never been good at absorbing bad news among a crowd
--there was too much chance of him being seen to react, and for all the recent beatings it had taken,
his pride still couldn't stand that. Even in his own room, there might have been a chance of other people
appearing, perhaps wanting comfort, perhaps with more bad news. He needed enough selfish bastard time to get past
the worst of any emotion, then he'd be fine.

He'd compromised in his flight -- the quarry was close enough to the
school that he could be there quickly if truly needed, far enough away
for privacy. Jean-Paul lighted in the branches of an old oak some yards back
from the lip of the fall and tuckedhimself away. No matter what, there really
was no getting away from the life, was there?

The telekinetic shockwave wasn't really directed at the oak
tree; Cain hadn't been gone for long enough for Nathan to lose the
habit of years in minding what he did on the grounds. But he was
distracted and tired, his thoughts definitely elsewhere, and the tree
caught the edge of it.

The tree rattled and Jean-Paul popped out of the branches like a hummingbird,
on edge until he caught sight of the familiar figure seated below. He folded his arms
folded across his chest and he scraped his nerves to dredge up his typical snark.

"Dayspring. You could at least have the decency to wait until I get drunk
and proposition you before trying to throw me back across the border."

Silence was the only answer for a long moment. "...sorry," Nathan's
voice said from down in the quarry, a little faint with distance. "Not
paying attention."

Jean-Paul scowled down at the other mutant from his vantage point.
Even if Nate was too far away to see his annoyance, the man was a
telepath. Surely he could sense a desire to be left alone.

After a few moments, Jean-Paul dropped down to the floor of the quarry
himself, taking a seat on the jumbled pile of broken rock that Nate had chosen.

"Any other news?"

"Why would I know?" It wasn't said sulkily, just... flatly. "Charles
is still in Cerebro, as far as I know. And who knows what Snow
Valley's doing. And I was here first."

Jean-Paul grumped under his thoughts, but leaned slightly, so that he
and Nate were resting back to back. It was odd to not be bothered the chill
of the night, but to feel that spot of warmth so very keenly.

"It seems like the only way to get out of the life is feet first, doesn't it?"

"You may want to keep your distance," Nathan said in the same flat
voice. "Apparently being friends with me is a curse. Although,
admittedly, that doesn't explain the other three people in the car..."

A small, sharp bark of a laugh, a brittle noise bled dry of humor, answered him.

"Our curses cancel each other out, I think. So it's safe for us to sit
here and freeze or mold over or whatever it is we were planning on
doing."

"Dom's getting in around noon tomorrow. I have to go pick her up at
the airport." She'd been very quiet on the phone. Too quiet. "I
think," Nathan went on, choosing his words very carefully, "she gets
to sleep on my couch until I tell her otherwise. I can't do anything
for Pete except look after her for him. Not that I wouldn't have done
that anyway."

"Do you think she'll listen?"

Dom had rather liked Jean-Paul when they'd met years ago, Nathan
remembered. "There's not much else for her to do," he said, the words
clipped. "She's outgrown the need to run around and kick over rocks.
Someone more objective-" David, he thought. "-can go tap our old
contacts in the unlikely possibility that they might have something
useful." If this was the Brotherhood, though, unlikely equalled nil.
The Pack hadn't ever moved in those particular circles.

Somehow, Jean-Paul suspected that a spa day would not be enough to
distract the young woman this time.

"If you need someone to help keep her mind off of things, my evenings
just freed up."

Nathan didn't answer at first. Finally, he shrugged. "I'll keep that
in mind. But she's gotten kind of used to it, too. Losing people.
There's only so many times you can rage at the world..." He really
couldn't summon up any anger himself, which should disturb him more
than it did. "You know," he said after another long moment, "he's
quite literally my oldest friend."

Jean-Paul took note of the present tense, but let it pass without
comment. He didn't have the heart or the energy to hurt anyone
tonight. If the others were dead, as he believed them to be, it would
come to light or not.

"I'm sorry." Sorry that Nate was part of a lifestyle with an even
shorter life expectancy than his own. Sorry that he'd had to lose
anyone else. Sorry that, for having lost more than his fair share of
people, Jean-Paul knew there was little else to say. Platitudes lost
their effectiveness even sooner than rage.

"It's strange, you know," Nathan said. "We can do so much, about so
many different types of situations. Save lives, kick asses that need
kicking, make a difference." His voice was perfectly steady as he
continued. "Yet every so often, along comes a situation that seems
like it was designed by some... malevolent deity, specifically so that
we can't do a damned thing."

"Yet we will still spend the rest of our lives asking what more we
could have done to prevent it. Every time. If not for all the anger
and sickness piled on top of it all, it might well slide into tedium."
A heartbeat of quiet. "I wish I'd told the Guthrie boy to meet me
earlier for his lessons. Perhaps he would not have been in the car."

"I don't know what I wish," Nathan said. "That people with ill intent
would stop hitting cars traveling between here and the city, maybe.
It's becoming something of a trend." The comment in no way came out
sounding like a joke. "In the end there's not much we can do about it.
This place is not about to get turned into an armed camp. There are
costs to our life here. I think pretty much everyone but the newer
students have long since come to terms with that."

"'There was nothing else I could do, so I took a nap'? Still true, but
it gets no easier to cope with. Breaking things at least feels like
progress." Jean-Paul toyed with a few slate chips, then pitched them
at the walls of the quarry. "What do you think the odds are of
anything new being found out by noon tomorrow?"

"Slim to none, unless Charles has a breakthrough with Cerebro." Nathan
shrugged. "A little soon even for that," he said more quietly. "One
way or the other. That big round room is not as much of an answer as
we wish it was, sometimes." And under certain circumstances, it wasn't
an answer at all, but he shied away from that possibility.
Probability?

"Come with me, then. I came out here to be alone and it sucks more
than I thought it would. I promise we'll be sober by the time you have
to go pick up Madame Dom. Or I will be anyway and I can drive."

Nathan levered himself up off the rock. "I've had more to drink in the
last few weeks than I have in a good long while," he said, sounding
only tired, now. "Moira's going to start tsking at me."

"I won't tell on you if you don't tell on me." Jean-Paul fell into step beside his friend as they headed up.