Jean and Jean-Paul

[x-cynosure.livejournal.com]

Jean-Paul uncovers old information about his parents and indulges in his usual not-coping methods. Jean finds him and helps to put things into perspective.



Dizzy.

Short of breath.

Shivering. Jean-Paul had almost forgotten what that felt like. He'd almost pushed things too far this time, flown too high, taken in too much thin air. He hadn't crashed, but he didn't remember landing. He'd gotten back down somehow, that was the important thing. He just had to...calm himself. It would all be all right if he could just calm down. But no matter how he told himself that, it wasn't working.

So he sat tucked against his tree in the dark, arms tucked against his body, and shuddered, waiting to warm up again.

Jean didn't often fly just for the hell of it, but there were some nights when the sky just called to her. Or, possibly more often, when the mansion and it's residents were just too close and she needed to get out. Tonight had been a bit of both and she'd wandered farther afield than she usually did, soaring above the woods out to the far ends of the school's grounds before looping back in towards the house, which was when she caught the mental flutter. Distress. Lots of it. And while Jean-Paul's mind was recognizable, the depth to which he'd been shaken by something was startling and she couldn't help but check on him.

The dark, miserable huddle among the roots of the old oak didn't even look up as Jean touched down in front of him.

"I am n-not hurt," was all the protest he could think to make. "You do not need to worry. Just needs time."

"Yes," Jean said somewhat wryly, although her face was kind. "Because being hurt is the only cause I might have to worry. What has happened?"

"My parents died. It was a long time ago." Jean-Paul finally looked up, a weak, stillborn smile on his pale face. "I don't cope. I know this. I just...keep moving until it doesn't matter. I know. I didn't think this could matter. The nightmares...I just wanted to know what was wrong with me so that I could leave it behind as well."

Jean frowned, looking worried. "Speaking from personal experience, it's not a method I'd recommend. I take it you found something out? From the coroner or...?"

Jean-Paul swallowed and forced himself to his feet.

"It is almost what I suspected. The car did catch fire in the collision, my sister and I were trapped in it. I should have stopped reading there, I had my answer, non?" Rambling. Circumventing. It was hard to think about these things, let alone say them. "And what did I think, that at two years old I got Jeanne-Marie out of the wreck myself?" Focus. He sighed. "My father died on impact. My mother some hours later died from burns and smoke inhalation gotten from getting us out of the wreck. I'm having a...considerably difficult time processing that last idea. And all the implications that come with it." Another not-smile as he finally looked up. "You may find this difficult to believe, but I tend not to see myself as a very lovable person. Shocking, I know."

She offered him a sympathetic smile which had nothing at all to do with humor. "We none of us have the most realistic views of ourselves."

"Ah." Jean-Paul held up his forefinger in a professorial point. "But I had the irrefutable evidence. The people who first took me in, the Martins -- the were my mother's relations, but I thought they were my parents for a long time. I knew they were never happy with me, though I did not know why until I knew the whole story. I was not theirs, and if they could not afford to have me and my sister, then they could not afford to have me and their own children. After they died, there was one foster home after another which did not want me. And Raymonde..." His expression tightened. "That had nothing to do with me, and everything to do with him being a good man. Just...again and again. But I could live with it. I could anticipate it...and then this." Jean-Paul laughed. "Orphans are supposed to have the daydream that everything would have been fine if their parents had lived, aren't they? I never did and I am too old to start now."

"If you're looking for wry humor," Jean said, frowning slightly at the little laugh, "then this is probably the bit where I point out that finding out his father lived definitely didn't turn out to be the dream Scott thought it would be." She sighed. "I'm not going to tell you it would have all been fine if things had been different, it probably wouldn't have been. It would have been different, and some would be better and some would be worse. It would have been different, but it wasn't. Perhaps you're too old to start dreaming of a different childhood, but you're not too old to take what you have learned and make of it what you can. Your world view has altered. Ok, there you go. Welcome to the new world."

"I think it's going to take me a while to line my experiences up with the new world. My first reaction to what I was reading was that she wasn't allowed to do that -- I hadn't asked her to." The attempt at composure slipped, though Jean-Paul at least managed to withhold the conclusion of that statement. "Sorry. I did not mean to be so...dramatic." Not where anyone could see, anyway.

Jean shook her head in denial. "Don't worry about it. Certainly don't apologize. I once abandoned a group of students in DC to go dress up in black leather and stalk my husband after claiming I'd thrown my wedding ring in the Potomac; trust me, you're not being dramatic."

Jean-Paul's eyebrows rose slightly. So now he was trying to get his head around two things that did not quite fit into his world view. "I do feel better about trying to kiss the mesosphere now. Merci."

"There we go. That's what I offer. Perspective as towards self destructive behavior." She smiled faintly. "And I'm buying the next round at Harry's, whenever you're up for it."

"How about now? I think the borders of my world could use some softening. With that and enough mental effort, I may be able to jam these strange concepts into place."

Jean's eyes went vaguely unfocused as her mind drifted off to touch Scott's briefly, and then she flashed Jean-Paul a more solid smile. "Deal. Come on, we'll fly. You can show me how thoroughly outclassed I am, and reassure you're not about to taste more sky than you ought, and then we don't have to worry about driving home. Unlike Nathan, I am not prone to flying into the lake, even when I'm drunk."