Mnemovore: Wanda and Jake

[x-courier.livejournal.com]

Jake engages in his own special brand of Not Coping after hearing that Jean-Paul and Nathan have disappeared. Wanda tracks him down, knocks him down, and then manages to get him to talk.



Bounce. Bounce. Lift. Release. Follow the ball.

Bounce. Bounce. Lift. Release. Follow the ball.

Bounce. Bounce. Lift. Release.

It was somewhere in the neighborhood of Jake's hundredth game of Horse against himself; he'd lost count a long time ago, which had been the point--to lose himself in the sound of the ball hitting the ground, the swish of the basket, the slap of his trainers on the pavement as he chased down the ball. He wasn't thinking, wasn't trying to do anything except put the ball through the hoop, to keep pushing himself until he couldn't move any more.

Bounce. Bounce. Lift. Release. Follow the ball.

The ball hit the rim and almost went in but a stiff wind pushed it back the other way; it spun away from Jake and bounced towards the edge of the basketball court. It finally rolled into a pair of black boots that had just stopped. Wanda bent over to scoop up the ball and straightened up as she balanced it on her hip. She looked as if she'd been out for a while and considering that she was staring at Jake, it was probably pretty easy to guess why.

"I checked every single one of your bakeries," she told him, "after you turned off your phone."

He gave a quick, guilty glance at his wallet and phone where they sat on a bench on the edge of the court before his eyes returned to Wanda. "Can I have my ball back?" he asked tiredly. He really didn't want to talk. Unfortunately, he knew better than to hope that she'd let him be.

"If I give it back, will you pay any attention to anything I say or do?" she responded dryly, her other hand going to her other hip. "Or will you run off to another basketball court?"

He turned away from her before answering, hands on his own hips but out of exhaustion instead of attitude. "Who says I'm going to pay attention either way?"

When Jake started to walk away, Wanda knew what he was going to do - he was going to run again. And he was going to keep running until he could pretend all of his problems didn't exist. But the last time he'd run that far and fast, it had been years since she'd seen him. Her grip tightened on the basketball in a sudden spurt of anger and disappointment.

Like hell was she going to let him do that again to her. Or anyone else.

There was no warning beyond a the slight whistle in the air of something being thrown very hard and very fast and then Jake was face down on the ground with the basketball tangled in his legs.

"Ow!" he yelped, too worn out to keep himself from hitting the ground hard. He rolled over onto his back, suddenly angry. "What the hell?"

"Oh, good. A reaction." Her footsteps towards him were unhurried until her face appeared directly above his. Wanda looked unimpressed. "I always find anger to be a better reaction to something like this than running away. Even if the anger's directed at me."

He glared up at her for a second, but the anger had unlocked a whole host of other emotions, fear, doubt and guilt chief among them. With a defeated sigh, he sagged back against the pavement. "I'm not running away," he muttered.

"Really?" She peered down at him with a growing frown - Jake was many, many things. While she doubted that he would ever cheat on his current suitors, it was hard pressed to find Jacob Gavin ever not looking. He hadn't even attempted to look up her skirt and that, oddly, was very worrying indeed. "Oh good. I'm in heels and I would hate to have to throw one of them next."

He frowned back at her. "I'm still here, aren't I?" It came out more petulantly than he'd intended. He sat up, mostly so that he could avoid the Look she was giving him, his weariness telegraphed by the slump in his shoulders. "I just wanted to play some ball." For four or five hours.

She hummed a little in disagreement as she carefully sat down next to him; Wanda was dressed in one of her suits, so she didn't look happy about sitting down but she didn't want to keep standing either. She tucked her legs to the side and continued to give him a look. "Long enough that I really regretted not putting a tracking device in you?" she asked mildly.

"I could have left it behind," he pointed out, still not meeting her eyes. "It's not like I wouldn't have known it was there."

"Well, that's creepy, thank you for that." Wanda sighed and rubbed at her face, taking care to not rub the makeup off. "Jake, I really do not care if I manage to get you to open up or not about this. But I was worried."

"You're the one talking about chipping me," he muttered. Great. He was reverting to Five Year Old. He rubbed at his mouth, noticing for the first time that his lips and fingers were tingling almost as badly as when he'd first lost his arm; he was going to have to drink a gallon of milk once he let Wanda drag him off of this basketball court. He sighed, defeated. "I'm not allowed to run away. Remy'll kill me."

"Yes, just keep thinking about Remy. It means when I get to you, you won't suspect a thing." She shook her head and finally reached up to tug out the clip that held at least some of her hair hostage. As it sprang free Wanda combed her fingers through it and kept talking. "You are talking to a Rom, Jake. I understand the need to leave, to branch out when things get rough. I would not have taken you out by the knees if you had just answered your phone three hours ago."

Wanda paused and looked at him, her frown gentling. "They'll find him."

He didn't say anything for a long moment, arms draped over his knees as he stared at the pavement between his shoes. "I turned my phone off because if I hadn't, I'd be checking it every thirty seconds. And I don't want to do that."

Wanda decided not to tell him that someone would have contacted him via telepathy if they had found him or if something had really gone wrong. It would only drive him insane. It was no use berating Jake more for cutting and running - after all, he hadn't actually skipped the city.

State.

...country.

"I know," she responded, giving up and stretching out on the ground. The suit would survive and she'd spent too much time pounding the pavement in her attempts to find Jake. "Waiting and not knowing. I know how awful that can be and it never gets any better."

He ran a hand through his sweaty hair, pushing a chunk of it out of his eyes. "It wouldn't matter if I didn't care so damn much," he muttered. "It's enough to make me wish I hadn't come back here."

Despite her prone state, Wanda was still able to knock some wind out of him with an open handed smack to his stomach. "Don't make me beat you," she said mildly. "If I hear you say that again without actual cause, I will." She peeked over at him and continued, "Sucks, doesn't it? When you realize how much you actually care.":

"I blame Xavier," he grumbled, rubbing absently at his stomach where she'd smacked him. The fact that he hadn't said a word of complaint about her hitting him spoke volumes about his mental state. "I think he puts something in the water that makes everyone care, because I don't unless I'm here." And most of the time, he preferred it that way.

"Oh yes, let us blame the bald man in the wheelchair - perhaps he puts something in that damnable tea of his." Wanda pushed herself up on her elbows so she could actually see Jake instead of staring up at the city sky. "And you care when you are not here - you just think you do not. It is easier to pretend, after all."

Jake resisted the urge to say "nuh-uh"--he was feeling like enough of a five year old as it was. "It's brilliant, really," he said instead, "a telepath who poisons people. He can squish them with his brain; who would ever suspect him of doing something so mundane?" It was possible he could distract her away from talking about him, about caring. Unlikely, but possible.

"You know he can probably hear you from here," she said dryly. Her head throbbed - he wasn't the only one worried. She enjoyed Jean-Paul's company, true, but she was closer to Nathan and she was just as worried about him. "Would it help if I told you the pain is worth it?" she asked suddenly, no longer looking at him again.

It was hard to see the stars when you lived in New York City. Even the least populated part of the city meant that the glow still blocked out the natural parts of the sky. But she looked, still, as if she could still them.

He sighed, unfolding from his hangdog slump to flop on his back next to her. "It's not, though," he insisted. "He's just..." Jean-Paul's voice saying the man you're sleeping with rose, unbidden, from his memories--it had been the term Jubilee had pinned on him, apparently, when they'd had their confrontation in Jake's apartment. Jake pushed the memory away quickly, not wanting to think about the conversation or the intimacy that had followed. He swallowed. "We were just having fun. Screwing around."

Wanda nodded, her hair giving her quite a nice cushion between skull and hard ground. "Oh yes. It is all fun and sex until someone gets hurt. Or until someone develops feelings. Trust me, I know how feelings get in the way." She smiled a little bit at that - the ache for Stephen was still there but it was duller now. She just missed him. "But sometimes they do get in the way - even if they are not all your feelings."

"Feelings are stupid," he muttered. Hesitantly, his fingers reached for hers, twining through them. "He wanted to have the Talk when he got back," Jake said quietly. "To reevaluate Where We Stood."

Her fingers tightened around his and squeezed gently. "That sounds fairly, well, frightening, to be honest." Rubbing her thumb in circles on his hand, Wanda turned her head towards him. "What do you want?"

He shrugged almost immediately, but still took the time to consider her question. "I...I don't want attachments." I don't want this feeling like my heart's been torn out of my ribcage. "I want simple. Easy."

Wanda wanted to tell him that since coming here, nothing had been simple and easy. But she just didn't have the heart. "I know, babe," she sighed, raising their joined hands so she could kiss the back of his. "You'll get easy again. Just ... maybe not today. And I really wish you were able to get it today, trust me."

He lifted his head and let it drop back against the pavement with a noticeable thunk. "I hate everything," he said, defeated.

Despite their joined hands, Wanda was still able to shift and roll up to her knees without much trouble. She tugged on his hand and she climbed all the way, slowly but surely tugging him up with her. By the time she was standing, Jake's top half was sort of dangling off the ground. "Come on - I'll lie and tell you I'll let you win at basketball when, really, I won't."

Jake looked up at her dubiously from where he dangled from her wrist. "This is going to be like that commercial in the 80s with all the women playing basketball in their patent leather high heels, isn't it?"

She smiled down at him. "I have no idea but it sounds like a wonderful idea, don't you agree?"