Jean-Paul, Jeanne-Marie and Nathan

[x-borealis.livejournal.com]

Nathan intercepts a panicked and travel-worn Jeanne-Marie to explain what has happened to Jean-Paul.



Generally the house had certain unspoken, unofficial rules. One of said 'rules' had to do with X-Men and running places in non-emergency situations - as in, you weren't supposed to do it. It made the children anxious. Nathan was absolutely not thinking about the reaction of anyone he passed and/or ran down as he hurtled down the stairs and towards the front door at a pace that his poor aged knees were going to hate him for later.

The front doors of the mansion were heavy wood, and were not precisely knocked off their hinges by his abrupt eruption through them. They did, however, tremble. As soon as he was clear of the porch his exoskeleton flashed into life around him and the firebird launched itself into the air at a rate far exceeding its usual speed of travel.

Jeanne-Marie was not paying much attention to her path either, only the minimal amount necessary to avoid outright collision. Her body was already worn from the trip and her nerves, anxious and wound almost tight enough to snap, prevented any sense of care she might have otherwise taken. She was almost there. Just a little further. The black blur barely managed to slow in time as another figure shot up from the ground, joining her in the air above the otherwise quiet school. Her pale eyes were narrowed, her lips ready to snarl an unkind order in her native tongue about moving from her path...until she recognized his face. "Nathan...!" she breathed quietly. She forced her impulsive hostility back and managed to hold to some semblance of outward calm that her racing mind made utterly ineffective in the presence of a telepath. "Nathan, where is my brother?"

"Jeanne-Marie, slow down," Nathan said, breathing heavily, the wings of the firebird moving in a completely unconscious mimicry of a hovering bird; after all, he didn't really need to beat his wings to stay in the air. "Before you go in there we need to talk. How about we do it on the ground?" Thank God Charles had sensed her coming in. The last thing any of them needed was her flying in Jean-Paul's window, and not just because she'd have set off every alarm in the house.

The speedster forced herself to remain still, silently grateful that the man had not used another name that would have pulled her closer to the loss of control she felt tugging at the corners of her mind. Jeanne-Marie focused on the man before her, even as her thoughts wandered from him. Jean-Paul was here, at least, but something was wrong. Something was wrong or they would not need to bother with mid-air greetings or...'talk'.

"Oui," she relented, forcing her distant gaze to Nathan rather than through him, "We may talk."

Nathan collapsed the exoskeleton and used just enough telekinesis to land lightly at the end of his fall to the ground: the rest, he was saving to grab Jeanne-Marie in case she made a run for it now that he wasn't in her way. He was relieved to discover that he was being overly suspicious as she landed as well.

"He's here," he said, before she could speak. "He's been through something awful, but he's here, and not in any imminent danger."

It took more effort to be back on her own feet again than she expected. It had been a long trip. Jeanne-Marie folded her arms, slim hands cupping her elbows and granting what seemed like much-needed support to her posture. She listened, never more unhappy in her life to learn her senses had been right and her illness had been unprovoked and uninvolved. Those terrible feelings had been her brother's, his agony tearing open their long dormant bond. And she had not believed them. The fact that the danger had passed offered some consolation and some ease to her nerves, but not enough. And she was still afraid. "I knew something was wrong," she said without explanation, regret gripping her throat and making her quiet.

"Take me to him. Please. Tell me what has transpired on the way, but I need to see my brother."

"All right. On the ground, though, if you don't mind?" The front gates were right there, and walking inside would give them enough time to talk about what was going on.

"I don't." Jeanne-Marie fell into step beside Nathan, allowing his pace to lead hers and silently ordering herself not to mind, with mixed results. But he was a friend of Jean-Paul's and possibly of hers, though it seemed like that had been lifetimes ago, and so she would tolerate the condition.

"He was captured," Nathan said as they went through the front gates, even as he carried on a simultaneous conversation with Charles, updating him. "Captured and tortured by a telepath." None of the backstory, he told himself, ignoring the clenching sensation in his chest. Not unless she specifically asked for it. It wasn't germane right now. "There was a lot of damage done to his mind. Charles and Jean have been doing their best to help him. He's better than he was, but he's got a lot of recovery ahead of him."

Jeanne-Marie squared her shoulders to quell a shudder, her folded arms tightening as she listened to Nathan speak. Captured. Tortured. Her brother was in pieces and the best that she could hope for was that they had managed to protect the most important of those strewn shards of him. "...I see." It was all she could manage in response to this confirmation of her fears. "And you as well, I'm sure," she said distantly, with something akin to gratitude.

Nathan managed not to twitch - just. Really, you're not being a coward. You'll tell her. This just isn't the time. She's not here for you. "As much as I can," he said, not quite steadily. "I don't know how to say this, Jeanne-Marie. Part of what was done involved...implanting false memories. Of things that didn't actually happen. I don't know what they put in there about you, but..."

The uneven quality to his voice did not escape Jeanne-Marie's notice, the significance of it compounded by her knowledge of the man, but her thoughts departed from this abruptly as Nathan continued and her composure suffered much the same unsteadiness. "But there will be something," she concluded for him, an indecipherable weight pulling at her tone. "Be direct, Nathan, if you think my presence will push him beyond what he can take. If it will not...I want to help him remember what is true."

"I'm not sure. I'm honestly not. But I think you need to be prepared to take a step back, if you have to."

Jeanne-Marie nodded, wondering with appalling humor how many times Jean-Paul had likely given such warning about her. "I will be prepared," was all she could say around the lump in her throat.

The first reunion between the twins goes less than smoothly.



Nathan stood in front of the suite door for a moment, eyes very carefully not on the woman standing a few steps away. He knocked lightly, then opened it. "Um... Jean-Paul?" he called as he stepped in. "You've got a visitor."

Jean-Paul looked up, head tilted to one side. He had gotten very good at reading Nathan's moods, and the look on his face made him set his book down and rise to his feet. "Oh yes? One who needs announcing?"

"Yes." Nathan stared at him for a long moment, then took a deep breath. "It's your sister."

Jean-Paul glanced toward the half-open door still shielding the visitor from view, his thoughts a tangle of hope, joy, guilt, and panic. One thought stood out above all the others: I do not want her to see me like this. The speedster was frozen in place for a moment, gaze locked numbly with his friend's.

"H-how...?"

"She's outside in the hall," Nathan said, fighting the urge to cross the distance between them. He did not want to provoke him into bolting. That would be bad. "She and I have talked - she's very worried about you." He paused. "She's just out in the hall. Are you all right?" Should I ask her to come back later? he thought a bit wildly, but didn't say.

Jeanne-Marie lingered near the doorway, a silent shadow in a silent hall listening to the words exchanged between the men and feeling her heart twist at the mere sound of her brother's voice. The last she had seen of him, he had been battered to unconsciousness, blood drawn by her own two hands staining his skin. The sudden need to see him, see his face even if it matched that trembling voice, was overwhelming. She stepped inside. "Jean-Paul..."

The flood of images that hit him as Jeanne-Marie came to stand at Nathan's shoulder were brutal, overwhelming, and sent him down to one knee, hands in his hair and eyes squeezed shut as he tried to winnow them out and concentrate on where he was, what was real. "~Sister...~"

The woman had moved beyond Nathan in an instant and she was kneeling beside him, a hand pressed to one of Jean-Paul's that had knotted its fingers in his dark hair and the other upon the opposite arm, holding tight to the fabric of his sleeve. Their bond seared, a throbbing ache that made it hard to breath until the connection fell to neutralizing contact. Her poise had gone, leaving only the frantic sister speaking softly to her brother in their native tongue, "~I'm sorry, brother. Look at me. It is all right, we are all right...~"

A frisson of pain seemed to bloom in the marrow of his bones at her touch. The cold that followed was sickeningly, recently familiar...being cut off from his powers, helpless...

He tore away from her, putting the couch between them, and it took every ounce of his willpower not to go further, to just keep running. He kept his back to both of them, arms folded over his chest and head bowed as he struggled for his composure.

"I...name...I do not know...who to call you..."

"Jeanne-Marie, be careful," Nathan said almost under his breath in a tone that was almost a plea. He could sense the images washing over Jean-Paul's mind, and he didn't dare try to intervene. The last thing Jean-Paul needed right this second was him poking around trying to be 'helpful'.

The way Jean-Paul broke apart from her was almost frenzied and left Jeanne-Marie nursing an unexpected hurt that she refused to allow onto her face. Nathan had told her it would be bad and she had acted on impulse and could not be so sensitive to the reaction her negligence had sparked. Especially knowing she had hurt her brother more. The quiet words from a few steps behind barely reached her as she found her way to her feet again and took no step toward her shaken twin.

"You are speaking to all parts of me, brother," she said gently, "Je promets. I am Jeanne-Marie as you are Jean-Paul." Most days. Such painful honesty was not warranted now and would likely be suspected whether she offered it or not, if he was aware enough.

"~Good. That is...that is very good. I am happy for you.~" But he couldn't look at her. "~I am sorry for this. I...this is not your fault, Jeanne-Marie. I am the one n-not quite myself this time.~" She was his sister. He had given up more for her. He would do this. He steeled his nerves and forced himself to turn and face her. "~I am healing,~" he said quietly, "~but it is slow going. I am happy to see you.~" That was no lie; the parts of him not screaming were.

"~I am not asking you to be. But it's the only answer I have to give and I do not want you to worry.~" Jeanne-Marie almost looked away as he turned, but forced herself to meet that expression held together by sheer power of will and the pale eyes he could do nothing to bolster. She tensed her muscles and forced them into stillness, momentarily grateful for the lack of speedster's restlessness that would have made it that much harder to remain apart from him. "~You owe me no apologies, Jean-Paul.~"

He spoke again and she listened, expression growing softer than she would have liked to allow. "~And I to see you. I know you are healing and that it is difficult, and I am not here to fall apart at your side again. I just want to be here with you. For you.~" Despite her best efforts, her tone trembled, "~I have to believe our bond has rekindled for this if nothing else.~"

Nathan wasn't sure if he should be going, or staying. Jean-Paul did not seem steady at all. He compromised, and retreated part of the way, sinking down onto the couch to give the twins a little additional space.

For his part, Jean-Paul was feeling more acutely distressed with each revelation. The bond that had lain dormant for almost half their lives had awoken again, and he had not known. Worse still was knowing that his sister had been privy to any of the pain and humiliation of the last weeks, but how to say that he was sorry for that without making it seem that he was sorry to see her? Too much, all of it.

"I am sorry, I...I need a moment, could you both...please go?"

Jeanne-Marie did her best not to look as stunned or crestfallen as she felt. Every time she opened her mouth she only seemed to make things worse. She had felt pained fractures of his experience, nightmares that had left her writhing in her bed and screaming loud enough to wake all of Caen, but that did not mean she understood or that she could predict these seemingly innumerable pitfalls. Perhaps it would have been better not to come. She looked at her brother for a long moment, then consented quietly, "...All right." She reached thoughtlessly for the cross she no longer wore and felt only air to greet her fingers. It was absurd. She had stopped wearing it ages ago. "Whenever you are ready." She turned, eyes making no glance toward Nathan as she returned to the hall.

#I'll be right outside,# Nathan said, and hoped that Jean-Paul realized he meant right outside. He thought that camping out just outside the door was not such a bad idea. Closing said door quietly behind him, he offered Jeanne-Marie a slightly strained smile. "Okay," he said, his voice very low, "didn't go as badly as it could have..."

Already positioned against the wall adjacent to Jean-Paul's closing door, Jeanne-Marie looked briefly to Nathan with a dull, glassy quality in her gaze. For a moment, that smile made her hate him. She closed her eyes and allowed her head to roll back against the wall. She, too, needed a moment.

A more collected Jean-Paul invites Jeanne-Marie and Nathan back in for tea and talk.



It took Jean-Paul the better part of half an hour to get himself under control enough to venture back out. He wasn't entirely surprised to see his friend and his sister camped out in front of his door, and only stepped back to let them in.

"I made tea," he offered simply.

Nathan hauled himself back to his feet, trying not to groan (or whimper). Cross-legged positions were not so good, these days. He eyed Jean-Paul for a moment, then let Jeanne-Marie precede him in.

"You could float a battleship on all the tea that gets drunk around this place some weeks."

Despite the lingering absence of her powers, Jeanne-Marie's eyes were up the instant the door opened. Some part of her had become certain it would not happen at all and it was a small relief to see him standing there in the doorway, looking somewhat more like himself. She pulled herself up and looked briefly to Nathan before proceeding. "Merci," she replied quietly as she passed Jean-Paul.

#It's tea or something stronger,# Jean-Paul thought wearily, closing the door behind them, #and you do not want me drunk right now.#

Jean-Paul served their drinks, then took a seat next to his sister on the couch, his expression far steadier than it had been, if apologetic. "Forgive me. I was...there was a part of me that did not believe I would ever see you again."

Jeanne-Marie held the tea carefully without drinking, her attention focused mostly on Jean-Paul as he sat beside her. It brought a rush of reassurance that such a small gesture should not have, though his expression and his words were quick intrude on the simple feeling with something far more complicated. Her expression softened, weakened under a conflicted guilt, "There is nothing to forgive. You had no reason to believe you would." Save the pledge of a madwoman who had beaten him close to death and left the promise on a page stained with his blood. She forced herself not to shudder and set her tea down slowly, if only to give herself reason to pause. "There was much I had to do before I could come back...but I am sorry I did not come sooner."

Oh, how I feel like the third wheel, Nathan thought, sipping at his tea. But he wasn't leaving the two of them on their own. Call it paranoia.

In more pleasant circumstances, it might have occurred to Jeanne-Marie how odd it was for the sibling she knew as so aloof and private with his more tender emotions to be so open before anyone besides herself. But there were other matters to be concerned with.

"I am happy to have you here now. Truly. But where have you been all this time?" Jean-Paul asked softly. His gaze had not left her once since they'd sat down; he was drinking in the sight of her, taking in every detail of the sibling he'd begun to give up for lost.

These were not such circumstances and all Jeanne-Marie was beginning to notice was the difference in her brother, the way his gaze hung upon her as if she were a ghost or some equally miraculous and long mourned thing. She tried to touch his hand again, as if to assure him of her existence. "...Treatment mostly."

He took her hand in his own, giving it a gentle squeeze. "It is wondrous to see results on that front, after so many years. You look so much better."

Jeanne-Marie breathed out softly and squeezed his hand in return, enjoying the feel of his calluses and the familiar curl of his fingers. She smiled very softly, "...Flatterer. Only you would say so when I am a wind-torn wreck. But I do feel better." She had not the last few weeks or during her journey or even during the wait in the hall which had seemed far too long, but such feelings were gone for now. The pad of her thumb stroked his hand gently and thoughtlessly as she began again, "...And you have been here? Did Monsieur Xavier coax you back into his classrooms?" Anything else seemed unlikely; her brother had developed an understandable distaste for teams after Alpha Flight and it might help him now to keep the conversation light. He seemed to be relaxing.

"Since November," he affirmed. "Actually, I came to Xavier looking for work. It has made for an interesting few months. But have you talked to Xavier? Will you be staying?" There was a fragile hope in the words that shone through, despite his best attempts to remain steady.

Nathan cleared his throat softly. "I brought her directly in from the front gates," he said to Jean-Paul, "but I don't think you need to worry about clearing a stay with Charles." Aside from the fact that I don't think someone could get her away from you with a crowbar for the immediate future.

Unable to give an answer herself, Jeanne-Marie was grateful to hear their quiet third party speaking up. She turned her eyes to him, genuine relief and gratitude touching her features at the notion that she would not have to fight for the privilege to stay and be a part of her brother's recovery, "Merci, Nathan." She squeezed Jean-Paul's hand again and returned her focus to him, "It looks as though you are stuck with me."