Nathan and Jeanne-Marie (backdated to August 20th)

[x-borealis.livejournal.com]

After Nathan talks down a very angry Jeanne-Marie, the two discuss how to best approach to Jean-Paul's recent romantic troubles.



Even with the exhaustion to numb her rage, what remained was almost overwhelming and Jeanne-Marie had retreated to the lake's edge for reasons even she was uncertain of. Perhaps she had hoped the tranquility of the spot would rub off on her, perhaps she had simply hoped for space and a place to quiet the throbbing of her head. Perhaps she had hoped she might run into Jake Gavin on the way and she could drown the bastard in the shallows. Whatever the case, sitting near the water and knotting her fingers in the springy summer grass was doing her mood little good. She was still thinking about her brother and about the state that man had left him in. About the fact that he always seemed to be the one with his feelings dashed on the rocks. About the fact that she had trusted that man for no reason apart from her own desire to believe in the notion of redemption. With a heated, audible sigh she tore her fingers free and and knotted them together against her brow as she ducked her head. There was little to be done now.

There was a very delicate touch on her mind, like a gentle knock on a door. #I have lemonade and a quiet living room,# Nathan's voice murmured in her head. #If you want to join me, the door's open.#

Jeanne-Marie's hands shot down immediately and her body tensed. It took her a long moment to convince herself this was not the invasion she immediately perceived it to be and longer still to stand, but once she was on her feet, motion came quickly. Anxiety made it difficult to move slow. As promised, the door was open, the house was quiet and the living room was empty save for a former X-Man still in the midst of recovery and a pitcher of lemonade. "Putting extra voices in my head? ...Cruel, monsieur." It was supposed to be a joke, but her tight tone saw that it was garroted. "I am sorry I disturbed you. It was not my intention."

Nathan was frowning slightly at her, his book lying open on his lap, but the look in his eyes was concerned. "Do you want to sit down?" he invited after a moment, tentatively. "It's good lemonade. And I flatter myself that I'm not a bad listener."

"Non, merci. I am not the one in need of a sympathetic ear. Not that the man can admit it." Jeanne-Marie made no move to join him, only shifting her tight posture idly and shoving back her long hair as it began to slip into her face. The words continued to tumble out without much consideration for how much weight they truly carried. It was obvious who she meant. "And, as is typical, I am too late to do anything for him."

Nathan's eyes narrowed. "I was thinking I hadn't seen much of your brother the last day or so," he said slowly. "I'm not going to ask if he's okay, because clearly he's not, but... is it the business from the summer?" He looked increasingly unhappy. "The nightmares again, or something related?"

Had she said all that or had the telepath plucked it from her psyche, exposed and threatening to bifurcate? Truthfully, Jeanne-Marie didn't care. She shook her head. "Fresh wounds, Nathan," she amended for him, tension mounting in her words and making them hard and increasingly riotous. No part of it suited her, but she could not prevent the words or the quality of them. "Jean-Paul and that...snake have parted ways. He slept with a woman while he was in London. He...came to Jean-Paul as if it were nothing! Tried to lie with him! Blamed him and forced my brother to take it and to throw him out!" The ardent fury ebbed, slipping into something quieter, but just as strained, a mesh of anger and worry and guilt. "So no. No, he is not 'okay'."

Nathan blinked. Then blinked again. "Gavin... slept around on Jean-Paul," he said, as if he'd just been presented something of mild intellectual interest.

"Oui," Jeanne-Marie confirmed, tone and expression unchanging. His apparent lack of surprise kept her emotions stifled and tangled and she at last moved to join him on the couch, sinking down into the opposite corner and watching him with pale eyes. Had it been so obvious? So expected? Or had she simply forgotten what self-control looked like? "I am worried...this on top of everything else. That...that..." Her hands, settled rigid against her lap, clenched so tightly that she'd squeezed her fingers white. "He has no right!"

"Let's not get off-track, Jeanne-Marie." Nathan's voice was still cool and calm, like an untroubled lake. "Technically, Gavin has the right to sleep with whomever he wants. Ethically, he's an ass with the emotional depth and maturity of a paint swatch."

"You are far too literal and there is no shortage of words for what he is," the woman lamented stiffly, reining her tone in by force and looking miserable.

"Yes, but - you can't actually kill him." Nathan hazarded a faint smile as she looked at him. "Don't get me wrong. In a perfect world, you could go beat the shit out of him, and I'd join you, happily."

Jeanne-Marie did not smile back. Her head ached and she reclined gradually into the back cushion and the arm of the couch behind her, slipping further into her corner. Even if she loathed the fact and could find innumerable justifications to protest otherwise, Nathan was right. And it would not help Jean-Paul. "And since this one is anything but?"

"Regardless of the imperfections of the world, the important thing here is your brother," Nathan said. "I'd say the primary goal should be finding as many pleasant distractions for him as possible. To be honest, I doubt he's very surprised by this. Unhappy, yes, and probably disappointed, but not surprised. Gavin's limitations are not precisely... subtle ones."

"I know that," Jeanne-Marie breathed quietly. "I stayed with him last night. We flew together until he was worn enough to sleep. But this morning he requested space and I gave it." Leaving her with nothing but her thoughts and her throbbing head and her escalating emotions which had wound her almost tight enough to snap. She pushed her dark hair back again, listening. "...No. I suppose they are not. But he is hurt, Nathan. Do not mince words."

"Of course he is," Nathan said. "And believe me, I'm not trying to minimize that." His voice was very steady as he went on. "But he's survived far worse, this summer, and he will make it through this, too. If he needs either of us to be angry at Gavin for him, I think we can both manage it. But if he needs us to keep him company while he wallows, or give him space, or remind him that life goes on even when the person you're sleeping with is an untrustworthy bastard, we can do that too. Right?"

Jeanne-Marie lowered her eyes. She felt foolish having to be talked down and chastised like unruly child and reminded of these simple notions which, though known, had been ineffective in pacifying her temper in the hours parted from her brother. "Right."

"I am not trying to sound condescending," Nathan said with a sigh. "I'm sorry if I do. I think maybe... with everything that happened this summer, I got into sort of the habit of trying to shut down certain emotional reactions when it comes to your brother. I didn't have the luxury of getting angry at the people who hurt him - he needed my help too much for that." He shrugged unhappily. "Maybe that's the wrong reaction here, and maybe I shouldn't be trying to press that reaction on you, in any case..."

It was difficult, but Jeanne-Marie forced herself to listen and to consider. "Non," she replied without looking up at him, "You are right. But on top of all that has already happened, to have someone who knew and who claimed to care for him act like this...perhaps that is why it was so quick to make me lose my head. Or because he looked me in the face and told me he wanted what was best for Jean-Paul and I believed him. Allowed him to do this. Perhaps I have simply retained more of Aurora's temper than I would like to admit. Regardless, it does him no good."

"Gavin may have been completely sincere when he told you that," Nathan said, an edge of bitterness in his voice. "But he's fickle, and that's putting it kindly. You're not the only one who wanted to believe otherwise in this case, though... I have a hard time imagining that anyone with a goddamned conscience could be involved with your brother and be able to be this selfishly careless about hurting him."

Jeanne-Marie's features twisted with the thought. "So far as I am concerned, the only honest thing I have ever heard him say is that he is a liar and a coward. I should have listened more intently. It was not an admission of fault, it was a disclaimer. 'Do not blame me when I act according to my nature'." Her lips drew a tight, thin line across her face. "Salaud." She exhaled quietly, finally looking at Nathan again and pushing Jake from her mind, securing her thoughts where they should have been all along. "May I...is there anything you might suggest? To help my brother? I am not part of his new life yet, as you are. We have been apart for a long time. I do not wish to misstep."

"Don't give him too much space," Nathan said, almost wryly. "He's a stubborn ass, and far too fond of suffering in silence. Let him get his feet back under him and then make a nuisance of yourself. This all has me wishing I was more mobile..."

The twin smiled weakly, though there was nothing even resembling happiness in the expression, "I remember that much." She hesitated, then added, features softening marginally, "Perhaps he might come if we invite him. Poor Nathan all alone in the lakehouse needs to eat too, non?"

"Tell him I'm down to nibbling on cereal," Nathan said, his lips twitching. "See how fast he resurfaces." At the very least, the outright lie - he was being well-supplied with food, as well - would surely make Jean-Paul smile. Or at least snort.

"Cereal and lemonade," Jeanne-Marie replied almost lightly, "Such a sad state for a recovering man. I will let him know." She relaxed slightly, almost reluctantly, and folded her hands in her lap. "I...am sorry you to deal with me this afternoon, Nathan. But thank you."

"I require no apologies or thanks for dealing with Beaubiers," Nathan said, very gravely. "I consider it an integral part of my everyday existence. But in the good way."