Jean-Paul and Jeanne-Marie

[x-borealis.livejournal.com]

Jean-Paul and Jeanne-Marie finally discuss the reappearance of their light powers and emerge with rejuvenated resolve about their relationship as well.



"There you are." Jean-Paul landed easily on the roofcouch beside his sister, noting the preoccupied expression on her face. "I was beginning to think that you had decided that turnabout was fair play."

Jeanne-Marie looked up at her brother as he descended to sit beside her, pulled from her thoughts by the sound of his voice. "It is," she replied, forcing a fleeting smile, "But that was not my intention. If I wish to teach you a lesson, I will find somewhere more exotic than an old couch perched on a roof. Though it is not without its charms." The expression had dwindled before her light words had ended and she reclined back into her corner of the cushions, pale eyes trained uncertainly upon him. "Is...there a reason you have been looking for me?"

There was no use in holding back. "We have been putting off working with our powers," he said softly. "I thought I should ask if you...if your concerns are the same as mine."

The twin considered, briefly, how to answer. There were options apart from the truth that were more appealing, denials and reassurances that may have been more pleasant to hear. But she doubted she would be able to convince either Jean-Paul or herself of their validity. Jeanne-Marie guided her dark curls behind one elongated ear and answered slowly, "...Perhaps some of them may be, but I am mostly concerned for you."

Jean-Paul sighed. "I know that I have given you reason to worry this last week, but I am back now."

"You did what you needed to do, brother. I do not fault you for it." The result was the important thing and the evening they had shared shortly after his return had presented a far more collected and content Jean-Paul. He had even had the will to complain when she had insisted on cooking and to critique her use of margarine instead of canola oil. It had been encouraging. Even if she did wish she could have been the one to aid him. Jeanne-Marie hesitated and raised her eyes to meet his, "...And however you wish to proceed, I will understand."

"Jeanne-Marie, I do not want you to just understand. I want to know what you think of all of this." Jean-Paul rubbed a hand briefly across his brow to tamp down on the edge of irritation trying to needle its way into his tone. "I promise, I am not so fragile that a disagreement will send me running for the woods again."

The woman's lips pursed, spreading a tight line across her face. Though she believed him, or was at least trying her very best to, history had illustrated how poorly their disagreements had a tendency to end, whether significant or mundane. "What I think?" she repeated back slowly, uncertainty etched in her features.

Jean-Paul nodded. "This is no small thing. We..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "We do not have to work with this. We could avoid each other, as we did for so long, but I do not want that. Not again. I want to believe that whatever you asked Langkowski for, that it is over and this is truly a chance to wipe the slate clean. Still...I am not an optimist by nature, and I can understand how you might not wish to explore this. I want to know what you think."

Jeanne-Marie's smile was soft and unexpected and quick to find its place upon her face. She was relieved. "I think as you do. It is our shared gift and I want to believe it will never depart again and that we may put that...spiteful mistake to rest at last. I want to reconnect with you in this way, as all others." Her expression thinned and she shook her head, adding with hesitation, "I know what you have told me, but after you left...I thought it could be too painful a course. I did not want to push you."

"On it's own..." Jean-Paul sighed. "Truthfully, this on its own still would have unsettled me. I am happy for the chance, but there is the voice in the back of my head saying that it will not last, that this will change again, just as things seemed as if they would settle."

"...Sometimes I think everything about us must unsettle you. I know I put you through such trials far too often. I wish I could promise otherwise this time, Jean-Paul, but I cannot." His sister's eyes turned from him, gazing out into the air again and looking distant. Even bold and bright in the sky, the sun's light seemed dim against the memory of their rekindled ability. "...I still wish to try. If you do."

"I wish to. But...I think we have a responsibility to as well. It is not just you and I these days and we need to know what we are capable of." He leaned back against the couch, considering the view of the lawn and front walk below. "Besides, it would be a tad hypocritical to be living in a school where powers training is mandatory for the students and slack ourselves."

"I suppose it is not," Jeanne-Marie admitted slowly, no matter how often her own scope wanted to argue otherwise. For themselves or for the school's residents, the result was the same either way and she did not know why such a simple notion should leave her, even momentarily, as uncertain and forlorn as it did. She looked at him and gave a thin smile, suggesting, "'Do as I say and not as I do' is probably a creed worthy of avoiding, certainly."

Her brother was quiet for a time, his mind still lingering on what she had said about being a trial to him. The question that had had not asked yet pressed against the back of this throat, but he could not ask it now. He still wasn't certain that he ever would -- no matter the answer, he didn't think it could change how he felt, save to satisfy an admittedly selfish and morbid curiosity. The only thing he could accomplish would be to was hurt Jeanne-Marie.

"I would not take it back," he said in quiet non sequitur. "I know it has never been easy between us. Never quite right, no matter how we tried. But we have tried. If I had it to choose again, to walk away from Department H when you came into the room or to know my sister...even knowing what would happen, I still would not forgo it."

Jeanne-Marie had followed his cue, finding silence until he spoke again and even for a time afterward. Her features grew fragile and she looked at her brother, the scars on his neck, before meeting his eyes again. "Even after..." no words her lips seemed willing to produce could describe it and she settled softly upon, "...everything?"

Jean-Paul very deliberately turned up the collar of his shirt, hiding the thin scar from view. "I cannot say I was never angry or never hurt, or that I never wondered just how badly things had deteriorated between us or if they could ever be made better. But even after all of our missteps, we have never given up on each other or on making amends. That we love each other enough to keep trying to be all that we think the other deserves is worth all the painful spots between us."

Pale eyes watched his fingers in their simple task and for a long moment, Jeanne-Marie found herself wanting to pretend there was nothing beneath his collar but untouched flesh. But making amends did not mean forgetting the past or the blood that was on either of their hands. Even if it was real and even if the strange, disjointed memory left her almost ill. She shook her head and leaned to pull the fold of cloth down again, exhaling softly, then reached for his hand, which was settled upon the cushion between them. For a moment there was an intense brightness, then it dwindled into a small glow almost invisible in the afternoon light. "...It is worth it. And I will never stop trying."

Jean-Paul smiled fondly at his sister, an expression which dimmed a bit as the light between them flared and pulsed briefly in response to the rush of emotion. He squeezed her hand briefly, then let go and rose to lead the way back inside. "No time like the present, then. Shall we?"

Jeanne-Marie squeezed her brother's hand in return, firmly, but made no attempt to hold to it as he began to move away. The light faded instantly. After a moment, she rose to follow, "Oui. We have a lot of work to do."