Jean & Jean-Paul | Sunday Evening

[x-quebecois.livejournal.com]

Jean and Jean-Paul discuss Vanessa in person this time and make arrangements for tomorrow.


Jean-Paul was waiting near the elevator Jean had specified, still feeling more than a bit ragged around the edges but at least a little better rested than he'd felt when he'd arrived the night before. He'd taken his jacket off folded it over one arm as he leaned back against the wall, shoulder tense though his hands were loose as he fiddled with the buttons on his mobile.

Jean stepped off the elevator, midway through replying to his text when she spotted Jean-Paul. She smiled, warm but a little fuzzy as she glanced him over.

"Well, hi stranger. I'm glad to see you made it here okay."

"Bonjour," Jean-Paul responded, giving her a weary half-smile. "I promised I would get here, did I not? And so I am. As you see, I am all in one piece." He held his arms out, nearly dropping his coat before catching and resettling it over his arm. "And you? I think you are not taking such good care of yourself."

The intention for a hug threw Jean off a little, as when he left they hadn't quite been on those terms yet. But she threw caution to the wind or some other cliche and returned the hug, lingering briefly but not for an extended period of time. She didn't know how into it he was.

"So I see you are," Jean said with a smile before shrugging.

"I'm afraid I'm in extreme doctor mode. Sometimes I forget about the sleeping and the eating. I'll be taking a break for the next couple of days on Tuesday, after the influx of visitors has started to ebb."

Jean-Paul returned the hug and let Jean go when she released him. He wasn't usually one for hugging, but all the women he knew seemed to suddenly and inexplicably need a hug or something. It was like they were radiating it at him. Or maybe he'd just been gone long enough to feel like hugging someone was appropriate. But only certain someones. "Good. I will make you eat tomorrow, also. But the visiting - how will it be done? I do not want to upset others. It seems everyone is upset enough for six people and this upset, it adds quickly."

That, and he was sure enough of his position in Vanessa's life to not feel the need to elbow someone out of the way just so he could look at her. Not that that was really what Warren and Adrienne were doing, it just seemed... arguing with one another seemed so pointless, in the long run. It benefited no one.

"I eat. And we'll figure something out. Tensions are high after what happened and since they can't take it out on the people who did this it inevitably spills out on each other. I think it'll eventually work itself out, but for now things are going to be a little...complex," Jean said.

"If it comes down to it I will work out a schedule."

"I would like to sit with her, I think, when it is quiet," Jean-Paul said, shrugging. "If this is possible, then I thank you. If not, I will stick to whatever schedule is made. It is only, I think, that it would be good for her to hear familiar voices, oui? And I know some of the things she was reading before I left for Argentina with the client. So... oui. I thought I might read to her, if nothing else." He nodded toward the hallway. "Can you walk?"

Jean nodded, sliding her hands into her pockets. "I think that'd be okay. I'd like to keep it in hour increments. Vanessa was...understandably paranoid when she woke up. She wasn't sure what was real. Even though we've had good success with medically induced comas on people with healing factors, it usually makes their wake up times harder to tell. If she wakes up, I want to be there to try to assure her," she said. There were a number of possibilities, the main problem of which would involve her trying to bolt or trying to hurt one of them or herself in the escape.

"She's got a long ways to go before she'll be fully healed, physically and mentally."

Adrienne had said Vanessa was whole, at least physically, but that didn't mean uninjured and Jean-Paul knew that. If anyone knew anything about the difficulties inherent in psychological damage, he did. "Can you tell me something of her condition? I do not want you to break your confidentiality, oui? But only, I think I would like to be prepared for when I see her. She is wearing Laura, I think?" The damage would have had to be extensive to keep Laura's healing factor from taking care of most of the damage - he assumed, at least.

Rounding the corner, Jean shook her head. "She's bad. Really bad. They took no kindness with her. She's covered in bandages. I'll let her tell you the rest if she wants to when she wakes," she said.

She was hesitant to tell him, or tell much of any of them really, even if she could. For them to know would only anger them even more needlessly.

"Laura's mimic is doing what it can. If she doesn't get better soon on her own I may call on Amanda."

Nodding, Jean-Paul absorbed that for a moment. He was angry, but it was oddly detached. He had no direction in which to point his anger. Give him a name, an address, a country and he would find whoever had done this - he would make them hurt. But until then, he couldn't focus on the anger. He couldn't let himself be eaten up with regrets and recriminations. They would come, he knew - questions of what if and guilt over the fact that he hadn't even known. He hadn't guessed anything was wrong.

So he let himself concentrate on the matters at hand, instead, and placed each bit of fury that he found within himself safely in a box that he buried. The Quebecois would find it later, when it would do him some good, and he would use it. But until that day, he would do whatever was necessary to help Vanessa get better. "Amanda, she is good with healing and things," he murmured, his tone indicating his approval of this plan. "You will tell me if there is anything I can do to help, oui?"

Jean smiled softly. "The being here part is good. I think it will help. But yes, you'll definitely be on my short list if I need something," she said, studying him for a few moments. He'd changed, she thought. For the better but still a change. He seemed...calmer, despite the inferno burning underneath the surface.

"Merci," he murmured, nodding almost to himself. "This is good. I would not like you to fall over, mon ami." He didn't know the details. He'd been so completely out of touch while in Europe. But he knew bad things had happened. Jean-Paul knew there were other people who deserved to feel a great deal of pain for their actions - but he couldn't do anything to them, either. It was just one more piece of the puzzle that was his anger that he picked up and carefully put away.

Slowing to a stop, Jean pulled her hands out of the pockets of her lab coat, folding her arms. The smile remained, faint.

"Like I said. I'll rest on Tuesday. Until then I have copious amounts of coffee to keep me awake," she said. Her phone chirped indicating a new e-mail and she peered down at it.

"And people."

"Go," Jean-Paul said, quirking a rueful smile of his own. "Call me tomorrow, when I can see her."

Jean nodded. "If you want quiet you may have to wait until a bit later in the evening. I imagine there'll be a steady stream of visitors for most of the day."

"I will keep her company when the others have gone," Jean-Paul said, nodding. He wasn't sure Jean would let him get away with it, but he figured there might be the slightest chance she would forget he was there if he went in last. He had a lot of time to make up for, after all. But then, thinking that around the telepath probably wasn't his smartest move.

"An hour," Jean said, arching her eyebrows as she poked him in the arm with a pointed stare. She had a feeling she'd have to keep watch on the room as he would not be the only one wanting to sneak in to sit with her. It wasn't that she minded too terribly, it was that if she let one in, there'd be 5 more after them and pretty soon it'd be wall to wall people.

Not the best thing in case Vanessa coded in the middle of the night and she was having to step over people to get to her.

"An hour," Jean-Paul agreed, shrugging. It had been worth a try, at least. Then he made a shooing gesture with his hands. "Go, make sure our friend is still as well as she can be."