Jean and Garrison: Snark and Recreation

[x-jeangrey.livejournal.com]

Jean kidnaps Garrison to go to Coney Island. They get about halfway there.



Jean hadn't seen Garrison beyond brief glimpses since Genosha so she decided an outing was in order. Knocking on the door to his suite, she waited patiently.

"What?" Kane called through the door. The Canadian was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling while 'Everybody Knows' played quietly in the background. All he needed was a floppy haircut and two-thirds of an arts degree to complete the image of serial hipster emo. The thought made him even more irritable.

"What?" Jean echoed, tilting her head at the song choice.

"It's Jean, open up."

"Door is open." He said, not getting up. It was Jean. No doubt there to check in on him. What was with people checking in on everyone? It was like any silence suddenly dumped them back into Genosha.

Jean paused, then shook her head as she opened the door and stepped inside. The room was dark save for the light from outside, muted through heavy curtains. Clothes and various items were piled everywhere. She flipped on the light switch, ignoring any ensuing groans that might've followed.

"Hmm. Looks like you've settled into being a hermit nicely."

"My beard isn't long enough. And I haven't started balding yet." Kane said, eyes still fixated on the ceiling fan, lazily going around and around. 'What's up Doc?"

"Have to start somewhere," Jean said. She studied him as he languished in his squalor.

"Get up and put on some clothes that aren't covered in cheetoes and hot pocket stains. We're going to Coney Island."

"Sorry, but apparently your husband has a thing about us going on dates. Even after I told him that because of my curse, I couldn't go any further than third base. What a jerk." Kane didn't move. He wasn't actually covered in cheetoes, although the hot pocket stain was pretty much bang on. Those things had a tendency to squirt.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you over the sound of world's tiniest violin. Up and at 'em," Jean said, motioning for him to get up.

She would've telekinetically tossed him but that might've probably gave him a heart attack more than anything because of the giant phoenix attached to it and they couldn't exactly go to Coney Island then if she had to race him to the medlab.

"Taking away the prospect of third base doesn't help your case." He muttered, but pulled himself off his bed in any case. Obviously Jean had a 'plan', and sometimes it was easier to just go along with it rather than arguing. Although he made sure to think his displeasure extra hard at her as he pulled on a new shirt.

"I am crying on the inside," Jean said sweetly as she leaned against the doorframe. After awhile seeing people without their shirts on for physicals had rendered her nonplussed. She didn't really bat an eye.

"You'll thank me later after the 15 Nathan's Hotdogs."

"Despite tales of your teenaged years, I don't think even you can take that many." His regrowing hair was just long enough now to be past the brushcut phase, but still needed a comb in the same way the mansion needed a jai alai court. "Alright, let's go to the fair!" He said, mock excitedly.

"I cut one into 15 pieces. Voila, bite sized," Jean said with a smirk. She opened the door, then motioned him out.

"After you, Grumpy," she said. No sir, she was not going to leave first. He could close the door behind her and lock it. Then she'd take the door off its hinges and Kyle would be upset.

Without too much further complaining, Kane followed Jean down to her car, and soon enough they were on the highway, headed for the city. He stared out at the trees whipping by, quiet and somber. The Canadian was normally the opposite; nearly impossible to shut up the running stream of commentary and jokes. But since Genosha, it had all changed. He'd become irritable, dour, short tempered and prone to long brooding silences.

Jean was trying very hard not to use her powers in general, to keep her mental walls up, but this was one of those times when too many factors added up to make something inherently not quite right. In addition to his currently grey demeanor something else bled through. More than just a reaction to a bad situation. She glanced over a moment, then turned her attention back to the road.

"So is this what you plan on doing for the rest of your life? Dig a hole and bury yourself in it so no one can touch you?"

"You know, I have a degree in psychology and I seem to be the only one in this mansion not trying to play amatuer therapist." Kane said, exasperated. "I am annoyed, frustrated, and yes, bothered by feeling helpless in pretty much every way in Genosha. It's a normal, healthy reaction. So when I decide not to put on a happy face and instead actually take the time to work through it on my own, everyone coming to tell me I'm doing it wrong is not helping. Fuck. We got beat bad right up to the point we faced the fucking sci-fi monster who burned off all my body hair. I'm dealing and someday in the near future, I'll be fine."

Jean turned her head, staring at him silently for a moment or two. They were lucky there was no one or at least only a few people nearby when she made the U-Turn in the middle of the road, tires screeching, and went into the outbound lane, headed back the direction they came.

"Since you feel that strongly l'll take you back to your room so you can continue to be fine. God forbid I or anyone else show concern about you," she said. Her face was made of stone, though her hand shook from gripping the steering wheel too tightly as she kept a hard gaze on the road.

"What is this, a family trip gone wrong?" He threw up his hands. "Did you ever think about asking whether or not I wanted help rather than trying to bully me into it? Or decide that you already know every thing about it before you even talk to me? I'm sorry if your way of dealing with what happened is to try and fix everyone, but there isn't a switch inside that we can just decide flick between 'alright' and 'messed up' if you hound us enough, eh."

Silence fell again, this time for a lot longer as Jean's stone face chipped away into something decidedly the opposite of stone, a lost, distracted look in her eyes.

"I don't know what I wanted," she said faintly.

Kane partially felt bad for stomping on her so hard. It was just - hadn't he done enough to have earned the right to be left alone? It was like there was a wall between himself and most of his feelings. The only things he felt were irritation, frustration, and more than anything else, loneliness. And no one could help him resolve that. It was going to take time to deal with it, to put it in the same place as the loss of intimacy that he was growing increasing convinced was going to be a way of life from now on.

"Look, I appreciate you're concerned. And if it was as easy as going to Coney Island with the pretty red-haired doctor lady to get better, I would have already kidnapped you. I just don't know when it's going to start getting better, and the more people push, the more I feel like I'm failing them for the second time by not being alright." He admitted quietly.

The problem with driving down a road is it was very difficult to to do much more than listen, talk, and look at the road. However it was probably the best distraction for Jean because she had to do something else other than be introspective while listening to him at that moment.

"I don't expect you to be," she said. She watched the cars in front of her, behind her, all completely wrapped up in their normal lives, their biggest worry being their taxes or their jobs, not being afraid for their lives from time to time.

"I don't think anyone expects anyone to be...just...miraculously okay...But...to do things alone....I... guess....I didn't want you to have to feel that way. But you have Adrienne...So maybe I don't know what I wanted."

She let out a shaky breath.

"To feel...Like I actually was able to stop the bleeding...someone's bleeding...Because right now it just feels like...It's all around me, pain, loss, sadness, and I can't do anything...I'm sorry...."

She knew she jinxed herself, by thinking she was okay when she spoke to Wanda. This was the other shoe. It dropped. It dropped a hole through the damn floor.

"I certainly don't have Adrienne. I think she and Vanessa are doing whatever is dating but you never mention it by name thing that they do." He said, almost wryly. "You can't fix what you're feeling by fixing someone else, doc. It doesn't work like that emotional. It just... staves off facing the darkness a little while longer." Jean blinked at him, and had to take her eyes off the road for that part. "Pardon me?" she said. She wasn't quite sure what to say about that. Vanessa had had many partners over the years...She just thought Adrienne and Garrison had been dating still or had gotten back together after not dating and...now...She was very confused.

"I probably need to keep notes on who's dating who anymore..." she murmured, then shook the thought away and glanced back at the road.

"Used to be...I had the problems...everyone else...for the most part...lived in their little bubble with the occasional mishap....Then a foreign government pops that bubble....I know about the darkness...I know I live with storm clouds over my head...but now I see everyone else and it's a thunderstorm...and I don't know if I'll be strong enough to take it if something else happens. So if i can help people...at least..."

She swallowed.

"Charles...he was so..." Her voice cracked, she wiped her eyes.

"Don't. Charles' guilt has got to be crushing for him. If you try and pick it up for him, it'll kill you." They were the right words, but like everything else these days, rang hollow to him personally.

Jean shook her head. "I don't..." she sighed. "I've known him for most of my life...he's almost closer to me than my own father...It's not...I'm not trying to pick up his guilt. I just want to be there. It's hard to see, and do nothing."

She couldn't shake it. Just like she couldn't shake looking at Garrison, seeing him beaten. She wished there was a switch.

Up ahead the sign read 'Salem Center 15.'

"I was really looking forward to the Cyclone."

"You did promise me a hotdog. I think since taking third base off the table, you owe me at least one of those."

Glancing over, Jean smiled softly. "That I did. Any toppings you want," she said. This time when she made the turnaround it was legally.