Jean and Rachel: Understanding (Backdated)

[x-jeangrey.livejournal.com]

Rachel runs into Jean practicing her powers out in the courtyard. The two wind up meeting formally and wind up discussing Rachel's situation.




Out in the courtyard under a shade tree, Jean listened to her iPod and read a book as she sat on one of the stone benches in front of a stone patio table with a pile of irregularly shaped rocks. The rocks shifted and flowed, creating different things: a pyramid, a column, a path, all designed to create a sense of focus amidst distraction.

It was mainly fine tuning exercises, things she had been taught long ago but had become habitual. She could've done it in the danger room but she enjoyed the outside.

Rachel was coming in from a long run – physical activity, she found, was the best way to keep her mind occupied and floundering, as opposed to drowning in a pool of existentialism angst and self-doubt. At the sight of the redhead under the tree, however, she subconsciously slowed to a stop. Verdant eyes tracked the shifting forms of the rocks and the teenager marvelled at the amount of control being displayed by the older psion. It spoke of years of arduous training and a focus that Rachel had thus far only dreamed of achieving.

Jean glanced up, sensing the figure in the distance. She smiled at her. The air was warm and thick from the summer sun, but saved by a passing breeze. She'd given Rachel her distance; the girl had been through a lot for what amounted to being her entire life. She didn't know what to say to that besides sympathy. But she imagined everyone she met here gave that same sympathy, looked at her the same way.

She was the girl from the dead world, that, when all was said and done should've had the words reversed: the dead girl from the world. She'd died twice already and seen things in her young years that no one should have to see. It was partially selfish reasons why Jean hadn't sought her out. That sort of pain got etched onto your soul and left scars. And Jean had her own share of scars. She didn't know what would happen should those scars actually meet.

"Hi."

"Hey.”

The younger girl looked away, looking somewhat embarrassed at being caught staring. The flush on her cheeks, however, were easily explained away by physical exertion. Almost tentatively, Rachel approached the tree and stopped at a distance where they were near enough to see each other without squinting, but not so near such that Jean had to crane her neck to look up at her face. As it had been with everyone else, it was strange for Rachel to see the younger, healthier and more beautiful-looking Jean than the one her pseudo memories.

Even in the astral construct, Phoenix had been somewhat of an enigma to Rachel. A seasoned veteran long before she had even been born, jaded… perhaps a tad bitter from all the losses her backstory had come with. Cyclops, on the other hand, had been a lot easier to connect with, and that ultimately meant that Jean had mostly been just ‘Scotty’s wife’ to her. Which was good, because it meant less emotional entanglement on Rachel’s part, but it also made it that much harder to separate the two in her mind. If that made any sense.

“That,” she said, gesturing at the still-flowing rocks. “Is pretty neat.”

Jean smiled. "Thanks," she said. The rocks formed the shape of a spiral, then a wing before coming to rest in five careful rows.

"When I was younger I had to practice this until I wanted to throw the rocks at someone's head," she mused. Erik made her do it anyway.

"Once I finally got used to it, it became easier. And I guess the habit's hard to break now."

She nodded to an empty seat at the stone table. "Would you like to sit? I promise I won't bite." Her eyes sparkled with a laugh.

"Unless you want.”

“Not on the first date, at least,” Rachel replied with a small, cheeky grin as she took the seat. She pushed her hair out of her face and crossed her legs on the bench “My TK exercises had a lot more to do with maximum damage and weight lifting, so most micro and fine control stuff is pretty outta my league. I stabbed my boyfriend with a pencil once while trying to summon it us.” It was hilarious. And since she and Korvus were at the stage where they were constantly at each other’s throats, she hadn’t minded it all that much once they’d confirmed he wasn’t going to die. “I’m Rachel, by the way.”

"It's nice to meet you officially," Jean said, smiling as she pulled the earbuds out of her ears and wrapped the cord around her iPod.

"It took me years to learn. There've been a few backslides during those years as well. I find my emotions play a huge part, for better or worse," she said. She picked up one of the stones, her finger running over the smooth surface as she turned it over in her hand.

"I'm sorry I hadn't introduced myself earlier. It was rude of me."

“S’no big,” Rachel said with a careless rise and drop of her shoulders. “You know who I am then?”

Jean nodded. She brushed her hair behind her ears. "Professor Xavier told me," she said. And Haller had told him. Word traveled, to those who needed to know it. She wasn't quite sure what to say. There were so many things she wanted to say but none seemed right at the moment. The girl was still trying to navigate this new world. It had to have been difficult. She could only imagine what that was like. The world and all its infinite difference and pain and joy.

"Well, I don't want to keep you if you need to be somewhere."

“I’m quite at my leisure, actually,” Rachel said, tone casual as she flexed her toes. After all, she had just sat down. “Nowhere to be and nothing to do. Unless, of course, you want me to leave, Jean?"

She recognised that look in Jean’s expression. It wasn’t pity, or she’d have taken the opportunity to flee. It was a kind of sympathetic understanding hidden beneath a veneer of polite congeniality that Rachel didn’t necessarily like, but nevertheless could stand to be around out of sheer stubbornness or curiousity. Jean’s gaze also spoke of a kind of discomfort that stemmed from something that had to do with her, but at the same time was not quite her – kind of like the looks Rachel herself gave to certain people here when they reminded her of something or another of the faux life she’d lived. Something she wished she didn’t remember.

No one else who was in the know actually looked at her that way. It made Rachel want to know why.

"No," Jean said with a shake of her head, putting down the stone.

"Stay. I just....I'm sorry. It's my fault," she said, sighing softly. "After so many years of seeing so many horrible things I thought I'd be able to connect, to be able to say just the right thing. But the things keep happening. And I see you and...my mind just goes blank. It leaves me speechless."

She didn't want to be. She felt like she needed to be strong, to be a doctor, a teacher, a leader, a diplomat. She wore so many hats that sometimes they grew too heavy on her head.

Rachel sighed and clasped her hands together, propping her chin up on them as she studied the older psion. Jean seemed... Not broken, not really. Fractured? Strained? Tired. Exhausted. Like her soul was too old for her body. That's where the muted understanding had come from.

"I doubt that there are right words, really," she finally settled on saying. "It fucking sucks. I know that. You know that. I know that you know that. I also know that my life isn't the only one that hasn't been a walk in the park. But no one knows how to look at me or treat me, no matter whether I'm crying or laughing. I just..."

She let out another sigh because she didn't have the right words either. "I just want people to treat me genuinely. Forget searching for perfect words of comfort, forget being considerate and careful. Just, whatever, you know? I'm not six and despite everything, I'm not going to break because of a few misplaced words. So if you're speechless, don't say anything. If you don't want to see me, then avoid me. If you want to know something, ask. If you want to talk about your own problems for a change, I'm all ears. I don't need you to do anything, say anything or be anything to me aside from a fellow decent human being. I'm not even going to begin prioritising my shitty problems ahead of yours - and don't bother with covering that up. I can see it in your eyes."

The teenager's green eyes were flashing, but her posture was deceptively relaxed. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, refusing to be embarrassed by her tirade.

Jean was silent for a few moments, eyes trailing upward as she watched the breeze caress the leaves in the tree above before moving on to tousle the grass. She finally spoke after looking back down at Rachel. "As a general rule people have a habit of living in the past. It's unintentional, but we crave the familiar. We know what to expect. Or we think we do. So when we see you, without meaning to we see the girl, and not the woman. We didn't have the privilege of growing up with you, seeing you change, to understand that who you are now is different from who we remember.

That time was stolen from us, just like we were stolen from you. We're not who you know, you're not who we know. The incongruity will always been there. None of us can escape it, we just have to learn to cope. And it's going to be hard," she said. The wind moved to Jean's hair, causing it to gently sway.

"I ask that you be patient with us, with me. You're frustrated, we're frustrated. We've all been unwillingly thrust into this situation that none of us have any real experience with, including you," she said. She glanced down.

"So when I see you, I'm reminded of all of these memories I can't control. And I think it's the same for a lot of people for so many different reasons. I'm trying. They're trying." She laughed.

"And you're right, it does fucking suck."

Rachel’s laugh was a brittle, hollow one, but her gaze had lost a certain edge that she was unaware was there. Picking up one of the rocks, she smoothed a thumb across its surface.

“I know,” she said eventually, seeking Jean’s eyes with her own. “I know that other people are having a difficult time with this. With me. On top of many other things that were before I came about. Which is why I’m not expecting people to be all right with me, my past and what I stand for. All I’m saying is… Don’t feel like you need to be a certain way and say certain things for my benefit or welfare. It feels… calculated. Which may or may not be a fair assessment. I don’t know. Maybe people feel better if they think they’re taking care of me or being considerate to my feelings by masking their own.”

The girl gave a careless shrug and replaced the rock, leaning forward in her seat. “Maybe it’s because I’m military. Where possible, I like straightforward and uncomplicated. So thank you for sharing your thoughts with me. I appreciate them, perhaps more than you would think.”

It was easy enough with people who had no freakin’ clue as to who she really was. But with everyone else that knew, excepting maybe Molly and Angelo, Rachel honestly felt like she had to reassure people that she wasn’t completely broken and wasn’t going to slit her wrists at the next opportunity. So maybe she was a little bit broken inside. But people weren’t letting her be broken or express it because all that said to them was that she wasn’t dealing with it – whatever ‘it’ was – the right way. Not that she could blame them… The redhead shook her head, unable to put her feelings into actual words, much less make sense of it, even in her head.

“So I guess the most logical way around it right now, is for me to get to know you as you, and for you to get to know me as me. Right?”

Jean nodded. "I'd like that," she said. She leaned back in the chair.

"I don't think we should ignore the past, though. We should embrace it, and understand it, and let it inform on our present. We are who we are because of our experiences and our decisions. I will try not to lie to you if you ask, but I ask that you do the same in return."

“Well, our past is part of who we are now, so I’d say that’s more than fair. And to the utmost best of my abilities, I won’t lie to you either. If there’s something either of us don’t want to say or don’t want to go into, then we don’t,” Rachel said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “And one of the first things I’m going to tell you right now is that somewhere in the near future I’m going to have to hunt you down and ask you to teach me how to do that.” She jabbed her chin at the rocks lying innocuously on the table. “Please.”

The request elicited a laugh from Jean, who rested in chin in her hand. "We can start next Monday, if you'd like. It may take awhile, though. Control depends on the person. Are you okay with that?"

“I’m up for hard work,” Rachel nodded, even if that wasn’t always true. When it came to the boring stuff, she was pretty much the fastest person to give up ever. But powers training… that she’d never quite given up on yet. “But I’m not sure if I’ll be around Monday. M’thinking of going to Muir to visit the ‘rents. Show ‘em I’m really alive and stuff.”

Jean smiled. "I think that'd take precedent. Just let me know when you're ready and I can try to squeeze you in. I'm getting prepped for classes and, barring any major catastrophes..." Which she often had built right into her lesson plans. "....Should allow me some free time to work privately on a one on one basis."

“I’ll make my appointments in advance to make your life easier.” The younger girl grinned, clearly happy at the prospect of being able to train that certain aspect of her power. “And in the name of full disclosure, my micro control really, really sucks.”

Not looking too dissuaded, Jean shook her head. "I've trained more than my fair share of psis and various persons with control issues. We're figure something out," she assured her.

"And stick to the DR for awhile. The mansion's had enough property damage for awhile."

Rachel’s smile turned sheepish. “I’ve been hanging out in the quarry. Aside from that, I may have wrecked a punching back in the gym and the telephone in my room. But that’s about it.” If one did not count the art room demolition stunt she performed with Molly last year. “I’ll be good.” She paused. “What’s the DR though?”

"Sorry, I meant in general. Not just you," Jean said. She smiled. "I suppose its almost like a rite of passage to have accidentally destroyed something at the mansion with your powers." There used to be a massive chandelier in the main hall before Jean arrived.

She glanced toward the building. "The Danger Room is a room that allows us to enact scenarios that help us to train our abilities and ourselves using a variety of means. It's built to take a beating."

“Sounds like a very awesome place. David didn’t say.”

"It has its moments," Jean said. She smiled again.

"I was thinking of getting some iced tea. Would you care to join me?"

“Sure,” Rachel said agreeably, standing with a stretch. “Could probably do with some food too if you’re up for it.”

"Sounds like a plan," Jean said, grabbing her ipod and tucking it in her pocket. The stones floated off the table, coming to rest in the form of an infinity loop in the nearby grass.