Catseye & Rachel - interrupted naptimes

[x-eidolon.livejournal.com]

A nightmare paves the way for conversation, hair patting and a job offer between two old playmates.



It was mid-morning and the sun promised it to be a glorious day. She’d fallen asleep under a shade tree to the quiet sounds of its rustling leaves on the far side of the mansion grounds. But whimpers escaped from behind well-chewed lips as the girl shifted restlessly on the ground, forehead creased heavily in a frown – Rachel’s dreams were not as pleasant as the weather.

Catseye was high up in a tree in her cat form basking in the sun. She'd been there for some time now, after returning from a romp in the woods. And while she was well aware of Rachel napping nearby, Catseye hadn't disturbed her. She hadn't even spoken to Rachel since the redheaded young woman had returned to the mansion. Rachel presented quite an emotional clusterfuck for the catgirl.

The rational, human part of her knew what Rachel had been through from the reports she'd read, and understood the toll they'd taken on the toddler she'd once known, so she knew that Rachel had most certainly changed. The part of her that was feline backed this up by pointing out that Rachel's scent, movements, voice, gaze... everything about her was different than it had been. But what did that actually mean? Catseye didn't know if that meant she should go comfort her old friend, or be extra wary of her. She wanted to do both, all the time, and she couldn't sort out in her head which reaction was the cat's and which reaction was the human's. They seemed to swap, just as she was about to come to some sort of consensus within herself. Sometimes the cat part of her said she should go try to play with Rachel, like old times. Sometimes it said Rachel was a stranger and she shouldn't trust her. Sometimes the human part said she should try to rekindle the old friendship they'd once had. But sometimes it argued that the past was in the past and neither of them were the same people they'd once been so what was the point? And because she couldn't settle on a course of action, she'd just been avoiding Rachel altogether.

Except now she could tell, very plainly, that Rachel was having a nightmare. The whimpers pushed Catseye's dilemma to the back of her thoughts and spurred her into action. She bounded through the trees and scampered down the one Rachel was napping under, pouncing on the other girl's lap in an attempt to wake her up and letting her momentum carry her a few feet away, so that she wouldn't be in danger if her rude awakening caused Rachel to swat at her.

The sudden weight on her lap spurred Rachel to her feet in a single leap, feet spread apart and bent in a fighting stance. Her gaze darted around the area, as though searching for something, but the space it finally settled on was strangely empty. A moment later, it became apparent that those green eyes were hauntingly unseeing as tears welled up in them.

Small as she already was, the girl seemed to curl in on herself as she approached the empty patch of grass on unsteady legs. With a low keening moan, Rachel dropped to her knees and buried her face in her hands. Her shoulders shook with the force of her sobs and the redhead rocked back and forth on her heels in a poor parody of self-comfort. The redhead seemed to be saying something – an incoherent babble that Catseye could eventually make out to be heartbroken denials and a repetition of: Kitty, Kit, Kat, Idiot, and sorry.

Catseye shifted into girlform, concerned by the crying and by the words she could make out. Kitty cat? Had her catform triggered something in Rachel? Had she unintentionally upset her? She touched Rachel's shoulder gently. "Hey, it's okay. Don't cry. Rachel?" There was concern in her tone when she realized that Rachel didn't seem to be hearing her. It was like she was still sleeping, except she was moving around and talking. What the heck was going on? "Hey, Rachel? Rachel, don't cry. It's okay. I'm not a kitty cat anymore, see? I'm sorry that I made you think I was one when you were a baby. You're not an idiot. I was the idiot. I mean, I'm a cat sometimes, but not really. I'm a mutant, like you!"

But Catseye’s words went unheard and Rachel, caught in the throes of a flashback, shakily reached a hand out to close the eyes of a corpse visible only to her. Minutes passed before her sobs began to die down. Eventually, her shoulders stiffened and she choked back the last of her sobs, teeth biting down hard enough to draw blood from her bottom lip.

“Kitty, I’m sorry. We didn’t get here fast enough. Please…”

“Commander! The signal went up. They’ll be on us at any moment.”

The reporting soldier was young. Probably older than her. But still so young and so nervous. Inexperienced. He didn’t want to die here too; didn’t want to meet the same fate of his captain and comrades. Shadowcat would have poked fun at him, then said something to make him feel better about himself. But Revenant merely silenced him with a glare, and the troops who weren’t from her unit shifted nervously as they picked up a current of power in the room.

They had time for this. She would make time for this. There would not be another grave-less marker on the grass in Muir. Not for this one.

“Slayer. Take Shadowcat. We leave by the tunnels. You,” she pointed to the nameless soldier. “So eager to leave. You can take point.”

Rachel rose from her crouch and stepped back, turning towards Catseye. Her cheeks were still damp and her nose still runny, but she had stood unashamed in front of her men, bloody lip and all. The teenager wore her anguish like a well-worn cloak, while anger and the dark promise of revenge peered out from behind her stony expression, through the windows of her broken soul. It was a strange look for someone so young to have.

Catseye stood with her and shook her harder, concerned that Rachel wasn't responding. "Rachel? Hey, Rachel! Wake up! Time to wake up now! I don't wanna slap you or anything, but you're really starting to freak me out with the not-waking-up thing here!"

But instead of waking up, Rachel sank back to the ground, so fast that Catseye only barely managed to catch her to break her fall. Rachel was limp as a rag, so Catseye put her down gently a couple feet away from any trees, not wanting her to hurt herself if she thrashed around or anything. She didn't know if Rachel had fainted or gone back to sleep, but Catseye shook her harder, beginning to get quite worried now. "Rachel! Wake up!" she called out sternly, opening one of Rachel's eyes with her thumb and forefinger to check the dilation of her pupil. "What the heck is going on?!" she muttered to herself.

A hand darted up, quick as lightning, and slapped Catseye’s hand away from Rachel’s face. Those green eyes were open of their own volition now, and they peered calculatingly up into the purple-haired girl’s face. The psion’s body was rigid now, tensed and ready to spring away at the first sign of a threat. But she held herself in check, reminded herself where she was now, and quelled the urge to hurt first and ask later.

“I know you,” Rachel said slowly. “You’re—” A traitor. “A purple kitty.”

Catseye let out a surprised and very feline "mrrt!" when her hand was slapped, jumping back to respect Rachel's personal space. Her tension and worry slipped away now that Rachel had woken up, and she let out a nervous breath she'd been holding and gave Rachel a smile. "Only sometimes," she grinned. "Wow, you had me so worried! Are you alright? What the heck happened?! Do you need help? Can I get you anything? Should we go to the medlab? Should I carry you? Do you want to talk about it?"

“Uhm. What the fuck?” Rachel frowned, her expression clearly saying something along the lines of ‘are you batshit crazy?’. The redhead sat up and shuffled around so she was seated facing Catseye, her head cocked to the side. “What are you talking about?”

Frowning, Catseye raised an eyebrow, her own head cocked to the side like Rachel's was. "Uhm, what are you talking about?" she asked, feeling a little concerned again. "I'm talking about the fact that you were crying and talking in your sleep, and then you stood up, like you were awake, except you weren't. Well, I mean, you weren't answering me or responding, so you didn't seem to be awake. Then you fainted or went back to sleep or something. I caught you. Then I tried to check your eyes. Then you slapped me."

Rachel reached up to press a hand against her cheek. The fingers came back damp, and the redhead frowned at it. “Sorry,” she said finally, having come to the most logical conclusion. “I was having a nightmare. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

"Nope," Catseye responded in an easygoing tone, settling herself down in the grass across from Rachel. "I'm okay. That was one crazy nightmare, though! What's up with that? I mean... does that happen to you a lot? Did it happen when you were... where you used to live? Or is it... is it because you're here now?" Her worry about offending Rachel was a testament to how far Catseye had come in adapting to being human. Except the fact she was still being driven by her curiosity and asking what were probably inappropriate questions- just feeling bad about asking them- was more a testament that you couldn't really change somebody's personality too much, whether they thought they were a cat or a human.

“It’s uhm,” Rachel shrugged, lamely, wiping off the rest of the tears. “A thing. Where, y’know, my actions in the real world reflect what’s going on in my dream. It’s happened before, under worse conditions. Uhm. If it happens again, you shouldn’t touch me. I could seriously have hurt you.”

With a sheepish sort of grimace, she reached up and rubbed her palm against the back of her head and looked around, glad that they were alone and that her weak mental shields had been enough to contain her subconscious outburst of grief. “Sorry.”

"You don't have to be sorry," Catseye answered with her own shrug. "I'm an X-Man. I've read the reports. You've been through more crazy, dangerous, sad stuff than probably anyone else here. I'd say that means you don't have to be sorry for having dreams that reflect that stuff. I... I really hope your dreams get better, though," she added with a smile. "Because you're here now, I mean. Not... not that you'll forget all the bad stuff, but because things are maybe better here and you can maybe have some good things happen that start to balance things out and make you have good dreams instead. That... that is sort of why you're here, right?"

“Well,” Rachel said, leaning back and allowing the tree to cradle her petite frame, gaze still locked on Catseye. It was difficult to separate what she knew of Catseye from before she was six and after she was abducted to Genosha, but she knew that they had had their share of fond times. “I’m here because… I don’t know where to else to go yet and I didn’t want to stay on Muir. I was an X-Man too. But here I’m… not.” She waved a dismissive hand in the air, nose wrinkling. “I’m just a boarder here who is trying to pass some American standardised tests. The dreams will pass. Eventually.”

"Of course they will," Catseye said in her best optimistic, reassuring voice, big grin on her face. "And hey. Lots of people are here because they don't know where else to go just yet. I was like that, too. So don't... y'know, feel awkward about why you're here, or anything. Not that you're feeling awkward," she added quickly. "Or should feel awkward. Just... if you are, don't. What kind of tests are you taking?" she asked suddenly, hoping to change the topic before she muddled things up too much with that runaway train of thought. "Do you need help with any of the tests? I didn't get my GED until a couple years ago, so it's all still pretty fresh in my mind."

"Uh," Rachel paused, then twisted around and hunting in the space she was dozing in previously. With a triumphant sound, she brandished the book she had been using as a pillow -- because one could totally learn through osmosis, right? The redhead grinned at Catseye, a mixture of hopefulness and sheepishness. "History?"

"Fun!" Catseye grinned. "Except totally not fun, but I bet we can make it fun!" she shrugged. "I wish you could just use your mental powers to take the answers out of my head so we could have some real fun instead of studying, but I guess with us being X-Men, we know better than to do things like that." She added a smirk so Rachel would know she was kidding. Because she was. Totally. Because cheating was bad. Yes. Definitely.

The smirk that curled Rachel’s lips told the other woman exactly what she thought of that suggestion and how much she approved of it. “Alas. Moral considerations aside, I can’t do that anymore. My telepathy’s pretty pathetic now, actually.” The redhead hefted the textbook and idly tapped the side of it with a finger. “Gotta do shit the hard way now.”

"Really?" She tried to wrap her head around how that could be possible, but wasn't coming up with any explanation on her own. "I... I don't really understand," Catseye confessed. "Why would telepathy be more pathetic here than where you... were? Aren't you the same person here that you were there?" How could someone's powers be a different strength in a different... dimension or whatever it had been? "If I went to... where you were, would my powers be less pathetic? Not that they're pathetic now," she shrugged, "just... you know what I mean. Are everyone's powers more... powerful in the other... where you were? Or did yours... like... break or something when you came here? Did you hit your head on something?"

“Dunno,” Rachel shrugged. “It got used up to transport me here and create a corporeal form for me, I think. The specifics are much too convoluted to go into. I wouldn’t say that everyone was more powerful where I came from. Just different, maybe. But then you’d have to go into the nature versus nurture debate and why do that when it was all pretty much a mad man’s world?” She was still getting used to her scaled down telepathy and it was bothersome and frustrating and sometimes when she subconsciously over-extended herself, it left her with blinding migraines. But all things considered… yeah. “Still worth it, though. I think.” It was a small comfort.

"What's still worth it?" Catseye inquired, head tilting in curiosity. "Using up your telepathy to come here? Does that mean you like it here?”

“It means…” The expression on Rachel’s face was twisted, nose wrinkled in a way that showed that she was trying to put together something to say as she dropped the textbook into her lap and stretched her legs out towards Catseye. It helped that Catseye’s questions were direct and almost guileless. “I’m glad to be alive and not living a lie anymore. I honestly don’t know if I like it here or not, but I don’t dislike it. It’s… different. More peaceful. And the people are nicer.”

She had her parents. Her adopted siblings. A couple of friends and acquaintances she was fond of. But… it didn’t change the fact that she still felt disconnected from everything and everyone at a basic level. Her psychiatrist said it would take time and a lot of trying to form bonds as deep as those she had shared with the ‘people’ she had faced death with. It would also take time to disassociate what she thought she knew of people with what they were actually like. The redheaded soldier shrugged and quirked her lips in a semi-cheerful smile. “Way nicer.”

"Really?" Catseye repeated. Relaxing a little at Rachel's smile, she nudged Rachel's foot with her own in a playful manner, like a cat batting someone to play. "Way nicer? You mean, like, people in general?" If that was true, she would be pretty sad. A lot of people in this world were dicks, especially in regards to mutants. "Or do you mean the people around the mansion? Like me? Is there a me where you were? A mean, nasty me?" She found the whole nature versus nurture debate that Rachel had mentioned to be a very interesting one, and was curious about how her own life would be different if different factors had weighed upon her or she'd made different decisions.

“Both? I mean the yardstick is pretty low, but people are way more relaxed when they’re not worried about living to see the next sunrise. So that applies to both the mansion people and the people in general around the world. That I’ve seen so far, at least.” She shrugged and reached out for Catseye, inviting her to come closer so she could offer skritches if she liked. Like the purple kitty who batted her around in a telekinetic bubble when they were both younger. And because Rachel was honest and really saw no need to hide it: “There was a you. She wasn’t very nice. But she wasn’t the worse out there. I hated that she turned traitor… But like everyone else, she just wanted to live. It’s just that she made decisions we didn’t agree with. I never met her in the field. Reports say she was more cat than human. So.”

Catseye didn't need much encouragement to come closer, grinning as she scooted closer to Rachel, twirling a fallen leaf between her fingers by its stem. "I'm sorry I wasn't very nice," she said to Rachel, because it seemed like the appropriate thing to say regardless of the fact that she knew she didn't really have anything to apologize for. "And that I was a traitor. I can't imagine being a traitor; not in this world, I mean. I feel like I owe my friends and my team and everyone here at my home too much to ever betray them." It was easy to say it here and now, outside of any life-threatening circumstances. "I don't know what I'd be without them. I mean, I definitely wouldn't have my restaurant!"

Rachel had been waving her hand as Catseye spoke, dismissing the apologies that were not necessary for reasons obvious to her. She settle the other hand on the other girl’s hair, fingers idly fiddling with the fascinatingly purple strands. It seemed like an overly familiar action for a pair of virtual strangers, but if Catseye didn’t protest, the redhead wasn’t really in the mood to think too much into it. “Wait, you have a restaurant?”

"I do I do I do!" Catseye answered happily, not at all bothered by Rachel playing with her hair. "I got it early in the summer; the Professor and Marius helped me get it! Except it's kind of a mess so Scott and Kyle and Fred and Yvette and Angel and lots of other people are helping me with repairs to the equipment and finding furniture and redecorating and cleaning and everything. When it's all spiffy and I make a menu and everything I'm going to hire people to work there and maybe they will all be mutants because sometimes mutants have a hard time finding jobs here. Do you need a job?" she asked Rachel with a grin. "You could totally work at my restaurant if you wanted to."

The redhead blinked, head tilted to the side like a questioning sparrow. She was thinking, really. “I could help if you need hands on deck.” She could do with some extra cash, certainly, since she wasn’t planning on taking payouts from her parents for much longer. And having something other than studying and blowing up things in her spare time was probably a good idea. But. “I’m supposed to be working for Angelo soon.” Once she actually got around to actually asking him if his offer stood. “But yeah, that’s actually a pretty fantastic idea. Do you need like night shift workers, maybe?”

"Sure!" the catgirl grinned. "Once it gets closer to being operational, we can talk about it more?" she suggested. "But, for now, in case you need a break from all this studying we've been doing," she teased, "do you wanna come check it out? There's some demolition work that needs to get done. Do you like sledgehammers?"

“Are you kidding me? I love sledgehammers!” And the pathetic thing was that Rachel wasn’t even joking. She chuckled and patted Catseye’s head. “I’d love to check it out.”