Julian's Party, Night 2: Fred and Yvette

[x-penance.livejournal.com]

Backdated to the early hours of September 21 - After her session with Angel, Fred finds Yvette in the last place you'd expect. Scattered confessions ensue.



There had been a lot of drinks. Then some joints. And then shots with Angel. Yvette had lost track of her friend when she'd gone to the bathroom, but for now, that wasn't a big deal. The small red girl - considerably less spiky than usual - wove her way unsteadily through the partygoers, until she reached a room where there was a poker game going on. She didn't know any of the players, but that didn't stop her. She stumbled in, just as a Lady Gaga song came on over the sound system.

"Oh!" she exclaimed gleefully. "I love this song!" And without any kind of thought whatsoever, she kicked off her shoes and sprang onto the table, scattering cards and chips under her feet as she sank her toes into the wood to steady her. "This is a party, let everyone dance!" she continued gleefully, beginning to move to the music. Her dancing, highly unlike her usual constrained, careful movements, was wild, exuberant, and, to be honest, rather sexy. It was like all of her usual inhibitions had fallen away.

Fred had finished off the rest of the High Life a few minutes ago. Some of the slightly older, more affluent partygoers had challenged the larger man to a drinking contest. After his twentieth beer, they'd thought better of it.

He'd switched to a bar-sized serving bottle of whiskey with a straw inserted in the top, and even nursing it after the inordinate amount of beer left Fred with only the beginning pangs of a buzz. His unknowing saunter past Yvette's dance, and his subsequent doubletake, effected him much more than the alcohol.

Fred blinked. He'd never seen Yvette...move like that. He'd never thought about how graceful she could be-graceful she was-and every little turn and motion she made was practically hypnotic. Watching her dance and move to the music, he knew immediately she was probably a little past sober and could use a hand down, but it took him several long seconds for Fred to make it over to the table. Eyebrows raised in lingering disbelief, he tried to form a more coherent sentence than, "Uh, Vette...yah okay...?" but that's all he eventually managed.

"Fred!" She paused in mid-shimmy (amid a chorus of disappointed noises from the audience she'd managed to gather) and staggered a little. "This is my boyfriend, Fred!" she announced to everyone, and then, without warning, threw herself off the table and onto said boyfriend, wrapping her arms and legs around him. "Hello!"

Fred caught Yvette with ease, and over her shoulder gave the nearest party guest who'd made a disappointed groan a look that could’ve bent wrought iron. He turned his attention back to Yvette, who was still clinging to him. He coughed a little, unsure of how to ask his girlfriend exactly how much she'd had to drink. He wasn't angry, but the difference between concern and anger was hard to make out inebriated. That and the lingering mental image he'd made in his head watching her dance (which he'd never admit under threat of death) made it even harder for Fred to form a coherent thought, "Yah, uh, heh...Ah, uhm, didn't know yah were a fan of dancin, Vette..." he said, as even and diplomatically as possible.

She squirmed in his arms, laughing, but there was a brittle edge to the sound. "It is the party, yes? And that is what people do at the party, they dance. And drink. Lots of drinks." She peered at him, the glow of her eyes dulled by the booze in her system. "You should be trying the dancing, perhaps. You seem like you are not having fun."

Maybe it was her statement himself, making Fred think about why he wasn't really enjoying himself the whole night. Maybe it was the soft edge in her voice. Yvette had always said so much of how she felt in her voice, and he'd known her long enough to pick up on it. Maybe it was just that word, "fun", hanging in the air like a suicidal order: Have fun or stay in your head, where all the damage is. Have fun or slow down and take the time to think. Have fun or feel like dying inside.

Whatever it was that clicked it in Fred's head, he swiftly cared little about dancing and whiskey and fun things imagined in his head. Because he'd come to the party to stop hiding from how...out of sorts he'd felt for weeks. Since Slorenia. And, sharp and sure in his chest, he was starting to figure out that Yvette was going about it in almost the same way.

"...Nah, Ah guess Ah ain't the best at partying." Fred finally admitted in a soft and low voice. They'd ended up outside the closest exit, in the cool air of the evening, with Fred still holding Yvette. He tried to set her down on her own feet gently, unsure if she could stand at the moment, "What about you, Vette? Are yah...havin fun right now...?"

She was quiet for a long moment, standing somewhat unsteadily beside him, one hand clutching at the hem of his shirt to keep from falling over. "No," she said at last, almost too quietly to hear. "I have not most of the night, really. I thought... I thought if I threw myself into things, that if I was drinking enough, if I smoked a little, I could forget, for a little while."

Fred snaked his arms around Yvette's shoulders, gently hugging her, "Hey, Ah'm sorry. Ah'm an ass. Ah didn't mean tah bring yah down or anythin..." What had he been trying to do?...To see if she was feeling the same thing, Fred finally realized. To see if she was just as out of sorts as he was. And he, like a dumbass, had just gone ahead and ripped that band-aid off right in the middle of her trying to deal with it. Dammit. "Hey, why don't Ah take yah home, Vette? Yah can rest up, Ah'll stay with yah..."

She leaned into him, turning her face so she could press it against his side. "It is fine, Fred. You did not bring me down. I was already there. I have been, since..." She couldn't say the name. "Talk to me, please. Tell me how you are." She'd been so worried about him, sensed the distance in him. "At least until everything has stopped spinning."

"...Ah can't really sleep." Fred finally managed after several quiet moments, "Not well, anyhow. Ah close my eyes, and Ah see that damn things face all glowing and red. If Ah exhaust mahself, Ah can maybe get a few hours. It ain't really the best sleep. An it feels so stupid, cause we beat the thing. It's dead. But Ah get so angry cause it existed in the goddam first place. An it ain't like it's the first time something like this has happened, and Ah can't stop thinkin about that when Ah can't sleep, an Ah get angry at mahself for not being able to, cause Ah should be fine, cause Ah'm alive and fine and ain't hurt, but then Ah still can't sleep..."

Fred exhaled. He was holding his breath, and couldn't remember when he'd done so.

She shuddered, pressing closer against him. "If you should be fine, then I should be fine also. But I am not. Very much not so." She staggered again, tugging at his shirt as she abruptly sat down on the damp grass. "I do not sleep either. I am afraid that if I sleep, I will not wake up. Not as myself, any way, but as that monster. The... mutate." Her shoulders dropped. "So I came here tonight, hoping that I could forget, be the normal girl as much as I could be. But it did not work. It never works."

Fred slid easily onto the grass next to Yvette, keeping his arm around her shoulder, "...There ain't anythin' wrong with not bein fine." He'd spoken after several moments trying to deliberately choose his words, "Else, Ah mean, not bein fine ain't good, but it ain't...what Ah mean is, yah got the right tah not feel fine, Vette. Ah don't think there's any monster in yah at all. But Ah don't think Ah could say the same bout me. But yah proally would. Maybe it's just that we can't...look in, Ah guess? Ah dunno....shit..."

She gave a kind of hiccupping laugh and half-climbed, half tumbled into his lap. "Look at us," she said, curling up against him without even really realising the damage she was doing to his clothes. "Such the mess we are. So much for being the heroes, who never seem to be bothered by anything. How do the X-Men do it?"

Fred chuckled after a second, rearranging Yvette on his lap to scoop out a cigarette and his Zippo, "Wanna know a secret?" Fred didn't speak again until he'd lit his smoke, "Ah get the distinct impression they're all as batshit as we are, Vette. Down to a one of em, all just totally messed up."

"Then they are much better at hiding it." It was strange, how the the smell of cigarette smoke had becoming almost soothing to Yvette. She'd disliked it before, but now it was just another part of Fred, like his ridiculous t-shirts and liking for bad movies.

"I think there were too many shots with Angel," she said after a short silence with her head against his chest, listening to his heart beat and feeling the rhythm of his breathing. "The world is spinning."

Fred looked down to where Yvette's hair was currently skewering his 'Zombeavers' t-shirt. He tried to sound matter-of-fact, but he couldn't keep the laughter out of his voice. Yvette sounded like she was describing some new state of being, rather than "too many shots".

"Yeah, that's bein’ called 'too damn drunk', Vette. It's the brain's way of remindin yah not to drink and bunch and climb on tables. I know we're both pretty messed up in tha head right now, but Ah got bad news for yah: ain't nuthin compared to tha hangover yer gonna wake up with."

"I did not think of that." She paused. "Will there be no hangover if I do not go to sleep? Perhaps the insomnia is not such a bad thing."

Fred couldn't help it. Didn't even see if coming, so kneejerk was his reaction to Yvette's trying to 'out-awake' a hangover. He threw his head back and laughed. A deep, even sound that may have actually slightly shook the ground around him. When he finally calmed down from Yvette's proposed hypothesis, he took a few breaths. God, he couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed like that...

"Tah be honest, Ah wouldn't call that... all that close to tha best plan, Vette. Nowhere near. Let me take yah to the Diner and we'll overdose on Toast, Eggs,and Water. That and some ibuprofen'll take care of the worst of it." It wasn't like either of them were sleeping any time soon.

The sound of Fred's laughter had loosened something in Yvette, and she was genuinely smiling at him when he recovered himself, despite the teasing. "That is sounding like the far better plan," she admitted, nestling into his arms again. "I think I am done with the partying for a while."