Log: [Doug, Haller, Rachel] Home

[x-legion.livejournal.com]

Early Sunday morning, Doug sees something that no doubt makes him wish for an additional caffeine infusion.



One of the sometimes overlooked aspects of security at Xavier's, especially in light of M-Day, was the human factor - for all the technological aspects, and there were many. someone always had to be watching them, especially a camera at the front gate. You never knew who could just walk up.

And so it happened that Doug was the one checking in on things when he spotted two figures walking toward the gate, and no car anywhere nearby.

They paused a good couple of meters away from the gate, just far enough that he could not make out their features clearly enough to get an ID on them, but close enough that it was fairly obvious that it was a man and a woman and that they were... squabbling? Rather animatedly, if her wild gesticulations were anything to go by.

There was a flash of colour on the screen, a dangling braid of vivid red hair swinging from the petite figure's head as she launched into the air, both arms wrapped around her companion's arm. Between one blink and the next, the pair leaped over the tall gate and out of the frame, having clearly broken into the school.

Doug swore. Except the perimeter alarms hadn't sounded, so they clearly recognized the pair. And then the flash of red hair and the casual disregard for little things like boundaries and 'breaking and entering' caught up in his brain. And he swore again and went racing for the front door. Not loud enough to wake anyone, but still at breakneck speed.

The blond opened the door to find a mild squabble still in progress.

"-reason not to ask someone to buzz us in," the decidedly not petite, not redheaded intruder was admonishing his companion. His tone suggested he didn't consider the situation critical, but felt it should still be said.

"Pffffsh... Hi!" The woman chirped, head swivelling to rest sharp verdant eyes on Doug. She looked far too cheerful in the face of his expression, but there was an underlying weariness -- a tightness to the corner of her eyes and an unusual lilt to her tone -- that hinted at an exhaustion that had wound insidiously deep into her bones.

Still, she seemed relax enough to shove a finger into her companion's ribs to end their argument. "Room for two?"

Haller turned, noticing the other man for the first time. "Oh," he said, "Doug. Sorry if we alarmed you. Certain persons were too impatient for an intercom." His blue eyes studied the younger man slightly longer than seemed necessary. While his expression lacked Rachel's relief it did show a hint of detached interest.

Doug was schooled in keeping his expression neutral, but two people who knew him as well as these two would see the shock in his eyes and the slightest quirk of his lips. "Well, it seems to be our month for unexpected resurrections," he said drily. The humor gave him more time to take in the body language facing him. "It's good to have you back, Red," he told Rachel. "Y'know, -again-. Seven more to go?"

Something was off about Haller, though, and it took Doug a bit to realize what it reminded him of. His breath caught in his throat, and he felt the ghost of manacles around his wrists and ankles as he thought about sharing a cell in Genosha with Haller looking that detached and closed off. "It's good to have you both back," he said, a bit guardedly, when he turned to greet Haller.

But Rachel was having none of that as she tucked herself into Haller's side, the other psion not even putting up so much as a token protest as she wrinkled her nose at Doug. Rachel and Doug had never gotten over their awkwardness around each other after the crumbling of her own world in which he had featured front and centre as a villain. So while she could sort of understand Doug's reservations about David being not quite David and not quite Jim or Legion, she couldn't help but be a tad defensive on her brother's behalf.

"I'll only return the sentiment if there are hot baths to be had and no impending Apocalypse to deal with." Pun totally intended, guys.

Haller snaked his arm behind Rachel's back and gave her braid a tug. "Thank you. Now that you've officially jinxed it we'll have time to prepare." Haller was still studying Doug. "You're the same," he remarked, blinking for the first time in slightly too many seconds. "From our world, I mean, not someone shaped to fit. I recognize you. Interesting."

"Be careful who you bandy that about with," Doug replied. "Not sure if you got the download from Xorn when he patched things together, but something something world collapsing if people question, yadda yadda." He was grateful to Xorn for saving them from oblivion, but that didn't mean he wasn't grumpy about the particulars.

"Hot water aplenty, Rachel," he told the redhead, then wrinkled his nose back at her. "Also how the hell do you wind up aging like five to ten years every time you reappear?"

"Huh. Five to ten years, really? I thought it was just my stupid hair." Rachel traded glances with Haller, frown creasing her brows. He had said something was off about her, but she had brushed it off. If Doug was commenting on it, though, it meant that it was probably true. "I dunno. Xorn is sometimes a troll and the AP likes to fuck with me? David looks the same, though, right?"

"Physically? Yeah." Doug's fingers flexed, and he heaved a sigh. "Sorry, that was a bit brusque. What the hell happened to you?"

Haller shrugged. "Rachel's survival instincts. She got us out of Cerebro before the other Phoenix could redecorate it with the inside of our skulls. Thanks again, by the way."

The redhead butted Haller in the side with her head and dismissed his thanks with a vague wave of her free hand, the other still curled around his waist.

"We ended up on the Astral Plane. Because that's what happens when trauma happens to me, apparently. Since there was some serious shit going down here and Xorn wasn't too keen on the details before he kinda went splodey himself into the Spiral himself, we decided to hang out there for a while and regroup." And grieve, and exist in nothingness and the everythingness, and do nothing really. She shrugged, and quirked a wry smile at Doug. "So can we come in, or what? We can continue swapping stories over some warm food and netflix. Is the Professor here?"

They were who they said they were. Doug wasn't a telepath, but it was extremely difficult to fool him, and he would put money down that they were the real McCoy. He waved them in. "The professor's here. But this whole business wasn't easy on him."

Haller nodded as Doug stood aside to allow them in, indifferent to the younger man's lingering reservations. "No," he remarked, "It wouldn't have been."

The tall man disentangled himself from the redhead and turned to rest his hands lightly on Rachel's shoulders. "I should tell Charles what happened in private," he said. While his attention shifted, his eyes remained on hers. "Doug, could you help her get settled while I let the professor know we're back? We've been on the road for a while. And please remind her that food is important. She won't take my word for it, and for some reason she seems to think the best way to recover from dropping two people down an entire plane of existence is to routinely take unnecessary telekinetic shortcuts."

The redhead merely rolled her eyes at him for the billionth time that day and gave him a light shove. "Fuck off," she snarled, but there was no heat behind it. "I'm fine. Go say hi to daddy and send my regards. Mr. Ramsay here will take good care of me, I'm sure."

She eyed Doug for a while, then flashed another disconcertingly cheerful smile at him. "Food, bath and then a discussion at length about what happened sound good to you? Oh, and we need to revisit that whole 'Rachel doesn't exist here' topic again." She added, almost thoughtful as she threaded an arm into Doug's and began leading him towards the kitchen while David obediently disappeared in the direction of Charles' office. "That never gets old."

Daddy. Huh. Doug's head turned back from watching Haller walk down the hall. Even money whether it was a truthful slip by Rachel, or up-to-the-line teasing. Either was entirely possible, knowing her. "Drama queen," he told her fondly as they headed toward the kitchen.