Jean and Angelo: Sympathies (Backdated)

[x-jeangrey.livejournal.com]

After the talk with Scott and Clarice, Jean runs into Angelo.



They spilled out one after another from the sun room, Clarice was first, a storm in her eyes as she stalked off, muscles rigid, fists clenched, headed toward the Danger Room. Scott was next, his features burdened and weary as he made his way the opposite direction.

And then there was Jean. Her shoulders were slumped as she left the room, keeping her eyes to the ground. She looked like she had been blindsided, and wandered down the hall like a zombie.

Angelo had heard the commotion - not in any detail, he hadn't been close enough to catch words, but shouting was the kind of thing to catch attention. He stepped out of a door, frowning, and moved to intercept Jean.

"Hey. You want to go upstairs? I've got tea." (Amanda still came to visit often, of course he had tea.)

Jean glanced up at Angelo, looking right through him for a moment, then shook her head.

"It's my fault. There's nothing to talk about."

"Well, there's whatever was your fault", he said gently. "If you want to. Or you could just have a drink with me."

Jean folded her arms, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, and looked away. Finally she nodded.

"Okay," she said softly.

"Okay", Angelo echoed and offered an arm. He wasn't touching her without permission even on the shoulder, not forcing anything on her, but a friendly hand was there if she wanted it.

After a moment, Jean took his arm and let him lead the way toward his room. She didn't look at people as they passed, and stayed silent during the walk, running over the conversation she'd just had over and over, and over in her mind, remembering words and tones and faces.

Angelo kept glancing at her sideways, worried by her silence and seeming numbness, but didn't say anything until they were in his suite, safely behind the closed door.

"Sit, sit. JP's out."

Making her way over to a chair, Jean sunk down, her fingers clutching at the armrests as if she were bracing for impact. She closed her eyes, then rested her head against the back of the chair, opening her eyes to stare at the ceiling as if it had answers written up there.

"As far as first impressions go....I make a great example of what not to do."

"You want to tell me what happened?" he asked gently, heading for the kitchenette to make the promised tea. "And what's your favourite?"

"Vanilla chai if you have it," Jean said. She wasn't going to sleep any time soon if her thoughts had any say, so why fight it?

She shook her head. "I was a self-righteous bitch. That's what happened."

"Vanilla chai's probably in here somewhere..." Angelo peered at her over the counter. "To Clarice, I'm guessing?"

Jean kept her eyes pointed toward the ceiling. "Yeah," she said, letting out a breath.

"We never really clicked in the first place, so when she cut off the guy's thumb I went to Scott Summers about it. I thought if I talked to her about it directly then it wouldn't go well. So I thought it might be better if he talked to her since he knew her better. I didn't know if what she did was normal. If it was then I didn't want to be with the X-Men. It wasn't. He said it might be a good idea to talk to her, since I had a different perspective. I thought it might be better for the both of us to do it since I didn't know if she'd listen to me."

She tugged at a loose string on the chair. "We met in the sunroom, and...I didn't know what to say. We never had this happen in X-Corps...So Mr. Summers asked her what happened and she told us, and she said X-Men do what get the job done. And then....I....wasn't thinking and I...turned into her mother. And went off on her about...expectations and...all sorts of crap. I forgot this wasn't X-Corps....and I'm not the field leader anymore....and I'm still new. The X-Men don't work like we do. And I was frustrated with everything else and I had these ideas and things weren't how I imagined them so I went into idealistic know-it-all bitch-mode. I apologized but the damage was done"

Covering her face with her hands for a few moments, she finally pulled them away.

"Pretty sure I'm not invited to any parties with Clarice and Mr. Summers."

Hearing her call Scott 'Mr. Summers' was just... bizarre, with all Angelo knew, but he hoped if any of that thought showed on his face, Jean would think it was a reaction to the rest.

"The X-Men don't kill, that's been a rule from the start. But things short of killing... it depends on the person. And since M-Day, nothing's really been normal."

Jean noticed the way Angelo's eyebrow rose when she said Scott's name. She shook her head.

"He wants me to call him that. So I'm rolling with it," she said, then rubbed her forehead.

"I waltzed in with this idea of how things should be in my head, how Charles would talk about this place like it's a utopia. And I expected.....well, perfection. People fighting for peace like...I don't even know. Warrior pacifists? Because I wanted it like a foolish child. The world's not like that. So why did I expect any differently? Especially after M-Day. So I keep messing up...saying the wrong things, doing the wrong things. Trying to control things. Ignoring people's pain because I just want it to go away and not have to walk around them on eggshells. Because why? It's all about me? God, I feel so selfish," she groaned, burying her head in her hands again.

"It's my fault. I messed it up. I dug a hole, so I need to lie in it."

"Charles has big dreams", he said with a fond smile. "Maybe someday the world will even be like he wants it to be. But I don't think you're selfish, I think you're just... trying too hard. I've known Clarice a long time, and when she's had time to cool down, you could try explaining some of this."

Jean stared down at her hands. "Maybe," she said, drawing her knees closer to her. She glanced up, smiling softly.

"Have any pointers on how to do that? Stop trying? I feel like there should be a magic spell for that. We've got it here now, right?" Why not put it to good use?

"We have got magic, but as far as I know, no spell for that. And I never said stop trying, just... maybe don't go so hard on the people on our side."

Pulling her knees up to her chest, Jean folded her arms and rested her chin there. It was slightly awkward to achieve due to how tall she was, all arms and legs and wild red hair but she made it work.

"I don't mean to be."

"Hey." He reached over to rest a hand on her shoulder. "I know you don't."

She let out a breath, reaching across to cover his hand with hers. She didn't know what to say.

"A lot of people are still feeling it. And some of us have always been prepared to go further than others."

Jean glanced away, nodding. "I guess it just threw me completely off guard. I expected some punches, kicking....you know, like the movies. Not....maiming. Mr. Summers agreed with me on that anyway. I just...took it too far when I talked to her. I imposed what I thought things should be instead of what is."

"Do you want me to talk to her about it?" he asked, not even sure what he'd say

"No..." Jean said, shaking her head. "I need to talk to her myself. That's what I should've done anyway. I think it's a big part of why she's mad in the first place, right after me telling her how things should be done when it was my first mission. And she's right, I don't blame her there. I'd be mad too if the situation was reversed. It just...seemed really extreme of a reaction. It didn't feel....normal. I figured it had something to do with the mission being so close after M-Day. Going into battle right after you just lost a bunch of people wouldn't wear well on anyone, " She sighed.

"So do I just look the other way when this happens? If it feels wrong? I don't know if I can do that, Ange."

He had a feeling there was more to it, with Jean not being their Jean, and what the Dark Phoenix had done, but he couldn't say a word of that to this Jean.

"Then don't. Nobody says you have to be an X-Man... you could help me rebuild X-Corps instead, starting with figuring out how."

Falling silent for a few moments, Jean uncurled from her position. "Maybe. I'll think about it. I don't know what I want to be right now," she admitted.

"But I don't think I want to just completely write them off because of a misstep. It was just my first mission. I can't....judge how something will go just because things didn't go how I planned. If I can't get along with people than I shouldn't be on any team. This is a new world. Things are different than they were before. I can feel it. I don't think it'll ever be the same, no matter how much I want it to be." Scott--Mr. Summers was right. This was a different time. Maybe she had to approach things differently. She had to see it from their perspective.

"Sometimes the teams work together," he pointed out. "And we can all read each other's reports. You don't have to make any decision right now."

Jean nodded. "Yeah. I'll think about it. Right now I need to focus on getting through today. And figuring out how to get past this."

"Getting through today will be easy," Angelo said with a flicker of a smile. "Getting past this, if you're wanting to be friendly with Clarice again..."

"Again?" Jean said, tilting her head.

"Well. I mean. You got on okay before this, didn't you?"

There was no verbal backspacing. None at all.

Jean made a face. "Not really," she said. She shrugged. "But yeah, eventually that would be nice."

She nodded. "I'll try." It was a different world. She had to adapt.

"You've got to live under the same roof," he said sympathetically. "You should at least try to get to no glaring in the hallways."

"Yeah. Or if we have to work together in the medlab," Jean said, which made them both a captive audience. Either way there was no around it.

"You'll get there," Angelo offered with confidence. "It wouldn't be any more fun for her than you."

Jean glanced down. "Yeah," she said. She didn't know what else to say.

He pushed the teacup into her hands.

"Here."

Jean smiled softly, breathing in the spicy aroma of the tea. "Thanks," she said, glancing up. "For everything."

"You're welcome. You know you can always come here, if you need to talk."

Nodding a little, Jean felt the warm cup in her hands as she picked it up to take a sip. The day was done. Tomorrow was always a second chance.