Jean and Warren: Friday Afternoon

[x-jeangrey.livejournal.com]

Now able to leave the house alone without fear of being assassinated, Jean visits Warren to thank him for saving her life. It goes about as well as expected.



Jean climbed out of the taxi, never expecting to find herself at Warren's apartment building again. But stranger things had happened. Grabbing her crutches, she hobbled her way toward the doorman.

"Hi Wayland," she said with a smile.

"He's expecting me. Do you mind if I go up?"

Wayland looked at Jean, the surprise clear on his face. "Of course, Ms. Grey. He left instructions you were to be brought up immediately." Pushing the call button for the elevator, he grinned. "And might I add that I am happy to see you again."

Glancing over her shoulder, Jean grinned back. "You too," she said. The elevator dinged and Jean stepped inside after the doors opened. The ride up took about as long as she remembered, which was a bit longer than normal being a top floor apartment. In fact having an elevator at all was a luxury in Manhattan. It often signaled privilege in and of itself. Adjusting her crutches, she trekked over to Warren's door and knocked.

The door was opened in quick fashion by Luz,who allowed Jean a concerned look. "Ms. Jean. I am glad to see you. Senor Worthington is in his study." Looking around, she motioned Jean inside. "Follow me, please."

Arriving at a wooden door, Luz knocked lightly before saying, "Warren, you have a visitor." When there was no reply, she continued. "It is Ms. Jean. She has come to see you."

A few moments later, the door opened. Warren looked at Jean impassively, before turning back into the study, leaving the door ‎open. He headed to his favourite leather wingback chair and made a motion with his hand.

"Well? Are you going to stand there and stare, or are you coming in?"

Sparing Luz a soft smile, Jean returned her attention back to Warren as she made her way into the room as quickly as a pair of crutches would allow. At the mansion she'd taken to hovering off the ground to get around if timeliness were an issue. But being here out in the 'real world' meant she had to move like everyone else.

She glanced Warren over. His abundance of stubble and the way he sat in the chair reminded him of a tortured poet or a bond villain. She couldn't decide which.

"You haven't been back at the mansion in awhile," she said.

Despite not speaking to him for a few months except for the whole life and death situation thing, she could still tell when he was at Xavier's, either through how people acted or occasionally sensing his presence.

Warren didn't comment right away. Instead, he sat up a bit straighter, and crossed one leg over the other. His blue eyes took in the sight of Jean, hobbling on crutches. His fault. He hadn't kept them in the air and she'd fallen.

This was why he hadn't gone to the mansion. The reminders were everywhere.

"I felt like being at home. Luz missed me."

Slowly nodding, Jean shifted and sat down on one of the couches.

"Right. And how long have you been at home?"

How long had it been?‎ Standing up, he headed to his desk, and flipped a few pages of his planner. His life was written down, every hour accounted for. Naturally, he wrote down the last day he was at the mansion.

"Four days. Exactly. It's been a busy time. Company to save, money to be made." He gave her a dry smile. "Is there a purpose to this trip? You're cutting into my reflection time."

Jean quirked a brow. It would've normally been a completely in-character statement but everything about this situation seemed off.

"I wanted to thank you for saving my life," she said. Reaching into her purse, she pulled out two white feathers.

"And give you these. I went back to the scene and found them on the ground. Figured you wouldn't want them falling into the wrong hands."

Especially when DNA could be extracted from feathers. She didn't know why she'd gone back. Perhaps Cecilia was right. Maybe she did have a death wish.

Warren looked at the feathers and was reminded of another time,on a rooftop, when he offered her one. It was a different time. He wondered if he'd ever get back to that place again.

"Saved my butt again, Jean," he said playfully, trying to mask his feelings. "I wouldn't have even thought about that. I appreciate it, but you can keep them. Throw them away. Stuff a pillow. Whatever." Reaching a hand up, he rubbed his chin, the stubble biting into the back of his hand.

"Are you sure you don't want compensation? Your help was much appreciated and I don't think you were thanked adequately." For a moment, the old Warren peeked through.

"I'm happy to pay in kisses."

Jean glanced away, clutching the feathers tightly a moment before letting them go. Rising from the couch, the feathers floated down to the ground as she grabbed her crutches.

"I will always be there if someone needs help. No matter what I said before. But it doesn't change what happened between us," she said. She finally looked back to him, shaking her head.

"You still broke my heart, Warren. And what kills me the most is you don't understand why. So I only want one thing...an apology."

Warren watched the feathers fall wistfully to the ground. ‎Their gentle sway created an envy in him -- no cares, nothing. Just the knowledge that the fall wouldn't hurt.

"An apology?" He quirked an eyebrow. "For what? Being myself? I told you in the beginning that I'd mess up, Jean. That I'd make you angry. I told you I didn't know how to be in a relationship. I opened myself up to you and you accepted. Did we ever say we were monogamous? Was a deeper commitment ever implied? Because that would have been nice to know.‎"

He looked away suddenly, unable to look at her anymore. "You're not the only one with feelings."

‎Blinking rapidly, Jean flinched, hurt, before she suddenly narrowed her eyes. "Bullshit," she said.

"Yeah, you tried to open up to me at first. But then you got so scared of actually showing someone what was underneath all that bravado and making a commitment to someone other than yourself that when the first time things got serious you panicked and fucked up on purpose to get out of it instead of trying to figure things out together," she said. She shook her head.

"I refuse to take the blame because I accepted you, expecting a lover and a partner instead of a child. I didn't want to be your mother. I just wanted to love you, Warren, but I'm not going to sacrifice my own happiness to do so. You're so afraid of letting someone in and love you for you that you'd rather hurt them. And until you find a way to get past that...you'll be surrounded by people but you'll be alone."

"And how am I supposed to learn anything if you're not willing to set an example?" His voice remained cool, but inside, his gut clenched. It was true, whispered a little voice in his head. Everything was true....but there was no way he'd admit it.
‎
Tilting her head, Jean fell silent for a moment or two before finally speaking.

"I could put up the biggest, brightest billboard in Times Square but it's useless if you keep choosing to ignore what you see in order to escape reality," she said. She turned to head toward the door.

"When you're ready to look, come find me. Until then....goodbye Warren."

Choosing not to answer, he watched her as she slipped out through the door, and waited. He waited until he heard no further noises, until he was completely convinced that she was gone.

Then, he let out a shuddering breath and slouched in his office chair.

Life was easier when he had no feelings.