The Hedgehog and the Fox - Why Don't You Want Me Anymore?

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Everything comes to a head.



In that space, between falling and impact, there was a memory.

It was raining. Jennie had done something stupid. She'd tried to run. Tried to hurt Donal so he'd see who she really was. What she really was. A scared little girl who couldn't love.

Who couldn't BE loved.

They were shouting at one another in the street. She had run, and he had chased her. And there they were. This was the point of no return. Where her life had shifted, and everything changed.

"Jen, listen to me. For once just listen, okay? You came into my life, when I didn't want you. I was fine! I was okay! And then you came barging in insiting that I change-- and my nice, safe, okay life fucking shattered!"

"Donal--"

"What you did, it can't be undone. I can't take back what I just said because it's true. I love you, Jen. I love you. You got in there and messed me up good and I'm so fucking glad that you did. Because my nice, safe life was shit. But I can't pretend that this isn't happening anymore. I can't pretend I don't love you as much as I do. You've cut me up and broken me up, yeah, but you also found me when I was just a drunk with no life and no real prospects and you forced me out. If you're who you think you are, d'you think that would have even been possible?"

"I don't, I'm not--" Jennie said, shaking her head.

"You were the first person who told me I could be something. That I was more than this thing that I'd become. That I was more than a monster," he put his hands on her shoulders, and forced her to to look in his eyes. "You taught me that I could be a hero. And... and you taught me that I could be loved. That I was worthy of love."

"Oh, Donal, you are. You are more than worthy," Jennie said.

"Then why aren't you?" He said, voice shaking. "Why can't I love you?"

"Because I'm like broken glass!" Jennie shouted, pulling away from him. "You can't get too close to me or I'll cut you to pieces! Hasn't this last week taught you anything about the kind of person I am?"

"It's taught me you're scared," he said, "You are one of the bravest people I've ever met. I never thought I'd see the one thing that would make you run away. And I never thought it would be me," he added bitterly.

"Donal-- It's not that," she said desperately. "You are so... amazing. Can't you see I'm trying to protect you?"

"From what?" he said, his voice finally rising. "YOU? God Jen, you couldn't protect me from you if you tried. The grenade's exploded, the bullet's hit, there's no taking this back. All that you are, all that you've done... I don't understand a bunch of it, and some of it does scare me, but I want to understand it. I want that chance. I want you."

"Why?" Jennie said, fighting back that sick ball of misery that rose up in her. "After everything I've done, why?"

"Because that's nothing to everything you did before! You are so... brilliant." Donal said. "And I'm no saint either, I said and did things I shouldn't of out of jealousy. But don't want to do that anymore. I know there's something here. We've both felt it. And I refuse to deny it anymore. All it's doing is making both of us miserable. So please," he held out his hand. "Jen, please. I love you."

"I can't," Jennie said, putting her hands over her ears. Self-loathing rose up in her, choking her.

"Jen-- please."

"I can't!" Jennie yelled. "Please Donal, why can't you see this? I'm no good. You deserve better."

There was a long silence then, broken only by the patter of the rain and the swish of a passing car. Donal stared at her, while she steadfastly refused to look him in the eye.

"If that's your answer," Donal said finally, drawing away. He looked smaller. "All right then," he bit his lip and looked down, thinking. "I'll accept it. But you can't come close to me any more. I can't handle it. I can't just switch off, and pretend that I'm okay. I'll need time."

"Okay," Jennie whispered, hugging herself.

He made to reach out, and then stopped, thinking better of it. He dropped his arm to the side and sighed, looking completely miserable. Jennie wanted to go to him, to make him be okay again, but that horrible self-loathing pinned her to the spot, made her unable to move.

He stuck hands in his pockets and turned away from her, starting down the road. A wretchedness washed over Jennie, even deeper than her own self-loathing. She put her face in her hands, feeling so inexplicably sad. It was for the best, wasn't it? He should love someone who could love him back.

Right?

Right?

It wasn't like she could return his feelings.

Couldn't she? a part of herself whispered.

She was a robot, a broken thing. She didn't do Feelings. She most certainly didn't do Love.

Who says? that insufferable part of herself whispered.

It was for the best!

Then why was she so fucking sad? Why did it feel like a hole had opened up in her universe? A Donal-shaped hole. The thought of not being with him anymore, or not seeing him, talking to him, laughing with him-- was devastating. Wasn't she always happiest when he was around? When they were apart, wasn't she always wondering when she could see him again? Wasn't he the one she looked for when things got tough, wasn't he the one she always fought the hardest to protect?

So what was that, if it wasn't love?

She turned and saw him, shoulders hunched against the rain, a dark figure disappearing into the twilight. She was losing him, forever. In her mind's eye she saw the broken road that had lead her to this, the spaces in the universe where certain people should be. Here, the mother-shaped hole in the universe, and over here, a Julia one. She'd loved them both so much, and losing them had been like cutting off her fingers. She functioned but she missed them every day. Was she willing to do that again? Was it worth it? She thought of the men she'd tried to love, of the last time she'd had a friend that meant so much to her, and how much it hurt when he just ...went away. It was a wreck, a mess. She was just broken glass, leaving a trail of destruction where-ever she went.

But those boys-- for that's what they had been, boys-- had never stood in front of her and been as brave as Donal had been. Noble, kind Donal, who for the longest time couldn't see his own worth, how bright of a light he was, shining in the dark. It was almost hilarious, the irony of him standing before her and telling her how much she was worth.

And it didn't matter how much she struggled, he'd ripped a Donal-shaped hole in her universe anyway, and no matter if she tried to save them both the outcome was still the same. So why incur all that pain for nothing? Why not... be happy first?

Why not? That voice said. No really. Why not?

And that did something to her. That feeling echoed deep inside her, causing a chain reaction. A crumbling of steel and iron and solid stone. But it wasn't quite there, not yet, there was one more thing--

She thought of the dream, running through the white-tiled tunnels of the the underground, always looking for that missing something. And... ever since Moscow, what always happened next. It was all so obvious, it had been in plain sight the entire time.

Oh, Jennie thought. Oh, DUH.

Something came loose in Jennie then. It washed away the doubt and the fear and the self-loathing. And a certainty was left in its place.

Then she was running, running. The world slowed around her, and her breath was too loud in her ears, her footfalls smacking against wet pavement were even louder. Yet he didn't turn. She called his name.

He started, turned, and she slid to a stop, almost falling. He caught her, stumbling a bit with her.

"Jen--?" he said.

"I can't--" Jennie said, fighting to catch her breath. "I can't-- not without you. Never without you. Please?"

Donal's hands were on her shoulders and his eyes were on hers. His real eyes, beneath furrowed brows and the sodden hair plastered to his forehead. He titled his head at her, confused, plainly. A wave of tenderness rolled through her. He had been naked before her, in all the ways that counted. It was time for Jennie to do the same.

"I've been having this dream ever since I came out here. It's kind of a nightmare but not like, the horrible screamy kind, just one that would always make me feel super uneasy-- It's... I keep walking places on the underground. Down the tunnels and up the escalators and getting on and off the trains and I keep looking for something but I don't know what it is. It's this huge chunk of missingness, and I keep having this dream over and over," Jennie said, shivering the cold. Donal watched her, impassively.

Jennie took a deep breath. Get to the point, Stavros. "And I keep having it to this day, but it changed not long ago. Because I'd still be looking for whatever it was I was missing, but I'd turn around and there you'd be." His hands tightened on her shoulders. "A-and, you would always say not to worry, and you'd be right behind me. And I'd always feel better. That's when that dream quit being a nightmare."

"Jen--" he started.

"Wait, wait-- I'm almost done. So I'm a bit dense, all right? It took me watching you walk away to realize what that dream meant," Jennie took a deep breath and sniffled, for she was crying, the sheer terror of this moment was almost overwhelming, but she would be brave. Things were going to change forever, from this moment on, and that was okay.

"Donal, I-I do love you. I do. I love you. I have for a while now, I think. And you were right, I was just too scared to admit it. And being so scared I said and did things I shouldn't and I just kept hurting you over and over again. And I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. But I'm not going to do that anymore. I'm going to be brave. I'm going to crack myself open and lay it at your feet. I still think you deserve better, but the thought of not having you in my life anymore scares me MORE than anything else, so I'm going to be better.

I love you, Donal McGrath. Of all the people in the world, you are the person I love best. I am here, now, and I'm yours--" and here she broke off because he pulled her to his chest in one swift motion, holding her tightly.

Her hands moved around his waist and she was holding him just as tightly. "I'm sorry," she said. "I love you." The ground grew steadier, and the world stopped spinning. Here, now, she was okay. All was right, all was well. There would be no Donal-shaped hole, but a Donal-shaped anchor.

"I love you," Donal said. He pulled back and she reached up and they kissed, hard. Both of them trembling from the wet, and the cold, and how close they had come to losing one another. The kiss was one of relief, and one of coming home. They hugged again, clinging to each other like children.

"Never let me go?" she said into his shoulder.

"Never, never," Donal promised.

They would have continued to hold onto one another like that for who knows how long, but life being what it was, a black cab swished by, splashing them both and soaking their jeans through with dirty, cold water. Jennie squealed and Donal swore.

And then they were looking at each other, looking like drowned cats and they were laughing. Donal wrapped an arm around Jennie's shoulders and planted a kiss on her forehead.

"Time to get in out of the rain now, yeah?"

"Yeah," Jennie said, and then stepped away with an impish smile. "Race you back home?"

"Of course," he said, and without a moment's hesitation took off running.

"You--!" Jennie yelled after him.

"First one back gets me only towel!" he called over his shoulder.

"Oh it's on," Jennie said, and then sprinted after him. Their laughter echoing through the empty twilight street.

***

In the present, Jennie fell into darkness.

She reached out with her power, pulling the last bits of luck to her. The world shuddered, and Jennie felt the throb of her lucksnap through every cell of her body.

"Fu--" Jennie hit the ground with a thud, but no bones broke, no skull smashed. But she saw stars, and pain exploded through every fiber of her being as her lucksnap reverberated, the world resetting itself. Movement was agony. She stared hopelessly up as a dark shape plunged down after her, hitting the concrete with a crack.

"Oh Jennie-girl," Donal said. He crawled over to her, and straddled her. He considered her carefully, tilting his head this way and that.

"Perhaps," he raised a fist. "Perhaps it will be quick."

"I lied," Jennie whispered through blood-stained lips. "I never stopped loving you."

Donal stopped as if struck, his eyes wide. His fist shook and Jennie prepared herself for the blow. However, instead of putting his fist through her skull, he sat frozen above her — seemingly at war with himself. He opened his shattered eyes even wider and bared his teeth. He looked completely insane.

Then he ripped himself away from her and disappeared into the darkness.

***

Clint tripped.

There were no rocks, there wasn’t even any scrub grass. His boots weren’t untied, the Disciple was nowhere near close enough to him to have managed it, even with his tentacle fingers. Clint just outright tripped on nothing.

He landed on his face but didn’t let himself linger despite the pain radiating through his cheek from impact. Continuous movement didn’t do Clint much good, though, as he felt a spray of liquid hit the back of his tac vest, his neck, and his head. If this was mercury, which he was still betting it was, chances were good that this… wasn’t the usual kind. Elemental mercury was one thing, usually only harmful if vapors were inhaled.

Scaling the side of the building again, Clint paused just long enough to reload his guns even though bullets and knives didn’t seem to be doing him any good against his opponent. Methylmercury, his brain supplied as he went through a window. The Disciple just followed him, which gave Clint the chance to shoot him full of holes as he came over the window ledge.

His knife clunked to the ground below him, so Clint dropped down to the floor of the factory to retrieve it. The Disciple came through the wall. There was no other way to describe it. Black blood still ran over his skin, but Clint could see through the rips in the man’s clothing that the wounds he’d made had closed. The elongated fingers touched the concrete floor, scraping small furrows into them as the Disciple moved toward him.

If one of those scratched him properly, Clint was pretty sure the mercury poisoning would kill him. A gram of methylmercury was enough to be fatally toxic.

***

Jennie pulled herself up, and scooted until her back hit concrete. Her breathing was loud in her ears, and her pulse was thumping. What in God’s name had just happened? He had her. What was he doing? Why?

She heard a soft cackle in the darkness, which ended in a strangled sob.

Whatever was happening, she was not going to let this end until one of them was not walking away. She reached into her armored padding, touching the asset she’d hidden there. It felt unharmed. And.. there! She scrambled and found her shotgun, lying where Donal had tossed it earlier.

She clutched it to her chest and willed her heart to stop hammering. She could still heard Donal, laughing in the darkness.

“Oooooh punk rock girl,” he sang, in-between giggles. “Please look at me, Punk rock girl, what do you see? Let’s travel ‘round the world--”

Jennie closed her eyes. He’d sung that to her once at kareoke. As horribly as he could just to annoy her. Images flashed through her mind. Of the time before, of who he was before.

Them-- walking home drunk from a pub. Well, he was walking, she was on his back. They were singing, celebrating. It must have been New Year's, as slush crunched under his boots. They watched the sun come up, blinking like half-drunk owls side-by-side on her bed, in a blanket wrapped around both their shoulders.

An argument-- Jennie couldn't remember what it was about, but it was over something foolish. His face frustrated and tense, her wound as tight as a spring. She had to go for a long walk to cool down afterwards, and came home sullen. And very, very sorry. He’d hugged her and kissed the top of her head.

And then, a quiet moment. Sitting at the kitchen table in their new flat in their boxers and t-shirts, unpacked boxes at their feet, him eating cereal and reading a magazine while Jennie tapped away at her tablet. Looking up at him and smiling as he wiped milk from his chin, and then going back to reading the news. So blessedly normal. Jennie's heart hurt.

She gritted her teeth. This was going to end. Now.

She stood and felt pain shoot up and down her body, through her back. The world felt watery, the lines of good and luck wavering as the world remembered itself. She was going to risk another lucksnap-- a bad one-- if she pushed too much, but her will to survive was much stronger than her caution.

She reached out and felt along the lines, then she turned and pulled the trigger. The singing cut off, followed by an “Ow.”

Jennie pumped out the cartridge and shot again. Donal stumbled out of the darkness, into the light of the short day that came through the hole in the wall, an opening that looked out over the bay. Quick as a flash she was on him, pulling the asset out of her shirt and smacking it onto his chest. She backed away, shotgun at the ready, but all he did was stare down at the small lights of the incendiary device she’d just attached to him.

And laugh.

And then, just as quickly, he turned and jumped.

“No--” Jennie heard herself say, her hand coming up as the explosion rocked the building and knocked her off her feet.

She scrambled to her feet as quickly as she could, coughing as bits of plaster and concrete rained down on her. She looked out the hole in the wall, towards where Donal had gone, and could only see smoke and debris floating in the bay.

If she was lucky, Donal had burned up in the blast. If not...

She leaned her head against the wall, the weight of all of her injuries moving through her in a haze of pain. She collected herself for a moment and then pushed away.

She had to get to Clint.

***
At least, Clint thought. At least I’ll have a week or two before the effects really hit. He doubted he’d have more than that. Mutants with offensive powers didn’t tend to have weak offensive powers. And… well. He didn’t actually know if this guy was a mutant or not. He’d bet he was.

Reaching into one of his pockets, he pulled out a spherical, mini-bomb and chucked it at his opponent — only… only it didn’t land where it was supposed to and Clint froze for a moment. He knew better — he knew better than to let shock effect him during a fight, but he couldn’t help it. He’d never missed a mark. Even when he was all of seven years old, he’d never missed.

He missed this time, though.

The world tilted a little sideways for him. Clint wondered if that meant the mercury was getting into his bloodstream faster than expected thanks to dermal absorption. But no, the world righted itself. He raised a gun to fire at the man again, but it jammed. “That the fuck?”

The Disciple started laughing, the sound grating at Clint’s already frayed nerves. Only… then the Disciple tripped. What the Hell was up with all this tripping? Clint took a step back, breathing hard, and wiped at the back of his neck and his head where the mercury had landed earlier. The bomb he’d thrown chose that moment to explode — rather, to pop and fizzle. Not much of an explosion, that.

“Hey, dickhead!” a shout echoed across the empty walls. The Disciple and Clint both turned to see Jennie, bloodied and bruised, and the thing she had slung over her shoulder.

The backup asset.

A rocket launcher the Widow had acquired somewhere just because.

With a press of the trigger, Jennie shot the rocket, and with a little luck it hit the Disciple, throwing him out the window, where both he and the rocket exploded.

“Thanks,” Clint said, bending forward at the waist to brace his hands on his knees. He was splattered all over with the metallic liquid, still betting it was methylmercury, but he’d need to get home quick to run tests on it to be sure. And maybe try to keep himself from dying. That’d be good. “Very nice. Many thanks. Jesus Christ, I had like no luck there at the end.”

“That may have been me, sorry,” Jennie said, tossing the spent launcher to the side. She cradled her injured ribs with one hand. “I think I got him. I told Edith to get away. I think-- I hope she did.”

Her words were punctuated by the wail of a police siren.

“Shit,” she limped to the hole in the wall. The courtyard was empty, no Disciple to be seen. “I hope that was her. Let’s get out of here. They weren’t here for me, they were here for something else. We were a distraction.”

“Okay,” Clint said, nodding. “Let’s be quick. I need to get samples of this stuff to the lab at the mansion. And to see if I need to start treatment for mercury poisoning.” He was still bleeding from the hit to his cheek and he couldn’t be completely sure none of the liquid from the Disciple’s fingertips had gotten into it.

“Here,” Jennie pressed glowing white fingertips to his chest. “That should make you lucky enough to avoid anything bad. Ngh--” she collapsed against him. “That was all I had,” she panted. The sirens were getting closer. “Let’s-- let’s go, ok?”

“Thanks.” Wrapping one arm around Jennie’s waist to offer support, Clint nodded and started them off, hobbling toward the back of the building even as he pulled out his phone to call Clarice. He could hit up the safe house some other time to collect their things later. Right now, they just needed to be out of here.