Jean and Kyle: Wide Awake (backdated)
Aug. 2nd, 2021 03:11 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsJean wakes up for the first time after the events with Costa and surprises the hell out of Kyle.
TW: Sexual assault, death mentioned.
The mansion was on fire. Smoke billowed from under doors as flames licked across the ceiling.
Screams filled the air along with frantic pounding on doors. Jean raced down one of the hallways.
She reached for a door but pulled her hand away from the doorknob with a yelp as the heat from the knob burned the X insignia on her palm.
The sound of footsteps made her look up, and she caught sight of Costa standing at the end of the hall, adjusting a cuff link on his shirt sleeve. He smiled.
A loud bang made Jean turn her head but by the time she looked back he was gone.
"You're mine, Firebird," a voice whispered in her ear from behind, the smell of bourbon and brimstone on his breath. The world had faded away, and she was back in the club again, nude forms writhing just out of focus.
She froze in fear, slowly looking down to see his perfectly manicured hands reaching out to run themselves down her now naked body. Her heart threatened to beat out of her chest, and she could hear it growing more and more rapid, taking on a shrill tone.
Jean's eyes snapped open, and all the equipment around the Medlab bed slid away from her as she bolted up in bed, one hand to her throat while absently ripping off everything attached to her with her other hand.
"Hey hey hey. Doc. Lets, uh." There was the sound of tape ripping, and then a body hitting the floor. "Okay, Doc Jean, look, I'm gonna be under my bed here for a sec, but please don't take it personal, okay?"
Kyle's voice was slightly muffled and distorted. "You, uh." More noises, like someone was slithering around on the floor. "You kinda made a mess."
Jean looked around, seeing, but not quite seeing. Her eyes had broken blood vessels that stained them red, while her neck was an angry purple, with scratch marks from her own nails trailing down her skin.
"Where is he?" she rasped before being overcome with a coughing fit.
"Fuckboy demon? Long gone." Kyle's voice was still muffled, more so by being under the hospital bed.
"Doc. Jean. We're at the mansion. It's...we're safe. He can't get in, far as I know. I bet the X-Force magic weirdos are making sure right now. Holy water and salt or whatever."
Jean didn't say anything save for a faint, skeptical laugh, then looked down to follow his voice, finally noticing Kyle on the floor, and everything shoved against the walls.
She closed her eyes, suppressing a groan. "Damnit," she mumbled.
"I'm sorry," she said, weakly pulling herself out of bed. She offered him a hand up.
"Preciate it, but uh." Kyle took Jean's hand and struggled out from under the bed.
"It happens. You should get a recap from Clarice about all the words I used when she was debriding my face."
He stood and very carefully patted himself down to make sure all the bandages were still taped in place - his arm, fingers un-bandaged and shiny pink with new skin, all the way to his shoulder, and then his face, clean white bandages taped over his cheek and chin, a pad of them making a much too flat lump where his ear should have been.
"Then I threw up on her and passed out."
Jean slowly nodded. By then she was starting to teeter and she had to back up and sit down.
"I don't--I guess he did that to you after I---" she paused. Frowning, she glanced back to his bed.
"I can move it back."
"Most of this was me getting that mask thing." Kyle explained. "Minute I picked it up, it went all portal, but also set me on fire, so you know."
He took a deep breath, and then broke into the harsh cough of someone still healing from smoke inhalation. "Uh. Lets not, uh, put it back just yet, cause."
Another breath, but without the coughs this time. "Jean. Garrison, um, didn't get through the portal."
"What?" Jean started to sit up but her cracked ribs caused her to yelp in pain. Still, she ignored it and remained sitting.
"Is Amanda looking for a way to get back in? When do they leave?"
Kyle shook his head. "I don't know. I don't... " He cut himself off. "Brand said he didn't make it. That's all I know, but Jean I...I don't think it's the kind of place you get back from."
Jean stared at him in silence for a moment or two, almost as if she didn't hear him until she sucked in a breath.
"No. No. That's---that can't be right," she said firmly, shaking her head.
"Because the way you're saying it, it makes it sound like he's dead. And that can't be right. That---" She blinked at him. "Tell me you're joking."
"Not something I'd ever joke about." Kyle said, still shaking his head.
"It was pretty bad after you got knocked out. I'm roasted, Gabe was on an IV, I, uh. Jean, you look pretty awful, Brand was a mess. I don't...know how he'd...Nobody's confirmed but I don't feel good about it."
Looking away, Jean's mind raced. The world seemed to move slowly, and quickly, all at the same time. Her blood rushed against her ears. "That can't be right," she said softly. A tear rolled down her cheek, like water from a cracked glass.
"How the hell did it get so bad..." she said, a question to the universe she wasn't sure could be answered. She felt like the wind had been knocked out of her.
"Abigail fuckin' Brand is how." Kyle hopped back onto his infirmary bed, pulled his legs up and rested his chin on his knees.
"And fucking magic, which should be left to the goddamn spy weirdos, not us."
Jean didn't say anything. She wasn't sure what to say. Nothing felt right. Everything felt hollow. She felt hollow. Taking a glance at Kyle, she then looked back toward the wall, resting her head on her pillow.
Perhaps someday the world would be right again.
Just not tonight.
TW: Sexual assault, death mentioned.
The mansion was on fire. Smoke billowed from under doors as flames licked across the ceiling.
Screams filled the air along with frantic pounding on doors. Jean raced down one of the hallways.
She reached for a door but pulled her hand away from the doorknob with a yelp as the heat from the knob burned the X insignia on her palm.
The sound of footsteps made her look up, and she caught sight of Costa standing at the end of the hall, adjusting a cuff link on his shirt sleeve. He smiled.
A loud bang made Jean turn her head but by the time she looked back he was gone.
"You're mine, Firebird," a voice whispered in her ear from behind, the smell of bourbon and brimstone on his breath. The world had faded away, and she was back in the club again, nude forms writhing just out of focus.
She froze in fear, slowly looking down to see his perfectly manicured hands reaching out to run themselves down her now naked body. Her heart threatened to beat out of her chest, and she could hear it growing more and more rapid, taking on a shrill tone.
Jean's eyes snapped open, and all the equipment around the Medlab bed slid away from her as she bolted up in bed, one hand to her throat while absently ripping off everything attached to her with her other hand.
"Hey hey hey. Doc. Lets, uh." There was the sound of tape ripping, and then a body hitting the floor. "Okay, Doc Jean, look, I'm gonna be under my bed here for a sec, but please don't take it personal, okay?"
Kyle's voice was slightly muffled and distorted. "You, uh." More noises, like someone was slithering around on the floor. "You kinda made a mess."
Jean looked around, seeing, but not quite seeing. Her eyes had broken blood vessels that stained them red, while her neck was an angry purple, with scratch marks from her own nails trailing down her skin.
"Where is he?" she rasped before being overcome with a coughing fit.
"Fuckboy demon? Long gone." Kyle's voice was still muffled, more so by being under the hospital bed.
"Doc. Jean. We're at the mansion. It's...we're safe. He can't get in, far as I know. I bet the X-Force magic weirdos are making sure right now. Holy water and salt or whatever."
Jean didn't say anything save for a faint, skeptical laugh, then looked down to follow his voice, finally noticing Kyle on the floor, and everything shoved against the walls.
She closed her eyes, suppressing a groan. "Damnit," she mumbled.
"I'm sorry," she said, weakly pulling herself out of bed. She offered him a hand up.
"Preciate it, but uh." Kyle took Jean's hand and struggled out from under the bed.
"It happens. You should get a recap from Clarice about all the words I used when she was debriding my face."
He stood and very carefully patted himself down to make sure all the bandages were still taped in place - his arm, fingers un-bandaged and shiny pink with new skin, all the way to his shoulder, and then his face, clean white bandages taped over his cheek and chin, a pad of them making a much too flat lump where his ear should have been.
"Then I threw up on her and passed out."
Jean slowly nodded. By then she was starting to teeter and she had to back up and sit down.
"I don't--I guess he did that to you after I---" she paused. Frowning, she glanced back to his bed.
"I can move it back."
"Most of this was me getting that mask thing." Kyle explained. "Minute I picked it up, it went all portal, but also set me on fire, so you know."
He took a deep breath, and then broke into the harsh cough of someone still healing from smoke inhalation. "Uh. Lets not, uh, put it back just yet, cause."
Another breath, but without the coughs this time. "Jean. Garrison, um, didn't get through the portal."
"What?" Jean started to sit up but her cracked ribs caused her to yelp in pain. Still, she ignored it and remained sitting.
"Is Amanda looking for a way to get back in? When do they leave?"
Kyle shook his head. "I don't know. I don't... " He cut himself off. "Brand said he didn't make it. That's all I know, but Jean I...I don't think it's the kind of place you get back from."
Jean stared at him in silence for a moment or two, almost as if she didn't hear him until she sucked in a breath.
"No. No. That's---that can't be right," she said firmly, shaking her head.
"Because the way you're saying it, it makes it sound like he's dead. And that can't be right. That---" She blinked at him. "Tell me you're joking."
"Not something I'd ever joke about." Kyle said, still shaking his head.
"It was pretty bad after you got knocked out. I'm roasted, Gabe was on an IV, I, uh. Jean, you look pretty awful, Brand was a mess. I don't...know how he'd...Nobody's confirmed but I don't feel good about it."
Looking away, Jean's mind raced. The world seemed to move slowly, and quickly, all at the same time. Her blood rushed against her ears. "That can't be right," she said softly. A tear rolled down her cheek, like water from a cracked glass.
"How the hell did it get so bad..." she said, a question to the universe she wasn't sure could be answered. She felt like the wind had been knocked out of her.
"Abigail fuckin' Brand is how." Kyle hopped back onto his infirmary bed, pulled his legs up and rested his chin on his knees.
"And fucking magic, which should be left to the goddamn spy weirdos, not us."
Jean didn't say anything. She wasn't sure what to say. Nothing felt right. Everything felt hollow. She felt hollow. Taking a glance at Kyle, she then looked back toward the wall, resting her head on her pillow.
Perhaps someday the world would be right again.
Just not tonight.
