Log: Maya and Gabriel (Backdated)
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xp_logsBackdated to August 2nd
Maya checks up on Gabe after the events of Son's of Mutancy
Maya had managed a shower, and an injection for the migraine she’d gotten last night when they got back from the mission but even though she'd collapsed onto Topaz's couch after being stuffed full of food by Terry and Darcy, she'd woken up the next morning starving once again and in need of some home comforts.
She’d thought of Gabe as she was making the fry bread to take care of that little oversight, and while she knew he had a whole host of people who would probably look after him, she couldn’t think of many he’d actually accept that help from. At least not unless they were completely obnoxious about it.
She happened to have the ability to be pushy when it was needed.
She pulled out another plate from the cupboard above her and plated the extra fry bread she’d been making. She also grabbed a couple of condiments in their little carry box since some people liked to add stuff.
She’d already left extra on the counter for Nica and sent her friend a text to come get.
At Gabriel's door came a knock, and from Gabriel's couch came a small, weary sigh. He suspected someone would swing by at some point, but with Jean and Kyle in such bad shape, he thought he'd have more time to lie low and deal with, well, everything.
He winced a bit as he stood. More than anything, he was tired. His body, his mind; everything was exhausted. The brief stay in medlab had helped, but using his powers in a hell dimension had taxed him, and that had been the least of it. So he strode slowly to the door, preparing to cut short whatever conversation greeted him on the other side of it.
Gabriel didn't bother to smile as he opened it, though to his credit when he saw Maya, he didn't frown either. "Hey," he said rather evenly, the weariness clear on his face. "What's up?"
"Brought you some frybread," Maya replied, holding it out as an offering to the friendship Gods. She was aware that she was nobody's favorite person to see first thing in the morning, especially not after what had happened. "Thought you might need some food that doesn't come with people tiptoeing around you like you're about to explode in emotions."
Gabriel couldn’t help but give her a small smile. “You’d think I’d be used to it. Come on in.” He wasn’t sure whether he was hungry or not, but he appreciated the gesture. He took the plate from her, and without much fanfare, he strode back to the couch, feeling every step. “There’s drinks in the fridge if you want. Sodas, seltzer, whatever. Help yourself.”
“We’re surrounded by helpers.”
She left the statement there as if it explained just about everything that happened in the mansion and surroundings. Maya headed for the fridge and pulled out a soda, before pulling a bottle opener from a nearby drawer and opening it.
“You got the good stuff.”
Gabriel shrugged as he dropped the food on his coffee table and flopped onto the sofa cushions. "I try to keep it well-stocked," he said. It was true: ever since M-Day, he'd learned the benefits of preparing for stretches during which, for whatever reason, he couldn't deal with a trip to the mansion's kitchen. "Old bartending habit, I guess."
Not wanting to be rude, he ripped off a piece of the frybread and popped it into his mouth. It felt thick and heavy as he chewed and swallowed, but he knew that had more to do with his apparent lack of appetite than anything else. "Delicious," he said because he sensed that it was and because that's what you did.
“Don’t look now but I think your agent just called to give you the Razzie for world's worst liar.”
Maya’s tone was mild, she’d brought the frybread as a gesture but hadn’t expected too much from it. Nobody ever tasted much when they were distressed, no matter what it was from.
“I mostly just wanted to check in and make sure you had everything you needed. I mean, I’m happy to hang out and entertain you but I figured you’d sooner drown yourself in the toilet than play bar trivia with me.”
Gabriel shrugged. "Yeah. I dunno. I'm just..." He looked at his hands, unsure exactly what to say. He was not going to tell her everything; even if he wanted to, it was all too fresh, and he wasn't even sure how he'd say it.
"I'm tired," he finally said, because it was more or less true. "I mean, it was intense. You know that. And I just — well, demon dimensions really fuck with me and my powers. And... everything's just..." He shrugged again.
“All gone to shit?”
Maya walked across and sat down on the other sofa, taking a swig of her drink before she placed the bottle on the coffee table beside the fry bread.
“Fucked up beyond all recognition? I think I started inventing swear words during that last fight and I used to get my butt tanned any time I even looked like I was going to say the F word back home.”
He was quiet for a second, considering this. "Maya," he said quietly, "you don't even understand how shit it was." He sounded more grave than he intended, but it was part of an effort not to sound condescending. "And I couldn't even begin to explain it. I'm still — I don't even know how."
“Then don’t.”
Maya’s words were calm if a little edged with the sharpness of things she had no interest in talking about herself. She wasn’t sure if Matt had put what she’d done in the reports and she had absolutely no interest in hashing that sort of thing out. Not even if she was aware Gabriel was the last man who’d judge her for it.
“You and the others, I saw how you came in. I don’t need you to give me a rundown of the trauma. Sometimes it’s okay to just say things were fucked up and leave the rest for our therapists, yeah?”
She wasn’t looking to dismiss him, or what he’d been through. She just didn’t want to make him relive any of that for her, or with her. This visit wasn’t about catharsis. It was just about, not wanting him to be alone, or for her to be.
She wasn’t sure how to say that.
"I'm not going to give you a run-down of the trauma," Gabriel said, "because I can't. That's all I mean." He didn't know how better to explain this to her: that what had happened was beyond vocalizing, and that was the thing that he was grappling with. Not that he could really articulate that.
"It doesn't matter," he said, suddenly sounding weary again. He reached over and tore off another piece of the frybread. It went down easier this time. "This really is good."
"My Grandmother's recipe," Maya noted with a smile, thoughts of her Grandmother always did make her feel better. "She wanted to make sure I could take care of me, and part of that was knowing how to cook. I think she was hoping I'd marry a nice guy and settle down without all the nonsense my Dad got into with being a mercenary and everything. Not sure she'd be thrilled with what I've ended up doing. Anyway, um, I can go if you'd rather do whatever but I was figuring maybe we could watch a movie or something?"
"Oh. Uh..." Gabriel scratched the back of his neck. It was the least involved activity she could have possibly suggested, but the idea of having company for that long made Gabriel feel tense. "Maybe another time?" He winced apologetically as he said it. "I just — I'm still kind of beat, and I think maybe a nap is in order."
"Loud and clear."
Maya shrugged and took the soda she'd been drinking and headed to the door. She wasn't offended by his need, especially since she totally got it, and frankly had just wanted to make sure he wasn't sobbing on the floor of his bathroom. Admittedly, had he been sobbing on the floor of his bathroom, she'd have had to call Kevin, or Jean or someone else who knew how to talk to sobbing people but it was the thought that counted. She'd have sat with him anyway, even if she wouldn't have known what the hell to say.
"Don't think you're getting out of joining me for a movie marathon in October though. The spooky season may be white girl pumpkin spice paradise but I like it for the gory horror movie marathons."
"Sure." Gabriel gave her a small smile. He could handle slasher films and monster flicks and jump scares. Things were less scary when you could name them. "I'll take that deal."
Maya checks up on Gabe after the events of Son's of Mutancy
Maya had managed a shower, and an injection for the migraine she’d gotten last night when they got back from the mission but even though she'd collapsed onto Topaz's couch after being stuffed full of food by Terry and Darcy, she'd woken up the next morning starving once again and in need of some home comforts.
She’d thought of Gabe as she was making the fry bread to take care of that little oversight, and while she knew he had a whole host of people who would probably look after him, she couldn’t think of many he’d actually accept that help from. At least not unless they were completely obnoxious about it.
She happened to have the ability to be pushy when it was needed.
She pulled out another plate from the cupboard above her and plated the extra fry bread she’d been making. She also grabbed a couple of condiments in their little carry box since some people liked to add stuff.
She’d already left extra on the counter for Nica and sent her friend a text to come get.
At Gabriel's door came a knock, and from Gabriel's couch came a small, weary sigh. He suspected someone would swing by at some point, but with Jean and Kyle in such bad shape, he thought he'd have more time to lie low and deal with, well, everything.
He winced a bit as he stood. More than anything, he was tired. His body, his mind; everything was exhausted. The brief stay in medlab had helped, but using his powers in a hell dimension had taxed him, and that had been the least of it. So he strode slowly to the door, preparing to cut short whatever conversation greeted him on the other side of it.
Gabriel didn't bother to smile as he opened it, though to his credit when he saw Maya, he didn't frown either. "Hey," he said rather evenly, the weariness clear on his face. "What's up?"
"Brought you some frybread," Maya replied, holding it out as an offering to the friendship Gods. She was aware that she was nobody's favorite person to see first thing in the morning, especially not after what had happened. "Thought you might need some food that doesn't come with people tiptoeing around you like you're about to explode in emotions."
Gabriel couldn’t help but give her a small smile. “You’d think I’d be used to it. Come on in.” He wasn’t sure whether he was hungry or not, but he appreciated the gesture. He took the plate from her, and without much fanfare, he strode back to the couch, feeling every step. “There’s drinks in the fridge if you want. Sodas, seltzer, whatever. Help yourself.”
“We’re surrounded by helpers.”
She left the statement there as if it explained just about everything that happened in the mansion and surroundings. Maya headed for the fridge and pulled out a soda, before pulling a bottle opener from a nearby drawer and opening it.
“You got the good stuff.”
Gabriel shrugged as he dropped the food on his coffee table and flopped onto the sofa cushions. "I try to keep it well-stocked," he said. It was true: ever since M-Day, he'd learned the benefits of preparing for stretches during which, for whatever reason, he couldn't deal with a trip to the mansion's kitchen. "Old bartending habit, I guess."
Not wanting to be rude, he ripped off a piece of the frybread and popped it into his mouth. It felt thick and heavy as he chewed and swallowed, but he knew that had more to do with his apparent lack of appetite than anything else. "Delicious," he said because he sensed that it was and because that's what you did.
“Don’t look now but I think your agent just called to give you the Razzie for world's worst liar.”
Maya’s tone was mild, she’d brought the frybread as a gesture but hadn’t expected too much from it. Nobody ever tasted much when they were distressed, no matter what it was from.
“I mostly just wanted to check in and make sure you had everything you needed. I mean, I’m happy to hang out and entertain you but I figured you’d sooner drown yourself in the toilet than play bar trivia with me.”
Gabriel shrugged. "Yeah. I dunno. I'm just..." He looked at his hands, unsure exactly what to say. He was not going to tell her everything; even if he wanted to, it was all too fresh, and he wasn't even sure how he'd say it.
"I'm tired," he finally said, because it was more or less true. "I mean, it was intense. You know that. And I just — well, demon dimensions really fuck with me and my powers. And... everything's just..." He shrugged again.
“All gone to shit?”
Maya walked across and sat down on the other sofa, taking a swig of her drink before she placed the bottle on the coffee table beside the fry bread.
“Fucked up beyond all recognition? I think I started inventing swear words during that last fight and I used to get my butt tanned any time I even looked like I was going to say the F word back home.”
He was quiet for a second, considering this. "Maya," he said quietly, "you don't even understand how shit it was." He sounded more grave than he intended, but it was part of an effort not to sound condescending. "And I couldn't even begin to explain it. I'm still — I don't even know how."
“Then don’t.”
Maya’s words were calm if a little edged with the sharpness of things she had no interest in talking about herself. She wasn’t sure if Matt had put what she’d done in the reports and she had absolutely no interest in hashing that sort of thing out. Not even if she was aware Gabriel was the last man who’d judge her for it.
“You and the others, I saw how you came in. I don’t need you to give me a rundown of the trauma. Sometimes it’s okay to just say things were fucked up and leave the rest for our therapists, yeah?”
She wasn’t looking to dismiss him, or what he’d been through. She just didn’t want to make him relive any of that for her, or with her. This visit wasn’t about catharsis. It was just about, not wanting him to be alone, or for her to be.
She wasn’t sure how to say that.
"I'm not going to give you a run-down of the trauma," Gabriel said, "because I can't. That's all I mean." He didn't know how better to explain this to her: that what had happened was beyond vocalizing, and that was the thing that he was grappling with. Not that he could really articulate that.
"It doesn't matter," he said, suddenly sounding weary again. He reached over and tore off another piece of the frybread. It went down easier this time. "This really is good."
"My Grandmother's recipe," Maya noted with a smile, thoughts of her Grandmother always did make her feel better. "She wanted to make sure I could take care of me, and part of that was knowing how to cook. I think she was hoping I'd marry a nice guy and settle down without all the nonsense my Dad got into with being a mercenary and everything. Not sure she'd be thrilled with what I've ended up doing. Anyway, um, I can go if you'd rather do whatever but I was figuring maybe we could watch a movie or something?"
"Oh. Uh..." Gabriel scratched the back of his neck. It was the least involved activity she could have possibly suggested, but the idea of having company for that long made Gabriel feel tense. "Maybe another time?" He winced apologetically as he said it. "I just — I'm still kind of beat, and I think maybe a nap is in order."
"Loud and clear."
Maya shrugged and took the soda she'd been drinking and headed to the door. She wasn't offended by his need, especially since she totally got it, and frankly had just wanted to make sure he wasn't sobbing on the floor of his bathroom. Admittedly, had he been sobbing on the floor of his bathroom, she'd have had to call Kevin, or Jean or someone else who knew how to talk to sobbing people but it was the thought that counted. She'd have sat with him anyway, even if she wouldn't have known what the hell to say.
"Don't think you're getting out of joining me for a movie marathon in October though. The spooky season may be white girl pumpkin spice paradise but I like it for the gory horror movie marathons."
"Sure." Gabriel gave her a small smile. He could handle slasher films and monster flicks and jump scares. Things were less scary when you could name them. "I'll take that deal."
