Dixie Dead Shake - The Morning After
Sep. 6th, 2024 03:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsThe next day, they learn some additional repercussions to their adventure.
The early rays of sun peeked through what was left of the room's curtains, casting cuts of shadow against the room. On the mantle, a clock marked time. Otherwise, it was perfectly quiet.
It was odd for Kane to wake up from a deep sleep. Before he lost his powers, he slept only a couple of hours a night. When they were gone, he'd sleep ten-twelve hours and wake up exhausted. With everything that happened, he'd actually slept for several hours, deep and dreamless. Jean wasn't next to him, and he rolled over to check the time. It was still earlyish. Plenty of time before checkout. He swung his legs off the bed and stepped out from the bedroom into the sitting room. He could see her on the couch, red hair spilling down her nude back.
"Jean?"
She sat in front of a small vase, tiny enough to only hold one or two flowers. It was the only thing on the coffee table. When he said her name, she had her hand raised toward the vase, but upon hearing it, dropped her hand, her shoulders slumping.
"I can't hear you."
"Oh? I must have... never mind. You ok?" He stepped around, joining her on the couch.
Jean glanced down, biting her lip before shaking her head.
"I--I can't hear you up here," she said, tapping her temple as strands of red hair fell in front of her eyes.
"And I've been trying to get this vase to move for the last two hours."
She let out a breath.
"Nothing."
"Ah. Both your telepathy and your telekinesis...? You were fine a few hours ago." Kane said softly.
Jean rubbed her forehead. "A fact I am firmly aware of by the sight of you talking to me and our trashed hotel room," she said, with a note of irritation and rising panic, not toward him specifically but the situation.
Her knee bounced up and down as she messed with the edge of one of the couch pillows, tracing her hand along the edge.
"It's so quiet. I don't--remember how long it's been since it's been this quiet."
"So, is this one of those situations you just want emotional support while you spill to me or my opinion on what might be happening. Happy to do either. Or both. Or neither, but I'm not setup for a distracting puppet show, which is my only fallback."
Jean let out a small laugh, then dropped her head back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling.
"Did the alternate version of me have this problem too? Here I thought I was unique," she mumbled with a faint smile.
"This kind of burn-out happened quite a few times in the old days." Kane said. "People pushing their powers to the limit and beyond. Eventually, something just goes too far for awhile and it shorts things out for a few days or weeks. There was one... she went up against a hurricane using her powers. Took her the better part of a year to come back, but they always came back."
He took a deep breath and let it out. "Now, I imagine your situation isn't as severe. Maybe it's a chance to take a bit of a break? Focus on Doc and Jean Grey for a bit instead of Phoenix until your powers come back?"
"But what if they need me? The X-Men? Not...as a doctor, but my powers? I--what if someone dies because I'm not there?"
She looked down. "I guess that's ignoring all the other X-Men that are around. I just...It feels weird to not be able to help like that."
"Trust me, I get it." Kane said, snaking an arm across her bare shoulders and pulling her closer. "But you can't control that. All you can control is helping in the way available for now."
Jean rested her head against Garrison's chest. "With bandaids and aspirin?" she mused, then closed her eyes.
"I can try to handle that."
What else could she do?
"Really? One of the best psychics in the mansion, personally trained by Charles Xavier? Also a brilliant doctor and a long tenured X-Man? I bet there's a hundred ways you can help - training, consulting, even help me with the DR for all the psionic scenarios. I'd have more ideas but we're also both very naked right now and my attention? It wanders." He said, only part kidding at the end.
The early rays of sun peeked through what was left of the room's curtains, casting cuts of shadow against the room. On the mantle, a clock marked time. Otherwise, it was perfectly quiet.
It was odd for Kane to wake up from a deep sleep. Before he lost his powers, he slept only a couple of hours a night. When they were gone, he'd sleep ten-twelve hours and wake up exhausted. With everything that happened, he'd actually slept for several hours, deep and dreamless. Jean wasn't next to him, and he rolled over to check the time. It was still earlyish. Plenty of time before checkout. He swung his legs off the bed and stepped out from the bedroom into the sitting room. He could see her on the couch, red hair spilling down her nude back.
"Jean?"
She sat in front of a small vase, tiny enough to only hold one or two flowers. It was the only thing on the coffee table. When he said her name, she had her hand raised toward the vase, but upon hearing it, dropped her hand, her shoulders slumping.
"I can't hear you."
"Oh? I must have... never mind. You ok?" He stepped around, joining her on the couch.
Jean glanced down, biting her lip before shaking her head.
"I--I can't hear you up here," she said, tapping her temple as strands of red hair fell in front of her eyes.
"And I've been trying to get this vase to move for the last two hours."
She let out a breath.
"Nothing."
"Ah. Both your telepathy and your telekinesis...? You were fine a few hours ago." Kane said softly.
Jean rubbed her forehead. "A fact I am firmly aware of by the sight of you talking to me and our trashed hotel room," she said, with a note of irritation and rising panic, not toward him specifically but the situation.
Her knee bounced up and down as she messed with the edge of one of the couch pillows, tracing her hand along the edge.
"It's so quiet. I don't--remember how long it's been since it's been this quiet."
"So, is this one of those situations you just want emotional support while you spill to me or my opinion on what might be happening. Happy to do either. Or both. Or neither, but I'm not setup for a distracting puppet show, which is my only fallback."
Jean let out a small laugh, then dropped her head back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling.
"Did the alternate version of me have this problem too? Here I thought I was unique," she mumbled with a faint smile.
"This kind of burn-out happened quite a few times in the old days." Kane said. "People pushing their powers to the limit and beyond. Eventually, something just goes too far for awhile and it shorts things out for a few days or weeks. There was one... she went up against a hurricane using her powers. Took her the better part of a year to come back, but they always came back."
He took a deep breath and let it out. "Now, I imagine your situation isn't as severe. Maybe it's a chance to take a bit of a break? Focus on Doc and Jean Grey for a bit instead of Phoenix until your powers come back?"
"But what if they need me? The X-Men? Not...as a doctor, but my powers? I--what if someone dies because I'm not there?"
She looked down. "I guess that's ignoring all the other X-Men that are around. I just...It feels weird to not be able to help like that."
"Trust me, I get it." Kane said, snaking an arm across her bare shoulders and pulling her closer. "But you can't control that. All you can control is helping in the way available for now."
Jean rested her head against Garrison's chest. "With bandaids and aspirin?" she mused, then closed her eyes.
"I can try to handle that."
What else could she do?
"Really? One of the best psychics in the mansion, personally trained by Charles Xavier? Also a brilliant doctor and a long tenured X-Man? I bet there's a hundred ways you can help - training, consulting, even help me with the DR for all the psionic scenarios. I'd have more ideas but we're also both very naked right now and my attention? It wanders." He said, only part kidding at the end.
