Log [Cain, Alison] Talk to me...

[x-dazzler.livejournal.com]

Set Thursday afternoon. Alison decides to ambush talk to Cain to know why he's been avoiding her for the last while, which, as it turns out was not at all a figment of her imagination.



Cain growled to himself, pushing himself off the edge of the bed and onto the walker they'd rigged up for him. Still having almost no discernible strength on his left side, he could lean against it and slowly shuffle about the house, or at least to the bathroom and back. Thankfully, he'd been able to manage that by himself for a while now. Didn't want to think about who'd been taking care of that for him while he'd been out.

Grunting with the effort, he tossed his head to clear his hair from his eyes. The refrigerator was recently stocked, he remembered. Ororo had come by with vegetables, and had made him some kind of weird salad that wasn't half bad. For salad. And this morning he'd woken up with a bit of a craving, so the salad it was. After a few arduous minutes, Cain managed to maneuver the walker around the corner and into the kitchen.

She'd heard him move about for a while now, the muttered imprecations every now and then indicating his progress as he headed for the kitchen. The muffins she'd brought down had been set on the kitchen table and it was probably mean of her to be leaning in the doorway just out of sight of anyone walking in, but Alison figured that at least this way, he wouldn't be able to try and find an excuse to retreat. And her blocking the way out of the kitchen was a start, at least. "Morning," she chirped brightly, ready to duck the walker if need be. "Brought you muffins for breakfast!"

"Sunnuvabitch!" Cain exclaimed, rearing backwards. The result ended up being that he collapsed to his left side, right into the kitchen wall, crumpling down onto his knees. Flailing momentarily, he managed to grab the edge of the counter with his right hand and pull himself up to a mostly-kneeling position. He glanced over at the muffins, then glared pointedly at Alison. "Didn' see y'r name on th' list f'r breakfast. Been help'n' m'self lately."

She was horribly, terribly mean. Her eyes narrowed just a bit though her smile didn't waver in the least. "Yeeaaah. My name's been taken off all the lists lately?" Her smile faded, and she sighed a little. "Because, you know, I've been telling myself it was my imagination for a while only I can't even manage that anymore and are you avoiding me?" She wasn't letting herself think it might be because she'd, well, cause the whole blowing up thing. He would have told her if he wanted room because of that. And he hadn't. So it had to be something else...

"'s f'r y'r own good," Cain mumbled, trying to use the corner as leverage to push his upper body onto the counter and then lean in a semblance of a standing position. Pulling his mostly-slack left arm across his chest, he folded his arms and looked over at Alison. "Las' time, nearly kill'd y'. Fig'r'd y'ought t' be where's safe. An' that ain't 'round me."

He reached down, trying to fumble with the wrapper to the muffin package with one hand. Frowning, he fidgeted briefly, then sighed and pushed it across the counter to Alison. "Open?"

"For my own good?" Alison stared at him blankly, entirely taken aback. "Nearly killed me?" She reached for the package and absently lasered a dent in the corner before neatly peeling it open, still looking at him with a confused expression. 'Are you on crack?' would probably not go over well, as tempting as it was to ask him that. "Here. Wait." She automatically moved to get him a plate, placing three of the muffins there - each of a different kind, the moved it towards him. "Could you please explain for me? I don't understand. I really don't like not understanding." A napkin joined the plate, neatly folded into a triangle.

Cain cocked his head at Alison, as if he was talking to someone who wasn't even there. "Nate showed me, in m' head. Ev'r'thing that happ'n'd. Pull'n' shrapn'l outta y', droppin' ceilin' in on y'. Call it... acc'dent," he shrugged, "fact r'mains, y' got hurt 'cuz o' me. Figg'red y' wouldn' want t' be 'round much after."

"If we're going to go on about taking blame," she answered, deciding that she wanted a muffin too while they were at that, "then I'd be the one with the biggest share. You know, you offering to help, me blowing the crystal up in the first place." Alison paused, taking a short breath as she place a chocolate ship muffin in her own plate. "Me walking away without a scratch. And you not." She didn't mention the healing just yet, instead looking at him slowly, wondering exactly how much Nathan had shown him. He couldn't possibly have known... hadn't even been there when she'd seen...

Cain nodded. He'd noticed Alison had been mobile, walking around seemingly unscathed. Heck, by all reports on the journals - better than before. The excuse wasn't going to cut it, he realized. "You saw," he said, refusing to meet her eyes. "Weren't s'pos'd t' see."

So that was what this was about. Resting both hands on either side of her place, Alison nodded slowly, even though he wasn't looking at her. "Yes. I did." So he had forgotten, originally - it explained why he'd been apparently fine with seeing her in the early stages of his convalescence. She shivered a bit, remembering the images which had unfurled around her - the rage as the shards of crystal had burrowed under her skin. "Felt it, too," she added faintly. "How..." She was unable to finish the sentence, still not understanding how Cain had managed to hold all of that within, and still keep his sanity. Be who he was.

How could you have done it?, Cain assumed the unsaid question. He hung his head, expecting the inevitable scorn and condemnation. "Y' don' unnnerstan'," he tried to explain. "Was angry. 'fraid. Jus' looked f'r a way out. Didn' 'spect t' live 'nother hour, much less... forty years. Now..." he clenched his right hand, watching forlornly as the left tried weakly to mimic the motion, "fin'ly payin'... price. 's right, if y' think 'bout it."

"No!" Alison was shaking her head emphatically, even as she scrambled to get around the counter, the word of denial louder than she'd intended it to be. "That's not what I meant!" Reaching out, she cradled his hand in her own, not even knowing where to start or how to ask. "When the gem exploded, the shards..." She looked down at her hands for a moment, at a loss. "How did you do it? All of these years, so much anger? It was just minutes for me but it felt like forever and I was drowning in it and it never ended." She looked up at him once more, a slightly incredulous tinge to her voice. "I don't know how anyone could do that for as long as you did and... still be the person you are today."

"Be what?" Cain snapped at her, yanking his hand back. "Ol' bastard what hates evr'yone? Goin' ev'ry day one day at 'time, tryin' not t' just smash ev'rythin' into dust? Y' talk like I'm some saint, Al'son. I ain't. Not ev'n close."

"How about not insane! How about someone who isn't giving in to that urge to just break everything and everyone in sight just because you can and wouldn't it feel good to just listen to all the rage and do it and not ever hold back! How about being someone who can cares enough to promise a seven year old who was scared to lose everything that you'd protect his family and the people he loves because he needed you to promise that!' Alison stopped, catching her breath for a moment. "I'm not saying you're a saint. Neither of us is," she laughed, a bit helplessly at that. "But you held... that thing in, all of these years, and it takes a hell of a person to do that and still be themselves through all of that."

"Be th'mself?" Cain barked a laugh and leaned hard against the counter. "Lookit me, Al'son. Can' hardly move. Soun' like a damn drunk when talk. Weak 's a kitt'n. Ain't doin' real good at bein' m'self right now." He sighed deeply. "Y'ever wonder why.. I mov'd out of the house, out here? Y'had y'r share o' monsters there. But y' treat 'm like fam'ly. Me? Only fam'ly I got left, can't stand. Ev'n b'fore th'... b'fore. Came home t'be 'lone, an' ain't never 'lone. Not in m'head." Cain ran his hand through the thick mess of red curls that his hair had become, grown out shaggy and uncut. "An' now? 's empty. Feel small. Ev'rythin' echoes, an' ain't s'posed to. 's missing."

He took a deep breath and looked up at Alison. "Y'didn't feel... ev'rythin'. Wasn' spendin' all that time holdin' it in. Was like... part o' me that'd been missin'. Ev'rythin' that I really was. Who 'm s'pos'd t' be."

"Who you are... is up to you." Alison pushed herself up, sitting on the counter next to him, before firmly claiming a hand to hold again, absently comparing sizes - hers still smaller by a fair measure. "Always is, every step of the way. You make your family - you chose the people you keep close to your heart." If that didn't hold true, then Alison had serious problems going on there, at the very least. "And you decide who you want to be." What people easily dismissed as trite still held true in the most basic of ways.

"I can't compare, you know." She lifted a hand up, looking at it - the memory of what it had felt like as the shards embedded in her skin worked to heal her, to stay within somehow. "It wasn't for long. But... nothing hurt, when the pieces of crystal were in my skin. Even when Nathan yanked them out, it didn't hurt. And... something kept telling me that if I just let it stay then nothing would ever hurt again." Her gaze grew distant, the whispered promises and the unending fury reminding her of how very helpless she'd felt. "You didn't let it go."

"Jus' don' wan' to be weak ag'n." Cain slapped his slack left arm on the countertop repeatedly, in a gesture that would have been fist-pounding frustration if he'd had the strength for it. "'s like I tol' Nate - takes... gett'n used to. But hey," he shrugged and tried to smile. "Y'r better, Nate's bett'r - strong'r than ev'r, he says. 'f I stay like this- fair trade."

That was up for discussion, as far as Alison was concerned - but she wasn't about to throw his words back into his face. Not in a million years. She smiled back at him instead, heels hitting the side of the counter lightly as she swung her legs a bit. "He is. And I am too. Better than ever, too, all of the old twinges and aches gone." She lifted one arm, the scar barely showing. "Scars are still there. But there isn't even any pull to them - it's like I've had them forever and everything is healed underneath." She gave him a sideways look. "But you're improving. I've been keeping track - you won't stay like this forever. And... will you let me help?"

"Like I c'n stop y'?" Cain said with a small smile. He rubbed a hand against his chest, feeling the raised scar under his shirt. "Gettin' used to... twinges 'n' aches 'gain. Feelin' m' age, I s'pose."

"Unstoppable force of nature. That's me. And well," she smiled back, giving the still untouched muffins a sidelong look. "There's a few perks too, wouldn't you say?" That he wouldn't have to stand by and watch all of those around him grow old and die, over and over again... "Want some hot chocolate to go with those? With the little marshmallows of-" She paused, then shook her head, still a bit amazed at times at how some things were starting to become a reflex.

"Yes pl'se." Cain mumbled, reaching over to palm a muffin. "So," he spoke carefully between bites, smiling over at Alison, "still datin' th' Angry Arab, huh?"

The Angry Arab. Alison gave him a mildly reproachful look but nodded calmly, hopping off the counter to start forage for what she'd need to make the hot chocolate. The mini-marshmallows were surprisingly easy to find, she noticed with amusement. "Yes, I am." Milk joined the hot chocolate mix, as she wasn't about to dare the kind of hot chocolate the better cooks at the mansion made, just yet.

"Howzat work'n' out?" Cain asked, with an attempt at a suggestive eyebrow raise, which ended up looking unintentionally like a facial spasm. "Got t' say, he's... good guy. R'spons'ble. Should do good by y'."

"Slowly but surely?" she replied, hoping she sounded right about that while listening to the sound of the milk as she poured it in a cooking pot while looking at Cain. The slowly was driving her nuts. But they were getting to know each other more, bit by bit. That was important as well. "He's taking Miles out to the movies next week." She'd already been petrified about having another relationship before, specifically about messing up again - having a son added a new dynamic to things and a somewhat uncompromising one at that.

"Good, good..." Cain drawled, scarfing down another muffin. "Ain' been keep'n' up with much gossip - folks don' talk much here an' Remy ain' 'xactly in th' loop. Ain' heard nothin' blowin' up, tho'. 's a record, I think."

The pot wasn't quite full and Alison tilted the carton, checking on the amount of milk briefly as an afterthought, before turning on the stove. No bubbling over - she was, thankfully, past those incidents. And Cain was down to one muffin already. Lips quirking, she left the milk to itself and liberated a few more muffins from the package for him, settling them on the plate so that the solitary muffin now left woudn't be so alone. "Well, nothing's blown up at the mansion lately, no. You know, I could write up the daily gossip newsletter for you and mail you that each evening." She winked. "Be like having your very own soap. Beat any of what Remy watches, I bet you." Now that still amused her to no end.

"Least it'd be in En'lish," Cain groused. "Cajun watches weird stuff." He braced himself on the counter for a moment, then gingerly shuffled over next to Alison, by the stove. With careful slowness, he reached up and gently patted her shoulder. "Thanks. Not f'r muffins... f'r, y'know. Thanks."

The milk, Alison decided, could tend to itself for a minute or so. And with Cain so obligingly close, it really wasn't hard to just move that much closer and hug him for all she was worth. As actions went, she figured this one would speak more clearly than words.

The sound of flames outside, the leaves of a tree going up in wispsof fire echoing merrily as well somewhat ruined the moment.

"Boom today. Always boom today," Alison muttered, starting to laugh quietly.