1964-08-31 - House call
Summary: Jean comes and visits Warren at home
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
jean-grey warren 

After the 'drama' of Jean's last visit, Warren isn't exactly thrilled to get the notification that she is on her way up to his penthouse again. Tossing her off the balcony and almost causing her to go splat on the sidewalk wasn't his best decision. Her jumping off the second time didn't help matters. Still, it's not like she is going to do it again, or if she does she seems to have at least some ability to prevent her from plummeting down to her death.

So, in preparation for her visit Warren is making coffee. The percolator is doing its thing while Warren sits on the couch in the sunken living room, waiting for her to arrive. He is dressed casually in jeans and a button down shirt, his blue and barefoot feet hanging out the end of the jeans.

For what it's worth, Jean now has the capabilities to practice all on her own, and at least not to scare the living shit out of anyone when she does it. It was leaps and bounds from the night before, but thankfully no one can see the bruises that she acclimated during her flights of fancy.

So, jeans and T-shirt it is! Sandals were even upon her feet instead of regular shoes, the manner of dress of someone who isn't intent on doing anything major but just to lounge around and soak up the relaxation.

She knocks upon the door first, then pushes it open, entering in with a smile that soon fades into a look of confusion. What.. in the world.. that feeling that came from him? She felt it. Troubles of being an empath.

"What's wrong?"

Turning his head to look at her with a raised eyebrow, "What's wrong?" he asks, incredulously. "Really?"

Warren rises from the couch, and moves to head towards the coffee pot, grabbing a pair of mugs and filling each. "Nothing, I guess. Everything worked out as 'planned', so I guess I shouldn't feel upset at all, but…damnit, Jean…do you have any idea how much you freaked me out? What would have happened had you not been able to catch yourself? I wasn't prepared, I don't know if I would have been able to catch you in time…you could have died."

He offers the mug of coffee over to Jean and makes a motion towards the couch. "I've got enough going on in my head without having to add guilt of your death to it all. Yeah, I know…it didn't happen. I should just get over it."

Jean's eyebrows shoot high to the sky as she watches him, her lips curling in for that moment, stepping further into the apartment to close the door behind her with a quick pace nearer, but not close. Even though the coffee seemed enticing, she didn't feel like drinking it, not yet. There was just a little bit too much emotion in the air for her to even enjoy the cup.

Annnd.. awkward as it was, she just listens, her head nodding slowly.. reflecting on the words that she could have used in this moment. But.. she doesn't. "I.. am sorry." She states. "Most of my decisions aren't.. really sound? If that makes sense. But there usually is an end result, a payoff. But, I promise, nothing like that will happen again, okay?"

Warren doesn't know what he actually expected from Jean, but by the look of surprise on his face when she apologies, it certainly wasn't that. The utterance of the apology saps the anger form him like a vacuum to dirt, the tension that was there dissipating like smoke in wind.

After a minute of standing there like an idiot with coffee outstretched to Jean without her taking it, he gathers his wits enough to withdraw his arm and move towards the couch, setting the mug on a coaster as he lifts his to hip lips. "It's…you're forgiven. It just threw me, Jean. I forget that, well, sometimes things are just different for you. But…don't make promises you can't keep either. We will just both have to try to understand each other better. Hell, i've got my own issues going on so who am I to casts stones, right?"

She meant it, the apology, that was. In all seriousness, she never thought he'd actually chuck her from the roof, but in hindsight, it was pretty hilarious. Maybe she'll laugh about it with him next year. Not now.

Still, she didn't take the coffee, and nearly felt horrible for not reaching out for it, but once he returns to the couch, she follows suit with a slight bounce, one leg tucked under the other as she settles down, facing him directly.

"It doesn't excuse it though. It was really insensitive." She admits. "But it's a promise I know I can keep. Besides, you only see me in a social capacity, not in any.. action-y or live savey type thingy, right?" She dips her head to try to catch his eyes. "I swear. No more weird stuff. Piggy-back rides only. Deal?" And with that said, she stretches her hand out for a shake. "Issues are what make us interesting. Do you want to talk about them?"

Warren settles into the couch, curling up his legs and feet underneath him as he leans against the back of the couch. He takes another sip of his coffee and then cradles it into his hands as he speaks. "Maybe. Maybe I should, or at the very least maybe you should poke around in here to make sure I am all me. I heard Lorna had a hitchhiker when she came back."

"Yeah, we only see each other socially now a days. But I seem to be spending more and more time at the institute, so I don't have any illusions that I am not going to get involved in some of the more 'extra curricular' activities that the school provides. Hell, they turned me into a weapon, I might as well use what they did to me against them, right? Otherwise what is the point."

He lifts his eyes to look at Jean, then down at her hand then back up. "Handshakes? Really? Handshakes are for people that don't really know each other. How long have we known each other, Jean? I think we have moved past handshakes…you'll get a hug when we are both vertical again."

"I know who you are, if you weren't who you were when you came to us, we would have known." Though, that does shake her just a touch. She's heard about the incident, and her 'adoptive' brother handled it well.

She leans her head upon her knuckles as she watches him, her brows furrowing just a touch. Maybe now he felt like more in tune with them? Or could it be that he really couldn't go anywhere else? She wouldn't ask.

"How far are you willing to go to use what they gave you, is the question here." She was prodding, just a touch, wanting to hear his insight. "And hugs. Definitely hugs. You were there when I.. was finally released from the mental institution. So hugs. And maybe a pat on the back."

"If this is me, then I'm even more scared. I don't recall ever being so…" 'Bloodthirsty' He doesn't say the word, not right away but it is the first thing that pops into his head. He pauses for a moment and just shakes his head without ever saying it out-loud. "…I don't recall ever being so angry all the time. If you are telling me that this is all me in here I really don't know what to say."

He sets his coffee cup down onto the table, adjusting his position to wrap his arms around his legs, hugging his knees into his chest. "Far enough. I haven't told anyone but Kaleb this, but I know I've killed people already. I remember vividly when I escaped from the facility they had me in. I don't know how many in total, I lost count when I hit two dozen. The fact that I don't feel the slightest bit upset about the fact that I killed them or that part of me /liked/ it doing it terrifies me. I've been half tempted to have you or Charles just go in and rip that part out…to at least make me feel bad about it, make me feel more…human. I was more upset at the possibility that I could have hurt you, that knowing I have murdered over two dozen people. Kaleb says they deserved it, that I was only doing what I needed to in order to escape, but…I don't think that is true."

'Bloodthirsty'. Surface thoughts be damned, but Jean didn't let him know that she heard what he thought. Sadly enough, she could relate, but hers was of a different nature. IT was her, not-her, that was the blood thirsty one. The all domineering.. all conquering..

But she does nothing but listen. She even scoots a little closer as he confesses, her head bobbing ever so slightly as she thinks of the better ways to console.

"There are times when I wish that I could forget the things that we've done. But our past counts. To erase and change it.." She shakes her head. She's done it before.. and she was reckless. "It's dangerous. We may know how -our- brains work, and pretend to know how yours does.. but.. it's all a mess." She reaches out to lightly touch his shoulder, then draws away.

"I can't tell you how to feel, I can't even willingly condone it. I can, say with absolute certainty, that I am glad you are alive. And just, here."

"It would make it easier, wouldn't it? To just be able to turn it off like a light switch. To not remember any of the bad shit that has gone on with our lives?" Warren says, reaching up to touch Jean's hand briefly before she pulls it away.

He lets a little chuckle that has no real mirth behind it escape from his lips. "Yeah, well, I'm glad I am alive too. It beats the alternative, thats for sure."

He takes a deep breath, "Being home is…better. Familiar. It helps. I know you didn't specifically mean 'here' as my where we are, but it helps. I'm glad I am here too. At least here I have people I can lean on when it gets to bad."

"Yeah.." Jean says quietly, her own gaze falling away as she begins to pick a little at the sofa. Maybe there was a thread there, but her face falls into something akin to sadness as her eyes focus upon the floor. "..I wish for a lot of things."

Still, that sadness doesn't go away, not right out. But she looks towards him again, this time a clear and upfront stare as if she were searching for something to break free or bust out from his ears.

"Better. But it doesn't fit. Because you're still angry, yes? And the people surrounding it gives you a reason to -not- feel that anger yet, deep down, you still do. Don't you?"

Now it is Warren's turn to reach out a hand to be comforting. He places a hand on Jean's shoulder to give it a squeeze. "Look at me, I'm such an idiot. I've lived such a privileged life compared to you, and here I am nattering on like a weepy child about how unfair things are." He shakes his head and sighs, "If anyone deserves a do over it would be you, Red."

As Jean lifts her head to stare at him, he will meet her gaze. His one blue-irised eyes now a solid yellow with a slight glow. "Of course I am still angry. I've had part of me removed. I've had my life fundamentally altered in ways that I may not ever fully understand the ramifications of. People help, the people I care about, help bury it down enough so that I can ignore it when they are around, but when I am alone with my thoughts? When I am asleep?" He pauses, lowering his eyes again, "It manifests and comes back with a vengeance. I have nightmares, and I wake up with my bed slashed to ribbons. It's always there."

Jean shakes her head ever so slightly. "It doesn't matter how you grew up, really." She states. "I could say I had a charmed life too, but tragedy happens to everyone, its something we can't avoid. Something that sometimes makes us better or worse. It shapes us, you know?" Her voice shook just a touch, but she clears her throat, only to listen to the rest of his words.

"There may be a way for me to at least help with the nightmares for a time. I could stay with you while you slept, peek into your mind and try to implant happy things without changing the rest." She thinks on this now, a plan of action in mind. "If.. you're okay with that."

"No, I know how I grew up doesn't alleviate me from the tragedies of life. You're right of course." he says as he drapes his hand from her shoulder.

"But I feel stupid sitting here wallowing in self pity when there are people down there that are in far greater need than I am. The residents of Mutant Town for instance." He sighs, "My life and personal issues are insignificant to the greater picture, but here I am shining the spotlight on me. Can I be any more selfish?"

He looks back to Jean, his yellow orbs finding hers as he thinks. "After a moment, he nods. "I'm fine with it. It's worth a shot, in any case. Xi was offering something of the same…a way to just turn off the dreams or something, but as strange as this may sounds I trust you poking around in my head more than her. Maybe because I know whatever you find in there, it's less likely to shock you than her."

Jean reaches over to grasp his hand briefly, but after a second, her touch was gone. "They're not insignificant. I'll say this time and time and again, you have to be important to yourself. You have to care for yourself before you're ready and able to take on anyone elses problems.."

Pot, meet kettle. She never takes her own advice.

"Xi is a sweet one. She's quite possibly better than I. More controlled and reserved. But, I'm not angling to turn them off, I'm just wanting to make them better." She shrugs. "It's settled then, I'm going to go back to the mansion to get some clothes. It'll be a total girl sleepover. I'll do your hair, you do mine, we can talk about boys.." She teases, rising from her seat. "I'll see you around.. 8?"

Warren nods, "8 it is, then. That gives me enough time to run out to grab some pajamas. Most the ones I own have already been torn to shreds, so I had just given up on wearing any." There is no hint of humor or flirtatious intent with the statement. It is just uttered as a mater of fact statement. He smiles then, "Thank you."

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