( it's been a weird week -- which was preceded by another weird one, and all in all she's starting to get the impression that it's just going to be weird weeks from here on out, honestly. but she's made promises about being careful in the wake of the mess that meeting, so laura's reaction to it all is very, very measured.
she retreats to the down, stays away from guards, stays out of trouble. she doesn't talk to very many people at all, honestly. it's probably better that way, because there's only a handful of ways that this plays out — she shuts down, or she explodes.
laura, very maturely, ignores the message at first. she's still technically working even though the shop has shut down, which gives her ample time to stare at her device blankly and figure out how exactly she's supposed to respond. you were dead, again. i mourned you, again. and now everyone is telling me that death doesn't matter and i don't know how to reconcile that with what i'm already feeling.
she doesn't say any of that. what she actually says, is a very verbose: )
[ It's another half a day or so before she'll get anything back. Life catches up again, or really just the presence of memories and all the shit that happens at the beach. It's a while before he even thinks of checking his phone again, but when he does it's not a hard choice. ]
can you get to the gym? I want to see what's happened to it see if we can salvage anything
( the response comes through a lot faster this time. she's not holding vigil in the gym anymore but she's still in the down, despite the waist deep water making everything difficult. she hadn't spent the rest of the day hanging after a response but it had been something close to that, checking the device more in that half day window than she probably has her month here combined.
laura isn't really a rooftop scrambler at heart but she's becoming better at it, so maybe the godforsaken flood is good for something at least. she's halfway there before she even thinks to ask for any kind of specifics at all. )
( she could get there faster than she does. now that she's done it a few times, it's not as difficult as it seems to get between the public housing and the gym without going to street level. but she's dragging her feet all the same, even though this is more or less all she's thought about for a week now.
she's a little haphazard with her landing (sloppy, really, she could definitely do better) but it's a matter of brushing off her arm as she inhales deeply. he's definitely around. the floods have made scent tracking a little more complicated, but in this instant it actually helps. his presence here is new. )
A lot of it will have to be replaced.
( she offers the observation to the rooftop at large, in that careful, reserved tone of hers, hands in her pockets. he can approach when he wants, she's not going to go hunting for him. but she doesn't make any attempts to enter the gym without him, either. )
[ He's in his costume because it's easier to dry than denim and cotton and it at least has some waterproofing, though when you're wading hip deep in semi-toxic floodwater that doesn't make a whole lot of difference. At least it's not actually a sewer though, even if it does smell a bit like one.
Crouched on the edge of the rooftop in the shadow of a water tank, he lets the perpetual gloom of the Down keep him hidden from most casual glances. He's already seen evidence that the gangs have picked over the remains of the gym. If he can't stop them, he wants to at least catch them in the act. It would give him something to vent his feelings on, if nothing else.
He knows when Laura arrives, knows that she's already tired and reluctant, fouling a landing she could make in her sleep. Knowing that she's probably been through the ringer in the wake of his unexpected vacation. He climbs down off the edge of the roof and wanders around to meet her, keeping his body language neutral. Wolverine, not Logan, for the moment. Maybe that's easier for them both. ]
Somethin' tells me that I'm not gonna be able to claim on the flood insurance. [ He looks at her for a beat of silence, then continues. ]
I got my memories back. [ He's not sure how much she knows about that particular aspect, whether Dick told her or not, but just in case. ]
( it feels like business, and she thinks that it probably helps. it's not like he ever tasked her with watching over the gym, but desperately searching for something that didn't look like violence to keep herself occupied, there wasn't really any other option.
laura doesn't turn entirely towards him, side on but glancing over in his direction before her eyes fall back to the edge of the rooftop. she takes a few steps closer, to peer down at the street, and by the time she decides to turn around and face him head on, she-
doesn't actually feel an awful lot better. )
Good.
( she should be happy. she should be overjoyed actually, because losing logan a second time had been hard. especially here, when there are so few people that she actually trusts. laura should be relieved — and she is, she thinks, but it's not that simple. she's barely processing that loss, and it's a lot. )
One of the windows was broken a few days ago. It did not look like anything important was taken, but it was hard to tell.
[ For most people, she's probably hard to read, keeping everything hidden away under all those layers of carefully trained opacity and a stubborn refusal to give in to pointless emotion. For Logan it's a little easier. He's known her longer, and even if he hadn't, he's seen that exact same expression reflected back at him in the mirror countless times. It's the same look he gets right before he lights out to go get into a fight in some podunk truck stop bar or heads off into a rat's nest of ninjas and criminals so he can spend a lot of time not thinking about anything.
She doesn't have any of those opportunities. She can't just unload like he can, depending on a lifetime of bad habits to give him the excuse. She has to be careful and controlled. Not for the first time, he wonders how much that costs her.
After a moment, he pulls his gaze away from her and glances over at the gym. ]
Nothin' in there that can't be replaced. C'mon, let's take a look. And stay the hell outta the water.
[ Without waiting for her to agree, he heads over to the edge of the roof and hunkers down, turning and letting himself drop off onto the fire escape clinging to the side of the building. It rattles and creaks a protest at his landing, but holds as he makes his way down. He's been gauging the distance from the roof and it's an easy leap out onto the roof of a submerged SUV jammed up against a streetlight, the grip on his boots keeping him from skidding as it bounces on its shocks, before he launches off again towards another car, making his way across the street like that until he can reach a dumpster pulled up against the side of the warehouse that houses the gym. From there it's an easy scramble up a wall and through that broken window, pushing out the glass with a closed fist before he climbs inside. ]
( laura waits and watches as logan drops his way down to near street level, observing the full journey right up to the sound of glass being smashed again before she moves. she has actually found an easier way in over the past week, there's a window high up and barely cracked open almost exclusively for that purpose, but she follows his motions anyway.
she's lighter, more graceful, but she's more violent too. she stops herself sliding off the same SUV with a foot claw stabbed through the roof, stops herself from careening straight off the other side of the dumpster with a grip hard enough that the joints on the lid groan and pop.
she stays in the windowsill for a beat longer than necessary, looking around the place like she hasn't been here very recently. the evidence of laura's work is all over the place, items seemingly stuffed wherever she could find to keep them out of the water. there's a few heavier, bulkier pieces of equipment jammed into spots odd enough that they'll probably need telekinetic help getting them back down again.
her heels tap briefly against the wall and she watches logan with an intent focus, before she hops down carefully enough to stay dry. )
When the water clears up I will put it back. You weren't here, so.
[ The work that's been done inside is obvious, not just because he finds a pile of furniture, an old couch and gym mats hitched up to form an impromptu island. When Laura arrives he's standing down near the water's edge, tracing his gaze over the bits of equipment jammed into the rafters, stacked against the walls and hanging somewhat precariously from the beams. It already stinks inside, a combination of the dirty water and mildewed, rotting fabric and wood.
Logan bends down to pick up a small weight off the end of a dumbbell, turning it over in his hands before he throws it with a growled curse of petulant frustration to splash into the water. The gym hadn't been much to look at even before the flood, but it had been a start, and now he's even further back than square one.
He sighs and, after a moment, pulls back his cowl and rubs a hand through his hair, turning to look at Laura. ]
You didn't have to come clean it up. It's a risk bein' down here. [ He tries to make it sound like he's not telling her off, but it comes out pretty close to that anyway. His death wasn't an accident, after all. He can remember the feeling of those ghostly hands clamped around his ankles, dragging him down and down. ]
( he presumably understands enough inference there to recognise why laura couldn't stay in the up following the news of his drowning. too many rules, too many guards, and she's made too many promises about not getting into trouble again to risk walking those streets — and even if it's a little easier now that logan is back, the risk posed by the water is nothing on the risk posed by what laura might do if some city official decides that now is the moment to rub her the wrong way.
seeing him in uniform again is...something, but she's pretty sure it was preferable to when he takes the cowl off. laura had spent a number of nights in her room turning the cowl over in her hands, the one designed to echo his, but ultimately the uniform had stayed stashed away out of sight.
she doesn't know how she feels about being wolverine here, but the time to figure that out wasn't while logan was dead. )
You are dead. ( she says it bluntly, without much warning. a topic she's been avoiding so heavily, but everyone else is so certain that logan is alive again, laura can't not press down on that wound now. the old one she'd figured out how to live with, until this place decided to rip that right open again. ) For me. Kurt told me about Krakoa, but I am not there yet. You...are just dead.
[ He's not surprised when she finally decides to get to what's bothering her, nor is he surprised at the form it takes. He doesn't look away from her as she lays it out, half silhouetted in the gloom of the warehouse and the faint glow of the underground city that's the closest they get to sunlight, light reflected off the rippling water running over her face and up around the walls. He stays still and silent, letting old and new memories emerge like uncovering stones on the bottom of a deep cold pond.
He doesn't remember dying, exactly, though he knows it was a bad way to go. His brain has healed over the trauma and the pain, so it's blurry. He does remember the days before it happened, and coming back. Slowly reintegrating himself into the world, staying at the edges for far too long. Regretting it when he came home too late and found them all gone. And then that mess with Loki, and then Krakoa, and he hadn't really had time to stop and think before he'd been facing them all again, his kids all in the same place, looking to him for guidance. Or not.
He remembers further back, to Laura as a kid and the promises he'd made her. How devastated she'd been when he'd left. How she'd followed him all the way to the Savage Land, clinging to him like a burr. The old compound of guilt and desperate sorrow at what she's been through still lingers in him and probably always will, the product of knowing that he'd failed long before she'd been born, in the very fabric of his existence.
And now she's here, and suffering again because of him. Kurt would probably point out that he's being selfish to claim her grief, but he does it anyway, because it's always been the sharpest knife, the easiest way to hurt himself.
He swallows roughly around a knot rising in his throat. He forces himself to unclench his fists with a faint creak of Krakoan-manufactured leather, glancing down at the flooded gym floor. ]
I know. You.. from what you said when you first got here. I should've told you sooner, Laura, I'm sorry. I didn't know how and that's a goddamn stupid excuse, I know --
[ He clears his throat again and tries for an explanation that makes sense. Not that any of it really does. ]
I was back before anythin' with Krakoa happened. Brought back by someone who could resurrect the dead with her powers. She wanted to use me like they always wanna use us. I ended her, then I was just.. back. Whole. Able to heal again.
[ He turns to look at her again, knowing he's going to try to make excuses, hating himself for it, but wanting her to understand. His daughter, the child he knows best. ]
When I died.. that wasn't how I pictured goin' out. It was a mistake. I messed up and couldn't come back from it. But I think part of me knew it had to happen. I'm.. not meant for a peaceful life, Laura. When I lost my healing factor, I couldn't stop throwin' myself headfirst into fights like always, even though it was stupid. Over and over again. I coulda just gone off the grid, gone to Japan or out to the Rockies, stayed there. Settled down. Hid away for years waitin' for the inevitable. But even when I tried, it still all kept catchin' up to me. The violence and the death. It's my legacy. So I tried to draw it away from the people I cared about. I didn't stop to think what I was leavin' behind.
[ Slowly, he lifts up a hand, extending it out to her. ]
I know sorry ain't enough. But I am sorry, sweetheart.
( it surprises her how much it stings to hear him say so plainly that he knew. the others had exactly the pithy kinds of responses she would have expected, i didn't know and i'm sorry and i should have realised, even though laura has gone out of her way to make sure that that particular piece of information has stayed buried deep where no one could touch it.
except logan, apparently, who knew and didn't say anything. who let her throw his pride at her taking up the mantle — his name — back in his face with a quick dismissal, because it didn't mean the same thing to laura when she was just being congratulated on having another dead parent. or another dead 'as close to a parent as laura gets', anyway.
it doesn't surprise her how angry she is. about that, about him dying in the first place, about him dying here. it's been simmering under the surface since the beginning, scraped fresh by everything that has happened since she arrived here, and she's tried to bury it deep this past week, but it's still there. laura is so angry, and there's nowhere for it to go, so all it's done is choke her. )
None of us are meant for peace. Do you think my life became quiet because you were not in it?
( once he's done with his attempts at explanations and apologies, laura speaks. more quiet and careful each time she opens her mouth, because about all that laura is holding onto now is her restraint. she looks at his outstretched hand without taking it for the moment but steps closer all the same, hard faced when she looks at him.
laura wonders, sometimes, if when he looks at her all he can see is the girl she used to be. she feels it now, staring back at him and trying so hard to hold everything back, but she's too raw. her brows furrow just a fraction, the pinch of her mouth turned down slightly, her eyes searching for--something.
the reaction is hardly anything at all, tiny little fractures in an otherwise perfect facade, but they telegraph everything. )
I mourned you. I did not want to have to mourn you again, but you drowned, and where was I? Up in some fancy apartment block eating pizza? What is the point in me even being here if I could not stop it happening again—
( her mouth slams shut abruptly, and she turns side on again, exhaling in a shudder. she can't help thinking how much easier it would be if she could just take his hand. hug him and cry and tell him she missed him, berate him into being more careful and they could start again. but that's never been her. )
[ It would be easier if she took his hand, if she'd reached out for him like she was a little kid again and he was just her father. He could have pulled her close and held her, telling her without clumsy words how much he hates seeing her in pain and how much he wants to fix it. But she doesn't, she can't, and God help him he understands that too.
He meets her gaze as she looks back at him, those beautiful green eyes that remind him distantly of his mother. Willing himself to be an answer for her. Grasping his feelings for her feels like holding on to the wrong end of a sword, cutting himself deep the harder he grips it, but knowing that he can't let go or he'll be run through.
When she turns away he lowers his hand back to his side, slowly, closing his fingers on nothing except the cold wet air of the Down. He wants to tell her she couldn't have done anything anyway, not here or at home, but he knows she knows that already. Knows she won't need that pointing out. It won't help.
He follows her gaze out over the water. ]
You didn't ask to be here, Laura, no more'n any of us did. I'd rather know you were up there in that apartment with Keller and the others eatin' pizza than down here takin' risks.
[ He pushes out a breath and clears his throat after it. ]
One of the.. one of the hardest things I've ever done was makin' myself understand that I couldn't always be there to protect you. That you didn't need me to be around all the time because you could take care of yourself. Ever since I met that scrawny little kid who pinned me down and tried to bleed me out, all I've wanted to do is look after you. But I knew no matter what I did, I couldn't always be there, even though I promised to try as damn hard as I could. And I tried to keep my word on that.
I know it's hard. The lives we lead, the shit we end up in.. [ He waves vaguely at their surroundings. ] All the shit I've dragged you into -- I know it's hard. [ He turns his head to study her profile, wishing he had more to offer than that painful solidarity. ] I know, darlin'.
( she feels responsible, in a way that hasn't weighed on her in a long time. laura has done a lot of work to stop this kind of line of thought, to allow herself to accept that she isn't responsible for every loss she bears witness to, any mistake that happens in the broader circles around her. she's put a lot of work into keeping herself accountable for the things that are in her control, and recognising the things that aren't.
logan's death wasn't her responsibility. she couldn't have stopped it, not the last time and not now. but the guilt still sits heavy on her chest all the same. all that work.
she doesn't say 'i should have been here' but she expects that he feels her protest weighing between them all the same. for all his speech about letting go sounds nice, if she was the one dragged under the water she expects they would be having a similar conversation. that would be preferable, honestly. she's probably better at giving out comfort than receiving it. )
I thought...that the time we had here was all I was going to get.
( she says finally, carefully, because she can't talk about how hard this city is any more. logan's right, he knows, and he knows why it's hard for laura, and he probably knows better than her that death doesn't get any easier just because it's not permanent. she doesn't want people to be kind and careful with her anymore, it's too much.Â
her expression stays just as careful a construct as ever, but her jaw flexes as she jabs a finger towards his chest. )
You should have been more careful. You talk to me about being smart, what about you?
[ She's right, of course. She's nearly always right, able to pick her words with far more care than he's ever been able to muster, though he's not deceived by the weight of her silences. He knows there's more going on underneath than she allows to the surface. They're the same like that, though he's spent a long time learning how to cover up with bravado and bullshittery instead of those long measuring looks from deep green eyes.
He lets himself be harangued, knowing he's earned it. He's let her down, not for the first time. This isn't the worst place they've ended up in together, but it's not great, either. His gaze slides away from her when she expresses what she'd been assuming, making it clear how much that stupid mistake cost her. Three days is a pretty short amount of time in the grand scheme of things, but it can be unrelenting when it's full of that kind of pain. ]
I guess I want you do better than I can. [ He says it before he can stop himself, scowling on the heels of the truth of the sentiment, looking down at her hand. He knows he's missing the point but he's not sure how intentional he's being about it. Talking to Laura always has a way of unsettling him. ]
You're right, though. I shoulda been more careful. [ He flicks a glance sideways at her. ] I don't wanna lose you either, Laura.
( she's not sure what exactly it is that she wants out of logan. not anger, despite her own sharp words, she doesn't actually want to fight with him. but she doesn't want his sympathy either, the heavy sentiments sitting uncomfortably alongside all that nasty guilt that's weighing her down. she wants--
laura wants to forget about the whole thing, really, and go on living her life with the careful balance she'd struck before, of being around without being involved, getting time with him without having to give much of herself in return. it's a stupid pipedream, but it doesn't stop her from longing for the week earlier, where the only concern she'd had was a stupid logo printed tee shirt and whether or not an unfortunate observer might ask her to explain it.
there's a response caught on her lips, mouth opening and then closing just as quickly, because she can't decide if she wants to antagonise him or let it all go, chew him out more or apologise. it's frustrating enough that she lets out a sound an awful lot like a growl, and she steps closer, until that jabbing gesture becomes an actual finger prodded at his chest.Â
only for a second though, and then instead she's wrapping her arms around his chest and squeezing, tight enough that it's almost as aggressive as all the gesturing. )
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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she retreats to the down, stays away from guards, stays out of trouble. she doesn't talk to very many people at all, honestly. it's probably better that way, because there's only a handful of ways that this plays out — she shuts down, or she explodes.
laura, very maturely, ignores the message at first. she's still technically working even though the shop has shut down, which gives her ample time to stare at her device blankly and figure out how exactly she's supposed to respond. you were dead, again. i mourned you, again. and now everyone is telling me that death doesn't matter and i don't know how to reconcile that with what i'm already feeling.
she doesn't say any of that. what she actually says, is a very verbose: )
where
sometime on the 2nd
can you get to the gym? I want to see what's happened to it
see if we can salvage anything
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( the response comes through a lot faster this time. she's not holding vigil in the gym anymore but she's still in the down, despite the waist deep water making everything difficult. she hadn't spent the rest of the day hanging after a response but it had been something close to that, checking the device more in that half day window than she probably has her month here combined.
laura isn't really a rooftop scrambler at heart but she's becoming better at it, so maybe the godforsaken flood is good for something at least. she's halfway there before she even thinks to ask for any kind of specifics at all. )
when?
i moved some things.
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out of the water.
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( it's pretty well ruined anyway, but. )
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the water is dangerous
[ He's already there; he's been lingering on a nearby rooftop for a while, trying to get up the nerve to text her back. ]
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i'll be there soon. if you're free.
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( she could get there faster than she does. now that she's done it a few times, it's not as difficult as it seems to get between the public housing and the gym without going to street level. but she's dragging her feet all the same, even though this is more or less all she's thought about for a week now.
she's a little haphazard with her landing (sloppy, really, she could definitely do better) but it's a matter of brushing off her arm as she inhales deeply. he's definitely around. the floods have made scent tracking a little more complicated, but in this instant it actually helps. his presence here is new. )
A lot of it will have to be replaced.
( she offers the observation to the rooftop at large, in that careful, reserved tone of hers, hands in her pockets. he can approach when he wants, she's not going to go hunting for him. but she doesn't make any attempts to enter the gym without him, either. )
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Crouched on the edge of the rooftop in the shadow of a water tank, he lets the perpetual gloom of the Down keep him hidden from most casual glances. He's already seen evidence that the gangs have picked over the remains of the gym. If he can't stop them, he wants to at least catch them in the act. It would give him something to vent his feelings on, if nothing else.
He knows when Laura arrives, knows that she's already tired and reluctant, fouling a landing she could make in her sleep. Knowing that she's probably been through the ringer in the wake of his unexpected vacation. He climbs down off the edge of the roof and wanders around to meet her, keeping his body language neutral. Wolverine, not Logan, for the moment. Maybe that's easier for them both. ]
Somethin' tells me that I'm not gonna be able to claim on the flood insurance. [ He looks at her for a beat of silence, then continues. ]
I got my memories back. [ He's not sure how much she knows about that particular aspect, whether Dick told her or not, but just in case. ]
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laura doesn't turn entirely towards him, side on but glancing over in his direction before her eyes fall back to the edge of the rooftop. she takes a few steps closer, to peer down at the street, and by the time she decides to turn around and face him head on, she-
doesn't actually feel an awful lot better. )
Good.
( she should be happy. she should be overjoyed actually, because losing logan a second time had been hard. especially here, when there are so few people that she actually trusts. laura should be relieved — and she is, she thinks, but it's not that simple. she's barely processing that loss, and it's a lot. )
One of the windows was broken a few days ago. It did not look like anything important was taken, but it was hard to tell.
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She doesn't have any of those opportunities. She can't just unload like he can, depending on a lifetime of bad habits to give him the excuse. She has to be careful and controlled. Not for the first time, he wonders how much that costs her.
After a moment, he pulls his gaze away from her and glances over at the gym. ]
Nothin' in there that can't be replaced. C'mon, let's take a look. And stay the hell outta the water.
[ Without waiting for her to agree, he heads over to the edge of the roof and hunkers down, turning and letting himself drop off onto the fire escape clinging to the side of the building. It rattles and creaks a protest at his landing, but holds as he makes his way down. He's been gauging the distance from the roof and it's an easy leap out onto the roof of a submerged SUV jammed up against a streetlight, the grip on his boots keeping him from skidding as it bounces on its shocks, before he launches off again towards another car, making his way across the street like that until he can reach a dumpster pulled up against the side of the warehouse that houses the gym. From there it's an easy scramble up a wall and through that broken window, pushing out the glass with a closed fist before he climbs inside. ]
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she's lighter, more graceful, but she's more violent too. she stops herself sliding off the same SUV with a foot claw stabbed through the roof, stops herself from careening straight off the other side of the dumpster with a grip hard enough that the joints on the lid groan and pop.
she stays in the windowsill for a beat longer than necessary, looking around the place like she hasn't been here very recently. the evidence of laura's work is all over the place, items seemingly stuffed wherever she could find to keep them out of the water. there's a few heavier, bulkier pieces of equipment jammed into spots odd enough that they'll probably need telekinetic help getting them back down again.
her heels tap briefly against the wall and she watches logan with an intent focus, before she hops down carefully enough to stay dry. )
When the water clears up I will put it back. You weren't here, so.
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Logan bends down to pick up a small weight off the end of a dumbbell, turning it over in his hands before he throws it with a growled curse of petulant frustration to splash into the water. The gym hadn't been much to look at even before the flood, but it had been a start, and now he's even further back than square one.
He sighs and, after a moment, pulls back his cowl and rubs a hand through his hair, turning to look at Laura. ]
You didn't have to come clean it up. It's a risk bein' down here. [ He tries to make it sound like he's not telling her off, but it comes out pretty close to that anyway. His death wasn't an accident, after all. He can remember the feeling of those ghostly hands clamped around his ankles, dragging him down and down. ]
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( he presumably understands enough inference there to recognise why laura couldn't stay in the up following the news of his drowning. too many rules, too many guards, and she's made too many promises about not getting into trouble again to risk walking those streets — and even if it's a little easier now that logan is back, the risk posed by the water is nothing on the risk posed by what laura might do if some city official decides that now is the moment to rub her the wrong way.
seeing him in uniform again is...something, but she's pretty sure it was preferable to when he takes the cowl off. laura had spent a number of nights in her room turning the cowl over in her hands, the one designed to echo his, but ultimately the uniform had stayed stashed away out of sight.
she doesn't know how she feels about being wolverine here, but the time to figure that out wasn't while logan was dead. )
You are dead. ( she says it bluntly, without much warning. a topic she's been avoiding so heavily, but everyone else is so certain that logan is alive again, laura can't not press down on that wound now. the old one she'd figured out how to live with, until this place decided to rip that right open again. ) For me. Kurt told me about Krakoa, but I am not there yet. You...are just dead.
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He doesn't remember dying, exactly, though he knows it was a bad way to go. His brain has healed over the trauma and the pain, so it's blurry. He does remember the days before it happened, and coming back. Slowly reintegrating himself into the world, staying at the edges for far too long. Regretting it when he came home too late and found them all gone. And then that mess with Loki, and then Krakoa, and he hadn't really had time to stop and think before he'd been facing them all again, his kids all in the same place, looking to him for guidance. Or not.
He remembers further back, to Laura as a kid and the promises he'd made her. How devastated she'd been when he'd left. How she'd followed him all the way to the Savage Land, clinging to him like a burr. The old compound of guilt and desperate sorrow at what she's been through still lingers in him and probably always will, the product of knowing that he'd failed long before she'd been born, in the very fabric of his existence.
And now she's here, and suffering again because of him. Kurt would probably point out that he's being selfish to claim her grief, but he does it anyway, because it's always been the sharpest knife, the easiest way to hurt himself.
He swallows roughly around a knot rising in his throat. He forces himself to unclench his fists with a faint creak of Krakoan-manufactured leather, glancing down at the flooded gym floor. ]
I know. You.. from what you said when you first got here. I should've told you sooner, Laura, I'm sorry. I didn't know how and that's a goddamn stupid excuse, I know --
[ He clears his throat again and tries for an explanation that makes sense. Not that any of it really does. ]
I was back before anythin' with Krakoa happened. Brought back by someone who could resurrect the dead with her powers. She wanted to use me like they always wanna use us. I ended her, then I was just.. back. Whole. Able to heal again.
[ He turns to look at her again, knowing he's going to try to make excuses, hating himself for it, but wanting her to understand. His daughter, the child he knows best. ]
When I died.. that wasn't how I pictured goin' out. It was a mistake. I messed up and couldn't come back from it. But I think part of me knew it had to happen. I'm.. not meant for a peaceful life, Laura. When I lost my healing factor, I couldn't stop throwin' myself headfirst into fights like always, even though it was stupid. Over and over again. I coulda just gone off the grid, gone to Japan or out to the Rockies, stayed there. Settled down. Hid away for years waitin' for the inevitable. But even when I tried, it still all kept catchin' up to me. The violence and the death. It's my legacy. So I tried to draw it away from the people I cared about. I didn't stop to think what I was leavin' behind.
[ Slowly, he lifts up a hand, extending it out to her. ]
I know sorry ain't enough. But I am sorry, sweetheart.
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except logan, apparently, who knew and didn't say anything. who let her throw his pride at her taking up the mantle — his name — back in his face with a quick dismissal, because it didn't mean the same thing to laura when she was just being congratulated on having another dead parent. or another dead 'as close to a parent as laura gets', anyway.
it doesn't surprise her how angry she is. about that, about him dying in the first place, about him dying here. it's been simmering under the surface since the beginning, scraped fresh by everything that has happened since she arrived here, and she's tried to bury it deep this past week, but it's still there. laura is so angry, and there's nowhere for it to go, so all it's done is choke her. )
None of us are meant for peace. Do you think my life became quiet because you were not in it?
( once he's done with his attempts at explanations and apologies, laura speaks. more quiet and careful each time she opens her mouth, because about all that laura is holding onto now is her restraint. she looks at his outstretched hand without taking it for the moment but steps closer all the same, hard faced when she looks at him.
laura wonders, sometimes, if when he looks at her all he can see is the girl she used to be. she feels it now, staring back at him and trying so hard to hold everything back, but she's too raw. her brows furrow just a fraction, the pinch of her mouth turned down slightly, her eyes searching for--something.
the reaction is hardly anything at all, tiny little fractures in an otherwise perfect facade, but they telegraph everything. )
I mourned you. I did not want to have to mourn you again, but you drowned, and where was I? Up in some fancy apartment block eating pizza? What is the point in me even being here if I could not stop it happening again—
( her mouth slams shut abruptly, and she turns side on again, exhaling in a shudder. she can't help thinking how much easier it would be if she could just take his hand. hug him and cry and tell him she missed him, berate him into being more careful and they could start again. but that's never been her. )
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He meets her gaze as she looks back at him, those beautiful green eyes that remind him distantly of his mother. Willing himself to be an answer for her. Grasping his feelings for her feels like holding on to the wrong end of a sword, cutting himself deep the harder he grips it, but knowing that he can't let go or he'll be run through.
When she turns away he lowers his hand back to his side, slowly, closing his fingers on nothing except the cold wet air of the Down. He wants to tell her she couldn't have done anything anyway, not here or at home, but he knows she knows that already. Knows she won't need that pointing out. It won't help.
He follows her gaze out over the water. ]
You didn't ask to be here, Laura, no more'n any of us did. I'd rather know you were up there in that apartment with Keller and the others eatin' pizza than down here takin' risks.
[ He pushes out a breath and clears his throat after it. ]
One of the.. one of the hardest things I've ever done was makin' myself understand that I couldn't always be there to protect you. That you didn't need me to be around all the time because you could take care of yourself. Ever since I met that scrawny little kid who pinned me down and tried to bleed me out, all I've wanted to do is look after you. But I knew no matter what I did, I couldn't always be there, even though I promised to try as damn hard as I could. And I tried to keep my word on that.
I know it's hard. The lives we lead, the shit we end up in.. [ He waves vaguely at their surroundings. ] All the shit I've dragged you into -- I know it's hard. [ He turns his head to study her profile, wishing he had more to offer than that painful solidarity. ] I know, darlin'.
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logan's death wasn't her responsibility. she couldn't have stopped it, not the last time and not now. but the guilt still sits heavy on her chest all the same. all that work.
she doesn't say 'i should have been here' but she expects that he feels her protest weighing between them all the same. for all his speech about letting go sounds nice, if she was the one dragged under the water she expects they would be having a similar conversation. that would be preferable, honestly. she's probably better at giving out comfort than receiving it. )
I thought...that the time we had here was all I was going to get.
( she says finally, carefully, because she can't talk about how hard this city is any more. logan's right, he knows, and he knows why it's hard for laura, and he probably knows better than her that death doesn't get any easier just because it's not permanent. she doesn't want people to be kind and careful with her anymore, it's too much.Â
her expression stays just as careful a construct as ever, but her jaw flexes as she jabs a finger towards his chest. )
You should have been more careful. You talk to me about being smart, what about you?
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He lets himself be harangued, knowing he's earned it. He's let her down, not for the first time. This isn't the worst place they've ended up in together, but it's not great, either. His gaze slides away from her when she expresses what she'd been assuming, making it clear how much that stupid mistake cost her. Three days is a pretty short amount of time in the grand scheme of things, but it can be unrelenting when it's full of that kind of pain. ]
I guess I want you do better than I can. [ He says it before he can stop himself, scowling on the heels of the truth of the sentiment, looking down at her hand. He knows he's missing the point but he's not sure how intentional he's being about it. Talking to Laura always has a way of unsettling him. ]
You're right, though. I shoulda been more careful. [ He flicks a glance sideways at her. ] I don't wanna lose you either, Laura.
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laura wants to forget about the whole thing, really, and go on living her life with the careful balance she'd struck before, of being around without being involved, getting time with him without having to give much of herself in return. it's a stupid pipedream, but it doesn't stop her from longing for the week earlier, where the only concern she'd had was a stupid logo printed tee shirt and whether or not an unfortunate observer might ask her to explain it.
there's a response caught on her lips, mouth opening and then closing just as quickly, because she can't decide if she wants to antagonise him or let it all go, chew him out more or apologise. it's frustrating enough that she lets out a sound an awful lot like a growl, and she steps closer, until that jabbing gesture becomes an actual finger prodded at his chest.Â
only for a second though, and then instead she's wrapping her arms around his chest and squeezing, tight enough that it's almost as aggressive as all the gesturing. )
Be better. I do not want to do this again.
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