WHO: Lorna Dane and Remy LeBeau WHERE: The old mansion WHEN: UHHH whenever they got back from LA? WARNINGS: IDKKK angst, probably? SUMMARY: Aftermath from the mission in LA FORMAT: Paraterrorism, then whatever Ian wants.
He entered the mansion like a wraith blown in through a graveyard, his shoulders tense, his face grave, every movement carrying regret and anger -- quite a bit of anger, if one knew where to look for it -- as if they were physical things that could shackle on to the ground. The door opened silently, and his footsteps carried him just as quietly down the hall, years and years worth of training helping him to mask what Remy was appropriately telling himself had to be a walk of shame.
When he saw Lorna, his breath hitched in his throat. He had failed her; had failed his entire team, really, but doing it to Lorna hurt the most. He was supposed to be protecting her, was, he had said, supposed to be looking out for her. And, instead, he had slipped away -- like a coward, so much like a coward; it's what he always was -- when the going went rough.
He'd never be an X-man again.
Remy said nothing as he stood there in the doorway, waiting for her to lay into him.
The second she felt him enter the room, her eyes glanced up, and she glared at him. The amount of trust Lorna had in Remy was actually quite large. She believed in the things he said, believed that he would try and help her with her problems. Yet, look how that turned out. There was so much she wanted to say, but only one word came out.
It was almost a physical blow, was what that greeting was. Remy tensed, balling his fists hard enough to drive the knuckles white before replying. Today most certainly would not end well for him.
"Hello."
Again, he remained silent. Let come what may, and let him suffer for it. Only him. Always him.
He wouldn't implicate Scathach as being the one who dragged him out of there. He wouldn't. It was Remy's own damn fault for not being fast enough, for not noticing that the enemy was right on top of them until the last moment. Never mind that all of their planning hadn't factored in so much firepower or tech: it was Remy's fault.
He looked down at the floor, and made no excuses for himself.
Lorna was actually surprised by that. She wanted him to defend himself, wanted him to give her an excuse. Just something, something, something. Couldn't he fight for her to not be mad anymore?
"I--" he began, and then thought better for it. What could he say, that she didn't already believe? How could he explain that he had wanted to go back, but couldn't? Wasn't allowed; that he would have gone back and been put in the same shackles she was, if only he weren't an X-man.
He shook his head, already feeling his nails biting into his skin.
"M'sorry." in so many ways, he thought, in so, so many. "I didn't t'ink dat de rest of ya would get caught."
Which was just about the shittiest explanation ever.
It was weak, but at least he was fighting. That's all Lorna wanted right now, was for him to defend himself. Survive the argument.
"Well, we did," Lorna said. Should she bring up the fact that Cable and Deadpool had practically expected him to do that? No, not right now. "You couldn't even stop to warn the rest of us we needed to get out of there? If you saw it?"
"By de time I noticed, dey were already on top of us. Dere--" he stopped himself, putting up his hands in what may have been an attempt at a placating motion. There wasn't enough time was what he wanted to say, but. "--I wasn't fast enough, non. I didn't t'ink I'd have to be."
Which was true, in some respects, but even if they had gone in knowing what they knew know, what difference would it had made?
"I wasn't plannin' on ditching everyone, if dat's what you think."
"No," Lorna continued. "After they shackled us, they just dumped us into the forest. Maybe a few minor scrapes and bruises, but I'm fine. The others aren't hurt either."
When he saw Lorna, his breath hitched in his throat. He had failed her; had failed his entire team, really, but doing it to Lorna hurt the most. He was supposed to be protecting her, was, he had said, supposed to be looking out for her. And, instead, he had slipped away -- like a coward, so much like a coward; it's what he always was -- when the going went rough.
He'd never be an X-man again.
Remy said nothing as he stood there in the doorway, waiting for her to lay into him.
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"Hello," she greeted, ice coating her tone.
Well. It was a start.
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"Hello."
Again, he remained silent. Let come what may, and let him suffer for it. Only him. Always him.
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Lorna hoped she didn't lose control of her powers; just speaking with Scathach after that had made her fingers spark up. Would that happen here?
"You left us."
What she really meant, though, was you left me.
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He looked down at the floor, and made no excuses for himself.
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Finally, the words left her mouth.
"You left me."
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He shook his head, already feeling his nails biting into his skin.
"M'sorry." in so many ways, he thought, in so, so many. "I didn't t'ink dat de rest of ya would get caught."
Which was just about the shittiest explanation ever.
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"Well, we did," Lorna said. Should she bring up the fact that Cable and Deadpool had practically expected him to do that? No, not right now. "You couldn't even stop to warn the rest of us we needed to get out of there? If you saw it?"
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Which was true, in some respects, but even if they had gone in knowing what they knew know, what difference would it had made?
"I wasn't plannin' on ditching everyone, if dat's what you think."
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Others did, however.
"It just happened, right?"
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"What're ya implyin exactly, fille?"
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"Ain't exactly like I planned on it either."
He took in a breath, tried to calm himself. There were other things to focus on; the follow, of which, it took him a moment or so to ask about.
"--You ain't hurt, are ya?"
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"Does Scott know you were involved?" he pressed, knowing it sould be touchy territory. Better to get it out of the way now.
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