(no subject)
Title: Guardian
Author: Phoenix Angel Suyari
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Warren/Jamie
Summary: No one can take the place of you in my heart.
Archive: Just ask.
Disclaimer: I do not own the X-men.
A/N: For solar_cat05. Okay, so it's not exactly saccharine. And yea...it's a bit of a dark one, but for some reason, bittersweet is what came out.
Jamie well recalled certain moments of his life. They came to him suddenly, in startling clarity. Sometimes, the memories were whole. Others, mere parts, but no less strong. The smell and taste of the bread his mother used to make every Wednesday morning. The thick welcome weight of his father's pipe smoke in his lungs. The lullaby that she always sang when he had nightmares, and the hymn he always hummed when Jaime had been hurt.
He could remember their deaths quite vividly, but what weighed upon him the most was the after. The empty home, full of things. Things Jamie never wanted to see again, and things he never wanted to go away. The constant sound of the doorbell, as neighbors shuffled in with pots of this and loaves of that. They looked at him with pity. They hugged him with arms too weak, or arms too strong. They spoke to him, but he never listened.
"A tragedy," they said.
All he could think was, 'Why?'
Things got better when he was sent to live with his Nana in California. And for a time, the weight of being suddenly alone had been lifted.
He could still remember the distinct shuffle of her slippers against the carpet. The cough that he was told not to mind, and the plastic clacking of pills against too orange jars. They were poor, but they were happy. Nana sacrificed for him, so they could be together. And Jamie was so thankful, he didn't even think to be upset over second hand clothes, and one present each holiday.
And then his Nana went away too.
All over again, all too soon, he had to endure the people, the food, the sorrowful murmurs. There was a time, he had thought his heart would explode. And to keep from being alone, he'd thrown himself down a hill and gathered up all the other hims and cried to them in the basement until he fell asleep.
He kept the house full of them, not caring if the neighbors saw or heard. After all, everything had been taken from him, there was nothing more the world could do to him. So what, if they came for him, shouting, "Freak" or "Mutant". At least he wouldn't be alone.
Then came Moira.
Professor Xavier and the Institute.
Warren.
Jaime realized he hadn't loved so much before in his life. Never. Not with his mother, his father, even his Nana. He should rightly feel ashamed, he supposed. But there could be no shame in loving someone. His mother had always told him so. And Jamie loved him. Oh how he loved him.
Jamie loved Warren so much, there were no words in any language in the universe that could properly describe the feeling.
The problem of course, was Warren didn't love him back. He was fond of him, Jamie could tell. But there was something in the way Warren avoided looking him directly in the eyes that Jamie felt indicated not only that Warren knew, but that he was tolerating Jamie's feelings for him. Jamie didn't want to be tolerated. But he didn't want to be anywhere, with anyone, unless it was Warren.
He started to have his doubts when Warren would comfort him at night. Someone who didn't at least care deeply for you even a little, would get up every night to hold you and caress you and whisper, "It's okay." Someone who didn't at least feel for you at a certain level, would trouble themselves with protecting you from the parts of movies that always gave you the kinds of nightmares that woke the whole boy's wing.
Nightmares were fears, and fears were only partly rational.
Jamie wasn't quite sure how to process his own fears. He wasn't afraid of needles, or thunderstorms. Horror movies, or ghost stories. Jamie wasn't afraid of spiders, or the dark, or even being alone - so much. No. What frightened Jamie more than anything. Seeing them on tv, or reading about them in the paper, or hearing about them on the news...Jamie was afraid of funerals.
A stupid thing to be afraid of, really. Rationally, he knew that the funeral of a person was a time for the family to grieve the most. It was a release of the body and an embrace of the spirit. But, Jamie couldn't pass a hearse. He could force himself to look at a cemetery. Or caskets, or tombstones, funeral flowers, incense. There were certain foods he still couldn't eat because they were the foods that were always brought in offering to the grieving family. And really, having your palms go sweaty, and your stomach clench, and your throat tighten, and your heart race over a potato was just ridiculous. But, it happened anyway.
Warren would listen when he would ramble between his sobs. Jamie never knew he was taking mental notes. It was only when he began to notice the frequency of such occurrences dwindle and eventually come to a halt, that he realized. It wasn't until after, when everyday felt less like a trial, that Jamie could finally breathe enough to laugh.
And it only made him love Warren more.
Having never been Catholic, Jamie was sure he wasn't entitled to a Guardian Angel. His Guardian Spirit, however, was always close by. But even it could not compete with Warren, blasphemous as it may be.
So it was, that Warren became Jamie's guardian. He was a pillar of support, arms of comfort, and a source of security. He was so much for the younger teen, that Jamie never wondered who did the same things for Warren. And when the entire Institute was told, save for him, Jamie got angry. He fought with them, because it wasn't fair. Never once thinking perhaps they were all trying to protect him.
He went.
Initially, seeing the mountains of flowers, and the two long, gleaming caskets stopped Jamie in his tracks. The others walked around him, with only Bobby giving his shoulder a supportive squeeze before passing. He stood there, feeling his stomach bubble, and his brow furrow. His fists clenched and he bit his lip. Forcing himself to look anywhere but there, he found his eyes drifting to his one means of support. And then he felt his heart break.
Warren looked horrible.
He was dressed perfectly. In a dark suit, buttoned all the way, and a blue tie that looked like it was slowly choking him. His hair was combed impeccably, and his wings were strapped brusingly to his back, so flat the pain and cramps would be unbearable. Still, Warren nodded, and offered his thanks. He shook hands and accepted peoples apologies that such a tragedy should befall his family.
Jamie watched Warren pretend to be okay. He watched him pretend to be responsible. Watched him be calm and reasonable, and thankful. He watched peoples eyes. Watched them look at Warren with pity, look at him with jealousy, look at him with greed, and even others, lust.
Jamie could feel the burning in his heart. A strange, sort of strength. A desire to shove aside the world and take Warren in his arms and protect him. It was not what he was used to, but the longer he stood there, the stronger the urge grew, until his whole body trembled with it.
"Warren," he said, and watched Warren turn to him, eyes going wide. He grabbed the younger mutant by the shoulders and shoved him backward, past the flowers, away from the caskets, and the people in black. Forced him into an alcove and pulled the curtain closed.
"Jamie, you shouldn't be here," he said, eyes full of worry.
"Warren," he replied. "It's okay."
He watched Warren stare at him for several moments. Watched him go from surprised, to curious, to emotionally wrecked in a few seconds. And then he doubled over, hands over his face, eyes overflowing with tears. And Jamie reached up and drew him close. Leaning back into the spare chairs and bringing Warren down, until he sat, with the other bowed over his lap.
"It's okay, Warren," he said, calmly. "It's okay..."
Warren let go. And Jamie held him close, stroking him softly and whispering. "It's okay, Warren, it's okay." He leaned over and kissed the top of the blonde's head gently. "I'm here. You're not alone. I promise...you'll never be alone. I'm here for you. I'm here."
Author: Phoenix Angel Suyari
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Warren/Jamie
Summary: No one can take the place of you in my heart.
Archive: Just ask.
Disclaimer: I do not own the X-men.
A/N: For solar_cat05. Okay, so it's not exactly saccharine. And yea...it's a bit of a dark one, but for some reason, bittersweet is what came out.
Jamie well recalled certain moments of his life. They came to him suddenly, in startling clarity. Sometimes, the memories were whole. Others, mere parts, but no less strong. The smell and taste of the bread his mother used to make every Wednesday morning. The thick welcome weight of his father's pipe smoke in his lungs. The lullaby that she always sang when he had nightmares, and the hymn he always hummed when Jaime had been hurt.
He could remember their deaths quite vividly, but what weighed upon him the most was the after. The empty home, full of things. Things Jamie never wanted to see again, and things he never wanted to go away. The constant sound of the doorbell, as neighbors shuffled in with pots of this and loaves of that. They looked at him with pity. They hugged him with arms too weak, or arms too strong. They spoke to him, but he never listened.
"A tragedy," they said.
All he could think was, 'Why?'
Things got better when he was sent to live with his Nana in California. And for a time, the weight of being suddenly alone had been lifted.
He could still remember the distinct shuffle of her slippers against the carpet. The cough that he was told not to mind, and the plastic clacking of pills against too orange jars. They were poor, but they were happy. Nana sacrificed for him, so they could be together. And Jamie was so thankful, he didn't even think to be upset over second hand clothes, and one present each holiday.
And then his Nana went away too.
All over again, all too soon, he had to endure the people, the food, the sorrowful murmurs. There was a time, he had thought his heart would explode. And to keep from being alone, he'd thrown himself down a hill and gathered up all the other hims and cried to them in the basement until he fell asleep.
He kept the house full of them, not caring if the neighbors saw or heard. After all, everything had been taken from him, there was nothing more the world could do to him. So what, if they came for him, shouting, "Freak" or "Mutant". At least he wouldn't be alone.
Then came Moira.
Professor Xavier and the Institute.
Warren.
Jaime realized he hadn't loved so much before in his life. Never. Not with his mother, his father, even his Nana. He should rightly feel ashamed, he supposed. But there could be no shame in loving someone. His mother had always told him so. And Jamie loved him. Oh how he loved him.
Jamie loved Warren so much, there were no words in any language in the universe that could properly describe the feeling.
The problem of course, was Warren didn't love him back. He was fond of him, Jamie could tell. But there was something in the way Warren avoided looking him directly in the eyes that Jamie felt indicated not only that Warren knew, but that he was tolerating Jamie's feelings for him. Jamie didn't want to be tolerated. But he didn't want to be anywhere, with anyone, unless it was Warren.
He started to have his doubts when Warren would comfort him at night. Someone who didn't at least care deeply for you even a little, would get up every night to hold you and caress you and whisper, "It's okay." Someone who didn't at least feel for you at a certain level, would trouble themselves with protecting you from the parts of movies that always gave you the kinds of nightmares that woke the whole boy's wing.
Nightmares were fears, and fears were only partly rational.
Jamie wasn't quite sure how to process his own fears. He wasn't afraid of needles, or thunderstorms. Horror movies, or ghost stories. Jamie wasn't afraid of spiders, or the dark, or even being alone - so much. No. What frightened Jamie more than anything. Seeing them on tv, or reading about them in the paper, or hearing about them on the news...Jamie was afraid of funerals.
A stupid thing to be afraid of, really. Rationally, he knew that the funeral of a person was a time for the family to grieve the most. It was a release of the body and an embrace of the spirit. But, Jamie couldn't pass a hearse. He could force himself to look at a cemetery. Or caskets, or tombstones, funeral flowers, incense. There were certain foods he still couldn't eat because they were the foods that were always brought in offering to the grieving family. And really, having your palms go sweaty, and your stomach clench, and your throat tighten, and your heart race over a potato was just ridiculous. But, it happened anyway.
Warren would listen when he would ramble between his sobs. Jamie never knew he was taking mental notes. It was only when he began to notice the frequency of such occurrences dwindle and eventually come to a halt, that he realized. It wasn't until after, when everyday felt less like a trial, that Jamie could finally breathe enough to laugh.
And it only made him love Warren more.
Having never been Catholic, Jamie was sure he wasn't entitled to a Guardian Angel. His Guardian Spirit, however, was always close by. But even it could not compete with Warren, blasphemous as it may be.
So it was, that Warren became Jamie's guardian. He was a pillar of support, arms of comfort, and a source of security. He was so much for the younger teen, that Jamie never wondered who did the same things for Warren. And when the entire Institute was told, save for him, Jamie got angry. He fought with them, because it wasn't fair. Never once thinking perhaps they were all trying to protect him.
He went.
Initially, seeing the mountains of flowers, and the two long, gleaming caskets stopped Jamie in his tracks. The others walked around him, with only Bobby giving his shoulder a supportive squeeze before passing. He stood there, feeling his stomach bubble, and his brow furrow. His fists clenched and he bit his lip. Forcing himself to look anywhere but there, he found his eyes drifting to his one means of support. And then he felt his heart break.
Warren looked horrible.
He was dressed perfectly. In a dark suit, buttoned all the way, and a blue tie that looked like it was slowly choking him. His hair was combed impeccably, and his wings were strapped brusingly to his back, so flat the pain and cramps would be unbearable. Still, Warren nodded, and offered his thanks. He shook hands and accepted peoples apologies that such a tragedy should befall his family.
Jamie watched Warren pretend to be okay. He watched him pretend to be responsible. Watched him be calm and reasonable, and thankful. He watched peoples eyes. Watched them look at Warren with pity, look at him with jealousy, look at him with greed, and even others, lust.
Jamie could feel the burning in his heart. A strange, sort of strength. A desire to shove aside the world and take Warren in his arms and protect him. It was not what he was used to, but the longer he stood there, the stronger the urge grew, until his whole body trembled with it.
"Warren," he said, and watched Warren turn to him, eyes going wide. He grabbed the younger mutant by the shoulders and shoved him backward, past the flowers, away from the caskets, and the people in black. Forced him into an alcove and pulled the curtain closed.
"Jamie, you shouldn't be here," he said, eyes full of worry.
"Warren," he replied. "It's okay."
He watched Warren stare at him for several moments. Watched him go from surprised, to curious, to emotionally wrecked in a few seconds. And then he doubled over, hands over his face, eyes overflowing with tears. And Jamie reached up and drew him close. Leaning back into the spare chairs and bringing Warren down, until he sat, with the other bowed over his lap.
"It's okay, Warren," he said, calmly. "It's okay..."
Warren let go. And Jamie held him close, stroking him softly and whispering. "It's okay, Warren, it's okay." He leaned over and kissed the top of the blonde's head gently. "I'm here. You're not alone. I promise...you'll never be alone. I'm here for you. I'm here."