wedonot | SIXTY TWO ✖ VIDEO

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SIXTY TWO ✖ VIDEO

[He's almost not sure if he wants to put himself out there considering the last time this happened, he was pretty much miserable afterwards, but as much as that's true, he's in a much better place this time around, and he does really miss quite a few people from back home.

And you know, always good to make sure Hank and Darwin haven't let Sean destroy the house by accident in their absence.]

This is Dr. Charles Xavier. If there's anyone out there from home- [You know who you are.] I'd appreciate hearing from you.

[Private to Zane]

[Someone's been keeping an eye on Kelsier's post, and he's definitely noticed that things seem to be getting sort of out of control. He's concerned, and decides to shoot Zane a message.]

Where are you?

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[Charles opens the door carefully and steps inside, closing it behind him and walking over to Zane immediately, cautiously sitting down next to him and settling a hand on his shoulder.]

I saw what happened.

[ He's just - shivering. Emotional overload. There were moments there when he came close to murderous rage, and that's still there, along with anguish, and - his father is dead, should he be so relieved? Should he be so hurt? ]

Please make this stop.

[It's tempting, to just reach out and soothe the emotion away, but he's so reluctant to do it with him because he's already been so manipulated by people.]

Can you talk to me about it?

They all turned me away. Vin and the kandra and Kelsier.

[ He is having trouble breathing. ]

My father is dead. I - there's nothing -

[ He's never felt so alone, so trapped, so raw. ]

I'm in a cage.

You won't be forever. And you're not alone, even though I know right now, it feels like you are.

[He squeezes his shoulder, trying to give him some kind of support.]

Zane, I need you to calm your mind. I can help you relax with my telepathy, if you want.

Do it!

[ This is snapped, suddenly and harshly. He turns on Charles, his fingers digging harshly into Charles' shoulder. ]

Take this away. Make it go.

[Charles brings his free hand to his temple and carefully pushes the suggestion of calm on Zane.]

This isn't permanent, [He says carefully, wanting to make this explicitly clear.] but we should talk about this when you're calmer. It will be alright, Zane.

[ He's not paying attention to Charles's words. He doesn't care. He wants this gone, now, the numbing and furious pieces of him taken away. He has never felt anything resembling this before.

He throws himself into the telepathic influence like a vortex, a hurricane dashing itself against a rock. ]

[Charles calms that too, gently diverting the emotion and smoothing it all away to something more level. It's relatively fast, but it's still a gradual taper off instead of just guillotining the emotion, and Charles keeps a hand on Zane's shoulder, rubbing his thumb along the muscle there soothingly.

Maybe it's just instinct at this point, but he's also projecting that Zane's not alone, that he's here and he isn't going anywhere, that it's okay if he needs to lean on him for the time being.]

[ Like breaking through a window. There is that first hard impact, that crunch of a hit, and then a free-fall full of little slivers, shards and the cuts they leave behind.

His grip on Charles slackens, and he breathes. He sits back on his heels, kneeling. He wipes liquid from around his eyes and stares at the wet streaks on his hands in disgust. ]

[Charles keeps a gentle hand on his shoulder, still worried, and repeats what he said earlier.]

This isn't permanent. I can help you manage it for a while, but I can't just take it away for good.

[ Zane shrugs off the touch. Not hostile, just tense. Prickly. ]

I'll handle it from here.

[ He can control himself. He can. He did with the voice, for so many years. ]

[He lets him shrug the hand off and settles next to him, tempted to smooth away the prickliness entirely, but instead just keeps up a low hum of calm to keep him centered and hopefully happy.]

Alright.

Do you want to talk about it? [Because he definitely does, but he's hesitant to push him into it if he really doesn't want to.]

If I do, will this last?

[ He fears that speaking anything aloud will give it more power. It will rear up and stop this smooth calm that he's feeling and break him this time.

Does it matter what started an avalanche, when it's time to try and survive it? ]

Yes. I can keep this up for as long as we talk.

[Really, he could probably keep it up for much, much longer than that, but he does want Zane to actually deal with the problem on his own at some point.]

[ He nods, once. ]

What first, then?

Where do you want to start?

I'm not sure I want to.

Start.

I've never felt anything like that.

Can you explain why it made you so upset? [He asks it carefully, because the answer's obvious, really, but he wants him to try to really articulate it himself, instead of relying on Charles to make educated guesses on what and how he felt about things.]

I tried to be better. And it just hurt.

I thought this was about feeling better too. Trying to be happy.

It is. But that doesn't happen overnight. I wish I could say it did. [And from the tired, knowing way he says it, he really means it. Both parts. He'd desperately wanted things to feel better, to be happy again, but he'd been struggling with what happened to him both back home and on the Barge for a long, long time after it happened. There were no quick fixes to these sorts of problems, and Zane had years to get over, not just months.]

I didn't expect it to.

[ He's crafted schemes that take months, years to play out fully. He's capable of subtlety, and capable of planning for long periods of time, and he knows he doesn't easily change. ]

Today still wasn't a good day.

I don't know how to feel about my father.

That's understandable. It's certainly complicated. [He knows it's not the same at all, but he does understand having mixed feelings about a parent. He didn't hate his mother, and he'd never really resented her, either, but at the same time...]

What's bothering you about it, specifically?

That I mourn him.

A man who, by all counts, deserved to die. Invited his own death. And I feel... lacking, without him.

Why?

Because he's been a part of your life for so long that it feels strange to realize that his opinion or plans don't matter anymore? [He offers it as a suggestion rather than an explanation, because he doesn't want it to seem like he's telling him how to feel, or suggesting he knows exactly what he's thinking.]

Edited 2013-06-15 01:38 (UTC)

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