milliways_bar | (no subject)

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X slips downstairs after her shift in the nightclub, half-glancing at the back door before she decides to forgo training for the moment.

It is more important to eat something. Just in case.

The fact that X-23 (and her soup) are settled at the bar instead of her usual booth is entirely unrelated to anything.

Except that she refuses to be uncomfortable in what is, for now, her home.

This is just proof of that.

[ooc: This post is open until it falls off the front page or X gets another EP, whichever comes first. Thanks!]

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X offers a slight shrug.

"Yes."

Beat.

"Duo is okay, too?"

Trowa nods.

Duo makes his continued existence and well-being known with lots of emails. If Trowa were anyone else, he would consider them obnoxiously frequent.

But, hey, it means he can nod with certainty!

"Good."

X sounds sure of that.

"Heero is also okay?"

Heero, on the other hand, does not believe in conversational spamming. But Duo would mention if he wasn't.

So: "Yeah."

"Your friends are too?"

X shrugs.

"I do not know."

Beat.

"They do not come here."

If by friends Trowa meant teammates.

It'll work.

He doesn't ask why she hasn't been back. Even if he wonders. Just glances at her, and nods.

And takes a set on an empty barstool. (There's another one empty between them. Milliways isn't too crowded tonight, and Trowa defaults to lots of personal space.)

"Do you live here?"

X nods.

"Now."

Beat.

"The Institute was destroyed. At home."

. . . That doesn't sound good.

Trowa's expression doesn't really change. But he's listening closer, now, and his head tilts fractionally.

X just looks at him.

"My team was disbanded."

Beat.

Beat.

"It is okay."

If Trowa were someone else, there are questions he'd ask here. Questions like, is it really? and what does that mean for you?

But he's Trowa.

And he understands keeping things close.

(And he remembers being alone. Even if he doesn't project.)

So all he says is, "Peacefully?" after a silence to consider that.

X thinks about that a little bit.

"Julian was hurt. Badly."

Beat.

"And Caliban is dead."

So . . . probably not.

Trowa's not the kind of person for empty pleasantries, so he just nods.

There's a kind of sympathy there, if you're looking for it.

X shrugs again.

"No one else is dead."

That is important.

"Good."

He means that.

X nods.

"Yes."

She knows.

Not much else to say to that.

For Trowa, anyway.

He doesn't need to. They agree, and they know it, and what's done is done and can't be changed.

(It's probably a good thing that no one in Trowa's world has discovered time travel.)

X's world has it.

She does not like it much.

It always seems to result in things that try to kill her. And her friends.

It'd probably result in something similar for Trowa, sooner or later.

Saving the world is a stupid hobby to have, really. And yet.

The silence stretches. Trowa doesn't mind. (Trowa rarely minds.)

It's a few minutes later that he asks, "Will you go back?"

She doesn't have to answer.

Or know the answer.

"Yes."

Beat.

"I do not know when."

Trowa accepts that.

He probably would in any case. But this he understands.

Sometimes you need time.

X falls silent.

But she does not look away.

Trowa doesn't mind that, either.

He orders soup too, after a minute. He doesn't specify, so he gets chicken noodle.

Maybe it's a gesture. Or maybe he's just hungry.

Bar's a better cook than his sister, anyway.

X, in what may be a gesture of solidarity, orders a glass of milk.

She sips it carefully.

And apparently she's watching Trowa eat.

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