(no subject)

[cutting_edgex23]

X slips out of the Staff hallway, stopping herself from heading out the back door by an effort of will.

If she is not comfortable in crowds she cannot go home, and she knows whoever purchased her trigger scent, they cannot have meant to catch just her on the platforms of the Paris Metro.

Especially not after drawing her attention to the fact that it was now a generalized trigger.

She takes a slow, careful breath, following it up with a second one.

Then, hesitant where usually she is certain, X makes her way to Bar to order dinner. She chooses a table in the most crowded area of the bar, afterward.

Just as a test.

If she occasionally clenches and relaxes her left hand, it only means she's stretching it out.

Right?

Comments

[noteful]

"Hello, Laura.

"How are you?"

[cutting_edgex23]

X does not startle, just flicks a quick glance up at Meg and presses her hands flat against the tabletop.

Just to make sure.

"Meg. I am -- "

She pauses, careful not to bite her lip.

" -- better."

'Okay' would be lying. And X does not lie to Meg. (Or to much of anyone, really. But still.)

[noteful]

Meg studies Laura for just a second and then takes the chair opposite hers.

"I'm glad that you're better."

First things first.

"Better than what?"

[cutting_edgex23]

X does not drop her gaze from Meg, but something about her attention turns inward.

It does not change at all while she is speaking.

"I told you. How the Facility made me kill my mother. I did not tell you how."

Her hands are pressing tightly enough to the tabletop to turn her skin white.

That is unlikely to change.

[noteful]

Meg settles her own hands on the table, loosely clasped, and nods.

And waits to see where this is going, until Laura is ready to continue.

[cutting_edgex23]

It takes her more than a few moments.

"There is a -- trigger. It -- I did not know how to fight it. Before."

Something of X returns to her gaze, bright and sharp and hot (and sad).

"They used it on me. Again. At home. I -- came here."

She breathes.

"No one is dead. But it has -- been bad. Difficult. I -- "

[noteful]

Meg suspects difficult is a bit of an undersell.

"Oh, Laura. I'm so sorry.

"But things are better? Maybe not okay or all right, but headed toward the better end of things?"

[hasthehighground]

Clint doesn't know X well enough to discern her mood, but there is an... air... of tenseness. It's enough to make him hesitate when he passes by her table on his way to the Bar, before he decides to go for it.

"Hey," he says. "I'm going to grab a coffee; you want me to pick something up?"

[cutting_edgex23]

"Clint."

X looks startled, that is the only word for it.

But once his question registers, a hint of tension in her shoulders relaxes. He is not prying. (Yet.)

"Milk. Would be good."

Beat.

"Thank you."

[hasthehighground]

Clint nods, easily, and heads off. He comes back a few minutes later with a tall glass of milk ("the kind X likes") and a mug of decaf coffee.

He pulls out a chair after setting her glass in front of her, and sits down. Mostly to look over the crowd and take a drink of coffee, but she's well within his peripheral vision.

[cutting_edgex23]

X pulls the glass a little ways toward herself, leaning forward to take a sip from the neon curly straw that came with it.

(Bar knows the little things.)

After swallowing, she flicks a quick glance in Clint's direction.

"You are -- okay?"

She could have asked if he was working. But 'okay' seemed easier.

In the moment.

[hasthehighground]

"Yeah," Clint says, after a moment's thought. "It was a paperwork day."

Paperwork and airplanes. The next two days will be planning, and the day after target neutralization. He's glad to be done with the paperwork.

"You?"

[cutting_edgex23]

X takes another careful sip of milk.

"I will be okay."

She just does not know if it will be soon.

(And she is not sure if it is relevant.)

"It is -- red tape? The paperwork."

X may pronounce 'red tape' as if it were a newly-learned foreign phrase. Because it kind of is.

[ellectrical]

If there's one good thing for Elle, it's that she's now consistently exhausted enough that she can sleep through... whatever time period she happens to be asleep. And even asks for coffee from the Bar when she's up again.

She notices X on her way up to the Bar, and for a moment, she does hesitate there.

But really. Who is she kidding.

A few moments later, she's taking the seat next to X's, the mug of coffee pressed between her hands.

[cutting_edgex23]

X does not startle, just clenches and unfolds her hand for a moment -- just to be certain -- then leans against Elle's shoulder.

Carefully.

"You are -- okay?"

It should be an easier question to ask, given how frequently she says it.

But these days are not like most others.

[ellectrical]

Elle leans back, and takes a sip of her coffee before answering.

"Yeah. I'm okay."

She's not lying, though Elle's become very good at manipulating herself.

[cutting_edgex23]

"Okay," X echoes.

Then, trying for a bit more certainty (and somewhat failing) --

"Good."

She does not fidget, at least.

That's -- something.

[ellectrical]

She shifts just long enough to put the mug on the table.

"What about you?"

[cutting_edgex23]

"I am -- better."

She flicks a glance at Elle, holding it for a few seconds.

"Thank you. I -- "

Beat.

"I will be okay."

[mjolnir_retriever]

Here's someone she knows, looking fresh as a daisy.

As usual. Asgardians, man.

[cutting_edgex23]

X watches him for a little while, taking deep, careful breaths.

Then, pitching her voice just loud enough to be heard by him --

"Thor."

[mjolnir_retriever]

Thor glances over without surprise, and with a small smile.

"X," he returns, and makes his way over to her table.

He'll sit unasked, unless she rises to meet him instead.

[cutting_edgex23]

If he chooses to sit in the chair adjacent to hers, she might lean against him for a second.

Sometimes it is easier than saying 'hello'.

[mjolnir_retriever]

Thor will lean back, companionably.

And then -- smoothly, but slowly enough to telegraph the movement -- he slings an arm around her shoulders, just long enough for a brief half-hug.

"Already, you do better," he says, releasing her.

[cutting_edgex23]

X's eyes widen, just a little.

(She might be surprised.)

But it is still -- comforting.

So that is okay.

Except --

"I do not think it is enough. Yet."

It would be better if it were. But years of conditioning cannot be undone in a day. Or even a week.