gotta get down for a mingle

[redactions]

Who: The crew of the SS Heron and visitors.
Broadcast: nope.
Action: Aboard the SS Heron.
When: After returning to the ship.

[ finally back on the right ship, except the corridors are all mysteriously cold and the ship seems smaller. Thanks, Atroma. New crew, visitors, starters in comments ]

Comments

[touchofrogue]

[...so, that was a yes. She didn't need to ask him, didn't need to hear it, she saw it on his face.

And it hurt. It hurt to know that in another world, he could be coming right after her, just at the word of a superior. It infuriated her, the way her people were treated across the board. There was never any universe where they were cut a break -- she'd thought Tony's world was lucky, thought there weren't any mutants there, but now, no, it's just people with powers.

The leather of her gloves creaked with the pressure of her grip on her chair. She wanted to reach over and throttle him, but it wouldn't make a difference, it was too late now. And the words I hope you ask next time were right on the tip of her tongue, searing and contemptuous, and not enough, wanting to hurt him as much as she hurt: Or do ya need ta practice on me?]

Goddamnit, Jim.

[She looked away.

Because she couldn't say it. She wasn't blind. She saw his face.

She wasn't an idiot - she remembered his room, she remembered his heart, she knew him.

He must have believed he was doing the right thing. But it meant nothing, intentions, as she'd said, meant nothing. All she could judge was actions. And this was a lot to weigh in the balance.]

[redactions]

If you want to leave, no one will stop you.

[ His hands never shake when they pull the trigger, and so his voice is calm and even. What a fool, for thinking anything about this could be easy. The only thing that ever had been was knowing the target, and ending it. That was all. The rest — it got messy. In the end he's no better off than the Winter Soldier — SHIELD and HYDRA aren't that different. Or never were, depending on how far back the infiltration went. ]

I don't expect you to forgive me.

[ Sorry feels so out of place. It means little. She deserves better. This is what he has. ]

[touchofrogue]

One, [She said very quietly, because he still didn't see her, he still didn't know what was sitting across from him, gripping onto the chair for dear life.] if I wanted ta leave, no one could stop me.

Two, [And then she turned to look at him, glaring.] I ain't the one who needs ta forgive you.

[She took a shaky breath. Her next line was clear in her mind - one, two, three. But then she saw him. Saw him. And she couldn't sit still anymore.

It was a fluid movement, an uncoiling of a spring, standing, coming directly before him, and using whatever strength was needed to -- no, she couldn't quite do it, couldn't quite pull him into an embrace. Instead she held onto his shoulders and held his gaze and refused to look away from all that she saw there, and her heart broke. She wasn't God. She was nobody's judge. She was so angry that she wanted to be, but he wasn't the only one who deserved to fall under that hammer, and it wouldn't be right for him to take the whole of the blow. Her voice was quiet, just above a whisper.]

Ya did the wrong thing for the right reason.

[Truth was a scalpel. She hoped she made the right cut.]

[redactions]

[ There's a soft exhale, a stab wound, blood leaving the lungs. It hurts, but wounds heal over and don't leave scars on him anymore. No, he doesn't know what's in front of him; she's never been a thing. She thinks she is, but she loves and hurts like a person does. ]

[ And she's touching him like he's the one that needs comforting, and isn't that a cause for shame. Slowly, almost reflexively, Jim raises his left hand to ghost over her cheek, but drops it, and eases out of her grip, not breaking eye contact. ]

I know.

[ Known now, known for a while, the weight is the same. He never wants to face anything. ]

[touchofrogue]

[It always hurts when they pull away. It doesn't matter the reason. They always do, and it always hurts. She lifts her chin and lets him do it.]

Then ya know, an' now you've got a choice: Stay the same or change. Ya can't go back anymore'n I can. But I have seen your heart, Jim Barnes, an' I am tellin' you that you are more than dead trees an' wasteland. There's wick in you yet. An' I don't unsee the rest of it just because I see this too.

[Deliberately, she reaches out a hand and, moving very slowly, if he does not catch her hand and stop her, she will poke him right over his heart.] I see you.

[I trust you. This is now, and past is past, and she has always been very, very firm on that. He didn't get to have it so easy, he didn't get to drive her away with recounting his old sins so he could curl up and tell himself that he was ice and useless for anything else, that he was impenetrable and untouchable. Oh no. That was her shtick, thank you very much, and he was just going to have to deal with being accepted, not for what she wanted, but for what he was. It might take a little bit after this. But she wasn't going away, and he was going to have to deal.]

[redactions]

[ He does catch her hand, curling his fingers with hers. If he were the type he might've leaned forward to kiss at the gloved knuckles. It's not penance. That's not what's needed to move forward; James Barnes won't tolerate an iota of pity, he's just inured to it coming from himself. It's just — sometimes he wishes the wick would go out, so the rest of him could fall away and disappear. It's easier to rebuild from ashes than it is to save something that's crumbling. ]

You see it, or you recognise it?

[ There's a difference. ]

[touchofrogue]

[If there is a difference, Rogue isn't sure she sees it. She tilts her head slightly to the side in thought, regarding him closely and finding herself unable to read his expression. But he took her hand, and she let him hold it, and that was something.

Another moment's thought and then, simply:] Both, I think.

[The faintest flicker of a smile, almost a trick of the light on her face.] Ya gotta stop askin' me complicated questions.

[redactions]

[ Blame Natasha. ]

You're so much more than the monster you think you are.

[ Ironic, coming from him, but no less honest for it. ]

[touchofrogue]

[She reaches out and pokes his chest, meeting his gaze evenly. Her heart is still grieving, angry, broken.

It doesn't change anything. She still believes in him.] Takes one ta know one.

[redactions]

Does it.

[ He owes her blood, his own is all he has, and he's too tired to fight, even with her. ]

[touchofrogue]

[He is still holding her right hand, and now she rests her left flat against his chest, over his heart. This is more connected, physically, then she has been with anyone for a long, long time, except Loki who has protected himself from her with a shield for almost as long as she's known him. Jim is not protected from her, and part of her wonders if he's doing this, letting her do this, because he doesn't want to be -- because he doesn't care of she slips and ends him by holding on too long because of the guilt and shadow, pain and ice. She hopes it's not that. She hopes it's the opposite trust she is offering him right now.

First, she gives him another flicker of a smile, not forgetting that the hand holding hers has the blood of her people, others like just like her whether or not they're called mutants. It makes it harder, somehow, than forgiving the attempted genocide of a planet of monsters who are also living, breathing beings. Like she'd told Loki once: Death is personal.] Thousands of schoolyard taunts can't be wrong.

[The light on her face fades, expression becoming intent.] I don't have magic words for this. I can't make ya believe me. I can't make ya even wanna try. I can look you square in the eye an' tell ya that I see you. [She takes a breath, preparing. There is a word that is harder to say than love. She is not sure she can say it out loud, and her hand tightens on his slightly before she finds that... it is too hard. And in balance, it has next to nothing to do with him and everything to do with her. She can't say it. But she can say something else, something that approaches that truth from a different angle.] An' I believe in you. [Tempted to leave it just so, instead she leans forward in sudden passion, needing to clarify, to make sure he couldn't wiggle out of it:] In you. In the man who's tryin', who's still fightin'.

[redactions]

[ She's making a habit of touching him. This is either extremely good news or bad, he can't decide which. It doesn't make him feel very special — just singled out. He's not protected from her, and in his worse moments he honestly doesn't care. It's hard to when there's barely pieces of a person left anyway. ]

Kids can be cruel.

[ He saw Steve and others on the receiving end too long for it to be untrue. His fingers tighten when hers do, bearing the blow of the words. She has the right. She sees him. ]

You think he's worthy of your faith?

[touchofrogue]

[Special circumstances, at the very least. Her hand on his chest slides back to her side, though she allows him to continue to hold the other.] If I didn't, I wouldn't be doin' it.

[She shakes her head at him.] Ya already got a lot ta live with, Jim. Guess you're gonna have ta find a way ta live with this too.

[Her belief in him.]

[redactions]

[ Quietly, ]

It's one hell of an ultimatum.

[touchofrogue]

[Rogue shook her head.]

It ain't an ultimatum.

[Where was he even getting that from? In fact:] What do ya think I'm threatenin' ya with? Where are ya even gettin' that from?

[redactions]

[ Soft, ]

I don't know. I feel threatened. [ his perception of himself has been shaken ] Never said I wasn't messed up.

[touchofrogue]

[That... really bothered her, enough to pull her hand back from his as well. She wasn't threatening him. She wasn't. And after Steve the day before, these buttons were raw all over.

She tried to listen, to hear what he was really saying without judgement, but it was hard because part of her still felt like she should be threatening him. Part of her was still very angry with him over his choices indeed. The rest of her, in the place where Rogue chose to live, knew that she was in no position to cast stones.

Quietly:] No, ya didn't.

[And she takes a small half step back, palms open at her sides, unarmed, vulnerable.] An' I' guess you've got a right ta feel however ya do.

[Whatever I did... whatever I am... that wasn't my intention.]

[redactions]

[ Honesty hurts; this more so. It takes so much for her to be willing to touch someone, and he's pushed her away even now. Maybe she should stay away. All he ever seems to do is break things, and fall. ]

I didn't mean to hurt you.

[ It feels like an excuse, and still, he offers it. ]

I'm sorry.

[touchofrogue]

[Alright, well. She'd already told him that she wasn't the one who needed to forgive him so... was he talking about something else?

Rogue lifted her chin and met his gaze, but without any challenge in her own. She was trying to understand.]

I'm tryin' ta understand. You're sorry -- for followin' your orders? Or for feelin' threatened by me?

[She held up her gloved hands and then dropped them back to her side.] 'cause I ain't threaten' ya, Jim. An', hell, if my believin' in ya anyway is threatenin' to ya, then I don't know what ta say.

[Though her experience with pain was considerable, that reached beyond her borders.]

[redactions]

The latter.

[ His eyes drop, to his feet, but no, this isn't penance. He should look her in the eye. ]

Always hard when someone believes you're more than you are.

[ You're not supposed to confess your sins and receive loyalty and love in turn. That was the province of the divine, and of good men and women. The irony of the reverse roles isn't lost on him. ]

[ Steve would like her. ]

I've spent a long time knowing I was changed.

[touchofrogue]

[And this time, Rogue Heard him. She stepped back to him, but she didn't touch him. She just held his gaze. And she told him the truth.] Sometimes, I think it's easier ta think I'm a monster than it is ta think that I'm just like everybody else. But I've touched enough lives ta know that people aren't rock an' clay, Jim. People are a complicated mess. They can love an' hate, an' make wrong choices one minute an' right choices the next an' it ain't easy ta see who're the nightmares.

[She broke her gaze for a moment and looked away, her train of thought distracted by more truth.] I'm sorry that this is threatenin' ya, an' I'm sorry that ya did the things ya did.

[And then she looked back at him, squaring her shoulders slightly.] But I ain't sorry ya told me, an' I ain't sorry ta know ya. I'd rather know you in your mess, Jim Barnes, than the sweetest lie ya could tell me.

[redactions]

[ It makes his hands shake. What a novelty — the world can still surprise him with the same shade of kindness from so many people. It's poured into his veins, liquid and burning, and it hurts like nothing else in the world. ]

I need you to [ he takes a sharp breath ] not push this.

[touchofrogue]

I ain't sure how you think I'm gonna. [But she didn't miss his shaking hands. She didn't know what to do. She didn't know what had caused this.

He thought it was kindness; she knew it was pain. How many times had she been fooled by sweet lies? Rogue would rather have mess and pain and truth than be led by any path in deception.

She lifted both hands at her side and then dropped back, her brow furrowed.]

I need ya ta try an' tell me what that means. ['Not pushing it.' What does he think she is doing? What does he think she is going to do? Her voice gentles:] ...but maybe not now. Maybe ya need some space? Or just some company an' some quiet?

[Or even some distraction. She can do those things.]

[redactions]

[ Rough, ]

Space. Quiet would be — nice.

[touchofrogue]

Okay. [She still didn't move. This was not a rejection. It was not a goodbye.] Want me ta go or just find a quiet corner?

[Sometimes, she knew, when it got like this -- it was better to have company. Sometimes, she knew, it was better to be alone. In her experience, it was rarely better to be alone. But if she was causing this... maybe she'd better leave, entirely.]