driftfleet | though it hurts to breathe

Entry tags:

though it hurts to breathe

Who: Raven, Hank, Charles and Erik
Broadcast: No
Action: On the Heron
When: Now onwards!

[ It had taken her a little while to calm down with Hank at her side, long enough that she's practically itching to make her way over to the Heron as soon as she can, device in her hand - the temptation to text ahead, to make sure they're really there, that they're okay, is almost a little too daunting and there's not much Raven can do other than force herself to stop. She's stronger than this, true, but coming out of the other side of something as horrendous as Apocalypse and standing tall, waking up on the Fleet, trying to figure out if she can handle it all again - it's too much.

The only thoughts in her mind are that she needs to find Charles, she needs to find Erik, and she needs to make sure they're alive, that they're safe, that they're here. This is going to be impossibly difficult for all four of them, Hank at her side, but they could work through it. They beat an all powerful mutant 'God', they came together as a family and they worked, hard, to make sure they all came out alive the other side.

What was the Fleet after all that?

It doesn't take her long to break away from Hank into a practical run as she reaches the Heron, a flash as she makes her way down the hall to find the other two mutants. Erik is important in her mind, of course, but her first instinct is to call out for Charles, standing outside the door and pressing her fingers against it, afraid for a moment that he won't answer, that he won't be there. The fear grips her, and her hands shake, but she does it anyway, knocking and calling for her brother.

After that, later... Well, she has to take time to calm down. Once she's sure Charles is safe, that Erik is safe, she can actually move to relax herself, the weight on her shoulders fading away. It takes time, but it happens, slowly... But she doesn't leave. She doesn't feel like she can leave either of them, and she wonders how they're going to handle that. ]

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[it's odd, how they're weeks from everything that happened and yet they're going through the motions again, staying close out of a deep, familial necessity. Logically, he knows everyone's fine - as fine as they were going to be, and yet his heart tells him otherwise, practically screaming that he has to keep everyone in his sight lest his worst fears are realized.

It makes him tense and incredibly on edge, and for a moment he debates overwhelming the serum to make it go away. He knows nothing is going to happen and yet that isn't enough anymore. Not when it's still all so fresh and mixed with what was. It's different from after the incident with Winter, more raw, a deeper, wider wound.

He breathes out and looks at her, letting his thoughts steer towards her instead, finally. Part of him doesn't want to talk. Another part of him doesn't think they have to. As she steps closer he turns towards her, as if it's natural - and in a way it is. To turn and welcome whatever affections she wants to give him.

Nothing comes, but he isn't surprised. He isn't sure if he can do it, either]

I know. I don't disagree.

[he watches her carefully before one shoulder lifts and falls, barely a shrug]

We can, if you want. [maybe talking now would be best, with them so emotionally drained that nothing can make it worse. Maybe it'd make it better instead]

[ It would probably be nice, Raven thinks, to focus entirely on Charles and Erik and their problems in order to ignore her own, to pretend that she and Hank don't need to discuss the changes they've undergone in such a short time. It's a huge problem for the two of them, but for the rest of the fleet... How long has it been? It's not as if they look any different, thanks to her mutation, and time hasn't really had the effect on her that it might have done if she was human. She looks the same, but everything inside of her is different.

Her arms cross over her chest, and she resists the urge to shift and move closer, but also to move away. She doesn't want distance between herself and Hank, but it's hard to rationalise the fact that she both wants to be close to him and in his arms and miles away at the same time. Waking up beside him had been hard enough, especially with the intensity and the fear, but now she feels small, and foolish, and oddly out of place.

Perhaps one of the worst parts is that she doesn't know what to say. She doesn't know what words are the right words to make this all better, and she's not good with them in the way that Charles could be, sometimes, or how Hank had been on the lawn at the mansion. He had made her aware of the power she held, but she had been to ashamed and too afraid to accept it at the time.

Breathing out, she frowns before her hands lift to rub at her eyes. She might have been asleep for who knows how long but she's completely and utterly exhausted - drained, as if she was in the ruins of Cairo again, waiting for the end to come, losing all her hope despite everything she had given.

Finally, her eyes turn back to Hank and she frowns, expression fallen. ]

Don't you think we should? Do you want to? [ Maybe he doesn't. Maybe ten years was too long, and this is it - she had missed it completely. She had promised to come home, but it had been far, far longer than she had ever imagined, and suddenly it feels like her heart is in her throat, even as she tames her expression and keeps it neutral. ] We don't have to.

[he doesn't have to look in a mirror to know that nothing has changed, nothing worth noting. Like ten years hasn't passed at all, and all he did was decide to style his hair another way. At least, on the outside nothing had changed. As he frees a hand from his pocket to rub at the side of his neck, he can still feel the scar there, from what felt like a lifetime ago now.

But ten years has given him a different perspective, a greater ease at speaking - though the difficulty when it came to voicing his own wants was still there, as terrible as always. It hadn't been a concern in a long time, because it hadn't mattered. Raven was who knows where and while he thought about her every day, wanting her to come home had changed from heartache to a distant pang.

Maybe that's why it's easier to remember their old promises, whispered in the privacy of their room. Maybe that's why he feels like they don't have to talk about it, at least not for his sake. It hasn't changed, and he kept one of those promises as fiercely as they'd made it to one another. He'd fought for her, just like he said he would.

Her expression falls and already he knows he said the wrong thing, but it's not a panicked fear anymore - he's too wrung out for it to take its usual hold. Instead, the hand at his neck drops for a moment, before he holds it out to her, head tilted to look at her]

I don't think we have to. [he may as well be honest about it, and if there's a little bit of hope in his voice, well. He knows how he feels, amidst all the complicated feelings. But he doesn't know how she feels. If maybe she'd found someone else, in the time she'd been away.

It's a gamble to assume. It's a gamble to state something so plainly. But he's certain in his heart] Nothing's changed for me. I told you - I promised you it wouldn't, and I meant it. And I kept one of our promises already.

So if you want to talk . . . [a shrug, again] We can talk.

[ Raven had been preparing herself for something like rejection, some kind of dismissal - as if the years hadn't been as kind to their emotions as she'd hoped and that, maybe, Hank had found someone else. He was a teacher now, after all, and probably second only to Charles. She can imagine the students thinking he's hot and when they graduated - or if there were older, more mature students... Maybe he could have fallen in love with someone else. It wasn't entirely impossible; he'd fallen in love with her, once.

It would be easy to assume that nothing had changed, that their hearts hadn't - because hers hadn't. For the last ten years Hank has been in the back of her mind as a constant reminder of all the things she might be able to have, if she went home one day, and she had been tempted so many times - she can remember it now. Ten years of waiting for the right time to go back, to see if she could make a place for herself in Charles' new world, and it had taken the literal Apocalypse to make her capable of being able to step through the doors again.

When Hank speaks, it's almost too hard to look at him; she doesn't want to turn her head to him and feel as though the wind is going to be swept out from under her. She's already so tired, so desperately exhausted, and the idea of somehow losing him while gaining a family... It's as if she has to choose between two extremes. She just doesn't think she's lucky enough to be able to have it all - she doesn't deserve it.

Hank holds out his hand, and all Raven can do is stare. ]

Hank - [ But she stops, not wanting to interrupt him. He goes on, and on, and she feels a sudden well of hope build inside of her, wide eyes searching his face, uncertain of what she's looking for - but when she finds it she knows. It's his determination, and it's as if she's wrapped up in something warm and incredible, and when she moves closer her hand finds his without her even thinking about it. It just feels right, and she knows her cheeks must be flaring red - there's no blue skin to hide it now. ]

Oh. [ He'd kept all their promises, and so had she, and both of them were uncertain about the other. It's silly, really, and a little unfair on both their parts, but Raven moves closer, lifting her free hand to let her fingers graze against his cheek. There's nothing she can do but stare at him for a moment before she smiles, expression softening into something warm and open - there's no more doubt, no more fear, no more uncertainty. Ten years was long enough - she never wants to be apart from him again. ]

I kept mine, too. All those years and I never even looked at anyone - I didn't want anyone else.

[ Shaking her head, she leans up, drawing him close. ]

Maybe we don't need to.

[ And then she's kissing him, because there's nothing in the world she wants more right now. ]

[a part of him has to marvel that he said the right words, that they didn't come out stuttered and uncertain, but quiet and sure. Unlike after Cuba, he hadn't bothered to rehearse what he would say when she came home. Then again, he hadn't expected another ten years to pass, but - it doesn't matter now. It still hurts a little, and he doesn't know when that will go away, but he'll bare the pain knowing that she's home. That she did come back home, and that she was here now, and -

Nothing had changed.

This is what he had pictured, whenever he imagined the moment she finally came home. Her hand finding his, his fingers curling tightly around hers - easily going with her pull to lean in and kiss her back. They say longing makes the heart grow fonder and he could only think how painfully true that was.

He'd taken a gamble and he'd been right, and this is what they hadn't managed yet back home. This hadn't fallen into their routine, and yet here it made perfect sense. His hand grips hers and his free one comes up to cup her cheek, and he kisses her with a warmth he forces out of the darkness. He could give a damn that it's in the middle of the Heron's hallway, that Erik or Charles could walk out at any moment, that someone else could catch them - he just doesn't care.

He waited ten long, patient years for this]

[ There's no point denying what she wants anymore - or trying to deny the way she feels, how much she cares about Hank. A part of her thinks she ought to be a touch more careful, since Charles is right behind the door and can probably pick up on the overload of emotions, and considering how his relationship with Charles stands right now... But she doesn't have the energy to fight this, not anymore. She doesn't have the will to pretend she doesn't want to drown herself in Hank, and she can always apologise later.

Her arms wrap around him quickly, and she shifts, pressing herself against his body as she settles, tilting into the kiss. After ten years it feels like a sudden rush of intensity - and it's all just from one simple kiss, one single touch of his hand. Being bereft of this kind of intimacy does it's damage, she thinks, and she feels warm and happy as soon as she manages to slip herself closer, tilting her head to make sure that she can kiss him for as long as she wants.

A part of her is conscious about the fact that they're standing around in the middle of the Heron where anyone can walk in on them, but she doesn't care. Raven keeps kissing Hank because there's no other option, no one else she wants, no one else she even wants to think about right now, and with her hand moving to stroke through his hair gently all other thoughts tumble out the window to fall to the side somewhere, ready for her to pick up when she can think properly again.

Finally, though, she does lean back, not far enough away that she's out of his arms but enough so that she can look at his face, her thumb brushing over his jawline, her cheeks pink and her lips a little red from just how hard she'd kissed him. ]

So you're still my boyfriend, then.

[ It's impossible not to tease him after a kiss like that. ]

[he doesn't want the kiss to end; he wants to lose himself in it, let it drown out every single other thought in his head - but he knows he can't. He knows that this moment they're stealing won't last as long as they want it to, but it just means they can have others, when things have calmed down. And he knows he has to keep calm, controlled, because his thoughts aren't as quiet as he wants them to be and it isn't fair to his friend in the other room.

So when she pulls back he just shifts his hand to lace their fingers together, not wanting to let go just yet. He tilts into her hand and lets his thumb brush over her cheek, and he can't quite manage a smile but his expression is soft, open.

She teases and he feels the faint urge to fluster - like he used to, because it had still been a new thing, putting words to what they had. And now - it was just as new, only the word they had seemed inappropriate. Like it didn't quite fit the right way. They were too old for it, for one, and the thought almost makes him laugh]

I wasn't aware I stopped.

[I mean, it's true]

[ It is true, and Raven pauses for a moment, thinking it over, and then she bursts into laughter, leaning to press her head against Hank's shoulder. It is true - it's not as if they'd broken up, and they hadn't agreed to be on any kind of break or say that they weren't together. Time just happened and they were forced to leave it for a little, that's all. She had never stopped wanting to be around him, wanting to be near him, wanting him, and she'd never stopped loving him.

Being the age that she is, however, and knowing how old she's grown in the last few years does make her wrinkle her nose ever so slightly. It was an odd feeling when she had been in her twenties but now it feels strange and juvenile to say that she had a boyfriend - but was any other word good enough? Hank was her boyfriend, her romantic interest, her... Well, other half, so to speak, and it was the best word that people might understand if asked. Trying to think of something else just seemed petty and ridiculous.

Leaning into all the gentle touches, Raven breathes out softly, closing her eyes and smiling. The worry slips away, and suddenly all the pieces feel as though they've connected and, yes, she can relax. Hank is here and she hasn't lost him, hasn't lost their connection, their relationship, and another horrible nightmare fades into the background. ]

It had been ten years. You might have changed your mind.

[ Or, you know, not, but she leans up to give him a quick kiss anyway. ]

[hearing her laugh does make him smile, shaky around the edges but more than he's managed without forcing it since they got home. As she leans into him he threads his fingers through her hair and just - breathes her in, relishes in having her so close, finally, and some of the tension eases from his shoulders. Not all of it, not for a while, but enough.

He vaguely wonders if they're going to have to talk about what to call themselves now. It's such a ridiculous thought that he huffs a quiet laugh into her hair before she pulls away to look at him again]

Not once. [he had no reason to] I don't break my promises.

[ For anyone else this would be ridiculous and the two of them would be unable to rationalise being together again, but the gulf of ten years apart is almost painfully familiar for her and Hank now; it's almost ridiculous to think that they're used to that kind of distance being between them. It is what helped forge their connection on the Fleet, though, so Raven can't be as frustrated and hurt about it as she could be, all things considered.

Leaning up, she nudges her nose against his as she tilts to give Hank another kiss, and then another, and then she tilts her head back and softens herself, trying to reign in her emotions. She's still ever so slightly aware of her surroundings, and she doesn't want to end up embarrassing either of them. ]

No, I know that. I did - I do.

[being affectionate like this - it's strange and familiar, another way his head and heart ache, but he doesn't stop her. He welcomes it, despite knowing it's a little inappropriate, doing this in the hallway of a ship they don't even live on. He sighs quietly when she leans back and he smiles at her again, then simply rests his forehead against hers.

It's okay to simply enjoy this, he tells himself. It's okay to be a little selfish, just for a minute longer]

I'm just reminding you.

[ Everything else fades away for the moment, and if anyone comes up and interrupts them or tries to scold them for their intimacy... Well, Raven can just tell them that it's been ten years since they were this close, and to go and mind their own goddamn business. For someone who had once been as tender in their affection as Charles had been she's used to intimacy from the people she loves, and it's been something she's missed.

They're here, sharing a moment, and it's fine because they're together - and, as always, she's hyper alert. ]

Will you keep reminding me for the rest of my life?

[honestly, he'd probably beat her to it, with an apology and a polite "get the hell out of here", because he's been waiting for this for too long to stop now. He's allowed to be selfish every once and a while, and this is that moment he's allowing himself. If someone doesn't like it, well - that's just too bad.

He's just as alert as she is, but it's not out of habit. It's out an almost obsessive, protective need. Sitting in the back of his mind]

If I need to.

[ It doesn't really register in Raven's mind, at least at first, the depth of this new promise; for the rest of her life. Given how young she looks now that lifespan could be far, far longer than anyone else could guess, and the idea of being with Hank for the rest of it... It's not as frightening as it might have been twenty years ago, when she was young and rebelling against being locked down and hidden away. Now it's a choice, one she wants to make, and his reply makes her tilt up and smile.

Mostly, she's just happy. She's here, and Hank loves her, and when she leans up to kiss him he'll kiss her back. When she touches him he'll reach out in return, and when she goes to bed he'll be there, too, as if nothing has changed. Everything's changed, of course, but having that constant, that reminder, that hope - it soothes her rattled spirit. ]

That's a big promise you're making, Hank McCoy.

[it's a big promise with strong connotations of something far more serious, and yet he doesn't care. He means it, with all his heart. Now that she's back, now that they're together, he's hard pressed to let her get that far, and only if she has to]

Those are the only promises I tend to make. [he rarely promises anything he doesn't mean, after all]

[ Raven isn't complaining, and Hank must be aware of the fact that she's teasing him gently rather than balking at the long-term commitment; she's promised to stay at the mansion now, and it's her home, with the X-Men and her brother and the other students. She's committed to the place, so why wouldn't she offer the same olive branch to the man she loves, too? It is a little daunting, a little frightening, but that's more because of the fact that she's used to being alone all over again - having company, having Hank, is going to take some getting used to.

She leans up, though, before she pauses, fighting the urge to throw herself at him and not let go. ]

I'll promise to remind you as well, then. If you forget.

[ Which is her own way of saying - yes, she's sticking around. Here, or at home; this is it. Hank is it. ]

[he wouldn't forget, but he doesn't say that. Old fears of losing memories, forgetting important things - those are long gone, but he knows what he's saying. He understands, and he won't say otherwise, even to tease. Instead he leans down to meet her, kissing her gently. One last kiss, before he figures they should get back to being properly . . . something]

All right. We'll remind each other.

[another promise, made in a moment of intimacy]

Edited 2016-09-04 01:43 (UTC)

[ And, suddenly, everything feels okay again. Behind the door Charles is waiting for her, and while she knows he's not even half as put together as he seems she also knows that he doesn't want them to see it, not yet. Whatever is happening between him and Erik is going to take time and a lot of hurt to work through, and all she can do is be by his side, no matter what, to make sure that he has someone to take care of him.

She can be the sister, the teacher, the hero, the girlfriend. She can manage it all, and it doesn't feel as heavy as it used to. Instead, it feels like a challenge, and she's never been able to ignore something like that.

(Raven is sure Charles is going to have something to say about lifelong promises to your boyfriend, though, and she's definitely embarrassed to consider it). ]

I like the sound of that.

[ Hand dropping to find his, Raven squeezes gently... Before her hand falls away and she realises that there's something in her pocket. Blinking, she turns her head down and then laughs, covering her mouth. ]

[not everything feels alright to him, but this does, and it's a big chunk of worry he doesn't have to shoulder. Between Charles and Erik, and - whatever it is that will be between them, and the worries he'll have about home despite knowing time has likely stopped - not having worry about Raven is a relief. They're on the same page and instead of tiptoeing around one another, they can go right back to being each other's support. Something he knows they'll both need, as things settle and the next day comes. Because it's going to be a day to day thing for a while, he thinks.

He squeezes her hand before it falls away - and furrows his brows as she starts laughing] What's so funny?

[ It feels almost ridiculous to be back here, and tugging the wrapped up metal out of her pocket doesn't help. She remembers organising it before she'd fallen into the sleep, and the fact that it's still there... It's ridiculous. It shouldn't be this easy but it is, and her eyes dart up to look at Hank before she softens and reaches for his hands, pressing the metal into his palms. ]

I bought you this ten years ago.

[ Moving her hands away, she smiles as she reveals the small metal pocket watch. ]

It seems silly now.

[it doesn't seem silly at all, is what he wants to say, but the words won't come. Instead he's left grasping for words, even a simple thank you. He remembers, very vividly, the frames, the flowers, the blanket - the gifts he'd given her on the hand-holding planet and he hadn't expected anything in return. Would have argued if she'd brought it up.

So of course she went and did it anyway.

He shakes his head and closes his fingers around the watch tightly, and takes a moment to find his voice. It's such a simple gesture and yet it isn't simple at all. After ten years, it means so much more]

It's not - it isn't silly. [he leans in to kiss her, quick and soft] Thank you.

[ It wasn't even about the flowers or the photos, Raven thinks. She remembers going out and trying to find something perfect for him, wanting to ask Erik for help, wanting to get something nice but also useful and practical... It feels like a lifetime ago, and now she's pink cheeked, embarrassed by the simplicity of her youth. A watch is nice, but it's hardly flowers and photos.

It was a present because she loved him. A present because she wanted to see him smile - because she cared.

She's not exactly relieved when Hank accepts it, but she does feel warm and bubbling, and she tilts up into the kiss, cupping his cheeks with both her hands before she leans back. He's beautiful, she thinks, and she draws him down for another, then another. ]

You're welcome. It's inscribed.

[ For Hank, with all my love. ]

[he catches inscription between her kisses and it makes his heart skip in his chest, and he can only imagine what it had been like if he'd gone home with it. But he doesn't let that thought stray too far, because it leads to things he hasn't even begun to handle. A death he never quite mourned properly, and something he needs to do when he finally feels like he can be alone.

So instead he accepts her kisses with a faint smile. Gifts were rare - he and Charles weren't in the habit of it, and he'd received his fair share of things from the students but this was different. This was something he'd keep with him all the time, much like the book he had seen still sitting on its shelf. Something cherished, a reminder.

I love you, too, he thinks, but those are difficult words to say, even in the best of times. So instead he just wordlessly draws her close to rest his head against hers, for one last, intimate moment between them]

[ There's no real need to say the words aloud anymore and Raven thinks they both know it; even before it had been a rare occurrence, said in moments of real desperate emotion or intensity, when they both needed to hear it, but now, here, like this... It's unspoken. They both know, and now that they're sure about their relationship... It's just not necessary. They're okay, and they know it now, and all of Raven's fears have been settled.

Raven had grown up being taken care of and supported by Charles, and giving and receiving presents wasn't unusual for her - they'd only had each other, after all, so birthdays and Christmases were always about the two of them sharing things with one another. It's different, now; their world has opened up and they're not isolated, tucked away in Westchester and ignored, and it means Raven has more people to care about - and she finds she wants to give them gifts, to show them how much she cares, because it's far easier than words ever were.

Relaxing into Hank's embrace again, she softens, closing her eyes. ]

I said I was going to get some blankets and clothes. Do you want me to get some for you?

[he does know it, even if he had struggled with it before - years ago (days ago). There's so many other words and ways to show it anyway, especially with them, when every moment they once shared was precious and special. He looked back on those instead, now, instead of the ruins of Cuba, or the longing after Washington. He went home certain about them and it never faltered, not once.

He shakes his head at her question, because he knows he isn't going to sleep. Not tonight, and maybe not tomorrow night either, and whatever sleep he will get will be accidental at best. No, he's going to sit and keep watch, until he's certain nothing is going to happen. Just like he did after Cairo. Only this time there's two doors to watch]

No, I'll be fine. But thank you.

though it hurts to breathe

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