Tommy and Illyana | Backdated to 8/15
Aug. 15th, 2017 06:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ax_magik posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
ax_mainAfter the mission planning meeting with Xavier, Illyana finds Tommy out on the roof.
It had taken her a while to find Tommy after the meeting. Well, it had taken her a while, first, to realize she probably should find Tommy - her initial instinct had said that if he wanted to be alone, she should let him. On the other hand, sometimes she didn't actually want to be alone when she thought she did, so she figured she'd give him the choice.
But then it had taken a while to find him. While her and Clarice's resonating theory should theoretically work on people as well as places, she didn't quite have the hang of finding anyone other than Kitty yet, so in the end, she'd popped off to Limbo (fortunately calling a disk that would take her to the catacombs beneath it rather than anywhere more likely to draw attention) and scryed for his location.
She'd smacked her head when she realized where he was. She should have thought to have tried the roof.
A quick pop into an unattended gas station had provided the bottle she held in her left hand when she appeared not far away, but not close enough (hopefully) to startle him. "Hey. Want company?" she asked, only the corner of her mouth quirking up a notch. "I brought gifts." In addition to the bottle, there was a plastic shopping bag looped over her arm. After all, he'd brought stuff for her and Kitty. Fair was fair.
When Xavier had first called him in to the office Tommy had figured it would be about sneaking into the girls’ dorm. Or pissing off Summers. Or ignoring his homework. Or the whole ‘sonic boom’ issue. The conversation about the Facility-
(Fuck it. It didn’t deserve capital letters, even in his head.)
- the stupid-ass lab – had caught him more off-guard than he’d been in a long time. And the memories hadn’t been so easy to shake off this time.
-
Once the professor had let him go, he’d started running. He’d made it as far as Salem Center before he’d slowed down, before he’d stopped. And he’d thought about the others walking into the labs unprepared for anything they’d find. About lab coats and shackles, and Kitty and Illyana – JP and Remy – with needles in their arms.
And he’d turned around and come back, hating himself for it all the way.
So no, talking to someone was not high on his list of things he felt like doing right now. Sitting on the wall, legs dangling over the edge, he’d watched the stepping disc form and contemplated flinging himself over the side – see if he really could outrun gravity. And once again, he hadn’t followed through.
“Sure,” Tommy drawled, his knuckles white on the stone. “That’s why I came up here – I was burning for a social life.”
"I figured." Illyana tried to smile, failed, and instead sat down next to him and unscrewed the top from the bottle of Mixed Berry wine. Without taking a drink (though honestly, it didn't sound like a bad idea), she handed it to Tommy. "But I also figured you might want some supplies." She took a breath. "If you want me to go, I'll go. I just...sometimes when I think I want to be alone, I really don't. I thought it might be the same."
“You’re thinking too damn much.” That came out snappy, a whip-crack of a reply. He wanted- he wanted to take the bottle, sure, make all the bad and sour inside vanish for a little while. And then he’d be no better than Frank, with his six-pack of empties. “Why would I need anyone’s help?”
"Because it sucks?" Illyana took the bottle back, took a drink from it herself, and then put the cap back on.
If she was anyone else he’d say ‘what the hell would you know about it’ and be done. Except she did know. He didn’t know exactly what she knew, or what her life had been before she’d rolled up at Xavier’s, but it sure as hell hadn’t been Kitty’s suburban white picket fence, or Worthington’s high society money.
“Yeah, it does,” he said instead. “But talking isn’t going to make that any different.”
"I didn't say you had to talk, did I?" She wouldn't blame him if he didn't want to - she suspected he'd already said far more, in the meeting, than he had since it had all happened. Illyana leaned back on her hands to look out over the grounds. Green and lush, even in the growing darkness, and so different from anything she remembered. Somehow, the memories of the time with Ashake, with Cat - all of those had receded, until they were hard to draw out and only surfaced when she wasn't looking for them.
Fine, so she wasn’t going to make him talk. He was good with that. Great, even. He’d spent a lot of hours in the past staring down therapists and social workers who’d wanted him to process his feelings. The joke was on them; he’d been dead inside for years.
The sun had started to set a while ago, the colours leeching out of the sky as the darkness seeped in. He still had time to leave, or to find the labs and turn them to rubble before anyone else got hurt. (He should have done that the first time, but he’d just bailed himself out and left the buildings standing. His fault again.) Tommy stared out towards the horizon instead, his mind buzzing angrily and his stomach tight.
She was going to have to say something. Tommy obviously didn't want to talk - she didn't blame him - but she wasn't sure they could really just sit here forever. That she could. Sitting, and looking out over the grounds...she felt antsy herself, wanted to go, get away from the general feeling of awkwardness, of alienation. Of things that should be taken for granted, but which she couldn't.
"I hate not knowing what to say," she said aloud, as much to break the silence as anything, but it was true. "I never know what I'm supposed to say, and I hate it."
“I thought we weren’t going to talk.” He didn’t want his ruffled feathers smoothed, or all the sharp and pokey angles rubbed away. Keeping everyone at a distance was better, a road safe in its familiarity. He did reach out for the bottle, since she was holding it near his hand anyway. Serve her right if he drank it all.
Illyana glanced over at him, visibly hurt. "Sorry. I wasn't -" She shook her head and handed him the bottle. "Nevermind." She turned back towards the horizon, pulling her knees in so she could lean forward against them.
Fuck. How was he the jerk now, when all he’d wanted was to escape the bullshit of evenings in the student lounge? He swigged from the bottle without wiping it off, the sickly sweet stuff stinging where he’d chewed the inside of his lip raw before. “There isn’t anything to say, anyway.” It was a concession, an olive branch as best as he knew how. “Shit happens. Sometimes the shit doesn’t stay in the past like it should.”
Illyana didn't bother to look up. She'd fucked up already, just by trying to open up - one more reason why she shouldn't, should have known better. But...he had, and she had to. Maybe he'd get it. Finally, after a few long moments, she said quietly, "I know," and glanced over towards him. "He wants me to teleport everyone out, if something goes wrong. I can't."
Tommy wasn’t the guy you went to if you needed someone to blow smoke up your ass, less so about things like powers he’d never seen. So there was something up. “Too many people?” he guessed. “Or is this about the time travel question you kept dodging?”
"Yes? Or...no. Not really." He'd realized, then, that she was dodging his questions - she'd thought so, but she hadn't been positive. Illyana chewed at her lip, closing her eyes for a moment, then reopened them. "Both, kinda. But mostly...if I do? Everyone's going to know everything." It sounded overdramatic, she knew, and braced herself for Tommy to laugh. But it was true.
Did time-travel-teleporting need a psychic link? Holding hands and chanting magic spells? Fucked if he knew. What mattered was that it was something she didn’t want exposed, whatever ‘everything’ actually was. “So we don’t get into a position to need it.” Simplest answer. He’d rather just blow the fucking place up from outside, but that wouldn’t get Xavier the answers he swore he needed to keep other kids safe.
Stupid goddamn Xavier.
“That or you spill it in advance so it’s not a surprise anyone can hold over you. But that’s never my first choice.”
"It's not mine, either." Illyana sighed and pushed her hand back through her hair, then shifted a little, moving her other hand against Tommy's so that her fingers brushed against his. Don't get in a position to need it. Hopefully, it would be that easy, but she doubted it. Things never were. "I really do hate not knowing what to say. I wasn't saying that to try to get you to talk. You know that, right?"
“Sure?” The conversation was going into a weird space, and Tommy had no immediate response to that. Her hand was warm against his, though, and the faint press of contact tugged on him like a magnet to the north. “So what do you want from me, Yana?” The question came out quieter and gentler this time, the weight of the day pressing down on him from all different directions.
What did she want from him? Illyana paused to consider the question, one she honestly couldn't remember having been asked before. People had pretty much always decided for her, whether she wanted them to or not. She didn't want him to talk, not unless he wanted to. She wasn't altogether sure she wanted him to listen, either - she'd said what she needed to say, and even if she'd wanted to tell him the rest (and part of her did, much to her surprise), she realized this wasn't the best time for it.
Which left...what? Illyana chewed at her lip, then slipped her hand into his and tugged to get him to turn towards her. There was one thing she wanted, before tomorrow, before the very real possibility that she'd have to teleport everyone to Limbo and face the fact that he likely wouldn't want to, after that. And so, without saying anything, she reached up and urged his head down towards hers, and leaned in and kissed him.
So this was a thing that was happening. Tommy put two and two together about the point when she sank her fingers into his hair, and he had a little bit of time to consider the situation. Had she somehow found out that he’d tried to run, and was this some kind of ploy to make sure he didn’t? Because it was a pretty good way of making sure he stayed put.
What was it with girls and rooftops, anyway? His last kiss had been a lot like this as well—except it had been juvie instead of mutant boarding school, Lisa instead of Illyana, and her lips had tasted like the joint they’d been passing back and forth instead of the sweet berry wine. (Yeah, it was probably fair to say that he had a type.)
And just like Lisa, once Tommy hit the road again he wouldn’t hear from Illyana, either.
So what the hell. No, really – why not? She was smoking hot, was the one to make the first real move so he didn’t have any worries about whether she wanted to be there, and if everything went to shit tomorrow they’d either be dead or on the run. Live fast, die young, etc etc. He had the first part of that down pat.
All that thinking, and they were only most of the way toward making contact. Tommy let her pull him in, closed his eyes, and when she kissed him, he kissed her back.
Kitty was right. It was just as simple as Pretty Little Liars made it look.
Encouraged, Illyana let the kiss linger just a little longer before pulling back, her face warming as she smiled a little and shrugged. "I couldn't think of anything else I wanted," she admitted, her fingers toying with his hair.
She still couldn't, though she wouldn't complain about more of the same. She could, very easily, get used to this, she realized. Which wasn't a good thing, probably - it wouldn't last, any more than anything else in her life had. Still, for the moment, at least, she really didn't care.
One of the mixed blessings of Tommy’s powers was the time scale thing. Time moved differently, he couldn’t change that. But moments like this, when a single kiss could feel like it had gone on forever, made up for a lot of the less comfortable things. And even once she pulled away she kept her hand on him. He tipped his head against her fingers for a moment, soaking in the sensation of being petted.
“If you’re still not feeling that creative, I’m good with going again,” he offered, a smile finally working its way out onto his face. It beat the hell out of worrying about the morning.
He was smiling. At her.
Illyana's smile brightened in response, and she laughed - a light, carefree laugh, because just now, she wasn't worrying about getting it right, or what might happen later, or tomorrow. Right now, Tommy was tilting his head into her fingers, and smiling. At her. And for the moment, at least, she felt like she actually mattered.
It was a really, really nice feeling.
"Creativity's not really my thing," she admitted with a crooked shrug and a grin that bordered on teasing. "But yeah. I wouldn't mind doing that again, either."
It was the best offer he’d had in a long time. But they were still sitting on the wall, exposed to anyone who might be walking by in the grounds below – or taking a flight over the school.
Tommy swung his legs back over and dropped to his feet, tugging Illyana’s hand to bring her with him. Sitting on the roof with his back against the half-wall gave them a little more privacy, not to mention stability. “Falling off the school’s not on my top-ten list of things to do with my evening,” he explained. Not anymore it wasn’t, anyway. “C’mere.” And he tugged at her hand again.
Illyana's forehead had furrowed as Tommy had tugged her down, until she'd realized what he was up to. Right. Not sitting on the edge would probably be a good plan, especially when there were other options readily available. "What is on your top-ten list?" she asked quietly as she let him pull her down to join him, then grinned a little. "Still looking for solitude?"
He shifted to face her better, her legs all but tucked up under his knee. “Distractions work too.” He slipped his hand into her hair, the long strands like silk between his fingers. And like she’d done to him a moment before, he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. Yep; distractions were definitely what he needed. Warm, soft girl ones especially welcome.
Mmmmm, that was nice. Illyana sighed contentedly against Tommy's lips and returned the kiss, reaching up to rest her hand on his shoulder. "I can do distracting," she said when they finally broke apart, her lips quirking up as she stroked her fingers over his shoulder and down his arm. "Anything else?"
Which would be about the moment his brain started to short-circuit, imagining all kinds of interesting options. There was a bottle of wine in play here somewhere as well, but he’d momentarily lost track of where he’d put it down. “Depends on how distracting you feel like being. This could take a while.”
"I don't have plans." Illyana shrugged and offered a tentative, only slightly nervous smile. Not that she was afraid of Tommy - she wasn't - but she was well aware that watching TV shows and movies with Kitty wasn't exactly a match for experience.
Even with a lot of his blood no longer anywhere near his brain, Tommy could pick up on the shift in her mood, the way she tensed. Maybe a little more slowly than he normally would have, but still. At least he caught on before he did anything stupid. And he hadn’t done anything stupid yet, which maybe meant... “You haven’t done this before,” he guessed, curling a lock of her hair around his finger. “Messing around, I mean.”
"That obvious?" Illyana tilted her head towards his hand, enjoying the sensation of his fingers playing with her hair, but her face warmed even as her expression turned a bit sulky. "I thought I was doing okay."
Ahhh, shit. “Believe me, I have zero complaints. Absolutely none,” he vowed quickly, scrambling to regroup. “And if you want to fool around some more, I am totally here for that. Completely one-hundred-percent on board. But only as far as you want to go.”
And...that was the crux of the problem, wasn't it? Illyana's lips quirked up in a crooked, awkward smile. "And if I don't know how far I want to go?" Because...well, she liked this. A lot. Unfortunately, a lot of TV shows scheduled a lot of convenient commercial breaks before things got much farther.
Tommy liked to think of himself as living in a grey area – he knew that he was no hero, and he wasn’t ready at all to embrace the idea of being a villain. At least there were still some moments where the right thing to do was clear. “Then we stick to this until you know. No regrets that way.” And he tugged gently on the hair still wrapped around the crook of his knuckle.
Illyana studied Tommy's face, trying to determine if he actually meant that, or if he was just saying it. Not that it would change anything, she guessed, but it was hard to believe that he was actually willing to let her decide. She couldn't detect any sign that he didn't mean it, though, and she smiled as she shifted in closer beside him. "So, can we get back to distracting? Before I say anything else stupid?"
That answer didn’t require any hard decision-making at all. “Hell yes.”
Despite lingering butterflies zipping around in her stomach, Illyana laughed. "That's decisive," she teased, and leaned in to brush her lips over his.
“I took a few minutes to mull it over,” he teased her right back. His pulse kicked into high gear for about the fifth time today, only for much more fun reasons than ‘panic’ or ‘sheer condensed terror.’ What did he do with his hands? Not on her waist, or she might think he was going for the grope anyway. He settled for keeping the one cupping the side of her face, the other propping him up on the cool stone of the roof.
"Speedster powers. So unfair." Once she'd said it, though, Illyana wondered whether or not it was true. Granted, he had more time to think things over - but he also had way more time to worry about things, or get upset over them.
She'd have to try it sometime, she decided as she cupped her hand around the back of his neck and leaned in to kiss him, slowly. Casting spells on yourself wasn't generally a good idea, but an hour or so sped up couldn't hurt anything. Right?
“It has its moments.” Like this, for instance, when everything felt slow and lazy. Tantric, even. Cool.
*** Some time later ***
Feeling warmer than she could justify, considering they were up on the roof, and more than a little breathless, Illyana reached up to finger Tommy's hair back from his face and tilted her head, studying his eyes. "Feeling better?" she asked, a smile playing at her lips.
She hoped so. She knew she was. But then, there was a chance she'd make it through the next day with her secrets intact. She didn't think Tommy had that possibility.
“If I say yes, does that mean we have to stop?” He tipped his head to follow her touch, a faint echo of her smile touching his lips as well. It probably did; it was getting late and while he didn’t have any problem getting caught up on the roof with her (maybe they’d kick him out before tomorrow, and that would solve a lot of problems all at once), she probably wouldn’t be so thrilled at the idea.
He sat back, tucking his arm around her and resting his chin on her shoulder. “I dunno,” he answered honestly after a moment to consider his options. “Ask me that tomorrow afternoon.”
"Fair." She'd remember to, she promised herself. She snuggled back against him, but chewed at her lip, thinking. There was something she wanted to ask, but she wasn't at all sure she should. Or how he'd react.
"Can I ask a question?" she said finally. She grimaced a little, then shrugged. "If you don't want to answer, just say so. Either way, no, we don't have to stop." If the Professor had a problem with them being out on the roof this late, he could...well, she supposed he couldn't come yell at them, but he could pop into Tommy's head and tell them to get down, or something. She didn't really care. She wasn't in any real hurry to go back inside.
Part of Tommy bristled, the rest too caught up in the taste of her still on his lips, on the weight of her against his arm to slam up all his defenses. “Sure,” he said after the silence had hung there for what felt like forever. It had probably only been a second. “But if I answer it, then at some point I get to ask you something too.” Not that he had any questions in mind right then, but it wasn’t a bad idea to have the promise in his back pocket.
Was that fair? On the one hand, she was pretty sure she knew that answer to her question, which meant she was just getting a confirmation. One she probably didn't need, but...she wanted to know. She wasn't even sure why she was worried about Tommy, exactly, but she was.
Whatever had happened to him had sucked. Big time. That much she could see, had known since he'd evaded questions about his stay in the infirmary. She was almost sure there was more to it than that, but...that far, she wasn't willing to pry. He was entitled to his secrets, too.
On the other, if she was going to get an answer, it was only fair to give him one in return, no matter how much she didn't want to. Maybe it would be better to just get it over with, before she got too attached.
Except she was pretty sure she was getting attached already.
"Fine," she grumbled, then took a deep breath and exhaled. "The...on your arms," she said, trusting he'd be able to figure out what she meant, despite lack of coherence. "And the detox in the infirmary you mentioned. From there?"
He’d figured it would be something like that. “Yeah,” he admitted, and rubbed his forearm self-consciously, fingertips finding the raised scars. Larger ones, from when he’d fought back against the ports; ones that had almost vanished now, that he hadn’t been awake for at all. “No spilling, though. I don’t want to lose my street cred.”
But that wasn’t enough of an answer to satisfy her, was it? “Xavier told you some of it already. I was there for three months, as near as I can figure, and they shot me up with all kinds of shit. I have no idea what. They wanted to turn me into a weapon.” He told the story like it had happened to someone else, keeping his distance, keeping numb. It sounded clean that way, almost rational. It was better not to think about any of the rest. “Breaking out stopped them for a while, but Xavier’s right—it won’t have stopped them for good.”
"Nothing ever stops them when they're determined to use you." She said it quietly, and glanced down at the non-existent scar on her arm. The one that should have been there, marking what she'd done to herself, but which wasn't because Belasco didn't want it there. She wondered, sometimes, if it would have been better to have something visible, to be something other than the perfect pastel princess he'd wanted as an apprentice. It wasn't as if the scar didn't exist, just because it couldn't be seen.
Belasco'd known that, too.
She reached over, though, and squeezed Tommy's arm. He'd answered - no, more than answered her question - she hadn't expected him to do more than say yes or no, and she had an idea of how much that had cost him. "No spilling. I promise."
It was hard to get back into his own head after deliberately taking a step back out of it, so his expression was distant when he looked down at her. “Thanks. I figure some of it will be all over the school by tomorrow night anyway, assuming we make it back. Stuff like that doesn’t stay quiet for long.” There had been cameras, but where was the footage? Off site? Still there? How much of what had been done to him was stored there in encrypted files, just waiting for Kitty to work her geek magic?
And did he want to know what was on it if it was? Deeply debatable.
Illyana squeezed his arm again, then settled back against his shoulder and closed her eyes. Tommy was probably right - it would be all but impossible to keep things quiet if they got information from the building. Assuming, as he said, that they made it back.
She frowned at the thought. "Why wouldn't we make it back? She turned her head to peer back at him. "I may not want to teleport everyone out, but if it's a choice between that and dying, I'm not an idiot."
And if the choice came between dying and getting locked down again? Tommy forced the thought away. Not going there. Not ever. “Who said anything about dying?” he bullied through the moment, wrapping his bravado around him like the reliable shield it was.
“We could just take off once Xavier has his all-important intel. Go back to Disney and hit the rides this time -- you’ve got the Rapunzel thing going already,” he teased, hoping like hell his voice sounded casual instead of forced. “If you’re going to teleport us somewhere, we may as well take the chance to get out of homework.”
"I could be talked into that," Illyana conceded with a trace of a smile. It sounded like a lot of fun, actually, and the only thing keeping her from jumping on the idea was the knowledge that if she did have to teleport them out, Tommy likely wouldn't want to go. She'd worry about that when and if, though, not right now. "Summer school sucks, and I'd like to see how a roller coaster compares to super speed." She grinned. "Bet the seats are more comfortable."
“Ouch!” Tommy took his arm off her and folded them behind his head instead, leaning himself back against the brick, the cool air filling in where the warmth of her body had been. “Find your own way there if you don’t like the ride, teleporter.”
"Oh, be nice or I'll teleport you there with me," Illyana retorted, elbowing him in the ribs. She leaned back against the wall and stared up at the sky. "Too bad we can't just blow it off and go now." Except if they did, Kitty'd undoubtedly still go on the mission, and wouldn't have an automatic exit strategy available. She wasn't sure she was okay with that, either. Still, it sounded pretty good, otherwise.
I almost did. But he wasn’t going to admit that, not to her, not to anyone. Sure, Xavier and Tessa could probably pick it right out of his mind, but that was on them if they didn’t like what they saw. “Nah,” he said instead, staring ahead across the roof. “I said I’d do it. Besides,” he scoffed, pulling on all the confidence he didn’t feel. “You guys would be lost without me.”
"I wouldn't be. I'd be in Orlando with you," Illyana pointed out sulkily. She sighed and closed her eyes. "Tomorrow, after. Right?"
Tommy made a non-committal sort of noise, and let the conversation fall into silence. There was no way at all to predict what they were about to run into, and he wasn’t about to make promises that he wouldn’t be able – or around – to keep.
It had taken her a while to find Tommy after the meeting. Well, it had taken her a while, first, to realize she probably should find Tommy - her initial instinct had said that if he wanted to be alone, she should let him. On the other hand, sometimes she didn't actually want to be alone when she thought she did, so she figured she'd give him the choice.
But then it had taken a while to find him. While her and Clarice's resonating theory should theoretically work on people as well as places, she didn't quite have the hang of finding anyone other than Kitty yet, so in the end, she'd popped off to Limbo (fortunately calling a disk that would take her to the catacombs beneath it rather than anywhere more likely to draw attention) and scryed for his location.
She'd smacked her head when she realized where he was. She should have thought to have tried the roof.
A quick pop into an unattended gas station had provided the bottle she held in her left hand when she appeared not far away, but not close enough (hopefully) to startle him. "Hey. Want company?" she asked, only the corner of her mouth quirking up a notch. "I brought gifts." In addition to the bottle, there was a plastic shopping bag looped over her arm. After all, he'd brought stuff for her and Kitty. Fair was fair.
When Xavier had first called him in to the office Tommy had figured it would be about sneaking into the girls’ dorm. Or pissing off Summers. Or ignoring his homework. Or the whole ‘sonic boom’ issue. The conversation about the Facility-
(Fuck it. It didn’t deserve capital letters, even in his head.)
- the stupid-ass lab – had caught him more off-guard than he’d been in a long time. And the memories hadn’t been so easy to shake off this time.
-
Once the professor had let him go, he’d started running. He’d made it as far as Salem Center before he’d slowed down, before he’d stopped. And he’d thought about the others walking into the labs unprepared for anything they’d find. About lab coats and shackles, and Kitty and Illyana – JP and Remy – with needles in their arms.
And he’d turned around and come back, hating himself for it all the way.
So no, talking to someone was not high on his list of things he felt like doing right now. Sitting on the wall, legs dangling over the edge, he’d watched the stepping disc form and contemplated flinging himself over the side – see if he really could outrun gravity. And once again, he hadn’t followed through.
“Sure,” Tommy drawled, his knuckles white on the stone. “That’s why I came up here – I was burning for a social life.”
"I figured." Illyana tried to smile, failed, and instead sat down next to him and unscrewed the top from the bottle of Mixed Berry wine. Without taking a drink (though honestly, it didn't sound like a bad idea), she handed it to Tommy. "But I also figured you might want some supplies." She took a breath. "If you want me to go, I'll go. I just...sometimes when I think I want to be alone, I really don't. I thought it might be the same."
“You’re thinking too damn much.” That came out snappy, a whip-crack of a reply. He wanted- he wanted to take the bottle, sure, make all the bad and sour inside vanish for a little while. And then he’d be no better than Frank, with his six-pack of empties. “Why would I need anyone’s help?”
"Because it sucks?" Illyana took the bottle back, took a drink from it herself, and then put the cap back on.
If she was anyone else he’d say ‘what the hell would you know about it’ and be done. Except she did know. He didn’t know exactly what she knew, or what her life had been before she’d rolled up at Xavier’s, but it sure as hell hadn’t been Kitty’s suburban white picket fence, or Worthington’s high society money.
“Yeah, it does,” he said instead. “But talking isn’t going to make that any different.”
"I didn't say you had to talk, did I?" She wouldn't blame him if he didn't want to - she suspected he'd already said far more, in the meeting, than he had since it had all happened. Illyana leaned back on her hands to look out over the grounds. Green and lush, even in the growing darkness, and so different from anything she remembered. Somehow, the memories of the time with Ashake, with Cat - all of those had receded, until they were hard to draw out and only surfaced when she wasn't looking for them.
Fine, so she wasn’t going to make him talk. He was good with that. Great, even. He’d spent a lot of hours in the past staring down therapists and social workers who’d wanted him to process his feelings. The joke was on them; he’d been dead inside for years.
The sun had started to set a while ago, the colours leeching out of the sky as the darkness seeped in. He still had time to leave, or to find the labs and turn them to rubble before anyone else got hurt. (He should have done that the first time, but he’d just bailed himself out and left the buildings standing. His fault again.) Tommy stared out towards the horizon instead, his mind buzzing angrily and his stomach tight.
She was going to have to say something. Tommy obviously didn't want to talk - she didn't blame him - but she wasn't sure they could really just sit here forever. That she could. Sitting, and looking out over the grounds...she felt antsy herself, wanted to go, get away from the general feeling of awkwardness, of alienation. Of things that should be taken for granted, but which she couldn't.
"I hate not knowing what to say," she said aloud, as much to break the silence as anything, but it was true. "I never know what I'm supposed to say, and I hate it."
“I thought we weren’t going to talk.” He didn’t want his ruffled feathers smoothed, or all the sharp and pokey angles rubbed away. Keeping everyone at a distance was better, a road safe in its familiarity. He did reach out for the bottle, since she was holding it near his hand anyway. Serve her right if he drank it all.
Illyana glanced over at him, visibly hurt. "Sorry. I wasn't -" She shook her head and handed him the bottle. "Nevermind." She turned back towards the horizon, pulling her knees in so she could lean forward against them.
Fuck. How was he the jerk now, when all he’d wanted was to escape the bullshit of evenings in the student lounge? He swigged from the bottle without wiping it off, the sickly sweet stuff stinging where he’d chewed the inside of his lip raw before. “There isn’t anything to say, anyway.” It was a concession, an olive branch as best as he knew how. “Shit happens. Sometimes the shit doesn’t stay in the past like it should.”
Illyana didn't bother to look up. She'd fucked up already, just by trying to open up - one more reason why she shouldn't, should have known better. But...he had, and she had to. Maybe he'd get it. Finally, after a few long moments, she said quietly, "I know," and glanced over towards him. "He wants me to teleport everyone out, if something goes wrong. I can't."
Tommy wasn’t the guy you went to if you needed someone to blow smoke up your ass, less so about things like powers he’d never seen. So there was something up. “Too many people?” he guessed. “Or is this about the time travel question you kept dodging?”
"Yes? Or...no. Not really." He'd realized, then, that she was dodging his questions - she'd thought so, but she hadn't been positive. Illyana chewed at her lip, closing her eyes for a moment, then reopened them. "Both, kinda. But mostly...if I do? Everyone's going to know everything." It sounded overdramatic, she knew, and braced herself for Tommy to laugh. But it was true.
Did time-travel-teleporting need a psychic link? Holding hands and chanting magic spells? Fucked if he knew. What mattered was that it was something she didn’t want exposed, whatever ‘everything’ actually was. “So we don’t get into a position to need it.” Simplest answer. He’d rather just blow the fucking place up from outside, but that wouldn’t get Xavier the answers he swore he needed to keep other kids safe.
Stupid goddamn Xavier.
“That or you spill it in advance so it’s not a surprise anyone can hold over you. But that’s never my first choice.”
"It's not mine, either." Illyana sighed and pushed her hand back through her hair, then shifted a little, moving her other hand against Tommy's so that her fingers brushed against his. Don't get in a position to need it. Hopefully, it would be that easy, but she doubted it. Things never were. "I really do hate not knowing what to say. I wasn't saying that to try to get you to talk. You know that, right?"
“Sure?” The conversation was going into a weird space, and Tommy had no immediate response to that. Her hand was warm against his, though, and the faint press of contact tugged on him like a magnet to the north. “So what do you want from me, Yana?” The question came out quieter and gentler this time, the weight of the day pressing down on him from all different directions.
What did she want from him? Illyana paused to consider the question, one she honestly couldn't remember having been asked before. People had pretty much always decided for her, whether she wanted them to or not. She didn't want him to talk, not unless he wanted to. She wasn't altogether sure she wanted him to listen, either - she'd said what she needed to say, and even if she'd wanted to tell him the rest (and part of her did, much to her surprise), she realized this wasn't the best time for it.
Which left...what? Illyana chewed at her lip, then slipped her hand into his and tugged to get him to turn towards her. There was one thing she wanted, before tomorrow, before the very real possibility that she'd have to teleport everyone to Limbo and face the fact that he likely wouldn't want to, after that. And so, without saying anything, she reached up and urged his head down towards hers, and leaned in and kissed him.
So this was a thing that was happening. Tommy put two and two together about the point when she sank her fingers into his hair, and he had a little bit of time to consider the situation. Had she somehow found out that he’d tried to run, and was this some kind of ploy to make sure he didn’t? Because it was a pretty good way of making sure he stayed put.
What was it with girls and rooftops, anyway? His last kiss had been a lot like this as well—except it had been juvie instead of mutant boarding school, Lisa instead of Illyana, and her lips had tasted like the joint they’d been passing back and forth instead of the sweet berry wine. (Yeah, it was probably fair to say that he had a type.)
And just like Lisa, once Tommy hit the road again he wouldn’t hear from Illyana, either.
So what the hell. No, really – why not? She was smoking hot, was the one to make the first real move so he didn’t have any worries about whether she wanted to be there, and if everything went to shit tomorrow they’d either be dead or on the run. Live fast, die young, etc etc. He had the first part of that down pat.
All that thinking, and they were only most of the way toward making contact. Tommy let her pull him in, closed his eyes, and when she kissed him, he kissed her back.
Kitty was right. It was just as simple as Pretty Little Liars made it look.
Encouraged, Illyana let the kiss linger just a little longer before pulling back, her face warming as she smiled a little and shrugged. "I couldn't think of anything else I wanted," she admitted, her fingers toying with his hair.
She still couldn't, though she wouldn't complain about more of the same. She could, very easily, get used to this, she realized. Which wasn't a good thing, probably - it wouldn't last, any more than anything else in her life had. Still, for the moment, at least, she really didn't care.
One of the mixed blessings of Tommy’s powers was the time scale thing. Time moved differently, he couldn’t change that. But moments like this, when a single kiss could feel like it had gone on forever, made up for a lot of the less comfortable things. And even once she pulled away she kept her hand on him. He tipped his head against her fingers for a moment, soaking in the sensation of being petted.
“If you’re still not feeling that creative, I’m good with going again,” he offered, a smile finally working its way out onto his face. It beat the hell out of worrying about the morning.
He was smiling. At her.
Illyana's smile brightened in response, and she laughed - a light, carefree laugh, because just now, she wasn't worrying about getting it right, or what might happen later, or tomorrow. Right now, Tommy was tilting his head into her fingers, and smiling. At her. And for the moment, at least, she felt like she actually mattered.
It was a really, really nice feeling.
"Creativity's not really my thing," she admitted with a crooked shrug and a grin that bordered on teasing. "But yeah. I wouldn't mind doing that again, either."
It was the best offer he’d had in a long time. But they were still sitting on the wall, exposed to anyone who might be walking by in the grounds below – or taking a flight over the school.
Tommy swung his legs back over and dropped to his feet, tugging Illyana’s hand to bring her with him. Sitting on the roof with his back against the half-wall gave them a little more privacy, not to mention stability. “Falling off the school’s not on my top-ten list of things to do with my evening,” he explained. Not anymore it wasn’t, anyway. “C’mere.” And he tugged at her hand again.
Illyana's forehead had furrowed as Tommy had tugged her down, until she'd realized what he was up to. Right. Not sitting on the edge would probably be a good plan, especially when there were other options readily available. "What is on your top-ten list?" she asked quietly as she let him pull her down to join him, then grinned a little. "Still looking for solitude?"
He shifted to face her better, her legs all but tucked up under his knee. “Distractions work too.” He slipped his hand into her hair, the long strands like silk between his fingers. And like she’d done to him a moment before, he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. Yep; distractions were definitely what he needed. Warm, soft girl ones especially welcome.
Mmmmm, that was nice. Illyana sighed contentedly against Tommy's lips and returned the kiss, reaching up to rest her hand on his shoulder. "I can do distracting," she said when they finally broke apart, her lips quirking up as she stroked her fingers over his shoulder and down his arm. "Anything else?"
Which would be about the moment his brain started to short-circuit, imagining all kinds of interesting options. There was a bottle of wine in play here somewhere as well, but he’d momentarily lost track of where he’d put it down. “Depends on how distracting you feel like being. This could take a while.”
"I don't have plans." Illyana shrugged and offered a tentative, only slightly nervous smile. Not that she was afraid of Tommy - she wasn't - but she was well aware that watching TV shows and movies with Kitty wasn't exactly a match for experience.
Even with a lot of his blood no longer anywhere near his brain, Tommy could pick up on the shift in her mood, the way she tensed. Maybe a little more slowly than he normally would have, but still. At least he caught on before he did anything stupid. And he hadn’t done anything stupid yet, which maybe meant... “You haven’t done this before,” he guessed, curling a lock of her hair around his finger. “Messing around, I mean.”
"That obvious?" Illyana tilted her head towards his hand, enjoying the sensation of his fingers playing with her hair, but her face warmed even as her expression turned a bit sulky. "I thought I was doing okay."
Ahhh, shit. “Believe me, I have zero complaints. Absolutely none,” he vowed quickly, scrambling to regroup. “And if you want to fool around some more, I am totally here for that. Completely one-hundred-percent on board. But only as far as you want to go.”
And...that was the crux of the problem, wasn't it? Illyana's lips quirked up in a crooked, awkward smile. "And if I don't know how far I want to go?" Because...well, she liked this. A lot. Unfortunately, a lot of TV shows scheduled a lot of convenient commercial breaks before things got much farther.
Tommy liked to think of himself as living in a grey area – he knew that he was no hero, and he wasn’t ready at all to embrace the idea of being a villain. At least there were still some moments where the right thing to do was clear. “Then we stick to this until you know. No regrets that way.” And he tugged gently on the hair still wrapped around the crook of his knuckle.
Illyana studied Tommy's face, trying to determine if he actually meant that, or if he was just saying it. Not that it would change anything, she guessed, but it was hard to believe that he was actually willing to let her decide. She couldn't detect any sign that he didn't mean it, though, and she smiled as she shifted in closer beside him. "So, can we get back to distracting? Before I say anything else stupid?"
That answer didn’t require any hard decision-making at all. “Hell yes.”
Despite lingering butterflies zipping around in her stomach, Illyana laughed. "That's decisive," she teased, and leaned in to brush her lips over his.
“I took a few minutes to mull it over,” he teased her right back. His pulse kicked into high gear for about the fifth time today, only for much more fun reasons than ‘panic’ or ‘sheer condensed terror.’ What did he do with his hands? Not on her waist, or she might think he was going for the grope anyway. He settled for keeping the one cupping the side of her face, the other propping him up on the cool stone of the roof.
"Speedster powers. So unfair." Once she'd said it, though, Illyana wondered whether or not it was true. Granted, he had more time to think things over - but he also had way more time to worry about things, or get upset over them.
She'd have to try it sometime, she decided as she cupped her hand around the back of his neck and leaned in to kiss him, slowly. Casting spells on yourself wasn't generally a good idea, but an hour or so sped up couldn't hurt anything. Right?
“It has its moments.” Like this, for instance, when everything felt slow and lazy. Tantric, even. Cool.
*** Some time later ***
Feeling warmer than she could justify, considering they were up on the roof, and more than a little breathless, Illyana reached up to finger Tommy's hair back from his face and tilted her head, studying his eyes. "Feeling better?" she asked, a smile playing at her lips.
She hoped so. She knew she was. But then, there was a chance she'd make it through the next day with her secrets intact. She didn't think Tommy had that possibility.
“If I say yes, does that mean we have to stop?” He tipped his head to follow her touch, a faint echo of her smile touching his lips as well. It probably did; it was getting late and while he didn’t have any problem getting caught up on the roof with her (maybe they’d kick him out before tomorrow, and that would solve a lot of problems all at once), she probably wouldn’t be so thrilled at the idea.
He sat back, tucking his arm around her and resting his chin on her shoulder. “I dunno,” he answered honestly after a moment to consider his options. “Ask me that tomorrow afternoon.”
"Fair." She'd remember to, she promised herself. She snuggled back against him, but chewed at her lip, thinking. There was something she wanted to ask, but she wasn't at all sure she should. Or how he'd react.
"Can I ask a question?" she said finally. She grimaced a little, then shrugged. "If you don't want to answer, just say so. Either way, no, we don't have to stop." If the Professor had a problem with them being out on the roof this late, he could...well, she supposed he couldn't come yell at them, but he could pop into Tommy's head and tell them to get down, or something. She didn't really care. She wasn't in any real hurry to go back inside.
Part of Tommy bristled, the rest too caught up in the taste of her still on his lips, on the weight of her against his arm to slam up all his defenses. “Sure,” he said after the silence had hung there for what felt like forever. It had probably only been a second. “But if I answer it, then at some point I get to ask you something too.” Not that he had any questions in mind right then, but it wasn’t a bad idea to have the promise in his back pocket.
Was that fair? On the one hand, she was pretty sure she knew that answer to her question, which meant she was just getting a confirmation. One she probably didn't need, but...she wanted to know. She wasn't even sure why she was worried about Tommy, exactly, but she was.
Whatever had happened to him had sucked. Big time. That much she could see, had known since he'd evaded questions about his stay in the infirmary. She was almost sure there was more to it than that, but...that far, she wasn't willing to pry. He was entitled to his secrets, too.
On the other, if she was going to get an answer, it was only fair to give him one in return, no matter how much she didn't want to. Maybe it would be better to just get it over with, before she got too attached.
Except she was pretty sure she was getting attached already.
"Fine," she grumbled, then took a deep breath and exhaled. "The...on your arms," she said, trusting he'd be able to figure out what she meant, despite lack of coherence. "And the detox in the infirmary you mentioned. From there?"
He’d figured it would be something like that. “Yeah,” he admitted, and rubbed his forearm self-consciously, fingertips finding the raised scars. Larger ones, from when he’d fought back against the ports; ones that had almost vanished now, that he hadn’t been awake for at all. “No spilling, though. I don’t want to lose my street cred.”
But that wasn’t enough of an answer to satisfy her, was it? “Xavier told you some of it already. I was there for three months, as near as I can figure, and they shot me up with all kinds of shit. I have no idea what. They wanted to turn me into a weapon.” He told the story like it had happened to someone else, keeping his distance, keeping numb. It sounded clean that way, almost rational. It was better not to think about any of the rest. “Breaking out stopped them for a while, but Xavier’s right—it won’t have stopped them for good.”
"Nothing ever stops them when they're determined to use you." She said it quietly, and glanced down at the non-existent scar on her arm. The one that should have been there, marking what she'd done to herself, but which wasn't because Belasco didn't want it there. She wondered, sometimes, if it would have been better to have something visible, to be something other than the perfect pastel princess he'd wanted as an apprentice. It wasn't as if the scar didn't exist, just because it couldn't be seen.
Belasco'd known that, too.
She reached over, though, and squeezed Tommy's arm. He'd answered - no, more than answered her question - she hadn't expected him to do more than say yes or no, and she had an idea of how much that had cost him. "No spilling. I promise."
It was hard to get back into his own head after deliberately taking a step back out of it, so his expression was distant when he looked down at her. “Thanks. I figure some of it will be all over the school by tomorrow night anyway, assuming we make it back. Stuff like that doesn’t stay quiet for long.” There had been cameras, but where was the footage? Off site? Still there? How much of what had been done to him was stored there in encrypted files, just waiting for Kitty to work her geek magic?
And did he want to know what was on it if it was? Deeply debatable.
Illyana squeezed his arm again, then settled back against his shoulder and closed her eyes. Tommy was probably right - it would be all but impossible to keep things quiet if they got information from the building. Assuming, as he said, that they made it back.
She frowned at the thought. "Why wouldn't we make it back? She turned her head to peer back at him. "I may not want to teleport everyone out, but if it's a choice between that and dying, I'm not an idiot."
And if the choice came between dying and getting locked down again? Tommy forced the thought away. Not going there. Not ever. “Who said anything about dying?” he bullied through the moment, wrapping his bravado around him like the reliable shield it was.
“We could just take off once Xavier has his all-important intel. Go back to Disney and hit the rides this time -- you’ve got the Rapunzel thing going already,” he teased, hoping like hell his voice sounded casual instead of forced. “If you’re going to teleport us somewhere, we may as well take the chance to get out of homework.”
"I could be talked into that," Illyana conceded with a trace of a smile. It sounded like a lot of fun, actually, and the only thing keeping her from jumping on the idea was the knowledge that if she did have to teleport them out, Tommy likely wouldn't want to go. She'd worry about that when and if, though, not right now. "Summer school sucks, and I'd like to see how a roller coaster compares to super speed." She grinned. "Bet the seats are more comfortable."
“Ouch!” Tommy took his arm off her and folded them behind his head instead, leaning himself back against the brick, the cool air filling in where the warmth of her body had been. “Find your own way there if you don’t like the ride, teleporter.”
"Oh, be nice or I'll teleport you there with me," Illyana retorted, elbowing him in the ribs. She leaned back against the wall and stared up at the sky. "Too bad we can't just blow it off and go now." Except if they did, Kitty'd undoubtedly still go on the mission, and wouldn't have an automatic exit strategy available. She wasn't sure she was okay with that, either. Still, it sounded pretty good, otherwise.
I almost did. But he wasn’t going to admit that, not to her, not to anyone. Sure, Xavier and Tessa could probably pick it right out of his mind, but that was on them if they didn’t like what they saw. “Nah,” he said instead, staring ahead across the roof. “I said I’d do it. Besides,” he scoffed, pulling on all the confidence he didn’t feel. “You guys would be lost without me.”
"I wouldn't be. I'd be in Orlando with you," Illyana pointed out sulkily. She sighed and closed her eyes. "Tomorrow, after. Right?"
Tommy made a non-committal sort of noise, and let the conversation fall into silence. There was no way at all to predict what they were about to run into, and he wasn’t about to make promises that he wouldn’t be able – or around – to keep.
no subject
Date: 2017-08-20 08:36 pm (UTC)