2012-06-09: Trust Issues


Quenton_icon.jpg Shane_icon.jpg

Summary: Following the events of Welcome Back Q, Quenton attempts to apologize to Shane.

Date: June 9, 2012

Log Title: Trust Issues

Rating: PG-13

Xavier Mansion — Woods

Pine, Oak, Birch, and many other trees can be found in these woods. Paths lead all through out them for students to take walks. The occasional bench can be found along the paths. Students shouldn't worry about wandering too deep in these woods as its almost impossible for them to get lost here.

It's fairly easy to tell where Shane went; once outside, just ask the nearest person where the explosions came from, and once in the forest just follow the sound of creaking trees, settling dirt and, once close enough, spot the rim of the crater. At the center of the crater, hair tangled and windblown, wearing only boots, a sports bra, and bike short, Shane huddles, too tired to do anything but sniffle and shiver.

Quenton drops down at the latest explosion, sighing as he tosses his duffel bag into the dirt and begins to peel off his jacket, his eyes drifting over Shane a moment before he guiltily closes his eyes and then begins to float down until he's beside her, attempting to draw his jacket over her shoulders and crouch down next to her. "I didn't mean that's not why I'm with you. We can't even… have sex, that's not why I'm with you," he murmurs. "I'm with you because I like you. A lot."

Shane curls up in on herself, scraping the back of her hand across her eyes. Up close, her face is a mess; dust and dirt only partially cleaned, and partially muddied by tear-tracks. Silent for a long time, she stares at the scorched ground under her, finally murmuring a tired, sullen "…Oh yeah?"

"I'd do anything to prove it," Quenton mutters, crouching by Shane and settling his arms on his knees. "Hell, you… If you don't think I like you as much as I claim, you can leave me. I… will probably have to leave the school then, and fast, but…" He digs at his fingers, swallowing and glancing off in the distance.

"…You *hurt* me," Shane whispers, blinking up and meeting Quenton's eyes. "I *trusted* you and you *hurt me,* Q… How'm *I* s'posed t'know what you're really thinkin'…? You *know* me. You *know* how scared I was you'd do… *this.* 'N you did it anyway. 'N you did it first fuckin' thing after takin' off, 'n I didn't know you were comin' back…"

"I'm sorry. I… I lashed out. And I'm sorry. I… never wanted to hurt you, of all people." Quenton closes his eyes, then. He wants to touch her, to comfort her, but he stills his hand, curling it into a fist. "I… didn't know what to do. I didn't know how to react."

Shane sniffles. "…Why couldn't you've jus'… *told* me?" A dusty arm rises to scrape under an eye, but she doesn't drop her gaze. "…Figured you took off 'cos you were sick 'o dealin' with me. 'R maybe found someone you liked better… 'R maybe someone finally got t'ya… I didn't *know.* Didn't tell anyone cos it ain't their problem, but… Q, it's *me.* I ain't gonna figure it's okay, when there's a couple hundred ways it wouldn't be."

"I was… an idiot," Quenton admits, releasing a breath, before his arm moves to rest over her shoulders, over his jacket, lest she resists him again. "I'm sorry. I don't what to say. But no. It wasn't because I was sick of dealing with you, hell, I'm the… basket case in our relationship," he claims. "I'm the bad one. I'm sorry."

"Don't do it again," Shane whispers, squeezing her eyes shut and dropping her head. "Had *enough* o' trustin' people 'n bein' stupid for it. *Sick of it,* Q… Don't *ever* do it again." Tentatively, she leans to one side, another shiver running though her. "…Givin' you one more chance, Q… Mostly cos' I'd never've done that b'fore, 'n… tryin' t'get over it… …'Kay…?"

"I'm sorry," Quenton repeats, after a long moment of silence, while he watches Shane. "Okay. I won't. I won't do it again. I'll call every day. You'll know where I am. I'm sorry," he mumbles, while he moves to press his lips very -VERY- gently against her cheek.

Shane shudders again, drawing in an unsteady breath as the lips brush against her cheek. "Don't gotta do that," she murmurs, "just… 'f you gotta go? Tell me? Hell.. after helpin' Cale's sister… prolly wanna go with, y'know?"

"You… I was told about that. Nick told me about that," mumbles Quenton, his arm still against her, not daring to move it and hurt the human bomb. "I'm… sorry I wasn't here for you. I'm sorry about that, too."

Shane lifts a shoulder. "S'fine… 'S what I get f'rocket-jumpin' through a wall. Missed ya, 's all… woulda been a hell of a story t'tell ya, y'know?"

"Would have been hell of a story," agrees Quenton while he leans against her, though his fingers dig into the soil so that he's not forcing himself against her.

"…Maybe next time, won't have to tell each other?" Shane says, voice still strained and weary. By the look of it, she's expended all her energy for the evening on this temper tantrum. "Hey… there's a gym bag over there," she says, nodding her head toward the rim of the crater. "Too pissed t'change, but didn't wanna walk back in m'underwear."

"Deal," agrees Quenton, while his eyes slip over the girl, and he watches her before his eyes drift to the rim of the crater. He's hesitant, before he mutters, "I'll go and get it. Then uh… I'll turn around. You look good, though. I mean. Yeah. Well. Said that before." He rises to his feet and hops to the rim of the crater, grabbing the gym bag and jumping back down without any flashy acrobatics to place it gently in front of Shane.

Shane drags the bag in front of her and opens it, revealing fairly standard gym clothes; sweats and a Xavier's tee. The shirt is pulled over her head, then the boots are unbuckled and pulled off. "…Haven't done this f'r awhile," she mutters, clearing her throat to banish the lump. She falls silent, concerning herself with tugging the sweats on, then stands, bracing herself on Quenton, to get her feet into her boots. "…Didja get t'hit anything needed hitting, at least?"

"Pulled off your boots?" wonders Quenton, while he turns his face away, giving Shane some privacy, crossing his arms over his chest. "I wish," he then answers her question, while wetting his lips briefly with his tongue. "Did you… kill anyone?" he blurts out suddenly, eyes flicking to the walking bombs.

"No, been awhile since I hadda 'splosion tantrum," Shane murmurs, lapsing into an uncomfortable silence. "….Hope not," she says, much more quietly. "Mebbe's stupid, 'cos of what they did t'Cale's sister 'n the other one, but… Really just hopin' all I did was break bones. Didn't have time t'check, since there were like a dozen or so, 'n they all had guns…"

"I uh… I only killed people once. That time, when uh, Jake died," Quenton mutters, eyes drifting back off to the rim of the crater. "When I rage, I don't black out. I'm aware of what I'm doing. I can almost control it, just not as well as I'd like," he murmurs, quietly, eyes gazing at the sky then. "It felt good, though. Like justice was being done." He finally has the gall to look back at the green-haired girl. "I missed you alot, on the road." After a beat. "That uh… crash you heard was my car. Though I sort of threw it somewhere over that way when I remembered we can't have any cars." He points deeper into the woods.

"Like y'don't give a shit anymore," Shane murmurs, closing her eyes and letting out a sigh, though the idea of Quenton tossing a car like a Frisbee does seem to amuse her, for a moment. "Y'know… sorta know how that feels. I… dunno 'f I told you, but… got kinda strung out on drugs, last year. Like… before you got here. Ms. Frost twigged to it, said she wouldn't expel me 'f I gave her what I had left, 'n told her who sold it t'me."

"I do give a shit," Quenton mumbles, while he glances finally over to her, before he tilts his head, releasing a long sigh. "You didn't tell me about the drugs," he murmurs, glancing over Shane's outfit, before he offers his hands to her. "Grab on and hold on tight," he murmurs, briefly yanking up her gym bag and his duffle bag and slinging them over his shoulders, before said hands are offered out again.

"No I mean, when y'rage. Stuff stops matterin', an' it's like it's th'right thing t'do t'just pound anythin' in your way t'meat. An' it's like, hell, y'*could* do it, 'n might makin' right 'n all that bullshit…" Closing her eyes, she steps in between Quenton's outstretched arms, placing her boots on his feet, and squeezing tight around his waist. "'S how I felt when I was on th'Kick. Just go t'my room, take a huff, 'n sit there just not givin' a shit f'r like hours."

"Oh, you meant that," Quenton mutters, clearing his throat, while he rakes his finger through his hair, then lets it drop to the green haired girl, fingers gently closing around Shane's arms. And then he lifts into the air, keeping her close as they flit into the sky, high enough that they can peer over the roof of the mansion.

Shane's arms tighten further around Quenton's waist as they rise, and after a moment she buries her face in his chest, shutting the view out. "Scares th'shit outta me, every time we do this," she mumbles, shoulders tensing like coiled springs. "'S awesome… but… 's scary's hell, y'know…?"

"I used to be so scared," Quenton murmurs, staring at the top of her head, before looking out then. "I can always take us lower," he reminds. "I know it gets cold up here, even during the summer." He releases a sharp exhale, before drifting through the air slowly, directly over the building. "The first day you were so… I don't know. Adorable. I know I just… I dunno. We just got together and all that stuff happened, but that moment, I wished things stayed like that. Like, you… me, and Sage hanging out and watching anime all the time and other stuff."

"Don't gotta be perfect," Shane says against Quenton's chest, before nerving up enough to turn her head, opening her eyes and taking in the view. …All the while studiously reminding herself that he doesn't actually want to drop her. A more trying chore than usual, given the circumstances, but one she doesn't make verbal, beyond a shivering breath and the digging in of her fingers on his back. "…Don't gotta be perfect," she repeats. "…Be stupid t'spect things t'stay that way, anyway. We're *both* retardedly huge basket cases. Just ain't happenin'."

Quenton shifts his hands to the shoulder blades, pressing her close to him. Abruptly, he turns upside down, and then begins to plummet towards the school, before his body jerks back upright when they hit the roof, and he begins to set her back down onto it, furrowing his brow briefly and recoiling from her, for some reason, shifting her gym bag down and beside him. "I… it's gonna take more then a few sorries, isn't it? For things to go back to what they were?"

Regardless of how secure the hold is, the abrupt plummet forces a thin, terrified shriek out of Shane's throat, and when he recoils from her, she goes down with a thump on her backside, looking up at Quenton like he's either an alien impostor or a deep-cover spy; someone, at least, different enough from the person she knows that she's begun to question his identity. "Wh… wh… why did you…?!"

"I'm sorry!" Quenton says quickly, then, jerking around at her hysterics, releasing a shuddering exhale, moving for her quickly, falling to his knees beside Shane. "I'm sorry!" he murmurs, quickly, hands beginning to tremble as steam rises from his back. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you! I thought…" He draws in a breath. "I thought it'd make you trust me more. To show I wouldn't let you go. I'm sorry."

"Are you *out of your fucking /mind?!/*" Despite the intensity of her words, between her weariness and the terror only just beginning to leave her, Shane's throat is too tight for little more than a high-pitched whisper. "*This* is what I gotta think about next time we do this?! What the bubbling monkeyback *fuck,* Q?!"

"I'm sorry," Quenton murmurs, hands trembling as he reaches for Shane, but closing his fingers and pressing his knuckles to either temple. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He clears his throat, shaking his head and pressing his hands over his dark eyes. "I didn't mean to scare you. I mean, I meant to, but not this bad. Christ. Christ, you can blow up on me or something."

"I *can't,*" Shane says, pulling her legs up and resting her forehead on her knees. "Why d'you think I was so scared?! Blew up a whole shitload o'times, makin' that crater. Got nothin' left… nothin' t'save me, 'f you jus' decided t'drop me after all…" Between fright, shock, and simple bone-deep tiredness, Shane simply curls up where she is, much the same as how he found her; small, scared, alone, and hurting.

"I would -never- have dropped you," Quenton murmurs, shifting on his feet. "I don't know if you know this, but I -am- kind of crazy about you," he protests, hands raking through his hair. "Please. Please, I wouldn't have," he says, smashing his fist into his temple. "Christ, I'm so fucking stupid."

"…I want to go back down," is all Shane says after a moment. "…Wanna go to bed. Talk 'bout this later."

"I… hold on tight," Quenton murmurs, shakily, then, offering his hands out, rising back up.

Shane pushes herself off the ground, not meeting Quenton's eyes as she wraps her arms around his waist, standing on his feet like before. As they lift off, she squeezes her eyes shut, pressing cheek to chest. "…So that feelin' you got right now… where everything went 'bout as wrong as it could get, an' you dunno 'f anything'll ever be okay again?"

"Yeah?" wonders Quenton, shakily, already hitting the ground, looking guiltier then all hell, closing his eyes as he watches Shane and then glances away, hands trembling slightly as they release her arms.

Shane's arms slip from Quenton's waist, and she takes a step back, meeting his eyes… and for once, the depth of wounds old and new, the fear and suspicion that throb like an old rotten tooth at the back of her mind is plainly visible in her sullen gaze. "…That's what it's like to be me, Q. *All the time.*" And with that, she turns, opening the door to the dorms and making her way back to her room.

Quenton watches after her, before letting out a loud angry growl, just taking back off into the sky and shooting off towards the woods.

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