entrancelogs | knocked the wind out of my soul [open]

He hasn't gotten reporters like her in a...fuck, in a long damn while. Not since he was a kid. And back then, he had a fortress of adults who ventured to care to field those sorts of questions - doctors, tutors, teachers, people who gave more of a shit about the powers than they did the person that wielded them.

Maybe "wielded" is the wrong choice of words.

He almost tells her to get lost out of principle. Runs through the thoughts in his head, trying to smooth them down into some semblance of order. And don't listen too hard.

He doesn't have to listen. Her intent is clearer than sunlight, and he has to fight back a flinch.

"...not for very long," he mumbles, which isn't a no, and he should've picked his words more carefully, he realizes after the fact.

Because even a hard no isn't enough to stymie the ever-persistent Georgia Mason.

That definitely isn't a no, which is just as well. No was never an option. She tugs a photo out of her pocket of the nurse and holds it up for him to see. "Do you recognize this woman?"

She doesn't waste any time. She doesn't waste any time at all. there's only a split second where his eyes settle upon the image she offers out, and the recognition flares without the association burned to the back of it - before the rest of it slams in behind.

He can't not recognize her. Her face is seared into his memory forevermore.

He could deny it, but...what'd be the point? The subtle widening of his eyes and the contracting of the muscles in his throat have already given her the answer she's looking for.

"I...I mean, I..." He pauses, eyes narrowing briefly. He can't...hear anyone listening in, which is just as well, but people have methods of screening these kinds of things. So when he says it, it's in an urgent undertone - "you knew her?"

That might help if she herself wasn't wired up enough that she can record every whisper. She's not leaving here without evidence, and he's giving her plenty of it.

"Call me a friend of the family's." She wasn't then. She sure is now. Amazing how giving them their first real ally in years made them want to be friends. "Have you seen her or had any word of her since the incident?"

She's pretty sure she knows the answer to that one too.

A slightly desperate shake of his head. No one's told him. No one's bothered to - or, even more possibly, people have taken pains to ensure he never finds out.

And now he's being presented with the option. Or something close enough to it.

"No one ever...no one would tell me." And eventually, he just stopped asking. "Is she...?"

"Alive, technically speaking. About as much going on mentally as your average carrot, of course, but she's got a pulse." She snatches the photo away, scribbling down notes. "How hard did you try and find out, Mr. Wright?"

She's got a pulse. But she's...

Fuck.

Any and all plans he had for the remainder of the day have spun out from his head. There's a tremor in his heart, a hot rush of wind aching in his ears, and her words almost completely pass him by. Keep it together. Keep it together. He has to breathe, he has to remember what he's been taught and told and not lose control, or she'll be the next.

"I...I don't..." Breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe -

The turbulence of his thoughts cut out like a blade, his distress spiking rapidly and without warning in a concentrated radius through every skull in the vicinity. He clamps down on it at once, but the damage is done. Anyone not mired in their own distractibility will feel it, and either know it came from a mutant or mistake it for their own.

It's not unexpected, really. She breathes hard to get his distress under control, to not let it phase her. She knew this might happen. She prepared. She lets it pass through her, then frowns up at him.

"Your handlers did you no favors hiding this from you. Have there been other incidents?"

His handlers.

The word washes over him like a cold sheet of ice, and he has to reorganize his breathing, again, to just...put himself all together again. Don't inflict himself on everyone else. He can hear her straining to get what she needs from him, asking the right questions. She came prepared. She knew what to expect from him.

Everyone knows what to expect from a thing like him.

"I don't...I don't think so." It's hard to think through the muzzy heat wave of his own exhaustion, his own pains to keep everything shuttered in his own skull.

Picture a door, and close it. One after another.

One after another.

"I didn't...no one knew I was...like back then. Not until she..."

Not until he messed things up, and changed everything for the worse.

"I know." She doesn't blame him for his actions, really. A child losing control of powers he doesn't know he has is a tragedy, but no one can blame the child. It's not until the attempted cover-up that it becomes a conspiracy. She's pretty sure Tim had very little say in much that's happened to him. He's in a funny position... too powerful to be ignored, not powerful enough or not ambitious enough to leverage himself into a position of control.

Tim's not her real target. He's just her way in.

"You didn't know. But someone did. Someone saw what you can do, and they've been protecting you ever since."

"So...who?" He's the one looking at her as though she has the answers - even if she wouldn't be talking to him, some part of him knows, if she did. How's he supposed to help? Rummaging through people's brains? He doesn't do that; tries his hardest not to.

But it's not a question of trying. It never really is.

(How long? How long has this been veiled from him?)

(Who? God, who?)

"And how'd this only reach me now?"

He doesn't know anything. She wishes that were surprising, but honestly she suspected as much. He's being used, and people in power don't usually give their pawns much information. Still, it's disappointing. It would be nice if things were easy for once.

"Not someone you know personally, probably. You're a telepath. They wouldn't risk it." She frowns. "Who have you talked to?"

"I didn't..." There it is, now. The shame, drooping his shoulders. Bowing his head. You just sat nice and quiet in your corner, Timothy, didn't you? Didn't bother trying to pry. Did exactly as you were told like a good little boy. Looking for answers just wasn't on your radar.

Even if those answers might have finally soothed years-old wounds.

"People kept saying 'no,' or that - there was no news." One hand creeps up to cling at his arm, wrapping halfway around himself. "Eventually, I guess I stopped...asking."

He learned there was no point in it.

"I know it was a long time ago, but if you can remember who those people were, I might be able to dig up more information." She has more leads to follow. Tim doesn't need to know about all of them. But she'll always take any more she can get.

In any case, this is about getting Tim on her side. He might not have paid attention before, but now maybe he will.

"I don't...I could try asking. Looking back, but..." But it was never about him. It was never - why would it be? He's used to all of it being about him, a little too much. His issues. His inability to control his powers. His frustrations manifesting in the world, in the minds of others. His lack of self-discipline.

His problem.

And she was just...the collateral. Wasn't she?

"What was her name?" Don't let it eat at you. Be useful while you still can. "If I can...if there's something I can do, if there's some way I can - I can help..."

Georgia stares at him through her sunglasses for a moment, trying to read his intentions. Whatever she sees seems to be enough because she nods sharply. "Jessica."

She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a business card. "You can access a lot of resources I can't." Even with mutant parents, she's still just a human. She can get away with a lot of things other humans can't, but that only takes her so far. Tim may be watched more closely than her, but he can get away with more. And that's not even going into his mental powers. What she wouldn't do to be able to read minds sometimes. "Ask around. Let me know if you find anything."

Edited (right icons are a thing) 2017-09-30 17:06 (UTC)

The name doesn't ring a bell, but he shouldn't be surprised. This isn't his specialty, but that doesn't mean this isn't his fight. He can access a lot of resources, all right. Plenty of them, and he can't ever turn off the power that lets him do that.

"Okay." He stares at the little line of text on the business card. Breaking the law, straining his limits - but if anything comes of this, he doubts he'll be the one to suffer for it. Not with a human scapegoat helpfully presenting herself to the slaughter.

"...thank you." His shoulders have slumped, but the words are sincere. "For...telling me."

She nods. "It's what I do." Even if usually it's on a bigger scale than this. Still, one person is a start. They can get Jessica's story told. "Call me when you learn anything."

And with that, she turns and walks away.

Except she doesn't get very far until she slows, blinks, and looks around. Finding herself in Wonderland again. "...huh."

Tim nods. It's...not great, to see her go. Not when she might be the only link he has to her, to this nurse whose mind he ruined and ravaged completely without thinking. But now that he has a name, maybe he can start somewhere.

Jessica.

He can find her now. Find her family. Help her, even. He was the one that broke her head - surely, if anyone could fix it, it could be him.

She's out there.

All he has to do is find her.

knocked the wind out of my soul [open]

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hey shana just as a quick side note: fuck you

love you too <3

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