Warren doesn’t think about it too often, trying not to get himself worked up over thinking about why the doctor never told his parents or reached out when he was older. It makes sense why not him since there was no way a newborn would understand, but it always felt like an interesting choice not to at least notify his parents. What would they have done? His mother holding their newborn and being told one day that her son will discover that he’s a Mutant. Warren likes to imagine that he would have gotten their love anyway. He shifts his focus back to looking strong his friend, who seems to be feeling disapproval about what the doctor had decided. It wasn’t right, but maybe it’s what needed to happen. “I didn’t find out that I was a Mutant until one day in my dorm I took off my shirt in the bathroom to find feathers pushing out of my skin. I didn’t know what to make of it at the time, thinking it could be easy to hide from the other students because of how small the wings are. I was a fool, now look at them. There’s no hiding these now.” Warren knows his mutation wasn’t the most useful, but rather it was one of the most beautiful.
He takes a moment to reflect on this, just how much growth has happened since being a little kid. When hearing his new friend apologizing? Warren doesn’t want Bobbie to think that she did anything wrong. “You don’t need to —“ His voice starts off with, trying to form the right way to express to her that it was okay. This was an important conversation to have, one that Warren should make more time for, but having someone that wanted to look out for him makes him feel special. Sometimes he forgets what that feels like. “It’s okay. I don’t want you to apologize. I needed to hear it, and don’t always get the chance to let my feelings out. You probably knew that, so don’t apologize.” Warren smiles while looking over at her from his side of the table. He squeezes back gently at the hand that slowly reaches out to hold his own. The touch helps, unable to register as to why, but this makes him feel some comfort.
Perhaps the two of them could support each other. The blonde likes the thought of that, and to think that he almost didn’t stop by the coffee shop today. He would have missed out on discovering a new friend who was also an old one all wrapped in one. “Promises are a tricky thing. We never really know what will happen tomorrow, one thing could change the way everything played out in one timeline, and so nothing is ever guaranteed. We can just try to be the best versions of ourselves, which is all the world should ask from us. What I can promise is that no matter what happens I trust you. I even trust you to be able to reach out and get me back in control if Archangel ever gets out. Promises are hard, but I think we can make room for a few of them.” Warren doesn’t know where that came from, and he also isn’t sure if how long Bobbie will be here. Would it be selfish if he wanted her to stay?
The thought of getting an assistant makes him hesitant, not sure what qualities you should look in a person for such a job. Warren will figure it out, but maybe he should get one. There was only so much one person could do, so why was he pushing himself toward exhaustion? “I’ll look into it. I need to have the right person working with me, but maybe I’ll find someone that’s perfect for the job.” Whoever was hired would need to actually like Mutants — he didn’t let anyone work for Worthington who doesn’t for obvious reasons.
Warren can’t imagine what it was like to restart your life in another year, so many things he didn’t even think about like credit. Which could make getting somewhere to live quite difficult, but he could at least help with that. “I can definitely aid you in finding somewhere to stay. Are there any places you have your eye on? I could go with you to take tours of them. Otherwise … I know someone who could help us find what you’re looking for in a place to live. Somewhere that will fit Roberta AND your tastes I’m assuming?” He smiles, almost glad that she doesn’t have to share a body with a persona that was purely evil. It’s not an experience anyone should have to live with. Warren wonders if he would ever meet Bobbie’s alter — would they look so different that he wouldn’t know? These are important questions to bring up later, but the blonde plans to treat both of them with kindness, even if he doesn’t know much about Roberta.
It was absolutely revolting what they’ve been through, but have either of them really become truly okay with living this way? Warren would never judge, of course not. He wouldn’t want such assumptions being made of him, and so he doesn’t plan on doing them with Bobbie. The bond they have surrounding having an alter — which doesn’t always have to be EVIL AND GOOD. Their stories are different, but similar enough to know they aren’t alone. Warren and Bobbie have each other as a support system. His hand squeezes at his friend’s again, showing that it was okay to talk about it. “It’s not fair that they would manipulate someone sweet as Roberta sounds to be. It’s always the innocent that suffer the most, and I wish that wasn’t the truth.” Warren sighs, and continues to listen. “What if something happens being in a different time? What if the chance for Roberta to finally learn about you arises? It might be overwhelming at first I don’t doubt that, but I guess what I’m trying to ask is — do you want Roberta to know about you?” Warren knows what it was like having an alter that knows about you, only his was pure evil while Bobbie’s wasn’t. It wasn’t always easy, especially when you both have different opinions on how their days should be spent. Warren doesn’t ever plan on giving Death the pleasure.
This was a tough conversation, most of this was heavy, but there was something about Bobbie that makes him feel at ease. It was almost like they’ve known each other for a lifetime already. “You can reach out to me even if you don’t need anything. Even if you want to come over and do face masks. I’m happy with just talking to you too. I’m your friend, and I want us to continue being so.” Warren is smoking genuinely again, thumb brushing against the top of Bobbie’s hand as they sit there. “I don’t know how to handle loss either.” His kind shifts back to losing Scott, who returned back to their lives, but organizing a funeral for his best friend was harder than it was for his own parents. “We can try to handle it together. I don’t think loss is ever meant to get easier, you know? I don’t want to ever get numb to that feeling.”
There was no hiding the wings now, that much was obvious --- and part of her wanted to say that there was no reason he should hide them, they were beautiful after all. But, they both knew that the world wasn’t as kind. The reality of their world, of their lives, was that people would look at him differently no matter how pretty his mutation was, he was still a mutant. And that shift in him, that difference in DNA was all anyone cared to see. Bobbie had felt it, in the back of Roberta’s mind, felt the strange anger that flared up with the judgment of others --- the fear in the pit of her stomach when she saw wanted posters of herself plastered across the city, but this was different. Bobbie wasn’t experiencing things from the back of Roberta’s mind anymore. She was feeling it completely. No filter, no buffer. And this was a strange experience. Though, nothing about what she had experienced so far in this year had been normal. (Aside from this conversation. Spending time with Warren felt like the only natural thing to have happened.) “They’re beautiful,” she commented quietly. Knowing that beauty didn’t take away their impact. And it did nothing to dampen the tone of her voice. She was still sorry that it had come down that way for him, that they knew and no one had thought it necessary to tell him.
And horrifyingly, it gave them something else in common. Doctors keeping the fact that he was a mutant from him --- and Roberta having the fact she had Captain America in her head kept from her by Alchemax. (Bobbie wasn’t sure if Roberta would ever be aware of Bobbie’s existence. And that... Bobbie wasn’t sure how she was going to live with that.) But Warren was once again proving just how good he was --- and why she was so quick to trust him even here when she had barely met him. The smile on he face warmed and there was another apology on the tip of her tongue, but she held it in this time. It seemed that he already understood her and the relationship they had before. Because he was right, she would have talked to him about this with ease in the future as well. She just... wasn’t sure how fragile this was. And the last thing she wanted to do was push one of her only friends away. “I...” Bobbie huffed a laugh and nodded her head. “I did know that.” Bobbie looked at their hands briefly before looking him in the eyes. “If... if it does make you uncomfortable --- anything I do --- please tell me.” She held onto his hands a moment longer before pulling away. Crossing her arms on the table as she looked at him.
Warren had this way of inspiring confidence --- of giving people comfort without really meaning to. Bobbie was listening to him talk about promises and the future. It made her feel like she was safe to make a promise with him, even if there was so much uncertainty in their life. How long was she staying? How could she promise to be the friend she had been to him in the future? How could she give him anything that he deserved? (Or anyone for that matter, when her life was in constant flux?) But Warren was telling her that they could make room for a few. And then he laid out a few promises for her, saying that he trusted her. Bobbie found herself pausing. It was a strange concept for her, to be trusted, without strings attached --- without the person trusting her having the ability to change her back and forth to Roberta. But Warren was offering it so easily. “I----” her voice cut off and she glanced away from him. “Thank you.” She wasn’t quite sure how to put into words how much it meant to her that he trusted her. “I’m---” sorry --- it hung on the tip of her tongue again. “I’m not used to people trusting me without expecting something in return.” Was that really trust then? Bobbie hadn’t had much time to contemplate the complexity of her relationships, she wasn’t often aware this long. “And I trust you to protect Roberta.” And with the fact that Roberta existed. Bobbie knew that she had Warren at a disadvantage. She knew enough about Archangel to understand what it meant when he started clawing his way to the surface.
Bobbie inhaled and tucked some hair behind her ear, choosing to focus on the table info front of them, on her hands, on the cup that held his drink --- on anything but Warren. “She doesn't know I exist,” Bobbie confessed quietly. “She --- we didn’t choose this life. Our ex-husband did. She was taken to----” the place still existed and what would happen if Warren knew it was Alchemax? Would he try to buy them out --- would she cease to exist? “He experimented on her. Or rather, gave her up to the company he worked for and they did but...” Bobbie felt a strange need to defend him, to make it seem like what he had done to her was less than what it was. “She has no idea what happened to her. Things that are mine --- the suit --- the clothes in my size --- she can’t process it. I am aware of everything she does but she... she has blackouts. And doesn’t question it. She’s the failsafe. If I can’t be controlled --- or I’m not listening well enough for them, they bring her out.” Roberta was the one that people didn’t see, that people looked through instead of at, and she wondered if Warren would even recognize her as Roberta. (She hoped he would. She wanted him to.) There was a long pause before Bobbie looked at Warren again. “I trust you too.” She wasn’t ready to give people her code words --- but if she had to pick a person that wasn’t Miggy or Jess to know them? It would have been Warren.
Warren finding someone who could help him would take effort --- Bobbie knew that. He needed to be careful because he was a mutant so he needed someone who wouldn’t hate him for existing, but also someone who wasn’t faking liking mutants either. It could easily be a political disaster. Bobbie hadn’t considered the problems that Warren might run into --- but there had to be someone out there with a level enough head to help him manage his business as well as navigate the charged waters they were facing. “It might take time,” Bobbie agreed. “But it would be worth it.”
She nodded her head. “I circled a few ads I saw online, people wanting roommates... I could use some help on finding a good neighborhood though. All of it is different.” Everything was shifted. The buildings and the places she had been familiar with --- the roots of the city were the same, but so much was different. Whatever help Warren wanted to provide Bobbie would do her best to accept (aside from money --- though Bobbie knew he had more than enough to spare, something about taking advantage of that felt wrong). She wanted his friendship more than she wanted his money and she wanted to make sure he understood that.
There was a possibility that Roberta could become aware of her, and Bobbie... wasn’t sure what would happen. If Roberta would understand it or if it’d be blocked from her memories again. Do you want Roberta to know about you? Bobbie looked up from their hands and into Warren’s eyes, and after a moment of hesitance, she nodded her head. “Part of me wants to protect her from the reality that she’s been given... she’s --- she’s fragile and she’s been through enough. But I want her to know.” Not because Bobbie felt that it was easier if they knew of each other, but because Roberta deserved to know the full scope of her life. “There’s a lot that I can’t do --- that I don’t want to do because this body isn’t my own.” Roberta was good and because of that, Bobbie tried her best to respect and protect the other part of her.
Following Miguel into this year had been a huge risk, but she couldn’t imagine her life without her best friend --- and there was no way that Bobbie could say how thankful she was that she had Warren as well. (It was easier to deal with this sort of stress when she had roots and people she trusted.) “Thank you,” she said quietly, returning the smile easily. “Loss shouldn't be easy,” Bobbie agreed. Numb was something that people became all too often --- and Bobbie was in this place where she was told that she should be numb, she was Captain America, she didn’t have time to mourn or be filled with grief. But this was a starting place. A casual thought of face masks while relaxing --- and a promise to help each other with their grief in the future.
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