jean and the wife (scott)

xmen blog (+dc crossover because why not)

[cykeandjeanie]

To me, my x-men

Hello. My name is Scott Summers, or Cyclops. I am the leader of the X-men.

My mutant ability is to fire optic blasts. But I cannot control it, so I wear my shades or my visor

I am in fact, Batman's greatest mentor (//ik it isn't canon but it is to me /silly)

Hi, I'm Jean Grey-Summers, or marvel girl, or Phoenix.

The Phoenix Force is always a part of me, but I have accepted it. (//the phoenix force will be in blue whenever it speaks)

I am a telepath and a telekinetic.

OOC

Hey chat its @/veesalienspaceship back with the sillies

Jean and scott are gonna be an amalgamation of canon material I've read/watched and hcs PLEASE BEAR WITH ME I HAVE NOT READ ALL CANON

This blog is also based off my X-Men x DC fic (linked here)

jean and scott are happily married, please do not flirt with either of them.

Mun is a minor (16+) and will block anyone that's inappropriate. Fafo

Tags

#wisdom from jean - jean ic

#cyclops talking - scott ic

#words from the phoenix force - pheonix force

#answering your questions - ask answered

#vee yaps - ooc

[cykeandjeanie]

... you're an older me? Weird.

@changing-forget-me-not

The multiverse can be strange, it's nice to meet you though!

[changing-forget-me-not]

Eh I guess stranger things have happened. Yeah, it's nice to meet you too

[cykeandjeanie]

definitely, I've seen a lot more strange things in my lifetime

[changing-forget-me-not]

Yeahhh it's why I'm staying in upstate New York now. I need to figure out who I am away from all the crazy

[cykeandjeanie]

i see, it's understandable.

[cykeandjeanie]

... you're an older me? Weird.

@changing-forget-me-not

The multiverse can be strange, it's nice to meet you though!

[changing-forget-me-not]

Eh I guess stranger things have happened. Yeah, it's nice to meet you too

[cykeandjeanie]

definitely, I've seen a lot more strange things in my lifetime

[cykeandjeanie]

... you're an older me? Weird.

@changing-forget-me-not

The multiverse can be strange, it's nice to meet you though!

[hopping-bunny-radio]

Open Rp

[ The rain came down in sheets, just like he knew it would.

It was pouring, and he was still in his stupid pink dress, and it was cold, and his bun was starting to make his head hurt, so he took it out. There's no reason to stick to a stupid memory in his own dreams. But it was quiet. That's all he wanted.

Fawcett was quiet when it rained. The sound of it drowned out everything else, the sirens, the shouting, the ever-present hum of a city that never stopped moving or shut up. The rain made the whole place feel calm. Almost peaceful.

It was an easy memory to stay trapped here.

He could stay here. Heavy and soaking wet and so fucking cold, swinging back and forth instead of taking shelter in the playground like he had done the first time. Instead he was on the swings, going back and forth and back and forth and back and forth, the storm raging on, pelting him with kind of painful pellets of rain, lightning threatening in the sky. Thunder cracking shortly after.

Billy just stayed on the swing.

He had stopped paying attention to his surroundings. What was the point? He knew what was around him. This was all his memories. Every crack in the pavement, the fraying rope that city into his hands, every puddle forming at his feet that he slashed through with every kick, he'd lived it before. He knew how it ended. He knew who showed up. He knew what he'd say.

If he continued the memory from here.

Which he didn't.

He just swung.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Letting the rain wash over him, letting the cold seep into his bones, letting himself be a ghost in a memory that wasn't even real. He hadn't realized someone was coming up behind him. ]

Part 1

[cykeandjeanie]

the rain stopped landing on him, as Jean created a psionic umbrella.

"Hello Billy" she greeted softly, a sympathetic look on her face

[hopping-bunny-radio]

[ Billy stopped swinging when he stopped feeling the rain pelt against his already sopping wet body.

He looked up, confused, at the prism of light refracting through the raindrops, then at Jean. She stood there, solid and real in a way nothing else in this memory was. The rain seemed to part around her, like even the storm knew better than to touch her or more likely her own powers.

Billy looked so much smaller in his own headspace. Smaller than he'd ever let anyone see him. Smaller, in a dress he hated, in a color he hated more. Pink was such a girly color and the frills were ridiculous and infantilizing even while soaked through and plastered down. He looked like a doll. A broken one that had been left out in the rain too long.

It was obvious he had been crying. His eyes were red-rimmed and swollen, his cheeks blotchy. Crying had become pretty much the only thing he could do here, so that's what he did. He cried and mourned and screamed louder than the lightning in this memory of a storm till it all stopped hurting as bad. He tried to smile. It was obviously forced and weak. ]

Jean? How are you—

[ He blinked, water still streaming down his face, dripping off his chin. ]

Right, uh, telepath, right? That makes sense.

[ He laughed a little. A hollow, broken sound that was more reflex than humor. ]

Sorry you had to see me like this. I—uh... yeah. You probably shouldn't stay here.

[cykeandjeanie]

She gently wiped some of the water from his face.

"it's alright honey." Jean replied softly

[hopping-bunny-radio]

You're not supposed to be here.

[ Billy said though he leaned into the touch. He couldn't help it, she was so much warmer than he was. ]

[cykeandjeanie]

"your mind was distressed" she replied, her hand coming to rest on his shoulder

"I couldn't ignore it"

[hopping-bunny-radio]

You should have

[ Billy mumbled, but he was already leaning into her, curling toward her warmth like a flower turning toward the sun. As much as he wanted to push her out of this memory prison, and rot in the corner of his own mind with dignity, he was selfish.

So selfish.

He knew he should tell her to go. Should shove her away before she got trapped too, before the static swallowed her up along with him. Before she saw more of what he'd become and what he was always going to become.

But he just... couldn't.

He wanted to relish in the good for a little while longer. Just a little while. Just enough to remember what it felt like to not be alone. Just long enough to pretend, for one fragile moment, that someone might actually stay this time. His small, rain-cold fingers curled into the fabric of her sleeve. He didn't cry, he was too tired for that now, but his voice cracked when he spoke again.]

You really need to leave Jean.

[ He didn't let go. He didn't want to. ]

[cykeandjeanie]

"It's alright honey" she gently picked him up, holding him close.

"I know you're scared, but I'm here for you"

[hopping-bunny-radio]

[ When she picked him up, Billy held onto her so tightly.

He was so small. Just a kid, maybe seven in age, and way lighter than he should be. His fingers dug into her clothes like she was the only solid thing left in the universe, his face burrowed into the crook of her neck. The pink dress bunched up around him, soaked and cold and ridiculous, but he didn't care. He didn't care about anything except the warmth of her. The solidness of her. The fact that someone was holding him again. He had missed being held so much. Billy didn't want to act like a grown up anymore. He honestly sounded like he was about to start crying again. ]

I'm sorry.

[ The words came out muffled against her shoulder, broken and wet. ]

I'm so sorry. 'm so sorry.

[ He didn't even know what he was apologizing for. For being a burden. For being too weak to save himself. For dragging her into this mess. For existing. For not being a good enough hero. For everything. His small body shook against her, and he couldn't stop the tears this time. ]

I didn't mean to—I never wanted—

[ He gasped, trying to breathe, trying to get the words out. ]

I just wanted to be good. I tried so hard to be good.

[cykeandjeanie]

She stayed quiet for a long time, rubbing circles between his shoulder blades.

"it's alright honey, I'm here" jean said softly.

[hopping-bunny-radio]

[ Billy cried. He cried so hard, wracked with sobs that had been building for so long. All the grief, all the loneliness, the dream of a real home he'd choked down and buried since all of this started. All of it came pouring out in ugly, gasping waves. When he finally did start to calm down, he held onto Jean still, sniffling miserably against her shoulder. ]

I'm so sorry

[ he whispered, his voice wrecked and hoarse. ]

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I—

[ He hiccuped ]

Please don't leave me here. Please. I know I'm supposed to be brave but I can't—I can't—

[cykeandjeanie]

"I'm not leaving you here." She promised, cradling him close.

[hopping-bunny-radio]

They're not going to let me go back. Says this is better than being out there.

[cykeandjeanie]

"then I'll bring you back." She replied.

[hopping-bunny-radio]

How? I can't— I don't have a body out there anymore.

They're not going to let me take it back

[cykeandjeanie]

Jean ran her fingers through his hair

"they'll relinquish it, with enough pressure. or I will simply return your consciousness to your body"

[hopping-bunny-radio]

...Do you think I'm dangerous? If I go back do you think I'm going to be a danger to everyone again?

[cykeandjeanie]

"No, you aren't dangerous. You're a kid learning to navigate a world unnecessarily hostile, with little to no guidance"

[hopping-bunny-radio]

Even if I almost blew a he in reality again? That's why I'm stuck here!

[ Billy laughed miserably into her. ]

I was stupid and had a panic attack and they decided that I shouldn't be the one out there anymore

[cykeandjeanie]

"It's normal to lose control sometimes, they shouldn't just take away your agency and leave you here"

Jean carded her fingers through his hair.

[hopping-bunny-radio]

Open Rp

[ The rain came down in sheets, just like he knew it would.

It was pouring, and he was still in his stupid pink dress, and it was cold, and his bun was starting to make his head hurt, so he took it out. There's no reason to stick to a stupid memory in his own dreams. But it was quiet. That's all he wanted.

Fawcett was quiet when it rained. The sound of it drowned out everything else, the sirens, the shouting, the ever-present hum of a city that never stopped moving or shut up. The rain made the whole place feel calm. Almost peaceful.

It was an easy memory to stay trapped here.

He could stay here. Heavy and soaking wet and so fucking cold, swinging back and forth instead of taking shelter in the playground like he had done the first time. Instead he was on the swings, going back and forth and back and forth and back and forth, the storm raging on, pelting him with kind of painful pellets of rain, lightning threatening in the sky. Thunder cracking shortly after.

Billy just stayed on the swing.

He had stopped paying attention to his surroundings. What was the point? He knew what was around him. This was all his memories. Every crack in the pavement, the fraying rope that city into his hands, every puddle forming at his feet that he slashed through with every kick, he'd lived it before. He knew how it ended. He knew who showed up. He knew what he'd say.

If he continued the memory from here.

Which he didn't.

He just swung.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Letting the rain wash over him, letting the cold seep into his bones, letting himself be a ghost in a memory that wasn't even real. He hadn't realized someone was coming up behind him. ]

Part 1

[cykeandjeanie]

the rain stopped landing on him, as Jean created a psionic umbrella.

"Hello Billy" she greeted softly, a sympathetic look on her face

[hopping-bunny-radio]

[ Billy stopped swinging when he stopped feeling the rain pelt against his already sopping wet body.

He looked up, confused, at the prism of light refracting through the raindrops, then at Jean. She stood there, solid and real in a way nothing else in this memory was. The rain seemed to part around her, like even the storm knew better than to touch her or more likely her own powers.

Billy looked so much smaller in his own headspace. Smaller than he'd ever let anyone see him. Smaller, in a dress he hated, in a color he hated more. Pink was such a girly color and the frills were ridiculous and infantilizing even while soaked through and plastered down. He looked like a doll. A broken one that had been left out in the rain too long.

It was obvious he had been crying. His eyes were red-rimmed and swollen, his cheeks blotchy. Crying had become pretty much the only thing he could do here, so that's what he did. He cried and mourned and screamed louder than the lightning in this memory of a storm till it all stopped hurting as bad. He tried to smile. It was obviously forced and weak. ]

Jean? How are you—

[ He blinked, water still streaming down his face, dripping off his chin. ]

Right, uh, telepath, right? That makes sense.

[ He laughed a little. A hollow, broken sound that was more reflex than humor. ]

Sorry you had to see me like this. I—uh... yeah. You probably shouldn't stay here.

[cykeandjeanie]

She gently wiped some of the water from his face.

"it's alright honey." Jean replied softly

[hopping-bunny-radio]

You're not supposed to be here.

[ Billy said though he leaned into the touch. He couldn't help it, she was so much warmer than he was. ]

[cykeandjeanie]

"your mind was distressed" she replied, her hand coming to rest on his shoulder

"I couldn't ignore it"

[hopping-bunny-radio]

You should have

[ Billy mumbled, but he was already leaning into her, curling toward her warmth like a flower turning toward the sun. As much as he wanted to push her out of this memory prison, and rot in the corner of his own mind with dignity, he was selfish.

So selfish.

He knew he should tell her to go. Should shove her away before she got trapped too, before the static swallowed her up along with him. Before she saw more of what he'd become and what he was always going to become.

But he just... couldn't.

He wanted to relish in the good for a little while longer. Just a little while. Just enough to remember what it felt like to not be alone. Just long enough to pretend, for one fragile moment, that someone might actually stay this time. His small, rain-cold fingers curled into the fabric of her sleeve. He didn't cry, he was too tired for that now, but his voice cracked when he spoke again.]

You really need to leave Jean.

[ He didn't let go. He didn't want to. ]

[cykeandjeanie]

"It's alright honey" she gently picked him up, holding him close.

"I know you're scared, but I'm here for you"

[hopping-bunny-radio]

[ When she picked him up, Billy held onto her so tightly.

He was so small. Just a kid, maybe seven in age, and way lighter than he should be. His fingers dug into her clothes like she was the only solid thing left in the universe, his face burrowed into the crook of her neck. The pink dress bunched up around him, soaked and cold and ridiculous, but he didn't care. He didn't care about anything except the warmth of her. The solidness of her. The fact that someone was holding him again. He had missed being held so much. Billy didn't want to act like a grown up anymore. He honestly sounded like he was about to start crying again. ]

I'm sorry.

[ The words came out muffled against her shoulder, broken and wet. ]

I'm so sorry. 'm so sorry.

[ He didn't even know what he was apologizing for. For being a burden. For being too weak to save himself. For dragging her into this mess. For existing. For not being a good enough hero. For everything. His small body shook against her, and he couldn't stop the tears this time. ]

I didn't mean to—I never wanted—

[ He gasped, trying to breathe, trying to get the words out. ]

I just wanted to be good. I tried so hard to be good.

[cykeandjeanie]

She stayed quiet for a long time, rubbing circles between his shoulder blades.

"it's alright honey, I'm here" jean said softly.

[hopping-bunny-radio]

[ Billy cried. He cried so hard, wracked with sobs that had been building for so long. All the grief, all the loneliness, the dream of a real home he'd choked down and buried since all of this started. All of it came pouring out in ugly, gasping waves. When he finally did start to calm down, he held onto Jean still, sniffling miserably against her shoulder. ]

I'm so sorry

[ he whispered, his voice wrecked and hoarse. ]

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I—

[ He hiccuped ]

Please don't leave me here. Please. I know I'm supposed to be brave but I can't—I can't—

[cykeandjeanie]

"I'm not leaving you here." She promised, cradling him close.

[hopping-bunny-radio]

They're not going to let me go back. Says this is better than being out there.

[cykeandjeanie]

"then I'll bring you back." She replied.

[hopping-bunny-radio]

How? I can't— I don't have a body out there anymore.

They're not going to let me take it back

[cykeandjeanie]

Jean ran her fingers through his hair

"they'll relinquish it, with enough pressure. or I will simply return your consciousness to your body"

[hopping-bunny-radio]

...Do you think I'm dangerous? If I go back do you think I'm going to be a danger to everyone again?

[cykeandjeanie]

"No, you aren't dangerous. You're a kid learning to navigate a world unnecessarily hostile, with little to no guidance"

[hopping-bunny-radio]

Open Rp

[ The rain came down in sheets, just like he knew it would.

It was pouring, and he was still in his stupid pink dress, and it was cold, and his bun was starting to make his head hurt, so he took it out. There's no reason to stick to a stupid memory in his own dreams. But it was quiet. That's all he wanted.

Fawcett was quiet when it rained. The sound of it drowned out everything else, the sirens, the shouting, the ever-present hum of a city that never stopped moving or shut up. The rain made the whole place feel calm. Almost peaceful.

It was an easy memory to stay trapped here.

He could stay here. Heavy and soaking wet and so fucking cold, swinging back and forth instead of taking shelter in the playground like he had done the first time. Instead he was on the swings, going back and forth and back and forth and back and forth, the storm raging on, pelting him with kind of painful pellets of rain, lightning threatening in the sky. Thunder cracking shortly after.

Billy just stayed on the swing.

He had stopped paying attention to his surroundings. What was the point? He knew what was around him. This was all his memories. Every crack in the pavement, the fraying rope that city into his hands, every puddle forming at his feet that he slashed through with every kick, he'd lived it before. He knew how it ended. He knew who showed up. He knew what he'd say.

If he continued the memory from here.

Which he didn't.

He just swung.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Letting the rain wash over him, letting the cold seep into his bones, letting himself be a ghost in a memory that wasn't even real. He hadn't realized someone was coming up behind him. ]

Part 1

[cykeandjeanie]

the rain stopped landing on him, as Jean created a psionic umbrella.

"Hello Billy" she greeted softly, a sympathetic look on her face

[hopping-bunny-radio]

[ Billy stopped swinging when he stopped feeling the rain pelt against his already sopping wet body.

He looked up, confused, at the prism of light refracting through the raindrops, then at Jean. She stood there, solid and real in a way nothing else in this memory was. The rain seemed to part around her, like even the storm knew better than to touch her or more likely her own powers.

Billy looked so much smaller in his own headspace. Smaller than he'd ever let anyone see him. Smaller, in a dress he hated, in a color he hated more. Pink was such a girly color and the frills were ridiculous and infantilizing even while soaked through and plastered down. He looked like a doll. A broken one that had been left out in the rain too long.

It was obvious he had been crying. His eyes were red-rimmed and swollen, his cheeks blotchy. Crying had become pretty much the only thing he could do here, so that's what he did. He cried and mourned and screamed louder than the lightning in this memory of a storm till it all stopped hurting as bad. He tried to smile. It was obviously forced and weak. ]

Jean? How are you—

[ He blinked, water still streaming down his face, dripping off his chin. ]

Right, uh, telepath, right? That makes sense.

[ He laughed a little. A hollow, broken sound that was more reflex than humor. ]

Sorry you had to see me like this. I—uh... yeah. You probably shouldn't stay here.

[cykeandjeanie]

She gently wiped some of the water from his face.

"it's alright honey." Jean replied softly

[hopping-bunny-radio]

You're not supposed to be here.

[ Billy said though he leaned into the touch. He couldn't help it, she was so much warmer than he was. ]

[cykeandjeanie]

"your mind was distressed" she replied, her hand coming to rest on his shoulder

"I couldn't ignore it"

[hopping-bunny-radio]

You should have

[ Billy mumbled, but he was already leaning into her, curling toward her warmth like a flower turning toward the sun. As much as he wanted to push her out of this memory prison, and rot in the corner of his own mind with dignity, he was selfish.

So selfish.

He knew he should tell her to go. Should shove her away before she got trapped too, before the static swallowed her up along with him. Before she saw more of what he'd become and what he was always going to become.

But he just... couldn't.

He wanted to relish in the good for a little while longer. Just a little while. Just enough to remember what it felt like to not be alone. Just long enough to pretend, for one fragile moment, that someone might actually stay this time. His small, rain-cold fingers curled into the fabric of her sleeve. He didn't cry, he was too tired for that now, but his voice cracked when he spoke again.]

You really need to leave Jean.

[ He didn't let go. He didn't want to. ]

[cykeandjeanie]

"It's alright honey" she gently picked him up, holding him close.

"I know you're scared, but I'm here for you"

[hopping-bunny-radio]

[ When she picked him up, Billy held onto her so tightly.

He was so small. Just a kid, maybe seven in age, and way lighter than he should be. His fingers dug into her clothes like she was the only solid thing left in the universe, his face burrowed into the crook of her neck. The pink dress bunched up around him, soaked and cold and ridiculous, but he didn't care. He didn't care about anything except the warmth of her. The solidness of her. The fact that someone was holding him again. He had missed being held so much. Billy didn't want to act like a grown up anymore. He honestly sounded like he was about to start crying again. ]

I'm sorry.

[ The words came out muffled against her shoulder, broken and wet. ]

I'm so sorry. 'm so sorry.

[ He didn't even know what he was apologizing for. For being a burden. For being too weak to save himself. For dragging her into this mess. For existing. For not being a good enough hero. For everything. His small body shook against her, and he couldn't stop the tears this time. ]

I didn't mean to—I never wanted—

[ He gasped, trying to breathe, trying to get the words out. ]

I just wanted to be good. I tried so hard to be good.

[cykeandjeanie]

She stayed quiet for a long time, rubbing circles between his shoulder blades.

"it's alright honey, I'm here" jean said softly.

[hopping-bunny-radio]

[ Billy cried. He cried so hard, wracked with sobs that had been building for so long. All the grief, all the loneliness, the dream of a real home he'd choked down and buried since all of this started. All of it came pouring out in ugly, gasping waves. When he finally did start to calm down, he held onto Jean still, sniffling miserably against her shoulder. ]

I'm so sorry

[ he whispered, his voice wrecked and hoarse. ]

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I—

[ He hiccuped ]

Please don't leave me here. Please. I know I'm supposed to be brave but I can't—I can't—

[cykeandjeanie]

"I'm not leaving you here." She promised, cradling him close.

[hopping-bunny-radio]

They're not going to let me go back. Says this is better than being out there.

[cykeandjeanie]

"then I'll bring you back." She replied.

[hopping-bunny-radio]

How? I can't— I don't have a body out there anymore.

They're not going to let me take it back

[cykeandjeanie]

Jean ran her fingers through his hair

"they'll relinquish it, with enough pressure. or I will simply return your consciousness to your body"

[hopping-bunny-radio]

Open Rp

[ The rain came down in sheets, just like he knew it would.

It was pouring, and he was still in his stupid pink dress, and it was cold, and his bun was starting to make his head hurt, so he took it out. There's no reason to stick to a stupid memory in his own dreams. But it was quiet. That's all he wanted.

Fawcett was quiet when it rained. The sound of it drowned out everything else, the sirens, the shouting, the ever-present hum of a city that never stopped moving or shut up. The rain made the whole place feel calm. Almost peaceful.

It was an easy memory to stay trapped here.

He could stay here. Heavy and soaking wet and so fucking cold, swinging back and forth instead of taking shelter in the playground like he had done the first time. Instead he was on the swings, going back and forth and back and forth and back and forth, the storm raging on, pelting him with kind of painful pellets of rain, lightning threatening in the sky. Thunder cracking shortly after.

Billy just stayed on the swing.

He had stopped paying attention to his surroundings. What was the point? He knew what was around him. This was all his memories. Every crack in the pavement, the fraying rope that city into his hands, every puddle forming at his feet that he slashed through with every kick, he'd lived it before. He knew how it ended. He knew who showed up. He knew what he'd say.

If he continued the memory from here.

Which he didn't.

He just swung.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Letting the rain wash over him, letting the cold seep into his bones, letting himself be a ghost in a memory that wasn't even real. He hadn't realized someone was coming up behind him. ]

Part 1

[cykeandjeanie]

the rain stopped landing on him, as Jean created a psionic umbrella.

"Hello Billy" she greeted softly, a sympathetic look on her face

[hopping-bunny-radio]

[ Billy stopped swinging when he stopped feeling the rain pelt against his already sopping wet body.

He looked up, confused, at the prism of light refracting through the raindrops, then at Jean. She stood there, solid and real in a way nothing else in this memory was. The rain seemed to part around her, like even the storm knew better than to touch her or more likely her own powers.

Billy looked so much smaller in his own headspace. Smaller than he'd ever let anyone see him. Smaller, in a dress he hated, in a color he hated more. Pink was such a girly color and the frills were ridiculous and infantilizing even while soaked through and plastered down. He looked like a doll. A broken one that had been left out in the rain too long.

It was obvious he had been crying. His eyes were red-rimmed and swollen, his cheeks blotchy. Crying had become pretty much the only thing he could do here, so that's what he did. He cried and mourned and screamed louder than the lightning in this memory of a storm till it all stopped hurting as bad. He tried to smile. It was obviously forced and weak. ]

Jean? How are you—

[ He blinked, water still streaming down his face, dripping off his chin. ]

Right, uh, telepath, right? That makes sense.

[ He laughed a little. A hollow, broken sound that was more reflex than humor. ]

Sorry you had to see me like this. I—uh... yeah. You probably shouldn't stay here.

[cykeandjeanie]

She gently wiped some of the water from his face.

"it's alright honey." Jean replied softly

[hopping-bunny-radio]

You're not supposed to be here.

[ Billy said though he leaned into the touch. He couldn't help it, she was so much warmer than he was. ]

[cykeandjeanie]

"your mind was distressed" she replied, her hand coming to rest on his shoulder

"I couldn't ignore it"

[hopping-bunny-radio]

You should have

[ Billy mumbled, but he was already leaning into her, curling toward her warmth like a flower turning toward the sun. As much as he wanted to push her out of this memory prison, and rot in the corner of his own mind with dignity, he was selfish.

So selfish.

He knew he should tell her to go. Should shove her away before she got trapped too, before the static swallowed her up along with him. Before she saw more of what he'd become and what he was always going to become.

But he just... couldn't.

He wanted to relish in the good for a little while longer. Just a little while. Just enough to remember what it felt like to not be alone. Just long enough to pretend, for one fragile moment, that someone might actually stay this time. His small, rain-cold fingers curled into the fabric of her sleeve. He didn't cry, he was too tired for that now, but his voice cracked when he spoke again.]

You really need to leave Jean.

[ He didn't let go. He didn't want to. ]

[cykeandjeanie]

"It's alright honey" she gently picked him up, holding him close.

"I know you're scared, but I'm here for you"

[hopping-bunny-radio]

[ When she picked him up, Billy held onto her so tightly.

He was so small. Just a kid, maybe seven in age, and way lighter than he should be. His fingers dug into her clothes like she was the only solid thing left in the universe, his face burrowed into the crook of her neck. The pink dress bunched up around him, soaked and cold and ridiculous, but he didn't care. He didn't care about anything except the warmth of her. The solidness of her. The fact that someone was holding him again. He had missed being held so much. Billy didn't want to act like a grown up anymore. He honestly sounded like he was about to start crying again. ]

I'm sorry.

[ The words came out muffled against her shoulder, broken and wet. ]

I'm so sorry. 'm so sorry.

[ He didn't even know what he was apologizing for. For being a burden. For being too weak to save himself. For dragging her into this mess. For existing. For not being a good enough hero. For everything. His small body shook against her, and he couldn't stop the tears this time. ]

I didn't mean to—I never wanted—

[ He gasped, trying to breathe, trying to get the words out. ]

I just wanted to be good. I tried so hard to be good.

[cykeandjeanie]

She stayed quiet for a long time, rubbing circles between his shoulder blades.

"it's alright honey, I'm here" jean said softly.

[hopping-bunny-radio]

[ Billy cried. He cried so hard, wracked with sobs that had been building for so long. All the grief, all the loneliness, the dream of a real home he'd choked down and buried since all of this started. All of it came pouring out in ugly, gasping waves. When he finally did start to calm down, he held onto Jean still, sniffling miserably against her shoulder. ]

I'm so sorry

[ he whispered, his voice wrecked and hoarse. ]

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I—

[ He hiccuped ]

Please don't leave me here. Please. I know I'm supposed to be brave but I can't—I can't—

[cykeandjeanie]

"I'm not leaving you here." She promised, cradling him close.

[hopping-bunny-radio]

They're not going to let me go back. Says this is better than being out there.

[cykeandjeanie]

"then I'll bring you back." She replied.

[hopping-bunny-radio]

Open Rp

[ The rain came down in sheets, just like he knew it would.

It was pouring, and he was still in his stupid pink dress, and it was cold, and his bun was starting to make his head hurt, so he took it out. There's no reason to stick to a stupid memory in his own dreams. But it was quiet. That's all he wanted.

Fawcett was quiet when it rained. The sound of it drowned out everything else, the sirens, the shouting, the ever-present hum of a city that never stopped moving or shut up. The rain made the whole place feel calm. Almost peaceful.

It was an easy memory to stay trapped here.

He could stay here. Heavy and soaking wet and so fucking cold, swinging back and forth instead of taking shelter in the playground like he had done the first time. Instead he was on the swings, going back and forth and back and forth and back and forth, the storm raging on, pelting him with kind of painful pellets of rain, lightning threatening in the sky. Thunder cracking shortly after.

Billy just stayed on the swing.

He had stopped paying attention to his surroundings. What was the point? He knew what was around him. This was all his memories. Every crack in the pavement, the fraying rope that city into his hands, every puddle forming at his feet that he slashed through with every kick, he'd lived it before. He knew how it ended. He knew who showed up. He knew what he'd say.

If he continued the memory from here.

Which he didn't.

He just swung.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Letting the rain wash over him, letting the cold seep into his bones, letting himself be a ghost in a memory that wasn't even real. He hadn't realized someone was coming up behind him. ]

Part 1

[cykeandjeanie]

the rain stopped landing on him, as Jean created a psionic umbrella.

"Hello Billy" she greeted softly, a sympathetic look on her face

[hopping-bunny-radio]

[ Billy stopped swinging when he stopped feeling the rain pelt against his already sopping wet body.

He looked up, confused, at the prism of light refracting through the raindrops, then at Jean. She stood there, solid and real in a way nothing else in this memory was. The rain seemed to part around her, like even the storm knew better than to touch her or more likely her own powers.

Billy looked so much smaller in his own headspace. Smaller than he'd ever let anyone see him. Smaller, in a dress he hated, in a color he hated more. Pink was such a girly color and the frills were ridiculous and infantilizing even while soaked through and plastered down. He looked like a doll. A broken one that had been left out in the rain too long.

It was obvious he had been crying. His eyes were red-rimmed and swollen, his cheeks blotchy. Crying had become pretty much the only thing he could do here, so that's what he did. He cried and mourned and screamed louder than the lightning in this memory of a storm till it all stopped hurting as bad. He tried to smile. It was obviously forced and weak. ]

Jean? How are you—

[ He blinked, water still streaming down his face, dripping off his chin. ]

Right, uh, telepath, right? That makes sense.

[ He laughed a little. A hollow, broken sound that was more reflex than humor. ]

Sorry you had to see me like this. I—uh... yeah. You probably shouldn't stay here.

[cykeandjeanie]

She gently wiped some of the water from his face.

"it's alright honey." Jean replied softly

[hopping-bunny-radio]

You're not supposed to be here.

[ Billy said though he leaned into the touch. He couldn't help it, she was so much warmer than he was. ]

[cykeandjeanie]

"your mind was distressed" she replied, her hand coming to rest on his shoulder

"I couldn't ignore it"

[hopping-bunny-radio]

You should have

[ Billy mumbled, but he was already leaning into her, curling toward her warmth like a flower turning toward the sun. As much as he wanted to push her out of this memory prison, and rot in the corner of his own mind with dignity, he was selfish.

So selfish.

He knew he should tell her to go. Should shove her away before she got trapped too, before the static swallowed her up along with him. Before she saw more of what he'd become and what he was always going to become.

But he just... couldn't.

He wanted to relish in the good for a little while longer. Just a little while. Just enough to remember what it felt like to not be alone. Just long enough to pretend, for one fragile moment, that someone might actually stay this time. His small, rain-cold fingers curled into the fabric of her sleeve. He didn't cry, he was too tired for that now, but his voice cracked when he spoke again.]

You really need to leave Jean.

[ He didn't let go. He didn't want to. ]

[cykeandjeanie]

"It's alright honey" she gently picked him up, holding him close.

"I know you're scared, but I'm here for you"

[hopping-bunny-radio]

[ When she picked him up, Billy held onto her so tightly.

He was so small. Just a kid, maybe seven in age, and way lighter than he should be. His fingers dug into her clothes like she was the only solid thing left in the universe, his face burrowed into the crook of her neck. The pink dress bunched up around him, soaked and cold and ridiculous, but he didn't care. He didn't care about anything except the warmth of her. The solidness of her. The fact that someone was holding him again. He had missed being held so much. Billy didn't want to act like a grown up anymore. He honestly sounded like he was about to start crying again. ]

I'm sorry.

[ The words came out muffled against her shoulder, broken and wet. ]

I'm so sorry. 'm so sorry.

[ He didn't even know what he was apologizing for. For being a burden. For being too weak to save himself. For dragging her into this mess. For existing. For not being a good enough hero. For everything. His small body shook against her, and he couldn't stop the tears this time. ]

I didn't mean to—I never wanted—

[ He gasped, trying to breathe, trying to get the words out. ]

I just wanted to be good. I tried so hard to be good.

[cykeandjeanie]

She stayed quiet for a long time, rubbing circles between his shoulder blades.

"it's alright honey, I'm here" jean said softly.

[hopping-bunny-radio]

[ Billy cried. He cried so hard, wracked with sobs that had been building for so long. All the grief, all the loneliness, the dream of a real home he'd choked down and buried since all of this started. All of it came pouring out in ugly, gasping waves. When he finally did start to calm down, he held onto Jean still, sniffling miserably against her shoulder. ]

I'm so sorry

[ he whispered, his voice wrecked and hoarse. ]

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I—

[ He hiccuped ]

Please don't leave me here. Please. I know I'm supposed to be brave but I can't—I can't—

[cykeandjeanie]

"I'm not leaving you here." She promised, cradling him close.

[hopping-bunny-radio]

Open Rp

[ The rain came down in sheets, just like he knew it would.

It was pouring, and he was still in his stupid pink dress, and it was cold, and his bun was starting to make his head hurt, so he took it out. There's no reason to stick to a stupid memory in his own dreams. But it was quiet. That's all he wanted.

Fawcett was quiet when it rained. The sound of it drowned out everything else, the sirens, the shouting, the ever-present hum of a city that never stopped moving or shut up. The rain made the whole place feel calm. Almost peaceful.

It was an easy memory to stay trapped here.

He could stay here. Heavy and soaking wet and so fucking cold, swinging back and forth instead of taking shelter in the playground like he had done the first time. Instead he was on the swings, going back and forth and back and forth and back and forth, the storm raging on, pelting him with kind of painful pellets of rain, lightning threatening in the sky. Thunder cracking shortly after.

Billy just stayed on the swing.

He had stopped paying attention to his surroundings. What was the point? He knew what was around him. This was all his memories. Every crack in the pavement, the fraying rope that city into his hands, every puddle forming at his feet that he slashed through with every kick, he'd lived it before. He knew how it ended. He knew who showed up. He knew what he'd say.

If he continued the memory from here.

Which he didn't.

He just swung.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Letting the rain wash over him, letting the cold seep into his bones, letting himself be a ghost in a memory that wasn't even real. He hadn't realized someone was coming up behind him. ]

Part 1

[cykeandjeanie]

the rain stopped landing on him, as Jean created a psionic umbrella.

"Hello Billy" she greeted softly, a sympathetic look on her face

[hopping-bunny-radio]

[ Billy stopped swinging when he stopped feeling the rain pelt against his already sopping wet body.

He looked up, confused, at the prism of light refracting through the raindrops, then at Jean. She stood there, solid and real in a way nothing else in this memory was. The rain seemed to part around her, like even the storm knew better than to touch her or more likely her own powers.

Billy looked so much smaller in his own headspace. Smaller than he'd ever let anyone see him. Smaller, in a dress he hated, in a color he hated more. Pink was such a girly color and the frills were ridiculous and infantilizing even while soaked through and plastered down. He looked like a doll. A broken one that had been left out in the rain too long.

It was obvious he had been crying. His eyes were red-rimmed and swollen, his cheeks blotchy. Crying had become pretty much the only thing he could do here, so that's what he did. He cried and mourned and screamed louder than the lightning in this memory of a storm till it all stopped hurting as bad. He tried to smile. It was obviously forced and weak. ]

Jean? How are you—

[ He blinked, water still streaming down his face, dripping off his chin. ]

Right, uh, telepath, right? That makes sense.

[ He laughed a little. A hollow, broken sound that was more reflex than humor. ]

Sorry you had to see me like this. I—uh... yeah. You probably shouldn't stay here.

[cykeandjeanie]

She gently wiped some of the water from his face.

"it's alright honey." Jean replied softly

[hopping-bunny-radio]

You're not supposed to be here.

[ Billy said though he leaned into the touch. He couldn't help it, she was so much warmer than he was. ]

[cykeandjeanie]

"your mind was distressed" she replied, her hand coming to rest on his shoulder

"I couldn't ignore it"

[hopping-bunny-radio]

You should have

[ Billy mumbled, but he was already leaning into her, curling toward her warmth like a flower turning toward the sun. As much as he wanted to push her out of this memory prison, and rot in the corner of his own mind with dignity, he was selfish.

So selfish.

He knew he should tell her to go. Should shove her away before she got trapped too, before the static swallowed her up along with him. Before she saw more of what he'd become and what he was always going to become.

But he just... couldn't.

He wanted to relish in the good for a little while longer. Just a little while. Just enough to remember what it felt like to not be alone. Just long enough to pretend, for one fragile moment, that someone might actually stay this time. His small, rain-cold fingers curled into the fabric of her sleeve. He didn't cry, he was too tired for that now, but his voice cracked when he spoke again.]

You really need to leave Jean.

[ He didn't let go. He didn't want to. ]

[cykeandjeanie]

"It's alright honey" she gently picked him up, holding him close.

"I know you're scared, but I'm here for you"

[hopping-bunny-radio]

[ When she picked him up, Billy held onto her so tightly.

He was so small. Just a kid, maybe seven in age, and way lighter than he should be. His fingers dug into her clothes like she was the only solid thing left in the universe, his face burrowed into the crook of her neck. The pink dress bunched up around him, soaked and cold and ridiculous, but he didn't care. He didn't care about anything except the warmth of her. The solidness of her. The fact that someone was holding him again. He had missed being held so much. Billy didn't want to act like a grown up anymore. He honestly sounded like he was about to start crying again. ]

I'm sorry.

[ The words came out muffled against her shoulder, broken and wet. ]

I'm so sorry. 'm so sorry.

[ He didn't even know what he was apologizing for. For being a burden. For being too weak to save himself. For dragging her into this mess. For existing. For not being a good enough hero. For everything. His small body shook against her, and he couldn't stop the tears this time. ]

I didn't mean to—I never wanted—

[ He gasped, trying to breathe, trying to get the words out. ]

I just wanted to be good. I tried so hard to be good.

[cykeandjeanie]

She stayed quiet for a long time, rubbing circles between his shoulder blades.

"it's alright honey, I'm here" jean said softly.

[hopping-bunny-radio]

Open Rp

[ The rain came down in sheets, just like he knew it would.

It was pouring, and he was still in his stupid pink dress, and it was cold, and his bun was starting to make his head hurt, so he took it out. There's no reason to stick to a stupid memory in his own dreams. But it was quiet. That's all he wanted.

Fawcett was quiet when it rained. The sound of it drowned out everything else, the sirens, the shouting, the ever-present hum of a city that never stopped moving or shut up. The rain made the whole place feel calm. Almost peaceful.

It was an easy memory to stay trapped here.

He could stay here. Heavy and soaking wet and so fucking cold, swinging back and forth instead of taking shelter in the playground like he had done the first time. Instead he was on the swings, going back and forth and back and forth and back and forth, the storm raging on, pelting him with kind of painful pellets of rain, lightning threatening in the sky. Thunder cracking shortly after.

Billy just stayed on the swing.

He had stopped paying attention to his surroundings. What was the point? He knew what was around him. This was all his memories. Every crack in the pavement, the fraying rope that city into his hands, every puddle forming at his feet that he slashed through with every kick, he'd lived it before. He knew how it ended. He knew who showed up. He knew what he'd say.

If he continued the memory from here.

Which he didn't.

He just swung.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Letting the rain wash over him, letting the cold seep into his bones, letting himself be a ghost in a memory that wasn't even real. He hadn't realized someone was coming up behind him. ]

Part 1

[cykeandjeanie]

the rain stopped landing on him, as Jean created a psionic umbrella.

"Hello Billy" she greeted softly, a sympathetic look on her face

[hopping-bunny-radio]

[ Billy stopped swinging when he stopped feeling the rain pelt against his already sopping wet body.

He looked up, confused, at the prism of light refracting through the raindrops, then at Jean. She stood there, solid and real in a way nothing else in this memory was. The rain seemed to part around her, like even the storm knew better than to touch her or more likely her own powers.

Billy looked so much smaller in his own headspace. Smaller than he'd ever let anyone see him. Smaller, in a dress he hated, in a color he hated more. Pink was such a girly color and the frills were ridiculous and infantilizing even while soaked through and plastered down. He looked like a doll. A broken one that had been left out in the rain too long.

It was obvious he had been crying. His eyes were red-rimmed and swollen, his cheeks blotchy. Crying had become pretty much the only thing he could do here, so that's what he did. He cried and mourned and screamed louder than the lightning in this memory of a storm till it all stopped hurting as bad. He tried to smile. It was obviously forced and weak. ]

Jean? How are you—

[ He blinked, water still streaming down his face, dripping off his chin. ]

Right, uh, telepath, right? That makes sense.

[ He laughed a little. A hollow, broken sound that was more reflex than humor. ]

Sorry you had to see me like this. I—uh... yeah. You probably shouldn't stay here.

[cykeandjeanie]

She gently wiped some of the water from his face.

"it's alright honey." Jean replied softly

[hopping-bunny-radio]

You're not supposed to be here.

[ Billy said though he leaned into the touch. He couldn't help it, she was so much warmer than he was. ]

[cykeandjeanie]

"your mind was distressed" she replied, her hand coming to rest on his shoulder

"I couldn't ignore it"

[hopping-bunny-radio]

You should have

[ Billy mumbled, but he was already leaning into her, curling toward her warmth like a flower turning toward the sun. As much as he wanted to push her out of this memory prison, and rot in the corner of his own mind with dignity, he was selfish.

So selfish.

He knew he should tell her to go. Should shove her away before she got trapped too, before the static swallowed her up along with him. Before she saw more of what he'd become and what he was always going to become.

But he just... couldn't.

He wanted to relish in the good for a little while longer. Just a little while. Just enough to remember what it felt like to not be alone. Just long enough to pretend, for one fragile moment, that someone might actually stay this time. His small, rain-cold fingers curled into the fabric of her sleeve. He didn't cry, he was too tired for that now, but his voice cracked when he spoke again.]

You really need to leave Jean.

[ He didn't let go. He didn't want to. ]

[cykeandjeanie]

"It's alright honey" she gently picked him up, holding him close.

"I know you're scared, but I'm here for you"

[hopping-bunny-radio]

Open Rp

[ The rain came down in sheets, just like he knew it would.

It was pouring, and he was still in his stupid pink dress, and it was cold, and his bun was starting to make his head hurt, so he took it out. There's no reason to stick to a stupid memory in his own dreams. But it was quiet. That's all he wanted.

Fawcett was quiet when it rained. The sound of it drowned out everything else, the sirens, the shouting, the ever-present hum of a city that never stopped moving or shut up. The rain made the whole place feel calm. Almost peaceful.

It was an easy memory to stay trapped here.

He could stay here. Heavy and soaking wet and so fucking cold, swinging back and forth instead of taking shelter in the playground like he had done the first time. Instead he was on the swings, going back and forth and back and forth and back and forth, the storm raging on, pelting him with kind of painful pellets of rain, lightning threatening in the sky. Thunder cracking shortly after.

Billy just stayed on the swing.

He had stopped paying attention to his surroundings. What was the point? He knew what was around him. This was all his memories. Every crack in the pavement, the fraying rope that city into his hands, every puddle forming at his feet that he slashed through with every kick, he'd lived it before. He knew how it ended. He knew who showed up. He knew what he'd say.

If he continued the memory from here.

Which he didn't.

He just swung.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Letting the rain wash over him, letting the cold seep into his bones, letting himself be a ghost in a memory that wasn't even real. He hadn't realized someone was coming up behind him. ]

Part 1

[cykeandjeanie]

the rain stopped landing on him, as Jean created a psionic umbrella.

"Hello Billy" she greeted softly, a sympathetic look on her face

[hopping-bunny-radio]

[ Billy stopped swinging when he stopped feeling the rain pelt against his already sopping wet body.

He looked up, confused, at the prism of light refracting through the raindrops, then at Jean. She stood there, solid and real in a way nothing else in this memory was. The rain seemed to part around her, like even the storm knew better than to touch her or more likely her own powers.

Billy looked so much smaller in his own headspace. Smaller than he'd ever let anyone see him. Smaller, in a dress he hated, in a color he hated more. Pink was such a girly color and the frills were ridiculous and infantilizing even while soaked through and plastered down. He looked like a doll. A broken one that had been left out in the rain too long.

It was obvious he had been crying. His eyes were red-rimmed and swollen, his cheeks blotchy. Crying had become pretty much the only thing he could do here, so that's what he did. He cried and mourned and screamed louder than the lightning in this memory of a storm till it all stopped hurting as bad. He tried to smile. It was obviously forced and weak. ]

Jean? How are you—

[ He blinked, water still streaming down his face, dripping off his chin. ]

Right, uh, telepath, right? That makes sense.

[ He laughed a little. A hollow, broken sound that was more reflex than humor. ]

Sorry you had to see me like this. I—uh... yeah. You probably shouldn't stay here.

[cykeandjeanie]

She gently wiped some of the water from his face.

"it's alright honey." Jean replied softly

[hopping-bunny-radio]

You're not supposed to be here.

[ Billy said though he leaned into the touch. He couldn't help it, she was so much warmer than he was. ]

[cykeandjeanie]

"your mind was distressed" she replied, her hand coming to rest on his shoulder

"I couldn't ignore it"

[hopping-bunny-radio]

Open Rp

[ The rain came down in sheets, just like he knew it would.

It was pouring, and he was still in his stupid pink dress, and it was cold, and his bun was starting to make his head hurt, so he took it out. There's no reason to stick to a stupid memory in his own dreams. But it was quiet. That's all he wanted.

Fawcett was quiet when it rained. The sound of it drowned out everything else, the sirens, the shouting, the ever-present hum of a city that never stopped moving or shut up. The rain made the whole place feel calm. Almost peaceful.

It was an easy memory to stay trapped here.

He could stay here. Heavy and soaking wet and so fucking cold, swinging back and forth instead of taking shelter in the playground like he had done the first time. Instead he was on the swings, going back and forth and back and forth and back and forth, the storm raging on, pelting him with kind of painful pellets of rain, lightning threatening in the sky. Thunder cracking shortly after.

Billy just stayed on the swing.

He had stopped paying attention to his surroundings. What was the point? He knew what was around him. This was all his memories. Every crack in the pavement, the fraying rope that city into his hands, every puddle forming at his feet that he slashed through with every kick, he'd lived it before. He knew how it ended. He knew who showed up. He knew what he'd say.

If he continued the memory from here.

Which he didn't.

He just swung.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Letting the rain wash over him, letting the cold seep into his bones, letting himself be a ghost in a memory that wasn't even real. He hadn't realized someone was coming up behind him. ]

Part 1

[cykeandjeanie]

the rain stopped landing on him, as Jean created a psionic umbrella.

"Hello Billy" she greeted softly, a sympathetic look on her face

[hopping-bunny-radio]

[ Billy stopped swinging when he stopped feeling the rain pelt against his already sopping wet body.

He looked up, confused, at the prism of light refracting through the raindrops, then at Jean. She stood there, solid and real in a way nothing else in this memory was. The rain seemed to part around her, like even the storm knew better than to touch her or more likely her own powers.

Billy looked so much smaller in his own headspace. Smaller than he'd ever let anyone see him. Smaller, in a dress he hated, in a color he hated more. Pink was such a girly color and the frills were ridiculous and infantilizing even while soaked through and plastered down. He looked like a doll. A broken one that had been left out in the rain too long.

It was obvious he had been crying. His eyes were red-rimmed and swollen, his cheeks blotchy. Crying had become pretty much the only thing he could do here, so that's what he did. He cried and mourned and screamed louder than the lightning in this memory of a storm till it all stopped hurting as bad. He tried to smile. It was obviously forced and weak. ]

Jean? How are you—

[ He blinked, water still streaming down his face, dripping off his chin. ]

Right, uh, telepath, right? That makes sense.

[ He laughed a little. A hollow, broken sound that was more reflex than humor. ]

Sorry you had to see me like this. I—uh... yeah. You probably shouldn't stay here.

[cykeandjeanie]

She gently wiped some of the water from his face.

"it's alright honey." Jean replied softly

[hopping-bunny-radio]

Open Rp

[ The rain came down in sheets, just like he knew it would.

It was pouring, and he was still in his stupid pink dress, and it was cold, and his bun was starting to make his head hurt, so he took it out. There's no reason to stick to a stupid memory in his own dreams. But it was quiet. That's all he wanted.

Fawcett was quiet when it rained. The sound of it drowned out everything else, the sirens, the shouting, the ever-present hum of a city that never stopped moving or shut up. The rain made the whole place feel calm. Almost peaceful.

It was an easy memory to stay trapped here.

He could stay here. Heavy and soaking wet and so fucking cold, swinging back and forth instead of taking shelter in the playground like he had done the first time. Instead he was on the swings, going back and forth and back and forth and back and forth, the storm raging on, pelting him with kind of painful pellets of rain, lightning threatening in the sky. Thunder cracking shortly after.

Billy just stayed on the swing.

He had stopped paying attention to his surroundings. What was the point? He knew what was around him. This was all his memories. Every crack in the pavement, the fraying rope that city into his hands, every puddle forming at his feet that he slashed through with every kick, he'd lived it before. He knew how it ended. He knew who showed up. He knew what he'd say.

If he continued the memory from here.

Which he didn't.

He just swung.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Letting the rain wash over him, letting the cold seep into his bones, letting himself be a ghost in a memory that wasn't even real. He hadn't realized someone was coming up behind him. ]

Part 1

[cykeandjeanie]

the rain stopped landing on him, as Jean created a psionic umbrella.

"Hello Billy" she greeted softly, a sympathetic look on her face

[galsan12]

[sgskhkt]

Hurrah!!

[timblrdrake]

i’ve started allotting myself exactly 20 minutes to sob uncontrollably before locking in every time i start a new case and i really think it’s improving my investigative skills

[cykeandjeanie]

… yknow what real