((This is insanely long, I'm warning you. It clocks in somewhere around 1,300 words. Yeah, I don't know what I was thinking, either. This post is one part narrative, one part threading between a much-needed conversation between Matty and her X-Man.))

It was a rare, rainy day in Genosha. Damien sat perched on his windowsill, his forehead against the cool glass as he stared outside, watching the rain fall. His ribs still ached from where his father had broken them, and there were still the faintest signs of bruises across his cheekbone. His ribs were healed, but sense memory was a bitch, and had always been a far better liar than he ever was.

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Ethan hadn't intended to go out drinking, it had just sort of happened. He had gone out for a walk, disappearing into the nearby town for several hours after his classes were over. Really, he only needed a change of scenery, but as he passed by one of the bars, the thought of having a pint sounded really, truly appealing.

Getting into a fight with another man who was convinced that Ethan had been eyeing him, however, was not. He had been eyeing the man, to be honest, because he was attractive, in a certain rough and tumble sort of way. Only now Ethan found himself roughed and tumbled and very, very drunk. How he had managed to wind his way back home, he wasn't sure.

He was certain, unfortunately, that in his drunken haze, he had forgotten the security code for the front gates. Wincing, he leaned against the wrought iron gate and pushed the intercom button. Incessantly. "Somebody, please, please, let me in," he whined. Dammit, he was hurt and drunk, and if he was found passed out in this spot come morning, he was going to be very irate.