Jewel Calderón sees right through you. (lovelyesque) wrote in theinvincibles, @ 2015-08-06 00:03:00 |
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Entry tags: | !narrative, erin choi, jewel calderón, pen shapiro |
Who: Jewel Calderón [Doppler], Pen Shapiro [Hufflepuff], and Erin Choi [Lima]
Where: The Lock; Erin's Apartment.
When: Sunday, August 2nd and Monday, August 3rd. Various times.
What: The importance of communication, or lack thereof.
Warnings: None!
Status: COMPLETE
Adam Shapiro was balding. His daughter made note of it immediately over the Skype chat, which made his life partner laugh. They were happy, the two men who had fathered and raised her until she was taken away from them; who had seen their daughter through the worst in her life and sacrificed everything to first keep her alive and then to keep her happy. She joked with them easily, attributing her carefree relationship with her parents as to why she could so easily fall into humor over the networks despite her otherwise natural shyness in person. Their conversation lingered for a while on the passage of time, more lighthearted than depressing, until it shifted into the latter. "Are you sleeping alright?" Russell asked, and she knew what he meant. "Better." She nodded, after a moment's hesitation. "You know, I don't think any amount of therapy is going to make them stop." "But you haven't seen a counselor since you arrived." Adam argued lightly, his German accent faded to flattened syllables and a lack of th. "No, I have. I really have. Just not for the PTSD. It's okay now, really, so I lose sleep sometimes. But I — it's normal. I've learned to live with it, I do mean that." Her fathers were unconvinced, and it was all evident in the pause before Adam spoke again. "We just worry about you, sweetheart —" "I know." She nodded, smiling, trying very hard to wrap up this subject quickly. "I know, and I love you both for caring. But it's been sixteen years now and it isn't as bad this year as it was before.” Pen perked a smile. “I think I'm making progress!" It really had been sixteen years, exactly to the day. Sweet Sixteen of missing limbs and failed kidney; of endless nightmares of waking up on an operating table; of tiredness and weakness and stump pain and physical therapy. She knew about Aimee Mullins, Sarah Reinertsen, Barbara Adside, and Amy Purdy, all of them role models. She felt like if it wasn't for this place, she'd be one step closer to being who she wanted to be, regardless of what happened to her as a child, and more like her role models than this fool in a facility who felt stagnated by the limited options provided to her. Pen desired room to learn and grow, to push herself beyond limits, and she was stuck here, a meek, apologetic mouse of a woman. Sometimes the nightmares were brought on by the feeling of being trapped in this place. Trapped physically, emotionally, repetitively. Caught in an endless loop and suffocating for it. Regret that she had a choice in not outing herself as a metahuman and decided to be noble instead. Nightmares came because she was angry at herself. “Tell me something wonderful,” she requested next, as that smile began to quiver. “Any news lately?” There was reluctance to change the subject, but the request of news had the two men furtively glancing sidelong at one another. “We, ah…” Russell pinched his lips together. “We do have some news, actually.” “You do? What is it?” Adam’s face grew light, his hand drawing circles on his partner’s back. “Your father...has asked me to marry him.” Hands darted to cover her mouth, stifling a gasp. Immediately tears sprang to her eyes, certainly aided by the topic preceding this, but genuine nonetheless. “Did you really?” “I did.” Russell beamed. “And your other father said yes.” “Oh my gosh.” She frantically wiped at the wetness pouring down her face. “That’s — that’s amazing. I’m so happy for the both of you.” “You’ll be at the wedding, of course.” Russell continued. “Just a small service. We’ve already picked a rabbi.” “You’ll be getting married here?” “Where else, sweetheart?” Adam answered. “It wouldn’t mean anything if you weren’t there.” “I just — I thought you’d get married somewhere that mattered. Like back in Germany.” Russell nodded. “That’s the honeymoon. We'll be spending a week at the Bodensee.” "Oh wow. That's — I really can't believe this." Something in her chest ached. Her fingers fluttered to her heart. "I don't even have words." "You can bring friends if you'd like." Russell supplied, but his daughter shook her head. "I think I'll save this one for me. You'd end up with just as many agents there as guests." Her fathers were appropriately crestfallen on her behalf, elation shifting into pity. "Rosie, I'm so sorry —" "Oh gosh. Papa." Pen laughed, furiously rubbing her eyes. "It's okay. It's really okay. You'll keep me updated, right? Maybe I'll make, I don't know. How about your ties?" "That sounds perfect, Rosie." Adam murmured. They spoke for a few more minutes before she couldn't bear it any longer, signing off with a sob. Of grief or joy, she didn't know. But she dressed in her running clothes and left to do laps at the gym. It was impossible to know who to respond to first. Although she Skyped to talk to her mother, it seemed that her brother and his fiancée were over. And so was her cousin Beltran and his wife and three kids. There was an immediate barrage of questions from the children as to what it was like being so far away, how was America, had she seen cousin Manny now that he moved to Kokomo? "Kokomo?" Jewel echoed, frowning. "Manny lives in Dallas!" "No no!" Her mother answered, holding her nephew's rascally son in her arms. "Manny moved to Kokomo! Emelina is in...ah —" The child squirmed out. "Austin? With her husband." "Wait, no no." She put up her hands, brackets rattling. All very expensive, all very beautiful. "Emelina is not married, mama, I spoke to her — um." Oh god. When was the last time they spoke? Why was she hearing about all of this now? Certainly for everyone else, the news had been passed back and forth and upside down, but this was the first she’d heard about it. In speaking weekly with her family, this wasn’t stuff she shouldn’t have been hearing about long after the fact. Like a loosening wheel, something was coming undone, and outside of her control. “Jewel.” Her mother tutted. “I told you about Emelina’s wedding months ago.” Months? That wasn’t possible. “I sent you pictures of the despacho, you silly girl! Honestly.” “Mama.” Jewel implored. “I don’t remember seeing them. Maybe I forgot to open the email.” “Typical of you to be so forgetful.” Her mother rolled her eyes. It was never meant in ill will, but for all the charisma that Jewel wielded, she was widely considered the space case of her family. Flighty. Unreliable. “No, I can look up the email now.” She sighed heavily, minimizing the Skype window to search her account. “Jewel, look it up later, right now —” “No, I’ve got it, mama —” “Jewel —” “Stop!” The young woman slammed a hand down on the desk she shared with Grace, one of her bracelets snapping under the impact. “Damnit!” Another sigh. “What happened?” “I broke my bracelet.” She exhaled, frustrated and flustered to the point of being pink. “It’s just a bracelet, mamita.” “It was expensive.” “So maybe this is a sign. Use your money in the future to save up! I thought we were coming up to see you for Christmas.” This was the voice of her brother, Manuel, who was the reason that his younger cousin was designated as Manny. Jewel was surrounded by Manuels. And though the voice of her older brother tinted her very despondent moment with happiness, the interruption and the suggestion were poorly timed. “I can buy myself nice things and save for your plane tickets at the same time, Manuel.” She argued, pouting. “It’s not my fault that twenty of you want to fly up here.” Her mother opened her mouth to say something perhaps not entirely forgiving, but Manuel beat her to it. “Hey! We’re saving money here too. Don’t forget. We miss you.” Jewel was too grumpy, twirling her snapped bracelet in her fingers, to entirely want to reciprocate the feeling. The longer they were apart, the more things fell apart. The more they became like strangers to her, thousands of miles away with lives she couldn’t keep track of. There were weddings she missed (and apparently forgot), nieces and nephews and newborn relatives she’d never held, funerals she couldn’t attend. Weeks ago she’d fought APEX alongside other metahumans and agents in order to keep the world safe. But her world was a prison. It was unfair. “I miss you, too,” she relented. “Good.” He smiled. “Tell Grace we send our love.” “Are you leaving? You just showed up.” “Laila is having a baby shower. We have to get ready.” Her response was a pout; a silent beg that he not leave her alone with their mother as they all cleared the room, readying themselves for the celebration of her sister’s second child. But Manuel only laughed, pressed a kiss from his hand to the screen, and disappeared. Jewel and her mother fell into silence for a moment before they spent the next five minutes trying to talk over each other about the importance of bracelets. When at last Manauia signed off to go prepare, Jewel rubbed her eyes with venom, letting out a low screech of agitation. Three weeks. She hadn’t heard from Tanner in three weeks. Erin stared at the little empty dot next to his name. Drifted focus to the text box. Hey, are you there? Saturday, July 18th. 8:42 PM It looked pathetic and desperate, like some clingy girlfriend rather than a concerned older sister. But he was the only family she had left. She’d fought for Tanner, who was now an alpha and an operative in Portland. He was a young man now; no longer the frightened teenager with his pimply, narrow face plastered all over the newspapers for the unintentional slaughter of their parents. So much had changed, but the bond between eldest sister and youngest son had remained resolute; her guiding force as an agent and her last string of humanity. But the string seemed to be frayed. Three weeks and not a sound. She knew she had to loosen her grip, but her hold was a vise, her dependency on him too great. Instead of sending him another message on top of the one she just wrote, Erin closed her computer, deciding that she’d better get sleep now if she wanted to be clear-headed for tomorrow’s patrol. There was no point in waiting. |