John Jones is a manhunter (johnjones) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-02-26 23:42:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, emma frost (white queen), j'onn j'onzz (martian manhunter) |
"Let me help."
Who: John and Emma
Where: Mindfield/real life
What: John feels Emma’s pain
When: Monday night, 02/25
Warnings/Rating: PG-13 for mention of the current plot medical situation and angst
Status Complete
Jonn had been feeling the headache since midday and wasn’t sure why. He had been experiencing bouts of sadness, anger, and panic, and then a glacial calmness, each with a sudden feeling of importance, and each just as suddenly gone.
By evening, he was a little grouchy, and had already had to apologize to AJ for it. He went to lay down in his den, leaving the whole room dark, and lay out. When he relaxed, he suddenly felt knowledge fill his mind. This hadn’t been his mind, or his feelings. This had been something outside. It seemed rather obvious when he thought about it, and he almost shook in relief as he let himself relax yet more and closed his eyes, focusing his mind outward, reaching for that mind that had somehow touched his.
There was almost amusement as he recognized her. Huhn.
And he spoke, softly, to her mind. Not the dream one he had met before, but the waking one.
Hello, Emma? This is John Jones. I am sorry for your pain. May I help you?
Emma was at home trying to get some sleep. She’d been kicked out of the hospital (well, they strongly suggested she leave, and she’d taken the advice), hours ago, but she was still just laying on the couch watching the news. The cats were snuggled all around her, lending their warmth and comfort.
The voice in her head made her jump. Nobody had contacted her like that before. But she could tell the presence was friendly. The woman in the back of her mind reared its head, and this time she didn’t tamp it back down. Maybe she couldn’t shut that portion of herself out forever.
I don’t know how you could, Mr. Jones.
He warily avoided that other self for the moment, and just spoke to the normal Emma. Well, that depends on what you want. One idea is this; I can feel your pain and your tiredness and the combination that is making it hard for you to sleep. I could ease you into slumber, and let you sleep fully, without dreams, until the morning, so that you would be able to face this with all your strength.
He spoke softly, gently,and yet confidently to her mind. He knew now he had the experience in his dream self, and since he had embraced becoming a mix of the two, he knew he could and would wield it with confidence.
That solves my immediate problem, but I’m curious to hear what the other option is. She would make a fine businesswoman when the time came.
Heh. You have an interesting feel to you, madame. There was a warm chuckle in his ‘voice’, and a smile to his mind’s touch. I could link to you, and help you try to look for those you have lost.. It may not work at all. But it is an option we can pursue, once you are rested and at your strength. With a few days of preparation we could, as they say, reach farther, together, and try to hook those who have gone from their rightful place.
He did not know if they were dead or in another world, or another time, or transformed into Hrothgri, a strange Martian plant-animal, but he would try with her. He knew the pain of losing loved ones.
There was a hint of dry humor in her voice when she ‘spoke’ again, but the rest of it was all frustration and impatience. So all you can do right now is put me to sleep. The impatience and frustration gave way to pain, fear, and loneliness. She could face anything, but it was much easier with Scott. It felt like part of herself had gone missing.
A hesitation, then a softer speech. I could allow you to feel his sense in your mind. To remember him more clearly, and to recall memories with more solid feel to them. It would only last a short time, but it could be a comfort. I know what it is to lose those you care about. Old loss, old pain, was there, then shoved away, hidden.
Emma wasn’t dumb, and she was in a bad enough mood to press the issue a little. Would you have done that, given the option? There was a hint of disdain at the idea. Emma Frost did not need a security blanket, she could handle life as it was.
Sometimes, yes. It was an admission really.But not as anything normal, no. There was approval at her thoughts.
All else I can do is simple and short-lived. I could give you a moment of communion, but I do not know if you or your other self are ready for it. There was no belittlement in his mental tone, only acknowledgement.
Communion? The word brought up mental images of church, and being bored to death. She was certain that wasn’t his meaning.
John’s mind was fuller, deeper now. The two parts more connected on this matter. Mind-sharing. A momentary touch between the minds that is... this is telepathy, like humans use. Martians, the people of my dreamself, used communion. Over time, my dreamself learned to use telepathy to communicate with humans, but the communion is deeper. It is like the term Grokking. Sharing not just thought, but self, emotion, and mind. It is not a revelation of all of one’s self, as one would think, if one bared the mind in telepathy completely, but it is more intimate and thus... no one experiencing communion can feel alone, not for awhile anyway. There was a sense of joy, of warmth, and of welcome, to the words.
As Emma listened, she came to understand both its usefulness, and why he might offer it. She also understood why she couldn’t accept. If she couldn’t be a united entity herself, she couldn’t truly embrace him. There was no need for words, she knew that he would pick up her new understanding.
And he did. Which was why he had said what he had. Instead, he offered simply warmth and compassion, to both halves of her mind.
Do you wish me to help you sleep tonight and then start working on trying to find them tomorrow? It will, as I said, take a few days to be ready, but I am willing. John had always believed in helping others, and J’onn was almost the same, exactly, in that.
Yes. I hope we’re able to find them, or at least find some evidence that they’re safe. She opened herself to him a little more, which meant opening up to herself as well. In the real world, she curled up into herself, and began to cry. It hurt a lot, but it wasn’t the worst hurt she’d ever felt. Losing Scott wouldn’t destroy her. It would simply end this version of her, for better or worse.
John reached out to her and mentally embraced her, first, sharing compassion and warmth. A mind hug that was, he sensed, as much as she was prepared for there. Then his mind gently smoothed hers toward sleep and that of her other self as well. He gently stimulated her mind to produce the endorphins and reactions that would allow it to work gently and keep her under for the hours needed for true rest.
He worked to gently press her mind to keep dreams away, this one night, a thing that would not harm her, and to deep sleep anyway, allowing her full rest and recuperation. Even as he did that, he planted a seed of knowledge, to spread in her mind while she slept, so she would know it when she woke, of the search parameters and how it would work. And then with one last touch, he sent her mind, both parts, to deep sleep, and departed, to let her rest and recover, at least this small amount.
As he worked, Emma found herself relaxing, growing drowsy. She closed her eyes, and the cats settled again, pressing their warm bodies against her. Now it was enough, and she stroked one softly as she drifted off into blessed, dreamless sleep.
FIN.