The innate feeling that twins seem to have, it was tingling in Jeanne-Marie. When she was younger, and something would feel like it was pulling at her emotions, long before the break in her psyche that lead to the creation of Aurora, Jeanne-Marie would feel phantom pains when she hadn't hurt herself, feel an overwhelming sense of sadness and want to cry even if she hadn't experienced anything sad. It all made sense later, when she knew of Jean-Paul. Since Walter had changed her genetic make-up, she'd been lacking that sense, that feeling that Jean-Paul was out there.
Yet, being near him again, with all that he was going through, Jeanne-Marie imagined she could feel it again. It was the same sense of panicky fear she felt when her mind was at war with itself. But she was calm in that moment, no reason for anything to come up. She opened her eyes, glancing around her silent room. Her muscles relaxed out of the pose she'd been holding, her daily regimen to try and keep herself as unstressed as she could. Moving to place her feet flat on the ground, Jeanne-Marie moved, instinct telling her where to go.
The sound of glass breaking quickened her pace, Jeanne-Marie pausing to press her ear against the door as she arrived at Jean-Paul's room. There were no sounds of a scuffle, just the quickening breathing of Jean-Paul. Hesitating only slightly, Jeanne-Marie rapped her knuckles against the wood. "Jean-Paul, ça va?" (Jean-Paul, are you okay?)