cutting_edgex23 | (no subject)

(no subject)

X slips through the door to her apartment, holding it open so Elle can follow her through.

Then she makes an immediate beeline to her kitchen, pulling fish food out of the freezer and heading over to the fish tank.

Once that is taken care of she will not have any more real responsibilities for at least a few hours.

Unless something horrible happens elsewhere. But it won't.

Probably.

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"I have been training. Here."

X tries to answer what she thinks Elle is asking.

"There have not been any attacks. I do not know why."

Beat.

"It is suspicious."

"From those... church guys?"

Not aliens?

"Yes. The Purifiers."

Beat.

"They are regrouping. But we do not know where."

The whereabouts of the resurrected dead are even more important -- to some degree.

"But they will be found."

Her head tilts, slightly.

"There aren't very many of them?"

X shrugs.

"Small cells. They spread out. Disperse."

Beat.

"It is difficult to track the movement of decentralized operations."

Elle finally takes a sip from her glass.

"You're going to find them, anyway."

It's not a question, or even an expectation, but said like some obvious, pre-determined answer.

"Yes."

Two guesses on what will likely happen to them then.

The first one doesn't count.

Elle doesn't nod, or really react. She pulls her legs up onto the sofa, folded so as to take up less room this time.

"Is it - just that?"

X nods a little, moving to sit in the newly-created clear space on the couch.

"Now, yes. For me."

Elsewhere some of the X-men are fighting all sorts of things -- or they will be.

X's battles aren't quite the same. Though she'll help, when necessary.

Elle doesn't say anything.

Because she really has nothing to share. At least nothing she's feeling willing to talk about right now.

So she opens her hands, palms up, slightly held up toward X, and a few bright electric arcs crackle between them.

X tilts her head very slightly, watching the display.

And then --

"There are training rooms. At Greymalkin Industries. If you want."

It is not much like the Danger Cave, though.

The sparks stop, and Elle curls her fingers back.

"I've been practicing forever."

Look at what good it did her.

"It is still useful," X says. Carefully.

"I do not think you like meditation."

Elle slumps slightly more into the couch.

"My Dad's not going to let me out."

Not that he had in the first place.

"Oh."

X falls silent, tucking her own legs up and resting her cheek on her knees.

"You cannot make him?"

Beat.

"Or -- sneak out? People do that. Sometimes."

She pronounces 'sneak out' as if it is a foreign phrase. (Because it is.)

Her head settles against the back of the sofa.

She doesn't even take too long deciding on it:

"I wasn't supposed to be there. With Sylar."

This is where X does look startled.

"It was not your mission?"

Elle's eyes drop, focusing on her hands instead.

"I was supposed to tell someone else."

"You do not like him," X says carefully.

"Sylar."

"It's not about him."

It's not a lie, but also not a defense - it would be better, if she just hated him, him or her father. If she had just wanted to hurt one of them.

"He - should've been easy."

"Because he did not have power."

It is not a question. X is not sure where this is going, but Elle --

X is worried.

"He is good at running?"

"We came into the Bar."

To her, it seems like explanation enough. There isn't a lot like being literally stopped by a god.

"Oh."

Beat.

"And he was not arrested."

It makes sense to her, even as it is not fair to Elle. Or her mission.

Elle doesn't see it as unfair. She could have not missed the first time, tried to hit him before the glass was broken, knocked him out, destroyed the vial, and even without all that -

"He won."

And she lost, and it was her fault.

"His powers cannot be taken away again?"

Beat.

"There are ways. At home."