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Her Pride is Suffering; Union Jack
Topic Started: Jul 8 2013, 11:21 PM (642 Views)
Spitfire
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Date: May 22nd
Time: 1.30am




Night and day had quickly merged into one. What time it actually was, Jac didn’t know and no longer really cared. Rolling over on her bunk, the blonde stared at the ceiling of her cell, wondering again just how she had come to be there. Really, it was all her own fault anyway. Spitfire was pretty certain by now that she was stupid on a medical level.

Ever since she had come back from 1945, she’d felt more lost than ever before. At first, she had taken the chance to run, fleeing the scene and she had ended up back in the Savage Land for a couple of weeks while she tried to come to terms with everything. The X-men had given her use of the Utopia base, but now the temple was still and quiet, it was like living in a very hot graveyard. Eventually, it became suffocating. All her purpose had dried up. Maybe the X-men would have taken her in, let her do something for them, anything, but she felt guilty. She’d put them at too much risk. As before, she wasn’t scared for her own hide but all those kids who she’d taught how to play football and jump rope didn’t deserve to have any more pain and terror landed on their heads because she was probably on some kind of death list. Scratch probably.

As much as she was trying to avoid the Brotherhood...Part of it still hurt. While she had never intentionally joined, it had become a big part of what she had built her life around. It had given her meaning. Magneto had...

Screwing her face up, Jac rolled over on the bunk again, drawing her knees up to her chest and shuddering. Like a junkie in rehab, she was struggling to piece together with the remnants of her past lives. Being an Acolyte had really meant something to her, despite the violence and the horror. All the times she had spoken with Magneto, sat in his office, listened to him and freely given him her opinion, the girl had really trusted in him that it wouldn’t always be that way, the blood and death. Always, she had told herself that she was a soldier, doing bad things because that was what war meant. Then it had all gone away. All of it, just lost.

Would she still be with the Brotherhood now, if Raven hadn’t found that boy in the countryside? Spitfire didn’t want to answer that question any more than she wanted to answer SHIELD’s questions. Most of her intelligence was outdated, making her kind of useless in some respects. But...it wasn’t just like they could let her go and wander off. It was too dangerous. The speedster couldn’t do much but sit in the cell, cuffed and isolated from the world.

At least she could stop running now. She’d gone from Utopia to...wandering. Jim had helped her, tried talking her around and setting her on the right path and it meant a lot to her. He had listened and been patient, helped her to understand what had happened in the past and had just been there for her. But, he was too much of a good pers...android...to get stuck with her permanently. Spitfire didn’t want to endanger him, no matter what he said to try and contradict her. He just didn’t deserve that, no one did. Exhaling, her blue eyes slid to the door. There was a slit in it, a mockery of a window. Home comforts were few and far between in her lockdown. It wasn’t so bad though, considering they could have just tried and executed her on live television and had done with her.

Being allowed to see Pietro now and then helped. Even Wisdom was good company on the couple of times he came down helped, although Jac made a mental note to apologise to him the next time she saw him, for the time she’d tried to smack him silly with her dinner tray. Being nulled made her cranky and being locked up made her surly. Being both, on board the Helicarrier made her borderline psychotic. If she had furniture, she’d be chewing it. The main good thing about being there was that if someone like Exodus did attack for the sake of killing her for her crimes, then at least the people here were soldiers. It was morbid to think like that, but those kids at Xaviers, their little faces, it was too unbearable to think of them getting hurt because of her.

It was all just a right royal mess...SHIELD didn’t seem to know what to do with her. The Brotherhood wanted to burn her from the inside out. The X-men...well they had too many problems to have to worry about her... All she could do was to sit and stew on these problems. Think about her Grandfather, her brother. Her parents. Everyone else she had ever let down, everything that she had ever messed up. Spitfire felt ill, her stomach knotting tightly. Maybe they should just kill her. All in all it would be easier on everyone.

Her eyes went to the slot in the door again and she shivered. It was almost as if she was being watched, although realistically she knew that she usually was being monitored, and regarded like some kind of caged animal. The sane corner of her mind understood it all, but it didn't mean that she hated it any less and just wanted to drop out of the bottom of the floor.

“Go on then, toss us a peanut or sod off and watch paint dry,” she sighed, tiredly. Jac figured that she was just paranoid and talking to herself. A product of being tired, both mentally and physically. Curling up tighter, she pulled the thin pillow down over her face. Maybe she should just go to sleep and ignore the world for a few hours and hope that the nightmares didn’t come again.
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Union Jack
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Echoes of tip tapping greeted every step the Englishman took, his boots thudding with purpose against the metallic flooring, sounding into the dull chorus played by the orchestra of noises the vast and impressive Helicarrier made around Joseph Chapman the further he descended. The man behind the mask of Union Jack had to hand it to S.H.I.E.L.D., the carrier was far more remarkable in-person compared to the footage and intel Joey had prior knowledge of, the immense construct did no justice to what he had seen second hand. Yet that impression of wide-eyed wonder had long been washed away. With the night late, Chapman wasn't walking the hallways and passages to get better acquainted with his new-found surroundings, hands gripping a thick file that had slowly swelled in the last few years, the topic of focus; his former girlfriend.

Greeted by a pair of solemn salutes from the two armed operatives assigned to guard a nondescript cell door, Union Jack returned their gesture with the airs and graces of a man that had worn the military uniform for several years. Though that affirmation of duty did little to hide the growing trepidation Joey had consciously become more aware of since the moment Director Hill informed him that Jacqueline Falsworth had been captured. To this point, Joey had been dedicated to finding the blonde terrorist since his induction into S.T.R.I.K.E. that he'd never truly anticipated what he'd do, say or feel once she was in custody. Only now the paradox of his emotions became so clear that he physically felt the odds and uncertainty he wasn't ready for, duty and compassion simply wasn't compatible, and what had been expected to be the answer to so many problems now felt all the more harder to face.

Protocol required that Joey was dressed in full armour, the Union Jack emblazoned upon his chest, royal blue ceramic mask hiding the majority of his features behind an impassive visage that only allowed his blue-green gaze to be seen. Arrangements made due to the fact outside of official circles, beyond S.H.I.E.L.D. and S.T.R.I.K.E. no person was supposed to know that Joey Chapman and Union Jack were one and the same. Yet stood before the cell door, fingers skating over the electrical interface, tapping in the key pass command to unseal the locked entrance, it wasn't just protocol that required Joey's identity remain a secret from their enemies. Tonight Chapman needed that protection himself, needing for now to hide from her.

From a woman that was once so important to him, he'd've done anything for her.

It was a cruel twist to see how far the young couple had come since those long years after the Apocalypse took their lives and tossed them into the winds. Joey had become Union Jack, an identity championed by the working-class of Great Britain, where as his lover had become Spitfire, the mutant terrorist and murdering hand of Magneto. What had once existed however had long been forgotten behind the expectations of his duty, a responsibility that Chapman had whole heartedly dedicated himself to. But even now, after so many years, the questions he had fought to ignore and bury had quickly taken root in his reluctance to face her. Indecision that still prevented him from tapping in the last key with which to open the door. "Sir?"

Joey blinked, glancing back to the guard peering over, wondering why he had stalled for as long as he had. Nodding by way of answer, Chapman let the tip of his index finger find its score, the door gently sliding away to reveal the dank quarters that Falsworth now knew as 'home'. "That'll be all, lads. You two take a ten minute break. I have this under control." Voice hinting of his cockney roots, disguised under the metallic sound the vocal receptors of his mask crafted, even though it was Joey, it didn't sound like Joey. "Thank you, sir." Stepping into the cool interior, the Kent-born operative made the short way to the frigid table locked down in the centre of the room as the door resealed behind him. Never once letting his gaze drift over to where he felt her presence. Stoic, professional, his actions made him seem like the typically British operative, showing no delusions of remorse, uncaring for their enemy.

Hiding all the close links the two shared underneath the modern re-imagining of the hero her family once stood for.

Placing the file atop the cold frame fixed permanently in-place by resins and concrete, the paper folder rested perfectly square in the centre of the wide surface, as Joey gracefully eased himself into the vacant fixed metallic chair. Only then did he let his blue-green eyes lift to explore for her. Brows creased beneath the blue facial distortion as the Englishman found her, looking timid, afraid and tired. How did she ever come to this? She was always so buoyant, full of life, full of passion. Yet like her brother she had changed in ways Joey could not understand nor want to comprehend. The world certainly wasn't black and white, but there are some lines Joey would refuse to ever cross. As difficult as it might ever become to remember those limits, you knew they always existed.

Taking stock of the oversized orange jumper suit, prisoner identification number tagged to her chest, then spying the cuff bound around her ankles, preventing her the use of any of her mutant abilities, Joey silently sighed. Another truth she hid from him. Maybe it was all a lie. Their childhood, their friendship, the teasing and playful days they all shared. Maybe in the end, the differences between he and they, between Joey, Brian and Jacqueline were simply too wide. That for a time they pretended to know each other, where in fact, he knew nothing about them at all. Mutants. Brotherhood. Terrorists. Joseph no longer saw the Falsworth siblings for what they once were. When the female finally drew her gaze out from beneath the pillow she was hiding under, Joey impassively motioned for the fixed seat on the opposite side of the table.

"Miss Falsworth..."

Only giving sound to words that allowed him to continue his insistence to remain distant, the metallic voice echoed under the compact walls. The one way screen to his left seeming indistinct and the same to every other wall yet allowing her observers to constantly watch the female from beyond in addition to the four cameras mounted about the ceiling. Nothing Jac could do in here would not be seen. Sleep. Eat. Shit. Her entire human freedoms were stolen away. Stripped bare, she seemed so frail. And whilst they appeared alone, that fact couldn't be any further from the truth.

Lowering his hand, Joey remained the picture of professional ethics, duty beyond his own uncertain desires. "I'm a British Officer and here in the capacity as Special Tactical Reserve for International Key Emergencies Liaison to Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division." It wasn't so much what he said, as it was what he didn't say. Jac knew full well what he was without the need for long winded introductions. The blue mask, the red, white and blue flag upon his chest. His presence as Union Jack had been well circulated in the media for years now. And given the personal significance that had for her, Joey knew full well the blonde would know what he was. Just not who.

"I have a few questions for you." Fingers deftly unweaving the elasticated seal on the file, Chapman began to slowly reveal the contents of the file that documented all the known terrorist acts Jacqueline Falsworth had committed. The top of that pile of reports and testimonies lay the pictures of the deceased Smith family. The husband, wife and two children that she had a hand in murdering.
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Spitfire
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It had kind of gotten easy to ignore the cameras in her cell. But ignoring the bloke who was suddenly sat there...? Sitting up, she swung her legs down from the bunk. Her overalls were too large, so the sleeves and legs had been rolled up, giving her an almost comical appearance. At first, Jac wondered if she was having some kind of dream or hallucination. Closing her eyes, she opened them again slowly. He was still there. He spoke and she took her time in following the instructions, standing and approaching the table with deliberate slowness. Stopping, Jac leaned forward, resting her palms down on the table as she stared at him.

At first, her face remained passive, but then something shifted in her eyes and she sat down, keeping her hands on the table. “Am I supposed to be impressed?” the speedster asked in a tone that smacked of defeat clinging to the remnants of defiance. Despite her jibe, she wasn’t really sure what she was feeling about this situation. Maybe it was just karma being evil or something. Perhaps she deserved this. There was a lot to regret, a lot to feel bad about and while she took a lot of the responsibility for what had happened on to her own shoulders, Spitfire knew that to a degree, she had been used while in the Brotherhood. Only now, she really understood what Havok had said to her during one of their meetings which typically involved him arresting her then letting her go. They got under your skin. For a while she had been okay with that, trying to push away the bloodshed, disassociate herself from doing it, so that it was just like watching a video nasty. Havok would understand...but he wasn’t there.

Looking down, she saw the files and her stomach turned into an uneasy knot. “You’ve all been asking me lots of questions already. I’m not about to start giving you all different answers just because you’re waving patriotism in my face.”

Sitting up straight, she looked him in the eye, although her composure was a thin veil that clung on until the bitter end. For another minute, she sat with her lips clamped tightly together to stop them from trembling until the former Acolyte was sure she could speak without faltering. “Go on then. Get on with it. I’ve not got all day or anything...Stick the knife in along with everyone else.”
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Union Jack
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Sensing the female rise, Joey ignored the reaction to look up, erecting unseen walls around any sense of feeling his heart might've remembered for the female, and focused solely on his duty. It defined him, more so now than ever. Blue-green eyes lowered on the file and its numerous contents. Reports, photos, dossiers all delivering insight into Jacqueline's rampage of terror with the Brotherhood. Silently he took out the most graphic of photographs, starting with the assassination of Senator Adam Smith, and the murder of his wife and two children, then adding to them with captured images of other atrocities. The destruction of Hoover Dam and the assault on a secret military facility. Every ghastly scene captured. From charred bodily remains to drowned morbid corpes. All serving as a testimony to the brutality a woman he once loved had committed.

Only once Jacqueline broke her own silence did Joey look up on the defiant female, the photos now laid out bare on the table surface. The pit of his stomach twisted, a reaction to the blonde's lack of remorse, to see her here and now like this even having disregarded their relationship so long ago still had a profound effect on the young Englishman. It was hard to not be blinded by the inner anger he felt lingered. How could you do this Jac? Clamping his teeth together, jaw locking, biting back at those personal feelings, Chapman took a few seconds before the Englishman calmly responded, yet even then there was a hint of desperation to his tone, "No. You are supposed to be mortified. Remorseful. Certainly not impressed." The operative knew she may have been referring more to the uniform he wore than the evidence he placed before her, but that no longer mattered. Any effect his attire might have on his former lover, was hers to deal with. Just like all the damage she had caused as a result of her actions.

Having heard first hand from Hill and Wisdom of how Jacqueline had been compliant with S.H.I.E.L.D.'s investigations, responsive to their questions, it didn't excuse her. There was so much she had to be made accountable to. In truth, given the blonde's arrest on American soil, Joey had little idea what would happen to Jacqueline. If he were to assume, then Jacqueline Falsworth (in his eyes) was just waiting for a Judge somewhere to point her to the nearest electric chair. His Jac. Something deep down hated that idea, but right now there was so very little he could do. If she were arrested by S.T.R.I.K.E. then at least she'd stand trial in Britain, even with a life sentence she'd have time to atone. Have time to see her parents. But as things stood, Joey doubted she'd ever be given such opportunity. Lips twisting with disdain as the female suggested he was here only to stick the knife in, a crack surfaced in the walls he had placed around his heart, blue-green eyes shining with passion beneath the mask as he shot his gaze back to her.

"You think that's my only cause for being here, 'to stick the knife in'?" Reeling back his sharp retort, Joey regathered his composure. "Through your association with the criminals known as Magneto, Pyro, Primal and Exodus, you are accountable for the deaths of dozens of innocent people. Even more injured because of your vile actions and assaults." A finger stabbed on the pictures resting between them, pointing out each that she had a hand in crafting. Forcing his former lover to face the cost of life her actions had wrought. Quickly he returned to the file, hands burying into the reports until he found the more recent images that the dossier contained. Images of London, 2013. Tossing the file aside, the young Englishman slammed the images onto the table, one by one whilst he read out the locations of where the pictures were taken.

"Piccadilly Circus. Westminster. Oxford Street..." Bodies raped, tortured, bloodied to death. Faces beaten to the point the skull and brain were just masses of flesh and bone smudged into the pavement. "...Covent Garden. Vauxhall. Peckham. Just a handful of places. There are hundreds more like this from every corner and street within the emm-twenty-five." The brutal devastation was graphically horrific and till that black day, unimaginable. Anyone caught in the conflict, witness to that dreadful day carried such an despair it was sickening. Tormenting every thought. You couldn't forget what you saw. You couldn't wash that memory away. And Joey was right in the middle of it. "Thousands upon thousands dead. Countless injured. Over eight million suffering severe psychological trauma because of the depravity inflicted upon the City of London. Men. Women... Children."

One of the blackest days in Britain's proud history. "For all the tragedy you wrought as a member of the terrorist organisation known as 'The Brotherhood', your actions serve as a root cause for this disgusting and cowardly attack." An event that hardened Joey's sensitivities to any feelings that she may have stirred. Media outcry demanded blood, and the consensus looked to anyone that might have been held accountable, even if those ties between Exodus's actions that grim day and those within the Brotherhood weren't so strong, to some it no longer mattered. "Miss Falsworth, in the eyes of the British Government you are as much to blame as Exodus, by mere association. In the eyes of the British Public, you are but one reason why Britain should reinstate the death penalty."

Voice firm, metallic thanks to his mask, slowly its volume levelled as the S.H.I.E.L.D. Liaison looked upon the female before him. "I'm not here to stick any knife in, you've done enough damage to yourself without my aid. I am here to prevent any more suffering to the British people, and I am here to prevent any further possible tragedies befalling 'our' country. Our home." The former soldier wondered if there was much of his Jac remaining. The one that loved her country, and its part her family had played in its history. The loving, caring girl that got inside his head. He could see the defiance she held onto begin to crumble the longer Union Jack remained sat before her. "I understand you may not like looking on me given what I represent. I know the extent of your grandfather's service to his country. I know of your father's service to his country. I am here to prevent his son making the same mistakes his daughter made."

Waiting for the blonde to realise the words he had spoken, Joey lowered his tone again. Speaking with a truth and honesty that did in some way touch on the feelings he held beneath that mask. "Miss Falsworth, right now you have very few options left to you. These steel walls will likely be the only walls you will see for a very long time. Instead I'm here to provide you with the opportunity to stop any more shame befalling your mother and father. I believe you are telling the truth regarding Exodus but I'm not here for just him." Clasping his hands together to prevent himself from reaching out to Jac, Chapman leant forward, elbows resting atop the surface, his blue-greens burrowing into her blues, another crack splintering through those hidden walls. "Jacqueline... Help me find your brother. Help me get Brian away from these sick bastards before he is used to do something he will always regret."
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Spitfire
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“How do you know I don’t feel remorse? Guilt? That I didn’t spend weeks crying myself sick and wishing I could have just died? Just because I’m not sobbing on my knees for you doesn't mean I don’t regret things,” her words were dull, tired. Already she was trying to distance herself from this, float out of her body and be in another place. She had been making some way with therapists and agents of SHIELD and Wisdom. Pete was alright, really. He knew she wasn’t evil and psychotic, so it was easier to talk to him as he wanted to help her without treating her like a bit dropped off the crazy train.

“You’re absolutely here to stick the knife in. You want me to suffer, because you clearly don’t think I feel bad enough,” her blue eyes sluggishly slid to the wall. One of the worst things about being nulled was it made her depressed, genuinely so. The first time she’d been nulled, she had seriously considered killing herself. When she had been in the Savage Land, she had considered just ending it, save everyone the trouble of her existence. Jac had also considered just staying in 1945. Maybe it would have been easier on everyone.

Glancing down at the Smith photos, Spitfire remembered shooting the mother in the head. Afterwards, she had been sick, sobbed, but her mind had tried to find the reason and logic within it. Anything to make it easier. If she hadn't been able to find strength through purpose and cause, then she would have easily curled up and died or just had her throat cut. Was there any point in telling him any of that? He wouldn't believe her, even if she tried.

Numb, she stared as the photographs were slammed down in front of her. Was this really her fault? “Okay, blame me for this too. It’s okay,” her voice carried on in the dull tone. “You hate me. I can understand why. I’m not especially proud of myself, but I did what I had to do with the life I was left with. Look up July 20th 2009 sometime.”

“I’m not responsible for Exodus’s actions though. If you think I really enabled him, then you need to wake up. That man enables himself and always will. I never really trusted him. He’d blow up every Helicarrier if he knew I might be on one of them, just to kill me.” Spitfire started to twist down her sleeves around her skinny hands. “I can’t really talk about it though.”

There was a lot she couldn't talk about, either because she couldn't or didn't want to. Even the good she’d done, how she’d lived and helped the people of Xavier’s Displaced Mutants Gone Native, but right now that would all sound cheap, like she was trying to buy excuses and pity. Jac looked him in the eyes again, stiffening in her seat, before looking away again, staring at the blank wall of her cell. Only as he spoke about her brother did she come alive. Standing, the blonde kicked her chair over, turning her back to the flag clad hero.

“You don’t get to ask me about him. Get the hell out! Who do you think you are? I tried to warn him off but he never bloody listened to a word I said. Then I had to run, I didn’t even know I’d never be going back, on some death list for any side that fancies shooting me in the head first! It was never supposed to be like this, he never - if you think I knew where he was, I’ve really just left him there for eighteen months? When I left, I sent him a message saying he should probably get out for a week or two until I got in touch. I didn’t know what was happening so I couldn’t tell him any more. It was too dangerous. For him.”

Tired, her shoulders slumped and she put her head in her hands, but still with her back to him. “You’re so absolutely bloody clueless. Now get the hell out before I smack that mask sideways off your face. Prick. Waving my file around. You don’t even know half of it, but you’ve already made your mind up, haven’t you?”

Closing her eyes, she gave a heavy, tired sigh. Today was a Very Bad Day. “You might as well have me executed to save someone else the jobs and be done with me, if you think so little of me. I’ve had enough of life.”
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Union Jack
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"What do you regret then Jac? You're right. All I have is this file. These pictures of what happened. Reports, information. I know what you've been part of since you arrived in New York, I've read enough to know what I'm supposed to think." Now sat all the more closer, Jacqueline looked even worse. Drained of the exuberance he once considered insurmountable, clothes baggy and heavy, far too big for her small frame. Dejected and pitiful, it was hard for the man behind the flag to remain detached from what he saw as the Englishman responded, trying to draw out exactly what had happened to Jacqueline after the last time he had seen her."But I don't know why. You want me to listen? Sure, I'll listen. I'm not those suits in Westminster that want your head. I don't hate you, Jac...But I don't know you."

She kissed him, he held her. They stayed that way for seconds. Minutes. Her slender form held in his broad shoulders. The scent that drew into his lungs was sweet, enticing him to remain just a little longer. Another call for those boarding the flight back to Cologne came. The man wanted to ignore it but pulled away. The woman held on. 'I'll be all right', he said. 'You better bloody be', she said. They kissed again. Harder. Reluctantly she let him escape, bravado held his smirk high as the soldier refused to show any fear in front of the woman he was falling for. Stepping away, grabbing his bag, walking backwards for as long as the Englishman could to keep his gaze on the blonde.

Chapman would board that plane for Germany, return to his battalion's headquarters at Paderborn and within weeks would depart for Iraq. To serve his country as an officer of 5 RIFLES. He expected to see Jac again. Was confident that he'd come through his first operation, not through careless arrogance, just something deep down within kept telling the young Englishman that there was more for them. The soldier would never have expected their reunion to be like this however, four years after that cold wintry day at Heathrow. It never made sense to him in all the days since he had donned the mask of Union Jack, that the lover that held him so tight, that had wanted him for as long as they knew each other, would become what he saw in front of him.

"What I do know, is who you once were." And he knew that better than most. "The girl tha' grew up in Maidstone. Daughter of Montgomery and Katherine, little sister of Brian. Always full of energy, you wouldn't si' still for a second. Always had a bloody big mouth too. You weren't much of a geek though, reading just weren' for you, would rather muck in and get dirty on the field. Which is why you loved sports. Running. Cycling. Even if Brian and his mates were playing cricket, you'd want to join in." Joey's recollection slid off his tongue effortlessly, he had been part of her life for so long, that he didn't even need to think to be able to retell what he had been a witness to.

"But sports weren' just your thing. Military intrigued you, thanks to your old man. You'd watch black and white films with him from morning till night if you could. Would question everything about it too. 'Cause you'd seen something that you fell in love with. You wanted to fly just like the pilots you saw. Which was why you became an Air Cadet, who got all the way to C.W.O. You weren' the best there but that didn't hold you back. You just wouldn' bloody give up till you got what you wanted. And boy when you knew what you wanted, no one stood a chance." Joey couldn't help his pause as he recounted memories long gone and seemingly lost. The reflection of his inner emotion just creeping out from beneath the mask he wore hiding the slight smile on his lips, lingering thoughts allowing him to remember the good that came between them.

"No one." Joey mumbled. Clearing his throat, Chapman having not realised his gaze had fallen to the table between them, pulled back from those resurfacing feelings, removing himself from the equation as he sought his duty once more. "And then when you finished your A's you wanted to see more of the world, like Brian and his mates. So you ended up at York for your degree and then jumped on an exchange program." She was so excited too. New York was something of a fresh adventure. At the time the blonde had decided to not go into the military, which was a surprise. For whatever reason, Jac never told him why, she seemed to bottle up about it. But like Brian, Joey figured she needed to find herself. By that point they were dating. Things were going great, then... "And after that... Whatever happened... You're now here."

It was the woman he had fallen for. Initially she was merely the little annoying kid sister he teased as 'trouble' that wouldn't take no for an answer, that just seemed to sit on their coat tails no matter what Joey and Brian were doing. In time, as days turned to years, and the trio grew up, Jacqueline blossomed. When Brian went, Jac remained, and the girl seemed to know him better than Joey knew himself. She got inside his head, knew how to make him tick. Could bring a smile to his lips no matter the weather. And now, that woman felt like she was forever gone. Stolen and replaced. By a criminal, a terrorist. A murderer. As she lashed out, Joey's features hardened under his mask, but to her all that was seen was the impassive royal blue of his mask.

"Who do I think I am? Right now I'm your only shot at getting your brother away from all that shit you left. If he's still there, I'm the only one you got willing to go look for him. In the time line you've provided S.H.I.E.L.D. there have been only five 'possible' sightings of Brian alive. But none of them confirmed. If you don't know where he is, fine, but bloody well tell me something. Tell me where to start looking. Help me get to Brian." His voice pleaded. For as much as the pair might have done, Joey was still determined to bring them both in. Maybe it was a fruitless hope, to wish that things could ever go back to the way things once were, but if Joey could prevent them hurting any one else then he was determined to do it. "Give me anything to put feet in the field, and start searching so that I can get him away from Exodus. Before it's too late. 'Cause if he did this to people he didn't know in London, then I'd sodding well hate to think what he'd do to the brother of someone he wants dead..."

With her back to him, Joey remained silent, blue-green eyes watching. The Englishman didn't want to see her like this, let alone be the person that made her feel the anger or pain she was trying to shield away from his gaze, and the longer he waited, the more difficult it became to keep his stare on the female. Stabs of regret itching his chest. Penetrating through the devotion to duty Union Jack had held to.
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“No, you won’t listen. You’re not listening. You have a skewed view on all of this that you think is right and just because you’re dressed up like a hero but really you’re blind and biased and don’t understand and there are just some things I’m not going to cave in and talk to you about while I know I’m being recorded. If you don’t get that, well then tough.”

Oh, she wanted to smack him. To shake him again and again. The worst thing about being in prison was not the confined spaces, or even the nullification. It was the closed minds who came to her. That was not to say that everyone she talked to was like that. Some understood how she felt as after all, understanding was not accepting that something was right. Everything that she done with the Brotherhood...some of it was awful and Jac would never shake away some of the demons. But it was not all bad and the mentality that had held her there was what she was trying to break now. That was what people did not understand. It was painful and degrading to be shut in a box when she could be doing something. But her penance had to be served...just not on this man’s terms.

Then, Union Jack made a crucial mistake. Listening to her life being recounted, Jac frowned, her fine brows meeting and her forehead furrowing deeper and deeper. Even the slight about her not being the best at cadets hurt, because she had given her all every single week to be the best and it was a morbid twist of fate that that energy had caused her to rise up to Acolyte. Allowing him to speak, the speedster silently boiled until he was done and she finally turned around. Returning to the table, she leant against it. her face a picture of dark fury.

“Are you quite finished? You and I remember my life very bloody differently. When I finished my A levels I wanted to see the world? What planet are you on? My life was systematically drying up. I needed to get the hell out before I died because no one understood me. For years I’d been drifting apart from the rest of my family, just they made a bloody good show of keeping normal for appearances. They held me at arms length for so long that I just removed myself from the problem. New York was an escape for me because I’d gotten boxed in a hole. My brother had left and you - ”

Briefly, her hand came up to jab a finger at him accusingly, but she pulled back, biting down on her lip. “I was so scared. Everyone I told just pushed me away because I wasn’t perfect anymore. Then when I was stranded, I didn’t know what to do. You don’t know what it was like in America after the Apocalypse. July 20th, 2009. Look it up. SHIELD will have a tape unless they went and oopsied it into the bin.”

Sighing heavily, Spitfire’s rigid posture slackened as he berated her with requests for information, talking about Brian and Exodus and everything else related to the whole mess. “I’ve not been with the Brotherhood since December 2011. All my information is out of date. You’re presuming Brian is still with them when he could have run, easily. I’ve told your people this. So stop trying to guilt trip me, Joseph Chapman, as it’s working, but I can’t feel any worse than I already did. You’ve won alright? Now leave me alone.”
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Union Jack
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Like a bat out of hell the speedster span back to look on him, eyes burning with an animosity his words had carved out from within her, though for all the chagrin that Jacqueline now held for the masked man that was sat in her presence, Union Jack didn't budge nor flinch. Even whilst the blonde leant against the table, the supposedly detached image of Britain's other hero kept his blue-green gaze captured on the bright irises staring daggers into him. As much as duty dictated to him what his response should be or had to be, that mask continued to hide not only the man that was hidden underneath, but also shield the resultant confliction that man's inner emotions reflected upon his expressions. This woman at one time was so important to him, he'd've done anything for her. How could it have all gone to the dogs like this?

Remaining silently untouched like the visage he was supposed to appear wouldn't remain easy for long, unfortunately her words, her truths fed on the Englishman's irresolutions of how far apart their lives had become since the last time they saw each other. Brows folding over his shadowed fixed stare, those conflicts and uncertainties within were bore to her through the windows of his eyes. Joey simply couldn't hide all of himself behind the flag upon his chest. Her life was systematically drying up? Underneath the mask of resolve, cracks formed as Chapman felt more questions brew up inside. Certainly his recount of her past was doctored, it removed mentions of himself and the more specific personal details only such a close friend would've known about the female, all due to the mandate of maintaining his hidden identity, yet that single statement began to unravel even what the Englishman knew of their lives at that time.

For he was very much part of it.

No one understood you? I understood you! Gritting his teeth, jaw firming behind the blue mask, the scowl over Joseph's gaze only grew darker. If this was truly what Jac had felt at the time, then the female made no mention of it to him. They were happy those years back then, at least that was how the Kent lad saw their relationship. Saw their coupling. Unless all of that was a pretence for who knew what given what the female had just stated. What about us, were we a lie? Immediately Joey recoiled from the thought, feeling as if everything they had shared was based on things that were only true to him. There was clearly so much more happening in her life then that she didn't share, all the while he had been as much of an open book to her as any English lad could. Which only confounded his thoughts when the female uttered 'and you...' Wanting her to go on, for the first time Joey felt unease at being able to do one's duty for perhaps the first time in his life. Personally needing the blonde to finish her statement, it took a while for Union Jack to realise the true cost of her statement.

Jac knows.

Dumbfounded, Joey held his silence. Knowing it wasn't going to be easy seeing her like this, and preparing for that eventuality were two very different things. The soldier was trained to the best of his abilities with field work, yet sat in a prison cell and interrogating someone that was important to you was a world apart from all he knew. He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised that she'd figure it out given how close they might've once been. After all, in the real world who could ever buy the disguise of Clark Kent? With Jacqueline's reaffirmation of his identity upon the mentioning of his name, Chapman remained tight lipped as he looked on the blonde. There was no point lying to her any more. Professionalism and duty waded against compassion and desire silently behind that blue mask that served as a wall between him and the dark world he was now pitted against. It protected not only himself, but the people he was attached to. His parents and the Falsworths. Men and women that could easily be used to deter the efforts of Union Jack, Britain's masked hero.

Only here it seemed to serve to antagonise the moment. Sod it. Gaze falling away, Union Jack continued to say nothing as his hands placed away the reports and documents back within the file that had been steadily growing since July 2009, though still proved ineffectual when mounted against what really went on. Deliberately moving his hand to his hip, Joey removed something from a pouch upon his belt and directed the small black object to the ceiling mounted cameras. With a deft touch of a button every device hanging from above blinked into silence, red lights fading to black, now shut off from recording whatever was going on in that cell. Placing the remote atop of the discarded file, Union Jack glanced back to Jacqueline Falsworth and still remained quiet for what felt like forever yet in truth was only a matter of seconds. Then Joey Chapman finally appeared, hands rising to remove the mask from his features, hair caught scruffily from the press of straps now gone, placing the blue shield upon the table, the Kent born lad finally faced her for who he truly was.

"Don't call me Joseph, you know I hate tha'." Features now bare, the conflict he had been fighting with since he had donned that mask could finally be seen, contorting his expression between the perplexity of her actions and the care he still held for the blonde. Without her, the girl that got under his skin and knew him better than himself, he would never have even been here. And then everything Chapman held within just fell from his grasp and poured like water through a broken dam. "What happened Jac? I came lookin' with Brian in New York for weeks, I've been lookin' for you for all those years since. Why didn't you just soddin' well call home? Or me? You know I would have got here as fast as I could... I don't ge' why you'd do any of this, this ain' you...or at least that's what I bloody well keep tellin' me-self." He frowned, eyes falling whilst he stood, needing to place his feet on the floor, and just break from what was going on inside his head but the Englishman couldn't, everything just seemed to point back to Jac's statement, that her life was falling apart and he was right there and didn't know. "You could'a come to me...didn't you trust me? I loved you Jac, y'know I did, why didn't you tell me?" Blue green orbs retook their hold of Jacqueline's blue gaze. "I would've listened then, I am listening now..."
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Spitfire
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So, it was him then. For a minute, she was terrified that the confinement of the cell was doing things to her head and that thinking the man in the mask was her Joey just some cabin fever style paranoia. Dejected, she padded backwards and sat heavily on the table that acted as a divide between them. Well, he hadn’t left but there was a soft clatter behind her and looking up, Jac saw that the cameras had winked out of life. In a way that made it worse, then the mask came off and proved her point but challenged her too. Now she had no real excuse not to be open, to talk. her bravado started to slip away and the speedster slunk down inside her jumpsuit, trying to hide away within the orange material. Now it really was Joey, she felt like the last hiding place on earth was now denied to her for now and forever.

“I couldn’t call home. That might sound really stupid, but I couldn’t Joey. When I went to America...” she trailed off looking for the words to suit what she wanted to say. Her wanting to run away from England had nothing to do with Joey and it stung to think he might feel that way. Maybe it was better to start from the beginning...Making him understand, he who had always been so upstanding, was going to be painful.

“Do you remember when I was fifteen, when I ran away for a few days in November?” Jac was banking on him remembering, but they weren’t as close back then, so maybe he hadn’t even realised she’d gone anywhere unless Brian had perhaps commented on her turning up looking like a drowned rat on the doorstep of his halls of residence. “That was when I found out what I could do. I was scared. When I told my parents the truth...Things just weren’t the same anymore. All I felt like was one big disappointment. So going to New York was just a chance for me to go away and be me.”

Looking over her shoulder, she tried to hitch the corners of her mouth up into a smile. “I really missed you. I wanted to tell you about my mutation but I was...I thought you’d dump me, then you were going on deployment and I didn’t want to mess things up when you were going into a warzone. Then when everything happened, well, you were deployed. I couldn’t just call you up. Pretty much everything I had was in one bag. My passport and everything was destroyed when my dormitory block was flattened,” exhaling deeply, she started playing nervously with her hair. “Then when the Brotherhood happened, I wasn’t really allowed off base to make a phone call to my boyfriend in the human army. I’m not sure who they’d have killed first. Me or you.”

Distractedly, she swung her legs under the table, knotting her slim fingers together. “I was never that scared for myself though, just everyone else. One moment I was just stranded and the next I was in the midst of the Brotherhood. When I was there, I just did what came natural and made the best of my situation by working my way up. Magneto made me an Acolyte before I was twenty...Think what you want of that, but you don’t know him like I do.”

Frowning, Jac looked at the floor, as it was much easier to talk to the man behind her without looking him in the face and remembering the past they had shared together. It was like picking scabs off, going into it, but facing him would have made it somehow dirty. “Like I did. It’s really complicated. But I have to live with it all now. If you really look into their ideals, when I was fighting I was doing it to prevent a greater evil down the road. I did bad things so one day no one would have to. Call me stupid if you want, but the opposing side is always wrong. That’s why it’s the opposing side. It’s all about perspectives, Joey, doesn’t make it right or wrong but when you see things at certain times from certain angles...”

“What do you want to know, really? You’ve got my file right there. Or do you want to know how when I lived in Sanctuary I used to teach the kids who came to live there how to play football and cricket and tried to give them stability. Or when the Xavier school was bombed and I spent that whole time stitching up the stomachs of little kids or dealing with people who had lost limbs? And don’t you dare turn that on me as don’t even think I’ve not killed myself with my conscience night after night. When I left the Brotherhood, it was only supposed to be for a few days. I was supposed to go back and carry on teaching the kids, give medical support, but no. Some people used to reckon I was the most dangerous one in there, because I was the sane one. For a while at least, Magneto listened to me, he agreed with me that killing wasn’t the way we should strive for better one day. Maybe if I’d never left, things would be different.” Drawing her knees up to bury her face, she curled into a little ball, still perched atop the table.

“I ruined everything.”
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Union Jack
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When Jacqueline turned her back, fell into silence and leant against the table so as to not face him, Joey couldn't help feeling like she was shunning him. To a certain extent maybe the English spy deserved it, he thought, having come here and been so matter of fact with everything she had done all the while, pretending to not be who you were beneath a mask wasn't something a friend like he once should have done. Yet it felt like he could only do it that way. No sooner did he take off the mask did everything come pouring out of him, all personal, all unresolved and difficult. It wasn't professional, and nor was it the image he was trying to establish for himself as Union Jack. Duty first for Queen and Country, everything else just ignored and pushed away. Till she got under his skin like she always did.

Exhaling wearily, Chapman lifted his hands, linking his fingers and then cupped the back of his neck, letting his arms hang heavily as he remained quiet, silently weighing up the point of pressing on. It was late, she was tired, he was tired and maybe he really did make a balls up of whatever the naive agent had hoped to accomplish here. Resigning himself to leaving, Chapman stepped over to the table again only to be caught mid-step as Jacqueline finally broke her uneasy peace that had descended after Joey spoke from the heart. Surprise caught his expression at first, before his brows creased, listening. Turning around the Englishman led his blue green gaze to the sterile wall and door, allowing himself to lose sight of everything as he soaked in Jacqueline's words, trying to not be so dictated to by his own hidden feelings. Gently leaning back against the table, Joey frowned. Detachment from this really wasn't in his forte.

The edge of his lips twitched further into his cheek, pressed into a thin line thanks to contorted thoughts, the concept or notion of Jac's being unable to call home after the Apocalypse still touching a sore nerve. Even if she felt lost, it still shouldn't have come to this. He was a way out, if not Brian, if not Monty, then Joey felt like he should've been at the very top of the list of people she would turn to, counted on for sympathy, for understanding. Or maybe that's what he wanted to hear. Holding his breath so as to aid the stomaching of her decision, Jacqueline's recount of the November that changed her life brought his gaze back as he peered behind over his shoulder, though still not quite to her. "I think so... Monty called the residence once, wondering if you'd turned up. I figured you were just bunking..." He shrugged.

It wasn't odd really at the time. Covering for her then was like second nature and kids were kids. He and Jac weren't as close as they would become at that point, she was still just that...'girl' he spent time with, but nevertheless Jacqueline was still important. By then he was in the Military Academy and University, all thanks to the words and encouragement she had for him when he felt his life was derailed. Now that odd chat on the phone with her old man made sense, finally after all those years. And he had been totally clueless since. Not once in that time did he ever get a suspicion of something that important turning his Jac inside out. The soldier had always believed York University and the trip to the United States was the blonde finding her way in the world, like her brother.

You bloody prat...

Catching sight of her eyes as she whispered she missed him, Joey's conflictions slowly twisted with knots. Having not occurred to him why she hadn't asked him for help, the proud Englishman felt disgusted and frustrated with himself, but at least had some understanding that had not been there before. Why she couldn't have gone to him when things for them felt great, why she hid the truths with he about to head for war. That lay so many more if's, but's and maybe's in his mind but at least they were personal questions only the spy could face, no longer laid rest at her feet to deal with. Yet it still left the Brotherhood.

Drifting away as the blonde behind him gave insight into her time spent with Magneto, Pyro and the others still drew the same level of ire within Joey that he had struggled with in all the years he had learned that Jacqueline had joined them. Barriers reformed between them as he wandered away, back on his feet and opening the distance between them. Understanding their plight, that argument wasn't something he could easily swallow. The frank account made him nervous for her. His posture firming as a result, shoulders angled, hands on his hips. Life wasn't black and white, it was full of differing perspectives but this was Jac, not some simpleton, which made comprehending why she had done what she had even harder. To prevent a greater evil? At times the people she was with were the epitome of that evil.

Certainly the world wasn't black and white, Joey knew that better than all given his new role, there had been many things he'd been ordered to undertake for the good of the country even if it were against the silent morale code he would adhere but that was the way the world operated. Black and white simply doesn't exist without the grey that Joey now worked within. But the Brotherhood? Frowning Joey forced himself to look on Jac as she finished. Ruin everything? Yeah you did! Squeezing his gaze shut at the silent thought, the man behind the mask of Union Jack took a moment to recollect those thoughts that had gotten away from him, and had led them into a bare all conversation that they were both still taking blows from. Secrets and lies was their world now. Even she didn't know the change that had come in him.

Exhaling the air caught in his lungs, Joey looked back to the table again. Eyes holding on the small huddled lost figure that he had once cared so much for. Duty probably demanded he push her even now, to glean as much as he could, the infrastructure of the world she left behind, details of the main players that were possibly situated in Europe, how he might be able to find Brian. But for once he didn't listen. Placing aside that sacred honour, the man known as Union Jack let himself be Joey Chapman for once. Slowly walking over, the common-born lad drew up onto the table, sat atop the flat surface, feet hanging from the edge, his back now lightly pressed against that of Falsworth's. Enough to be noticed, and offer some slim semblance of support. Sat like they used to under the sun in Mote's, a park in Maidstone the pair used to frequent all the time as kids. Sat as he studied and she read or she studied and he watched the footy.

Simpler times.

"Jac..." Joey whispered. "I missed you too."
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Hunched on the table, Jac became aware of the gentle pressure against her back. Sniffing, she chanced a glance over her shoulder, slowly moving her arm out so it rest against Joey’s. The speedster wanted to twist her hand around on the tabletop, to twine her little finger with his and hold on to something of her past that was finally real again...Only this wasn’t real. Even though he was sat there, saying he had missed her, which made her heart ache in her chest, he probably still hated her and was now only luring her into a false sense of security so he could squeeze as much outdated information out of her as humanly possible. Didn’t they understand it had been over a year since she’d been with the Brotherhood proper? In the deepest parts of her heart, she’d never let go her belief in Magneto. Likely, Joey wouldn’t want to hear that so the former Acolyte stayed silent.

Her finger twitched, curling around his for just a second before she pulled her arm back as if she had been run through with an electric current. Coughing, Jac shifted around, swallowing. “So. Is that it, then?” her voice wasn’t strong, but a little shred and tatter of defiance clung through. Even so, there was the threat of her words cracking into tears at any second.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t help you because I just don’t know anything. I never really knew anything. All I was good at was running fast and getting myself shot.”

Realising that she was sounding pathetic, she hung her head, the temptation to lean her whole weight against him and just stay there, as if to pretend that the last four years had never even happened. “You know...It wasn’t even all that bad, but if I even told you then I’m sure you’d find some counter to throw in my face...I can’t blame you for being mad. If I was in your spot, I’d be fuming I’m sure. But I don’t know what else to tell you. I know I can’t tell you what I want.”

Although it was painful to break the physical contact between them, Spitfire swung off the table, creating a void as she moved to her bunk. “So I suppose that’s it. Right?” her messy hair hung around her face as she lowered her head, staring at her shoes, which were dull little rubber soled things with no laces. the truth was, she wanted Joey to stay, she really wanted that connection from her past. If he could hold her for even a minute...Biting down hard on her lip, Jac tried not to think about it, because the past was the past and she’d hidden it away in her heart for too long, for everything to unravel at her feet now.
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Union Jack
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Touch toyed at his hand as the Englishman glanced down, looking on the small finger that had reached out to curl around his, and with its warmth came a flood of memories that had all long been buried or ignored. Times where the pair seemed to have a future, an understanding and a connection that meant more to him that had taken far too long to be realised. And for a fleeting second Joey dared to pretend that things could be good, that a normality could return between them. But such things were not real, the cold stale walls kept the coldness in his bones with enacting clarity given the crimes she had committed, the path Jac had chosen continued to fall foul of Chapman's sense of honour. He was Union Jack, and she was...

No sooner did the female reach out for him did she pull away, stuttering in her retreat that left Chapman alone to ponder the infidelity of his convictions when it came to things surrounding her, listening silently as the blonde behind reasoned her way through whatever she clung to in order to rationalise such extremist beliefs. Pulling away from him, Joey kept his sight on the void her finger had once filled and the chill that had now taken its place. A familiar feeling he was becoming all too used to. Since the pair had parted ways so many years before, Joey like most military men found himself married more to his duty than to anything resembling emotional attachment. Sure there would be dates, girlfriends, but no sooner would they form would they pass, more often than not because of him.

They simply didn't measure up. Not to his pride, Chapman's duty was to country first. But beneath that mask, most simply never caught him the way someone else had. They didn't measure up to her.

Frowning as Falsworth tried to force the issue of him being done, Joey finally looked up, his blue-green gaze looking upon the only person the Englishman had dared commit any part of his heart to and had since replaced what she he had once meant to him with the sacred honour of serving his country. Their paths hadn't simply been different. They were opposing. Nodding once, Union Jack lifted from the table, hand moving to retake the metal mask he had removed and found himself standing, staring at the blue plated material, quiet as the Kent born lad slowly recollected himself. "If you can'tell me wha' you really wan', Jac, then..." Chapman paused, sighing to relieve the pressure that had built in his chest, eyes only now coaxing their way up from the item in his hands to look on the dishevelled blonde, "Guess my girl's really gone..."

Honest and blunt, Joey didn't blink as he continued to stare upon the female. Since the Apocalypse, it really had felt like she had been stolen away. From him, from her family, from all those that had once known her. Taken and changed in ways he found impossible to accept. And with her own reluctance to trust him, Chapman wasn't able to reach forward and do what he once had been as natural as breathing. Lips firming into a thin line, Union Jack lifted the mask back to his face, pulling the straps over the top of his head until it found its resting place at the base of his skull, the metallic taste of air filling his senses once more and serving to enforce the sense of distance between himself and the woman before him.

"I won' come back if tha's wha' you wan'."
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This could all probably be considered as torture, if ‘only’ mental torture. Thoughts and feelings were burning through Jac’s mind that she had buried years since. Now it was all coming up again until she didn’t know her own left from her right. The speedster wanted Joey to walk out and leave as much as she wanted him to stay and hold her again like he used to. Back then, they had been very different people than who graced that cell now. Maybe that had been why she had fallen so fast and hard for Tommy. He was another speedster, he knew what it was like to need to run, to be free, to be a mutant. But in the end they had been far too different, with passions that were oceans apart. And, he just hadn’t been Joey...At least that was what she had always told herself, but now she felt that maybe the two men had something in common; their inability to understand her. Or, maybe she just couldn’t communicate her feelings.

“I want to tell you so much...” her bottom lip started to wobble dangerously as he spoke about his girl being ‘gone’ “But do you really want to hear me say some of the things in my heart? You don’t understand where I’ve been and I’m not talking about locations either. Would you really let me say about the good I’ve achieved and not slam me down with all the bad things that I know I’ve done?” It hurt to even suggest that he might twist the knife, but it was a genuine fear that she held, ever since he had taken off the mask to reveal that it really was him. Her mind was processing at such a speed, it was giving her a headache and the young woman wanted to sleep, to hide and try and understand what was going on.

Almost cowering under his gaze, Spitfire hung her head, staring at the toes of her ugly little rubber soled shoes that poked out from under the rolled up legs of her jumpsuit. It felt like he had gone and kicked her in the stomach. This was far too much, far too soon and she wondered why he was really there. In her heart of hearts, she hoped it was because he still loved her deep down, as there was a well hidden shard in her heart, just for him. But she would never truly, fully abandon Erik Lehnsherr. Something had been very wrong with him when she had left and one day he might need her again. Pietro probably knew this and while she was quite aware that he hated it, that he also accepted it, even if it was on a very disapproving level. Could Joey ever accept that? Looking up at him now, Jac felt that he would probably never accept it, even in passing fancy.

Limply, she shrugged, her bottom lip wobbling again as he offered to never come back. Sniffing, she coughed, trying to disguise the burst of emotion. “I don’t know what you want from me, Joe. Just...don’t hate me...please. I never did any of it to hurt you. It’s not like I’ve gotten away with what I’ve done, now I have to live with everything, in these tiny walls. If you knew anything about me, you’d know caging me is, well, it’s hard.”

Breathing in and out, Jac pulled her shoulders up a little. “Take care of yourself out there.” There was a lot she wanted to say, to ask, to do. But today was not the day, she was tired and he was too more than likely. This had not been a very good idea and whoever had authorised it needed a kick up the arse.
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