(no subject)
"Will you come back?"
Julian Keller hadn't spoken once during the whole trip to JFK Airport. He'd shown up when Sooraya was en route to the tunnels, saying only that he was 'stir crazy' and would tag along that far, if there were no objections.
They emerged and made their way to a bus station on Salem Center's outskirts, that would intersect the subway system into NYC, a few miles away. No one paid much attention to them as they got on, and took seats near the front in case a hasty exit was needed.
The silence wasn't characteristic for him. When he finally did speak up, she turned to look at him, startled.
He smiled mockingly, but she caught the flash of worry in his blue eyes before
he masked it.
"Yes," she replied flatly. "If nothing prevents me from reaching a flight back. I won't stay in Afghanistan. When I last spoke to her, I asked if she wanted to come over to the States. She said yes, so if I can locate her, that'll be Plan A."
Unspoken was the fact that neither Sooraya nor Mira might survive to make a return trip. That...was understood, and it wasn't what Julian meant by the question.
"You might...almost be safer over there."
Sooraya choked down a laugh that would've had no amusement in it. "No. I wouldn't. It's a matter of what risks I want to take, among bigoted Americans or hostile Afghans. That isn't my home anymore."
"Is Xavier's?" There was no condemnation in his tone.
"I don't know," she admitted honestly. "But I hope that things here can change for the better. Still. I'll be back, Julian."
He nodded. "Just be careful. You have your communicator?"
"I'm hopeful, Julian, not stupid. Yes," she sighed.
They reached the airport, eventually. Najla had to be restrained from rushing off to greet everyone in the terminal. Luckily, nearby travelers didn't take offense at being sniffed or licked. Most of them responded with smiles, and occasional warm greetings in various languages.
Julian stood back as Sooraya left for the check-in area, watching her go.
A tall, red-haired man, wearing a hoodie and gray jeans, got up from a nearby
bench and started to walk casually in the same direction.
Sadly, the hood, though it hid his scarred face, wasn't enough to keep him from being noticed--
or identified.
Julian gestured slightly. The man stopped in his tracks, hands going to
his throat, as if invisible ropes had caught him.
It was momentarily tempting not to let up, but Hellion couldn't plead self-defense or tell himself he was in a fight to the death, this time. The man was alone, and wasn't armored against psionic strikes. Else the ploy wouldn't have worked.
There was the fact, too, that high-functioning telekinetic or not, Julian had his limits.
He wasn't--yet--good enough to disintegrate an entire body and leave no trace.
Wishing, though? He wouldn't apologize for that, or whatever damage he had done.
So he went to "help" the choking traveler. If, in the process, he leaned over and whispered something in the Purifier's ear...well, no one else was close enough to hear them. And the older man had reason to be pale, after such a close call, yes?
Julian let him leave, not long afterward. He didn't try to hide his smirk.
"See you later...meat," he whispered, his mischievous smile slipping for an instant, face turning very cold. "That's a promise."
Sooraya, unaware of all this, got Najla and herself aboard after a few not-too-long lines, and curled up in her seat. She was by the window this time.
The view of the nighttime sky as the jet took off was lovely, but she was
tired, and after a few minutes, she closed her eyes...
Julian Keller hadn't spoken once during the whole trip to JFK Airport. He'd shown up when Sooraya was en route to the tunnels, saying only that he was 'stir crazy' and would tag along that far, if there were no objections.
They emerged and made their way to a bus station on Salem Center's outskirts, that would intersect the subway system into NYC, a few miles away. No one paid much attention to them as they got on, and took seats near the front in case a hasty exit was needed.
The silence wasn't characteristic for him. When he finally did speak up, she turned to look at him, startled.
He smiled mockingly, but she caught the flash of worry in his blue eyes before
he masked it.
"Yes," she replied flatly. "If nothing prevents me from reaching a flight back. I won't stay in Afghanistan. When I last spoke to her, I asked if she wanted to come over to the States. She said yes, so if I can locate her, that'll be Plan A."
Unspoken was the fact that neither Sooraya nor Mira might survive to make a return trip. That...was understood, and it wasn't what Julian meant by the question.
"You might...almost be safer over there."
Sooraya choked down a laugh that would've had no amusement in it. "No. I wouldn't. It's a matter of what risks I want to take, among bigoted Americans or hostile Afghans. That isn't my home anymore."
"Is Xavier's?" There was no condemnation in his tone.
"I don't know," she admitted honestly. "But I hope that things here can change for the better. Still. I'll be back, Julian."
He nodded. "Just be careful. You have your communicator?"
"I'm hopeful, Julian, not stupid. Yes," she sighed.
They reached the airport, eventually. Najla had to be restrained from rushing off to greet everyone in the terminal. Luckily, nearby travelers didn't take offense at being sniffed or licked. Most of them responded with smiles, and occasional warm greetings in various languages.
Julian stood back as Sooraya left for the check-in area, watching her go.
A tall, red-haired man, wearing a hoodie and gray jeans, got up from a nearby
bench and started to walk casually in the same direction.
Sadly, the hood, though it hid his scarred face, wasn't enough to keep him from being noticed--
or identified.
Julian gestured slightly. The man stopped in his tracks, hands going to
his throat, as if invisible ropes had caught him.
It was momentarily tempting not to let up, but Hellion couldn't plead self-defense or tell himself he was in a fight to the death, this time. The man was alone, and wasn't armored against psionic strikes. Else the ploy wouldn't have worked.
There was the fact, too, that high-functioning telekinetic or not, Julian had his limits.
He wasn't--yet--good enough to disintegrate an entire body and leave no trace.
Wishing, though? He wouldn't apologize for that, or whatever damage he had done.
So he went to "help" the choking traveler. If, in the process, he leaned over and whispered something in the Purifier's ear...well, no one else was close enough to hear them. And the older man had reason to be pale, after such a close call, yes?
Julian let him leave, not long afterward. He didn't try to hide his smirk.
"See you later...meat," he whispered, his mischievous smile slipping for an instant, face turning very cold. "That's a promise."
Sooraya, unaware of all this, got Najla and herself aboard after a few not-too-long lines, and curled up in her seat. She was by the window this time.
The view of the nighttime sky as the jet took off was lovely, but she was
tired, and after a few minutes, she closed her eyes...