nextgenerationmarvel | And Athos Makes Four!

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And Athos Makes Four!

Rachel had warned her that the fourth of the turtles would be the hardest of all of them. That was precisely why she hadn't set to track him down. He was, after all, a ninja. He'd be good at hiding from her. So, instead, she had decided to draw him out. She had holed herself up in the library, wearing one of her simplest outfits, with a full afternoon tea spread out in front of her. It wasn't a whole Japanese tea thing, no. Brooke didn't know too much about that, and the last thing she wanted was to insult the turtle any. So, she'd kept it simple, and done tea the way she knew how.

A well-worn copy of The Tale of Genji sat next to her, untouched. Was it there for decorative reasons? No. Brooke was honestly intrigued by the idea of a Japanese noblewoman from way back when having written such a large, classic tomb. But she didn't want to seem too occupied. She wanted - she needed - to seem welcoming.

Gingerly, Brooke scooped some sugar into a delicate china cup and mixed it in with the tea and milk. The delicate scent of the Assam tea wafted up and Brooke sighed a small sigh of contentment. She really did enjoy this process of afternoon tea, but she usually took it in her room, where no one could disturb her.

Today, though, she fully expected to be disturbed.

She took a delicate, dainty sip, and she waited.

Please, let this work.

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"My worms might be working overtime, but they're giving me nothing," Brooke replied. "It's like a puzzle. I can grasp part of what the missing piece is, but the edges are too abstract for me to fully hold on to, you understand?"

He tapped the side of his face with one of his broad, thick fingers. He sniffed a bit. He could have been pursing his... beak, but he had a facemask to prevent people from seeing that.

"Paper an' pen." Then he waited.

Brooke narrowed her eyes at Athos for a moment before reaching into her handbag and pulling out a pocket-sized red Moleskine notebook and a pen. Dutifully, she passed the items over to Athos.

"Here you go."

Athos stopped using his hand from a chin rest and took the notebook. He set it on the table. Rather than flip through it to see if Ms. Uptight had naughty doodles in it, he flipped to a blank page somewhere in the middle.

On the top half of the page, he made a circle. He drew arrows coming off the circle to point at the edges of the page. "You."

He moved his pen to the bottom half of page. He made another circle. He drew arrows coming from the circle, but all the arrows pointed to the center. "The sod."

Brooke stared intently at the two drawings. "This is about him literally hiding in his shell, right?" she asked. "Or is it that my powers are having a negative effect on him?"

Athos huffed out a breath. "Perceptions, thought-slave. And reactions."

He pointed at the upper circle. "Cony."

He pointed to the lower circle. "The sod."

"Can you unvague this up for me a little more? I get you're not a man of words, but sometimes, no matter how intelligent a woman may be, she needs the thing handed to her in a silver platter."

He rubbed the red dot in the middle of his forehead. It was very tempting to pick up the notebook and whap Brooke's hand with it to show the external aspects of her world.

"No silver here, berk. If you can't compare your world to the sod's, you're never gonna get into his brain-box."

"So I need to get into his mindset. Understand his experience. See and feel the world from his point of view, not mine?" Was she close?

"From an outer ring to an inner," he said with a sigh as he sat back. She was at least getting closer. He didn't have to beat those dainty hands with her own notebook.

He picked his teacup back up and slurped up the rest of his tea.

"Go from externalizing things to internalizing them?" She blinked. "I need to hold back on everything that I'm emoting to help draw Pete back out?"

It was not frequent that Brooke felt anything less than brilliant. This was one of those moments, and she wasn't loving it.

"Or understand the difference, berk." He did not remotely sound hopeful she could understand someone who almost a diametric opposite to her. She attacked, the sod retreated. She shoved out at the world, the sod took it in and curled up.

Also, he thought berk sounded a lot like Brooke. He pondered trying it in a Southern accent.

"..." Brooke pursed her lips and took a sip o her tea. "So what? He holds it all in and it manifests as you guys releasing that excess out?"

Athos carefully set down the tea cup. Then her rubbed the red spot on his forehead again.

"Could be. Too much cant in the brainbox to be sure."

"Look, you're protective over him. I get it. In your situation, I would be too. He feels persecuted, lost, and alone. He feels like a freak even though we can all relate to him on one level or another. But he's not alone, Athos. Not just because he has you and the other three. It's because he has us. We get it. We understand. And we mean him absolutely no harm." As Brooke said this, she reached inside her own self to tame her usual mix of proud and bitchy emotions. She thought back to that night with Alexander and the way he made her feel - the way she felt warm and loved and (loathe as she was to admit it) protected in his embrace. She didn't push those emotions outward in any direction, but she did use them to quell her usual cocktail.

It wasn't a direct manipulation, it was just creating a safe, comfortable environment.

Athos raised a scaly brow at the slight shift in the environment. He kicked his feet back up onto the chair.

"Whatchu lost, berk? How many abandon you? How many people trail around after chanting 'one of us?'"

"I'm not saying I've had his exact experience, Athos," Brooke replied, trying not to envision the rude turtle as a delicately spiced soup just then. "But then again neither has Franklin Richards or that hideously accented little English boy, but he's managed to somehow connect with them." She fixed herself yet another cup of tea. "Fine. Maybe I haven't lost what he has, but I do have two estranged parents, very few people who I can actually call friend, and..." she trailed off. "I can't empathize, okay? Not exactly. I know how ridiculous that is because of my specific mutant gifts, but I can't. For a number of reasons. I can listen, though. I can help guide. I can counsel. Maybe not in a professional capacity, but as peer-to-peer. I can't do any of that if he insists on hiding, though, and if you insist on protecting him from someone who isn't out to harm him."

He started walking his two fingers of his left hand along the edge of the table.

"Graybeard's his teacher and supportive. 'Course he'd see him. Funny speaking sod's just been lucky." The turtle shrugged and kept his fingers walking. He glanced sideways at Brooke.

"You consider the cony a peer? Figured you were more of a biter."

"I'm not quite sure what you mean by that turn of phrase," Brooke said. "About me being a biter. I'm a lady. Ladies never bite, unless under extreme duress."

"Which phrase? You get lost in the mazes a lot." He started walking his fingers backward.

"And I rattled nothin' about chewin'."

"I fare better with GPS and a chauffeur," Brooke replied. "And you called me a biter. I mean, what else does that mean?"

Athos chuckled. It sounded like a dry, rusty thing.

"Show your teeth with your words." He stopped walking his fingers backwards. He tilted his head as he looked at them.

Brooke took his words at face value.

She smiled and showed her teeth.

Athos blinked at her. Then he stared. The steady stream of simmering anger was replaced by bafflement. With a side of someone else finding that hilarious.

He rubbed a hand over his scaly pate. "Not wonderin' anymore why the sod don't take over."

That smile faltered. She felt the bafflement and the...was he amused by her?

"What's...what? I don't understand."

And Athos Makes Four!

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