Bobby and Jeanne-Marie, tonight
Nov. 17th, 2014 06:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
om_aurora posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
om_mainBobby tries, but can't handle Jeanne-Marie's brush with a gun. Jeanne-Marie can't handle Bobby for long.
Warning for Bobby panic.
When Jeanne-Marie arrived home, of course she went directly to find Bobby in his room. If Inu-yasha was there, well, they could just go somewhere else. She needed to see him, and she knew he'd need to see her, too. She knocked, waiting and fidgeting slightly. She was quite settled down after dinner, but still having little flashes of nervousness for her brother's state of mind...
Bobby wasn't fairing much better himself, having been fresh from the shower when he'd received her message, he was still shirtless and damp when he opened the door and pulled her into a tight hug. It didn't matter that he wasn't exactly close with Jean-Paul, guns in general spooked him bad and guns near Jeanne-Marie or anyone connected to them freaked him worse.
"Hello, mon cher." Jeanne-Marie threw herself into his arms immediately, damp hair or no.
He held her tight and stroked her hair, kissing her cheek as he murmured endearments and promises in Brazilian. He knew he was being a touch irrational, after all she hadn't been the one with a gun in her face, but after having had one girlfriend shot and die in his arms (not to mention Lil and Kurt, he'd had Kurt in his arms then too) he was terrified of it happening again. Today was just too close for comfort.
Eventually, he at least got enough of a grip on himself to speak in heavily accented English. "Come inside, love." after all anyone could disturb them in the hallway.
She did as he asked, closing the door softly behind her. No Inu-yasha--that was good, for now. "I know a text message is not enough, but everything is all right. Jean-Paul and I handled it. I am still a little angry, but--well, who wouldn't be?" She knew his worry went beyond that, so far beyond, but it was a good starting-point.
"Tell me." Roberto still had a hold of her hand which he used to guide her to sit on the bed with him. "Tell me everything, how did this happen? How could it?"
And so Jeanne-Marie kicked off her boots and tucked her feet up, then told Roberto everything just as it had occurred. She held his hand all the while, and began speaking animatedly when describing the moment itself where the man pulled out the gun--and how Jean-Paul had dismantled it before any real danger presented itself, and she had wrangled the crowd just in case. In closing, she said, "I think it can only have happened because in every crowd, there will be someone a little bit mad. Thankfully, my brother and I are well-trained, and we managed everything."
At some point Bobby had shifted closer again so that his arms were around her as he shook her had. "But that does not make this ok, that man had a gun in your faces. It could have easily ended very differently and that is not something you can wave away."
"You know me; I don't wave anything away, least of all danger to someone I love," she said seriously, but in a soothing tone of voice. She'd known how this would affect him and resolved, now she was here, to halt the spiral before it went too deep. "But you also know that I am trained to handle these situations. We all are--for this very reason."
"That is one thing, training for sessions and, and whatever. This is different. Guns and real an, and danger and, AND se o seu irmão não era tão rápido, então você estaria morto!!" He really had been trying had not to panic but, still, his voice was wavering badly and he barely noticed the language slip.
She understood something about her brother, fast, and death, but that was enough. She frowned. "Roberto, stop," she said in a voice that was gentle, but brooked no argument. "I know how you feel about guns, and you know I understand, but you cannot do this right now.
"I've just seen my brother dismantle a gun with which someone wanted to shoot him. I can either be proud of how we handled it--which we did--or I can panic. You need to help me."
"I, I am trying, I cannot. I, I try but then all I can think of is what might have been." Whilst her words grounded him enough to find his English again, the only other thing he found was shame. He was failing her again because he was such a screw up. And with the panicky feelings still there, it meant a dose of propranolol when he'd been trying so hard to cut back on the medication. "I love you Querida, you know this. I am trying."
"Stop," she repeated, placing a hand on his face, caressing backwards to tangle her fingers in his hair. "I love you too, and I know how it is, when something is like that. You know I do.
"But I am here, and I am safe, and I am strong--and well-trained, yes, even to deal with real violence. You cannot think of me as a potential victim; I will not allow it."
Bobby lent forward until their foreheads touched lightly, closing his eyes and just matching his breathing to hers as close as he could, arms still holding her close and tight. It didn't always work but sometimes it helped and he needed to be calmer, she needed him to be calmer.
She was chewing at the inside of her cheek, torn between a selfish need to leave, to maybe find her brother--or Kurt, yes, Kurt would be perfect just now--and a need to make sure he was all right. But no, she was stronger than that--she'd proven it today. She could reassure him and then go. She would. "I am here. I am safe. I am strong. Congratulate me, mon cher."
"You were brave, so brave today." And it terrified him. Juliana had been brave. Juliana had died in his arms.
"I did what needed to be done, is all," she said, demur again after her moment of bright pride. She patted his face.
It would not be the last time she would need to face hatred, that she knew. She was a full member of Scott's team; she was training for this very thing, in a way. She would continue to train, and to face it. And she would overcome it--with her brother by her side, hopefully. Certainly with her friends there, though.
They would have another conversation about it soon--but not tonight. She was too tired; her day had been too long. And he was too... well. "For now, only think that I am safe. Will you find it hard to sleep? Should I get you some valerian tea?"
Roberto shook his head, smiling to reassure her. He didn't need tea and, as much as he wanted to be by her side tonight he already knew it was going to be a bad night and she had been through enough without inflicting that on her.
"I will be ok." He lied with a soft kiss to her lips.
She kissed back and toyed with his hair curling it around her fingertips. Holding back everything that she was thinking, just then. She understood, she did. Maybe she had come here for the wrong reasons; this was right. "So will I. And we will talk more tomorrow, yes? After we both get some sleep."
"Mmm," He nodded, one of his arms was still wrapped around her waist whilst with the hand of the other he mirrored her habit of playing with his hair. Fingers running through her soft, dark hair it felt important to tell her again. "I love you more than anything in this world, Querida."
"Oh, darling," she said it in English this time, smiling genuinely and bumping her forehead against his. "I know that, of course, but just now it does me so much good to hear it. I love you, too."
"I would tell you a thousand times if you needed me to." He murmured back, his accent by now was a little clearer as he genuinely started to calm. He rubbed noses with her affectionately and continued. "Anything for you, my darling."
Him finding his calm settled her substantially. She still felt weak and tired, but she was smiling happily. "You are amazing.
"And now, we should both sleep." She pulled away after pecking him on the lips again, and made to stand. "I know it's a little early but I'm sure we both need it. Good night, darling."
Bobby motioned for her to pause for a moment and when she had unfastened one of his two chains and put the St Christopher around her neck instead. "Indulge me." He begged her, it had been a gift from him mother when she'd started traveling all over for the saint to protect him. It perhaps didn't quite match the silver cross she wore but still.
Truly touched, she clasped the medal in her hand tight. "Thank you, my love. I know this will help to calm me again." She leaned in to kiss him good night.
Warning for Bobby panic.
When Jeanne-Marie arrived home, of course she went directly to find Bobby in his room. If Inu-yasha was there, well, they could just go somewhere else. She needed to see him, and she knew he'd need to see her, too. She knocked, waiting and fidgeting slightly. She was quite settled down after dinner, but still having little flashes of nervousness for her brother's state of mind...
Bobby wasn't fairing much better himself, having been fresh from the shower when he'd received her message, he was still shirtless and damp when he opened the door and pulled her into a tight hug. It didn't matter that he wasn't exactly close with Jean-Paul, guns in general spooked him bad and guns near Jeanne-Marie or anyone connected to them freaked him worse.
"Hello, mon cher." Jeanne-Marie threw herself into his arms immediately, damp hair or no.
He held her tight and stroked her hair, kissing her cheek as he murmured endearments and promises in Brazilian. He knew he was being a touch irrational, after all she hadn't been the one with a gun in her face, but after having had one girlfriend shot and die in his arms (not to mention Lil and Kurt, he'd had Kurt in his arms then too) he was terrified of it happening again. Today was just too close for comfort.
Eventually, he at least got enough of a grip on himself to speak in heavily accented English. "Come inside, love." after all anyone could disturb them in the hallway.
She did as he asked, closing the door softly behind her. No Inu-yasha--that was good, for now. "I know a text message is not enough, but everything is all right. Jean-Paul and I handled it. I am still a little angry, but--well, who wouldn't be?" She knew his worry went beyond that, so far beyond, but it was a good starting-point.
"Tell me." Roberto still had a hold of her hand which he used to guide her to sit on the bed with him. "Tell me everything, how did this happen? How could it?"
And so Jeanne-Marie kicked off her boots and tucked her feet up, then told Roberto everything just as it had occurred. She held his hand all the while, and began speaking animatedly when describing the moment itself where the man pulled out the gun--and how Jean-Paul had dismantled it before any real danger presented itself, and she had wrangled the crowd just in case. In closing, she said, "I think it can only have happened because in every crowd, there will be someone a little bit mad. Thankfully, my brother and I are well-trained, and we managed everything."
At some point Bobby had shifted closer again so that his arms were around her as he shook her had. "But that does not make this ok, that man had a gun in your faces. It could have easily ended very differently and that is not something you can wave away."
"You know me; I don't wave anything away, least of all danger to someone I love," she said seriously, but in a soothing tone of voice. She'd known how this would affect him and resolved, now she was here, to halt the spiral before it went too deep. "But you also know that I am trained to handle these situations. We all are--for this very reason."
"That is one thing, training for sessions and, and whatever. This is different. Guns and real an, and danger and, AND se o seu irmão não era tão rápido, então você estaria morto!!" He really had been trying had not to panic but, still, his voice was wavering badly and he barely noticed the language slip.
She understood something about her brother, fast, and death, but that was enough. She frowned. "Roberto, stop," she said in a voice that was gentle, but brooked no argument. "I know how you feel about guns, and you know I understand, but you cannot do this right now.
"I've just seen my brother dismantle a gun with which someone wanted to shoot him. I can either be proud of how we handled it--which we did--or I can panic. You need to help me."
"I, I am trying, I cannot. I, I try but then all I can think of is what might have been." Whilst her words grounded him enough to find his English again, the only other thing he found was shame. He was failing her again because he was such a screw up. And with the panicky feelings still there, it meant a dose of propranolol when he'd been trying so hard to cut back on the medication. "I love you Querida, you know this. I am trying."
"Stop," she repeated, placing a hand on his face, caressing backwards to tangle her fingers in his hair. "I love you too, and I know how it is, when something is like that. You know I do.
"But I am here, and I am safe, and I am strong--and well-trained, yes, even to deal with real violence. You cannot think of me as a potential victim; I will not allow it."
Bobby lent forward until their foreheads touched lightly, closing his eyes and just matching his breathing to hers as close as he could, arms still holding her close and tight. It didn't always work but sometimes it helped and he needed to be calmer, she needed him to be calmer.
She was chewing at the inside of her cheek, torn between a selfish need to leave, to maybe find her brother--or Kurt, yes, Kurt would be perfect just now--and a need to make sure he was all right. But no, she was stronger than that--she'd proven it today. She could reassure him and then go. She would. "I am here. I am safe. I am strong. Congratulate me, mon cher."
"You were brave, so brave today." And it terrified him. Juliana had been brave. Juliana had died in his arms.
"I did what needed to be done, is all," she said, demur again after her moment of bright pride. She patted his face.
It would not be the last time she would need to face hatred, that she knew. She was a full member of Scott's team; she was training for this very thing, in a way. She would continue to train, and to face it. And she would overcome it--with her brother by her side, hopefully. Certainly with her friends there, though.
They would have another conversation about it soon--but not tonight. She was too tired; her day had been too long. And he was too... well. "For now, only think that I am safe. Will you find it hard to sleep? Should I get you some valerian tea?"
Roberto shook his head, smiling to reassure her. He didn't need tea and, as much as he wanted to be by her side tonight he already knew it was going to be a bad night and she had been through enough without inflicting that on her.
"I will be ok." He lied with a soft kiss to her lips.
She kissed back and toyed with his hair curling it around her fingertips. Holding back everything that she was thinking, just then. She understood, she did. Maybe she had come here for the wrong reasons; this was right. "So will I. And we will talk more tomorrow, yes? After we both get some sleep."
"Mmm," He nodded, one of his arms was still wrapped around her waist whilst with the hand of the other he mirrored her habit of playing with his hair. Fingers running through her soft, dark hair it felt important to tell her again. "I love you more than anything in this world, Querida."
"Oh, darling," she said it in English this time, smiling genuinely and bumping her forehead against his. "I know that, of course, but just now it does me so much good to hear it. I love you, too."
"I would tell you a thousand times if you needed me to." He murmured back, his accent by now was a little clearer as he genuinely started to calm. He rubbed noses with her affectionately and continued. "Anything for you, my darling."
Him finding his calm settled her substantially. She still felt weak and tired, but she was smiling happily. "You are amazing.
"And now, we should both sleep." She pulled away after pecking him on the lips again, and made to stand. "I know it's a little early but I'm sure we both need it. Good night, darling."
Bobby motioned for her to pause for a moment and when she had unfastened one of his two chains and put the St Christopher around her neck instead. "Indulge me." He begged her, it had been a gift from him mother when she'd started traveling all over for the saint to protect him. It perhaps didn't quite match the silver cross she wore but still.
Truly touched, she clasped the medal in her hand tight. "Thank you, my love. I know this will help to calm me again." She leaned in to kiss him good night.
