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Who: Emma Frost & Manuel de la Rocha
When: Early 2023, shortly after X-Tinction Agenda
Where: Manuel's Room at the Xavier Institute
What: Emma and Manuel catch up the morning after she altered his memories. No regrets.
Warnings: Vague references to Bad Times on Genosha. Lots of feelings.
Yesterday was trying. Emma had removed all traces she could find of Manuel's time on Genosha from his mind. Afterwards she'd spoken with him and examined his thoughts, the panic in the pit of her stomach that she'd shoved down deep about breaking something in his mind immediately dissipating. Manny was fine, his mind was clean, and the only problem now was her migraine and the fact that she'd let everyone know and Xavier was none too pleased. But those things were minor in the grand scheme of it all.
Despite the fact that the memory removal had been a success, she hadn't felt comfortable leaving him alone to rest that night. She wanted to be sure that she'd gotten as much of the dregs of it as possible. So, like many of the past few nights, she'd sat in his room, curled up in an oversized chair she'd dragged in. And that's where Emma is in the morning when Manuel awakens, a little bleary-eyed but awake, sipping at an espresso, a small tray of pastries resting on a small table next to her. Threads of her feelings can be felt, but they are somewhat indistinct: relief, worry, affection muddled together.
Before his eyes even open she knows he's awake. "Buen día, cariño."
For the first time in weeks, Manuel has slept through the night. No bad dreams or waking up in a cold sweat. No lying awake and staring at the shadows on the wall. No getting up and pacing just to shake off the phantom sensation of being restrained. Back in the machine. Not that he remembers any of that or even much of the last few months now. His head feels hazy as he starts to stir and it takes his friend's voice to pull him through the fog enough to finally open his eyes.
"Em...?"
At first, he doesn't know where he is or why she's sitting beside his bed, but then the fragments of the previous day start to return to him. He's back at the institute. She's been looking after him. And yesterday she had... The recollection feels surreal to him now. She'd offered to alter his memory, to cut something poisonous out of his mind so he could recover from it, and he'd agreed. Adamantly. Desperately, maybe. The memory is so far removed from his experiences that it barely feels like his own, but he knows that it is and it makes him all the more certain that he'd needed this. That she'd done what needed to be done, like she always does.
Still lying on his stomach, face half-lost in his pillows, he puts a hand out to her.
"...I can feel you," he says quietly, voice still raspy with sleep, "You must be exhausted."
The thoughts streaming through Manuel's head are further reassurance that this had all gone well, producing another wave of relief. Emma reaches her hand out to take his tightly, smiling, unwinding herself from her curled position in the chair so that he can hold to him more comfortably. Her eyes suddenly sting but she pushes that away, not wanting to bother him with it. He has enough to contend with.
"It seems like too much work to keep it all in at the moment, but I figured you wouldn't mind too terribly since it's just the edges of them. Let me know if it's too much, though." It would be troublesome and unkind to overwhelm him in what is likely still a delicate state.
"I have pastries from our favorite patissier in the city, and I can get you an espresso when you're ready. You seem to be feeling alright, hm? A good night's sleep does wonders."
Manuel smiles back easily, not knowing that it's been quite some time since he was able to do so, and squeezes Emma's hand firmly in return. "I don't mind at all," he clarifies, "I just thought you'd want to know, if you didn't already. Even the exceptional Emma Frost can make mistakes when she's running on empty." Which she clearly is. For his sake.
He squeezes her hand again as she fusses over him. It's unnecessary. While whatever happened before must've been harrowing, he feels...fine. A little dazed, perhaps, but fine. He's home. He's with her. There's an espresso in his near future. What could he possibly have to complain about?
"More than all right," he assures her, finally releasing her and pushing himself up into a sitting position so they can be eye to eye. "I...whatever happened, I'm fine now. You don't need to worry about me."
"Thank you, darling, but I'm simply having a lazy morning," Emma replies reassuringly, her smile remaining despite him suggesting so rudely that she could make a mistake. As her hand is released she sits back to set aside her espresso after a quick sip, still grazing over his thoughts. Now, to get Manny his own drink. Mentally she reaches out to one of the students she has posted up in the kitchen, waiting for her to request an espresso, before she leans forward and takes her friend's face in her hands.
Oh, there's the stinging in her eyes again. She pulls in a little breath, trying so hard to not look emotionally affected by all this, but it's likely a losing battle. Exhaustion and the momentousness of this will win out.
"Your espresso is ordered. And I'll always worry about you - you can't escape that, I'm afraid. But I'm so happy you're fine."
While Manuel attempts to ignore the emotions seeping through the cracks in Emma's mental defenses, knowing that she doesn't want them to be perceived, there's nothing he can do to dull his empathic sense. He can feel the distress that's been plaguing her struggling to unwind. He can feel her protective care for him and the responsibility she carries. He can feel her relief trying to wash everything else away. His impulse is to help it along, to take care of her like she'd taken care of him, but he doesn't.
She'd had permission. He doesn't.
Instead, he leans into her touch and attempts to dismiss the realization that there's a faint sheen of unshed tears in her eyes before it can take root and catch her attention.
"Gracias...por todo." He answers quietly, moving to the edge of the bed to close the distance between them and pulling her into a firm hug.
Manny's desire to take care of her, to smooth her feelings into something more even, is sweet. But no, she won't ask him to do that even though she wants to. For the time being, she wants to be the only caretaker here.
As he shifts Emma's hands fall away and she lets herself be pulled into his arms, pressing her face into his shoulder as she hugs onto him. There are tears, now. Just a few, shaken out by the embrace she'd argue. She is simply tired and thus emotional.
"Always. Whatever you need, I'll do it." She means it.
There are better things to talk about than this, though - she'd rather get a few logistics out of the way so that they can settle. So they can talk about stupid things and eat pastries and ignore all the horribleness. "Just in case you don't recall, I've informed everyone like we had discussed. Charles is being holier-than-thou about the whole thing which is just exhausting, but I'm not worried about it. He'll get over it."
For a long moment, Manuel just holds Emma against him in silence, letting her emotions wash over him. He doesn't remember what happened, but he knows that he's put her through hell and that she's taken on far more than it was fair to put on her. He regrets that. But she doesn't regret anything and he needs to be grateful now. Accept this and let his feelings go and put everything behind him.
That was the point of all this, after all.
He'll make it up to her.
Finally, he draws back and gives her a small smile. The same smile he'd given her behind Charles' back when they were teenagers and enduring a lecture for their youthful discretions. "He always does," the empath agrees, reaching to pluck an almond croissant from the tray beside her. Everything else aside...he's starving. He takes a bite, chews, and swallows, all the while considering. Then he adds, "I can talk to the others if anything needs to be smoothed over? It was my decision. They can take it up with me."
There is a vague sensation of Emma trying to dismiss Manny's regret, not wanting that for him, though there's comfort in the fact that he's as ready to move past it as she is. She's quiet now in his arms, save for pulling in a few heavy breaths to center herself, force down tears that continue to threaten because she's just so relieved that this had worked and that her friend is back to himself.
As Manny pulls back so does she, one hand going to swiftly flick away the remnants of her tears before she focuses on him. His smile is met with one of her own. "Yes, please, eat. And darling, you don't need to talk to anyone. I can manage myself just fine." She hums and leans to get herself pain au chocolat.
"I do have to meet with Charles later, though. He'll likely want to check the job I've done at some point down the road, but I can tell him to mind his own business if you'd like."
Moments like this make Manuel wish he had more control over his empathic sense; even just the psychic equivalent of being able to close his eyes. But he can't and they both know that he can't. All he can do is not acknowledge Emma's feelings directly and give her the space to feel them and not interfere with them. Which is harder than it sounds.
He lets his eyes drift downward and takes another bite of his croissant, but looks up again to answer her.
"I know you can. But you don't always have to."
The mention of meeting with the professor gives him pause, though. He trusts Professor Xavier, mostly, but not in the same way he trusts Emma. The man had given him a home and helped him develop some measure of control over his powers, but he'd also treated him like a problem to be solved as much as a student to be educated. Even now, it's complicated. But there's no denying that he's the authority on these things.
Finally, he shakes his head and replies dryly, "Perhaps he just wants to grade you. For old times' sake."
Still tired but feeling a little revived by the state of her friend, Emma does her best to pull her emotions a little more tightly into herself, imperfect but better than she has been. She takes a bite of her pastry, letting out a soft, content sigh.
"I know, but I'm stubborn. And honestly, I'd love to see any of them try to argue this with me."
After a moment she sets aside her food and gets to her feet, opening the door to one of the students, just about to knock, with espresso in hand. There's a quiet thanks, an exchange of money, and Emma is returning to Manny with his drink, eyes rolling at his comment on Xavier. She shares his complicated feelings on the professor.
"Mm, yes, he'd correct my form. 'Emma, you should have been more delicate here. Emma, I can respect your vision, but this isn't how I would have done it. Emma, if you only would have spoken to me ahead of time…' Obnoxious."
She offers Manuel his espresso.
Manuel should know better than to argue with her too, but he still feels the inclination to protest as Emma's mental defenses start returning, gradually cutting off the emotions streaming out until there's nothing more than a trickle here or there. Cracks in the otherwise impenetrable wall between them. She's pushing herself to get it done, he knows, and she doesn't need to.
Before he can make this case, though, she gets up abruptly and goes to the door. He turns to watch her and catches a brief glimpse of an unfamiliar young woman -- presumably a student -- with a cup and saucer. He almost laughs; he hadn't expected room service.
When she returns, he accepts the espresso and smirks at her uncanny impersonation before shaking his head.
"...If he wants to look, he can look. But I don't want any revisions. I...it's strange. I know there's something missing, a lot missing, but I feel fine. I feel like I can live with that." He takes a sip from the espresso, finding his next thought more difficult to say aloud even as it solidifies in his mind, where it will be clear as day to her. He feels secure in this because it was his choice and Emma's execution. Even if he wants to, he can't trust that Professor Xavier would leave everything else as it is.
Once the espresso is handed off, Emma settles back into the chair and picks up her own. She nods to what her companion says as she takes a sip - maybe she should have asked for another for herself, but she doesn't have the energy to call back her espresso maker. She'll survive.
"Of course, no revisions. I know the job I did is good." She's entirely confident of that now, and even if she wasn't… she understands Manny's unspoken thoughts. She has complicated feelings about the older man, ones that don't need to be voiced but do make her gently press reassurance into her friend's mind.
"It will be something to get used to, certainly. And it's still so fresh now. But it will fade and smooth over to mostly just feeling like something that was forgotten in the regular course of time." There's a momentary pause as she searches his mind gently, wanting, once more, to reassure herself that he's doing as well as he seems. "...you really are fine."
The reassurance that Emma presses into Manuel's mind isn't like what he does; she isn't controlling him. It's a telepathic impression of comfort more akin to holding his hand than manipulating his thoughts. He recognizes it immediately and welcomes it and puts Professor Xavier out of mind.
"...I really am fine," he agrees, though he knows the realization doesn't carry the same weight for him that it does for her. He doesn't know what happened. He doesn't know what the fallout was. Just that it had all been terrible enough he'd felt the need to purge it from himself entirely. It's difficult not to wonder, but he fights the impulse to dwell on it. He knows he won't find anything and, more importantly, he'd promised her yesterday that he wouldn't. Looking for strings to pull after all this would be beyond foolish.
"Do you know what that means?"
Him saying he's fine, him feeling fine in his mind, should be enough to calm all of Emma's worries. It's almost enough, and the rest will simply be time to come down from her state of high alert since he'd returned from Genosha, and as his curiosity about it fades. She leans to kiss Manuel on the forehead before settling back to finish up her espresso. "Well you've just made me the happiest girl in the world, then."
His question has her retracting from his mind - sometimes she likes these little verbal surprises.
"What does it mean, cariño?"
Manuel closes his eyes briefly and allows Emma to place a kiss on his brow. When she draws back, he looks at her and gives her a fond but exasperated smile. She won't allow him to take care of her and that's...well. Not fine. But there's not much he can do about it. That doesn't mean he can't push her to take care of herself, though.
"...it means you can get some rest."
This makes Emma laugh a little. He's right - she can finally rest. It's been something she's been sorely missing for what feels like ages, with how tired she is. Even with that, though, and with how her eyes feel heavy and her head aches, she's not yet ready. Plucking up her pastry, she takes another thoughtful bite, chewing before responding.
"Once we're done with breakfast I'll consider a little nap. I want to be ready to be a pill at Charles, after all."
Manuel rolls his eyes but doesn't protest this plan. With any luck, once Emma goes for her little nap, she'll sleep until the evening or maybe even tomorrow morning. But that's up to her. He takes another sip of his espresso and exhales a soft sigh.
A contented sigh.
He feels like he's coming back to life, somehow. Slowly shaking off the fog of his disoriented memory and the pall of the last few months. "Once we're done with breakfast, I'll consider a run. And a shower. And..." He trails off and shrugs. It feels like there's a lot to do, routines to reestablish and plans to make. A life to get sorted out. "Well. You know."
Emma gracefully ignores Manuel's thoughts. She hopes the same as him, honestly, but she doesn't want to acknowledge it. What she focuses on instead is her friend and how he's coming back to life. Pride wells up in her, in herself and in Manny. They've survived this together.
"You'll get back into things quickly." She pauses to finish her espresso, but also to think how to word her next comment. But really, the only way is to be direct. "Once you feel comfortable and settled I'm going to go back to Genosha to help rebuild."
Back to Genosha.
While this gives Manuel visible pause, there's no emotional reaction. Just a strange emptiness as his mind reaches for what's no longer there and momentary struggles to redirect. He blinks and attempts to hide the moment of disorientation by taking another sip from his espresso. He knows what happened on Genosha in vague terms and that the X-Men had become involved to put a stop to everything. But the rest, including what rebuilding might need to be done, is currently beyond him.
Finally, he lowers his mug and looks at Emma.
"That's what you want?"
The true test of her work is here - even as Manuel looks for it, his mind provides him with nothing of what she'd removed. Emma finishes her pastry, trying to foist another on her companion. There is nervous energy to her brought on by thoughts of Genosha, one that she'll try to quash with a little bit of fussing.
"I think it's important for me to go. But, like I said, only when you feel like you're on your feet again. Who else will make children fetch you espressos and order pastries for you until then?"
It's a strange sensation for Manuel, not knowing how to feel or what to say. He knows that all of this will pass eventually, be normal eventually like Emma said, but he's already willing it to happen more quickly. When she tries to push another pastry into his hand, he offers her a stiff smile and just shakes his head. For now, at least, his appetite has left him.
Finally, he asks the only question that really matters.
"It's safe to go back?"
The rejection of more food isn't Emma's favorite, but she supposes forcing pastries down Manuel's throat isn't necessary or helpful. She sets it aside, managing a smile for her friend without much effort. Getting jittery about Genosha isn't going to do him any good.
"Perfectly safe. Some of the others will be there too, so there's even less to worry about." She reaches out to smooth his hair, more out of habit than anything else. "And I'm betting you'll feel like yourself sooner than you think."
Manuel grimaces a little as Emma's fingers brush through his too-short hair, still growing back after his time on Genosha. He remembers getting a glimpse of it yesterday and, while he detests the way it looks and the way it feels, he knows it's a temporary problem. It'll pass like everything else. He doesn't remember that the magisters had shaved his hair so they could more easily attach electrodes to his skull and monitor his brain activity while their machine took control of his powers. Took control of him. His altered mind doesn't register it as anything but an annoyance. It doesn't even occur to him to ask her about it.
Instead, he nods, reluctantly accepting Emma's answer. He knows he won't be able to talk her out of it if she thinks it's important.
"Well. If you insist on being altruistic," he concedes, tone playfully mocking as if he's just called her something far more unkind, "Then...you have to keep in touch. At least."
He sips his espresso again, already beginning to plan the following days. The steps he'll take to get through this malaise. Even without Emma.
"But you're right. I'll be back to myself soon. I don't have the patience for anything else."
Emma laughs quietly at being called altruistic, though she's more focused on the continued proof that her work had been good, and that her friend is fine. She's exhausted but she does feel a little powerful, too.
After a long moment she crawls out of the chair and onto Manny's bed, situating herself on the other side of him where there's room, stretching out. Maybe she'll just take her nap here.
"I'll call you every night to complain about all the idiots I had to deal with, I'm sure. And you know… I could send Warren to come take care of you. I'm sure he'd try very hard to be a good nurse, and I'm sure you'd improve so much quicker." She looks very amused at this proposal.
When Emma joins him on the bed, Manuel lies back and turns onto his side to face her. He smiles at her plan for the coming days (or weeks? or months? how long will helping to rebuild actually take?), clearly pleased by her ready agreement and the idea that'll he get to be her long-distance confidant. If she has to be gone, much farther away than New York City, that's how he prefers it.
At the mention of Emma's boyfriend, however, he utters a dramatic sound of disgust and rolls onto his back instead.
"Warren couldn't look after a house plant. And I don't need anyone to take care of me."
Another laugh rises from Emma as she remains on her side, watching her companion with continued amusement.
"I think he could manage a house plant - one that you can ignore for a while and it will still survive, against all odds. And I know you don't, but what if I want to know you're being doted on, hm? Warren hasn't got anything pressing going on, and then you two can bond."
She shuts her eyes, still smiling.
Manuel rolls his eyes as Emma defends Warren, making no attempt to hide it and giving her an incredulous look. But her boyfriend's qualifications (or lack thereof) aren't actually the point.
"Emma. Estaré bien.," he insists, but stops short.
He watches as her eyes close, hesitant to speak again and potentially pull her back from the edge of sleep. So he doesn't. Instead, he waits to see if her feelings will come back into focus for him, as they always do when she drifts off and her mental barriers go down. The emotions of the sleeping tend to be subdued and aimless until they reach the later stages of sleep and begin to dream, but he recognizes them well.
"He's so stupid," Emma says affectionately, her voice already starting to quiet and thicken. This isn't her plan. She was going to stay awake until Manny had finished his breakfast, had shaken himself off and got up to start his day. But she's comfortable and happy and relieved, and also completely exhausted, leaving her almost defenseless against her body's need to rest. Her feelings do begin to trickle out of her; there are the slightest hints of worry under the surface, but most everything she's feeling is good.
"I'm very tired. But I love you." She blindly reaches out for his hand with a soft sigh, drifting off further.
There's something soothing about those slipping into sleep emotions and Manuel exhales softly as he feels Emma drifting off. He helps her hand to find his and gives it a gentle squeeze, silently accepting that he'll probably be here for a while. He doesn't mind, though. She'll be leaving again soon. And, after everything she's done, he's certain he owes her far more than this.
"...Love you."
When: Early 2023, shortly after X-Tinction Agenda
Where: Manuel's Room at the Xavier Institute
What: Emma and Manuel catch up the morning after she altered his memories. No regrets.
Warnings: Vague references to Bad Times on Genosha. Lots of feelings.
Yesterday was trying. Emma had removed all traces she could find of Manuel's time on Genosha from his mind. Afterwards she'd spoken with him and examined his thoughts, the panic in the pit of her stomach that she'd shoved down deep about breaking something in his mind immediately dissipating. Manny was fine, his mind was clean, and the only problem now was her migraine and the fact that she'd let everyone know and Xavier was none too pleased. But those things were minor in the grand scheme of it all.
Despite the fact that the memory removal had been a success, she hadn't felt comfortable leaving him alone to rest that night. She wanted to be sure that she'd gotten as much of the dregs of it as possible. So, like many of the past few nights, she'd sat in his room, curled up in an oversized chair she'd dragged in. And that's where Emma is in the morning when Manuel awakens, a little bleary-eyed but awake, sipping at an espresso, a small tray of pastries resting on a small table next to her. Threads of her feelings can be felt, but they are somewhat indistinct: relief, worry, affection muddled together.
Before his eyes even open she knows he's awake. "Buen día, cariño."
For the first time in weeks, Manuel has slept through the night. No bad dreams or waking up in a cold sweat. No lying awake and staring at the shadows on the wall. No getting up and pacing just to shake off the phantom sensation of being restrained. Back in the machine. Not that he remembers any of that or even much of the last few months now. His head feels hazy as he starts to stir and it takes his friend's voice to pull him through the fog enough to finally open his eyes.
"Em...?"
At first, he doesn't know where he is or why she's sitting beside his bed, but then the fragments of the previous day start to return to him. He's back at the institute. She's been looking after him. And yesterday she had... The recollection feels surreal to him now. She'd offered to alter his memory, to cut something poisonous out of his mind so he could recover from it, and he'd agreed. Adamantly. Desperately, maybe. The memory is so far removed from his experiences that it barely feels like his own, but he knows that it is and it makes him all the more certain that he'd needed this. That she'd done what needed to be done, like she always does.
Still lying on his stomach, face half-lost in his pillows, he puts a hand out to her.
"...I can feel you," he says quietly, voice still raspy with sleep, "You must be exhausted."
The thoughts streaming through Manuel's head are further reassurance that this had all gone well, producing another wave of relief. Emma reaches her hand out to take his tightly, smiling, unwinding herself from her curled position in the chair so that he can hold to him more comfortably. Her eyes suddenly sting but she pushes that away, not wanting to bother him with it. He has enough to contend with.
"It seems like too much work to keep it all in at the moment, but I figured you wouldn't mind too terribly since it's just the edges of them. Let me know if it's too much, though." It would be troublesome and unkind to overwhelm him in what is likely still a delicate state.
"I have pastries from our favorite patissier in the city, and I can get you an espresso when you're ready. You seem to be feeling alright, hm? A good night's sleep does wonders."
Manuel smiles back easily, not knowing that it's been quite some time since he was able to do so, and squeezes Emma's hand firmly in return. "I don't mind at all," he clarifies, "I just thought you'd want to know, if you didn't already. Even the exceptional Emma Frost can make mistakes when she's running on empty." Which she clearly is. For his sake.
He squeezes her hand again as she fusses over him. It's unnecessary. While whatever happened before must've been harrowing, he feels...fine. A little dazed, perhaps, but fine. He's home. He's with her. There's an espresso in his near future. What could he possibly have to complain about?
"More than all right," he assures her, finally releasing her and pushing himself up into a sitting position so they can be eye to eye. "I...whatever happened, I'm fine now. You don't need to worry about me."
"Thank you, darling, but I'm simply having a lazy morning," Emma replies reassuringly, her smile remaining despite him suggesting so rudely that she could make a mistake. As her hand is released she sits back to set aside her espresso after a quick sip, still grazing over his thoughts. Now, to get Manny his own drink. Mentally she reaches out to one of the students she has posted up in the kitchen, waiting for her to request an espresso, before she leans forward and takes her friend's face in her hands.
Oh, there's the stinging in her eyes again. She pulls in a little breath, trying so hard to not look emotionally affected by all this, but it's likely a losing battle. Exhaustion and the momentousness of this will win out.
"Your espresso is ordered. And I'll always worry about you - you can't escape that, I'm afraid. But I'm so happy you're fine."
While Manuel attempts to ignore the emotions seeping through the cracks in Emma's mental defenses, knowing that she doesn't want them to be perceived, there's nothing he can do to dull his empathic sense. He can feel the distress that's been plaguing her struggling to unwind. He can feel her protective care for him and the responsibility she carries. He can feel her relief trying to wash everything else away. His impulse is to help it along, to take care of her like she'd taken care of him, but he doesn't.
She'd had permission. He doesn't.
Instead, he leans into her touch and attempts to dismiss the realization that there's a faint sheen of unshed tears in her eyes before it can take root and catch her attention.
"Gracias...por todo." He answers quietly, moving to the edge of the bed to close the distance between them and pulling her into a firm hug.
Manny's desire to take care of her, to smooth her feelings into something more even, is sweet. But no, she won't ask him to do that even though she wants to. For the time being, she wants to be the only caretaker here.
As he shifts Emma's hands fall away and she lets herself be pulled into his arms, pressing her face into his shoulder as she hugs onto him. There are tears, now. Just a few, shaken out by the embrace she'd argue. She is simply tired and thus emotional.
"Always. Whatever you need, I'll do it." She means it.
There are better things to talk about than this, though - she'd rather get a few logistics out of the way so that they can settle. So they can talk about stupid things and eat pastries and ignore all the horribleness. "Just in case you don't recall, I've informed everyone like we had discussed. Charles is being holier-than-thou about the whole thing which is just exhausting, but I'm not worried about it. He'll get over it."
For a long moment, Manuel just holds Emma against him in silence, letting her emotions wash over him. He doesn't remember what happened, but he knows that he's put her through hell and that she's taken on far more than it was fair to put on her. He regrets that. But she doesn't regret anything and he needs to be grateful now. Accept this and let his feelings go and put everything behind him.
That was the point of all this, after all.
He'll make it up to her.
Finally, he draws back and gives her a small smile. The same smile he'd given her behind Charles' back when they were teenagers and enduring a lecture for their youthful discretions. "He always does," the empath agrees, reaching to pluck an almond croissant from the tray beside her. Everything else aside...he's starving. He takes a bite, chews, and swallows, all the while considering. Then he adds, "I can talk to the others if anything needs to be smoothed over? It was my decision. They can take it up with me."
There is a vague sensation of Emma trying to dismiss Manny's regret, not wanting that for him, though there's comfort in the fact that he's as ready to move past it as she is. She's quiet now in his arms, save for pulling in a few heavy breaths to center herself, force down tears that continue to threaten because she's just so relieved that this had worked and that her friend is back to himself.
As Manny pulls back so does she, one hand going to swiftly flick away the remnants of her tears before she focuses on him. His smile is met with one of her own. "Yes, please, eat. And darling, you don't need to talk to anyone. I can manage myself just fine." She hums and leans to get herself pain au chocolat.
"I do have to meet with Charles later, though. He'll likely want to check the job I've done at some point down the road, but I can tell him to mind his own business if you'd like."
Moments like this make Manuel wish he had more control over his empathic sense; even just the psychic equivalent of being able to close his eyes. But he can't and they both know that he can't. All he can do is not acknowledge Emma's feelings directly and give her the space to feel them and not interfere with them. Which is harder than it sounds.
He lets his eyes drift downward and takes another bite of his croissant, but looks up again to answer her.
"I know you can. But you don't always have to."
The mention of meeting with the professor gives him pause, though. He trusts Professor Xavier, mostly, but not in the same way he trusts Emma. The man had given him a home and helped him develop some measure of control over his powers, but he'd also treated him like a problem to be solved as much as a student to be educated. Even now, it's complicated. But there's no denying that he's the authority on these things.
Finally, he shakes his head and replies dryly, "Perhaps he just wants to grade you. For old times' sake."
Still tired but feeling a little revived by the state of her friend, Emma does her best to pull her emotions a little more tightly into herself, imperfect but better than she has been. She takes a bite of her pastry, letting out a soft, content sigh.
"I know, but I'm stubborn. And honestly, I'd love to see any of them try to argue this with me."
After a moment she sets aside her food and gets to her feet, opening the door to one of the students, just about to knock, with espresso in hand. There's a quiet thanks, an exchange of money, and Emma is returning to Manny with his drink, eyes rolling at his comment on Xavier. She shares his complicated feelings on the professor.
"Mm, yes, he'd correct my form. 'Emma, you should have been more delicate here. Emma, I can respect your vision, but this isn't how I would have done it. Emma, if you only would have spoken to me ahead of time…' Obnoxious."
She offers Manuel his espresso.
Manuel should know better than to argue with her too, but he still feels the inclination to protest as Emma's mental defenses start returning, gradually cutting off the emotions streaming out until there's nothing more than a trickle here or there. Cracks in the otherwise impenetrable wall between them. She's pushing herself to get it done, he knows, and she doesn't need to.
Before he can make this case, though, she gets up abruptly and goes to the door. He turns to watch her and catches a brief glimpse of an unfamiliar young woman -- presumably a student -- with a cup and saucer. He almost laughs; he hadn't expected room service.
When she returns, he accepts the espresso and smirks at her uncanny impersonation before shaking his head.
"...If he wants to look, he can look. But I don't want any revisions. I...it's strange. I know there's something missing, a lot missing, but I feel fine. I feel like I can live with that." He takes a sip from the espresso, finding his next thought more difficult to say aloud even as it solidifies in his mind, where it will be clear as day to her. He feels secure in this because it was his choice and Emma's execution. Even if he wants to, he can't trust that Professor Xavier would leave everything else as it is.
Once the espresso is handed off, Emma settles back into the chair and picks up her own. She nods to what her companion says as she takes a sip - maybe she should have asked for another for herself, but she doesn't have the energy to call back her espresso maker. She'll survive.
"Of course, no revisions. I know the job I did is good." She's entirely confident of that now, and even if she wasn't… she understands Manny's unspoken thoughts. She has complicated feelings about the older man, ones that don't need to be voiced but do make her gently press reassurance into her friend's mind.
"It will be something to get used to, certainly. And it's still so fresh now. But it will fade and smooth over to mostly just feeling like something that was forgotten in the regular course of time." There's a momentary pause as she searches his mind gently, wanting, once more, to reassure herself that he's doing as well as he seems. "...you really are fine."
The reassurance that Emma presses into Manuel's mind isn't like what he does; she isn't controlling him. It's a telepathic impression of comfort more akin to holding his hand than manipulating his thoughts. He recognizes it immediately and welcomes it and puts Professor Xavier out of mind.
"...I really am fine," he agrees, though he knows the realization doesn't carry the same weight for him that it does for her. He doesn't know what happened. He doesn't know what the fallout was. Just that it had all been terrible enough he'd felt the need to purge it from himself entirely. It's difficult not to wonder, but he fights the impulse to dwell on it. He knows he won't find anything and, more importantly, he'd promised her yesterday that he wouldn't. Looking for strings to pull after all this would be beyond foolish.
"Do you know what that means?"
Him saying he's fine, him feeling fine in his mind, should be enough to calm all of Emma's worries. It's almost enough, and the rest will simply be time to come down from her state of high alert since he'd returned from Genosha, and as his curiosity about it fades. She leans to kiss Manuel on the forehead before settling back to finish up her espresso. "Well you've just made me the happiest girl in the world, then."
His question has her retracting from his mind - sometimes she likes these little verbal surprises.
"What does it mean, cariño?"
Manuel closes his eyes briefly and allows Emma to place a kiss on his brow. When she draws back, he looks at her and gives her a fond but exasperated smile. She won't allow him to take care of her and that's...well. Not fine. But there's not much he can do about it. That doesn't mean he can't push her to take care of herself, though.
"...it means you can get some rest."
This makes Emma laugh a little. He's right - she can finally rest. It's been something she's been sorely missing for what feels like ages, with how tired she is. Even with that, though, and with how her eyes feel heavy and her head aches, she's not yet ready. Plucking up her pastry, she takes another thoughtful bite, chewing before responding.
"Once we're done with breakfast I'll consider a little nap. I want to be ready to be a pill at Charles, after all."
Manuel rolls his eyes but doesn't protest this plan. With any luck, once Emma goes for her little nap, she'll sleep until the evening or maybe even tomorrow morning. But that's up to her. He takes another sip of his espresso and exhales a soft sigh.
A contented sigh.
He feels like he's coming back to life, somehow. Slowly shaking off the fog of his disoriented memory and the pall of the last few months. "Once we're done with breakfast, I'll consider a run. And a shower. And..." He trails off and shrugs. It feels like there's a lot to do, routines to reestablish and plans to make. A life to get sorted out. "Well. You know."
Emma gracefully ignores Manuel's thoughts. She hopes the same as him, honestly, but she doesn't want to acknowledge it. What she focuses on instead is her friend and how he's coming back to life. Pride wells up in her, in herself and in Manny. They've survived this together.
"You'll get back into things quickly." She pauses to finish her espresso, but also to think how to word her next comment. But really, the only way is to be direct. "Once you feel comfortable and settled I'm going to go back to Genosha to help rebuild."
Back to Genosha.
While this gives Manuel visible pause, there's no emotional reaction. Just a strange emptiness as his mind reaches for what's no longer there and momentary struggles to redirect. He blinks and attempts to hide the moment of disorientation by taking another sip from his espresso. He knows what happened on Genosha in vague terms and that the X-Men had become involved to put a stop to everything. But the rest, including what rebuilding might need to be done, is currently beyond him.
Finally, he lowers his mug and looks at Emma.
"That's what you want?"
The true test of her work is here - even as Manuel looks for it, his mind provides him with nothing of what she'd removed. Emma finishes her pastry, trying to foist another on her companion. There is nervous energy to her brought on by thoughts of Genosha, one that she'll try to quash with a little bit of fussing.
"I think it's important for me to go. But, like I said, only when you feel like you're on your feet again. Who else will make children fetch you espressos and order pastries for you until then?"
It's a strange sensation for Manuel, not knowing how to feel or what to say. He knows that all of this will pass eventually, be normal eventually like Emma said, but he's already willing it to happen more quickly. When she tries to push another pastry into his hand, he offers her a stiff smile and just shakes his head. For now, at least, his appetite has left him.
Finally, he asks the only question that really matters.
"It's safe to go back?"
The rejection of more food isn't Emma's favorite, but she supposes forcing pastries down Manuel's throat isn't necessary or helpful. She sets it aside, managing a smile for her friend without much effort. Getting jittery about Genosha isn't going to do him any good.
"Perfectly safe. Some of the others will be there too, so there's even less to worry about." She reaches out to smooth his hair, more out of habit than anything else. "And I'm betting you'll feel like yourself sooner than you think."
Manuel grimaces a little as Emma's fingers brush through his too-short hair, still growing back after his time on Genosha. He remembers getting a glimpse of it yesterday and, while he detests the way it looks and the way it feels, he knows it's a temporary problem. It'll pass like everything else. He doesn't remember that the magisters had shaved his hair so they could more easily attach electrodes to his skull and monitor his brain activity while their machine took control of his powers. Took control of him. His altered mind doesn't register it as anything but an annoyance. It doesn't even occur to him to ask her about it.
Instead, he nods, reluctantly accepting Emma's answer. He knows he won't be able to talk her out of it if she thinks it's important.
"Well. If you insist on being altruistic," he concedes, tone playfully mocking as if he's just called her something far more unkind, "Then...you have to keep in touch. At least."
He sips his espresso again, already beginning to plan the following days. The steps he'll take to get through this malaise. Even without Emma.
"But you're right. I'll be back to myself soon. I don't have the patience for anything else."
Emma laughs quietly at being called altruistic, though she's more focused on the continued proof that her work had been good, and that her friend is fine. She's exhausted but she does feel a little powerful, too.
After a long moment she crawls out of the chair and onto Manny's bed, situating herself on the other side of him where there's room, stretching out. Maybe she'll just take her nap here.
"I'll call you every night to complain about all the idiots I had to deal with, I'm sure. And you know… I could send Warren to come take care of you. I'm sure he'd try very hard to be a good nurse, and I'm sure you'd improve so much quicker." She looks very amused at this proposal.
When Emma joins him on the bed, Manuel lies back and turns onto his side to face her. He smiles at her plan for the coming days (or weeks? or months? how long will helping to rebuild actually take?), clearly pleased by her ready agreement and the idea that'll he get to be her long-distance confidant. If she has to be gone, much farther away than New York City, that's how he prefers it.
At the mention of Emma's boyfriend, however, he utters a dramatic sound of disgust and rolls onto his back instead.
"Warren couldn't look after a house plant. And I don't need anyone to take care of me."
Another laugh rises from Emma as she remains on her side, watching her companion with continued amusement.
"I think he could manage a house plant - one that you can ignore for a while and it will still survive, against all odds. And I know you don't, but what if I want to know you're being doted on, hm? Warren hasn't got anything pressing going on, and then you two can bond."
She shuts her eyes, still smiling.
Manuel rolls his eyes as Emma defends Warren, making no attempt to hide it and giving her an incredulous look. But her boyfriend's qualifications (or lack thereof) aren't actually the point.
"Emma. Estaré bien.," he insists, but stops short.
He watches as her eyes close, hesitant to speak again and potentially pull her back from the edge of sleep. So he doesn't. Instead, he waits to see if her feelings will come back into focus for him, as they always do when she drifts off and her mental barriers go down. The emotions of the sleeping tend to be subdued and aimless until they reach the later stages of sleep and begin to dream, but he recognizes them well.
"He's so stupid," Emma says affectionately, her voice already starting to quiet and thicken. This isn't her plan. She was going to stay awake until Manny had finished his breakfast, had shaken himself off and got up to start his day. But she's comfortable and happy and relieved, and also completely exhausted, leaving her almost defenseless against her body's need to rest. Her feelings do begin to trickle out of her; there are the slightest hints of worry under the surface, but most everything she's feeling is good.
"I'm very tired. But I love you." She blindly reaches out for his hand with a soft sigh, drifting off further.
There's something soothing about those slipping into sleep emotions and Manuel exhales softly as he feels Emma drifting off. He helps her hand to find his and gives it a gentle squeeze, silently accepting that he'll probably be here for a while. He doesn't mind, though. She'll be leaving again soon. And, after everything she's done, he's certain he owes her far more than this.
"...Love you."
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