Trauma and Medals (pt. 3)

Posted on Sun Jan 12th, 2025 @ 6:27 by Valjean Beaumont & Andrew Hallows & Jacqueline Myers

Chapter: Besieged
Location: Avalon Institute
Timeline: February 1st, 1993, immediately following 'Nutritional Values'
2763 words - 5.5 OF Standard Post Measure

Previously in 'Nutritional Values'

Valjean had quietly retreated back to his work behind the kitchen counter. The two had already gotten food from the other Valjeans as they stood in front of the counter, so all of them now just left them to their own devices at the Chef's table. The breakfast rush was dying down, but none of them would get a great deal of rest before lunch was expected to be served.'

And now the conclusion!

Andrew didn't know all of the thoughts going through Jackie's head, but he could guess some of them. He was being nice to Jackie, because he was both raised that way and having been around so many different mutants for a little over a month. Being around so many fellow mutants be they students or faculty, he had come to understand what so many have gone through being different on a cellular level. Jackie had managed to awaken his natural need to protect people, it had started with the military, moved to his brief stint as a vigilante and now as a teacher and member of a team again.

He saw that Mr. Beaumont and his clones had left them to their meal and their talk. His thoughts wandered a little to what it would be like training Valjean in self-defense and how that would look for his clones.

"I have heard rumors of a school in the US, which is filled with young mutants as well. When I came here, I was surprised myself, outside of this school I never dealt with people like myself really. It'll take some getting used to, but I think you will adapt well."

"Thank you," Jackie called after the chef as he moved away, her words trailing off. She looked down at the plate of food—the most she'd seen in quite some time. The previous night, exhaustion had stolen her courage to seek food, forcing her to take precautions in the greenhouse to sustain herself.

She studied the plate intently before reaching for the toast. After a few careful nibbles, hunger took over and she tore into it, pausing to swallow before speaking. "I've heard of others, but not from the *real* outside world. I could have walked past you and never known." Her hand crept from the corner of her elbow to find the tips of his fingers, a faint smile tracing her lips.

"Other than being some martial arts and police-military powerhouse, do you have any other hidden secrets?" Her brow quirked at the thought—how had he gotten into the greenhouse without disturbing the brambles? She wasn't sure about adapting, but now she had a choice. Toast was the most pressing choice.

Andrew took several bites of both eggs and bacon while Jackie was talking his none eating hand did not stray far from her as it seemed to have a calming effect upon Jackie's powers and her mood.

"Well, part of the training I received from the SIB(Special Investigation Branch) was how to remain unassuming and forgettable, it helped with our investigations when we were out of uniform." He smiled as it was kind of a joke as, he wasn't that forgettable. She asked about his other secrets which did make him place his fork back on the table.

"I utilize density manipulation, I can pass through inanimate objects like walls and trees and the like or make my body so dense, when I hit something, well, imagine being hit by a rock which weighs upwards of 4 tons." To show her he placed his hand under the table and pushed it up through and waved at her, while his arm was obviously still in the table itself.

Her eyes widened with amazed curiosity, lowering her toast to duck down and check the table. What she was experiencing like something out of a story, an indestructible, ninja-like walking tank. It explained how he’d gotten into the greenhouse unscathed, but it also raised more questions. Had she really met someone she couldn’t hurt in the ways she had hurt others before? Part of her was concerned, what if they had found someone like him? With hesitation, she brought her hand toward his as it passed through the table, “It doesn’t hurt, does it?” She wanted to touch, but not without his confirmation.

“I wasn’t wrong about you being a powerhouse, was I?” Jackie’s smile widened slightly, “I spent so much time trying to avoid the police or military. Guess I wasn’t as good at it as I thought.” She let out a quiet chuckle, the sound tinged with self-awareness. “How did you manage to stay under the radar? It must’ve been hard sometimes… people must have asked questions.”

His mutant power was only part of the reason he was so tough, most of it came from having been a student of Hapkido since the age of 6 which happened because of a friend of his father, whom he had met during a joint training event between police of different countries. "No, it doesn't hurt, though the instant I stop concentrating on it," to show her as an example his arm pushed up through the wood of the table and seemed to come to rest upon the tabletop. "I can't pass through living organisms, specifically humans and animals. I also can't affect organic things I am touching."

"I suppose so, but I can still take damage, my abilities just lessen that damage." He chuckled lightly and nodded. "Well, not all military nor officers of the law would be so understanding. Also, I am retired, so all you've met is a retired military police officer." He took a moment to take a sip of tea. "Utilizing the concentration and some meditation from my martial arts training, I was able to keep such events to a minimum, much of the time people just assumed I was just a spooky man, who walked quietly."

Jackie picked up her toast again tearing off another bite as she listened, there was a moment her expression dropped mid-chew before she swallowed. What if they’d found someone like him? What would they have subjected him to? “What if you’re knocked out partway through something? Would you be stuck as you are until you wake up or would it be … worse?” Weapons strong enough to knock out an elephant. The look of concern slowly faded as she swapped the toast for tea, screwing up her face at the distinct lack of sweetness before correcting it hastily. Spoon rattling against the inside of the cup.

“Does that mean you can’t take someone with you when you move through things?” She sipped her tea and continued to listen. He couldn’t have been much older than her, retired was a word that brought up people over 60 collecting their pension from the post office, not someone she deemed to be definitely under 40 and in peak physical condition. “Why did you retire?” She probed, “You don’t have to answer all my questions, you’re a good distraction.” A smile pulled at one side of her mouth as she picked up her toast again. His spooky man comment widened it further with a quiet chuckle.

Andrew stopped mid-chew of a mouthful of eggs. Her questions showed that she was both interested and listening to what he was saying. He finished his mouthful of eggs before he spoke. "That is where it gets somewhat tricky, so if I become unconscious while traveling through something, I will be expelled from the closest distance at a rate of speed similar to my entry speed."

"Sadly, not at this time. Currently I am only able to affect myself, anything I am wearing and non-organic items. Now if I am for example eating an apple while walking through a wall, the apple will come with me." Ah, and here is the tricky question, it wasn't something that was only partly in the files which Claire had on him, certain elements within heavily redacted. "I was seriously injured during an operation on the border of Kuwait and Iraq, which led to me being medically discharged, hence being retired at the age of 30." He smiled, "Your questions do not bother me, and if it helps you to come to terms with the things that have happened to you, then I am here to aid as I can."

Her lips pressed together as she realized she’d interrupted him from his meal more than she probably should have. “So if you’re walking, it’d be at the same pace? That doesn’t sound too bad unless you’re running, or I guess being fired out of something like a human cannonball.” She wrinkled her nose at the thought, picking up another piece of toast. “But that’s probably not what you’re aiming for.”

She tilted her head, intrigued by his explanation. His phrasing about what he could carry wasn’t quite a no, more like a not yet. It sparked more questions, but breakfast didn’t feel like the right time to grill him further. “Injured and discharged at thirty?” Her eyes narrowed slightly as if recalculating. Definitely under forty.

“You sound very... duty-bound,” she said, her voice softer now, almost reflective. A piece of toast hovered halfway to her mouth before she glanced down at her plate. “It must have been hard to step away from all that. Feels like something that sticks to you even when you’re not doing it anymore.”

Andrew had been in the military and raised by a father who had been a Detective Sergeant as well as a retired military officer himself, so he was taught to always eat when he had a chance, even if it was simply snacking. So, with the fact that Jackie had many questions didn't phase him, at least not as much as Jackie might believe it did. "That is a very apt way of describing it."

"I spent around a month in a military hospital in Kuwait, before being transferred to a military hospital in Germany for 6 months. My recovery and rehabilitation took place back here in a military hospital near Richmond, North Yorkshire. This was a period of 7 months, before I returned home to Manchester." He took a moment to eat half a sausage. "I suppose if you are wondering I am 34."

"Duty has been ingrained in me at a young age, so you are not wrong." He finished off his tea. "I never really stepped away from it, it simply changed and evolved. Which is how I have found myself here as a teacher to both students and faculty."

“That’s a long recovery.” She paused, her gaze thoughtful. “It must have been hard. But people helped you get back on your feet, and you found your way home.” Jackie studied her toast for a moment before starting to pick at the opposite corner. “I think, because of the way I am, things don’t work like they do for most people. Things fix themselves and come back differently.” Her crooked fingers curled around the crust, and her smile returned as he confirmed her assumptions.

“It doesn’t sound like you ever really stepped away—you just changed roles. A just protector comes to mind. Very valiant.” She finished her second piece of toast and glanced at the food still left on the table, uncertain if her desire to eat more was driven by genuine hunger or the novelty of abundance. “It must have been quite the injury. Kuwait... that’s in the Gulf, isn’t it?” Her mind ticked over the things he must have seen and experienced. Experiencing and witnessing were two different things; witnessing could feel helpless—watching but unable to stop or intervene. She wasn’t sure whether she was lucky or unlucky to have survived what she had. People often said, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, but she wasn’t entirely convinced.

"Well, I have four screws in my femur, and there was a good bit of blood loss as well." He nodded. "I had some of the best physical therapists the Royal Army could offer for my recovery. I was also awarded the Military Cross, and Distinguished Service Cross for my time in Kuwait." He looked away while taking a bite of toast. "I took several bullets to my thigh in defense of my comrades." It was obvious that this wasn't something he often spoke of.

"I don't do anything special, Jackie. It is simply my job, which I take pride in." He nodded. "Yes, I was stationed on the border of Kuwait and Iraq." Even now he couldn't talk about the operation, but once the operation was declassified, he would be able to speak of the third medal he was awarded. Jackie wasn't wrong in his somewhat short life he had seen quite a few things which was likely one of the driving reasons he had turned to vigilantism prior to being recruited by Claire and Phoebe, as a teacher, instructor and team member at the institute.

Her eyes widened as he explained his injuries. It seemed she was fortunate in how her abilities had manifested—while she hadn’t been shot, she had endured injuries of a similar scale with little to no medical support, just to see how her body would respond. “I suppose some would call that lucky, injuries like that don’t always heal properly on the inside.” Jackie’s lips pressed together in thought as he mentioned his medals. She’d only ever seen awards like those on veterans’ uniforms during Armistice Day parades, and they carried a weight she couldn’t fully grasp.

“Medals like that aren’t given out to everyone,” she pointed out, her brow raising slightly. “It doesn’t sound as simple as you’re letting on.” There was a flicker in her expression as he tried to downplay her impression of him. “Maybe it’s your job,” she conceded, “but it seems like it’s something more than that. Something deep-rooted.” She shrugged, gesturing vaguely toward her feet. “What do I know? We’ve known each other less than half a day.” Her fingers curled around her half-empty cup of tea, and she took a tentative sip, letting the warmth settle her thoughts.

The talk of his injury brought back the memories of his recovery to the forefront of his mind. "This is very true which why I spent so much time in the hospital recovering. It is also one of the primary reasons that I keep to my training so rigorously." He knew how civilians saw medals, but it was very different for veterans in general.

"Outside of my injury and recovery, it was just part of the job." He saw her downtrodden look and he reached out to touch Jackie's hand cupping her tea. "I understand that soldiers have a different view of medals and awards then the rest of the world. I am not trying to downplay what I have done, just the medals I have been awarded." He chuckled, "yes, we have only known each other for less than a day, but that just means we have much ahead of us."

Jackie’s smile stayed faint, her gaze flicking to Andrew’s hand over hers. It was a small gesture, but it made her feel seen in a way she hadn’t expected again or maybe wasn’t ready for. Her fingers twitched, the impulse to pull away briefly surfacing, but she stopped herself. It was just a touch, after all. Nothing more.

Valjean had been keeping an eye and an ear out in the direction of the table, "So much ahead of you, outside the confines of this kitchen." He stepped up to the table and took away the emptied out plates, "I can only take so much of your 'umble bragging, Private Hallows." He then literally turned his back to Andrew to face Jacqueline, "If you want, you can always enjoy a meal in here." A glance shot over his shoulder before locking eyes again, "In quiet solitude."

“You’ll have to better explain it later on,” she countered, not looking up right away, her focus dropping back to her cup. Valjean’s arrival broke the moment. Jackie flinched, her reaction quick but contained to a faint prickle, before letting her smile widen slightly at his swipe at Andrew. “Sorry. Thank you for breakfast, Valjean … Chef.”