two. a lost soul.

THE DULL SOUND of water dripping down to the cool porcelain had echoed throughout the bathroom, singlets falling in an array of twos, one after the other, arriving to their final destination side by side. Jean rested against the frame of the bathtub, counting each little splatter it made before being pulled down the drain. It had been long since her bath, the remains of sponge soap and water mixture dotting around the sides of surface.

Her body had been draped in a silk robe that pooled around her knees, the peach colored fabric clashing with grey of the tiles all yet illuminating against the dark brown of her skin. Jean toyed with waist belt hovering loosely around her midriff, wrapping the band around her knuckles until they became flushed. Once secured enough in her grip, she pulled and pulled until the knot nestled over navel snapped straight, locking around her waist until the fabric hugged her skin.

And then, Jean pulled some more.

Sound had become warbled due to the lack of harden plastic around her ears, accompanied by a muffled softness that could only be replaced in similarity to if Jean had fully submerged herself in water. The thought had been there, most definitely, but she didn't have the time nor the patience currently to manage her thick from head of curls. There wasn't time for it.

The straps stretched under her palms, a soft sound of resistance being made fell unnoticed, far from Jean's mind of thoughts.

It was Sunday, Jean had regarded, eyes blinking owlishly as they strained under bright florescents pouring from each corner of the tiled bathroom, the dark colored gradients of the sink and floor doing little to hinder then. Even without moving from her position of rest, Jean felt tempted to collapse into herself until she disappeared.

But if she did, than Eddie would have been very sad, her subconscious had reminded. It was Sunday, and Mrs. Hudson had wanted them to visit, hours probably spent over the stove with the intent of providing food for guest. It would be discourteous to not even show, Jean had been raised better than that.

"Yes, because a robot for a mother and an ape dressed in a suit are perfect figures for raising a child." Jean thought to herself, ignoring the small growing ache pooling at her sides. "But it wasn't as if there was much of any other choice."

A looming prescence brought a shiver down her spine. The bathroom had long since lost its air of warmth draped by her soak, now baring a resemblance to a rainstorm chill. So close, she could picture it. Jean refrained from turning.

In her life, in her youth, there were hardly any other options of being attended to, or something akin to what CPS would classify as suitable. But it wasn't as if they held that much of opinion, nor anyone else for that matter, because how was it okay for a group of children to be trained, raised to fight battles in a way that no one else could. When you are born into the world with a vary of abilities, what other purpose would be there to serve if you didn't prove what made you worthy of them.

Reginald Hargreeves was a man of cold exterior, an man far from a symbol meant to be upheld with the highest regards in society, a take that Jean had heard for a majority of her childhood, and leading into her adult life. Even with the increasing levels of attention that the man had garnered, Reginald was never one to take fall under the weight of the pressure, and it had been assumed his children would follow in his footsteps.

Jean didn't hear the door to the bathroom open, but the sudden disruption in the air around her drew attention. Edward lingered near the doorway, shoulder resting against the wooden frame as he stared back at her with a pinched expression, lips sucked in as he ran his tongue over them. Readjusting his weight until his hands rested before him, he began to motion with them, tucking and curling his fingers in accordance to the words being said.

"Are you okay?" He signed, weighed by a proficiency that came with their years and years of knowing one another.

Jean could have spoken back to him in response as she often did in these situations. However, other times when the words felt to heavy to speak, communication still remained as Edward wasn't one to make her diffident. Besides, as choked gasp broke through walls of her teeth and allowed the screams of her lungs to be soothe, it would have been evident of the previous actions before Edward had made himself known.

"I'm fine," Jean sighed, setting free a throat scratching cough in the process. "I was just finishing my bath. Would have been out sooner, but it was too relaxing. New bath bomb."

Edward's expression twitched, a slight look of disbelief lingering in his brown eyes but it was quickly recovered with a mask of ignorance. "Of course, makes sense. But I hoped you had your phone with you--"

Jean cut off his motion, mentally strangling herself as she stumbled to her shaky feet. "Right, we are supposed to see your parents." Adjusting the fabric of her robe, she would have been unaware of her friend's signaling motion had not been for a gentle hand on her wrist, forcing her attention to rise.

This time, Edward didn't bother to hide his concern as his gaze bore into hers, stature hunched and tense as if he were trying to make himself smaller, all while looking for any signs for a rise of concern. Once he was sure that he held her focus, he signed. "We were supposed to see my parents Sunday. When I told you, it was Friday. Jeanie, it's Wednesday."

Jean was almost about to sign in response, her brows narrowed and lips pulled back to match a fixed expression of disbelief when Edward stepped back, providing enough distance for his to lift an object in her line of sight. Her phone. As the electronic device glowed to life, it was the time that caught her eyes, reading at 11:00, five hours since she had been awake. Or something close too it. Trailing to the digital wording beneath the enlarged numerical placement, reading clear as day. Wednesday.

But, that wasn't right---it couldn't have been. Her last memory that Jean was able to recall bared from her leaving work, accompanied by Edward as they made their way to their shared apartment. It was dark and cold, but how could that be right? Jean didn't get cold. Edward did though, as he had remarked and hugged his jacket closer to his frame. They had decided on take-out, like they did....on every Friday. Only for them  to stop because...

"Dead," Jean mumbled out, eyes bearing confusion while her expression lack weighed, lacked and blank. "He's dead."

Edward appeared solemn, for the fact of the realization not being the current passing hanging over them, but for how lost and uncertain the woman before him appeared. "Jean..." he trailed off, forgetting how useless speaking would be, even more so as he no longer held her focus.

Jean felt sluggish, body no longer light and weightless as a feather like before. It seemed like only a few seconds before gravity would latch around her frame and pull downward, not caring about the harshness of the ground below. Jean was sure it would have, had not been for her phone illuminating for a second time, screen littered with notifications from eight missed calls to five unanswered texts. All from the same person.

Six, now, as a new message appeared. From Allison.

Come to the mansion, Jean. It read. We're laying his ashes to rest.

Edward came into view, hands clasp to form an O shape followed by the slight slant of his outstretched pointer and middle finger, thumb in between, forming the sign for K. "Ok?"

Moving past him, even with her surroundings circling and tinged with an inky haze, Jean's voice, however, held a faux confidence in comparison. Massaging the soreness at her side, her answer finally rose into existence. "I have to go back home."

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author's note:

chapter two is here, finally!

okay so I know that this isn't much, as more exciting things will happen in the next few chapters---especially considering the next one is the Hargreaves coming together again, no matter how chaotic. It's also going to show different dynamics, which I'm excited to explore.

Nothing much to say here except, if I made any mistakes with the signing or anything else, please let me know. I wanted to show Jean and Eddie communicating through sign language, as it's implied that after they met and became close he started to learn. So, considering TUA starts in 2019 and all the Hargreeves were born in 1989 (Jean's thirty) and Eddie is older than her by a few months and, in my head, they became friends in college, so it's been a while and Eddie is fairly fluent (he'll still make some mistakes here and there).

Anyways, don't be a silent reader!

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