[Monster]

Her face felt like it was permanently fixed in a grimace, these days; In one of those usual moments where she yelled something and left through the door before her mother could protest, Catherine had told her to 'buckle your fuckin' face, mom' before leaving, this morning. Kaitlyn knew that the girl didn't mean any harm by it, and she paid the girl's cursing no mind, given that it was partially Kaitlyn's own fault thanks to coming home and blathering about her day to Daniel on and off constantly with no mind as to just who was listening; But, as right as her daughter was - And usually was - Kait wasn't entirely certain she fully understood what her mother was going through, right now. It was one thing entirely to tell her to straighten up when it came to Daniel just leaving her as he had, but.. This was her livelihood, her work. Something she genuinely enjoyed. Catherine had a career as an artist set out for herself, which was all well and good - They'd set money aside for college - but she didn't think her daughter entirely got why Kait was down. She hadn't even spoken to Valentine and yet, she got an awful sense of foreboding from this; Like she would never work in the NYPD again. It frustrated her, and it just didn't feel fair.

But then she couldn't really expect fair treatment after what her so-called 'powers' had done. She was lucky she hadn't just been handed over to some government bunch who would strip her down and experiment on her for the rest of her days. Kaitlyn had seen enough in her time in her department to know that, in ways much, much worse than the perpetual hate and bigotry on the street, mutants were targets. Or money-makers. Or just plain exploitable. She'd seen the crime families of New York using teleporters as thieves and fences, using mutants with hallucinogenics in their blood as some kind of new drug, the list was just endless. And the legislation made it difficult to pin down the people doing it, in some cases. So Kaitlyn knew that mutants had it rough. And she knew that her 'initial manifestation', as one of the eggheads had called it, was hardly a cakewalk. That wasn't her looking for a pity-party, of course - she didn't need sympathy from others - but the fallout of that little scumbag smashing his skull in against the wall of his cell was proving to be very, very toxic. She'd already been told by a handful of her friends that Valentine was going to hand her ass to her. Only they'd said it in less pleasant terms.

Oh, and yes, she didn't harbour any sympathy at all for the man who had ended up dead on that cell floor; As far as she was concerned, those who indulged in sex and slave trafficking and made money off the mass misery of others didn't deserve sympathy nor respect.

Kaitlyn did, however, entirely understand the DA's perspective; She was, as Catherine would put it, a 'clusterfuck' for the city if word got out. Especially since Kaitlyn had a relatively good career - and as such, had further to fall - and Valentine had to handle her with the gloves off, as the saying went. He had, after all, gone to great lengths in trying to present a good face for mutantkind; In fact, Kait was quite glad there was someone like him standing for something she now found herself to be, but it didn't make this any easier. Running a hand through her hair, she looked up wearily as the assistant-slash-secretary-whatever caught her attention. Immediately, the tired, weary grimace disappeared, replaced by her usual friendly smile, although she wanted to get out of here right now. Keep it pleasant, though, the doctors had informed her; Whatever her mutation was, heightened emotion seemed to make it worse. She nodded to the assistant as he gestured for her to enter the double doors to the DA's office; No greeting for her, evidently.

Swallowing the lump in her throat that felt like it was threatening to choke her, she entered, the office, and gaped slightly; She had visited here under the previous DA - some kind of planning for an operation at the time or something along those lines, she couldn't remember - and the room hadn't been quite so classy, then. She tried to restrain her smile a touch, feeling that smiling too much would make her seem false, or not entirely understanding of the severity of the situation - which she did, and yet she didn't want to appear glum. "District Attorney Valentine," she greeted, "I'm sorry to darken your door like this."

[Mulligan]

He wanted to be able to say, to think, that he hated to do what had to be done. Part of him did, hate, the fact that he was about to end this woman’s career, that he was about to tell her that she would never work in law enforcement again. Not in any way shape or form. In fact, all governmental positions would be held from her, as silently blackballed as she was going to be. He wanted to hate it, the fact that he had to do it, but he couldn’t. It hurt and it was awful and yes he wished that the world was a different place, the place that he was working so hard to make it into. But it wasn’t, and because of that he had to fully stand beside the decision that he had made. The one that his father and he had talked endlessly night after night, weighing good verses bad. Yes, she was a great officer, amazing and competent and above her peers. Yes, she had served the force for years. Yes, she was valuable and they would be weaker for the loss of her.

No, keeping her wasn’t worth the risk.

What she could do. Hell. Alex didn’t even really know how to explain it nor was he able to wrap his mind around it. Whatever it was though, it had caused that suspect to die, and while he’d been guilty and wicked that just wasn’t how the law worked. And if there was anything that Alex stuck beside more than anything else in the world, it was the law, his beloved law, and their justice system and his pure adoration of it.

Waiting and patience had never been something that Alex had excelled at, and as the hour of nine approached that morning Alex felt not really nervousness, but a sense, instead, of apprehension. He knew he could do this, he’d made choices like this before and followed through on them, but no matter how much practice he got at it, never did it become any easier to essentially ruin someone’s life.

If it had been for any other reason, her inability, a mistake made by her, perhaps then it would have been an easier blow to make. As it was, though, this was just a mutation, much like the one that Alex had, something dealt to her by genetics, through no fault of her own. Still, her suspension would be final, and a severance would be granted. She wouldn’t be fired, that would draw too much attention, but this would do. She could even appeal it, in ninety days. But Alex controlled his city well, and while there were a few there that would stand against him, she’d have to find someone amazing enough to not only have the balls to do so, but win as well.

A light buzz issued from the intercom, Sarah discreetly pressing a button on her desk, alerting him to the fact that his appointment was there, and that she would be coming through shortly. Fingers were run through his hair, and his tie straightened, Alex rising to greet the woman who was powerful enough to cause someone to so violently end their life. “Detective Mercury.” He said by way of a greeting, the ever-present smile dancing across his features, though dimmer than usual. He would be friendly, but not overly so. No good news would be shared this day. His hand was offered as he crossed the room, arm extended to take her own. “It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you. Chief Valentine speaks well of you, and often has, during the years.” It might have been easier to call the Chief his father, but family was family and business was business and already the two blended in his life more than Alex liked. “Please.” He said waving off her statement. “I welcome your company any day. It really is a shame we haven’t met sooner.” Stepping back he gestured her to a seat. “Is there anything I can get you? Water? Coffee?”

[Monster]

As much as she knew that the District Attorney had a reputation for being a pleasant, fair and kind man, Kait was still somewhat nervous about this. She had visited her department and his father - the Chief - on a handful of occasions since this mess had begun, handing in medical reports and various statements on what had happened - all to allow them to determine exactly what to do, she imagined. But it wasn't encouraging in terms of how vague the Chief had been. To put it one way - Kaitlyn had met the Chief on several occasions - less then officers who had a knack for screwing up, she'd heard - and whilst she got the feeling that he didn't necessarily approve of women on the force, he was most definitely not vague. Kaitlyn respected him about as much as she could respect her own father - if said waste of skin had bothered sticking around to raise her, of course. But it worried her that he hadn't even been able to give her a heads-up when it came to how this was going to turn out. She'd seen officers permanently suspended, dismissed, fired and the like over a hundred times, and all of them knew it was coming. This, by comparison, felt like walking into the lion's den.

But, she tried to remind herself, she had to stay positive.

The doctors had told her that whatever her mutation was, heightened emotion - especially negative ones, seemed to enhance the strength of her problem. And the last thing Kait needed on her plate right now was the terrified suicide of a man she respected and liked. As such, her best smile was basically riveted on as she entered his officer. Her movements didn't betray her nerves - a skill perfected from dozens of stand-offs and interrogations with some of the ugliest bastards New York's crime scene had to offer - and she crossed the office confidently after admittedly gaping at how beautiful the working space was. Compare and contrast with Kait, who merely had a desk - a good, large desk, admittedly - and she was decidedly envious. Still smiling - although it was a little more genuine in Valentine's presence, given he felt about as friendly as they said, she gladly shook hands with him. Imagine her surprise, then, when he didn't call the Chief his father. Kaitlyn's head cocked ever so slightly at that, surprised. It made sense. She had heard continued rumblings from some in her department that Chief Valentine's continued employment was down to his son being DA, but Kait wasn't so stupid as to think even the District Attorney had that much pull.

It did make sense, however, that the DA would separate his home life from his work life, because Kait supposed he had to be careful not to encourage such paranoia about the links. "The pleasure is all mine. However, I'll be honest, sir, I've never seen that much of the Chief. Normally, we tend to take that as some kind of indicator that we're doing okay," she remarked good-naturedly. It wasn't really any kind of ribbing, merely fact, as she and some of her fellow officers saw it. From experience, you were much more likely to have to visit the Chief if you had done something wrong than if you were working efficiently; Kait was, however, pleased to know that her boss seemed to have some positive opinion of her, given what she'd thought he thought of her. She did find it somewhat easier to relax once the DA brushed off her comment about darkening his door.

She found it unnervingly positive, given what she was here to talk about, but she eventually nodded; "If you say so, sir. I must say, I would have liked to meet you before this. You seem... Very pleasant, when I've seen you on the news and the like," she stated; Again, as much as she didn't know what to make of the DA, the man who would inevitably determine her fate, if Kait was trying to be melodramatic, he did always seem nice. She was fairly certain Catherine had something of a crush on him, if she was being entirely honest, which tickled her slightly. She sat as the opportunity was offered, hands immediately going flat into her lap, before she was offered a drink. "Ah, no caffeine for me, please - I'll go with water," she asked, "I'm trying to cut back a little. My daughter keeps telling me I'm 'wired' in the evenings. I don't think my husband's recent decision is helping me any, however," she explained, looking slightly bashful.

"If I may, sir, can I ask what decision has been made with regards to my current suspension?" Best to cut to the chase a little, she supposed, although her tone wasn't insistent at all.

[Mulligan]

Did she have to do that? Did she have to be that way? Already as she walked into his office, filled with a confidence that he had seen among his father’s “men”, spine backed with a sort of steel that could only be earned, and earned well, Alex found himself liking her. She was well put together, in a pleasing sort of way, even for a man who preferred his own gender. Her smile was kind, her hair was blonde and her hand shake had the perfect sort of pressure. He liked her, he liked her right from the start, and he didn’t think it could get any worse.

Of course, when people though that, it generally did.

She spoke and she was charming, her comment making his smile more genuine, causing it to grow from politically correct into something more natural. She was quick and formal and the fact that she was being so pleasant even though she had to be intelligent enough to know what loomed. Internally Alex sighed, though such frustrations were well hidden. He wasn’t going to show pause, or weakness, not here. He wasn’t the kind of person to tell people not to call him sir, easily giving out his Christian name. That wasn’t how it worked. If he wanted to make the world a better place, if he wanted to right the wrongs that had been made, he had to remain in control, he had to keep up that wall which separated him from everyone else.

He had to, no matter how much he might not like it.

Light laughter fell from his lips at her words, and light green eyes sparked with mirth. “I often feel the same way.” He replied with a wink. “If the Chief isn’t hunting me down for one thing or another, then I’m in the clear.” As she sat he moved to lean against his desk, standing before her and rising above but not going so far as to put the piece of furniture between them. He found that this position often worked best for such things, giving an air of casualness (no matter how false) to a serious situation.

Leaning back he pressed the button for the intercom on his desk. “Sarah, some water for Detective Mercury, please.” An affirmative was drawled back at him, in only the way that Sarah could be capable of, being so brazenly informal and yet doing her job so well. If he hadn’t known her for so long, if he hadn’t had a soft sort of spot for her. Ah, but that wasn’t the matter at hand and allowing his mind to wander was no good. “Mmm.” His head shook lightly in disagreement. “I couldn’t live without coffee.” The doors opened and Sarah entered, bringing both a glass with ice and water as well as the half full bottle from which it had been poured. “Sarah can tell you.” A smile was aimed in her direction, a well groomed eyebrow raising cheekily in return, her dropping a soft “Detective Mercury.” As she placed the two objects on the end table which stood waiting by the armrest, coasters and napkins and pens all in place.

“I couldn’t live without her either.” He added as she left, just after the doors had closed behind her, “She tends to be a little unorthodox.” Alex was musing, but his smile showed his fondness for her. It was a slip, and a mistake. “But she’s the only woman who understands me.” For those that didn’t know of his preferences, it might seem that his feelings for his assistant were a little untoward.

“Your husband?” He asked, suddenly curious and glad for the segue, easily sidestepping the direction question that she had asked him. “What sort of decision did he make?”

[Monster]

Honestly, Kait's pleasant nature was perhaps two thirds natural, one sixth trying to suppress her nerves and one sixth a reaction to how pleasant she found the District Attorney already. She was, of course, not stupid at all - her sheer number of years on the force and within her particular department were not for nothing, so it wasn't like she was some gumball moron kept around for nothing - Despite how encounters with the likes of Doctor Sofen had made her feel in the previous months. So she was perfectly aware that, well, to be melodramatic, the Sword of Damocles was effectively hanging over her head here, but at the same time she saw no reason to be unpleasant to the District Attorney. Like her up until recently, he was only able to work to the letter of the law and couldn't bend it. He didn't make the law, he merely enforced it. At least, that was Kait's understanding of the matter, although she had always paid more attention to how she had to work rather than people a million tiers and pay grades above her. But again, he was awfully pleasant - she had expected his public appearances and the nature he had displayed on the news to be something of a façade to get him more votes, but.. No, it was all real, it seemed. Kait certainly wasn't complaining.

He at least appreciated the line about the Chief, causing Kait to wonder what the man was like as a father; It was, of course, none of her business, but she couldn't imagine a man worse than her own - at least from what her mother had told her about him. Chief Valentine, however - again, Kait respected him like a father, which to her suggested he must have at least some fatherly qualities. Perhaps it was something along the lines of your parents always being nicer to someone else's children. "I do think I've seen more of him than I'd like over the past few weeks, but given the circumstances, he has been especially pleasant about these matters," she remarked politely. Again, no-one really liked seeing the Chief, even if it wasn't the clichéd experience depicted in films where the man bellowed at you from behind a desk.

Not that she could entirely imagine Chief Valentine bellowing anyway.

Speaking of which, she actively appreciated that the District Attorney didn't plant himself behind his desk. Even though Kait had that sinking feeling in her gut that this was not going to go well at all, she appreciated how approachable he was being; To a degree, it made her much more comfortable and at ease rather than being treated quite coldly and more formally. There was a time and a place for such things, of course, but for a first meeting with someone, Kait couldn't ask for better; "I think it's not so much that I don't enjoy coffee, but rather I've found myself with rather less with which to expend the energy it gives me, as of late." That wasn't, of course, any kind of a dig at the suspension she'd been given because despite her frustration, she absolutely understood why she'd been given it. Accepting the water, she offered a quiet thank you to Sarah, and smiled politely at the younger woman, before nodding along with what the District Attorney had to say about her. Kait cocked her head slightly, a pinch confused - which was naturally unimpressive given her nature as a detective. "Are you two.. An item? If you don't mind me asking?" she queried politely, perhaps misunderstanding things, but she had been through similar things with Daniel telling her that she was the only woman that 'really got him', and as such, it seemed like a natural conclusion to reach, to her.

Her brow creased slightly as she didn't want to dredge up something that she was dealing with on her own time in front of a superior - especially one like the District Attorney - And whilst she knew she hardly wanted to recount this, it was only polite to do so, given she had brought it up - a mistake on her behalf, given she wanted to throttle Daniel at the moment, as much as she wanted him back. "Well, my husband has taken my, ah.. Change of circumstances as grounds for a divorce. The night I returned home from the hospital after my last battery of tests, and it was confirmed I was a mutant, he took it upon himself to take our two youngest children and leave for his mother's home on the other side of New York. Apparently, my husband had been hiding his inner bigot for all these years, although I suppose it's one of those things he's felt perfectly fine with so long as it does not affect him," she explained, her tone only slightly bitter before she took a drink of water, draining most of the glass.

"My apologies, sir. I don't particularly enjoy sounding so foul about the whole affair around others. It's just.. It's very frustrating, I'm sure you understand."

[Mulligan]

“The Chief, pleasant?” His tone was joking, but his face was all mock seriousness. “He’s usually such a gruff old bastard. If he’s been ‘pleasant’ to you at all, he must have a sort of soft spot for you.” His father did always like caring after women, though. They were weaker, fairer. He wasn’t completely sexist, he knew that women were important and that they could be capable. Dick Valentine just also tended to think that women needed handling with kid gloves. They were fragile, prone to breakage, and this woman with her power and her lack of control, well she had only proven him right.

Alex didn’t really have an opinion on the subject of gender, except for the fact that he’d known men to be as weak as any woman knew. He also saw the hidden strengths of his own mother that maybe his father had so readily ignored. It wasn’t something that Alex thought of often, but now and again, when thinking to his father, how his father acted and how Alex never, ever, wanted to end up thinking just like that, such issues and mentalities were brought to light.

Not now, though. This, all of it, was about Kait, and why she was there and what had been done. Dicky obviously liked her, or was afraid of her, or a little bit of both. His father wasn’t one to be terrified of anything, though, so it was likely the former over everything else. Maybe that’s why Alex was in the position that he was in, doing what he was about to do. The Chief knew that if anyone could handle such a thing with tact and softness it would be his son. Or, at least, Alex hoped that was the case. It would have been much more difficult to accept if he thought that Dicky was just pushing the dregs off on his kid.

Dregs that he had to take care of, a situation that needed to be handled, Kait’s comment at not needing excess energy bringing that once more to the forefront. It should, though, and she should. This is was not a social call, no matter how much Alex might have wanted for it to be. Anything would have been better than what he was going to have to do. All the regret in the world, though, no. No. Regret wasn’t the right word. Alex wouldn’t regret his actions. He understood them and planed them himself. He could feel a sort of empathy, he could allow himself that, but guilt and remorse would not be fitting.

“Sarah and I?” He asked, glad for the reprieve, face cracking into a wide smile. “No.” His head shook at his answer, both backing the single word and silently chastising himself. “In another life, maybe.” What a big maybe that was, though. Rumor of an affair, though, of inappropriate fraternization was capable of being handled. Randy DA’s were nothing new. All of that would be acceptable. Him being gay, though, dedicated to one man and one alone, that would never be okay.

What a strange little world they lived in.

In a shift from his usual composure surprise showed openly on Alexander’s face as Kait told of the reasoning behind her mention of her husband. “Really?” His eyebrows knit together in distaste at the thought as his lips pursed tightly. No guilt, no remorse, but already all of this was beginning to tear apart the fabric of her life. She’d done nothing wrong, just been born differently. How could he blame her, how could he hold her responsible. Rationalization was something he needed, quickly and in the now, his grasp on the choice he had his father had come to was slipping rapidly. It wasn’t her fault. Just a twist of fate. Wrong place. Wrong time.

There, that was it. Maybe people’s lives were effected from such badly placed moments. Hers would just fall along in step with those. It was weak, this reasoning, but it was all that he had to keep himself strong, and he needed to. No matter how much he liked her, she would be bad for The Cause, and that was another reason, a better one, one that he could cling onto as softness began to fade from his face. He had a purpose, a large one, and he’d given up much for it. Asking for that sacrifice from himself made demanding it from others much easier.

“Not to worry.” With a wave of his hand her discomfort was banished. “It’s a frustrating situation. The whole lot of it.” And there it was, the segue from pleasantries into something more dastardly. “I’ve read up on your file, and talked to the witnesses, all of it seems a bit of a mess.” His nose wrinkled in distaste, less at what had happened and more at what he’d have to do. “I’m sure you understand my hands are tied, Mrs. Mercury.” With an opened palm and unarmed gesture, Alex landed what could be seen as the harshest blow of them all. When she’d walked into his office she’d been greeted as a detective. Now, when they were beginning to wander into the thick of things, that title was no longer hers to keep.

[Monster]

"Part of me does suspect a smidgen of gender politics in play there, if I'm being entirely honest, sir," Kait replied with a slight tone of humour in her voice, although she was naturally really quite appreciative of the fact that they were able to lighten this situation just a touch; It didn't give her hope - not at all - but it at least kept her from being perpetually on edge. "If that is the case, however, I don't think I'm complaining. It's better than the stereotypical cliché I think some seem to have in mind when it comes to him, which is all bellowing and smoking ears," she suggested lightly, not meaning, of course, to insult the District Attorney's father, but.. Well. That was the standard joke that went around when it came to the very notion of a chief of police - you saw it all the time in films and the like. Either they were supposedly over-bureaucratic assholes who embraced the 'system' far too much and expected someone to play by the rules and to adhere to the law they supposedly enforced, or they spent most of their time wearing out their vocal cords to the point where there might as well have been steam pouring out of their ears, it was just that much of a joke.

Fortunately, Chief Valentine had, in the few occasions she'd actually met him, not met either stereotype.

They both apparently seemed to drift off into thoughts about the Chief - more justified on the DA's behalf, of course, but then it was very difficult to deny the kind of impact that the Chief had on Kait's life, too. When she brought up the notion of her having a little too much energy to drink coffee, however, that seemed to darken the mood, and Kait immediately regretted it; It was, of course, hinting at the order of business that they were meeting for today, and whilst it was utterly stupid to do so, Kait was hoping that the longer she drew this out, the more chance she would have of a positive outcome. Again, it was utterly, utterly stupid, given she knew the DA's hands were tied, but.. Well, a woman had to hope; Here she was dealing with a divorce, the potential custody of her twin children going to her husband, a mother in law who loathed her, and now the potential loss of her job; She genuinely, genuinely didn't need the latter. She was forty three years old, for god's sake - How on Earth was she going to find a new job or learn a different trade in New York City, where one of the maxims for various jobs seemed to be 'the younger, the better'? She dreaded it. It would be absolutely different if it were ten years from now, and she was retiring - then she'd have no such problems, but.. Honestly? Now? What was she meant to do if she lost her job? Sit home and watch Maury and Oprah until her brain leaked through her ears?

No bloody thank you.

As such, you could bet your life that Kait almost breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the DA's face split with a smile at the notion of him and his assistant being an item. Naturally, her detective's mind spun with a variety of reasons as to the choice of words behind the 'in another life' comment - but she was far too polite and had far too much respect for Alex to ask him what he meant, and she left it at that. When it came to her significant other, however, Kait was, thanks to her frustration over the matter, a bit more forthcoming and happy to spill. She wouldn't necessarily tell just anyone, of course, but the District Attorney had asked. "Oh yes, really," she replied, with something of a bitter smile, "It's a little ironic because.. Well, from what I remember, when it came to our oldest daughter - Catherine - we always taught her to be more accepting of people who were different. And Daniel was always very insistent. I suppose once the shoe's on the other foot, nothing can be done, though," she remarked, and it was clear, despite her bitter tone, that she was really rather broken up about it all.

How could she not be? It wasn't like Kait had knelt at her bedside one night and prayed for all of this to happen to her at once.

Alex went on to tell her not to worry about venting about such things, sympathising and telling her the whole lot of it was frustrating, but.. Well, it would take an idiot not to notice the distinct change in the atmosphere, suddenly, as if the pleasantness had been sucked out of the room, and they actually got to the meat of things. "Quite," she replied simply on the notion of it being a bit of a mess; Her daughter had branded the situation with less polite terms, the most popular of which was 'clusterfuck', which Kaitlyn had to admit had a very, very nice ring to it, frankly. But her expression dropped, the smile as she thought of her daughter immediately fading, when the District Attorney told her his hands were tied and that he was sure she understood. She bit her lip; What was she to do? She wanted.. She wanted to scream, for one. Throwing herself out a window and ending this misery seemed like another option. Her lips pressed together a little more tightly before they quivered a little, her eyes scrunching closed as she willed herself not to cry. She was a grown woman and she was not going to.. No, scratch that, apparently she was. Thick tears quickly began to stream from her eyes, mingling with the make-up she wore and creating those almost clichéd black streaks running down her face. "I.. I.." she stammered, quickly trailing off.

Honestly, she'd cried so much, lately, what with Daniel leaving, but it was more than she'd cried in the past ten years. Although it bordered on melodrama, she buried her face in her hands, continuing to cry, and slowly but surely starting to seeth a little. Finally, she sobbed, swallowed, and stared at Valentine with an obviously pained expression. "No, I'm afraid I don't understand, District Attorney," she retorted bitterly, her frustration evident in her tone, and the bitterness basically dripping from her every word like the tears that had, up until just now, flowed from her eyes; "It feels like I'm being cast to the curb in order to not make a scene. It feels like I'm being kicked to the ground and spat on for something that isn't really my fault!" she told him, her voice starting to rise uncontrollably, "There are handfuls of dirty cops in the force who don't have nearly the dedication nor love nor care for this city and this job and the people out there that I do. And they'll carry on taking their bribes and letting things slide for people who deserve to be locked away for life. You know for a fact I feel terrible for what happened, but those people will cause a thousand times more damage to your police force and your reputation than I ever would," she told him, "But I'm cut loose and left to flounder. And this isn't even my fault - there are no tests for mutants when we have physicals - and there are no rules against mutants. That's beside the point because I didn't even know. But.. Who's going to touch me after this? Who's going to want me? I have no job. I have no husband. My children are going to be taken away from me and it's extremely likely that I may lose my home. I'm forty three years old, District Attorney - What am I meant to do with my life after this? Where am I meant to go? Who am I meant to be? I may as well be dead, along with that boy. I'm derelict. I'm useless. I have nothing to offer the world except my skills as detective. But you.. You expect me to understand your position. Who even cares about MINE?!" she demanded, starting to cry again.

She didn't even contemplate that this could set her powers off.

[Mulligan]

She was crying. She was crying and Christ this had not at all been what Alex had expected when the appointment had been made. He was a man capable of handling many things, and many people, but like all those who lived and breathed weaknesses existed, and as clichéd and popular as it might be, tears, especially those of a woman were one of his. And that, maybe that, was why his father had handed this off to him. As much as Alex was incapable of seeing tears spill from feminine eyes, his father was even more so. All Clementine had to do was threaten a single quiver of her lip and both of the blood related men in her life were scrambling to do whatever they could, whatever they had to, in order to quell the fall.

Here, though, Alex knew that he would be unable to stop the flood, even as it started. That knowledge, however, did nothing to make it easier, or even make him feel better, and pain shot sharp and solid through him as he reached into his jacket looking for his pocket square. A piece of cloth which was not where he had left it, the blonde haired green eyed man groping fruitlessly for it before remembering that no, no it was in the top corner of his desk, stacked with the rest, ironed and crisp and clean. Silent, though failing to be stoic he hurried to the other side of the piece of furniture, the well-worn and crafted wood drawer sliding open with ease, revealing that which he was looking for within.

“Miss Mercury.” He began, his tone filled with the hurt that he felt as well as the understanding that he was trying to express, knowing as he did that more likely than not the attempt was as close to futile as one could get. Trying to be soothing and empathetic were not the things that this woman needed, Alex knew this, he knew it but he also knew that there was very little more that he could offer. The decision had been made and passed and approved and no matter how much pain and discord it might bring to her life, there was no way that they could keep her within the city’s employee.

Unable to offer that though, he could at least try for comfort, and the white and embroidered square that he held within his hand. “I know.” Were the first words that he said, but they were as much a lie as they were not. How could he know? How could he even possibly hope to fathom? He had things in his life, issues, that were comparable, but he’d never been in the same footsteps of the woman before him, and he never would.

“You’re a risk.” His words were soft but firm, “And I think you know that just as much as I do.” He’d seen the pictures, he’d heard the statements. The young man had died so horrifically, and of his own volition. “It’s not a scene that we worry about.” It was, and him saying that it wasn’t was a lie, another one, iced over in the frosting that the whole of politics was made of. “We can’t have you hurting anyone else, Kait. We can’t have you doing whatever you did that made him hurt himself.” It wouldn’t make it any better, and he knew that it would not sooth the wound, but he hoped that she could understand that much. “We know you didn’t do it on purpose.” For a while he’d thought that maybe she had, but now, after meeting her, he knew that was an impossibility. “And in a way, that makes it worse. You have no control over whatever it is, and because of that, you, well, not you, your body, your mutation can’t be trusted.” Not just for the reason that she might cause more physical injury but the damage that she could do to everything that he was trying to put together. It would be all too easy for registration to be passed if word got around of what she could do, her fault or not

Control, that was all she needed. With it maybe she could hide herself from the world, maybe, if he could help, if he could direct her to Emma, to someone, but god then that would tie her to him, to his world and risk all that he had.

But as she stood there, weeping and with ire beginning to show, anger that he could not begrudge her, how could he just leave her to flounder alone?

“I can't help you get your job back.” Why was he even thinking this? He was a coward, and a politician, and always he thought to that first. But here, when confronted with the realness of the world and the staggering rawness of her pain. “You will never work for the NYPD again.” The lines he spoke seemed harsh, but they were just truths, truths that would lead up to what he offered next. “There is nothing that I can do to help you there.” He couldn’t, or he could but he wouldn’t. Even that which he was about to say would be more of a risk than safe little Alex had taken in his life.

But maybe if he’d taken more risks he’d have found himself a happier man.

Nick’s visit had been painful, but maybe there had been reason to the rhyme.

“But there is someone I know. Someone who I think can help you, in a lot of this.”

[Monster]

She knew she was making a scene. There was something in the back of her mind that absolutely told her that she was making a scene and that she needed to stop this because she was a grown woman and this was absolutely unbecoming of her; But on a more basic level, she absolutely didn't care any more. She had been pushed and prodded and pulled and ripped and torn at over this past month, and she was absolutely through with it; A divorce. A husband who loathed her because of what she was genetically, without choice. A mother in law who continued to send abusive phone calls. Two children she would likely not see again because she knew how the state worked against mutants. A job she loved but couldn't take part in any more. The chance that she might lose her home. And here was District Attorney Valentine telling her that he was sure she understood. And no. No she didn't. This was - this was the equivalent of something Catherine told her about - this was a Montreal Screwjob; she felt like she was just being swept under the rug and manipulated - to what ends, she didn't know, but it just felt incredibly similar to what had happened last year, when she had been forced to go and see a recommended psychologist after an encounter with a mutant.

She felt that if her superiors in the department had their way then, she would have been swept under the rug then, because she knew that the force liked to keep anything involving mutants - anything that made them look inept - under wraps; That wasn't speaking - or thinking - badly of the Chief, she just knew how things worked. Numbers were tweaked at times to make the force's results look better. "How. Do you. Know?" Kaitlyn demanded of him, angrily, "I concede that I don't know a lot about you, Mister District Attorney sir, but you don't know. You couldn't possibly know," she told him. She just felt ready to explode, and she was doing it at entirely the wrong person. Again, the back of her mind told her to shut up, that Alex was likely the only man who had really given a damn that she'd spoken to as of late, and that this couldn't be his fault, but.. It was a floodgate. All the frustration she couldn't release around her daughter, it was here. Now. And it was almost tangible.

No, scratch that, it actually was tangible. Kait couldn't tell, but her anger was started to literally ooze from her like a musk or a scent, affecting the environment around her. Her appearance started to slightly degrade, and there might've been a tang - like blood in copper - hanging on the air that you could taste. It was only going to get worse.

It might have halted in it's severity as Alex tried talking sense into her, explaining that she was a risk - she knew - and that whilst they understood she hadn't done it on purpose, she wasn't safe to be around, couldn't be trusted; She thought those words might break her heart most of all. More than anything Daniel had said in his spiteful tirade when he was expressing how angry he was that she had let this go on for years, that he had slept with a mutant; More upsetting than seeing her twin babies cower at the sight of her based on what Daniel was saying about her, because her work really meant a lot to her; It wasn't her entire life, wasn't the biggest part of her - as she'd told the intimidating blonde last years - but it meant so, so much to her; she'd worked hard, been absolutely steadfast and resolute, never taken a bribe and helped others up with her through the ranks, and now she was being talked about as being untrustworthy. She knew.. She - she almost chuckled with bitter irony - understood just what Alex was saying - it wasn't a mark on her character - but it just stung so badly. Like it was her fault this had happened.

Part of her almost wished it were. At least that would be explainable.

And naturally, despite Alex trying to put it in perspective and explain it as best he could, Kait still felt herself feeling worse and worse over this matter, and her ability slowly, gradually continued it's onset.

"So you thought that bringing me in here and trying to make me feel better was the best option? You know what I can do, sir. You're putting yourself at risk when you could have merely sent me a little letter from your lovely assistant with your name printed and signed at the bottom, and that would have been the end of it," she told him, becoming angry that the District Attorney was risking himself talking to her like this. He'd seen the results of the tests done on her, knew the risks involved, and still he brought what he knew would be a very emotional woman before him to basically say 'no, you're done' in a very polite manner. "I respect your desire to talk to me in person, sir, but this is irresponsible. You know I can hurt people and yet you still let me in here," she continued, her tone a mixture of sadness and frustration.

"I didn't expect help, sir. Nothing's been offered so far, so I've learnt not to hope for anything. You find yourself less disappointed that way," she stated bitterly, dabbing at her eyes - which were likely looking more and more severe to the point that they were less and less present under the influence of her ability - with the handkerchief she had been given. The words she was coming out with now were nothing short of melodramatic, but Kait felt she had earned it, at this point. And then the District Attorney tried to be kind, again; If she were feeling less bitter, if this had come before the rest of the mess that had arisen from her being genetically different, she likely would've embraced his offer of help - whoever it was from;

"Help? Unless it's something they can jab in my arm to get rid of all this nonsense or it's someone you know who can put a bullet in my head for cheap, I doubt anything will help right now, sir." She was clearly still bitter, and could've launched into yet another tirade about all the things that needed fixing in her life, but even though she was positively seething, she didn't think the DA deserved that...

[Mulligan]

He was losing control of the situation, of their meeting, and where everything was going. Alex hadn’t expected to be able to stay on top of it all, to direct it down to the last detail, but generally he had a talent at being able to steering people and their conversations down the paths he wished for them to travel. With her, though, with the subject at hand and the high emotions in play, Alex was failing miserably, more so than he had at anything in a very long while.

The emotion should not have so thrown him. He’d been exposed to it and worse within the courtroom, in that life that he had lived before the one he found himself in now. There were times when things like emotion mattered, and there were times when other things mattered more, when the best thing to do was to acknowledge it, to allow it, and then move on. He had done this with her, he had said that he understood, he justified her feelings, but that was the extent of his ability, of his know-how. At no point in time did he think that it would be a band-aid solution, that somehow it would all be ‘better’. But he had assumed that he could have made some difference, some dent, and that they could have begun the climb, together, risk as it was to his career, back towards a positive position in her life.

Alexander had thought that, but he’d been wrong.

Her words were angry, obviously so, but Alex had never been a man to wilt when faced with anger. Yes, it might seem like that was how he would be, friendly and approachable and just all around nice as he appeared to the rest of the world. And yes, in his home life, away from his work, Alex was the passive one in almost all situations. In his office, though, in his suit, backed by the desk behind him and the title before his name, Alex was steadfast. He felt badly, as much was obvious, but he would not back down on the decision that had been made. That was not his way, nor was it in the imprinting of his character. He had made a choice and he would stick with it, for better, or worse, much as he seemed to do with everything.

Pity for him that everything he stood so firmly for always seemed to drift towards the side of worse.

It was the smell that hit him first, although he didn’t so much smell the air around him as feel it, taste it, that sharp and metallic thing at the back of his throat, like the warning of a coming storm. Swallowing to rid his mouth of the taste Alex kept his gaze locked upon her features, not allowing for himself to look away. This was a challenge now, a fight if not of the physical kind, and if he were to back down, or to show weakness, it might be reflected in his position, his office and everything that he did.

To him it felt as if he were doing things the right way, as though he was responding as he should have been, and if it had been any other situation, that might have been the case. As it was, though, Alex really should have known better. He had read the case files, seen the pictures, heard the firsthand accounts. It didn’t make it as though he had been there, but it was as close as he could have been without actually being. He should have known, he should have been aware, and yet he wasn’t.

And just as soon as he was thinking those disastrous thoughts, she was saying them, bringing light to the blatant mistake that he’d made. His father had pushed for this, knowing, had he thought that somehow his Alexander would have been able to skirt such a situation? So many Valentines, and so many wrong assumptions. Where would all the time go?

She continued to speak, the once cop before him, but once the reality of his situation was brought to the forefront of his mind, Alexander couldn’t shake the thought of it, the importance. Already at the edges he could begin to see his world begin to crumble, already he could see her start to degrade, the woman going from being a beauty hidden within the NYPD to something else entirely, a walking corpse, the reanimated dead. Terror filled him, his breath catching fully within his chest. He had been so foolish, so very, very foolish, and he had no idea what to do to save him now.

The horror was not just from her, but from within his mind, from the pictures that he had seen, from what he knew of what that man had done to himself[i] to stop whatever was just [i]beginning to occur with him. How could he stop it? How could he survive?

She was the one in control, and because of that she was the only option.

Eyes held tightly closed, calming breaths being struggled to be hand, Alex closed his hands into fists at his side. “Miss Mercury.” He croaked, his voice much more of a ragged whisper than he expected it to be as the fear attempted to consume him. “Kaitlyn. Please. It’s happening.” If she could even think enough to either stop it or to, at the very least, leave, perhaps then it would not end up as the last time had.

[Monster]

It maybe wasn't so much the District Attorney's fault as it was Kait's, really. Or perhaps it was just how.. How things had built up; She'd been struck one blow after another in very, very quick succession as of late. Maybe more than she could really count, in some ways, and this was basically the last straw. It was, as such, not Alex's fault - he just had the misfortune to be the person who had basically delivered that finishing blow, that knockout. And whilst Kait would have been willing to be reasonable, usually, this was her job. Her life, the last fragment of her old self that was now being stamped on and kicked in the gutter, to be flushed away and never seen again. It was that last thing that she had been clutching to, that last piece of her old life, the thing she had wanted to be since she was a child; A number of images were flashing through her mind - Harry Callahan, him shooting his ridiculously oversized gun, his dismissal and subsequent embrace of the system - all of that seemed weirdly relevant now, somehow, although Kait knew she was just scrambling for some kind of.. Some kind of explanation. As to why it was her. Her who got shit on. It felt like she was being forced to close the book on her life, somehow, like her life was just a movie like Dirty Harry. She bit her lip, stopping it from trembling, as her mind flashed through a number of her own images, now.

The first time she'd ever shot a gun, just the sense of recoil, the feeling of power. The knowledge that it was something that could be abused, and it was your duty not to. Her first on foot chase. Her first interrogation. The first cup of coffee she'd had whilst taking a break from that interrogation. A single time she'd stepped over the line and threatened to break someone's jaw if they kept talking the way they did. When she'd met Daniel. It frustrated the Hell out of her that this one thing, this one fucking huge black mark was ruining everything for her. She understood why - of course she did, she wasn't so stupid or completely lacking in morals as to think she could just brush this under the carpet, but she was still just.. Struggling, somehow, to entirely accept this as her fault, really; Maybe it was the fact that this hadn't been her intention - naturally, she hadn't wanted to kill the boy - that just frustrated her. Again, it was the kind of feeling that just.. She didn't know what she was going to do. This was it. It felt like her life was over and she was essentially going to have to start from scratch..

It was terrifying. There was just no other word for it.

But none of this was really Alex's fault, and if Kait hadn't received the equivalent of several blows to the gut lately, she wouldn't be basically shooting the messenger. And as such, as she sat there, simmering in her own loathing and absolute frustration, she had no idea what she was doing to Alex. She should've known better herself - Hell, she'd actually warned him about it, so why had she even come here? She knew in her gut what the result was going to be. But she didn't have a clue. Until his breath choked in his chest, she had no idea what was going on, no idea what he was seeing; She didn't, after all, detect or even know what effects her 'ability' had, just what she'd read in the reports herself. But she recognised that look on his face the very second she looked up, observed him; She recognised it so well and it chilled her to the bone, because it was the exact expression that she had seen several weeks ago, now, staring at her in absolute horror. She recalled the notes, remembered what that boy had screamed about - the stink of rot, the way she'd appeared as a corpse. She had thought it was all an act and had thrown him into a cell to think things over, but not before she made it perfectly clear she was going to be outside.

She got it, now. She understood it. It was her. Proximity, closeness, call it whatever, she was doing this.

And she had no idea of how to stop it; The doctors had told her that it had to be some kind of chemical-based reaction to her own negative emotions, although they didn't understand it entirely themselves, and could only suggest that the best thing would be to try and calm down and 'get happy'. Like she was fucking Judy Garland or something. Regardless, it was clearly, clearly not going to happen here; You try calming down when it seemed like you were going to traumatise the District Attorney of New York into committing suicide and sending himself to an early grave. Of course she panicked, getting to her feet even as he tried to explain; She knew exactly what was going on, but she was terrified. Terrified that she was going to do it all over again, terrified that she was going to have truly innocent blood on her hands. She desperately clutched at Alex's shoulders, practically pleading with him; "Mister Valentine, please, please - You.. You've got to fight it. I'm sorry - I'm so, so sorry," she told him, obviously horrified by what was going on and desperately wanting this to stop; "I can't.. I don't control this - I don't know how," she declared, petrified.

If she wasn't so scared, she would have had the common sense to leave; But she had no idea how quickly her effects on him would wear off, how far gone he was, for lack of a better term. If she ran off now and he still ended up killing himself, that made her look so much more guilty; As such, the prevailing argument in the back of her head screamed that she basically had to ride out the storm and make sure he got through this, although she was fully aware he could die from terror..

[Mulligan]

He could do this. He could, really. He’d done more in the past month than he’d ever thought himself capable of, and now, in that moment, with whatever horror that was overcoming him, well, overcoming him, Alex had confidence in his ability to handle the situation. Never could he say that he’d been in worse, but he’d been in similar. No, okay, no he hadn’t been in similar either. This was pretty bad, this was as bad as it ever had been, as bad as, maybe, those stories from Vietnam that his father had never told him. Stories filled with melting flesh and burning skin, walking corpses and living dead.

With his eyes closed he had hoped that it would be easier, just as he had hoped that as reached backwards to gripped at his desk that the once-detective would do as he had asked, that she would leave him, and leave him be. He wished her to be kind enough to do that, to go away from him, to take with her whatever sort of horrendous power that had been forced upon her genetic code. That made the fear of it all worse, the terror that pulled his skin tight against the bones of his face. This was not her doing, this was not something done on purpose, at least according to her, and that meant that she had no control of it. She had no control, and she could neither start nor stop it, and because of that he could not find it within himself to be angry at her for causing this.

Sometimes that kindness within him, the white-burning light that always looked for the goodness in all, blinded him from the reality of life.

But not even blindness would save him now, and neither would his new found sense of courage. All throughout his life Alex had been a coward, a fact that had been his biggest secret. Even bigger than the fact that he was gay. Always he had done as he was told, as he was expected, and never truly stuck his neck out on the line for anyone or anything. He’d been a good man and a successful man and a just man, but never a brave one. And as he stood there, blind to what was before him, but still knowing that it was still there, fear twisted its fingers sharply into him destroying any pretense of bravery that might be within him as it did so.

Except it wasn’t fear, and those were actual fingers. Fingers that felt as though the softness of skin and muscle had been removed, fingers that felt as though only bone remained, clamping harshly around his shoulders, spearing through the cloth that made up both his jacket and his shirt. “Please.” He whined, the sound much more pleading and desperate than had been the intention. He still refused to open his eyes, to look, to face what monster was there, the stuff of nightmares, suddenly in if office where a woman had just been, where something that he could have dealt with had been seated.

The dread was unnatural, but he didn't know that. Part of him might have, the part of him that could remember the report that had been written and what she herself had said, but this was deeper than any rational thought, this was snowballing as it careened through his mind getting worse and worse with each passing second. She told him to fight it, and he wanted to, but he couldn't. He simply wasn't strong enough.

Calling for Sarah seemed like it would be an option, and he moved to do so, gasping for breath in order to make the sound, his features twisted in a disturbingly accurate depiction of his emotions. He would call for her, and she would come and some how she would be the one to fix this. Sarah, after all, fixed many things. But calling her into this, bringing her in here, what if it somehow hurt her? What if the power that was over him wasn't just within his mind, what if it was real? The lines between what was and what wasn't were blurring, blending together in his head, leaving him unable to discern.

But he knew enough that calling Sarah in wasn't an option. He was alone, alone like he was always alone, like he always had been, like he always would be. And as the dread and the terror of it all closed in, so too did melancholy brought on by this solidarity from the world. Tears streamed down his face, uncontrolled, as helpless noises were made in the back of his throat. He didn't know what to do, he didn't know how to react, and he was just so alone, alone and scared and without hope of rescue.

[Monster]

Kait could tell this was going to end badly; Either it ended badly somewhere down the line for her when the District Attorney sent an armed squad of men to her home for what had happened here, or she didn't even make it out of here alive, or the District Attorney went the same way as that boy in the cell, scared out of his mind over something that wasn't there; She recognised the signs - of course she recognised the signs. As far apart morally and the like that the youth Kait had killed and the District Attorney were, apparently whatever the two of them could see, feel, hear, and probably smell at the moment was entirely the same. And Kait, naturally, was horrified; She had.. Well, naturally, killed men before - as a last resort, of course - and she had difficulty expressing real remorse over the boy in the cell; Yes, it had been horrific, and no, it wasn't her call, but it didn't cancel out the things he had done in life; But she knew she couldn't allow the same thing to happen here. Once, when she had no idea what had been going on? She felt.. Well, it was terrible, but she didn't feel the blame was entirely hers, but here? If she let this happen to Alex now, she was as guilty as could be, and she knew it. But how on Earth could she possibly get this to stop? It was the most vicious of circles, kicked off by Kait's anger and frustration over the matter, and now?

Now it was just being perpetuated and fueled by Kait's own terror over what was happening, she just knew it. And there was no way she was going to calm down quickly enough before Alex could possibly be calm himself, not when she was actively going to be worrying about him and worrying he was alright. There didn't seem to be any answer here that involved Kait staying in the room, and yet.. She was afraid. She couldn't imagine just running out on this meeting with the DA, not when the man was essentially going to be deciding her fate - as melodramatic as that sounded - surely running away would just cement her guilt, or lower his opinion of her even further? She couldn't.. She just couldn't. But as he pleaded with her, the words choked and terrified, seemingly barely able to leave his mouth, Kait knew that it was either going to be her or him. And she couldn't have something like this on her conscience. Not this. Not a good man who she respected and - outside the decisions he was making involving her life and her livelihood - had rather liked. She wouldn't have it. Looking into his eyes, not even wanting to comprehend whatever it was that he could see when he saw her - some kind of monster, some hideous thing - she could see nothing but terror. And.. And if that was what her life had to be, now? If she was going to be sentenced for what happened here today - essentially assaulting the District Attorney of New York?

Then, she supposed, at least he wouldn't be dead; Her panic still coursing through her veins, she nonetheless found the resolve to step back, hoping that immediately lessened the effects of... Well, whatever it was that her abilities did; "I'm.. I'm sorry, sir," she mumbled bleakly, knowing that this could be it for her, before she grabbed her bag, and hurried, clearly scared, from the room; Slipping through the door, she left it wide open for Alex's assistant to quickly enter, demanding that she "I'm.. I'm sorry, I have to.. I've got to get out of here. Please, go and help him," whilst hoping that her.. Her power didn't render any rescue effort null and void. Tears beginning to stream from her own eyes, Kait stumbled, tripped, and fell as she tried to descend the stairway out of the building, and with a random noise of frustration, she bundled her spilled things back in her bag, and hurried out of the building. In her car, she just.. Kait broke down, shaking as she began to cry, clutching at the wheel - the only thing she could - for some kind of support.

It was over, at least, but deep inside, Kait knew she was finished...

--Exit Kait--

[Mulligan]

This was the most horrific moment in Alexander Valentine’s life. Nightmares that he’d never had were suddenly reality and with each second that she remained there, everyone passing with the pounding of his heart, the horrors visited upon him seemed to increase.

He wanted her to leave. So, so badly he needed to her just to go, to be gone, to leave him to deal with what he was being faced with. At the same time, though, Alex didn’t want to be alone like this. He wanted someone to be there and someone to save him. Normally he was so capable of standing on his own two feet, normally he was the one who could take anything and run with it. He was able to deal with all that life had tossed in his direction so far.

But this? This was too much.

His fear was paralyzing and as she continued to stand there, to remain, Alex found that he could no longer form words. Whimpers and mumbles were all that could be freed from his lips, and soon the support of the desk wasn’t enough, Alex finally sinking to the floor it a wretched heap.

She spoke, but as much as he was unable to voice his own thoughts, he was just as unable to hear her, or, really, to hear what she was actually saying. Things progressed exponentially towards worse as time went on, and all of his senses were being affected by the hallucinations. Not only was it sight and smell, not only did he feel as though the world around him was different against his skin, but her voice was no longer hers.

Where moments ago a strong and capable once-officer of the law had stood, now it was replaced with something else entirely. And where Alex had just been, a man who was unyielding in his beliefs and policies, a man who always put his city first, there was now someone that had been stripped of all his courage, of all the bravery that he had ever had. In that moment he would have agreed to anything, would have done anything to make it all just go away.

And she did, she left him, and he wasn’t even coherent enough to notice her doing so.

Sarah would find him like that, rushing in once sent in a flurry of high heels and agitated wings. She would kneel and attempted to sooth him, but it would be hours and days before all was right again.

And that moment, those of them strung together, would be ones that Alex would never forget.