formerlysiryn | (no subject)

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It's a distant thing now, her love for Jamie, but when she hears him - when he actually prays to her - she doesn't hesitate. Theresa Cassidy hears him, and the Morrigan answers the call.

It still amazes her, how easy it is to end something like the situation Jamie and Layla have found themselves in. She makes Jamie the man he once was, she dispatches the police with what amounts to a flick of her wrist, and it's done. It makes all her memories of the huge fights and struggles she's gone through in the past feel like child's play, and the memories of the women who have been the Morrigan before her agree.

Soon she finds herself having tea with the couple, and informing them of the team's whereabouts with ease. Being back in their presence is good - she can see them whenever she wants, but never visits - and she knows Jamie's answer to bringing X-Factor back together before he says it.

Strangely enough, she's okay with it.

There is a buzz in the back of her mind that reminds her the Morrigan has more important things to do than gossip and drink tea with mortals, and she says farewell to Jamie once more. Stepping out of the front door is only for their comfort; once the door closes behind her, she moves back to her realm.

What she expects to see are trees, rocks, a stream.

What she gets is a noisy city and and a feeling like the very air itself is pressing against her skin, trapping her in her own body.

The only outward sign of frustration she makes is a narrowing of her eyes (if she were to see them now, she'd be surprised to see the green irises returned, no cloudy gray covering them up), and she tries again.

There's no change. The same sounds and smells assault her senses, and a slight feeling of panic begins to envelop her - and the fact that she feels panic at all worries her even more. After taking a deep breath and pushing back those feelings, she listens. Beyond hearing, beyond seeing, she should be able to sense every single life on this street, in this city, in this country. Wherever she is, she should know in a heartbeat, but it doesn't work.

It's as though she's working with a burlap sack tied over her head and no information is coming through right. Darrow, she can get, and not much else. She tries again, and there is nothing but an endless stream of noise, too many minds to sort through the way she should be able to...no.

There.

Terry hears herself gasp as she comes back to herself. It can't be him. He's vibrant and similar to the lives around him - she almost passed him over at first - and she doesn't sense death around him, not the way she'd expect of a dead man, but... she has to see.

Without another thought to her current situation, Terry follows a tenuous thread, walking city streets until she stands outside a door, knowing he's behind it.

Her father, alive and himself.

How?

[She is wearing this.]

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"What have ye been doin' with yerself?" she asks, hating the idea of him having been here alone, without anyone with him. As much pain as she had been in, at least Terry had some sort of support system and friends to eventually help. She couldn't imagine lasting long on her own.

"Oh, I keep busy," Sean replies vaguely, unconcerned. His days may feel all too empty, but it's not for a lack of things to do. "Workin', mainly."

"Workin'?" Terry repeats, surprised to hear it. "Doin' what?"

"Law enforcement, of a sort," Sean replies vaguely, adept at dodging that particular question. "I cannae really talk about it, truth t' tell, ye ken how it goes. But nothin' too concrete."

She hadn't expected that answer, and it brings to mind the stories she's heard of the work he did before she was born. "Are ye not with the X-Men? Is there even an X-Men here?"

"Nae that I've heard," Sean replies with a shrug. He knows that he's hardly the only mutant around, but they seem to remain the stuff of whispers in Darrow. Likely for the best, considering some of them, he figures. "'Fraid all that's still after me time, anyhow."

"After yer...what?" Terry turns her attention away from where she'd been peering into the kitchen and back to Sean. "What d'ye mean, after yer time?"

"That's... a wee bit more complicated of a matter, I'm afraid," Sean admits, turning to face the window for a second. As far as he can tell, 'complicated' is a way of life for their kind and he has no doubt she'll be alright with it; it's his own ability to easily explain that he doubts. "This place likes t'play fast an' loose with a lot o' things when it comes to pullin' folk here. Things likes time."

"I hate time travel." Terry makes her way over to the couch and sits down with a sigh. She saw little positive about the practice, especially after Jamie and Layla's return from whatever damned future they'd wound up in.

"If ye're from before the X-Men, then how d'ye know so much? How-- how d'ye even know who I am?"

"Before comin' here, I was in another place, a lot like here in a lot o' ways," Sean explains as plainly as he can. "Met a lot o' folk from me... future, I s'pose."

He doesn't like calling it that. As if it's all set in stone for him somewhere on down the line.

"So ye've been what," she says, incredulous, "livin' in strange other universes?"

It's so bloody X-Men. She knew she was right about him still being alive. She knew.

"An' welcome to the club," Sean replies with a little flourish, since it's as succinct a summary of some of the turns their lives have taken as any.

Terry makes a face. She loves being back in a room talking to her father again, but did it have to be in an alternate universe with all the weird crap that comes along with that?

"For how long? What do ye remember last about bein' home?"

"'Fraid that's a bit of a tangent all by itself," Sean sighs, wearied but not nearly enough to kill his good mood any. It's tough enough for him to understand, though, and he's the one who's lived it.

"Before bein' pulled here like yerself, I was in... another place, sorta like it, an' that was nae long after yer mum passed. But that was a long while back, now, an' now it's all muddled together, but 'fore I came here, I was undercover overseas. Still no word o' yer X-Men, but I was lookin' into a group called Factor Three I hear tell they eventually tangled with?"

"Aye," she says, and leaves it at that as she takes it in. Somehow, the universe saw fit to give her father back, but of course there was fine print. He hadn't even joined the X-Men yet.

"How much d'ye know about me?" she asks, wondering if there would be even more to add on top of the already terrible news she would be sharing. It's not the sort of news that accompanies a joyful reunion, but there had been, for a few blessed hours, another member of the Cassidy clan. He deserves to know, at least.

Lord, where to even begin with that one?

"I... know that ye're brilliant, an' brave, an' brash as all hell. I know that ye've had yer demons an' come on through to the other side. I know how ye came t'be, how I missed out on bein' in yer life an' how I found ye again. I know that ye take after yer mum enough to make up for all the bits o' meself I see in ye. What am I missin'?"

"I think ye covered it all," she says at length, blinking back tears. There may be all sorts of time travel and universe weirdness going on, but he's her father. There's no mistaking that.

She takes a deep breath to clear her mind. "Lots has happened since ye were gone. Goin' over all of it will take time, but there are a couple things I need to tell ye."

Sean smiles at her reaction and shrugs. At least he can still get some things right in all this.

"For you? I've nothin' but time, lass."

Terry smiles, and shakes her head. There's so much to cover, she almost doesn't know where to start.

"I took yer name, first of all. Banshee." She rubs her hands together, wishing she had a bottle to hold. "A lot happened and I wanted t'get away from it, so I dropped me name an' took yours."

It's almost as though a veil has been lifted as she thinks back to all the events that have happened since he died; some memories are more vivid than others, and after weeks of the sweet detachment being the Morrigan had provided, the memories are a bit overwhelming.

How is she even supposed to lead up to what she wants to tell him? How is she supposed to tell him about Sean?

When she speaks again, her voice is small and wavers. "So much has happened, da."

"Oh, lass," Sean says, pulling her into another hug. He may have no clue how to be a supportive father, but just standing by while her heart threatens to pour out just doesn't seem to be an option here. "Name suits ye better, anyhow."

"Aye, it does," she says with a small laugh, grateful to be able to have his arms around her again. He's not just a combination of memories, video, and possible hallucinations anymore.

At least when she'd talked to him in her head, he'd known everything already. It had been easier to draw on his memory when she needed a guide, a conscience. Now, she's faced with actually telling him, saying things out loud, and it's harder than she could have thought.

"So much has happened," she repeats, unwilling to move away or have to look in his face just yet. "I dinna know if ye know Jamie Madrox. I loved him, for a long time. I...I got pregnant. He was perfect, da. He had ten fingers and ten toes and he was so soft and I named him Sean, after ye. I can't remember ever bein' so happy." Those few hours, hard as they are to remember, are the ones that still give Terry some sort of joy. That for a short time, she'd held her son and had been absolutely, truly happy for the first time in her life.

And the rest of the memories...she's forgiven Jamie some of it, but only some. The pain is still there, and she doesn't even bother trying to stop the tears.

"Jamie makes duplicates of himself, ye ken. It was a dupe who fathered Sean, and when Jamie touches his dupes, he absorbs them back into himself. We didn't know, and I let Jamie hold him. And...he was gone. Two whole hours, and then I lost him."

It's curious, Sean thinks, in a detached sort of way. Were he an outside observer, uninvolved, he thinks that he wouldn't expect such news to hurt, at least beyond sympathy, an ache for the way it clearly devastates Theresa. But it does, it hits him like a shot in the gut. For all that it's some tragedy from another life, a time he isn't meant to ever see, something else, it doesn't halt the swell of joy he feels at the news of Terry, his girl, having a child of her own, of them both bearing his name after a fashion. It's more than he'd ever dared to dream for in life, and just to know that it was all taken away so immediately...

He wasn't there. He'll never be there. But in this moment, he may as well be.

"I'm sorry," he says, voice tight, agony in his anger until he reminds himself that no, it wasn't all taken away. She's still here, and he holds her that much tighter for it as he gets a handle on himself. "I should've been there."

Also curious, Sean notes, that were he to again see the one person he'd felt was on his side the last time everything fell apart with Theresa, he could very well kill him.

Somehow, simply having shared it and hearing those words from Sean lifts a weight from Terry's shoulders she hadn't known she still carried. While she'd had people who offered support and she had her rage at Jamie, she hadn't a single family member to share any of her pain with (and even if she had looked for and found Uncle Tom, she wouldn't have gone down that route).

And, in a way, she knows he understands what it is to lose a child.

"I wish ye'd been there," she says, resting her head against his chest a moment longer. "I missed ye so much."

"I missed ye, too," Sean admits, one of very few times he's allowed himself to do so in the many months (and many years, though it's difficult to count a lot of them) since he last saw her, and it's not even the first time today. "Saints, I cannae believe it, now, after everythin'..."

The place took his wife from him and returned his daughter. Who's now managed to take a little bit more, though he's hardly about to fault anyone for that. Maybe their family truly is cursed, as the elders had always said.

Curse or no, none of it changes how glad he is to be right where he is right now.

"So ye jus' got in, then? Do ye know where ye're stayin' yet?"

Terry shakes her head as she steps away, composing herself again. She feels a little better, and though it's not as though a weight has been lifted, it doesn't feel so heavy at the moment. "I came straight here once I sensed ye. Wasnae payin' much attention to anythin' else."

"Once ye... sensed me. Right," Sean says with a huff. He'd be mad to think nothing would change in her life when his own has always been filled with naught but upheaval, but that one's really going to take some getting used to.

"Well lordie, lass, ye've got some settlin' in t'do. C'mon, I'll give ye a lift over to the train station so ye can get yer package."

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