The Dangling Conversation

[Cobalt Weaver]

“Oh, quit that.” Cobalt snapped, turning to face him, “I’m not going to argue semantics and split hairs with you. That’s not the point and you know it.” To know that this was how Sean operated at Hammel would not have made one stitch of difference to Cobalt. Because this wasn’t Hammel. And unlike Sean, Hammel didn’t run Cobalt’s life. In Cobalt’s mind, Hammel Institute was a school, not a lifestyle choice. And he would have no patience for it here, especially as it interrupted or otherwise disrupted his own life.

“No, see, here’s the thing.” Cobalt said, shaking his head and holding up a hand as Sean started to explain, “I do believe that you didn’t wanna upset me. Which was stupid, because I can’t imagine how you thought that sending me things in the mail without even granting me the courtesy of explaining things face to face would do anything but upset me, I do genuinely believe that you only meant to help.”

“But herein we encounter a problem.” Cobalt stared dangerously over the top of his glasses, “I don’t ever recall having asked you for help, nor have I ever expressed or demonstrated my issues—and I freely admit that I have things that I need to work on and they’re not altogether healthy—in a social setting, wherein they become other people’s problems.” He added this with the understanding that the ill-fated intervention would come up, and he had an answer for it, should the conversation make that turn.

“The point I’m trying to make is that you had little to no right intruding on my personal life in that manner. I don’t care what you were trying to do or what you hoped to accomplish. We barely knew each other. You made assumptions about me that was neither accurate nor any of your business, and without my asking your opinion. And I am really at a loss for what you wanted to achieve anyways.” Cobalt shot Sean another scathing look, “Just… you’re so damn nosy.”

[Dr. Sean Neville]

The telepath sat there silently as the other man went off on his rant, not making an attempt to interject. He would let Cobalt get it all out of his system without comment. That was, after all, what he was trained to do. He suffered through the glares, he suffered through the implied and explicit insults, and he suffered through the other man raising his voice. All the while, the telepath’s expression didn’t change. He simply watched him over his fingers, formed in a steeple while he listened.

Months later and the other man still didn’t understand what the problem with the intervention was. Not that Sean was surprised, given what had transpired, the assumptions everyone had made, and the way it had ended. To him, it had been an inconvenience. To Josh, it had been far worse, and that had resulted in the silent treatment. At a time when Sean had needed him most. And his closest friend had been confronted with accusations from outsiders, had needed to publicly take responsibility for something that was long past because of misplaced accusations, and it had caused him pain. Which had caused Sean pain. But that was what love was. And he didn’t want to get into that now because he was sure the other man wasn’t interested.

Only when the younger man had finished his rant did the telepath speak. “Are you interested in responses to any of that? Or did you just want the catharsis?” His tone held no malice, no sarcasm. It was a genuine question.

[Cobalt Weaver]

Cobalt thought that, all in all, he was being fairly reasonable about this whole thing. He was a private person, and he had been meticulous about making it perfectly clear that he wanted this respected. Having someone invade his carefully constructed privacy had been uncomfortable and disconcerting. There was one person that Cobalt would have accepted such a breach of his personal life, and she wouldn’t have ever done that. Sean had overstepped his boundaries, and Cobalt was letting him know that this was unacceptable.

However, when he noted Sean’s blank, distantly and benignly analytical face, Cobalt should have known that the other man wouldn’t be anything but frustrating about this.

The older man’s question, however, stopped him cold for a moment. He stared at Sean, disbelieving for a moment, before getting true and genuinely angry. “No,” He snapped, sarcasm dripping from his words, “No, I just like mindlessly yelling at people without any hope or expectation of resolution or conversation.” His hands were clenched into fists and he really would have liked to punch Sean right in the face. However, he wasn’t quite so angry that he didn’t realize that this was probably an overreaction. That, and he promised Elaine that he would try to be nice to Sean. And he didn’t relish having to explain all that to Morgan. Cobalt ran an aggravated hand through his hair, letting out an explosive sigh, “Yes Sean. I really would rather prefer a response to the number of grievances that I have listed. Because contrary to what you apparently believe, I am interested in coming to some manner of understanding.” Not friendship, not agreement, but understanding.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

The telepath suspected that there was a grain of truth in the other man’s sarcastic explosion; Cobalt struck him as the type of person who enjoyed confrontation, which was undoubtedly what made him enjoy being a lawyer. The same way that Josh loved to rant at people and was why he liked his job. Sean didn’t like conflict, which was why his job was one of conflict resolution and gentle discussion. He glanced down at the other man’s fist, because he heard the thought, and while he wouldn’t respond in kind, he didn’t want to have to get into it with Josh about why he had a black eye. Fortunately, this didn’t turn physical.

“Given your reaction when I tried to clear the air after Josh’s assault, I don’t think that my belief that you weren’t particularly interested in face-to-face conversation was unreasonable, even if it was incorrect.” He was quite willing to accept responsibility for the fact that this had ended poorly. “As for the rest of it...” the telepath spread his hands, turning the palms upward as he met the other man’s eyes. He wasn’t angry. “We still barely know one another, and you won’t like what I have to say regarding my reasons or my goals. But I can promise you that it won’t happen again.” He could guarantee that on both counts.

[Cobalt Weaver]

Sean’s assessment regarding Josh’s assault was fair. But the older man’s unwillingness to give him actual, workable answers was unspeakably frustrating. “Fair enough. However, I think we can both agree that neither of us were at our best at that moment.” Cobalt was willing to admit that he had been harsh. But that was as close an apology as Sean was going to get, as Cobalt still felt a little justified.

Cobalt made a frustrated noise, “You don’t make any damn sense. You go nosing around my business, without my consent, intruding on my privacy, and yet, you don’t want to talk about why. All I want to understand is why you did this.” Cobalt made a helpless gesture, “What were you hoping to achieve?” He was, to be honest, a little curious as to what Sean thought would be so offensive that he didn’t want to tell Cobalt. “It’s not that big of a deal, Sean.” Cobalt gave him an exasperated look, “I’m a grown-up. I can handle whatever it is you don’t want to say.”

[Dr. Sean Neville]

The telepath was well-aware that neither of them had been at their best in the immediate aftermath of Josh’s attack, and he didn’t fault the other man for it, just as he didn’t want to be judged by his conduct for all time. It was difficult to set him off, but seeing Josh that way and the accusations that his loyalty lay anywhere else had grated him. That was why he had apologized and sought the other man out to make amends later, and it was that discomfort, the way Cobalt had behaved during that coffee break in his van, which had led Sean to believe that the younger man didn’t appreciate face-to-face conversations that weren’t combative, at least ones where the telepath was a party. Thus he’d defaulted to his usual method of operation in this realm. But he didn’t focus on those specifics, since Cobalt had asked him his motivations; in fact, was insisting on learning his motivations, not merely his reasoning.

Sean tented his fingers again and leaned forward slightly, resting his chin atop his fingertips. Finally, he replied, “You’re painful to be around.” He didn’t mean that in an insulting manner, although he was aware of how it sounded; that was why he had categorized it as something that the other man wouldn’t like to hear.

The other man had mentioned that according to his morals, if another person was involved or made aware of a problem, then such conduct was acceptable. The telepath realized that there was a personal responsibility argument implied in there, but he dismissed that because the world was more complicated than that. He clarified, “I see everything that hurts inside you; I'm confronted by it all when I'm near you, and that’s why I did it.”

[Cobalt Weaver]

Sean’s explanation was… something that Cobalt has suspected, if he were being honest with himself. He was aware of the possibility, but hadn’t taken it into consideration with Sean, mistakenly believing that the older man would have learnt how to “turn it off”, as it were. But that was probably an unfair assessment; different powers manifested differently. Just because one telepath had the ability to turn off his power completely didn’t mean every other telepath could—or would—do the same. The attorney fiddled with the hem of his jacket, considering for a moment.

“When I was eleven,” Cobalt began, the anger more or less gone from his voice, leaving it quiet and even, “Probably a few months after I started going to Hammel… I don’t know if they do this anymore, but we used to power train in groups for the most part. Especially the younger kids. I was in a group with this little empath girl. Now that I think on it, she was probably older than me, but she was tiny, you know? Really fragile looking.” Cobalt paused, looking at the wall, “I can’t remember her name anymore. But anyway, she was working on something to do with her mental shields. I dunno, but eventually she got tired, and stumbled over, like she was gonna fall. So…” Cobalt shrugged, still staring out into middle distance, “So I reached out and grabbed her hand.” He shot Sean a wry look, “As you can imagine, it didn’t go very well.”

“The point I’m trying to make here,” Cobalt finally pulled his eyes to look up at Sean, his gaze hardening slightly, “Is that I figured there might be problems with that. Aside from you annoying the hell out of me, there was a legitimate reason why I didn’t seek out your company.” His brow furrowed sternly, “And while I do regret that you are inconvenienced whenever you’re in my presence on a telepathic level, you had to know that the route you took wouldn’t make anything better.” Cobalt pushed his glasses up, “While I’m sure it was a little funny, it didn’t make a difference. And I don’t want your help, however much it is a chore to be around me.”

[Dr. Sean Neville]

The telepath wasn’t fishing for sympathy, nor an apology or any changes on Cobalt’s part since this was simply a fact of life. Sean was an extremely gifted psychic, the top at Hammel; but he’d come into his powers too early, and he would always be sensitive. Even blocking out everything, he would still know. He lived with it, and he rarely spoke of it. If Cobalt hadn’t insisted, he wouldn’t have mentioned it even now.

He had great sympathy for empaths. Like Ann, who were robbed of the pleasures of adolescence because of their powers and the adolescence of others. He had been there, once. Because Cobalt had shared a personal story, one that did touch on what they were discussing, the telepath chose to repay the favor so that the other man didn’t think that this was a one-way street. “When I was twelve, my father took me to a baseball game, after my powers manifested but before anyone caught on. I was asymptomatic for a while.” Not quite asymptomatic, but his second power had created the effect. “I don’t know how many people were there, but it had to be tens of thousands. I didn’t make it past the second inning.” More than forty years later, he still recalled how stifling it was, and why Hammel had been a blessing for him. He remembered the cool tile beneath his skin as he lay in a ball in the men’s room. “I couldn’t go back to a baseball game until after I graduated from Hammel.”

It hadn’t been a joke. Those weren’t the types of jokes that Sean played, and he’d explained his motivations already. “It wasn’t funny in the slightest.” Funny was the Bear Pride shirt that Josh had bought him for his fortieth birthday. Funny was George Carlin’s live performances back when he’d still been alive. Funny was reruns of M*A*S*H and novels by Kurt Vonnegut. This had been unsuccessful – not that he’d expected a high rate of success, but he’d hoped for a possibility –and perhaps ill-advised given the target audience. “And I’ve apologized for it, promised not to do it again, and given you an explanation for why I did it in the first place. There’s nothing else you need worry about.” The psychiatrist understood the point that Cobalt was making; he understood the point after the intervention when the other man had used it as a tally mark to legitimize his actions. Also, considering his track record, which had several successes from the same course of action, he didn’t have to know; it had been an attempt, that was all. “We’ll find a way to continue to deal with having the same social circle.”

[Cobalt Weaver]

Cobalt felt a little awkward, now. He didn’t talk about his time at Hammel, as a general rule. It wasn’t spectacularly horrible, but it was a time that Cobalt didn’t necessarily like re-visiting. He wasn’t very graceful as a child, whether by mannerisms or physicality. He had just been a small, angry, ugly child who didn’t know how to talk to people. And while he only meant for the anecdote to prove the point that when he said he understood, he actually understood why Sean didn’t like being around him, he did appreciate Sean not making a deal about this piece of Cobalt’s past. He was, however, surprised when Sean returned the favor, and revealed a moment when Sean was a child. While Cobalt knew that Sean probably didn’t have many qualms about sharing things about his past, the older man certainly didn’t owe him any of this. So he extended Sean the same courtesy the telepath showed him: he listened.

After Sean finished his story, Cobalt was quiet for a while. Finally, he sighed, “My powers didn’t manifest anything like that. People…” Cobalt huffed out a laugh, “People just thought I was kind of weird. It took a routine blood test to figure out I was actually meta.” He contemplated how much he wanted to elaborate, since now he was entering areas of his life he hadn’t really discussed with anyone. Finally, he settled on, “It made the transition a little difficult.”

Cobalt bristled a little bit at the brisk and firmly concluding tone, but ultimately decided that his points had been made and he had gotten what he wanted: an apology and explanation. Far more than he’d been expecting. “Fair enough.” Cobalt nodded, “And I guess we can just continue as before. There’s no real need to have a dialogue with me any more than strictly necessary anyways.” Which was true; they’d gotten on perfectly well ignoring each other in social situations before, there was no reason they couldn’t continue that.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean’s time at Hammel had also been uncomfortable in many ways. That was a trait that he and the younger man shared. However, their reasons were different in just as many ways: while Cobalt had been small and angry, Sean as a young telepath had been tall, lanky, and uncomfortable in his own skin. He’d shied from everyone else, reacting to their uncomfortable perceptions of him, and as a result, he’d clung all the more to his trainer. But for Robert, his early years at Hammel weren’t particularly fond, but they were necessary, and he owed the school for that, for giving him an education and keeping him afloat when he thought he might otherwise drown. He spoke openly of his time at Hammel, but he always held back certain parts because he had largely moved beyond who he was then.

As difficult as his first couple of years at Hammel had been, they paled when compared to the months between his powers emerging and his enrollment at school. That time had etched part of his personality in stone, at that young age, and he didn’t look back on that time with any fondness. Even if he spoke of that period of his life when necessary to make points or to let students know that they weren’t alone, that he understood.

The blood test was the surefire confirmation method, and Sean had met many who had received their news solely from that. He hadn’t been one of them, even if he’d required one just to be certain. That he wasn’t schizophrenic. “I’m sure it did.” There was nothing patronizing in his tone; it wasn’t his psychiatrist voice, either; merely the tone of a man who understood and wanted to convey that. “Mine wasn’t that easy either; although it helped that I came from Catholic school. The rigid structure made it easier to accept than if I’d gone to public school, I think.” He still remembered wearing his uniform to his first day at Hammel and sticking out like a sore thumb.

The telepath acknowledged that with a nod. He didn’t dislike the other man, nor did he find him irritating the way that Cobalt found him so. That was a difference in their personalities. And since their social circles were merging with alarming speed, he considered politely ignoring to be an imperfect, and impractical in the long-term, solution, But that could always change; he was nothing if not patient.

[Cobalt Weaver]

Cobalt was pretty sure that “share your past” hour had come to a close. In fact, Cobalt would have considered the entire argument closed and done with, sending them both to their respective corners. After all, Cobalt had gotten what he wanted. He’d gotten Sean to admit that he had acted inappropriately, they had fleshed out why this had happened, and had reached some manner of accord. In Cobalt’s book, that was game over, insert coin. It also crossed his mind that he had just shared things he wouldn’t otherwise with a man he didn’t even like. At all. That was weird, and he wasn’t quite sure how he felt about this. So it was probably best to disengage.

But at Sean’s admission that he went to a Catholic school before Hammel, Cobalt had to bark out a laugh. Oh, why was he finding similarities with this person he didn’t like? This was borderline uncomfortable. “I didn’t know you were Catholic.” He said by way of explanation, looking a little exasperated, “Me too. Catholic school ‘til Hammel as well. Er. Kind of.” He shifted awkwardly, “Catholic orphanage, but same difference, really.” He didn’t say that that made everything difficult as well. There was no need for that kind of talk. “I bet you were an alter boy too?” Cobalt had been, and why not assume that he and Sean were somehow the same person. Goddammit.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

The telepath didn’t make a secret of his former religious affiliation, but this only underscored how little they’d conversed. Nodding in affirmation, he said,“For half my life.” He was an American of Irish descent from New York named Sean Patrick Neville. It was expected that he had been raised Catholic, particularly since there hadn’t been the same level of heavy immigration from the Protestant portions of Ireland. His middle name was an allusion to Saint Patrick, and his mother had been named after the Virgin Mary. When he was younger, there couldn’t have been a more devout Catholic school boy than him. But then, he’d grown up, he’d seen more than he ever thought possible as a boy, and his faith had eroded. “I haven’t been one for a long time.” He had strong opinions on that topic.

Sean didn’t pursue any questions about life in the orphanage for Cobalt, because he was sure other man wasn’t interested in discussing it, and it wasn’t the telepath’s business. It explained much but that was an aside. He then chuckled at the question. While Cobalt might be irritated to find that they had common ground, the telepath was 1) already aware of some of it and 2) amused. This only served as a reminder of the fact that, while everyone was unique, they also all had more in common than often expected. “Up until I left for Hammel. My parents used to make a production of it.” Far more than he had. While he had been honored, his parents had been proud.

[Cobalt Weaver]

Cobalt shot Sean a wry look when the older man explained his religious affiliations. “Yeah. Same.” Cobalt recognized the It’s-Complicated tone of Sean’s voice from many, many years of experience with the sentiment. “It made a lot more sense when I was younger.” At least, that had been the case for Cobalt. The Church had provided him with a community, a stand-in family to a young boy who wanted to belong to something. Christianity’s deep history appealed to his desire to learn and to dig about in the past and its message of love was an object of comfort for a lonely little boy. Of course, he had gotten older, things had changed and something had gotten lost along the way.

At Sean’s affirmation of his suspicions, Cobalt nodded, a smirk on his face, “Sounds about right. Did your Church…?” Cobalt squinted, trying to remember everything correct, “At my Church, they’d have three alter boys, and the middle one got to carry this big damn cross up to the alter. And I always wanted to be the cross bearer but they wouldn’t let me because I was too short.” He chuckled at the memory, “Which was probably wise, now that I think on it.” He had been a rather tiny child.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

The situation had started simply enough, although it had been a confusing mess at the time. It was hard to adhere to any religion that taught homosexuality was a ticket straight to Hell, along with everyone who wasn’t Catholic. Particularly when he’d fallen in love with a Jewish man. Then everything had simplified remarkably until his family found out and decades later, he wasn’t speaking to his sister partially because she condemned his “sinful lifestyle.”

But decades ago, as a boy, he had loved going to mass. He’d quoted scripture, he’d taken communion, he’d confessed to his sins, and he’d prayed every day. He’d been the poster boy for suburban Catholicism. “It has a way of losing is splendor when the world gets more complicated,” the telepath agreed.

Sean confirmed the other man’s inquiry with a nod and small smile of his own. “We had that. I got to carry it a few times.” He’d had quick growth spurts, resulting in him being big enough to carry it, when there wasn’t an older boy, and it was deemed appropriate. “We also had to carry the bible for the priest to read from, which I also did sometimes.” In retrospect, he’d realized that the altar boys charged with that task were effectively used as podiums. “What did you usually get to do?” He used get because it had been a privilege at the time, even if he didn't think so now.

[Cobalt Weaver]

As it turned out, Cobalt and Sean’s experiences with religion rose and fell for much of the same reasons. So perhaps it was just as well that Sean didn’t voice the majority of his reasons; Cobalt was already feeling a little disconcerted over their similarities. All the same, at Sean’s comment, Cobalt nodded wryly, “Yup. That it does.”

“Heh. Nice.” Cobalt nodded, a barely present grin on his face, “Yeah, we took turns carrying the book. I usually got to do the incense thing, on special holidays.” The grin grew a little wider, “But that’s probably because I was the only one who wanted to hold that damn thing. I almost passed out every time.” In a weird distant way, he almost missed it. Not the actual alter serving, but the feeling of stability and community he used to get from his faith. Now, he didn’t gain any of its comfort, but plenty of its angst and he still couldn’t even discard it altogether. It was an all around irritating situation.

But another, more troubling thought occurred to him. That he’d been sitting in this room, in an incredibly ludicrous situation with Sean, the person who was pretty much the most annoying person in his company, and they’d been having a polite conversation. That in and of itself wasn’t so bad, but Cobalt felt the need to make things clear. “Just to clarify,” He said, his voice candid and free of vitriol, “While it’s nice to know that I can have a conversation with you without wanting to kill you, this doesn’t change a whole lot.” Cobalt adjusted his glasses, “I still don’t like you. And it’s not because of what happened with Josh, or anything like that. You just annoy me.” He shrugged, indicating that he meant no real offense, but didn’t quite care if he did, “Personalities don’t mesh or something but anyways. I try to be honest about this kind of thing so there’s no confusion. I’m willing to be polite and relatively courteous to you on behalf of our mutual friends. But still.” And this time, Cobalt wasn’t actually being rude. But it was the truth and he felt Sean should know. Whatever Cobalt’s personal feelings for the man, he did respect Sean as one professional to another, so Sean deserved the courtesy of honesty.