The Truth About Me


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Scene Title The Truth About Me
Synopsis When Kaylee runs across Joseph packing up for a trip back to Tennessee, she winds up telling the truth about herself to the Pastor, leaving him with a lot to think about.
Date February 26, 2010

Grand Central Terminal

The room to Joseph's door is marginally open, allowing for the echoes of the occasional footstep to slither inside — the usual melody of the underground. While this had once been a den for a very sick man, it's since been cleaned and about as aired out as a room can be, down here. A lamp casts a soft golden shade of illumination for this perpetual nighttime, and there's a small TV set hooked into a DVD player set up in the corner, the screen as dead as a blind man's eye currently. The reception down here is awful, but a box set of Jurassic Park lies used atop the machine, as well as a copy of Dune and The Godfather. Joseph is a reading man when it comes to the long hours, but when the words start to swim on the page and the silence is breaking, nothing wrong with watching raptors chase Lex and Tim through a shining steel kitchen until sleep claims you.

Borrowed items, evidently, because Joseph's belongings are currently littering his bed. There's a suitcase opened, currently half-filled with clothing and a few other items, shoes as well, although he's in the process of slowly and thoughtfully taking some out, a stack of slacks and jeans he holds sandwiched in his hands.

Then back in again.

Frustrated, Joseph scratches fingers through his hair as he stares down at it all as if it were baffling, uncertainty clear to the viewers at home, though the room is otherwise empty. It's the look of a man who is packing for a destination he hasn't decided on yet, for a length of time that remains to be seen. Blue jeans and a blue plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled midway his forearms, scuffed brown shoes on the cement, and hands on his hips.


There is a soft knock on the door to his room, and an equally soft calling of his name by a silhouette beyond the door. The voice would be familiar, belonging to one blonde telepath.

Standing on the other side of the door, Kaylee isn't looking in the room, her eyes are on the floor, listening to the mental murmuring of the man beyond. She doesn't listen in, she always finds the sound comforting no matter who's mind it is. Her world is never quiet really. A cream turtle neck peaks out from under a dark blue cable knit sweater, keeping her warm in the chillier parts of the Terminal. Fingers of one hand are tucked into the back pocket of her jeans, while the other hand drops to rest at her side.

"You — ah — you busy? I could come back later." Kaylee glances to the side as someone passes by her, giving them a small smile, before her eyes glance back to the door.

The mental murmuring might go something like this: …remember if I left a drawer behind or what's in it, I guess I could call— if there's dinner involved might need somethin' better'n jeans and he separates out a pair of navy slacks to flop on top of the stack in the suitcase just in case, and they'll want me to go to church anyhow before those thoughts dim out when Kaylee's voice enters the room and breaks his concentration. "No, come on," he says, reaching to close the fabricy lid of the suitcase lightly over its contents.

There are things still to pack, including an old looking hotel drawer style King James resting on his bedsheets, and a few other books he's probably wondering if they should be in a carry on duffle bag or his suitcase proper ,I can't feasibly read everything anyhow.

"Not busy, just, havin' a hard time thinking." Vague gesture at the mess on his bed. "What can I do for you, Kaylee?"

Pushing the door open enough for her to slip in, the stuff on his bed, grabs her attention right away of course. "Packing? Going somewhere?" She asks curiously, a brow lifting, smile tugging at her lips as she jokes… somewhat. "Tired of us already, huh?"

"I figured I'd check in… glad I did since you seem to be about to leave us for a bit. Out of town I hope?" She realizes a how that sounds and her blue eyes lift to the pastor, a hand raising to stall anything he has to say. "That sounded bad.. Um… I imagine you've heard by now that Danko is in town? He's out and a bout free and clear, spotted him at the Gala."

"Just worried about you, not cause I want you to go or anything." Kaylee gives him a sheepish smile.

"About to is a little strong. Just plannin' ahead for a flight tomorrow afternoon," Joseph confirms, his hand in a fidget edging fingernails along the leather piping on the suitcase lid. Only then is there a glimmer of gold, a somewhat unpolished wedding band visible on the correct finger, if as much a part of him that its absence is starker than its presence, even if he'd been sporting that strip of paled skin on his finger since he'd been rescued.

Lines at his eyes go a little deeper with a smile, a nervous kind of chuckle. "I know Danko's— back, I guess, is the term for it. Didn't know he got outta rehab. He's not— " He shakes his head. "That's not why I'm leavin'. I'm going back home for a while. I just dunno how long for. But I need to resolve some things, that's all."

"Yeah, he's out." Kaylee words soft, her expression thoughtful. She's quiet for a moment, but then she gives her head a shake as if clearing it. "He was assaulting that one girl from the trial, the one that was blind folded, Peyton." She looks a touch concerned, eyes wandering down the the suitcase and noticing the ring. "I didn't stop to help her, she had plenty of people coming to her rescue… I had work to do anyhow." She looks away, hands tucking into her pockets. "Had to repay a favor, for some of the help I got rescuing you…. and Colette."

"So.. Home, huh?" Kaylee moves on, giving him a small smile. "Well, it'll be hopefully be good for you. Personally, I'm staying far away from home for while." Giving a short chuckle, she looks down at the floor between them.

"I.. hope things work out the way you'd like though." Long fingers, move to tuck her hair behind her ear, when it slides into her face. "After everything you've been through you deserve something good to happen." Her head lifts a little as she looks up at him again, trying to look amused rather then sad, as she asks. "If you don't come back does that mean thing went well?"
Joseph has partially disconnected.

Repay a favour doesn't get questions. No protests, nor concerns. It gets a glance, is what it gets, and then the opposite of one as Joseph moves to pick up the King James, absently bending its already curled pages in his hands as he stares down at the suitcase as if maybe it held the answer for everything. Why do men like Danko run free and why do girls like Kaylee make bargains for men like him and why little girls get hurt because he didn't listen to other little girls and how much carry-on luggage is meant to weigh.

"In theory," he says, with a quick kind of smile. "If things go great, it means I do come back. Means it's possible to have the best of both worlds, or that only havin' one of 'em is okay. But we'll see."

Flump, goes the Bible once he lifts the lid of the suitcase and places it inside. "At this point, there's no easy answer. Good things don't just happen, not without some bad. But I've been— on hold for so long, that I'll welcome whatever it is, I think."

The young telepath could easily answer the question of why, if she had the courage, but well.. it's her secret… And if things go well for him, for a long time to come. "Well, good." She says softly, giving a short nods of her head. "You'd be missed if you went away for good. Who else would I talk to? Deckard? Eric?" Grinning, she gives him a matter of fact look along with it. "Either way I wish you luck with it."

"Like I said.. I personally plan to avoid it till my mother actually gives me some straight answers." Any of her humor, fade away somewhat, a foot scuffing on the floor as she lets eyes drop to the floor again. "She totally and completely lied to me about my father." Her head tilts a bit as she glances at Joseph out of the corner of her eye. "And won't even talk to me about it." She grimaces, glancing down again.

He resumes packing midway, steadily letting the items on the bed become less as they fill brown and black leather, and Joseph starts to speak like maybe he would respond to her rhetorical question, but allows it to go by instead with a fleetingly polite, shared smile, tucking books into the edges. Joseph packs without particular skill, but fits things together like an awkward puzzle all the same — not much of a traveler.

"Lied to you about your father?" he echoes, with a glance her way, one that misses the one she spares him, which has him hesitating.

"Yeah," The words are soft, she moves to leans against a wall, finally looking up. "Big time. The tall tale I was told…." She takes a deep breath and begins, the words bitter. ".. was that Ray was this hot shot lawyer my mom had worked for here in New York. Married hot shot lawyer, that she fell in love with and…. well… hand an affair and…" Hands come out of her pockets and spread to each side of her, with a tight lipped smile. " I am."

"He pushed us away, called my mom a whore and told her he didn't want anything to do with me. Never saw him… never talked to him.. So who was I to argue." Her shoulders lift in a small shrug as she says simply. "Lies… all of it. I've spent all these years thinking my father was a deadbeat bastard."

"I take it that's somethin' he ain't?" Joseph shifts, now, to lean a hand against the chair by the bed, resting his weight on creaking wood — he'd sit down on it or offer her a seat, but it's stacked with whatever amount of personal belongings he's claimed down here throughout the past few months, in the same way his bed is overcrowded. Black eyes flash some sympathy, and he makes a gesture that reads something like never mind.

It's not my business. The thought sort of echoes on the fringes of it, not actively projecting, but there. "It's worse when family lies. You think that maybe that's not the point of it, like what sort of mother lies to her daughter? Siblings, children. Same thing. So when it comes up, it's appalling, because it ain't meant to work that way. It does, though, especially among families. You lie to protect each other, and what they think of you. Because it's more important than anythin'.

"If you do want to talk to your mom about it, don't ask about your dad, ask about why she lied. Make it seem like the truth is okay again."

"Not at all." He gets the answer anyway. "I wasn't even born in New York. Boston…" Kaylee grouses, glancing up at him as he sits, a small smile touching her lips at what he says, thought it doesn't reach her eyes. "I dunno… maybe. I.. think part of it was cause he told my mother once I was dangerous and would hurt someone." There is a short humorless laugh and she shrugs. "And he was right… except I was a teenager when it happened." Studying Joseph, Kaylee finally sighs. "Yeah. I guess your right. And that's basically what I want her to tell me. Besides, I'm learning about him through others anyhow… seems he was actually a MIT professor that was — well — not a precog like you… a.. predictor and helped Pheonix and the Ferry."

"Course, so far what I've been told doesn't paint my father in the best light." There is a roll of her eyes before she smiles softly over at the pastor, fingers lift to rub against her forehead. "Father like daughter I guess. Not very good people." But she waves that comment away and continues, "But… also means he didn't die in Midtown and he let me think it. Now.. I don't know if he's alive or dead, though sounds like he could be either."

Waved away or not, Kaylee gets— well. To say that Joseph rolls his eyes might be a little strong. Certainly no movement involved. Just a flat kind of look, as if the notion is wearying, taking his weight off the chair to resume packing. "Maybe it's a blessing in disguise," he offers, shoving the remains of clothing into the suitcase, hefting it up to stand on its side as he zips it with sharp, metallic rip noises. "You won't know 'til you know, I guess. One of those things.

"Listen." Because it's nagging at him, now, and he sets his hands against the suitcase before looking at her, sort of a challenge. "You know bad people. I know bad people. I've been tortured by a few, they've hurt my friends, and I think even a couple of my friends in this city qualify as bad people. You are not, and I ain't gonna say it again. Unless you are, in which case, maybe you should start tellin' me what it is that makes you so awful. You told me you ran with this Adam guy, and I don't buy it."

He shrugs, loosely, as if already tired of what he has to say. "And you don't have to tell me, either. I don't mind — I got plenty I ain't gonna be telling anyone any time soon, myself, but you can't come to me about good and bad and make these lil' comments anymore if so."

There is a grimace and Kaylee glances away, her cheeks coloring slightly at what he says. "Sorry, Joseph." Her voice is soft, for the moment she's unable to look at him. "I should tell you, get it all off my chest, cause it's much more then Adam…" She sighs softly, but her head slowly shakes, "…but I don't want you to think the worse of me. Even though I make the comments, what you think of me — and there are very few people I think like that about " matters."

Both hands lift to rub over her face, "Fine.. " Kaylee says firmly. " You deserve to know… so want to know what makes me so bad? I've killed people.. done it and smiled while doing it. Enjoyed sinking my ability into their minds and manipulate them. " Hands lift, fingers curling into fists as if curling them around something, her eyes seem to go shimmer with tears, as if it kind of hurts her to admit to him. "I've used my ability to make men want me, in fact, till recently that's how I kept from being lonely. Used it again to make them go away after." She pushes off the wall and paces away a bit, as if she'd leave but she turns back.

"I'm trying not to be, Joseph." Kaylee says softly, after a long moment of silence. "But.. I am. There is darkness in my soul. I know it's there, I've had to embrace it, acknowledge it." She gives a bit of a choked laugh. "I don't know… Sometimes I wonder if I'd still be the same person if I never ended up a telepath."

Finally, she forces herself to look at Joseph, giving him a watery smile. "That's me.. judge me as you want… but you deserved to hear the truth about me, tired of hiding it."

He nods, once, as silent for the next few seconds as he was while he was listening, black eyed gaze wandering on down towards the stretch of floor between them. There's dismay, there, that much is clear, but no anger or shock, a slow settling of confirmation like an extra weight being set on a scale. "I'm not gonna judge you," Joseph states, finally. "'cause— I've forgiven murderers before. A woman who told me she shot her father to death because he raped both her and her sister. A man who killed for profit. Even Danko, I led the vote to let him walk, even if it would be in chains, or— so we figured."

Turning from her, Joseph fidgets a little with the securing straps of the suitcase. "And I probably shouldn't be quick to do it again," he says, with apology. "So— gimme some time to think on it. And if I don't come back, it won't matter, right?

"Thanks for telling me," he adds, after a beat.

"Like I said… you deserve to know the truth." Kaylee voice sounds strained, as if it's hard for her to talk. Studying his back, for a moment, something crosses her features and she opens to mouth to say something, but stops herself. He can hear the sound of her boots on the floor as she she turns back to the door, opening it intending on going through it she stops, glancing back again.

"I will admit…." She starts slowly, her words measured. "… that since I've met you, Pastor Sumter, that I've found the strength to fight what I am." She glances outside the door, moving to take a step out of the door, "Even in my nightmares, when the Nightmare Man tried to get me do, what I've done to countless of men, to a dream version of you…. I fought him. Nightly, until I was saved from him." Even though the words are almost a whisper the words have a fierceness to them. "You've been a good influence on me. No matter how you judge me."

"Have a good trip, hmm?" She starts to shut the door behind her, pausing to add. "Good luck while your home, I still hope you get what you want from the trip. And… stay safe. The world needs all the good men it can keep. There is too few of them." The door shuts with a soft click and once it does, Kaylee lets out a heavy sigh, eyes shutting against a small twist of pain in her stomach, before she lets her hand slides off the handle so that she can leave.

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