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Title: Finding Hope
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Alpha Flight Marvel Comics
Pairing: Walter/Jean-Paul though there are some kisses it’s ultimately UST. Mentions Walter/Jeanne-Marie, Walter/Veronica (his canon ex-wife)
Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with these characters. Neither is my toy box and I’m merely playing.
Summary: AU Wanda started as Walter, died and came back as Wanda. Now she's stuck as Walter again and she's no longer comfortable living a lie. Jean-Paul comforts.
A/N: AU because JP and JM weren’t really around when Walter changed back…there was this whole stupid dying/elf drama that would’ve interfered. References to Machine Man 11 and the four part Northstar series as well as Walter being turned into Wanda and then back to Walter (Alpha Flight series one #45 to 68). Pronoun change in this chapter. Originally written for the lbgtfest on lj.
Chapter 2:
Walter dropped down into the seat at his vanity and frowned at the reflection that stared back at him. He dropped the card Heather had given him onto the vanity and then ran his hands over the white polished wood. The emptiness of it struck him and he turned from the mirror to take in the expanse of it before him.
When he’d turned back into Walter he’d packed up the contents, but hadn’t been able to part with the vanity itself. It’d been a birthday present from Puck, Heather and Jean-Paul. His gaze was drawn to the closet where he had many of the remnants of his time as Wanda pushed to the back.
When he’d turned into Wanda he’d easily gotten rid of all the belongs that were Walter and thrown himself into being a women. There had been a few moments where he’d had questions, but for the most part the transformation had been startling easy. The only thing he’d found himself questioning was his sexuality. While he had loved Jeanne-Marie and was attracted to her he’d found himself, for the first time, regarding men with more than a passing thought. Jeanne-Marie had rejected him and he’d slipped into flirting with the one man on the team who couldn’t reciprocate. Still, for the first time in his life he’d felt comfortable in his own skin.
He picked up the new Alpha Flight card Heather had given him. He ran his thumb over the name, Wanda Langowski. He stared down at the photo, which was clearly Walter, clearly him. He suddenly wished he’d believed his conversation with Jean-Paul the night before. Knowing that one of his teammates understood him had helped him find sleep, had given him the hope that in the morning he’d find a solution.
Maybe Jean-Paul was right, perhaps there was no easy fix? Instead of trying to invent a machine to transform himself maybe he needed to study his options as a transsexual.
Transsexual, the word finally settled in his mind. The word had played at him, a label that made him realize he wasn’t alone.
He.
Walter frown, ran his thumb over the name, the identity he missed with everything inside of him, the one he wanted.
Wanda.
The name was there, under his-her thumb. She was there, within reach. She just had to be brave enough to endure the journey instead of looking for a quick fix.
How miserable and isolated had she made herself by only seeing Walter when she thought of herself? She hadn’t been Walter since she’d crawled out of her own grave in Snowbird’s body. Why then was she trying to be Walter? Just because her body had betrayed her and turned back her back into a man, that didn’t mean she was a man, didn’t mean she had to force herself to live as a man.
Her physical body might not agree yet, but she was still Wanda, was always going to be Wanda.
The last time she’d desired a quick change her experiment had failed. She’d wanted to find a way to recreate what had happened to Bruce Banner, to become another Hulk. Instead she’d become Sasquatch. She loved being Sasquatch, it was a good if unexpected outcome, but she wasn’t what she’d first set out to be. Then when she’d given Jeanne-Marie what she’d wanted, changed her, it had started the events that had nearly killed both twins. It couldn’t hurt to explore the options to fix her body that were already available, except for the part where she’d have to admit to Jean-Paul that he’d been right. She could do that, she’d even find a way to tease him about it.
Wanda smiled, then took in her vanity. This too could be fixed. She looked into the mirror again and for the first time she didn’t see the identity she was forcing herself into. Instead she saw the potential, who she could become. She might have pushed her body to maintain the bulk of the American football player she’d almost given up science to become, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t find a new exercise and nutrition plan that would help her slim herself.
“I have a present for you,” Jean-Paul informed her from the doorway.
She turned, taking him in before stating the obvious, “You’re drunk.”
Jean-Paul only ever had that easy smile on his face when he was drunk.
“Am I?”
Wanda shook her head and smiled, “You surround yourself with twinkling lights when you’re drunk.”
“Are you saying I have better control over my powers when I’m drunk?”
Wanda rolled her eyes, “I’m saying you have less.”
If he hadn’t been drunk she’d have gotten a scathing comment, instead Jean-Paul laughed, crossed the room and settled a wig onto her head. Wanda blink, stared at her reflection. She suddenly had her hair back, looking as it had before the change back into a male body. She reached up to touch it, let the hair twine around her fingers as she took in her reflection. She couldn’t help but smile.
“You don’t have to keep it, but I figured start with what you’re familiar with,” Jean-Paul told her as he leaned against her, “You could play around, get different colors, different styles.”
She leaned her head back to smile at him, “Maybe I’ll grow out my hair.”
“I’d like that,” he smiled back, “You look different, more relaxed.”
“I feel more relaxed,” she realized, “I hadn’t realized what I was doing to myself."
“Taking my advice or did you find something new?”
“Your advice,” she admitted. She waited for the preening, but it never came. Instead he closed the distance between them, placed a brief kiss on her forehead. Their eyes met, she twisted towards him just that bit more and their lips met in a heated press of tongues, want and missed opportunities.
She wanted his, with him, but even as she lost herself in the feel of his lips on hers she couldn’t help but think they were treading a dangerous path. She pulled back, “What are we doing?”
Jean-Paul perched on the bench beside her and moved to kiss her again, “I thought it was obvious.”
Wanda put her hands on his chest and shook her head, “Aren’t you encouraging me to be myself and isn’t being myself someone you can’t want?”
Jean-Paul blinked, then frowned, then shook his head slowly, “I may be too drunk for this conversation.”
“And yet your still able to make sense,” she teased, “Go to bed.”
“Don’t want to,” he said before capturing her lips again. She got lost in the feel of his hands cupping her face, his lips, his tongue in her mouth.
Her eyes widened and she pulled away, “Jean-Paul.”
“Want you,” he slurred, moving in again.
“You didn’t the last time,” she reminded.
He stilled in a way she wasn’t used to, no movement at all as he stared at her.
“Jean-Paul, you need to go to bed,” she tried, hoping to break the sudden tension.
He wet his lips and closed his eyes tightly, “I always wanted you, but then I was talking to you and seeing Anne. I missed her too. I…I thought you were only interested in me because you were looking to replace my sister and…”
Wanda shook her head. He’d said that before, but it hadn’t completely solidified in her head until now, “That’s not…I didn’t…”
“I know, you said.”
Wanda closed her eyes and wet her lips, “You need to go to bed.”
He needed to do so soon, before she gave in and started kissing him again, started moving willingly towards this unspoken thing between them, towards a relationship she was sure could only end in disaster.
“Don’t want to be alone.”
His voice, he sounded so raw. She pressed her lips quickly to his then impulsively told him, “Then go get ready for bed.”
Jean-Paul smirked and she fixed him with a glare, ready to threaten that she’d take back her offer.
“You’re sleeping it off,” she finished.
“With you makes it better,” Jean-Paul smiled and if that didn’t make her heart beat just that little bit faster than she didn’t know what would. His lips touched hers briefly again and yes, it made her breath catch and her heart speed up again. Then he was gone and Wanda was left to shake her head.
“I should’ve specified no powers,” she told herself before looking in the mirror and adjusting the wig. She took in the color and missed her own blonde hair. Jean-Paul was right, the color was very Anne. Wanda sighed, “Blonde. I’m so very very blonde.”
She crossed to her closet, dug in the back until her hands closed around the box she’d stored several of her vanity items in. Her eyes lingered on her male clothes and the thought of staying up all night with garbage back and rearranging played at her. She put the box on her vanity and crossed back to her closet. She dumped the guy clothes on her bed and dragged the female clothes she’d buried towards the front.
“These trash?” Jean-Paul asked as he came back into the room where pajama pants and white t-shirt.
“Not yet,” Wanda frowned, “I don’t know what I have that’ll fit. Most of these clothes fit the Wanda I was before and that’s not who I am now, not physically. I bought a few things before I realized how much proportionally smaller I was.”
Wanda blinked at the woosh of air and then her male clothes were suddenly being placed in the back of the closet.
“Bed?” Jean-Paul asked, a hopeful lit to his voice.
“So drunk,” she teased before she kissed him briefly, “Go, get in. I’ll be there in a moment.”
Jean-Paul cupped her face, leaned in as though to kiss her and then smiled, “Give you one when you join me.”
She watched silently as he strutted over to her bed and slide under the covers. So drunk she told herself with a silent laugh before she turned back to her closet. She smiled as she found the green silky nightgown that had been one of her first purchases when she’d first turned into a women. It hadn’t fit, she’d still been thinking about being Walter-sized, but now…now she was hoping that it would work.
She glanced towards where Jean-Paul was watching her, smirked at him and disappeared into her bathroom ignoring his protest. There was no way she was getting naked in front of him, not yet, not when her body was so decidedly male…though Jean-Paul would like that. She felt doubt run through her again. They would need to talk when Jean-Paul was sober, but until then she was going to enjoy his company, his warmth, his want and his friendship.
She changed quickly, tried not to linger on the idea that her body wasn’t what she wanted yet. She would get there, she reminded herself. After dropping her clothes in the hamper and smoothing out the wrinkles in the nightgown she opened her bathroom door, took in the vanity she had yet to set up and Jean-Paul waiting in her bed.
The vanity could be fixed in the morning, especially since she knew she’d have to replace several items. What little make-up she hadn’t thrown away she’d have to reassess as she wasn’t sure it’d go with her skin tone anymore…she was so much paler than Anne, but she’d find what worked, she knew she would. She touched the wig, tempted oh so very tempted to sleep with it on, to feel the hair cover her cheek, but she wasn’t about to risk ruining it and carefully set it on her vanity.
“Sleep,” she reminded Jean-Paul as she joined him.
He glittered a smile at her, pulled her closed, then placed a brief kiss on her neck. He pulled the covers around them, then wrapped an arm around her waist.
“Goodnight Wanda,” he breathed against her neck and for the first time in a long time she felt comfortable and hopeful as she drifted off to sleep.
Chapters: [1]
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Alpha Flight Marvel Comics
Pairing: Walter/Jean-Paul though there are some kisses it’s ultimately UST. Mentions Walter/Jeanne-Marie, Walter/Veronica (his canon ex-wife)
Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with these characters. Neither is my toy box and I’m merely playing.
Summary: AU Wanda started as Walter, died and came back as Wanda. Now she's stuck as Walter again and she's no longer comfortable living a lie. Jean-Paul comforts.
A/N: AU because JP and JM weren’t really around when Walter changed back…there was this whole stupid dying/elf drama that would’ve interfered. References to Machine Man 11 and the four part Northstar series as well as Walter being turned into Wanda and then back to Walter (Alpha Flight series one #45 to 68). Pronoun change in this chapter. Originally written for the lbgtfest on lj.
Chapter 2:
Walter dropped down into the seat at his vanity and frowned at the reflection that stared back at him. He dropped the card Heather had given him onto the vanity and then ran his hands over the white polished wood. The emptiness of it struck him and he turned from the mirror to take in the expanse of it before him.
When he’d turned back into Walter he’d packed up the contents, but hadn’t been able to part with the vanity itself. It’d been a birthday present from Puck, Heather and Jean-Paul. His gaze was drawn to the closet where he had many of the remnants of his time as Wanda pushed to the back.
When he’d turned into Wanda he’d easily gotten rid of all the belongs that were Walter and thrown himself into being a women. There had been a few moments where he’d had questions, but for the most part the transformation had been startling easy. The only thing he’d found himself questioning was his sexuality. While he had loved Jeanne-Marie and was attracted to her he’d found himself, for the first time, regarding men with more than a passing thought. Jeanne-Marie had rejected him and he’d slipped into flirting with the one man on the team who couldn’t reciprocate. Still, for the first time in his life he’d felt comfortable in his own skin.
He picked up the new Alpha Flight card Heather had given him. He ran his thumb over the name, Wanda Langowski. He stared down at the photo, which was clearly Walter, clearly him. He suddenly wished he’d believed his conversation with Jean-Paul the night before. Knowing that one of his teammates understood him had helped him find sleep, had given him the hope that in the morning he’d find a solution.
Maybe Jean-Paul was right, perhaps there was no easy fix? Instead of trying to invent a machine to transform himself maybe he needed to study his options as a transsexual.
Transsexual, the word finally settled in his mind. The word had played at him, a label that made him realize he wasn’t alone.
He.
Walter frown, ran his thumb over the name, the identity he missed with everything inside of him, the one he wanted.
Wanda.
The name was there, under his-her thumb. She was there, within reach. She just had to be brave enough to endure the journey instead of looking for a quick fix.
How miserable and isolated had she made herself by only seeing Walter when she thought of herself? She hadn’t been Walter since she’d crawled out of her own grave in Snowbird’s body. Why then was she trying to be Walter? Just because her body had betrayed her and turned back her back into a man, that didn’t mean she was a man, didn’t mean she had to force herself to live as a man.
Her physical body might not agree yet, but she was still Wanda, was always going to be Wanda.
The last time she’d desired a quick change her experiment had failed. She’d wanted to find a way to recreate what had happened to Bruce Banner, to become another Hulk. Instead she’d become Sasquatch. She loved being Sasquatch, it was a good if unexpected outcome, but she wasn’t what she’d first set out to be. Then when she’d given Jeanne-Marie what she’d wanted, changed her, it had started the events that had nearly killed both twins. It couldn’t hurt to explore the options to fix her body that were already available, except for the part where she’d have to admit to Jean-Paul that he’d been right. She could do that, she’d even find a way to tease him about it.
Wanda smiled, then took in her vanity. This too could be fixed. She looked into the mirror again and for the first time she didn’t see the identity she was forcing herself into. Instead she saw the potential, who she could become. She might have pushed her body to maintain the bulk of the American football player she’d almost given up science to become, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t find a new exercise and nutrition plan that would help her slim herself.
“I have a present for you,” Jean-Paul informed her from the doorway.
She turned, taking him in before stating the obvious, “You’re drunk.”
Jean-Paul only ever had that easy smile on his face when he was drunk.
“Am I?”
Wanda shook her head and smiled, “You surround yourself with twinkling lights when you’re drunk.”
“Are you saying I have better control over my powers when I’m drunk?”
Wanda rolled her eyes, “I’m saying you have less.”
If he hadn’t been drunk she’d have gotten a scathing comment, instead Jean-Paul laughed, crossed the room and settled a wig onto her head. Wanda blink, stared at her reflection. She suddenly had her hair back, looking as it had before the change back into a male body. She reached up to touch it, let the hair twine around her fingers as she took in her reflection. She couldn’t help but smile.
“You don’t have to keep it, but I figured start with what you’re familiar with,” Jean-Paul told her as he leaned against her, “You could play around, get different colors, different styles.”
She leaned her head back to smile at him, “Maybe I’ll grow out my hair.”
“I’d like that,” he smiled back, “You look different, more relaxed.”
“I feel more relaxed,” she realized, “I hadn’t realized what I was doing to myself."
“Taking my advice or did you find something new?”
“Your advice,” she admitted. She waited for the preening, but it never came. Instead he closed the distance between them, placed a brief kiss on her forehead. Their eyes met, she twisted towards him just that bit more and their lips met in a heated press of tongues, want and missed opportunities.
She wanted his, with him, but even as she lost herself in the feel of his lips on hers she couldn’t help but think they were treading a dangerous path. She pulled back, “What are we doing?”
Jean-Paul perched on the bench beside her and moved to kiss her again, “I thought it was obvious.”
Wanda put her hands on his chest and shook her head, “Aren’t you encouraging me to be myself and isn’t being myself someone you can’t want?”
Jean-Paul blinked, then frowned, then shook his head slowly, “I may be too drunk for this conversation.”
“And yet your still able to make sense,” she teased, “Go to bed.”
“Don’t want to,” he said before capturing her lips again. She got lost in the feel of his hands cupping her face, his lips, his tongue in her mouth.
Her eyes widened and she pulled away, “Jean-Paul.”
“Want you,” he slurred, moving in again.
“You didn’t the last time,” she reminded.
He stilled in a way she wasn’t used to, no movement at all as he stared at her.
“Jean-Paul, you need to go to bed,” she tried, hoping to break the sudden tension.
He wet his lips and closed his eyes tightly, “I always wanted you, but then I was talking to you and seeing Anne. I missed her too. I…I thought you were only interested in me because you were looking to replace my sister and…”
Wanda shook her head. He’d said that before, but it hadn’t completely solidified in her head until now, “That’s not…I didn’t…”
“I know, you said.”
Wanda closed her eyes and wet her lips, “You need to go to bed.”
He needed to do so soon, before she gave in and started kissing him again, started moving willingly towards this unspoken thing between them, towards a relationship she was sure could only end in disaster.
“Don’t want to be alone.”
His voice, he sounded so raw. She pressed her lips quickly to his then impulsively told him, “Then go get ready for bed.”
Jean-Paul smirked and she fixed him with a glare, ready to threaten that she’d take back her offer.
“You’re sleeping it off,” she finished.
“With you makes it better,” Jean-Paul smiled and if that didn’t make her heart beat just that little bit faster than she didn’t know what would. His lips touched hers briefly again and yes, it made her breath catch and her heart speed up again. Then he was gone and Wanda was left to shake her head.
“I should’ve specified no powers,” she told herself before looking in the mirror and adjusting the wig. She took in the color and missed her own blonde hair. Jean-Paul was right, the color was very Anne. Wanda sighed, “Blonde. I’m so very very blonde.”
She crossed to her closet, dug in the back until her hands closed around the box she’d stored several of her vanity items in. Her eyes lingered on her male clothes and the thought of staying up all night with garbage back and rearranging played at her. She put the box on her vanity and crossed back to her closet. She dumped the guy clothes on her bed and dragged the female clothes she’d buried towards the front.
“These trash?” Jean-Paul asked as he came back into the room where pajama pants and white t-shirt.
“Not yet,” Wanda frowned, “I don’t know what I have that’ll fit. Most of these clothes fit the Wanda I was before and that’s not who I am now, not physically. I bought a few things before I realized how much proportionally smaller I was.”
Wanda blinked at the woosh of air and then her male clothes were suddenly being placed in the back of the closet.
“Bed?” Jean-Paul asked, a hopeful lit to his voice.
“So drunk,” she teased before she kissed him briefly, “Go, get in. I’ll be there in a moment.”
Jean-Paul cupped her face, leaned in as though to kiss her and then smiled, “Give you one when you join me.”
She watched silently as he strutted over to her bed and slide under the covers. So drunk she told herself with a silent laugh before she turned back to her closet. She smiled as she found the green silky nightgown that had been one of her first purchases when she’d first turned into a women. It hadn’t fit, she’d still been thinking about being Walter-sized, but now…now she was hoping that it would work.
She glanced towards where Jean-Paul was watching her, smirked at him and disappeared into her bathroom ignoring his protest. There was no way she was getting naked in front of him, not yet, not when her body was so decidedly male…though Jean-Paul would like that. She felt doubt run through her again. They would need to talk when Jean-Paul was sober, but until then she was going to enjoy his company, his warmth, his want and his friendship.
She changed quickly, tried not to linger on the idea that her body wasn’t what she wanted yet. She would get there, she reminded herself. After dropping her clothes in the hamper and smoothing out the wrinkles in the nightgown she opened her bathroom door, took in the vanity she had yet to set up and Jean-Paul waiting in her bed.
The vanity could be fixed in the morning, especially since she knew she’d have to replace several items. What little make-up she hadn’t thrown away she’d have to reassess as she wasn’t sure it’d go with her skin tone anymore…she was so much paler than Anne, but she’d find what worked, she knew she would. She touched the wig, tempted oh so very tempted to sleep with it on, to feel the hair cover her cheek, but she wasn’t about to risk ruining it and carefully set it on her vanity.
“Sleep,” she reminded Jean-Paul as she joined him.
He glittered a smile at her, pulled her closed, then placed a brief kiss on her neck. He pulled the covers around them, then wrapped an arm around her waist.
“Goodnight Wanda,” he breathed against her neck and for the first time in a long time she felt comfortable and hopeful as she drifted off to sleep.
Chapters: [1]
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