Liar

As soon as he awoke, M's face came back into view; his brows were deeply furrowed in concern, and his eyes has become thin slits. But when he realized that Jean was awake, he released the tension in his body with a sigh.

"You're okay," he said, trying to reassure the both of them.

Sleepily, Jean responded, "Mmnh? Emm, yeah, yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"You were screaming. You scared the rest of my house pretty bad." He smiled, a little amused.

When presented with a vision as vile and disturbing as the one he had seen, most people would wake up with sweat soaked sheets and breathing heavily. Jean, however, was calm. He had, evidently, cried out in his sleep, but he didn't wake up with panic in his eyes. His heart was steady.

"Oh, s-sorry. I didn't mean to. Just a nightmare."

"Was it the battlefield? Soldiers like you often have night terrors. It haunts most for years and some their entire lives. I've known some people like that. Only a few of them ever meet a good end."

Jean wanted to clear up the situation and tell M about his dream, but caution advised him not to. He couldn't tell the full truth because he had no idea how M would react, so he chose a blend of truth and fabrication.

"No, not exactly. Honestly, I can't... I don't know why I was there. I can't remember anything from before." M's face tensed up slightly, and Jean noticed but had no choice but to keep telling the lie because he didn't know why M reacted this way. He could try and change it, but he could make it even worse, and M might notice that he was trying to change his story.

"I can remember a few vague things from my past but not much. I remember a woman. I can't recall her name, but I know her face and what she meant to me." He sniffed for dramatic effect and teared up slightly. "She was everything. I loved her. I loved her... I loved her so much that I don't even know how to tell you how much I did."

"But now, I don't even know her, and that hurts so much worse than any of my injuries from the field. To know that heaven was next to me," his facial expression turned ugly; his frown was created so quickly that it almost felt violent, and he seemed to lose control of his emotions as he said, "and then I—I—I—I went to war, and I left her, and, and I lost her for nothing! It was all pointless, wasn't it! But she was—she—she was everything! Damn what I did! I can't! I, I, I, I..." He gripped the sheets in both hands and took a few deep breaths to steady himself. "I'm sorry. Forgive me."

He was an extremely convincing actor. Apathy is separation from emotion, and when Jean separated himself from his emotions (though it was not entirely by choice), he became able to create artificial ones by mimicking what he saw from others with extreme precision. He became an excellent liar, not that he ever used it for much except avoiding doing extra work in one way or another.

"No, you're ok," M replied. He appeared slightly convinced, but he was certainly taken aback by the apparent emotion in Jean's voice. Probing Jean, he said, "You know, maybe I can help." He studied Jean's face intensely. "I have some contacts in Vespucc and a spell..." The light of ecstasy appeared in Jean's eyes at that moment, and M knew he had him. "...that should be able to help you recover a part of your memories."

Before Jean could reply, though, M interrupted his thoughts. "But you don't need that spell, do you? You're lying to me. You remember everything, but you don't have this body's memories, do you? And you were afraid of how I might react when I found out that you're not from here." His last sentence was a statement, not a question, because M was now entirely certain.

Shaken, Jean tried to defend himself, "What? What do you mean? I don't understand. Where would I be from?" This time, he managed to keep his composure and his voice even.

"Don't lie further or play dumb. I understand your caution, but I despise liars." His tone dropped to a low, threatening growl. "Where are you really from?"

Panicked, Jean hesitated for one fatal moment before mistakenly trying to keep his lie going in a higher voice than before. "I—I don't understand. Where—what world would I from but this one?!"

He tried his best, but even Jean's sociopathic tendencies couldn't help him keep up his façade this time, as M knocked the stool aside and lifted Jean's entire 200 pound (91kg) muscled body into the air by his neck. A slow growl emanated from M's neck, "I. HATE. Liars. Do you understand?" Jean continued panicking for only a moment before frantically nodding to avoid the unveiled threat. M slammed his body back down on the bed, nearly breaking it as Jean started coughing as soon as his throat was released.

M glared heavily at him as he waited a moment for Jean to recover from his coughing fit before commanding him, "Start again. Where are you from?"

"I—I'm from Earth. I lived in the nation of Poland before now, but I was born in France. I—I'm sorry, I was scared." He whimpered. "What are you going to do to me, now?"

M sat a moment before saying, "Nothing. Nothing bad, at least. I don't recognize the name of your world or those nations, so I have no reason to do anything to you," M lied guiltily. They both let out a breath, M to recollect his mind, and Jean because he believed that he had narrowly evaded whatever M had in store by chance. Jean felt the most relieved he ever had in that moment. 

"Thank you," Jean said. "What would you have done to me if I had been from a place you recognized?"

"I don't know, exactly. I probably would have killed you, but not because I would want to. I hate killing. I've done it before, but there's something so completely morally repulsive about it that I only do it if I truly must."

"Why would you have killed me? What's wrong with those places? Is coming here common?"

"It depends on the world, but the vast majority pose a threat in one way or another. Some are intentionally malicious, but others aren't. But no, coming here isn't common. It's rare, but each occurrence is a major event because of one incident or another, almost all negative. I couldn't explain to you why it happens, but it happens here more often than any other world."

"Yeah, it probably does because I've never heard of somebody getting to Earth from another world. But what happens when people come here that's so bad?"

"Like I said, it depends, but it's normally something to the effect of world domination, destruction of a nation, a wanton massacre, and so on. But I've never managed to speak to someone like you, so I'm curious. How did you get here? It doesn't seem like you're here on purpose."

"Honestly, I don't know. By all accounts, I should be dead."

"Why is that?"

"Well, I..." He hesitated a moment and then sighed before deciding against lying, though it took him a few more seconds to fully resolve himself to telling the truth. "I killed myself. I can't tell you why, but I don't care for my life. It just seems horrible to me, maybe, I guess. If I could simply disappear, I think I would."

"I see. That's a heavy topic, but thank you for telling me what really happened."

"Yeah."

A minute went by as the two of them pondered the situation. "What do you think we should do now," Jean asked.

"Well, we could do a lot of things, but it ultimately depends on what you want to do. You have the chance to create an entirely new life how you want, but it almost seems like you don't want that, which is an issue."

Jean felt a slight indignance at that last part but held himself back. "I want to learn."

"Learn? Learn what? What for if you don't want to use it for something?"

"Don't worry about that. I just want to know things. Magic, in particular, is of extreme interest to me because it's something that's been romanticized intensely in my past world. I know almost nothing about it, so I'd love to learn just about anything."

"...Alright, I can teach you." Jean smiled brightly. "But in exchange, I want to know more about your past world and what made you want to leave it."

Jean grimaced at the latter condition. "Well, I don't know if I can tell you the last part. I can describe Earth to you, but I don't know why I wanted to leave, exactly."

"That's fine. You can leave that to me to figure out. You just have to tell me about it."

Jean smiled again. "Then, we have an accord." He stuck out his hand to shake, which M looked at dumbly, not understanding. "Sorry, that's an Earth custom. When we strike a deal, we grasp each other's hands and shake," he said before retracting his hand.

"And it looks like I'm the first beneficiary of our deal," M laughed. It was a deep, hearty laugh that radiated mirth and completely dispelled the tension from earlier. "I'd like to start today, but we should probably start tomorrow. I need to help you understand some other things first."