Two more logs: Bobby and Nate, Bobby and Jean.

[x-coldhands.livejournal.com]

Monday night, late/Tuesday morning, early. Bobby's up late playing video games. Nate catches him and they catch up, and discuss the probability of Bobby rejoining the X-Men.


1:00 AM was late enough that Bobby didn't have to worry about any of the younger kids wandering in, so he broke out his copy of Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas, and had been playing for about an hour, too wound up on sugar and and joy at being back to sleep.

"That's a very unrealistic video game," came a low voice from the doorway. Nathan smiled a bit faintly, watching the action on the screen. "But then, fun doesn't have to be realistic."

Bobby jumped and paused the game, glancing over the back of the couch. "Hey," he said softly, smiling. The face was familiar--Nate, but not someone he knew well. "I'm not too interested in 'real' right now," he confessed with a small grin and a shrug. "Just a bit of pretend mayhem, to kill the time."

"Pretend mayhem," Nathan murmured a bit ironically, coming over to sit on the end of the couch. He was moving too stiffly again - between the flight and all the time sitting around afterwards, between relating every detail of the weekend to Moira and racing through some teaching work he really should have done before he left, his back was not happy with him. "So how are you coping with being back?" Nathan went on. "Lots of changes in a year."

"I'll say," Bobby muttered, grimacing. "I can barely keep everything straight in my head--too many new names, and changes in the lives of old friends...people that have grown up since I last saw them..." He sighed and added, "It's good to be back, though. I just wish I hadn't left in the first place, and missed it all."

"You'll catch up," Nathan said, leaning back into the couch. "Had you noticed that Moira's pregnant yet?" he asked a bit whimsically.

"Yes, actually." Bobby grinned. "There seems to have been a lot of that going on of late, too." Pregnancies, babies, adoptions...Miles had been the only one when he'd left.

"I'm the soon to be father, by the way. Of the already-telekinetic baby," Nathan murmured.

Bobby just nodded, not sure how to respond to this information. There'd been so many moments like this in the past few days. "...Congratulations?" he said hopefully.

Nathan laughed softly. "Thank you," he said. "Should I put you on the 'will run for the hills if asked for babysitting help' list, or the 'I'm in touch with my masochism' list?"

"Uhh...I think I'll opt for the 'run for the hills' list. But lemme know when the baby starts teething--ice teething rings are supposed to be nice and soothing." Bobby grinned and added, "I'm better with older kids."

Nathan chuckled again. "Duly noted." He gave the younger man a thoughtful sideways look. "You were on the team originally, weren't you?"

Bobby nodded, his grin fading. "For a while, yeah. Why?"

"Was just wondering if you're planning to come back," Nathan said with a shrug. "An ability like yours could be pretty useful."

Bobby shrugged lightly. "Dunno, hadn't really thought about it much, yet. Probably." He personally didn't see how it could be that useful to freeze stuff, but if Nate thought so, he wouldn't bother trying to dissuade him.

"Think of how easily you could non-lethally settle down a crowd," Nathan mused, tactical options dancing in his head.

"...I could?" Bobby sat up, looking at him curiously, trying to picture just how he could do this. "With...ice cream?"

Nathan blinked, raising an eyebrow. "Icing up the ground underneath their feet," he said immediately. "Ice walls to steer them one direction or another. Combine your powers with Ororo and create a nice distracting hail... I could go on."

"...Huh. I guess so." Bobby nodded thoughtfully. He wasn't sure just how big of a crowd they were talking about, but it was definitely plausible.

"And any measures you come up with have the fringe benefit of not also posing a lethal threat," Nathan pointed out. "Unlike, say, a pyrokinetic."

Bobby made a face at the mention of a pyrokinetic. "True. Well, if anyone asks me to, I'll probably join the team again."

"Twelve hours," Nathan said.

"Huh?"

"Twelve hours after Scott gets back, he'll be knocking on your door." Nathan snorted softly. "Five bucks on it."

Bobby laughed, nodding in agreement. "I'm not taking that bet--I've known Mr. Summers for too long."

Nathan wondered idly if anyone had told Bobby about Jean yet. "There's a whole horde of trainees these days," he said. "Had you heard that? You'd certainly have company."

"With the number of new faces around here, I'm not surprised. But hey, the more the better, right?" Bobby eyed his game briefly and turned his attention back to Nate.

Nathan raised an eyebrow, smiling. "Shall I let you get back to leisurely mayhem?" he asked, rising. "Didn't mean to grill you, Bobby. Was just thinking about things..." He shrugged a little, the smile lingering.

"Nah, I don't care." It wasn't exactly true, but Bobby was too nice to say anything. The truth was he'd been a little overloaded by socializing in the past few days, after months of virtual solitude, being completely alone in the crowd.

Nathan turned towards the door. "Blow something up for me," he said lightly. "I've been so horribly deprived lately. Good night, Bobby."

Bobby laughed. "Will do. Night!" He turned back to his game and unpaused it, snagging a car and mowing down a few pedestrians.


Tuesday afternoon. Bobby and Jean pass on the stairs, and Bobby freaks out as he's faced with someone he knows is dead. She manages to calm him down and he gets a bit mushy.


Bobby walked up the stairs and headed down the hall, munching absently on the sandwich he'd just made, at least taking some pains not to spill lettuce or turkey all over the floor, although using a plate was clearly to much to ask of the boy.

He thought idly about what movie he'd put in as he walked, somewhat lost in his thoughts and calling out greetings to familiar faces as he passed them.

They hadn't been back that long, and she didn't have a shift just now, but Jean thought she ought to at least go down to the lab now that she'd finished packing. She needed to check on Paige, and make sure nothing new had come up over the holiday. Lost in her own thoughts, Jean wasn't really processing the thoughts and sights around her, just reacting to them automatically, so when she passed Bobby going down the stairs there wasn't anything strange about that. After all, he'd been a part of the mansion much longer than he hadn't, and Jean hadn't been here when he left. "Hello, Bobby," she said, continuing down the stairs.

"Hello, Dr. Grey." Bobby made it a few more steps before it hit him and he staggered, nearly falling down the stairs, his sandwich falling to the ground as he grabbed for the rail with a squeak. "Wh-wh--you..." he stammered, wide-eyed and pale.

The sudden flash of mental confusion snapped Jean out of her preoccupation and she spun around, staring. "Oh my God, Bobby..." When did... how did... oh, boy. "Breathe, sweetie," she told him, feeling the confusion in his mind start to shift towards panic. "It's ok."

"You're dead..." he whispered, staggering up a stair, shaking his head in denial of what he was seeing. Suddenly his panic spiked as he realized..."Mystique!" His hand came up, aiming at her feet, trying to immobilize her, slow her down until he can get help. Ice began to form around her shoes as Bobby started to tremble.

Double oh boy... Simultaneously strengthening her shields against his panic and reaching out to him was definitely beyond her just now, but the shoes were already a loss and not losing control was of paramount importance. #Bobby, I swear to you I'm not...# Jean cut the sending off abruptly as she touched the thoughts at the forefront of Bobby's mind - anger and fear and the memories of what had been done to him. Jean's face went white with anger and she clamped down hard on what little control over her powers she had so as not to let her TK slip. "... That bitch is going to die."

At least the voice echoing inside his head, rather than out loud, was enough to make Bobby pause, his hand faltering. "....Dr. Grey?" he whispered weakly, abruptly sitting down hard on the step above him. "Is it really you?" His emotions and thoughts, memories, were all still swirling confusedly, and he felt light-headed.

Taking a deep breath, Jean fought to rein in her anger. That could be dealt with later, now it was time to concentrate on the young man looking so distressed in front of her. "It's really me, Bobby. I apologize for the shock. You hadn't heard?" She opened her mouth to try to explain, then closed it again. #It's... a little complicated. But it's really me.# She'd thought she was through with these, thought she was done with having to face the children she'd been taken away from, and who she had hurt in the process of saving.

Bobby shook his head again. "But you--you died...I was there," he whispered, reaching out for her with a trembling hand.

She held her hand out to him, he could take it if he needed, but she wouldn't push him. "I lost consciousness, but somehow... I don't know how, but my powers saved me. I'd hit my head - woke up in a hospital in Vancouver with no powers and no memory of, well, anything. Then my powers came back, but I couldn't control them. Someone suggested I come to see Professor Xavier and get help, and when I came back... I remembered." Well, that covered the salient details. Mostly. And everytime she told the story the voice in her mind that cried out about all that she didn't say got quieter. Going away, Jean hoped, or at least coming to accept that this was her life now.

Bobby took her hand, curling his fingers around hers and squeezing gently, then he let out a soft sobbing noise and lurched to his feet, throwing himself at her and hugging tightly. "You're alive," he whispered, filled with wonder and a strange, almost hesitant joy.

Jean wrapped her arms around him, hugging him back as a few tears slipping out from her closed eyes at the feeling of his thoughts and her own release of tension. #I'm alive,# she promised him silently.

"Oh, I missed you," Bobby said thickly, clinging to her as if afraid she'd disappear again. He realized he was still hugging her and jumped back a bit, embarrassed. "I really did."

Jean couldn't quiet help the little smile as Bobby's not-so-adolescent male ego reminded him that huggin was not really the thing to do. But she was glad he'd done it in the first place - they'd all grown up so much while she was gone... "I missed you... I missed so much of all of your lives, and I'm sorry for that."

Bobby waved his hand dismissively. "I can sympathize...although it was by choice with me, so that makes it worse." He sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets, his sandwich lying forgotten and strewn on a stair a few feet away. "I'm just so glad to see you again--" He laughed nervously and glanced at her. "But I don't know what to say to you."

"I'm glad to see you, too. How have you been? What have you been up to? You went to college?" Jean had dozens of questions for him.

Bobby nodded, leaning against the banister. "Yeah...did a year of college. Didn't like it." He shrugged, trying to state it all matter-of-factly, but fooling a telepath wasn't that easy--the feelings of bitterness and loneliness were threaded through his thoughts.

Jean nodded, picking up on it, but also sensing that he would rather not talk about it, thank you very much. "Well, welcome home, then," she said, simply.

Not with Jean, anyway. "Thanks. It's, uh...it's good to see you again." He glanced away, his gaze lighting on the sandwich, and he bit back a curse. "...I'd better clean that up."

Jean looked down, and nodded. "Yes, that would probably be best. And I need to get down to the medlab and check in. I'll talk with you later, though, if you like. My door is always open." She could feel him pulling away, closing up, but it was understandable. She wasn't going to push.

"Thanks." Bobby nodded and crossed to the sandwich, carefully scooping up spilled meat and lettuce. He needed some time to process the information he'd just been bombarded with. Somewhere he could be alone, and just think. "See you later." He grinned awkwardly and jogged back down the stairs, heading toward the kitchen to throw away the deceased sandwich. He wasn't hungry anymore, anyway.