Bobby and Scott, backdated to Sunday morning

[x-coldhands.livejournal.com]

Sunday morning after a chat with his roomie, Bobby goes to Scott for reassurance over he and Terry's situation and doesn't find it.


Bobby wasn't exactly pacing. Well, he kind of was, but it was purposeful pacing. He was making his way through the mansion methodically, checking all the likely spots to find Scott. He popped his head into the staff lounge, withdrew, then jerked to a halt and repeated the action. "Scott." The one word had a heavy undertone of relief. "Can I talk to you?"

Scott blinked, looking away from the television for a moment. "Sure," he said, not without a certain mild regret. Bobby had his 'I need to talk' face on, but... bobsled! Scott looked a bit woefully at the television and then turned it off.

"Sorry," Bobby said in response to that longing look as he slipped into the room. "It's...kinda important, though." He looked ill at ease, as he glanced around, despite the fact that the room was obviously empty other than the two of them.

"What's up?" Scott asked, setting the remote down on the coffee table.

Bobby moved to the couch, sat down, stood up, then sat down again and sighed. "Terrspunhuh," he muttered.

Scott raised an eyebrow. "Terry's....?" he prompted, hoping he was interpreting that first bit properly.

Bobby rubbed his eyes and stared at the floor beneath his feet. "Preg-nant," he enunciated, quietly but clearly.

Scott's jaw did its best impression of hitting the floor. "She's what?" he asked, managing not to shout it.

Yeah, that reaction seemed about right. "We used protection!" Bobby swore, giving Scott an appealing look.

Scott opened his mouth again, then closed it. Then glared at Bobby. "Clearly, you didn't use it properly."

"She was on the pill," Bobby muttered. "I thought we were safe."

Scott's eyes narrowed. "There's this nifty little invention called a condom," he said, more than a little bitingly. "It's very useful."

"She was on the pill!" Bobby repeated. "I didn't think I needed them if she was..." He sighed. There was no point in arguing that detail--the damage had been done, so to speak.

"For fuck's sake, Bobby," Scott growled, getting up and pacing over to the window. He felt like he needed to pace, suddenly. "She's seventeen years old. You're twenty. Why the hell wouldn't you have been taking every precaution possible?"

'Because I don't like them' didn't seem like it was likely to go over well. "What does it matter, now? She's pregnant. It's a little late to worry about whether I've been wearing condoms." There. That was a little better, if not much.

"Don't get mouthy with me," Scott growled at him, getting up and pacing over to the window. "I realize this is a matter of locking the barn door after the horse is gone... but damn, Bobby. Dumb. Really dumb." He shook his head, staring out at the grounds. "Is she sure she's pregnant?"

Bobby blinked. "...As far as I know," he said, making an oh-so-mature face at Scott's back.

Scott gave him a dark look. "Has she gone down to the infirmary to have Jean or Moira or Amelia give her a proper pregnancy test?" he asked pointedly.

"Uhh," Bobby replied intelligently. "I...dunno." He'd assumed, but now he realized he'd never gotten around to asking her.

"That would be the first logical thing to do, if she hasn't," Scott said brusquely. "I'll speak to her about it, if you don't feel comfortable."

"Uh, no. I can do it." Bobby sighed and added quietly, "I proposed to her."

Scott told himself that slamming his head against the wall was not a good idea. Neither was slamming Bobby's. "Tell me, is the taste for melodrama new, or have I just been missing it all along?" Scott gritted. "Or do you just watch too much of the wrong kind of TV?"

That was enough. Bobby got to his feet. "You know what? I don't need this. I came to you because you're one of the few people I could trust with this...but I don't need a lecture, Scott. I don't need to be insulted, or talked down to..." He turned for the door and muttered, "Screw this," under his breath.

"You stop," Scott said, his voice low and deadly, "right there."

Bobby stopped, but he didn't turn around. "You're not my CO, Scott. Not right now. And you're not my father."

"Like hell I'm not your CO right now," Scott snapped, stepping away from the window and crossing the distance between them. "One of my team members has possibly gotten the daughter... the underaged daughter of another of my team members pregnant. I'll admit that in the grand scheme of how much this would disrupt your lives, especially Terry's, that's a small thing, but don't you pretend this doesn't have repercussions for more than just the two of you."

"She's giving the baby up, who the hell else does it affect?" Bobby retorted, his throat aching.

"How about we make sure that there is a baby before the two of you start making life plans?" Scott said tightly. "If she just used one of those over-the-counter tests... Bobby, do you have any idea how often those things are wrong?"

That was a question Bobby could answer. He'd checked. On the internet. "Three percent," he said quietly. Not really the best odds. "I'll talk to her, Scott." He didn't want to be here anymore.

"And I'll talk to Jean, then. Terry would probably be most comfortable with her." Not that Terry and Moira didn't get along, but given Moira's long relationship with Sean, best to avoid the complication, and Amelia was still mostly a stranger to most of the kids. "Until we know for sure," Scott said more quietly, "we can keep it to that. There's really no point in making plans of any sort until you've got confirmation. Either of you."

"Fine." Bobby refused to look at him. "Can I go now, sir?"

"Once you tell me what she said when you asked her to marry you," Scott said inexorably. He hoped it had been no. If it had been yes, things were going to be very complicated.

Bobby winced, though it was hard to say why. "She said no."

Scott relaxed a little. "Think about it for a minute," he said, his voice considerably less hard. "What happens with you and Terry will happen. If she is pregnant, things will change. If she's not, they might anyway, after a scare like this. But however much you might have wanted to show that you were committed, entering into something like that out of a sense of obligation isn't going to do anything but doom the relationship in the end. It might seem like the ethical thing to do, but it's not practical."

Bobby nodded slightly. "Can I go now?"

Scott looked away, shaking his head, and headed for the door instead of answering right away. "I'll go talk to Jean now," he said over his shoulder, business-like again. "You might keep in mind that while this conversation might have seemed awkward, it's probably a pleasant chat compared to the one you're going to have to have with Sean if that second test is positive."

Ignoring the chunk of ice that was his stomach a moment ago, Bobby clenched his jaw and said tightly, "Of course. Thank you for pointing that out, Mr. Summers." He followed Scott toward the door.

Scott stopped, half-turning. "What did you want, Bobby?" he asked pointedly. "Support?"

Bobby looked at him, hurt and betrayal and anger all visible on his face, in his eyes. "I wanted a friend, Scott." He pushed past him and added in an undertone, "Obviously I came to the wrong place."

"She is an underaged student," Scott snapped, "and you are an X-Man. Unfortunately, it's not that simple."

"So I noticed," Bobby whispered, and fled the room.