Scott and Dani, very early Saturday morning

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Scott comes to hours later in the alley outside the club, alone. His memories don't match his circumstances, and he knows immediately that something is very wrong. He gets himself into a cab and back to the mansion, where Dani sees him staggering in and thinks he's been out drowning his sorrows. She's discreet, however, and just helps him down to the infirmary, if with a few choice words of lecturing thrown in for good measure.


Most of the students at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters would be shocked to the very core of their beings to know that this was not the first time their headmaster had woken up in a gutter. It had been a very long time since Scott had, of course, but the experience was unmistakable. The chill of the pavement beneath him, the damp of the air, the smell of garbage and exhaust fumes...

Scott managed to get himself up to his hands and knees before the churning in his stomach got the better of him and he proceeded to throw up... not a whole hell of a lot, really, but it seemed like forever before he could stop retching. The pain behind his eyes was overwhelming, blinding - bad image, very bad image - and he could taste blood at the back of his throat. Trickling from his nose, too. Something was wrong.

... something was really wrong. Gasping, he sagged sideways, the shock of impact jarring all the way up his arm as he caught himself on an elbow before he could hit the pavement face-first. Something had happened. What? He had...

Jessica's smile, mischievous and promising all kinds of things as she ordered them more of those not-quite mojitos. "You're even cuter when you're not wearing that 'woe-is-me' look," she purred, sliding even closer in the confines of the booth, her hands roaming. "If I take you back to my apartment are you going to look all sheepish in the morning?"

No. No, damn it, he hadn't. But the memories flooded through his mind, sharp-edged and yet fuzzy - with alcohol? They hadn't made it back to her apartment. Had they? Outside, he remembered walking outside with her, not being able to keep his hands off her...

Scott bit back a groan as his stomach twisted again. He hadn't. He couldn't have. His eyes stung with tears, and for a moment 'fetal ball on the ground' was sounding like the best of all possible worlds.

He didn't know whether it was pride, or pure stubbornness, but he lurched to a sitting position, breathing hard as he tried to gather the remnants of his composure. The pain in his head ballooned with the movement, but he gritted his teeth, his jaw clenching, and rode it out.

What had he done? What had he...

This was the alley outside the club. Scott stared in dull shock at the wall beside him, the familiar street behond the alley. How had he... if he had left with Jessica, why was he...

His hand went down to check his pocket. Wallet was still there. Keys in the pocket of his coat. Not a mugging, then.

"-now, whoever finishes first can claim a forfeit of choice," Jessica said, giggling, as yet another pair of drinks was set down in front of them. "To be claimed once we're somewhere more private. Although after this, we slow down," she amended, still giggling, "because I want you able to perfoooooorm...."

Not. That was not right, it wasn't. Scott's breath caught in his chest and he put his hands to his temples, as if giving his head a good shake was suddenly going to make everything make sense.

Something was wrong. He couldn't have left with her and still be here. He remembered her car, her apartment... but it was somewhere else, why was he still here? And he wasn't drunk. He knew what being drunk felt like. This wasn't it.

Something was wrong. Something was really, really wrong. It took all the strength he had to get up, and he tottered so violently that he wound up leaning against the wall for support. He wasn't going to fall again.

Cab. He needed to get a cab, Scott thought dizzily. He needed to go home.

---

Dani couldn't remember the last time she'd slept through a night without waking up for some reason. More than a year, she was certain. Maybe closer to two years. This early in the morning, or late at night depending on your point of view, it wasn't really worth trying to go back to sleep though. Instead, Dani was wandering around the school in her pajamas and drinking hot tea.

Scott wasn't entirely sure where he needed to go first. To Lee, to tell him about the likely security breach? To Charles to have his mind scanned? Or to the infirmary, to... no, not thinking about it, just doing it when it came time to do that, so not thinking about it at all. Scott tottered a little, a hand going out against the wall beside him to support himself.

It was a good thing he'd taken a cab back. He didn't think, between the headache and the dizziness, that driving would have been such a good idea.

Normally when someone came sneaking in at this time of the morning they were slightly more discreet than coming in the front door. Setting her mug down, Dani went to see who it was and how hung over they were. She stopped in the entry way as Mr. Summers stumbled in. At least he was over 21.

Raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms over her chest she watched him move in the overly careful way that drunks tended to. She was not going to say a word. Not yet anyways.

Scott stopped, sagging against the wall, and gagged at the taste of blood at the back of his throat. Not any more of that, damn it, he thought dimly. The cab driver had asked him if he'd been mugged.

He felt the trickle of blood running from his nose and wiped it away with a shaking hand. Charles was murmuring in the back of his mind, and Scott closed his eyes, listening for a moment. Infirmary first. Charles would tell Lee. All right.

"Come on," Dani finally said brusquely, hauling Scott up by one arm and helping support him. Being only an inch shy of six feet tall did occassionally have some advantages other than using Forge as an arm rest."You ain't gonna get anywhere on your own."

"Need to go to the infirmary," Scott muttered a bit feebly. Charles was in his mind, doing something, and the dizziness at least was easing a little.

If he had thought she would take him anywhere else then he didn't know her very well yet. And the Professor had already informed her of that. "You went on one hell of bender," she said, trying to keep him focused.

"I didn't." The memories were wrong. That hadn't happened. Not like that. "This isn't... I'm not drunk."

"You sure look drunk," Dani commented, although he also looked like he'd been in a fight. Both of which were uncharacteristic...as was destroying his suite and hiding in a guest room for several days. Who was she to know what uncharacteristic was?

The repressive tone was almost helpful, bizarrely enough. Scott straightened a little, although he was still shaking - and still definitely needing the support to keep moving. "I'm not," he repeated weakly. "Hangovers don't have nosebleeds. I'm not remembering it right..."

"Your mind is..." she paused trying to find a diplomatic way to phrase this without sounding juvenile, "chaotic. Don't feel right. Everything is jumbled. Ain't right," Dani couldn't explain it better than that. She wasn't a telepath or even an empath, she just saw his fears and what she was seeing made no sense.

"Someone was..." But he didn't know that, did he? Except that he did. Because nothing fit. The edges didn't match, the circumstances made no sense. Something had happened, something that shouldn't have, but not what he thought.

Shaking her head as if to clear the images out of her mind, Dani deposited Scott on a medical exam table unceremoniously. She had no tolerance for being drunk, despite his claims about not being drunk. "Look, I ain't gonna tell any students, but I am gonna talk to Ms. Munroe," she informed him, her voice brooking no arguement, "And you can talk to me, if you want. I...know what it's like. How much it hurts."

Scott put a hand to his temple, staring up at the ceiling. "It's not-" No, she was trying to help. "Okay," he said more unsteadily. He needed to not talk, he thought. Not think. That would be more comfortable just now.

"And you can't avoid it either," she informed him as they waited for the doctor, "Don't work that easy."