Log: Bobby and Angelo, backdated to 3 am Friday morning

[x-coldhands.livejournal.com]

Angelo needs to blow off steam after getting Nathan's email. Bobby follows him and offers to be his personal punching bag, then tries to offer a few words of comfort and encouragement. Yay for insomniac roomies.


Bobby frowned at the sound of the suite door opening and closing, a bit roughly for three am. He sighed and closed the lid of his laptop, quickly pulling on a pair of sweatpants. Angelo had been upset all day, and then there was the team post about Nate...Bobby was fairly worried, himself, which explained why he was awake. But Angelo...Angelo was much closer to Nate. And if something was up, Bobby wasn't about to leave him alone. Not after all Angelo had done for him.

He slipped out of the suite door a minute later, standing irresolute for a minute, and then headed off to look for him. Kitchen first, then the gym. Garage after that, and hope that he hadn't checked out a car, he decided.

The gym was the right guess, as it happened. By the time Bobby got down there, Angelo had found his gloves and was laying into one of the punching bags. His sword stood propped against one wall, ready for when - or if - he felt calm enough to do sword forms.

Bobby hesitated in the doorway, watching Angelo for a minute, then crossed to the punching bag and leaned against the wall nearby. "S'up?" he asked casually, arms folded over his chest.

"Nothin' new", came the gruff answer, without looking round or breaking his rhythm. "Nate's still gone. An' still a fuckin' idiot."

Bobby sighed. "Yeah. He is." He eyed Angelo for a minute, then offered, "Wanna spar?" Sure, it was three AM, but if Angelo needed to vent with some physical activity, then Bobby would be there for him.

"...sure." He stopped hitting the bag, finally turning to Bobby. "If you want."

It was better than standing there and watching, and Bobby sure as hell wasn't just going to leave him. "Why not?" He headed for the mats, stretching.

Angelo followed, stripping off the gloves and beginning a set of stretches of his own when he reached the mat. He wasn't ready to tell Bobby about the e-mail yet, but... maybe.

Bobby wasn't about to pry. If Angelo wanted to talk, he'd talk. If he just wanted to beat the crap out of his roommate...well, that was even better. He finished stretching and stood, bouncing on the balls of his bare feet. "Ready when you are."

Angelo just nodded and launched an attack, not bothering to wait. Bobby was an X-Man, he could deal.

And he could, but perhaps not as well at three in the morning, when he's had a rough few weeks. He managed to defend against the attack, but just barely, taking a punch in the ribs that made him wince. But his blood started warming as he finished defending, then launched a counter-attack, holding back a bit. He didn't want to hurt him, after all...

Angelo was only holding back in the sense that he didn't want to leave his room-mate with broken bones, or any such serious injury. Other than that, he wasn't pulling his punches in the slightest, or allowing Bobby much recovery time. He needed to take this whole thing out on something, after all, and Bobby had volunteered...

And Bobby was more than happy to be Angelo's personal punching bag, if it helped. He started putting more effort into his own moves, keeping on the defense for the most part, letting Angelo be the aggressive one. He was the one that needed it more, after all.

This went on until Angelo was out of energy to carry on, and dropped wearily to the mat, reaching for a nearby bottle of water. He had a few developing bruises, but - he suspected - not half as many as Bobby did.

Bobby sank gratefully to the mat, aching and sore. "...Feel any better?" he panted, wincing as he stretched. Yup, he'd have some bruises.

"...some." He managed a crooked smile. "Thanks, man."

"No problem." He lay back on the mat, cooling himself off, the mat frosting over in an outline around his body. "So what set you off?"

"Got an email from Nathan", he said flatly. "Time-delayed or somethin', I don't know. Sounded like he wrote it before he left, anyway."

Bobby sighed and looked over at him. "Yeah? What'd he have to say for himself?"

"He's with Gideon, like we thought. He doesn't want me anywhere near him, I should tell the COs about his visions - like I didn't do that already - he doesn't want any more collateral damage, an'..." His face twisted as he remembered the last words, far too much like a goodbye. "An' he's very proud of me."

Bobby groaned. "I thought he was supposed to be a responsible adult." Not that Bobby had room to talk on that score, these days. "I'm sure he'll be okay, man. He's survived...well, a hell of a lot."

"Not like this. You know what Gideon can do, you must've heard about it."

Bobby nodded reluctantly. He was trying not to think about it, to be honest. "He didn't say anything else that might help?" he asked, knowing the answer was no. If Angelo had any new information, he would have gone straight to Xavier with it.

"Not a thing. I don't think he wants us to find him before... whatever's goin' to happen's happened."

"...Oh, for Christ's sake," Bobby muttered, disgusted. There was a limit to how much macho bullshit someone should pull, and this was way over it. "Maybe the prof'll come up with something..."

"Hope so. I've got an idea where to start lookin', from his visions. But that's only a start."

Bobby nodded. "Nothing else we can do tonight, though. Why don't you try to get some sleep, man? You might need it."

That got a rueful grin. "Never could, when the bad shit starts. An' I think we might be headin' out in a few hours, I don't want to take anythin' that might stop me wakin' up in time."

"All right," Bobby said with a shrug and another wince. "Ugh...I'm gonna go soak in a hot bath for a bit and get some sleep then." He got stiffly to his feet. "If you need me, you know where I am."

Angelo nodded, glancing over at his sword. Maybe his mind was clear enough now... "Yeah. Thanks for comin' down, man... an' sorry about the bruises."

"Hey, don't sweat it." Bobby held his hand out to help Angelo up, then clasped him in a quick, back-patting embrace. "You be careful, when you go."

"We will", he promised, then offered another half-grin. "But hey, I'm a survivor."

We all are, Bobby thought with a small grin in return. "See you when you get home, man. Bring him back." He took a deep breath and headed for the doors at a brisk walk that made his bruises ache. That was enough mushy emotional crap. He must be getting tired.