Forge and Rahne, Thursday

Backdated to Thursday, after Forge and Scott have spoken.

Rahne and Forge run into each other coming on/off infirmary shifts. She's none too pleased with his actions, and lets him know. Forge is not used to someone else throwing a moral argument at him, and words are had.

Rahne had just distributed the latest supply of food (not her cooking, this time, but she'd made the run up to the kitchen) and was coming out of the last patients' room. She wiped her forehead, frowned at the moisture on her fingers, and went to wash her hands.

And saw Forge. He'd just be finishing up, wouldn't he.

Forge pushed the empty cart into the closet, hanging the clipboard on its peg. "Oh, hey," he said with a nod as he noticed Rahne. "Heck of a busy week, right?"

"Very," she agreed, drying her hands carefully, keeping her eyes focused on them. After a moment she pressed her lips together and threw away the disposable towel a little too violently. "Not that we doona appreciate the extra help, but what were ye thinking?"

Forge cursed silently, hunching his shoulders. Of course people would have been talking about his encounter with Masque. "For the record, I didn't intend to hurt him. Scare him, screw with him? Yeah. Give him a bit of perspective on what we had to go through. I'd apologize for his wrist, but really, I don't think it'd be sincere."

Rahne sighed. She was too tired to work up a lot of verbal temper. "From what I hear -- which is second, third hand, I suppose -- the wrist was the part ye would least need to apologize for. If he snatched at ye...." She shivered a little. "I canna claim to understand what it was like, or not to have wanted to hurt him. But that doesna make it right. Or useful."

Forge shook his head, clasping his hands together. "I know. I'm not trying to hold myself up as any kind of moral standard here. I know I violated about ninety different tenets of medical ethics - Doctor Voght seems to enjoy quoting new parts of the ethical guidelines at me whenever I pass her office." He gave a small chuckle, then looked down the hall. "But to be honest? I wanted him to be afraid. To know what it was like to be the one not in control, the same way he made me, my friends, all those people down there feel. Maybe it wasn't right, but I felt it was needed."

"The point of what's right is that it's needed! If ye really think 'twas needed and that what ye did was better than not doing it, then ye are claiming it was right, even if it was against the rules. But I canna agree with ye on it, not this time. Maybe nothing else will get through to him either, but I'm not thinking ye gave him anything but the notion we've no ground to stand on when we say he was wrong to 'punish' people himself."

"What's needed," Forge shot back, "is to ensure that this doesn't happen again! Not to anyone! I figured maybe if he knew what it felt like to be a victim, to be the one without control, to be the one afraid - maybe something might get through. Was there a desire for revenge? Yeah, I'll admit it. I wanted him to hurt. I still do. I think he deserves it. Does that make me a bad person?" He cocked his head at Rahne, any trace of humor gone from his expression. "Maybe. The funny thing is? I'm perfectly okay with that. Yeah, what I did was wrong. Brings me down to his level, I've heard all the platitudes. But until it's you not knowing who you are when you look in the mirror? Until it's your best friends tortured just because some freak wants to be in control? Don't you stand there and tell me about right and wrong."

"Right and wrong are not for when everything's easy!" Rahne said, and the growl in her voice told her that she'd started shifting. She forced herself back. "And they're not just for people who assume everyone else cares about them. If knowing some people -- like him -- think right and wrong don't matter means you start agreeing with them, I doubt there's anything much I can say that would matter to you any more." She turned away. "As I hear it, he already saw himself as the victim who'd taken up punishing the people who did things to him. So maybe ye made yuirself feel better, and maybe ye got the revenge ye wanted, but I'm not thinking ye taught him much. Maybe I can hope ye did. Meantime, I've got work to do."

Forge remained silent, pondering Rahne's words. "It matters," he finally said quietly, turning to go. "Maybe your way will get through to him better. I don't know. And right about now, I'm not going to expend the effort to care about him bettering himself. Let Marius know I'll bring him a sandwich this evening, will you?"

Rahne swallowed and lowered her head. She had to stop losing her temper. "I'll tell him," she said. The place on her arm where he'd last fed -- before they'd brought Masque in and discovered they needed someone else to wield his, because there was no way he'd fix everything -- was almost invisible by now. "Thanks for that. I'm sorry I yelled at you."

Forge shrugged. "It happens. If I got offended at every little disagreement, I wouldn't have a friend left in this place. I... I know we don't look at a lot of things in the same way, this being a good example. But it doesn't mean I don't respect your point of view." His conversation with Mr. Summers was still fresh in his head, reminding him that while he might be more intelligent than the rest of his classmates, that was only good for so much, and moral debates definitely fell outside that realm. "Better hurry up before Dr. Voght realizes my shift's up and she needs a new target to unleash hell upon."