Scott and Ororo, Monday evening

[x-cyclops.livejournal.com]

Scott arrives back at the mansion (not everyone got teleported back) and finds Ororo waiting for him. They talk about Shiro's situation and what happens, and Scott confesses that he's come to a realization of his own.


Scott broke into a brief fit of coughing as he got off his bike. He'd inhaled some smoke, he supposed. They all had. He had focused on getting the rest of the civilians out of the burning building once Ororo had let him know that the other three were safely back at the mansion, and as the emergency vehicles arrived, had wound up making a rather narrow escape from questions he really hadn't had any idea how to answer. Grimacing as he rubbed at his eye and his hand came away smudged with soot, he weighed the options. Check in on Shiro, or get a shower first?

Was it bad that he was leaning towards the latter?

"He is fine." Ororo's voice echoed across the garage, louder than she had thought it might. "All three are, though of course they are stuck in the infirmary for the time being." She pushed herself away from the doorjamb, checking Scott over for signs of injury as she approached him. "Thank the goddess, it seems you will not have to join them."

Scott's smile was faint and slightly bitter. "Well, given that the only thing I did was talk pointlessly at Shiro and keep a few drug dealers from burning to death, I'd hope I would be able to get out unhurt." He slid out of his jacket, grimacing again as he headed over to where Ororo stood. "And I'm assuming when you say 'fine' you mean in the 'not going to die anytime soon' sense of the word. I very much doubt that Shiro is 'fine'."

"Well... yes. That is what I meant," 'Ro amended, her lips pressed in a thin line. "He will recover."

"So, when do we-" Scott broke off, coughing again, this time a little more violently, half-doubling over. "Shit," he wheezed once he could talk again. "That's aggravating. Recovery's liable to be a tricky thing with him, 'Ro. You probably caught enough over the coms to figure out what happened."

Nodding, Ororo slipped a hand onto his arm, leading him out of the garage and towards the kitchen. "Yes, and Marie told me the rest. Perhaps we ought to consult with Amelia or another expert how best to go about helping him."

"We've got a really good track record at this school when it comes to addictions, had you noticed?" First Amanda and the magic, now Shiro and... whatever the hell this was. "This wasn't a first use," Scott said by way of explanation. "What he said, how he was acting..."

"How long, I wonder," 'Ro mused under her breath. She steered Scott into the kitchen and towards one of the stools around the island. "And are any of the other students using it as well?"

"I hope to hell not. I suppose we won't know what it is until Amelia tells us. Or Shiro himself." Scott sat down on one of the stools, shaking his head. "For fuck's sake, Ororo... one of the first things they get taught is how badly drugs can mess around with their mutations. I drill that into our energy-projectors' heads right at the outset."

"And yet it does not always sink in." 'Ro sighed, turning away to retrieve a bottle of water from the refrigerator. "Despite our best efforts, the students are still going to do things we do not want them to do. We have learned that time and again. And then they go and punish themselves worse than we ever could..."

"Shiro's not a student," Scott pointed out brusquely, taking the bottle with a nod of thanks. "Which makes our part in this harder and easier, I guess..." He took a long sip of the water before going on. It helped. At least his throat didn't feel quite so desert-like. "Important thing is for Amelia to get him through the immediate physical problems. We can help him deal with the rest later."

'Ro took a seat as well, tenting her fingers in front of her. "Of course, this means we have lost yet another member of the team..." She frowned, hating that this was one of the first things she thought of. "But as long as he recovers, that is all that matters."

Scott smiled rather mirthlessly. "You're not going to be happy to hear this," he said after a moment, "but even being there just to talk to Shiro... I'm not ready to be back in crisis situations yet." And the headspace where he could make effective decisions in that sort of a situation seemed like a galaxy away. It wasn't a surprising realization, but he hadn't expected to wind up in a situation where it got pointed out to him quite that starkly.

"Oh, Scott." "Ro shook her head, summoning a smile for him. "That is fine. Of course. Do not worry about that."

"I can't help but worry, 'Ro. It's not like there's anything physically wrong with me." He'd gone down this past week, cautiously, and asked Amelia to run a couple of tests. Apparently there was no physical reason for the pain he was still having. Psychosomatic. Of course. Because I am, how do we say, 'messed up in the head'. "Part of me feels like a shirker, but I know I wouldn't be any good in the field." Not giving orders, not even taking them. He didn't trust his decision-making ability, and he didn't know how to fix the obvious problems there.

"Then there is no point in fretting. You will come back when you are ready." If you are ready. Ororo smiled again and reached out for the tiny, chicken-shaped salt shaker. "Give it time. You did very well today, you should be proud."

"I should be proud? I didn't talk him down, did I?" But Scott shook his head almost immediately, taking another sip from the water bottle. "Wasn't going to happen," he said with another bitter little smile. "Realistically. I suppose we should be glad that no one got seriously hurt and leave it at that."

"Sometimes that is all we can do," Ororo said, with none of her usual calm optimism. "And hope next time is different."

"'Ro..." Scott leaned slightly towards her, his expression level, yet angry. Not at her, but at the situation in general. Like hell he was going to sit here and watch her doing precisely the same sort of thing he'd used to do to himself. "I don't want you blaming yourself for this. It's been a hell of a summer, and you've been trying to do my job as well as yours for the last month. Trust me when I say 'How did I miss that?' is the most futile and destructive question in the world, too." His lip curled, in disgust that was entirely self-directed. Funny how some things became so clear.

Ororo pushed the tiny ceramic chicken away, almost intimidated by the level of self-loathing she saw in Scott's face. "I will still always wonder 'what if'," she murmured, shaking her head. "I do not want one of our students to suffer because of my own inadequacies. To think of what he must now go through... I wish it had happened some other way."

"All we can do is try and help him now," Scott said. It was all anyone could ever do. The thought didn't provoke the usual rush of futile frustration, just slightly angry resignation. That was the way it was... the way their world was, and no one was going to change that. No point breaking your heart trying. "He'll need it, I think. I just wish we knew how this happened..."

"One of us will speak with him. We need to find out the details, so that we can prevent this from happening in the future. We need to protect our students, to keep them safe..." A worried expression settled over Ororo's features as she pondered, not for the first time, how exactly parents stayed sane for eighteen years of rearing children.