Scott and Crystal, Monday morning // Scott and Haller, Monday afternoon

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Upon Crystal's return to the mansion, she goes to Scott's office for the promised talk with the headmaster. Scott has a few questions to ask Crystal, and some things to tell her that she may not have thought of on Friday. Then he gets to play disciplinarian. Crystal takes it all rather well.


Crystal sat in Scott's office, silently looking at him. She had tried to keep certain thoughts out of her head while she had been away from the school, but she knew something would happen when she returned. Being called into the headmaster's office was one of the conclusions she had reached.

Scott gazed back at her steadily, part of him glad that they had all had the weekend to think things over."All right," he said calmly. "Perhaps you'd like to tell me what happened in more detail."

Crystal returned Scott's gaze, looking straight at him. "Do you really want me to tell you things I am sure you already know all about? Surely you have already been informed of what occured on Friday."

"I'm not in the habit of asking rhetorical questions, Crystal." There was no edge to his voice, just a calm patience.

Crystal sighed slightly. "Oh, I understand. You want to hear my side of the story, my point of view. For no reason that I can conceive of, Logan insulted me to my sister's face. He kept at it and wouldn't stop. Among other things, he said that I do not fit in here and that I am a liability to my family. This is not the first time that he has done something like this, but it is one thing to be nasty to me about me, and another thing entirely to speak to my sister about it on a whim. I went to speak to him, he continued to be nasty, and I... I figured I would show him that I am not as defenseless as he insinuated I am."

"Does the fact that he didn't believe you capable of looking after yourself stand at the top of the list of reasons you have to be angry with him?" Scott raised an eyebrow at her. "I'm trying to understand your reaction."

"He does not know how to treat students the proper way," Crystal replied. "He was rude to me. He was rude to my sister. He insulted us. He is not the only teacher to have done so, but Ms. Dane apologized to us right away, and she was only rude one time to each of us. It has been very different with Logan. Until Medusa told me what he said to her, I believed we had reached an understanding. I was shocked to discover that, no matter what I do, he continues to hate me." She stared at Scott. "The things he said should never be said to a student or about a student to a member of her family."

"I agree," Scott said simply. "His behavior was entirely inappropriate and frankly, disgraceful. As well as highly irresponsible."

"I know that my actions were not proper," Crystal replied after a moment. "I have made no attempt to hide what I did." Still, she wasn't quite sure what else she could have done, other than ignore the situation completely, and what would that have accomplished?

"No. I know you haven't." There was that, and Scott wasn't sure, but he thought that it might have been more reassuring if she had. As unbelievable as Logan's actions had been... Scott realized his jaw was clenching again, and made an effort to smooth his expression. "I want to ask you something, Crystal," he said, just as calmly. "How much do you know about healing factors?" Before she could answer, he went on. "Do you know that there are different types of healing factors, with varying levels of effectiveness? Some people with that mutation can heal some things, but not others. Some heal very quickly, and some don't."

Crystal frowned slightly. "I was under the impression that he could heal quickly, and from anything. I was not trying to hurt him. I would not have done what I did had I thought that I was capable of actually harming him." Mr. Summers wasn't trying to tell her that she could have hurt him, was he? Is that what he thought, that she would actually use her powers with the intent of harming someone?

"Even the most effective of healing factors have limits." Strangely, what that brought to mind was Anika after Youra, not Logan. "Do enough damage, or the right type of damage, and sometimes they can't keep up. Sometimes certain types of damage don't heal, or don't heal properly. One of the things I will want you to do after this," he said quietly, "is have a talk with Doctor MacTaggart when she's back here this weekend, about this. Given her expertise, she's the best one to be able to explain to you just how dangerously foolhardy it was for you to assume that nothing you did would have lasting effects."

Crystal stared at Scott. "Are...are you saying that I actually hurt him? That cannot be...he rushed at me, pinned me to a wall with his claws! It was not my intention to do anything more than a bit of choking. That sounds bad, I know, but I did not mean to do anything that would cause permanent harm."

"I suppose that's an answer to my question." Scott sighed, fingers tapping restlessly on the edge of his desk. "I'm serious about the session with Moira. For you to have made a decision like that thinking you did in fact know for sure, when you didn't, is as clear a indication as I need that you need some additional mutation-related education."

Crystal wasn't quite sure what was going on. She hadn't meant to do anything that would cause serious harm, even to someone without a healing factor, not at first anyway. The lightning strike, well, he had been charging at her with that crazy look in his eyes. Crystal had never attempted to do anything like try to keep someone from breathing before. She had done too much, hadn't she, without meaning to? "Do you want me to wait until the weekend to speak with Dr. MacTaggart, or would it be best for me to go ahead and speak with her?" Crystal asked questioningly. She really had to stop believing what the other students said, she had been sure that nothing could hurt Logan.

"The weekend will do. I'll get in touch with her on Muir, and she can set up an appointment with you for when she's back." He could almost imagine Moira's reaction to this. Like most scientists, she was not a fan of unfounded assumptions. "I'm almost as bothered by the fact that you resorted to violence to make your point, to be honest. Crystal... this isn't something cultural, is it? Would that have been the way you handled a similar situation on Attilan?" He needed to understand. Whether this was something she'd done in a temper, or whether they needed to be worried about her doing something similar if she was ever provoked on this scale again... "And don't," he said a bit sharply, "tell me that you would never have encountered a similar situation on Attilan. That was a serious question and I expect a serious answer."

"I already told you that I did not mean to harm him!" Crystal replied. "Honestly, my initial action was not meant as an assault. It was not premeditated, I did not walk into the gym planning on any sort of physical attack. I just wanted to speak with him, to understand why he said the things he said, but he continued to be rude. No, I would not have tried to do anything like this to anyone else who was cruel to me. Do you really think that he is the only one to say unkind things to me and to treat me in a horrid manner since my arrival here? Far from it, but I have never done anything to anyone else about it. As for Attilan... honestly, no, I would not have encountered a similar situation at home. My parents would not have allowed anyone like Logan to teach me." She leaned forward slightly. "If what you are asking is, have I ever hurt anyone in any way, the answer is yes, I have. Although it might not seem like it right now, I do not take my powers lightly, Mr. Summers, but if I need to I will defend myself."

For the first time in the conversation, Scott found himself wrestling down a flash of anger. Successfully, at least; it was important to be calm here, he knew, and he would be. "And you were defending yourself on Friday?" he asked very patiently, his expression never altering. "I saw the footage from the security system, Crystal. It looks to me like you were using your powers in a violent manner, to make a point. The fact that you don't seem to understand what a slippery slope you're on is deeply troubling. Lack of control over one's powers is one thing. Lack of control over one's temper is another."

Crystal shook her head. "No, I did not start off defending myself from a physical attack. I am truly sorry that I came to this. I...my time here has not been easy. People do not seem to believe this, but I have been trying very hard to make the best of my time here. You did not know me before I came to the school. I was not like this then. I would never have done anything like this before, I would never have even thought of such things had they not been suggested to me."

He was going to throttle Logan. He really was. Getting up, trying not to move too stiffly despite the fact that he was in a fair bit of pain today, Scott moved around the desk, pulling over one of the other chairs closer to Crystal's and then sitting back down. The smile he gave her was somewhat crooked.

"The question is what we do now," he said steadily. "Your parents were not happy, and justifiably so. They also wanted you to come back, despite what happened." He took a deep breath, letting it out on something close to a sigh. "It's more of a gesture of faith than we really deserve, all things considered. But I'm grateful for it. I've always preferred to have the chance to rectify a mistake and do better next time."

He went on, the patient tone never altering. "We are going to pass you out of beginning self-defense. With an A. If nothing else, you demonstrated very clearly that you could handle yourself. If you're interested in continuing self-defense work, by the way, Mr. Dayspring has volunteered to work with you. Frankly, he may be a very good person to help you further integrate your powers into self-defense techniques. He has a lot of experience in the area - and a much better teaching style than Mr. Logan."

Crystal stared at Scott. She had not been expecting such a reply. "I...yes, I am interested. I was..." Crystal was at a loss for words, having planned to inform Scott of her intention to leave the school, even though her parents wanted her to stay at the school. Not only that, she was getting an A? Yes, she had made her point, even if she had not done so in the best way. "I would like to work with Mr. Dayspring very much. Working on my powers with the teachers here, the ones who actually know how to teach properly, has been the best thing that happened to me since I came here." The only good thing to have come out of her time here, really. "This would be...one-on-one?"

She certainly hoped so, it wasn't something she wanted to advertise, but working in groups with newly manifested teenagers who had no concept of control drove her absolutely nuts. That was one of her problems, and Logan had been right about a few things; she didn't quite fit in. Crystal hadn't missed the looks a number of the students had given her when they realized her level of control.

"Most advanced self-defense is, yes." Scott was silent for a moment, to let her finish absorbing the idea. "Suffice to say, we've also got to talk about consequences for the choices that you did make. You'll have that talk with Doctor MacTaggart. I also want you to see Doctor Samson at least once to talk about what happened - whether it goes beyond that will be entirely up to you and to him. And," Scott went on, "you'll be grounded - as in, confined to school grounds, for the next month."

There went her planned "visit a different city every month" weekend trips. But being grounded for a month wasn't something that had ever happened to her before and actually sounded interesting. Crystal nodded. "Have the gym doors been replaced yet? I know I said I would pay for the damage, but I thought maybe I could help Mr. Marko with the doors them if they are still... not in perfect working condition."

"I'm not actually sure, Crystal." He'd had more pressing things than the doors on his mind this weekend. "Although one way or the other, if you wanted to speak to Mr. Marko, he would probably appreciate an apology for the damage to the house." Not to mention that he'll probably buy you a pony for beating up Logan. Scott's lips did not twitch. It was a close thing, but he managed to keep his expression steady.

"I will speak with him as soon as I can," Crystal told Scott. "Is there anything else I need to do right now in regard to this situation?"

He shook his head. "No. The Professor will likely want to speak to you, as well, but he'll be in touch himself as to where and when that will take place. As will Doctor Samson." He gazed at her for a long moment, then offered her a slight, pained smile. "I'd like," he said more softly, "to go back to Friday and redo that day, but unfortunately we have no one with time-traveling powers around here. I just wanted you to know how sorry I am. About what led to what happened, as well as the incident itself."

"Even if someone like Amanda could use her magic to turn back time," Crystal said, wondering whether or not Amanda was capable of such a feat, "it would not be responsible for me to ask someone to do this. What happened happened. Everything that happens to us becomes a part of us. My experiences here, good and bad alike, are now a part of who I am. I would not want to change that."

He felt like asking her if she really wouldn't have preferred that Friday hadn't happened, but there was probably no point to that. His expression of regret had apparently jolted her back into 'dignified young royal', and Scott knew better than to think that he was the person to be trying to pry behind that. That was something better left for Leonard, or maybe Moira, who was almost certainly going to wind up teaching Crystal a little more than The Wonderful World of Mutations 101.

He nodded, instead. "You can go," he said. "But Crystal-" Scott paused, meeting her eyes levelly. "Never again," he said very quietly. "I never want to see you back in this office after having used your powers violently against a teacher or a classmate. Or anyone at all, unless they're offering physical violence to you. Because if this happens again, whatever questionable logic you may use to justify your actions, the consequences are going to be much worse."

Crystal stood, meeting Scott's look with an intense one of her own. "You have my word, I will not do anything like this ever again. Again, I sincerely apologize for allowing myself to act in such a manner." With a nod to the headmaster, she turned and left the room. She wasn't sure what the days to follow would bring, but one thing was for sure...her time at the school would never be the same again.


Later, prior to heading to the hangar, Scott gets some fresh air and sunlight. Jim happens by, and the two of them do some fence-mending finally.


It was a substitute for the punching bag. That's what Scott told himself. He wasn't up to hammering on the heavy bag the way he could have a few months ago - and wasn't that a disturbing thought - but putting the basketball through the hoop over and over again had the same repetitive, soothing feel to it.

And it was one of those brilliant autumn days, cool and cloudless. He felt better, being out in the sun like this. Scott narrowed his eye and took yet another successful shot. "Hah," he muttered to himself. "So much for the lack of depth perception."

Heading back to the school from sketching by the lake, Jim couldn't have said exactly why he decided to head for the basketball court. Maybe it was getting his confidence back from Charles' approval, or knowing he'd been of use again in dealing with Yvette and Jennie. Or Scott and Ororo's consent that he even be allowed back on the staff to begin with. Maybe it was because after nearly two months of avoiding the other man it was simply time to stop.

It was immaterial, he supposed. Whatever his reasoning, when Jim saw who was playing he changed his course.

In deference to the fact that he was all too aware of the potential startle-reaction, Jim took care to drag the thick soles of his shoes against the concrete and wait for the basketball to actually leave the other man's hands before saying, "Hey, Scott. Nice shot."

Scott looked back over his shoulder, part of him startled - and part of him sardonically amused at the startlement - at who had just spoken to him. "My mutant powers of geometry compensate for the lack of depth perception," he said. "Jean said it had something to do with spatial awareness." It struck him as soon as the words were out of his mouth that maybe bringing Jean up, with Jim, wasn't such a good idea. Scott grimaced and went after the basketball. The telepath only smiled faintly. "I dunno, that's probably not all it is. I mean, Jack's supposedly got that telekinetic radar-sense but he can't hit the broadside of a barn. As the holes in Harry's wall can attest." He watched the other man kneel stiffly to scoop the rolling ball from the court. Jim had the impulsive urge to raise one hand to rub at the back of his head, as he so often did when he was nervous or embarrassed. His arms stayed firmly at his sides. "I want to apologize," he said.

That's nice, was the first thing that sprang to mind as a response. Scott pressed his lips together firmly, and thankfully, it didn't get out. "That's not necessary," he said, his back to Jim as he took another shot - and was successful, again. "You were going through a difficult time. And it's not as if you - or Jack - said anything that was actually untrue." It came out commendably neutral-sounding. "And in any case, you did apologize at the time."

Yeah, he apologized. Because for David apologizing is like breathing: happening constantly and a complete waste of oxygen.

Jim only studied Scott's face, his mismatched gaze not even flickering at the acid commentary of his own mind. He couldn't stop the thought from coming. But that doesn't mean it controls me.

"Jack doesn't lie," Jim said at last, "but that's not the same as speaking the truth. He deals with my problems by lashing out, and half a truth hurts more than none. Usually I'm the one he saves it for. I'm sorry it got to the point where I took it out on you."

Scott took another successful shot before he answered. "Are you?" he asked, almost casually, not looking at Jim as he went after the ball again. "If it was getting to that point, it was going to come out one way or the other. Frankly, it's probably better it was with me." His voice was dispassionate as he turned back to the basket, taking a badly off-angle shot - and making it, again. "You didn't tell me anything I didn't already know. I could have done without you thundering in like you did - I was a little jumpy that week - but I managed not to blast you in the face, so no harm done."

Jim shook his head. "I was in a bad place, and it is better that I got it out. But nothing justifies making yourself feel better at someone else's expense. Having a diagnosis of emotional problems doesn't make it acceptable. Maybe even less." Now Jim's head did travel up to rub the back of his head. "We're working on it. I don't want to repeat that experience. It should never have happened in the first place. But since it did . . . thanks for listening to me, and trying to help, even in spite everything. It did help. Truly."

Scott bent to pick up the ball again, wincing as he straightening up. He was tensing up or something, had to be; why else would the muscle aches be starting up in full sunlight like this? "I'm glad," he said flatly. "Expect that to be about the only time I try to give you advice on that particular subject."

"Yeah," Jim said quietly as he watched the other man's stiff, carefully controlled movements as the ball arced yet again, "I think that's probably for the best."

Jim understood the position he'd put Scott in -- knew how deep a betrayal it had to have been to have his private space invaded by someone he trusted, and at a time he'd needed it the least. That knowledge had cut at Jim even then. Which was, of course, why Jack had done it.

It was cold to put aside something the other man was so clearly not all right with, even now, but Jim had no choice. So much of his life had been spent consumed by remorse for things that could never be taken back -- not then, or then, or then. Self-loathing was a trap Jim had been caught in too many times before. He knew where that path led. Dr. Allen hawking blood into his trashcan and hearing a tooth tmp against the plastic. Fumbling for his wallet and Muir's contact information as he stumbled into that Scottish ER and almost scouring the remaining skin from his burned hand on edge of his jeans' pocket. Studying the bright white cast and mottled yellow and purple bruising of his naked torso reflected in the mirror after yet another telekinetic fit, and wondering how much longer it would be before Jack finally succeeded and beat them both to death.

No, Jim doesn't get a choice. Because if we don't move forward we'll tear ourself apart.

"I'll stop now," the telepath said to the other man's back. "I guess by the hundredth time 'sorry' means as much as it's ever going to. But I also just wanted to say thanks, for letting me back. You and Ororo both."

Scott's visible tension eased a little at Jim's words. Maybe it was cowardly of him, but he just didn't want to have to process that conversation of two months ago any more than he already had. He could write it off as one of those things that happened at Xavier's - with this many people involved in this many dangerous things, occasionally the stress bubbled out in unfortunate ways. More than occasionally.

But he just didn't want to think about the details. About a number of the things Jack had said. And really, wasn't it enough that Jim at least had gotten something out of that? It would have been a fairly miserable situation if it had been entirely unproductive.

He looked back over his shoulder with a slight smile, something fractionally closer to a normal expression. "Usually the counselors don't come back. It's kind of a novel experience. And I know the kids are probably glad to have you back at work - you'd done a lot of good work with a lot of them."

"I really did miss the job. It's like I'm crazy or something." Jim grinned, though the smile crept slightly nasty. "Though I'm glad to see the school draws the line somewhere. I may be the last person qualified to comment on mental stability, but even I draw the line at attacking sixteen year olds. Way to clear up the kid's issues with the school, Logan."

"Oh, lord, don't get me started..." Scott muttered, and took another shot. Yet another basket. This was getting dull. "Charles took the call to Attilan, thank God. I'm not sure either Ororo or I were up to attempting to apologize to aggrieved royals this weekend."

"No. I don't think that'd ever be a fun call." He wasn't even going to mention Kurt. The last few weeks had been bad enough without bringing up that, too. Jim looked at the other man's stiff, controlled movements and made a decision. "Um, hey, want an opponent? I'm not a very good one, but somehow people assume being freakishly tall automatically makes you a good player. I always did kind of want to know what I was supposed to be doing."

Scott gave him a quick measuring look, then shrugged, not quite diffidently. "Basketball as self-defense. There's a certain amount of irony in that."

"I think we can both agree there are worse things," Jim said with a slight smile, and lightly tossed his sketchbook to the pavement as he moved to join the older man.