Scott and Garrison, Scott and Jean, Monday

[x-cyclops.livejournal.com]

As promised, Garrison brings Scott some food and they have a chat - not so much about the goings-on in Hawaii, given the resolution there, but a productive chat nonetheless.


Garrison set the bag of food down with a thump on the console, jarring Scott a little. He'd been intent on the screen, not hearing the younger man come in. Another bag followed, and Garrison leaned over to rummage through it, pulling out two cups of coffee and handing one over to Scott.

"I got these at the office canteen. Believe it or not, they've got a former Navy cook in charge, so it's the stuff with three times the caffine they use on the ships. The Starbucks on the corner is going broke." Kane grinned as he grabbed the seat beside him, still wearing his suit with the office ID clipped to the lapel. He pulled a container and a pair of chopsticks from the bag. "Dim sum?"

"Sure. I think I missed lunch." Scott took the container and chopsticks from Garrison with a nod of thanks, but it was only a moment before his eyes flickered back to the screens. There were several newsfeeds going simultaneously, and a few of the screens were cycling periodically to others. "Nothing new. Just footage of the relief efforts and speculative commentary." Scott shook his head. "Why I didn't sneak more of the X-Men into the state with RedX... it's not like most of us haven't done that at one point or another."

"Depends. You don't want one of your team ending up the feature disaster relief unsung hero story of the week." Garrison dipped his dumpling deftly and bit down on it. "Besides, seems like the main work is already done. I hear they found your brother?"

Scott nodded again, and if his jaw was visibly tight, his expression was otherwise composed. He looked more tired than anything else. "Deeply involved in the whole mess, from what I was told. Color me all different shades of completely unsurprised..." He glanced sideways at Garrison. "You have a younger sister, right? Is she a trouble magnet?"

"Depends. No taste in men whatsoever, but she's also smarter than you, me, and the next five people put together. Besides, pointing out that your brother is a Mountie to some drunk prick in the bar tends to deflate them pretty quick." He grinned around his dumpling. "There are some priviliages to the badge."

Kane swallowed and went on. "Your brother, Alex, right? Used to go here, dated the cook? That the one we're talking about?"

"Yeah, that's Alex. He went out to Hawaii for college." Scott smiled a bit humorlessly. "Alex didn't approve of the X-Men. Having a fiancee and a brother risking their life on a regular basis did not sit well with him." Scott rubbed at the scars on the side of his face for a moment, then turned his attention to his dim sum.

"Hey, I don't know if I approve of the X-Men yet." Garrison said with a laugh, swallowing some of his coffee. He had been quiet about his reservations, but never anything other than honest. "It's hard, knowing people around you are putting themselves into danger. The cop spouse? You have to have that kind of mindset or it just breaks you apart, I think. In Alex' case, I wouldn't be surprised if he blames you a little because he doesn't get a choice in it. I know Vikks had the same problem, especially after Mom died."

"It's hard for us because we weren't raised together, I suppose," Scott said. "He was adopted after our parents were killed - I wasn't. Mostly because he was a perfectly healthy and rather cute little kid, and I was a comatose newly manifested mutant, but in any case..." He cracked a very slight smile, shaking his head. "It's only been a few years since we got back in contact with each other, so there's that to add into the mix, too." The dim sum wasn't bad. "And it goes both ways. I'll be much happier when he's back here and Amelia can make sure he's all right-" Garrison could read the inevitable team report. "-but that may take a few days."

"Speaking of all right," Garrison said while he opened another container. He needed a lot of food to support his frame and mutation. "I talked to Duncan. I know it's after the fact now, but as long as he gets to oversee the material that we want first, he doesn't see a reason on a case-by-case basis the Bureau would complain. I know that some people might question the need, especially since you've got Cerebro, but up in Canada, identifying mutants that have somehow missed detection and registration before they manifest, we often use techniques not unlike you use for a missing person to get to them. Times like this, it's a good resource to have, especially if the Cerebro doesn't pan out. And there isn't an agency in the world with more missing persons experience then the FBI."

"Then the next time we have a situation like this, let's see how that works," Scott said. "Although, we've worked with, or perhaps for Fred quite a bit, so I'm not foreseeing a problem. There are going to be relatively few cases like this where Cerebro doesn't pan out, but it doesn't hurt to cover the bases." He sipped at his coffee. "We've amassed enough good will over the last year or so, may as well use some of it."

"I'm a big believer on not relying on the unique technological toy myself. I've seen too many of Mac Hudson's, well, blow up to trust them, eh." Garrison nodded, leaning back to take in a bit of the screen while sipping his coffee. "Oh, reminds me. You got any rough estimates on when I'm supposed to go 'active' or whatever? I have to send in a report this week, and I've about beaten all the solo and pairs stuff you guys have in the training library. Unless you want me to teach other people, I don't see being able to go any further without training with the team as a whole."

"If you're here over the holiday, we can get the last formalities looked after." Scott was perfectly aware of the progress Garrison had been making, although he had been tempted to throw a Kobayashi Maru scenario into the training mix for the other man, just to see how he reacted. Time enough for that later. "And because you brought me dim sum, I'll ask Jean to do your physical instead of leaving you to Amelia's not-so-tender mercies. You're stuck with tea with Charles for the psych eval, though."

"I actually like Earl Grey. Besides, after being psych-evaluated about a thousand times at this point, I think I'll use the time to bombard him with question instead. The genetic counselers back at Department H were jealous that I was going to work one on one with the Charles Xavier. I'm expecting booby traps on my next visit." Kane nodded. He was starting to get a little frustrated at the mansion, just because his duties there, and with the team, and with the FBI had all been mostly overseeing things, which for a person like him, who liked to be a part of doing things, had been a bit of torture.

"You're in a somewhat odd sort of position," Scott said, his gaze back on the screens. "We haven't had someone like you come in for a while -someone who's had previous training, I mean. The adjustment process is always a little... different in these cases. How's your database-reading going?" The question was abrupt, the tone of it very different, almost sharp. He had given Garrison full access to the mission files. Even if he wasn't precisely a trainee, the various reports were still the best way to give him a fast grasp on not just what the X-Men were about, but his teammates, too.

"Pretty much done. You guys are no where near as boring as police statements." Garrison said. Despite the fact that he rarely seemed to take much seriously, he was a professional, and he'd been in training almost as long as most of the older X-Men. "It's been intriguing seeing how you set up training. You've got the best physical plant I've ever seen, and your power training is completely off the charts. At the same time, a lot of your physical training has been really only coming together over the last couple of years. I'm guessing that when you got the experience depth of, what, Dayspring?"

"It's been a combination of factors. If I wanted to be simplistic about it, I'd say that we had to adapt to the range of situations we've found ourselves faced with over the last couple of years." Scott smiled a bit faintly. "But yes, Nate's been a great resource since we started having to be soldiers from time to time, too. Personally, I prefer the missions where we get to do relief work, or work with the police... the SWAT team in Rio were very nice. They wanted to take us out for drinks, I remember."

"Hey, I think you guys have done very well, especially without any real formal structure or experience to start. I mean, I was trained by the Canadian army and the RCMP. Groups with over a hundred years of experience, instructors with forty years behind them." Kane gestured with his chopsticks. "You can't just recreate that, not in just a few years. Hell, police work alone requires a whole culture in place. It's an impressive feat how far along this is."

"Nine years," Scott said. "Or eight, really... that's our institutional history. I have to remind myself of that from time to time. Of course we're not going to be ready for everything that could come up, although I think we learn from each experience fairly effectively. That's why I insisted on all the evaluation and cross-evaluation." He mustered up another tired smile. "We'll get you training with people who aren't Marie or Logan promptly, in any case."

"Yeah, I'm about ready to graduate from the school of having Logan beat the hell out of me now." Garrison grinned. "Although, training with Marie does give me the excuse to slap her ass on a regular basis, which is something that I do so love. The team training would be good. Based on the sheer throw weight of some of your team, I'm not likely going to sit on your A bench in terms of firepower, but I do bring a lot to the table in the sheer physical realm."

"Flexibility's the key. When we get you into full training, expect the occasional scenario where you have to cope with the firepower deficit." There was a brief spark of evil in Scott's real eye. "If I wanted to be cruel, I could throw you into an adversarial scenario with one of the telekinetics and see how you do. Oh, wait, no, I was saving that idea for Logan. As Nate's Christmas present."

"As long as there's a point. I've done all the 'grind down your arrogance through painful loss' training regimens already." Garrison pointed out. "The Danger Room is a fun toy. Really impressive environment to work in, especially from a multidisciplinary view of it."

"There's always a point. Don't listen to the others if they claim I'm just being sadistic - there's always a way out, and there's always a solution somewhere in the variables. The two are not always the same thing." Scott caught himself yawning. "Augh. More coffee, I think..." He reached back out for the cup. "I haven't had enough sleep these last few days."

"Not surprising. Look, go take a nap or something. I'll keep an eye on the comms. I'm still pretty fresh. Anything happens, I'll come wake you. Otherwise, I'll give you a buzz in a couple of hours." Kane pointedly collected Scott's cup. "If I end up having to face your wife while training, I'd rather not give her the excuse to telekinetically remove the twig and berries."

"Yes, let's not tempt her." Before Scott got up, though, he leaned over to the console, switching one of the screens over to a database view. "New tactical review," he said, calling it up. "If the newsfeeds remain boring, feel free to give it a go. Since you're fresh and all." He rose. "And contrary to the running joke, you don't necessarily have to answer the emergency line with 'X-1-1.'"

"Really? I was planning to say they'd reached the Canadian Embassy and ask what the call is all aboot, eh?"

--


Later, Scott finally lets the mask slip with Jean.


Scott rubbed at his jaw, studying his reflection in the bathroom mirror. The unshavenness was one thing. The dark circles under his eyes were another entirely. No wonder he'd been getting sidelong looks in the hall these last couple of days.

"Maybe I should just grow a beard," he said, loudly enough for Jean to hear him out in the bedroom.

"The scruff, it burns," came the reply. "You grow a beard and I'm... well, kicking you out of the bed really isn't feasible. I'll just shave you in your sleep, and I make no promises to stop with the beard." Distraction by way of lame jokes. Time honored tradition it was.

"Give me until the morning," Scott murmured, flipping off the light and coming back out into the bedroom. "I'll shave then, I promise. At least I've been showering." The corner of his mouth tugged upwards in what might have been a smile under any other circumstances. "If not, you really would have had an excuse to kick me out of the bed."

"I can live with the scruff till then, I guess." Turning away from her dresser, she smiled faintly at him. "It's almost to the bit where it gets soft and fuzzy, even."

She was wearing one of his shirts again. He had missed the shirt-stealing. Scott managed another faint half-smile back as he went around to his side of the bed and laid down, tossing the covers back negligently. "I have no idea why he won't come home right now," he said shortly.

"Because he's a Summers and you all have more stubbornness than sense," Jean replied, sitting on the other side of the bed and reaching over to run her fingers through his hair. "Your grandmother tells me your grandfather is just the same."

"I wasn't about to insist otherwise. Like I'm going to interfere with him making his own choices after he's been-" Scott's jaw tightened. "Again." If Lorna had been in the room at that moment, it would have been very clear to her that Scott's lack of visible worry had in fact been covering his real emotions, as in that single word he somehow managed to combine relief, lingering anxiety, a bleak sort of humor at the irony of the situation - and beneath it all, a deep anger that wasn't directed at Alex, or Jean, or anyone in particular.

Jean nodded, well aware that, while it wasn't directed at her, she was involved in the anger. She knew how much it ate at him to be unable to help when she and Alex were in trouble, and knew just how futile it was insisting that he -had- helped. He simply counted up the hourse and days which he hadn't, and weighted the scale against himself. So, rather than reply, she lay down next to him, curling up on her side so she could see him.

His gaze shifted to her, rather than the ceiling, and there wasn't even the faintest trace of guilt on the link, not as there might have been six months ago. It, and the look in his eye, were utterly clear, almost fiercely so. "Will you talk to him with me, when he does get back?" he asked. "If it's necessary, I mean. If he really does need convincing that he's got to do something to stop winding up in situations like this."

"Of course." There was no hesitation in her voice. A voice in the back of her head pointed out that they were both prime examples of how training didn't stop them ending up in bad situations, but that wasn't the point. The fact that they were both better able to handle those situations was. "Do you think it will be?"

"I don't know. I hope not. Alex has got to be getting tired of history repeating itself at this point." He'd recruit Shiro to help, too, if it became necessary. If it wasn't, so much the better. "He's never going to have the normal life he wants. I left it alone, you know, because I knew he needed to learn that on his own. I just wish it didn't have to be so hard for him."

Jean sighed. "It should be possible," she said, a hint of defeat in her voice. "I wish I could make it possible for him, for all of them."

"It's too late for most of us." It sounded very cold, but it was only the truth. "Maybe it'll be different for Rachel's generation, but only if we make it different. That means not pretending that we can ignore what we are."

"Some manage it," Jean said, sounding sad. "I think that's what makes it hardest for those of us who can't. Whose mutations are too visible, or too unstable, or for whatever reason." Once upon a time Jean could have, but after so many years of being associated with Xavier's now, even if she wanted to, it wouldn't really be possible.

"Trying to pass has its risks, too. Secrets have a habit of coming out, and while I'm not quite cynical enough to think that the reaction is always going to be negative... well, sometimes it will be." Scott rubbed at his eye, then sighed. "Would you listen to me. Why are we talking mutant politics?"

"Yes, but sometime it won't be passing. It won't be hiding what you are, it'll just be being yourself and not having people assume." Jean arched an eyebrow at him. "And we are who we are. The topic is a tad bit central to our lives..."

He reached up and pressed his fingers briefly to her lips before she could go on. "We are who we are," he repeated, sounding tired. "No matter where you go, there you are, etc, etc, ad nauseum."

Reaching up she caught his hand before he could pull it away, kissing the finger. "All right, I'll stop with the cliches."

Scott's expression softened. He looked like he was about to say something, but then paused, his voice softer as well when he finally spoke. "He's all right," he said, "and I suppose that's what counts, in the end." Amazingly, it didn't come out sounding like he was trying to convince himself.

Jean smiled, curling in closer to Scott and sliding an arm around him. "I think so, yes. After that, it's just details. Sometimes they're important details, but they can be dealt with."

"I'll still be happier when he's home," Scott said with a sigh, putting an arm around Jean in return and closing his eyes. It had been a struggle to stay calm, these last few days. But he'd done it - he'd handled the not knowing, the helplessness, and now that it was over and Alex was okay... his train of thought drifted off the track and he let it.

"Me, too."