Kaiten: Isolation

[x-cyclops.livejournal.com]

Scott's week has been profoundly uneventful, all things considered.


As armored chambers designed to keep mutants from blowing up and taking the building with them went, Scott had decided early on in the week that his isolation room really wasn't that bad. They'd made some effort to provide a few amenities. He was after all here voluntarily, not as a prisoner. Even if the door was locked.

It had gotten harder and harder to keep up the semi-cheerful front, through the week. Mostly because he was feeling worse and worse. Friday morning - at least, he thought it was Friday - found him stretched out on the cot, staring up dully at the ceiling, too headachey and feverish to try and distract himself any other way. Reading was out of the question.

Jean was exhausted. There was no way around that, really. She spent every moment going over the test results, discussing with Moira and Hank, banging her head against the strictures of the government staff and, throughout all of it, either keeping her mental walls high enough that Scott couldn't see her fear or simply forcing faith on herself. And the faith was starting to wear out, fast.

She could feel how much strain Scott was under and, given how much effort he put in to looking cheerful, the least she could do was project hope when she went to visit him - the first few nights they'd let her sleep in the containment room with him, but she didn't sleep that much these days anyways, so it wasn't such an issue that the other doctors had forbidden it. Jean wasn't even sure if Scott knew it was forbidden, since she'd truthfully told him that her sleeping was so erratic she didn't want to bother him with her comings and goings everytime a new test result came in. Now, standing outside the door, she did her best to smile and knocked.

Only Jean knocked. The government staff didn't bother, and had a nasty way of looking at him like a lab rat that was going to turn around and bite them at any moment. He'd gotten into the habit of letting them take blood and other readings as they wanted and tuning them out otherwise. Scott took a deep breath and sat up, ignoring the way his head spun and his stomach lurched as he swung his feet over the edge of the bed and raised a hand in a half-hearted wave at Jean through the one small portal in the highly armored door.

Even as she keyed in the locking code, Jean wondered who they thought they were fooling with the containment room. She'd seen Hank's numbers. Given the level they'd extrapolated from the prior bombings, and the increased strength they were reading these days, an explosion fueled by Scott's mutation would more than likely eradicate not only the building, but at least a five square mile area around them, armored room or no. And those were the low numbers. But the door was finally swinging its ponderous way open and she put those thoughts out of her head - she didn't get enough time with him as it was, she was damned if she was going to spend what she did have worrying. Not today.

"Hey," she said, slipping inside as the door began to close immediately behind her. "You don't have to get up, love." She crossed to his side, resting a cool hand on his feverish cheek.

Scott mustered up a faint smile. "Oh, good. I do hate the faceplanting crap - terribly hard on my dignity." He reached up and took her hand as she lowered it. "You've been mainlining coffee again today. I can tell. You've got that wild-eyed look going."

"Who knew I'd ever willingly make Moira's coffee? At least the federal boys don't try to steal it. Well, at least, not after the first time." Holding onto his hand, she sat down next to him, bitting at the inside of her lips as she took in the deeper circles under his eyes. Even when he rested it didn't seem to help.

"Smart federal boys. I think it takes a medically-minded redhead to be able to stomach the stuff without having it eat through your stomach." Scott leaned back against the wall, a sigh slipping out. "I feel.... you know what I feel like? I feel like August." It struck him as soon as he said it that it maybe wasn't such a kind thing to say, given that when he'd been feeling this crappy in August, she hadn't been here. He gave her hand a quick, apologetic squeeze. "I was... I hurt every time it was dark. Like something was out of whack. That's what this feels like."

August. Another time when she hadn't been there. Another time when she couldn't help. How much of their time together had she been responsible for stealing? For taking away from him? And she couldn't think about this, not now. Instead, she nodded faintly. "I can't even tell if the low spectrum bulbs they've got in here are helping or hurting that anymore. Your... the readouts aren't very comprehensible all the time." Which was a nice way of saying they had no idea how this change was done or what the changes all meant individually.

"You'll figure it out." It was an automatic reply. "You and Moira and Hank..." Although he was glad the other two were working remotely, and not here in the flesh. He would have to talk to Jean, before long, about doing the same.

She smiled, nodding again, trying to keep positive. If she'd known what was going on in his mind, she'd have wanted to hit him. Not that it wasn't becomming a common topic outside the safe room - possibly moreso because it was. The federal doctors had given up on the idea of getting her to withdraw to a more remote location after she'd made it clear they would have to drug her to do it.

Behind the glasses, Scott's eyes drifted closed again. Sitting upright or not, he was just not... on speaking terms with continuous consciousness lately. He didn't let go of her hand, though. "Hate the lack of sun," he murmured. "Know I have to be in here, but... I just hate it."

"I know, love. I wish there was something I could do to help." Jean blinked rapidly, forcing the tears which hovered behind her eyes not to fall. Hopelessness was not something Jean had a lot of experience with, and it was somehow more trying than outright fear or anger. Both of which were also playing a big part in her thoughts these days.

Another squeeze of her hand. "You're doing everything you can." Scott's expression, despite the lines of pain, was oddly calm. Almost serene. Not resigned, just serene. There wasn't any need to fight, not just yet, and he was saving his strength for when that moment came.

Jean leaned over, pressing a kiss to his hand and taking the opportunity to breathe deeply. "And we're going to keep doing everything we can. There's no giving up here, and there is no failing. I swear."

"I believe you." His smile, despite his words, was very slightly sad.