xp_logs | Scott and Logan - Raising a Hand

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Logan goes to see Scott to get his side of the story after their conversation on the journals. Neither man is willing to bend to see the viewpoint of the other.

Logan had made sure to take a little time to walk away from his laptop, take a couple of deep breaths, drink a beer or two before going to find Scott. You'd think he would have learned by now, but no. He just had to go ahead and tell Scott off just so everyone else could shit on him. But he wasn't gonna sit on this one - the thought of a man raising a hand to his wife made his blood boil. And he wasn't real inclined to listen to Scott talk circles around him, to justify pasting one on Jean. But on he trudged down to Scott's office anyway.

Well, at least he'd gotten Logan to knock it off on the journals, Scott thought, shutting off his laptop and closing it. The team as a whole didn't need the sideshow, although he'd make the same offer to any of them who wanted to take him up on it. Fair was fair, and there were bigger issues at work here.

Logan knocked on Scott's door like he was trying to punch a hole in the door. For once, he didn't have a stogie lit or a beer anywhere on him. He just stood there in his flannel and jeans, waiting for Scott to answer the door.

Yeah, Scott thought, getting up to open it. I can tell this is going to be fun already. "If you'd taken me up on this earlier, you wouldn't have the probability manipulator pissed off at you," he observed, turning back not towards his desk, but towards one of the armchairs by the window.

"Like I give a shit." Logan said, stepping into Scott's office and settling into an easy parade-rest. "I just want to know one thing. Tell me what justifies hittin' Jean. What thought crossed your brain, what impulse drove you to hit your own wife. That's all I really want to know. Everyone else is just talkin' shit. As usual."

"Because I was a few hours from exploding and wiping out everything in a five-block radius," Scott said, sitting down, "and she wouldn't leave."

"She can throw the Space Shuttle into orbit with her brain. She's blocked you before. Try again." Logan said, still staring straight forward, not looking at Scott.

"You would have wanted her there? Right there, watching me explode? Even if she could have survived?"

"She's a strong telekinetic and a doctor. We had the cure and were in-route." he said, still staring straight ahead. His nostrils were flared with the effort of suppressing his own feelings, however.

"We didn't know that."

"You never bothered to check in with your field team, get a sitrep." he said, trying not to clench his teeth. "And because she cared about you, was willing to stay with you right until your supposed end, you hit her." he said. "You gonna teach that one to the rookies? How to Evade A Team-Mate 101?"

"Logan, I'd had a 105 degree temperature for two days. I was locked in a containment room, and the energy overload was frying my brain," Scott said, a bit coolly. "As Jean and the Professor and a number of other people have taken pains to point out to me, I was not making rational decisions at that point." Even if he still thought there was a sort of logic to it.

Logan refused to look at Scott, to engage him directly. He was busy fighting off the irrational surge of very real anger. "You. Hit. Your. Wife." he said with punctuation. "I don't want to hear about your fucking fever. I don't want to hear about your goddamned despair. You gave up. You quit. Threw in the towel. Tried to crawl off to die."

Scott rose, turning towards Logan. "I," he said, his voice still cold, each word carefully enunciated as he went on, "was not going to let them use me as a weapon, even an unintentional one, to kill more people. If you don't understand that, Logan... well, you're being willfully blind, because you're pissed off that I hit Jean. Which is fair, because I'm pissed off at myself for hitting Jean." Even if they'd both done worse to each other sparring.

"Guess that makes it all better." he said, still staring straight ahead. "You're pissed off at yourself for hitting Jean." he reiterated.

"You know, your morality's an awfully flexible thing," Scott said, a bit bitterly. "Lets you be a judgemental ass when it comes to everyone but yourself. Do you want to hit me?" he asked, before Logan could respond. "You certainly seemed to, given that you jumped the conclusion that I was inviting you to beat the crap out of me. Would that somehow make you feel better?" He didn't say a word about Jean having hit him in the infirmary. That wasn't any of Logan's business, that little detail. "If you ask me, the fact that you think the woman who can throw the space shuttle into orbit with her brain needs you to defend her honor is pretty fucking insulting."

"This isn't about her." he said. "I don't hold with a man who hits his wife. I don't care if his wife is 90 and in a nursing home or if she can throw the Shuttle into orbit, has a MD, and is a amateur commando. You do not hit your spouse unless she strikes first." Logan said stiffly. "And that ain't exactly the case here."

Scott looked at him for a moment, then shrugged. "Then we're done," he said, "because you're not going to bend, and I'm not going to abase myself asking for your forgiveness. It's not yours that matters to me. You can go right on regarding me as an abusive son of a bitch who beat up his wife. In your eyes, I am." Scott started to turn away. "But those who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones, Logan. I knocked her out trying to save her life. What have your reasons been, for hurting people?"

"About the same as yours. But I'm not married to any of them." he said, turning on his heel to walk out of Scott's office.

Current Mood: discontent
Current Location: Scott's Office