xp_logs | Angelo, Amanda, Scott and Cain

Angelo's response to the news of what happened in Chechnya is a little too direct.

He really, really didn't want to be here. Scott brought the car to a stop just down the block from Trask's house, staring hard at the building in question. He was tired, still somewhat hungover, black and blue in more places than he liked to think - as usual, you always felt worse the day after you jumped from an exploding car - and the very last thing he wanted to be doing was retrieving one of his X-Men from a potentially hostile situation involving the people who'd been responsible for all the mess this week in the first place.

But then Charles was in his mind, relaying what he'd sensed in the house, and Scott sighed, letting his head rest against the steering wheel for a moment in relief. "All right, we're clear," he said to Amanda and Cain. "Charles says there's no sign of Trask or Saidullayev in the vicinity, and just Angelo in the house. Now all we have to do is get him out of there before a neighbor tips off the police or something."

Cain folded himself uncomfortably out of the back seat, shading his eyes and looking down the street. "Well, nothing's on fire, so I suppose that's a plus. Let's go get our boy Don Quixote, yeah?"

For her part, Amanda had been quiet on the drive, the determined chewing of her thumbnails a pretty clear indication of her less than calm state of mind - she'd found herself wishing she'd been able to drive, since it would have saved her cuticles. Torn between desperate worry and simmering anger, she undid her seatbelt with an abrupt motion, and opened the door. "I still can't believe he did this," she muttered to herself. Then she straightened, forcing herself into 'work' mode. "Front or back? Either way, we probably want to make this quick and quiet."

"Back," Scott muttered and led the way. As they got closer to the house, the occasional muffled crash was audible, and Scott winced, eyeing his watch. Although given they weren't sure when Angelo himself had gotten here, predicting police response times probably wouldn't help.

It was obvious that Angelo, as well, had gone in the back door. Thank goodness he thought at least a little... Scott paused at the door, then eyed Amanda.

"You go first," he said. "He's possibly a little more likely to listen to you, and I'd prefer not to have to drag him out by the ear."

"And what makes you think I won't do that?" she replied, a little caustically. Pulling her sleeve over her hand, she pushed open the slightly-ajar door. "You might want to wipe that off in case he didn't think about prints," she pointed out. "His are probably on record from LA, and the last thing anyone needs is to explain to the boys in blue why an employee of Elpis was breaking and entering." Another crash, and she added. "As well as criminal damage."

"And I don't suppose they'd take 'because he's a damn fool' as an explanation," Cain quipped, ducking his head to look inside. "Angelo!" he barked, the sound carrying through the house, "get your dumb ass out here, boy!"

"I'm not DONE YET", came the answering roar, almost cheerful in its anger, followed by another crash. "And I don't hear any sirens!"

Angelo came very close to getting dragged out by his ear right then and there. Fortunately, Scott managed to step on that part of his immediate reaction, at least. "Oh yes, you are done!" he snapped.

Amanda sucked in a breath, counting silently. There was already enough grr, and hopefully that fact she was there at all would shock some sense into him. "Ange?" she called, stepping into the house, boots gritting on the tiled floor. "You need to stop this and come home. Now." Another breath and she added, for the sake of being the good cop: "Please."

There was, indeed, a brief silence at that - and then, with more resignation than anything, "Scott, bringing her wasn't fair play."

Angelo stepped into view from the depths of the house, sword hanging at ease in his hand.

Cain stepped immediately in front of Scott and Amanda, hand out and open towards Angelo. "Okay, boy," he said quietly. "Put the little pig-sticker down, and let's get the hell out of here. I got no idea what in the hell you think you're doing, but it's done. Trust me, this ain't up for discussion."

"I'm not leavin' it here", Angelo objected, quiet but with no give in his voice. "It's mine. What, you think I'm gonna hurt them?"

"I don't think any of us think that," Scott said, "but you have to admit, the smashing up an innocent house is a bit out of character."

"House might be innocent", Angelo said grimly, and his expression changed again to implacable hatred, "but the bitch that owns it isn't. Can't get her, this'll do."

"And if she had been here? What were you going to do?" Amanda stepped around Cain, hands stuffed in her pockets, voice just as quiet and firm as his had been a moment ago. "Do you think the Professor would step in to cover up murder in cold blood?" Her tone flattened. "And what about Saidullayev? Did you even consider he might be here?"

"Considered it", he said just as flatly. "But she wouldn't've brought him here where anyone could recognise him from the news, she'd stash him somewhere else first. As for the Professor... he lets Logan live in the house. But whatever he chose, I'd've taken, if it came to that."

"And what about your mum? How do you think she'd react to you just leaving? Your friends? Nate? You really think he wants it on his conscience that you went and ruined your life for him?" Now the anger was coming through, making her voice tight and clipped. "Did you think of any of that before you went off on your whole macho revenge kick?"

He turned to look at her, blank-eyed, all the life and emotion suppressed out of his face. "She shot Nate in the back. He might still die. So don't you dare pull that one on me when you know you'd have done the same if it was Remy, Amanda. And - " He lapsed into Askani, here, not wanting the words to be for anyone but her. "~She's twisting the best thing I ever heard about, and she believes she's right. Someone's got to stop her, and Nate's way failed.~"

Scott didn't understand the Askani, but he could answer the rest. "Nathan's not going to die," he said, his voice reassuring rather than harsh. "If you'll leave off the property damage and come back to the mansion, Jean or Amelia can tell you that themselves. He's not going to be moving very fast for the next month or so, but he's going to be fine."

"~And if this thing is so important to you, do you really want to throw things away on something like this?~" Amanda's Askani was halting, rusty from lack of use and the damage caused two years ago, so she switched to Spanish instead. "~Askani died to stop me throwing my life away - do you really think she wants you to do the same?~" She paused, then added, back in English. "Nate needs you there, helping him. Not in some jail cell, or dead yourself. Trask could have shot you just as easily as she did Nate."

"~To cut the head off that snake? Yes.~" He didn't mean it literally. "And is anyone else goin' to do anythin' about her? Is the team goin' to go all guns after her, Scott? Or maybe Nate's invulnerable friend she can't do a thing to could go bring her in, Cain." His voice was bitter.

Without a word, Cain slowly stepped forward, directly in front of Angelo, looking down at the younger man. Finally, he spoke in a hushed voice. "You want to try and tell me how I oughta deal with one of my friends bein' shot in the back, maybe you oughta stop and realize who the hell you're talking to, boy. You think just because I ain't out tearing up the streets hunting this bitch down, that I ain't pissed? Kid, Nate's done a hell of a lot for you and even if he ain't the kind to say it, you're the closest thing to a son he's got. This is what you do for him, then? Tear up some house like the ratty little gangbanger you used to be?" He took a step back, looking Angelo up and down. "You want to take this lady and her pet psycho down? Then sit down. Plan. They stick their head up where we can see it and I'll be right there next to you to pound 'em flat. But god's sake, boy, use your goddamn head for something more than acting a fool."

"It hasn't been forty-eight hours yet, Angelo," Scott said levelly. "We're looking after our wounded and catching our breath." He wanted to be home in bed with one of those wounded at the moment, come to think of it. "You're not looking at this clearly yet, and if you don't take a step back to give yourself a chance to start thinking strategically... I can damned well guarantee you that you will not be a part of whatever we 'do about her'." He went on, not giving Angelo a chance to respond just yet. "We're dealing with someone who's had at least ten years and probably closer to twenty to lay plans. We're a step behind, but if you don't get ahold of yourself, you're not going to be able to help us catch up."

Angelo turned away, looking out towards the street, and his voice was tired and still bitter when he spoke. "Well, maybe I'm just sick of shit like this happenin' an' no one ever catchin' up at all. I've got my car, I'm goin' home. I want to see the closest thing to a dad I've got left."

"Ange..." Amanda began, but stopped herself. She'd done enough. With a sigh, she looked up at Scott and said quietly: "I'll see if the Trenchcoats can't keep an eye on the police side of things, keep you updated if they find anything to backtrack this back to him."

"I'm guessing you're riding back with him," Scott said, then looked around at the house. "It's entirely possible she was never coming back here, you know," he said to Angelo.

Angelo still had his back to them, but he nodded. "I know. Seemed worth comin' anyway."

Amanda wasn't entirely sure of the welcome if she tried to go back with Angelo, but it wasn't like she couldn't get home from here herself. So she crossed to him, seeing the line of defeat in his shoulders, the droop of the sword in his hand, and touched his back tentatively. "Time to go home, love," she said softly. Preferably before the police turned up.

He half-turned his head towards her, nodding again. "Yeah. I'll... go on my own, okay?" He paused then, again in soft Spanish only meant for her, "~They never got the guy who killed Dad, either.~"

Her fingers pressed slightly against his back. "~It's not finished yet,~" she replied, just as quietly, and then stepped back, folding her hands back into her jacket pockets, glancing over at Scott and Cain. "See him back safely, yeah?" she asked, and without waiting for an answer, left the room, broken glass crunching underfoot.

Cain shrugged and looked at Scott with an almost melancholy expression. "I suppose this means drive-thru's out of the question?"