Scott, Shiro and Jean, Friday morning

[x-cyclops.livejournal.com]

After what Alex told him the night before, Scott decides he can't put off talking to Shiro. It doesn't go well, to the point where Jean decides she has to haul herself out of bed to intervene. The law is most definitely laid down.


It was not a bad idea to have waited until today to talk to Shiro, Scott thought. There had been some cooling down, at least, overnight. That and some real sleep - you could only sustain an adrenalin high for so long, no matter what your darling coworkers and teammates insisted upon piling upon you. Figuring that it was pretty likely that Shiro was still sticking mostly to his suite, Scott decided to try there first. The door was shut, but he knocked on it in a way that made it very clear he was not going away.

Shiro had been channel surfing, lying down on the couch in the common room, when the visitor came. So tempting to ignore, mostly because any sort of movement hurt. But more than four years at the mansion had taught him that that was one of the more foolish things he could do. With a pained moan, he pushed himself up and dragged himself to the door.

When he opened it, he realized that maybe this was the most foolish thing he could do.

Scott raised an eyebrow. "I suspect you'd like to have this conversation inside, rather than in the hall," he said evenly, noting the deer-in-the-headlights look. "Given you've had your dirty laundry aired in public already this week."

"Much appreciated." Shiro stepped aside to let Scott in, and quickly let go of the new doorknob once the door shut behind them. He didn't need any more of Cain's comments. "Who will start this one?"

Scott's eyes narrowed very slightly, but his voice was just as even as he went on. "I wouldn't jump to the conclusion that I'm here to start anything, Shiro. But I do think we need to have the conversation I pawned off on Ororo the last time."

"I physically attacked you last time. Asking Storm to speak with me may have been a wise decision at the time." Shiro sat back down on the couch, pulling his legs up to his chest. One of the shorter people in the mansion and having lost a noticeable amount of weight from the drug, he could have easily been confused for a child. "I do not know what to say or do. I have tried and I still hurt people."

"My brother finally told me what happened between the two of you the day that he left." Try as he might, he couldn't not say that a bit flatly.

"I see." To his credit, Shiro didn't shrink in on himself any more, and he didn't even turn away from Scott. "I . . . have nothing to say about that. I can't. There is nothing I can say. I have tried to apologize, but I know that does not mean anything."

"No, it doesn't." Scott took a slightly deeper than necessary breath, his shoulders straightening. "But I have a very serious question to ask you, and I want an honest answer, not the one you think I want to hear. Are you a danger to him?" Just because Alex could defend himself didn't mean that Scott wanted to see it come to that. "Because even if he's staying off campus right now, it doesn't mean that he's going to do so permanently. If you feel that you don't have sufficient control over yourself not to attack him for a second time, I need to know."

Shiro took close notice of Scott's words, and couldn't help the minute shudder that ran down his spine. Not "can you control yourself" or the like, but "are you a danger." He was sure that Scott had picked those words precisely. "I will not touch him," he answered after a few moments of silent thought, and reached up the rub the black eye Alex had so kindly offered him. "But the powers, I . . . I don't know."

Scott noted the black eye. Decided to ask about that later. "All right. Then what are you doing to address that problem?" he asked, just as levelly. "I left that up to you to coordinate with the medical staff, since I don't make a habit of sticking my nose into my teammates' personal medical issues. I'm sure you can understand why I might feel the need to pry at this point."

"I did return after Alex left, to pick up the other test results." But not since, to actually set up a physical recovery regimen. And psychologically, well, Charles was enough therapy for him.

"And?" Scott said, a bit of a snap in his voice. "Are you doing everything that's necessary to make sure you're on the road to recovery as soon as possible?"

"Is that a rhetorical question? Any addict will tell you that no one knows what the 'road to recovery' is and what will work." Shiro didn't even know if that was true, but it was a way to skirt around the issue.

"Shiro. Truth, right now. No more dancing around the subject." Scott's voice didn't alter in volume, but there was something close to dangerous about his tone. He'd had enough of this. Unfortunately, he was also starting to suspect that he knew the answer to his question. "Are you taking the necessary steps, since the problem's been identified? Because if you're not, if you're not fit for duty and I can't rely on you to be working on getting yourself back to that state, you have a responsibility to tell me."

That last sentence, though expected, shocked Shiro the most. "I've sequestered myself to try to regain some measure of self-control, but I have not yet spoken to the doctors about my physical health or anyone but Professor Xavier about my mental health."

Scott went absolutely still, his face gone so white that the scars stood out lividly, as did the still-healing scrapes from the ambush in Budapest. You got so bad that you tried to assault my brother and your answer is to shut yourself in your room and hope things improve? he wanted to say, but couldn't. The words just wouldn't come. Neither would anything about appalling irresponsibility, or how Lorna had apparently been right about some things... and that thought had him absolutely paralyzed with rage.

Shiro's first reaction, to point out that doing everything alone is pretty much par for the course with the X-Men, didn't make it past his brain. He couldn't remember ever seeing Scott look so furious. It was terrifying. Shiro just sat absolutely still, hoping that maybe Scott would have an aneurysm and they could stop talking about this.

She'd been napping. Ok, it hadn't been the most restful nap in the world, what with basically every unshielded mind in the building attempting to do the 'life is shit and I hate everyone' tango on her brain and the painkillers making her attempts at shutting them out largely ineffective, but she'd been asleep, and that was preferable to this. Waking up with the corner of her mind that was Scott simmering with anger. And then boiling. And then boiling over, and really, she needed to stop with the cooking metaphor.

Jean had decided to go looking for Scott around the time he started visualizing Shiro's head on a pike, which had given her a pretty good idea of where he was. With the ribs and the painkillers, though, it took her a while to get there. By the time she did, though, the mental buzz from Scott had her deciding that social niceties were going to fall by the wayside. She opened the door without knocking, stepped in and practically slammed it behind her. "Ok, nobody is allowed to kill anybody right now. Except me. I'm perfectly willing to kill both of you right now. Wait, no. I'll just maim Scott."

Scott's towering rage crumbled like a house of cards. I woke up my injured wife. No, I forced my injured wife to get out of bed. He took a deep, somewhat ragged breath, forcing his fists to unclench. "I'm not... killing anyone."

"Anou, I can leave if you two need to talk," Shiro volunteered, gazing longingly at the door. Someone was going to get hurt by day's end, he was sure of it, and even within this pathetic trio, he seemed most likely to be it.

Jean was so tempted to just reach over and smack Scott for that thought. #I forced me out of bed, thank you very much.# It wasn't a snarl, but there was a definite touch of bite to the thought. And also some wobble, given her lack of control at the moment. "Yeah, ok, Shiro? Painkillers mean I haven't got the shielding we'd all like. Please think less loudly, I know you know how. I also know you know better than to skip medical care when you need it."

Scott struggled to remember just where he had been going with this conversation before Shiro's words had killed all logical thought for him. "It's not working, Shiro," he said, his voice sounding more hoarse and strained, now. He was suddenly and shockingly aware of just how tired he was. "What you're doing. It's pretty damned obvious. And if you can't be more proactive..." The second half of that sentence really didn't need saying. "I am working very hard to remember everything you've given to this team, and weighing it against the situation you're in now." Against what you did. "But what you do now is up to you."

Shiro looked between the two of them. Cyclops and Phoenix, two of the founding members of the X-Men. Legends in a way. Heroes, undoubtedly. He nodded solemnly. "I understand."

"Tuesday," Jean said, uncompromising. "You have until Tuesday to get down to the medlab and discuss this in detail with one of the doctors, or we bench you for medical causes. I'll be back in the lab on Tuesday, and Moira is here all weekend at least, in addition to Amelia, so you have your choice of doctor, but you will be coming down."

First day of classes for the spring semester. Shiro sighed. It was going to be a long day. "I will be there. I promise." For what that was worth.

Scott found himself shaking his head - at what, he wasn't sure. Except maybe at himself, for talking to Shiro himself instead of going straight to one of the doctors. Although he'd needed to establish that Shiro hadn't gone already... hadn't he?

Dear God, he was tired.

He reached out to take Jean's arm. "I think we'll go," he said, levelly enough even if it was half-plea, half-question. He really could not deal with any more damage control. Not today, at least. "I'll talk to you later, Shiro."

Jean nodded. "We'll expect you." Jean nodded at Shiro, then took Scott's arm, leaning on it more heavily than she'd like as she turned towards the door.