Angelo & Scott...talk
Feb. 3rd, 2004 04:26 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsFollowing this request...
Scott dashed down the steps to the medlab, his mind on the brief voicemail he'd received earlier. Oddly enough, he had been going to meet up with Angelo the first time he'd had gotten a call from this contact. He knocked on the door to the room before entering, looking around to see if anyone but Angelo was there. "Hey," he smiled at the boy.
Angelo looked up when he heard the door open, and smiled briefly in return. "Hey. Glad you could make it down."
"You know how busy they keep me here. Besides, I had good spies keeping an eye on you. I was thinking of installing pillow-top floors outside the room for a time." He sat in an empty chair, appearing relaxed, at ease. Only a tightening of the muscles around his eyes gave away any of the tension he felt.
Angelo nodded. "Yeah, I know certain people didn't leave much. Now..." He sighed, trying to put his words together and not lose his temper. "I've just been wondering how this came to happen - in such a safe place." The last words were spoken with heavy irony.
"Safer, Angelo. I may not have said that at the time, but now it needs to be said." He ran his hands through his hair. "It really wasn't about us this time. It was Pete, and his ex-employers."
Angelo nodded. "Yeah, Marie told me. But how come things got that far? Didn't anybody *think* his ex-employers might have been pissed off when he quit?"
"Pete didn't think so. A change in the upper levels of management, or in policy. I was more concerned that they knew this place, and *us,* who we are and what we can do. How to neutralize us, or at least take us hostage to get what they really wanted." Scott was being honest, like Marie said they'd needed to be. "Jake's looking into beefing up the security, and I know Pete was going to help as well."
Angelo nodded silently, not saying what he was really thinking - too little, too late. He settled for a simple, "Okay" with no real conviction.
Scott leaned back, and studied Angelo silently. He kept this up until the boy gave in and spoke what was really on his mind.
Angelo held out for as long as he could before breaking. "You told me this place was a safe haven", he accused softly. "When you picked me up. Forget to mention Stryker's raid, did you?"
"You're right, I didn't mention that. It was in the past. If we're all going to be tarred and feathered for things that happened..." Scott stopped himself. This wasn't the way to approach this. "I'm sorry for not mentioning it. Yes, the government came after the school. It was the reason for that headache that you got, in a roundabout way." Resting his hands on his knees, he leaned more forward. "I wasn't here for the raid, Angelo. Yes, I knew about it, but only long after the fact. I'd lost the woman I loved, and was trying to settle a number of new mutants into a home we thought we'd be able to make safe for them. Or safer than they had been. And they could learn to use their new powers. We fucked up. Many times. We likely still will." His gaze had gone to the floor as he had spoken, and he looked up once more into Angelo's eyes. "If you don't think this place is safe enough, please, tell me how to make it so." His voice held an edge of pleading, not a trace of sarcasm. He truly felt at a loss.
Angelo shrugged, his anger fading in the face of Scott's helplessness. "Don't think you'd like the only ways I know", he said flatly. "Not for everybody."
"I won't know if I don't like them until I hear them." He countered Angelo's flat tone, a touch of asperity in his. "You accuse me of not telling you things, of not being honest. Be honest with me, Angelo."
"I'm a fighter, Scott", Angelo countered. "Three years, back in LA, making my own survival. I thought I wouldn't have to do that anymore, here - but that doesn't mean I can't. Or that I won't help anyone who wants to, learn."
"Ah, the militant youth army," he sighed, this time his fingers rubbing at his temples. "And you tried to help them before, Angelo. If I remember correctly, it didn't turn out so well." He cocked an eyebrow in the boy's direction. "We have a lot of people who know how to fight. That's good. It's one of the things we're trying to teach you. But that doesn't keep you *safe*. That gets you out of trouble once you're not safe anymore. How can I ... we ... make this a safe haven again?"
"That, I don't know", Angelo admitted, bridling slightly at the reminder of his "weakness", but not saying anything. "I don't even know if you can."
Scott shrugged. "I guess it's a trade-off, then. A roof over the head, when it's not being blown off or torn off, meals when you want them, training and learning, in return for the occasional attack because old enemies are pissed or people don't like mutants. It's not ideal. It's hell-and-gone away from perfect." He rubbed his temples again, headache threatening. "But it's not the street. It's not ... shouldn't be ... constant fear, constant worry. We're doing all we can. It's not enough. Not yet. Hopefully someday. Hell, hopefully someday we won't /need/ it. That's what we're working for, Angelo." He reached out, resting a hand on the bed. "And we need people to help get us there. But it's not for everyone."
"Not constant", Angelo agreed. "And you're right, it's not the street. But on the flip side, there were never trained soldiers with guns back in LA, even after it all blew up on me. So there *is* fear an' worry now, an' I can't promise I won't do what I can to make it go away."
"I don't want you to promise anything you can't keep. Or won't keep. I just want to know what you want from me. From this place. And once we know that, then how do we get it. Those aren't easy questions, and they don't get easy answers." He pulled his hand back, sighing.
Angelo nodded. "What I want from you? Just that you let me start the combat classes again when I get out of here. I'm better now, Dr. McTaggart's been helping. Or if you're not up for that, then..." He hesitated, aware that he was about to ask for something big. "Or, let me take anyone over, say, sixteen or seventeen who wants to go to the shooting range and teach them some."
"If Dr. MacTaggart thinks you're ready, then you can start up again. As for shooting, I don't have a problem with people learning. I do have a problem with guns in the mansion. Unsecured guns in the mansion. But Marie asked me long ago about learning to shoot, and I don't have a problem with it." Scott looked at him. "How good are you, and what guns?"
"Three years", Angelo reminded him. "I'm good enough. Handguns - whatever kinds we could get ahold of."
"Rifles, shotguns? Any semi-automatics?" Scott knew enough about guns to know that they weren't his thing, but they did have their uses.
"Not really", Angelo shrugged. "Handguns were easier to come by, and cheaper." He paused before adding with determination. "The rest, I can learn."
"Fair enough. Anything else?"
"Knifework, a bit of hand to hand but that's not what I'm best at. Street stuff, you know."
Scott grinned a little. "If people want to know that, they'll find you. Is there anything else you want from me, or from us?"
Angelo eyed him a little suspiciously, uncertain of what the grin meant. "Not right now. Just know you're not the only ones who'll be doing what you can to stop this happening again."
He shook his head tightly, just a miniscule motion, once, twice. "No. You'll be stopping it as it's happening, Angelo. Don't forget that." Standing up, he held out his hand to the boy on the bed.
Angelo grasped Scott's hand to shake it. "If that's the way it has to be. One more thing - try not to treat us like kids anymore. Not me, not Marie, not any of us who've been through as much shit as you have. Save it for the little ones, okay?"
Again with the head shake, and his lips tightened, but he didn't say anything about it. "Okay."
Angelo noticed the head shake and scowled ever so faintly. "I know you want us to be kids. God knows it sounds good to me, too. But some of us have come too far for that. Nothing anybody can do about it."
Scott finally let out his frustration. "That's entirely *not* the point! I can't understand this attitude. Have I patronized you, Angelo? Have I told you anything that made you feel like a child? Not talking, I suppose, is my biggest sin. Fine. I will stop not saying anything on shit I don't know anything about!" He whirled out of the room, the door slamming behind him.
Scott headed toward the Danger Room, grabbing Marie and Logan on the way. "Training. Now."
Scott dashed down the steps to the medlab, his mind on the brief voicemail he'd received earlier. Oddly enough, he had been going to meet up with Angelo the first time he'd had gotten a call from this contact. He knocked on the door to the room before entering, looking around to see if anyone but Angelo was there. "Hey," he smiled at the boy.
Angelo looked up when he heard the door open, and smiled briefly in return. "Hey. Glad you could make it down."
"You know how busy they keep me here. Besides, I had good spies keeping an eye on you. I was thinking of installing pillow-top floors outside the room for a time." He sat in an empty chair, appearing relaxed, at ease. Only a tightening of the muscles around his eyes gave away any of the tension he felt.
Angelo nodded. "Yeah, I know certain people didn't leave much. Now..." He sighed, trying to put his words together and not lose his temper. "I've just been wondering how this came to happen - in such a safe place." The last words were spoken with heavy irony.
"Safer, Angelo. I may not have said that at the time, but now it needs to be said." He ran his hands through his hair. "It really wasn't about us this time. It was Pete, and his ex-employers."
Angelo nodded. "Yeah, Marie told me. But how come things got that far? Didn't anybody *think* his ex-employers might have been pissed off when he quit?"
"Pete didn't think so. A change in the upper levels of management, or in policy. I was more concerned that they knew this place, and *us,* who we are and what we can do. How to neutralize us, or at least take us hostage to get what they really wanted." Scott was being honest, like Marie said they'd needed to be. "Jake's looking into beefing up the security, and I know Pete was going to help as well."
Angelo nodded silently, not saying what he was really thinking - too little, too late. He settled for a simple, "Okay" with no real conviction.
Scott leaned back, and studied Angelo silently. He kept this up until the boy gave in and spoke what was really on his mind.
Angelo held out for as long as he could before breaking. "You told me this place was a safe haven", he accused softly. "When you picked me up. Forget to mention Stryker's raid, did you?"
"You're right, I didn't mention that. It was in the past. If we're all going to be tarred and feathered for things that happened..." Scott stopped himself. This wasn't the way to approach this. "I'm sorry for not mentioning it. Yes, the government came after the school. It was the reason for that headache that you got, in a roundabout way." Resting his hands on his knees, he leaned more forward. "I wasn't here for the raid, Angelo. Yes, I knew about it, but only long after the fact. I'd lost the woman I loved, and was trying to settle a number of new mutants into a home we thought we'd be able to make safe for them. Or safer than they had been. And they could learn to use their new powers. We fucked up. Many times. We likely still will." His gaze had gone to the floor as he had spoken, and he looked up once more into Angelo's eyes. "If you don't think this place is safe enough, please, tell me how to make it so." His voice held an edge of pleading, not a trace of sarcasm. He truly felt at a loss.
Angelo shrugged, his anger fading in the face of Scott's helplessness. "Don't think you'd like the only ways I know", he said flatly. "Not for everybody."
"I won't know if I don't like them until I hear them." He countered Angelo's flat tone, a touch of asperity in his. "You accuse me of not telling you things, of not being honest. Be honest with me, Angelo."
"I'm a fighter, Scott", Angelo countered. "Three years, back in LA, making my own survival. I thought I wouldn't have to do that anymore, here - but that doesn't mean I can't. Or that I won't help anyone who wants to, learn."
"Ah, the militant youth army," he sighed, this time his fingers rubbing at his temples. "And you tried to help them before, Angelo. If I remember correctly, it didn't turn out so well." He cocked an eyebrow in the boy's direction. "We have a lot of people who know how to fight. That's good. It's one of the things we're trying to teach you. But that doesn't keep you *safe*. That gets you out of trouble once you're not safe anymore. How can I ... we ... make this a safe haven again?"
"That, I don't know", Angelo admitted, bridling slightly at the reminder of his "weakness", but not saying anything. "I don't even know if you can."
Scott shrugged. "I guess it's a trade-off, then. A roof over the head, when it's not being blown off or torn off, meals when you want them, training and learning, in return for the occasional attack because old enemies are pissed or people don't like mutants. It's not ideal. It's hell-and-gone away from perfect." He rubbed his temples again, headache threatening. "But it's not the street. It's not ... shouldn't be ... constant fear, constant worry. We're doing all we can. It's not enough. Not yet. Hopefully someday. Hell, hopefully someday we won't /need/ it. That's what we're working for, Angelo." He reached out, resting a hand on the bed. "And we need people to help get us there. But it's not for everyone."
"Not constant", Angelo agreed. "And you're right, it's not the street. But on the flip side, there were never trained soldiers with guns back in LA, even after it all blew up on me. So there *is* fear an' worry now, an' I can't promise I won't do what I can to make it go away."
"I don't want you to promise anything you can't keep. Or won't keep. I just want to know what you want from me. From this place. And once we know that, then how do we get it. Those aren't easy questions, and they don't get easy answers." He pulled his hand back, sighing.
Angelo nodded. "What I want from you? Just that you let me start the combat classes again when I get out of here. I'm better now, Dr. McTaggart's been helping. Or if you're not up for that, then..." He hesitated, aware that he was about to ask for something big. "Or, let me take anyone over, say, sixteen or seventeen who wants to go to the shooting range and teach them some."
"If Dr. MacTaggart thinks you're ready, then you can start up again. As for shooting, I don't have a problem with people learning. I do have a problem with guns in the mansion. Unsecured guns in the mansion. But Marie asked me long ago about learning to shoot, and I don't have a problem with it." Scott looked at him. "How good are you, and what guns?"
"Three years", Angelo reminded him. "I'm good enough. Handguns - whatever kinds we could get ahold of."
"Rifles, shotguns? Any semi-automatics?" Scott knew enough about guns to know that they weren't his thing, but they did have their uses.
"Not really", Angelo shrugged. "Handguns were easier to come by, and cheaper." He paused before adding with determination. "The rest, I can learn."
"Fair enough. Anything else?"
"Knifework, a bit of hand to hand but that's not what I'm best at. Street stuff, you know."
Scott grinned a little. "If people want to know that, they'll find you. Is there anything else you want from me, or from us?"
Angelo eyed him a little suspiciously, uncertain of what the grin meant. "Not right now. Just know you're not the only ones who'll be doing what you can to stop this happening again."
He shook his head tightly, just a miniscule motion, once, twice. "No. You'll be stopping it as it's happening, Angelo. Don't forget that." Standing up, he held out his hand to the boy on the bed.
Angelo grasped Scott's hand to shake it. "If that's the way it has to be. One more thing - try not to treat us like kids anymore. Not me, not Marie, not any of us who've been through as much shit as you have. Save it for the little ones, okay?"
Again with the head shake, and his lips tightened, but he didn't say anything about it. "Okay."
Angelo noticed the head shake and scowled ever so faintly. "I know you want us to be kids. God knows it sounds good to me, too. But some of us have come too far for that. Nothing anybody can do about it."
Scott finally let out his frustration. "That's entirely *not* the point! I can't understand this attitude. Have I patronized you, Angelo? Have I told you anything that made you feel like a child? Not talking, I suppose, is my biggest sin. Fine. I will stop not saying anything on shit I don't know anything about!" He whirled out of the room, the door slamming behind him.
Scott headed toward the Danger Room, grabbing Marie and Logan on the way. "Training. Now."
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Re:
Date: 2004-02-04 03:00 am (UTC)