Papa Don't Preach: Homecoming
Jan. 15th, 2009 03:30 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
x-dryad.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
xp_logsTwo stray dogs find shelter in the morning hours.
There was a knock at the door. It was early morning, but it was still dark out. Only a handful of people were awake at this hour: bakers, club goers, and worried parents. Giancarlo Betto opened the front door to his home, to see who could possibly be out at this hour.
"Mr. Summers," he called back into the villa. "I think it would be a good idea for you to come here."
Scott hadn't been sleeping; the fruitlessness of the search was wearing on him, and he'd accumulated enough nervous energy that more than a catnap hadn't really been an option. Didn't mean he was entirely with it when he was suddenly being called, however. "What is it?" he asked, shaking off the grogginess as he went to join Callie's father.
Giancarlo motioned with his head toward the doorway. There, behind one very exasperated looking police officer, stood the two girls. They looked exhausted and worse for wear, but they were very much alive.
"~*I am told these are yours,*~" the officer said tersely. Callie's father nodded his head in response, too shocked to say anything. He had almost given up all hope that his daughter and her friend would be found. There had been no leads, no sightings, nothing, and to have them here once more, it was nothing less of a miracle he decided.
As soon as their police escort had stepped aside, Callie ran up to her father and joyfully threw her arms around him, squealing with glee. "Daddy!"
"Scott!" Clarice ran to the older man and hugged him tightly too. He wasn't her first choice of people, but he was a very good second. "I feel like ass and need a shower. But my head stopped throbbing," now it was just a dull ache that seemed to move each time she was beginning to get used to it.
"Clarice!" He didn't quite push her away - he was pretty damned relieved to see her, too - but he wanted an explanation, damn it. "Where have the two of you been?" he demanded, attention going from her to Callie and then back again.
Callie stepped back and sighed. She was the one who had gotten them into the mess in the first place, so she figured she should be the one to explain. "Well we were at the disco right? And there was a bomb," she explained quickly. "And Clarice hit her head and I fell and we were rescued, only like apparently the people didn't want us to leave or anything, they wanted to keep us there to protect us because they're mutants and we're mutants and stuff, I mean they were really nice and took care of us but I really didn't want to get married and so I woke up Clarice and we got out and we went to the police and now we're here?"
"I don't speak Italian," Clarice stated, though that was obvious. "I wanted to teleport, but my head hurts," she continued, "I banged it pretty good. They weren't very good kidnappers. They left the door open and no guards, so we just walked out," it bothered her a lot more than she wanted to admit right now. She kept imagining that they had done some sort of freaky experiments on them or something and they had tracking devices now inside them and they would come back and attack later or some much. Clearly, Clarice had been an X-Man for too long, but she hadn't told Callie any of these concerns.
Scott took a deep breath, then let it out. "Have either of you seen a doctor?" he asked. "If not, I'd say that's first on the list."
Giancarlo nodded in agreement. "Yes, you both must see a doctor."
"No, we haven't seen a doctor." Callie glanced at Clarice. "Not that I can remember." Problem was, Clarice remembered even less that she, so if Callie couldn't remember then it probably didn't happen. She didn't want to go to a doctor, she wanted to sleep.
"Nope," Clarice knew it was a good idea for them to do so. In fact, she'd debated having them see about going to a hospital and THEN calling for Callie's dad, but instead she had agreed for them to go home and reassure everyone that they were in fact alive and mostly well before going to the hospital, "but I think I have a concussion. Or I did. Dying in my sleep would be so lame."
Scott managed not to roll his eye - mostly because he was busy eyeing Clarice's head. "Rather impressive goose egg, there," he muttered, then took a step back and eyed both of them. "Doctor first. Then we can sort out exactly what happened."
There was a knock at the door. It was early morning, but it was still dark out. Only a handful of people were awake at this hour: bakers, club goers, and worried parents. Giancarlo Betto opened the front door to his home, to see who could possibly be out at this hour.
"Mr. Summers," he called back into the villa. "I think it would be a good idea for you to come here."
Scott hadn't been sleeping; the fruitlessness of the search was wearing on him, and he'd accumulated enough nervous energy that more than a catnap hadn't really been an option. Didn't mean he was entirely with it when he was suddenly being called, however. "What is it?" he asked, shaking off the grogginess as he went to join Callie's father.
Giancarlo motioned with his head toward the doorway. There, behind one very exasperated looking police officer, stood the two girls. They looked exhausted and worse for wear, but they were very much alive.
"~*I am told these are yours,*~" the officer said tersely. Callie's father nodded his head in response, too shocked to say anything. He had almost given up all hope that his daughter and her friend would be found. There had been no leads, no sightings, nothing, and to have them here once more, it was nothing less of a miracle he decided.
As soon as their police escort had stepped aside, Callie ran up to her father and joyfully threw her arms around him, squealing with glee. "Daddy!"
"Scott!" Clarice ran to the older man and hugged him tightly too. He wasn't her first choice of people, but he was a very good second. "I feel like ass and need a shower. But my head stopped throbbing," now it was just a dull ache that seemed to move each time she was beginning to get used to it.
"Clarice!" He didn't quite push her away - he was pretty damned relieved to see her, too - but he wanted an explanation, damn it. "Where have the two of you been?" he demanded, attention going from her to Callie and then back again.
Callie stepped back and sighed. She was the one who had gotten them into the mess in the first place, so she figured she should be the one to explain. "Well we were at the disco right? And there was a bomb," she explained quickly. "And Clarice hit her head and I fell and we were rescued, only like apparently the people didn't want us to leave or anything, they wanted to keep us there to protect us because they're mutants and we're mutants and stuff, I mean they were really nice and took care of us but I really didn't want to get married and so I woke up Clarice and we got out and we went to the police and now we're here?"
"I don't speak Italian," Clarice stated, though that was obvious. "I wanted to teleport, but my head hurts," she continued, "I banged it pretty good. They weren't very good kidnappers. They left the door open and no guards, so we just walked out," it bothered her a lot more than she wanted to admit right now. She kept imagining that they had done some sort of freaky experiments on them or something and they had tracking devices now inside them and they would come back and attack later or some much. Clearly, Clarice had been an X-Man for too long, but she hadn't told Callie any of these concerns.
Scott took a deep breath, then let it out. "Have either of you seen a doctor?" he asked. "If not, I'd say that's first on the list."
Giancarlo nodded in agreement. "Yes, you both must see a doctor."
"No, we haven't seen a doctor." Callie glanced at Clarice. "Not that I can remember." Problem was, Clarice remembered even less that she, so if Callie couldn't remember then it probably didn't happen. She didn't want to go to a doctor, she wanted to sleep.
"Nope," Clarice knew it was a good idea for them to do so. In fact, she'd debated having them see about going to a hospital and THEN calling for Callie's dad, but instead she had agreed for them to go home and reassure everyone that they were in fact alive and mostly well before going to the hospital, "but I think I have a concussion. Or I did. Dying in my sleep would be so lame."
Scott managed not to roll his eye - mostly because he was busy eyeing Clarice's head. "Rather impressive goose egg, there," he muttered, then took a step back and eyed both of them. "Doctor first. Then we can sort out exactly what happened."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}