xp_logs | Post MoR: Jay, Jean Logan

Much later, after Logan exhausts Jay, Jean and Logan sit him down and they identify what Jay needs to maintain some sanity and not have a second blow up.

Staring down at his palms, he turned his fingers over, facing up in his lap and studied the work Jean had done to fix him up. Though they knew he could heal faster now because of the modifications, his healing was not Logan's. The tingling of his healing factor subsided the pain he was feeling, but then he was also distracted by the immense satisfaction he knew he shouldn't be feeling. Logan had exhausted him to the point of bliss, putting a halt to his hunger lust and running him to a point that he felt relaxed, able to somewhat think clearly.

"Physically, you'll be all right in a few days at the outside," Jean was saying, watching Jay closely as he very intentionally kept his eyes down. "I'm not worried about that. I do think, though, that if you'd be willing you ought to be doing regular therapy sessions, probably either with Charles or maybe with Jack Leary. Do you know who he is?"

"Yeah, Ah know who he is," he said, rolling his shoulder, wishing for a pop between his joints but knowing it wouldn't come because of the metal wings that sat out of sight in his shoulders. It was odd for him, revelling in the ache in his shoulders, the tender soreness that extended right down to his fingers and balls of his feet. He would have resigned with a sigh of contentment but he was sure he would get a disapproving look. His eyes trailed along the floor to where Logan stood nearby, studying his feet before his eyes climbed up. Not the usual lusty look from the young man, but a hungry one that would have kept fighting if he had anything left in him. The look was brief on the surface but permanent in the depths of yellow eyes and he leaned back on one arm, turning his other hand over on his thigh and scratched at a bandaged cut covered by his jeans.

"Why do Ah need therapy?" he asked, even though he knew the answer and turned his gaze on Jean. The warmth in her eyes brought him back down to a laziness he hadn't felt for some time.

Logan barked out a laugh at that. "Kid, you're like me. Remade to be a killing machine for someone else," he commented. "You don't really want to live like that." he said. "Bet you crave violence. Love to put some pain on people. And in order to make you like that - because you ain't normally - they had to go in and fuck with your head," he said simply. "No easy fixes, Jay. You talk to the geeks to get your head straight, and you work with me in the Danger Room to get that release when you can't deal, when you start lookin' at people like they're targets or prey, not people."

"Blunt and to the point, as always, Logan," Jean said, but there was a hint of a smile and she certainly didn't sound disapproving. "He's right, Jay - we don't know if you can be 'de-programmed', as it were, but Jack has experience dealing with externally imposed combat personalities - if anyone can help you cope with what's happened, at least the intellectual side, it will be him."

"Because lying to the kid or trying to spare his feelings is just gonna work out so well," he grumbled, but ultimately subsided. "Give this Leary guy a chance. Might surprise you," he pointed out.

"Yeah right. Ah don't see you goin' to anyone," he said to Logan. The man described him perfectly or at least how he felt concerning people and could only nod at the underlying order, having nothing within him to challenge it but falling to submission. Content submission but still, submission none the less. "All right," he said nodding to Jean as well. "So's when do Ah have to go? How often to Leary? This ain't gonna be dumb meditatin' stuff is it?"

Jean leaned back, crossing her arms and considering him. "I honestly can't say what your therapy's going to consist of, Jay. Jack will decide that, and we'll leave how often you need to talk together up to the two of you." She offered him a little smile.

"Great." He looked between the two before brushing a hand through his hair, though it did little but fall back in place. At least some things didn't change. "So does this mean yer kickin' me outta medbay now?"

"'Kicking out,' no," Jean said. "But... I think it might do you good to get back out into the mansion proper. If you're regularly working out your aggressions with Logan and meeting with Leary, I think the last step of your mental health has to be the social aspect."

"In other words, the hermiting shit's gotta stop." he offered. "Want to be a man? Just a regular guy? Gotta get out there and be one. Can't do that if you're writing shitty poetry and hiding from the world." he said, with a certain degree of blackly bitter self-depreciatory humor. "You talk to Leary, throw down with me when you need to let it all go, and you'll get through it."

Jay slipped off his seat into a standing position and for a second, the urge was there to bristle wings that weren't there, but within his spine. Instead, he snorted. "Yeah, Ah'll get through it. Can't die, can Ah?" he asked bitterly before looking to Jean for an excuse to be excused.

At her faint nod, he walked a very wide arch around Logan before pausing at the door. "And for the record, Ah don't write shitty poetry."