Scott and Jean, Sunday afternoon
Feb. 22nd, 2009 10:39 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsA moment in the infirmary after the team arrives home...
"Please make the room stop spinning." The raspiness in his voice only made the comment sound more piteous. Scott was really feeling quite pitiful at the moment, so maybe that suited. He was consoling himself that Zanne and Lakatos had both rejoined the land of the living on the flight back to the mansion as well, and would be okay, according to Amelia, who'd poked her head in her a few minutes ago.
"Shh," Jean said, reaching up from where she was working on the alarming holes in his arm to brush his hair back from his eyes, briefly cradling his cheek. "What did I say about talking and, you know, not doing it? The spinning is the painkillers plus the multiple head blows together, and the only way to stop it is put you all the way under. You were the one who said no to that plan."
"It was a good plan. Not like my plan. Piece of shit, misconceived bastard idiot plan..." Scott was somehow managing to sound both loopy and utterly miserable. "If Ororo shows up to laugh at me or scold me, don't let her in? Especially don't let Charles in. I didn't want a riot! Was that so wrong?"
Jean frowned, turning back to her stitching. "I was not kidding about the not talking, Scott; do not make the damage to your vocal cords worse. I take a dim view to people hurting you, even when they're you, and I'm in no mood for it just now." Which was possibly one of the understatement of the year. "I'm certainly not letting anyone in here to yell at you, though."
Scott fell silent, staring up at her with that oddly effective, single-eyed puppy dog look. Mission accomplished, I guess, he sent, his mental voice unfocused. They didn't disrupt the march... Although he was really pretty sure that there had been a better way to accomplish that. God, he was going to be second-guessing this until next Christmas.
Her hands were steady as she worked but Jean had her lower lip caught between her teeth, worrying at it. "See, I think," she said after a moment, tying off the last of his stitches and straightening up, "now is not the time for fretting. Now is not the time for you to be obsessing about what happened, and in return I shall not obsess about what I'm going to do to Mystique next time we meet."
I don't know what to do about Kurt... he thought almost involuntarily, despite her words. I don't even know what really happened. Kurt and Lakatos shouldn't have separated. What was the point of partners if you didn't stick with your partner?
Jean sighed and quickly cleaned him off before wrapping a bandage around his arm. "You know you can actually ask Kurt what the hell happened later, if you rest now."
Scott watched her work, trying to shake the mad circular thinking that seemed to have seized hold of his brain. Some mental fog would have been nice right now. Maybe he could convince someone to hit him in the head again. So... am I going to live, doctor? It was a poor attempt at a joke.
Jean just fixed him with a Look, a handful of hours after Mystique had, quite literally, had her claws in him was not nearly enough time for her to be able to put up with jokes about Scott dying. But his mental tone was still so pitiable that it wasn't long before her glare melted and she leaned over and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Only you could make that sound like a bad pickup line."
I try. He closed his eyes, letting his breath out on a sign. Getting upstairs. Scary thought. He wasn't absolutely sure his legs would work.
"Yeah, about that, you know you're not walking up there, right? I mean, we take the elevator and if you're very good I let you stand on your own feet." Honestly, she was half tempted to suggest he needed to stay down in the medlab - he'd lost a lot of blood, but then neither of them would sleep much at all.
No carrying me upstairs. So hard on the dignity, Scott sent back, then opened his eyes abruptly, gazing up at her with a muzzy sort of concern. Check on Zanne and Peter for me, before we go...?
Jean nodded. "I'll go pop my head in on them. Stay put. I mean it. No sitting, no standing. Definitely no walking until I'm back."
"Please make the room stop spinning." The raspiness in his voice only made the comment sound more piteous. Scott was really feeling quite pitiful at the moment, so maybe that suited. He was consoling himself that Zanne and Lakatos had both rejoined the land of the living on the flight back to the mansion as well, and would be okay, according to Amelia, who'd poked her head in her a few minutes ago.
"Shh," Jean said, reaching up from where she was working on the alarming holes in his arm to brush his hair back from his eyes, briefly cradling his cheek. "What did I say about talking and, you know, not doing it? The spinning is the painkillers plus the multiple head blows together, and the only way to stop it is put you all the way under. You were the one who said no to that plan."
"It was a good plan. Not like my plan. Piece of shit, misconceived bastard idiot plan..." Scott was somehow managing to sound both loopy and utterly miserable. "If Ororo shows up to laugh at me or scold me, don't let her in? Especially don't let Charles in. I didn't want a riot! Was that so wrong?"
Jean frowned, turning back to her stitching. "I was not kidding about the not talking, Scott; do not make the damage to your vocal cords worse. I take a dim view to people hurting you, even when they're you, and I'm in no mood for it just now." Which was possibly one of the understatement of the year. "I'm certainly not letting anyone in here to yell at you, though."
Scott fell silent, staring up at her with that oddly effective, single-eyed puppy dog look. Mission accomplished, I guess, he sent, his mental voice unfocused. They didn't disrupt the march... Although he was really pretty sure that there had been a better way to accomplish that. God, he was going to be second-guessing this until next Christmas.
Her hands were steady as she worked but Jean had her lower lip caught between her teeth, worrying at it. "See, I think," she said after a moment, tying off the last of his stitches and straightening up, "now is not the time for fretting. Now is not the time for you to be obsessing about what happened, and in return I shall not obsess about what I'm going to do to Mystique next time we meet."
I don't know what to do about Kurt... he thought almost involuntarily, despite her words. I don't even know what really happened. Kurt and Lakatos shouldn't have separated. What was the point of partners if you didn't stick with your partner?
Jean sighed and quickly cleaned him off before wrapping a bandage around his arm. "You know you can actually ask Kurt what the hell happened later, if you rest now."
Scott watched her work, trying to shake the mad circular thinking that seemed to have seized hold of his brain. Some mental fog would have been nice right now. Maybe he could convince someone to hit him in the head again. So... am I going to live, doctor? It was a poor attempt at a joke.
Jean just fixed him with a Look, a handful of hours after Mystique had, quite literally, had her claws in him was not nearly enough time for her to be able to put up with jokes about Scott dying. But his mental tone was still so pitiable that it wasn't long before her glare melted and she leaned over and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Only you could make that sound like a bad pickup line."
I try. He closed his eyes, letting his breath out on a sign. Getting upstairs. Scary thought. He wasn't absolutely sure his legs would work.
"Yeah, about that, you know you're not walking up there, right? I mean, we take the elevator and if you're very good I let you stand on your own feet." Honestly, she was half tempted to suggest he needed to stay down in the medlab - he'd lost a lot of blood, but then neither of them would sleep much at all.
No carrying me upstairs. So hard on the dignity, Scott sent back, then opened his eyes abruptly, gazing up at her with a muzzy sort of concern. Check on Zanne and Peter for me, before we go...?
Jean nodded. "I'll go pop my head in on them. Stay put. I mean it. No sitting, no standing. Definitely no walking until I'm back."
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