Jean, Cammie, and Jean-Paul

[x-cynosure.livejournal.com]

Jean questions Cammie about the accident.



Even through every other utterly miserable sensation that hit as he opened his eyes, Jean-Paul found that he had the oddest sense of deja-vu. He was definitely in medlab again, with tubes in his arms, but that wasn't so specific. So what...?

He'd come to enough to realize what his body was telling him, and just barely managed to roll over and vomit over the side of the bed instead of onto his pillow.

Ah. That. In medlab again, with tubes in his arms and sick as a dog. At least someone had thought to leave a wastebasket by the bed.

Cammie was off in the distance. She was hanging around for one reason and one reason only, to make sure she hadn’t accidentally killed Jean-Paul. The vomiting noise she heard was a good confirmation that he was indeed still alive. She let out a sigh of relief.

She looked over at Dr. Grey, “He’s gonna be okay, right?” once she was totally sure, she was out of here. Out of this room at the very least.

"He is," Jean confirmed, looking up from her monitors. She'd known Jean-Paul was out of the woods for a while but had wanted to see him all the way to wakefulness before trying to deal with Cammie. Which meant now was the point for helping the distraught young woman. Or possibly confining her. "So, can you tell me what happened?"

Cammie shook her head, “It… was just an accident. I didn’t mean …” that sounded so weak. It always sounded so weak. “I’ll just start packing…”

"Woah, woah," Jean said, holding up a hand. "We understand from accidents, trust me. Don't go rushing off just yet. Please, Cammie, sit down. Deep, calming breathes. It's going to be ok."

“It’s not an accident, I hit him! He wouldn’t back off I… I didn’t think I hit him so hard, I just wanted him to back off, you know?” Cammie started, trying to do the deep breathes thing.

Jean considered Cammie thoughtfully, then glanced back down at Jean-Paul, still shaking from the after effects of the toxins. "The thing with young mutants is that the difference between action and intention is all the difference in the world, Cammie. Teenagers and young adults, I know you hate hearing this, believe me, I hated it when I was your age too, but by your very nature you lack control. Emotional control vanishes in human beings and married to the lack of control of mutation is incredibly dangerous, but there is not an adult anywhere in this building who doesn't understand that, who hasn't accepted that as part and parcel of working here." She looked up again, catching Cammie's eye. "Hitting him may not have been an accident, but poisoning him was. The logically reasoning portion of your mind simply wasn't functioning and the thing is, we understand that. You were angry and upset and that's normal. Teenagers get upset. In your view, and adult gets in your face and we don't back off and we are always acting as though we know best, and getting mad at that is. Perfectly. Normal. And then your rational brain shuts off. But now is the time you turn it back on, Cammie. Yes, what you did was incredibly dangerous. You pose a danger - it's a fact of your life. But you pose less of a danger to everyone by staying here, and every day you get more control and learn more about yourself and your powers and become less and less dangerous. Leaving, running helps no one."

Cammie didn’t say anything, just looked over at Jean-Paul and back over at Dr. Grey. She nodded once, “Yeah, I… I guess… I mean… I know I’m dangerous…” she crossed her arms over stomach, like she was hugging herself. “I…well, at least he’s all right. I’ll just got back to my room for awhile,” Cammie said, shifting her weight a bit.

“And be all rational and stuff.”

Jean managed to keep her sigh internal as she crossed the room, being careful not to intrude on Cammie's personal space but making sure to catch her gaze and hold it. "It will be ok, Cammie. I promise." There was concern in her expression by the bucket load, and no censure or anger. "Step one is just to try and calm down."

“Yeah. I hear ya,” Cammie said. “I’ll just head back to my room for right now. Maybe try to sleep,” she said simply, “I suppose I can be happy I got him here on time,” she said, looking back at Jean-Paul, still frazzled.

Jean-Paul's nausea had kept him out of the conversation entirely. He's finally managed to get some kind of control over his desperately heaving stomach, though it didn't seem worth the effort to pull himself back from the edge of the bed as Cammie made her retreat.

Finally, weakly, "Remind me to thank her for that later."