Red X: Fred and Clarice

[x-nothungry.livejournal.com]

Clarice goes to the Mansion to pick up more volunteers and runs into a new face: a slightly overwhelmed Fred Dukes.




A train full of hazardous chemicals and crashed.

Crashed with a passenger train.

And now Frederick Jacobi Dukes was going to help fix it.

No pressure, right?


Fred looked from his watch to the driveway as he sat in front of the Mansion. He'd been told to wait for transportation that would come for the younger volunteers, and was doing a horrible job of hiding his apprehension as he sat and pulled off his cigarette, nearly killing the whole thing in one long drag.

Fred looked down at himself. To pass the time waiting, he'd put a large red 'X' on the front of his sweater and on the back of his jacket. 'Maybe it'll help them find my body when I explode', Fred thought with a sigh. He inhaled smoke again, 'What am I doing here...?"


Clarice had blinked back to the school from the crash site to get supplies and check on things there briefly. Donning her Red X hat and jacket, she dashed outside to check on things. Damn but she hated that it was Red X. Red was not her colour. Spying Fred, in his large jacket and hat with the X's on it she headed over to him, "You coming?" she asked, she hadn't met him yet, but that didn't mean much.


Fred almost fell on his ass when Clarice seemed to appear out of nowhere. He still hadn't gotten used to the idea of teleportation, but it wasn't as jarring as the first time he'd seen Kurt do it. He coughed and looked around, "Uh, uhm...yea, but I, uh...I was told to wait, uh...here?"


"Good place to wait," was here any better than over there? Not really, but not important. Looking him up and down she made a face, "You okay?" he looked nervous. Really nervous, "First time out?"


Fred looked back to Clarice as he lit another cigarette, "That obvious?" he said, then immediately thereafter smiled. He had never been one to really be able to hide what he was feeling, "Nevermind. Stupid question. Uh, yea. Yea, it's my first time. I'm Fred. Fred Dukes." He said, a bit stunted, and offered his non-cigarette holding hand to Clarice.


"Clarice Ferguson," she said, taking his hand and giving it a brief shake. Her grip was strong and firm. "You'll be okay. Just remember, if you have to throw up, don't puke on other people. Find a trash can or something. Nothing wrong with it though," and in these types of situations, who knew what they would find.


Fred blinked a few times, then cleared his throat, "I, uh...I've never thrown up, like, ever. I don't think I can. Might be part of, uhm, my mutation?" Fred stopped himself from rambling, and looked nervously at the pink girl, "Is it really that bad? I mean, does it get that bad?"


She shrugged and looked up at him, "I'm a licensed EMT and I've been doing this since I was about 15. Between our medlab, the mean streets of Westchester County, Red X and being on the team....yeah, it can. Doesn't mean it will," she didn't believe in lying to people about this stuff, "But if your mutation doesn't let you throw up, that could be good or bad. Good because it means I don't have to watch my shoes. Bad because if you do feel sick, there's no way to purge your stomach."


"I, uh, haven't really eaten anything today, so..." Fred just trailed off and looked away as he sighed and continued to smoke heavily. "I, uh, I don't want to let anyone down but, and I know I signed up to help, but...I, uh, I don't think I'm right for...I mean, how do you know? How do you know you're gonna, well, not mess up and get anyone hurt?"


Aww poor kid. He was probably only a few years younger than Clarice, but still. Poor kid. "You don't," she patted his arm, her voice soft, "You just do your best. And if you don't know, find out. Think it through. There's nothing wrong with calling for someone with more experience. I'm an EMT-I. There are EMT-II and paramedics over me...and there are still nurses and doctors above them. But we're all going to help, we're going to do the best we can. And we are going to make a difference," she believed that, though it was sometimes difficult to see.


Fred nodded a bit, "I guess. I just...I know I can help. I know I can do things that...well, normal people can't. But...I just don't...don't wanna fuck up and someone pay the price for it, is all..." and he looked down, crushing his cigarette under his boot.


Smiling slightly, Clarice nodded. Everyone had these concerns and fears, it was normal and good. It showed he cared and was thinking, that was important, "No wants to fuck up, Fred," she said, "just remember what you can do. Don't do it if you aren't sure. You won't fuck up if you keep a cool head. This isn't a time for theatrics and drama. Just do your job, it'll be okay."


Fred thought for a moment, then smiled and nodded, "Yea...yea, you're right. Uh...thanks, Clarice. I, uh...heh," He took off his cap and scratched his head, "You can, uh, teleport?" that word still felt weird, "If you can get us there I, uh...I don't have to wait..."


"If you want," she shrugged, it wasn't a big deal, "The Pixie Express charges though. One MP3 for every destination," she was joking, but if she got some new music out of this, why not? "Ready?" she opened a disk back to the crash site.


He looked from the disc to Clarice, "If you want music suggestions, check out The Mountain Goats. Really anything with John Darnielle..." and he looked into the disc. He gulped and, after crossing himself, stepped into the disc...