xp_logs | Forge and Fred, Tuesday evening

After their earlier disagreement, Fred comes to Forge's office with an unexpected peace offering.

Fred had been putting off this particular visit for as long as his conscience would allow.

Which wasn't really all that long at all, as it turned out.

Fred made his way down the myriad hallways of the Mansion and came to a stop in front of Forge's office. On his last visit, Fred had pretty vehemently hoped that he'd be able to avoid this guy for the rest of his tenure at the school. Now...well, Fred wasn't any older than when he first came, but he sure as hell felt a little wiser.

Fred adjusted the small brown parcel he carried under his arm a bit, and coughed. Finally, after several seconds of indecision, he knocked heavily on the thick wooden door of the office.

A long few seconds passed, then a series of red lights lit up around the door handle, changing one by one to green before the door clicked open.

"Mister Dukes," came the barely-audible voice that seemed to emanate from somewhere behind a large array of devices that resembled gyroscopes of varying sizes, all spinning at different speeds. "I'm going to guess you have something to discuss, unless the Teen Girl Squad has drafted you as a delivery boy. One of the advantages to working here is that occasionally some of our more aggressively-domestic students take it upon themselves to keep the workaholic types well-fed."

Forge ducked his head out from around the rotating devices that covered and towered over his desk, wiping his hands briefly on a rag as he perused one of the spinning wheels and jotted down notes on a digital pad. "Either way, what brings you by?"

Fred sighed a little in relief. There didn't seem to be any lingering hostilities from their discussion on Forge's part, and that made it all the easier to do what he came here too, "Uh, naw....naw, it's not food, it's more...well...an apology really..."

Fred pulled a twelve pack of Steel Reserve from the brown paper bag, and put it on one of the sparse empty surfaces of the room.

Forge arched an eyebrow expressively. "I am not going to even ask where you obtained that, or give you the obligatory lecture on the appropriateness of carrying around alcohol while still a minor in the care of this Institute..." he began, but then stopped himself. He walked around the desk and sat cross-legged on one of the chairs, motioning Fred towards another. "I'm going to assume this is about our previous discussion, am I right?"

"Yea," Fred rubbed the back of his neck, "I owe ya an apology. I came in here, asked you for something you didn't wanna give, and then started shooting my mouth off when I couldn't have it." Fred winced slightly, and sat in an uncrowded chair across from Forge, before he continued, "I know better than to act like a damn child, but I didn't, and for that I'm sorry. Just wanted to speak my peace, is all..."

Forge chuckled slightly. "Fred, you're seventeen. Seventeen and you've been thrown into a situation where things seem out of control, and you want to try and get some back. It may not seem like it, but I know exactly what that's like."

He laced his fingers together, watching the interplay of flesh and machine as he fidgeted slightly, lost for a moment in memory. "When I was your age - and don't ask how long ago that was, because it's kind of complicated - one of the X-Men was taken by Magneto and brainwashed. All we knew was that she'd gone missing, and I wanted to help find her. So I made a device that could track Magneto, or at least his power. I went to Scott - I went to him and I told him I could help, I practically demanded to get on the Blackbird and go off hunting Magneto down myself."

He laughed out loud as he recalled that particular conversation. "Needless to say, he shot down that idea pretty damn quick. And yeah, I was pretty pissed. I felt like he was treating me like some dumb child, talking down to me, not taking me seriously. Sound familiar?"

Fred listened with rapt attention. He'd heard hushed rumors about Magneto, and was daunted just by the sight of Mr. Summers. To hear this kind of story was kind of overwhelming for Fred. He shook his head a little, and exhaled loudly, "I know sir, but...I just feel like, even with the medicine and the meditating and everything..." he sighed again, "I don't know. All I know is I had no right to talk to you like that. And it, uh, it took a train wreck to see it..."

Fred moved his shoulders around a little, uncomfortable with talking about himself this intimately, "I realized out there that, because of what I am, I saved lives. I couldn't ah done that, done what I did tah help, if I wasn't a mutant, warts and all...uh, so to speak..."

"We are what we are, Fred," Forge said, spreading his hands in front of him. "Because of what I can do, Magneto had Lorna - that was the X-Man that he brainwashed - he had her kidnap me. The Brotherhood kept me prisoner for weeks while they made me work on a weapon for them. The Neutralizer - like an inhibitor collar, a device that could take away a mutant's powers. He wanted to use it against Professor Xavier, against the X-Men."

A small smirk crossed Forge's face. "I used it to escape. When the X-Men found us and tried to spring us, I used it to take Lorna off the board. Nailed myself on the ricochet, and spent a bit of time without my powers until I recovered. And I thought - what if that was it, you know? What if I hadn't recovered? To live out the rest of my life as just a human, knowing what I'd once been capable of?"

He let the question hang in the air before speaking again. "Flowers for Algernon," he said, a seeming non sequitur. "It's a story about a simpleton who becomes a genius, and then loses it all and has to live out the rest of his life remembering that greatness he can never again achieve. That was almost me, Fred. And that was almost what could have been forced on any number of mutants like us. So when I say that I won't build something to take away that greatness - no matter what curse our gifts may come with - I can't be part of taking that away. What we are, what we can do - you saw it there at the train wreck. We are what we are, Mister Dukes. And that," Forge said with a quiet smile, "is nothing short of astonishing."

Fred sat quietly for several moments as he made sure he soaked in each individual word. When he spoke again, it was barely above a whisper, "Were I not what I was, who I was...I, uh...I never really thought about it past, well, uh, well me...I never, uh, I still don't get the whole 'community' thing of it but..." Fred took a breath, then another one, "I've given it some thought sir, and...for all the pain, all the jokes at my expense...because of what I am, I saved the life of a girl I care about a long time ago, and I saved those people on the train and...I just...I know, I know now that it's worth something...that, heh...that it's all worth something...does that...that make sense...?"

"Some days," Forge replied, "it's the only thing that does."

He stood up, placing his hand on the case of malt liquor. "As for this," he said, "I'll conveniently forget how it got into my office. But really, man. Steel Reserve? Where the hell are you from, Lubbock?"

Fred smiled broadly, "Born and raised, sir." As if by deep seated reflex, he raised a fist about shoulder high, "Go Red Raiders"

Forge laughed and returned the gesture. "Southeast Dallas High School. Go, um... Rancheros! I'd give some platitude about proud Texans but I've never been any good at those. But what say I go stash these in my suite," he tapped the case with one hand, "and we go find some Yankees who need a bit of humiliation out on the basketball court, yeah?"

"Long as I can be defender, we'll be fine," Fred said, and made his way towards the door.