Shiro & Nick, then Jean-Paul

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Nick comes to Shiro to ask about what to do with Catseye. LOL.


Nicholas Gleason was doing one of the things he did best in the mansion. Pacing. He had walked back and forth several times down the same hallway, intent on a particular room several times before just turning and walking right back to the front of the hallway. This whole act had gone on for the better part of ten minutes when Nick finally threw up his hands a let out a sigh, obviously giving up on his goal. But as he turned back, to begin his pacing back to the hall's entrance, he nearly fell backwards as he ran directly into someone. Ironically, the same person he was attempting to visit.

That same person wasn't so lucky and fell with an annoyed grunt onto his butt. Had Shiro actually accepted the doctors' offer of crutches then maybe he'd still be standing, but really, only losers needed crutches. "Good afternoon to you, too, Gleason," Shiro sighed as he lifted himself back to his feet. Foot, rather. He balanced himself on his left foot to take the pressure off of his injured right ankle.

The boy scratched the back of his head nervously. "Hey Mr. Yoshida..." He forced a tiny smile to perk up the corners of his lips as he watched Shrio try to stand. "It seems like I can't run into you without, you know, running into you..." The boy quickly moved to the man's side, offering a hand towards the person he considered to be his mentor at the mansion. "Can I help you at all?" He knew the answer before he asked, but he thought that he could at least make the offer.

"Thank you, but no. May I help you?" Shiro led Nick back down the hall to his empty suite and unlocked the front door. The sitting room was spartan, just a couple of couches, a coffee table, and a television; neither he nor Tommy had much of an eye for interior design, and with Tommy gone, there was even less to decorate.

"Um... yes actually..." As he slowly broke the threshold into the room, the boy again jammed his hands into his pockets, rocking back onto his heels, his nerves getting the best of him. He liked the room, it reminded him of his own back home in its simplicity. He pushed a strand of hair out of his eyes. "Do you mind if I sit down for a bit?"

Shiro waved a hand at the couch and hobbled into the kitchen. "Please. Would you like some tea?" He poured himself a mug of water, and a few seconds in his hand had it steaming.

"Please." Nick nodded his head. He was sure that no matter how much time he spent at the mansion, he still would never fully get used to food preparation with powers. As he waited for his tea, Nick slowly turned his head to the side, trying to find the right words to pose as his question. "Mr. Yoshida, have you ever done anything that at the time it felt awesome and really right actually, but later you were afraid of people finding out about because of what they might think?"

Nick was answered by the sounds of fallen mugs, spilled water, and exotic cursing. Thankfully the mugs were designed to withstand the heat of Shiro's powers so were tough enough to not shatter. "I am sure that is something that many people experience," he replied, bending down to pick up the mugs and refill them. "Why do you ask?"

The boy jumped in the air at the sound of the mug hitting the ground, he still was a bit jumpy. As he nerves returned to him, he slowly began fiddling with his hands in his lap, obviously still nervous. "There was something that happened between myself and another student and..." He took a deep breath in. "I'm nervous about the repercussions."

Then maybe you shouldn't have done it, Shiro almost said, until he noticed the blaring hypocrisy of that statement. Alpha's face was barely human, blackened in spots, bone showing through the shredded flesh at his temple. Shiro's stomach lurched and he nearly dropped the mug again. "What happened?" he finally managed to say.

"I... uh..." He paused for a second before taking a deep breath in one more time. He had to make a quick decision. There were only two people in the mansion he trusted enough to go to with his problems, and one he obviously couldn't talk to about this one. Finally Nick closed his eyes, making the choice to be up front and honest with Shiro. He thought that he needed that outlet right now. "I kissed Catseye..." Saying the words was a bit of a rush. Both a release and a revelation.

"You did what?" Though not far removed from adolescence himself, Shiro had fallen victim to the tendency to forget what it was like to be a teenager and what constituted altercations that could lead to nerve-wracking consequences. It was actually quite relieving, in a way. "But you went to Pr . . . Never mind. How did she react?"

"She actually initiated it." The boy’s eyes again fell to the ground, as he tried to sort through his feelings as they all seemed to be hitting him at once. "She actually surprised me with it, and now I have no idea what to do." Squinting his eyes, he found Shiro's place in the room. "I mean it's Catseye..." He continued to notice his breathing was increasing, but just hoped that the man in the room with him would have some kind of calming advice.

"I am the last person you ought to ask for girl advice, Gleason." Even Jay could offer better words, he was sure. Floor wiped, and mugs full of hot, brewing tea, Shiro very carefully hobbled back into the common room and handed a mug to Nick. "If you like her and she likes you then I suppose she is worth pursuing."

"It's not necessarily girl advice that I'm looking for." He nodded slightly in thanks as he took the tea. "It's more about trying to find my place in the world." He slowly took a sip of the tea, giving himself time to think. "I mean, getting so close to Catseye made me think about her place. Is she more of a cat, or is she more of a human? And while it's fun to think about with her, it's hard when I turn it back on myself. I mean, I'm still adjusting to living my life as a mutant instead of a human. But what if I'm not either. What if I'm really, something else..." He paused for a second, the thought of the mythological werewolf myths jumping into his head.

"Doubtful, I should think. That much is resolved with a simple blood test. And you are no less human because you are also a mutant. One comes with the other." Shiro sipped his tea. He didn't know the girl at all, only knew anything about her through the journals or other people's accounts of her. "Kissing you seems like quite a human action, ne?"

"It does." Nick said with a smile already feeling a little bit of a relief from the talk with Shiro. He nodded his head for a second as he took another sip, turning slowly towards his companion. "You know, your advice is always simple and to the point, but it always helps Mr. Yoshida..."

"Shiro," he corrected. While the formal title sounded nice and he appreciated the honor it bestowed, it wasn't deserved, not after There was pain, horror -- but no incredulity on the part of the dying man, no disbelief that help was being withheld just beyond arm's reach. "All those years of therapy must be paying off," he joked weakly. Who'd have thought that he of all people would be advising anyone?

"Whatever it is, keep it up," Nick added with a chuckle of his own. He took one final sip of the tea before placing it down in front of him and standing. "Thank you for the tea, and the advice. Both are appreciated." The boy slowly began to walk towards the door. "I don't know where I'd be here without you." It was both a heart-felt, and true statement.

Shiro reddened, part humility but mostly guilt. He bowed his head in gratitude. "I think you overstate my contribution, but you are welcome. Good luck, I suppose."

~*~

Later, Jean-Paul comes to visit Shiro following the mission in Wyoming, and Shiro admits the truth about what really happened there.


Jean-Paul had been certain that he'd only stayed in medlab long enough to assure himself that Nathan was truly going to be all right...or at least wasn't going to die immediately...so he was surprised to find that not only had Shiro already been released, but that it was dark outside when he reached the ground floor and that he was starving.

At least the latter gave him an excuse to show in front of Shiro's suite with dinner preparations in-hand.

The knock on his door was first met with silence, and then a couple of thumps followed by muffled cursing. The door opened a minute later, revealing a haggard and disgruntled Shiro balancing on one foot. "Jean-Paul," he greeted in surprise. "Hello. Come in." He hopped aside to give him space.

"Shiro." Jean-Paul held up a grocery bag. "I figured that since everyone else came back worse for wear, it stood to reason that you could use a bit of healing fuel yourself." He gave his friend an up-and-down look. "You are going to fall over."

"I am a trained martial artist and athlete," Shiro protested, hobbling behind Jean-Paul. He flopped down onto his couch and awkwardly twisted himself to watch his friend head straight to the kitchenette, now mostly empty following Tommy's departure for California. "I have a superb sense of balance, thank you."

"And you look ridiculous stumping about on one foot," Jean-Paul pointed out. The nice thing about being the only one in the kitchen was that he could flit about the danger of running into anyone or beaning anyone in the head with bits of food being prepared at high speeds. Ninety seconds and change later, there was a kettle heating on the stove and Jean-Paul handling the last of the clean-up. "I will handle the rice in a bit, but we have time to talk while that cooks." He came to settle on the couch next to Shiro. "Nathan said you have something to tell me."

"He did?" The friendly scoff expression Shiro had been wearing disappeared and was replaced with nothing. He stared ahead blankly as images of his confrontation with Alpha replayed in his head. "What did he say?"

"Not much more than that," Jean-Paul said, leaning on the arm of the couch. "I was more concerned with getting him down to the medlab than in making conversation."

That sneaky bastard. "I am sure that I know what he wants me to tell you, but I do not know why." A lie, and Shiro kept his gaze away from Jean-Paul. "I encountered the man behind Taygetos and pursued him so he would not escape. His own operatives - the children - got to him first, though. I was too slow."

"Alpha." The name left a sour taste in Jean-Paul's mouth. "I will not shed any tears for the man." Shiro continued to evade his gaze and Jean-Paul cocked his head curiously. "What happened?"

"You cook. I am sure you have had to de-skin fish or meat before." There was nothing to add to that, certainly. Shiro looked down at his hands folded on his lap. "They had already begun by the time I caught up. I would have been there sooner had it not been for the little girl who injured my ankle."

'You can fly.' Jean-Paul caught the words as they headed for his lips, regarding his friend intensely. "Begun, but not finished, I take it." He was quiet a moment longer. "But you were injured. It is too bad. Alive and in the hands of telepath, he might have been useful."

"I doubt any telepath save Emma Frost would have the will to infiltrate that mind. He was defiant through death." Shiro brushed his hair away from his face and left his hand behind his ear, frozen in contemplation. "Do you . . . how do you feel, knowing that the man who had hurt you so has been eliminated?"

"I never saw his face for myself," Jean-Paul said quietly. "Only through Nathan's memories. When I..." He breathed out slowly, keeping himself firmly under control. "When my own memories are clear enough, the face I remember from my capture is Shrine's, standing over me in that white room. I know he is dead. I also know that he was not the one giving the orders." The order to have him taken apart. The order to fire on Nathan and the children shielding him. "So...one less fear. Eventually, one less nightmare. I hope."

"I hope so, too. When Skin told me he was nearby and within reach, all I could think about was catching him to make him face justice and pay for what he did. To Cable, to those children . . . to you especially," Shiro added hoarsely.

"Shiro." Jean-Paul settled one hand carefully on the younger man's shoulder. "I am not sorry that he is dead, but my concern is not for that man, only what the repercussions will be for those I care about. What...what are you going to need?"

The touch made Shiro tense up in spite of the desire to completely let go and fall into it. He craved the comfort that the gesture offered, but felt sick at the idea of accepting it. Not after what he'd done. "I need nothing. There is nothing to give me. Jean-Paul . . . if I tell you something, can you promise to keep it a secret? To everyone. Cyclops, the Professor, even Cable."

Jean-Paul hesitated. "I can promise not to speak of it, but I should warn you that I still have telepaths going in and out of my head for therapeutic purposes these days. The Professor and Jean, they do not pry, do not go looking for secrets, but I am sure they see a fair number of my memories."

Now was Shiro's turn to hesitate. "If I told you that Alpha's death may have been preventable, how would you react?"

"Given what we have just spoken of? I would not be entirely surprised," Jean-Paul said. He waited another moment, waiting for Shiro to clarify, but it didn't seem forthcoming as of yet. "X-Men do not kill, but you can say tell yourself that you did not kill him. You can say that he was only receiving the rewards he had earned through his own cruelty." And Jean-Paul knew that he was stalling against answering the question. "I know that I should disapprove. I am sure if I tried hard enough that I could find reasons to. But this man used and murdered children, ordered my mind cut to pieces, and tortured and attempted to kill the man who is as close to me as my own blood. You made certain that he will not do so again and removed the possibility that his involvement in the horrors Taygetos perpetrated would mean that he was useful enough for someone else to keep alive. I am not so upstanding a man that I could condemn you for that."

"I have asked myself what more I could have done. Should have done, maybe. If I had wanted to be faster or if I had intervened, then I may have saved him then, but I do not know if the injuries he had already suffered would have been the end, anyway." Shiro clenched his fists, the air around them shimmering in sudden intense heat. "I have told myself that my decision sealed his fate, that I did kill him, and that what I did was the right thing. That he did not deserve real justice. I acted as a vigilante, and I cannot bring myself to regret it."

It was the flare heat that finally caused Jean-Paul to remove his hand from Shiro's shoulder, folding his slightly reddened palm under without a word.

"There is the problem, non? The reason we are not supposed to do such a thing. This man was a monster by almost any measure. A beast with reason, but no mercy. Even without the wrong he has done to us personally, it is easy to let his death go, even if we do not have the right to do so." He shook his head. "I know what I am supposed to say to this, all the moral arguments. But I do not think I need to. I do not see you putting yourself in this position again."

The sudden loss of contact was a shock back to reality, and he swore when he saw what he was doing. He stood up and swore again upon seeing the scorch marks on the couch and carpet from where he sat. "Sorry. That should not have happened." That it was a malfunction of his own and not simply his powers went implied.

"I will live." Jean-Paul rose to stand with him. "I know you said that you need nothing. Do you...simply want anything?"

Shiro finally looked up into Jean-Paul's eyes. "Tell me you do not hate me. Tell me that I am not a bad person."

Jean-Paul ached and he wished for one insane moment that the bastard were still alive, if only so that Shiro were not in this position. He reached out for Shiro's hand with his uninjured one. "I do not hate you, Shiro. Never. And you are not a bad person."

"I feel like such a fool, asking that of you," Shiro said self-deprecatingly, tearing his gaze away from Jean-Paul. "He did nothing to me, he harmed you, and yet I am asking you for pity. I must be insane."

Jean-Paul stepped closer, gently tilting Shiro's chin so that they looked at each other again. "You watched a man die. You are doubting yourself and asking someone who cares for you for reassurance. You must be human. That is all right. It is a shock to us all when we are reminded of it." The words were delivered without a smile.

"Jean-Paul . . ." Shiro licked his dry lips and tried to turn away, but his gaze was sealed on the other man's face. "Thank you. I hope someday to share your capacity for understanding."
"I hope you come to yours by an easier route than this." He pulled his fingertips back from Shiro's chin. "I can stay tonight if you wish me to. After I see you fed, I mean. You do not seem as if you will be sleeping much."

"I am sleeping well." That much at least was true, although it contributed much to his doubts. "I feel as though I should be more restless, but I am not. If you would like, though . . . Tommy's room is empty so at least you may have a bed. And I promise to knock on the bathroom door this time."