Log: Scott and Haller

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A night of communications duty turns into an impromptu counselling session

Scott tried to balance the pizza, coffee, book and magazine in his hands as he pushed open the door to the communications room. With no missions out of the mansion he expected communications duty to be quiet tonight, a chance for him to catch up on his reading.

Jim looked up from the row of silent monitors mounted on one wall and gave Scott a vague wave. Every one of them was set to a 24 hour news channel with closed captions engaged. Occasionally something relevant could be gleaned from the crawl or a breaking news segment, but usually all he had to show for it was far too much information on D-list celebrities. Nonetheless, he kept a notebook next to him in case anything stood out.

"Just to warn you, it's slow," said the telepath as the older man took a seat. An RSS feed crawled across a nearby screen. "Hoping-for-a-Brotherhood-attack slow."

"That slow huh?" Scott replied. "Well they do say that no news is good news." He reached over to flip open the pizza box and picked up a slice. "Although maybe a small attack might not be too bad" he admitted with a grin.

"It would be a nice change of pace." Jim consulted his notebook. "So far the only thing I have for follow-up is an accusation from a girl in Minnesota that a man used some sort of powers to compel her into sex." His mouth twisted in distaste. "I'm going to let the professor handle that one."

Scott grimaced, "You're right, that's probably best left for Charles to handle. Although I'm sure there are plenty of people who would want to have a little talk with him if he's guilty". He shook his head, "I can't understand why someone would abuse their powers like that" he commented

Taking a bite of his pizza Scott ran an eye over the bank of monitors, "Looks like the Christmas advertising is really going at it this year" he said nodding at one of the monitors.

"Yeah, it feels like they started right after Halloween and skipped Thanksgiving entirely. Or maybe it just seems that way to me. My family knew Christmas as 'that time of year everything closes'." Jim sighed and claimed a piece of pizza on his own. "I wonder if somewhere, right now, someone is using mind-control to get a better deal at Wal-Mart."

Scott smiled sadly, "The sad truth? There probably is, if there is a way someone can abuse their powers then it's probably happening somewhere. Although given the prices they charge" he shrugged, "even ordering a pizza is a lot more expensive than I remember."

Jim gave him a lopsided smile. "Did movies also only cost a nickel when you were a kid? Although I guess if the price really bothers you, you could place an online order and tell Sarah her final exam is to see if she can convince their computer to undercharge you . . ."

"Tempting" Scott mused, "Although what kind of example would we be setting to our students. Maybe we'll save that one for a special occasion" he said returning the grin. "Making me sound like an old fogey you whippersnapper, in my day people respected their elders" he continued his eyes roving over the screens.

"I'm allowed. Half the voices in my head still think they're under eighteen, and one of those is disrespectful by definition." Jim raised an eyebrow as he took another bite of pizza. "Come on, like you've never used your spacial awareness to shark someone at pool."

"I can neither confirm or deny the history with pool" Scot returned dryly, "Now if you'd like to learn first hand after we get done here..."

He nodded at the monitors showing a report on the financial crisis, "Seems like the world just keeps sliding further towards disaster".

"I'd rather fight evil mutants than work on financial reform. At least our way you're allowed to punch people." Jim sighed and retrieved a fallen chunk of cheese from the console. He hated getting grease on the equipment; he didn't know how much it cost, but he didn't want to guess how many zeroes it involved. "Though we've had people who can see the future, and someone who can build anything . . . it feels like there has to be someone with a mutant power in accounting out there."

"Both jobs are important" Scott noted, "we couldn't do what we do unless someone else handles the financial side of things". Scott reached over and picked up another slice of the pizza, careful to use is spare hand to catch any strands of cheese that fell.

"The mutant power of accounting wouldn't be the strangest thing we've come across" he said pensively.

"It would be more practically useful than most powers." The younger man finished his slice and furtively wiped his hand on his jeans. "To be honest, if I weren't on the team and just living a normal life I wouldn't be doing anything with my TK that couldn't also be accomplished with one of those assist-arms or . . . well, a match."

Scott smiled wryly, "If I wasn't at the mansion...I don't think I'd really get much use out of my powers. They're hardly the most household friendly" he admitted. "Where do you think you'd like to be if you weren't here, Jim?" he asked.

"I'll stick with therapy. I'll finish the degree one of these days, even if I keep having to part-time it." Jim rubbed the back of his head. "Maybe go back to the UK. I spent a pretty good part of my life on Muir. And they could use my speciality."

"That sounds nice" Scott agreed, "but I meant if there was no Charles, if none of this existed. Where do you think you would be?" As he spoke Scott waved his hand in a vague gesture which was meant to indicate the entire mansion.

Jim gave him a faint smile. "I'm going to assume you mean if everything had gone right with my manifestation, not the smart-ass 'still in a coma' answer. Um . . ." The younger man dropped his eyes to his notebook, his forehead creasing. "I don't know. But I think . . . still in mental health. I think that was something that started before my powers ever did. I can't remember wanting to do anything else." Jim turned his odd-colored eyes back to Scott. "How about you? What did you want to be when you grew up?"

"Well I'd like to think that I'd still be doing something involving teaching or mechanics" Scott replied. "But truthfully" he smiled sadly, "if Charles hadn't come along when he did I'd probably have ended up dead or in some kind of street gang. I really don't think I'd have been able to pull myself out of the rut I had caught myself in."

The telepath snorted quietly. "Yeah. When you grow up desperate and angry, it's easy to die stupid." Like Jemail had. Jim pinched the bridge of his nose and gave Scott a wry smile. "It's weird, but it's almost comforting. That for whatever's happened to us and whatever we've seen here, it didn't really . . . hurt us, I guess. I worry about that happening to some of the kids, sometimes, but at least <I>we</I> had problems long before our mutations."

"Well that's why we're here" Scott replied gesturing to the array of screens. "If we can get to them fast enough, get them early enough maybe we can save them from ending up like us." He laughed, "Of course that says nothing about what'll happen to them when they get here, it's not always...normal."

"Yeah. That's what I worry about. Not so much the accidents -- I mean, temporarily becoming your Halloween costume or getting a contact high from a classmate isn't so bad, but we're got so many kids in the same place . . . there's always the risk something goes badly wrong, like an attack, and we'll lose someone like we did Soph--"

Jim stopped himself, but not fast enough. Sophie's death was something he allowed himself to speak of with the professor or his therapist. It shouldn't be with Scott. Not the man who had brought the sisters to the school. Not the man whose wife had been the target of the attack that had ultimately lead to the girl's death.

The younger man spread his long-fingered hands across the notebook in his lap. "Sorry," he said quietly.

Scott looked down at his hands, not trusting his voice to reply as he remembered the panic and heartbreak of July. "I-" he started before trailing off. "Sorry" he said, looking away from the telepath as he rubbed his eyes with the back of an arm. "It's just...still raw I guess" he confided hesitantly. "It was my worst nightmare come to life; when I heard about Jean and then Sophie. It's the news I was dreading at the West Coast Annex. I know we put our lives on the line in missions, but...she...the...if I'd been here, I might have been able to do something. I might have saved them," he finished in a small voice, refusing to look at Haller.

"No," Jim said softly, "you couldn't have." It would be a lie to say he hadn't wracked his brain for anything he could have done differently, too, but intellectually he knew nothing he'd done would have mattered. He shook his head and raised his eyes back to Scott. "I wasn't even the one Matthews was after, and he almost killed Amelia to prove a point. He would have killed you to get to Jean. He'd have made her feel you die, and if that had happened I don't know if we'd have gotten her back."

Scott turned to face Haller, "I'd have killed him first, god forgive me"  he ground out anguish causing his voice to crack, "If I ever catch up to him..." he looked down sadly "I couldn't touch him, could I?" he asked. "I just felt...feel so powerless. I might not have been able to stop him, but I might have been able to do something. But no, I was on the other side of the country. Jean needed me and I was camping. How do I live with that?"

"The same way those of us who were here and still couldn't help did -- not dwelling on what can't be changed." Jim sighed and leaned back in his chair. And if Scott <I>had</I> been there, if he had been somehow able to save Jean . . . would that have been better for Jean, or would it have just left her feeling more helpless, that she hadn't been able to save herself? But Jim understood, too, where Scott was coming from. He remembered, years ago now, the look in Betsy's eyes as she talked about Essex and what had been done to her. Knowing even as he took the bottle away from her that there was no amount of love and nothing he could do that could keep her from picking it up again once he was gone. When you loved someone, no suffering was private.

Around the two men, news anchors continued to report their stories in silence.

"All we can do is deal with what we're left with," Jim continued at last, "not what we should've done. It's not a lot, but trying to do better next time is better than being stuck."

Scott smiled sadly, "Maybe, but it really doesn't help me feel any better. First Alex, now Jean and Sophie. Chalk up another mark on the list of people Scott Summers wasn't able to protect when he needed to." He shook his head. "Maybe you're right, I can't change the past so I've gotta look to what comes next. Maybe I should try to get Jean out of here for Christmas, we could probably do with a break."

He turned to face the younger man. "Any Christmas plans, Jim?" he asked, unwilling to delve any further into that particular topic.

The telepath studied Scott's face, and saw quite clearly that this portion of the conversation was over. He could have pushed harder, but he'd gone against Scott's stubbornness before. They would run out of coffee long before that wall wore down. If Scott wanted to talk, he would talk . . . but not before then.

And so the two men let the conversation slide back to current events and holiday plans, while on the monitors the world rolled on.