Log: Scott & Clarice

[x-cyclops.livejournal.com]

Clarice finds Scott in the sun room and they both have issues they need to get off their chest.


Clarice was possibly the worst Catholic ever, but confession was sometimes good for the soul. She had no use for priests though. Instead, she sought out Scott, finding him perhaps unsurprisingly in the sunroom. He was probably recharging his batteries. "Scott?" she said hesitantly, unsure if he would welcome a disruption. She had showered and looked better than she had in Genosha, but her bruises were still dark in places on her face and body.

Scott had been dozing in his chair as his body soaked up the sun's rays, he felt so much more solid than he had at the end of Genosha. He hadn't exactly been hiding in the sunroom, but he hadn't thought anyone would come looking for him there. His eye's blinked open and he pushed himself up glancing around the room till he spotted the purple mutant. "Clarice? Is everything ok?" he asked in concern.

She shrugged, "Sure," she replied with just enough sarcasm to be noticeable. "I just..." she came in the room and sat down in the chair next to him, legs Indian style, "I cracked, Scott. I should probably be off the team."

Scott winced at the sarcastic tone and leaned back in his chair examining the young woman. "Why would you think that? Do you want to be taken off the team Clarice?"

"No, but...I let everyone down," she explained, "You even said you were disappointed in me when we were in prison. When they interrogated me, I spilled everything!" Well, not everything, but everything asked. With commentary and  all the redundant information they might never request.

Scott sighed as understanding dawned on him and he leaned forward in his chair. "I was just acting for the guards Clarice. You went through a horrible ordeal, something that no-one could have prepared you for, and you survived. We all survived," he repeated guiltily. "When were were in there, I knew that people would talk, that was inevitable. They were professionals, and knew what they were doing. You did exactly the right thing."

Clarice pursed her lips, grateful for the reassurances, but doubt still plagued her, "Survival," she snorted, "Yeah, I mean, I know we were putting on a show for the guards, but that doesn't mean that there wasn't some truth to it all, you know? And...I don't want to quit. Not now, more than ever. I just don't know if the others will still trust me."

"Survival is important, especially in a situation like that. Sometimes it's the only goal we can aim for," Scott pointed out, "survive and live to fight another day.. He closed his eyes for a moment as he gathered his thoughts. "There may have been some truths mixed in with all the accusation thrown around, but no-one was in their right minds after everything. Do you trust me?"

"Yeah," she replied, confused. She had followed Scott for long enough to trust him, but had also grown up enough to not do it blindly, "I trust you. And...survival...was pretty much all I was going for then. And let the chips fall where they may."

"Well I trust you," he told her seriously. "You weren't the only person who cracked in interrogation. In some way we all gave them what they wanted and the others know that." Scott didn't even want to think about how easily his interrogator had gotten under his skin. He still couldn't look at Charles in the same way and had been avoiding his mentor like the plague. "There's a lot of hurt going around right now, but none of it is aimed at you, I promise. Most of us are still in shock I think."

She hadn't really noticed if anyone else hated her through all her own self-loathing at the moment. "Part of me says they were professionals and we, technically, aren't, but at the same time..." she shrugged and played with a lock of hair, "I always think that we should be...more, I guess. You know?"

"Yea," Scott agreed sadly, "but the only way to learn is through experience or military training." His foot scuffed the ground as he considered his next words, "Charles, the professor, created the team with the intention of us protecting people. But today, in this world we're being exposed to things he never even considered we would be. I guess our training just hasn't caught up to the reality of our situation." he continued morosely.

"Then...we need to fix that," Clarice said. It was easy to say. It was a lot less easy to do. They couldn't exactly join the military, nor should they. She didn't want to interfere with grad school. "I have no idea how. But...we are not equipped to deal with it all. And that's not a failing on your part." She wanted to reassure him.

"If not mine then who?" Scott asked miserably refusing to look up at Clarice, "I make the training programs, I made the plans that got us captured, I even lead my team into a trap. I let you all down, and then I was willing to sacrifice you all." His final admission was made in a quiet voice.

That confession didn't bother Clarice as much as it possibly should have. "No," she disagreed, "You do the best you can. You had no idea something like this was even feasible. So, now you know, you work for fix it so if something insane like this happens again, we're all better prepared," she paused then added, "And I would hope so! I don't know about everyone, but I joined the X-Men to make the world a better place. And I knew there was risk, including death. I never thought becoming a mindless mutate slave was an option, but now we know. If you'd had to sacrifice someone or yourself, then you do it. That's how a good leader works," she was glad it hadn't come to that though.

Scott smiled at Clarice, "Thanks," he leaned back in his chair. " You're right, we can only prepare so something like this doesn't happen again. I don't think anyone could have expected this to happen, the mutate process really come out of the left field. I don't think anyone was expecting it, taking away peoples freedom like that." He shook his head, "I guess this whole thing has thrown me for a loop,. The X-men grapple with death every time we deploy, I know that better than most people. But having it rubbed in our faces like that, its just bringing up old memories; just not the good kind."

Clarice nodded, "We're...all coping," she replied slowly, "It's all we can do. No one anticipated this, but the fact is that it's here whether we like it or not. And we dealt as best we could, whether we like how we did it or not, and we go on. We adapt. This is why we're X-Men, right? To stop this sort of thing. And we did, even if it was sort of a jumble."

"It wasn't as neat as I would have liked," Scott agreed, "but we got the job done and managed to make it home in one piece." The rationales and explanations he had heard for the X-men ran through his mind, Charles' dream to promote a world where mutants and humans could co-exist peacefully seemed little more than a dream at times like this. Scott felt his resolve crystallize, "It's what the X-men do, we deal with the monsters."

The world was a dark, terrible place well before the X-Men came around. It was also a bright, wonderful place as well. Clarice had seen both sides of it. The X-Men were merely one cog in the great, interconnected miasma of life. "Yes. It is."