Frank and Angelo: Unpleasant Conversations

[x-pinnochio.livejournal.com]

Angelo asks what's up with Frank lately. The conversation does not end well.

"Frank?" Angelo said, appearing in his office doorway. "Could I have a word? In here, please."

Frank glanced up warily from the pile of letters he was folding. He was half tempted to ask why, but instead he rose and entered Angelo's office. "So... what have I done?" he asked cautiously. This had all the hallmarks of a serious dressing down.

"Nothing major", Angelo assured him. "I'm not firing you or anything, just... a couple of things I noticed today. You seem kind of... irritable."

Frank tensed slightly at that, before forcing himself to relax. It was Angelo. Angelo always meant well. "It's nothing," he managed eventually. "I'm fine. Just... got some details brought home to me, is all."

"Something that happened in the magic cave Billy was talking about?" Angelo prompted gently. "Or something about Topaz?" Or both, he guessed it could be, but that was enough for now.

This time, Frank didn't relax. "Both," he replied, carefully. "They're symptoms of an underlying problem. It's fine."

"'Symptoms of an underlying problem' and 'fine' don't really go together", Angelo pointed out. "Look, I can't make you talk to me. But I'd like it if you would, if there's something wrong."

"Angelo, seriously, nothing's wrong," Frank growled, before catching himself. "I just... figured out some stuff." He glanced up, catching Angelo's eye. He wasn't going away.

Frank sighed, and sat down, a little of the fight draining out of him. "This is the way we live," he said eventually. "We're... weird. We're different. So we don't fit into things like normal people. Things chase us down, or pick fights with us, or whatever, and I... I finally understood that. That's all."

That got a wry half-smile. "You know you tend to downplay things, right? Been there, learned that, it's always a tough one when that first sinks in. And we can both be glad I'm not Nate Dayspring, when I was in your shoes he got me to talk by needling until I punched him."

Frank didn't laugh. "Good to know. Can I go? I have, like... a hundred more letters to fold. And I have homework for Kyle due soon, so I kind of have to go after that." That's right. Run away. That always works

Angelo eyed him. "What would you do if I said no, you can't go?"

There was a long, uncomfortable silence. Then, "are you going to say no?"

"Well, I - actually probably could keep you prisoner in this room, if I really wanted to, but that would be counter-productive and all kinds of wrong. So, leave if you feel like you have to, but I'll only hunt you down again later."

That did it.

"Angelo, look at me." Frank stared at him, face blank, and shifted into wood. "You see this? This is me. This is what I am. And because of this, every day from here on in, I am going to deal with shit. That's the truth. That's my lot in life. And if it's bad now, it's only gonna get worse. From here until I die-probably young- shit. And considering what you deal with here? In X-Corps? You know that's true too. Everywhere in the god-damn world, people like us? Shit. And fuck! I'm one of the lucky ones! I'm still alive, I just got expelled from school. I just came somewhere that's got a god-damn mutant paramilitary force downstairs. I just got in a fight with a scorpion made of freakin' rock.

"I just got my head turned off. And I know Topaz didn't mean to," he continued, not letting Angelo speak. "I know she's sorry. I even understand. But so the fuck what? She still did it. And she's got better control over what she does then some of us, so this isn't going to be the last time it happens. And that's assuming I don't do it. You know I still don't know how I do what I do? So what if it doesn't stay here? What if it changes, or gets worse, or something?

"One way or another, Angelo, this is my life now. You can't change that, because it's your life too. So what are you going to say that's going to make that okay?"

"Ah, Frankie." Angelo shook his head, but it wasn't remotely dismissive - quite the opposite, it was wry and affectionate. "Every single one of us that grew up here has had those thoughts. And you know what? I can't say anything right here and now that'll make you feel better. Except that there are people - not just X-Corps, people all over America, all over the world - working to change things. I can't fix your powers control or tell you anything about how your mutation works, and I definitely can't promise you it won't develop into something different, but I can tell you the future doesn't have to be dark. When I was your age, I hated my life because I wanted the old one back. I fought with the staff, I broke the rules and more than a couple of laws, I did everything I could to get kicked out up to and including running off to Mexico. And then I met the one person who could give me a different focus and something to hope for. Something to work on. You've just got to find your something, it might not be Elpis or X-Corps, but it's out there."

"I know what my something is," Frank replied bluntly. "This means I can't do it. You ever heard of a mutant journalist, Angelo?" The thing was, he wasn't even angry. He was resigned. After a moment, he turned towards the door.

"I have homework to do," he muttered.

"Oh no, none of that." Angelo's voice was suddenly sharp, and strips of skin shot out past Frank and held the door closed. "Homework can wait a while, we're talking about this. There are mutant doctors, there are mutant lawyers, the freaking prime minister of Hungary is a mutant. Me, I've got every intention of being America's first mutant senator and maybe more. So you tell me, Frank, what the hell makes you think this is going to stop you being a journalist if you don't let it?"

There was a pause. Then, "open the god-damn door, Angelo." The tone was dark and brimming with undirected anger. "I don't have to explain myself to you."

"No, you don't", Angelo agreed, and released the door. "But I really never thought you were this much of a quitter."

Despite what he'd said earlier, it was pointed and deliberate, aimed at giving Frank a focus for his anger.

It worked. Frank didn't even think about what happened next. With a barely conscious snarl, he spun on his heel, lunged, and lashed out at Angelo's jaw.

The punch - still with a wooden fist - connected and the smaller man went down, conscious but momentarily too stunned to bounce back up.

Frank didn't stop. He pounced, fists swinging, raining blows down on Angelo's chest and shoulders.

Angelo was well able to defend himself without hitting back, shielding himself with his arms and his powers equally - and, eventually, clamping skin over Frank's nose and mouth so that the boy would have to retreat out of hitting range or pass out.

For a few moments, Frank continued to swing wildly, before grabbing at the skin and tugging wildly. After a few seconds of violent struggling, he managed to pull himself free. He staggered back against the far wall, panting heavily, and stared at Angelo.

There was a moment of silence, as the anger cleared. Then Frank realised what he'd done. Something like real terror passed over his features, and he fled from the room.

Angelo let him go, knowing stopping him would do nobody any good right now, and picked himself up to catch his breath.

"...well, that could have gone worse", he said to the empty room.