Matt & Clint | Thursday Afternoon

[x-hawkeye.livejournal.com]

Matt and Clint catch up in the rec room, then head outside.


Clint kicked back in the rec room, his review materials for Genetics & Mutation sprawled across his lap and the coffee table in front of him. Several notebooks worth of research and class notes littered the cushions around him but he wasn't actually looking at any of them. Rather, his eyes were closed as he contemplated his schedule for the summer and what he would take here at Xavier's next year. He needed as many AP classes as he could get if hew as going to be able to get credit for them and not spend there rest of his life in school getting his doctorates.

Since the rec room TV wasn't on, Matt headed there to see what was on. He was feeling vaguely social and with his hands still healing, he couldn't follow his usual routine quite yet. Pausing as he reached it, he realized Clint was laying there. Oops. He had focused on the TV not being on meaning that the room wasn't in use. Stepping on papers, he paused, "What's this?" he asked, bending down to pick some of the papers up, fingertips trying to make rhyme or reason of the notes and failing miserably. Papers of some sort.

"Note for Genetics & Mutation with Dr. Grey-Summers," Clint answered. "Finals are coming up and I'm studying. By osmosis. If I sit here surrounded by all this information, it will miraculously make its way into my brain without any real effort on my part." He was exaggerating - he loved the class, loved Dr. Grey-Summers as a teacher. She made things interesting. He was actually pretty well covered for everything in the second semester, he just needed to review all the information they'd gotten during the first semester and then hadn't really been focusing on unless they needed it in the second. "What're you up to? How's college life treating you? No more brawls with surly Atlantean royalty? I totally pegged him with a sock or something for that, by the way."

"So glad you've got my back," Matt replied dryly, amused, "And no, no more fighting with Namor. I think we've reached an agreement," he wasn't sure entirely what it was, but they weren't fighting so it was a win, "'Genetics & Mutation, huh? Ew." Matt wrinkled his nose. It was a great class, but it wasn't the easiest, at least it hadn't been for him. Trying to carefully step around everything without knowing where the papers were, Matt made his way to the other couch, papers crunching under his socked feet. At least he had on socks and not shoes. "College is good. A lot like how they do classes here actually, but you take fewer and have more options. You ready for your senior year, overachiever?" Pot, meet kettle.

"God, yes - I'm taking classes over the summer but I can't figure out which ones. If I want to do science stuff here or go ahead and do some at the local college after I make sure the credits will transfer to wherever I wind up going. And then I'll take some next summer as well or I'll be in school for the rest of my life." Clint paused and opened his eyes, looking over at Matt. "Hey, you're a trainee with the X-Men, right?"

There was a reason Matt was only taking one online class this summer. It had to do with his sanity and apparently Clint had none of that. "I am," he agreed semi-cautiously then held up his hands assuming they were still red. Maybe they weren't anymore, but they were still scabbed, tight and a little tender in places, "I've got another week-ish before I can go back to training."

"Is it hard, having a full schedule at school and doing training, too? I know it's way more in depth than our self defense training, but I don't know a whole lot else. But I'm talking to Mister Summers about becoming a trainee. My dads said they were cool with it and everything." Clint didn't envy Matt his injuries - not at all.

Matt had been lucky, very lucky, that he hadn't hurt his hands worse than he did. This was more uncomfortable and awkward for a while, but there was no lasting damage, nothing too serious now that he was well past the point of getting an infection. Going back to the voice commands for his computer and needing help for school for a few days was not fun at all. At least he's been able to feed himself and mostly be independent, even if limited. "You have to manage your time," Matt agreed, "The good thing is that you can extend your trainee time if you want to do other things with it, so you're not screwed for an internship or something like that. There's not a ton of free time if you want to maintain your grades and stuff," he wasn't complaining, it was worth it all.

"Cool," Clint said, nodding. "That's kind of what I figured." He considered all his extracurriculars and whether or not he'd be able to keep up with them. He'd already talked to Miss Frost about dropping Chess Club, but he needed to see if working with Logan and Laurie would count toward some of his X-Men Trainee training. He really didn't want to drop either of those things and the only other option would be to drop Red-X - but it didn't actually take up all that much time and being CPR certified would probably be good for a trainee, anyway. "You're enjoying all the training? It seems like, even though you got hurt and everything."

Matt nodded, sprawling on the other couch more comfortably, "Yeah. I started out mostly reading stuff, mission logs and things like that. Then I got more into procedures and ops and whatnot before I started in the Danger Room," a lot of it overlapped, too, but working up to these things was important. "And I can do comm duty now, which is boring, but not too bad. It changes your perspective in a way, the self defense stuff is good, but this is the next level, you know?"

"That sounds like the kind of stuff I want to start doing, start learning," Clint said. "And I just... like helping people." He shrugged, figuring Matt would be able to hear the motion. "It seems like it'd be worthwhile."

That was understandable, "Yeah, I get that. Giving back and stuff. Kinda helps to take your powers to the next level too, you use them in different ways. Did you know I can read print? Like, if you write on a piece of paper or it's printed from a regular printer? I can feel the raised ink. Not glossy paper though, like textbooks or magazines," it was actually more difficult for him to read things printed like that, he'd had to repractice the alphabet being so used to braille, but it was still cool and something that he'd never assumed possible.

"Dude, that's awesome - I hadn't thought about it, but that makes a lot of sense. Are you still working on the echolocation thing?" It'd been a while since he and Matt had talked, but last he'd heard, the other boy was working on pinging things with clicks. "I mean, for like riding a bike. I can't remember what you'd worked up to the last time I asked."

In truth, the echolocation stuff had sort of been put on the backburner, "The clicks only work in a small space unless there's good reverb," Matt explained, "but my uniform has a billy club, I can use it as a cane if I need to or to hit something for the reverb. Or of course, to hit someone," it was nonlethal and he had no offensive powers of his own, it made sense to carry something. He also trained on how to use his usual cane as a weapon as needed too, and it was now made of titanium instead of fiberglass. He was a lot less likely to break it that way. "I...should try it on a bike. You wanna?" it had bee years since he'd ridden, he'd had a skateboard when he could see.

"Sure, I'm game if you are," Clint said, amused. "But wasn't that what you were talking about before? Using it on a bike? I honestly can't remember - maybe I'm just making that up in my brain or something."

"If I did, I never actually tried it," Matt couldn't remember saying it, but it was possible. Stretching, he bent backwards almost in half before righting himself. "Shoes....nah. I don't need shoes," it was warm enough outside to go without. "Do you have a bike? Or do we?" Matt assume the school did, but he had no idea now that he thought about it.

"I've seen one in the garage - it's got like, streamers on the handlebars and I'm pretty sure it sparkles but I can't tell what color it is. I'd assume it's something like pink or purple, but it'd be big enough for you, probably," Clint answered, tilting his head to the side. He thought about it for a moment, then decided he'd studied enough for the day. He started gathering up all of his papers and textbooks. "Hang on a sec and I'll get this all stacked you so it's not in everybody's way."

That bike sounded...interesting. "We make a pair," Matt laughed, "you can't see color and I can't see," that amused him for some reason. Probably an immature, stupid one. "What do you see then? Like...I dunno. What's it like?"

"I mean, I guess it's like what everyone else sees, only I see it better. And without color. It's all black, white, and gray. But because of my mutation, I can see a lot farther than other people. Like, more details and things like that," Clint said, thinking about it. "You know what the colors and things are, though, because you could see before, right?"

"Sorta, yeah," Matt agreed a they headed down to the garage to find the bike, "I mean, I know grass is green and a fire truck and my hair are red and the sky and water are blue...but..." he trailed off with a shrug, "It's been about 7 years now. I'm...kinda forgetting..." he said the last softly, almost ashamed. He hadn't meant to forget, he didn't want to, but the colours in his mind were fading. The way he experienced colour was different now, in a way. Red was sharp pain and blue the easy sound of the ocean. It was different and it worked for him, but it wasn't quite what they were discussing. It was okay to tell Clint he didn't remember colours too well, he was in a similar boat, "You could see colours when you were younger, right?"

"No," Clint said, shaking his head. "I've never been able to see colors. It's all just... gray scale. But at least I don't have anything to miss, if that makes sense. I've got nothing to compare it all to. It's just the same as it's always been. But I get curious sometimes." Opening the garage door, he led the way toward the back where he thought he'd seen the bike the last time he was getting ready to take the group bus to the public high school for his AP Astronomy class.

Huh. It was hard to decide which was better, never seeing color or only seeing it for a few years "Yeah, it does. I don't really miss seeing, my powers make up for it well enough and no sense whinging for what you don't have, right?" as they got closer, Matt began getting bits of a bike with his sonar, "That it?" he asked, pointing. It was propped against the back wall.

"Yep," Clint said. "Streamers on the handlebars and everything." He walked over and pulled the bike up from where it leaned so they could head out of the garage and away from the various cars inside. "So how do you wanna do this? You do the clicking thing and I'll let you know if you're heading toward something off to the side or something?"

Taking the bike from Clint once they were outside, Matt first raised the seat up so it would be high enough for him. Whomever owned this bike was much shorter than he was. Mounting it, Matt rode in a circle, getting his bearings and balance on the bike. "Yeah, I think so," he agreed, "The driveway is straight ahead and curves a little to the left, right?"

"Yeah," Clint agreed, keeping pace slightly behind Matt as they started off. This was so, so much better than reviewing for exams.