Backdated Log: Matt and Miles

[x-daredevil.livejournal.com]

10/22/14
Miles is not as observant as he could be



He really should be asleep. It was past late and into ridiculously early and Matt had given up on sleep for the night. He lay sprawled on a couch, several textbook chapters stacked on the floor next to him, the one he was currently reading open in his lap, fingers carefully reading the material for class. He should probably go see about breakfast soon, he was getting hungry.

It was unusual for Miles not to get a full night's sleep. Like many teenage boys, he could pull a full 12 hours if given the incentive. Tonight, though, he'd barely managed 5 and could not seem to get himself back to sleep. So rather than potentially disturb Ty or his other suite mates, he put on his pants, slipped on his Kermit slippers, and stealthily sneaked out of his room. He wasn't sure where he'd go at this hour, but his feet led him to the dark and empty rec room.

Well, at least dark. His spider sense blared for an instant when he flipped on the light and found Matt reading on the couch, completely unaware of his surroundings.

"Ay, cabrón! What the heck are you doing reading in the dark?" Miles asked when he regained his composure.

Matt had heard Miles coming, but hadn't thought much of it. Odd hours happened at Xavier's for lots of various reasons. So did sleeping at odd times. Kinda like how he should be asleep, but oh well. "Uh..." Matt wasn't sure exactly how reply to that, "oops?" he managed, sitting up properly, "Eh, you know, you get to a point where the threat of glasses just doesn't matter anymore," when in doubt, sarcasm.

Miles shook his head and sat on the arm of Matt's couch. "Couldn't sleep, either?"

The truth was, Matt was worried about Hope, even if he didn't want to admit it. "Lots of reading for class," he explained, "guess I lost track of time," he'd left his watch and cell phone in his room, so any clocks in the room were useless to him, but that had been part of the appeal. Hard to check a click every 2 minutes if he wasn't around one. "What about you?"

"No sé," replied Miles, shrugging. "Too much ice cream for dessert tonight, maybe. Too wired to sleep. Figured Ty wouldn't like it kept twisting and turning. Passed by here to maybe play Hyrule Warriors or something. What're you reading, anyway? School stuff?"

"Yeah, sociology of societal problems, of which there are a lot," duh. Matt chuckled under his breath, fingers sliding over a word, then stopping so he didn't lose his place, "It's an interesting class, but depressing, sorta. Like there's not enough crap in the world people have to read and write about it, analyzing it. But see, what's the point if you don't also so something about it?"

Maybe it was a sign of their age difference, but Miles didn't find anything about that intellectually appealing. Like Matt said, it seemed like a waste of time when you could actually go into the streets and do something to make the world better. "So what do they say about societal problems? Buy this book and they'll go away?" he asked with just a hint of snark. He reached over and picked up one of the other books to flip through. "Hey, how come it's all in braille?"

"No, mostly it talks about how things are interconnected and multifaceted so you can only do so much fixing one part, all of them have to change and there's stuff you can't change..." he paused as Miles asked about the braille. "Wait, what?" He asked, confused. "Seriously? You don't know?"

"Wait, are you blind?" Miles asked in shock as he finally started to put the pieces together.

"As a bat," Matt confirmed with a laugh and smile, more amused that Miles hadn't realized than anything. "Sonar and all. See the scars?" He leaned forward pointing out the faint white lines at his temples and corners of his eyes. They were almost invisible after so many years, "Chemical burns when I was younger."

"So that's why there's labels on everything in the kitchen!" It was as if Miles had just discovered the property of water displacement. At least he was wearing pants. "You get around by sonar? You never told me that. Just that you have super-senses. I thought that means like you smell and hear good."

Sticking his tongue out at Miles, Matt just nodded, "I do smell and hear well," he agreed, "and sound waves hit objects giving me a sense of location and space. It's not seeing, not with colour and detail and whatnot like you, but it works pretty well," what he lacked in that he made up for by having 360° sonar. "But yeah, I'm blind. White cane, braille, the whole bit. I'm actually not the first blind student here though."

"Well, I think that I win the award for most clueless ever. Go team me." Maybe it was good that Matt was blind because he couldn't see the terribly embarrassed I-want-to-crawl-into-a-hole-and-die look that Miles wore. "Your sonar power must be mad good if you can be an X-Man."

"Practice," Matt shrugged, "my powers aren't flashy, but they have uses. Anyways," he stretched and yawned widely, "breakfast? What time is it? I left my phone in my suite."

"It's a little after 5. Wouldn't say no to breakfast, though." Miles hopped off the couch and held out a hand to Matt to help him up. "You said you got chemical burns? How'd that happen?"

Well, why not tell the whole story? Getting up with a stretch, Matt gathered up his things, "C'mon, I can make breakfast in my suite, my suite mate is probably with her boyfriend. You like eggs or pancakes?"

"Yes." Always a good joke. "Eggs, please. Gotta cut down on the carbs so I keep my figure. Which, uh, too bad you're missing?"

"You're half my size, I should make pancakes for that comment," Matt joked as they headed to the grad wing and he unlocked his suite. "You're responsible for lights," he informed Miles, dumping his books on his desk before going to survey the kitchen supplies. "But you asked how my retinas fried. Long story short, I was hit by a truck crossing the street when I was 12. It was carrying chemicals that weren't secured properly and he took the corner too fast, not paying attention. I saw him, but it didn't matter, the containers toppled and broke. It splashed in my eyes. I don't remember any of this though, I woke up a couple days later in the hospital."

"I meant cuz you can't see me," Miles protested as he groped the wall to find the light switch. Once the room was illuminated (and wow, what a room, and so much cleaner than his own), he sat at the small kitchen table to listen to Matt's story. "Wow, that's some Ninja Turtles junk right there. So wack. But I guess lucky that becoming blind was the worst of it."

Scrambling eggs with salami and popping toast into the toaster, Matt shrugged, "My powers manifested at the same time, stress and trauma can cause that, so it was tough for a while. But with a few years of occupational therapy...I get by pretty well. It's easier with powers, but I can do it either way."

"You can be, like, a master ninja. Creep through the dark and sense people even if they can't see you. That can be your X-Man name. The Ginger Ninja!"

Laughing, Matt decided to chalk the suggestion up to 5am, "How about Ping?" He asked, curious. That was his trainee name.

"If you wanna be a 2005 slash fangirl talking to her friends on AOL and LiveJournal, then sure, that could work. Echo would be better if you wanna go for that whole motif." Miles hrrmed as he though more about the name. He at least was lucky and came in with a prebuilt name and persona, pretty much. "You're, like, super-athletic and can do all these tricks that almost no one else can. How about Stuntman?"

Ouch! Well, there went his trainee name. He hadn't been too attached to it anyways, "Stuntman?" He repeated, dubious, handing Miles a plate of food and then getting one for himself. He made plenty. "I dunno. Kinda...kinda sounds life a guy that tries too hard. Ping is my trainee name. It was that or Marco Polo."

Miles's mouth watered. Who knew that eggs and meat could smell so good even so early in the morning? Those codenames, though, had Miles raising a dubious eyebrow. "Those are both really . . . you could do better, bro. For real, Echo sounds a lot cooler. And that kinda has the ninja theme."

"Trainee names are meant to be a little dumb," Matt explained. "When I'm a full X-Man, I get to pick my own and I have no idea. Echo is an option, but...I dunno. Don't want to go with the first one."

"You make it sound like you're buying a car," Miles teased in between bites. "Mmm, this is really good. Thank you."

"What's a New Yorker need with a car? I don't think my dad ever had a license, " Matt pointed out. "This is more important. This is a name you choose."

"So then what sort of name speaks to you?" Miles asked. "It should be something that -- that resonates with you. That's how all the good superheroes choose their names. Even something kinda cheesy like 'Superman.' It's gotta have some personal meaning to you."

"Dunno," Matt replied truthfully, eating his eggs. "My dad was a boxer and they called him Jack 'the Devil' Murdock because he was crazy in the ring. And because having a nickname like that helps boost sales. I'm just not afraid of much."

"Maybe something with that, then," Miles suggested. "Red Devil. Kid Devil. Devilman . . . wait, no, not that. That's taken."

"Yeah, also, while I like the whole devil idea, not too interested in being thought all evil," that was a factor to think about. "There's time. Now," Matt went to his room to check the time, coming out with his watch on his wrist, "I'm gonna go shower and try to sleep for an hour or two before class. You should too."

"Sure. Thanks for the breakfast, bro."