xp_logs | Scott and Shinobi, late Wednesday night

x-cyclops.livejournal.com posting in

Coming back in after a very long motorcycle ride, Scott stops briefly in the kitchen. Shinobi comes in for a late-night snack, and the two have a somewhat tense conversation about the situation with Sarah. Shinobi then offers some very sensible, if basic advice about Scott's own conundrum.

The kitchen was dark and thankfully empty. Not that he'd expected much else at this hour, but then, with the number of insomniacs and people that didn't need to sleep around here, you could never be sure. Scott took a bottle of water out of the refrigerator and then went over and slumped into a chair at the table. Darkness and silence - just what he needed. The fewer people who were around him, the less he could screw up and hurt them.

He grimaced, remembering telling Betsy in his email that he'd do his best after he read her file on Kwannon. So much for that. Seemed his best included 'running off like an adolescent in a huff'. He took his glasses off, carefully keeping his eyes closed, and rubbed at his temples, willing the headache away. Part stress, he knew, but staying out all those hours on the bike hadn't helped either.

Most of his day had wound up being spent in the boiler room - which meant that Shinobi looked about as good as Scott, in terms of keeping it together. With his hair mussed, dark rings under his eyes, and an assortment of small tears in his t-shirt, he quietly trudged his way towards the kitchen in search of food.

He was aware enough, at least, to realize the kitchen had an occupant before he entered. Squinting in the dark, Shinobi peered towards the table, and caught the familiar glint of light off ruby quartz - but not at eye-level. Okay. Surprising Scott would be an even worse idea than it usually was, right now. "Is it okay if I come in?" he asked tentatively, hanging back just outside the doorway.

Scott, who'd heard the footsteps in the hall outside, managed to limit his reaction to a twitch when he heard Shinobi's voice. "Of course," he said, his voice coming out gravelly. He didn't reach out for his glasses. Maybe if he kept his eyes closed and did his best to pretend Shinobi wasn't there, the young man would do whatever he wanted to do in the kitchen and go away. The thought was almost desperately whimsical, and Scott bit back a sigh, letting his head rest in his hands for a moment.

Scott sounded like Shinobi felt. God only knows what that post about truth had been about, but it must not have been good. "Thank you," he replied quietly, hesitating for a moment before taking the permission given and stepping into the room, leaving the lights off as he crossed towards the refridgerator. Whimsical though the elder man's thought may have been, it looked like it may very well come true.

His conscience started to growl warningly as he heard the note in Shinobi's voice. Scott grimaced again and did reach for his glasses, sliding them back on. As if they were the first step towards pulling himself back together as Cyclops, if not as Scott. "How's Sarah?" he asked dully, opening his eyes and then narrowing them again with a wince as Shinobi opened the door and light flashed out across the kitchen.

Once he'd recovered from his own wince due to the refrigerator's light, he briefly rubbed his eyes before he began to rummage around. Something edible must be in here somewhere. "She's been crying on me on and off all day," Shinobi replied, sighing tiredly as he pushed the bread aside. "So.. not doing very well at all, really."

"I'm sorry." It came out sounding more curt than he'd intended, but at least he hadn't given voice to any of the less-diplomatic things he might have said about the situation. "For the need, as well as the consequences."

He managed not to wince at the tone, mentally brushing it off. "So am I." After a pause, Shinobi gave up, making a faint noise of distaste as he grabbed the loaf of bread and straightened back up, nudging the door closed again. He could find the toaster in the dark, no problem. He'd just need his eyes to adjust to the dark again.

"I would point out that no one is saying she can't see Miles or Artie," Scott said after a moment, still a bit too stiffly.

"They're just saying she can't be trusted to be alone with the only family she has left," Shinobi replied, both grateful and annoyed that he lacked the energy to make it sound cutting. It instead came out tired, and dull. "Nobody told her. Not until she invited them to come see the puppy, and wound up with Marko on her doorstep instead, informing her of The Way Things Are." He didn't say he thought the method of delivery was bullshit. Again, he lacked the energy. But he was sure thinking it. Very mature, dumping it into her lap unannounced like that.

"She can't be," Scott said coldly. "And before you say anything, Shinobi, I'm not saying she'd ever hurt them deliberately. I don't believe she would." He picked up his bottle of water, taking a long sip before he went on. "As for not telling her ahead of time - I didn't have anything to do with that decision, but would she have been any less angry? Any less hurt? Maybe it wouldn't have been as much of a shock, but it probably would have been every bit as much of a mess."

"I don't disagree with the reasoning behind the decision," Shinobi replied, stepping over towards the toaster as he fished a pair of slices of bread from the bag. "I don't disagree that she dug her own bed, and now has to lay in it. And whether ot not it would have been accepted any easier if it had been handled differently isn't the point, either." After a pause, he grunted, waving a hand dismissively as he not-quite-shoved the bread into the toaster. "Nevermind. I'm too fucking tired to get into this right now."

"I have the damnedest time following your logic sometimes," Scott said with a sigh. "Even when I'm not this tired." His head was still throbbing and he took off his glasses again, massaging his temples. At this rate he was going to have to take something for it. There were times he hated this place, he thought, and then flinched, aghast at himself.

"I don't see what's hard to follow about it. I don't disagree with the decision, just the way it wound up being passed on to her." Loosely folding his arms over his chest, Shinobi leant against the counter and eyed the toaster impatiently. Hungry. Hurry up. "But, as I said.. nevermind. I'm tired enough that I'm not really communicating horribly well." Reluctantly, he cast a glance in Scott's direction, working his jaw for a moment. "...I've always been better at listening, anyway," he added, returning his gaze to his soon-to-be food. "Not so good with the talking."

"I suppose that's an offer to listen to me unburden myself about my thoughts on truth and why ignorance maybe isn't such a bad thing?" Scott's jaw clenched and he felt a rush of bitter scorn for himself. For having run like that, for letting his own feelings come into the equation at all. This should be about Betsy, he'd promised her his support... "Had a melodramatic moment, that's all. I think it's something in the water," he said, reaching back out for his glasses. But his hand was a little unsteady, and even as he picked them up they slipped out of his grip and clattered to the floor. He froze, feeling himself flush.

Shinobi blinked at the clatter, looking up with a puzzled expression. ...oh. Slowly, he made his way over towards Scott, leaning down to retrieve the dropped glasses. After a habitual check of the lenses for scratches, he reached over to lightly nudge the side of the older man's hand with them so he'd know where they were for the taking. "This place does have a way of making even the most together individuals engage in melodrama," he agreed lightly. "Perhaps the school was built on an ancient indian burial ground."

Scott swallowed back the flash of panic that had hit him in that moment when the glasses had been out of reach, nodding his thanks to Shinobi and putting them back on immediately, ruthlessly composing his expression. Careless, Summers. Really careless. He took a deep, slightly unsteady breath and managed a faint smile at Shinobi as the younger man straightened. "Possibly. Really ought to check, I suppose - this is getting ridiculous. "

Nodding, Shinobi offered a slight smile of his own. "Agreed. If anyone does actually start looking into that, I'm happy to help with the research." The pop of toast caught his attention, and with a faint perk, he turned to move back over to the toaster. Food! "Do you want to talk about it at all? I'm probably not your top choice for confidants in the world, or anything, but the offer to listen's there."

Nodding, Shinobi offered a slight smile of his own. "Agreed. If anyone does actually start looking into that, I'm happy to help with the research." The pop of toast caught his attention, and with a faint perk, he turned to move back over to the toaster. Food! "Do you want to talk about it at all? I'm probably not your top choice for confidants in the world, or anything, but the offer to listen's there."

"Not much to talk about," Scott said wearily, watching Shinobi fuss with his toast. "Had a chance to... make a difference, to help someone move forward, and I blew it. Dropped the ball and ran, because I couldn't handle it." Yeah, there was the sense of shame again. He hadn't thought it would have gone away.

"You sure that chance is entirely gone?" Shinobi asked, glancing over his shoulder with a faint tilt of his head.

"Haven't a clue. I wouldn't blame her if it was." He was supposed to be the good guy, or so Jean had said. Not the one who turned tail and ran.

"But you don't know," Shinobi observed, inclining his head. "Why don't you find out before you consider it a lost cause? Assuming the worst won't do much but encourage it to happen."

And where had his optimism ever gotten him? Scott's jaw clenched, but he forced himself to nod. There were people he could air those sorts of sentiments with... or there had been... but Shinobi wasn't one of them. "Sensible thing to do." His voice was hoarse, but steady. "Good advice."

"Well, there you are, then. Give it a go after you've slept, perhaps?" Shinobi looked back to his food, balancing in toast in one hand while he used the other to return the rest of the bread to the refridgerator.

Scott nodded without speaking and got up, taking his bottle of water with. "Sleep is also good advice. Goodnight, Shinobi."

Stupid fridge light. Wincing as he put the bread away, Shinobi nodded distractedly. "Night, Scott. Hope I've managed to help a little."

"Yeah," Scott said distantly, his mind already elsewhere as he headed out of the kitchen. "Thanks."