Scott and Shinobi, Monday afternoon

[x-cyclops.livejournal.com]

Shinobi wakes up back in the medlab and Scott tells him what happened after he was knocked out in the warehouse. Shinobi does not take it well.



Scott leaned over the bed, mustering a tired, not all that reassuring smile as he saw Shinobi's eyes open finally. "Hey," he said, his voice rough as he watched the younger man try to focus on him. "You with me, Shinobi?"

"I think so," Shinobi replied hoarsely, blinking a few times as he tried to focus on the vaguely fleshy-and-reddish blur leaning into his view, before eventually giving up. Hopefully, Scott wouldn't be offended by an unfocused gaze aimed in his general direction, and the fact that Shinobi was trying very very hard not to move his head. "Ow."

"You're going to be okay," Scott said, keeping his voice low. Hank had warned him against loud noises. "You've got a concussion and some bruised ribs. We dug you out and got you back on the plane - you've been out for a few hours."

He was silent for a moment before something registered as being peculiar. "Dug me out?" Shinobi asked slowly, beginning to arch an eyebrow before his head complained and he let it fall slack again. Ow. "Out of what? I remember.. I remember phasing inside, I remember.. a sound manipulator, I remember him keeping me solid.."

Scott leaned over him, laying a hand gently on his shoulder. "The warehouse collapsed," he said, some of the pain creeping through his attempt to keep an even tone. "You're probably the worst hurt. Don't know how we got off that lightly."

"Oh." Well, that explained why digging was necessary. "Luck, I think." Shinobi made another attempt at focusing, and had a little more luck this time - it was definitely a Scott-shaped blur. "Everybody else is alright..? Moira? Nathan?"

"Moira's going to be fine. She's a little banged up, but Haroun got her clear." Scott didn't add that Haroun and Paul having been well clear of the warehouse when it had exploded was probably the only reason why they had managed to evac as quickly as they had. "Everyone else... like I said, you're the worst hurt." He was silent for a long moment, not sure whether he should tell Shinobi or not. But he had asked. "We... they got him, Shinobi."

The silence did not bode well, even if his head was quite grateful for its presence. It was the rest of him that didn't like it. "They got him?" Shinobi echoed hoarsely, this time ignoring his forehead's complaining as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean, they got him?" He didn't sound hysterical, at least - confused, mostly - but the absence of outright hysteria was probably due to the concussion.

Scott closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. His own aches and pains were complaining loudly, insisting that he find someplace horizontal himself and preferably quickly. But he couldn't do that until he'd finished telling Shinobi. Everyone else had been conscious, and knew. Then he had to talk to Charles. And then he had to see Moira...

"Betsy says there was a telepath there," Scott said, his voice still very soft. He didn't remove his hand from Shinobi's shoulder. "He did... something to Nathan. Hit a trigger. The Mistra field leader gave Nathan an order, and he blew up the warehouse." He swallowed, seeing the way Shinobi was watching him. "By the time we dug ourselves out, they were gone."

Shinobi was silent for a long moment as he rolled the information around in his head, having a small amount of trouble keeping track of it over the quietly-present ringing in his ears, left over from his fight with the sound manipulator - and, likely, from having a warehouse fall on his head. But eventually, it successfully parsed, and he blinked once, very slowly.

"Shit." It was probably a good thing Scott still had his hand on Shinobi's shoulder - even that little pressure was enough to keep him flat on his back, after a quickly-aborted attempt to sit up. Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow. "Moira. Where?"

"Down the hall." Scott's jaw clenched, pain lancing through him again as he thought of what he'd heard as he'd walked by the half-open door of the room where she'd been installed upon their return to the mansion. "Hank gave her something to calm her down."

"I need to see her," Shinobi insisted hoarsely, his eyes taking a guess at where Scott's eyes were behind the ruby quartz and making a valiant - if currently futile - effort to focus on them. "Please?"

"In a little while. Once you've rested." Scottt swallowed. "I... don't really think she'd know you were there right now, Shinobi."

Reluctantly, Shinobi began to nod, then winced as his concussion reminded him it was there and quickly stilled the movement. Right. No nodding. "In a little while," he agreed quietly, letting his eyes fall closed. The lack of light was something his head liked. "...I'm sorry I failed you, Scott."

Scott's breath caught in his chest. "You didn't," he said, his voice almost breaking. "Not for a minute." He swallowed, trying to focus. "Try to stay with me for a minute," he said, seeing Shinobi's eyes close. "Were you still fighting when the explosion happened?"

Shinobi forced his eyes open again, with a very quiet grunt at the effort. Awake is better than the soothing, soothing darkness, Shinobi, keep them open. "I.. no," he replied after a moment's thought, trying to lift a hand so he could tentatively rest it against his forehead. Ow. "No, I don't remember the explosion.. I must have gone down before it." He paused, and allowed himself a faintly bitter grumble. "I think it was a fairly short fight."

"You said a sound manipulator?" Scott had heard something odd during the fight, but he'd been too engrossed with his own opponents to notice. "Was there anything..." He stopped, shaking his head. Concentrate. "Did he say anything to you? Anything that might be useful..."

"He.. he knew who I was," Shinobi answered slowly, a faintly pained expression on his face as he tried to remember. Think, Shaw, think. Focus. "Identified me, told me what my power was.. said he didn't have orders to kill me, asked me not to make him.. shit, what else.." It got fuzzier and fuzzier the more recent the memory was. Damnit.

"Asked you not to make him kill you?" Scott stopped, frowning. Unprofessional in an entirely different way than some of the other Mistra operatives that had been in that warehouse. Not that he had much room to be calling any of them unprofessional - they'd carried the day, after all.

"He reminded me of Nate," Shinobi added quietly, stubbornly ignoring the unfamiliar burning of his eyes. He can worry about crying later. Not now. Busy now. "Maybe he was an older operative?"

"A first-gen operative," Scott said after a moment, remembering the briefing documents Nathan and Pete had shared with him... days ago, now. Before the kids had vanished. Shinobi blinked up at him, obviously not comprehending, and Scott explained. "There were two types of conditioning that Mistra used," he said quietly. "First generation, like Nathan. Lot more complex, killed most of the subjects it was used on, but it produced more stable operatives. Nathan said that most of the ones that attacked Columbia were second-generation." He shook his head. "The first-gen operatives were the ones that were taken as children. Nathan said it didn't work on anyone over the age of about fourteen."

"I feel a little better about apologizing before fucking up his arm, then," Shinobi mumbled, frowning a touch as he tried to think back again. "I.. I can't remember if there was anything else.." He sighed in frustration.

"That's enough for now," Scott said heavily, patting his shoulder awkwardly. Small mercies, he thought, that Shinobi had run into someone who hadn't wanted to kill him. If he'd been knocked out before the explosion, the Mistra operative must have had the chance to finish him off... "You didn't fail me," he repeated, his voice going hoarse again. "You didn't fail anyone."