Moira and Cain

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Moira and Cain meet up outside for their normal session. Something's obviously eating at Cain beyond the normal and it all revolves around a particular little green boy.



Cain checked his watch as he paced around the gazebo. Moira had taken to having their sessions during a walk around the grounds, claiming that the fresh air would do Cain a world of good. Taking a deep breath through his nose, Cain wrinkled up his face. There was a bit of stagnant water around somewhere, and he'd likely have to dig a culvert later.

"Oh ye look absolutely delightful this afternoon," Moira called, trotting up the stairs, carrying two mugs of coffee. Her normal mug and the rather large mug she had purchased specifically for Cain. "Ye normally dinnae look this irritable for our sessions. Wha's up?"

"Just the usual maintenance stuff," Cain said, accepting the coffee with a forced grin. He trusted in his invulnerability to stave off the worst effects of Moira's demon brew. Trying to concentrate on the positive, that'd been Moira's big push for Cain's recent therapy "homework"

"So," he quipped, "you and Nate are getting hitched, huh?"

"I'm amazed ye werenae bettin' on th' fact tha' we would," she said dryly, hopping up to sit on the railing. "But, aye, we are." Cheerfully, she waved the the left hand at him, the ring sparkling in the sun. "An' if ye ask me when, I'll find a way around yer invulnerability ta 'urt ye."

Cain snorted. "Whaddya think I am, suicidal? Nah, it's great for you two, really. I'm just waiting for Dr. Pym to get the news." He gave his most disarming grin. "Somehow I don't think we'll be seeing many flowers delivered from him again."

She laughed at that, delighted. "I really would love to see th' expression on 'is face," she said, smiling softly. "Especially after th' last meetin'."

Cain leaned back over the railing, feeling it creak under his weight as he balanced for a moment, then hauled himself up to his feet. "Well, seems at least you two are setting a good example for the other adults in the house. It's a sad week when the kids have more of their shit together."

"I'll drink ta tha'," Moira muttered, rolling her eyes. "We may be a wee bit late in gettin' around ta it, but at least we're doin' this." She shifted and then grinned at him over her cup. "Mmm, ye might be asked ta be in th' weddin', by th' way."

Slowly, Cain placed his coffee cup down on the ground. Raising his arms above his head, he exhaled slowly, counting to ten. "And why," he asked guilelessly, "would I do a thing like that? Ain't exactly like I'm one for social situations."

"Because yer our friend. An' I'll bully ye inta an early grave." Moira smiled brightly at him. "An' I'm so _good_ at tha', Cain, ye know I am. Seriously, though, we might ask ye an' I'll find someway o' gettin' ye ta say aye."

"Whatever," Cain snorted. "well, at least you know Nate'll do right by you. Seems you've kind of been shitted on in that regard. Me, I figured you'd have gotten past the whole concept by now."

Moira echoed his snort. "I dinnae exactly 'ave th' picture perfect weddin' th' first go 'round," she said, shrugging. "Besides, I'd like pictures. Lots o' pictures. Nathan might wear a kilt."

That image made Cain laugh out loud. "Nathan in a dress! Now THAT I'll take pictures of." After a minute's chuckling, Cain made his way off the gazebo to the edge of the lake, his boots sinking a few inches into the mud.

"Place ain't going to shit as fast as I figured." he proclaimed.

She watched him quietly and started to take mental notes. "Nay, 'tis not. In fact, 'tis 'oldin' up remarkably well. For th' most part, everyone's behavin' themselves an' th' 'ouse is 'oldin' up rather well. An' ye've been doin' a good job keepin' this place in tact. It probably would go ta shit, like ye said, if ye werenae 'ere watchin' over it."

"I know that," Cain replied petulantly, "I ain't trying to fix anything more than the house, though. Near as I can figure, they got Golden Boy Summers having his breakdown - finally - Alison waffling between acting sixteen and Too Damn Old, folks screaming at each other in the halls, in the garage, in the hangar..." Cain brushed a hand through his short hair. "Gimme a demon invasion any day."

Ah. "Folks in th' 'ouse finally gettin' ta be ta much?" she asked, quietly, taking another sip of her coffee. "It 'as been rather stupid lately, everythin' considerin'. Wha's really eatin' at ye, Cain? Yer normally nay _this_ agitated, at least nay right off th' bat. An', oh, dinnae scowl at me like tha', ye know it doesnae intimidate me at all."

Cain paused a few moments. "I ain't a good person, Mac." He raised a hand immediately before Moira could speak. "Don't gimme any bullshit here, I know what you're gonna say. I ain't makin' any apology for the stuff I've done in my life, don't see any point in it. Never figured there was any point being any different. I mean, who cares if people get pissed off, I'm gonna outlive them all, right?" Cain sighed. "Except..."

"Except?" A doctor was not supposed to want to wing their coffee mug at their patients heads. Even when they were being stupid.

"Except now Alison wants me to take care of Miles if she goes off and gets herself killed on some fool X-thing," Cain blurted out. "I mean, what the fuck? I don't know the first thing about being an example to the kid, or how to do any of that stuff. And it ain't like I haven't tried to talk her out of it. Girl's too goddamn stubborn to listen to reason and decide between being a mother and a damn superhero."

Moira's eyes widened slightly. So that was what got him so riled up. No, a little scared was more like it. "Cain, actually, I think she 'as th' right idea." She smothered a smile when he stared at her. "Ye think I'm kiddin'? Yer different when yer around Miles, ye've realized tha'? Ye watch out for 'im an' 'e trusts ye. 'Tis a big, scary thin' ta 'ave it land in yer lap, I'll give ye tha'."

"I ain't scared." Cain immediately shot back. "It's just... I ain't prepared for it, you know? I came here trying to just find some place to settle down and get away from the world. Heh. You'd think a year would get me used to the jets, the commandos, all of it. And the one normal thing in the whole deal - the one thing closest to a real functional family in this burg - she's putting her neck on the line and looking to me to help clean up the pieces if she screws up." Cain frowned, "She's got the right reasons, and I can't argue with 'em, but - DAMN!" He punched down with his fist, splattering mud against the leg of his jeans.

Patiently, she waited until he was done, sipping at her coffee for a few more seconds. By now, she was used to the bouts of anger and lashing out. They had never been directed _at_ her and she knew that as much as Cain liked anyone, he liked her, so she had nothing to fear. "I never said ye were scared," she chided, voice soft but firm. "I said tha' 'tis a scary thin'. There's a difference. An' ye cannae argue wit' them but ye worry, I know. I do ta."

Cain held his fist up, studying the mud on it before falling back to sit in the muck, just staring out into the lake. "I went off to the war," he began, "because there wasn't shit for me here. My dad was dead, and the only person I had any tie to was Chuck. Honestly, I thought I didn't care whether I lived or died. Because it didn't matter." Pausing, he sucked in a breath and kept going, "And then I come back and Chuck's running his own little army and if they want to go off and die, fine. But not when they got something waiting, you know?"

"I know. I'm old, Cain, an' I'm 'uman so I'll never know wha' it 'tis ta go off an' fight. Wit' guns or powers, anyway. I know wha' drives Nathan but nay th' rest."

Cain slumped his shoulders, not caring about the wet mud seeping into his clothes. "I just keep thinking - it ain't right. Not Chuck's whole dream - that's fine. But folks goin' out and dying for it? Who's he think he is?"

"Truthfully?" Moira's gaze went to the sky for a second. "I'm nay sure 'e even knows at times. But they believe in 'im so strongly, they believe in 'is dream, tha' they are willin' ta go out an' die for it. I'm sure ye were surrounded by those like them in Vietnam."

"Fuck." Cain spat out the epithet. "Ain't a one I ever saw thought that after watching their buddy's head get blown off right next to 'em. Just wait, it'll hit 'em. I mean, no one may give a shit about losing one doctor-" he glanced quickly as Moira, "but it'll hit them sooner or later."

"Oh, they care. They jus' try so 'ard ta block it out." She shook her head. "I knew 'er, actually. Nay verra well but I 'ad met Jean maybe...twice. Stopped at Muir durin' 'er circulations for mutant rights. An' a burnin' curiosity ta look at Muir. Trust me, I know all 'bout drownin' yerself in work after th' deat' o' someone ye love."

"Or drowning yourself in the next telepath to come along," Cain snorted, "y'ask me, Slim's got some kind of issue there, but y'know, no one asks me." Switching gears, he hauled himself out of the mud, taking a few steps forward until he stood knee-deep in the lake. "I suppose in a way, I feel kinda like the only one that's got a clue. I mean, look at you and Nate. You can't tell me you don't stay up wondering if he's going to make it home from any of his little adventures, right?"

"Every single night since th' day I've known 'im." Cursing softly, Moira hauled herself off the railing and followed Cain, stopping short of the lake, though. "I worry, I fret. Why do ye think I 'ave this bloody ulcer? Will it change after we marry an' if we start a family? Cannae answer tha' one."

"Heh. Family." Cain reached down to grab a hubcap-sized rock and heave it over the surface of the lake. "These kids keep talking about how this place is family. Where I come from - that's something you appreciate. Something you protect. Something you don't go out risking your damn fool neck and leaving them behind."

"An' maybe they think th' way ta protect them is by riskin' their necks?" she offered.

"I-" Cain suddenly heard Alison's words coming back to him, about being willing to do anything to make a better world for her son. "There's other ways. Leave the dyin' to those equipped to do it. The ones that ain't got nothin' to lose."

"I would 'ave died for Kevin," Moira stated, voice strong as she stared at the back of Cain's head. "Ta make 'im better, ta make 'is world better. There would be people tha' loved 'im if I did. An' I think tha's why Alison does. Ye dinnae think she's scared ta deat' 'bout it?"

Realization hit Cain like a wrecking ball. "That's what she said. She said if anything happened to her, she knew I'd keep Miles safe. I mean, she's right - I know I ain't anyone's ideal choice for a par- for someone takin' care of a kid. But it's that important to her. I mean," Cain chuckled, "like I said, I ain't goin' anywhere."

Cain turned in a slow circle, looking across the lake to the hills that led past the quarry, to the woodline leading up to the mansion, across the lawn, and over to where the boathouse was barely visible through the trees. "This place. It's like that to me, y'know? It's all I got. I'd fight for it."

She smiled at him when he turned to face her. "See? Ye finally understand. A parent would do anythin' for their children, even makin' advanced plans. Alison is a smart one, Cain, remember tha'. An' I know 'ow much this place means ta ye. Ye wouldnae let anythin' seriously 'urt it."

Cain nodded. "I think... I got some thinkin' to do, then." He glanced down at his mud-covered jeans, then twisted to take in the state of his shirt. "Might as well take the straightest way back. Thanks, Doc." With that, Cain began trudging through the water towards the boathouse, dipping lower with each step.

"Yer welcome," she murmured to his back before turning to watch the lake for a little while.