xp_logs | Hank, Scott, Monday night

After the heated exchange of emails, Hank goes upstairs to apologize and explain to Scott exactly why he's taken issue with this. (Probably not at the best time, but the nervous strain of the day has gotten to both of them) They talk past each other a bit, but they get there eventually, both of them making some valid points.

Hank took a deep breath, and opened Scott's door without knocking, just in case Scott decided not to let him in. The door wasn't locked, at least.

Scott was sitting at his desk, arms folded, glaring, and Hank sighed. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I truly am. I shouldn't have been so confrontational, and I certainly shouldn't have made the implication I did. I was... angry at myself, more than you, and I shouldn't have taken it out on you." He rubbed a hand through his hair. "I just.... I should have noticed this sooner. The intermeshing of medlab and team isn't your responsibility, it's mine, as the only member of both groups."

"Well, you know what, Hank?" Scott said through gritted teeth. The calm demeanor was taking rather a lot of effort, as there had been enough in those emails to ignite his temper but good. Which took some work, as Hank knew perfectly well. "You weren't here to notice. And I was having a merry old time losing my mind while you were gone, so forgive me if I take a bit of an exception to having my nose rubbed in it, while I'm already trying to fix it!"

Hank nodded, looking down at the floor. "I am sorry," he said quietly. "I should never have let my anger at myself for not being around enough affect my treatment of you. It was wrong of me, and I would undo it if I could." He took a deep breath, looking sadly at Scott. "And I am even more sorry that I wasn't here for you then. I should have been."

Oh, damn it. How was he supposed to yell at Hank when he was looking at him like that? Scott took a deep breath, trying to unclench his jaw just a little. It was beginning to ache. "Listen to me, Hank," he said, perhaps a bit harshly still. "Maddie was one of the people who did the most to keep me from losing it entirely this fall. Now that she's let me know that she wants to do more around here - and she hadn't come to me with those particular frustrations until just recently - do you really think that I'm not going to make sure she gets the opportunity to feel like she's making the contribution she wants to make?"

"Not exactly, but..." Hank sighed. "I was a little hurt that you didn't seem willing to talk to me about it," he admitted. "Assuring me that it was being handled, while not telling me how, when, or in what way, made me feel rather as if my concerns were being dismissed out of hand. And as if you didn't think I could possibly contribute anything important." He smiled ruefully. "Which, given that I've been giving you advice since it involved shaving regularly, was... painful. Nobody likes to feel as if they've been outgrown."

Scott bit his lip, hard, rubbing at his forehead. Now would not be a good time for one of those damned headaches, he reflected. Really. "I may have been more curt than I intended," he said, trying to keep his voice more even. "But don't you trust me? To handle it? It's been... a week, I think, since she and I talked. Hardly enough time to start investigating possibilities, let alone offering concrete solutions."

"Well, I didn't know when you'd talked about it," Hank pointed out. "And... I do trust you. I was rather upset that you didn't seem to trust me. At least, not enough to let me help, or to even tell me what you were considering."

"Hank..." Scott stopped again. "I'm trying to assess the situation," he said finally. "I need to talk to Maddie more, to see exactly what does feel she can and wants to do. I need to talk to Charles, to find out how incorporating her government contacts will harmonize with the connections he has. I'm not even considering something yet, I'm still gathering information." He looked up at Hank, shaking his head. "You're going to have to be a part of this, yes, because whatever happens is going to change Madelyn's role in the medlab, as well as possibly yours on missions. But we're not at that stage yet."

Hank nodded. "If there is anything I can do, please let me know." He sat down, now, since Scott seemed a little less likely to fly into a rage at any moment. "And... I still feel she should at least be offered the choice of an official role on the team. I have no idea if she wants one, and I doubt she would even want to go into combat, unless it was urgent... but I still think the offer should be made. That she should be able to make the choice for herself, as did we all." He leaned forward. "I did not want you to join the team when you did," he said seriously. "You were very young, and still foolhardy, and I was very worried that you'd get yourself hurt or killed. But Charles pointed out to me... rightly... that the decision was yours to make, not mine, no matter how much I cared about you or worried over your safety. Madelyn deserves that same respect. No matter how much I would worry about her... and I would... neither you, nor Alison, nor anyone else is entitled to decide on her behalf that the danger is too great. That is her decision to make."

"You're missing something, Hank," Scott said steadily, Very Pointedly Ignoring the foolhardy comment. He had never been foolhardy. "I asked to join the team. There have been offers made to people, even recently, but in most cases it's been standard procedure to wait until someone takes the initiative of their own accord. Charles does not entirely approve of recruitment. You know this."

"This is true. But most of those people were at least aware that it was an option. Madelyn has never been given any reason to believe that such a request would even be considered. She talks about being a 'puny human', did you know that? As if she truly believes that we might think less of her for not having powers." Hank shook his head. "And... to be honest, Scott, I do not understand why Madelyn could not be granted a place on the team for the work she does now. She works herself to the bone in the medlab, and with other ways of contributing as well..."

"Hank, stop and think for a moment. What would we be saying to her? 'We value your contribution, Madelyn, here's a leather-suit and you can call yourself an X-Man, but you get to sit at home when we go off to face the really serious threats because you are, sadly, not much of a match for Magneto or the like'." Scott shook his head. "Does that not seem patronizing to you? It sure as hell does to me."

Hank folded his arms and scowled. "Less patronizing than giving ME a uniform and a place on the team when I contribute even less than she does?" he growled softly. "She, at least, has been here far more of late than I have. If you do not consider patching up wounded teammembers, contributing with other skills when and as required, and rarely going even on lesser missions an insufficient contribution, then I will have my uniform on your desk this afternoon and I will remove myself from the training roster. I WILL NOT be given a pat on the head and a shiny uniform solely on the basis that I am a mutant and she is not." Yes, that wasn't entirely fair, he did have skills that Madelyn didn't, something he'd made an issue of himself recently... but she had done a hell of a lot more for the team than he had, lately, too. If it wasn't enough for her to make the team, then he would not be patronized by having exceptions made for him.

"Oh," Scott said, his temper flaring again. "So, before I point out the flaws in that reasoning, Hank, tell me... is this about you, or about Madelyn?"

"Both. Neither." Hank sighed. "Scott, it is unjust that I am a member of the team, and she is not, when we contribute in an almost identical fashion... and she rather more than I. And it is manifestly unfair to deny her the opportunity that would have been offered the minute she walked through the door, if she had powers. Because it would... if she could juggle cars, or read minds, or turn into something, she would have been offered a place on the team, or at least made aware that it was an option. Because she is human, she hasn't. That isn't fair, and it isn't right."

"Hypothetical situation, Hank," Scott said, through gritted teeth. "You have two team members down, and are tending to them. A hostile approaches from the rear and attacks. Put yourself in that scenario, then put Madelyn. Can you react to the threat in an identical fashion?"

"No." Hank couldn't help smiling a tiny bit. "She's a much better shot than I am."

"She has to reach for the gun, Hank. And if she doesn't have the time to reach for the gun, she has no way to defend herself other than hand-to-hand." Scott shook his head. "She's decent at hand-to-hand, I know this, but what if the hostile has enhanced strength? Or speed?"

"Or what if I built her a projectile weapon that fastens to the backs of her hands, so she doesn't have to reach?" Hank countered. "Forge and I between us could provide her with an entire armoury, if necessary, of lethal and non-lethal weapons, as well as a force-field to shield her from general harm."

"And if the hostile is an energy-projector?" Scott asked bluntly. "And yes, Hank, I know that a number of us would be screwed in that situation, too. But you're not seeing my point. There can be mechanical ways of closing that gap for Madelyn, yes, but their weakness would be that they are mechanical ways. Prone to failure, like all machines, or manipulation by a mutant - and then, what is she left with?"

Hank raised an eyebrow. "She's left with considerably more, than say, Haroun would be," he said mildly. "She'd at least still be mobile. She certainly wouldn't be the only one in the field who's dependent on the use of... devices." He looked Scott right in the glasses. He didn't have to come out and mention the visor... Scott was stubborn, but he wasn't stupid.

Scott's hands went white-knuckled on the arms of his chair. Since Hank hadn't actually come out and said it, he supposed he could manage not to point out just what a low blow that was. "Rip off my visor," he said, his voice low and tight, "and I can still blow the roof off a building." Never mind the pure terror the idea still evoked, the idea of being helpless to even open his eyes for fear of taking out a teammate. "And Haroun can always get out of range of a hostile who might be able to affect his cybernetics, a lot faster than Madelyn could."

"Rip off your visor and you can't see, Scott," Hank said gently. "Even with all her weapons neutralized, Madelyn would be able to fall back on her other training. I'm not saying I like the idea, and I'd rather not ever have her in that situation, but she wouldn't take kindly to me wrapping her up in cotton wool and locking her in the nice safe medlab, as tempted as I might be. I can't do it with you, either, or with Alison... and believe me, I'd never have let her out of the Mansion again, for preference, after what happened to her... and with all her powers functioning, I might add." He sighed. "What I'm trying to say, Scott, is that I feel it's a choice Madelyn should make for herself.... and that if she does decide to risk it, I'd make sure she was at least as capable of defending herself as any other member of the team. I really don't want her to get hurt, believe me." He stopped, and blushed a little bit. That last part had been just ever so slightly more vehement than he'd intended it to be.

"Have you even asked her if she would want this?" Scott said. Ordinarily, he would have thought Hank's obvious concern for Madelyn quite sweet, and very telling, but right now he wasn't in the mood. "Because I will tell you one thing, Hank... if she did want to do this, if she came to me and said so, the first thing she would have to do would be to go through the training. All of it." Scott jerked a hand towards the door. "She would have to be able to walk into the Danger Room and manage to defend herself against our big hitter before I would ever consider putting her in an X-Man uniform. How, precisely, is she supposed to beat Lorna, or Nathan, or Wanda in a fight? Even with the best weapons you or Forge could provide her?"

"No, I haven't. I thought I should talk to you first." Hank shook his head. "And you underestimate her, I think. I know I, personally, would not want to go up against her, were she armed. She's very fast, and she knows more sensitive and potentially vulnerable spots on the human body than a non-doctor could even find. Medical training is a distinct advantage in a fight, I assure you." He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers thoughtfully. "I never intended to make such an issue of this, Scott. I was just puzzled as to why, given that we do the same things, she is not on the team and I am. And then it kind of... snowballed into an enormous issue." He sighed. "I do have an astounding talent for inserting my feet into my mouth, don't I?"

Scott pushed himself up out of the chair, going over to the window. "You know," he said in some irritation, looking back over his shoulder, "you missed my point about Pete completely. He doesn't wear the leather suit, doesn't call himself an X-Man... but is he any less valuable to what we do? Do we need to try and force the name and the uniform on him, to recognize his contribution?"

"Pete knows he could ask if he wanted to join. Madelyn, as far as I can ascertain, doesn't think it's an option. It's a big difference," Hank said mildly. "And Pete is allowed to read the team messageboard. Pete does not have to ask me or Moira to tell him at least enough that he can do what he has to."

"And you don't think that part of expanding her role, of making her a valued auxiliary - " Scott stressed the last two words deliberately, " - like Pete, is not going to include giving her wider access to team affairs?"

"I think it would, yes," Hank admitted. "But I had no idea what you meant by 'auxiliary', or exactly how much information you intended to permit her. Pete, it might be argued, might as well be given the information, since he'd get his hands on it anyway. Madelyn would not."

"Then why didn't you ask me what I meant?" Scott flung at him, a bit of anger creeping through again. "Instead of assuming? You're second-guessing me, Hank."

Hank hung his head. "Well, yes, but that would have made sense," he said a little sheepishly. "And why would I go and ruin a perfectly good fuss over a possibly entirely irrelevant issue by being logical about it? That might, you know, actually have not been stupid."

"Oh, don't do that." Scott turned back to the window, sighing and rubbing at his temples. "I'm the only one allowed to run myself down around here. It's in the rules."

"Oh, it is not. It's practically a universal pastime, around here." Hank grinned a little. "We should all get 'I think I suck' jerseys, or something. Then anyone caught moping or running themselves down could have their jersey forcibly put on them, so that everyone will know they're feeling low and try to cheer them up."

"Ghastly thought." Scott leaned forward, resting his forehead against the cold glass for a moment. "It'll be looked after," he finally said. "You'll know how. If I left you feeling cut out of the loop, I'm sorry." A bit stiff, but it was what needed saying.

Hank nodded, rising and reaching out to rest a gentle hand on Scott's shoulder. "I am sorry I handled it so badly," he said softly. "I never wanted to upset you, or make you feel guilty... you've handled far more, lately, than you should have to or anyone should be able to."

Scott took a deep breath, straightening. "It's what I'm here for," he said, mustering a brief, dry smile for Hank. "If you couldn't come to me when you have concerns like this, then we'd have a problem."

"True." Hank sighed. "I'm still sorry. You'd think a brain as big as mine would be able to encompass thinking before speaking, wouldn't you?"

"We all have those moments." Scott squared his shoulders, glancing at the clock on the wall. "I think I've spent quite enough time in my office today. I'm due for my fifteen minutes of daily leisure reading."

Hank nodded. "Then I will leave you to it," he said, heading for the door. He stopped when he reached it, though, and glanced over his shoulder. "Scott?"

"Yes?"

Hank smiled a little. "I do love you, you know," he said seriously. "Even if we argue sometimes. You're still my Turtle, and all." Then he slipped out, before Scott got any more embarrassed. It'd needed saying, though.