xp_logs | LOG: Scott and Cain, in Scott's office, Thursday afternoon

x-juggernaut.livejournal.com posting in

After some thought and deliberation, Cain goes to approach Scott with a proposal. There is open-mouthed gaping and disbelief, but acceptance.

Oh, he was going to be sick and tired of these crutches by the time he
was off them, Scott thought with a sigh, manuevering himself down the
hall towards his office. It would be a couple of weeks, too, to hear
Hank talk. Lovely.

As Scott opened the door, Cain spun the leather executive chair
around, kicking his feet up on Scott's desk and giving a quick smile.
"Afternoon, Summers," he began, leaning back and hearing the chair
creak slightly. "Figured here was as good a place for this as any. Why
don't you hobble on in here, shut the door. Got some things to talk to
you about."

Cain was in his office. Voluntarily. In his office. Scott
blinked at him for a moment, then came the rest of the way in,
carefully shutting the door behind him despite the rather cowardly
part of his brain that was pointing out he was cutting off his only
escape route. It wasn't as if Cain wouldn't be able to catch him,
anyway; Horatio could beat him in a footrace at the moment, after all.

"Fire away," he said a bit wearily, hobbling over to the couch and
lowering himself down. "Preferably not literally."

Cain hauled himself up out of the chair, hearing the leather almost
audibly groan with relief. Leaning his knuckles on the windowsill and
staring out into the backyard, he sighed before speaking. "I know I
give you a lot of shit. Ain't no secret that my brother sees you like
a son, and puts a lot of faith in you. Chuck and I don't see eye to
eye on anything, so I suppose that was kinda like strike one."

He held up another large finger as he continued. "Then you go running
the X-Men out of the school that used to be my house, drawing in all
sorts of crazy shit. Soldiers, fighting, crisis after crisis. Sure,
it's Chuck's idea, but when it comes down to it, you're holding the
reins. Strike two."

"And then," Marko concluded, "you and the X-Men go off to Greece and
put your fool necks on the line for Nate and his people and those kids
you saved. I ain't no idealist, I went along for one reason, and that
was to bring Nate home safe. Almost didn't get that chance. Point is,"
he admitted, "you did damn good. You and your people, came home
without losing a body among you." He met Scott's gaze as best he could
with the ruby glasses between them. "An' that? That ain't something I
can just write off."

Okay. So not at all what he'd expected. Scott managed not to break eye
contact - such as it was - as he tried to put the words together for
the honest reply that Cain's honesty demanded. "Whatever your reasons
for coming along," he said slowly, "you taking out that comm tower was
important. Did Nate explain to you why...? No coms, and the first-gens
got no orders. So they weren't coordinating the defense of the complex
like they would have been, otherwise. They used the loopholes Nathan
taught them. Oh, I guess it wouldn't have made much difference in the
end when that damned trigger went off, but..."

He shrugged. "As for the rest of it," he said quietly, "I appreciate
that, Cain. I know we've given you ample reason in the past not to
look too kindly on us."

Cain bit his tongue at that, trying not to take the easy shot. "I know
I did my part," he said slowly, "and that's what's bringing me here.
Ain't much for big flowery speeches, but here's how it is. Those
friends of Nate's, they died doing what was right, getting those kids
out, shutting those bastards down. You and yours put your lives on the
line for the same thing. I went 'cause Nate's my friend and... well...
like you said, I was useful. I gave a damn again."

Shaking his head, Cain clenched his fists nervously. "Suppose I gotta
come out and say it. Can't deny I got a gift, ain't like yours but
there it is. Strong as all get out, and nothin' can hurt me. About
time I used that for something more than fixin' windows and carting
around firewood."

He ran his fingers over the smooth wood of Scott's desk, then looked
right at the younger man. "You got room for another body, I want in."

Scott's first reaction was to gape like a landed fish. He managed to
stifle that one, but the second wasn't much better. "How?" As soon as
the words were out of his mouth, he reddened, wincing. "I didn't mean
it that way," he said immediately, before Cain could respond. "I
really do just mean how. Or what, maybe... you want in. Does that mean
as an X-Man?" The image of Cain in the leathers hit him, and part of
his brain ran away screaming to hide under the mental bed. "You more
than proved you can handle yourself. Youra... that was some of the
heaviest fighting we've ever seen."

Cain nodded. "I've been in the thick of it, shit I told myself kids
like you wouldn't understand. But Youra... yeah." He sighed and wiped
a hand over his face. "It's doin' it for the right reasons, and I've
been running away from just that for way too long. I ain't saying I'm
buying into Chuck's big 'dream' spiel, but you guys gave me a chance
to go out and do some good, legitimately. I got a second chance here,
Sum- Scott," Cain forced himself to use the younger man's name,
despite the obvious discomfort. "And you said it yourself, you guys
could use what I bring. Rasputin's flaked on you, Marie's packed off
to Canada with the serial killer, and that Guthrie gal's tough, but
she ain't been in it as thick as you know it can get. Not yet,
anyway," he added.

Alison... was going to have hysterics. Good kind, bad kind, he wasn't
absolutely sure just yet. He wasn't sure he was far off that himself.
All the different ways Cain could be useful, all the different
potential scenarios, were spinning through his mind at top speed, to
the point where he found it difficult to snap back to the here and now
and answer him.

"Okay, then," Scott said, very quietly, then mustered a faint smile.
"Believe it or not, the first step's a lot of reading. You'd need to
go through the files, get a sense of what's active, the sort of thing
we've been doing lately."

Cain nodded. "Expected as much. I'm no stranger to the paperwork of
it, you'd be surprised how much paperwork being an NCO in the Corps
generated, even in the thick of the VC. Now I know I ain't exactly up
to speed on all your high-tech training doodads and tactical
whatchamacallits - so whatever boot camp you guys got," Cain grinned
widely. "Throw it at me. There some form I gotta fill out, or some
oath I gotta take or something?"

Would it be too cowardly of him to give Alison or Ororo the
responsibility of supervising Cain's training? Scott caught himself
grinning back, though, one of the first real smiles he'd managed in
the last couple of weeks. "No forms," he said. "We're still working on
the oath. But I can probably get a basic training rotation set up for
you within the next couple of days." He hauled himself up off the
couch, hobbling over to the chair Cain had vacated and sitting down,
reaching out to turn on his laptop. "The files, I can give you access
to right now..." It wouldn't take much to set up a new trainee
account.

Cain nodded silently. This wasn't much different than the Corps,
really, he thought. Summers was a bit older than his lieutenant from
'Nam, and this was something he actually felt right about, so
whatever they were going to throw at him, he figured he could weather.

"I'm at your disposal, Slim," he quipped, throwing off a two-fingered
salute. "Just gimme a when and where, and I'll run through whatever
hoops you get set up. And Summers?" he added, "I wasn't blowing smoke
up your ass. You really had your shit together out there."

Scott looked up at him. "Thanks," he said after a moment, then offered
Cain a slightly more hesitant grin. "You too. It'll be... good to have
you aboard." He looked back down at the computer screen, the grin
growing almost despite himself. "Probably educational on all kinds of
levels..." Not laughing. He was really not going to laugh, here...

Noticing the grin, Cain reached over to the couch and picked up a
small pillow, whipping it like a Frisbee into Scott's chest. "Don't
think you young kids know ALL the tricks there are to know, mind you.
Age and experience versus youth and enthusiasm and all that."

But he was grinning as he said it.