Nathan and Cain, Thursday night

[x-cable.livejournal.com]

Cain stops in briefly to see Nathan and share with him the news of the afternoon. They have the inevitable Brief Manly Discussion of Cain's choice on Youra.


Cain ducked his head into the medlab, looking over Nathan briefly. Moira had said he was okay for limited visitors tonight, and that he hadn't heard the news yet. Stifling a grin, the big man slid into the room and dragged a stool over to Nathan's bedside. Making sure to sit well within his friend's field of vision, he gave him the once-over, nodding slowly.

"Well, ain't you just gone and done it now," he joked. "You realize this is giving those Vegas oddsmakers a heart attack, since you were supposed to be past all this attention-grabbing hospital shit."

Coming from Cain, it didn't have the sting that it would have from one of the kids. It was Cain, after all, and he'd been there. "Sucker bet," Nathan said, glad when the words came out clearly. So damned nice not to be as fuzzy-headed as he'd been earlier in the week. "You look like the cat that ate the canary. What?"

Cain coughed self-consciously into his hand. "Well, could be the attractive feral blonde that showed up at my place this morning, you know..." He paused for a moment to let Nathan's eyebrows shoot up into his hairline, then grinned. "No, wasn't anything like that. She just needed some peace and quiet and, well..." he grew suddenly somber. "Wanted to ask me about letting Tim and Mick be buried here, on the grounds. Ain't about to tell her no. Think it's a good thing to do."

Funeral. Nathan stared up blankly at the ceiling, remembering the murmured conversation he'd overheard between Jean and Moira the last time he'd woken up. Now it made sense. "That's... I'm not surprised she asked that." He swallowed. "Thanks. They would have liked that. They liked it here."

"Yeah," Cain mumbled. "But she got me to thinking, the stuff you guys did. Any of you could've just gone on with your lives, hidden out, let that shit keep going. But you went out there, and they sacrificed themselves for doin' the right thing." Cain clenched his jaw, looking up at the ceiling, then down at Nathan. "Between that, an' talking to Ani, I realized I can't do any less."

Taking a deep breath, he cracked a slow smile. "So," he intoned, "I told Summers that I'm joinin' the team."

Nathan blinked up at Cain. It took him a few moments to come up with something other than 'Wha-huh?' "... team. As in, the team? The one that wears leathers?"

"The same," Cain leaned forward, elbows on knees. "Gotta do all the training stuff, but ... it's the right thing to do. Been running and hiding too long, now I got a second chance. Ought to make a difference with it, right? You gave me the chance to find out I still can."

He hadn't imagined this, as a possible consequence. Not for a moment. But the obvious sincerity in Cain's voice and expression - and mind - was undeniable. "I'm... I'm glad, Cain," Nathan said, and meant it, even if the smile he summoned up was a little unsteady. "It'll be... they should be glad to have you. The training stuff... it won't be so bad. Danger Room's kind of fun, actually..."

"Ain't been in there since Moira and I broke it," Cain confessed. "And I ain't worried about the training, just gotta get used to working with you all that way, Summers tells me you're big on team tactics and whatnot. He's got the makings of a good leader," Cain had to admit. "Got his priorities straight."

"It's why I was taking orders from him," Nathan agreed, his voice low. "That and he's not shy about asking for advice... he kept trying to pick my brain about tactics. Didn't mind." It struck him that he was talking in the past tense again. Damn. "Alison's going to shriek. Probably aloud, you know..."

Cain winced briefly. "Yeah, everyone's going to be all zippy-de-doo-dah over it, I can tell. Oh god," he realized, placing his hands on his head. "They're going to give me one of those stupid trainee names, ain't they?"

Nathan smiled a little, again. "You get to pick your own," he said tiredly. "Don't worry. They asked me what I wanted... I just figured I'd stick to Cable."

Cain thought for a while, then remembered that silly website Remy had found, the urban legends one. He laughed loud and hard for a moment, then clapped Nathan gently on the knee. "I think the wacko conspiracy theorists already found me one. Apparently back in the early 90's, someone got a photo of me walking away from a train wreck. Folks been circulating it like some Bigfoot legend, 'the mystery of the unstoppable juggernaut'." He sat back, mulling it over in his mind. "There we go. I'm the Juggernaut."

"Juggernaut. It fits," Nathan murmured. The image of Cain in the leathers was a little alarming, though. "You..." He trailed off, telling himself not to ask. This wasn't the time. Whatever had stopped Cain back on Youra had to have been important.

The look on Nathan's face said all Cain needed to hear. He looked down for a moment, chastened. "Yeah, that. Had a choice to make. Was coming for you, when they were swarming the barracks. Then one of those bastards knocked a building down, was going to come down right on a bunch of kids. They didn't stand a chance, Nate. I still don't know why I did it," he admitted. "They didn't have any way to survive it without me. Guess I thought you did. If that was a bad call, hey, then I made the bad call. But..." he bit his tongue briefly, then just sighed long and hard. "I'm sorry about your friends, I should've been there."

Kids. Kids outside the barracks? Nathan was suddenly very glad Cain had been htere. "No," he murmured, his gaze moving back to the ceiling. "You should've done what you did. The kids were the important thing... I'm glad you were there."

Cain nodded. "They got out. It... it meant something, you know? S'why I want to help Anika out with Tim and Mick. Let people know they meant something, what they did, how they died. Fifty-some kids, Nate. And no more having to worry about it. We did good."

"I didn't see them." If his voice was a bit rougher than it should have been... well, surely Cain wouldn't feel the need to point that out. "Felt them... but I didn't see them come out of those cells. Wish I had." Maybe he'd have something to hold onto besides the memories of those last few minutes in the hall, if he had...

"When you're better," Cain said, "someone said there's footage of them getting the kids out. Going to use it when they take the people responsible to trial. You can see it, see those kids walking free. Just like you did."

"Moira keeps saying she's going to put a TV in here... apparently she doesn't like the way I keep staring at the ceiling." He managed another half-smile. "Awake a little more too, now..."

"I think you just want the attention," Cain accused. "Though shit, you deserve the rest. And if I gotta throw you in one of Chuck's wheelchairs for your wedding, you know Moira's going to be all pissed, so don't even think you're going to drag out this convalescence any longer than you have to."

"Kilt wouldn't be nearly as impressive in a wheelchair, not to worry..." The wedding. Maybe that would be a way to ease some of Moira's worry, if he got her to talk wedding plans when she reappeared. He knew she was fretting about his mental state. More than was really necessary, he told himself stubbornly. "And I want out of here as soon as I can. So, no malingering. Already beginning to forget what the sun looks like..."

Cain nodded enthusiastically. "We'll get you upstairs to a window soon as your lovely fiancee says you can be carried around. And if you're still set on wearing that skirt for the wedding," he rolled his eyes, "you're going to have to get some sun first with those pale legs of yours."

Nathan rolled his eyes back at him. "You sound like Moira. 'You're spending too much time inside, Nathan.'" Not like he had much choice right now. "Little hypocrite, she is... all the time she spends in the lab..." He was starting to get tired again, he thought a bit dimly. Sentences weren't coming together properly in his head.

"You done got her knocked up, you blockhead," Cain said playfully. "She ain't about to go running around playing full contact football in the yard. Besides, best she stay around the other doctors. Keeps her doing what she loves." He patted Nathan on the shoulder, careful not to jostle him too much. "I, for one, am going to go see if any of the kids are up for a football game this weekend. Maybe if you're good, we'll drag your carcass out onto the back porch and you can watch."

"Cage and all, huh?" Whoops. Nathan closed his eyes, telling himself to stop being ridiculous. Traction was good. Traction meant he'd be able to walk properly in a few weeks. "Sorry..." A little too long since his last visit from Mr. Morphine, maybe.

"Cage and all." Cain agreed, standing up slowly and nodding through the door to Moira. "We'll get you fixed up, Nate. Heck, by the time you're out of here, they'll probably have me flying that fancy plane of theirs. Wouldn't want to miss that, would you?"

A smile flickered across Nathan's face. "Can see Haroun cringing already at the thought. Fun image, that one."

"Ain't it?" Cain joked. He nodded one last time to Nathan. "Besides, last I counted, it's your round down at Harry's, and we can't wheel this bed all the way there. So hurry your ass up, man."