xp_logs | Growing Pains: Part 3, Richard Forge, Amanda, Dani, and Jean

After getting the worst of the news, Forge's father waits for the final test results to come in, and is comforted by Amanda, who decides that if she can't help the son, the father needs it just as much.

Richard Forge paced back and forth, waiting for Hank to come out with the last bit of the results. His son was asleep after their talk, and the decision he'd come to was a reasonably big one. Richard wasn't one hundred percent at ease with it - what parent would be? - but if he'd learn to trust in one thing, it was John Henry's determination.

Brushing his hair back, he glanced at one of the end tables, expecting an out-of-date magazine instead of the everpresent laptops that seemed to be commonplace on campus. Finally, lacing his fingers behind his head, he just leaned back and closed his eyes.

The man had so much a resemblance to Forge it had to be his dad, even if she hadn't been able to deduce that the stranger looking worried in the medlab area had to be a relative, one they'd been told was coming, at that. Forge had seemed to resolve things with him during his last visit, which was a point in his favour, and he looked worried now, which was another. Enough, Amanda decided, for her to make her usual gesture of concern. The one involving dried leaves, hot water and milk squirted out of a cow.

"Tea?" she asked softly, not wanting to startle him. Hopefully the sound of Docs on the floor had already alerted him to her approach, a pair of steaming mugs in her hands. She couldn't help Forge, but perhaps she could help his dad.

Cracking his eye open, Richard assessed the young woman before him. The boots and piercings seemed completely at odds with the calming smell of the tea. The accent did it, though.

"Yes, please," he answered, sitting up. "Unless I'm wrong, you'd be Amanda? John Henry's mentioned you in his letters." Mentioned that he'd been helping with some studies that he couldn't talk about for some reason, which had led Richard to assume there was perhaps something a little ... odd about that relationship.

"He did?" Amanda smiled, oddly gratified by that. She handed over the mug, and then hesitated only a moment before taking a seat in one of the other chairs. "Um, yeah, that's me. I help out in the medlab sometimes, an' Forge is a mate, so I thought I'd see if I could help." Her frustration became evident. "Too much bloody metal, like I thought. Blocks my..." She realised Forge Senior probably wasn't acquainted with magic, and belatedly changed that to: "Powers."

"Aha," Richard said, sipping the tea. Quite good, he decided. Better than the Earl Grey that Professor Xavier had offered him on his last visit. Watching Amanda, he reassessed his evaluation of the girl. This wasn't the concern of a girlfriend, just a concerned friend. "Yes, he's been rather expressive about a lot of his classmates in his letters home. I have to admit, it's a bit odd. I think I've learned more about him in the past two months than I have in the past five years." He shrugged slightly, then contiinued to drink his tea. "I take it you help out with medical matters here?"

Amanda smiled, seeing her tea being well-recieved. "'S sort of an English thing," she said. "When in doubt, tea. Forge talks 'bout you too, sometimes, when we're workin' together. He seems t' think a lot of both you an' his mum, even if he doesn't say it very well. I get the impression that if it's not t' do with the way things work, Forge wasn't always so good with the words. He's gettin' the hang of it now, tho'," she added with a wry chuckle, remembering some of their talks. "Um, yeah, I'm one of the student helpers down here. There's three of us - the other two're interested in medicine an' doctorin' an' the like, an' me... um, I'm sort of naturally inclined, I s'pose you could call it." Glancing towards Forge's door, she frowned a little. "How's he doin'? The docs said things were... it was more 'n just a broken arm?"

Richard sighed, nodding. "It's a bone problem from his... accident. It must have gone undiagnosed when he was initially treated. He's..." A long sigh followed, then a few deep breaths as Richard caught his composure. "He's going to lose most of the rest of his arm."

"Fuck," Amanda said with feeling, and then bit her lip, looking at Richard anxiously. She remembered something about parents not being the sort to swear in front of. "That's just..." She gestured helplessly, then clenched her fists as she realised her fingertips were glowing slightly golden. A healing spell with nowhere to go - her automatic reaction to someone in pain. "Bloody metal," she muttered again, before composing herself. If it was hard for her to hear, it must be ten times worse for his dad. And for Forge himself. "How's he takin' it?" she asked at last.

Richard stifled a chuckle. "Dr. McCoy told him as gently as he could. He took it a bit hard, but he's always been a bit of a stoic. Wasn't five minutes before he started coming up with a plan himself. Henry's checking on the viability of it, but it looks like my son is going to build his own replacement."

Noting the light from Amanda's hands, Richard paused, teacup halfway to his lips. "Are you all right?" he asked earnestly.

"That'd be Forge," she murmured, still worried, but at least Forge was trying to deal with it. Better than she would have, she suspected. At Richard's question, she blinked and looked down at her clenched hands, still glowing slightly. "Bugger." With effort, she cancelled the spell, and the light faded. "'S all right, just me power. One of the things I do, I Heal. Speed up the natural process, sort of thing. 'S what I meant by bein' naturally inclined. Problem is, I've done it so often, 's almost automatic for me t' start the sp... um, the process when I come down here, an' since it won't work on Forge, 's got nowhere t' go. It'll settle down in a bit." He looked worried, she realised with slight surprise. That was actually sort of nice. "'S frustratin'," she admitted. "I've got a lot of power, but there're limits t' what I can fix. An' I don't like seein' me friends hurt.

"You're a lot like him, then." Richard set the teacup aside and leaned forward, cocking his head in an eerily similar gesture to his son's. "He's always going a million miles an hour, looking for something he can fix or someone he can help out. I wonder if he's pushing himself too hard some days, but to be honest - I've never seen him this happy."

"He is. Happy." Amanda's tone was definite. "Doesn't take peekin' at his aura t' tell that..." Oops. She'd slipped again. Hopefully he'd think she was one of those dippy hippy types, although the boots and the remaining piercings probably didn't lend themselves to that. "An' yeah, he's like that. This whole accident... he did it t' try an' cheer someone up. Which is so bloody like him. I just wish he'd told me 'bout what he was plannin' t' do first - could have told him there's more t' horses than an instruction book." Shaking her head, she couldn't help smiling a little wryly. "Mind you, I've done just as stupid, for the same reasons."

Richard actually laughed out loud at that. "Horses? Doctor McCoy had said it, but I still don't believe it. I remember my son as this bookish, private boy who thought Outside was something meant for other people." He smiled at the thought. "I can't begin to say how good it's been for him here. Even with all this."

"Horses," Amanda affirmed. "An' goin' out t' see live music, an' movies with friends, an' all the rest of it. He's not the same person he was when he got here, that's for sure." She grinned, a little impishly. "He's even learnin' t' flirt. Manages all right, too, when he isn't blushin' himself t' death."

"So I'd gathered from his letters," Richard said with a smile. "It's ironic that he comes here because he's different, and instead learns how to become... almost normal." Forge's father beamed with paternal pride, mixed with a bit of sadness. "And then there's this. He seems to be determined to get through it, but he holds so much inside, even now."

"This place, insane as it can be, is the most normal I've every lived in," Amanda said softly. "It's home, to a lot of us." Shaking her head slightly, not wanting to come across all sentimental in front of this man she didn't really know, despite the way he reminded her of Forge, she continued, a little firmer. "We'll get him through this. You an' his mum, an' his friends. An' if he tries holdin' stuff inside, well, there's those of us who have sneaky ways of makin' sure he's okay."

Richard nodded. "It seems he has a lot of those here. You, Catseye, Danielle - how's she doing with the baby, by the way? I haven't seen her yet."

"About ready t' pop, by the looks of her," Amanda said with another grin. "An' hatin' every minute of it. I think the whole bein' the size of a house thing is gettin' to her, as well as the fact she can't do all the stuff she wants to. Self-sufficient, that one."

"Cheryl Ann, that's Forge's mother, was the same way. A little older than Danielle, but a lot of the same spirit." Richard beamed, remembering those early days of his marriage.

"Well, McCoy's adoptin' the baby, so there's that load off Dani's mind - I think it's helpin'." Certainly there had been less trips to the Box lately. An so that was how parents looked, talking about their kids. The same as Nate. "Forge tends t' attract the strong-willed type - you should see Dani fussin' over him like she's his big sister or his mum or somethin'. I don't think he minds, tho'."

"They are a pair, aren't they? And Henry's adopting the child? I'll have to congratulate him on fatherhood and welcome him to the club, then. He's been something of a surrogate thus far for John Henry as well." Richard paused, as always feeling the mix of jealousy and gratitude that a parent tends to feel towards a beloved mentor. "So, since my son always seems to dodge the direct question, has he found a girlfriend yet?"

"Not for want of tryin'," Amanda said, cheefully giving away Forge's secrets. Of course he'd be weird about girls to his dad. He was weird about girls in general, although he'd improved. "Problem with here is most of the girls are either attached, or like sisters to him. Or they're cats most of the time." At least she hadn't said "they think they're cats". She didn't want another swim in the lake. "I keep plannin' t' get him off-campus, go an' have some fun where he can meet people, but stuff kept gettin' in the way. He'll get there, eventually - maybe with this HeliX thing he's gettin' involved with, he'll find someone."

"His politics group?" Richard replied. John Henry had been positively effusive about it in his letters, and Richard had been heartily encouraging his son. "I can't say how proud of him I am about that. His inventing, that's going to come naturally to him. But he's so passionate about this HeliX group... sometimes it's hard to stop him talking about it. His mother, she handles government liaisoning for the company she and I work for. I think our phone bill screams every time they talk politics on the weekends."

"I can imagine. He's talked my ear off about it plenty of times. Ever since the Columbia speech - 's what got us talkin', originally. He helped me with it, made me feel less nervous. I help out where I can with Helix, only it's hard now I'm lookin' after a kid." She tilted her head slightly. "So, his mum's spirit an' his dad's thing for people. He's done well."

"And his friends' support," Richard added. "Which has made all the difference. Having friends, even. It's a new thing for him, one I'm glad to see he's taken to well."

"He's a fast learner," Amanda replied, glancing at the door again. "An' it helped, I think, fixin' things with you." Her fingers tingled briefly, and she made the conscious effort to clamp down on the magic. Part of the hazards about not throwing it around as freely, it tended to want to leak out, especially when she was stressed. As if the memory crystal hadn't been enough. "So, how long're stayin' for?" she asked.

"At least until after the surgery," Richard explained, "Once it's scheduled. I know a fellow I can call, who ironically was one of Dr. McCoy's post-graduate colleagues and now heads up Progressive Medicine at NYU. If there's anyone that knows as much about John Henry's condition as my son himself, it'd be Dr. Smythe."

"If it had t' happen, it couldn't have happened in a better place," the girl said with the quiet conviction of one who had seen the medlab staff do miracles. And it was progress indeed that she could admit that now.

"The doctors here, plus this bloke of yers, an' Forge himself... they'll be able t' fix this." As much as it could be fixed, at least. Amanda didn't express the fear the thought of losing a limb and having it replaced with cold steel and circuitry instilled in her. But then again, she had a unique perspective on the metal issue.

"I'm sure they will." Almost as if on cue, Richard could hear Henry and his son talking through the door. He jerked his head slightly. "I think that's my cue. Thank you for the tea."

"No worries," Amanda said, getting up and collecting the empty cup. "It was nice t' meet you, Mr Forge." A rare sign of respect from the girl who seldom used honorifics.

"Likewise, Amanda. I'll be sure to let John Henry know you're looking to see him." With that, Richard stood and walked into the medlab, more confident than before somehow that everything would be all right.

After some more discussion with Forge and Dr. McCoy, Richard heads up to the kitchen to see a familiar face.

"Tsehehêhestovêstse?" Dani asked, abandoning her bowl of dough to see the older man as he came into the kitchen from the medlab, "How is he? They won't let me see him..." Her worry was almost palpable.

Richard paused, extending an arm to catch Dani in a quick hug. "He'll be all right, Dani. It's going to take some doing, but we'll get him fixed up. I think after Dr. McCoy and Dr. MacTaggart finish some of the tests, he'll be able to see visitors."

Leaning back against the kitchen counter, he nodded politely at Danielle's very pregnant midsection. "You look like you're coming along nicely. John Henry mentions that he's been dragged kicking and screaming to Lamaze with you."

"Uh...yeah..." Dani blushed, hugging him back, suddenly realizing how it might look to his father. Not so good, really. "He's don't like it much, but he goes, but, I mean...I appreciate it. You sure he's gonna be okay?"

Richard nodded, easing past Dani to help himself to a cup of coffee. "I... I wouldn't say okay just yet. From what he and Dr. McCoy were saying, he'll need surgery. I'm going to make some calls this afternoon. But John Henry's why they invented the word genius. It wasn't five minutes after Dr. McCoy broke the news that he had a plan worked up."

"That's Forge," Dani agreed, staring wistfully at the coffee before going back to mixing the dough for frybread. "He thinks like a fox. How're you doing then?"

"Business is picking up," Richard explained, "AerieTech, that's the company I represent, is trying to hold off a merger. Stane International wants to fold us into their aeronautics division, but that'd cost about ten thousand of our employees their jobs. So I've been burning the midnight oil with my legal team looking for loopholes." He ran a hand through his hair, just beginning to be shot through with gray. "Other than that, I have to say things have been looking up. John Henry writes at least once a week, and I can't begin to say how thankful I am for how this place is affecting him. How all of you are affecting him." He directed the last part at Dani, mindful of how his son had mentioned her in his letters. "You take care of him, and I appreciate that."

Most of what Mr. Forge had said went right over Dani's head as she kneaded her dough, but she nodded politely until he mentioned Xavier's. "It seems like a good place for a lot of us," she commented, including herself in that. "And Forge takes care of us too, ain't it? I mean...we look out for each other."

"He said he sees it like a tribe," Forge's father agreed. "I don't know how it is with your rez down south, but I grew up in a traditional community. Everyone had their roles and helped out because it helped the group. Communal living with centuries of history." He grinned widely. "He said you took him to the New York powwow. Tell me he didn't make a scene."

Scowling, Dani remembered that particular day. "I got in a fight with a Pawnee," she muttered, rolling out the dough.

"Oeskeso," Richard said quickly before catching himself. "I'm sorry, we're supposed to be politically correct with our brothers and sisters now, aren't we? It's hard to let go of old grudges, I have to admit. When Cheryl Ann - that's my wife - and I were married, my grandparents were up in arms about my marriage to a white woman. But once John Henry came along, they forgot all those things."

"Hahkota was less than impressed," she said, rolling her eyes at absurdity of being upset over a fight with a Pawnee. "But if I'd ever thought about dating a white man...Never. Namshim would have never allowed it. Now, I think maybe dating a white man ain't as bad as being emâsêhánee'e."
(crazy)

"We're all a little crazy at times," Richard agreed. "It's the people we keep close to us that help us come back to earth. I know I'd lose myself in work half the time without Cheryl Ann. And John Henry," he added, smiling widely at finally being able to say that honestly.

"Speaking of whom," he said calmly, "I need to make a call to an old college friend of mine who's head of Progressive Medicine at NYU. If anyone can recommend a specialist for John Henry, he can. But I'll be sure to drop in later for some of that frybread I see you kneading there?"

Nodding, suddenly shy, Dani agreed, realizing that he hadn't quite answered her question about he was feeling and with the inhibitor she couldn't try to feel for the answer, "Hahkota likes it a lot. I try to make it everyday."

"I've tried a few times," Richard admitted sheepishly, "but I never can get the taste of my grandmother's frybread right. I may have to steal your recipe before I leave."

Grinning, she nodded, pleased that he approved of her frybread, although only part was the recipe itself, what made it really good was how it was made, the technique, which couldn't be learned from a recipe on a paper. "I'll write it down."

Settling into the guest room, Forge's father gets a visit from Jean. Some confessions are made, and later, some realization finally sets in hard.

Jean pushed her hair back from her face, feeling tired down to her soul. She had been going over the results from Forge's bone marrow tests, looking for other causes, other solutions, other sources of hope, and while she had found some things, it didn't look like it would be enough. She knew Hank had already spoken with both Forge and his father but she wanted to see how he was doing for herself, and she needed a few minutes away from the medical bay. (more)
Reaching the suite where Mr. Forge had been installed for the time being, she tapped lightly on the door. "Mr. Forge? It's Doctor Grey."

Richard looked up from unpacking his suitcase and walked over to the door. He opened it, momentarily shocked at the tall redhead in the hallway. "Dr. Grey? Oh, please do come in. I'd offer you some coffee, but..." he looked around the room briefly, "I'm still getting settled. Has anything new developed with John Henry?"

"Quite all right," Jean said, stepping inside. "I'm afraid not, no. I understand Doctor McCoy has explained what we've found so far?"

Richard nodded. "I'm no doctor, I actually think my son understands more than I do. It's an odd feeling, deferring to his judgment here. I... it was difficult, when the accident happened. I'm still not sure..." he looked over at Jean, sinking down into the padded chair behind him. "How much do you know about what caused the accident that originally injured John Henry?" he asked.

"Very little," she admitted. "His file was remarkably quite on the matter."

Richard sat silent for a moment. Doctor Grey was, after all, his son's primary care physician now. If anyone had a right to know...

"Almost a year and a half ago now, my son... his mother and I weren't aware of what he was going through. Introverted, isolated, we thought it was just a phase. He never talked about the trouble he had dealing with the other children at school, how they'd single him out and just - you know how children are when one person sticks out from the group." Richard Forge's voice was thick with bitterness. "He made a bomb, and brought it to his school. No one else was hurt, from what I understand there was some kind of freak electrical surge that ended up setting it off in his locker. I... his mother and I were stunned. We spent the next year with him in therapy, seeing family counselors. Until Professor Xavier contacted us, we didn't know what to do."

Jean took a deep breath, nodding slowly. Yes, of course that would not make it into his normal files. "I had gathered that he'd had difficulty in school before, but I wasn't aware of the extent."

"He's been meeting with Leonard - Dr. Samson - since he's been here. It's the... acceptance here that's changed him, so much. Even though he seems to be taking this well, though..." Richard sighed, dropping his head into his hands. "I can't help feeling that I've somehow failed him, not being able to be here for him while he's going through these changes, even for the better."

"I understand," Jean said. "My parents had... similar difficulties when I first came to Xavier's. I think there's a certain amount of that for all parents of mutants - a feeling that there's some part of their life that you can't help them with. For what it's worth, though, I get no sense that Forge blames you."

Richard looked up, mixed gratitude and sadness in his eyes. "He's said as much. And Walter - that's the fellow that Cheryl Ann and I have been seeing - said much the same thing. His daughter just tested positive for the mutant gene, and he's been a wonderful help. I can't begin to express how happy I am that John Henry has people like you all here to look up to."

A moment of silence, then brief puzzlement spread across Richard's face. "Pardon me if this seems completely out of left field, but Doctor Grey? Doctor Jean Grey? I'm sorry, I thought I heard something on the news a year or two back, that you'd vanished during an expedition of some sort?"

Jean couldn't help a brief flush. "Ah, yes, I am that Doctor Grey. I was... lost, in Canada and suffered a blow to the head which caused rather severe and complete amnesia. It was presumed I had died in the... accident, but seems not to have been the case."

"Wonders never seem to cease here," Richard replied with a grin. "Students who walk through walls, seven foot tall blue PhDs, girls who turn into cats, and a noted Washington lobbyist found after two years presumed dead." He paled slightly, then held up a hand. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to offend. I'm still getting used to the reality of it all myself."

"It's all right," Jean assured him, taking a deep breath. "Believe me, there were very few people quite as startled as I to find out I wasn't dead." And that was a very difficult thing to explain. "Actually, from what I understand, you're last visit to the school and my return coincided. I suspect you may have heard some of the commotion..."

Richard blinked. "Oh, yes. Now I recall. I didn't put two and two together there. I suppose I should have. He's mentioned your name rather prominently when talking about his political leanings."

"We've discussed them, yes. He has a lot of enthusiasm, which is always the best way to start. Once he gets a little experience I believe he will be a force to be reckoned with."

"He has good examples to work from here." Richard nodded, then checked his watch. "I believe I have a few calls to make, on Henry's recommendation. Dr. Smythe at NYU is an old college friend of mine, as well as an expert on medical cybernetics. I'd like to ask if he'll perform whatever surgery's needed for John Henry."

"Of course," Jean said. "I just wanted to touch base with you, and I promise we'll let you know right away if anything new develops."

Richard stood up, extending a hand to Jean. "Thank you. For everything, I mean. You've all been such a help, I can't begin to express it enough."

Taking his hand, Jean smiled. "I simply wish there was more I could do, now."

"I think that would require divine intervention," Richard joked. "But if you happen to know where we could acquire some, I wouldn't argue."

"I'll keep my eyes open for any passing gods," she said. "But for now I should get back to work."

As Jean left, Richard Forge shut the door, then slowly walked over to the bed. Never a very religious man at the best of times, he still found himself whispering a quick prayer for his son as he picked up the phone.