Hindsight is 20/20

[Bobby Drake]

(( OOC: Mostly thinking of this as a one-shot, but anyone who wants to join in is free to. ))

“…With his filters destroyed, Juggernaut succumbed to the guards’ gas attacks.”

Bobby hits ‘save’ and puts his laptop aside for the moment, leaning back against the rock, rolls up to his feet and starts stretching the kinks out of his neck and back. He always feels like the world’s biggest geek when he ends up doing classwork by the lakeside on a beautiful summer day like this, but that incident report has been nagging him enough that he finally just decided to get it finished.

Although he’s not really finished. Ordinary incident reports are pretty straightforward, even for major operations like that prison breakout, but this one’s special: Bobby intends to submit it as his mid-term written project for Professor Putzkammer’s Tactics class, which means he’s got to answer all the questions Professor P loves to ask – why he’d done what he did, what he could have done better, what resources he’d failed to take advantage of, all that stuff. It’s easier to write that sort of paper about Danger Room exercises, but Bobby figures he’ll get extra points for picking a real field operation… and after flunking the class last semester Bobby’s determined to ace it this time.

The problem is, the more he thinks about it, the less sure he is that he did the right thing. I gambled that I could deal with the Juggernaut by myself – and I was almost wrong. He fingers the scar on his knee that reminds him of how close he’d come, not only to getting killed, but to taking the security forces with him... I never even considered that he might wear filters. He also hadn’t considered that the defensive squads might already have been killed, but he’d somehow ended up getting credit for it, since the Institute group he’d sent to “back them up” ended up taking their place.

Thus far, he hasn’t mentioned any of this to anyone, but it has soured every congratulatory comment he’s gotten, and he’s tired of it. So, OK. Time to ‘fess up. He picks up his laptop again, takes a deep breath, and resumes typing.

“As the situation worked out, the choices I made resulted in filling the gap in our defenses while neutralizing the frontal attack. Our casualty and death count was still high, and the enemy completed their mission successfully, but my actions minimized the resulting damage.

However, this was primarily due to luck. I operated in an information vacuum, engaged the enemy without a plan, and hoped for the best; the fact that I got it doesn’t change the fact that I took unreasonable risks. I ought to have sent Zip and Cannonball to scout the situation and return intelligence before taking action.

Granted, had I done so in this case the result would most likely have been to increase the casualty count and the number of escaped convicts while I waited for intelligence. But next time, I’m unlikely to be so fortunate.

Overall assessment: Poor.”

He frowns at the document, which somehow seems harsher on the screen than he’d intended, then shrugs and saves and closes it and emails it to Professor Putzkammer with the subject header “Team Tactics – Final Project.” After a moment’s thought he emails it to Ororo as well, with the subject header “Field performance evaluation: Robert Drake.”

It comes nowhere close to being the hardest email he’s ever sent, but it’s still difficult to hit “OK”. Afterwards, though, he feels a profound sense of relief, as of being absolved of a guilt he didn’t know he was carrying. He shuts down the laptop and hoots wildly as he dives into the lake for a swim.

[Bobby Drake]

Bobby surfaces from a deep dive just in time to hear the shout “Caaaanonball!” a moment before Sam hits the lake surface, legs folded up underneath him, sending up a huge splash. He shakes the excess water out of his hair and laughs as the other boy resurfaces. "You never get tired of that, do you?"

Sam grins back, looking absurdly pleased with himself and showing altogether too many teeth. “Nope, never do! Gotta live up to the codename, right? Leastwise, in the summer. Hey, word is y’all swim in here in the winter, too… that right? Never saw it myself…”

Bobby shrugs, treading water next to Sam. "Used to. Probably will again… cold doesn’t bug me, and I like swimming. Last winter was special, though… didn’t have my powers. Not so much fun swimming in ice-water, then." He’s surprised to realize how much it feels like ancient history, despite being only a few months ago.

“Yeah, heard about that.” Sam looks Bobby over warily for a moment, as if deciding whether or not to say something, before continuing. “Way folks talked about y’all when ah got here, never expected y’all to take the Cure. Why’d y’all do it?”

The question startles Bobby, and he coughs as some water splashes into his gaping mouth. As he recovers, he realizes he shouldn’t be all that surprised… sure, his condition had been obvious, but it’s not like there’d been an official memo explaining the whole story or anything. And he really doesn’t want to get into the whole story, anyway, some parts of which he still hasn’t come to terms with. "I didn’t. I was attacked by, um, by the Brotherhood – Magneto’s mutant army, you know? – and they shot me full of the stuff so I couldn’t fight back, or break out."

Sam’s eyes widen at that, and he lets out a low, long whistle that carries over the entire surface of the lake and echoes back from its banks. “Sheeee-it… that must’ve been awful!” Bobby shrugs in response. "Wasn’t fun." Which isn’t much of an answer, granted, but then again Bobby really doesn’t want to talk about it, or think about it, or, to be honest, acknowledge that it happened. Sean’s been after him to open up about that period during their last few sessions, and he’s been trying, but it hasn’t come easily.

Sam seems thoughtful, and Bobby suspects he’s trying to come up with a less awkward topic of conversation until the kid proves him wrong. “That’s about when Allerdyce transferred, right? So… are the rumors true? Ah mean, is he really that Pyro, the Brotherhood terrorist? And were y’all, y’know… ah mean, word is y’all were…ah mean, before he and Rogue…”

Bobby’s almost amused by Sam’s combination of hesitation and prying, almost enough to overcome his annoyance at the question itself. "Sam, are you asking me if John and I used to fuck?" He enjoys the startled expression on Sam’s face, however transient. “Yeah, ah guess that’s what ah’m asking. Course, it ain’t really none of my business, right?”

"No, it really isn’t. And, yes, he was one of Magneto’s little soldiers for a while. He also risked his life to get me away from the Brotherhood, before coming here. He’s also probably my best friend ever, and yes we did, and if I were you I wouldn’t go around judging him until I’d been through half of the shit he’s been through and come out the other side. OK? You seem like a nice kid, Sam, but there’s things you don’t know."

He breaks the awkward pause that follows by starting to swim slowly towards the lake bank.

[Bobby Drake]

Sam catches up to Bobby as he reaches shore, and they sit in awkward silence by the lakeside as the sun dries them off, until Sam finally breaks it. “Y’know, you’re right… ah got no call mouthing off about somebody I hardly know. Y’ask me, John Allerdyce’s a prime grade-A jerk, way he treats everybody, but ain’t nobody askin’ me an’ anyway that ain’t what I was gonna say.”

More silence, then, and Bobby finally unbends enough to nod. "Fair enough… you’re entitled to the opinion, and you aren’t alone in it. And, truthfully, I’m not exactly arguing the point myself. But, that aside… what were you going to say?"

Sam looks over the lake for a long time before answering. “Y’know, when ah first got here, all the older kids made out like y’all was some kind of wonder-child. Practically the youngest X-Man there ever was, an’ word was y’all an’ Mr. Logan’d held off an army, an’ y’all fought Magneto himself, an’ rescued Congress, an’ all.” Bobby’s taken aback by that… it was true, kinda, but the way Sam makes it sound isn’t the way it was. "Kitty was younger. And… well, anyway, what’s your point?"

“Well, truth is, Bobby, ah pretty much figured y’all for a freak, what with the way y’all dressed and treated everybody, and the rumors about y’all and Pyro, an’ especially after Thanksgiving break… y’all didn’t seem right in the head, and word was y’all’d taken the Cure, an’ then after Christmas y’were just… wrong. Y’know? And, yeah, ah know, it was that whole MGH/psychopathy thing, Dr. McCoy an’ Miss Monroe explained all that, but still… truth is, ah didn’t think much of y’all.”

On some consideration, Bobby decides he’d preferred the compliments, even if he didn’t think they were entirely justified, to this litany of his faults. Again, it was all true, kinda, but the way Sam makes it sound… well, no, actually he’d pretty much hit the nail on the head. Sam’s looking at his face warily, to see how he’s taking this, and continues at Bobby’s curt nod.

“Anyway… so ah wasn’t crazy ‘bout workin’ with y’all on that prison assignment. But, hey, class project is a class project, ah didn’t make a fuss about it. An’ ah’m glad, ‘cuz ah got t’see you in action. Sheeeit, Bobby, y’all took off after that Juggernaut critter like a coyote after a three-legged rabbit an’ sent the rest of us t’back up the guards before half the professionals in there’d barely gotten up outta their seats! Took him out, too… an’ came back t’help me an’ Alice out, an man, ah saw the way y’all’s leg was busted up, ain’t never seen nothin’ like that, even in the mines. Me, ah would’ve sat out the rest of the fight with a leg like that.” Sam shakes his head incredulously, remembering.

“So, anyway… ah just wanted t’apologize for not giving y’all a chance, before. Still don’t much care for y’all’s taste in friends, but...” he pauses, then sticks out his hand in Bobby’s direction, “well, ah’d be honored t’be one of ‘em, anyway.”

Bobby’s a little bewildered by Sam’s speech – it seems somehow out of character for a kid he’d mostly pegged as the official class clown of the class of ’11 – but ultimately recovers and shakes Sam’s hand. "Well… thanks. Honor’s mine, Sam. But… you know, you weren’t really wrong about me. I’ve been seven kinds of mess for about as long as you’ve been at the Institute. Same goes for Laurie and Tobias and most of the other frosh. Even now, there’s good days and bad days.”

“And as for the prison breakout…" He’s surprised by how hard this is, even after sending his evaluation to Storm and Bernie. "I guess you’re right about some of that, too. I responded quickly, and charged right into the fight, and me and the army beat the Juggernaut, which is pretty freakin’ cool.”

But, as for the rest of it… the truth is I was dumb and lucky. I was just thinking about it a few minutes ago, writing the incident report up… I should’ve used you and Zip as scouts before charging in like a tank, not sent you to back up a guard unit I didn’t even know was dead. Hell, from your report, it sounds like I came pretty close to getting you killed."

He shrugs, then adds hastily to cut off Sam’s argument "Look, I’m not fishing for compliments here. You’re right, I took charge and moved quickly and I should be proud of that. And I am, mostly. And I could’ve begged off on the whole leg thing, and I didn’t – though I came pretty damned close. But… I don’t want to take credit for stuff I didn’t really do, and I don’t want anybody learning the wrong lesson, y’know? My whole charging-into-battle thing was dramatic, but it wasn’t teamwork. Next time we go in together, yeah?"

[Ororo Munroe]

Ororo types absentmindedly at her laptop for a few minutes, and shuffles some papers around. The weather was ridiculously nice, and it was hard to stay focused. Worse, she’d chosen the back patio as an office this afternoon, and there were students and faculty coming and going frequently.

Admittedly, she herself had started at least half the conversations thus far. Only a few minutes ago, Hank had run past for some lab equipment that was apparently coming in the mail. Focus!
Ororo opens up her email client, and begins poking around. There are a few emails from other faculty. The opening meeting for the new school was just around the corner, and she was finalizing a few details on that. There’s also something from SHIELD to take care of later, as well as an email from Bobby.

“Hm… what’s this now?” Ororo sits down to read the email. After a few minutes, she blinks, and sets her cup of tea down. Somehow, Bobby never ceases to amaze me.

Did he think she was actually upset with him? Granted, the actual report had been for Bernie’s tactics class. But she hadn’t thought he’d done badly at all. He’d operated on the knowledge he’d had at the moment. If Juggernaut had destroyed the command center, SHIELD would have killed them. Nick Fury was already enough of a Type A personality…

“Time to straighten this out.” Ororo closes the lid on her computer and sets her teacup down onto a few loose papers. She’d seen the boys go down the lake a short while ago. Ororo gets up and heads for the dock.

A few minutes later, Storm arrives at her destination, and spots the two boys sitting next to the water.

> "Look, I’m not fishing for compliments here. You’re right, I took charge and moved quickly and I should be proud of that. And I am, mostly. And I could’ve begged off on the whole leg thing, and I didn’t – though I came pretty damned close. But… I don’t want to take credit for stuff I didn’t really do, and I don’t want anybody learning the wrong lesson, y’know? My whole charging-into-battle thing was dramatic, but it wasn’t teamwork. Next time we go in together, yeah?"

She coughs lightly behind them, a short distance away. "I also don't want you beating yourself up, Bobby." Ororo steps off the path into the grass, and indicates the empty space next to Bobby. "I got your email. Do you mind if I sit down?"

[Bobby Drake]

Sam seems about to say something when Ororo gets both of their attentions, and Bobby turns around, surprised. Wow… didn’t even notice her coming. Now that he pays attention, he notices that the air around her is very close to her body temperature. Heh… wonder if she was being sneaky, or if she just does that naturally? Never noticed, before.

> " I also don't want you beating yourself up, Bobby. I got your email. Do you mind if I sit down?"

"Of course not – have a seat! I’d invite you to join us for a swim, except you aren’t really dressed for it. I mean, unless you and no-I’m-not-going-to-finish-that-sentence and, yeah, that email!" It occurs to Bobby that, not too long ago, he’d have been incredibly anxious about this conversation… it actually feels a little strange not to be. But the truth is, he realizes as he thinks about it, that this really isn’t about Storm’s evaluation, it’s about his own.

"Look, I’m not beating myself up about it. I’m just saying, as team tactics go, I made some wrong decisions that happened to work out well. We were lucky, I’m glad, and next time I’ll do better. That’s all." He chuckles a little and adds "And, just in case we’re forgetting this little tidbit: I took on the freakin’ Juggernaut and walked – well, OK, hopped – away from it! Which ranks up there with that Congress mission on the Things I’m Proud Of list. Hell, it took you and Wolverine to take him down the first time, right? I’m totally stoked about that… thinking of getting a T-shirt that reads “I beat up the Juggernaut and all I got was this lousy T-shirt!” or something."

He shrugs, realizing he’s babbling a little, and settles down. "But, anyway… sorry, I’m kinda babbling. What did you want to talk about?"

[Ororo Munroe]

>"Of course not – have a seat! I’d invite you to join us for a swim, except you aren’t really dressed for it. I mean, unless you and no-I’m-not-going-to-finish-that-sentence and, yeah, that email!"

Ororo snorts slightly and lets him continue. Whatever was going on with Bobby, he didn’t fail to make her laugh. Of course, that was different when he was under the influence of Dr. Richards’ Mutant Growth Hormone. Thank goodness that’s over with.

>"But, anyway… sorry, I’m kinda babbling. What did you want to talk about?"

Storm places her arms on her knees, and stares out across the lake for a moment. “I wanted to talk about you and the X-Men, actually. I was extremely impressed with your performance at the SHIELD outpost, and was wondering if you felt ready to rejoin the team officially. I know you’ve been getting used to your mutation again…” She smiles slightly. “…but I think that you’re back at your previous level of skill.”

“I understand from your email that you feel you made some tactical mistakes on the field. What I want you to understand is that while tactics are useful to study in the classroom, employing them effectively on the battlefield is another story entirely. Even I have problems thinking in the middle of battle sometimes. I think you performed brilliantly, and made the best choices you could with the information you had available.” Ororo takes hold of Bobby’s shoulder and squeezes it slightly.

“I also want you to know that I only took you off the team because I was concerned as to what your other self would do in battle. He strove to think logically… which sometimes doesn’t work on the battlefield. There’s an element of humanity that he was missing that made him unsuitable for inclusion on the team.” Well, that and I was absolutely appalled at the risk you took with the MGH. But that’s neither here nor there at this point. “This Bobby, on the other hand, I have complete confidence in.”

"So, what do you say? Ready to save the world again?" Ororo raises an eyebrow seriously.

[Bobby Drake]

> " I was extremely impressed with your performance at the SHIELD outpost, and was wondering if you felt ready to rejoin the team officially. I know you’ve been getting used to your mutation again but I think that you’re back at your previous level of skill. "

Bobby feels vaguely like he ought to pretend to be all surprised and everything, but actually he’s mostly not, so he just nods. "Yeah, I’m pretty much back in my prime… if anything, this new ice-form trick of mine makes me even more powerful than I was before, though I could really do without losing another limb ever again." He shudders a little at the recollection. "That was… creepy. I wonder if Pete ever went through anything like that?"

> " I also want you to know that I only took you off the team because I was concerned as to what your other self would do in battle. He strove to think logically… which sometimes doesn’t work on the battlefield. There’s an element of humanity that he was missing that made him unsuitable for inclusion on the team. "

Bobby nods more seriously. "There’s an understatement. But let’s be honest here: I had no business being on the team after the kidnapping, either; I was half out of my skull after that, not to mention powerless. Taking the MGH just drove me all the way out of my skull." He’s stopped being surprised by how much easier all of this has become for him to talk about, ever since he’d started seeing Sean regularly… it’s like he’s gotten out of the habit of hiding himself.

"It wasn’t another self, you know. It was all me… but yeah, like you said, with some parts missing. Though it wasn’t so much that I “strove” to think logically, you know… it was more of a compulsion. Either way, though, I’m glad to have all of me back… though I suppose Logan will never let me live it down, considering how often – " he cuts off abruptly, not finishing the thought… he’d been about to mention how often Scott used to criticize Logan for going in to situations without a plan, without thinking things through, and he feels somewhat disloyal to Scott’s memory for mentioning it. "Considering how low ‘thinking logically’ ranks on his list of priorities."

> " So, what do you say? Ready to save the world again? "

Bobby doesn’t doubt for a moment that Storm knows exactly what he’s going to say, but he’s feeling too damned good at the moment to be serious. So he leans back and pretends to think about it. "Gee, I don’t know… I mean, there are so many other mutant world-saving groups out there. I’ve been getting a lot of offers…a boy’s gotta look at all the options, you know? I’ll have to think about it." He can’t actually manage to keep a straight face, though, and he’s beaming like Christmas came early when Sam glares at him. “S’welp me, Bobby, y’all mess this up ah’ll drop y’ahundred miles off-shore an’ letcha float home on your own private iceberg…”

That cracks him up altogether, and he nods to Storm when he recovers his breath. "Of course. It’s good to be back. Hell, I even fit into my old uniform again!"