Post by Bobby Drake on Dec 25, 2006 1:39:11 GMT
Bob lies back down against the medbay bed, telling himself it’s just because he’s too exhausted to stay sitting up, and stares fixedly at the ceiling tiles for a while. Not that he’s not watching John and Marie… hugging… in the other bed, of course not, he’s just… not watching them, is all. Completely different.
No way I’m catching up on this semester… it’s almost over. So, OK, concentrate on January. Gives me about six weeks. I might be able to place out if I put everything else on back-burner. Drop the political work, drop the X-Men stuff, drop the combat and tactics practice… just be a normal student for a couple of months… ‘till my powers come back, at least…And what if they don’t? … or ‘till I graduate high-school. Only another year, really.
Out of the corner of his eye he notices John running his fingers through Marie’s hair (not that he’s looking, of course, his attention had been grabbed by her crying out), and he tenses… not that he cares, it’s just that it’s dangerous is all, she might… might… and it occurs to him to wonder how the John in Marie’s head had known the Brotherhood’s new location… how up-to-date his “psyke” had been… and how he’d gotten that way… and No, dammit, he wrenches his thoughts off of that track and back onto his plans for the future. I’m not going to give that bucket-headed creep the satisfaction of putting me out of the action. I may not be a mutant anymore but that doesn’t make me helpless.
He remembers a moment in Magneto’s dungeon when he realized the soldiers who shot him full of Cure could just as easily have poisoned him. “Next time I won’t make the same mistake,” he’d promised himself. He’d tried to make good on it with the one shot Magneto had left him… unsuccessfully, granted, but he’d tried. Now he’s got another chance, and damned if he’s going to let it go just so he can graduate on time.
OK. So. Combat training continues. Put off graduation a semester. Add weapons practice to the curriculum. I bet a sniper rifle with a poison dart could take bucket-head down before he even knows I’m there; just nobody’s had the balls to do it yet. Well, there’s always a first time, and –
> " ‘should probably take this somewhere more private. Just until she’s calmed down… her room, probably. "
There’s no reason for that suggestion to make the empty space in Bob’s chest suddenly grow larger and deeper and emptier; no reason for it to bring tears to his eyes. It’s just that he was thinking about Magneto and all… about being tortured and… yeah. That’s all. And that’s over. So there’s no reason for him to be upset now… none at all.
So he just nods, his face tight. "Yeah. You… right. Whatever. I’ve got… stuff, to do. To think about. " He tries to turn his back to them, but his ribs object, and he settles for closing his eyes. He can set up a Danger Room sniper-practice program… always more effective to practice in simulations anyway… and Logan can probably help him get his hands on some non-ferrous weaponry. If anybody would understand, Logan would.
> " So if you need anything… yep. Probably be there."
He nods again, and is aware of a stray part of his mind cataloging the information as if it were crucially important for him to know where to find John at all times, before he forcibly turns his attention back to Danger Room simulation parameters.
No way I’m catching up on this semester… it’s almost over. So, OK, concentrate on January. Gives me about six weeks. I might be able to place out if I put everything else on back-burner. Drop the political work, drop the X-Men stuff, drop the combat and tactics practice… just be a normal student for a couple of months… ‘till my powers come back, at least…
Out of the corner of his eye he notices John running his fingers through Marie’s hair (not that he’s looking, of course, his attention had been grabbed by her crying out), and he tenses… not that he cares, it’s just that it’s dangerous is all, she might… might… and it occurs to him to wonder how the John in Marie’s head had known the Brotherhood’s new location… how up-to-date his “psyke” had been… and how he’d gotten that way… and No, dammit, he wrenches his thoughts off of that track and back onto his plans for the future. I’m not going to give that bucket-headed creep the satisfaction of putting me out of the action. I may not be a mutant anymore but that doesn’t make me helpless.
He remembers a moment in Magneto’s dungeon when he realized the soldiers who shot him full of Cure could just as easily have poisoned him. “Next time I won’t make the same mistake,” he’d promised himself. He’d tried to make good on it with the one shot Magneto had left him… unsuccessfully, granted, but he’d tried. Now he’s got another chance, and damned if he’s going to let it go just so he can graduate on time.
OK. So. Combat training continues. Put off graduation a semester. Add weapons practice to the curriculum. I bet a sniper rifle with a poison dart could take bucket-head down before he even knows I’m there; just nobody’s had the balls to do it yet. Well, there’s always a first time, and –
> " ‘should probably take this somewhere more private. Just until she’s calmed down… her room, probably. "
There’s no reason for that suggestion to make the empty space in Bob’s chest suddenly grow larger and deeper and emptier; no reason for it to bring tears to his eyes. It’s just that he was thinking about Magneto and all… about being tortured and… yeah. That’s all. And that’s over. So there’s no reason for him to be upset now… none at all.
So he just nods, his face tight. "Yeah. You… right. Whatever. I’ve got… stuff, to do. To think about. " He tries to turn his back to them, but his ribs object, and he settles for closing his eyes. He can set up a Danger Room sniper-practice program… always more effective to practice in simulations anyway… and Logan can probably help him get his hands on some non-ferrous weaponry. If anybody would understand, Logan would.
> " So if you need anything… yep. Probably be there."
He nods again, and is aware of a stray part of his mind cataloging the information as if it were crucially important for him to know where to find John at all times, before he forcibly turns his attention back to Danger Room simulation parameters.
