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ax_main2018-11-13 06:06 am
ax_billyrocks) wrote in ax_main2018-11-13 06:06 am
Entry tags:
Billy and Scott | backdated November 13
Billy and Scott train together for the first time since the rescue.
Cyclops was sweating as he left the DR and headed to the control room to review his tapes. The school might not let students run the hardest sims on their own, but he certainly pushed it as high as he could and went until he couldn't anymore. Maybe, if he exhausted himself enough, he could turn off his brain for long enough to sleep tonight.
It was always worth trying at least.
Billy was waiting to take over the DR as Scott stepped out into the corridor. The younger boy regarded him for a moment, then nodded.
"Hey."
"Hey." Scott wasn't quite panting, but his breath was still coming a bit harder than normal. He grabbed his towel and patted his stubbled face and then his neck. "Long time no see."
Not since Billy had found him to drop X-Force anyway.
"Yeah." Billy nodded toward the Danger Room, expression unreadable. "You done for the day?"
"Probably," Scott said wryly. "Running sims?"
"Yeah." Billy shrugged. "Maybe I'll catch you some time when you're not busy."
"I'm not all that busy now," all he had left to do was review his tapes, debrief himself, so Scott figured he'd make the offer. "But it seems like you might be, and I don't want to interrupt."
"I'm just getting here. Come on, then." Billy walked past, then seemed to decide Scott needed an extra hint, and grabbed his shoulder to haul him along.
Scott attempted to control the natural flinch at being touched unexpectedly, the instinct to recoil had only gotten stronger as his memories returned. though Billy was perceptive enough he wasn't sure how successful he'd been. Still, he attempted to gloss over it, "How've you been?"
"Sorry." Billy's hand dropped. "I've been angry. But I'm working on it. Pam's helping." They'd gone out to the desert the day before. Just the two of them, not even with Alex and Goody along. Part of that had just felt wrong, experiencing anything without Goodnight. But then he'd just run. No purpose. No direction. No normal. Just the sand and the wind tugging at him until he was sweating, ready to drop, and so tired he'd felt sick. And it had been a little better.
"Don't worry about it," Scott murmured. Billy hadn't done anything wrong. Scott's flaky shit was his own. He let his mind run over the rest of what Billy had set, prohibiting it from settling back into his own issues. "Angry at what? Or who?"
Scott felt like odds were good Billy was at least partially angry at him. He had every right to be, if he was. Scott had denied him possible emotional satisfaction and manipulated his loyalty and his programming to do so.
The worst part? Scott still wasn't sure he regretted it.
Man, he was a sick fuck.
Billy regarded Scott curiously, head tilted like a cat determining if something was prey or not.
"Do you need to ask?" There was no sarcasm attached to the question either. It was just Billy.
"I can make an educated guess," Scott admitted. "But I don't like assuming."
Assumptions would only set them up for miscommunications and communication with Billy was such a unique situation even usually that the risk was higher.
"You," Billy said. "X-Force. The school. I'm not stupid, Scott. And I'm not going to be used again."
Scott was silent for a long moment, his face inscrutable behind the visor. Finally, he said, "I know you're not stupid. I did what I did to get the mission accomplished with the parameters I was given. I made that call. Not X-Force."
"You think there's such a huge divide between the two? You're the only one." Billy used an interior control panel to call up his targeting program. "It doesn't matter in the big picture. You used the tools you had. You weren't the first. But I can't let it happen again. Not to me or to Goody."
"Not every X-Force field leader would have done what I did." Realizing how that might sound, he raised his hands slightly in a non-threatening gesture. "I'm not trying to keep you in X-Force. You need to do what is right for you. But I made my choices, and it would be dishonest of me to let Ororo or Teddy or Jean be judged by my call."
"I doubt they'd have done differently," Billy said. "And with my powers, my training, I can't count that all of you will trust me. So." He shrugged. "It's done. Do you want to train?"
Scott was fairly confident very few of the others would do what he'd done, but he let that lie for the moment. "Sure. What's the scenario." Turning the reigns over to Billy; his show this time.
"Just targeting and reflexes. They'll get faster, more aggressive the longer the sim goes on."
Scott nodded in understanding and readied himself. This was good, familiar, training with Billy. Even if he was training for something out of the ordinary even by his own skewed standards.
The perimeters of the arena were familiar and simple: a dim ring of light on the floor as the rest of the DR faded into shadow. The first point of red light streaked across the dark; Billy tagged it with a slip of a knife, almost by reflex.
Cyclops' hand rested on the trigger of his visor. "You call it."
Billy frowned. "We've done this before. You don't need me to."
The point had been to give Billy back some measure of the control that had been taken from him, by Cyclops no less, but Scott didn't want to belabor the point. So instead, he fired at the next target that presented itself.
It was clear to anyone who'd observed Scott using his visor in the DR before that something was different. Increased force, lethal if the targets had been living, was evident in the sounds of impact from his beam.
"Okay," he agreed. Billy wasn't wrong; they knew each other well, and if going back to their comfortable pattern was the goal, Scott could do that.
There was no chatter between the two, just the task Billy had set them. The soundless, multi-colored targets began closing in on the border of the arena as the program went on, coming faster and in threes and fours. A streak of gold light got past Billy's guard and grazed his bare arm. He hissed softly at the sting, but tightened up his stance.
Scott powered up his visor another fraction, and let loose a beam that took down four of their silent assailants. He spared a glance for Billy at the other teens quiet hiss of pain, but when Billy immediately corrected himself and continued, Scott decided not to I terrify their flow with chatter.
The next wave of targets was nearly a solid wall. Billy had to release a barrage of knives just to give himself enough room to dodge, but he avoided getting hit again. His concentration had honed itself to laser focus... then a cheery tone, and the lights came up. The exercise was over. Billy pushed back against the urge to drop to his knees.
The abrupt ending made Scott feel like he'd been knocked off balance. He took his hand away from the visor's trigger. "Good round."
"Yeah. Thanks. I don't always get to the last wave before they take me out." Billy gave Scott a nod and headed for the door.
Scott guessed, with that dismissal, that they were done. He felt a pang of disappointment that he rapidly smothered. He'd known this day would come, when someone saw him for the asshole be really was; he wasn't even surprised that it had been Billy who did it. It had only been a matter of time, so Scott knew he had no real right to be upset about it. He'd set up the dominos. He had knocked them down. He'd do it again, he knew, if he needed to.
You reap what you sow, asshole.
Cyclops was sweating as he left the DR and headed to the control room to review his tapes. The school might not let students run the hardest sims on their own, but he certainly pushed it as high as he could and went until he couldn't anymore. Maybe, if he exhausted himself enough, he could turn off his brain for long enough to sleep tonight.
It was always worth trying at least.
Billy was waiting to take over the DR as Scott stepped out into the corridor. The younger boy regarded him for a moment, then nodded.
"Hey."
"Hey." Scott wasn't quite panting, but his breath was still coming a bit harder than normal. He grabbed his towel and patted his stubbled face and then his neck. "Long time no see."
Not since Billy had found him to drop X-Force anyway.
"Yeah." Billy nodded toward the Danger Room, expression unreadable. "You done for the day?"
"Probably," Scott said wryly. "Running sims?"
"Yeah." Billy shrugged. "Maybe I'll catch you some time when you're not busy."
"I'm not all that busy now," all he had left to do was review his tapes, debrief himself, so Scott figured he'd make the offer. "But it seems like you might be, and I don't want to interrupt."
"I'm just getting here. Come on, then." Billy walked past, then seemed to decide Scott needed an extra hint, and grabbed his shoulder to haul him along.
Scott attempted to control the natural flinch at being touched unexpectedly, the instinct to recoil had only gotten stronger as his memories returned. though Billy was perceptive enough he wasn't sure how successful he'd been. Still, he attempted to gloss over it, "How've you been?"
"Sorry." Billy's hand dropped. "I've been angry. But I'm working on it. Pam's helping." They'd gone out to the desert the day before. Just the two of them, not even with Alex and Goody along. Part of that had just felt wrong, experiencing anything without Goodnight. But then he'd just run. No purpose. No direction. No normal. Just the sand and the wind tugging at him until he was sweating, ready to drop, and so tired he'd felt sick. And it had been a little better.
"Don't worry about it," Scott murmured. Billy hadn't done anything wrong. Scott's flaky shit was his own. He let his mind run over the rest of what Billy had set, prohibiting it from settling back into his own issues. "Angry at what? Or who?"
Scott felt like odds were good Billy was at least partially angry at him. He had every right to be, if he was. Scott had denied him possible emotional satisfaction and manipulated his loyalty and his programming to do so.
The worst part? Scott still wasn't sure he regretted it.
Man, he was a sick fuck.
Billy regarded Scott curiously, head tilted like a cat determining if something was prey or not.
"Do you need to ask?" There was no sarcasm attached to the question either. It was just Billy.
"I can make an educated guess," Scott admitted. "But I don't like assuming."
Assumptions would only set them up for miscommunications and communication with Billy was such a unique situation even usually that the risk was higher.
"You," Billy said. "X-Force. The school. I'm not stupid, Scott. And I'm not going to be used again."
Scott was silent for a long moment, his face inscrutable behind the visor. Finally, he said, "I know you're not stupid. I did what I did to get the mission accomplished with the parameters I was given. I made that call. Not X-Force."
"You think there's such a huge divide between the two? You're the only one." Billy used an interior control panel to call up his targeting program. "It doesn't matter in the big picture. You used the tools you had. You weren't the first. But I can't let it happen again. Not to me or to Goody."
"Not every X-Force field leader would have done what I did." Realizing how that might sound, he raised his hands slightly in a non-threatening gesture. "I'm not trying to keep you in X-Force. You need to do what is right for you. But I made my choices, and it would be dishonest of me to let Ororo or Teddy or Jean be judged by my call."
"I doubt they'd have done differently," Billy said. "And with my powers, my training, I can't count that all of you will trust me. So." He shrugged. "It's done. Do you want to train?"
Scott was fairly confident very few of the others would do what he'd done, but he let that lie for the moment. "Sure. What's the scenario." Turning the reigns over to Billy; his show this time.
"Just targeting and reflexes. They'll get faster, more aggressive the longer the sim goes on."
Scott nodded in understanding and readied himself. This was good, familiar, training with Billy. Even if he was training for something out of the ordinary even by his own skewed standards.
The perimeters of the arena were familiar and simple: a dim ring of light on the floor as the rest of the DR faded into shadow. The first point of red light streaked across the dark; Billy tagged it with a slip of a knife, almost by reflex.
Cyclops' hand rested on the trigger of his visor. "You call it."
Billy frowned. "We've done this before. You don't need me to."
The point had been to give Billy back some measure of the control that had been taken from him, by Cyclops no less, but Scott didn't want to belabor the point. So instead, he fired at the next target that presented itself.
It was clear to anyone who'd observed Scott using his visor in the DR before that something was different. Increased force, lethal if the targets had been living, was evident in the sounds of impact from his beam.
"Okay," he agreed. Billy wasn't wrong; they knew each other well, and if going back to their comfortable pattern was the goal, Scott could do that.
There was no chatter between the two, just the task Billy had set them. The soundless, multi-colored targets began closing in on the border of the arena as the program went on, coming faster and in threes and fours. A streak of gold light got past Billy's guard and grazed his bare arm. He hissed softly at the sting, but tightened up his stance.
Scott powered up his visor another fraction, and let loose a beam that took down four of their silent assailants. He spared a glance for Billy at the other teens quiet hiss of pain, but when Billy immediately corrected himself and continued, Scott decided not to I terrify their flow with chatter.
The next wave of targets was nearly a solid wall. Billy had to release a barrage of knives just to give himself enough room to dodge, but he avoided getting hit again. His concentration had honed itself to laser focus... then a cheery tone, and the lights came up. The exercise was over. Billy pushed back against the urge to drop to his knees.
The abrupt ending made Scott feel like he'd been knocked off balance. He took his hand away from the visor's trigger. "Good round."
"Yeah. Thanks. I don't always get to the last wave before they take me out." Billy gave Scott a nod and headed for the door.
Scott guessed, with that dismissal, that they were done. He felt a pang of disappointment that he rapidly smothered. He'd known this day would come, when someone saw him for the asshole be really was; he wasn't even surprised that it had been Billy who did it. It had only been a matter of time, so Scott knew he had no real right to be upset about it. He'd set up the dominos. He had knocked them down. He'd do it again, he knew, if he needed to.
You reap what you sow, asshole.