Simon and Scott | Monday 6/3
Jun. 3rd, 2019 11:40 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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ax_mainSimon finally sits down to talk with Scott about the call with Sinister.
Simon came through the door that morning, a week after the attack on Sinister's lab, and he deposited a tray of food in Scott's lap before moving to check a monitor off to the side. "Hank says we can finally release you, as long as you'll agree to change your bandages daily, and return if you notice anything out of the ordinary."
With the promise of finally being released from his medical detention, some of Scott’s humor (such as it was) seeped in. “I’ll give you the effort to change my bandages.”
The young med student might have found some humor in it, under other circumstances. He moved to gingerly remove Scott's IV line. "I'm sure Jean will handle the rest. In any case, before you go, there is something you and I should discuss, away from the rest of the student body."
Scott considered pointing out that he was legendarily stubborn before internally conceding that Simon was probably right.
Besides, there was something about Tam’s tone...
“Sure. What’s going on, Tam?”
Sighing, Simon took a seat on a stool and pulled it up next to Scott's bedside. "He called me."
Anger fought with dread in Scott’s heart before he managed, with more effort than he’d ever admit, to stuff then into a box for the moment. “After,” that much was clear. “What did he say?”
"The day after," Simon told him. "And he was angry, that much was clear. He...in his own way, threatened the school, our families, our lives, should we not back off. I would have told you immediately, but you were in no shape, and then Genosha came crashing down on us. Fatale portaled me to the island to help one of their injured and I ended up staying for a bit to help the medical staff at the hospital there."
That clusterfuck. Jesus their lives were about to get so much worse.
Which was saying something, since they hadn’t exactly been a breeze before.
Sinister’s anger was expected. His threats were, too. That all fit with the assholes psychological M.O. that Scott was continuing to construct. They couldn’t beat him if they didn’t know him, after all.
“Right. Sounds par for the course.” Scott looked at Simon seriously. “But I’m guessing he didn’t call you just to vent.”
"It was an ultimatum, Scott," Simon met his gaze. "These weren't empty threats. He wanted me to give you a message. If you don't back off, he says it's going to be scorched earth."
Scott was silent and still, his fingers no longer playing with the edge of his IV tape, as he turned over Simon’s report in his mind.
Like he’d told Tam, the threats were unsurprising. Threats were the only medium of exchange that Sinister seemed particularly familiar with. Unsurprising, as the fucker had seemingly left his understanding of humanity in a bag near the road over a hundred years before. The anger was not surprising either. Sinister did not like to lose, or face even the possibility of loss, as far as Scott could tell. Being forced into a retreat by four teenagers undoubtedly rankled.
Lashing out, maybe? In response to perceived threat that gave him more pause than the school had before? It was impossible to know for sure, but it was the only guess Scott had, for now.
“Okay,” he said slowly. Because whatever the mental motivations are for Sinister’s threatened escalation, the danger was real and, more than that, was perceived to be a serious threat by Tam. “So he wants, what, your word that I won’t try to find and kill him again?”
"He said he's not going to contact me again. That he's going to pull back from his experimentation and instead research...other things. I expect he assumes that I will just deliver his message, and if it's not received, he will just begin killing people." Simon breathed, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck. He felt sick even recalling Sinister's threat. He had no doubt that the man might be able to get to River, and what he might do to her terrified him. He was pale would he looked back up at Scott.
Scott looked immediately suspicious. So this wasn’t just stick - the immediate threat against innocent people they cared about - there was carrot, too. A suggestion he would turn away from his mutant trauma factory to something else. Knowing Sinister, it was something just as bad; the carrot was probably laced with arsenic.
If he was trying to buy Simon’s compliance with fear, it was clear that his indirect efforts with Scott were built on more multi-faceted manipulation. He was relying on Scott’s conscience and unwillingness to endanger the Tams, the Greys, Jeanne-Marie, Warren, and the other students. He was counting on Scott’s hesitation to open the school up to a war against a psychopath. And he was giving them a sweetener to make the bitter threat more palatable to acquiesce to.
“Research what other things?” How much arsenic was in the carrot?
Simon visibly hesitated. In fact, even as it looked like he was going to say something, he closed his mouth again and looked up at the monitor beside Scott's bed, thinking of Sinister's words. God, but he couldn't even deny the fact that he'd been thinking about the man's genetic theories over the past week, even when he was helping mutants in Genosha. Perhaps especially then.
Scott felt a cold ball of something he couldn’t define take up residence in his stomach as he watched Simon’s response.
A lot of arsenic in the carrot, then. Or worse, something that might sway the scientifically-minded Simon. “Tam,” he said, voice calm with with an underpinning rod of steel, “what does he want to research?”
Simon took a deep breath, then finally looked back at him. "You. And Jean. He's developed an obsession with the two of you, and the immense power that your bloodlines carry."
Whatever Scott has expected, that had not been it. “He wants to study Jean,” he repeated, as much to himself as to Simon.
God, no. Not Jean.
What had Scott done?
“Why would we ever agree to that?” He wasn’t signing Jean up for torture camp, even if it were his decision, which it was not.
Simon rubbed a hand over his face. "He doesn't plan to ask your permission, Scott. From what I saw of his research, he's been obsessed for a while now with your bloodline and the genetic markers that indicate that mutants of your lineage would be more powerful than others. The fact that he's now witnessed what Jean is capable of...he possibly even took DNA while she was within the facility. He has a belief that a mutant from both lineages could be more powerful than anything we've ever seen, and I can't say I disagree with him.
"Judging by a theoretic classification system I've been playing with on the side, you both might be classified as Alpha level mutants - mutants who present as human, but have powers without true limitation. Jean's power has the potential to hit what I would call Omega level - a mutant who could threaten nations, if not the world. I'm not sure what her limits are, and because of this, I know Sinister has latched on to the same idea. Honestly, I'd classify you at Beta, because of your brain damage and the fact that you must use the visor to direct the beams, but apparently, Sinister sees something more than I do. Because of this, he's latched on to this obsession that your DNA combined could create a mutant of Omega level - someone who might change the world."
Simon leaned forward with his arms on his knees. "That said, I don't think he intends to experiment on either of you directly. At least, not right now. He has something else in mind. I just don't know what."
It was one hit after another, each absorbed with detached stoicism. What other choice did he have? Anger? Distress? Those would help no one and nothing. At least, not right now. Right now all he could deal with was the problem at hand.
“He demands a truce he knows can’t last in order to give himself a head start in whatever battle comes next.” Scott summarized. “Wonderful.”
Nothing about this was right. Nothing. What Sinister wanted. The interest Tam’s digression had tipped. Scott’s reckless exposure of Jean to Sinister’s obsessive inquiries.
It was a pile of shit that just kept getting bigger and higher.
“Guess I need to warn Jean and the Greys to avoid donating blood or doing that 23 and Me shit.” It was too late for the Summers’ side. Sinister had taken enough of Scott’s tissue and blood to satisfy his needs for years to come, no doubt. “And I will need to talk to the Professor.”
Because Sinister was making them an offer. And Scott wasn’t convinced yet that it merited anything other than rejection with extreme prejudice, no matter the tug of his conscience or the fear in Simon Tam’s eyes. But the Professor knew more than they both did, in all likelihood, and after his last rogue action, Scott was disinclined to ignore the Professor’s counsel.
Simon could see how hard Scott was taking it, even through the darkened lenses and the other teen's monumental stoicism. It was because he could see some glimmer of distress in the other teen that he knew how hard it was hitting him. And, frankly, Simon was a little relieved that he wasn't alone in that.
"The Professor knows," Simon told him, quietly and certainly. "I told him, because I plan on telling the rest of X-Force. All of it. My abduction, my involvement in his research. The threat to the school. I didn't exactly want his blessing, but I would like yours. I know this may blow back on me, but I can't keep hiding this association that Sinister has adopted with me. I think they need to know everything that's going on."
Scott set his shoulders, as though bracing for a hit. “What do you plan to tell them?” Because the overview Simon has provided was broad, and while Scott would never tell anyone they couldn’t share their own story of he didn’t have to, being prepared was necessary.
"What happened to me. How you were able to track his phone. The fact that he thinks I...will somehow turn to the darkside and help him with his research. I'll keep the information about you and Jean out of it, and I won't tell anyone that he knows the Professor personally. I'm still not entirely sure how far that history goes, but that's the Professor's secret to keep," Simon told him.
So Simon was only going to tell them about his own part of the convoluted history. The Professor and Scott’s past with the pale menace would be left alone. “Your story is yours to tell, Tam. You don’t need my blessing,” Scott finally said.
“But if you want it, you have it.” And they would let the chips fall where they may.
Simon tilted his head, meeting the reflection of Scott's glasses with his gaze. "And you approve of telling them of Sinister's threat against the school?"
“I’m not excited about it,” Scott said honestly. “But they already know something is going on, and the hard facts will scare some people but so do faceless shadows.”
Simon nodded. "I understand more than most that keeping some people in the dark is better for their own good. But in this case, I feel like X-Force has the right to know what they're protecting the school from."
Scott nodded slowly. “I don’t necessarily disagree. But this will get out beyond X-Force.”
"And if it does?" Simon asked.
Scott gave him the only answer there really was. “Then we’ll deal with it.”
Simon came through the door that morning, a week after the attack on Sinister's lab, and he deposited a tray of food in Scott's lap before moving to check a monitor off to the side. "Hank says we can finally release you, as long as you'll agree to change your bandages daily, and return if you notice anything out of the ordinary."
With the promise of finally being released from his medical detention, some of Scott’s humor (such as it was) seeped in. “I’ll give you the effort to change my bandages.”
The young med student might have found some humor in it, under other circumstances. He moved to gingerly remove Scott's IV line. "I'm sure Jean will handle the rest. In any case, before you go, there is something you and I should discuss, away from the rest of the student body."
Scott considered pointing out that he was legendarily stubborn before internally conceding that Simon was probably right.
Besides, there was something about Tam’s tone...
“Sure. What’s going on, Tam?”
Sighing, Simon took a seat on a stool and pulled it up next to Scott's bedside. "He called me."
Anger fought with dread in Scott’s heart before he managed, with more effort than he’d ever admit, to stuff then into a box for the moment. “After,” that much was clear. “What did he say?”
"The day after," Simon told him. "And he was angry, that much was clear. He...in his own way, threatened the school, our families, our lives, should we not back off. I would have told you immediately, but you were in no shape, and then Genosha came crashing down on us. Fatale portaled me to the island to help one of their injured and I ended up staying for a bit to help the medical staff at the hospital there."
That clusterfuck. Jesus their lives were about to get so much worse.
Which was saying something, since they hadn’t exactly been a breeze before.
Sinister’s anger was expected. His threats were, too. That all fit with the assholes psychological M.O. that Scott was continuing to construct. They couldn’t beat him if they didn’t know him, after all.
“Right. Sounds par for the course.” Scott looked at Simon seriously. “But I’m guessing he didn’t call you just to vent.”
"It was an ultimatum, Scott," Simon met his gaze. "These weren't empty threats. He wanted me to give you a message. If you don't back off, he says it's going to be scorched earth."
Scott was silent and still, his fingers no longer playing with the edge of his IV tape, as he turned over Simon’s report in his mind.
Like he’d told Tam, the threats were unsurprising. Threats were the only medium of exchange that Sinister seemed particularly familiar with. Unsurprising, as the fucker had seemingly left his understanding of humanity in a bag near the road over a hundred years before. The anger was not surprising either. Sinister did not like to lose, or face even the possibility of loss, as far as Scott could tell. Being forced into a retreat by four teenagers undoubtedly rankled.
Lashing out, maybe? In response to perceived threat that gave him more pause than the school had before? It was impossible to know for sure, but it was the only guess Scott had, for now.
“Okay,” he said slowly. Because whatever the mental motivations are for Sinister’s threatened escalation, the danger was real and, more than that, was perceived to be a serious threat by Tam. “So he wants, what, your word that I won’t try to find and kill him again?”
"He said he's not going to contact me again. That he's going to pull back from his experimentation and instead research...other things. I expect he assumes that I will just deliver his message, and if it's not received, he will just begin killing people." Simon breathed, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck. He felt sick even recalling Sinister's threat. He had no doubt that the man might be able to get to River, and what he might do to her terrified him. He was pale would he looked back up at Scott.
Scott looked immediately suspicious. So this wasn’t just stick - the immediate threat against innocent people they cared about - there was carrot, too. A suggestion he would turn away from his mutant trauma factory to something else. Knowing Sinister, it was something just as bad; the carrot was probably laced with arsenic.
If he was trying to buy Simon’s compliance with fear, it was clear that his indirect efforts with Scott were built on more multi-faceted manipulation. He was relying on Scott’s conscience and unwillingness to endanger the Tams, the Greys, Jeanne-Marie, Warren, and the other students. He was counting on Scott’s hesitation to open the school up to a war against a psychopath. And he was giving them a sweetener to make the bitter threat more palatable to acquiesce to.
“Research what other things?” How much arsenic was in the carrot?
Simon visibly hesitated. In fact, even as it looked like he was going to say something, he closed his mouth again and looked up at the monitor beside Scott's bed, thinking of Sinister's words. God, but he couldn't even deny the fact that he'd been thinking about the man's genetic theories over the past week, even when he was helping mutants in Genosha. Perhaps especially then.
Scott felt a cold ball of something he couldn’t define take up residence in his stomach as he watched Simon’s response.
A lot of arsenic in the carrot, then. Or worse, something that might sway the scientifically-minded Simon. “Tam,” he said, voice calm with with an underpinning rod of steel, “what does he want to research?”
Simon took a deep breath, then finally looked back at him. "You. And Jean. He's developed an obsession with the two of you, and the immense power that your bloodlines carry."
Whatever Scott has expected, that had not been it. “He wants to study Jean,” he repeated, as much to himself as to Simon.
God, no. Not Jean.
What had Scott done?
“Why would we ever agree to that?” He wasn’t signing Jean up for torture camp, even if it were his decision, which it was not.
Simon rubbed a hand over his face. "He doesn't plan to ask your permission, Scott. From what I saw of his research, he's been obsessed for a while now with your bloodline and the genetic markers that indicate that mutants of your lineage would be more powerful than others. The fact that he's now witnessed what Jean is capable of...he possibly even took DNA while she was within the facility. He has a belief that a mutant from both lineages could be more powerful than anything we've ever seen, and I can't say I disagree with him.
"Judging by a theoretic classification system I've been playing with on the side, you both might be classified as Alpha level mutants - mutants who present as human, but have powers without true limitation. Jean's power has the potential to hit what I would call Omega level - a mutant who could threaten nations, if not the world. I'm not sure what her limits are, and because of this, I know Sinister has latched on to the same idea. Honestly, I'd classify you at Beta, because of your brain damage and the fact that you must use the visor to direct the beams, but apparently, Sinister sees something more than I do. Because of this, he's latched on to this obsession that your DNA combined could create a mutant of Omega level - someone who might change the world."
Simon leaned forward with his arms on his knees. "That said, I don't think he intends to experiment on either of you directly. At least, not right now. He has something else in mind. I just don't know what."
It was one hit after another, each absorbed with detached stoicism. What other choice did he have? Anger? Distress? Those would help no one and nothing. At least, not right now. Right now all he could deal with was the problem at hand.
“He demands a truce he knows can’t last in order to give himself a head start in whatever battle comes next.” Scott summarized. “Wonderful.”
Nothing about this was right. Nothing. What Sinister wanted. The interest Tam’s digression had tipped. Scott’s reckless exposure of Jean to Sinister’s obsessive inquiries.
It was a pile of shit that just kept getting bigger and higher.
“Guess I need to warn Jean and the Greys to avoid donating blood or doing that 23 and Me shit.” It was too late for the Summers’ side. Sinister had taken enough of Scott’s tissue and blood to satisfy his needs for years to come, no doubt. “And I will need to talk to the Professor.”
Because Sinister was making them an offer. And Scott wasn’t convinced yet that it merited anything other than rejection with extreme prejudice, no matter the tug of his conscience or the fear in Simon Tam’s eyes. But the Professor knew more than they both did, in all likelihood, and after his last rogue action, Scott was disinclined to ignore the Professor’s counsel.
Simon could see how hard Scott was taking it, even through the darkened lenses and the other teen's monumental stoicism. It was because he could see some glimmer of distress in the other teen that he knew how hard it was hitting him. And, frankly, Simon was a little relieved that he wasn't alone in that.
"The Professor knows," Simon told him, quietly and certainly. "I told him, because I plan on telling the rest of X-Force. All of it. My abduction, my involvement in his research. The threat to the school. I didn't exactly want his blessing, but I would like yours. I know this may blow back on me, but I can't keep hiding this association that Sinister has adopted with me. I think they need to know everything that's going on."
Scott set his shoulders, as though bracing for a hit. “What do you plan to tell them?” Because the overview Simon has provided was broad, and while Scott would never tell anyone they couldn’t share their own story of he didn’t have to, being prepared was necessary.
"What happened to me. How you were able to track his phone. The fact that he thinks I...will somehow turn to the darkside and help him with his research. I'll keep the information about you and Jean out of it, and I won't tell anyone that he knows the Professor personally. I'm still not entirely sure how far that history goes, but that's the Professor's secret to keep," Simon told him.
So Simon was only going to tell them about his own part of the convoluted history. The Professor and Scott’s past with the pale menace would be left alone. “Your story is yours to tell, Tam. You don’t need my blessing,” Scott finally said.
“But if you want it, you have it.” And they would let the chips fall where they may.
Simon tilted his head, meeting the reflection of Scott's glasses with his gaze. "And you approve of telling them of Sinister's threat against the school?"
“I’m not excited about it,” Scott said honestly. “But they already know something is going on, and the hard facts will scare some people but so do faceless shadows.”
Simon nodded. "I understand more than most that keeping some people in the dark is better for their own good. But in this case, I feel like X-Force has the right to know what they're protecting the school from."
Scott nodded slowly. “I don’t necessarily disagree. But this will get out beyond X-Force.”
"And if it does?" Simon asked.
Scott gave him the only answer there really was. “Then we’ll deal with it.”
