The X-Project

After receiving his invitation to join the X-Men, Shiro admits some personal concerns to Scott and seeks advice. My, how our boy has grown up.


Shiro found it hard to smile. Not that he was usually walked around with upturned lips anyway, but he felt like he should be now. He was an X-Man. Over a year of intensive psychological and physical preparation, and now he could reclaim the mantle of Sunfire and use his gifts to save the world. Especially with the recent news from home, this duty was ever more important to him.

But he was troubled. He knew he deserved this, he knew that it would be a lot of work and a tremendous responsibility but he could do it. What bothered him was the condition on which he'd been invited to join the team. So before he officially turned in those awful grey leathers for the not-much-better black set, he needed to talk.

"Mister Summers?" he called, knocking on the door to Scott's office and waiting patiently for a reply.

"Come in," was the response. Shiro opened the door to see Scott standing over by the filing cabinets, rifling through the contents of one of the drawers. "Shiro," Scott said with a nod, his gaze still on the files. "What can I do for you?"

"Do you have a few minutes?" Shiro asked as the door shut behind him. "I need to discuss something of some import with you, if you are not busy."

Scott looked up, assessing Shiro's body language and expression. Definitely troubled by something. He waved a hand at the chair on the other side of the desk, then went over and sat down himself. "I have as much time as you need," he said, as lightly as he could.

"Thank you." Shiro waited until Scott was seated before pulling his chair out himself, finding himself automatically establishing a hierarchy. He'd been spending too much time thinking about home. "I . . . I cannot stop thinking about yesterday."

Scott frowned a little. "About what, precisely? It went very well, from everything I heard at the debriefing..."

Shiro shook his head. "That is not what concerns me. The young man - boy - against whom Terry, Paige, and I faced . . ." How do you explain that you feel guilty about beating up a violent criminal? A child, Shiro reminded himself. Maybe with the body of a grown man, but with the mentality of someone Leyu's age. "Did we use adequate force?" Translation: did we overdo it?

Scott's eyes widened slightly. "Oh," he said, understanding. The understanding almost made him smile. If he had doubted that Shiro was ready for the X-Men, the fact that he was so obviously deeply concerned with questions of what was and wasn't excessive force would have been the last piece of proof he'd needed. "Well. Let me turn that around on you - do you think you used adequate force?"

"That is a trick question," Shiro replied, biting his lip as he considered. "On the one hand, it was like battling Colossus. It took much more than just a plasma blast or two to incapacitate him. And he was not prepared to listen to us and lay down his arms. And if we had not taken him down so quickly, then we would have still been concerned with him while his 'mother' tried to escape."

Looking down at his entwined fingers, he noticed steam rising, and fought to hold in his guilt. "But that does not mitigate the fact that he was little more than a little boy in a big boy's body. He ultimately had no chance against us."

Scott thought very carefully about his next words. It was harder than it should have been, but he was tired. Then again, this was extremely important, and he needed to make sure he said the right thing.

"There are two things you have to balance, in situations like this," he said finally, almost gently. "Tactical concerns, and personal concerns. I don't mean personal in the usual sense. We're not military, remember, despite the fact that some of our missions look very much like we are. We're closest to... a combination of various emergency services, I think. We're out there to save lives and help people."

"Including the lives of our enemies," Shiro declared. "This was an abused child, someone who can be rehabilitated. Yes, our primary concern was the kidnapped children, but they were well taken care of. And I . . . I punched him when he was down in the mud!"

Scott gave him a long, thoughtful look. "Shiro, have you reviewed the file on the Youra mission?"

"Only what I was permitted to read as a trainee." Though he knew where this was going. "I do not know how comparable these situations are. You had a whole army to face at Youra, but we outnumbered the kid three to one, not even considering our training."

"They're not anywhere near comparable, no, despite the basic similarity. But it's still there, even so. And Youra - and last night - won't be the only time we find ourselves facing opponents we have to fight and would prefer not to. Every situation's going to be different," Scott said, his voice calm, reassuring. "We're going to have to tailor responses to each. It's not easy, and there will be times that we overstep. In your case, though," he said, smiling a bit, "even if you decide that you did, and I'm not sure you did, there was no lasting harm done."

"He is at Muir now, yes?" If any place could remedy the damage, both physical and mental, then Muir was it. "Hmm. How do you cope with post-mission guilt?"

Scott's lips twitched, the smile a little flat. "One attack of guilt at a time," he said with as much honesty as he thought Shiro could handle. "Each situation is different. You have to try and sort it out in your own mind and move on. If you can't, you start being unable to do the job."

Shiro nodded slowly, letting Scott's advice settle. "All this gray area is enough to drive anyone insane," he quipped. "Thank you. I . . . well, I feel more at ease now." Which was something.

"Shiro, no matter what it is or what's happened, one of the few guaranteed ways to help yourself sort things out is to do precisely what you're doing. Talk to me, or Ororo, or hell, any of your teammates. The outside perspective is invaluable." Scott hesitated, then smiled again, faintly, but more naturally. "And you're welcome."

Shiro found himself mirroring Scott's smile now. "So, when do I get fitted for my new uniform?"