The X-Project

After spending most of the intervening time out cold - sleep deprivation, thy name is Scott Summers - Scott, with everything that happened the previous day at the forefront of his mind, goes to talk to Ororo. The conversation is quiet, low-key, and very productive.


He'd deliberately waited until later in the evening to go looking for Ororo. Well... it wasn't as if he'd had the option to go much earlier in the day, Scott reflected a bit wryly. Not when he'd slept until nearly two. Eighteen hours of sleep, all in all. That really wasn't healthy, whatever kind of emotional upset he'd had yesterday.

Upset. Into the understatement today, I see. Scott reached the top of the steps and smiled a bit as he saw Ororo having what looked like an up-close-and-personal moment with one of her miniature rosebushes. "Are you giving it a pep talk?" he asked quietly, heading in that direction. "Can I have one too?"

"Only if you wish to be threatened with gardening shears," 'Ro said, glancing up as he neared and waving the instrument at him warningly. "I have tried explaining to it what happens to those who try to grow crookedly, but still it will not listen. I think some plants are just more difficult than others."

His smile grew a little. "Imagine that. Plants with a stubborn streak..." Scott trailed off as he reached her, staring down at the little rosebush. "Pretty, though. Crooked or not." He reached out and touched a bloom for a moment, almost pensively. "So," he said, a little more lightly than he really felt, "we need to have a little chat, partner'o'mine."

With one last snip of the shears Ororo finished her ministrations with the bush, nodding with satisfaction at its growth. "Of course, Scott. Would you like to go elsewhere, or walk outside?"

"Here's good. I like it up here," he said, looking around at the plants. "It's quiet, and at least from my perspective the plants are undemanding." He found the closest place to sit down, one of the several benches scattered around the greenhouse, and did, making sure to leave room for Ororo to join him. "You know," he said after a moment, with a soft, helpless laugh, "I don't even know where to start, now."

It hadn't taken her long to notice that something was off – the quiet, almost subdued manner in which he spoke alerting her to the fact that something was amiss. Setting down the shears, she padded over to join him on the bench, looking at him curiously, though not accusingly. "Perhaps you should start wherever it is easiest for you," she suggested gently.

"I think I kind of hit the wall yesterday, finally." Kind of? Scott looked down at his hands. "That girl... the one I was supposed to be picking up. I haven't put the report in the database yet, but she's not here, obviously. It didn't... she'd taken an overdose of sleeping pills, just before we got there."

"Oh, Scott, no." Ororo's face crumpled a bit, her sorrow easy to read even for a non-telepath. "I am sorry, I did not know."

"The doctor was fairly sure she'll make it. He couldn't speak to any complications... they'll know in time, I gather." Scott looked up at Ororo, the sadness in his expression unguarded. "I still... can't shake the idea that I could have been there earlier and this wouldn't have happened. Even after what else happened yesterday..."

"It is not your fault," 'Ro said, shaking her head. "You cannot blame yourself for it, Scott, it is a futile exercise. You know this." They both did, of course, though Ororo herself knew how difficult it was to remember. How could it be otherwise?

"No, I... don't think I do." Scott's voice was very low, and he was looking at his hands again. "I mean, I think I know that on an intellectual level. I don't think I really believe it. And that's just... one part of the problem."

She waited for him to go on, almost afraid of what was going to come next. It was no secret that Scott had not been… coping well for the past while, though 'Ro was the last person on earth who could blame him. She refused to let all the little 'what ifs' enter her mind, instead concentrating on listening and hearing him, both what he was and wasn't saying.

"I need to figure out how to fix this. The whole problem," Scott said, swallowing past the tightness in his throat. "Charles is... he's given me a couple of names, people I could see off-campus. I'm seeing the first this week, to see how it goes. I just..." His voice faltered a little and he looked up again, right at Ororo this time. "It's not that I'm afraid of not being able to hold my share of the load," he said. "It's really not. Not when you strip it right down to the essentials. The problem is I want to, I want to so badly, but I'm... struggling. And I'm so tired." His eye stung suspiciously again, and he focused on the plants. "I think that's part of not knowing how to balance my share of the load properly. No... I don't think, I know. And if I get help with that, maybe I can... maybe it'll feel right again."

Ororo was surprised that it seemed like Scott was actually telling the truth – she had been expecting anything but that. "This is good, Scott," she said, a bit more fervently than she intended. "Not that you are tired and struggling, but that you have found a way to address it. I am glad… I have been worried about you."

"Don't give me too much credit yet. We'll have to see how it goes, with this therapist... female, by the way. Both of them that Charles suggested are." He swallowed and summoned up from somewhere a slightly wry smile. "I suspect he didn't want to see me in the position of trying to please a male authority figure. I wonder why."

"I am sure they will be very effective." After all, anyone could be if Scott would just talk about his problems. Which it seemed like he was, finally. "Scott, I do not want you to take this as an insult, but perhaps it would be helpful if you were to lessen your workload for a while. So that you could concentrate on yourself, which is more important than anything else, no matter what you might think."

"I've been thinking about that, you know," he said somewhat pensively. "It struck me that we've been trying to keep right on working as if there were three of us sharing the load. That might be part of the problem. We've set up routines, structures that take three COs to maintain."

"Yes, that is true. We have not had a chance to restructure things since Alison left," 'Ro agreed with a nod. "It has been too busy. But perhaps we ought to take a look at that, sometime, and see how we can shift things. The schoolwork we cannot change, but the team responsibilities could possibly be shared more…"

"The school's work at least goes through hectic and quiet periods. The team... it's more constant." Scott closed his eyes, a calmer expression slowly settling over his features. "Simplify things," he said. "Or share out some of the minor responsibilities on an even wider scale. I suppose I've been passing on a bad leadership model. Inability to delegate properly."

"It is difficult. If we do everything ourselves, we will know it is done correctly, and on time… mostly, of course. To delegate takes great trust, as well as the ability to burden others and not to feel guilty for it." Ororo sighed, glancing over at Scott. "Things I think we both must work on. It was not so difficult when we started – things were small, and we were familiar with the people we dealt with. Now, though, they are so large, and there are new faces joining… it is obvious we must change with the times. Even if it is difficult to accept."

Scott opened his eyes again. "You're right," he said. "I sometimes wonder if we make proper use of some of the resources we have... some of the more experienced members of the team. Or whether we both maybe shy a little away from that, given that it makes us feel like we're twenty again." He gave her a slight, wry smile.

"If I could avoid that at all, I would," 'Ro said honestly, looking back at Scott. "For so many reasons. There is pride, and guilt, and worry. We know what it does to us, to live like that every day. How can we ask another to take that on?" She glanced away, a worried expression on her face as she let her eyes roam over the plants and flowers gathered around them. It felt strange, saying all this to Scott, because she knew he knew it already. Better than her, perhaps. "But. I think you are right, all the same. Something must change."

"I wonder sometimes if part of the problem is that we don't know precisely who we are. Not you and me," Scott amended, "but the X-Men in general. Look at all the things we do, these days. How do we... switch gears?" He sighed. "How do we go from rescue missions to disaster relief to combat, and make the mental adaptation every time... and where that reflects on us is that we're trying to get them ready for any of those things, at any time. At least police and firefighters and the military know basically what they're training for at any given moment."

"We do it because we must," 'Ro murmured, almost automatically. Their mantra, the unspoken one that nonetheless colored everything they did, every action, every rescue. They wore so many hats, played so many roles, because there was no one else to, and the world needed someone. "Unlike the police and the firefighters, if we were not here, I doubt another group would spring up to take our place. We are larger now than when we began, but sometimes I feel that we will never be large enough. So we do all that because we can, because no one else will, and it must be done."

"And how do we not kill ourselves doing that?" Scott asked bleakly. "That's the problem." He was staring down at his hands, again. "There's a fine line, I think. Between believing, and holding yourself to that belief, and holding yourself to impossible standards and shattering yourself on them. We've got the vices of our virtues."

"And we are old before our time," 'Ro added with a dry chuckle. "Perhaps we should share our responsibilities, if only to add a few years to our lives… years we can enjoy, at that. It is not wrong to be selfish, sometimes, is it?"

Scott rubbed at the back of his neck, smiling a bit weakly. "Is it? Chalk that up as one more thing I'm struggling with." He shrugged a little, almost defensively, and something of the confusion from yesterday surfaced in his expression. "We'll sort it out. I'm not sure I'm up for doing that today, mind you - you know, I slept for eighteen hours after I got back yesterday."

'Ro shook her head, smiling reassuringly. "Of course. I did not mean that we should do it now. You should relieve yourself of whichever duties you wish, first, and we will think about this before we make any decisions. I will not be overwhelmed with a few more hours' work. And I believe I know at least one person who would agree to help."

Scott nodded slowly. "Probably a few, who'd help." His expression was ever so slightly pained as he gazed across the greenhouse. "'Ro, you remember my... lost evening? The telepath I ran into..." He didn't wait for her to reply. It was mostly a rhetorical question, after all. "It was Jean. She told me, last week... that and some other things, about what happened."

Well. That was certainly… surprising. And difficult to respond to. "I see," 'Ro said after a moment, blinking. "You two have been talking, then." That was obvious, but still reassuring. "Are things… all right?"

"I think... I think they will be, eventually." He rubbed at his jaw, reflecting that he hadn't shaved and probably should have. "Do you ever feel like life repeats itself?" he asked, his throat tight again. "It just seems that way sometimes, it really does. And it wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't me just sitting and watching it do it."

"Personally, I have yet to find myself on the streets again… and I hope that I never do," 'Ro said seriously. "But there are some themes that do seem to repeat themselves… my students would be the first to tell you that."

"The people I love... wind up victims." It wasn't just his throat that was tight, his chest was getting into the spirit of things now too. "It keeps happening, and there's not a damned thing I seem to be able to do anytime it does. What does that say about me, that I can never protect the people who are most important to me?"

"That you are a good person for caring about them so," 'Ro replied, her own chest constricting in an unknowing imitation of Scott's. She seldom admitted it, even to herself, but even with all the pain that Scott went through because of his family, and Jean, she was still jealous of him. 'Tis better to have loved and lost. "And that it is their choice to be close to you, as well. It is because you are a good, worthy person that they choose to do so, and you should not blame yourself for that. You should be proud."

"Proud... what a thought." He tried to make it sound flippant, but couldn't quite manage it, and if his eye was suspiciously bright - well, he wasn't looking straight at Ororo. He reached out suddenly, almost impulsively, and laid a hand over hers, squeezing gently. "I want to promise you something," he said hoarsely. "That whatever it takes for me to sort my head out, I won't leave you to carry the weight on your own." Before she could respond (or protest), he shook his head and went on. "I know. I know I've got work to do for my own sake, but the work we do together... it's too important, and it's too important to me to be doing it with you."

'Ro pressed her lips together, swallowing down the lump in her throat. "I am honored that you would say that," she said quietly after a moment, looking over at him. "And there is no one I would rather work with than you. Especially a you that is rested, and well."

There were answers here, to some of the questions he'd thrown at Charles yesterday. He ought to figure that out, pin those answers down. But maybe it was okay to know they ere here. Just for now.

"Well," he said, and the smile came a little more easily, "I'll be working on that. Or not-working. Whatever the occasion calls for."

"Now I think you have it," 'Ro said with an answering smile. "I think you will find there are plenty of diversions around here, if you look hard enough. And no one will begrudge you that. If they do, I will make them very soggy indeed," she said, wiggling the fingers of her free hand at him.