2012-02-28: Something Must Be Done


Quenton_icon.jpg Shane_icon.jpg

Summary: After learning of Jill's capture, Quenton calls a student meeting. Only Shane shows, but much is discussed regardless.

Date: February 28, 2012

Log Title: Something Must Be Done

Rating: PG-13

Xavier Mansion — Quad

// There is a square side walk of pavement with a nice grassy area in the middle with a few stone benches and trees along the corners. The pavement leads to the paths to the grounds of the school, the Dining Hall in Xavier's and the Ramsey Dormitories. It's not particularly large but it's a nice place for students and teachers to relax and enjoy the outdoors. //

Quenton had called a gathering out in the Quad to everyone he knew, oddly enough. Not many came, of course. The big ball of rage is widely unpopular, and the fact that he's been in the infirmary with his sister Zoey for long periods of time didn't help his social life at all. But the attack and him being unavailable to help defend the school put a bad taste in his mouth. And so, arms crossed over his chest, he waited, leaning against a wall.

Regardless of who else comes, Shane ensures that she has the time free to answer. Pushing open the door to the dorms, she clomps heavily down the stairs, forest-green hair swinging before her eyes. "Sup, Q," she says, once she closes enough to lean against the wall next to him. "Sister okay?"

"Hey, beautiful," Quenton murmurs over, glancing first to Shane's hair. Green. Green is good. Then, he hasn't seen a color he hasn't liked on her yet. Stupid sappy romance is beat down by the want for action. "She's alright. My parents are still missing, but she's fine." He lifts a thumb to draw over his nose once. "Jill and others got taken," he says quietly.

"Yeah," Shane murmurs, leaning against his shoulder. "Heard. Ahmed's still in Medical, I think. Say a huge-ass wolf almost bit his throat out. Nick's pretty messed up too."

His arm lifts at first, to wrap around her, but thinking better of it, it just drops while she leans against him. "Shame. They could be good help," he grunts, looking off in the distance. Silent for a while, he then whispers, more quietly, "We need to get them back."

Shane grunts, closing her eyes and leaning her head against his shoulder. "…Where are they, d'you know?"

Quenton shakes his head now, grunting as he brings his eyes to the sky. "No. Which is why we'll need to… I don't know. Do we have any telepathic students that are in the school? Or maybe we can find Theo and he can try to track their cell phone signal. I'm sure the staff has thought of that. I don't know. It's taking a long time to find my family. The dude who kidnapped my sister was a vampire. Maybe this is related somehow."

"Mebbe," Shane murmurs looking down at her armored feet. Drawing in a long, slow breath, she attempts to ease the tension in her shoulders, failing rather miserably. "Q… Iunno 'bout this. Got enough problems, findin' y'family. What if it ain't related, 'n y'get y'self hurt anyway? ….. Mebbe I'm just bein' stupid, Iunno… just… kinda scared. ….More'n usual."

"They're not letting me try to find my family," Quenton mutters, irritably as he glance down at Shane's feet, following her gaze. "Besides. I'm tough. I can take a punch better then most people, even at this school." He glances over to her a moment, before he says, quietly, "The vampire guy killed my brother. If this helps me find my family, I'm in it for the long haul. But you don't have to come with me. I don't want my stupidity getting you hurt."

"Yeah but *where,*" Shane says, shoving one hand into a pants pocket. "Where y'gonna go? Jus' fly 'round 'till y'see blue? Stop off Avengers place 'n go 'hey, anyone see a shitload o' monsters that need a punch?' Q… Scary enough that y'plannin' on runnin' out 'n gettin' hurt, maybe killed. Tryin' not t'think 'bout that." Finally, she turns her eyes up, and deep within her haze is a tired, haunting fear. "…..Sorry….. 'M stupid. I know. Just…." And here she falls silent, unable to find the words that match what's running around her mind.

"I told you," Quenton grunts. "I ask Theo for help. Make him try to trace their phone signals. Maybe he can build a machine more capable then something the teachers have." He glances down at her eyes, and then he sees the fear. This makes his form go rigid and tense, and he releases a breath, shaking his head. "No. No, you're not stupid. You're worried. But what are we supposed to do? Wait and see like always?"

"I don't *know,*" Shane says, free hand curling into a fist, and seems half an inch away from a stomping tantrum. "Last time it was me, 'n it was hell. Wouldn't wish that shit on anyone. Time before, I got smacked by it, ended up havin' t'detox by m'self. Mebbe it's cos y'used t'be a hero or whatever. All I c'n think is… 'Glad it ain't me.'" The strength seems to run out of her at this admission, and she slumps against the taller mutant. "I know… prolly th'most horrible thing I could think. …Don't mean it ain't true. Y'ask me? Should just sit back 'n both be glad we're outta this shit. … …But you ain't me. So… I don't know, Q," she says, voice softening. "…But what if th'phones dead-end? What then?"

"I was a kid fucking around," Quenton grunts, now, shaking his head. "And the reason I want to save them is because of selfish reasons. It mighht have something to do with the people who kidnapped my family." His red eyes lift to Shane now, before he wraps his arms around her, but doesn't make actual effort to touch her. Just so that she could, if she so pleased, pull his arms closer to herself. "Then we try to have a telepathic student read a teacher's mind, any teacher. See what they know."

Shane turns, pressing her back against his chest, pulling his arms down around her shoulders. For a moment, she simply stands there, squeezing Quenton tightly, knuckles white and hands shaking ever so slightly. "….Got an answer for everything, don'cha," she mutters, then manages something that could be mistaken for a laugh, in poor light. "…Promise me somethin'?"

"What's that?" Quenton wonders, while he brushes his cheek against the top of her head, carefully. "And I don't know if we have any telepaths in the student body. I'm just… sick of staying while people are dying when I could be out there, fighting." He furrows his brow now.

"I know… hate m'self f'r bein' happy it ain't me, but… that's jus' me, I guess…" Closing her eyes, she presses her head back. "…Promise me. 'F you don't figure anythin' out… go as Ms. Frost f'help. That way… I don't gotta tattle on ya, 'f you jus' run out on y'own."

"I know… hate m'self f'r bein' happy it ain't me, but… that's jus' me, I guess…" Closing her eyes, she presses her head back. "…Promise me. 'F you don't figure anythin' out… go as Ms. Frost f'help. That way… I don't gotta tattle on ya, 'f you jus' run out on y'own."

"If I do that," Quenton murmurs, furrowing his brow at his girlfriend's words, "she'll just tell us to let her and the staff handle it and I go back to waiting and seeing. Why do you want me to promise this, of all things?"

"Cos if you ask t'help, 'n tell'r you wanna do *somethin',* then when they *do* get found, probably she'll remember an' talk t'you." Shane falls silent, for a moment, looking away. "…'N if you jus' go… you prolly won't be comin' back. So… yeah. Selfish."

"I'll come back," Quenton murmurs uncertainly. He sighs quietly. "And what if she decides not to let me help?" He is silent for a long time, before agreeing quietly, "If I can't track them down without her help, I'll ask her."

"Thanks," Shane says, letting out a breath. "Look…. just… I ain't never had a friend didn't hurt me, right? Well… never had a friend get killed on me. ….Never had a *boyfriend* till you, either. …. …..Just…. don't want you t'be *both* of those firsts, y'know?"

"I'll do everything… not to hurt you. I try to be careful," Quenton says quietly, wetting his lips briefly now. "And I… I'll be careful now, here, too," he replies, exhaling sharply as he rubs the side of his face.

Shane reaches back, resting a hand on Quenton's other cheek. "Hey," she says softly. "Think 'bout this… You promised. 'N for the first time since like ever? Promise *means* somethin' t'me. 'N that's cos o' you, Q… Thanks."

Quenton leans his face against Shane's hand now, releasing a breath, before closing his red eyes now. "I'll… I'll keep it," he promises. "I promise." Promising to keep a promise. That's irony.

Shane's lips twitch upward. "Easy," she mutters finding a chuckle from somewhere amid the tension. "One thing atta time, right? 'N if your do find'm, and they're close? …Lemme know. Probably feel better if I've punched the shit outta somethin'."

Quenton nods slightly, before tilting his head, grunting now, as he watches the girl that is loosely in his arms. "You should let me to most of the punching," he grunts, before adding, more gently, "I won't stop you if you want to come, once I come tell you."

"Probably," Shane says, loosing a soft sigh. "Q… Sorry 'f I'm bein' a pain… Seriously. Just… don't like it, is all… *Hate* this supervillain disaster shit."

"Probably," Quenton echoes, before furrowing his brow, and then shaking his head, pressing his lips gently to Shane's forehead, though even that gentle kiss feels just a little forceful. "Don't be sorry. It's… I don't ever want you in danger, either."

Shane's head is pushed back, and very briefly, annoyance flickers across her face — banished, when she passes reflex and remembers that the push isn't Quention's fault, per se. "…Neither do I," Shane replies, returning her head to his chest. "….But 's like I was tellin' Ms. Frost yesterday; bein' in danger, shit jus' makes more sense. Punch th'problem 'till it goes away."

"Sorry," Quenton grunts, with the flicker of annoyance, glancing away, steam rising from his shoulders now. He clears his throat, before bowing his head now. "You and her talk alot, huh?" he mutters, quietly, watching Shane, wetting his lips needlessly.

"S'fine, s'fine," Shane answers, shaking her head as though to wave the apology away. "….Not really. Jus' she sorta laid a trap f'me yesterday, 'n she asked me a few things. …. …Then gave me a project. S'all.

"Laid a trap for you?" Quenton murmurs, furrowing his brow as he watches Shane quietly, tilting his head. "What do you mean? And what's the project?" he asks, though he then adds, "You don't have to answer any of those."

Shane shakes her head briefly. "Naw, s'fine. Just, she was doin' I guess inventory on games in th' Rec Room, 'r whatever. Got me t'talk t'her. So ended up talkin' 'bout me… 'N how she wanted me t'have a project maybe I'd like. So…" Here, the green-haired girl shrugs, self-conscious and showing it. "…Asked me t'make 'er a dress, by end o' March, f' charity thing."

"Rec Room," Quenton murmurs, then lifts a hand to rub the side of his face, before tilting his head. "Was this before or after the girls got taken?" he then wonders down to Shane, voice pensive.

"…Yesterday," Shane repeats, eyebrow rising. "Knows th'kids're gone. Wanted t'take time out t'see t'me is all, I guess." Lifting a shoulder, she lets out a sigh, leaning back into Quenton. "Was nice, really. People don't normally bother with me. Din't 'spect it."

"Yesterday," Quenton repeats, blinking a few times. "You said that. Right. Huh." He glance down at the girl in his arms again, before tilting his head, hands trembling lightly now. "I uh… I'm glad she did that. I'm sorry I've been distant lately."

"Don't worry 'bout it," Shane murmurs, shrugging. "Y'got bigger things t'worry 'bout, right? Seriously, don't worry 'bout it. Just… y'know… hope your sister's all right soon."

Quenton nods his head slightly, before just digging into his cheek. "You're the best thing to happen to me since I came to this school. Since I got my powers, even. I just… I don't know. I gotta do what I gotta do," he laments.

Shane shakes her head. "*Seriously,* don't worry about it, Q. An' lemme know 'f I can help, 'kay? I mean it… this's th' kinda thing I'd be kinda a shitty girlfriend f'not carin' about y'know?"

"You're not a shitty girlfriend," Quenton says loyally. "You're not. I've been distant. I'm sorry," he murmurs, quietly, while lifting his crimson eyes to the sky once to peer at it. "We'll be alright."

Shane turns, wrapping her arms around Quenton's waist and squeezing tightly. "It's okay," she says, with feeling. "Just… sorry 'bout your brother, Q… really."

Quenton blinks at that, now, before dropping his eyes to Shane, then closing his eyes, releasing a breath. "It got me thinking about death a lot," he admits to Shane, now, glancing over her face. "I mean, we're all gonna die eventually, and that scares me, because I'm not sure there's an afterlife."

Shane looks up, resting her chin on Quenton's chest, and merely nods, signaling the boy to go on. Her problems, whatever they may be, clearly set aside for now; this is much bigger and much more urgent.
"It's all I got," Quenton murmurs, pressing his lips now, shaking his head. "I'd offer you more, but that's all I got," he grunts, while he rubs the sde of his face, watching Shane with his odd red eyes.

There are advantages to having a boyfriend with superstrength, that sometimes offset the drawbacks; in this case, the ability for Shane to hook her arms around his neck, pull herself up, and place a gentle kiss on his lips. "It's scary, yeah… Don't think I c'n believe that, though. I mean, you got a computer made 'a alien stuff, like th'one downstairs I blew up. So there's aliens. 'N magic. Why th'hell shouldn't there be an afterlife, too, right?"

"And what if that afterlife doesn't last forever?" wonders Quenton, worriedly, though he relaxes at the kiss. It's not an often occurence, and he seems to be much more considerably calm. "And how do we get to be a part of it?"

Shane shrugs, adjusting her grip and resting her head against his neck. "Dunno… 'n honestly? Too much t'think about *here,* t'worry much 'bout over there. But I don't think your brother's havin' any problems, Q… Y'got y'parents t'worry 'bout more."

"I do," agrees Quenton. "The reason I live is for my family and friends. We'll be alright," he murmurs, while he tilts his head up now. "You alright?" he then asks uietly, glancing down at Shane's face.

"No," Shane says with a small chuckle. "But that ain't new. …Better than usual though. So there's that." Tilting her head, she looks up at him. "…You?"

"What's wrong?" wonders Quenton, interrogating now, arms about Shane's shoulders, watching her with red eyes. "And I'm… coping. I need to…" No. Maybe he shouldn't tell her the second reason he wants to save the other girls. Maybe she shouldn't know about the urge to kill.

Shane shrugs faintly, arms tense but not shaking yet. "Usual. What's gonna happen when I walk out m'room. Who's talkin' 'bout me. Who's laughing at me b'hind m'back. Did someone spit inna leftovers in th'fridge, just in case I'd wanna eat'm. Someone gonna be sendin' monsters after *me* t'take me away? 'M never okay, Q. That's th'kinda shit that's in my head, *all th' time.* I want anythin' better, usually gotta fight for it. …Ain't really been worth fightin', til lately. …. …What'd you need, though? Y'didn't say."

"I need to hurt something. I don't mean an illusion like in the Danger Room. I need…. I need to hurt something," Quenton murmurs, quietly, closing his eyes tightly again. He lets out another breath, then, opening them, grunting. "I need to hurt something that I can feel right hurting. Sate the rage without becoming the monster I was before."

Shane raises an eyebrow, nodding toward the woods near the edge of the property. "Y'go out there, y'find a couple craters I left, prolly. Mebbe punch down a tree'r two?"

"I want to hurt something. Cause pain. Not destruction," Quenton murmurs quietly. "I'm… it's different. I mean. Maybe I could try. There's no harm in trying," he murmurs, brow furrowed deeply as he glances over himself a moment, then up at Shane. "Sorry."

Shane blinks, brow furrowing. "…Yeah… kinda figured, b'fore. Why d'you think I popped you one in the back, 'member? Told you… Punch you if I thought you needed it. Wouldn't even hafta think 'bout that, you were anyone else. Don't be sorry. Told you. 'M trustin' you, just bein' your girlfriend, right?"

"Maybe I'll need it soon," admits Quenton, giving a nod while he glances over to the door with those red eyes. "I don't know. We'll see. Theo's in the medbay, yeah? I'll have to see him, soon, try out the cell phone thing." He glances back. "Not now, though."

Shane nods, once. "Yeah. Not now." Pulling herself back up for another kiss, she lowers herself back to the ground, absently flexing her arms to relieve the tension. "Prolly now y'wanna check th'forest, see if th'trees work. 'F not? Talk t' that Logan guy 'bout gettin' your mad out. He prolly knows what's up."

Kisses make the tall mutant's heart skip like a schoolgirl. Happiness. She's his smile. He does smile at her, too, a goofy little smile, and Quenton wets his lipps. "Yeah. At least one thing's for certain. I'll never be as bad as him, right?"

Shane's lips turn up at the corners. "…Yeah. 'N he manages t'do all right, even still. Prolly got a thing'r two t'say, 'f that's true."

"Besides, I can't be self-loathing or fearing if I have other people to worry about, yeah?" Quenton wonders, nodding his head, while he lifts his red eyes to the girl's green hair a moment.

"That too," Shane says, arching a green eyebrow. "…But y'probably don't wanna be doin' that alla time, 'specially 'f your power gets ahold of that, 'n starts blowing it off kilter. People're real safe locked inna closet, after all."

"I don't know," Quenton mutters back in reply, while he lifts a hand to dig at his cheek at a moment. "I'll worry about myself, sure," he replies. "I just find it easier and less distracting to worry about everyone else."

Shane reaches up, curling her fingers about the hand that digs into Quenton's cheek. "Aight," she says, her sullen voice much more gentle than it would be when speaking to anyone else. "I ain't gonna argue, 'f it works. Just… remember," she says, lips twisting into a small, wan smirk. "I'm th' girl 'f you asked 'What's the worst that could happen?' could come up with half a dozen answers off th'top 'a my head, 'n then start fretting 'bout the worst of 'em. Workin' on that. Hard, though."

"I guess you're right," Quenton agrees now, furrowing his brow, hand stopping at his face when Shane's fingers curl around it. He lets his hand slowly lower, now, her smirt causing him to give her a reassuring smile. "Hey. You're awesome, yeah? For a girl who frets and shit, you stood up to someone like me, and that took some… uh, you know. Cajones."

Shane chuckles quietly, shaking her head and resting it against his chest. "Can't argue that," she murmurs. "Hey… how 'bout we go in, watch a little somethin' 'fore bed? Dunno 'bout you, but, I'm pretty cold out…"

"Yeah. Sure. Distract ourselves," agrees Quenton, nodding now, clearing his throat, wetting his lips needlessly. "It's a date," he murmurs familiarly, perhaps cheesy, but he can't help but grin boyishly at himself.

Shane shakes her head, a real chuckle trickling from her throat, and wraps her arm around his waist. "See? You're cute. Good thing I like cute. C'mon, Q… I'll get th'popcorn."

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