Sandy

[notrosecolored]

Scott said he'd be there with information in five minutes. He was at the door, fully dressed and with his glasses replaced by a visor, in four. It took him that long to grab a cup of coffee and walk to the lounge where Sandy was waiting.

He got his debriefing on the move, and directly into his brain.

He felt better for having been looped in, however perfunctorily.

He walked in, and stayed standing up. Looked the guy over, and wondered why the hell this kid was the recon specialist and then moved on.

"New mutant manifested in Chicago. She's sitting in a jail cell, supposedly for her protection. We're going to get her. How long do you need to pack?"

Comments

[granularity]

Alan just shook his head a little at Warren, clearly letting the words slide off his back, and kept his eye on Scott. He was an old hand at standing at bedsides, for good or ill. And he wanted to know the boy was breathing, his focus on catching any unconscious signs of pain. His color certainly looked better, at least. Now it was Warren looking a little pale.

Alan reached into a pocket and pulled out a candy bar, holding it out to Warren.

"Here. I'll get another one before I go home. I keep it around for emergencies anyway."

Because when one of your best friend's was a speedster, you kept high calorie, high sugar items on hand. There was no telling when you'd get stuck somewhere where he'd need a bit of fuel. And that wasn't even taking into account the number of teenagers and young adults he looked out for.

[armsofan]

Hank excused himself again - he was the doctor, but Scott was in good hands for the practical bits and Hank could analyze that blood sample more, and watch the readouts being sent to monitors back there, through the table itself.

Warren was effectively a giant bird of prey - his entire body was adapted for flight, including his metabolism. Which meant that even without the blood loss, he would have needed food after a fast as hell flight down to the the Mansion. After losing the blood, well, he wasn't going to argue about being given a candy bar from a nice guy who insisted on calling him son.

"Thank you." He was back to being polite as he opened the wrapper. "You should be able to replace it here, and should." They had a lot of kids who ate. Some because they were teenagers, some because their mutations burned extra energy and they needed the calories, some because they'd been starved and needed food security.

On the table Scott was... less unconscious than he had been, in part due to the jolt of pain that came from having his arm set. He was restless, and pretty obviously uncomfortable at least. Trying to shift his position, tightening his jaw here and there, eyebrows drawing down in a mild grimace. Unrestrained, he probably would have wound up curled up in a fetal position but that wasn't possible at the moment and shouldn't be.

"I know why Charles isn't helping him with this, but that doesn't make it any easier to watch." That was for Alan's benefit. Momentary snark aside, he liked the guy and he clearly cared about Scott.

[granularity]

"You're welcome," he said, first and foremost. Because manners.

"Though I can't say it's ever easy to watch good people in pain," Alan said quietly, though for all that he said, he kept watching. After a few moments, he looked up to check on Warren and gave him a faint, warm smile.

"Don't forget to get some water as well."

[armsofan]

"You do realize that I'm well over 18," he said, somewhat dryly. He was at least catching onto the fact that this was just Alan's personality.

It was odd, but it came from a good place and Warren could work with that.

"My blood works on me, too. My blood volume will be back to normal before Scott's awake." He paused to eat more of the candy bar, then asked. "Are you intending to stay with him until he is?"

[granularity]

"I'm a little creaky but I'm not blind quite yet," he answered with a quick little smile. Yes, he'd noticed. That changed very little.

He let out a sigh at the real question, though, glancing down at Scott.

"I was planning on it, to be honest. No where else I've got to be at the moment, so unless I get an emergency signal from home, I'm doing what I can to help."

He pointed at one of the loops holding Scott to the bed.

"Wouldn't do to let him wake up and wrench something, after all."

He was concerned about Sand but when it came to that, he wasn't sure what he could do. Sand was... well, he was much like his mentor: something of an enigma who kept his cards very close to his chest. He hadn't always been that way, but Alan supposed it had something to do with the weight of his visions, something the nightmares did.

He'd asked Wesley about it once, what they were like, what made them so terrible. After all, they saw horrible things often enough, unfortunately. What was it that made him look so haunted?

I don't just see the crimes, Alan. I connect with the minds of the criminals, see into the pits of their souls so I know them. So I can find them. It's important work... but I wouldn't wish it on anyone.

It was something he wondered about sometimes, if Wes knew that at his death, his visions would be passed on. He didn't think so, most of the time. Especially when he saw Sandy at his worst, strung out, awake for over a week or more...

When he saw that, he couldn't imagine Wesley knowingly doing that to Sand. He'd spent most of his life trying to cure the boy, considered him his son the same way he'd considered Dian his 'wife' even if they'd never formalized it, and he'd never forgiven himself for what had happened in that lab all those years ago. Wesley hadn't been perfect, none of them were perfect for goodness sake, but of all of them, he'd never been needlessly cruel. No, he had a feeling Mordru or not, Wes would have tried harder had he known what it would do to his golden boy.

Thoughts still swirling on the issue of Sand, on this strange and very possibly brilliant plan from Michael, he tilted his head.

"Just let me know if you need me to do anything. I don't want to take up space in your medical bay as a nuisance."

[armsofan]

Warren shook his head, minutely, and rose from his chair. "No." He didn't need anything, and Alan wasn't a nuisance. He stretched his body out, though his wings stayed folded tight in deference to the relatively tight quarters.

"If you're willing to stay with him, I'll take those files to the Professor. He isn't down far now, and he'll... have an easier time of it, if I'm not here the moment he opens his eyes." Which was to say Scott wouldn't immediately try and slam up the facade. Part of the reason Hank was giving Scott more space. "Make sure you're ready to hand him his visor when he comes around."

Staying blind was not Scott's favorite thing.

Warren turned to go and said, "Thank you."

Scott was in good hands. So, actually, was Sand.

[granularity]

Alan nodded and gave Warren a hopeful little smile, trying his best to convey the feeling that everything would be all right in time.

"I'll make sure to hand it to him. Thank you for running the files over."