X-Factor: Walter
X-Men: Movieverse 3 - Sunday, March 22, 2009, 12:56 PM
------------------------------------------------------
It's become something of a routine. Walter sits in his guest room for a few hours after waking, gets bored out of his skull, and makes a circuit of the base. Stern look here, apologetic 'sorry, off limits' there, etc, etc etc. He keeps security on their toes. That, or he just sees if having been here for as long as he is makes classified any less classified. Apparently not. So, now he just paces around outside, seeing if there's another off-limits area that has yet to be defined as such.
Jean is likewise admitted to the base on the sufferance of security, but she, at least, hasn't been limited -only- to the base. Dressed casually rather than recognizable Dr. Jean Grey quiet class, her auburn hair is back in a ponytail, buried under a baseball cap, and paired with jeans and a knit cardigan for the cool of even California early spring. A check-in with security has Walter's wherabouts confirmed, and so it is that a familiar figure is making her way towards him, one hand lifted in a cautious greeting.
It's amazing how much context effects these things. It takes Walter a few moments of confused squinting before recognition dawns and he flashes Jean a huge smile, and an enthusiastic wave as he picks up the pace to get within conversation distance quicker.
Conversation distance brings other revelations: beneath the brim of the baseball cap, Jean's looking as old and tired as ever she's looked, a luggage set of bags encamped around her eyes and a hint of defeat leaking out to pull in her shoulders as if toting too heavy a weight. But her smile is genuinely glad as she looks Walter over, hands clapping to his shoulders to hold him at arm's length for inspection. "If I didn't have your mind to go off of, it would be hard to recognize you," she murmurs. "I'm glad you're safe."
Walter blushes lightly at that. "I'm not that different looking, am I?" he wonders, his eyes dancing over her face in an inspection of his own. "So... things really are bad at the school, huh?" he asks.
"You're still you," Jean assures, and steps back to release him, satisfied with her look-over. "And the school is going through a downturn, thanks to some entirely justifiable fears on the part of parents. It will pull out of it," she assures, the defeat vanishing into the realm of unreadable as she settles into practiced reassurance instead. "Especially since it wasn't -just- young mutants from Xavier's going missing -- the people who grabbed you are good, I can tell that even with the limited information I was given."
"Good shot with tranquilizers, I'll give them that," Walter says, giving a sigh. "If there's anything I can do to help..." he offers, still the same Walter as ever, it seems.
"Well, that depends on what you want to do," Jean answers, moving into an easy walk along the main street rather than stand around in the slowly-strengthening sun. "Obviously, they'll need to finish debriefing you here, and get your documents in order, but if you'd trust us to do it, Xavier's would be glad to get you back into classes -- we could probably accelerate a bit, so that you're not graduating at 21."
Walter follows alongside Jean, considering. "I do miss the school," he admits hesitantly. "How is it there, really?" he asks, attempting to meet Jean's eyes as they stroll along.
"It's as I said," Jean answers, and if there's a hint of crispness to her tone, it's at least short lived. "You've been through the downturns before, after the raid, after the attack from the AU. You know that it's a drain, but that we do get over it and past it... young mutants aren't going to stop manifesting and needing a safe space to learn just because bad things happen," she sums up, and offers a crook of a smile. "The school misses -you-. Madame Vargas has been baffled by the way that food is actually staying in the pantry longer than a day."
Walter laughs at that, smiling. "I can imagine," he says gently. "You... know about this place, right?" he wonders. "What they do?"
"I know some things," Jean answers, likewise gentle, but with the addition of twenty years' maturity to temper it. "But what I know is based in large part off of classified documents. This is a government organization, though," she can and does confirm, "And a few of their members are alumni. As for what they do... well, you'd have had a closer seat to the action than I would have."
Walter looks at Jean. "Tim says he joined up to help rescue me and the others," he says. "They've... well, they've offered me a job," he explains. "I... I don't know what to do."
Jean's eyebrows arch at that, fine and well-groomed beneath the slightly battered baseball cap. "I can't make the decision for you," she answers simply, hands spread. "Although I admit that it's not the sort of life I'd envisioned for you."
Walter sighs heavily. "It... I don't know, it sounds kinda like you guys but..." he looks around the base. "Very, very different."
"You're not likely to get nearly the recovery period between missions that the X-Men get," Jean answers, one hand lifting to tick off points idly on her fingers. "This is a dedicated government force, we're split part time between teaching school and... the other things we do. You're also likely to end up in situations a -lot- more morally grey than we usually deal with. I can't confirm, but it seems likely that you may very well be required to kill people in the line of duty. And you are very idealistic, Walter," she sums up, with a smile that brushes her lips and dodges her eyes. "This is coming from me."
Walter looks down, stopping their little walk for the time being. He takes a deep breath. "I guess I am," he admits. "Course... Tim's even worse than me, and he seems to be managing alright." He looks at Jean. "I only have until tomorrow to make my decision."
"Tim's actually not," is Jean's answer, delivered with a bit of firmness underpinning her tone and a level look in her eyes. "But," she notes, backing away from the topic, "This is not my decision to make. If you think you can handle this, then go for it. If you find that you can't, then my one bit of advice is 'get out'. Don't let it eat your soul."
"So... Anything else going on with you?" Walter wonders, trying to divert the subject.
"Oh, many things, but most of them private," Jean answers, the gentleness back in her tone as the subject diversion is diverted in turn. "Nate got to play a whitetailed deer in his kindergarten pageant, and the contest for posession of The Bike currently has Scott in the lead, after he snuck in and installed an engine immobilizer that Logan hasn't gotten around yet... if I can get the all-clear from base security, I'd like to take the Xavier's alum and students out for dinner, while I'm here."
Walter smiles a little at that. "That could be nice, I'm... getting kinda sick at looking at this place. I mean, I get them not letting us go just anywhere, but they aren't even letting us off the base on our own." He sighs. "Hey, do you think you could pass on the word that I'm okay to Chaotic Alignments? Also, I put some comics on hold for Nate too, DC has this little all ages line they started up not too long ago."
"I'll take care of it," Jean promises, giving a small nod. "And if you do decide this is for you, let me know. I'll handle arrangements of getting your things shipped here."
"Thanks, I appreciate it," he says with a small smile.
"I'll go try and talk to security, then," Jean offers, with a jerk of her chin towards distant posts, although her footsteps are angling for the admin building and higher-ups. "I'll let you know what comes up."
"Alright," Walter says. "Hey, just in case I decide to stay... thanks for taking care of me these last couple years."
"I wish I had a graduation ceremony speech about moving forward into a new world to give you," Jean murmurs, with a pensive smile for him. "But this is a bit out of the blue. Be safe. Keep sane. And good luck," she bids. There is a brief hug, her touch telepath-light, before Dr. Grey turns away to go hunt for base security. She doesn't look back.
Jean can't protect them from everything.