a_different_future | IC/OOC Contact

Clark only raises an eyebrow as he settles against the once-again locked door, arms crossed thoughtfully.

"You know my answer."

Namely, if it was within his power, he'd get it done.

"I know and I'm sorry for counting on that." Just to get that out of the way before he turns around and shows the (scarred because Erskine and his magic) sigil on his back. "That should be fairly shallow. Burn it off."

Clark looks at Scott for a moment and he doesn't actually have to say something. There's a comment there, but not one he's going to make. Scott can just consider what it might have been for his trouble. Instead, he nods, considers the problem after a touch of x-ray vision to discern the depth and the best angle, and pauses only so long as it takes to point to the bed.

Scott had best be laying down. And Clark will give him a fist to bite down while he goes to work, heat vision like a scalpel itself to remove the minimum amount of flesh while still doing what he'd been asked to do.

Scott can, yeah, pretty much read the actual comment into that look, as well as several others. Mostly from his own head, but he can more or less guess which ones Clark would be most likely to think (but not say).

He lies down on the bed. He does not bite down on anything. He doesn't even clench his own fists or jaw, though he does of course tense up and have a physiological response to pain - holds his breath or pants, his heart races, his blood pressure goes up - because it hurts. He mostly just accepts it as a given and lets it.

He doesn't twitch or flinch or cry out or really do anything but lay there and wait it out.

"I told Jean not to let me go home for six weeks. I think I might leave at the end of that."

Once he's down, Clark's hand will settle on the back of his neck and the base of his spine, immovable and implacable. He doesn't like it, knows how touchy Scott is to touch and he's not sure if that's been reestablished given how long it's been since they've really...

Well, really anything.

But he can't have Scott moving while he works. Not if he's going to minimize the damage and ensure that Scott will need as little medical care as possible afterwards. After all, he knows Scott won't get much more than 'minimal' unless forced and he doesn't have it in him to force it.

He could go quick, but he doesn't, because that would just roast his entire back and possibly not solve the problem. Instead, he's slicing off the layers of skin where the marks are, sideways, the scent of charred skin anything but amusing or enjoyable. By the time he's done, it's actually simple enough to lift the remainders off of Scott. And while he will hurt like hell for a time, the burns should be relatively stable when Clark's hands are removed.

"Let me get you water."

He also needs to dispose of the skin. That will get entirely incinerated once he's in the bathroom.

It'll heal. It probably won't get infected. That he didn't burst into actual flames as the result of some magic thing he doesn't and can't understand is a relief of some sort, but honestly the thing being gone at all is, too, regardless of what it did and didn't do. He really doesn't mind the touch, and doesn't react to it.

Once Clark lets go, Scott just rolls to sit up on the edge of the bed.

Yes, it still hurts. No, he still doesn't care. Burns will heal, and will heal relatively well without more than the bare minimum medical care he's prepared to deal with.

He stays sitting on the edge of the bed until Clark gets back - and beyond, actually.

"Thanks."

Clark returns, a bit of ash on one hand and a glass of water in the other.

"Don't put pressure on it, sleep on your stomach, and do your best to apply burn cream. The mark is completely destroyed. Ashes."

Clark is a still violin string of a man at the moment, his voice smooth and uneffected, and that should tell Scott exactly how affected he is. The only indulgence he allows himself is to lean down and press a kiss on the top of Scott's head as he hands off the water. Then he's a couple of feet away, offering the space he assumes the other man wants.

He could find out more, not as much from Scott as he could get from most people, but more, if he was paying attention. He's pointedly not paying attention right now.

He doesn't want space. He doesn't not want space. He doesn't actually care about it either way. He does care that Clark is trying, tense, and clearly not okay.

"That," he says, slowly. "Was an object lesson in misplaced trust and the stupidity of not backing down from a dare. I set myself up for it and I am sorry I had to ask you to clean it up. It... seemed like a better idea than the alternative. I don't know if it actually was, but I'm still sorry you had to deal with it."

He shakes his head.

"I told you ages ago not to apologize for taking care of yourself."

Just a short pause before-

"Whether you're doing it or you're asking me to do it."

The fact that he didn't enjoy slicing through Scott's flesh, the fact that the very idea of hurting him bothers him on such a basic level, is his own problem. He knows the practicality of it. He's no magician but he can make a guess or two. He's seen enough of their nonsense games. He doesn't begrudge either of them their fun (or what passes for fun) most of the time.

"Don't move around too much either. The skin there is fragile; too much movement and it'll crack."

This wasn't fun. It had started that way but the ending had been less than and Scott's actually discovered there are games he's just not fucking playing. He's not angry at anyone but himself and even that is mostly just exhaustion and depression.

And, okay, he's mildly humiliated, but that's just fair all things considered.

"It's probably going to crack. It might also stick to clothes. It won't get infected or kill me and that's assuming something else doesn't reset me first. I'll be fine, Clark."

Clark doesn't answer, can't really answer, because he really has nothing to say. There aren't even things he wishes he could say; if he had them, he'd say them. Instead, there's a great big messy, awkward ball of too much feeling that makes him glad that he'd spent so much time using his heat vision. That meant he was a little drained, that it was harder to activate.

Especially when Scott mentions being 'reset'.

Very glad.

"I should let you rest."

"Up to you." He pushes to stand up, anyway. He doesn't know what to say. He's pretty sure he should be inclined toward apologizing again but it's not like he can figure out what for or that's helping anything. He's already said thanks. He's just - at a loss all around.

But he is actually pretty damned sure by the time he's able to sleep that he'll be more 'fine' than he started. That's something.

Clark considers words again and finally steps closer, into Scott's space without touching him, and meets his eye, looks like he's going to speak.

Then he doesn't. Instead, he looks towards the door.

"Unless you had another idea."

They're certainly not fencing right now.

He has no problem with the closeness, possibly because he's just that fried and possibly just because it's Clark. Probably because it's both.

"You're welcome to stay if you want to stay. I don't have any entertaining plans, but if you want to hang out and chat, lecture at me, or just watch me sleep you can." You're always welcome to stay, Clark.

He glances at the door again before returning his eyes to Scott. Then he tips his chin towards the bed.

"Sleep and I'll watch. We could even talk before that."

Imagine.

After all, he's missed him.

"I'm really glad you said before." Since odds of him going straight to sleep aren't high, but yeah. He can lay back down (not on his back but his stomach) and fold his arms under the pillow. "We haven't done that in a while."

"I know you," he says as he lets Scott find a spot on the bed. He'll just pull a chair over near by and settle in.

"And no, we haven't. I suppose I feel I've been somewhat boring."

"You know me. Boring is good and usually means nothing's falling apart." He really doesn't like being on his stomach, but he's not going to even try for his side yet. Maybe in a bit. Probably tomorrow. "Though it does tend to make conversation hard."

"Only if you're bad at small talk."

He can't help a bit of a grin, though.

"I've...

"There's someone."

And Scott should be able to figure out from some of the context, namely that Clark's never mentioned it in quite that fashion, that this is a little different than anything purely physical.

"I'm bad at small talk." Just in case that had gotten missed in the knowing Scott, but. "Really? Are you going to tell me who?"

"I had no idea."

Flat as a pancake, this one. Because really, Scott.

"And yes, I was intending to. It's less... tenuous, this time.

"Have you met Fives?"

"I'm glad." that it's less tenuous. "We've met and spoken a few times. He seems like a good guy." Which is more than can be said for Scott, ever, but that doesn't mean he's oblivious. "And a good guy for you."

"An interesting observation. We're... just starting things. It's new."

He'd wanted to share it with Scott. Something happy and good.

"You deserve it." Not that this sort of thing is always about deserving it. "And to be happy. What's the interesting observation?"

He actually does the air quotes.

"'Good for me'," he repeats, though he doesn't actually argue it.

permaspam

permaspam

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject