[Yeah, he sort of suspected it was gonna go like this. Mr. Captain X-Man doesn't like making things easy. And he likes to think he's the only one hurt by bad shit that happens around him.
He cannot give shit to Nate's dad. He cannot. Not right now.
So he's gonna repeat it like a mantra in his head to the beat of Stayin' Alive, if only to keep himself sane.]
I've looked everywhere. I asked Charles. And I didn't fucking need to, Scott. I didn't need to look for him, 'cause I felt it. Like he tore a part of me out and took it with him. [He's staring at the floor where his boot is digging into it hard enough he could crack it, if he wanted. He wants to. He still wants to destroy something, anything, everything, knowing it won't make anything better, but it will make him feel worse. And sometimes, that's a pleasure of it's own. Feeling as sick as he should.] He's gone. And I know he'd want me to tell you.
[He stops, pulls his body back together. Wade pulls out something in a bag he'd tossed carelessly on the couch, wrapped up in a (relatively) clean shirt. He holds it out, cooling off. Forcing himself to cool off.
It's definitely a gun. A large hand cannon of a gun, customized down to the sight, the barrels. Completely undecorated, as was Cable's way, utilitarian to a fault. It's like the personified version of him. He left behind a lot, but Wade made sure to pick one that really... felt like him.] He made it. I figured you might want something of his.
[ To be fair, Scott already knows Cable's gone even before his disbelief overwhelms him in waves of sorrow. He can deny it all he wants and think this is all some elaborate joke to get a rise from him, but the truth is as plain as day. Logic and emotion seem to be waging war against each other here, and Scott's determined to let the former win.
But when Wade gives him a gun wrapped in cloth, his lip quivers, a bit shaken. For a split second, his wall falters and the father he never got to be for Cable resurfaces.
He takes it, though, with careful hands, and a kind of poignancy he has never felt before surges within his chest. ]
I do. [ Want something of Cable's. He unwraps the gun and just stares at it, letting his fingers graze its shell as if it's touching the skin of his son.
When Scott finds his words again, his voice is a little choked up. ] I never even got to really know him.
[ The words are laced with palpable sadness but also a kind of yearning unique to a father who lost his child. It's weird, come to think of it, to mourn the loss of a fifty year old man who just one day knocked on your door to introduce himself as your son, but. It's real and it doesn't make Cable any less of a Summers.
For a moment, Scott's lost in his own grief that he just. Stares at the gun before him. Maybe if he looks hard enough, he'd see Cable again. Nathan. He'd see his little boy beneath the exterior of a grumpy old man.
After what seemed like too long, he murmurs: ]
But thanks. [ And looks up at Wade, lips curved up. ] If you wanna talk about him with someone, I'm here. I want to always remember him.
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He cannot give shit to Nate's dad. He cannot. Not right now.
So he's gonna repeat it like a mantra in his head to the beat of Stayin' Alive, if only to keep himself sane.]
I've looked everywhere. I asked Charles. And I didn't fucking need to, Scott. I didn't need to look for him, 'cause I felt it. Like he tore a part of me out and took it with him. [He's staring at the floor where his boot is digging into it hard enough he could crack it, if he wanted. He wants to. He still wants to destroy something, anything, everything, knowing it won't make anything better, but it will make him feel worse. And sometimes, that's a pleasure of it's own. Feeling as sick as he should.] He's gone. And I know he'd want me to tell you.
[He stops, pulls his body back together. Wade pulls out something in a bag he'd tossed carelessly on the couch, wrapped up in a (relatively) clean shirt. He holds it out, cooling off. Forcing himself to cool off.
It's definitely a gun. A large hand cannon of a gun, customized down to the sight, the barrels. Completely undecorated, as was Cable's way, utilitarian to a fault. It's like the personified version of him. He left behind a lot, but Wade made sure to pick one that really... felt like him.] He made it. I figured you might want something of his.
no subject
But when Wade gives him a gun wrapped in cloth, his lip quivers, a bit shaken. For a split second, his wall falters and the father he never got to be for Cable resurfaces.
He takes it, though, with careful hands, and a kind of poignancy he has never felt before surges within his chest. ]
I do. [ Want something of Cable's. He unwraps the gun and just stares at it, letting his fingers graze its shell as if it's touching the skin of his son.
When Scott finds his words again, his voice is a little choked up. ] I never even got to really know him.
[ The words are laced with palpable sadness but also a kind of yearning unique to a father who lost his child. It's weird, come to think of it, to mourn the loss of a fifty year old man who just one day knocked on your door to introduce himself as your son, but. It's real and it doesn't make Cable any less of a Summers.
For a moment, Scott's lost in his own grief that he just. Stares at the gun before him. Maybe if he looks hard enough, he'd see Cable again. Nathan. He'd see his little boy beneath the exterior of a grumpy old man.
After what seemed like too long, he murmurs: ]
But thanks. [ And looks up at Wade, lips curved up. ] If you wanna talk about him with someone, I'm here. I want to always remember him.