The tent was hardly warm, but it was at least dry. Which was far more than Anna had gotten since falling into a hole in the ground she now wasn't so sure she was ever going to get out of. Resting on the tent's floor with only a thin layer of nylon and a rolled-up pair of pants acting as a pillow for comfort, she found herself staring at the wall opposite the tent door most of the night. She could hear the popping of wood from the fire behind her and feel the smallest bit of heat radiating through the fabric of the zipper door. Beyond she knew Scott was there 'keeping watch,' whatever that was supposed to mean. She figured if their 'keeper' wanted them dead, they would be dead. Still, he insisted on taking the first watch, though she never intended on getting up to relieve him of his self-inflicted burden.
Her mind wandered laying there in the near-dark space. Her silhouette was cast on the wall she faced by the fire's flickering light, and she watched her distorted shadowed features bounce and move. She thought of home, and for the first time - home wasn't back in Mississippi. It was in the attic, rummaging through Evan's neatly stocked shelves of Dungeons and Dragons books, and perusing them with Kitty on that couch that was older than both their ages put together. It was watching the boys play games on their decrepit TV set that they got at some pawn shop for couch cushion change, and heckling the pair of them every time they lost a life in whatever relic of a game one of them dug up to play. She then found herself thinking of McCoy's classroom and that uneven-legged chair and desk she was made to sit in at the front of the class near the door. She listened back to his lectures in her mind, and could still hear the passion in his voice when he spoke about all things old and dusty like they still mattered. She could feel the sun leaking in from the windows of his classroom and lighting up the rare few inches of her bare flesh around her wrists and neck.
She then remember the way McCoy's brow stitched together and looked down on her like a bug just moments before demanding she takes this god-damned trip for the sake of her grade. It was the first time he ever raised her voice to her, despite her giving him every reason in the past to do so in the past. She was ashamed to admit it, but it was enough to make her cry in the bathroom later that day.
The icy claws of reality peeled back the edges of her sleepy mind. Everything felt heavier, her legs felt like two jagged pieces of cold metal welded to her midsection which was eviscerated with pain from having to drag them along all day. She rolled to her other side, hoping the shift would offset the pain. Though the crack left in the zipped-up tent door, she spotted Scott leaning against a stone column nearby. The way he sat, she thought he had nodded off, till she saw his finger flick to shift something in his other hand's grasp. She had to peer through the glowing embers of the fire to find Scott reading a book that was just bigger than his left hand. The well-loved cover's label was too far to read, but she could make out the branding just fine. Anyone who spent any length of time at the Caldecott County library would have been able to recognize that cover. It was a Kristen Ramsey novel. A famous romance author whose thousands of books were marketed toward women on the cusp of menopause. Anna had to stare a while to really be sure she was understanding the scene presented before her correctly. She then recalled the bus and the textbook Scott had his nose buried in, yet he didn't know the first thing about the 'archaeological equipment' he found despite being a member of the archeology club. He must have had his smaller book hidden beneath his larger textbook and read it on the ride-up. It was the same trick she pulled during math class and her Game Boy.
She only wish she had her phone handy to record what felt like an alien sighting. The misogynist self-absorbed macho-man that was Scott Summers was reading a trashy romance novel just a few feet away from her. In absence of her phone's camera, she was going to have to take a solid mental image and hope that will suffice for her later debriefing of the whole fiasco to Kitty and the others later. Hopefully, if there was a later, that is.
***
"You're still angry," Scott said to her while they split the Chilli Mac MRE for breakfast the following morning. She said nothing while she shoveled lukewarm gristle into her mouth using her fingers. She said nothing still while he helped her collapse the tent when he asked, "So we're just not talking now?" She didn't bother looking at him when he handed her one of the two working flashlights he managed to scavenge from the dig site, and she didn't answer when he suggested, "I can take a turn holding the bag for a while if you want."
Since falling down the hole and being forced to spend so much quality time with the actual scum of the earth that was Scott Summers, there was genuine quiet in the air between them as they walked along another passage that Scott had picked using his 'wall hugging' system. She didn't hear a single tangent or ramble from her companion nor even a complaint. She was tempted to check her watch to see how long exactly he could go for, when he finally said something that, admittedly, took her by surprise.
"I'm sorry."
She didn't look at him. She instead watched him from the corner of her eye. She said nothing, but instead flexed her jaw and gave a sharp sniff.
"You have every right to be angry with me." His tone wasn't flippant or sarcastic. Instead, it was neutral boarding on what Anna dared to wonder was genuine.
"That right?" She said, finally breaking her monk-like devotion to silence. "And are you just saying that because you don't want me to be angry at you anymore?"
"No… yes… hell - I don't know anymore."
"Well, why don't you figure that out and get back with me."
"What I do know is that I haven't been acting like myself. I thought, given the situation, I needed to step up and - uh - I guess be more manly or something. Be a leader. Be assertive."
"You can be a leader and not be a complete asshole, you know. Besides, it's you who insisted on picking up this 'leadership' role to begin with. Like I said from the get-go, it's just the two of us. Who cares who's in charge? We're just trying to find our way out of this shit-hole."
"Yeah. I… guess you're right. I don't know, I've just gotten so used to this leadership role being foisted upon me - this archetype I'm supposed to fill… I forgot how to exist outside of it I guess."
"Who exactly is 'foisting' this great responsibility onto you, Scott? From where I stand, it's you who insists on taking up this 'burden of leadership' all the time."
"Xavier. He was the one who wanted me to be the squad leader of the X-Men, not me. I never asked for this job."
"That right?"
"Yeah. If anything, I thought it should have been Jean, but he shot the idea down immediately. Said I was the only one who could do it. I'm assuming that was because I was the only senior member of the group left who could assume the role."
"So is it Xavier too who made you act like a self-righteous dickhead this whole time? Is it Xavier who makes you and Jean avoid the rest of us like we're some sort of 2nd class citizens? He do that too, Scott?"
"Look, I said I was sorry-"
"Oh, well, if you said sorry then all is obviously forgiven."
Scott inhaled deep through his nose. "Yes, you're right, it's not Xavier's fault all those things happen. I do those things, not him. But you have to admit you're blowing some stuff out of proportion a little."
"Am I? Like how you and Jean are too good to ride the bus with us in the morning and don't even offer to give us a lift? How none of us see hide-nor-hair of you during the day, and at dinner, you both are just stuck in each other's asses till you both decide to leave?"
"Oh like you four aren't. Lately, you, Kitty, Evan, and Kurt have practically been a four-some. I don't know that I've ever seen you all apart."
"Because we've had to, motherfucker! Who else could we be around that understands? Who else is there that doesn't judge and gets it?"
"Exactly! And yet you're giving me lip for me and Jean hanging out all the time!"
Anna stopped and pointed her flashlight at him. "What? When did I say that?"
"You've said it over and over again. You say we think we're better than you, that we're some sort of superiors or something. The truth is we are always around one another because we've been together since the beginning. Since before Kitty, Evan, and Kurt. Jean and I were there when the X-Men were very first envisioned in Xavier's bald head. We've been through it all and have a friendship worth its weight in gold because of it. We get each other. We don't think less of you guys, we just get each other more."
"So because of you're golden 'friendship,'" Anna air-quoted, "you both have the right to treat the rest of us like hot garbage."
"I didn't say that -"
"You didn't have to."
Scott turned around and rested his forearm against the cave wall. "You want to know why I drive Jean and myself to school in the morning? Why I have lunch by myself every day and don't linger during dinner or after practice? It's because I'm afraid of you guys."
Anna stared at the back of Scott's head. It felt like a cable in her brain snapped and was skitzing out on the floor in front of her.
Scott didn't bother turning. Instead, he leaned into his arm and rested his forehead against his sleeve. "I don't know how to talk to you guys. I don't know what to do around you outside of places like the Danger Room or missions. Even then I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing. All I can think of is stuff from action movies that I used to watch with my dad years ago. I feel like I have to be some sort of Arnold Schwarzenegger or a badass Bruce Willis and lead you guys fearlessly into battle," he snorted, "but in reality, I'm terrified out of my freaking mind. I mean, I'm responsible for you all. For your lives. What we do, the things we are called to do, people can get hurt or killed, and it's my decision that put them there. Logan says I need to be prepared for anything, but with our abilities and against the people we face, we really could face anything.
"All the time I freeze. On the battlefield, in life around you guys, I just - I never know the right thing to say! Anna, I don't know why I'm here! Why am I the X-Men leader? I know I suck at this and it's only a matter of time before I get someone killed - I -" His shoulders trembled. She could hear him breathing. "I'm scared to be around you guys because I don't want you to die."
Looking at him, Anna remembered feeling his fear and frustration in their briefest of touches while she was mending his leg. Those same feelings were welling back up inside her stomach and chest. "Scott, you're being way too hard on yourself."
"I'm not being hard enough! I have to be faster, smarter... know more! If I don't then -"
Anna found the opposing wall of the corridor to Scott and sat at its foot. She crossed her legs and picked at the caked mud on her jeans. "When I first got here, with y'all I mean, I felt like I was this island onto myself. Like, now that my Moms, my friends, and my whole life gone, it was nothing but me and this ocean around me. While being here, and getting to know the others, I realized I wasn't alone in that feeling. We were all these little self-sustaining islands. Everyone seemed so afraid to let anyone else in. Especially me. Then through Kurt, I got to know Evan, who for the longest time I thought was a frigged bitch till we got a couple of things straight. Now he lets me read his books and make fun of him while he plays shitty video games. Then Kitty, who I thought was just a gigantic pain in the ass, ended up being… a weirdly solid friend.
"I don't know your life, Scott. I don't know what history you and Xavier and Jean have, but I get being afraid of letting others in and feeling like you can't be authentic. I'm not exactly a 'people person,' yet everyone in the house we live in has helped me find some of the better parts of myself, and helped me find the better parts in other people. I guess what I'm getting at is, don't isolate yourself because you're afraid. I know there is this leadership thing you struggle with, but living a life away from others is a crappy life. I would know, it was my whole thing for a long time. It's not always comfortable either getting to know others, but I think it's worse running away from people who could end up loving you."
Scott drooped his head and flattened a palm against the wall. "I want to believe you… I just can't. Not yet anyway." He turned to face her, one of his dirt-caked cheeks a little wetter from tears. "Um," He swept a knuckle under his nose. "I, um, appreciate you listening to my little mental breakdown there." He cleared his throat.
Anna snorted. "Not at all," she stood. "For a second you seemed almost human."
"I'm sorry for the way things started out between us." He held out his hand to her. "Would you mind… if we started over?"
She looked at his hand, then back at him. "You going to leave the shitty misogynistic action hero crap behind."
"Yeah, I like Alan Rickman better in Die Hard than Brucie Willis anyway."
She gave him a cockeyed smile, rolled her sleeve past the bare skin, clapped hands with him, and shook.