Scott didn't want to be here on the lab level where he could see the boot prints Stryker's men left behind. He wanted to be upstairs watching Jean sleep, not here underground asking the man who saved her life to walk into what amounted to a jail cell. Of course, having a Brotherhood member roaming around the school wasn't something he wanted to have happen either.
"Toad… we just need to a couple days to figure out what's going to happen next. We need to feel safe in our home. Rogue needs to feel safe in her home."
It was a cheap shot, and they both knew it, but Scott was fully prepared to not feel bad about it at all. Toad tilted his head back at a cocky angle and blinked up at Scott. "If you don't let me out when I'm done sleeping I'll kick the door down."
He had been expecting more of a fight before the stocky British terrorist let himself be locked in the medical isolation room. The surprise must have shown on his face because Toad pointed out "You've got the world's best telepath in the next room, why should I bother arguing?"
Instead of rising to that bait Scott just furrowed his brow and squeezed his eyes shut. His eyes throbbed. When he felt like this he was afraid to take off his visor; he didn't trust mere doctored Ray Bans to hold in all the tense energy. Toad let his head droop momentarily towards his chest, but he stood up almost military-straight before he turned to face the door of the isolation room. Scott set the room's climate control and opened the door. He glanced at Toad, who was standing on the edge of his truncated field of vision. It seemed that the shorter man's stubbornness was holding him up more than muscles were.
The medical isolation rooms were designed to quarantine the ill, isolate the unstable, and confine the dangerous. They were large enough to hold a hospital bed and monitoring equipment if need be, though this one just had the built in bed with it's foam slab mattress, a chair and a small table. The floor and walls were covered with slightly spongy, sound absorbing beige tile, but there were random sparkly stickers in the corners from Jubilee's stay during a chickenpox relapse. Bathroom stall style panels screened the shower and toilet and a removable curtain presently covered the observation mirror from the inside.
Toad stepped through the door with an uncertain expression on his face. Scott quickly tossed a bundle of sheets, blankets and pillows onto the chair, then hesitated before retreating. "I swear to you, in eight hours these doors will be open again."
Toad smiled grimly. "Yeah, sure. Now go, and maybe in the morning I'll have figured out why the hell I'm trusting you."
"That one's easy. I'm the boyscout, remember?"