Scott kept running his thumbs over the back of his hands, sitting in the hallway as Ororo and Jean helped clean Kurt up and get him something to fill his stomach. Kurt's markings were worrying Scott. Usually they weren't so… rigid looking. Something was wrong with Kurt and it was more than a stomach bug.
Scott continued to fiddle with his fingers even after Jean came out and sat down next to him, her presence awkwardly trying to fill the space between them. "His markings-" she started, but fell short, seeming to struggle with the same issue that Scott was. "They… They almost look… Scabbed over?"
And finally Scott was able to put a word to the rigidity of his swirls and lines and designs. And suddenly a lot more made sense to him. I've tried to repent… There's… there's more…
Suddenly, Scott felt sick. He groaned, holding his stomach and folding in on himself. He squeezed his eyes tightly and his lips went white from how tightly they were pulled back against his teeth. "No," he breathed, hurt and sad. "Oh, God, no."
"Scott, what's wrong? Are you getting sick, too?" Jean got down on her knees and pressed a hand to his forehead. He opened his eyes and stared at the red floor, tears at the brim of his eyes.
"Kurt," he breathed, struggling to word it correctly. "Oh, God, Kurt, no ." He shook his head, closing his eyes. His glasses fell, and before he could reach for them, Jean was already sliding them back into place.
"Tell me what's wrong with Kurt. Scott, you know something, and I'll pry it out of you if I really have to." Her voice was fierce but her threats were useless. Scott was telling her before she could even finish.
"He's cutting himself. I don't know for sure, but he mentioned something about having to repent and being unable to and that there was more to all of it but he didn't want to tell me and I knew something was weird with his markings but I couldn't put my finger on and he wasn't born with those, Jean! He gave them to himself! Jesus Christ he's cutting himself. All over his body… To try and… repent ."
And Scott lost it. He was so angry at everything. He was angry at the world for being unfair, he was angry at the Professor for pushing him so hard and never giving him a chance to relax, he was angry at Jack Winters and Mr. Sinister and his parents and his brother. And he was mad at himself.
He was mad at himself for being unable to control his powers, being unable to control the situation. He was mad because his parents were dead and his brother was dead and here he was, a living relic to all of his mistakes. And here was Kurt, the most precious person he knew. Someone with a heart far too big for reality and who had suffered more than their fair share. Kurt, with a pure soul only tainted by his own self-hatred. And Scott couldn't help him.
He punched the wall- Jean gasped- and his fist went through the plaster until he hit the wood, sending waves of pain up his hand and arm. He pulled his fist out of the hole and was greeted by a dusty, blood streaked hand. "I'm going to take a shower," he growled. "No one bother me."
Jean tried to call after him but Scott was already halfway down the hallway, other hand up by his face to wipe away the hot angry tears that were beginning to streak down his face.