( blue eyes lift to meet wade's eyes for just a second before they drop their gaze back down to the table, foot nudging at wade's again. he hasn't talked about this to anyone — figures scott and the others just know with already knowing him and he's not here to talk about himself — he's here for wade and to listen to what he needs to say, but. he figures... supposes... )

Forge.

( does wade even know [of] him? regardless, nate continues. )

When I escaped from the pens, he found me and took me in. He was the closest thing I had to a father.

( which is why being here, in this place, with his biological father is... strange. difficult. something he's still trying to figure out. he wasn't raised by scott — scott didn't raise him as one of his own and yet, he thinks of him as his son... scott himself feels like family to nate. so does jean.

reaching out with a hand, he pulls the spreader over to him with his mind and rolls it over between his fingers, looking to it. )

It's my fault he's dead because people wanted me to be their weapon.

( so he gets it, even if the situations are a little different. he stills gets that feeling of guilt and grief for letting someone down.

lifting the spreader up then, he looks to wade again. )

Do you want me to get rid of it for you?