xp_logs | LOG: Alison/Forge - Sometimes you just wait

Thursday morning, Forge decides to forego classes and sit by the
lake. Alison's walking happens to intersect his sitting, and a
conversation is had, and hope is found.

With the atmosphere in the mansion and her mood in general,
Alison had decided that taking a walk outside and away from
people in general was a good idea. Most particularly people who
might ask her questions about either Paige or Haroun. As if, she
thought with a mild stab of annoyance, she would just sit there
and gape at events like a landed fish instead of perhaps calmly
consider what to do about the former and already know what to do
about the latter.

People being up in arms were starting, she realized, to annoy
her. It was as though no one ever did anything when people left
(yet again) or generally didn't cope well with something
(again). She was getting a touch tired, perhaps, of some people
often thinking no one was doing anything at any given
time, or that no one noticed anything at all. And very likely,
she smiled thinly as she stepped outside and went down the
steps, counting them under her breath one at a time, she was
disinclined to show patience just now with anyone even close to
hinting, as unwitting as it might be, that she would not be
doing something. Whatever that something might be.

Forge sat on the bench by the lake, letting his feet dangle into the
water. It was odd, he thought, that the prosthetic foot registered
cold, but not partcular degrees of it. Something to fix, perhaps.
Something he at least COULD fix.

He ran a hand over the sling, feeling his arm under it still
immobilized. He at least had full feeling in his shoulder, but hardly
any movement, since the artificial muscle interwoven with the existing
biological muscle was still attenuating to his nervous system.
Offhandedly, he wondered if Mr. al-Rashid ever had these problems,
then reminded himself that as bad off as he had it, others still had
it worse.

He heard the footsteps on the path behind him. Didn't sound like Mr.
Marko's clomping gait, or the near-silent footfalls of Catseye. For a
second he caught a glimpse of blonde hair and wondered if Paige hadn't
left after all, and was coming to give him a piece of her mind about
meddling.

The path widened as it neared the lake, and it was the
reflection of the sunlight on something metallic which drew her
attention. Staring at it unblinking as it winked in and out of
existence through the bushes as something moved in the water.
Another step cleared her view to the bench and the source of the
reflection and Alison paused, taking a slow breath.

Her mind had gone comfortably blank as she'd left the mansion
and headed for the woods, never once breaking from her steady
walk, but now the thinking had started up again and she wasn't
sure she could reach the pleasantly blank spot she'd discovered
on her way down to the lake.

She settled for a small nod, and then waited for a moment, the
particularly woeful air about Forge keeping her from just going
on her way entirely. Finally, after glancing out towards the
lake for a moment, Alison picked her way towards the bench to
sit down next to him.

Forge just sat quietly, kicking his feet slowly in the water, watching
the beads form on the skin of his artificial foot. Rubbing his arm in
the sling unconsciously, he finally let out a small chuckle. "Think I
may need to ask for an extension on my Music final, Ms. Blaire," he
said quietly.

"I think we can work that out," Alison replied, staring ahead at
the lake, the occasional sun glare from the metal dancing in the
corner of her eyes. "How's the arm coming along?" She tilted her
head to look at him, eyeing the sling pensively. "I know
Haroun's recovery times but this isn't exactly the same thing,
really." She'd spoken steadily throughout the entire sentence,
voice never wavering.

"He's had longer for his body to adjust," Forge said clinically. "Not
to mention the need for constant medical upgrades. Me?" He shrugged
noncommitally, "I got comparatively lucky. Better hardware to work
with, less invasive. But to answer your question, it doesn't hurt like
it did the first few days. It's weird, though. I can feel," he touched
his left shoulder gingerly, "here, where the muscle and the myomer
mesh together? Feels all kinda ragged inside, hard to explain."

"Myomer starting to kick in and sensation extending," not really
a question or even a statement since Forge would know that far
better than she anyway. "I think I know what you mean." She
didn't go into how or comparisons – just nodded in acceptance of
what he was trying to say. And wondered, distantly, why these
upgrades weren't available for Haroun's 'ware. Then again, this
was custom work and not the same. Perhaps. And as Forge has said
– Haroun's hardware was far more invasive in terms of bodywork.
"Do you have a general time scale as to how long it should take
to settle down?"

Forge thought. "Six to ten weeks, depending on how well I take care of
myself. Like any major surgery recovery, really. The arm? It's ready
to go. It's getting the nerves lined up talking to it right. Mr.
al-Rashid's 'ware?" he noted, "he'd be up and running in a few days.
Because most of his stuff's managed by microcomputer, you see. The MMI
interface does all the translation work, that's what controls
everything from wiggling his toes to vectoring thrust for his power.
Me, mine goes right into the nervous system." He lifted his leg and
wiggled his foot for emphasis. "Way more complex, but I don't have to
fly on it."

He thought for a while, then shook his head. "I don't know how he does
it, really. I mean, I still wake up at nights surprised at this...
presence where my leg used to be. It's been a year and a half now, and
I still can't shake the weird feeling that it's not me, you
know? Doc Samson and I have been talking about it, though. Some
reason, the arm feels more natural. He says it's because it's more
integral, and I had a choice in it, start to finish. Makes sense, I
suppose."

Haroun didn't, Alison almost said, the words echoing only in her
mind instead. He dissociated between machine and 'meat' as he
called it, still considering himself more 'ware than human
regardless of the fact that mind determined that, ultimately.
There were many things Alison could have said, but instead
another truth slipped out, unbidden. "I wish Haroun had been
given a choice like that," she murmured wistfully, a sudden
tightness in her throat.

"Yeah," Forge agreed quietly. "It's got to be really hard for him.
He's Muslim, right? Mr. Dayspring was going over some of the cultural
stuff in History. About not drinking alcohol because the body's a
temple? I can't imagine how he deals with his cybernetics, with that
factored in." Rubbing his feet together awkwardly, Forge stared at the
water before continuing.

"Really kind of reminds me that I don't have a lot to bitch about in
the long run, you know? All things considered, a lot of folks have it
worse." He tried not to think of whatever was bugging Paige - hell,
that was something he couldn't even begin to understand.

"There's always someone who has it worse. And someone who has it
easier. It's just... about balancing how something affects
you while not excluding that maybe it's not the end of
the world compared to the other stuff out there. Or that
something you think is inconsequential isn't to someone else
because of their personal experiences. Personal scales versus
the general stuff or something." Smiling a bit crookedly, Alison
added a bit of light to the reflection of the sun, playing with
the variations of intensity on a minute level. "I guess. At
least it's what I'm trying to do."

Pondering that, Forge nodded slowly. "But what if you don't know what
the other person's going through because they don't tell you? When you
can tell something's eating at them, but they won't say anything? How
can you just 'be a friend' then?"

"By being there. Even when you can't do anything, even if your
help isn't what's wanted." She hadn't said it might not be
needed, just not wanted. "We can't fix it all, no matter how
much we may want to, no matter how much it hurts to watch and
stand by and not be able to do anything." She paused,
taking a shallow breath. "Sometimes... sometimes, that's what
being a friend is, too. Accepting to stand by and just watch,
waiting for the pieces to fall. And hoping you'll be allowed to
help pick them up after all is said and done. Without breaking
ourselves over it too in the process because it's not anyone's
fault, really." A bird swooped nearby, skimming over the water
while calling out to another bird, somewhere in the trees. "It's
just how things are."

Forge reached down, picking up a flat rock. He turned it over and over
in his hand before sidearming it out over the lake, watching it skip
several times before sinking into the water. "It sucks," he decided.
"I mean, there's stuff that bothers me that I don't talk to everyone
about, but I talk to someone. Doc Samson, Jay, Catseye, Dani,
hell, even Kyle or Mr. Dayspring. I know I've got people I can go to
who'll just listen." He looked out at the lake as the ripples from the
rock were fading. "Why doesn't she?"

With a short, humorless laugh, Alison shook her head. "Yeah, it
sucks. It does." The light on the water mirrored slightly,
dancing in slow patterns which joined the reflection from the
sun on Forge's foot. "Maybe it was because when Sam left to come
here, she thought it was up to her to take care of things back
home. And then locked herself in that so much that she forgot
she didn't always have to take care of everything, always be the
strong one. Maybe it's always expect so much of herself because
she always thought everyone did too. There are so many maybes
out there... and I don't know. Sometimes you just lock yourself
into a pattern," and the glimmering on the water changed, moving
into something entirely new, "and you just don't know how to
break out of it. Maybe someone, at the right time and place,
could have changed that. Or maybe not. Either way, it's not
what's important now."

Forge watched the patterns of light, smiling sadly. "I hope she comes
back," he said, resting his elbow on his knee and leaning forward
cautiously to look at his reflection in the water. "Going to really
miss her if she jets off to MIT. I mean, great for her and all, but
still, y'know?"

She's been missing Paige for a while now, Alison thought,
contemplating the water. "I hope she comes back too. Mostly, I
hope she'll be okay." Giving Forge a sideways look, she leaned
forward as well, settling her elbows on her knees. "But no
matter what happens, it'll have to be her decision. Coming back.
She's the only one who can make that really happen." She was the
only one who could make many things happen, Alison thought.

"Yeah," Forge agreed. He cocked his head, looking at his music teacher
inquisitively. "Hey, I know this probably isn't my place, but are you
holding up okay? I mean, I know I don't have to sleep much, but I
always see you running around doing stuff. I think Paige has the
patent on overworking herself, you're going to have to fight her for
the rights, I think," he added with a small laugh.

A smile greeted the question, the corner of Alison's lip curling
upwards, a hint of sheepishness to it perhaps. "You can ask
anytime. I don't mind. And I don't need quite as much sleep
since I can do with sound to boost me, but yeah, I've been
trying to watch myself there. Haroun's... been good about making
me delegate more things to him. Been spending a bit more time
with him and Miles, catching up on my reading. Playing the
guitar every day. Being on tour used to mean always having
something to do and for a while when I got here, I did nothing
at all for a long time. Having more to do has been both nice
and-" she paused, shaking her head, "a bit more stressful. I'm
not on tour right now." The latter was added quietly, though it
encompassed a difference Alison was at a loss to describe
otherwise.

"You know something, though?" At his look, she leaned back on
the bench, eyeing the patterns still drifting over the water,
fading now and then. "It's been nice, to be asked to help with
things like what you and Kyle wanted to try out yesterday. I
like that."

"Well, you're a teacher," Forge said with a shrug. "I figure you do it
because you want to help us learn stuff, right? And I hear you on the
'not enough to do' stuff. I talked with Ms. Maximoff, and she's not
letting me take more than a regular class load next year, and keeps
saying I need extracurricular activities. Which is good if I'm going
to get HeliX off the ground and running without Jamie at the helm."

"Yeah, but not everyone thinks to ask," she said softly, not
pointing out the parallels with the previous topic they'd been
discussing. "Have you thought of adding something else that's
purely fun related, in addition to the HeliX work you'll be
doing?" Smiling a bit, Alison imaged Wanda beating her head on
her desk at the thought of that particular intent likely being
missed.

"My classes ARE fun," Forge insisted, a slightly annoyed look on his
face. "I'm not a sports-type person, I'm not talented musically enough
to play in the band - not after only seven months of piano," he added
quickly, "and I'm taking care not to hole up for eight hours a day in
the lab. Fun's where you find it, really."

"Okay." If that was his idea of fun, then that was that and
fussing about it would likely only be insulting. "So what are
you thinking of for HeliX?" she asked, having a notion as to why
Jamie had decided to step back and understanding that particular
reason rather keenly.

Forge grinned, leaning back and holding up one hand, then frowning
when he realized his habitual gesture of counting points on his
fingers was negated by the unresponsive arm in the sling. "Well," he
started, "Dr. Grey's given me a new perspective on things - to be
honest, she's a little wacko and reactionary, but she has some good
points. I was thinking about lobbying for an FAA category for personal
flight - something that wouldn't necessarily be a license for mutants
alone, that's too close to registration, but something that would
cover folks legally if, say, someone wanted to try and file suit
against Jay for flying over their farm." He nodded his head. "Stuff
like that, less with the local, more with the big picture. Not that
the local stuff isn't important, but you really need the power of a
group to change things on a larger scale."

His thoughts on Jean nearly drew a startled laugh from Alison,
though she stifled it in time, settling for giving him an amused
look instead. It was, she thought, nice to feel simply amused
like that. "Trying to install a whole new legislation with what
you can bet some people will point at being specifically geared
towards mutants? That's ambitious." She smiled a bit though, not
condemning said ambition in the least. "Why don't you just try
to widen the already existing FAA legislation for small personal
crafts to include self propelled flight instead? Just a thought.
But... it might be easier to work with something that already
exists and can't be pointed out as being exclusive, too. Well –
what already exists could be," she pointed out. "Course, it
opens a few new problems for us."

"Better safe than sorry," Forge replied. "Mr. al-Rashid explained to
me that the Blackbird's licensed to fly under a direct Presidential
mandate - nice work on that, I'm not even going to ASK how that came
about - but he himself has no license that would qualify for flight
outside an aircraft, because the category doesn't exist yet." Forge
held up a finger, a smile crossing his face, "but you've got a great
idea there - tack it on as an addition to existing pilot's licenses,
and voila. Of course, this means all our flying mutants who want to do
so legally would have to go through a licensed flight school, learn
the laws of air travel, hmm... not a bad idea, come to think of it.
Have you ever thought about going into law or politics?" Forge asked
innocently.

Tilting her head back, Alison laughed out loud. "Yes, I did. But
I never even opened my Harvard letter when I got it," she
grinned, shaking her head. "Though right up until then I thought
I'd end up a lawyer. Broke the family tradition instead and
wasn't even obliging enough to stick to Julliard at that."
Stretching out one arm and spreading her fingers wide she
chuckled, the light dancing on the water in reaction. "You'll
need a few exceptions tacked on to the modifications of the
general legislation, maybe. Something about restricted air
spaces and a flyer not having a radio on hand to be warned
before being shot down comes to mind first." And how they'd have
to handle the inevitable time when an X-Man would have to fly
through restricted air space, one way or another.

"Point," Forge mused, watching the subtle light show. "Actually, would
you mind if I ran the proposal by you once I get it drafted? I fully
admit to my ignorance of how things work at the top level, that's why
I've been paying attention to Dr. Grey's old writings and speeches."
His face practically lit up with anticipation. "Besides, I've never
seen Washington."

"I won't say I know it either, but I'm more than willing to read
through it," Alison nodded easily at that. "Have you given
thought to finding a lawyer willing to work pro bono on the
specific legal aspects involved with legislation work?" As an
afterthought, she added, "and you'll have to take into account
those who don't want to be outed as mutants, too. Somehow."
Shaking her head, she sighed ruefully. "Right. First things
first, and that means a draft." She could think of several
others at the mansion who would likely have something to
contribute to it, as well. "And eventually, maybe a trip to
Washington, mm?"

Forge stopped, suddenly reminded of something. "I may know just the
guy," and when he gets back from his honeymoon, I'll ask him,
he left unsaid. He gave a suppressed snicker as well. "Although if
someone's flying around the sky, I'm pretty sure that counts as
'coming out'. But you're right, first things first."

He stood up, brushing dust off his shorts and stretching. For a
moment, his demeanor was bright, then slowly faded to solemn as he
looked out over the lake one more time. "You think everything's going
to turn out all right, ma'am? Just, you know, all this crazy stuff?"

"Hope is the thing with feathers, that perches in the soul,
and sings the tunes without the words, and never stops at
all.*" The words were quoted carefully, Alison lingering over
the last words. "I hope so, Forge. I do all I can for it to be
so." Her eyes shadowed for a moment, the warmth of the sun
dimming momentarily. "And I don't know if I could do that, if I
didn't at least hope for everything to turn out all right."

"Huh," was Forge's only response, a small nod of acknowledgement.
Folding his right arm over his left, he felt along the edge of the
steel and wire that comprised his new arm. He touched the border
lightly where he could feel, under the bandages, where metal ended and
flesh began. "Hope," he repeated. "Yeah, I can deal with that."

* Quote from Emily Dickinson's Hope is the Thing with
Feathers.