Angelo and Paige, down in the medlab
Jul. 27th, 2005 05:41 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
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Angelo finally comes down to see Paige.
Amanda was right. He'd known it the first time she told him to find Paige, and he knew it now. It was time to finally get his nerve and make a long-overdue visit to Paige. So, Angelo stood outside her door and knocked.
Paige couldn't stay in the labs all the time; as fun as spinning around in chairs and bantering with Forge about whatever current project he was working on was, occasionally she had to rest. Or, at least sit in her room and pretend to rest, which was generally the case. At the moment she was rereading one of the books Forge had given her, putting flags with little marks for the important things, and generally making a very thourough, organized mess of the thing. When she heard the knock on her door, she didn't even raise her eyes, assuming it was one of the doctors with a meal she had missed. "Come on in!"
He opened the door, but didn't move far into the room yet, choosing to lean against the doorframe instead. "Hi, Paige." No affectionate nicknames now, though he wasn't really aware of doing it.
"Hi there, chi-" Paige started, before looking up suddenly. Everything was a blurred mess until she tipped her glasses down her nose, and smiled a little warily at the familiar figure standing in her view, with an equally familiar posture. "Hey, Angelo."
"So. Guess we need to talk... a lot."
Taking off her glasses, Paige nodded and folded them up, placing them on the bedside table. "We do indeed. Come in, I can't move fast enough to bite you anyway."
He nodded, finally coming into the room and perching on the edge of a chair. "You're okay now?"
"I'm okay," she confirmed, absently fingering the book in her lap. "I'm not at one hundred percent, but I'm getting there."
He nodded, aware that he was still putting off what needed to be done, but unsure how to begin. "'s good."
"And you?" she countered, breaking the awkward silence that was threatening to descend at any moment. "How are you doing?"
He managed a rueful half-smile and echoed what he'd said to Clarice. "Been better, been much worse."
"You're not dead yet, so it's a good day?" Paige asked wryly, answering his smile with a lopsided smirk of her own. "When did you get so optimistic?"
He shrugged. "Livin' here does that to you, I guess."
Paige smiled thinly, biting hard against the inside of her lip as she reminded herself to take a breath. "I like to think that it doesn't matter where you are; if you want the world to be dark, it will be."
Six months earlier, he would have moved to hug her now. He couldn't do that anymore. "Yeah, you might be right."
"It's the general opinion that I'm occasionally a genius. Go with it," Paige answered smoothly, masking the dull undertones of her voice. This was not going... well, this was not going at all. What did he want her to say?
He didn't know. Didn't know what he wanted to say, either. Finally, he admitted quietly, "Don't really know how to start this."
Tilting her head just slightly to the side to regard him, Paige sighed. "I hear the beginning is a good place. What do you want to know?" she asked gently.
He sighed and, finally, asked. "How long was... were you... you know."
"No, I don't know. Was I at Harvard? Was I living in a sewer? Was I convinced people were trying to kill me? A lot of things happened, Angelo. I don't mind telling you everything, you of all people have a right to know, but you're going to have to be more specific," Paige said boldly, lifting her chin ever so slightly as if defying his urge to treat her like glass.
"When was the beginning, then?"
Paige took a deep breath, slowly letting it out as she thought to herself. "I... don't even know. Too much piled on with some more, I guess. I just collapsed under the weight." It was the easiest way to explain it, really, unless she planned on investing in some hypnotic therapy and spending a lot of time talking non-stop.
"We would've been there if you'd let us. You know that, right?" It wasn't an accusation, not really. Just a statement.
"I know. I'm not blaming anyone but myself for this one."
"So... you went to Harvard... what was that, a last try at makin' it okay?"
Paige nodded, pulling at her hair distractedly. "Part of it. I was blaming everyone but myself, literally everyone around me, so I thought going somewhere where I knew no one made perfect sense. And, well, there were less questions to answer, except for things like, 'How do you manage to be so perfect?'"
Angelo nodded. "I can understand that, I guess. Didn't work, though, I figure?"
"No, it seems not," Paige answered, chuckling shortly. "Oops."
He took a deep breath. "Next question. Did you mean what you said in the letter?
Paige closed her eyes against the look he was giving her; she'd known they were dancing around this but for some reason she was hoping, in the pit of her stomach, that maybe he'd figured out the answer on his own. "Yes," she finally said, more of a breath than anything else. "I just... wish I'd been able to say it better. You of all people didn't deserve... I'm sorry, Angelo."
There was a long moment of silence, then he nodded, not looking at her. "I knew, really. Just wanted t'hear it from you, now you're... better."
"I really am," Paige repeatedly quietly, making a tight fist under her book against the tears behind her eyes and the pleading on her tongue. They both deserved more dignity than that. "Things weren't going right, but I didn't stop caring for you, Ange. I'm so sorry."
He sighed again. "Better like this, maybe. If... no, not if. You're right. Would've been worse later, if we'd carried on."
She wouldn't tell him she still loved him; that would be better for no one. Paige didn't want to give him false hope, for him to wonder if maybe she hadn't meant it, or perhaps even try to win her over again. Besides, it was a different kind of love, more like a worn paper thin shirt. "You're free to choose for you. I'm not saying that as an excuse, but maybe it'll make things easier in the end. You've done more than enough living for someone else."
There was a reason he'd said nothing about still loving her, which was much the same. Truth be told, he wasn't sure he still did, or not the way he had. His voice was sincere, though, when he answered, "I wasn't livin' for you, not through most of it. The last couple of years, what I've wanted was to be here, with you. But now... I don't know anymore."
"It was already changing, Angelo." Paige swallowed hard, giving him a tired smile. "I guess we grew up."
He smiled back - sadly, but a smile. "I guess we did."
Amanda was right. He'd known it the first time she told him to find Paige, and he knew it now. It was time to finally get his nerve and make a long-overdue visit to Paige. So, Angelo stood outside her door and knocked.
Paige couldn't stay in the labs all the time; as fun as spinning around in chairs and bantering with Forge about whatever current project he was working on was, occasionally she had to rest. Or, at least sit in her room and pretend to rest, which was generally the case. At the moment she was rereading one of the books Forge had given her, putting flags with little marks for the important things, and generally making a very thourough, organized mess of the thing. When she heard the knock on her door, she didn't even raise her eyes, assuming it was one of the doctors with a meal she had missed. "Come on in!"
He opened the door, but didn't move far into the room yet, choosing to lean against the doorframe instead. "Hi, Paige." No affectionate nicknames now, though he wasn't really aware of doing it.
"Hi there, chi-" Paige started, before looking up suddenly. Everything was a blurred mess until she tipped her glasses down her nose, and smiled a little warily at the familiar figure standing in her view, with an equally familiar posture. "Hey, Angelo."
"So. Guess we need to talk... a lot."
Taking off her glasses, Paige nodded and folded them up, placing them on the bedside table. "We do indeed. Come in, I can't move fast enough to bite you anyway."
He nodded, finally coming into the room and perching on the edge of a chair. "You're okay now?"
"I'm okay," she confirmed, absently fingering the book in her lap. "I'm not at one hundred percent, but I'm getting there."
He nodded, aware that he was still putting off what needed to be done, but unsure how to begin. "'s good."
"And you?" she countered, breaking the awkward silence that was threatening to descend at any moment. "How are you doing?"
He managed a rueful half-smile and echoed what he'd said to Clarice. "Been better, been much worse."
"You're not dead yet, so it's a good day?" Paige asked wryly, answering his smile with a lopsided smirk of her own. "When did you get so optimistic?"
He shrugged. "Livin' here does that to you, I guess."
Paige smiled thinly, biting hard against the inside of her lip as she reminded herself to take a breath. "I like to think that it doesn't matter where you are; if you want the world to be dark, it will be."
Six months earlier, he would have moved to hug her now. He couldn't do that anymore. "Yeah, you might be right."
"It's the general opinion that I'm occasionally a genius. Go with it," Paige answered smoothly, masking the dull undertones of her voice. This was not going... well, this was not going at all. What did he want her to say?
He didn't know. Didn't know what he wanted to say, either. Finally, he admitted quietly, "Don't really know how to start this."
Tilting her head just slightly to the side to regard him, Paige sighed. "I hear the beginning is a good place. What do you want to know?" she asked gently.
He sighed and, finally, asked. "How long was... were you... you know."
"No, I don't know. Was I at Harvard? Was I living in a sewer? Was I convinced people were trying to kill me? A lot of things happened, Angelo. I don't mind telling you everything, you of all people have a right to know, but you're going to have to be more specific," Paige said boldly, lifting her chin ever so slightly as if defying his urge to treat her like glass.
"When was the beginning, then?"
Paige took a deep breath, slowly letting it out as she thought to herself. "I... don't even know. Too much piled on with some more, I guess. I just collapsed under the weight." It was the easiest way to explain it, really, unless she planned on investing in some hypnotic therapy and spending a lot of time talking non-stop.
"We would've been there if you'd let us. You know that, right?" It wasn't an accusation, not really. Just a statement.
"I know. I'm not blaming anyone but myself for this one."
"So... you went to Harvard... what was that, a last try at makin' it okay?"
Paige nodded, pulling at her hair distractedly. "Part of it. I was blaming everyone but myself, literally everyone around me, so I thought going somewhere where I knew no one made perfect sense. And, well, there were less questions to answer, except for things like, 'How do you manage to be so perfect?'"
Angelo nodded. "I can understand that, I guess. Didn't work, though, I figure?"
"No, it seems not," Paige answered, chuckling shortly. "Oops."
He took a deep breath. "Next question. Did you mean what you said in the letter?
Paige closed her eyes against the look he was giving her; she'd known they were dancing around this but for some reason she was hoping, in the pit of her stomach, that maybe he'd figured out the answer on his own. "Yes," she finally said, more of a breath than anything else. "I just... wish I'd been able to say it better. You of all people didn't deserve... I'm sorry, Angelo."
There was a long moment of silence, then he nodded, not looking at her. "I knew, really. Just wanted t'hear it from you, now you're... better."
"I really am," Paige repeatedly quietly, making a tight fist under her book against the tears behind her eyes and the pleading on her tongue. They both deserved more dignity than that. "Things weren't going right, but I didn't stop caring for you, Ange. I'm so sorry."
He sighed again. "Better like this, maybe. If... no, not if. You're right. Would've been worse later, if we'd carried on."
She wouldn't tell him she still loved him; that would be better for no one. Paige didn't want to give him false hope, for him to wonder if maybe she hadn't meant it, or perhaps even try to win her over again. Besides, it was a different kind of love, more like a worn paper thin shirt. "You're free to choose for you. I'm not saying that as an excuse, but maybe it'll make things easier in the end. You've done more than enough living for someone else."
There was a reason he'd said nothing about still loving her, which was much the same. Truth be told, he wasn't sure he still did, or not the way he had. His voice was sincere, though, when he answered, "I wasn't livin' for you, not through most of it. The last couple of years, what I've wanted was to be here, with you. But now... I don't know anymore."
"It was already changing, Angelo." Paige swallowed hard, giving him a tired smile. "I guess we grew up."
He smiled back - sadly, but a smile. "I guess we did."