Friday. Scott and Lorna

[x-polarisstar.livejournal.com]

When Lorna runs into Scott downstairs, things get tense quickly. The team, Alex and powers get discussed and nothing gets resolved.



Lorna hated the boneless half-dead feeling after a good workout. There was no reason to push herself to this feeling either and that made her feel worse. It made her feel exceptionally useless when she knew that it wouldn't be put to any use but chasing the puppies and running between classes. Tired, with her hair still wet from the shower and just a little irritated with the world in general, Lorna walked through the lower halls back to the elevator, twisting her ring on her finger.

The elevator slid open to reveal a slightly harassed-looking Scott, coffee cup in hand. He eyed Lorna for a moment, then mustered up a faint smile. "Back from the gym?" he asked, turning back in the direction of the Situation Room. It was probably overkill, to be sitting coms waiting for any more news from Muir, but he was feeling a little twitchy after Moira's report and being right there would make him feel better.

Lorna nodded, noting the coffee mug, the slightly frayed look, the direction he was taking. "Something going on?" she asked without thinking then shook her head, reminding herself that it wasn't any of her business or concern. "Nevermind."

Scott stopped and gave her a long look. "Oh, no," he finally said, and his smile was crooked this time. "You don't get to take that back. Do you want to know?"

"I'm not on the team," she non-answered, stepping forward to observe his coffee instead, "Ew, who bought that? Didn't I teach you people anything? I know I stocked this place with good beans before I left."

"You were doing a pretty good impression of the Polaris I used to know back in Hawaii before Christmas," Scott observed tolerantly, and rolled his eye at her. "It's caffeine, it's hot, I'm good. I'm not a coffee-gourmand."

Lorna frowned. "You brought my uniform. Even though you assured me that I wouldn't be there as a team member. Was that some kind of test?" She leaned against the wall and crossed her arms over her chest.

"I brought your uniform because I cover all my bases like the obsessive-compulsive person I am," Scott said patiently. "I also didn't stuff you into it, now, did I?"

That didn't really matter when it had been waiting for her. Like she was going to not notice it. "For all our sakes, I think it's a good thing you didn't. I wouldn't want Jean to murder me. Or Alex to murder you." Lorna shook her head and looked off down the corridor. "I can't come back, Scott. I promised."

"Promised who?"

"Alex. I told him after I quit that I was done." And for that reason it wasn't even worth considering the alternatives. Lorna fingered her ring again before looking back at Scott. "Besides, you don't need me. There are plenty of severe damage makers on your team."

Scott leaned back against the other wall, raising an eyebrow at her. "Did he ask you to promise that?" he asked, inwardly resolving that he and his little brother were going to have some pretty harsh words if that was the case.

But she just shrugged, "Not in so many words. You know how he is, he'd never ask. He doesn't like it but he'd never force me to not do something. Even that last trip--he hated it. But he didn't try to stop me." Her hand clenched and the diamond on her finger caught the light, drawing her eye. "Why don't you want me to marry him?"

Scott just raised an eyebrow again. "So it's the newest excuse? Now you can demur on Alex's account and reassure yourself that you're being selfless by not thinking about it. And I don't not want you to marry him," Scott said very precisely. "I wasn't sure that him asking you to marry him right now was the best idea for either of you."

"My reasons are the same they've always been. I never wanted to do this in the first place and after Malice...I don't trust myself to do a good job anymore. Alex not liking it just makes the decision that much," harder, "easier." She pushed off the wall then slouched back against it with a sigh. No point expending the energy. "Anyway. So why don't you think he should have asked now? Because I'm still a nutcase?"

"I don't believe you," Scott said, his voice still perfectly level, "and I think at some point you're going to want to stop hiding. Just don't let my brother's admittedly-passive selfishness on the issue cloud things." He shrugged, then went on. "And I wasn't sure about him asking you now because he phrased it to me as needing to prove something to you. That's kind of an alarming reason to ask that particular question."

Lorna frowned, "I'm...not following you. You're calling Alex selfish? He'd give up anything for me. Just because my decision isn't what you want doesn't make it wrong. And what exactly would have been a good reason? What part of him wanting me to know that he was always going to be there is bad?"

"I'm calling him very selfish on the issue of the team," Scott said. "He always has been, even if he won't stand up and say it. He says all the right supportive words, but you don't need telepathy to see the 'but...' in his eyes." Scott's voice took on an edge of challenge as he went on. "And just because you think your decision is right doesn't mean that it is. As for the proposal, I don't have a doubt in my mind that you and my brother are deeply in love with each other and will make a deservedly happy couple for many years to come. But the timing reminded me a little distressingly of Angelo's misguided attempt last November to reassure Paige that he was always going to be there for her, so I was worried."

"He's allowed to have objections." Lorna pushed off the wall again, standing straight and gesturing sharply, "He's allowed to hate this. We risk our lives and we get nothing back but more pain, more heartache. I don't blame him for not wanting to see the people he loves come back broken over and over."

"Nothing? We get back nothing?" Scott raised an eyebrow. "Were those kids in Rio nothing? Or the ones in Chad? Or on Youra? Just to name a few instances off the top of my head... I could go on." He shook his head. "No one died in Seattle. Magneto didn't get his hands on a bunch of innocent young telepaths last month. You're right, Lorna. There's absolutely no return on any of our blood, sweat and tears. I don't know where my head's been all this time."

"I killed people because of this team."

"Because of the team? Okay, that clarifies things." Scott turned away. "I was wondering," he said back over his shoulder. "Whether it was because you blamed us, in the end. We are after all a handier target than Magneto."

"Before Magneto." Lorna clarified without moving. "In the warehouse, there was a plasma thrower. He's dead. That wasn't Magneto or Malice. That was me, in uniform. No mind control and no excuse."

"Bullshit, Lorna," Scott said, pausing briefly. "It's just another excuse. You didn't let that stop you from continuing with the team, or working until you were well-trained enough that you had a whole host of non-lethal options to deal with opponents trying to kill you."

"And now I have a whole range of much more efficient lethal ones. They're easier, they're safer, they'll keep these people from coming back again and again causing us trouble when we could just...make them not be anymore." Even though he wasn't looking at her, she shook her head violently. "You want that on your team? When that's what's in my head now?"

Scott turned around. "Nathan told me once about the assassination techniques he learned with Mistra," he said. "Causing strokes. Exploding internal organs. Different variations to make it look like different natural causes. And I would have him on my team any day and count myself lucky, because I trust him not to use them." He gave her a very level look, willing the itching behind his eye away. "I trust you not to use them either, even if you don't trust yourself. You hate what you did too much. You were learning this for what, two months? That's not enough time to make it instinct, and even if it was, instinct can be unlearned."

"I'm not Nathan. I'm not that good and certainly not that necessary." Lorna ran her hand through her damp hair, looking everywhere but Scott. "I...I can't do it, Cyclops. I tried to block it out, everything that he taught me. I don't want to use any of it. And I can't come back because of it."

"I can't give you back your self-esteem or your confidence," Scott said, thankful when the itching went away. "Or your faith in yourself. But you're talking yourself into a hole you're never going to pull yourself out of if you don't stop, Lorna. Make the decision not to come back, fine, but make it because you want a different life than this. Don't make it out of fear, because you'll never forgive yourself." He smiled faintly. "And you put that uniform on in Hawaii entirely too fast for me to believe that you wouldn't have regrets. It would suck, sister-to-be, if you spent the rest of your life knowing that you were less than you could have been."

Lorna closed her eyes and clenched her fist until she felt her ring bite into her hand. "I don't want to be a soldier. All I ever wanted growing up was to be my mother. Married, post-career. Normal." She sighed, "Secret military ops wasn't exactly in the cards."

"I think you lose illusions of normalcy the moment you look into a child's eyes and know you've helped save their life," Scott said, the faint smile still playing on his lips.

"That's why I joined the team. Because I thought it would make a difference. I don't know that I have." Lorna shrugged. "I'm sorry. I'm keeping you from...whatever it is."

"Now you're not being truthful with yourself again," Scott said, half-turning. "And really, you're not keeping me from much. I'm trying to decide whether his wrath when he gets home is worth the temporary respite of not calling Nathan in Kazakhstan to tell him that his uncle paid a visit to his wife today."

"Moira...is she all right?" Lorna shoved aside the discussion instantly, her eyes going wide for a second before she realized that obviously Moira was okay or Scott wouldn't be wondering about calling Nathan. There would already be a Nathan here, breathing fire. "What happened?"

"She's fine," Scott said reassuringly. "So's Rachel, and everyone else on Muir, or you would have seen the Blackbird making use of the afterburners hours ago." He gave her a long, thoughtful look. "Look," he said, "I know I haven't been easy on you here, but you know I'm right about some things, surely. You're too close to it all, still, and you are conflicted. I'm not urging you to get the leathers back on this instant. I just want you to be able to make the choice that's right for you... and right now, that's awfully hard."

"It doesn't really matter how conflicted I am." Which was the closest she'd come to admitting it, even to herself. "I promised Alex. And in a week, I'll be back in Hawaii, just your average college student. No point in even thinking about it."

Scott shook his head. He was, quite probably, talking to the wrong affianced person here. "Honest with yourself," he repeated to Lorna. "Because if you decide down the road that giving in to my brother's fears was the wrong thing to do and start resenting him for it, I may have to kick your ass. In a thoroughly fraternal fashion, of course," he said, and started back down the hall.

Lorna looked down at her ring then at Scott's receding back. "I knew you didn't want me to marry him."

Scott stopped. "Now who's pretending to be the mindreader?" he asked without turning around.

"I leave that to your wife." Lorna smirked slightly, "It's okay. You're allowed to think that he deserves better. That's what brothers are supposed to think."

Scott looked back over his shoulder. "He deserves to be happy with the person he loves, and who loves him. That would be you," he said, slowly and patiently. "But if it makes you feel better to cast this whole conversation in the light of that mistaken impression as to my opinion on the subject, Lorna... well, go right ahead. Just don't think it's a successful smokescreen."

She rolled her eyes, "I'm joking, Scott. If you didn't want me marrying him, you'd make it not happen. You probably have contingency plans for just that scenario." She sighed, "I should really shut up now."

"Yeah, your sense of humor is straying towards the odd and unfunny." Scott's hand abruptly shot up and covered his eye, the crease in his forehead enough to indicate that he was squeezing the eye shut tightly. "Okay, that was not actually directed at you," he said, still holding his hand over his eye. "Twitchy today and so the control's a little lacking."

"Liar. That was just the first contingency plan. You just don't want to tip me off." Lorna shrugged. "Besides, that's a bad idea. Can't block it but there's plenty around here that I can deflect it."

Scott wasn't really listening to what she said in response. He took a deep breath, then another, slowly straightening from the defensive hunch. It took him another long moment to lower his hand and open his eye.

"Gah. Now I've got a headache. Need to ask Moira when I get back if cutting off a blast like that has some correlation to the migraines... it certainly seems to."

"Yeah, probably." Lorna nodded at the ground, "You spilled your coffee too. Do you want me to get Jean for you?"

"No, I'm good." He straightened up a little farther, giving her a faintly ironic smile. "It's funny, you know. You want to stay out, and I would give anything to get back in."

"Nate broke his back. Betsy was blind. Jean was dead." Lorna raised an eyebrow at him, "If you can't at least get back to leading the team then you're not half the stubborn ass I thought you were, oh future brother o mine."

"Yes, but I want in now," Scott said, the smile growing in a little. "It's been a whole two months. I mean, surely I should have the whole powers-control thing down to a fine art in two months. I think I'm slacking off."

"Yes, Scott Summers, king of the slackers, all hail his mighty laziness. Tremble before his lack of works." She gave a half-laugh, the closest to genuine amusement she'd managed thus far. "And I'm a little teapot. Short and stout."

"Hush, or I'll tell terribly embarrassing stories about you at your wedding. That incident with the paperclips, maybe..."

"Oh, like we're going to invite you."