If it don't take two...
May. 29th, 2003 10:50 pmThursday evening...
Sam,
You've been moping all day. It's unnerving to see you like that, ball o' sunshine. You ok?
Al
Ps – tell anyone I signed like that, and I'll deny it to my dying day
~~
Al,
Yeah, I'm okay. Really. But, I dunno. I kinda wanted to talk with someone. You doin' anything after lunch today?
~Sammy
ps Don't worry, I won't tell. I value my life too much for that. ;)
~~
Sammy,
Meet you at the main doors at 8pm. Be there or be square!
Al
~*~
Alison sat down in the stairs, arms crosses loosely over her knees, a faint frown of worry creasing her brow as she waited for Sam to show up. Sammy. That is so cute. She winced, running a hand through her hair. Good God. I've got it bad. Grah. Shoot me now. She sighed tiredly, stretching out her arm experimentally and wincing at the protests the bruises put up. Yay for long sleeves.
Sam shuffled down to where Alison waited on the stairs, lost in his own thoughts. He wondered how he'd even bring it up, as he'd never had to talk to anyone about this kind of thing before, and he'd certainly never told anyone at school anything he wasn't 100 percent comfortable with. He saw the flash of blonde hair on the stairs and smiled a little, feeling better already. "Hey, Al...sorry I'm a little late."
Alison got up carefully, turning to smile at him, breath catching at the woebegone look about him. "I just got here myself," she said, repressing the urge to just reach out and hug him, "it's fine." She paused, stuffing her hands in her jean pockets just so she could make sure where they were at all times. "Why don't we head out on the grounds? Get out of here a bit, y'know?"
"Yeah. I could use the fresh air. 's been a while since I just went for a walk to the woods." He smiled, a little paler than usual, and started out on the path, deciding not to demand the hug he so sorely needed. "So. How was your day?"
"Mmm," she murmured in a non-committal way at they walked, deciding not to go into details about how the hand-to-hand combat classes just didn't seem to be improving much of anything. Telling him I'd just love to kiss him silly probably wouldn't go over too well either. Woe, she snorted, rolling her eyes at her own thoughts. "I've had better days. I've had worse ones too. But I'm ok, and I'm not what we came out here to talk about..." she trailed off, finally giving in to the urge to touch him by compromising with herself – she reached out and looped her un-bruised arm around his, leaning in a bit closer to him.
Sam was relieved, needing the contact. He leaned back, using her warmth as comfort and smiling a little at the loop of her arm against his side. "No, I guess you're not. I dunno. I just. Had a lot to think about, and it might help if I have someone else to listen."
Alison tightened her grip on his arm slightly, a faint feeling of foreboding edging her thoughts. Shrugging it off, she leaned her head on his shoulder, deciding to just enjoy what little she could have without questions. "That's what friends are for," she said, amazed at how easy she managed to make the words sound.
"Yeah..." he replied, almost wistfully. He nodded his head once, solidly. "And that's ALL they should be for." His voice sounded determined. "I know that now. Can't let things get carried away." He thought of Piotr. What was a valuable friend, now ...he didn't even know what. Still a friend, but. It wasn’t the same.
Alison looked down, breathing unevenly. The feeling of foreboding returned instantly at his words, and she took in a feathery breath, composing her features in a calm expression. Why did I offer to listen again? Oh yeah. Friends. I hate that word. She smiled shakily at first, then steadily, looking up at him. I don't want to do this. I don't want to ask. I really don't. "What did you need to talk about, Sammy?"
"I..." His voice was a little tremulous, and it sounded strange to him. "I did something stupid. Really stupid. And I think I ruined something that could have been so much more, and..." He stemed the flow of words.
"I think I - I think I'm in love."
Oh, Sam.
Breath lodged in her throat, she stared at the leaves rustling in the wind. If I could hate Piotr I would right now. And I can't even do that. And Sam doesn't know I know. I don't think I can deal with this. She shifted her right arm, stretching it out deliberately - no longer trying to avoid the physical pain, but seeking it out. I don't know anything right now actually. Brilliant. She twisted her arm a bit, unaware of her action but using the pain to as a focus.
"You think you're in love?" she asked calmly. Afraid of the answer, but firmly keeping any of the emotions roiling inside her from showing. Hanging on to anger without coherent reason to keep control, and try and keep anything at all from showing.
Shards of light flickered about the clearing briefly, jagged edges reflecting unpleasantly in the shadows of the trees.
"Yes," said Sam, shrugging self-consciously. "Well, I've never been in love before. I don't know what it feels like. But this really, really seems like it." His eyebrows furrowed, and he felt suddenly irritable as he spoke. Why would she even ask that question?! He'd SAID it, hadn't he?!
You knew this would happen, she reminded herself. You knew far too much about all of this to expect anything else. It didn't keep her from feeling as though she'd rather be anywhere but here right now, hearing anything but this. Anger simmered deep inside – anger at herself for allowing this to happen, anger at herself for thinking there might have been a way of stopping it. Anger at herself simply because she couldn't, for the life of her, be angry at Piotr or Sam over this.
I hate this.
"And how does Piotr feel?" she asked neutrally, wondering how she was still standing when it felt as though her lungs refused to draw in air, light glittering at the edge of her vision – but that happened when you couldn't breathe, she knew.
Sam stopped dead, gaping at her. "...What?!" He couldn't believe it. How could she possibly have known?! Piotr hadn't...TOLD her, had he? Oh, this is just fantastic! He dropped her arm, frowning. "What did you say?!"
Alison paused, drawing her arm to herself by reflex with a puzzle look. "I asked what Pi-" she stopped in mid-word, mouth open in a small "o". Oh my god. Eyes widening in apprehension she went paper white, looking up at Sam with a stunned look at the slip she'd just made.
His eyes went dark as he stared back at her, fists balling at his sides. His voice was eerily low and calm, with a tremor just underneath the surface. "Why? Why did you ask what Piotr thought? Have you been talking to him, Alison? What did he tell you?"
"He-" she paused, a knot forming in her throat, physically unable to speak for a moment at the look of mingled betrayal and pure anger on his face – neither emotion she'd ever seen or even associated with him before. Utterly unaware of anything but Sam, she never realized that the ambient lighting had increased – small patterns of light swirling uncontrollably about the both of them in increasing intensity. "Sammy, I-"
It didn't register in Sam's mind that something was definitely not right. All he could think about was pain and rage, and it didn't even occur to him that taking it out on Alison wasn't an option. The emotion blinded him, and he let it out. "Just... Just shut UP, Alison. I don't wanna hear your goddam explanations! The POINT is that I made a huge mistake, got my heart ripped out and trampled on by one of my best friends, and can't do SHIT about it! And now you tell me that random people know all about it?! What're you gonna do now? LAUGH at me, 'cause I'm some sissyboy faggot who can't sort out his feelin's? Go running to Kitty and Lorna and squeal to them about the Freak who's worse than all the others? Or did you ALREADY tell them? WHO HAVE YOU TOLD, ALISON?" He brought his face a foot away from hers, his breath coming heavily as his chest heaved with repressed violence.
Alison gaped at his words, any other feeling she might have had instantly replaced by pure blank fury. How kind of him to bring his face so close, she thought dimly, literally seeing red as she raised her first and delivered a solid right hook to his face, with a satisfying smack – shards of pain echoed from the bruises on her arm, briefly cutting through the red haze of anger. I just hit Sam, she thought dimly, backing away from him, gasping for breath. And I don't know if I care right now. Horror at her action dwindled rapidly under a renewed wave of rage. "You bastard. You - how could you say that!?" she snarled at him, losing any grasp she might have had on her temper as she backed a step away from him. "Is that all you think of me?" she stared at him venomously, taking another step backwards, eyes glowing dimly in the shadows surrounding them. "I can be a right bitch if I want to, Sam, I've never ever said otherwise. But I'm not that. I'm not that!" she hissed at him, unable to even find the right words.
Sam felt his heart breaking for the second time in two days the same moment he felt his face on fire with pain. Snarling, he spat blood from his mouth at Alison's feet. "That is JUST like you. You snotty, pretentious, has-been CUNT! You can't even TAKE the heat, and you KNOW it's true... so you just hit me instead of admitting it." Sam heaved difficult exhalations, squinting at Alison's face, painted in all the colors of fury. His disbelief that she would actually ever raise a hand against him turned into iron hate, of himself and his stupidity more than her. He failed to make the distinction and cracked his neck, wiping an arm across his bloody mouth. His thoughts ceased being coherent, and he advanced towards Alison, popping his knuckles, his normally warm voice heavy and his accent thicker than usual. "And I can't believe I ever considered you a friend. Shows me just how much I know."
A crescendo of agony joined the maelstrom of emotions raging within and she let out an inarticulate cry of protest, light sparking brightly into being between then - and then rocked back on her heels, horror cutting sharply through the rage, the realization that she'd actually considered using her mutant ability against Sam of all people, sending her straight back into iron cold sanity. Shaking like a leaf she regained control, cutting down on her power sharply all at once.
The clearing seemed suddenly plunged in darkness, and her shivering intensified. Eyes wide with panic and dread she gasped for air, trying to make sense of what had happened, wondering how things could have gotten so ugly, so very quickly.
Oh dear Lord in Heaven have mercy. What have I done? Tears spilling over as Sam stepped closer, she just closed her eyes and bowed her head, not even fighting to breathe anymore. And waited for the blow.
Sam raised his arm, fingers curled tightly into a steel fist. Steel fist. How appropriate. He felt the smoldering in his brain and his rent heart flooding into his limbs, the thermo-chemical energy beginning to seep out of his skin as a matter of habit, not loss of control. He saw the tears on her cheeks, and felt hot wetness on his own. Not knowing whether it was tears or blood, he grimaced at his own weakness, his own trust that he placed in someone as unworthy as Alison.
When all of a sudden, he was plunged into darkness. Where there was rage, there was instantly a gaping void. He felt empty, and weak. And saw, for the first time without a haze of raging hate, Alison. And the tears pouring down her cheeks. And her stance, recoiled in fear. Fear of what? Of...oh God. Of me.
What have I done? What's going on? Why...I don't understand this, I can't take it... Sam suddenly felt cold and alone, and dropped his fist with a wracking gasp. "Oh my God. Al. Alison." He reached out for her urgently, wanting to stop it. Wanting to understand.
She flinched, eyes flying open at the sound of his voice – and saw him reaching out for her, looking as lost and bereft as she felt. "I'm sorry," she whispered abjectly, wrapping her arms around herself trying to still the shivers coursing through her body. "Sam, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she closed her eyes once more, whispering the words over and over again as she started to cry in earnest, sobs tearing through her unforgivingly, knees giving away under her.
Sam gathered his scattered wits, trying to make sense of what just happened. He remembered exactly what he said, what he did. But he couldn't identify with it. He couldn't believe he felt those horrible things so powerfully, with all of himself. About her.
As she fell, his body snapped to attention. Sam shoved his arms forward to catch Alison before she slumped to the ground, her knees giving way under her. He clutched her sobbing form to himself, sitting with his back firmly against a tree for support.
Tears stung his eyes as he spoke softly to her, knowing that no matter what, he needed to make sure she knew it was all okay now. "No. Alison. Al. Don't be sorry, it's okay, shhh..." he whispered, stroking her hair lightly and trying to convey a sense of safety and comfort. How will she ever trust me again? What have I done? God please, if You're listening...please help me. Help us. Please.
"I don't know what happened...I didn't mean any of it," he floundered, searching desperately for the right words. " You'll be fine. We're okay. I'm sorry. Oh God help me...I'm so sorry. I," Sam choked back a sob. "I wouldn't ever say those things. Ever. You know I wouldn't. Al. Shhh...it's okay..."
She clung to him, trying to bury herself in the warmth of his body, feeling as though the only link to reality at the moment was the man holding her. She wept helplessly as he tried to comfort her. After everything that happened, as he still tried to comfort her. Shame, horror and longing mingled with dawning disgust for herself – and Alison cried for herself, and for him. And most of all for what she realized she had done to him.
"It was... my fault," she managed to utter between racking sobs, forcing herself to tell him even though the possible implications of the confession terrified her. I love you. I love you so much. How could I let that happen? How? "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she looked up from the cradle of his arms, and whimpered as she saw the slowly darkening bruise on the side of his mouth. She reached up to brush his cheek with a trembling hand. "I lost control. It – the lights" she shook her head, at a loss for words. "It hasn't happened in years," she chocked as her throat tightened, unable to step away from him, and settled for burying her face against his chest, hiding from the look in his eyes.
Sam took her hand in his, even that feather-light touch on his cheek painful. He entwined their fingers, feeling just from the tremors that ran through her body how precariously she was perching on reality. He knew that feeling, from way back in his memory, and so he tightened his arms around her to solidify for her the feeling that she was real. This was real. And that everything would work out.
"Alison...everyone loses control sometimes. It's alright... I just. I didn't know you could do that. I might've realized what was happening, I should've realized what was happening. Neither of us is to blame, it was just... Just an accident." He held his breathing steady, hoping the rhythm of the rise and fall of his chest would help calm her down and bring her back to herself.
"What... What made you lose control, baby? You okay? Sick? Hurt?" Sam was suddenly struck with a thought. Emotions. Strong, uncontrollable emotions often triggered unchecked mutant abilities. Oh Lord...it's what I said, isn't it? It's...she knew about it. She knew about me and she knew about Piotr and when I told her...she...God, please don't let her hate me. Please don't let her think I'm sinful and wrong, please...
Alison shook her head, shifting her body so she could lean against him fully, breathing in his scent – disbelief and relief warring at being forgiven so easily. I love you. She wrapped her free arm around his waist, scraping her knuckles against the tree he was leaning on and ending up bending her arm at an awkward angle ending under his shoulder blade instead – but holding on to him nonetheless. Don't even deserve you as a friend. She whispered, shaking her head as she spoke and unconsciously rubbing her cheek against him, not even aware of what she was saying anymore. Just hanging on and desperately hoping she hadn't broken their friendship, despite his reassuring words. Promising herself to never dare hope for more, ever again.
The words, though Sam only caught snippets of them, reassured him. She urgently whispered of friends and love, and Sam realized she must be as scared of what he would think of her as he was about what she might think of him. He embraced her tightly, the feeling of her cheek against him curiously soft and pleasing.
"Darlin'," he said, worried frowns ghosting across his lips. "You gonna be okay? You think you can stand up now? We really oughta get back. The professors need to know what happened."
He shifted his weight, trying to make her more comfortable. "You're shivering..." The concern in his voice was plainly evident. She wasn't answering his questions... What if she burned out?
"They probably know," she finally whispered hoarsely, stiffening against him in realization. "There's no way a telepath could have missed that," she added miserably, closing her eyes and stifling further sobs. "Especially not someone like the Professor..."
Alison froze briefly in Sam's arms, and then forced herself to relax – clearly Sam hadn't heard that. Sam's fine. I – it's over? she concentrated as best as she could to reply, Betsy's tutoring of the previous night helping her to focus. After a few moments she felt the presence at the back of her mind withdraw gently with a murmur of acquiescence.
I'm in so much trouble, she realized numbly. Sam's ok. I didn't – I stopped. Sammy's ok. That's all that matters. She sighed deeply, slumping into him bonelessly, exhaustion suddenly slamming into her and making her dizzy. "Sam? I think I'm tapped out."
Standing, he lifted Alison in his arms, smiling tiredly at her. "I'm sure y'are, after all that. It's okay. I gotcha." He walked back to the mansion on the path they came by, carrying her easily.
"You won't be in trouble. 'salright. They'll understand." He sighed deeply. "No worries, okay? Not about me, anyway. I'm fine."
He fell silent for a heavy moment. "Al? You know I didn't mean anything I said, right? That I've never said or done anything like that before. And that I won't. Ever again." The feeling he got, the sickened, slimy feeling, from being so cruel...it lingered in his stomach, and he willed it to go away. He wasn't sure part of that wasn't also his earlier problems, which he assumed were probably all but forgotten by the exhausted woman in his arms. He attempted to put those from his mind as well.
Arms slowly came up to wrap around his neck, and a forehead came to rest gently against his neck so as to not jar the bruise now fully formed on his face. "You were hurting and scared. And I scared you more. And hurt you more. I'm sorry," she whispered exhaustedly, locking her hands behind his neck with some effort. "I'll never be sorry enough. You came to me for comfort and I screwed that up so badly," her voice strangled on the last word, and she hid her face in the hollow of his neck. "It wasn't your fault. Sam, you're the last person I'd ever want to hurt," she added, refusing to cry even as she wished she could just hide from the world for the rest of her life.
Sam spoke softly, calmly, using his voice as he would to a frightened horse. Nothing he said was really of consequence, he hardly thought about the actual words. It was the tone that mattered. "Don't you fret, baby, I know you didn't mean it, that you don't want to hurt me. I'd tell you to forget it, but I know you ain't ever gonna be able to." He walked into the mansion with her cradled in his arms, her head resting at his neck as if it belonged there. He knew she'd never let him get her medical attention before himself so he allowed himself a little white lie to put her at ease. "I'm gonna take you to your room, okay...you just need some sleep. I'll go get my jaw looked at first, then get someone to come give you the once over."
A faint sigh answered him, as she closed her eyes and relaxed fully in his arms, a faint near unintelligible murmur escaping her lips.
"Trust you."
Sam,
You've been moping all day. It's unnerving to see you like that, ball o' sunshine. You ok?
Al
Ps – tell anyone I signed like that, and I'll deny it to my dying day
~~
Al,
Yeah, I'm okay. Really. But, I dunno. I kinda wanted to talk with someone. You doin' anything after lunch today?
~Sammy
ps Don't worry, I won't tell. I value my life too much for that. ;)
~~
Sammy,
Meet you at the main doors at 8pm. Be there or be square!
Al
~*~
Alison sat down in the stairs, arms crosses loosely over her knees, a faint frown of worry creasing her brow as she waited for Sam to show up. Sammy. That is so cute. She winced, running a hand through her hair. Good God. I've got it bad. Grah. Shoot me now. She sighed tiredly, stretching out her arm experimentally and wincing at the protests the bruises put up. Yay for long sleeves.
Sam shuffled down to where Alison waited on the stairs, lost in his own thoughts. He wondered how he'd even bring it up, as he'd never had to talk to anyone about this kind of thing before, and he'd certainly never told anyone at school anything he wasn't 100 percent comfortable with. He saw the flash of blonde hair on the stairs and smiled a little, feeling better already. "Hey, Al...sorry I'm a little late."
Alison got up carefully, turning to smile at him, breath catching at the woebegone look about him. "I just got here myself," she said, repressing the urge to just reach out and hug him, "it's fine." She paused, stuffing her hands in her jean pockets just so she could make sure where they were at all times. "Why don't we head out on the grounds? Get out of here a bit, y'know?"
"Yeah. I could use the fresh air. 's been a while since I just went for a walk to the woods." He smiled, a little paler than usual, and started out on the path, deciding not to demand the hug he so sorely needed. "So. How was your day?"
"Mmm," she murmured in a non-committal way at they walked, deciding not to go into details about how the hand-to-hand combat classes just didn't seem to be improving much of anything. Telling him I'd just love to kiss him silly probably wouldn't go over too well either. Woe, she snorted, rolling her eyes at her own thoughts. "I've had better days. I've had worse ones too. But I'm ok, and I'm not what we came out here to talk about..." she trailed off, finally giving in to the urge to touch him by compromising with herself – she reached out and looped her un-bruised arm around his, leaning in a bit closer to him.
Sam was relieved, needing the contact. He leaned back, using her warmth as comfort and smiling a little at the loop of her arm against his side. "No, I guess you're not. I dunno. I just. Had a lot to think about, and it might help if I have someone else to listen."
Alison tightened her grip on his arm slightly, a faint feeling of foreboding edging her thoughts. Shrugging it off, she leaned her head on his shoulder, deciding to just enjoy what little she could have without questions. "That's what friends are for," she said, amazed at how easy she managed to make the words sound.
"Yeah..." he replied, almost wistfully. He nodded his head once, solidly. "And that's ALL they should be for." His voice sounded determined. "I know that now. Can't let things get carried away." He thought of Piotr. What was a valuable friend, now ...he didn't even know what. Still a friend, but. It wasn’t the same.
Alison looked down, breathing unevenly. The feeling of foreboding returned instantly at his words, and she took in a feathery breath, composing her features in a calm expression. Why did I offer to listen again? Oh yeah. Friends. I hate that word. She smiled shakily at first, then steadily, looking up at him. I don't want to do this. I don't want to ask. I really don't. "What did you need to talk about, Sammy?"
"I..." His voice was a little tremulous, and it sounded strange to him. "I did something stupid. Really stupid. And I think I ruined something that could have been so much more, and..." He stemed the flow of words.
"I think I - I think I'm in love."
Oh, Sam.
Breath lodged in her throat, she stared at the leaves rustling in the wind. If I could hate Piotr I would right now. And I can't even do that. And Sam doesn't know I know. I don't think I can deal with this. She shifted her right arm, stretching it out deliberately - no longer trying to avoid the physical pain, but seeking it out. I don't know anything right now actually. Brilliant. She twisted her arm a bit, unaware of her action but using the pain to as a focus.
"You think you're in love?" she asked calmly. Afraid of the answer, but firmly keeping any of the emotions roiling inside her from showing. Hanging on to anger without coherent reason to keep control, and try and keep anything at all from showing.
Shards of light flickered about the clearing briefly, jagged edges reflecting unpleasantly in the shadows of the trees.
"Yes," said Sam, shrugging self-consciously. "Well, I've never been in love before. I don't know what it feels like. But this really, really seems like it." His eyebrows furrowed, and he felt suddenly irritable as he spoke. Why would she even ask that question?! He'd SAID it, hadn't he?!
You knew this would happen, she reminded herself. You knew far too much about all of this to expect anything else. It didn't keep her from feeling as though she'd rather be anywhere but here right now, hearing anything but this. Anger simmered deep inside – anger at herself for allowing this to happen, anger at herself for thinking there might have been a way of stopping it. Anger at herself simply because she couldn't, for the life of her, be angry at Piotr or Sam over this.
I hate this.
"And how does Piotr feel?" she asked neutrally, wondering how she was still standing when it felt as though her lungs refused to draw in air, light glittering at the edge of her vision – but that happened when you couldn't breathe, she knew.
Sam stopped dead, gaping at her. "...What?!" He couldn't believe it. How could she possibly have known?! Piotr hadn't...TOLD her, had he? Oh, this is just fantastic! He dropped her arm, frowning. "What did you say?!"
Alison paused, drawing her arm to herself by reflex with a puzzle look. "I asked what Pi-" she stopped in mid-word, mouth open in a small "o". Oh my god. Eyes widening in apprehension she went paper white, looking up at Sam with a stunned look at the slip she'd just made.
His eyes went dark as he stared back at her, fists balling at his sides. His voice was eerily low and calm, with a tremor just underneath the surface. "Why? Why did you ask what Piotr thought? Have you been talking to him, Alison? What did he tell you?"
"He-" she paused, a knot forming in her throat, physically unable to speak for a moment at the look of mingled betrayal and pure anger on his face – neither emotion she'd ever seen or even associated with him before. Utterly unaware of anything but Sam, she never realized that the ambient lighting had increased – small patterns of light swirling uncontrollably about the both of them in increasing intensity. "Sammy, I-"
It didn't register in Sam's mind that something was definitely not right. All he could think about was pain and rage, and it didn't even occur to him that taking it out on Alison wasn't an option. The emotion blinded him, and he let it out. "Just... Just shut UP, Alison. I don't wanna hear your goddam explanations! The POINT is that I made a huge mistake, got my heart ripped out and trampled on by one of my best friends, and can't do SHIT about it! And now you tell me that random people know all about it?! What're you gonna do now? LAUGH at me, 'cause I'm some sissyboy faggot who can't sort out his feelin's? Go running to Kitty and Lorna and squeal to them about the Freak who's worse than all the others? Or did you ALREADY tell them? WHO HAVE YOU TOLD, ALISON?" He brought his face a foot away from hers, his breath coming heavily as his chest heaved with repressed violence.
Alison gaped at his words, any other feeling she might have had instantly replaced by pure blank fury. How kind of him to bring his face so close, she thought dimly, literally seeing red as she raised her first and delivered a solid right hook to his face, with a satisfying smack – shards of pain echoed from the bruises on her arm, briefly cutting through the red haze of anger. I just hit Sam, she thought dimly, backing away from him, gasping for breath. And I don't know if I care right now. Horror at her action dwindled rapidly under a renewed wave of rage. "You bastard. You - how could you say that!?" she snarled at him, losing any grasp she might have had on her temper as she backed a step away from him. "Is that all you think of me?" she stared at him venomously, taking another step backwards, eyes glowing dimly in the shadows surrounding them. "I can be a right bitch if I want to, Sam, I've never ever said otherwise. But I'm not that. I'm not that!" she hissed at him, unable to even find the right words.
Sam felt his heart breaking for the second time in two days the same moment he felt his face on fire with pain. Snarling, he spat blood from his mouth at Alison's feet. "That is JUST like you. You snotty, pretentious, has-been CUNT! You can't even TAKE the heat, and you KNOW it's true... so you just hit me instead of admitting it." Sam heaved difficult exhalations, squinting at Alison's face, painted in all the colors of fury. His disbelief that she would actually ever raise a hand against him turned into iron hate, of himself and his stupidity more than her. He failed to make the distinction and cracked his neck, wiping an arm across his bloody mouth. His thoughts ceased being coherent, and he advanced towards Alison, popping his knuckles, his normally warm voice heavy and his accent thicker than usual. "And I can't believe I ever considered you a friend. Shows me just how much I know."
A crescendo of agony joined the maelstrom of emotions raging within and she let out an inarticulate cry of protest, light sparking brightly into being between then - and then rocked back on her heels, horror cutting sharply through the rage, the realization that she'd actually considered using her mutant ability against Sam of all people, sending her straight back into iron cold sanity. Shaking like a leaf she regained control, cutting down on her power sharply all at once.
The clearing seemed suddenly plunged in darkness, and her shivering intensified. Eyes wide with panic and dread she gasped for air, trying to make sense of what had happened, wondering how things could have gotten so ugly, so very quickly.
Oh dear Lord in Heaven have mercy. What have I done? Tears spilling over as Sam stepped closer, she just closed her eyes and bowed her head, not even fighting to breathe anymore. And waited for the blow.
Sam raised his arm, fingers curled tightly into a steel fist. Steel fist. How appropriate. He felt the smoldering in his brain and his rent heart flooding into his limbs, the thermo-chemical energy beginning to seep out of his skin as a matter of habit, not loss of control. He saw the tears on her cheeks, and felt hot wetness on his own. Not knowing whether it was tears or blood, he grimaced at his own weakness, his own trust that he placed in someone as unworthy as Alison.
When all of a sudden, he was plunged into darkness. Where there was rage, there was instantly a gaping void. He felt empty, and weak. And saw, for the first time without a haze of raging hate, Alison. And the tears pouring down her cheeks. And her stance, recoiled in fear. Fear of what? Of...oh God. Of me.
What have I done? What's going on? Why...I don't understand this, I can't take it... Sam suddenly felt cold and alone, and dropped his fist with a wracking gasp. "Oh my God. Al. Alison." He reached out for her urgently, wanting to stop it. Wanting to understand.
She flinched, eyes flying open at the sound of his voice – and saw him reaching out for her, looking as lost and bereft as she felt. "I'm sorry," she whispered abjectly, wrapping her arms around herself trying to still the shivers coursing through her body. "Sam, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she closed her eyes once more, whispering the words over and over again as she started to cry in earnest, sobs tearing through her unforgivingly, knees giving away under her.
Sam gathered his scattered wits, trying to make sense of what just happened. He remembered exactly what he said, what he did. But he couldn't identify with it. He couldn't believe he felt those horrible things so powerfully, with all of himself. About her.
As she fell, his body snapped to attention. Sam shoved his arms forward to catch Alison before she slumped to the ground, her knees giving way under her. He clutched her sobbing form to himself, sitting with his back firmly against a tree for support.
Tears stung his eyes as he spoke softly to her, knowing that no matter what, he needed to make sure she knew it was all okay now. "No. Alison. Al. Don't be sorry, it's okay, shhh..." he whispered, stroking her hair lightly and trying to convey a sense of safety and comfort. How will she ever trust me again? What have I done? God please, if You're listening...please help me. Help us. Please.
"I don't know what happened...I didn't mean any of it," he floundered, searching desperately for the right words. " You'll be fine. We're okay. I'm sorry. Oh God help me...I'm so sorry. I," Sam choked back a sob. "I wouldn't ever say those things. Ever. You know I wouldn't. Al. Shhh...it's okay..."
She clung to him, trying to bury herself in the warmth of his body, feeling as though the only link to reality at the moment was the man holding her. She wept helplessly as he tried to comfort her. After everything that happened, as he still tried to comfort her. Shame, horror and longing mingled with dawning disgust for herself – and Alison cried for herself, and for him. And most of all for what she realized she had done to him.
"It was... my fault," she managed to utter between racking sobs, forcing herself to tell him even though the possible implications of the confession terrified her. I love you. I love you so much. How could I let that happen? How? "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she looked up from the cradle of his arms, and whimpered as she saw the slowly darkening bruise on the side of his mouth. She reached up to brush his cheek with a trembling hand. "I lost control. It – the lights" she shook her head, at a loss for words. "It hasn't happened in years," she chocked as her throat tightened, unable to step away from him, and settled for burying her face against his chest, hiding from the look in his eyes.
Sam took her hand in his, even that feather-light touch on his cheek painful. He entwined their fingers, feeling just from the tremors that ran through her body how precariously she was perching on reality. He knew that feeling, from way back in his memory, and so he tightened his arms around her to solidify for her the feeling that she was real. This was real. And that everything would work out.
"Alison...everyone loses control sometimes. It's alright... I just. I didn't know you could do that. I might've realized what was happening, I should've realized what was happening. Neither of us is to blame, it was just... Just an accident." He held his breathing steady, hoping the rhythm of the rise and fall of his chest would help calm her down and bring her back to herself.
"What... What made you lose control, baby? You okay? Sick? Hurt?" Sam was suddenly struck with a thought. Emotions. Strong, uncontrollable emotions often triggered unchecked mutant abilities. Oh Lord...it's what I said, isn't it? It's...she knew about it. She knew about me and she knew about Piotr and when I told her...she...God, please don't let her hate me. Please don't let her think I'm sinful and wrong, please...
Alison shook her head, shifting her body so she could lean against him fully, breathing in his scent – disbelief and relief warring at being forgiven so easily. I love you. She wrapped her free arm around his waist, scraping her knuckles against the tree he was leaning on and ending up bending her arm at an awkward angle ending under his shoulder blade instead – but holding on to him nonetheless. Don't even deserve you as a friend. She whispered, shaking her head as she spoke and unconsciously rubbing her cheek against him, not even aware of what she was saying anymore. Just hanging on and desperately hoping she hadn't broken their friendship, despite his reassuring words. Promising herself to never dare hope for more, ever again.
The words, though Sam only caught snippets of them, reassured him. She urgently whispered of friends and love, and Sam realized she must be as scared of what he would think of her as he was about what she might think of him. He embraced her tightly, the feeling of her cheek against him curiously soft and pleasing.
"Darlin'," he said, worried frowns ghosting across his lips. "You gonna be okay? You think you can stand up now? We really oughta get back. The professors need to know what happened."
He shifted his weight, trying to make her more comfortable. "You're shivering..." The concern in his voice was plainly evident. She wasn't answering his questions... What if she burned out?
"They probably know," she finally whispered hoarsely, stiffening against him in realization. "There's no way a telepath could have missed that," she added miserably, closing her eyes and stifling further sobs. "Especially not someone like the Professor..."
Seated in his office, Xavier felt the wave of mental power wash over him. He blinked, reaching tentatively out, and felt the presence that was Alison, the energy crackling around her. He sensed, in the radiating thoughts which she is having trouble keeping under control, his own name, and reached into her mind. *Alison?*
Alison froze briefly in Sam's arms, and then forced herself to relax – clearly Sam hadn't heard that. Sam's fine. I – it's over? she concentrated as best as she could to reply, Betsy's tutoring of the previous night helping her to focus. After a few moments she felt the presence at the back of her mind withdraw gently with a murmur of acquiescence.
I'm in so much trouble, she realized numbly. Sam's ok. I didn't – I stopped. Sammy's ok. That's all that matters. She sighed deeply, slumping into him bonelessly, exhaustion suddenly slamming into her and making her dizzy. "Sam? I think I'm tapped out."
Standing, he lifted Alison in his arms, smiling tiredly at her. "I'm sure y'are, after all that. It's okay. I gotcha." He walked back to the mansion on the path they came by, carrying her easily.
"You won't be in trouble. 'salright. They'll understand." He sighed deeply. "No worries, okay? Not about me, anyway. I'm fine."
He fell silent for a heavy moment. "Al? You know I didn't mean anything I said, right? That I've never said or done anything like that before. And that I won't. Ever again." The feeling he got, the sickened, slimy feeling, from being so cruel...it lingered in his stomach, and he willed it to go away. He wasn't sure part of that wasn't also his earlier problems, which he assumed were probably all but forgotten by the exhausted woman in his arms. He attempted to put those from his mind as well.
Arms slowly came up to wrap around his neck, and a forehead came to rest gently against his neck so as to not jar the bruise now fully formed on his face. "You were hurting and scared. And I scared you more. And hurt you more. I'm sorry," she whispered exhaustedly, locking her hands behind his neck with some effort. "I'll never be sorry enough. You came to me for comfort and I screwed that up so badly," her voice strangled on the last word, and she hid her face in the hollow of his neck. "It wasn't your fault. Sam, you're the last person I'd ever want to hurt," she added, refusing to cry even as she wished she could just hide from the world for the rest of her life.
Sam spoke softly, calmly, using his voice as he would to a frightened horse. Nothing he said was really of consequence, he hardly thought about the actual words. It was the tone that mattered. "Don't you fret, baby, I know you didn't mean it, that you don't want to hurt me. I'd tell you to forget it, but I know you ain't ever gonna be able to." He walked into the mansion with her cradled in his arms, her head resting at his neck as if it belonged there. He knew she'd never let him get her medical attention before himself so he allowed himself a little white lie to put her at ease. "I'm gonna take you to your room, okay...you just need some sleep. I'll go get my jaw looked at first, then get someone to come give you the once over."
A faint sigh answered him, as she closed her eyes and relaxed fully in his arms, a faint near unintelligible murmur escaping her lips.
"Trust you."
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Date: 2003-05-29 08:33 pm (UTC)And oh, the angst.. *cuddles them both*
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Date: 2003-05-29 08:35 pm (UTC)<3333!
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Date: 2003-05-29 08:36 pm (UTC)*purrs*
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Date: 2003-05-29 08:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-05-29 09:27 pm (UTC)<33333!
You've no idea how weird it is to see "Wah. Huggage." attached to Jono's username and icon. ;)
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Date: 2003-05-29 09:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-05-29 09:34 pm (UTC)*grins and huggles back*
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Date: 2003-05-29 09:46 pm (UTC)Re:
Date: 2003-05-29 09:51 pm (UTC)I'll take you up on that.
*accepts challenge*
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Date: 2003-05-29 09:58 pm (UTC)(meanwhile, good lord, I hope Sam and Ali will be cheered by Jamie scrambling furiously to avoid the wrath of heaven tomorrow, because something needs to give, here. I believe the accepted term in these parts is "Wah.")
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Date: 2003-05-29 10:01 pm (UTC)(Heh! Here, birdie birdie!)
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Date: 2003-05-29 10:30 pm (UTC)Luckily, Warren's in a good mood lately. Which is, in a way, what this is all about. :)
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Date: 2003-05-30 04:10 am (UTC)Stable guy? I love you, but argh.
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Date: 2003-05-30 04:36 am (UTC)IT WAS ALL HER FAULT!
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Date: 2003-05-30 04:57 am (UTC)Re:
Date: 2003-05-30 06:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-05-30 11:21 am (UTC)Re:
Date: 2003-05-30 11:42 am (UTC);)
*offers cuddle*
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Date: 2003-05-30 07:44 pm (UTC);)
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Date: 2003-05-30 09:28 pm (UTC)Letch. ;)
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Date: 2003-05-30 10:29 am (UTC)Re:
Date: 2003-05-30 10:40 am (UTC)Re:
Date: 2003-05-30 05:13 pm (UTC)Re:
Date: 2003-05-30 09:17 pm (UTC)