xp_logs | Scott and Terry, Greenhouse (Reply)

Being injured makes you popular. Scott gets another visitor to his greenhouse hospital bed. This one brings entertainment.

Terry was fairly certain that Ororo would forgive her the single red rose she'd snipped off and slid into her hair. Or at least, she'd overlook it in favor of scolding the redhead for sneaking into the greenhouse in the first place--Patience in one hand--and stealing over to the bed set up in the sun and heat. She paused just out of the earshot of anyone not a Cassidy and slipped Patience around her neck, taking a moment to listen intently and determine that the shallow breathing from the bed probably wasn't deep sleep, just dozing at most, maybe not sleep at all. She crept over and perched on a chair, peering at Scott's face.

It was probably not a good thing that he was as hyper-aware of movement around him as he seemed to be, especially given that his head was still fuzzy - he was going to hate to see just how twitchy he was when that was no longer the case - but Scott relaxed as he opened his eyes and saw that it was Terry. "Careful," he murmured tiredly. "Amelia catches you up here, she's liable to teleport you into the lake..."

Terry grinned at him, pleased that she'd been right and settled back in the chair, "You wouldn't be telling on me though. I've faith in you, Mr. Summers." She strummed a trill on Patience. "Besides, music is good for healing. They've done studies." Probably. That was the kind of studies that doctors did and besides, music was good for plants and if it was good enough for plants, it would be soothing for her teacher. Who had come back and that was really the important part.

"You came up here to play for me?" He summoned up a weary flicker of a smile. "Thanks, Terry... that'd be nice." Nothing to think about, nothing to do but listen... it was almost overwhelmingly appealing, thinking about it.

Terry smiled at him, bright blue eyes doing a quick assessment of his condition. She couldn't read the monitors but she didn't need to in order to read the exhaustion on his face, the too pale skin and the too sharp way he watched everything. She remembered what Nathan had said and was determined to do everything right. "Tis nothing. Patience loves to perform."

The redhead curled over her guitar and strummed the first thing that came to mind, laughing softly at her subconscious. "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine..."

The smile came back, lingering until she'd finished her song, although his eyes were closed. "Do I get to make requests?" he murmured when she paused. "Although anything lullaby-ish would probably put me right back to sleep... and I don't want to go to sleep."

"Sure and I'll sing you whatever you'd like to hear. But you have to protect me if Dr. Voght or Ms. Munroe scolds me for keeping you up." The fact that he'd be protecting her while lying in a hospital bed and connected to half a dozen machines didn't actually strike her as odd. This was Scott after all.

"Mmm." Scott didn't offer up any suggestions, though. Not just yet. He shifted on the bed, hiding the wince as he pushed himself a little farther upright; Amelia had adjusted the angle of bed when he'd asked her, earlier. Lying flat bothered him. He didn't like thinking about why. He narrowed his eyes, trying to get his vision to focus properly on the redhead sitting on the stool watching him. "You okay?" he asked after a long moment.

Terry started a little in surprise, blinking, "Aye. I'm great. Bobby's gone right now but he sends emails." She twirled a lock of hair around her fingers, watching him and trying to decide if she should help him sit up or stay back and let him do it himself, "Do I not look all right?"

"You have a flower in your hair." Scott paused, blinking. "Not that it makes you look not all right..." He sighed, rubbing at his eye. "I'm not thinking straight. Ignore me. Guess I was... I hallucinated you, when I was there. You were in leathers. But little."

"Aye? So you're not used to me being grown up, then." Terry touched the rose lightly then plucked it out of her hair and offered it to him, "I'm nearly 18, you know," she teased lightly, not letting his distress upset her and trying to keep him from being upset by the memory as well.

Scott reached out and took the flower, unintentionally giving Terry a very clear view of the marks on his wrist from the restraints and the small, still-raw electrical burns on his arm. "Nathan was up earlier," he said after a moment, blinking down at the rose as if he was still having trouble focusing. "Told me you'd sat coms with him a few times..."

She wasn't able to hide the wince when she saw the burns. Luckily he seemed to be focused on the flower not on her so her distress went unnoticed. "Aye. There wasn't much else I could do. Clarice was able to go out but I mostly stayed here." Terry took Patience off and leaned her carefully against the stool, leaning forward. "Is something the matter, Mr. Summers?"

"I'm just... I don't feel very well, Terry, and it's so hard to focus..." He looked up at her with a weak smile. "That doesn't mean 'go away'. I'm just... not particularly good company right now, I guess." The rose had a surprisingly delicate fragrance. "I'm still trying to remember that this is all real," he said, almost inaudibly. "Helps to be able to touch it..."

Terry bit her lip, glad he still wasn't looking at her. Silently, she reached forward and touched his cheek softly, like she had when she was little. Hopefully he would be okay with it. "Aye, I know," she said quietly.

Scott's throat felt very tight suddenly and he just gazed up at her. Not wanting to pull away, because he knew that would hurt her, and he thought he'd hurt enough people's feelings this week. Not wanting to pull away for other reasons, too, and he raised a hand to cover hers for just a moment, little more than a pat before it fell back to the bed.

She brushed his hair back from his face then drew back. It had been a long time since she'd done that, sought the reassurance of his permanence by touch. It must have been his mention of her as little that sparked it. "Nathan said I should just wait. Not leave unless you ask me to." Terry wasn't going anywhere. He needed to know that.

"I don't want you to go," Scott whispered, and closed his eyes. "Just... play for me? Can't think of what. Just... something happy, maybe." His lips twitched again in a brief smile. "Not... peppy. Just happy."

Terry paused, hoping her subconscious would provide her with another appropriate song and instead being offered up a plethora of traditional Irish ballads. Beautiful but rarely happy. She picked up Patience slowly, letting her mind drift and finally plucking out a few notes. "I see trees of green, red roses too. I see them bloom for me and for you and I think to myself, 'what a wonderful world.'"

Scott's eyes were open again when she finished the song, open and staring up through the glass at the sky. There was still a considerable amount of tension in the way that he laid there, but his expression was calmer, a little smoother. "You're spoiling me," he said after a moment.

"Sure and you deserve a little spoiling," Terry replied, not bothering to deny it. Really this was as much for her as for him, feeling like she was doing something that would make a difference. "It's a little enough thing, just a couple songs. I can't bring my harp down here so you'll have to forgive my mistakes."

"I like music," he said, a bit distantly. "Now, I mean. Just kind of... covers up all the other noises." His forehead creased. Did he really want to be talking about this with Terry? He was really trying to sound less incoherent, after all.

Terry bent over Patience and started to pick out a melody, letting her fingers find the song rather than trying to play something in particular. "What sort of other noises are those, Mr. Summers?"

When all else failed, explain coherently, maybe? "When I was... when I was back there, they had my eyes covered. The whole time. I kept trying to focus on... sounds, to figure out what was going on around me. It worked, a little. Then.." He swallowed, his throat dry. "They started adding sounds. Things that didn't make any sense. I got... really confused."

Terry paled a little, fingers faltering on the strings for a moment. "Aye, I can imagine that you would. There's a lot of strange noise pollution out there."

"So music's good. It's noise, but it's good noise," Scott said a bit foggily. Because the silence was almost as bad. "Especially things that I know."

"Things that you know, all right." Terry thought for a minute then switched to Clapton. Everyone liked 'Layla'. It was a rule. "I don't mind staying and playing for you. I don't have anything else to do today." All too true. Until she started classes the only thing Terry had to do was training, sit com duty and play music. Some days she felt utterly useless.

Scott's eyes were closing again as she finished the song. "You and me... saxophone and guitar, maybe? When I... when I can play again," he amended.

Terry smiled, knowing he'd hear it in her voice, "I'd like that. I'd like that a lot. You should get some rest now before Dr. Voght finds me here and accuses me of keeping you up."

"Okay." Scott turned his head on the pillow, visibly relaxing a little further. "Don't have to go just yet, though," he pointed out, his eyes very definitely closed and staying closed at this point.

Terry didn't, just kept playing, watching him sleep until Amelia showed up to chase her out.