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xp_logs2006-10-25 06:34 pm
x-siryn.livejournal.com) wrote in xp_logs2006-10-25 06:34 pm
Entry tags:
Scott, Terry, infirmary
Scott finds Terry fretting down in the infirmary and gives her an explanation and some morale support.
There wasn't anything for her to do down here. Dr. Voght had told her as much and even ordered her out of the infirmary on more than one occasion but it had yet to actually rouse Terry from her self-imposed vigil. She had finally given up on trying to sleep downstairs and gone back to the room she shared with Bobby but that was only for a few hours at a time.
But even though there was no reason for her to be down here, Terry couldn't leave. Not while Bobby was still that eerie shady of almost translucent blue. Paige and Moira had worked out a switch shift, allowing Moira to still attend to her concerns in Scotland while Paige stayed with Bobby and continued her study of how exactly Bobby had managed to turn himself to ice. His spirits were good at least--still nervous but apparently optimistic. Terry tried to fake the same for him though she wasn't sure he believed it.
She'd excused herself when she'd felt the tears threatening again and went to get a cup of tea. Coffee was all well and good but real crises called for tea--black as night and strong enough to win a battle on its own. Terry curled up on the lone sofa in what passed for the infirmary waiting room and tried to pull herself together.
"Hello, Terry." Scott's voice came from the doorway, and he stayed there, not moving forward into the room as he regarded her, his expression calm but grave.
Terry looked up from her tea, startled. It was rare that anyone came upon her without her noticing it. Hard to be totally silent after all. She flushed when she realized that she was too involved in herself. "Mr. Summers. Um...hi. I..." She stopped, realizing she was stammering like a guilty child. "Hi," she tried again, lamely.
"You've been spending an awful lot of time down here, Amelia tells me," Scott said, finally coming in. Not over to sit beside her, however. "I'm sure Bobby appreciates the company."
"She keeps telling me to go away. He's bored, mostly." Terry said quietly, shrugging, "He's not hurt. They don't need me here. It's not like I can do anything to help him. I'm not a genius like Paige."
"You realize that if he was hurt, she'd be... well, she might still tell you to go away occasionally, but probably less often. This is a powers incident," Scott said, "nothing more. We always knew Bobby had a lot of potential he hadn't explored." He smiled very faintly. "I didn't set up that scenario intending to force him to do that, but there's nothing wrong with killing two birds with one stone."
Terry's hand stole up to the chain around her neck, finger sliding through the ring hanging from it. "You did set us up to fail though, right? We weren't supposed to be able to get through it?" She didn't know what answer she was hoping to hear.
"There was always the chance that you could have surprised me. But I expected you to fail, yes." Scott sighed, folding his arms across his chest. "The two of you brushed off the issue of fighting side by side when I first brought it up. Tackling when it happens? Is unacceptable. Because whatever you think you know about what it would be like to see your spouse die in front of you, you have no idea what it would really be like. It's not something you can take in stride."
She looked down at her knees, at the cup of tea balanced there and the reflection of the lights overhead in its inky surface. "Aye, so you've made that point. Now what? Presuming he's able to change back," He would. He had to. She couldn't let herself believe otherwise, "what shall we do about that? There's not many options for us preventing it happening. Unless one of us quits."
"You decide whether it's worth it or not. Whether you're determined enough to overcome the possibility of having to watch your spouse die in front of your eyes. That's not a choice that anyone but you and Bobby can make."
"You don't think we can?" It wanted to be a statement but Terry couldn't manage it. She'd spent half her life looking up to Scott. His opinion, still, meant more to her than nearly anyone else.
"Oh, I think you can. If you decide you want to." Scott finally sat down in one of the chairs. "I just don't think that even something like this will prepare you for what could happen. It might give you some idea of just how hard it would be, and some of the practical difficulties..." He stopped, shrugged a bit uneasily. "You take it one day at a time. But you never, ever forget that you can lose it all in an instant."
"Mr. Summers... what do I do if he doesn't change back? What if he's stuck like this forever?" She looked up at him, just for a moment then back down at her tea, like it could protect her from bad news.
"I don't think that's very likely, from what Moira's told me. This is just a level of his powers he's never reached before. It may take a while to figure out the best way for him to turn himself back, but you couldn't have anyone better on the case."
"He's..." Terry pulled a fist to her stomach, flattened her hand out, "There was this gouge in him. He's not hurt, but...what happens when he changes back?" These were the same questions she'd been asking herself for five days. She hadn't quite the courage to ask the doctors what they thought.
"Think about it for a moment, Terry," Scott said very calmly. "Don't you think there's a reason that none of the doctors have tried to push Bobby to turn back just yet? He manipulates ice, and while he's in this... ice-form, with that gouge, he can presumably fix that."
"But he's not really ice. He's a person. And people aren't just water." Except that right now he was. For a sudden, absurd moment, Terry wondered if the Catholic Church would refuse to marry a man made of water.
"Terry, I won't tell you not to worry," Scott said, more gently. "But Moira's convinced that he can fix all of this himself. It's a confidence issue, not surprisingly..."
She sniffled and gripped the ring again. "How long? How long is he going to be like this? We..." she cut herself off. It would be cruel to talk about the wedding to Scott. "I mean, I have a thing. This Friday. And...I don’t know if I should cancel it but I can't just go while he's like this."
"You should. Terry, this isn't some unspeakable disaster. He's alive, he's not hurt, he's in full possession of his faculties. Once he sorts out how to change himself back, the two of you can pick right up where you left off with your lives." Scott shrugged, although the gesture wasn't quite casual. "You should look at whatever this is as a way of telling him that you know he'll be back to normal."
"It's, um, a gig. At this jazz club." She bit her lip, "It just seems like a silly thing to be doing when my husband is a giant ice cube."
Scott shrugged again, smiling a bit. "Your giant ice cube would probably tell you to go ahead, you realize. You should ask him."
She smiled back involuntarily. Scott was right; Bobby probably would tell her to go. He knew exactly how much she liked performing at Immerse. "I should. If he's okay with it..." Terry glanced down the hall then back to Scott. "I'm sorry, Mr. Summers. I...haven't been very nice to you recently."
"You don't owe me any apologies, Terry. A lot's happened... you just focus on making the right choices for you when it comes to all of this, okay?" He gave another faint smile. "It's all anyone can ask. I want you to be happy. And Charles," he said a bit more briskly, "told me to remind you that you can come and speak to him about all of this. How to find a balance, if you're going to do that. Jean and I spent a lot of time talking to him about it, years ago." It was a minor miracle he got that last sentence out without the slightest alteration in his expression.
Terry nodded solemnly, wanting to ask how they'd managed but afraid. If felt like she'd been avoiding the subject of Jean for months and the thought of her for longer than that. "Aye, thank you. I'll...we'll do that."
"He'll have the tea waiting if you give him some warning." Scott rose. "In fact, I happen to know he has office hours right now. It might be a better way to spend an hour. Rather than sitting down here."
Her own tea was cold and Scott's suggestion carried the weight of an order. Terry sighed and nodded. "Thanks, Mr. Summers." She set her cup aside and stood then turned back to him, blinking, "Did you come down here just to talk to me?"
"I've needed to do that for a few days now. And Amelia wanted me to come down to talk about something else, too. Two birds with one stone," Scott said lightly.
"Oh. Okay." Terry was vaguely disappointed but covered it easily. "Um, I'm going to go now. Tell Dr. Voght I'll be back soon if he asks for me?"
"I will." He laid a hand briefly on her shoulder, squeezing gently, when she was close enough to do that. "It'll be all right, Terry."
"Sure it will," she agreed automatically, forcing a smile. "Best doctors in the world, right? I just wish it was already over so things could get back to normal." With a sigh and another little shrug, Terry moved gently away from Scott then dashed off to go talk to the Professor.
There wasn't anything for her to do down here. Dr. Voght had told her as much and even ordered her out of the infirmary on more than one occasion but it had yet to actually rouse Terry from her self-imposed vigil. She had finally given up on trying to sleep downstairs and gone back to the room she shared with Bobby but that was only for a few hours at a time.
But even though there was no reason for her to be down here, Terry couldn't leave. Not while Bobby was still that eerie shady of almost translucent blue. Paige and Moira had worked out a switch shift, allowing Moira to still attend to her concerns in Scotland while Paige stayed with Bobby and continued her study of how exactly Bobby had managed to turn himself to ice. His spirits were good at least--still nervous but apparently optimistic. Terry tried to fake the same for him though she wasn't sure he believed it.
She'd excused herself when she'd felt the tears threatening again and went to get a cup of tea. Coffee was all well and good but real crises called for tea--black as night and strong enough to win a battle on its own. Terry curled up on the lone sofa in what passed for the infirmary waiting room and tried to pull herself together.
"Hello, Terry." Scott's voice came from the doorway, and he stayed there, not moving forward into the room as he regarded her, his expression calm but grave.
Terry looked up from her tea, startled. It was rare that anyone came upon her without her noticing it. Hard to be totally silent after all. She flushed when she realized that she was too involved in herself. "Mr. Summers. Um...hi. I..." She stopped, realizing she was stammering like a guilty child. "Hi," she tried again, lamely.
"You've been spending an awful lot of time down here, Amelia tells me," Scott said, finally coming in. Not over to sit beside her, however. "I'm sure Bobby appreciates the company."
"She keeps telling me to go away. He's bored, mostly." Terry said quietly, shrugging, "He's not hurt. They don't need me here. It's not like I can do anything to help him. I'm not a genius like Paige."
"You realize that if he was hurt, she'd be... well, she might still tell you to go away occasionally, but probably less often. This is a powers incident," Scott said, "nothing more. We always knew Bobby had a lot of potential he hadn't explored." He smiled very faintly. "I didn't set up that scenario intending to force him to do that, but there's nothing wrong with killing two birds with one stone."
Terry's hand stole up to the chain around her neck, finger sliding through the ring hanging from it. "You did set us up to fail though, right? We weren't supposed to be able to get through it?" She didn't know what answer she was hoping to hear.
"There was always the chance that you could have surprised me. But I expected you to fail, yes." Scott sighed, folding his arms across his chest. "The two of you brushed off the issue of fighting side by side when I first brought it up. Tackling when it happens? Is unacceptable. Because whatever you think you know about what it would be like to see your spouse die in front of you, you have no idea what it would really be like. It's not something you can take in stride."
She looked down at her knees, at the cup of tea balanced there and the reflection of the lights overhead in its inky surface. "Aye, so you've made that point. Now what? Presuming he's able to change back," He would. He had to. She couldn't let herself believe otherwise, "what shall we do about that? There's not many options for us preventing it happening. Unless one of us quits."
"You decide whether it's worth it or not. Whether you're determined enough to overcome the possibility of having to watch your spouse die in front of your eyes. That's not a choice that anyone but you and Bobby can make."
"You don't think we can?" It wanted to be a statement but Terry couldn't manage it. She'd spent half her life looking up to Scott. His opinion, still, meant more to her than nearly anyone else.
"Oh, I think you can. If you decide you want to." Scott finally sat down in one of the chairs. "I just don't think that even something like this will prepare you for what could happen. It might give you some idea of just how hard it would be, and some of the practical difficulties..." He stopped, shrugged a bit uneasily. "You take it one day at a time. But you never, ever forget that you can lose it all in an instant."
"Mr. Summers... what do I do if he doesn't change back? What if he's stuck like this forever?" She looked up at him, just for a moment then back down at her tea, like it could protect her from bad news.
"I don't think that's very likely, from what Moira's told me. This is just a level of his powers he's never reached before. It may take a while to figure out the best way for him to turn himself back, but you couldn't have anyone better on the case."
"He's..." Terry pulled a fist to her stomach, flattened her hand out, "There was this gouge in him. He's not hurt, but...what happens when he changes back?" These were the same questions she'd been asking herself for five days. She hadn't quite the courage to ask the doctors what they thought.
"Think about it for a moment, Terry," Scott said very calmly. "Don't you think there's a reason that none of the doctors have tried to push Bobby to turn back just yet? He manipulates ice, and while he's in this... ice-form, with that gouge, he can presumably fix that."
"But he's not really ice. He's a person. And people aren't just water." Except that right now he was. For a sudden, absurd moment, Terry wondered if the Catholic Church would refuse to marry a man made of water.
"Terry, I won't tell you not to worry," Scott said, more gently. "But Moira's convinced that he can fix all of this himself. It's a confidence issue, not surprisingly..."
She sniffled and gripped the ring again. "How long? How long is he going to be like this? We..." she cut herself off. It would be cruel to talk about the wedding to Scott. "I mean, I have a thing. This Friday. And...I don’t know if I should cancel it but I can't just go while he's like this."
"You should. Terry, this isn't some unspeakable disaster. He's alive, he's not hurt, he's in full possession of his faculties. Once he sorts out how to change himself back, the two of you can pick right up where you left off with your lives." Scott shrugged, although the gesture wasn't quite casual. "You should look at whatever this is as a way of telling him that you know he'll be back to normal."
"It's, um, a gig. At this jazz club." She bit her lip, "It just seems like a silly thing to be doing when my husband is a giant ice cube."
Scott shrugged again, smiling a bit. "Your giant ice cube would probably tell you to go ahead, you realize. You should ask him."
She smiled back involuntarily. Scott was right; Bobby probably would tell her to go. He knew exactly how much she liked performing at Immerse. "I should. If he's okay with it..." Terry glanced down the hall then back to Scott. "I'm sorry, Mr. Summers. I...haven't been very nice to you recently."
"You don't owe me any apologies, Terry. A lot's happened... you just focus on making the right choices for you when it comes to all of this, okay?" He gave another faint smile. "It's all anyone can ask. I want you to be happy. And Charles," he said a bit more briskly, "told me to remind you that you can come and speak to him about all of this. How to find a balance, if you're going to do that. Jean and I spent a lot of time talking to him about it, years ago." It was a minor miracle he got that last sentence out without the slightest alteration in his expression.
Terry nodded solemnly, wanting to ask how they'd managed but afraid. If felt like she'd been avoiding the subject of Jean for months and the thought of her for longer than that. "Aye, thank you. I'll...we'll do that."
"He'll have the tea waiting if you give him some warning." Scott rose. "In fact, I happen to know he has office hours right now. It might be a better way to spend an hour. Rather than sitting down here."
Her own tea was cold and Scott's suggestion carried the weight of an order. Terry sighed and nodded. "Thanks, Mr. Summers." She set her cup aside and stood then turned back to him, blinking, "Did you come down here just to talk to me?"
"I've needed to do that for a few days now. And Amelia wanted me to come down to talk about something else, too. Two birds with one stone," Scott said lightly.
"Oh. Okay." Terry was vaguely disappointed but covered it easily. "Um, I'm going to go now. Tell Dr. Voght I'll be back soon if he asks for me?"
"I will." He laid a hand briefly on her shoulder, squeezing gently, when she was close enough to do that. "It'll be all right, Terry."
"Sure it will," she agreed automatically, forcing a smile. "Best doctors in the world, right? I just wish it was already over so things could get back to normal." With a sigh and another little shrug, Terry moved gently away from Scott then dashed off to go talk to the Professor.