Log: Laurie and Haller

[x-wallflower-.livejournal.com]

Backdated to Wednesday, April 29th 2015.

Laurie goes to check on Haller, now that she knows he's back. They both spectacularly fail at taking care of themselves while simultaneously trying to take care of someone else.



Laurie knocked lightly on the door of Haller's office. While she wanted to talk to him, she was also aware that he wasn't entirely himself - best not to startle the man with telekinesis.

"Haller, are you welcoming of company right now?"

The door opened under Laurie's hand of its own accord, followed by a perfunctory "Come in."

Haller was seated at his desk, an open laptop in front of him and papers stacked neatly to either side. When he saw who it was he smiled faintly, though only with his mouth.

"Hey, Laurie."

"Are they keeping you busy?"

Laurie had noted the smile, and the lack of true happiness. Haller had always been difficult to read but you could usually tell by his eye colour who was in residence. It was strange that he was using telekinesis when there was no real sign that he was Jack currently.

"I'm helping out with Scott and Charles' paperwork. It's a good way to familiarize myself with what we're working with now." His too-pale blue eyes slid down to her maimed arm. "Speaking of adjusting, how are you doing?"

"It's a work in progress. Doug and Emma are helping me build a bionic arm, but it'll take months of physical therapy before I'm truly comfortable. And you? I can't help but notice you're not quite yourself."

Haller's eyebrow arched in a familiar way. "You're dismissing a life-changing injury a little quickly there. And I'm fine. There was some reorganization, but I'm functional enough." He studied her for a moment longer, noting the lack of paperwork or other indications of purpose. "Did you have something you wanted to talk about?"

"I'll be getting an arm much more functional for my job and hobbies then the one I had - I don't see that as much of a loss."

It wasn't a lie, as such. She had no real regrets about what had happened. People might be a little weird about her appearance currently, probably would still be weird when she got the new arm. It wasn't her issue though, and she had more pressing things to do then worry over other's comfort levels.

Except perhaps, those of her friends.

"There's a thing people do, it's called checking on the well-being of their friends. I figured it might be time I did that, considering you've been secluded in here much of the time since your return."

Haller studied her face for a moment, then released an exhale that bordered on a sigh. He closed his laptop.

"You're upset I didn't touch base personally." The counselor rested his elbows on his desk, fingers steepled. "I'm sorry. I haven't been especially good about that. When I came back I spoke to those who needed to be spoken to, though I don't think it was to their satisfaction. I understand that's a deficit, but I'm more task-oriented than the others were. Some things just don't occur to me."

"You're a new alter? Or just one I haven't seen before?"

Laurie took a seat in one of the chair's in front of the desk Haller was currently using.

Haller shrugged. "Everyone asks that. I still don't have a good answer. They were all distinct identities. I'm not. I guess you can think of me as autopilot. I'm what's left to keep the shop open, so to speak."

"Hmm, do you think they would be happy with that?"

It was useless asking if he was happy, he was obviously unable or unwilling to feel emotion right now. She had some experience with that mindset herself, it was the only thing that kept her sane when she first returned after the kidnapping.

The same mild smile touched his lips. "Trying your hand at psychoanalysis?" he asked. The mug of coffee that had been placed safely out of elbow's reach moved across the desk. Haller picked it up and took a sip. "I don't know, and it doesn't matter. They're not here anymore. But I do know David would prefer to be useful than catatonic." He lowered the cup, eyebrow arched again. "Does it really matter?"

"I did the requisite time in psychiatry as part of my medical training, I can't say I was that good at it," Laurie admitted - although at the time she had felt it was more that she was not interested in the in-depth psychoanalyse of ones self that was required if you wished to do that type of work. "But I was never that good at wanting to look that closely at myself at the time. I know you're aware that only you can really answer that sort of question. Do you think it should matter?"

"I know it affects other people. In that respect, I'm sorry that some people find it upsetting. I'd avoid that if I could." Haller met Laurie's frank gaze. "But personally . . . I'm here, and I'm doing my job. As far as I'm concerned that's what's important. So no, I don't think should matter." He tilted his head slightly, watching her. "Does it matter to you?"

"Do you want it to? I'm not sure it would help either of us if I were to make an issue of it. I can hope that the other parts of you aren't completely gone, I can even think it might be a good idea for you to work on emotional responses. I would very much like to help you with those, but these choices are yours to make. I am not the one to make them for you."

Laurie sat back, trying to gauge his responses against the David Haller that she had known.

Haller leaned back in his chair, fingers idly drumming the desktop. He seemed to be considering her words. After a moment he spoke.

"David watched Lorna die." The statement was almost obscenely casual. Not a muscle twitched on his face, not a tremble touched his voice. It was simply fact. "The Phoenix murdered her and Sarah Vale right in front of him. And that's only two of many. Moira and Nathan. Jean. Wanda. Sam. Remy and Ororo, Yvette and Namor . . . all those students who depended on us. Reality was torn apart, and what was stitched back together rejected everything that had happened. Even our losses."

His fingers stilled, and once again he met her eyes. "Loss is what caused the original dissociation," he continued in the same eerily neutral tone. "Since then every stress, every loss, has fractured David just a little bit more. So the question we should be asking isn't 'can he recover any emotional responses', as you say, but 'is there any benefit to recovering emotional responses at all'?"

"If you were a Game of Thrones fan I could answer Valar Magoulis." Laurie joked, but it was only a small attempt - giving herself time to truly think of what he had said. "All of us at one time or another have made the choice that what we do is more important then a long life - whether we did that consciously or not, it's what we agreed to. That the universe changed and we got some of them back in a differing way does not change that it was their choice to fight, or that they made a difference, which they did."

She had seen many of them questioning the decisions made, and the lives lost. She couldn't honestly answer how she herself felt about it because she had no real clue. Sometimes it was easier to deflect when asked but it felt like she owed Legion an honest answer.

"Do you feel that you have a good grip on right and wrong without emotion?"

"I don't think knowing right from wrong has anything to do with emotion. I certainly don't have a desire to hurt anyone. Besides, I may not be David, but I exist to keep him safe. I'll continue doing what he would have wanted to do." Haller watched the young woman, mirroring her seriousness with his own. "You know, whether the others chose to fight or not has nothing to do with it. Death is something felt by the living. Does it bother you that I don't see any advantage -- and a lot of disadvantages -- to feeling?" His pale eyes watched her face. "Have you let yourself grieve?"

"Would it change anything?"

Laurie could have been answering one of those questions, or both. Truly, she hadn't seen any purpose in mourning those that weren't actually gone. As to feeling, she had always found it a benefit rather then a burden but she certainly wouldn't fault anyone for going the easy road.

"That's the question you should be asking yourself." Haller's eyes flicked to the coffee mug. The liquid rose into the air in dozens of shining globes.

"I don't feel because that's not what I was made to do," he remarked, "but I'm only a part of a whole. You're a complete person, and people are complicated. They have layers. Sometimes even hidden from themselves." The coffee coalesced into a globe, shining amber as the the light caught it. He extended a hand, balancing the globe on his fingertip like a player twirling a basketball.

"Maybe you're dealing with it all as well as you say you are -- your injury, the losses, the changes in the world. There's no way you should be acting, and even if there was I'm certainly not the one who'd be pushing you to do it. But remember, ignoring or suppressing negative feelings is a temporary solution that leads to long-term problems. David would know." He peered at her from over the globe. "Are you really all right? To use your words, you're the only one who can really answer that sort of question. But I do think it's interesting that you asked me, yet don't seem to want to answer it yourself."

"I told you I was bad at this - I will deal with everything eventually, I just find it easier in smaller bites, the world exploding if we push it too far is also a consideration."

Laurie shrugged, reaching forward to push at the globe slightly. The feel of it was warm against her fingers, and the tips came away wet where she'd touched it.

"You're better at that then Jack. I wonder if he'd be jealous? Do you think they'll ever come back?"

"Maybe, if they weren't folded in like the alters that came before. Or, maybe, there's nothing left but me. I suppose I'll find out in my own time, just like you." Haller spread his hand, and the globe split and spiraled back into the mug. All but one droplet, little bigger than a pea.

"Would taking the time to mourn change anything for the world?" he mused. "No." The liquid bobbed gently over to Laurie and then came to settle, lightly, on the very tip of her nose.

"But it might change something for you."

"I believe this is when I point out that we are both perhaps really bad at dealing with our own problems."

Laurie smiled wryly, reaching up to touch the small point of moisture at her nose. She'd always liked Haller, he had a way of putting her at ease and he'd never turned his back. It was this affection that made her worry for him, despite the fact that Legion seemed perfectly healthy, if removed. She just hoped that it turned out well for him, whatever the result in the end.

"Are you very busy right now? If not, I could perhaps interest you in some lunch?"

Haller gave her a wan smile. He couldn't say the offer hadn't been expected. When in doubt, feed. That was the Xavier's way.

"I can make a little time," he said, rising from his chair as a flick of telekinesis opened the office door. "I'm told I'm still underweight, even for David."