Scott and Alison, Wednesday morning

[x-cyclops.livejournal.com]

Alison stops by to see Scott, to talk about his drunk-post and the ensuing kerfluffle. Scott's had a little bit too much time to think about things.



Walking down the hallway was simple and walking up to the door was simple. It was all based on faith, after all. Faith that went deeper than a fair amount of things and faith that wasn't affected in least by a much larger range of things. Not one bit. It was a comforting thing to wrap her mind around as she raised her hand to knock on the door, along with the simple fact that there was faith in herself as well, just now. And her knuckles rapped the door smartly in that rhythmic pattern used when she used to try and get up earlier to surprise Scott when they used to run together every morning, during the more intensive training, when he'd helped her gain control over herself and her powers.

Scott, studying a cup of coffee, looked up at the knock, recognizing it. He took a deep breath, then a sip of coffee. "Come in, Alison," he called quietly, not getting up from the table.

She opened the door and walked in, calm and even smiling to herself a bit. The coffee was to be expected, as well as the shadows under his eyes. She closed the door behind her firmly and walked closer, tilting her head to the side. It was the next day and even though it wasn't technically a hangover, Scott did not look good, if one knew what to look for. "Heya," she smiled a bit more, not trying to hide the way she was taking in all the details about him. He'd know anyway, she knew. "How you doing?"

"I'm fine, Alison." The facade was getting very easy, actually. He lifted his mug, took another sip. "Sit down, if you'd like. Can I get you anything?"

"Nah, I'm good for now," she replied, softly. "Lorna had the IV going this morning, so I'm all coffee-d up already. She was humming 'liar liar pants on fire' in the back of her head and resisting the urge to use lasers to bring that to life, barely. Not just yet, not the time to go that way. "Read your post late last night but figured a night to sleep it over made sense. And I was really babbling by the time I got back..." she smiled a bit wryly. "It would have been massively unfair to spring that on you then."

"No," Scott said after a moment's consideration. "I don't think fairness really comes into it. You were right, in any case. I, umm..." He trailed off, staring down into his coffee cup. "I'm sorry," he said, more quietly. "I'll give some serious thought to this seminar Haroun suggested. Seems only right."

Alison looked at him pensively for a moment, the smile fading entirely. "I'm not the one who's got a sorry coming." The smile returned a bit, her eyes lighting up - oh, so good to talk to him. "It's more like you owe you a sorry, you know?" She shrugged and leaned over, tapping his nose very lightly. "You messed up, got called on it, worked to mend it. Probably will till kingdom comes, if I know you at all." The smile grew fond and she wrinkled her nose at him. "Try not to overdo it? Gotta be fair to you too, in all of this. Wouldn't be right at all, otherwise."

"Hey," Scott said, forcing himself to smile. It was a small, tight smile, and the facade was a whole lot harder suddenly, but... well. Practice made perfect. "I'll sort it out. Haroun's suggestion was good. Charles will probably have more..." Oh, almost certainly. Lots and lots of suggestions, he imagined. He set his jaw carefully, holding onto the smile. "You know me. I'll handle it." And hell, it wasn't as if he needed to win back the kids' respect. Hadn't had it in the first place.

Leaning a bit more forward until they were at eye level, Alison wrinkled her nose at him. "Scott? Remember when you were helping me get control over my power, so I wouldn't hurt someone again?" The memory of what had happened with Sam brought brief shadows to her eyes, but now wasn't the time. Not for any of that. "What did you tell me? Over and over again?"

"That I was there to help, and that you didn't have to do it alone," Scott said, as if by rote. "I remember."

"Stupidhead. It works both ways, you know? And man, if I wasn't the biggest mess up ever back then, I don't know who was." She grinned wryly. "So you got drunk and slipped up. Big deal. You'll be more careful from now and the next time you get drunk, you'll just be less public about it. That's all." She leaned her forehead against his lightly, not going into the very likely Scott is Never Getting Drunk Again Ever and Ever rule, her arms slipping around his neck for a loose hug. "Ability to create great big gaping holes into the topsoil notwithstanding, we're still human. And so are you. Fearless Leadering and all."

He bit his lip, hard, concentrating as hard as he could on breathing deeply, on not shaking. Not falling apart on Alison, he told himself almost frantically. On anyone. He did not get the privilege of doing that, he had to keep it together and focus on cleaning up the mess and that was all. "It won't... happen again," he said, and his voice wasn't nearly as steady this time. Damn it. "I said that. I meant it."

"Even if it does, or something else does... so what? Hell - I wouldn't bother if I didn't care, Scott. Just because I'm calling you out on something doesn't mean I'm blocking you out or thinking less of you. Just because I may call you on something later doesn't mean I'll block you out then. Just like when you did with me. You've been there for me when I was drowning and so lost I didn't know what was left for me to do and damn it," she blinked, her eyes watering suddenly, not moving an inch, "if I can't just return the favor even a bit and be there for you too, what kind of person am I?"

He jerked back away from her almost instinctively. "'So what'?" he asked, his voice still uneven. Her hands were still on his arms, and she was still looking up at him, her eyes suspiciously bright. "You're missing the point. It shouldn't have happened... I don't know what the hell I was thinking..." Not thinking, that was the problem. "... and it won't happen again. Ever. It or anything like it, because I have too damned much to do, and I have no business getting drunk, or finding any other completely unproductive way to indulge myself!" The not-shaking was not working, and he tried to pull the rest of the way away, looking anywhere but at her. "I'm supposed to be here to be here for you, or whoever else needs me. I can't do that if I've got my head stuck up my own ass... which, you know, I do ninety percent of the time, so I really have to try and preserve that ten percent just in case I can actually do some good!"

She reached forward, finger curling under his chin and turning his face slowly until he was looking at her again, her other hand still resting on his shoulder. She had to get through, somehow - this was far bigger than just the drunken post, oh so very much. "If you don't ever give yourself the chance to let loose some steam," and she ruthlessly edited out the word 'safely' for both their sakes, "then you will break eventually. And the next time might be when someone needs you the most, because you'll be so twisted up from never allowing yourself to lean on someone that you won't be able or fit to help someone else."

She bit her lip for a moment, shaking her head minutely. "God, Scott. The fate of the world doesn't rest only on your shoulders." She framed his face with both her hands, dimly realizing she was crying at this point. "If we can't be there for you too, how can we really be a team? I trust you with my life. Without hesitation. Without fail." She took a deep breath, trying to keep her voice steady. "Trust me back?"

Don't look at her. He tried to shake his head, even with her holding onto him like that. "I'm fine, Ali, don't worry," he said, shivering and unable to stop it, at all. "Just... messed things up. I'll fix it. It's not like I got anyone killed, or let anybody die, so it's fixable. Really, not a big deal. At all. I'm okay."

"You're not okay," she whispered, shaking her head and still cradling his face, fingertips moving to brush away at a lock of stray hair. "And it's normal to not be okay, sometimes. Everyone is not okay, at one moment or another." She wouldn't plead, because pleading would not work, not with this. But she was still crying quietly and if concern and worry wasn't blazing through, she didn't know what was. It wasn't like she was trying to hide anything at all from him. "And not being fine doesn't mean you're failing anyone or messing up or screwing up things forever. It just means you need to lean on someone and for god's sake, you're allowed." Oh god, there were echoes of another talk here. "You're not alone." She repressed the wild urge to bap him on the head and instead just hugged him tightly, hoping somehow that not letting go would get through to him, somehow.

He was rigid and trembling in her arms. That funny roaring in the back of his mind started up again, and he couldn't feel Betsy, link or no link. Which was good. She didn't need to sense any of this, because he was supposed to be strong for her and even if he couldn't, he could at least not rub her face in the fact that he was weak. Any more than he already had.

"I d-don't know why you're so upset," he managed, the words coming out unsteady but somehow detached. Which was good. Detached was good. "Well, I know you're upset that I was stupid, but the rest of it really doesn't make any sense, Alison. I'm fine. Really. I don't need to lean on anyone. There's nothing wrong. I just need to make sure everyone else gets what they need. I can still do that." So long as it wasn't anything really complicated, or hard... then he screwed up. Like with Betsy.

Alison sighed tiredly, leaning her head on his shoulder for a moment longer, biting her lip hard and stifling a sob. "I'm sorry I've failed you," she whispered, before pulling back quickly, taking a few steps to put distance between them. "I'm sorry." Her voice strangled over the words, hands falling to her sides helplessly and she shook her head slowly, the all too familiar sensation of yet someone else she cared for pulling away from her and not letting her in crashing through her. Yet again. Faith ill placed, entirely her fault at that. She shouldn't have asked him, wasn't the right person for him to lean on. Ducking her head down she turned and walked to the door quickly, refusing to break down completely in front of him - refusing to put him in the position of being the one to be leaned upon, not now. "I'm sorry."

"Alison--" Her name caught in his throat, strangled, and he pushed himself up off the couch, crossing the room quickly before she could leave. "No," he said almost violently, shaking his head. "Stop it. Stop it right now. You don't have anything to apologize for..." Failed him? What the hell? "I won't let you blame yourself for no reason!" he snapped when she wouldn't look at him. "There's nothing wrong here... I'll do what has to be done, and I won't let it happen again." He took a deep, shaky breath. "D-Don't worry," he went on, more levelly. She needed him to be strong. So he would. "Bad couple of days. That's all. I'm fine.

She leaned on the doorway before turning back, giving him a sad smile. "No. I'm not playing that game, not doing that song and dance. I'm not. You deserve so much better than that. But at least... if you can't talk to me, please don't lie to yourself? Please? Because you're my friend and I love you, stupid. And it's killing me to see you like this. You can't just wipe yourself out by living only for everyone else instead." She took a deep breath, not quite a sob, not yet. "It doesn't work that way," she said, before opening the door, slipping out quietly.

She was gone before he could say a word, and Scott stood there, staring at the empty space where she'd been, mute. After a moment, he shook his head. "I'm not lying," he muttered aloud, a feeble protest. No one appeared to contradict him, so he closed the door, still shaking his head, and went back over to where he'd been sitting. He'd finish his coffee. Then there were all kinds of things he should be doing. So he'd do them. It was all very simple.