xp_logs | Storm and Dazzler (Reply)

Ororo walked the halls of the Manor's lower levels, the clicks of her high heels, clearly heard as she approached the school's morgue. Behind the glass door, she saw the head of a blonde, sitting with her back to the door. She slowly pushed open the door and entered.

Unmoving, Alison sat cross legged in the chair, elbows resting on her knees and hands hanging loosely, lost in her thoughts. She stared at the small, metallic door without really seeing it, nor the nametag that had been slid in the slot made especially for that purpose.

Ororo placed a strong hand on her shoulder, "Alison?" The young woman didn't respond, her eyes were focused on the metallic door, as if seeing through it. Ororo's followed her gaze and saw the name that kept her companion so captivated. She realized that this is where the replica of Jamie Madrox's body laid.

"Hey," was the eventual whispered reply, the tone of voice subdued and tired. Taking a deep breath, Alison shifted, pushing back on the edge of the chair to raise her legs and wrap her arms around them, leaning her chin on her knees.

"Are you alright?" One look at her face told her everything she needed to know, though she decided to remain quiet, waiting for Alison's reply.

"Mmm," Alison shrugged ever so slightly; eyes focusing slowly back to the real world. "I read the entire report, you know." She swallowed heavily, hugging herself tighter for a moment as she shivered.

Ororo bent down and looked up into those bright blue eyes, "Death is just another step in the great adventure, Alison. Though its' sting is rarely missed by the living." She rose from her position and pulled a chair from the far wall and sat next to the young blonde, her eyes traveling back to the simulated grave, "It wasn't your fault, you know."

"They were my responsibility," is the simple reply. Sighing, she shrugged, not really wanting to go into details, but knowing that a few people might have noticed her silences of late. "He's putting up a good face, but..." she shakes her head, worry in her eyes. "I'm going to try and talk to him, soon."

"Talking is good, Jamie has always been a good student and I noticed that he mentioned being tired lately and that his homework was starting to give him problems. I'd rather he talked to someone who he doesn't care to see at the moment." Storm placed her hand on Alison's knee, "I know this is a trying time for you, perhaps we can let the Professor or Scott talk to Jamie?"

Alison shook her head firmly. "No. Right now, I don't think it'd be easy for him to talk to anyone if it's related to his dupe dying, and odds are it is. I think he needs to talk someone he'd be willing to open up to. More than ever. And none of this can be anywhere near as hard for me as it is for him."

"He may not want to talk to anyone, but if he's suffering as hard as I think he may be, then it won't be about him needing to talk." She managed a glance at Alison, "you may not want to talk about Betsy, but I think you need to. You've not been as vocal, you've kept to yourself, and haven't been feeding that insatiable appetite of yours. Something is wrong, but you're trying to keep it hidden. Why?"

"I'll talk to him tomorrow, and then we'll see," Alison replied, with more certainty than she'd shown so far in the conversation. She then carefully unfolded her legs setting her feet down on the cold floor silently. "I'm – worried. And angry of course. And there's nothing that can be done about it because it's all been done and..." she shrugged, staring at the floor.

"And what?"

"She shouldn't have had to go through that alone," Alison finally murmured, shoulders slumping. "She shouldn't have..."

"As Nathan has clearly stated, Betsy didn't want any of us to know, for whatever reason and if she did, we would've found out about it, especially if she'd been acting weirdly. But we didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. Perhaps, this trial was something she needed to experience on her own?"

Alison shook her head slowly, eyes staring off into nothing. "I think she just didn't know how to tell us," she whispers, the sound echoing in the starkly empty room. A soft chuckle escaped her, bitter and short. "Funny when you think about it. Her being a telepath and all."

Ororo took a deep breath, looking about her macabre surroundings, "have you seen her yet? I mean, has Essex let you into that clean room of his?"

"Not yet," was the simple reply. "I'd hate to have to laser my way in, but I'm willing to wait a bit more before raising a fuss. Besides," she paused for a moment, then slid Ororo a look. "I used to have a link with her. Happened during our training. She broke it right before she went in – I wanted to let him know, to see if it might help with any telepathic therapy they think up... helps if you're on good terms, for that."

"Right, and I haven't been the model person in diplomacy. You say that Betsy broke off the link before the surgery? Did she explain why, I mean, how long had you two....been connected?"

Alison's lip quirked at Ororo's statement about her diplomacy, or lack thereof, though she didn't comment. "A little under two months. It happened during psychic training – had something to do with us getting along so well, mostly, and I wouldn't be surprised if me trusting her so much was the kicker. I didn't mind, I just... got used to being able to tell she was there, you know? Only she started to leak over a bit before the surgery and when I asked her what was wrong, she just broke the link." Alison clenched her jaw, staring down once more. "She was scared."

Ororo shook her head, "I don't understand, if she had faith in the surgery and in Essex, why would she be scared. It doesn't make sense, but we'll never know what she really thought about anything. It would seem Betsy wanted to keep her thoughts to herself on a great many levels."

"She was scared of staying blind."

"I never wanted to pry, but I wanted to ask her how it'd happened. She seemed so well adjusted and comfortable in her own skin. Perhaps, it was a well-placed facade for our benefit."

"She hated it," Alison replied in a monotone voice. "She just – hit it well, I guess. But it was obvious if you spent any amount of time with her." With a shrug, Alison got to her feet, as though unable to stay in one place all of a sudden. "I should see about talking to Jamie. And sending an email to Dr. Essex."

She rose with Alison, nodding her head in understanding. "Alright, but if you want you can always find someone more engaging than me to talk to. It does get easier with time, Alison. I promise you that."

Alison paused at that, and turned to give Ororo an undecipherable look. "I hope it doesn't, Ororo. I really hope it doesn't." She nodded once, in thanks, and headed for the door, holding it open and waiting for the other woman. "I'll let you know how Jamie is doing."

Ororo followed Alison as she walked out of the morgue and continued to listen as her footsteps resounded through the hall. She tried to bury the dark thoughts that danced in the forefront of her mind as she left the morgue, but the overbearing feeling that she was missing something made her all the more unsure. And she hated it whenever she had that feeling because more often than not, she was right.