xp_logs | Hank, Scott, Thursday noonish

Scott comes to visit Hank. He tries, but Hank can't keep up the brave face any longer, and Scott discovers just how hard this is for Hank, and what might happen if he doesn't get better.

Scott was coming by this afternoon, and Hank inspected his domain anxiously. Books he couldn't read tidied away, everything else more or less in its place, a plate of cookies out, coffee all made - it had taken him nearly half an hour to work out how to use the coffee-maker, but he'd done it. All ready for visitors. Right.

He heard the knock, and turned towards the door, dragging his face into an expression of cheerful optimisim. No matter how much he might rage and despair in private, Scott wasn't going to see even a hint of it. Nobody was. "Come in!"

Scott opened the door and came in, giving Hank a subdued, but warm smile. "I think I'm late?" he said lightly. "Stuff came up. Stuff always does."

"Especially if you're you," Hank agreed. "I made coffee. And I have had cookies brought to me. All the students have been bringing me treats. It's a good thing I've been sneaking down to the gym when I'm bored, or I'd be getting a little tubby by now." He remembered, and smiled. "How's Horatio, by the way?"

"Getting bigger," Scott said, coming over and sitting down. "You should come up and see him. Alex keeps teasing me that I'm feeding him kryptonite or something."

"I will. He's a cute little guy. And he does remind me of you." Hank poured a cup of coffee, and handed it to Scott. "You were always so serious, even when you were just a kid."

"Never had much to laugh about, until I came here," Scott said quietly, taking the coffee with a smile and a nod.

"I worked at making you laugh a lot. I was always happy when I did it," Hank said softly. The past was good. It was... safe. Thinking about then, not now. "Maybe I should start that up again." He grinned. "I could creep into your room at night and redecorate Horatio's tank in a beach-party theme. And put a teeny little hula skirt around his shell, where it won't bother him."

"You're welcome to redecorate my turtle's tank anytime you like," Scott said firmly. "See, that's the good kind of stimulation for the little guy. Not like putting him on the damned roomba."

"I'd never hurt him or frighten him," Hank said, smiling. "I'm a careful pranker." He sipped his own coffee, sitting down on the couch beside Scott. "Alex and I have spent some time together lately. We've been having fun." Alex was such a good kid... he'd been very determinedly pretending that nothing was really wrong. It helped, not having worried eyes looking at him when he was trying to be cheerful.

"I'm glad. Haven't had much of a chance to spend time with him myself, not lately." Scott smiled a little, sipping at his coffee. "Then again, he's used to a neglectful older brother, so..."

"Not neglectful. Just busy. And I don't have much else to do." Hank looked around the room that was starting to feel more and more like a cage. "Not now, anyway. There's so much to do, and I can't help..."

"It's frustrating for you. I can tell that."

Hank nodded, looking down into his coffee. "Still, I suppose it's one way to get a break, right?" he said, as cheerfully as he could. "I mean, resting, playing, having treats brought to me... there are worse ways to spend a week or two." He wasn't sure Scott would buy that one, but he couldn't think of a better one. And it worked on the students, sometimes...

"Hank..." Scott set the coffee cup on the table gently. "You don't have to pretend with me."

Hank kept looking into his coffee, so he wouldn't have to see the look on Scott's face. "I'm fine," he said, the cheerful tone fading no matter how much he tried to hold onto it. "Well, I will be, anyway. Maddie and Moira will fix me, and until then, I get a little holiday."

"They will fix it," Scott said, his voice quiet. "And if it makes you feel better to put a brave face on this for everyone else, I'm not about to tell you to stop." He gazed levelly at Hank. "But you helped teach me, a long time ago, that the brave face can't last forever."

Hank swallowed hard. "I can't..." He set the coffee down on the table, his hands starting to shake. "You have so much to deal with already. So do Moira and Madelyn. And Alison, with Haroun. And I don't want to scare the students. So I just... I can't ask anyone to deal with this..." He bit his lip, hard. Scott had never seen him cry. He shouldn't have to now.

"You're not asking," Scott said steadily. "I'm offering."

Hank swallowed hard, his voice cracking when he spoke. "I hate this," he said softly. "I feel... like I'm not me anymore. I thought that couldn't happen again, after I turned myself into a monster, that it had been as bad as it was ever gonna get, but I was wrong. This is worse. I'm losing bits of myself and I can't stop it and I can't do anything I just have to sit here and wait to turn into a vegetable!"

"You're still here." Oh, it hurt to see him like this. Scott swallowed, trying to ignore the tightness in his chest. "And we're not letting you go without a fight."

"But I can't fight. I can't do anything!" He slid off the couch, resting on his knees, hunching in around himself. "I can feel it slipping away, Scott..." he whispered, his eyes filling. "I can't read my books anymore. I can barely work my own computer. My spelling is going. My MIND is going, and there's nothing I can do!"

"I know," Scott said, his voice a bit ragged. He reached out and laid a hand on Hank's shoulder, squeezing tightly. "No more platitudes. I'm sorry."

The touch was too much, and Hank choked on tears that wouldn't be stifled. "I don't want to live like this," he whispered, covering his face with his hands. "I can't live like this."

Scott slid down to the floor beside him. "I know you're scared," he said hoarsely. "I know. But you can't give up." For a minute he couldn't force the words out. "We need you too much, Hank. You have to try and hold on."

"I'll try. I always try." Hank swallowed hard, sniffling.

"I know you do." Scott hugged him, tentatively. "And you're not doing it alone. Just remember that."

Hank nodded, and hugged back tightly, more tears following the first. "I just... either I'll get better, or I won't," he said softly. "But if they find a way, and it would leave me like this forever... if they can stop it, but not fix it... I won't do it, Scott. I can't. Not like this."

It took every bit of self-control Scott had not to react to that. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," he said hoarsely. "Not until then."

Hank nodded, still holding on tightly. "We're due for 'nother miracle," he said chokily. "Keep reminding myself... we get them pretty regularly, right?" And that's what it'd take, to fix him now. And as much as he loved his friends and family, he couldn't face a lifetime of this.

"We specialize in them around here. I thought you'd have figured that out by now?" Scott said, striving - mostly in vain - for a lighter tone.

"Counting on it," Hank agreed, scrubbing a hand over his eyes. "Can't let my little brothers down, can I?" Saying it aloud almost made him start to cry all over again. He'd spent the last ten years trying to protect Scott, despite determined opposition from Scott himself, who had all the sense of self-preservation of a Christian Martyr. He wanted to spend the next ten working on Alex, too.