xp_logs | Kurt, Madelyn

x-madelyn.livejournal.com posting in

Kurt screws up his courage to finally speak to Madelyn. And gets his answer.

He couldn't put it off any longer. Not that he *wanted* to put it off, exactly, but it wasn't the easiest thing he'd ever done. But he'd exhausted all the excuses he might have had to stall, and now it was just time to bite the bullet and go and visit Madelyn in the medlab.

As she'd said to Alison, nightshift was good - it meant plenty of time to think about Hank's revelation, and work out what it was she wanted. Who she wanted. And to banish the nagging doubt planted by that bastard Cajun, although she was trying to decide if she needed to add that complication to the mix. Whoever she told, she knew neither would handle it. With a sigh she ran her hand through her hair, staring unseeingly at the latest batch of reports on the health status of the second-gen Mistra operatives, steeling herself for the pain she knew she was going to inevitably inflict.

Kurt knocked on the door quietly, oddly tentative, having walked down instead of teleported directly there as he might once have done. "Madelyn?"

And speak of the devil... One of them, at least. Madelyn smiled rather wanly at him, glad that he'd come to her, instead of her having to chase him. "Kurt, hi. Come in."

He did, moving further into the room and sitting down. "Hello. I... I think we need to talk."

"I think we do," Madelyn agreed. She could tell him that Hank had already told her, but somehow that was being unfair to both of them - her because she would be taking the lead, yet again, and him because he deserved the chance to show that she didn't always have to. "Do you want a coffee or something?" she offered, trying to make him a little more at ease.

He nodded, trying to choose how he was going to start off saying this. "Yes, please."

She nodded and busied herself with pouring him one, knowing well and truly by now how he liked his coffee. "Here," she said, handing it too him, his hands briefly brushing hers as he took the mug. It wasn't such an unusual contact, but now it was fraught with undercurrents. Pulling back, she perched on the edge of her desk, opposite the chair he was uneasily perched on.

"Thank you." He took a sip of the coffee, still thinking fast, and swallowed. "Madelyn... I need to tell you..."

Oh, this was too painful to watch. "Kurt? I know, or at least I think I do. Hank told me... he said that you cared for me?" Her tone was gentle.

He glanced up quickly, some unreadable but definitely there expression in his eyes. "Yes... yes, he said he was going to talk with you. And yes... I do. Very much."

"And did he tell you that he... feels the same?" Oh God, this was awkward. Words just weren't doing what she wanted. Kurt, I..." She paused, not even sure what she was going to say, wishing he'd take the initiative for the conversation.

He was trying, but words had never been a particular strong point for him. He nodded. "He did, yes. And I want you to know, that whatever choice you make... we have both agreed to respect that..."

This was so hard. Madelyn looked into Kurt's eyes, and found suddenly that yes, she did know what she wanted. "Kurt, you're a very dear friend," she began, hating every word she was about to say. "But... I don't feel the way about you that you want me to." Ugh, this was like stomping on a puppy - if only he wasn't so nice about it. But that was the problem, wasn't it? Kurt was nice, and sweet, but he was also so distant, so passive, so unwilling - or unable - to take the lead. "I'm... a pretty assertive person," she went on. "You might have noticed that. And you're not. Not that I'm blaming you for that, it's just... if we were in a relationship, I'd end up running roughshod over you. And I'd end up feeling like an incredible bully for it, and hate myself, and resent you." She lifted her eyes again, as she'd dropped her gaze to the floor between them, unable to watch the expression on his face. "I'm sorry, Kurt. I wish I could be what you want me to be, but I can't. I hope this doesn't mean we can't be friends any more."

By the time she looked back up, his expression was carefully blank, one he'd had a lot of time and cause to perfect over the years. He summoned up a smile for her, though, even it was necessarily a small and wan one. "Of course I still want to be your friend", he said simply.

It broke her heart to see the blankness of his face, the way he was bottling everything up yet again - and yet that had been the problem, hadn't it? He'd never trusted her enough to let her know what he was feeling, not entirely. And she was selfish enough to demand that. "Will you be okay?" she asked at last. "I wish there was a way to make this easier for you..." And for me. "...but there isn't one. Not without being dishonest with you."

There were only a few people he did trust enough for that, and he'd known all of them all his life. He wouldn't call her selfish for asking for that, but it was more than he could give. He nodded with a slight sigh. "I think... yes. And thank you for telling me the truth of your feelings right away."

"I owed you that much, at least," she said with a small, sad smile, which soon slipped away again. "I'm sorry, Kurt, I really am." The apologies wouldn't achieve anything, but she couldn't think of anything else to say. She'd never been in this situation before - usually it was the other way around, which was why the desire to do this as gently as possible.

Another nod, and he wanted to go upstairs and back to his room, but he wouldn't leave until they were done. Not from a thing like this. "I know. You could not do other than what you did."

"But it's not enough, is it?" She gave him another small, wry smile. "'First do no harm'. I know this is the right thing to do, but I still feel awful about doing it." She pushed herself off the desk, moved back behind it, giving him space to flee, as he so obviously wanted to do. "Don't shut yourself away, okay? Talk to someone? I'd offer to be that someone, only..." She made a small, helpless gesture with her hands. "I'm guessing it wouldn't help, would it?"

"Perhaps, later", he answered with a faint smile. "For right now... I am afraid not. I will find someone to talk to, if I can, I promise you that." He was already moving towards the door, only half-conscious of doing it.

"Take care, Kurt," Madelyn said helplessly as he left, not wanting to keep him any longer. She watched his retreating back, the slump of his shoulders, the droop of his tail, and she flopped into her desk chair with a groan, covering her face with her hands. Why did doing the right thing make her feel like such a shit?