Logan had barely been back at the mansion for two days when Emma asked him to try to drag Scott out of the hole he'd burrowed himself into. Logan knew Scott well enough to know that he couldn't be coping too well, all things considered. His dad was dead, and his kid and his brother were still on some fool's mission in space. If Logan was Scott, he'd have whipped off his glasses and blasted Chuck Xavier halfway across Westchester for sending his family out there to begin with. But Scott wasn't much like Logan, never had been, and that meant he was dealing with his grief in even more unconstructive ways. Most of which involved repression and denial
( ... )
When the door opened, he thought it was Emma, and his pulse sped up a little. The last time she had walked in on him like this, they had ended up making love on the desk. And the time beofre that. . .
But then he realized it wasn't Emma. She had gone to the city today, and besides, she didn't move that quietly. Scott didn't look up, and he didn't speak right away, either. If Logan had something to say, he could say it.
Scott finished another column of figures, realizing as he did that Logan wasn't going to speak first. Well, Scott could out-stubborn anybody, if it came to that, but meanwhile this was just annoying.
He went through another page, then spoke, without looking at Logan. "Do you ever wonder who stalks me when you're off doing whatever it is you do?"
Emma stood at the door to Scott's office, chewing on her bottom lip. It was a gesture she would stop immediately as soon as someone approached, of course, but she was alone in the hallway for a moment.
She was angry at herself for being so hesitant. Hesitant to knock on the door, and to talk to her boyfriend about the death of his father. And the reason she was hesitant was because she did not think she would say the right thing, and then he would be angry at her, and the tension between them would return.
They had been...happy...recently. Getting along. Emma was loathe to see that end, and then she felt guilty for thinking that. Scott needed her, and she wanted to be there for him.
She was just painfully worried she was going to say the wrong thing.
When has that ever stopped you before, Frost?
Emma knocked on the door. "Scott? Darling, it's me. May I come in?"
"Come in," he said, and smiled as she opened the door. "So you ask, these days, and Logan doesn't?" He frowned and amended. "Not that Logan ever did ask."
He smiled, twirled a pencil between his fingers, let her know that he was fine.
"I was coming to see how you were." Emma stood next to his desk. She watched him with the pencil. He was smiling.
It felt all wrong.
She put her hand on his shoulder. "My father and I have a...complicated...relationship. I can't imagine that it's easy to go through this, when you love yours."
He made a conscious effort not to flinch when she touched him. He thought it almost worked. It wasn't that he didn't want Emma's hands on him. He just -- wasn't ready to be touched right now, by anyone.
"This might seem like a cold thing to say," he answered carefully, "but I don't even remember my childhood that well, and we never spent much time together as adults. If I'm --" he stumbled over the word 'mourning,' it wouldn't quite come out. "--missing anything, it's the lost possibilities. And honestly, those were lost a long time ago." It was basically the same thing he had tried to tell Logan -- although, this time, he stopped before reaching the observation that he could only spend so much time mourning the same death. That would have been inching very close to dangerous territory.
Comments 58
Reply
But then he realized it wasn't Emma. She had gone to the city today, and besides, she didn't move that quietly. Scott didn't look up, and he didn't speak right away, either. If Logan had something to say, he could say it.
Scott finished another column of figures, realizing as he did that Logan wasn't going to speak first. Well, Scott could out-stubborn anybody, if it came to that, but meanwhile this was just annoying.
He went through another page, then spoke, without looking at Logan. "Do you ever wonder who stalks me when you're off doing whatever it is you do?"
Reply
"Nah. I figure no one else is interested enough in your boring ass to bother stalking you."
Reply
Reply
She was angry at herself for being so hesitant. Hesitant to knock on the door, and to talk to her boyfriend about the death of his father. And the reason she was hesitant was because she did not think she would say the right thing, and then he would be angry at her, and the tension between them would return.
They had been...happy...recently. Getting along. Emma was loathe to see that end, and then she felt guilty for thinking that. Scott needed her, and she wanted to be there for him.
She was just painfully worried she was going to say the wrong thing.
When has that ever stopped you before, Frost?
Emma knocked on the door. "Scott? Darling, it's me. May I come in?"
Reply
He smiled, twirled a pencil between his fingers, let her know that he was fine.
"What's up?"
Reply
It felt all wrong.
She put her hand on his shoulder. "My father and I have a...complicated...relationship. I can't imagine that it's easy to go through this, when you love yours."
Reply
"This might seem like a cold thing to say," he answered carefully, "but I don't even remember my childhood that well, and we never spent much time together as adults. If I'm --" he stumbled over the word 'mourning,' it wouldn't quite come out. "--missing anything, it's the lost possibilities. And honestly, those were lost a long time ago." It was basically the same thing he had tried to tell Logan -- although, this time, he stopped before reaching the observation that he could only spend so much time mourning the same death. That would have been inching very close to dangerous territory.
Reply
He was nice to me.
I'm sorry.
Reply
He could be nice when he wanted to.
Reply
I don't think.
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment