Tessa and Terry - Backdated

[ax_siryn]

After Terry hears from her father, she turns to Tessa for help - in calming down, and in planning.


Terry stared at her phone after the phone call ended, even as Patti Smith started singing again. What had just happened? And what was she going to do? Her fingers were trembling a little with the swell of emotions inside her as she pulled up Tessa's contact, then texted her. Where are you? I need some advice.

She sent it before she could agonise over the phrasing, then kept staring at the phone, French homework completely forgotten on her bed, waiting for her roommate to respond.

Her phone buzzed a moment later. I am on my way back to our room from the library.

Is it a matter you would be comfortable texting to me, or shall I hasten my arrival?

Thank God for Tessa. Terry swiped back, I'll be here, and sent the text, then turned off the music. Should she have told Tessa there was no need to hurry? There truly was no need; she would still be just after being on the phone with her father five or ten minutes from now. She'd stood up from her bed and headed to her closet, where she now took a bottle of whiskey and had just the one sip. For her nerves. She closed it up and put it back, then paced the length of the room as she waited for Tessa to arrive, humming nervously under her breath for something to focus on. Tunes always helped.

A few moments later, the door to the room swung open, and Tessa appeared. Her notes, which would normally have been held in front of her face for continuing study, were held instead under her arm, and her expression bore traces, however faint, of concern. When the door was closed again, she tossed her sheaf of annotated papers aside atop her desk and approached her roommate. "What has happened?" she inquired succinctly.

Terry turned to her, suddenly silent, words stuck in her throat. What Tessa had taught her so far about how to be mentally quiet was out of her reach just then, and her emotions were leaking all over the room. Confusion, anger, sadness, fear, and worst of all, hope. "I'm after being on the phone," she forced to push the words out. "With my father."

"I see," said the psion.

She walked toward her bed, turned, and sat down. Then Tessa held out a hand to Terry. "Come. Sit with me. We will discuss it." As far as she knew, Theresa had thought her father dead, a conclusion Tessa had seen no particular reason to investigate in any great detail. But with her uncle now in prison and her mother incontrovertibly deceased, she could understand how a claim like this could provoke no small emotion from the other teen. "And we shall arrive at a rational course of action."

Terry stopped biting on her bottom lip when she realised she was doing it, and stepped over to take Tessa's hand and sit beside her. She wrapped both her hands around Tessa's, mostly to stop herself from fidgeting. "Tom always said he'd been on an undercover mission when my mum found out she was pregnant, and he'd never heard from him again. But he said - my dad said - there was a lot I didn't know about my uncle. He made it sound like Tom had kept it from him - the fact that I existed." Her voice was trembling a little as she said so; that couldn't be true, could it?

"And..." She took a breath, forced her voice to be more level. "He works in intelligence, Tessa. And he's in Manhattan."

Dark eyes lowering as she digested this information, Tessa squeezed Terry's palm before she replied. "At the moment, there are two relevant questions," the cyberpath said calmly. "Do you believe him? I can investigate and confirm this claim, if you have any doubts. Do you wish to meet him? If you do not, there is no need we should entertain his communications further."

"I don't know," Terry replied quietly. Not if she believed him, and not if she wanted to meet him. (That was a lie, but she wasn't ready to admit otherwise, not out loud.) "And he's intelligence. What if he looks into me further? What if he finds out about us?"

"Our virtual security is extremely formidable," Tessa told her. "It would be extremely difficult to uncover anything credibly incriminating. Moreover, we have multiple options available for discouraging an excess of curiosity regarding the school and its students. I would be hesitant to apply them, however, until you are more certain of your feelings. Reconstructing memories after erasing them is extremely difficult, and potentially hazardous."

Terry's hands tightened in alarm around Tessa's. "Let's not - do that yet," she agreed. This was such a mess! She was quiet for a few moments, relaxing her hold on Tessa's hand. "So... what if I wanted to meet him? What do we... how..."

"First, I would request that you allow me to do at least a cursory background check on the individual in question, with an eye toward substantiating his claims and obtaining a sense of the potential threat he might pose to the secrecy of the school. I will respect your wishes with regard to his privacy, however. In any case, I would suggest proposing an initial meeting off-campus, and highly public. I would also ask to accompany you, close enough to respond should you require assistance. For safety's sake, I would suggest bringing one of our peers with the ability to teleport, as well--perhaps Kurt or Clarice. They would be capable of intervening even more quickly than I, and would provide a ready means of extraction should the worst come to pass."

Terry disentangled her hands from Tessa's to stand and pick up her discarded French assignment from her bed. On the top, a phone number was scrawled. "That's the number he gave me, in case it helps. With looking into him." She doubted that it would; it was probably a burner, wasn't it? But just in case. "And if you think all that's necessary..." Her teeth worried her bottom lip before she admitted, "I'd feel better knowing you were nearby, anyway." She did not mean it like Tessa had; she was thinking emotional support, too.

Rising from the bed, Tessa crossed to Terry again and rested her palm on the other girl's shoulder. "Even if I were entirely certain that this meeting posed no danger to you, or to the school, I would insist on being close at hand. You have spent your entire life believing your father deceased. Assuming he is who he claims to be, I can only imagine the feelings such a reunion might provoke. But I will be there for you, in whatever capacity you might require."

On impulse, Terry threw her arms around Tessa and hugged her tight. "Thank you," she told her, voice tight, tighter than she liked. Why couldn't she make her voice sound better than this? It was what she was supposed to do. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Persevere," the psion answered automatically, resting her own arms lightly around her roommate and returning the hug. "Of that, I have no doubt. Fortunately, you are not presently obliged to contemplate such hypothetical circumstances; I am here, and will be for the foreseeable future. I hope that you will derive some reassurance from that fact."

Terry couldn't help but laugh through her emotions, not mocking, but fond and a little unsteady, at Tessa's answer. It was so very much Tessa, and she sniffled, then nodded, and pulled back, pressing her hands together. "I will. I do. Thank you."

"You are welcome," said Tessa, her head canting to one side, mildly curious. She was not unaware of Terry's acute emotional fluctuations, but respect for her roommate's privacy kept her from exploring those feelings to any great degree. "You are feeling more optimistic about the prospect of meeting this individual who claims to be your father?"

"I wouldn't go that far," Terry stated with an unamused chuckle. "Less panicked. I'm feeling less panicked about it, if you're going to look into him, and be there."

"I had counted that reaction an outlying possibility," ventured the cyberpath. "If it would not presume an excess of familiarity, or impose unduly upon feelings you would prefer remain confidential, why would the possibility of one of your parents surviving evoke such feelings? Nervous enthusiasm or simple disbelief are more typical responses."

"What if he isn't my father?" Terry answered, eyes wide and serious. "Or what if he is, but he hates mutants?" That was for the panic induced by the political climate, but on a personal level, she didn't want to believe anything he might have to say about her uncle. Tom had been there for her all her life.

"We will deal with whatever contingencies arise. If he is not your father, then there will be no reason for us to have any reservation about altering his memories. If he hates mutants, then his would be a noxious presence in your life, one which we could remove in similar fashion." She patted the other girl reassuringly on the shoulder. "Remember that worry is an enemy of logic; we plan to the best of our ability based on the information we have, attempt to anticipate the unexpected to the extent we are able, and retain mental flexibility so that we may deal with the that which we failed to foresee with efficiency. To worry is to presume failure, and that serves no one."

"It might serve no one, but doing away with it's murder," Terry stated with a small smile. She took a deep breath. "All right. You'll look into him, and... we'll see what you find."

"We shall," she said. "My advice would be to withhold judgment for now. When additional data is available, you can make a more informed decision. We will proceed from there."

Terry nodded her head in agreement. "Thank you."

"No thanks are required," Tessa said, inclining her head, as if a change of perspective might afford her some new insight into the gratitude she had deemed unnecessary. "You are my roommate. You are also, I trust, my friend. I would do these things for you in any case. Now," she went on, "if you will excuse me, I shall return to the library to begin my research."

Terry nodded, and repeated, "Thank you," before she could help herself. And why would she? Whether thanks were necessary or not, she was grateful to Tessa. She hesitated, decided against asking if she could come with Tessa (she would just be a distraction), and asked instead, "Any idea how long it might take you?"

The psion considered that for a moment, then replied, "There are many variables to consider which would affect the amount of time this will require. If he is a fraud, I should be able to uncover as much fairly quickly. But if he appears to be genuine, more time will be required; you must be armed with as many facts as possible, whether this individual means well or not. I am aware, however, that you would prefer this matter be resolved quickly, and so I will endeavor to have a useful dossier assembled for you by morning."

"Oh, you don't have to - I mean - take all the time you need," Terry told her in a hurry. "I only wanted an idea of when, to try and - not think about it as much."

"In the morning," Tessa repeated, and rested a reassuring hand on the redhead's shoulder. "Do not concern yourself. I am used to keeping unusual hours. And I, too, would prefer this were not a protracted endeavor."

Terry reached out and hugged Tessa again before she could think better of it. "You're the best. I'm really lucky we're friends."

"We were both fortunate, I think, to be assigned to this room," she replied, returning the gesture with somewhat more confidence than she had previously shown. "One is pleased to be of assistance."

Terry was feeling too grateful to even tease Tessa about that turn of phrase, and she simply squeezed her before pulling back.