Simon and Pam | Backdated to 12/10
Dec. 10th, 2018 07:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ax_fatale posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
ax_mainSimon gets a visit from Pam, and ends up playing counselor.
Pam glanced down at herself to make sure she was still visible (she was, amazingly enough) then took a deep breath and exhaled it.
She hated this. Not visiting Simon - she actually liked visiting Simon, though she was never quite sure he was a fan. No, she hated the fact she couldn't just let the shit in fantasyland go, that is was still haunting her more than a week later. Xavier had told everyone there was no reason to think that anything that had happened there would have any effect on the here and now, but...
She'd died. Somehow, that seemed like something that would have left a mark. And there was really only one way she could think of to find out whether it had or not.
Setting her jaw resolutely, she knocked on the door to Simon's room. Hopefully he was there.
"Come in," Simon called distractedly, finishing up the last paragraph on the paper he was writing. He'd been at it half the morning, and when he reached for his coffee, he found it distressingly empty. With a sigh, he pushed out of his desk chair, rising to meet whoever was at the door.
Pam opened the door and forced a grin as she stepped inside. "Figured I'd knock for a change," she said. Not that she was apologizing for those times when she'd opened a portal straight into his room - they'd been emergencies, after all. But hey, she could have manners.
Besides, she was always afraid she'd 'port in on his roommate, and she kinda doubted Mr. World Famous Snowboarder would think it was funny.
Simon frowned as she stepped in, but put another pod in his coffee-maker. "Pam. Is everything alright?"
"No one's been shot or anything," she assured him quickly, then paused. "Well, not that I know of. Anyway, if anyone was, I didn't have anything to do with it."
He raised a brow, but waved her inside as he closed his laptop and folded a couple of stray pieces of clothing, tidying for his visitor. "Come on in. I'm glad to see that you're visible, at least."
Right on cue, Pam flickered, but dug her nails into her left palm and stabilized. "Mostly," she admitted. She came in and shut the door, then spun his roommate's desk chair and plopped down on it, backwards, so she could prop her arms on the back. "I spent a few days flickering non-stop like a strobe light. Alex's gotta have one hell of a headache by now." Not that he'd said anything, granted. But he really didn't have to.
That brought his frown back, and he turned his full attention to her, turning his chair to face her before sitting. "I know that you usually lose control of your visibility in times of crisis, but I've never seen you flickering like that before. Did something happen in Yorkland?"
Did something happen. Pam ducked her eyes from his and shrugged as she got back to her feet and walked over to the window. "I saw you there once," she answered instead. "Inside the Sun God temple, doing the whole Oracle gig. Was it cool?"
Simon grimaced. "I...will admit that it gave me a certain...calm that I was sorely needing. I'm not the religious type, honestly, and certainly not one to have such a confidence in the future, but it was...nice."
"You seemed pretty chill," she acknowledged. She leaned on the window sill and looked out at the snow covered landscape outside, trying to focus on what Simon was saying instead of his previous question. "So you could actually see the future and shit? What'd you all see?"
"Only events within that... alternate reality," Simon confessed. "Nothing real. Nothing lasting. It was a transference of my power, I think. Instead of my seeing the state of biological systems, I saw events that might unfold."
"I shoulda come to see you. Goody suggested it, but I didn't want to wait, and everyone knew it took forever to get in to see the Oracle if you didn't have money." Her lips quirked up just a little. "I coulda gotten around that - they couldn't have kept me out - but I wasn't sure if you'd just tell me to get in line."
"I think you know me better than that," Simon hummed softly. "The priests are the ones who created the queue. I would have helped anyone who needed it."
"Yeah, well, I didn't know you there, did I?" Pam pushed her hand back through her hair. "You looked really fucking impressive. And rich. People like that don't - didn't - do shit for anyone there unless they wanted something. And unless you'd have wanted anyone killed, I didn't have anything you'd want."
Simon watched her quietly. "You were an assassin." Then he paused, remembering the vague outline of a vision. "No, you were a Djinn."
"Both," Pam corrected, unsurprised that he'd heard of her. There'd been lots of stories, most of them bullshit. She'd thought it was cool, for a while. "Well, part. Part Djinn. I had the blue thing going, but couldn't change to air. Until the Assassin's Guild decided to fix that."
"They changed you?" Simon asked, his frown deepening.
"Invisible, intangible assassin's are a lot cooler than blue teen girl ones," Pam pointed out. "The ability was there, they figured, just a couple generations back. They just...did a magic thing and found it." She turned and leaned against the wall, eyes focused on the floor. "Throw on an obedience spell, and hey. Instant pet assassin. Yay me."
Simon released a soft breath and stood. "They made you their slave?"
That summed it up, didn't it? "Yeah, pretty much. But after the Guild got busted, Billy figured we could get the spell undone. Yknow, Before there was a new Guildmaster. So Goody got in touch with Caleb."
"Caleb," Simon repeated, stepping closer. "The one with magic?"
"Yeah. He did a thing, removed the spells." Pam swallowed, hard, dug her nails into her palms, and looked up at Simon. "I...came apart. They were the only thing holding me together."
Simon was quiet for a moment. "You died."
"Yeah." She rubbed at her forehead and gave him a pleading look. "Can you check and make sure it's not gonna happen again? Because...I know they keep saying nothing carried over, but...I just...came apart."
"Of course I can check," he nodded, trying not to think about the horror she must have felt in Yorkland. Where his situation had helped him, hers had only hurt her, if not physically, then psychologically. He motioned to the chairs. "Do you want to sit or stand? This may take a few minutes, just so I can be thorough enough to suit you."
"Sit." She walked over and perched on the edge of his futon. "I'm sorry to be a pain in the ass."
Simon nodded, taking a seat next to her before reaching for her hand. "You aren't. I'm glad you can come to me rather than suffer in silence. But no matter what I find here, I still think you should think about talking to the Professor, or a counselor."
As he closed his fingers around hers, he reached for his memory of her bio template, then began to lay it over what he could see of her now, making note of changes where he saw them. It was clear that she was exhausted and stressed. She wasn't getting enough of a caloric intake, and he recognized the tell-tale symptoms for anxiety and depression. Her musculature was also overtaxed, with clear strain in many of the ligaments. Beyond this, however, he saw no evidence of deterioration in her cells. Whatever she had been through in Yorkland hadn't seemed to have an impact on her body today.
"I did," she admitted, making a face. "I talked to Doc Sampson a few days ago. Otherwise I'd probably still be doing the strobe light thing." It hadn't much helped beyond that, she reflected as she closed her eyes and focused on Simon's finger entangled with hers, warm and solid and not passing through her. She wasn't a ghost. She was solid, and mostly visible, and...
"Anything?" she whispered, so as not to distract Simon if he wasn't done yet.
"Plenty," he replied, finally releasing her hand and looking up. "But nothing that indicates that you are degrading in any way. Your cells are healthy, if taxed by your stress and exhaustion. You're clearly experiencing anxiety and depression, and you need to eat. My suggestion would be to stop pushing yourself in the Danger Room and instead try and get some rest for a few days. We have some electrolyte drinks in the cafeteria - if possible, you should drink those and plenty of water, and get a good, hot meal. If you want me to have Hank prescribe some anxiety medication, I can."
The panic that rose up when Simon first replied receded slowly, and she took a deep breath and exhaled. No degrading, which from context she took to mean she wan't going to fly apart anytime soon. Tired, stressed out, depressed - that she knew already. "I'll pass on the pills," she replied automatically, then pushed her hair back and looked up at him. "Or...would they help me sleep? Really not sure what anxiety meds do. I don't want anything that's going to knock me on my ass. I've had plenty of those."
"A small enough dose wouldn't put you to sleep. It would just...take the edge off a bit. Make it feel a little less like you're about to fall to pieces," Simon assured her. "To be honest, I take them myself when I'm under extreme stress."
Something that would take the edge off. Honestly, that really didn't sound bad, right now. She needed to do something, and the Danger Room was only helping so much. "Yeaaaah," she said slowly. "That...maybe wouldn't be a bad idea, huh?"
"Here," Simon knew it wasn't really right, sharing medication and all, but he pushed to his feet and opened his desk drawer, bringing out a bottle. He shook one of the little white pills into his hand, then he broke it in half with his fingers. "This should be a small enough dose. It will be a subtle calm. If you think it's something you want, I'll let Hank know to write you a prescription."
Gingerly, Pam took the half pill from his fingers. "Are they addictive?" she asked, though she went ahead and popped it into her mouth. If he only took them now and then, half of one should be safe enough either way.
"Yes," Simon told her, passing her a small water bottle from his mini-fridge. "But only if you take them often."
"Great." Or not. Pam screwed open the top of the bottle and made a face. Granted, she couldn't see herself taking any pills often enough to turn into her mom, but still. "I'll think about it, ok? Let me see how this one works first."
"That's the general idea," Simon agreed, putting his pills away. "And if you have any questions, you know you can always come to me."
"Yeah, I know." Kinda like Lance, though they couldn't have been more different otherwise. She smiled a little at the thought, then shrugged. "Does that still apply if we leave? Alex is thinking we should maybe go back to the Brotherhood."
He raised a brow in curiosity, but didn't ask. It wasn't his place. He wondered, though, if Scott knew that. "I'm not trying to become a doctor for the money," he pointed out. "I want to help people, whether you're a member of X-Force, or the Brotherhood."
Pam nodded, but stayed silent for a moment before asking, "You think Doc Sampson feels the same way?" Because...yeah. She'd been kind of afraid to ask. And while she wasn't sure she'd want to keep seeing him if she left...she wasn't altogether sure she wouldn't, either.
"I can ask him for you," Simon told her, taking a seat. "But honestly, I think he would."
"Yeah, if you could?" Pam grimaced and looked up at him. "I...fuck. I never thought I'd actually be worried about whether or not I could go see a shrink, y'know?"
"I'll make sure you can get some help, Pam," Simon promised her. "Whether it's Sampson or not. Okay?"
"Yeah, okay." She smiled a little. "Anyway, whether we go or not? You've still got a lift to school. I promised."
"I appreciate that," he gave a slight nod. "Have you, ah, or has Alex, spoken to Scott?"
"No. Or, I don't think so - I mean, Alex might've and not said anything? But I doubt it." Pam shrugged. "Not much point until I decide, is there?"
“Oh,” Simon blinked, surprised. “I would have thought it would be Alex’s decision.”
Pam frowned. "How come? It was his idea, but I get a say."
"To be honest?" Simon offered. "I would have thought it was your idea to go. It's a little surprising that it's the other way around."
"I..." Pam got to her feet and walked back towards the window, her fingers instinctively curling in towards her palms, though she'd cut the nails too short to cut the skin. Still, maybe it worked, subconsciously, because she barely flickered as she reached the window and turned back to look at Simon. "I don't know what I want to do. I mean, I didn't really want to come - I came because Alex needed to get away for a while, and here seemed like the best bet. Even if I was worried that Scott would talk him into staying. But..." Her teeth pulled at her lip as she turned back towards Simon. "I'm not stupid. I know I'm fucked up, Simon. And I know that's a lot for him to deal with, and he shouldn't have to. He shouldn't have to babysit me, even if he doesn't mind. But...it's gotten better, the last year. I mean, not right now? But mostly."
Her expression closed up and she waved all that aside. "Besides, I'd miss Billy. There's no one at the base worth sparring with."
Simon couldn't follow the bit about her screwing up, but he understood the rest, and he nodded gently. It was odd, how he could interact with someone like Pam when he had trouble even socializing with his own peers. Did that say something about him? Either way, when she pointed out the last part, he smiled wryly. "I take it you two have bonded?"
"Oh yeah, best buds. We were in Fantasyland too - that's gotta mean something, right?" She smiled crookedly and shrugged. "He gets it. Even the parts Tommy doesn't. It's cool."
"Then maybe it's best you stay. It sounds like you've really connected with him, and you have the doctors on hand here," Simon pointed out.
"Or I could ask him and Goody to come with us," Pam pointed out. "Billy's never gonna fit in here any more than I do, and Eileen thought he was awesome in the field when they took on The Right. Everyone would be cool with it."
"Would Goody?" Simon asked curiously. He'd kind of hit it off with the other teen, and Pam's suggestion was a little worrying.
"I don't know," she admitted. "If he wasn't, he'd say so, and they wouldn't come. It doesn't hurt to ask, right?"
"Right," he echoed, though he couldn't help a small frown denting his brow.
"You're frowning," Pam pointed out, her own forehead furrowing. "How come?"
"No, uh, it's - it's nothing. I just, you know, enjoyed speaking with Goody," Simon attempted to explain.
Pam rolled her eyes. "Y'know, it's not like he'd be dying. You could talk to him. I talk to Eileen and Mort. Fuck, Magik comes here and hangs out with the other witch girl."
Again, Simon had no idea what witch girl Pam was talking about, but it didn't matter. He nodded in quiet agreement. "Of course. If that's his choice." Regrettable, but still Goody's choice.
"Well, it's not like I'm going to kidnap him," Pam reasoned. "But I'm thinking Billy should get a say, too. Everyone acts like Goody should make all the decisions for them both, and that's bullshit."
"I, ah, I didn't say that he should..." Simon attempted to backpedal.
"You kinda did." Pam crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a look. "Just like you figured Alex would decide for us. And I mean, I realize that it seems like me and Billy are more fucked up than Alex and Goody are? But we're not. It just shows more with us. No one much notices when Alex sits in his room and stares at the wall, or when Goody can't pick up a gun in the Danger Room."
Simon looked her in the eye. “I don’t think that. I was worried about Goody leaving because I’m closer to him and as you might have noticed, I don’t have a lot of friends. And as for you and Alex, I was concerned about his relationship with Scott. I don’t presume to have any idea how decisions are made between you.”
Pam opened her mouth to argue that, then paused, took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. Simon hadn't ever treated her like she was nuts, and he hadn't actually said anything that had deserved that, not really. "Sorry. I - fuck. Yeah. Sorry." She shrugged and turned back to the window. "Y'know, if we - they, I mean - do leave, it's just to New York. It's not like you couldn't come visit. The whole team owes you; it's not like they'd tell you to get lost."
He sighed. "I'm not sure it's best for me to be seen with your people."
Pam rolled her eyes. "Who said anything about being seen? It's not like we order takeout to the base all that often." She shrugged and turned to look at him. "Anyway, whatever. All this is a lot of maybes anyway. I'm not even sure I want to go back yet."
"It sounds like you do," Simon pointed out, a small smile on his lips.
"Well, I want to eventually, yeah." Pam made a face at him and shrugged. "I'd rather pull it together a little more first, though. It'd be nice to go back and not hear anyone telling Alex to keep an eye on me. He maybe doesn't mind, but I do."
"Well, if it's any consolation, I think you've grown a lot since you've been here," he told her.
Pam's eyebrow quirked up. "I haven't grown any since the Right got hold of me." Which kinda sucked. She would've liked to have ended up taller than 5'2, if only because kissing Alex could give her a real kink in the neck.
"Emotionally," Simon corrected. "I think you've grown emotionally."
"Yeah, because making like a strobe light is a sign of emotional growth." She grimaced. "Toss in this is pretty much the first time in a week I've let Alex or Billy out of arm's length."
"And yet you're voluntarily seeing a counselor, and you've spent the last half hour talking to me about your feelings," he smiled at her.
"Yeah, well, I -" she broke off and actually thought about that. She wouldn't go quite so far as to say she was "voluntarily" seeing a counselor, seeing as Baldy'd mandated it back when she'd stabbed Cal, but... "Huh. That's a sign of growth?"
"A big one," Simon agreed.
"Huh," Pam repeated, looking more than a little stunned.
"I think that whenever you go back, your teammates will be pleasantly surprised," he told her.
"Maybe. Maybe not." Pam shrugged, pushing her confusion aside. "Fatale was a fuckload more useful, overall."
"More useful than... you?" Simon asked curiously.
Pam just shrugged. She figured that much was obvious. "A whole lot less fucked up, anyway. Fatale could handle anything and finish the mission. I...can't."
"Why do you think that?" Since when had he turned into a therapist, anyway? Simon knew it was clear that she was disassociating to protect herself, and it wasn't his place to say whether that was a good or bad coping mechanism. Still, there were healthier ones.
"You sound like the Doc," Pam pointed out. She shrugged again and glanced back towards the window. "Anyway, whatever. I answer to either these days, all better, right?" Pyro wouldn't think so, granted. But she was pretty sure it was.
"I think... you should be you, no matter what name you use," he murmured. "And honestly, it's taken me a long time to come to that conclusion for myself. It's...terrifying. Showing the world who you really are."
"No shit." Pam looked back at him, curiosity winning out over discomfort. "So who are you?"
He smiled sideways at her. "I uh, I'm gay. I'm a mutant. I hate dinner parties, and I despise politics. I want to be a doctor, but I'd rather not be a pretentious neurosurgeon, like my father hopes. I love Star Wars and sword fighting, and yes, I keep a lightsaber beneath my bed."
"Does it work?" Pam asked, genuinely impressed. "And are you any good with a sword?"
"No, it's a facsimile, but yes, I am. I mean, I'm decent, that is." He cleared his throat. "Not that it has any real world application like your skills do."
"It's a sharp blade, isn't it? You can wave that around, I could teach you to use a knife, no problem," Pam pointed out. "If you wanted a real world application."
"Thank you, but I have terrible aim. Just trust me on this one," Simon told her.
Pam rolled her eyes. "Not throwing them, moron. Fighting with one. Or, y'know, making sure if it's them or you, you come out of it in one piece." She shrugged. "Not like your powers are gonna help any. Or like you can carry a sword on campus."
He started to open his mouth to tell her that his powers could actually help, but then again, that was a revelation he'd been keeping close to his chest, and he wasn't sure he really wanted it getting around. "Ah, thanks. I- I guess it wouldn't hurt."
"It'll hurt," Pam disputed. Any kind of training hurt, or you weren't pushing it. "But I think they've got some training ones around. So, nothing fatal."
He just stared at her. "I'm going to regret this."
Pam glanced down at herself to make sure she was still visible (she was, amazingly enough) then took a deep breath and exhaled it.
She hated this. Not visiting Simon - she actually liked visiting Simon, though she was never quite sure he was a fan. No, she hated the fact she couldn't just let the shit in fantasyland go, that is was still haunting her more than a week later. Xavier had told everyone there was no reason to think that anything that had happened there would have any effect on the here and now, but...
She'd died. Somehow, that seemed like something that would have left a mark. And there was really only one way she could think of to find out whether it had or not.
Setting her jaw resolutely, she knocked on the door to Simon's room. Hopefully he was there.
"Come in," Simon called distractedly, finishing up the last paragraph on the paper he was writing. He'd been at it half the morning, and when he reached for his coffee, he found it distressingly empty. With a sigh, he pushed out of his desk chair, rising to meet whoever was at the door.
Pam opened the door and forced a grin as she stepped inside. "Figured I'd knock for a change," she said. Not that she was apologizing for those times when she'd opened a portal straight into his room - they'd been emergencies, after all. But hey, she could have manners.
Besides, she was always afraid she'd 'port in on his roommate, and she kinda doubted Mr. World Famous Snowboarder would think it was funny.
Simon frowned as she stepped in, but put another pod in his coffee-maker. "Pam. Is everything alright?"
"No one's been shot or anything," she assured him quickly, then paused. "Well, not that I know of. Anyway, if anyone was, I didn't have anything to do with it."
He raised a brow, but waved her inside as he closed his laptop and folded a couple of stray pieces of clothing, tidying for his visitor. "Come on in. I'm glad to see that you're visible, at least."
Right on cue, Pam flickered, but dug her nails into her left palm and stabilized. "Mostly," she admitted. She came in and shut the door, then spun his roommate's desk chair and plopped down on it, backwards, so she could prop her arms on the back. "I spent a few days flickering non-stop like a strobe light. Alex's gotta have one hell of a headache by now." Not that he'd said anything, granted. But he really didn't have to.
That brought his frown back, and he turned his full attention to her, turning his chair to face her before sitting. "I know that you usually lose control of your visibility in times of crisis, but I've never seen you flickering like that before. Did something happen in Yorkland?"
Did something happen. Pam ducked her eyes from his and shrugged as she got back to her feet and walked over to the window. "I saw you there once," she answered instead. "Inside the Sun God temple, doing the whole Oracle gig. Was it cool?"
Simon grimaced. "I...will admit that it gave me a certain...calm that I was sorely needing. I'm not the religious type, honestly, and certainly not one to have such a confidence in the future, but it was...nice."
"You seemed pretty chill," she acknowledged. She leaned on the window sill and looked out at the snow covered landscape outside, trying to focus on what Simon was saying instead of his previous question. "So you could actually see the future and shit? What'd you all see?"
"Only events within that... alternate reality," Simon confessed. "Nothing real. Nothing lasting. It was a transference of my power, I think. Instead of my seeing the state of biological systems, I saw events that might unfold."
"I shoulda come to see you. Goody suggested it, but I didn't want to wait, and everyone knew it took forever to get in to see the Oracle if you didn't have money." Her lips quirked up just a little. "I coulda gotten around that - they couldn't have kept me out - but I wasn't sure if you'd just tell me to get in line."
"I think you know me better than that," Simon hummed softly. "The priests are the ones who created the queue. I would have helped anyone who needed it."
"Yeah, well, I didn't know you there, did I?" Pam pushed her hand back through her hair. "You looked really fucking impressive. And rich. People like that don't - didn't - do shit for anyone there unless they wanted something. And unless you'd have wanted anyone killed, I didn't have anything you'd want."
Simon watched her quietly. "You were an assassin." Then he paused, remembering the vague outline of a vision. "No, you were a Djinn."
"Both," Pam corrected, unsurprised that he'd heard of her. There'd been lots of stories, most of them bullshit. She'd thought it was cool, for a while. "Well, part. Part Djinn. I had the blue thing going, but couldn't change to air. Until the Assassin's Guild decided to fix that."
"They changed you?" Simon asked, his frown deepening.
"Invisible, intangible assassin's are a lot cooler than blue teen girl ones," Pam pointed out. "The ability was there, they figured, just a couple generations back. They just...did a magic thing and found it." She turned and leaned against the wall, eyes focused on the floor. "Throw on an obedience spell, and hey. Instant pet assassin. Yay me."
Simon released a soft breath and stood. "They made you their slave?"
That summed it up, didn't it? "Yeah, pretty much. But after the Guild got busted, Billy figured we could get the spell undone. Yknow, Before there was a new Guildmaster. So Goody got in touch with Caleb."
"Caleb," Simon repeated, stepping closer. "The one with magic?"
"Yeah. He did a thing, removed the spells." Pam swallowed, hard, dug her nails into her palms, and looked up at Simon. "I...came apart. They were the only thing holding me together."
Simon was quiet for a moment. "You died."
"Yeah." She rubbed at her forehead and gave him a pleading look. "Can you check and make sure it's not gonna happen again? Because...I know they keep saying nothing carried over, but...I just...came apart."
"Of course I can check," he nodded, trying not to think about the horror she must have felt in Yorkland. Where his situation had helped him, hers had only hurt her, if not physically, then psychologically. He motioned to the chairs. "Do you want to sit or stand? This may take a few minutes, just so I can be thorough enough to suit you."
"Sit." She walked over and perched on the edge of his futon. "I'm sorry to be a pain in the ass."
Simon nodded, taking a seat next to her before reaching for her hand. "You aren't. I'm glad you can come to me rather than suffer in silence. But no matter what I find here, I still think you should think about talking to the Professor, or a counselor."
As he closed his fingers around hers, he reached for his memory of her bio template, then began to lay it over what he could see of her now, making note of changes where he saw them. It was clear that she was exhausted and stressed. She wasn't getting enough of a caloric intake, and he recognized the tell-tale symptoms for anxiety and depression. Her musculature was also overtaxed, with clear strain in many of the ligaments. Beyond this, however, he saw no evidence of deterioration in her cells. Whatever she had been through in Yorkland hadn't seemed to have an impact on her body today.
"I did," she admitted, making a face. "I talked to Doc Sampson a few days ago. Otherwise I'd probably still be doing the strobe light thing." It hadn't much helped beyond that, she reflected as she closed her eyes and focused on Simon's finger entangled with hers, warm and solid and not passing through her. She wasn't a ghost. She was solid, and mostly visible, and...
"Anything?" she whispered, so as not to distract Simon if he wasn't done yet.
"Plenty," he replied, finally releasing her hand and looking up. "But nothing that indicates that you are degrading in any way. Your cells are healthy, if taxed by your stress and exhaustion. You're clearly experiencing anxiety and depression, and you need to eat. My suggestion would be to stop pushing yourself in the Danger Room and instead try and get some rest for a few days. We have some electrolyte drinks in the cafeteria - if possible, you should drink those and plenty of water, and get a good, hot meal. If you want me to have Hank prescribe some anxiety medication, I can."
The panic that rose up when Simon first replied receded slowly, and she took a deep breath and exhaled. No degrading, which from context she took to mean she wan't going to fly apart anytime soon. Tired, stressed out, depressed - that she knew already. "I'll pass on the pills," she replied automatically, then pushed her hair back and looked up at him. "Or...would they help me sleep? Really not sure what anxiety meds do. I don't want anything that's going to knock me on my ass. I've had plenty of those."
"A small enough dose wouldn't put you to sleep. It would just...take the edge off a bit. Make it feel a little less like you're about to fall to pieces," Simon assured her. "To be honest, I take them myself when I'm under extreme stress."
Something that would take the edge off. Honestly, that really didn't sound bad, right now. She needed to do something, and the Danger Room was only helping so much. "Yeaaaah," she said slowly. "That...maybe wouldn't be a bad idea, huh?"
"Here," Simon knew it wasn't really right, sharing medication and all, but he pushed to his feet and opened his desk drawer, bringing out a bottle. He shook one of the little white pills into his hand, then he broke it in half with his fingers. "This should be a small enough dose. It will be a subtle calm. If you think it's something you want, I'll let Hank know to write you a prescription."
Gingerly, Pam took the half pill from his fingers. "Are they addictive?" she asked, though she went ahead and popped it into her mouth. If he only took them now and then, half of one should be safe enough either way.
"Yes," Simon told her, passing her a small water bottle from his mini-fridge. "But only if you take them often."
"Great." Or not. Pam screwed open the top of the bottle and made a face. Granted, she couldn't see herself taking any pills often enough to turn into her mom, but still. "I'll think about it, ok? Let me see how this one works first."
"That's the general idea," Simon agreed, putting his pills away. "And if you have any questions, you know you can always come to me."
"Yeah, I know." Kinda like Lance, though they couldn't have been more different otherwise. She smiled a little at the thought, then shrugged. "Does that still apply if we leave? Alex is thinking we should maybe go back to the Brotherhood."
He raised a brow in curiosity, but didn't ask. It wasn't his place. He wondered, though, if Scott knew that. "I'm not trying to become a doctor for the money," he pointed out. "I want to help people, whether you're a member of X-Force, or the Brotherhood."
Pam nodded, but stayed silent for a moment before asking, "You think Doc Sampson feels the same way?" Because...yeah. She'd been kind of afraid to ask. And while she wasn't sure she'd want to keep seeing him if she left...she wasn't altogether sure she wouldn't, either.
"I can ask him for you," Simon told her, taking a seat. "But honestly, I think he would."
"Yeah, if you could?" Pam grimaced and looked up at him. "I...fuck. I never thought I'd actually be worried about whether or not I could go see a shrink, y'know?"
"I'll make sure you can get some help, Pam," Simon promised her. "Whether it's Sampson or not. Okay?"
"Yeah, okay." She smiled a little. "Anyway, whether we go or not? You've still got a lift to school. I promised."
"I appreciate that," he gave a slight nod. "Have you, ah, or has Alex, spoken to Scott?"
"No. Or, I don't think so - I mean, Alex might've and not said anything? But I doubt it." Pam shrugged. "Not much point until I decide, is there?"
“Oh,” Simon blinked, surprised. “I would have thought it would be Alex’s decision.”
Pam frowned. "How come? It was his idea, but I get a say."
"To be honest?" Simon offered. "I would have thought it was your idea to go. It's a little surprising that it's the other way around."
"I..." Pam got to her feet and walked back towards the window, her fingers instinctively curling in towards her palms, though she'd cut the nails too short to cut the skin. Still, maybe it worked, subconsciously, because she barely flickered as she reached the window and turned back to look at Simon. "I don't know what I want to do. I mean, I didn't really want to come - I came because Alex needed to get away for a while, and here seemed like the best bet. Even if I was worried that Scott would talk him into staying. But..." Her teeth pulled at her lip as she turned back towards Simon. "I'm not stupid. I know I'm fucked up, Simon. And I know that's a lot for him to deal with, and he shouldn't have to. He shouldn't have to babysit me, even if he doesn't mind. But...it's gotten better, the last year. I mean, not right now? But mostly."
Her expression closed up and she waved all that aside. "Besides, I'd miss Billy. There's no one at the base worth sparring with."
Simon couldn't follow the bit about her screwing up, but he understood the rest, and he nodded gently. It was odd, how he could interact with someone like Pam when he had trouble even socializing with his own peers. Did that say something about him? Either way, when she pointed out the last part, he smiled wryly. "I take it you two have bonded?"
"Oh yeah, best buds. We were in Fantasyland too - that's gotta mean something, right?" She smiled crookedly and shrugged. "He gets it. Even the parts Tommy doesn't. It's cool."
"Then maybe it's best you stay. It sounds like you've really connected with him, and you have the doctors on hand here," Simon pointed out.
"Or I could ask him and Goody to come with us," Pam pointed out. "Billy's never gonna fit in here any more than I do, and Eileen thought he was awesome in the field when they took on The Right. Everyone would be cool with it."
"Would Goody?" Simon asked curiously. He'd kind of hit it off with the other teen, and Pam's suggestion was a little worrying.
"I don't know," she admitted. "If he wasn't, he'd say so, and they wouldn't come. It doesn't hurt to ask, right?"
"Right," he echoed, though he couldn't help a small frown denting his brow.
"You're frowning," Pam pointed out, her own forehead furrowing. "How come?"
"No, uh, it's - it's nothing. I just, you know, enjoyed speaking with Goody," Simon attempted to explain.
Pam rolled her eyes. "Y'know, it's not like he'd be dying. You could talk to him. I talk to Eileen and Mort. Fuck, Magik comes here and hangs out with the other witch girl."
Again, Simon had no idea what witch girl Pam was talking about, but it didn't matter. He nodded in quiet agreement. "Of course. If that's his choice." Regrettable, but still Goody's choice.
"Well, it's not like I'm going to kidnap him," Pam reasoned. "But I'm thinking Billy should get a say, too. Everyone acts like Goody should make all the decisions for them both, and that's bullshit."
"I, ah, I didn't say that he should..." Simon attempted to backpedal.
"You kinda did." Pam crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a look. "Just like you figured Alex would decide for us. And I mean, I realize that it seems like me and Billy are more fucked up than Alex and Goody are? But we're not. It just shows more with us. No one much notices when Alex sits in his room and stares at the wall, or when Goody can't pick up a gun in the Danger Room."
Simon looked her in the eye. “I don’t think that. I was worried about Goody leaving because I’m closer to him and as you might have noticed, I don’t have a lot of friends. And as for you and Alex, I was concerned about his relationship with Scott. I don’t presume to have any idea how decisions are made between you.”
Pam opened her mouth to argue that, then paused, took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. Simon hadn't ever treated her like she was nuts, and he hadn't actually said anything that had deserved that, not really. "Sorry. I - fuck. Yeah. Sorry." She shrugged and turned back to the window. "Y'know, if we - they, I mean - do leave, it's just to New York. It's not like you couldn't come visit. The whole team owes you; it's not like they'd tell you to get lost."
He sighed. "I'm not sure it's best for me to be seen with your people."
Pam rolled her eyes. "Who said anything about being seen? It's not like we order takeout to the base all that often." She shrugged and turned to look at him. "Anyway, whatever. All this is a lot of maybes anyway. I'm not even sure I want to go back yet."
"It sounds like you do," Simon pointed out, a small smile on his lips.
"Well, I want to eventually, yeah." Pam made a face at him and shrugged. "I'd rather pull it together a little more first, though. It'd be nice to go back and not hear anyone telling Alex to keep an eye on me. He maybe doesn't mind, but I do."
"Well, if it's any consolation, I think you've grown a lot since you've been here," he told her.
Pam's eyebrow quirked up. "I haven't grown any since the Right got hold of me." Which kinda sucked. She would've liked to have ended up taller than 5'2, if only because kissing Alex could give her a real kink in the neck.
"Emotionally," Simon corrected. "I think you've grown emotionally."
"Yeah, because making like a strobe light is a sign of emotional growth." She grimaced. "Toss in this is pretty much the first time in a week I've let Alex or Billy out of arm's length."
"And yet you're voluntarily seeing a counselor, and you've spent the last half hour talking to me about your feelings," he smiled at her.
"Yeah, well, I -" she broke off and actually thought about that. She wouldn't go quite so far as to say she was "voluntarily" seeing a counselor, seeing as Baldy'd mandated it back when she'd stabbed Cal, but... "Huh. That's a sign of growth?"
"A big one," Simon agreed.
"Huh," Pam repeated, looking more than a little stunned.
"I think that whenever you go back, your teammates will be pleasantly surprised," he told her.
"Maybe. Maybe not." Pam shrugged, pushing her confusion aside. "Fatale was a fuckload more useful, overall."
"More useful than... you?" Simon asked curiously.
Pam just shrugged. She figured that much was obvious. "A whole lot less fucked up, anyway. Fatale could handle anything and finish the mission. I...can't."
"Why do you think that?" Since when had he turned into a therapist, anyway? Simon knew it was clear that she was disassociating to protect herself, and it wasn't his place to say whether that was a good or bad coping mechanism. Still, there were healthier ones.
"You sound like the Doc," Pam pointed out. She shrugged again and glanced back towards the window. "Anyway, whatever. I answer to either these days, all better, right?" Pyro wouldn't think so, granted. But she was pretty sure it was.
"I think... you should be you, no matter what name you use," he murmured. "And honestly, it's taken me a long time to come to that conclusion for myself. It's...terrifying. Showing the world who you really are."
"No shit." Pam looked back at him, curiosity winning out over discomfort. "So who are you?"
He smiled sideways at her. "I uh, I'm gay. I'm a mutant. I hate dinner parties, and I despise politics. I want to be a doctor, but I'd rather not be a pretentious neurosurgeon, like my father hopes. I love Star Wars and sword fighting, and yes, I keep a lightsaber beneath my bed."
"Does it work?" Pam asked, genuinely impressed. "And are you any good with a sword?"
"No, it's a facsimile, but yes, I am. I mean, I'm decent, that is." He cleared his throat. "Not that it has any real world application like your skills do."
"It's a sharp blade, isn't it? You can wave that around, I could teach you to use a knife, no problem," Pam pointed out. "If you wanted a real world application."
"Thank you, but I have terrible aim. Just trust me on this one," Simon told her.
Pam rolled her eyes. "Not throwing them, moron. Fighting with one. Or, y'know, making sure if it's them or you, you come out of it in one piece." She shrugged. "Not like your powers are gonna help any. Or like you can carry a sword on campus."
He started to open his mouth to tell her that his powers could actually help, but then again, that was a revelation he'd been keeping close to his chest, and he wasn't sure he really wanted it getting around. "Ah, thanks. I- I guess it wouldn't hurt."
"It'll hurt," Pam disputed. Any kind of training hurt, or you weren't pushing it. "But I think they've got some training ones around. So, nothing fatal."
He just stared at her. "I'm going to regret this."
