8/15 Instance: Five More Months

[tears~fall~like~glass]

timeline: before Political Circus


Walt: Walt stood with his back to the wall of plexiglass towards the concrete at the back of the containment cell. On the other side of the hall there were bugs which were supposed to be what was left of all the students that had gone missing and he didn't want to see his friends like that.

Walt: His hands drifted to the inhibitor collar around his neck. If I had a leash too the scene would be complete, he thought bitterly. God, what was he going to do?! He couldn't live the rest of his life with one of these around his throat and the patches had failed him completely. I'll have to find another solution...a more permanent solution.

Laura: Notebook with a pen stuck in the spiral tucked under her arm, Laura curiously peered down the small corridor that held the containment cells. She'd been looking for Dr. McCoy to double-check some notes, but he was nowhere to be found. Her next best choice was Cecilia, however she could momentarily put her search on hold to check on the bugs that were supposedly their missing squad.

Laura: Her eye ended up being drawn to Walt's form, and she found herself approaching his cell instead, more interested in how he'd ended up down here. It vaguely reminded her of the time she'd spent contained in the Danger Room.

Walt: Walt turned to grab a glass of water from the sink on the wall, yelping as he caught sight of short girl with dark hair staring at him through the glass like he was an animal in a zoo. "Uhm...hi," he said. "Err...s-sorry, I wasn't expecting anyone to be th-there."

Laura: Laura froze at the reaction before slowly nodding, the sharp noise causing the insects to chitter. She spared them a glance and turned her attention back to him, admitting, "I was not expecting you to be here either. Regardless, hello."

Walt: She spoke like the Terminator did, Walt thought, overly formal with a vague detachment, as though she were slightly bored. "Hi...err, crap, I already said th-that...um, it's Laura, right?" He wasn't especially good with names but he recognized her face. She was one of the upper years.

Laura: "Right," she confirmed with another nod, taking a few more steps to close some of the distance between her and the plexiglass. "Walter, yes?"

Walt: He wrinkled his nose. "It's just 'Walt', p-please. Only my great aunt Lillian calls me 'Walter,'" Walt said. Despite how bad things were now for him they weren't so that he was going to let someone get away with calling him 'Walter.'

Walt: "What are you doing d-down here?"

Laura: "Of course," Laura agreed, filing that bit of information away for later use. In answer to the question, she responded, "I had a question for Dr. McCoy, however I imagine he's quite busy dealing with our recent bug infestation. Why are you down here?"

Walt: Walt sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets. "I lost control of my p-powers," he said, sighing and trying not to start sniffling again at the thought of it.

Laura: Her gaze slid across the confines of the containment cell, eventually falling on him. She was relatively sure she'd have been far more irritated if she'd been stuck in such a small space, so she decided she got the better deal with Danger. Head tilting slightly at his admission, she commented, "Oh. You will get out when you are sure you have regained control then?"

Walt: "I'm never going to r-regain control," Walt said, shaking his head. "I never had any to been w-with. It's never been possible for m-me. I assume they'll let me out though w-with the inhibitor collar in awhile though."

Laura: "Is there a reason it is not possible?" Laura wondered, taking a moment to study the collar around his neck before commenting on that as well, "Surely one of those bracelets would be less stifling and draw less attention." The idea of having a collar around her own neck didn't sit well with her.

Walt: "My other form's n-not sentient," Walt explained, ignoring the small voice in the back of his head that sounded suspiciously like Fabian saying that wasn't true. He touched the collar reflexively. "They h-had only a limited number of those. I h-have to wait a few days for that...and I d-doubt anyone would notice. Not many p-people notice me."

Laura: For the moment, she accepted the answer about his other form, catching herself before she could compare it to Bruce's aloud. "Ah. Well, not many people notice me either, but I imagine they will if you are wearing that because it is different."

Walt: "There are p-people here that are far more unusual looking th-than I am," Walt pointed out, approaching the glass. "I mean, there are actually p-pink people here for God's sake."

Laura: After glancing around, she looked back to him and took a seat, cross-legged, on the floor in front of his cell, reasoning, "As far as I am aware, none of the pink people come with the negative connotations the collars do."

Walt: "That depends on w-who you t-talk to," Walt said, sitting down as well so that they were on the same level. "Where I come from you couldn't w-walk down the street like that."

Laura: "I was more referring to around the school, but I suppose you have a point. Sometimes it can be difficult to walk down the street here as well," she replied as she set her notebook aside in order to fold her hands in her lap, "Where are you from?"

Walt: "Edmonton, Alberta. That's in w-western Canada." Walt frowned the next minute though. "Actually, I only lived in Edmonton for t-two years. I w-was actually raised in a small t-town just outside of it called Beaumont."

Walt: "Where are you f-from?" he asked politely.

Laura: Laura was familiar enough with geography to know where Edmonton was in Canada, so she simply nodded. However, his question caused her frown back at him, her nodding ceasing as she offered a slight shrug. "I… I do not know."

Walt: Walt looked a bit confused. "Are you adopted?"

Laura: It wasn't often she conversed with somebody who wasn't aware of the horrors her father had been responsible for, so it took a moment to come up with a calculated answer. "No," she shook her head, still offering the truth, "My mother was institutionalized, and I remained with my father. However, he recently died."

Walt: "Oh," Walt said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Sorry...I didn't m-mean to bring up bad memories."

Walt: Walt was under the impression Laura didn't talk all that much to many people at all and was a bit confused why she'd picked him to approach. He wasn't adverse this though, there was something...comforting about her prescence. Though he couldn't say exactly why he felt that way.

Laura: "They aren't particularly bad," Laura attempted to reassure him. At the very least, the death of her father wasn't all that devastating. Her feelings on her mother were more complicated.

Walt: Walt nodded. "So I guess everyone knows I beat up Fabian, eh?"

Laura: "If they do, I was not informed," she shook her head, gaze questioning as she added, "May I inquire why?"

Walt: "Because-" Walt made a gesture that looked like he was throttling someone "-he's the biggest douchebag I ever m-met! He's been constantly b-bugging me and giving m-me a hard time since I got here and I finally couldn't take it anymore!"

Walt: "I'm sorry," he said quickly, looking a bit sheepish. "I didn't m-mean to shout."

Laura: "You're fine," Laura insisted. She didn't find Fabian to be all that bad most of the time, but she supposed she could understand how people would find him insufferable. "What does he bug you about? How badly did you lose it?"

Walt: "He just goes on and on about my p-powers and how I should use th-them," Walt said, frowning. "That's what we f-fight about most...that and he m-makes fun of stuff about me. He just doesn't like m-me or anything I do, really, he decided th-that almost as soon as we met."

Walt: He shook his head. "Not as b-bad as I could've lost it...but it's still p-pretty bad. What if s-someone else had been around? I could've hurt th-them. My other form can't be trusted."

Laura: "I believe Fabian has a tendency to make fun of stuff about most everyone," she easily replied, "Plus, he worked for Apocalypse. Of course he thinks mutants should utilize their powers. Otherwise, it would be like denying yourself."

Laura: Laura paused to consider the rest of what he had said and understandingly nodded, "That would be a valid concern, and I would think that others would share it. I mean, it is not exactly the same, but I would think most have struggled with control themselves."

Walt: "Have you?" Walt asked, a bit curious.

Laura: "Yes, but not for a long time now," she answered, attempting recall a time. When she couldn't think of one without divulging the conditioning her father had put her through, she instead said, "It took a lot of training."

Walt: "Pardon m-me for asking...but w-what exactly can you do?"

Laura: "I have retractable claws in my hands and feet as well as enhanced senses and healing."

Walt: Walt blinked. "You're a f-feral, too?"

Laura: Laura took in his surprise with a furrowed brow, simply answering, "Yes."

Walt: Walt frowned and looked away. "You don't look like one...or act like one, but th-then I've been told I d-don't either."

Laura: "You don't, really," she assured him, "I'm assuming most of it comes through with these transformations?"

Walt: He shrugged. "I don't remember m-much after I transform...it's like looking at a reel of film but most of the p-pictures are blurry or blacked out. All I know about my other form is w-what Department H told me when they tested me."

Laura: There were quite a few questions that she could ask in regards to that information, but she wasn't entirely sure whether Walt would be up to talking about it. She was curious about this 'Department H' and whether memories of things his other senses would have picked up on or if they were a blur as well. However, she managed to refrain. "Do you remember what triggers the transformations? Is it just anger, or…?"

Walt: "...I was angry both t-times," Walt said, swallowing hard. "Sometimes it h-happens when I'm scared though."

Walt: He leaned against the glass. "Department H t-triggered it with an adrenaline s-shot but I h-hate needles so soon I'd just transform w-when I saw them coming at me with the s-shot."

Laura: The solution to his problem didn't seem nearly as complicated as it likely was. "Theoretically, if you learned to control those emotions or that reaction, you wouldn't run the risk of changing, right?"

Walt: "No-one can s-stop being angry or s-scared," Walt said, thinking this a rather poor idea. "Those are n-normal reactions that help us s-stay alive or tell you when something isn't r-right. Or so said the sh-shrink who assessed me after I first t-transformed."

Laura: "True," Laura conceded, as he did have a point there, before going on to add, "I would think a shrink would also be able to teach methods on how to cope with such reactions, as learning how to cope could at least help to stall off a transformation. …Possibly."

Walt: "I don't n-need to see a shrink!" Walt exclaimed, frustrated. "My problem isn't m-mental, it's physical. I need m-medicine, not skills to cope! I need a...a cure."

Laura: "I never said you needed one. I said one should be able to teach such skills," she shook her head, now seeing how Fabian would annoy him about such things. However, that didn't mean Fabian wasn't annoying. Looking down to her lap, she eventually asked, "Are you sure?"

Walt: "Yes, I'm sure."

Laura: Laura opted not to question him further, not wanting to agitate him, as she gathered her notebook from her side and moved to stand, stating, "I imagine I should go finish my work. Perhaps I will see you around when you are allowed out?"

Walt: Walt nodded. "Yeah, s-sure. I'll see you." He waved a little behind the glass. "Good luck with your w-work."

Laura: Laura managed a small smile for him and a nod, even giving a small wave herself, "Good luck with your roommate."

Walt: Walt sighed. "Just five more m-months..."