[ Severus is not happy about the numbers changing. Not after the nightmare of the previous jump, not after the genetics labs have vanished, not while the ghost of dead space pirate is baiting them on the network about running out of time, not while Charlotte's resurfaced.
Far from anti-authoritarian, Severus appreciates a solid chain of command and clarity and order. This will help that. But this isn't a job, this isn't school. He knows this means he's deeper woven into the ship. He doesn't like it.
At all.
And yet, indeed. Not what Charles asked him here for. ]
Were you taking the dosage recommended, and how effective was it?
[ Severus remembers. He didn't give Xavier anything that would be given to someone with a grievous injury - but he knows how good his products are. Working nearly instantly, long-lasting, free of side-effects, functioning exactly as they're supposed to. Muggle medication does not so much pale in comparison as die screaming. ]
[ He beats the stiltedness out of his tone, even if this is altogether more difficult than he wants it to be, compounding combinations of a subject he doesn't like to talk about with someone who has given up on him. His focus set away from Severus is not stalwart -- at the necessary, conversational beats, he looks back -- but certainly diminished.
An idle fidget with data pad screen adjusts the brightness of the room. It dims, then readjusts, diminishing glare. A subtle cool starts to come up from the ground. He forces himself to stop. ]
And it worked. I wasn't entirely sure if I was meant to be using it back to back, so I didn't.
Extended use can cause issues with the appendix, in some people, as most potions are made from plants that would be nearly impossible to digest in their original state. You can build up a tolerance, too.
[ But that's about it. ]
Long term it wouldn't be the most effective choice for a chronic condition, but it won't have hurt you.
[ He hasn't left yet, hasn't snapped that he'll send him more. Charles has to know that Severus will help him more or less no matter what; he even wanted to ensure Edgeworth of all people got help. ]
There aren't generally a lot of choices for a chronic condition.
[ In his world, anyway, says a tip of his head, a look aside. That he knows Snape will help him because Snape will help almost anyone doesn't feel any better. But there are worse things. Like categorical refusal.
Still. He can recognise it, the remove in Snape's consideration. He'd seen it happen. ]
I can't sleep unless I take something -- from the pain itself, and its presence interferes with my ability, at any hour.
[ A hand up, gesture the space next to his temple. The illusion of the landscape around them is a good sort of trick, pressing away the distant voices of the residents slowly migrating to the floors beneath their feet. ]
I'll go through periods of time where it's hardly there, unless I've been active, then it'll settle in and take over and.
[ He stops himself. That's enough. He adds, instead; ]
I've not handled it before while being able to walk.
What's different now? Why are you having this pain now and not last jump, did you injure yourself further?
[ Severus is not a mediwizard, he can't decide whether or not it's safe to shove Skele-Gro and a sleeping tonic at Xavier and see where they are in the morning. He can get by, though, and he can probably even get to the bottom of this if Charles is forthcoming enough. ]
[ Well. Severus may be a wizard and not a scientist or even a mediwizard, but he's a smart lad and Charles gives it a go anyway, touching fingertips to brow in fidgety grind to relieve tension. ]
One assumes something to do with inhibitory mechanisms through nerve receptors aren't being activated as they should. Resultant of lasting damage, neuropathic pain from the trauma itself, the surgeries--
I'd been out of the hospital for only a month when I first arrived here.
[ Severus is of the opinion that people should be grateful they have him to do this sort of thing, and for the most part, his high regard for himself is well-earned. It's not like he's going to fuck this up by accident.
Charles looks a bit like he might shimmy off into a corner like a scared rabbit. He listens, and meanwhile conjures a chair (from a kitchen somewhere) with a graceful movement, shoves it closer to the other man with his foot, then sits down about a meter away, facing him. ]
So it was serviceable, but by now it's degraded.
[ Elbows on his knees. Expression closed-off, but as usual, attentive. ]
[ Obligatory glance after magically appearing chairs comes and goes. A new question alights as a flicker behind his eyes, but he keeps on topic. Because he might never get back to it if he doesn't.
He watches, instead, Severus settle. ]
Yeah.
[ For a moment, he looks like he might say something else. Probably something out of bounds of professionalism. He holds onto it instead, and continues with this line of discussion, as necessary. ]
There's something physiological or-- biochemical about the way it affects my power. Even when I was using your potions, even when it was all gone, it's difficult to control.
[ That flighty, rabbity fear remains. Likely rooted in pride, what he has left of it, being gambled with. ]
How long has your telepathy been difficult to control? [ And, more precisely-- ] Did your control wane in exact tandem with the increase in pain, or was it a back and forth decline that fed off each issue?
[ Severus has seen people give up on using magic while struggling deeply with illness, but he's also seen people lose themselves in it completely, refusing to so much as take a step or lift a spoon under their own physical power. The mind is a vast sea of unknown reactions.
[ There is a shake of his head at that next question. He doesn't know. It all blurs into own homogeneous grey zone of bullshit, really. Maybe he's run out of five dollar words to throw in. ]
Do you want me to look? [ Hard-edged, suddenly. This isn't a joke and Charles isn't a child - a shrug and 'I don't know, it hurts' isn't acceptable. ] You're perfectly capable of talking about it.
[ Stop hiding is in his slightly accusatory look. Charles has come this far. Cough it up. ]
[ --fails to match sharpness for sharpness, but his tone does fill out, which might be a better thing than prior drifty meekness, even if the answer fails to satisfy.
But he stops. Thinks. ]
The pain was always bad, but I was-- alright, for a while. Those first couple of years. I could put it to one side when I had to, and my power was my own. But then things got difficult, didn't they. And they hurt.
[ He breaks a look away, settling it between them. ]
I expect it built with the pain, but it was just as much of a mess when I was cycling through morphine, methadone, up until Hank made the serum. They probably fed off one another.
[ That's still unhelpfully unspecific, but at least it's something. Severus knows it's been years, but Charles isn't stupid, Severus knows that. The intellect to unravel this is in there, he's just ground himself down under his own heel. ]
Did losing control of your ability contribute to the physical pain you were feeling?
and ask Snape if he can provide those potions or not
but enough of him wants to be better than that, so he doesn't, falling silent. There's enough ambiguity that he has to think on it, which is a little like balancing a dinner plate on a stick, a sort of gravity tugging at uneasy consideration. But ultimately-- ]
[ Severus gave Charles a sampling of his work to assist in a very specific context - recovering from the trials in the hallways, and possibly saving whatever leftovers for future bumps and bruises. He's not going to blindly shove more at him, he's going to make sure he gives him the most effective and appropriate treatment possible. ]
Very well.
[ He sits up, folding his arms over his chest and regarding the other man with a critical look. ]
What I have on hand right now is in medical. Lily Potter can release it to you. It'll be a stop-gap, though, before I get you something personalized that's appropriate for long-term.
[ Focus shifts from inward to outward, studying Severus over engaging in self-analysis. It also makes his expression inscrutable, if not necessarily closed off -- just difficult to read.
His hands fold together, and he chances a nod, once. ]
I'll let her know to expect you. [ He doesn't think Lily would just give Charles whatever if he asked for it, but he's feeling distinctly mistrustful of the other man right now. Which is perhaps not very nice, but the last time Charles tried to quit the department he'd done some interesting things concerning other people. ]
[ This comes across quick and hesitant at once, like he's tricking himself into committing. Because maybe leaving this conversation at professional would be uniquely awful, or somehow not correct--
--as much as trying to read Severus is as helpful as trying to see through holographic ice. ]
Does he want an apology from Charles? What would it even be for? He's not taking it personally in terms of being abandoned in the department - that feeling is reserved for being angry at himself for having accidentally trusted him somewhat. Maybe not emotionally, but he certainly did trust that Charles was dedicated to his work.
Apparently not. ]
Don't. [ Quietly. He stands up. ] You haven't done anything to me.
Because I can't do anything to you. Is that what you've decided.
[ His hands grip arms tighter, like he has half a mind to stand up as well, but he'd rather not have to fuss with that.
And maybe someone should have told him that apologies require a degree of humbling. That trace of challenge in his voice is reeled back in, as if it had been used to hook Severus from leaving.
[ --that gets a surprised huff of nearly laugh, even if Charles can't pretend that any humour he finds there is deliberate or friendly on Snape's part.
He settles back a little further into his chair. ]
You asked if I needed help, when you first found me. I should have had this conversation then.
[ He doesn't think he could have, struggling as he is now, even after given reason; but he's biting back excuses, for the moment. ]
[ Not giving an inch; to do otherwise wouldn't be genuine. He's disappointed and revolted over what Charles has done to the point of anger and he's not over it. Not even close. ]
But at least you didn't put it off for long enough to make me force it on you.
[ Severus turns away and motions with one hand over his shoulder, Vanishing the chair back to its home as the holodeck door opens to let him out. He leaves, doing nothing to further confirm or deny the fact that he still gives enough of a fuck to have considered shoving help on him anyway. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Far from anti-authoritarian, Severus appreciates a solid chain of command and clarity and order. This will help that. But this isn't a job, this isn't school. He knows this means he's deeper woven into the ship. He doesn't like it.
At all.
And yet, indeed. Not what Charles asked him here for. ]
Were you taking the dosage recommended, and how effective was it?
[ Severus remembers. He didn't give Xavier anything that would be given to someone with a grievous injury - but he knows how good his products are. Working nearly instantly, long-lasting, free of side-effects, functioning exactly as they're supposed to. Muggle medication does not so much pale in comparison as die screaming. ]
no subject
[ He beats the stiltedness out of his tone, even if this is altogether more difficult than he wants it to be, compounding combinations of a subject he doesn't like to talk about with someone who has given up on him. His focus set away from Severus is not stalwart -- at the necessary, conversational beats, he looks back -- but certainly diminished.
An idle fidget with data pad screen adjusts the brightness of the room. It dims, then readjusts, diminishing glare. A subtle cool starts to come up from the ground. He forces himself to stop. ]
And it worked. I wasn't entirely sure if I was meant to be using it back to back, so I didn't.
[ But very frequently, clearly. ]
no subject
[ But that's about it. ]
Long term it wouldn't be the most effective choice for a chronic condition, but it won't have hurt you.
[ He hasn't left yet, hasn't snapped that he'll send him more. Charles has to know that Severus will help him more or less no matter what; he even wanted to ensure Edgeworth of all people got help. ]
no subject
[ In his world, anyway, says a tip of his head, a look aside. That he knows Snape will help him because Snape will help almost anyone doesn't feel any better. But there are worse things. Like categorical refusal.
Still. He can recognise it, the remove in Snape's consideration. He'd seen it happen. ]
It got me through the night.
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[ Isn't a remove better, in this situation? But then, Severus wouldn't look at him with pity or sympathy before, either. It's just not his way. ]
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He charges on, anyway, following cue. ]
I can't sleep unless I take something -- from the pain itself, and its presence interferes with my ability, at any hour.
[ A hand up, gesture the space next to his temple. The illusion of the landscape around them is a good sort of trick, pressing away the distant voices of the residents slowly migrating to the floors beneath their feet. ]
I'll go through periods of time where it's hardly there, unless I've been active, then it'll settle in and take over and.
[ He stops himself. That's enough. He adds, instead; ]
I've not handled it before while being able to walk.
no subject
[ Severus is not a mediwizard, he can't decide whether or not it's safe to shove Skele-Gro and a sleeping tonic at Xavier and see where they are in the morning. He can get by, though, and he can probably even get to the bottom of this if Charles is forthcoming enough. ]
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[ Well. Severus may be a wizard and not a scientist or even a mediwizard, but he's a smart lad and Charles gives it a go anyway, touching fingertips to brow in fidgety grind to relieve tension. ]
One assumes something to do with inhibitory mechanisms through nerve receptors aren't being activated as they should. Resultant of lasting damage, neuropathic pain from the trauma itself, the surgeries--
I'd been out of the hospital for only a month when I first arrived here.
no subject
Charles looks a bit like he might shimmy off into a corner like a scared rabbit. He listens, and meanwhile conjures a chair (from a kitchen somewhere) with a graceful movement, shoves it closer to the other man with his foot, then sits down about a meter away, facing him. ]
So it was serviceable, but by now it's degraded.
[ Elbows on his knees. Expression closed-off, but as usual, attentive. ]
no subject
He watches, instead, Severus settle. ]
Yeah.
[ For a moment, he looks like he might say something else. Probably something out of bounds of professionalism. He holds onto it instead, and continues with this line of discussion, as necessary. ]
There's something physiological or-- biochemical about the way it affects my power. Even when I was using your potions, even when it was all gone, it's difficult to control.
[ That flighty, rabbity fear remains. Likely rooted in pride, what he has left of it, being gambled with. ]
no subject
[ Severus has seen people give up on using magic while struggling deeply with illness, but he's also seen people lose themselves in it completely, refusing to so much as take a step or lift a spoon under their own physical power. The mind is a vast sea of unknown reactions.
Go figure. ]
no subject
[ There is a shake of his head at that next question. He doesn't know. It all blurs into own homogeneous grey zone of bullshit, really. Maybe he's run out of five dollar words to throw in. ]
no subject
[ Stop hiding is in his slightly accusatory look. Charles has come this far. Cough it up. ]
no subject
[ --fails to match sharpness for sharpness, but his tone does fill out, which might be a better thing than prior drifty meekness, even if the answer fails to satisfy.
But he stops. Thinks. ]
The pain was always bad, but I was-- alright, for a while. Those first couple of years. I could put it to one side when I had to, and my power was my own. But then things got difficult, didn't they. And they hurt.
[ He breaks a look away, settling it between them. ]
I expect it built with the pain, but it was just as much of a mess when I was cycling through morphine, methadone, up until Hank made the serum. They probably fed off one another.
no subject
Did losing control of your ability contribute to the physical pain you were feeling?
no subject
and ask Snape if he can provide those potions or not
but enough of him wants to be better than that, so he doesn't, falling silent. There's enough ambiguity that he has to think on it, which is a little like balancing a dinner plate on a stick, a sort of gravity tugging at uneasy consideration. But ultimately-- ]
No. No, it didn't advance it.
no subject
Very well.
[ He sits up, folding his arms over his chest and regarding the other man with a critical look. ]
What I have on hand right now is in medical. Lily Potter can release it to you. It'll be a stop-gap, though, before I get you something personalized that's appropriate for long-term.
no subject
His hands fold together, and he chances a nod, once. ]
What should I ask for?
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Is there anything else?
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[ This comes across quick and hesitant at once, like he's tricking himself into committing. Because maybe leaving this conversation at professional would be uniquely awful, or somehow not correct--
--as much as trying to read Severus is as helpful as trying to see through holographic ice. ]
I wanted to apologise.
no subject
Does he want an apology from Charles? What would it even be for? He's not taking it personally in terms of being abandoned in the department - that feeling is reserved for being angry at himself for having accidentally trusted him somewhat. Maybe not emotionally, but he certainly did trust that Charles was dedicated to his work.
Apparently not. ]
Don't. [ Quietly. He stands up. ] You haven't done anything to me.
[ Xavier should probably apologize to himself. ]
no subject
[ His hands grip arms tighter, like he has half a mind to stand up as well, but he'd rather not have to fuss with that.
And maybe someone should have told him that apologies require a degree of humbling. That trace of challenge in his voice is reeled back in, as if it had been used to hook Severus from leaving.
But: don't. ]
I'd really rather try to.
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Apologize, or do something to me?
no subject
He settles back a little further into his chair. ]
You asked if I needed help, when you first found me. I should have had this conversation then.
[ He doesn't think he could have, struggling as he is now, even after given reason; but he's biting back excuses, for the moment. ]
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Yes. You should have.
[ Not giving an inch; to do otherwise wouldn't be genuine. He's disappointed and revolted over what Charles has done to the point of anger and he's not over it. Not even close. ]
But at least you didn't put it off for long enough to make me force it on you.
[ Severus turns away and motions with one hand over his shoulder, Vanishing the chair back to its home as the holodeck door opens to let him out. He leaves, doing nothing to further confirm or deny the fact that he still gives enough of a fuck to have considered shoving help on him anyway. ]
(no subject)