Scott had spent the entire time as a spectator. He liked planetariums too and really anything that had to do with Astronomy. He just struggled with verbalizing a lot of things—his hobbies included. Even at the gift shop as Hank perused, Scott excitedly picked up his own memorabilia. There were a lot of things to be happy about and the relief poured over him the more time they spent at the museum. Usually, he’d be smiling while internally he over analyzed everything but the night wasn’t like that. Scott was truly free of his concerns for one night. There was a lot of laughing on his part—not because he was poking fun at Hank but because he really felt comfortable being there with him and he found it incredibly endearing how something like the word ‘NASA’ or the mention of a specific satellite could just turn his best friend’s life upside down. Now, Scott liked a lot of things but he never had something like that. He never truly had the chance to attach himself to anything so seeing Henry reminded him of being a normal teenager. It was something he only saw in movies.
After walking home together and a long talk about anything and everything, Scott was still going on about Star Wars and how he felt when he first saw the movie. It was certainly a different side of Scott that not many people got to see. For a 19 year old, he was always business even with his teammates. He was learning to separate and with Charles not in the picture, it was easier to do that. When they arrived back at the condo, Scott took a breath after checking on Bobby and then looked over to Hank. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He should have known that Hank would question Scott’s motives and it wasn’t a bad thing. This was just how Hank was. Scott didn’t mind it.
“Are you asking me why I took you out or why I took you to the planetarium? Those are two different questions.” He grinned and shook his head. “I wanted to do something nice with you after everything we had been through. I know you think I’ve ignored your letter or perhaps I don’t want to bring it up but I didn’t know how to without making you feel weird about it. It took a lot of courage—writing what you wrote and even more courage to tell the rest of the team.” He leaned against the wall. “I don’t think I’m that bold.” Scott looked down at his shoes. “I wanted to see what it was like. Spending time alone with you. I’d like to do that again. Maybe see where that takes us. Listen, Hank I’m not sure of a lot of things but I’m sure of the fact that I love you and you’re very important to me. So…maybe we can take it from there. See what happens?”
in all honesty, hank was pretty sure that knowing he’d be seeing episode eight was one of the things helping scott feel better about being stuck here. hank’s always liked when scott gets excited about things besides training or diplomacy, and it’s been happening more since being here in 2017. hank has been reading a lot about things like ptsd and emotional abuse, and the more he reads the more he wishes he could fix it or even just keep scott safe and away from the world, because somehow for all his walls he still takes things so personally. over the years hank has told him a thousand times when things aren’t scott’s fault. he doesn’t think scott’s ever believed him before, though. it’s not pleasant thinking that their teacher had done this to scott, but the evidence pointed to it. or more accurately, he’d taken advantage of the foundations laid by others, even if he’d been unaware of their presence. scott’s entire childhood had been about conditioning him not to be a child. now he’s nineteen and for the first time in his life there’s not anyone telling him what to do next.
hank decides the way scott’s face lights up when he talks about luke skywalker is the best thing he’s ever seen. maybe it’s messed up that it took time travel for all of them to start acting their age. hank’s a little bit grateful anyway.
and then scott says the word letter and hank takes a millisecond to put it together, and then fight-or-flight kicks in but none of the appropriate processes are functioning so hank’s just entirely still like a deer in the headlights. he hates eye contact but he’s staring right at scott, has to remind himself to breathe. even once he does they’re shallow, like he thinks if he makes too much of a sound something’s going to go wrong. there’s something awfully ironic about the idea that the one time in his life hank wouldn’t mind disassociating he’s entirely present right here. his brain is entirely focused in on the way scott’s hair is getting long in the front and halfway to falling in his eyes, the way he talks so easily, managing to say exactly what he means without any of the hesitations or overcomplications that hank is so consumed by.
hank decides he’d be okay with almost all the worst outcomes, here, as long as scott doesnt’ leave. god, he hopes scott doesn’t leave. hank’s not used to hanging on people’s words like this - normally when people speak, he’s half a step ahead, mind already on to another topic. human beings - even mutants - are predictable when they feel safe. it’s easy enough to guess their intent before the sentence is finished. right now hank has no ideas, though, and he feels lost, stumbling in the dark, hoping scott knows the way well enough for both of them.
scott says “i love you” and it’s the middle of a sentence but hank says “i love you too” on autopilot, because some responses are deeper encoded than even the crisis protocol. he catches up with the rest of scott’s words, and the first thing he replies with before thinking (a first for him) is “i don’t want things to be different.” that’s not exactly right, though, shit. “i don’t want you to feel like it has to be,” he settles on. “i like the way things are now. i’m content. you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to just because you think you should for my sake, or anything.”
