Thanks to hippichick2112, ellie, and ladygris for reviewing!
Scott left his bike outside the community college. He felt immensely out of place as he stepped onto campus. Not only was he much too young to be here and disheveled from the long ride, he had not set foot in a proper school for years.
His first attempt at locating one of Alex's professors (…teachers, Scott decided, that word had a rather specific proper usage) was a bust. He tried the woman's office before asking at the admissions office and learning that she was not in that day.
The next teacher he found had a class in session. It was held in a lecture hall like an auditorium, so Scott slipped in and sat at the back.
What Alex's class studied seemed complicated. It was a math beyond what Scott even knew existed, eons beyond his rudimentary algebra. He tried to follow what the teacher said or even to understand what the students asked. He couldn't.
When the class was dismissed—without a bell, just a word from the teacher—Scott waited for the other students to file past. Then he approached the front of the room. To say he was not afraid would be a lie. He was, very much… and he didn't know why. Something about this man just made him uncomfortable.
"E-excuse me."
The teacher was middle-aged and paunchy, rather what one expected of a college teacher (only without the spectacles and leather-patched tweed blazer).
"You were late," he observed. "If you're expecting your attendance to be counted, you—ah." He had looked up from his papers and paused. "You're a bit young to be one of mine."
"No, sir, I'm not," Scott agreed. "My brother is in your class, Alex—Alexander Summers."
"He's in my class," the teacher confirmed. "He's doing well—was doing well, since the past few weeks. Hasn't been here at all this week."
That confirmed what Scott had already concluded: Alex had stopped going to school. Apparently his school did have spring break—he'd seen a poster saying so, advertising a highway clean-up that week—but afterward, Alex simply chose not to go back.
"I wanted to talk to you about that. I know Alex has been… he's been struggling lately—"
"All my students are adults, young man, they are responsible for their own behavior."
The rebuke silenced Scott and he wasn't sure why. He forced himself to take a deep breath. What was he afraid this man would do, after all? Why was he so scared?
"Of course, sir. I don't disagree, I only… hoped to pick up Alex's assignments… if he might be able to make them up." Scott wasn't suggesting special treatment for his brother. He only wanted to be able to go home and… and ask Ruth to make Alex do his work properly.
The teacher chuckled. "I appreciate an adaptive approach," whatever that meant… "but Mr. Summers is not due any more leniency than any other student."
Scott squeezed his nails into his palms. Pain was easier, clearer than fear.
"I have no doubt he sent his more diplomatic counterpart in the hopes that—"
"His friend died."
Finally, the teacher actually stopped and seemed to listen.
"Was shot." Actually Scott was not clear on this point, or sure why he thought Sean had been shot. The truth was just too complicated: he died on a mission, you see, my brother is a superhero. "Right in front of him. He was nineteen and Alex watched him die, and all, all I'm asking is that you let him make up the work. Mark it half credit. Unless everyone else in your class watched their best friend die, too, Alex—Alex is different. His circumstances are different. And he didn't send me. I'm here because I'm a good brother."
And you're a cynical monster if you can't imagine doing something just because you love someone.
It was the sort of thing Ororo might have said and Scott wouldn't dare, but he enjoyed thinking it.
The teacher regarded him for a moment. "Wait here."
Scott did, imagining every terrible thing that might happen to him. He imagined that the teacher had gone to call his parents, or somehow would track down Mr. Milbury because that's what happened to troublemakers—or, no, that was impossible, but Ruth might show up to take him home. Even though this wasn't the sort of thing he imagined she would be mad about, she probably would be if she was dragged out here and…
Or maybe the teacher had gone to find the school principal (as Scott assumed all schools had, not knowing that schools could have deans and presidents). It didn't make sense to worry—what could they do, yell at him? Except that they could do worse to Alex. What if being a nuisance had got his brother expelled? What if—
"Here we are."
The teacher returned, looking calm as ever. He held out a sheet of paper.
"This'll be your brother's work from my class and the others. He's lucky some of my other students share his schedule."
Scott took the page like it was the most precious, fragile thing he had ever held. He nodded. "I'll tell him. Thank you."
He knew there were bigger problems back home. The world felt like it was falling apart and what did Scott do? Built a blanket fort. Got Alex's homework. He would go home and things would be overwhelming again… but for just a moment, with this task completed, he let himself feel good.