It wasn't until he crossed the threshold into what would have been his father's quarters that the full weight of the day landed on him. His world tilted on its axis. Or maybe it was the ship? Still, his head swam as the room spun and he reached out, gripping the bar at the terminal near the front of the ship. His room - The Pathfinder's room - had the most amazing view, and he felt overwhelmed by his insignificance and inexperience.
In this moment, infantile as it may be, he missed his mom. He missed his father. He missed Sara. And he had somehow managed to fuck things up with Cora - though, that had been inevitable. His grip on the bar tightened. His knuckles white as he swallowed hard, forcing his fear back down. Sure, she'd teased him and called him charming after lashing out at him over his father's actions, but he knew she was still hurt and he didn't know how to fix it. He hadn't wanted to be a Pathfinder. He still didn't want to be a Pathfinder. Yet, here he was.
"Pathfinder-" SAMs oddly digital voice echoed in the room, or inside his head. That was another thing too difficult for him to comprehend; just how tied to SAM was he?
"SAM, I think we're beyond titles, aren't we?" Scott winced at the exhaustion that laced his tone. Maybe he needed a good night sleep. He glanced at the bed.
"Okay, Scott, I am noticing your vitals are elevated; do you require medical assistance?"
Scott snorted. Definitely beyond titles. "No, Sam, I don't need medical assistance."
"Very well," Sam answered, and the voice went silent leaving an oddly empty feeling in his head. That would take some getting used to. He moved to the bed and sat at the foot, pulling off his boots and letting the day catch up with him. He was midyawn when there was a request for entry at the door. Opening his omni-tool, he granted access and was surprised when Cora crossed the threshold.
"Cora, what's - I mean, what can I do for you?" he asked her, dropping his boots and resting his elbows on his thighs.
"I was about to ask you the same thing. Sam contacted me. Said you needed assistance," she answered. Her voice had lost the hard edge it had when they spoke previously. Her eyes roamed over his face, and he knew there was no point in lying. Not to her.
"Sam and I are going to have to talk about boundaries," Scott muttered, reaching over his head and grabbing his hoodie, he pulled it forward and off. He set it next to him on the bed and watched as Cora's eyes returned to his face. The slightly pink tint to her cheeks told him she'd let her eyes wander. "I'm…" he sighed. "Have you ever had a day or a moment when you just feel like you dropped the reins and everything is spinning out of control and you can't tell which way is up and you're just kind of dragged along with the tide?"
"Nice mixed metaphors," Cora snorted as she moved closer to him and he rolled his eyes and leaned forward again. His eyes landed on his hands, twisting in front of him, as she sat next to him on the bed. "But yeah, I think everyone has days like that." Her voice was soft and warm. When he looked up at her, he saw nothing but kindness and understanding in her eyes.
"Ask me why I wanted to come to Andromeda."
"Okay, I'll bite; why did you want to come to Andromeda?"
"I didn't," he answered. It was the first time he answered that question honestly since he signed up for the Initiative. He didn't miss the look of shock pass over her face. "Mom had just died and Dad and Sara came to me and told me about the Initiative and how they were leaving. What was I supposed to do? Everyone I cared for was gone or leaving and I didn't want to be alone. Now look at me. Dad's dead. Sara's in a coma. You're pissed at me," he dropped his eyes from her.
"Scott," she whispered his name, placing a hand on his arm. His eyes moved to the point of contact, and he covered her hand with his.
"Our success in Andromeda depends on me and I have no idea what I'm doing," he admitted in a whisper. "I have no idea why Dad did this and I'm … I'm angry with him for … for leaving - for bringing us here and dying."
"I know, but Scott, you're not alone," she matched his tone, helping to maintain the near silence in the room. She flexed her hand and laced her fingers with his. Her free hand came up and cupped his cheek. "I can't imagine what you're going through, but I'm not … I'm not pissed at you. I'm pissed at Alec, but that's not your fault. I know that, and … it wasn't fair for me to take it out on you." He nodded, leaning into her touch.
His eyes closed, and he let himself feel her presence. Their linked hands, and her hand on his cheek. He could smell her, feel her biotics beneath her skin. His heart leapt to his throat and he pulled away abruptly. Standing and scrubbing his hands over his face as he turned his back on her.
Deafening silence hummed between them, as she stayed seated on the bed and he kept his back to her. It was a long time before he spoke, and when he did he barely recognized his own voice. "Want to know what my favorite part of all of this is?" he crossed the room towards the bar. He could feel her watching him, and it wasn't unpleasant. He poured two drinks for them, and brought her a glass. "Everyone I met on the Nexus today kept asking for my dad, and I know. I'm not trained. I'm not my dad, but my dad's not here because he's dead. He's dead because he saved me. So, everyone I met today, everytime they asked for him, they were telling me they wished I was dead instead of him."
"That's not-"
"Yeah. Yeah, that's exactly what they were saying, and I get it. Fuck, I wish he was here instead of me, too."
"I don't," Cora interjected simply, as she leaned back on the bed, supporting herself with one hand.
"What?" Scott nearly spit out his drink.
She chuckled softly, her eyes locked on him. "I'm not saying I'm glad he died or anything, but he lost your mom. Sara's in a coma. If he lost you, too, I worry that it would have been too much for him."
He was surprised by the burning he felt in his chest, "But, all of that, it's not too much for me?"
She sat forward, downing the rest of her drink and moving over in front of him. She placed her hand on his chest. "You have something he didn't." He raised an eyebrow in question. "Me." He wasn't sure what made him do it, but he leaned forward and pressed his forehead to hers. She smiled, her eyes on his as he covered her hand on his chest. "So, until this is … over … I'll stay right here, okay?"
"Okay." When she smiled at him, he had the overwhelming sensation that he could do this. He could be the Pathfinder; as long as she was with him, he could do anything.