Summary: There was an incident, and Scott's gotten a taste of a particularly bitter medicine.
"Scott, you've been squirrely since I came home."
"Ah, uh, yeah, sorry," Scott unwittingly mimicked Alan with his hand behind his head, "I'm just still processing what happened with Berezikia and Lichtenstein."
"And that Spectrum had to step in?" Conrad lead.
"Yeah," Scott admitted sheepishly, "and I'm, I'm beginning to understand how Nia felt."
"Ah."
"Because there's a part of me that wants to ask, no demand that you resign from Spectrum and join I.R." Scott stopped fighting the tears, "because I can't stand the thought of how wrong that all could have gone, and I would never get... But I can't, any more that she could ask me to stop going on rescues."
Conrad waited.
Scott shrugged.
"On rescue missions everything that can go wrong has, but I still feel an element of control. When everything went wrong the Peace Talks, and you..."
"Put myself between an assassin with a perfectly good, almost noble reason and a leader no one really wants to defend? We don't get to pick and chose who we protect, Scottie, any more than you get to chose who you rescue. We have to defend the alleged 'unworthy' because it's a slippery slope in defining who is 'worthy.' I don't have to like it. You don't have to like it. But it has to be done."
"And that's why you're the one with the license to kill, and not me," Scott chuckled wearily.
Conrad shrugged and opened his arms which were rapidly filled with his husband.
"I can't promise anything, Scottie, but as long I am breathing I will find a way home to you," he whispered into Scott's ear, his own tears coming, "nothing on this Earth or off will stop me."