Scars are more than skin-deep. (M!Anon: Stuck in white martian form with no recollection of telling the team.)
Girly things? Conner pressed his ear harder against the door as he frowned. Since when did M’gann do girly things? He heard shifting within the room but nothing that he could really define. Probably just from moving around in bed or in the room. He sighed and pulled away, unsure of what route he should take. He didn’t want to pry into her personal space—he hated when she did that and they never crossed that line… but she sounded upset.
You’re not rambling, M’gann. If… you need the space then… okay, I’ll leave you alone. If you’re upset you can just tell me. Whatever it is. That should be enough to appease her and his guilty conscience. He pulled away and started down the hall, eventually pausing to look back to the locked bedroom door again. Was it something I did, M’gann?
No, Conner! You didn’t do anything, please don’t think that!
M’gann sat up and wrapped her long Martian arms around her knees, tucking her head under like this would all go away if she curled up enough and got smaller and smaller until she disappeared. In Martian form, she couldn’t even cry.
I’m just dealing with some stuff, is all. But it’s just me, you’re great. You’re perfect. It’s just me.
At least her voice couldn’t crack when she was speaking telepathically. If she was still in humanoid form, M’gann probably wouldn’t have been able to speak without bursting into tears— then again, if she was in humanoid form she wouldn’t be having this problem in the first place.
She wondered what Conner looked like there, outside her door. His face was probably contorted into something cute and concerned. He always did that thing where he’d furrow his eyebrows and get really serious when he thought something was wrong. M’gann smiled internally through her imaginary tears. For someone who had such anger and pain, he always was so gentle, so kind… She didn’t deserve him— not while she was a liar and a fake and a monster.