two (2) shattered halves

Scorp POV - (reconsiliation: reconsidered)

Scorpius marinated in his own thoughts for quite some time. he sat in the smallest room he could find in his massive manor (dad what the heck? I want a small room so I can be angery(trademark) and confined to a bare, 24 square-foot room. What's up with this "go to your floor" nonsense???), running over his past decisions again and again. If he was counting his steps, he'd have gotten more than that time Albus had when running from an allegedly poisonous duck for over three hours. Anyway. He attempted to wipe the smile off his face; but he couldn't. The memory of Albus' (quite comical) pain was still hilarious, even a year or two afterward.

Scorpius tried to draw conclusions, and thus came to this:

Scorpius needed Albus to really feel alive. Yes, his ribcage was intact and his lungs were fine, but he missed how Albus somehow managed to make him feel like he was living on the edge, less confined by his anxiety and more free. More no-regrets. More effortlessly swag . Scorp missed living vicariously through his friend. Albus dared him to try new things and go on new adventures he wouldn't have considered otherwise. It was kind of nice to step out of his comfort zone, but only a little at a time. Somehow, Albus almost... respected? Scorpius's fears while still being a blatant Hecknut to many others.
Albus also probably needed him, too. Scorpius was his rock, his frame. The taller blond helped Albus make rational decisions and stay safe. Scorpius dearly hoped his friend wasn't drinking paint because he read a tumblr post about how it made Van Gogh happy. (It didn't. He drank paint because he knew it was toxic, not because he thought having ocre yellow coating his stomach would make his cells joyous and love life again.)
But did Scorp want to be his friend? Wasn't he a bully with no regard for safety or bylaws? Yes, it made him look kind of foolish, but Scorpius quite liked wearing his helmet while riding his broom. Then he wouldn't have an eighth of as many concussions as the Potter boy. Yet if he didn't try to reconcile, the best nine years of his life would be tainted with sour memories about how Scorpius finally snapped, and how something so lovely ended to harshly. He didn't want to ruin that...
Taking a deep breath, Scorpius tried to sift through his conclusions.  He was ready to forgive, even if it was mostly for Albus's benefit. Because true friends? They don't do what's always best, or most convenient, for themselves. They do what's right for the other, because friendship is being a good solid frame, even if the bricks aren't. Or something. The two wrote out a Friendship Code when they were twelve, and that was the bulk of it. (And a cruddy drawing of a mince pie. Both boys loved mince pies back then)