xp_logs | Nathan and Madelyn, backdated to Monday morning

Backdated to Monday morning. Nathan fills Madelyn in on how the meting with Saul went. She has some plans of her own to check up on things, and some advice for him. Nathan continues to deal rather well with the situation.

It didn't take too long to track Madelyn down. He was getting quite good at locating specific minds without letting his shields down too far, even with the house in as much of an (admittedly pleasant) uproar as it was this morning with 'Green Day'.

"I see you went all out," he said dryly, walking out onto the porch and noticed that Madelyn was very green. Hair and skin, and she looked quite pleased with herself.

"Hey, it's been a while since St Paddy's, and it's for a good cause," she replied with a smile, turning to face him. She'd been soaking up the sun and coffee in equal amounts as the Hank-sized mug in her hands attested to. "Besides, I always did like dressing up as a kid. But hey, looking rather verdent yourself." She nodded at his hair. "Covers the grey nicely."

Nathan scoffed at her. "Don't get too used to it," he said, lowering himself into the chair next to hers. "I'm stripping it out telekinetically before I head to bed tonight. Moira laughed a little bit too hard. I don't think it's good for her."

"Laughing can never be bad for you," Madelyn admonished him in the same vein. "Still, I'm sure there will be enough photos to commemorate the event."

"There was a distressing amount of flashes in the halls as I made my way down here, yes," Nathan agreed, slouching in the chair - or trying to, before his back reminded him that certain positions were still Not Good. "So, um," he went on a bit awkwardly as he straightened, "I feel badly about not having knocked on your door last night. To tell you how the meeting went."

"You probably needed time to process things." Madelyn's tone was quiet. "And no doubt Alison and Haroun gave you more to think about, not to mention Moira. Me weighing in would hardly have been productive given the overload you were dealing with already." Wrapping her hands around her mug, she glanced over at him. "If you want to talk now... well, I'm not going anywhere and I would like to know."

Nathan took a deep breath, staring out at the grounds, and told her. As succinctly as possible, without leaving any critical details out. It helped to think of it as a briefing, part of him reflected. Rather than proof that... no, not going there just yet.

"...and he believed every word he was saying, I could tell that much," Nathan concluded with a sigh. "Everything I was sensing... I really wish there'd been something there to make me think he was lying. It would have been so much easier that way."

Madelyn was silent for a long time, going over what he'd said, applying it to what she'd been able to find out. "It would," she agreed at last. "It seems... too good to be true? Although I'm guessing that's already crossed your mind."

Nathan flushed a little, his eyes sliding towards her for a moment before his gaze shifted back to the grounds. "I suppose," he said, and it didn't sound particularly convincing. "Only makes sense to be skeptical, right?"

"Well, given the discrepency between what you remember and what he told you..." Madelyn looked more closely at Nathan. "Although what makes sense isn't always what we feel. Emotions being as illogical as they are."

"Maddie..." Nathan trailed off, shaking his head a little. "Who's got more credibility here?" he asked with a sigh. "Given how my mind's been screwed with. It fits... entirely too well as an explanation for the memory gaps."

"Nathan, the things I've seen here over the past two years run roughshod over credibility and logic and all the rest of it," Madelyn replied with a brief snort. "Coincidences you'd never credit, people coming back from the dead, assassins programmed by the CIA and activated by code words... So we're going to set aside the credibility thing for a start. Stranger things have happened, and trauma is as perfectly a good reason for the gaps in your memory as what Saul's saying being the truth. I've been digging around... the group your family was part of _was_ on the to-be-watched list by Project Meggido, although I'm still trying to get more information. That isn't done lightly."

Nathan opened his mouth and then closed it again. "You--I mean, it was an experimental community, according to some of the documents he gave me," he went on unevenly. "Which I'll show you, by the way. They're scientific papers. My mother wrote them."

Madelyn nodded. "I'd like to see them - it'd help a lot. And maybe if I can find some of the others who were there, talk to them... Getting another side can't hurt."

"Three sides to every story?" Nathan tried to quip, weakly. "Wouldn't it be funny if we dug up some former residents and they told us that my--that Saul and I were both wrong?"

"I wouldn't discount it entirely - the other thing I've learned about this place and the people in it? _Nothing_ is impossible." But she said it with a smile, not meaning it in a bad way. "I've already told you, I deal with hard facts, remember? I understand what this means for you, Nathan - no-one would be as overjoyed as me to find your memories were wrong and that you had the chance to build a relationship with your father..." She reached over and touched the back of his hand gently. "But because of the emotional connections, the fact there's so much at stake here for you... I want to be cautious. Prove _someone's_ story beyond reasonable doubt."

"People keep saying that," Nathan said with a sigh. "That this would be wonderful, but let's be careful, I mean. I should be agreeing wholeheartedly with all of you." Instead he wanted to go hide until they stopped making such a fuss about it, and wouldn't Jack have a field day with the implications of that? "You know," he said, deliberately shifting the topic a little, "I haven't said anything to Amanda about any of this? Hell, nothing to any of the kids, but she's liable to be a little shocked at this, given her own suddenly appearing family this year." He shook his head slowly. "Really haven't talked about this a lot at all."

"Probably because we're all being terribly sensible at you about the whole thing," Madelyn said with a wry snort. "Which is generally what you don't want to hear when you're faced with something you want more than anything." The mention of Amanda made her expression cloud a little, even as it prompted something. "It's pretty obvious Amanda and I... don't get on," she continued. "But I've never really said why. I didn't really realise until after Alison was hurt in October." She turned her eyes to the grounds, voice turning thoughtful. "That mission in Iceland, when Moira and I got powers... the healing was what I've wanted all my life. There were any number of reasons to give it up - the price was too high. But do you know, none of that mattered? All those nice, sensible reasons for why the Firefountain should be capped, I couldn't give a damn, not as long as I could keep what it had given me. But in the end the choice wasn't mine, and the Fountain was capped and the powers went away." She paused, taking a sip of coffee to ease the dryness of her throat. "And then there's Amanda, doing what I used to be able to, and not seeming to appreciate the scope of it. Treating it like it was nothing, when I'd give my right arm for that ability again..." She gave Nathan a rueful smile. "Not terribly professional, being jealous of a kid. But that's how it is, sometimes. And I can maybe see a little where you're coming from. You have this chance, and you've got all these people who _have_ what you want telling you to be careful, to not let yourself hope..." Trailing off, she smiled a little sheepishly. "Or I could be completely wrong."

"No," Nathan said, mustering a faint smile in return, "I suspect you're pretty much spot-on. It's just..." He stopped, taking a deep breath, and tried to banish the bleak pain from his expression as he went on. "... so very tempting, the possibility that it might not have been as bad as I thought. That I had parents who loved me. Of course," he went on, the smile coming back, if strained, "that then begs the question of why I did leave Alaska, but let's not go there just yet."

"One thing at a time," Madelyn agreed. "You wouldn't be the man you are if you weren't tempted to accept the whole thing without a second thought, Nathan. You've been through so much, had so much taken from you..." She sighed. "Which is why your friends are being so careful for you. Not because we want this to turn out to be a lie, but because we can see how badly you want it."

"I'm touched. No, I actually am," Nathan said with a hesitant, oddly forlorn chuckle. "I know I'm not being as smart about this as I should be, but it's almost impossible to be. Even sitting there across from him and knowing that on the level of instinct I was still as afraid of him as I was... as I remember being back then."

"The human mind is a complicated and confusing phenomenon," Madelyn said, with just a hint of imitating Hank. "This whole situation defies logic, Nathan. I'm not surprised you're all over the place trying to deal with it."

"The terrible trio - you know, the ones with psychology degrees and an interest in my well-being, for various reasons - want to go digging. To see if my memory can't be jogged." Nathan made a face. "I shouldn't say digging. You'd think I had some reason not to like people in my head, wouldn't you?"

"I'm not taking that last question seriously," Madelyn said, poking him. "For Christ's sake, Nathan, you're allowed to be twitchy about people examining your memories. Especially when there's a chance they might not be as real as you've always believed."

He blinked, then poked her back. "Just trying to be funny. If we can't use humor as a coping mechanism, where would we be?" He managed a faint smile at her snort. "I'm okay, Maddie," he said more softly, after a moment. "Or I will be. I know I'm not doing this alone, and that's the important thing."

"It is," she agreed softly. "We'll sort this out," she continued, a bit more firmly. "The answers might not be what you want, or maybe they will, but... again, you won't be doing it alone."