Amanda, Nathan - Wednesday night
Jun. 8th, 2005 10:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsNathan stops by whilst Amanda's watching Meggan sleep. There's comparative parenting talk. And little in the way of guilt trips for a change. Someone's growing up.
She wasn't hurt. Amanda had to keep reminding herself of that as she sat by Meggan's bedside, watching her sleep and stroking the small, leathery paw that had clutched at her hand so tightly as Meggan had fallen asleep. She wasn't hurt and she'd come back and nothing awful had happened. As long as Amanda kept reminding herself of that, she could keep the worry, the guilt at bay. Besides, guilt wouldn't keep Meggan safe the next time. She needed Amanda strong, in control, not falling apart and declaring herself a monster.
Even if there was a small part of herself that was railing against the weakness that had meant she'd failed her.
In the hall outside, Nathan paused for a moment, long enough to confirm to himself that Amanda and Meggan were the only ones in the suite, before he reached out to Amanda's mind in the telepathic equivalent of a knock. If Meggan was sleeping, he didn't want to wake her.
Amanda blinked, and sent back the equivalent of a 'come in', carefully drawing her hand back and tucking Meggan's bear in next to her. The same bear she herself had been clutching since she'd realised Meggan was gone. "I'll just be in the next room," she whispered, even though Meggan was deeply asleep, exhausted by the whole thing. She was getting to her feet as the door opened soundlessly. "Hey."
Nathan tilted his head at her as he came in, closing the door just as quietly behind him. "You look about ready to fall over," he said softly, going over and sitting down on the couch, indicating the spot beside him. "Come sit down?"
Amanda followed, leaving the door ajar so Meggan would hear their voices should she wake. It took every ounce of control she had not to collapse onto the couch, instead sitting almost neatly next to him. "She's all right," she murmured, the mantra still cycling through her head. "They didn't hurt her, Moira made sure."
He noticed the overcontrolled demeanor, of course, and would have even if she hadn't been projecting. "I know," he said quietly. "I don't watch through Moira's eyes while she's working, but I do pay careful attention to the link." He didn't try to touch, not yet and perhaps not at all. She was clinging to control entirely too doggedly, and he didn't want to undermine that if that was what she needed to cope with this. "What about you?"
Amanda let out a breath, reminded herself that this was Nathan, she didn't have to pretend with him. "It's hard t' realise she's back an' safe an' nothin' happened to her," she admitted. "I was so scared..." Her voice shook and she bit her lip. "But fallin' in a heap won't help her. She needs me t' be there for her, not doped up in medlab. I'm... tryin'." She gave him a tiny smile. "Once it sinks in, that she's safe, I think I'll be better."
"It's the worst moment for any parent, but it comes to all of us. In one form or another." Nathan's eyes lingered on her face, his gaze intent, yet calm. "It's the moment you realize that you can't always protect them, however badly you want to." He shook his head slowly, his attention dropping to her clenched, visibly white-knuckled hands. "And there's nothing to do but learn to live with it," he went on, almost inaudibly. "The uncertainty. It'll wake you up sweating and shaking in the middle of the night, and there's nothing you can do to make it go away. But the fear's so strong because it reflects the love, Amanda."
She nodded briefly, not sure of her voice for a minute. "I feel like I should say sorry," she said at last, with a strangled chuckle. "All the shite I got into, all that hassle... 'm surprised yer hair hasn't turned white." Forcing her hands to unclench, she reached over and hesitantly touched his arm. "Does it... is there any way t' make it less scary?" she asked, looking up at him finally. "All I could think, while she was gone, was if I'd only been quicker, if I'd been stronger, I might've been able t' stop..." Shaking her head, she clamped her eyes shut. "This doesn't help, blamin' meself. I know it don't. But I can't help thinkin' there had t' be somethin' I should've done."
"You know, I still, to this day, wake up in the middle of the night thinking about all the things I could have done differently," Nathan said after a moment, an edge of sadness to the soft words. "It's a double-edged sword, you know. The desire to do better, to do the best for a child that you can... because it's always leading you to second-guess yourself, to reassess the actions you take and the choices you make..."
He stopped, reaching out to cover her hand with one of his. "The only thing you can do, really," he said, more gently, "is to remember that for every time you aren't quite... good enough, or fast enough, or strong enough, there are five times that you're everything she needs. And the times that you aren't, aren't always going to be like this. They're not even mostly going to be like this."
"Like I need t' doubt myself any more than I already do," Amanda said with a wry snort. But the tremble was starting to go from her voice, and her hands, even if her face was still pinched and worried. "I just hope that I am what she needs, Nate. I mean, I'm tryin', an' she's happy most of the time, but considerin' where she came from, I think gettin' enough food an' not bein' locked up'd be enough for that."
"I sometimes wish I could share my ability with people. Just for a day at a time, that sort of thing." Nathan smiled a little. "Remind me, the next time she's awake and I see the two of you together, to let you see how she sees you. I think that should answer that question pretty conclusively." He patted her hand gently. "She doesn't love you because you feed her and give her free range of the house."
"She doesn't?" Amanda hadn't meant it to sound so questioning - she knew Meggan adored her, but it was hard, after a long sleepless night of worry and strain, not to mention the constant feeling of being watched, or being judged, that she'd had ever since that talk with Alison, not to doubt. And no-one had said she was doing all right, only pointed out places where she had missed something. "I'm just so scared of fuckin' up, makin' her a nutter like me. When she disappeared, it was like it was all bein' proved. An' it wasn't me that was goin' t' hurt." She ran her hands through her hair, took a deep breath. "All right, whinin' done. I can't stop everythin', but I can try harder, get people t' help more so I'm not runnin' meself ragged."
Nathan reached out and smoothed her rumpled hair back down. "She loves you," he said quietly, then switched to Askani, "~like a flower loves the sun. Because you give her the steady strength to flourish.~" He stopped, took a deep breath, then went on in English. "Nightmares can be real sometimes. This has been one. But you've both woken up from it, and she's here with you, not hurt. She'll open her eyes, look up at you, and expect you to be her Amanda. It's natural," he said, choosing his words very carefully, "to want to try harder. But remember that she needs you with her in the moment, not just looking to secure her future."
"I want t' be that for her, I really do." Amanda smiled briefly at the touch of his hand on her hair - they'd been rather non-contact with each other ever since she'd gotten back, and she understood the reasons for it - hell, she'd instituted part of it - but it didn't mean she didn't miss it. "When I'm with her, an' I see her playin' an' laughin' an' comin' along so fast... I know I'm not doin' so bad. There's so much I don't know, an' I try not t' take people pointin' out me mistakes personal, but... be nice t' have someone say 'hey, she's doin' good with you', y'know?" Another snort. "Pathetic, I know, wantin' t' get praised for doin' somethin' any decent person would do."
"You don't stop being a human being just because you have a child to look after," Nathan pointed out. "We all need the validation, it's just that..." He paused, contemplatively. "I suppose people do think that parenting is a natural thing. Something that people just do, like it's as much a biological function as actually making the baby in the first place." A brief, wry smile tugged at his lips. "Which it's not." He paused again, thinking. "You've helped her be happy," he said finally. "You really have."
Tension visibly drained from Amanda's posture, and she finally relaxed into something like her normal seated slouch. "Thank you," she said at last. "I think... I needed t' hear that." Without realising, she leaned against Nathan's shoulder, closing her eyes. "Who'd have thought all that sittin' 'round doin' nothin' would be so tirin'?" she joked.
"Well. All that stress, nothing to do with it." He put his arm around her shoulders, a bit tentatively. "It's going to be all right," he murmured. "When you and she have both gotten some sleep, you need to get up and get back to something as close to your daily routine as you can. It'll be good for both of you. This is just an interruption. A scary as hell interruption, but the two of you have a life to live."
Amanda nodded. "Sounds best." She yawned, and tried not to use Nathan as a pillow. "I should get t' bed. Dead on me feet. Wanna have breakfast with us tomorrow? Talkin' of normal things an' all..."
"Have breakfast? Forget that. I'll make breakfast," he said very determinedly. "I think occasions like this call for French toast, don't you?" He paused, his gray eyes brightening suddenly with real humor. "Have you introduced Meg to maple syrup, yet? Or should I plan pre-emptively for sticky Meggans?"
"Considerin' the mess we made with chocolate sauce the other week, you're lookin' at a very sticky Meggan. And the fur just makes it even more fun." Amanda stretched up and kissed his cheek briefly. "But you're the amazin' TK bloke, so I think we'll be all right."
She wasn't hurt. Amanda had to keep reminding herself of that as she sat by Meggan's bedside, watching her sleep and stroking the small, leathery paw that had clutched at her hand so tightly as Meggan had fallen asleep. She wasn't hurt and she'd come back and nothing awful had happened. As long as Amanda kept reminding herself of that, she could keep the worry, the guilt at bay. Besides, guilt wouldn't keep Meggan safe the next time. She needed Amanda strong, in control, not falling apart and declaring herself a monster.
Even if there was a small part of herself that was railing against the weakness that had meant she'd failed her.
In the hall outside, Nathan paused for a moment, long enough to confirm to himself that Amanda and Meggan were the only ones in the suite, before he reached out to Amanda's mind in the telepathic equivalent of a knock. If Meggan was sleeping, he didn't want to wake her.
Amanda blinked, and sent back the equivalent of a 'come in', carefully drawing her hand back and tucking Meggan's bear in next to her. The same bear she herself had been clutching since she'd realised Meggan was gone. "I'll just be in the next room," she whispered, even though Meggan was deeply asleep, exhausted by the whole thing. She was getting to her feet as the door opened soundlessly. "Hey."
Nathan tilted his head at her as he came in, closing the door just as quietly behind him. "You look about ready to fall over," he said softly, going over and sitting down on the couch, indicating the spot beside him. "Come sit down?"
Amanda followed, leaving the door ajar so Meggan would hear their voices should she wake. It took every ounce of control she had not to collapse onto the couch, instead sitting almost neatly next to him. "She's all right," she murmured, the mantra still cycling through her head. "They didn't hurt her, Moira made sure."
He noticed the overcontrolled demeanor, of course, and would have even if she hadn't been projecting. "I know," he said quietly. "I don't watch through Moira's eyes while she's working, but I do pay careful attention to the link." He didn't try to touch, not yet and perhaps not at all. She was clinging to control entirely too doggedly, and he didn't want to undermine that if that was what she needed to cope with this. "What about you?"
Amanda let out a breath, reminded herself that this was Nathan, she didn't have to pretend with him. "It's hard t' realise she's back an' safe an' nothin' happened to her," she admitted. "I was so scared..." Her voice shook and she bit her lip. "But fallin' in a heap won't help her. She needs me t' be there for her, not doped up in medlab. I'm... tryin'." She gave him a tiny smile. "Once it sinks in, that she's safe, I think I'll be better."
"It's the worst moment for any parent, but it comes to all of us. In one form or another." Nathan's eyes lingered on her face, his gaze intent, yet calm. "It's the moment you realize that you can't always protect them, however badly you want to." He shook his head slowly, his attention dropping to her clenched, visibly white-knuckled hands. "And there's nothing to do but learn to live with it," he went on, almost inaudibly. "The uncertainty. It'll wake you up sweating and shaking in the middle of the night, and there's nothing you can do to make it go away. But the fear's so strong because it reflects the love, Amanda."
She nodded briefly, not sure of her voice for a minute. "I feel like I should say sorry," she said at last, with a strangled chuckle. "All the shite I got into, all that hassle... 'm surprised yer hair hasn't turned white." Forcing her hands to unclench, she reached over and hesitantly touched his arm. "Does it... is there any way t' make it less scary?" she asked, looking up at him finally. "All I could think, while she was gone, was if I'd only been quicker, if I'd been stronger, I might've been able t' stop..." Shaking her head, she clamped her eyes shut. "This doesn't help, blamin' meself. I know it don't. But I can't help thinkin' there had t' be somethin' I should've done."
"You know, I still, to this day, wake up in the middle of the night thinking about all the things I could have done differently," Nathan said after a moment, an edge of sadness to the soft words. "It's a double-edged sword, you know. The desire to do better, to do the best for a child that you can... because it's always leading you to second-guess yourself, to reassess the actions you take and the choices you make..."
He stopped, reaching out to cover her hand with one of his. "The only thing you can do, really," he said, more gently, "is to remember that for every time you aren't quite... good enough, or fast enough, or strong enough, there are five times that you're everything she needs. And the times that you aren't, aren't always going to be like this. They're not even mostly going to be like this."
"Like I need t' doubt myself any more than I already do," Amanda said with a wry snort. But the tremble was starting to go from her voice, and her hands, even if her face was still pinched and worried. "I just hope that I am what she needs, Nate. I mean, I'm tryin', an' she's happy most of the time, but considerin' where she came from, I think gettin' enough food an' not bein' locked up'd be enough for that."
"I sometimes wish I could share my ability with people. Just for a day at a time, that sort of thing." Nathan smiled a little. "Remind me, the next time she's awake and I see the two of you together, to let you see how she sees you. I think that should answer that question pretty conclusively." He patted her hand gently. "She doesn't love you because you feed her and give her free range of the house."
"She doesn't?" Amanda hadn't meant it to sound so questioning - she knew Meggan adored her, but it was hard, after a long sleepless night of worry and strain, not to mention the constant feeling of being watched, or being judged, that she'd had ever since that talk with Alison, not to doubt. And no-one had said she was doing all right, only pointed out places where she had missed something. "I'm just so scared of fuckin' up, makin' her a nutter like me. When she disappeared, it was like it was all bein' proved. An' it wasn't me that was goin' t' hurt." She ran her hands through her hair, took a deep breath. "All right, whinin' done. I can't stop everythin', but I can try harder, get people t' help more so I'm not runnin' meself ragged."
Nathan reached out and smoothed her rumpled hair back down. "She loves you," he said quietly, then switched to Askani, "~like a flower loves the sun. Because you give her the steady strength to flourish.~" He stopped, took a deep breath, then went on in English. "Nightmares can be real sometimes. This has been one. But you've both woken up from it, and she's here with you, not hurt. She'll open her eyes, look up at you, and expect you to be her Amanda. It's natural," he said, choosing his words very carefully, "to want to try harder. But remember that she needs you with her in the moment, not just looking to secure her future."
"I want t' be that for her, I really do." Amanda smiled briefly at the touch of his hand on her hair - they'd been rather non-contact with each other ever since she'd gotten back, and she understood the reasons for it - hell, she'd instituted part of it - but it didn't mean she didn't miss it. "When I'm with her, an' I see her playin' an' laughin' an' comin' along so fast... I know I'm not doin' so bad. There's so much I don't know, an' I try not t' take people pointin' out me mistakes personal, but... be nice t' have someone say 'hey, she's doin' good with you', y'know?" Another snort. "Pathetic, I know, wantin' t' get praised for doin' somethin' any decent person would do."
"You don't stop being a human being just because you have a child to look after," Nathan pointed out. "We all need the validation, it's just that..." He paused, contemplatively. "I suppose people do think that parenting is a natural thing. Something that people just do, like it's as much a biological function as actually making the baby in the first place." A brief, wry smile tugged at his lips. "Which it's not." He paused again, thinking. "You've helped her be happy," he said finally. "You really have."
Tension visibly drained from Amanda's posture, and she finally relaxed into something like her normal seated slouch. "Thank you," she said at last. "I think... I needed t' hear that." Without realising, she leaned against Nathan's shoulder, closing her eyes. "Who'd have thought all that sittin' 'round doin' nothin' would be so tirin'?" she joked.
"Well. All that stress, nothing to do with it." He put his arm around her shoulders, a bit tentatively. "It's going to be all right," he murmured. "When you and she have both gotten some sleep, you need to get up and get back to something as close to your daily routine as you can. It'll be good for both of you. This is just an interruption. A scary as hell interruption, but the two of you have a life to live."
Amanda nodded. "Sounds best." She yawned, and tried not to use Nathan as a pillow. "I should get t' bed. Dead on me feet. Wanna have breakfast with us tomorrow? Talkin' of normal things an' all..."
"Have breakfast? Forget that. I'll make breakfast," he said very determinedly. "I think occasions like this call for French toast, don't you?" He paused, his gray eyes brightening suddenly with real humor. "Have you introduced Meg to maple syrup, yet? Or should I plan pre-emptively for sticky Meggans?"
"Considerin' the mess we made with chocolate sauce the other week, you're lookin' at a very sticky Meggan. And the fur just makes it even more fun." Amanda stretched up and kissed his cheek briefly. "But you're the amazin' TK bloke, so I think we'll be all right."
