xp_logs | Moira and Domino, Sunday evening

After giving her some time to settle in and rest, Moira waddles down to see Dom, psych-degree in tow. Probability-warping or no probability-warping, Dom doesn't stand a chance.

Same old guest room. She should have broken Nate's jaw. But that did not class as behaving one's self, and hell, she'd already gotten the chance to get a little of her own back. She'd wait, Domino told herself glumly, sprawled on the bed and staring up at the ceiling.

She supposed she ought to go look up Amanda - she didn't have any idea whether Nathan had told her that she was here or not - but she was tired, and the bed was kind of comfortable. Not that she'd admit that.

Moira paused outside of the guest bedroom door and rubbed her back. She'd forgotten how much waddling one did when one was going to have a baby. And it was very obvious that she was going to have one. Her stomach was big enough that if she leaned back just so she could balance things on it.

"Dom?" she called, giving it a quick knock.

Domino sat bolt upright. "Moira!" She was off the bed and to the door in a flash, ignoring the dizziness in favor of opening the door and hustling the older woman inside and to a chair. "You didn't need to come looking for me," she scolded. "I would have come to you if I'd thought you wanted to see me..."

Unable to get a good look at Domino while she was being settled, Moira just shrugged a little. "Walkin's good for me right now an' I was in this part o' th' mansion anyway, so I decided ta come by. Figured they put ye in th' same room as last time."

When Domino backed up just a bit, Moira turned her head to get a real good look at her. "...besides, ye look like yer due for rest more than I am."

Domino flushed noticeably, even given the sunburn, and she flopped down onto the couch. "Nate hit me. Did he tell you that? Hit me. And then drugged me." There was no real edge to her voice, though. Nathan had told her about the baby, and doing or thinking anything potentially upsetting was so not within the realm of possible action here. "Just because I wanted to go back to what I was doing."

Moira tilted her head slightly at the other woman's words and smiled a little. "Maybe he hit an' drugged ye because ye wanted ta take th' lon' way back?" she asked dryly. "Marchin' yer tired butt across th' desert was nay exactly a good idea."

"I've been marching my tired butt across the desert for weeks now, though," Domino said a bit crossly. She drew her legs up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her knees. "Usually with a couple of dozen people in tow. I could have made it back to Lake Chad just fine, and then, hey, nice boat ride."

"Ye look exhausted--beyond tha', actually." Moira paused and sighed. "I dinnae fully agree wit' th' way Nathan handled himself. But ye look like he used to when he would come staggerin' back ta Muir after pushin' himself ta hard, beyond his means."

Domino's expression trembled a little, and she hugged her knees harder. "I'm... fine, Moira, it's just been a little harder than I thought. All of this, I mean. I guess I am tired. But hey," she said, trying very hard to smile, "we got all the kids out. And they'll be okay, so that's good..."

"This haggard look isnae jus' from th' last couple o' day," Moira murmured gently. "Ye've th' look o' someone pushin' themselves ta collapse because o' somethin' else. God knows I had tha' look about me for many years."

There was another pause.

"Dom, wha's wrong?"

Domino bit her lip, hard, and laid her head on her knees, taking a shaky breath. "I can't," she said faintly. "The baby. Don't want to be upset around the baby."

Reaching out, Moira gently tapped both Charles and Nathan--neither of them were very far from her mind these days--mentally, asking quickly that they both shield the baby. After a brief query from her husband, to which she responded "I might be able to tell ye later", she nodded to herself.

With a heave, she managed to get herself actually up out of the chair and to the seat next to Domino. "Charles an' Nathan are now bot' shieldin' th' baby--I think Charles is hummin' at her as well--so wha's wron'?"

"Nothing's really wrong." Domino managed to keep her voice soft, but there was a wild edge to it, despite her best efforts. "I just am a screw-up, that's all, and I've been finding that out lately. Haroun's so right about me, you know. You should all listen to him."

"What?" Moira stared at her for a second, completely taken aback. She'd been prepared for a lot but the tone of self-loathing caught her completely off guard. "Where th' hell's this comin' from? And ye realize I dinnae listen ta half o' wha' tha' man says because it was physically possible, he'd have his head shoved up his ass."

"But he's right." Domino blinked rapidly. Not crying. She was not a weepy person. No. "I'm selfish and I've always been selfish, and I hurt people without thinking about what I'm doing... and even when I try to help people, I d-don't." She squeezed her eyes shut tightly. "And they die, and nothing ever happens to me, and something s-should..."

"Nay it shouldnae an' th' next time I hear ye say tha' I'm bloody well boxin' yer ears!" she snapped, the worry in the pit of her stomach getting worse. "Everyone's selfish, everyone's hurt someone--do ye realize how often Nathan an' I cut each other ta th' quick before because we were bot' bein' stupid an' selfish?" Reaching over, she put her hand on the younger woman's arm. "Where on eart' is this comin' from?"

Domino flinched at the touch. She rubbed rapidly at her eyes. Not crying, damn it! "Lots of places," she said hoarsely. "I tried... I tried to help..." Her throat all but closed, and she bit her lip hard. "I thought I knew what I was doing. With Pete. With these poor damned people in Darfur. But all I did was make it easier for Pete to..." She stopped, looking away and rubbing hard at her eyes again. "And even when I get people across the border, it's just going from one refugee camp to another. I can never do enough, I can never really help. That's not even counting the ones I got b-blown up in the desert." Her eyes were burning, tears spilling down her cheeks despite everything. "You know the planes dropped bombs right on top of us and I didn't get a scratch? But so many of them were just gone... it's not fair. They didn't do anything but get born in the wrong place, and me, who's been killing people since she was eight years old, doing it for money for years, hurting everyone I care about, I don't get a scratch?"

Despite the flinch, Moira kept her hand there. "Ye cannae help wha' yer powers are," she said softly, gently. "Ye cannae help how yer life started out. An' yer certainly cannae help wha' Wisdom--" Anger and regret and sadness tinged his name. "--is doin'. Ye are tryin' yer damnedest an' tha's a sight better than most o' th' people out there. An' dinnae try the 'but tis nay enough'. Yer nay allowed ta work yerself ta deat' because ye dinnae feel like yer makin' a difference."

Wisdom's name had been brought up more than once and Moira was betting anything that that was where the worst of the hurt lay.

"I don't know what to do." It was almost a sob. "It's like there's nowhere I fit anymore, and I'm trying to ch-change, but I can't make it work." Domino squeezed her eyes shut again, sniffling. The scratchiness of the grass bracelet on her wrist drew her out of her misery, though just a little. She blinked down at it, biting her lip again.

Shifting slightly, Moira made it physically clear that if Domino needed to lean it she was more than welcome to. "Stop pushin' yerself ta deat', love," she said sternly but kindly. "Yer nay use ta yerself if yer so tired ye cannae see straight. Start small. Ye've come a lon' way from th' brat tha' threw th' coffee pot at me head back in the day. An' it takes time for change ta happen. Yer doin' a damned good job right now."

Glancing down at her wrist she smiled. "Verra nice..."

Domino sniffled, then shifted a little closer to Moira. Not quite leaning. Just about, though. "I told myself when I went to Darfur that I was going to stop trying to define myself by the men in my life," she said, her voice wobbling just a little. "But I'm so lonely, Moira."

"Ach, Dom." The wobble completely broke her heart and she slipped her arm around Domino and pulled her the rest of the way in. "Ye dinnae have ta define yerself by th' men--or th' people--in yer life, but ye dinnae have ta leave them behind, either. Ye can find yerself jus' as easily amongst friends. I can understand 'bout bein' lonely, even when ye have people around. Ye jus' have ta let them in sometimes."

"Thought I had to prove myself," Domino whispered, laying her head very gingerly on Moira's shoulder. "Do it myself. So that they knew they didn't have to ride herd on me... guess I really should have thought that one through, huh?" Her throat felt tight again. "I've been in and out of warzones for years. Don't know why that one's bugging me so much."

"Ye dinnae have ta prove yerself, ye should know tha' by now. An' 'tis probably harder because emotionally, right now, ye've been bandied about like a soccer ball?" Moira hazarded a guess. She shifted slightly, getting the bulk of the baby out of the way so that it was a little more comfortable. Closing her eyes, she bite the bullet. "This entire thin' wit' Wisdom's hit ye harder than ye're lettin' on, isnae it?"

Domino shivered. "Can we... I can't, Moira," she said almost pleadingly. If she thought too hard about Pete, when her self-control was this ragged... She wiped at her eyes. "I don't want to think about him." If she sounded like an overtired five year-old, Moira would just have to forgive her. "Just one more person I couldn't be enough for."

Oh, she was going to hurt him. On top of everything else he had done, Moira was going to hurt him until he died from it. Nodding, she leaned her head against Dom's, remembering yet again just how young she really was. "Yer more than enough for anyone, dinna let anyone, even yerself, tell ye otherwise."

A laugh slipped out, a bit hysterical-sounding but with a touch of real humor in it. "More than enough... a lot of people would agree with you." Domino took a deep, shuddering breath, and reached out a hand tentatively, letting it hover over Moira's stomach. "Can I?" Moira nodded, and Domino smiled a little, shakily, as she felt the baby move. "Hey in there," she said. "I'm your Aunt Dom. And I'm a little dysfunctional at the moment, but I promise to have it more together by the time you and I get to meet properly."

"By then, ye have better have gotten quite a bit o' rest an' a lot more food. Lorna'll have someone else ta fuss about for feedin', then." If Moira looked entirely too smug at the idea, she didn't care. She blinked as Rachel kicked where Dom's hand rested. "I think she's sayin' hi."

"I'm not going to corrupt her or anything, you know." Domino swallowed past the lump in her throat. "I know it's kind of fun to make that joke, but I won't. She's too important."

Moira looked a bit startled at the declaration but nodded gently. "'Tis fun ta say, aye, but I appreciate ye think she's ta important for tha'."

"You should see all the baby gifts back in Tunis," Domino said, a tired little smile tugging at her lips. "The boys are the only ones who didn't get her anything yet, but they're swearing that they'll 'make the baby monitor better'."

Moira laughed at that and shook her head. "They'll spend days on it," she mused fondly. "I hope they come an' visit after she's born. Rachel needs ta meet her extended family."

"They're planning to come en masse, I think." Her eyes felt so heavy. "I'm going to fall asleep on your shoulder if I'm not careful here," she muttered. "I have like no energy..."

"Then sleep, I'm nay needed anywhere an' God knows ye need it."