xp_logs | Nathan, Friday night

Left with some quiet time to himself while Moira's busy with her patient, Nathan is sitting out enjoying the view when his precognition decides to give him a good kick in the head. There are a couple of recurring themes, and one very nasty surprise.

It really was kind of nice to be back on Muir, Nathan thought, sipping at his coffee as he slouched in the chair, staring out at the sun setting over the water. He smiled a little, remembering the conversation he'd had with Cain the morning of the wedding on this very balcony. Much pleasanter memory than the one he'd had with Haroun months before, at New Year's...

Strange, how the island could still seem so much like home, even after so much had happened here over the last year and a half. Moira had been radiating a sort of unconscious serenity ever since they'd stepped off the boat, and Nathan had been both intrigued and tickled to sense Rachel echoing the calm, contented patterns of her mother's thoughts.

Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing after all if Moira happened to go into labor while they were here, Nathan pondered. Except that Charles and all the specialized equipment that had been prepared for the birth was in Westchester. Drat.

Still. They would have to make sure they brought Rachel back here as soon as flying was feasible. Westchester would be home, possibly for many years to come, but Muir was Muir, and the newest Lady Kinross needed to be introduced early to the place that was hers.

Maybe I don't have to wait, Nathan thought suddenly, thinking again of how Rachel had responded to the change in Moira's mood upon arrival. That was definitely a direct reaction. He should watch more carefully over the weekend, see if it continued. Maybe encourage it, if it did...

Smiling, Nathan sipped at his coffee again. A plan, a definite plan. He relaxed in his chair and let his mind wander, wondering what Domino was up to this weekend. She'd headed into New York again, muttering something about 'sightseeing of the innocuous type, thank you very much, old man'. Which he'd verified by a very quick scan, he was ashamed to admit, but he had wanted to make sure that his instincts weren't leading him astray and Dom really was just out to relax and enjoy herself.

He really ought to have finished those last stencils on the nursery walls before leaving, Nathan mused next. Nothing like leaving the little fiddly touches to the last minute. Of course, it was also possible that he was going overboard with the stencils, but visual stimulation would be a good thing. Moira and Charles and Jean had all weighed in on that, and...

Lights flickered in his peripheral vision, and Nathan froze. Crap. His first reaction was to check and then reinforce the shield on his link with Moira. His second was to set his coffee cup down beside the chair. Out of the way. The lights grew more intense, and Nathan caught his breath, his hands clenching around the arms of his chair.

The patterns were spinning in his head again. If anyone had been on the balcony with him, they would have seen spiraling streams of blue and gold light flicker into existence around his head, radiating off into oblivion.

Nathan didn't see the lights. He was, in fact, not seeing anything of his surroundings at the moment. No balcony, no island, no North Sea...

... desert. The Sahara, not his desert. Not New Mexico. Towering dunes and a harsh blue cloudless sky, and a wind out of nowhere, driving at the side of the dune directly in front of him. Blasting the sand away from something half-buried...

A body. Nathan recoiled instinctively, but then forced himself to stop, take a closer look at the corpse. It had been here for a while, long enough for the desert to do sufficient damage to scour flesh away, destroy the face.

Who are you?

"You found him, I see," came a casual voice from somewhere behind him.

Nathan, or the Nathan who was experiencing this moment, didn't turn. "You shouldn't have left him in the desert," he heard his own voice say stiffly. Almost numbly.

"I thought there was a certain symmetry to it."

There was a faint glimmer of gold at the corpse's neck. Nathan reached out and tugged the chain free. "Do you want it?" he asked, looking down at the tiny golden key.

"I'm not sentimental, Nathan. Come along."

He wanted it. Nathan swallowed and gave the chain a yank. "Goodbye, Saul," he muttered...

... and was out of his chair and all but over the railing of the balcony in his sudden, panicked rejection of the vision. What the fuck? Nathan thought wildly, gripping at the railing and trying to slow his breathing down. The lights in his peripheral vision sparkled and faded, but the adrenalin didn't quite release its grip.

"What," Nathan muttered aloud, shakily, "the fuck?" It was the only coherent reaction he could muster.