Log [Alison, Nathan] High up in the sky...

[x-dazzler.livejournal.com]

Near sunset. Nathan heads off for the flyer's platform to seek a moment of solitude, only to discover that it is already occupied by Alison, who is working hard on her meditation these days. An attempt at scurrying off is countered by the proper application of a running shoe.

The wind was high, Alison had noticed as she'd settled on the platform earlier, a continuous motion to keep her company as she settled down to meditate. It reminded her of Haroun, for some reason - and brought a greater focus to her thoughts. Meditation wasn't exactly something that came to her easily since Ryker's island, the struggle to still her thoughts as hard as it had ever been when she'd started the exercises Scott had suggested she do every single day. Opening her eyes briefly revealed it was sunset - time had passed faster than she'd thought, so maybe she was having some sort of success at this, today.

But it was getting easier again. Step by step, she reminded herself, and tried to still her thoughts once more, the wind a focus of sound for her to concentrate upon while attempting to exclude all else.

The door opened, breaking her focus. "Uh. Sorry," was the muttered apology, and Nathan flushed at the sight of Alison sitting there obviously meditating. Nothing like interfering with other people's settling-down time while trying to find some of your own... "I'll go," he said miserably, starting to move back through the door.

A running shoe smacking against the wall right next to his head got his attention. It wasn't exactly what she'd been planning to do, but she supposed that it was as good as any a way to make a point. "Quit that." A flash of irritation was quickly subsumed at his expression though, and sighing a bit, Alison patted the place next to herself, her other running shoe not far off from where she'd left it. "S'okay. I'm getting better enough at it that I don't feel like I should brain myself for not being able to meditate longer than Jubilee used to when I started her on that now... I can use a break."

Nathan stared at her for a moment. "You threw a shoe at me." She didn't seem inclined to dispute it. After a moment, he shook himself and came over, sitting down beside her. "Windy out here," he said very softly. The ruddy light of the sunset was uncharitable, making the signs of sleeplessness - the dark circles under his eyes and general pallor - all too obvious. The haunted look in his eyes was hard to miss, too.

"Yeah. Turns out I meditate better when it's windy now. Helps me focus and block out the bad stuff." She straightened her spine a bit, pulling herself out of the slouch she'd slipped into, realizing belatedly that the scars hadn't tugged at all over the motion. Huh. She gave Nathan a sidelong look, noting the obvious signs of severe stress and general unhappiness. "I read your posts. And your email."

Nathan made a monosyllabic noise. "Did you talk to Haroun since this afternoon?" he asked, his voice still barely audible. "About... any of this, I mean. Not in general."

"Yes." There wasn't much more to be said than that, really. Instead, Alison placed one hand firmly on the platform and shifted around a bit, so that she was sitting a bit closer, then threaded an arm through his, leaning against him lightly. "I'm sorry. I wish it had been otherwise."

Nathan swallowed, his eyes stinging. Just the wind, he told himself. "I don't know what to do," he murmured a bit brokenly, wondering just how many times those words had passed his lips over the last twenty-four hours or so. A few, certainly. "I can't feel this. I'd start screaming and never stop," he said only semi-facetiously. The note hadn't helped. In fact, the note had made things worse, added panic to the anger. He's not going to leave it. And who the hell knew what Gideon was planning, even if he'd been truthful about not coming after the school...

"Course you will. Nose clogging up means you have to stop to breathe and crying until you choke kinda spoils screaming." The reply wasn't unkind - merely a statement of fact. A well known fact, at that. Poking him in the side lightly, Alison sighed, then gave him a small, sad smile. "Cry." And then, after a small pause. "I promise to bean you on the head with my other shoe if you start screaming isntead of crying?"

"I can't. Baby." But he knew damned well that as good a reason Rachel was to keep it together, she could also be an excuse for repressing things. Which would just come out in all kinds of nasty ways later, like it usually did. "Not the right time," he whispered, echoing Saul's words.

Reaching into her pocket, Alison tapped the comm twice, a setting which had been set for only two weeks now. "Charles," was all she said softly, setting the comm back down between them on the platform. The comm line was open, and that was all she had to offer. That and simply leaning just a touch, once more, staring out over the platform as the wind whirled about them gently.

"I can't." Nathan stared blindly out at the grounds, which blurred and shimmered in his sight. "I can't, Alison..." It was almost a plea, but not directed at her. Or at Charles' calm, patient presence, shielding him. "Is that just me being st-stubborn?" The waver in his voice made him flinch. "I don't know anything anymore. How can I be p-proud of anything I've accomplished, when it's all been what they wanted? I feel like I've been pushed into this m-mold, and I didn't even know it..." That note. That damned note. Like rubbing it in.

"It's our choices that make us who we are." Taking a deep breath, Alison let it out slowly, letting the wind soothe her - remind her that she was safe. And hoped the feeling might be enough to break through to Nathan, as well. "For all that they manipulated events outside of you - they never made any choices for you, Nathan. Those are all your responsibility. You own yourself." After a short moment, she continued. "If you didn't? You wouldn't be here, now. You'd be with them, espousing their ideals and their beliefs. And I don't think you do... not one bit."

"Proud of me." The words came out brokenly. "They seem to think I do. That I'm everything they wanted me to be..." Like chains he could never shake, because the only way to do it was to be less than he was, and he couldn't backslide. Wouldn't backslide. The memory of what he'd said to Jean came back, and he rested his head in his free hand for a moment, struggling to keep his breathing level. "Why?" His voice cracked, anguish and anger warring beneath his words. "Why me, why now... I was so h-happy. I could look at Rachel and feel f-free..." It didn't make any sense, but it did, and he hated them for that, suddenly, almost as much as what they'd done.

Breath light and shallow, Alison just slid her hand to his own, holding it in a light grasp. It wasn't much, yet it was't negligible either, she supposed. It was something she could do, and it would - for now - have to do she supposed. Reaching out she rested her other hand on top and sighed, just a bit, looking ahead still.

"I told Haroun we weren't killing them." A broken laugh slipped out before he could stop it. "That I wasn't doing it, and that I wasn't letting anyone else go after them, not unless they came after the school. But part of me wants to, Alison. I think about walking into that h-hotel room, knowing what had happened, but still thinking Tyler was j-just asleep right until the moment I touched him..." He closed his eyes, ignoring the tears trickling down his cheeks. "I don't understand enough," he whispered. "Don't understand how they could do all this, and yet Saul can look me in the eyes and tell me he loves me... and not be lying."

"That's what makes you not like him," Alison said softly, turning her head to look at him. "The whole not understanding bit."

He tried to answer her, but what came out was a strangled noise, half-sob, half-moan. The pain and confusion he'd been fighting to lock away ever since GW had brought him back to the mansion all came flooding to the surface, blasting away his feeble attempts at intellectualizing it all away. #I can't be,# he projected wildly, unable to get the words out through the tightness in his throat. #I can't be like him, I can't... but I don't know what's real, I don't know what I remember, what if I react like him...#

Shifting at that, Alison untangled one arm to wrap it around him, the whirling pain and anguish echoing through her mind disturbingly familiar, for all that the causes were entirely different. "And this is what also makes you not like him, Nathan. The fear that you might be. Here and now, you've never been more yourself..."

#Never,# he thought disjointedly, Rachel's tiny, perfect face floating in his mind's eye for a moment. #I could never. Never...# And his ability to form a coherent telepathic projection went the way of forming complete sentences aloud. He leaned against Alison with a shuddering sigh, the tears still flowing freely.

With a sigh that was mingled sadness and relief, Alison simple leaned back, one arm still wrapped around him, just a touch awkwardly so. But the wind was high and if her sleeve was pulled up to show the edge of the scars, black and standing out starkly against her skin, it really didn't matter just then.

Nathan was crying. And that was enough.