xp_logs | Nathan and Madelyn and machines that go ping, Saturday morning

Nathan reports as ordered to make sure that catching the plane did not in fact sprain his brain. He and Maddie talk a bit about yesterday's mission, then banter, and she subjects him to not just the EEG but the MRI as well. Red-headed doctors and their thoroughness...

Grumbling, Nathan walked through the medlab doors, trying to tell himself that Moira (and Hank, the big blue rat) were right, and giving his head a thorough checkout was probably a good idea. He remembered last August and the headaches and nosebleeds after the incident with Shiro all too well. Still, didn't mean he wasn't going to sulk about it, just a little. He felt fine, damn it.

"And good morning to you, Mr Sunshine," Madelyn practically chirped, seeing the scowl on Nathan's face as she looked up from prepping the EEG machine. "Thanks for coming down - this won't take too long."

"Nags, the lot of you," Nathan grumbled, coming over. At least it was the EEG and not the MRI. Although maybe she had the MRI planned for later. He wouldn't put it past her. "I didn't even have a headache. Much of a headache. I get more of a headache reading the journals."

"Consider it a precaution. Like when you double check equipment that's been damaged and repaired," Madelyn said, cheerfully ignoring the grumbling. "And at least it's me and not Hank, or you might have found yourself being de-pantsed the minute you walked in. Billy kept him awake a bit last night, so I said I'd take his appointments." As she spoke, she was shooing Nathan over to the table. "Any other symptoms, apart from the slight headache? No lights in your vision or difficulties concentrating?" Then she remembered who she was talking to, and amended. "More than usual, that is."

Despite himself, Nathan shot her an amused look at that. "No more than usual, no. Had a precognitive flicker that had me staggering around for a bit this morning, but the side effects faded quickly." He assumed the position, unable to help a sigh. "I am tired," he muttered, "but that's probably due to all the stress yesterday following by helping strip the Blackbird's wing all night."

Madelyn made a slightly disapproving noise at that. "If the 'Bird wasn't such a critical piece of equipment, I'd thwap Scott for having you do that. Especially before these tests - you've hit your head far too often in the last year for my comfort."

He smiled up at her a bit wryly as she set up the EEG machine. "Yes, yes, we all know I'm potentially the poster boy for second concussion syndrome," he said, more lightly than he really felt. It was a concern, especially given that his powers tended to complicate things to no end. "I did take a break, just to reassure you. That was more about needing to center myself again after how wrong things went yesterday than out of concern for my health, though, I have to admit." He was quiet for a moment as she attached electrodes. "Hank doing all right? He was upset."

"Well, you're almost beyond secondary and into tertiary concussion syndrome, but I won't flog the expired equine." Hank's speech patterns were definitely starting to rub off on her. Attaching the electrodes to his temples, she sighed a little. "He's taking it hard. It's difficult enough not being able to help someone, but when that someone's just a kid... And Hank wants to help everyone - it's hard for him to accept his limits." A briefly wry grin crossed her face. "And I know, this is Doctor Pot paging Doctor Kettle. I'd like to think I learned my leasson last November."

"It all just happened too fast," Nathan murmured. He'd dream about the girl for a while, he suspected. "It's hard for any of us to accept our limits when it comes to situations like this, I think. Admitting that failure is going to happen from time to time whether we like it or not is kind of the antithesis to everything we're supposed to be stand for, right? Yet if we don't recognize our limits we run into the wall." He snorted softly, careful not to move his head. "Kind of a no-win situation."

"The worst kind," Madelyn agreed. "And in the meantime, we do what we can. It's all we can do." She rested her hand briefly on Nathan's shoulder, before turning back to the machine. "Okay, all set here. Usual drill - you can talk and move your head a little, but don't get too excited, okay? I'm quite fond of my little machine that goes ping here."

"I could take these tests in my sleep at this point. I mean that quite literally. Can I take this test in my sleep?" Nathan joked, then smiled at the look he got. "That's not a commentary on your company, Maddie. Really."

"I'm going to develop a complex - all the men in my life keep falling unconscious whenever I'm around," she replied, teasingly. "Then again, one of them's only a few months old, and the other is still waking up for four-hourly feeds, so I can't really blame either of them." She turned the EEG machine on, the printed out version of his brain waves beginning to spool out merrily. "But you do look exhausted, and given your own four-hourly alarm, I wouldn't hold it against you if you napped. Sleep, hon, if you need to."

"I think I'm okay," Nathan said lightly, "although I might skip the pool party in favor of another nap. Wouldn't kill me." He couldn't help a smile. "Speaking of my four-hourly alarm, she and her mother were absolutely adorable last night... this morning, whenever that was."

"I so wanted a picture of that," Madelyn said, with feeling. "But I didn't want to startle Rachel with camera flashes. And the party will probably be a bit much - that many hormonal teenagers in skimpy swimsuits? Plus the staff? Probably not the most soothing environment for a telepath." A wicked grin crossed her face. "Even if you're going to miss the boys' reactions to Jean's new suit."

"I imagine we'll make a token appearance and then retire to the air-conditioning," Nathan said with a chuckle. "I'm still minus some sleep from the mad studying marathon, never mind the mission and the broken plane..."

"Any word on the results yet... not, that'd be too soon. That was only yesterday, wasn't it?" Madelyn rolled her eyes a little. "This place is the land that time forgets, sometimes. It's hard to remember what day of the week it is, let alone everything else." She was studying the EEG tape as she spoke, mentally making adjustments for Nathan's more unusual brain activity. Something caught her eye, a mere flicker of the needle. "Hmm. Looks all clear so far, but do you mind giving me another ten minutes? And the MRI? You can sleep through that one, if you like."

"Day before yesterday, Madelyn," Nathan said with a chuckle. "But don't feel bad. Most of the last week is a blur for me." Then the comment about ten minutes sank in, not to mention the dreaded M-word, and he made a face at her. "I just knew it," he said balefully. "You and that damned MRI machine..."

Madelyn grinned at him, completely unrepentant. "Our love is so medically technical," she deadpanned.