xp_logs | Stalemate: Swept off the Board

Moira, Scott and his team finally arrive at the hospital where Nathan was taken, only to find out that Saul beat them there. There's a brief, but nasty confrontation between Saul and Moira before the doctor - fortunately an acquaintance of Moira's - arrives and pulls her away to explain the rather alarming results of Nathan's bloodwork. Nathan isn't in any condition to tell them what happened, but Moira gets the basics across the link.

This wasn't the first time Scott had deployed a team under the pretense that they were civilians, when what they were in fact doing was trying to quickly and discreetly secure a scene without tipping anyone off to the fact that the X-Men were there. Having Cain along rather spoiled the whole 'discretion' angle, but there hadn't been a chance in hell he'd been leaving the older man out of this. Not given what had happened, and what he'd read in the mission reports from Chad.

"They'll check the floor," Scott murmured to Moira after subvocalizing orders to that effect over his com. He held onto her arm as they rushed towards the ER desk. "I'll stay with you."

Moira nodded curtly at him, eyes straight ahead as they headed towards the nurses station. She'd been almost virtually silent since Scott had come to collect her in her labs with the news that Nathan had been very badly injured. Badly enough that he had been taken to a hospital before Scott's team could reach him. Lips thinned to almost nothing, she was keeping herself intact by running over the periodic table in her head. She was up to the twenty-fifth run of it.

The nurse at the station was visibly aggravated, snapping at someone on the phone as they approached. "... I cannot give you information I don't have. All I know is that Doctor Shepherd has some concerns about the patient's bloodwork..." She looked up at Moira and Scott as they approached, and gave them an apologetic grimace and an 'I'll be with you in a moment' gesture. "Yes. He'd like the results back as soon as possible."

The word bloodwork, though common in hospital settings, pinged against Moira's resolve to not barge up and demand what was going on out of the harried nurse. But still she swallowed her impatience and waited, leaning against the counter. Concerns about the patient's bloodwork...well, that would probably be HER husband the woman was referring to. "I'm here ta see me 'usband," she finally said, when the woman got off the phone. "Nathan Dayspring."

"Nathan Dayspring?" the nurse asked, looking confused. "We had a Nathan Morrow brought in about an hour ago..."

Morrow. Scott stiffened, instincts twinging, and looked back over his shoulder at the waiting room. No way, no damned way... He'd assumed a random 911 call had led to Nathan being picked up by EMTs and brought here, but he knew, he knew for a fact that Nathan hadn't been carrying ID under his real name.

The answer to that particular mystery was sitting in a corner quietly reading a magazine. Scott managed not to curse at the sight of Saul. Barely.

Moira, however, was not as collected. "Motherfucker," she snarled, startling Scott as she ripped her arm out of his grip. In a heartbeat, she had crossed the floor and was standing in front of a man she sorely wanted to punch. "Wha' are ye don' here?"

"Moira," Saul greeted her calmly, looking up from his magazine. "Do we really want to have this conversation here, under these circumstances?" His expression at first was not quite as calm as his voice; there was something in his eyes as he looked up at her that seemed oddly ambivalent. Just for a moment, though - then it was gone, the facade smoothing itself back out. "A better idea would be to focus on the situation at hand, I believe." Scott reached Moira's side, gazing down at Saul stonily. Saul barely acknowledged his presence.

"Hmm, I 'ave a few ideas. One o' them bein' that I kindly need ye ta leave an' fuck yerself on th' way out. Scott? Go get th' doctor an' dinnae let th' nurse tell ye 'e or she is busy. Because if there's nay an emergancy wit' my husband right now?" The look she shot her father-in-law could have at once frozen him in place and burned him alive. "There will be one in th' waitin' room."

Scott hesitated. On one hand, he really didn't think Moira was going to physically assault her father-in-law. Not here and now, under these circumstances. On the other... he wasn't actually sure. The language she was using alone was testament to just how angry she was. "I'll be right back," he temporized, giving Saul a quick warning look before he went to go find the doctor, murmuring to Cain over the coms to get back to the waiting room promptly.

Saul watched him go. "Interesting young man," he said quietly, and then looked back at Moira. "Moira..." He hesitated, that faint uncertainty back in his eyes for a moment. "I had nothing to do with this. And if you insist, I will leave. Once there's some word on his condition."

"Wha' makes ye think ye 'ave any right ta how he's doin'?" she responded, crossing her arms over her chest. "Ye lost tha' right as a parent years ago, Saul, dinnae try ta get it back now. Nay after wha' Nathan's learned 'bout th' kind o' filth ye've been involved in."

"Are you planning to have one of your... entourage kick me forcibly out of the hospital and cause a public scene?" Saul asked, almost testy-sounding for a moment. "I don't believe you'd go that far."

"... Doctor MacTaggart?" Scott was back, doctor in tow. The man was tall and graying, rather tired-looking and clearly startled as he looked down at Moira. "Good God, it is you. I don't suppose you'd remember me - I'm Julius Shepherd, we met at a conference in London a few years. I've been treating your husband."

Scott gave Saul a very wary look. Saul merely stared back at him.

Moira flashed Saul a very, very cold smile and turned back. "Ach, Dr. Shepherd, I do remember ye," she responded, reaching out to shake his hand warmly. "I 'ope yer doin' well...an' I told ye nay ta fret, tha' ye'd be verra good in yer business. Seein' where ye work, I can tell I was right." Stepping closer, she tilted her head slightly. "I'd say I'm doin' well but...now..." She took a deep breath. "But first, I need ye ta either take me in to speak privately or ask Mr. Morrow 'ere ta leave."

Behind her, she could hear Saul put down his magazine. "Nathan is estranged from 'is father an' if he knew he was 'ere, at all, it could cause severe complications. Ye...probably know tha' me husband is a mutant an' any agitation could be very dangerous." Her mouth tightened. "He would nay want Mr. Morrow anywhere near 'im or meself, especially now."

"We'd noticed that your husband was a mutant," Shepherd said with a certain weary amusement. "When the medical equipment started flying around the room it became somewhat obvious. That's when they called me in. But," he said more seriously, "I believe that taking this conversation private may indeed be the best course of action." He gave Saul a slightly confused look, then shook his head quizzically.

"I'll stay and make sure there's no problem," Scott said promptly. Cain was on his way back. There would be no problem. Saul would be leaving, one way or the other. He gave Moira a quick, reassuring smile. "I'll be here when you come back out," he said more quietly.

"Why don't we go see your husband, Doctor?" Shepherd asked, inclining his head towards one of the hallways. "There are a few things that need to be cleared up promptly, I think."

"Aye, I think I know exactly where yer goin' wit' tha'," she sighed. She had brought a thumb drive with just enough information about the virus so that the doctors could work with it but not enough for security to be breached. "I think I can answer yer questions once I've assured meself tha' Nathan's all...tha' he's all right." Moira was not going to let herself break down, not now and certainly not in front of Saul. As Shepherd indicated for her to follow him, she shot the man a look over her shoulder. One that clearly said that he should never, ever underestimate her.

"An' for th' record? His name is Dayspring."

"I'm not even going to ask," Shepherd said with a tired smile that didn't have much in the way of humor behind it. "Just down here, doctor..." As they left the waiting room, his expression grew more serious. "Your husband was brought in by an EMT crew about an hour ago. We've been working to stabilize him since then."

"I'm assumin' tha' since yer out 'ere, ye managed it?" Moira asked quietly, arms encircling her stomach as soon as they were out of view of that man. "How bad is he?"

"I've seen a lot of assault cases working in the ER here," Shepherd said gravely, "but I have no idea what the hell happened here. The pattern of the burns alone..."

"Burns?"

"Some are clearly localized, and very severe. I've never seen anything quite like them. The others... flash burns, almost. And he's got symptoms similar to smoke inhalation, as if he inhaled superheated air."

Moira stared at him as they walked. "Ye've got 'im bandaged up," she said and it wasn't a question. "Can I see th' pictures ye would 'ave taken before hand?" Assault cases, which this one would have to be, had pictures taken for evidence. On top of needing them for medical records.

"Of course." Shepherd paused in front of an exam room's door. "Broken bones and bruises on top of the burns," he said quietly. "The arm's not serious, but has he had previous rib injuries? Between that and the... other respiratory problems that I'm hoping you're going to explain, he's not breathing on his own."

She groaned. "I warned 'im nay ta break any more ribs," she said, voice wavering. Oh God, a ventilator then. "Can...can I see him now? Please?"

Shepherd nodded, and gestured for her to precede him through the door. Inside, a resident and two nurses were still working over Nathan, but backed off a little at the sight of Moira and a gesture from Shepherd. The weary-looking doctor laid a hand on her shoulder. "He is considerably more stable than he was when we brought him in," he told her reassuringly, the sound of the ventilator alarmingly loud in the quiet of the room.

A hand went up and pressed at her mouth at the sight of him. "Oh love..." He looked awful. If possible, this was one of the worst she had ever seen him and that included his days running with the Pack, when he had come 'home' bloodied and broken and snarling. Even his times in the MedLab, there'd been...something more than just him laying there as pale as the sheets. Taking a deep breath, she headed over and took his hand. "I'm 'ere, Nathan, I'm here."

Shepherd said something quiet to the nurses and the other doctor, who stepped outside. "About those other respiratory problems," he said quietly. "There was something very odd in his bloodwork. I sent it back to be retested - do I need to be waiting on the results, or can you tell me?"

Fishing in her pocket, Moira held out the thumb drive without even looking over at her shoulder. "'Tis a virus," she responded quietly, shaking her head at a distressed noise from Shepherd. "Nay, not contagious. I'll...I'll probably need ta get in touch wit' the disease organization here but ye dinnae 'ave ta worry 'bout it affectin' anyone else. He's lived wit' it for as long as I've known 'im."

"Doctor MacTaggart, if it was anyone but you telling me this, I'd be setting up quarantine measures right now..." Shepherd said with a sigh, turning the drive over in his hand. "But I'll get you those pictures," he said, "and take a look at this."

Nathan's hand tightened almost unnoticeably on Moira's, and a flood of confused images came up the link. Driving, a dark hallway. Pete's face lit by the light from a cigarette.

Barely holding back a gasp, Moira nodded, numb as she heard the door close. No, it couldn't...could it? Determined, but gentle, she reached down the link and chased after that image.

... whether the lives of those kids in those camps are worth doing something that yes, I am probably going to regret... The desk, shattering against the wall. Yes. They are. Anger, helpless betrayed anger, and the snuffing out of a lingering hope that Nathan had never once articulated, not even to her.

So much for old time's sake... gave you every chance to walk the fuck away... Pete's expression, cold and flat, and then a whine in the air and a tearing pain that came screaming up the link, even in memory. Flying furniture and shattering glass and Pete's face lit by some unfamiliar light. Then again, covered in blood - but just a flash. Then an unfamiliar ceiling. Then nothing.

"Oh my God. Oh Pete, ye bastard." Tilting her head back, the tears finally came as Moira clung to Nathan's hand. She was, without a doubt, going to kill him.

The door opened. It wasn't Shepherd or any of the ER staff, but Scott. "Saul's gone," he said quietly, shutting the door behind him. He knew he wasn't supposed to be back here, but he'd picked his moment and walked briskly to the door where he'd seen Moira and the doctor enter, as if he belonged here. He didn't much like the idea of leaving her alone with Gideon possibly lingering about. "Cain's escorting him out." Scott's jaw clenched as he got a good luck at Nathan. "Damn it. How's he doing?"

"He'll...he will pull through." While there were tears in her voice there was no doubt, no hesitation, that Nathan would wake up and heal. "Scott." Turning to look at him, she tried again. "Scott, Wisdom did this ta 'im."

Scott stared at her for a moment in incomprehension. She hadn't just said... no, she had. "Pete? But it was Gideon who made the phone call..." He trailed off, going pale. "Oh, fucking hell." He moved closer to the bed. "We knew Eris had ties to the Hellfire Club."

Nodding, she dropped more than anything into the chair next to the bed, still clutching tightly to Nathan's hand. "An' apparently he called in those bloody ties," she responded softly. "I dinnae get all o' it, jus' snippets 'ere an' there but it was Wisdom, it was 'bout th' camps in Africa an' Gideon was behind it. A setup, for Nathan or Wisdom, I cannae tell." There were burn marks on his arm, bandaged but she knew they were there. Lifting her free hand she hovered it above the wounds, throat tight. "Wisdom did this ta me 'usband."

Scott's jaw clenched and he moved to her side, laying a hand on her shoulder. "I'll have Cain stay here," he said, focusing hard on the practicalities so he didn't get lost in the implications. Time enough for those later. "There's no way we can move him back to the mansion, not when he's in this condition and the medlab's half-quarantined as it is..."

"I'm also goin' ta ask tha' security here be on alert as well," Moira responded, gathering herself back together as much as possible. "Futile, I know, but it'll make th' 'ospital feel better, tha's for sure."

They could come up with some story to justify that, Scott thought. Or have Charles make a couple of phone calls. Scott shook his head, though, unable to shake the impression that he should have stepped in, done something to prevent this. "Moira..." He swallowed. "I'm sorry. I should never have let him go out on his own. I didn't expect..." But Nathan had been so determined to get that intelligence, so driven...

"Scott. If I 'ear one word, one word, 'bout how this is in any way yer fault, I swear ta God, I will take out my frustration an' anger and break yer jaw."

Scott gave a slightly unsteady smile. "Hey... not that fond of the guilt." He took a deep breath. "Cain as a guard, definitely. And I need to get Charles to do it at a distance, or maybe get Betsy or Jean-" If he could tear her away from the medlab. "-in here to find out what happened. In case there's anything else we need to be expecting from Wisdom. If Gideon set up the pair of them..." His smile faded, turning humorless. "Well. Better to know."

"Good idea. Though I really dinnae think we'll see Wisdom back again, at least for this. He got wha' he wanted, in a way." Standing, she put Nathan's hand gently back down on the bed and kissed him on the cheek. "Be right back, love." Tilting her head, she headed out of the room with Scott behind her. "I need ta call someone ta watch Rachel, there's nay way I can brin' 'er 'ere. She'll pick up on wha's goin' on an' I dinnae want her doin' tha'."

The abrupt switch from 'shaken spouse' to 'grimly determined' was enough to make his head spin. It was like she was projecting this... aura, suddenly. Scott trailed after her, feeling briefly like he was seventeen again. "I suspect you'll have all kinds of volunteers for that," he ventured. Tentatively.

"Probably. Alison's out, she'd scream an' run in th' other direction, even if she wasnae wit' Haroun. Amanda's out currently...Angelo or Rahne would work well." Stopping, Moira suddenly turned to face Scott, face grim. "We're nay tellin' them tha' it was Wisdom. Especially Amanda or Dom. It'll...it'll break their 'earts an' I willnae be th' one ta do tha'. Tell the school he 'ad an accident in th' city or somethin' but nay this."

Scott nodded immediately. "I want to tell the team and Remy," he said softly, "but yeah. The accident story is just fine with me. I'll talk to Rahne about Rachel?"

"Works just fine, I trust her wit' Rachel an' they like each other. I'll need overnight stuff an' some thin's ta work on." She caught the look on his face and frowned at him. "I'm nay leavin', Scott. I'll work on wha' I was doin' for Haroun 'ere but I will nay leave."

Her husband was on a ventilator down the hall, Scott reminded himself grimly. "All right. Cain will stay here, and I can't imagine Charles won't keep a mental eye on the hospital. If you need us I can have a team here in half an hour."

"Right now? I wouldnae mind a go at Saul myself." There was a growling quality to her voice that hadn't been there in a long time, not since she'd locked herself in her Ivory Tower. That part of her still existed and it had its uses.

Scott was suddenly very glad Cain had safely escorted the man out of the hospital. More of a public scene they definitely did not need. "Make a list of what you need from the mansion," he said, taking her arm and drawing her back towards the waiting room. "I'll send one of the others back. I'll head back once we're sure there aren't going to be any awkward questions from the police."

"I'd send Remy over ta investigate," Moira suggested, letting herself be led but only barely, the tension vibrating through her entire being. "Maybe somethin's left...I dinnae know. Graspin' at straws but 'tis better than nothin', I suppose. Also, I'm pullin' some strings an' gettin' th' records o' when Saul signed Nathan in." Her eyes gleamed slightly. "More clues because this..." With a sharp wave towards her husband, she gritted her teeth. "Is unforgivable."