Nathan and Moira, late Monday night

[x-cable.livejournal.com]

Nearly thirty hours after the fight with Pete, Nathan finally wakes up. A couple of hours after that, he's surprisingly coherent, if confused, and already delivering the due self-flagellation for being so stupid.


The faint buzzing in the air was entirely his imagination, Nathan thought hazily, focusing on breathing steadily, if shallowly. Between the state of his ribs and the state of his lungs, deep breaths were bad. Very bad. He could just avoid those completely.

He heard the door open and didn't look in that direction. Didn't need to, really; he knew it was Moira. Her presence was like everything else, overly bright and sharp thanks to the fact that his temperature was also not good. It would be really nice if someone just went along and sandpapered all the edges off the world. He'd appreciate that.

"Yer supposed ta be sleepin'," Moira chided softly, dropping into the chair next to the bed with none of her usual grace. She was too tired and worn out be anything more than simply there. He'd finally regained consciousness a couple of hours ago, fighting the ventilator almost immediately, and she had cried, but not until she'd left the room while the doctors and nurses were checking him over again. And she'd been there ever since she'd gotten to the hospital, except for once when she went home for some clothes and to cling tightly to their daughter.

"Can't. Hurts," he croaked. No tube down his throat anymore, but he could definitely feel that it had been there. Everything hurt, and he was so cold... the fever, he knew. He was concentrating very hard on not coughing, having made the mistake of doing that earlier. "Fucked up," he whispered raggedly, after a moment. Remembering that he had been meaning to tell her that, the last couple of times she'd been in the room. Only time was slipping away in odd fits and starts and he kept forgetting. "Sorry..."

Leaning forward, she took his hand firmly in hers and laid one hell of a glare on him. Even if the eyes it came from were bloodshot and sported bags that spoke of long nights and waiting. "Don't. Please. Between ye an' Scott, I swear..."

"Should've walked away..." As soon as he'd seen it was Pete. But those camps. Those kids... Nathan closed his eyes for a moment, not sure what was trying to stir beneath the feverish haze but trying to hold it back, whatever it was. "Dumb. Really dumb..."

"I might give ye tha'," came the gruff reply. "But ye couldnae 'ave known, Nathan. Nay anyone could 'ave."

"So angry at him." His hand tightened on hers. "Kids." And yet there was a strange, bewildered sadness there, too. If Pete could really do this, knowingly, willingly, in the name of fucking business...

She could feel it in the back of her mind where she sometimes imagined the root of the link lay. This surge of anger and hurt and confusion. Reaching out for it, it felt hot and slick in her mind like it always did when either of them was just feeling too much and the spillover was too intense. Sending soothing thoughts was all she could do.

#Naive... stupidly naive.# He couldn't project, but he could let the words sit there, let her pick them up on the link. Even forming the thoughts made his head pound and spin. #Lucky he didn't kill me.#

#Nathan, ye need ta stop dwellin'. At least for now. Ye need ta rest. Or at least calm down, please?#

"What... do the others know?" Nathan muttered weakly, trying to do as he was told. Trying to think, at least, rather than just react. "The kids..."

"Tha' ye were in an accident," was the immediate response. "Tha' somethin' 'appened in th' city but we're nay tellin' them. Especially Amanda. And Domino as well. It'd break their 'earts." It broke hers but she didn't voice it, he already knew.

"Good..." He blinked up at her, trying to focus. Her face kept blurring in and out. "GW... if he tries to get in contact, he can know. He won't tell her, or any of the others..." His jaw clenched suddenly. "How's Ray?" he asked, his voice a bare whisper, almost fragile-sounding.

"I'll tell 'im, I promise." Hell, she might call him just to keep her sanity intact. A smile sneaked out at the mention of their daughter. "Pissy when I left 'er again but she's wit' Rahne an' she get alon' jus' dandy. Must be all th' red 'air."

"Redhead bonding. Told you that..." It crossed his mind to ask about Haroun, but her mind was open, and he could see the answer without too much difficulty. "When... do you think they'll let me out of here?" he asked weakly. He needed to be back home. With Moira and Rachel. Helping. He wasn't any good to anyone in a hospital bed. He took a shaky, indrawn breath at the sudden surge of fear and frustration and anger, and it turned into a coughing spasm, his vision going white with pain.

"I'm nay sure yet, they want ta run a few more tests. An' I need to answer a few more questions about th' virus." She hesitated, stroking his hair until the coughing spasm passed. "Reason ye were out like ye were was tha' it flared up, love, but I was able ta get yer favorite cocktail inta ye before it could worse so ye could get it back under control."

"EM... had the office rigged with EM," he wheezed, once he could breathe again. "Told me I should have known..." Which meant what, that Pete had expected him at some point? Given what he seemed to have involved himself in, maybe that was inevitable.

Moira caught that as it leaked over and frowned. "Or maybe 'e's jus' a paranoid bastard an' thinks ye should be as well?" Probably not.

Nathan took another judicious breath, willing the stars to disappear from his vision. Oxygen was good. His lungs would work, he just needed to be patient with them. "Can't... figure it out," he managed. "Pete. Gideon. Who was... playing who... why."

Standing up, leaning over the bed until her face was directly hovering where Nathan could see it, so he could pull her into focus if he was having trouble. "Nay now, an' tha's as a doctor an' as yer wife," Moira said, voice strained. "Ye need ta rest an' racking yer brain over wha' went wron' an' wha' could 'ave 'appened will only make thin's worse."

"I just..." He let it go, helpless. Helpless again, although at least he could move this time. The icy terror he'd felt upon first waking up, thinking he was back in the medlab in that damned traction rig, had faded quickly enough but that hadn't lessened its impact.

"Oh sweetheart." The tears pricked her eyes and there was little she could do about it. "I am so sorry. I jus'...I dinnae know wha' ta do or tell ye this time. But I'm 'ere for ye, ye know tha', aye?"

"Suppose I thought..." Naive, stupid things. So much for trusting his feelings. Nathan closed his eyes, trying to ignore the way they were burning. "Doesn't... matter. Know now. Won't make the mistake again..."

Touching her cheek to his didn't take much movement at all, just a slight rocking on her toes. With his injuries, there was no way she'd be able to slide into bed with him, as much as she wanted to, so this would have to do. "It'll be okay."

"Oh... I know." There was a strange, wild sort of humor in his weary mental voice. If this was what Pete wanted, he had made one hell of a mistake, showing his cards this early. Letting me know what to expect. Bad call, Pete. There wouldn't always be offices rigged with EM generators.

She chuckled softly, tiredly. "...I really need ta take up target practice again..."

Nathan opened his eyes again, gazing up at her. "Won't go looking," he said hoarsely, knowing she'd know it for the promise it was. "Not even... with what he knows, about those camps."

"Pass on th' info?" It was like they had had an argument without the argument. They knew what the other wanted and they were each giving just enough. Apparently once you were old and tired enough, arguments either lasted days or went without saying. "Ta GW?"

"Can't," Nathan said tiredly. "They'd try... maybe not the Pack, but Ani and Ian, and the others. It'd push their buttons just like it did mine."

"Okay," she murmured, knowing what it cost him to just sit on that information. Tracing his jaw line, she smiled. "I love ye so verra much."

"Love you too," he whispered more faintly. "And I'll be back home with you and Ray soon..." One more close call. A whole lot less funny than the coatrack, really, all things considered.

"Ye better be," Moira warned before slipping back into the chair again, hand still holding onto his tightly.

Comments

[x-kitten.livejournal.com]

Woah. Amazing log guys. -cuddles the both of you-