xp_logs | Nathan and Manuel, Friday evening

Sometime after returning with Alison to the mansion, a very sore and tired Nathan heads down to his office to get a book he needs for next week's classes. Manuel finds him there and challenges him on the car accident cover story. The conversation ends rather surprisingly, as Manuel both accepts that whatever really happened isn't his business, and does his best to try and help Nathan.

He had risked making the slow and painful progress down to his office, despite how truly crappy he had been feeling ever since returning to the mansion with Alison, specifically because there were books there he needed for classes, and he had some catching up to do, obviously. Wincing and shifting his arm in the sling, Nathan tried to straighten up as he regarded the bookshelves. The textbook was not being immediately obvious. Damn it... How was he supposed to teach a senior law course if he mislaid the textbook? Go and steal one from his students?

Manuel had deliberately put himself in a place to get a good Look at Nathan. "You are, you know, a terrible liar." he said conversationally as he turned the corner to face Nathan directly. "I don't buy the car-accident story for a second. Neither will anyone else with half a brain. So what was it this time, hmm?" he asked, crossing his arms.

Nathan looked at Manuel for a long moment. "I have," he said with as much dignity as his beat-to-shit self could muster, "absolutely no idea what you're talking about, Manuel. What would you like?" He reached up with his good arm - or his less-bad arm, really, given how the burns, however safely concealed beneath a long-sleeved shirt protested the movement, and pulled down one slender volume. No, not it. "Saw you on the list for the law class, didn't I?"

"And now you're lying to me again." he said, still keeping his arms crossed and leaning against the wall casually. "And you did. While I know the course will not be specifically business law, getting a grounding in the inner workings of the American legal system is, from my point of view, an absolute necessity. You have to know what the rules are, of course, before you can successfully play the game."

"Well, time to see if we can get through another semester without killing each other, huh?" Nathan asked tiredly, sliding the book back into place and leaning for a moment against the shelves. Damn it. Of all the people... "It was a very fast truck."

Manuel shook his head and grinned. "You'll get no arguments or disruptions from me. So long as you do not provoke unduly, I will not attack." he said reasonably. He moved a step or two closer and really concentrated on scanning Nathan. "Hot." he said distractedly. "Were you burned? An odd injury for a truck accident."

Nathan raised an eyebrow. "There you go with the not-really-empathy again," he said after a moment. Avoiding the question, but hey.

"You didn't answer the question." he said, not letting Nathan get away with his avoidance tricks. "And is there any chance we'll get a smattering of business law in this course?"

"A whole unit on it, actually," Nathan said, his mind reviewing the syllabus. "Two weeks. More if I do a second half to the course in the spring, but we'll have to see how this one goes." Ah-hah! There was the damned book. Nathan pulled it out and went over to his desk, slumping slowly into the chair. He was wheezing again, he realized. Ah, lungs, how I love you...

"Between you and Amanda I am rapidly losing my taste for evasion and nonacknowledgement of what I say. If I wanted to not be acknowledged for saying something, I'd post about how I see the world and let everyone misinterpret it again. You're moving stiffly. Your breathing is labored and rough. You feel hot, like you were burned at some point. Do not insult my intelligence again." he said.

Nathan looked up at him, and weariness and pain or not, the look in his gray eyes was cool and assessing. "My virus flared up," he said. Maybe he'd be satisfied with a little of the truth. "I spent most of Sunday and Monday on a ventilator. And I was burned, yes. Fairly extensively."

"Your virus only flares up when there is a disruption to your telekinesis. Very interesting." he noted clinically. "I scanned the news reports. No accident was reported - certainly not one of enough magnitude to cause the sort of damage you suffered."

Nathan didn't break eye contact. "Why are you so interested in knowing the details of my accident?" he asked. Sitting down, he was realizing just how much the walk, even if it had just been to and from the damned elevator, had taken out of him. Burns and broken bones were different kinds of pain, and right now they seemed to be fighting to see who got to be more noticeably.

"Knowledge is power, as you and others have said time and time again. I dislike being lied to." he said blandly. "More importantly, why are you trying to cover it all up? What are you hiding?"

I got the shit beaten out of me by the man who killed your father, Nathan thought, and wondered, just for an instant, what Manuel's reaction to those words would be.

If it hadn't been for Amanda, maybe he even would have told him.

"All this time," he said instead, his voice low and gravelly, "despite everything that's gone on between us, I've never lied to you. Not out of any particular virtue on my part. The simple fact is, I know I can't lie to you. Not unless I've got my emotions zipped up tight, and at the moment, that's beyond me." He leaned back in his chair, breathing heavily. "So," he went on, "you know I'm lying. But that doesn't entitle you to the truth. It's... business, Manuel, and not yours."

Manuel nodded in recognition of the point. "Fair enough. But if I saw through your fig-leaf, others can as well. Others who you will have a much harder time brushing off than you do me." he said with a small smile of acknowledgement.

"I used to lie like a champion, Manuel. Necessary survival skill," Nathan said, his voice worn but edged with something that he himself couldn't have defined. "Just because I got here and had all of those defenses stripped away one by one doesn't mean that I'm not capable of remembering the skill if the situation calls for it." He shifted his arm in his sling again, wincing exhaustedly. "Most of the kids in this school only like to think they're psis."

Manuel quirked an eyebrow at that, tracking the jumps and changes in Nathan's emotional makeup. "If you're not too wounded, I would like to see my favorite Askani tonight. I find myself desiring her insights."

Something close to a tremor crossed Nathan's face. "I can't," he said, and hoped Manuel would sense that he really wanted to be able to let Lusanya go visiting. Fading or not, she still had Manuel's trust and respect, and Nathan was increasingly, despairingly aware that she might indeed be the only one who could convince him that he wanted to make the effort to be the kind of empath she had been. "I can hardly use my powers. A few more days before the effects fade-" He cut himself off sharply, looking away.

Manuel noted the slip, but said nothing. "Then when you are better, perhaps? The matter will keep for a few days." Although it might not, the way things were going. Manuel needed to talk to Lusanya, and needed to talk to her badly. "You really must take better care of yourself."

"Soon as I can, Manuel. I promise." Nathan rested his head in his good hand for a moment, realizing he was shaking a little. Tired, he was just tired. "And I'm working on that. The other part. Did you have any other questions about the class?" he asked as he looked up, his mind switching gears erratically, almost desperately. "I can... I had the list of readings here. Somewhere."

"Send it to me when you're a little more coherent." he said, not-unkindly. "And although I am fairly sure that this will do you no kindnesses, I am looking forward to this class of yours."

"Rather looking forward to teaching it. Even if we're getting a late start." His breath was rasping in his chest again, and Nathan told himself that enough was enough. He needed to get back upstairs and rest before Moira kicked his ass. Hauling himself wearily up out of the chair, he picked up the textbook and started around the desk - only to stop, grasping desperately at the edge of the desk as his leg, the one that had been clipped by the hotknife, tried to buckle.

And Manuel was still standing there watching him. A wave of anger and frustration and the sadness that just wouldn't leave him the fuck alone washed over him and he struggled for a moment with his composure, meeting Manuel's eyes as if daring him to say something.

Manuel didn't move to aid, but at the same time he held his tongue. Pride was a touchy thing, and Nathan's doubly-so. He was certain, however, that Nathan was lying through his teeth when it came to his little accident. Manuel's own leg hurt sympathetically for a moment, a flash of what felt like a deep hot burn spreading across his leg before fading.

"I'll send you those readings," Nathan said after a moment, not breaking eye contact. "Now... if you'll excuse me, I've got... stuff to do upstairs." Trying not to limp too obviously, Nathan started in the direction of the door again, glad that Manuel was at least not standing in the way.

"I look forward to receiving them. Tell Moira I said hello, and that she needs to relax. Everything will be fine so long as she and the others keep a cool head." he said with a slight smile.

Nathan nodded curtly and gestured for Manuel to precede him out of the office. "They're the best there is. They'll do what's needed."

Manuel nodded. "I bear no love to the Moors, but their offenses happened centuries ago." he said with a small smile. "I really must learn to let these little insults pass, don't you agree?" he said, stepping out of Nathan's office but walking alongside of him.

"What, the historical ones?" He was almost positive that Manuel wasn't walking with him just to provide support if he happened to topple over. "Probably for the best. If you cling too hard to history all you wind up doing is repeating it."

"Well, the historical insults would be a good place to start. After all, Danielle was nice enough to let our enslavement and extermination of her people pass, so I should pass the favor along and forgive the Moor." he said with a small laugh.

"Forgiveness is a funny thing," Nathan said a bit dimly, thinking about using the word 'unforgiveable' to... who had it been, Betsy? Or Cain? about Pete's involvement, whatever it was, with those camps. About that, not about the fight. Oh, he was holding a grudge at the stress it had put Moira through, but after what had happened last August... Nathan stumbled again, reeling back against the wall and unable to repress a noise of pain as his weight rested briefly against his broken arm.

"Yes. Yes, it is." Manuel said absently, his mind a thousand miles away. At least, it was until he got a sympathetic flash of pain from his arm. "OW! Dammit, stop that! Do you want some help or not?" he said.

Nathan's jaw clenched. "P-please," he managed, almost in a croak. "Just... to the elevator?" He tried to button up his mind and emotions as Manuel moved towards him, but his head was swimming and he couldn't concentrate. Definitely not a good idea to wander down to the office. Putting on a good show was all well and good, but...

Manuel nodded, and took a split-second to reinforce his shields as high as he could make them go and still function tolerably well. "Come on, you." he said, grabbing Nathan in his unburned unbruised areas and helping him to the elevator. But given this amount of proximity and Nathan's virtually-nonexistant shielding, he got the Full Monty. He felt what Nathan felt, physically and emotionally.

Nathan was doing his best not to project, at the very least, but it was impossible to find the right pattern to keep his emotions to himself. Manuel wasn't shoving him away and making a run for it, though, so hopefully he wasn't... oh, who am I kidding? "Thanks," Nathan said a bit raggedly as they reached the elevator.

Manuel nodded. "It was nothing." he said, although his eyes looked a little haunted. "Get some rest. You could sure use it." Then, on a complete whim, he reached out with his power to try to take some of the pain. Squash it, kill it, strangle it in its crib, disperse it. Anything to reduce the level of agony Nathan was in.

Nathan blinked, feeling woozy in an entirely different sort of way, complete with a sudden pins-and-needles feeling that shot through his body, there and gone before he could figure out what it was. Doggedly, he shook it off as the elevator door slid open. "That's the plan," he said, eyeing Manuel with a certain amount of bleary puzzlement. "I'll... see you later, I guess."

Blast. He couldn't get a grip on Nathan's pain - it slid away from him like hot oil. "Yes." he said simply, then turned around to limp away, favoring the same leg Nathan was currently favoring.