LOG: Moira and Marius, Saturday night

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Marius wakes up from his second coma in a week feeling considerably less chipper than the first go around. Luckily Moira's around for this awakening, too, and does a good job talking him down in spite of the fact that what follows might be the most incomprehensible conversation ever to occur in the history of the Institute.



He felt the pain first, two aching hands over either side of his face. After a moment of confusion, Marius realized that was what had woken him up. He lay still for a moment, eyes closed as he tried to catalogue the pain. It was difficult; it seemed to cover most of his face. The right side in particular seemed angry.

He tried to remember what had happened. What little he could was jumbled, disorienting. Joking with Haroun, the sudden weakness -- and then nothing but grey. He wasn't sure what had happened, but since he was becoming distantly aware of having again been tied to his bed he could hazard a guess.

The first time he'd woken like this he'd felt good. But then, he thought blurrily, he'd only been thrown against the wall that time. Now it felt as if his head had been knocked against something hard. Twice. He twitched the skin around his right eye and hissed through his teeth as the simple movement shot fresh pain through the abused area--

There was something wrong with his face.

The pain had kept him from noticing it immediately. It had been the indrawn breath. Something about the way the air was hitting the roof of his mouth and throat wasn't right.

Now that he thought about it, neither was the feeling he was getting from his left arm.

Something was wrong. Marius opened his eyes.

He had never really thought about his nose. He was aware of it, of course, always on the edge of his vision, but it wasn't something he spared much thought for. It was a nose. It was just . . . there.

He wasn't prepared to find it almost two inches farther away than it should have been. He wasn't prepared for it to have fur.

Marius jerked back with such violence the cot rocked. He thrashed again, barely noticing, gripped with the insane need to get away from the alien sensation of air rasping through the wrong kind of teeth, the unfamiliar muscles moving in his neck and jaw. Agony shot through the injured left side of his neck, and an animal yelp of pain emerged from his throat -- in panic he tried to free his arms to claw the wrongness from his face, but the left wasn't moving properly and why couldn't he feel his fingers--

Moira had been dozing in a chair in Marius' room. Normally she left sleeping patients alone with the occassional check up but considering everything that had happened, she figured she might be needed there when he woke up. The crashing noise jolted her awake and she was across the room in seconds.

"Marius!" If he hadn't been tied down she probably would have gotten hit considering how violent his thrashing was getting. He was going to hurt himself if he didn't calm down but without knowing how his body metabolized medication, Moira wanted to avoid sedatives for the time being.

Leaning over, pressing her weight against his to bear him further against the mattress in an attempt to stop him from--whatever he was trying to do--Moira tried again. "Marius, look at me. Marius."

The command registered where her weight on him had not; he'd been so frantic to get free he'd almost bitten her before even realizing she was there. The familiar voice stopped him in mid-twist, chest heaving, panting with panic and exertion. Her hands on his shoulders were reassuringly solid. Calming.

He had to take another few breaths before trying to speak. "Mmhraa," he managed, the garbled word a half-whine of pain. He couldn't get his mouth to work right, and it was hard to concentrate through the ache in his head and the pounding of his heart. He twitched his left arm feebly, a distracted effort to find something like a normal position. "Whaas hh . . . haaa . . ."

Leaning back up, making sure to keep her face where he could see it, Moira tried again. "Dinnae try ta talk but try an' relax," she said, words and tone firm but warm, "though I know 'ow 'ard tha' is right now."

Marius was trying, that much was obvious, though the look of fear was still in his eyes.

"Aye, tha's it. Remember how I said we werenae sure 'ow often ye 'ad ta feed? I think yer body is tryin' ta tell us now. Ye went after Haroun while ye were liftin' weights but ye dinnae make it to 'im. Rahne Sinclair got inbetween th' two o' ye an' ye tussled, feedin' off o' her--seems like she made th' decision tha' it would be better ta be 'er than Haroun." There was pride in her voice at that. "Marius, Rahne's powers allow 'er ta shapeshift inta a wolf--like Catseye, only bigger. Wha' yer goin' through now is partial metamorphis since ye absorb powers."

Marius managed to twist his neck so he could look at his left arm. It had been strapped cross-ways over his chest, the change in physiology making it impossible to lay flat at his side. It took him a moment to realize what looked like a long, grey-furred dog's leg was actually attached to him. Something about the sight of the animal limb pressed against his bare chest -- a chest running to fur towards the collarbone -- was disorienting beyond reason. Suddenly feeling sick, he whimpered and tried to pull away again, but Moira's hands were still on his shoulders, gentle but firm. Marius tried to push the image out of his mind, but his altered nose was still in his line of sight.

"Hhaw . . . guh baack?" And once it was out he felt a second rush of panic, because he realized he didn't have the slightest idea. How was he supposed to change back when he didn't know how he'd gotten into this state in the first place? What if Rahne's power wore off and now he was stuck like this?

Letting go of one of his shoulders Moira cupped his cheek and made him look straight at her. "Th' effects 'ave gone down since ye blacked out, which means yer body is revertin' ta normal slowly but surely. Yer probably nay able ta retain borrowed powers for more than a certain lengt' o' time but we're nay sure jus' yet."

Marius kept relaxing in inches but every time he worked something else out in his mind he starting panicking again. Not that she could blame him at all about that.

"I need ye ta focus on me an' relax. Th' more ye tense up th' 'arder it will be ta allow yer body ta go back ta normal."

Marius forced himself to listen to what Moira was saying. She's the doctor, he reminded himself, swallowing back the sting of bile. She knows what she's talking about. She deals with this every day. He made a fist with his right hand. The fingers were clawed, and felt odd against the teeth on his palm . . . but it was definitely a hand. He shifted his legs, feet. Everything seemed normal there. He shut his eyes, took a deep breath. Moira's hand was warm against his uninjured cheek. Everything is under control.

"Yah're . . . e'sperr'." Marius willed his muscles loose, his breathing regular. "Trrus' . . . prof'shnaal . . . 'pinon." He opened his eyes and attempted something like a smile. "Donn' nee' . . . hhit m'."

A rich chuckle escaped at that. "Dinnae worry, nay anyway 'ittin' today," she announced. "An' we'll get up back up on yer feet in nay time, ye've got me word on tha'." Despite how upbeat he had been since he had arrived, Moira knew it had to be hard. Finding out you're a mutant in a new place, and a mutant power that forced you to attack people.

And now this.

Squeezing Marius' shoulder gently, she gave him another smile. "Ye goin' ta be okay?"

Marius made another attempt at a smile, this one coming easier. "No wuh . . . rries." He licked his lips, and managed to almost entirely avoid thinking about the sensation of running his tongue across his nose. "S'wha' . . . ha-ppen'? Face hurrs. T'll m' otherr bloke . . . leas' as rough."

No worries he says. "Rahne's 'ad quite a lot more time wit' 'er mutation than ye 'ave," Moira pointed out, the hand that had been cupping his cheek left but smoothed back his hair-fur on his head. Under any other circumstances she would have waited to see what kind of person he was, since some didn't enjoy physical contact from people they weren't close to.

But in times of stress she figured that could go right out the window. Besides, he had enough of Rahne's DNA in him that she was banking on this being a soothing gesture. "She's roughed up, ye two tussled somethin' fierce. Weak from th' bitin' but she'll be back on 'er feet faster than ye will."

"Li-uhl Rahne?" Marius' mouth half-opened in what Moira recognized as the lupine equivalent of a grin. "Who'uh . . . 'hought. Hea' 'eels . . . hhi' wuth sack'uh . . . brrick." He let his eyes close to the pressure of her hand, and sighed. The rumble in the back of his throat was less alarming than his earlier yelp. It was a preexisting response to having his head stroked by attractive women.

Moira chuckled, both at the question about Rahne and at the noise. Looks like her instincts were right. "Rahne packs more o' a punch than even she knows, but Haroun also 'ad a hand...or I should say a foot...in some o' it, though she's th' one who kept ye occupied."

Marius raised his eyebrows. "Haa-oun? Bas'arr'! Knew 'eelchairr . . . aall cle'er ploy. Won' fool m' . . . 'ice. See'uh hhi . . . 'a'err." He paused, as much for a deep breath as to readjust his grip on the unfamiliar muscles he was using to speak. "'A'err. 'hought 'ou menn-tion' nni' 'ap-py 'rugs?"

Briefly she wondered if this was like someone trying to decipher her accent. Nodding, she patted his head again and smiled. "Aye, we can give ye somethin' ta knock ye out for a while, though we'll 'ave ta be careful in th' dosage. Want somethin' like tha'?"

"'eah. Ssuh . . . 'leep ii' . . . off." And he was tired. His head ached, and talking was too much of an effort. Almost three months as an invalid notwithstanding, a few hours of drugged sleep were looking attractive.

Feeling emotionally and physically exhausted, Marius managed to find the energy for one more grin. "Se'tives ann' hea' maa . . . ssage. Yah're bes' doc'or e' . . . err. Ss'rry I brroke y' . . . hhusban'."

The laugh that escaped was part amused and part resigned but still cheerful at the same time. "Dinnae worry 'bout tha', he bounced back pretty well. Besides, he's 'ad worse in th' past." Moira tilted her head down at him, looking pleased and embarrassed at the same time. "Aww, thank ye, though ye'll see tha' we're all pretty good around 'ere."

"S'artin' uh . . . see 'at. Eye f' talen', me." He shifted his eyes away from her face for a moment. "S . . . sstay a bi'? Make surre i' wuh . . . rks, an' 'at."

"O' course, Marius. 'ang on jus' a second." It took no time to administer the medication to help him sleep and she erred on the side of caution on the dosage. Leaving him for just a second, Moira gathered up the chair and a few things she had by it and settled next to the bed. "I'll be right 'ere for a while for ye."

It didn't take long for the sedative to take effect. He woke once after that, disoriented and in pain, but his whimpers were met with murmured comfort and a gentle hand on his forehead. Marius opened his eyes once, as if to confirm that she was really there, and then sleep took him once again.