xp_logs | Nathan, Haroun, Miles and Artie and Rachel

Haroun finds Nathan brooding in the library over Amanda's departure, and offers a listening ear.

The leaves had mostly fallen, their fading colors still bright enough to make the landscape something other than gray and brown. The brightness didn't help his mood, however. Nathan stared stonily out the library window, ignoring the papers stacked in front of him, the ones he was supposed to be marking. Wouldn't be fair to be marking essays in this mood anyway, even if he was leaving tomorrow and wouldn't get back to them until later in the week if he let them slide now.

Haroun wheeled himself into the library slowly, taking his time. He was still exhausted from his latest session of physio, and rolling the wheelchair around was another workout on top of the workout he'd just had. But he didn't feel like resting, and he wasn't up for surfing the 'Net, so there was nothing wrong with a little mental workout while his body rested.

Nathan looked up at the arrival of a familiar psi-signature, edged with weariness, but then returned his bleak gaze to the view out the window. Maybe Haroun would just get a book and move along.

No such luck. Haroun knew brooding when he saw it, and he never did have much tolerance for it. He slowly wheeled his way over to his friend and nudged him with an inactive foot. "Hey." he said softly. "Bleak thoughts on a bleak day?" It didn't take a telepathic gene to know where Nathan's thoughts were going.

"Pretty much." Nathan looked back at him, mustering up a faint smile. "You look tired. Overdoing it again?"

"If I wasn't tired it wouldn't be a real workout, now, would it?" he shot back with a grin. "She fucked up, Nate. Crossed a line."

"A line? Try several." Nathan leaned back into the high-backed chair with a sigh. "In the medlab, with Manuel when she left... big lines. Big red lines."

Haroun nodded. "Yeah. You did the best anyone could have asked for." he pointed out. "Way she turned out, it's despite your influence, not because of it."

"Did I really? I hardly spoke to her for most of September, Haroun. Couldn't risk her poking and prodding about my accident... knowing that it was Pete might have just brought this, or something like this, on sooner." Nathan shook his head a little, his eyes going back to the window. "Although I suppose it goes farther back than that. When she left, after Youra, and then came back... it was awkward. She wanted the distance, but didn't, and I didn't know what to do..."

Haroun softly punched his friend in the arm. "Stop that. Playing what-if games will just tear you apart. Maybe you weren't there enough. Maybe. But nobody appointed you her keeper. She was not your responsibility. We gave her everything we could - a home, training, an education. She chose to spit on that, turn her back, and walk away. Let. Her. Go."

Nathan shrugged slightly, silent for a long moment. "I know you and Dom don't get along, and likely never will," he said quietly, "so the parallel is liable to be lost on you. But Dom pulled... a lot of crap, when she was Amanda's age. Lots and lots of stupid moments, on her part. But she never forgot that GW and I were there for her, whatever she got herself into. She always had that solid ground to stand on when she had to pick herself back up." His smile was tiny, humorless, oddly desperate. "I thought I'd given Amanda that as well. I really did."

"And look where that got Domino." he said before he could stop himself. "Sorry. Old argument, not germane here. Won't happen again." He took a deep breath and tried a different angle. "She's dangerous and unstable. We all tried to give her that foundation - Charles, you, all of us in some ways. We all failed."

Nathan played idly with the pen, continuing to ignore the stack of essays. "Hindsight is twenty-twenty," he said, very softly. "Easy enough to see where I went wrong, looking back. The firm ground was shaky from the get-go." His hand went white-knuckled around the pen. "I'm done. This pseudo-parental crap... I'm done."

Haroun nodded. "You have your own daughter to be parental to." he pointed out. "You have enough on your plate, with teaching, being a husband, being a father, and being an X-Man. Your job, way I scan it, is to fight to make the world a safer place for people just like your wife and daughter. So that no-one has to go through what Amanda went through, become what she's become."

"You'd think I would have learned, after Youra... there are limits to what I can do. No matter what I like to think." The pen snapped in his grip, and he dropped it with a sigh. "I sound like I'm giving up. On her. You're not supposed to give up on the people you love." There was ink all over his hand, puddling on the table. He stared at it and it levitated, forming a small liquid ball floating several inches off the table.

Haroun shrugged. "Seems more to me that she gave up on you. On all of us."

Nathan looked up at him, the ink-ball still floating. "I envy you your clearheadedness on this point," he said quietly. "I should have maybe listened to you more all along."

Haroun grinned. "I'm not a complete idiot, parbroiled brain or not. I see more clearly on this one because I don't have the investment you do." he said. "Just between you and me, Nate, she scares me shitless. I don't know exactly why I didn't die. I was in Medical when she pulled her little stunt." he admitted. "And since I'm still in recovery, I don't have a lot of stamina to pull through shit like what she did."

"All I could think about, when it happened, once I knew Moira was all right... was what if Rachel had been down there?" Nathan took a deep, shaky breath. He had dreamed about the what-if, for days. Maybe it was wrong of him to be focusing so hard on what hadn't after all happened, but dreaming about walking into Moira's office, standing over Rachel's crib and realizing, but still reaching out... his subconscious was a vicious thing, creating an updated nightmare version of that moment with Tyler like that.

Haroun nodded. "You have to take care of your own." he agreed. "First time in a while I've been thankful for the machines for beyond the usual reasons." he said. "They probably saved me."

Nathan looked down at the pile of papers. "I think I'm going to go play with my daughter," he said softly. "The marking can wait." At this point, it could wait until after the field trip and that was that. He'd reached a limit here, this weekend, Nathan knew. Time to pull back a little and regain his balance, or the field trip would be awkward indeed.

"Smart man." Haroun said. "Me, I'm looking for a little bit of intellectual distraction. Maybe I'll go read the Koran again. Or finally get around to finding an English translation of the Torah." he said. "Broaden my horizons a bit."

Nathan got up, picking up the pile of papers. "I need to come to one of your services with you, sometime," he said vaguely. "Just to see what it's like."

Haroun grinned. "You should." he said firmly. "Let me know if you've got a free Friday night sometime, and we can go."

Nathan eyed him for a moment. "Maybe I just wish I felt connected to something... someone..." He trailed off, shaking his head. "Maybe I want to be forgiven," he said more quietly, turning away from the table. "I don't know."

Haroun looked at his friend, and reached out a hand to place it on the bigger man's arm. "Only one who can forgive you is you." he said softly. "And I presume you can read Arabic as well as speak it. Read the Koran. Hear the words of the Prophet. Think about them."

"Just... don't look smug," Nathan said a little feebly. Behind him, the ink-ball hit the table with a splat. "I'm just having a dark night of the soul here, that's all."

Haroun pouted at Nathan. "Wouldn't dream of it. And if you're having a dark night of the soul - light a candle. Jews got that one right, I have to hand it to them."

~*~

Returning to his suite, Nathan discovers that his daughter has company. Miles and Artie have an Idea, and a good one.

Miles peered through the doorway then grinned at Artie, knowing that 1) they had permission to be there and 2) the only way this would work would be with careful and constant practice. And starting early was good. Very good. Carefully so as to not startle the other person in the room, Miles drew closer, then stopped a few feet away, waiting for Artie to get everything ready.

Artie grinned back and imaged a thumbs-up. This was, quite possibly, their best plan yet, and they had a history of awesome plans.

Creeping a bit closer, Miles peered over the edge of the focus of their attention, instantly catching the attention of the occupant within. Carefully, making sure to speak slowly and clearly, he started with the first word of the lesson.

"Nathan is Papa." Emphasis was put on the last word, and Miles peeked over his shoulder both out of curiosity and in anticipation.

Artie helpfully projected an image of Nathan, making sure their student could see. After a moment, and a careful look over his shoulder, the image grew just the vaguest suggestion of a bubble. Best to be on the safe side, just in case.

Miles grinned at the image and nodded at Artie, then turned to Rachel again, who was staring at them both - and the picture - with rapt attention. "Papa!" Pointing at the picture, Miles repeated the word several times, slowly, giving the baby as much time as she desired to inspect the image.

Finally, though, it was time for the next part of their "lesson". Miles waved his hand slightly to give Artie his cue, and then spoke again. "Moira is Mama. Mama!"

The image of Nathan disappeared, replaced by one of Moira in full doctorly regalia complete with a stethoscope that, in what Artie considered to be perfectly reasonable artistic license, was encased in an ice cube.

A giggle interrupted the lesson, Miles clapping a hand over his mouth as he realized he'd diverged from the intended plan. Shooting Artie a Look for being so funny as to make him laugh, Miles then turned to Rachel once more, the very picture of seriousness. "Mama!"

Artie grinned at Miles. Well, as long as he was gonna get in trouble for making him laugh anyway . . . the Moira-image's lab coat turned plaid, and she began riding around the edge of the crib on a miniature Loch Ness monster.

It was too much, finally, for the person standing in the doorway watching this. A soft laugh escaped Nathan, and when the two boys whirled around, surprised, he gave them a smile no less warm for the suspicious shine in his eyes and the rapid blinking.

"Whose stroke-of-genius idea was this, hmm? Or was it a joint operation?" Miles was quick to claim the latter, and Nathan swallowed, debating whether or not young male pride would stand for hugs. "Well, you know," he said, and compromised by joining them at the crib, one arm around each of them, squeezing just for a moment, "I think it's definitely worth pursuing." His eyes were stinging, but smiling through it was easy. The easiest thing in the world. "I think I'm going to have to get you two to come back and do this on a regular basis."

The suggestion seemed to meet with approval, Miles very seriously telling Rachel that they would try again later, accompanied by Artie's vehement nodding, before scampering back out the door. Nathan let out a noise that might have been a laugh, had it not been considerably more than half-sob. An inquisitive coo came from the crib, and Nathan looked down to see his daughter smiling at him, waving her hands in an obvious demand.

"Come here, you," he said in a cracked whisper, picking her up carefully.

"Ooooo...."

He was not going to cry. Not while holding his telepathic daughter. But the tears were slipping down his face anyway, and Rachel was still cooing softly at him, fuzzy golden thoughts reaching out to him, offering him a perfect reflection of Artie's images.

Sitting down carefully in the rocking chair Cain had made, Nathan cradled Rachel, rocking her gently. "~Love you, little one,~" he whispered, slipping into Askani almost automatically. "~And I promise, I'll never-~" His voice caught, but Rachel kept cooing, huge, slightly sleepy blue eyes locked on his face. "Who's comforting who, here?" he whispered finally, kissing the top of her head, love so fierce that it ached slipping down the thread-fine but growing link between them.

Another of those baby smiles, almost mischievous, was his only answer.