xp_logs | Log: Rahne, Nathan (Reply)

Backdated to Tuesday, December 20, which is entirely my fault. Rahne and Nathan have a talk by the lake, about Rachel's flight habits and the loss of Askani.

It was, to put it mildly, quite cold out tonight. Nathan preferred to think of it as refreshing, though. It was helping clear his head, and the moonlight on the lake was actually very nice.

Kyle's bringing up venison on Lorna's journal earlier had reminded Rahne that she could hunt now, and she had taken the opportunity to reacquaint herself with the lay of the forest, and where the deer were going. She trotted back out of the woods now, toward the lake, and caught Nathan's scent as the wind changed. She paused, head up and tail waving lightly and indecisively; he'd most likely sense her too, and he had been... off, lately, and she wasn't sure if he wanted company.

Nathan smiled a little as he sensed a familiar mind. #Hey, you,# he projected lightly. She was off to his left, somewhere in the woods.

#Hi. Pretty night.# Rahne loped forward. As an afterthought, she tried adding an image of just what the night looked and felt like through her strange and not-quite-properly-canine vision, along with the scent and sound.

Nathan blinked, his head tilting almost spontaneously. "You're getting good at that," he said, aloud. "Not that your mind's ever not been disciplined, but that was a very solid projection."

Startled pleasure rippled through her mind; Rahne gave him a wolf's grin and shifted far enough to speak, and to trigger the collar's shapeshift, though she kept some of the fur.

"Thank you. 'Tis so vivid to start with, I think that helps...."

"Strong sensory impressions generally are easier to convey," Nathan said, starting back towards the lake and letting Rahne follow along as she chose. "So... how have you been?" he asked a bit awkwardly. "Seems like a while since we've really talked..."

"Aye, it is...." Rahne trailed him, watching the light on the water. He smelled a little pensive. "I've been well, mostly. Busy. The usual things, and trying to sort out university applications... I forgot 'twas hunting season until Kyle and Lorna reminded me."

"I've been..." Nathan paused, laughing a bit ruefully. "Busy. Catching up after the trip to Africa. I'll be glad when the term's done and I no longer have to worry about teaching."

"...I wasna expecting that," Rahne admitted. "That ye'd stop teaching courses, I mean. Ye've been good at it. But I can see how 'twould be a bit much."

"It's just too much," Nathan said after a moment. "Between the team, and the work I'm doing for Charles... I can't be sure of my schedule. I've already had a few people ask me to do independent studies, though." It was part of the truth, he reflected, and it was his good fortune that the half-truth could stand as a perfectly good reason in and of itself.

"I saw that." Forge, Marie-Ange... Paige... no, wait, Paige had been talking about something else. Not, thankfully, Superman's underwear.

"To be honest, Rahne..." Nathan hesitated, then shook his head quizzically. "I'm a little tired. It's not been a great year, on a lot of fronts. As wonderful as some parts of it have been."

"I ken ye've had a rough time." She paused, mouth quirking. "Quite likely more than I'm allowed to know about."

Nathan looked down at her, a faint, amused smile tugging at his lips. "Tell me something? Did you figure out that I didn't actually get hit by a truck in September? I'm beginning to wonder if there was anyone actually fooled."

Rahne hesitated. "I wasna too sure. But I thought something else would probably have to be going on for it to have happened."

Nathan chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Yeah, there was." He stared out at the water as they walked. "I've had to keep so much to myself this last few months. It's no wonder I've come across as distracted."

"What, because ye were?" Rahne asked a bit dryly. Her voice softened. "I ken, it isna funny."

"Not particularly, no," Nathan said, but the smile came back, lingering. "So hopefully if I cut back a little you all might see more of me." If that was what they wanted. Nathan wished he could shake the idea that he'd lost something, these last few months... something that he'd had with the kids but which had withered away and died for lack of attention.

Rahne looked up. "That'd be nice."

Nathan gazed down at her, then smiled, a little more steadily. "I'm glad you've been able to spend time with Rachel," he said after a moment. "In terms of people that I'm happy to see my telepathic daughter exposed to, you are very definitely near the top of the list."

Rahne blushed a little. "I like her. ...I watched her when you were recovering from, er, not being hit by a truck."

"She's very uncomplicated," Nathan said, noting the blush. "Not in the bad way. It's..." He trailed off, his expression gone briefly warm and gentle. "If people are themselves, around her, she loves it. It's that simple, for her."

Rahne nodded thoughtfully. "She's very sweet." She glanced up again, mouth twitching. "I'm not sure I can babysit very effectively if she's going to fly off, though."

"We could always put a tether on her," Nathan suggested. "I've been considering that, actually... one of those leashes they sometimes put toddlers in, just adapted for a baby." He snorted. "Makes babyproofing difficult."

"Put on a leash and babysat by a wolf," Rahne murmured. "She's having an interesting childhood."

"Well, hopefully none of it will be too warping. I'd hate to have her grow up and blame Moira and I for not having a normal childhood."

"Normal's relative. She'll know ye love her."

"One of the fringe benefits of telepathy. No more room for doubt..." Nathan trailed off again, his expression bleak as he looked away. "I'm not being very good company all of a sudden."

"It must be sudden, I hadna noticed," Rahne said, bewildered. "Do ye mean ye want me to go?"

"No," Nathan protested almost immediately, then hesitated. "Unless you want to."

"No," Rahne said quietly. "I was only offering in case ye did mean ye wanted to be by yuirself."

"I spent enough time by myself these days." Nathan's voice was low, hoarse. "It's too quiet inside my head."

Rahne flicked through vague possible explanations -- Dr. MacTaggart and Rachel were fine, so probably not the links, could something be wrong with his telepathy? -- and settled on an uncertain, "Why?"

"Askani's not there anymore." It was strange, how easily it slipped out.

Rahne's eyes widened. "What happened...?"

Edited version. "My... seizures? It was the overcharge of psionic energy. So we knew she'd have to go at some point soon. But I wound up in a situation where it happened sooner than we expected. Kind of... suddenly."

"Och, Nathan." She laid a hand lightly on his arm. Askani gone? And... "I'm sorry."

Nathan patted her arm gently. "I haven't told very many people," he said quietly. "Haven't wanted to. But I had it pointed out to me that I can't pretend it didn't happen. Not healthy and all."

"I ken she's been so dear to you," Rahne said softly. It was a shock even to her, and she hadn't had the woman living in her brain.

"It's... very strange inside my head," he murmured. There was something calm and undemanding about the conversation; it didn't precisely make this easier to talk about, but it didn't make it any harder. "And it was just so sudden."

Rahne looked up at him, rather at a loss for words... most of her own ideas of comfort in mourning didn't work so well when both mourner and mourned were inclined to be suspicious of religion. But ideas weren't necessarily the only option, either; she scooted a little bit closer and slid her arms around him in a hug.

Nathan twitched for a moment, startled, but then put his arms around her, hugging back. His eyes were stinging suddenly. "I'm very fond of all of the redheads in my life," he said a bit hoarsely. "I don't want to lose any of them."

"Fond of ye too," Rahne said, a little muffled.

Nathan drew back a little, but kept an arm around her shoulders. "You know," he said more lightly, "I haven't done hardly any Christmas shopping? It's really kind of alarming. I think I'm going to be giving New Year's gifts."