WAY Backdated because my life turned upside down.

[x-scarletwitch.livejournal.com]

Wanda starts to feel the affects of having the entire history of the Clan dropped into her head in one go. Or, well, she would if she was completely conscious. Nathan finds her in the midst of some late night writings and it takes a bit to shake her lose.



The room around Wanda was, in fact, a complete disaster area. It had the look of someone getting ready for bed when a whirlwind attacked it. The lamp on her desk was on as she bent over a series of notebooks, writing furiously in them.

The robe she was wearing was starting to slip off but she paid it no mind, completely intent on what she was doing.

Nathan, walking past in the hall outside on his way back to his suite, paused at Wanda's door, frowning. What the... The furiously spinning thoughts inside the room were not being vocalized in English. He turned to the door, knocking sharply on it. "Wanda?" he called, then hesitated. "~Sister?~" he tried in Askani, swallowing past the stab of pain. "~Are you well?~"

Wanda froze, pen in mid-stroke, as Nathan came in slowly, staring around at the room. Turning just her head, she blinked at him once through a wall of unruly hair. "~It must be written,~" she responded, her voice lower than what it normally was.

Nathan eyed her for a moment, then came over and tugged her robe closed, without betraying any embarassment at the situation. "~And it will be. But you do not need to deprive yourself of sleep to do it. There is no hurry.~" Not anymore.

For a second there was a ghost of a smile. "~A part of Wanda is asleep,~" she responded. "~She sleeps, badly perhaps and will gain no rest, while I write.~"

Nathan's eyes narrowed. "All right," he murmured in English. "This has pushed you into a dissociative state. This does not make me happy." He looked down at the journals. "~There is time,~" he said, quietly but forcefully. "~There's no reason to do what I did, and lose night after night... if this keeps happening, I'm going to have to do something to stop it. You will not burn yourself out, not even for their memory.~"

There was a shudder for a second and the pen fell out of her fingers. "~Too much information to be processed,~" Wanda said, voice still soft and low. "~Presses and pulls even during the day time, making it hard to write. The sleep writing has disadvantages though there are more disadvantages to taking a slower route.~"

"~She should have given it to me.~" His voice came out sounding hollow, but Nathan shook his head, telling himself not to be selfish. Wanda was better suited, in so many ways.

Wanda whipped her head around, staring at him with still slightly vacant eyes. "~She knew, brother, what was to transpire. Would your mind have been the best place for this after all of that? Besides, it is not like you cannot visit this mind when you have need of a reminder.~"

"~I lived their lives and their deaths,~" Nathan said bitterly, turning away. "~I don't need to dwell in their shadows to remember them.~"

"~The historys are no more shadows than you and I,~" she shot back, journals forgotten but only barely coming out of the 'trance' she had been in since earlier that evening. "~Mourn for your family because that is what they are but realize that when you and I are finally gone, these books will one day be the only testament to their lives. They are not shadows but a colorful history of a bright, wonderful people. They are gone but will not be forgotten.~"

Wanda was standing and suddenly swayed, a hand clutching her head. "Not if I have anything to say about it," she coughed, sinking to the floor with a curse. "...I normally do not remember these 'fun filled' evenings..."

Nathan gazed down at her for a moment, then crouched down, scooping her up in his arms and heading towards the bedroom. "You're heavier than Moira."

A half groan, half laughed greated that before she punched him in the shoulder. "Your are just lucky your wife was in love with you for a while since your way with words leaves much to be desired." Wanda winced as the light hit her eyes. "So. This explains why I have been having trouble sleeping and massive migraines."

"I should have checked on you before this," Nathan murmured, sighing. "I just... haven't really wanted to talk to you about this." As he walked into the bedroom, the covers on Wanda's bed drew themselves back, the lights dimming. He got her arranged in bed and then straightened. "Aspirin? Water?"

Pressing both hands into her eyes, she nodded. "Both, please. Don't worry, I understand. I had a vague idea of what was going on but until now, nothing really solid. I have kept quiet about why I have been ill and luckily the room I was in when it happened was cleaned up pretty quickly. I have not really been in the mood to discuss it much, either." With a murmur of thanks, Wanda took the offered water and asprin.

"Just answer me one question, okay?" he asked tiredly, straightening again. "Did you agree to this? Did she give you the chance to make the decision? Everything was... so rushed." His voice faltered. "It all happened so fast that night."

"I..." She took another sip of the water. "I did not know what was going on but I understood the urgency, that something had happened or was going to happen. She had never sought me out like that before, not while I was awake, so I knew whatever it was she wanted, I had to give. So to answer your question, no, she did not ask in so many words. But I gave freely."

"Well. It's something, I suppose," Nathan said hoarsely. "I'm glad you made the choice, even if you didn't..." He stopped, shaking his head. "I should let you sleep. You are going to sleep," he told her, almost fiercely. "I'm not having this ruin your health."

"It was not like I was planning these late night writing sessions," Wanda grumped, giving him a look. "I'll try, though. The information does have to be processed and I would rather have that sooner than later. Besides, I think...I think there is a message waiting at the end. For you."

Nathan swallowed again, his throat feeling so tight that it was almost painful. "Oh, joy," he rasped, turning away from the bed. "Can't wait."

Wanda reached out and grabbed the back of his shirt, glaring holes into his head. "You are mourning, I realize this," she said, giving him a shake. "You are angry and upset. But if you allow this to change how our relationship--our friendship--is, I will kindly ask your wife's permission to kick your ass." Letting go, she sunk further into the blankets, turning the glare to another wall. "~I do not wish to lose touch with any more brothers.~"

Nathan half-turned back towards her. "Get some sleep, Wanda," he said tiredly, the edge gone from his voice. "We can talk about this more tomorrow. See if there's anything Charles can do to make it easier on you."

"You realize if I didn't need this water I'd throw it at your head," she replied, dryly, pulling a pillow over her face. Maybe tonight she wouldn't dream of fire.