xp_logs | Nathan, on Muir

Nathan stayed a little longer after the funeral than most of the others, for understandable reasons. He's wandering the halls of the castle, alone - and then not.

He couldn't sleep. That was not a good thing, Nathan knew; he needed the sleep, very badly at this point, and felt unspeakably terrible, but he couldn't slow his thoughts down enough for sleep. He'd opted for a stroll around the castle to see if he couldn't maybe wear himself out, before he resorted to the pills. The pills would solve the problem, but he was terrified of the dreams. The more things change...

The castle was quiet, most of those who'd come for the funeral having headed home. The Pack was still there, of course, and he'd spent the bulk of the day with them. Not saying much. There wasn't much to be said. He thought he might head back to Westchester tomorrow. He kept expecting someone to say it, to point out that it was his fault GW was dead, that it had been done with his powers. Maybe Lien. Maybe that was what she was waiting to say...

"You know, you always worry me when you get this sleep-deprived," a soft, warmly amused voice came from just behind him, to his left. Nathan stopped dead in his tracks, blinking as he turned slowly to face GW, who was leaning against the wall, his arms folded across his chest but a smile on his face. "You tend to start sounding a little on the psychotic side. Moreso than usual, I mean."

Nathan stared at his friend for a long, silent moment. "I worry myself, sometimes," he said finally. "When I start seeing dead people."

GW's smile grew, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "You're not used to it by now?"

"Point." Nathan stared at him, his jaw trembling even as he tried to clench it, keep his expression steady. Just a hallucination, he told himself. Sleep deprivation, and guilt, and he wasn't actually...

"Hey." GW took a step forward, his expression more serious but still almost gentle as he studied Nathan. "You're a mess, bro. You need to sleep."

"Obviously." His reply came out sounding rather strangled. GW's clothes... the same clothes he'd been wearing the night they'd gone down to Billie's pub. The night that had ended with the walk on the beach, and him falling into the water. "Up for a drink?" he asked dimly. Maybe they were back to that night, so that he could do the next couple of weeks over again and not make the same mistakes...

GW shook his head slowly. "I could be talked into a walk, though," he said softly. "You look like you could use the company."

Nathan raised his hands to cover his face for a moment. He lowered them and GW was still there, still watching him. Part of him had wanted him to disappear. Part of him hadn't. "I can't do this," he said raggedly. "I can't... can't pretend..."

"No one's asking you to pretend. We both know I'm buried out there in Moira's family plot." GW gave him a lopsided smile. "Thank you, by the way. If I'd had to pick-"

"Stop," Nathan whispered, his vision blurring with tears. Just about the first of this whole unspeakable week, he realized.

"Hey. Look at me." And ghost or not, there were hands resting on his shoulders. He could feel them. GW's expression was back to being serious when Nathan finally looked up. "Let's go for a walk," GW urged again, gently. "If you're not going to get some rest, let's at least get some air."