xp_logs | Praemissi non amissi (Nathan, Jennie)

Jennie's eating a solitary lunch when Nathan, instead of doing the same, joins her. The conversation starts out innocuously enough, but leads to Jennie wondering aloud just what the funeral was about. And Nathan tells her. Everything. Jennie is a surprisingly good listener, and has a very good suggestion.

Thursday afternoons were not a crowded time in the dining hall, and today it was downright deserted. Only Jennie sat in the hall. The silence was punctuated by the occasional clatter of a single fork as she picked apart a cobb salad. Jennie didn't quite know where everyone was, but she was rather digging the rare alone time. Lunch usually involved listening to Marius chatter. While always very entertaining, the boy could be exhausting.

The dining hall was strangely empty. Maybe most people were eating elsewhere, Nathan thought, pausing at the door with his sandwich. There'd been a definite lack of food in the suite, and Rachel was spending some quality time with her mother down in the labs, so he hadn't really wanted to sit alone and brood.

He spotted Jennie sitting alone at a table, and then, after a moment, a familiar purple cat-shape moving beneath one of the other tables. Catseye hopped up on the table as he watched, then over to the windowsill, where she settled contentedly, her tail flicking idly.

Jennie was looking up at him, and Nathan told himself to go over and sit with her. "Hi," he said softly, unconsciously reacting to the hush.

"Hey," she said, with a bit of a grin. Nathan seated himself uncomfortably across from her, the sounds of the chair scraping and plate landing on the table echoing. She smiled a little at his wince. Jennie hadn't really seen much of him since the Seattle experience. Just a glimpse in the halls or a frantic run down the stairs. "Why are you whispering?" She said in the same hushed tone.

"If I'm too loud the invisible people will jump out and go 'Boo!'" Nathan said with a subdued grin that lasted for all of two seconds before fading away again. He glanced at Catseye, who had apparently gone right to sleep in the sun.

"In this school? I wouldn't be surprised." Jennie said in a normal voice and speared a boiled egg. "Marius was all disappointed that the 12-year-old who can blend himself in with the rest of his environment wasn't available for donations. Which means the girl's locker room is safe for now."

Nathan raised an eyebrow. "Ah, the things I miss when I lock myself in my office or vanish off to foreign parts..." He picked up half his sandwich, turned it over, then set it back down again, contemplatively.

Jennie was no psychic, but she knew when people were looking troubled. Mr. Dayspring had the look of a man who was slowly drowning. She briefly wondered if it was her place to ask, but quickly banished that thought. "You okay there, teach?"

Nathan looked up at her, surprised briefly by the question - and the nickname. "I'm... better than I was," he said, somewhat vaguely. "The trip to Kazakhstan was tiring, and then the funeral..."

"I heard about the funeral." Jennie said looking more at her salad then at Mr. Dayspring. "Nobody would tell me who it was for. All the other teachers just kinda brushed me off." She stomped on the wave of annoyance that rose up in her. It was times like these that reminded her that even with all they had been through in the fall, there were things that she still didn't know because she was still a "new kid."

Nathan blinked at her, then stared down at his sandwich, catching the stray, irritated thoughts she was leaking. "You... probably never met him," he said, a catch in his voice. "Although he was here a couple of times since you arrived."

Jennie heard the catch. She bit her lip. "I'm sorry. Were you close with him?"

Nathan nodded slowly, pushing his sandwich across the plate with a finger. "He was my best friend," he said very quietly.

Jennie's heart did a weird floppy thing. "I'm sorry," she said sincerely.

Nathan looked up at her, remembering what he knew about why she had arrived at the school. "He was killed, too," he said, his voice still low. "In New York, last Tuesday. I was supposed to be meeting him for lunch. I was... about a block away, when I felt it happen." His jaw trembled a little as his eyes dropped back to the plate. "I ran," he said hoarsely, "but I wasn't in time. At least I was able to be with him when he died."

He had no idea why he'd just told her that.

Jennie nodded. "That's good, that you were there. That you were the last thing he saw." An image bubbled up in Jennie's mind, a staring eyeball and small buzzing fly walking across it, and the thick coppery smell of blood. She shook her head slightly and pushed her plate away. She gave Mr. Dayspring a small smile.

"I'm sorry," he said stiffly, seeing the image in her mind and feeling unutterably ashamed of himself for a moment, unable to keep it from reflecting in his expression. Sure, burden the girl. Nice going, Dayspring.

What a mess he was. What a pitiful excuse for even an ex-teacher, for a... His eyes were burning with tears that he tried futilely to blink away, suddenly.

"We called him GW," he said, his voice catching again. "Because his name was George Washington Bridge, and he hated it. Used to say that his parents had cursed him."

Jennie smiled at him reassuringly. She remembered what this was like, the wanting to talk and the wanting to be left alone. If he was ready to talk she was there to listen. "What else was he like?"

She was a good-hearted kid, she really was. He'd seen that in her almost from the start. "He was a good man," Nathan said faintly. "One of the best I've ever known. Even if his occupation for a number of years wasn't socially acceptable."

He paused for a long moment, then went on slowly. "You know what he and my other friends have been doing since August?" It was a rhetorical question, so he didn't wait for an answer. "There are these camps, in Africa. Places where they keep mutant kids, to train them to be soldiers. Awful places."

Jennie's stomach did a drop. "Jeez."

"GW and the others have been going to these camps and rescuing the kids." Nathan swallowed, rubbing at his eyes for a moment before he went on. "We actually raided the first... the X-Men, I mean. Back in July. But we can't spend all our time in Africa, searching for these places. There's too much that needs doing in too many different parts of the world. GW... he and the others decided that they'd take care of that part."

Jennie nodded. The X-Men had been a wee bit busy with all the crap that had happened during the fall, she imagined.

"So many kids," Nathan said, almost thinking aloud now more than talking to Jennie, as he did the math in his head. "Almost as many mutant kids as there are students here, at this point..."

Jennie looked at her hands. She was safe here, she knew that. She didn't believe that anything could happen to her inside this school. But what if she hadn't been so lucky? Like those African kids? "What happened to those kids?" she asked quietly.

"The Professor has friends all over the world," Nathan said softly. "A number of them in Africa. They worked with GW and my friends to move these kids and their families to safer places to live. Some of the older kids decided to go back to try and help get other mutants out. They helped them do that, too, if that was what they decided."

"Did you get all of the camps?" Jennie moved a piece of cucumber around with her fork. She wasn't hungry anymore, but she needed to do something with her hands.

Nathan shook his head. "There are more," he murmured, "but it's not... well, it was never safe," he said, forcing himself to smile, although it had to look pretty ghastly, "but they couldn't stay in Africa. At least not right now. There's..." His throat tried to close. "GW getting killed... it wasn't the first time the..."

He was not going to break down. He was not. "It's not safe for them," he said unevenly. "Someone who's trying to get to me has proved he can get to them, and I'm not... I can't lose anyone else I love. This person..."

Something broke inside him, a reserve on this particular subject that wasn't nearly as iron as it used to be, and as insane as it was, he heard himself go on, his voice breaking. "You know, I used to be married? Long before I met Moira. I had a wife, and a son... and they died, too, because of him."

Jennie tentatively laid a hand on Nathan's arm. She could see he was desperately trying not to cry. "It's okay. I promise I won't tell anyone."

Nathan swallowed, laying a hand on hers, but shaking his head. "You know what?" he asked with a broken little laugh. "You don't have to promise me that. I'm so sick of keeping this secret. My whole life got turned upside down at the end of the summer, and I've tried so hard to keep it to myself, or at least to the team... and it's screwed up so much, Jennie. Look at me. I hardly talk to you guys anymore. I missed..." His voice cracked again. "I missed so much that was going on underneath my nose, and it's not like keeping it quiet's let me devote all my attention to solving the problem. I haven't solved it. My uncle's still running around kidnapping and murdering my friends, helping with things like those camps, fuck knows what else, and I can't keep up with him. I can't even do that, let alone stop him."

Jennie took a deep breath and thought for a minute. She looked back up at her teacher. "You wanna know something? Coming here was the best thing that ever happened to me. Even with what happened to Julia." Jennie hadn't said her name in months, and she squeaked a little. She swallowed and continued. "With this place, I got somewhere where I know people will help me if I'm in trouble. If I'm sad or angry or depressed, I can't go anywhere without someone asked if I'm alright or trying to feed me. And yeah. Life does suck sometimes. It's not easy being us." She shrugged and looked back into Nathan's eyes. "But that's how it is. Even with all the sucky stuff, there's still so much good. You got your wife and your kid, and you got all of us. I know we ain't much but," she smiled slightly, "We're here. Now. And I know that if you wants us to, we'd help you. You're not alone. That's the best thing about being here. We're not alone." In so many ways.

Nathan squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, his hand still resting on hers. He finally let out a long, ragged sigh. "I thought I was trying to protect you all," he said hoarsely. "Keep you from worrying... maybe I just didn't want anyone who didn't have to know to know. This is my family, after all," he said, his lips twisting bitterly. "The people doing these things. Maybe I was ashamed. So I lock myself in my office and bury myself in this work for Charles... trying to catch up, do something. I go running off to remote places, trying to help mutants, but if there were ten of me I couldn't know everything that needed to be done, let alone do it." He gave another shaky sigh. "I'm so tired. And I've been so scared."

"You know, I find that sometimes you struggle with all your might to keep from drowning, only to find out when you let go you actually float." She gave him a small grin. "If you get my meaning."

"Is this a pep talk?" Nathan actually mustered up a smile, and tried to blink back the tears again. "This sounds oddly like a pep talk, kiddo. Imagine, needing to give one to one of your t-teachers." He stammered on the last word, wondering if he could even call himself that anymore.

"Yeah, it is a little weird." Jennie giggled. Inside, she was just happy she could return the favor. There were times that someone had listened to her when she needed it. It was karma.

Nathan closed his eyes again for a moment, trying to even out his breathing. "Oh, this has been a really shitty week," he said tiredly, squeezing her hand for a moment before letting go. "I promised my shrink I'd take some time off. It's been harder than I thought, already. Not being able to use work as an excuse to keep my mind busy."

"Well," Jennie said. "You could try teaching again. That's good and mindless. I mean, well, not in the brain-numbing way as more of a not-thinking-about-the-bad way. And I've heard Forge praise your name up and down the halls as a teacher. I was kind of hoping to have one of your classes, see what the fuss was about."

"I'm half-afraid to, you know," Nathan said with a wan smile. "I loved it." His voice wobbled again. "I really did. But so much kept happening. You know, I was teaching six classes last spring? Then I broke my back out on a mission, in the middle of term..."

"But how do you know something'll happen this semester? I mean, you can't not do things for fear of bad things happening. Because then life sucks," she said, eloquently.

"I just can't handle feeling like I've disappointed you guys again," Nathan said, looking drained, suddenly. "I hate... not being reliable. And the 'oh, hah, Nathan's gone and mangled himself again' really wears on me. You remember when I supposedly got hit by a truck in September?" He shrugged. "Was trying to get info on those camps I was telling you about. There was no truck." He left it at that.

Jennie nodded. "I figured as much. I mean, we're not dumb, you know?" She sighed. "Well, from what I can tell you seem to have a blatant disregard for personal safety. Not that that's a bad thing. But, if it bugs I won't tease, and I'll get the others to stop." She paused and blew her bangs out of her face. "Do you think you could, I dunno, make yourself more reliable?"

"I don't ever try to get hurt, you know," Nathan said with a flicker of weary amusement. "When I broke my back..." He trailed off, his eyes gone distant again. "I was protecting kids. Funny, how it always comes back to children, one way or the other." His jaw clenched. "Lost a couple of friends that day, too," he said more softly. "More than a couple. God, no wonder I'm getting a complex."

Jennie sighed a little bit. "So, is he going to win? Your uncle?"

Nathan focused on her again. Absurdly, a faint smile tugged at his lips. "Not if I can help it, Jennie," he said, then sighed again. "I'm just having a hell of a time figuring out what to do now." He eyed her for a moment, the smile lingering. "Hence the time off," he said, almost wryly. "Can't plot strategy when you can't think straight."

"Yeah. Well, as long as you don't give up." She patted his arm. "He only wins when you give up. Right?"

"Actually, in this case, he wins if I forget who I am." He rested his hand on hers for a moment again. "I like the person I've become since I've been here," he said more softly. "I'm not ready to lose that."

"I like the guy you are too. Not to many people who arrange for a birthday in a hotel room, y'know?" She smiled widely at that.

Nathan smiled back, remembering the impromptu birthday party. "That was a not-bad evening, wasn't it?" he asked. "Even if the city proceeded to blow up the next morning."

"Hey, I enjoyed it. Well the birthday thing, not the blowing up part." She wagged a finger at him. "See, you can do things right."

"That's actually not the problem. It's that there's so much that needs doing..." Nathan trailed off, then shook his head. "I guess we do our best," he said, trying to put a little firmness back in his tone. He gazed at her for a moment, his expression amused, suddenly. "And not all of us staff types are really this nuts, I promise. A lot goes on that you guys don't know about, yeah, but it's not all bad."

"Yes, well, a lot of us aren't as in the dark as you think. Kind of hard to miss that plane coming out of the basketball court." She chewed on her bottom lip. "You okay?"

Nathan took a deep breath and then let it out again. "Yeah, I think I am," he said in something closer to his normal tone. "Part of me wants to apologize for dumping all that on you..." His tone was wistful suddenly. "But not for part of it. GW... what he was doing with his life these last few months was pretty amazing. I don't... want it to be forgotten."

"It won't be." She nodded. "And I don't mind. I know what it's like. Sometimes you just gotta talk."

"I didn't tell you one thing about him," Nathan said after a moment. "Didn't quite finish the story. He wasn't a mutant. He just... decided, that he'd seen too many of his mutant friends being mistreated, and that knowing about these camps, about all these kids going through the same sort of thing, he couldn't just sit back and do nothing." He gave her a slightly unsteady smile. "Some of my other friends who were working with him were mutants, others weren't. None of that's important to them. Just what they're doing."

"Then that is very important." Jennie said quietly. "You should probably tell some of the other kids about him. They, we, well. It's starting to get very us vs. them around here. And that shouldn't happen."

Nathan stared at her for a moment. "I could, couldn't I?" he asked slowly. Movement caused his attention out of the corner of his eye, and he stared at Catseye's tail, still twitching lazily. She hadn't moved, through the whole conversation. "Talk about him and what he did, at least..."

"Yeah," she said, brightening. "I think a lot of us would want to know about him."

"Then I'll have to figure out how to do it," Nathan said, then smiled, just a little. I think I need to borrow those pictures from Pete...

"I think we'd be down with a guest lecture. Especially if took place during normal school hours," Jennie said, not a little mischievously.

~*~

Praemissi non amissi - Not lost, but gone before.