Nathan and Ororo, Wednesday afternoon

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Nathan comes across Ororo taking out her frustrations on the punching bag. Turns out that she could use someone to talk to, rather badly. There's a price to be paid when you're working so hard to hold it together for the sake of your friends who can't.


One, two, three... the punches landed in quick succession on the gently-swinging bag as Ororo grit her teeth. Every other aspect of her life was calm, controlled, but here she could at least rid herself of some of the pent-up frustrations and worries. The only problem was that the bag couldn't speak, and 'Ro desperately needed someone to talk to. Scott was in no state to listen, and Jean... well, she was the root of most of the problems, after all. So she had to settle for physical exertion instead of verbal; at least it was better than nothing.

Nathan emerged from the locker room and saw her, stopping for a moment as he continued to towel his hair dry. He'd been in the pool, doing laps, and coming yet again to the rather disappointing conclusion that he did not have the fitness level he'd had before breaking his back and after a year, probably wasn't getting that back. The sight of Ororo's tight-lipped expression drew him immediately out of his own mild self-pity and contemplation of his sore back.

"Hey, let me hold that for you," he offered quietly, leaving the towel around his neck and coming around to do just that.

Ororo gave the bag one last punch before pausing and stepping back. "Nathan, thank you," she said, raising one hand to pull the band out of her hair. Enough of her ponytail had gotten loose that it was probably a good idea to retie it altogether. "I must admit, I didn't see you there."

"Well, you know me. Quietest six and a half foot tall man around," he quipped very lightly, holding the bag securely for her as she started to punch again. "I don't often see you down here doing this, I've got to admit."

Ororo grunted a not-so-eloquent response, jabbing a particularly hard right at the bag. "Perhaps I should come more often... my hand-to-hand technique is not as good as it once was."

"I'm a terrible one to talk. Mine's never recovered from Youra." The excessive twitchiness had gone away, but he was a little slow, and a little awkward, and probably always would be. "Plus I spend too much time behind a desk these days."

"We all do," Ororo replied, shaking her head. "Because we must. But then we must also push ourselves harder the rest of the time..."

"Balancing is the tough thing," Nathan said quietly. "I know. Trying to juggle teaching again has almost been too much for me." He gave her a slight smile. "I may have missed it. Just a little."

Ororo returned his smile briefly before pivoting and aiming a kick at the bag. She had worked up a good sweat by now, the initial tenseness replaced by a pounding in her veins. "It is worth it," she agreed, knowing that she would never want to give up any aspect of her life at Xavier's.

He watched her for a long moment as she continued to work out her frustrations. "How are you doing?" he asked, a bit hesitantly. He and Ororo had never been particularly close, although he respected her and in fact rather liked her. But this was one of his team leaders and she was clearly wrestling with something, and the urge to do something was nagging at him very strongly. He could listen, at the very least.

"I haven't had much sleep," Ororo admitted, the hesitation only split-second before she decided to speak. "I should not even be here... there is much to be done still."

Nathan bit his lip, studying her. "You can't be running yourself ragged, you know," he said. "I know you and Alison and Scott divide the load quite effectively and have for a while now, but still... you take Scott out of that circle and I imagine things are a little... crushing, at times."

"We always make it fit," Ororo replied with a shake of her head. "We will still manage, and I do not mind." She drew in a deep breath, feeling the pleasant ache in her muscles that came with honest exercise. "I am only afraid of missing things... having them slip past me. I thought that I did not need to worry about that, but now..."

Nathan shook his head a little, still watching her. "It slipped past all of us," he said a bit heavily. "Please don't blame yourself. I think Scott's probably doing enough of that for the whole house."

"I am trying. But it makes me wonder about all the other things I must be missing. I am no longer a student, no longer just an X-Man... I am even further removed from everything." 'Ro frowned, staring straight ahead at the punching bag. "I am worried that I am missing important things, and I will not know I have until it is too late."

"When I was field leader at Mistra," Nathan said, "I would get myself into these blind panic-states, about having to keep on top of everything. Came from needing to protect my people against the people in charge," he said with a soft sigh. "Needless to say, I'm still working on the control issues. Even though, thank fuck, I'm not in a leadership role here."

"You are not exactly helping," Ororo said dryly, though she was smiling.

Nathan tilted his head at her, his returning smile wry. "I'm generally not helpful. It was a remarkably liberating moment when I figured out I didn't always have to be." He shifted his grip on the bag as she launched another flurry of punches. "But you know what a bad road that is to walk down. You know, because you watched Scott do it."

"I will not repeat that," she replied, shaking her head. Because I know better. Because I choose not to. Because I am alone. "And Scott will be better. In time." The unspoken words were swallowed by the sound of fists on leather. 'I hope'.

"I don't doubt it," Nathan said, rocked backwards a little by the force of Ororo's punches. "On both counts. Anyone with powers like yours who has them under control definitely has the whole iron will thing going." He offered her another smile.

Her punches were still hard, but they had lost most of their desperation by now. "I think I had a different challenge than most when I came here," she confided, her eyes flicking to his face. "I had all the opportunity I needed before I came to learn how to control my powers. It was only my emotions that needed controlling. At least now it is only a punching bag that absorbs my frustrations."

"It's a healthy way of coping, really," Nathan quipped lightly. "Beating up on a big bag of sand, rather than someone else." He bit his lip, watching her. "There's been a lot of focus on Scott's wife leaving him," he said. "Rightfully so, I mean. But you and she were so close. I suspect you've been focusing on being there for Scott, haven't you?"

"He needs someone," 'Ro said, perhaps a bit defensively. She paused then, looking a bit chagrined. "I am sorry. Yes, Jean is... was... my friend." Is she still? After what she's done? She doesn't seem to want to be anymore. "I miss her," she added simply, flexing her fingers back into fists.

"I miss her too. She was teaching me how to be diplomatic, you know. How to talk to bureaucrats..." Nathan shrugged, just a little. "I miss her for a lot of other reasons, of course. I think we all do. None of this makes any sense, does it?"

"No. I can find no reason for any of this. Nothing I have ever known about her would ever predict what she has done," Ororo said, shaking her head. She hit the bag again, a new set of worries and frustrations welling up to take the place of the old ones.

"One of the downsides of the fact that we're all so close, I think," Nathan said. "When something blows up, the shrapnel hits everything. Team, school, friendships..."

"We will weather this." Ororo pursed her lips, finally slowing her punches.

Nathan's smile, this time, was wider, very slightly mischievous. "Pun intended?"

Ororo blinked, her brow furrowing for a moment before her expression cleared and she smirked. "I should be more careful, shouldn't I?"

"I couldn't help myself." He tilted his head at her in the other direction, this time. "Once you're finished," he said quietly, easily, "want to get some coffee? I wouldn't mind talking about what I might teach in the fall term." He got the sense that routine did help Ororo, at times like this. And if the conversation strayed beyond teaching choices... so much the better.

"Yes, of course. Let me shower, and then I will stop by my office to gather my things..." Already he could tell she was mentally reviewing her lists, going through the assembled
folders in her mind. The tension hadn't entirely left her, but she moved more easily as she headed towards women's locker room. "I will meet you in fifteen. And Nathan? Thank you."

"Anytime, Ororo. I'll get the coffeemaker started," Nathan said, smiling as he turned towards the gym door. Sometimes he could still manage to say the right things, he reflected - or at least know when it was time to listen. That was more than a little reassuring.