xp_logs | Choices (Nathan, Ororo)

Ororo stops in to visit Nathan. When she finds out what's going on, she gives him some much-needed reassurance about his place with the school and the team.

Ororo had been down in the infirmary for a good portion of every day since she had returned to the mansion - it provided her a nice break from the more brain-breaking tasks of trying to organize relief and aid efforts from several thousand miles away from the site of the disaster. As usual, she paused before stepping up to Nathan's bedside, giving the man the chance to ignore her if he chose.

His fever was back down and the nausea from the anaesthetic - you couldn't have brain biopsies with a local, after all - had finally faded, but all that meant was that he could think, semi-clearly, about what MacInnis had said to him yesterday. About what Moira had said afterwards, and after the test results had come back...

Reddened gray eyes flickered to Ororo. "I haven't lobotomized myself yet," Nathan said hoarsely. "No worries..."

"That is always good to hear." Taking a seat, Ororo crossed her legs at the ankles, folding her hands in her lap as she looked calmly back at Nathan. "I will not stay long, but I wanted to see how you were. Moira said you came through surgery very strongly."

"Oh, but the fun one's yet to come." Nathan looked away, blinking rapidly. "The lobotomy thing... not a joke, unfortunately. I have to burn out a part of my brain," he said, his voice little more than a rasp. "To kill the live virus. Should be lots of fun. Guess I have to do it with Charles supervising... they're trying to get my fever down as low as they can before they let me try."

Ororo tried to hide her expression of surprise and shock, only halfway succeeding. "Well. Of all the places you could be in this situation, I would say you are in one of the best." She wanted to offer more words of comfort, but really, what did she know?

"We'll see if I manage to finish the job of burning myself out completely." He shouldn't have said it. He really, really shouldn't have said it, because now he was staring the possibility right in the face, again, and he couldn't bear it. What if he did? Moira couldn't guarantee that he wouldn't slip. Wouldn't do more damage than he intended.

"I am sure Charles will not let that happen," Ororo murmured, shaking her head.

"I suppose it wouldn't be so bad, would it? If that was the last thing I did with my TK, holding back that wave... even if I can't remember it." Despite the raspiness of his voice, there was too much emotion creeping in. He had too vivid an imagination, especially when he was feverish. He kept thinking of life without the X-Men, life shrouded in silence, where everything around him was flat, and it was all too plausible.

"There is no doubt that what you did was extremely heroic, Nathan," she said. "But it is the choice you made rather than the power behind it that makes it so. You put yourself at risk for a city of people you will never meet, never know... some who may hate who you are or disagree with what you stand for. And they will live to remember it, even if you cannot. It is something to be very proud of."

Nathan's eyes blurred - not from the concussion, this time - and he raised his good hand to wipe at them. "I'm just.." His voice faltered. "I'm a long way from Mistra, but I don't think I'm ever going to be able to shake being afraid of what happens if I'm not useful. If I can't... do these things, when they need doing... I know that's stupid."

"It is not stupid, Nathan... but it is unnecessary. I am sure there is not a person here that does not wonder and worry what their life would be like if they did not have their powers. It is a part of who we are... but it is not all of us." Ororo shifted her chair so that she could sit a bit closer to the bed, peering into his eyes. "And I know that as long as you are able, you will be a useful, indispensable part of the team, and of the school. Do not think that will change even if your abilities do."

He took a shaky breath, congested lungs rattling as he did, and tried, mostly in vain, to smile. "I'm sure... there are probably lots of people who think that I'm, that I wear leathers b-because I want to redeem myself. Prove that I'm not what I was... something like that..." He swallowed. It hurt, his throat was so raw from coughing. "It's not. I do it... I do it because it feels right, Ororo. Because it is right. I can do it... and then come home, to Moira and Rachel, and know that other people are going to be able to go home to their families because of us... that the world's better because of us. And everything feels in balance." And how much of that did he have in his life?

"And that is a good reason to do it. Nathan," Ororo said, tipping her head to one side, "you do not need to fear for your place here. No matter what becomes of you, you will always have a place here, and you will always be able to make the world better through your work. You bring so much to the school and the team... we would be insane to even consider letting you leave."

The quiet certainty in her voice was almost as reassuring as the words themselves. Nathan squeezed his eyes shut, taking another unsteady breath. "I guess I'm just scared," he said, willing himself to believe her. "This is... wild, even by my standards."

"I think it is wild, even by the mansion's standards," she said with a wry smile. "But you have the best chances here, I think, and Charles will not allow you to come to harm."

"Even talking's wearing me out," Nathan said more faintly, his eyes still closed. "So annoying... I hate being sick." He could feel himself drifting off again. Less tense than he had been, though, with what Ororo had said echoing softly in his mind. It wouldn't matter. Whatever happened, it wouldn't change what was important.

A little later, Nathan's all-too-active and more-than-slightly snarky subconscious decides that it's time to add his two cents' worth, yet again. As usual, he has the knack of clarifying things.

His head was clear again. Or more clear, rather. Nathan suspected that fully clear wasn't going to be possible until... until you perform a self-adminstered partial lobotomy, part of his mind jeered, and he shied wearily away from the thought. Not very far, of course. It wasn't like he could get away from it. From the truth.

"And just in case you thought you could..."

He felt the weight settle on the edge of the bed and opened his eyes, peering up dubiously at his 'guest'. "Oh, swell," Nathan croaked. "To what do I owe this honor?"

His doppleganger raised an eyebrow. "Delirium?"

"Oh right." Bizarrely, Nathan caught himself smiling. "This is sick, when seeing you cheers me up." But it did, in a bizarre way. Maybe because it told him that at least part of him wasn't giving up to anxiety or despair. His one-time disassociated personality was many things, and 'dogged' was one of them.

"Oh, now I'm flattered." Cable's eyes flickered up to the monitors. "Your fever's going down again. I suspect very strongly that Moira will be in here urging you to do it while you still have functioning brain cells left."

"... yeah." He'd thought about that, waking up. "I don't want to," he muttered a bit faintly. "What if I do it wrong? Burn myself out totally..." Despite Ororo's reassurance, he'd still been dreaming about that. About never being able to touch Moira or Rachel's minds again. About never being able to be an X-Man again. It bothered him.

Cable shrugged. "Then you do. It's a risk, but what's the alternative? If your fever keeps spiking like it has been, you'll wind up with real brain damage. What would you rather be," he inquired humorlessly, "powerless, or a vegetable?"

"I have to pick one?" Nathan inquired weakly. It was supposed to be a joke. Didn't come out sounding like it, unfortunately. "And you're just as nasty as ever, you know..."

"I'm a chip off the old block. But no," Cable said precisely, "I'm not saying that you have to pick one. I'm saying that you may have to pick one. You can't know all the consequences of this. Not with your powers already so overstrained from helping stop that wave. Moira told you that." He smiled quizzically. "I know. I was there."

Nathan shifted on the bed, wincing. His head was pounding again. "I don't want to be..." He trailed off, rubbing at his eyes with his good hand. Why could there not be just one of things, damn it? Himself included.

"What? A vegetable? Can't blame you there."

"Helpless."

Cable scoffed. "You'd have a functioning brain," he pointed out. "A brain that functions pretty well, multiple concussions aside. You're not a dumb man, Nathan. Your powers aren't your only weapons."

"Point." Nathan stared up at the ceiling above his head. "This just... isn't fair," he muttered feebly.

"No, it's not. It's stupidly unfair. You may have been too sick to jump up off that bed and throttle Mac, but believe me, both you and I were wanting to do that very badly. It's a kick in the teeth, is what it is," Cable said vehemently. "Like getting stabbed in the back from beyond the grave. And there isn't anyone left to stab in return."

"Yeah..." His reply was faint, but not nearly as apathetic as someone other than his own subconscious might have interpreted it. He just couldn't summon up a whole lot of anger over it this morning. Maybe it was having slept on it. Or just a lack of energy thanks to the fever. "Never really helped to stab back, though."

"No, it didn't." Cable leaned a little closer, his expression serious, gray eyes utterly level. "When it comes right down to it, it's all about one question. Do you believe - do you really believe that you're worth more than all the things your powers let you do?"

Nathan closed his eyes, as if doing that would really shut out the question. Hard to quiet your subconscious, even when it wasn't a yappy bastard. There was really only one way to do that.

"... yes."

When he opened his eyes, he was alone in the room.