xp_logs | Nathan and Betsy, Wednesday morning (Reply)

Nathan's minding the coms. Betsy's stewing.

The door slid open behind him, and Nathan looked back over his shoulder, hating the necessity of doing so. He should have been able to sense whoever it was coming from down the hall, damn it. If his telepathy didn't come back soon he was going to go stark raving mad.

He mustered up a faint smile for Betsy as she moved forward into the communications room. "Nothing yet," he said. "Still haven't heard back from some of the search teams, though."

"That's something then," Betsy said, standing behind Nate, placing her hand on his shoulder and giving it a reaffirming squeeze. "Nothing is better than a lot of the grim scenarios I've been replaying in my head. Can you show me which teams have checked in?"

Nathan reached out with his good hand and pulled up the information on the screen next to him. "One and two have moved on to the next places on the list." He adjusted his other arm in the sling, grumbling to himself. "Oh, how I love being a lame-brained cripple. I should be out there with them. Instead of minding the coms and occasionally going down to check and make sure Charles isn't spending twenty-four hours a day in Cerebro."

"You're not a lame cripple," Betsy said, sitting down to his left and making a grim face. "At least not for long and while you're here, you're helping." Betsy studied the positions on the screen. "I wonder if I tried...." Betsy started, shaking her head. The words, Scott, Cerebro, and Kamikaze flashed in her mind all in one go. All leading to very bad things. "Now, I know I'm going natters."

"If you're thinking of Cerebro, remember, you'd have to push Charles out of the way first," Nathan pointed out, surfing idly through newsfeeds. "I don't like the fact that he's having such trouble finding him. That suggests bad things."

"I..." Betsy gritted her teeth, clasping her hands together. Guilt was an all consuming beast. "Let's keep from thinking the worst for now." With a quirk of her eyebrows, she staved off his reaction. "I know. Pot. Meet Kettle." Betsy said with a dark grin. Her eyes shifted briefly from the screen to the side of Nathan's determindedly clasped jaw. "Really, how are you feeling?"

"Not too bad. The concussion symptoms aren't going away with any particular speed, and I figure I have about another two hours here before I get hit by another killer headache." He smiled a bit faintly, not looking at her. "Still no sign of my powers. Last time I met with Charles before this all blew up, he said he thought I was blocking them subconsciously."

"Funny, your body taking a forced leave like that?" Betsy commented idly, trying to hide her grin. "I'm sorry, sorry." She said, waving her hand in front of her face to stave off the giggles. "It's not like I'm laughing at you." Taking in Nate's expression, she snorted, finally finding her inner control after grabbing her nose quickly. "Oh god, I'm no good like this..."

"I forgive you," was Nathan's somewhat dour response. "You're worried. Everyone acts a little crazy when they're worried." He shook his head, switching to another newsfeed. "I swear I'm going to shake Scott when we get him back. Trading himself for Alex like that... dumb thing to do." His mouth twisted a little as he remembered a Certain Incident two years ago and how likely it was that he would have done precisely the same thing for Moira. If he'd been alone at the time.

"I'm more than worried," Betsy interjected with an exhausted sigh. "I'm thinking of doing idiotic things I usually reserve for either you or Remy and right now I don't trust either one of you with it." She got up and ran her hand angrily through her purple locks, painfully pulling at the edges. "I don't want my last conversation with him to be an argument." Betsy sat on the console and kicked over her chair. "Sod it all!"

Nathan raised an eyebrow at her. "Don't beat up on the furniture, Braddock. It didn't do anything to you." She made a face at him, and he arched the other eyebrow before he looked back at his screens. "I hadn't realized you two had argued," he said more quietly. "But let's not be talking about 'last conversations', all right? We don't know that yet."

"It was a private matter, mostly." Betsy said lowly. Her shame on that matter ringing loud and clear. "I said some unkind things that if I was thinking properly would never have even come to mind." She turned toward the screen, as the updates were streaming in. "And you're right, we don't know...." Her eyes squinted at a section of the screen on the top right corner, she pointed it. "What's this over here?"

Nathan leaned over, peering at it. "Fire at a warehouse in Spokane," he said, then gave Betsy something close to a sympathetic look. "Nothing on your list in Spokane. Why don't you pick up your chair and try and relax?"

Betsy scowled as she bent down and picked up the chair from its' tipped position. She sat back in the seat and propped her feet on the edge of the panel. Crossing her arms over her chest, Betsy exhaled noticeably. "I never could manage to relax." Not without help. "So, we wait?"

"We wait." Nathan's gaze was definitely sympathetic. "I never much like this part either. Not that that's any help." He watched the screens for another few minutes before his lips curved in a faint smile. "So. When we get him back, are you going to apologize for these 'unkind things'?"

She gave him a sidelong look before turning away. "Probably not."

Nathan laughed almost soundlessly. "And they call me stubborn."