xp_logs | Nathan and Angelo, Wednesday night in Afghanistan (Reply)

At the hotel, Angelo checks in on Nathan and finds him sound asleep at his laptop. He's in the process of pulling the blinds when the furniture in the room starts to move. And no, it's not an earthquake.

You knew they'd been working too late - or maybe just that Nathan wasn't 100% well yet - when Nathan fell asleep on his keyboard. Angelo shifted him over as gently as possible, powering down the laptop and closing its screen.

Nathan didn't so much as twitch when Angelo touched him, as clear a sign as anything else that his telepathy wasn't working. A month ago, he would have been awake as soon as Angelo walked into the room - hyper-alert, even unconscious, to the presence of someone else, even someone he trusted.

It was worrying, that, but Angelo had got used to it. It wasn't like he didn't know the telepathy was gone, after all. He finished up with the laptop and moved to the window to close the shade.

The shade, when he touched it, was vibrating. Just very slightly, but enough to notice. A moment later, the furniture started doing it, too. The melting icecubes in the glass of water sitting beside the laptop tinkled softly.

He looked round sharply, focusing on the furniture. A glance at Nathan showed him the older man was still sound asleep.

The rattling grew slightly more pronounced. It was very obviously not an earthquake - the movement was all wrong, and the noises from the street outside hadn't changed at all, suggesting that no one out there was feeling anything. The faded curtains at the window ruffled in a 'breeze' that came from inside the room, not from outside.

And that was just final confirmation of what he'd already known - Nathan was causing this, which meant... "Nate! Wake up!"

Someone was shouting at him. Nathan sat bolt upright, blinking - and all the movement in the room stopped, all at once. "What?" he asked, disoriented. It took him a moment to realize that it was Angelo standing there looking a little grayer than usual.

"...your powers are comin' back. Were you dreamin'?"

"My... what?" Nathan gazed at him incredulously, then yawned and rubbed his eyes, rather spoiling the 'What the hell are you on?' expression. "You've got to be kidding me. Define 'coming back'?" He looked away, trying to concentrate. Nothing. Still quiet in his head, and the world looked just as flat and dull as it had when he'd... dozed off at the keyboard, hah.

"The furniture was shakin'", Angelo told him firmly. "An' the drapes. An' the ice cubes in your glass, I heard them." He sat down, watching Nathan carefully.

"... huh." Nathan leaned back in the chair, his expression shifting to 'startled and slightly alarmed'. "I... don't feel any different." He stared down at the table, then tapped it, experimentally.

"Maybe it's just startin' to come back, then, slowly. It all stopped when you woke up."

"I suppose it's possible." Nathan wasn't sure he wanted to get his hopes up, though, and the grimace the thought provoked was a little on the fearsome side. He noticed the way Angelo was looking at him, and shook his head, mustering a faint smile instead. "I'm okay. Really. Did I, uh, do any damage?"

Angelo shook his head hastily. "Nah, no harm done. 's why I woke you up - didn't want anythin' to start flyin', if you were havin' a nightmare or whatever."

Nathan rubbed at the back of his neck, trying to think. "I don't think I was having a nightmare... I'm not sure." He shook his head again, quizzically, and got up, going over to the window and peering out at the street, still active even at this time of night. "This is a complication we don't need in Afghanistan, of all places..." he said, almost to himself.

"As long as it's only when you're sleepin', though..." Angelo ventured, trying for hopeful. "We can wake you up if it starts."

"I suppose," Nathan said heavily, then looked around at Angelo with a crooked grin. "I'm the most inconsistent person in the world, aren't I? All that bitching and complaining about my powers being broken..."

Angelo shrugged. "Guess I can see how there could be better times for them to start comin' back. Just glad mine don't break."

Nathan's reply to that was a soft snort, and he looked back out at the street. "Unconscious TK... not a good thing," he said, and there was definitely a subdued undertone of fretting to his voice. "I should call Moira."

"Right now?" He was already moving to get up, glancing at the door.

"We're... eight and a half hours ahead," Nathan said, calculating time zones. "Yeah. I'll call her now - she should be in the lab at this time of day, back in Westchester." He turned back towards the table, where the satellite phone was sitting, but paused, giving Angelo another rueful smile. "Thanks. I don't fancy having to explain a wrecked hotel room." He suspected he wasn't going back to sleep at this point, though.

He got a crooked grin in return. "Welcome. Want me to tell the others anythin'? Just Bobby an' Rahne?"

"Let's wait and see what Moira says. I can give them a heads-up in the morning. No point in waking them up now." Nathan lifted the phone, then gave him another dubious look. "And you, get some sleep. We've got a long drive ahead of us in the morning."

"Yes, boss."