Nate and Marie, Wednesday morning

[x-traction.livejournal.com]

Nate finds Marie sulking in the gym. She gets a little snappy, especially when he mentions a certain cat. In the end, he reminds her that she doesn’t have to deal with things alone.


Marie had been wandering around the mansion, doing her best to avoid people, ever since her return from Meridian. After a couple near misses with students in the hallways, she decided to go to the gym for a workout. She hoped that getting her body moving would get her mind off the paths it seemed insistent to pursue. But when she entered the gym, she didn’t feel she had the energy to do much of anything. Sitting on the bench, she pulled her legs up and wrapped both arms around them, resting her head on top of her knees and stared at a spot on the far end of the room.

Nathan, walking past the gym on the way to the infirmary for an x-ray - Amelia wanted to check on the progress of his arm - spotted Marie on the weight bench and paused, struck by how distant she seemed. He'd read her post about what had happened in Meridian, of course. He didn't need the telepathy to see that she was still struggling with it... or something.

"Hey," he said, walking into the gym instead of continuing down the hall.

Jumping a little at the sound of his voice, Marie nodded at him and then resumed her staring contest with the wall. Maybe he would just keep going wherever he had been headed and leave her alone.

Nathan sighed. "I will go, if you want me to," he said, stopping about ten feet away. "But you look upset, and I'm a sucker and an interfering old bastard when it comes to upset women."

“Ah don’t know what Ah want,” she said softly. “Ah’m just not having a good…week.” She turned her face to look at Nate. “Ah shoulda just burned that letter and pretended Ah never saw it.”

Nathan sat down on the bench beside her. "Can I ever sympathize with that," he murmured. "Not wanting to know the truth, when you've faced with it. Sometimes the lie is so much more comforting."

“It was happier,” she said, wrapping her arms tighter around herself. “But it was a lie. And Ah still don’t have the truth, or at least not all of it.”

He wondered if she realized that she'd given away that there had been more to what had happened than she'd mentioned in the team post. "What do you want most?" he asked, almost idly. "Right now, I mean."

“Answers,” she said without hesitating. “Straight, honest, no mumbo jumbo answers to my questions.”

Nathan nodded slowly. "I wanted those," he said simply. "About... a year ago, when I first met my father. I wanted to know why what he was saying didn't match what I remembered, so that I'd know what to believe." He gave Marie a sideways look and a sad little smile. "The answer turned out be neither, and so much worse than I ever imagined it could be."

“So what are you trying to tell me? That Ah don’t really want the answers?” She shook her head. “Anything would be better than this doubt. Ah’m sorry it turned out so poorly for you, Ah really am, but would you rather still not know?”

"It's a hard question," Nathan said, his voice subdued. He was staring straight out ahead of them now. "At times... yes. At times, very much no. It really depends on what kind of day I'm having, and whether it's making me feel free, or broken."

“At least you do not feel broken all the time.” She continued looking at him even though he was no longer meeting her gaze. “Which do you feel more often? Free or broken?”

"Now? Free. A year later, Marie. But then," he said, "a year is just a year. And I don't honestly believe the world is cruel enough that your truth will wind up as horrific as mine." He smiled down at her, softly. "Look at it a different way," he suggested. "Not looking for the truth is the same as not fighting. I don't think that sits well with you."

“But Ah don’t know where to look. How can Ah find something when Ah have no clue on earth where it is?” She clenched one hand into a fist and punched the bench. “Damnit, why couldn’t she at least have told me that?”

"There's something you should know about precogs with ambitions of controlling events," Nathan said, thinking of his mother and Askani. "Very often you don't have to worry about finding the next step on the road. They lead you to it."

“Great,” she said bitterly. “Sounds like oh so much fun. Ah just have to be a good little girl and follow the path and Ah’ll get all my answers. What’s the point? Why couldn’t she just tell me? Ah know precogs are dicey about the future, but the past?”

"When I still had my precognition," Nathan said after a moment, sounding troubled, "there were a couple of times, when it got out of control... I could sense other precogs watching. My past was their future, and vice-versa. It's a horrible gift," he said, his voice shaking a little, "and I was never so glad as to find out that mine was gone for good."

“It’s a better gift than some. Try mine. Try being out of control every day of every week of every year,” she snapped. “Ah’m not gonna feel sorry for her because she’s a precog. She sure looked and sounded very sure of what she was doing. Pushed Logan’s buttons just to get him to react. Didn’t answer things she obviously knew the answer too.” As Marie spoke, she rose to her feet, anger and pain flickering in her eyes. “Just enjoyed feeling superior and pushing us on whatever path she deemed fit.”

"I wonder," Nathan said. "If she really feels that way, or if she was just so terrified by what she saw that she was desperate to see the action she thought necessary taken. What did she tell you?" he asked. "About why she sent you that letter. Anything at all?"

“That she’s not supposed to interfere, but she did before and she was again. That we are at a crossroads for what will happen to the world. The usual precog vague warnings about choices and decisions,” Marie said.

"When you make a prediction," Nathan said slowly, "you automatically make it less likely that what you're predicting will actually come to pass. It's the impact on the listener, whether yourself or someone else, that matters. Have you ever heard the phrase Schroedinger's cat?"

Something snapped in Marie as the memory of Irene’s words rose unbidden to the surface of her mind. Bending down so that her face was almost touching Nathan’s, she clenched both of her hands into fists. “What is it about those damn cats that people find so interesting?”

Nathan managed not to fall over backwards off the bench. Thank you, world, like I needed the reminder that I'm next door to helpless these days... "I'm going to assume," Nathan said steadily, "that you'd prefer not to hear about Schroedinger's cat." Why was she... had this Irene... oh, to hell with it. "But the point stands. If you act on a prediction, whether to make it come true or defy it, the future as the precog sees it instantly changes. So what do you think it means, that she gave you that journal?"

Marie slowly drew back and resumed an upright position, but her eyes were cold as she locked her gaze with Nate’s. “By giving it to me she’s changed the future. Changed the likelihood of what will occur.”

Nathan straightened, nodding. "She's given you - or Angie, or us, options. Or trapped us into action. It really depends." He sighed, rubbing at the back of the neck. "None of which answers 'why you'. Why it's your life she's chosen to get involved in."

Deflating at those words, Marie hung her head. “That’s all Ah want to know. Why me again? Why is it my life she seems insistent to interfere with?” Her thoughts drifted to the prophecy…the one Angie had assured her could mean something different.

"The future isn't written in stone, and even if it was, stone can be broken," Nathan said. "Askani used to say that to me. I used to wonder why it was my life she was involved with." He smiled very faintly. "Then I met my family. That's what I meant about the answers maybe waiting for you down the road, Marie. And maybe, the journal is meant to help you know they're coming. Giving that to you... it's an act of more trust than Askani or my mother ever showed for me." There was no rancor in his voice, just a calm statement of the truth.

“Trust? How is it trust?” Marie’s voice was shaking, though it was impossible to tell if it was in sadness or rage. “She couldn’t disappear fast enough once she’d given it to me. If she trusted me, she could have explained things, answered questions.” Told me where Ah came from.

There really have to be something else going on here. Something very personal. "I think there's one thing you can probably be sure of," Nathan said. "You'll see her again. This isn't an ending here, Marie. It's just the beginning." He smiled at her helplessly. "I'm not helpful, I know," he said, getting up and moving towards her. "But you're not going through this alone. That's something."

Marie was surprised at the hope that rose in her chest at the thought of seeing Irene again. It was entwined with anger and many other feelings as well, but there was the definite thread of hope amongst the emotions. “Ah do not think Ah could face this alone,” she said quietly.

"Then it's a good thing you don't have to." He laid his good hand somewhat tentatively on her shoulder.

She was grateful for the contact and smiled hesitantly at Nathan. “Ah think Ah knew that deep down, but it is good to have the reminder.”

"We all need reminding sometimes. Especially when the situation gets as crazy as this." He waggled an eyebrow at her, mustering up a wry smile. "Precognition is hard on the sanity." Before she could respond, he laughed softly. "And I don't mean just for the precogs." He kept his hand on her shoulder, nudging her slightly towards the door. "Come on. I could use some company while Amelia x-rays my arm, and I get the sense that you've spent a little too much time alone with your own thoughts since you got back."