xp_logs | The Gates: Stories from the Streets

Nathan and Rahne take stock of an afternoon's work. It's not entirely clear who's getting the reassurance and who's giving it. Maybe they're taking turns.

"You realize," Nathan said, sinking down in the chair beside Rahne's as she watched the footage they'd taken that afternoon replaying on the camera's tiny screen, "that he talked as much as he did because he liked the way you smiled at him." He grinned a bit sheepishly as Rahne looked up at him. "Yes, I peeked."

They had run into two elderly gentlemen out on the streets today, both of them well into their eighties. What they'd been doing sitting at a sidewalk cafe when the cafe was closed, Nathan wasn't sure, apart from the fact that it was part of their routine and they were sticking to what little of it they could, stubborn in the face of the upheaval in their lives.

One of the old men had just stared out sadly at his surroundings. The other had possessed a fairly good grip on English, and had been willing to tell Rahne all about the food shortages and power outages, and how sad and unfortunate it was that the government was making such a fuss about all of this, "all because of these angry youngsters".

"He was a lot of help." Rahne looked down at the screen again. "Seemed like he wanted someone to tell it to."

"I imagine he probably did." Nathan shook his head a little. "He was surprised that we cared. Surprised that there was anyone from 'outside' in Smichov trying to find out what was going on. That worries me." He sighed. "Sometimes when people give up hope they... sit at a closed sidewalk cafe. Other times they decide they have nothing left to lose."

"And it's hard enough to wait for other people to do something as it is," Rahne murmured.

Nathan gave her a measuring look. "Getting frustrated?"

Rahne blinked and looked up at him a bit guiltily. "Well, aye, though I wasna thinking of me."

"Yeah, but I was betting it held true for you, too." Nathan stared down at the tiny screen for a moment. "Me too," he confessed more softly.

"I keep having to remind myself that this... at least has a chance to do more good than anything I could do on my own."

"Small steps, huh?" As the footage came to its end, he reached out and took the camcorder from her, closing it. The look on his face was thoughtful, vaguely troubled. "We'll need to be even more careful now," he said after a moment. "I really don't trust that Mystique's not got something awful up her sleeve."

Rahne sighed. "I wouldna trust her not to have something awful up her sleeve in a good situation, never mind... this."

"All of the possibilities are kind of dire, aren't they?" His smile didn't have much in the way of humor about it. "Well, let's not worry about the what-ifs just yet. At least not until the Professor's done what he can." Although Ororo hadn't sounded optimistic at all.

"I'm trying not to."

Get her thinking about something else. That was the ticket. "So what do you think, so far?" Nathan asked deliberately. "Of the evidence we've put together, I mean."

Rahne glanced at the camcorder in his hand, then laced her fingertips together and looked at those instead. "'Tis useful," she said slowly. "People have been... very helpful. We've been able to get more than we were counting on -- fewer refusals, more people willing. Even if we canna get all of it out," she added with the shadow of a smile. "But whether the people who need to listen, will listen...." She trailed off and shook her head. "Well. I know 'twas something already, being let in. I suppose pessimism's contagious."

"It seems like a fragile sort of hope, doesn't it? Secondhand images and voices... but they're very compelling voices," Nathan said more quietly. "If we do nothing else, taking them out of here for the rest of the world to hear has to count for something." He offered Rahne a slight, tired smile. "We have to try and rise above the pessimism. We're not going to be the witnesses we need to be if we let the situation drag us down into it, too."

She looked down again without smiling back. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Nathan laughed softly, putting an arm around her shoulders in a quick half-hug. "I'm a great big hypocrite."

Rahne looked up again then -- and hugged back fiercely. "Och... there's a difference between hypocrisy, and knowing better than we can do yet. I needed to hear it." Some of the spirit was back in her eyes. "I'm only moping," she said, "not giving up."