Wednesday afternoon: Nathan, Lorna

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After seeing this, Lorna isn't happy with Nathan. Talking to him? Doesn't actually make her happier. She calls him names, insults him and finally hangs up on him. It's how she shows she cares. Really.





She'd broken her phone so she had to use a different one. Were it possible for inanimate objects to have fear, this one would doubtless have been quaking in its circuits. Getting to her target took some time but layers of protective bureaucracy didn't do a damn thing for her temper and by the time her call was finally picked up, her voice had crystalized into a smooth, polite 'fuck you'. "I hate you."

Nathan blinked, then gestured at the clerk that he was fine, and really, the man could go back to what he'd been doing. "Hello, Lorna," he said, and amazingly his voice came out perfectly steady.

"Five days. Five days and this is the first time you've felt like even mentioning someone other than your darling Domino by name. Good to know that she's so much more important to you than the rest of your employees." That wasn't the issue. Lorna knew it wasn't the issue but it was a good starting place.

"If I'd mentioned Domino or anyone else by name anywhere you could hear or read it," Nathan said, his voice just as steady, "that would sound a little less like bullshit. And you can be as angry at me over not having called to tell you about Ian as you want, but Ani asked me not to. Because he was the only one we could be absolutely sure would be okay, and she didn't think he'd have wanted to worry you."

She nearly hung up on him. Nearly and the connection went fuzzy for a moment before she controlled herself. "That is not the kind of thing that you keep to yourself. Do you think there is any less worry and fear in not knowing what's going on at all? That I was just accepting that no news was good news?" Her silky tone broke and sharpened. "You arrogant asshole!"

Nathan managed not to grind his teeth. "Then why didn't you call, if you weren't accepting that no news was good news?" he asked. "I wouldn't have lied to you if you had, Lorna."

"Because I assumed that you would act like a human being and call me in person and not just toss off a casual reference in a three line post like my friend was a kitten coming home from the vet!" There was more but the static got very bad just then.

He just did not have the energy to fight with her. She wasn't entirely wrong, but she also could have called. "Fine, I'm a miserable fucking excuse for a human being," he said flatly. "So do you want to know how he is, or would you rather keep yelling at me?"

Lorna ground her teeth, "How is he?"

"Healed enough to walk, eat, and manage bitter conversation. He's sore, and utterly exhausted - his healing factor's overstrained, but he'll be fine with a couple of weeks of solid rest and relaxation. Which Ani will make sure he gets."

Lorna closed her eyes and sagged against the wall, remembering the memorial service. Only a week then but the hole in Ian's chest had been closed and all but healed. How much worse must this have been? How close had she come to losing her friend, the man she hadn't failed on Youra. How bad did you have to hurt someone with a healing factor for it to take weeks to recover? "Oh."

"He's in bad shape emotionally. He was the only one to survive out of everyone in the downstairs conference room," Nathan said tightly. "And you know Ian's attitude towards shrinks, so it's not like he's particularly resolved any of his last load of survivor's guilt."

Very bad. Of course. "Stubborn about it. Like someone else I know." Nolan had been his protege and they'd failed him. What must now be going through Ian's head losing more people? "Tell him I called, will you? And remind him that it's been six weeks since I last got my two word email."

"I'm not surprised he's been a bad correspondent. He's been going a little nuts about the baby. You should see the nursery," Nathan said, his voice tight again. "He's as bad as I was. Twice as many stencils on the walls."

"He's always been a bad correspondent. That's nothing new." Lorna shook her head. "Why on earth do people think stencils are a good decorating decision? They never are."

"They're ferals. They like bright colors and shiny things." Nathan's voice was hoarse. "It's at least color-coordinated. Just very bright."

Lorna bit her lip, "Nathan...have you actually taken any time at all? Or are you holding off until everything is dealt with?"

The question startled him. Maybe it shouldn't have, but it did. He had gotten into the groove of dealing with it all, these last few days, and so no one had been asking those questions of him. "They need me," he said finally, rubbing at his eyes with his free hand. The ex-Mistra operatives needed him, and the Pack needed him and GW, but GW wasn't there, so everything they would have done together in a situation like this Nathan now needed to do on his own. "But we're getting things under control. I can slow down, soon..."

"Idiot," she said flatly. "You push and push and push and then you break and you're down and out for longer than you would have been if you'd just done this in a sane way in the first place and taken care of yourself. You sound like you're holding the world alone. Stop doing that. You're not the only one in the world who can do your job."

"I don't break as easy as I used to, Lorna. And this..." He smiled a bit awkwardly. "This is too important. I was with Vasily for a bit this afternoon..." Lorna didn't know Vasily at all, really, but she'd met him a couple of times. "They had to amputate his leg," Nathan went on, his voice somehow remaining steady, "and yet he kept trying to talk to me about how he made sure that all of Elpis's data was backed up off-site, and how I should go about retrieving it... I kept telling him to relax and we'll handle it all, but that's what he kept saying. 'This is too important.' Ian... Ian tried to steal files to read in bed, when he got home today..."

"Right, so of course the proper thing to do is be a bad example for these nutcases. You're an inspiration to them, you freaking moron. How about setting a good example and showing them that they don't have to keep working when they're flat on their backs?" She made a scornful noise, "That level of dedication is noble, it's heroic, it's downright
phenomenal. It's also what makes people burn out and gets them an early grave. They and you do not need to be making that sacrifice right now. And it's irresponsible of you to let yourself and them do it."

"I'm not letting them do it, don't worry. And I'm eating and sleeping, so don't kvetch at me," Nathan said irritably. She just didn't get it, he thought, not entirely rationally. "I also was not blown up on Friday, so if I can make sure that everything's done, they won't be burying themselves in work, will they? And it is almost done. Seriously, we've got a few more phone calls to make once time zones synch up, and then all that's left to do is for them to recuperate and to keep scaring off the press."

If he'd been there she'd have bounced something off his head. "When the timezones sync up, hmm? Good then it's time for a break. Leave your desk right now. Phone calls sound like something entirely within the scope of things that other people can do so, actually, leave the office entirely. I'll bet they can even book you a flight home."

"I'm not leaving with four of my friends still in the hospital," Nathan growled. "I've been talking to the doctors, and to a private nursing-care provider, and they think we can get them all back here by the beginning of the week, which would be marvelous, especially for Isabel and Chris who are, let's just say, not reacting well to the nice white-walled hospital rooms."

"Or you could stencil brightly colored monkeys on the walls." She didn't particularly care that he was getting angry at her. "But again, I'm not hearing you say anything that couldn't be done by someone who wasn't in the middle of what should be a time for grieving and coping."

"Work now! Coping later!" he snapped at her - or tried to, because he got maybe the first word out before he started coughing and the pain in his chest became a little more pressing than growling at Lorna. He was actually seeing the beginning of stars before he finally re-discovered his voice. At that point, the anger had slipped away, somewhere. "We're almost done," he wheezed. "I can't... I can't fix this, but I can make sure they don't have anything to worry about, when they get home. I can't just sit back and expect someone else to pick up the pieces."

Lorna was silent for a long moment then spoke quickly, "I'm calling your secretary. Try to get to her before me and I'll call Moira instead. I'm not speaking to you again until you grow a brain to go along with that outsized martyr complex." She hung up on him.

Had she just... she DID. Nathan tried very hard not to grind his teeth. It wasn't a successful effort. He contented himself with slamming down the phone and glaring at the clerk who appeared in the doorway, looking inquisitive and wary.

"Small difference of opinions," he muttered, his voice gravelly, and hauled himself up out of the chair.