xp_logs | Shadow King: Surfacing

Rahne gets a surprise.

Rahne rubbed her eyes and set aside her textbook, lifting her laptop and Bible and sliding it in underneath. A few days ago, she had finally given in and asked some of the other assistants to cover her time in the Elpis office -- she was still vaguely surprised she hadn't got more snark from John or Monet -- but there was only so much to be done in the infirmary and medlab that she could actually do.

So she had started bringing reading material, homework, Elpis work. At the moment, the letters were starting to blur, and her silent prayers had stopped actually having coherent words in them some time ago. Angelo would probably yell at her (quietly) and then do the same thing. Except at least she knew when she had last eaten.

The man on the bed had been still and utterly quiet the whole time she'd been in there. As she put her textbook aside, however, the shallow rise and fall of his chest became something deeper, as if he was a drowning man at last reaching the surface and gasping for air. Despite the sedatives in his system, Nathan's eyes opened, and he stared up at the ceiling for a moment before he realized that he was sensing someone. Someone sitting beside the bed, familiar patterns of thought glowing softly.

"Rahne?"

She looked up quickly. He wasn't expected to be awake, but they'd been having a terrible time balancing sedative doses that would actually work without being damaging. "Nathan. How are ye feeling?"

Calm was probably important here. From what she knew, including what Jack had relayed, about the nature of Nathan's personal break with reality, she doubted she was in any danger herself as long as he recognized her -- and didn't think she was someone else in disguise --but the building might be, if he thought one of the young people he cared about was being kept here. Frankly, she was more worried about that.

Nathan tried to raise a hand to rub his eyes, but found that he couldn't. He frowned, gave the restraint a slight tug. It was doing its job very well, unfortunately. Just like the one on the other hand. "What did I do that you've got me tied down?" he muttered, blinking. His vision was mostly clear.

Well, that was exceptionally calm. Rahne felt a little leap of hope in her chest. "A lot of structural damage," she said wryly. "Not, I'll grant, that tying your arms down would exactly help with that, but you've... not been recognizing people, and thinking they were threats. Do ye remember going in after something that attacked Mr. Marko?"

Nathan's frown deepened. "Yes," he muttered. "Not very clearly..." There was a lot that wasn't clear, and something told him that wasn't such a bad thing. Trying to focus too hard on the jumble made his heartrate jump and his throat go dry - dryer, rather. His eyes moved back and forth, trying to get a look at the walls, to see if they were staying put. "Something... pretty bad happened, didn't it?" His throat felt tight. "I think I've been in here for a while?"

"Aye." Rahne sat still, not tense but not doing anything that would startle. He seemed to be aware, but jittery; it wasn't as if reality had been all that reassuring for the past week or so. "None of you who helped with that have been quite... well, since. Professor Xavier has not been conscious, Dr. Grey thinks she's twelve, Mr. Haller is one of his other selves and probably closer to normal than any of the rest of you, and I personally think Ms. Braddock should have been restrained before you were."

"Oh." Nathan's voice sounded a bit hollow, and he closed his eyes against the stinging feeling. There was some part of him that didn't like the idea of breaking down in front of Rahne. His voice wobbled audibly as he went on, however. "Well. Guess I should've guessed that. There is definitely a sense that something has not been right in my head... did I hurt anyone?"

"No." The answer was quick and gentle. "No, everybody else is fine. Some bruises if you want to get picky, but they're pretty much healed. Nothing worse than some of your training sessions." Rougher training sessions, but it was within parameters, so to speak. "Can I say I'm very glad to have you lucid again though? --And do ye want anything? I could bring some water." She could bring Moira, too, and Moira would be able to authorize letting him up -- but she didn't like to leave him alone immediately, and the water was right in the same room.

"... water would be good. I feel like I've been in the desert for a month." His eyes really were stinging. Burning, almost, and he squeezed them more tightly shut for a moment, wrestling desperately for composure. "That's me being half-assedly poetic," he muttered, "not crazy."

"I figured." Rahne went smoothly to get the water, bringing it back over with a straw. "Perfectly reasonable metaphor. I'm going to adjust the bed so you can sit up." From the voice, he was on the verge of crying and very clearly didn't want to, and she wasn't quite sure what to do about it other than act as normal as possible given the circumstances, and of course get him the water. Hugging was probably out -- although she might think about asking.

The water helped. So did the moment or three of not having to do anything but focus on taking a sip. Still blinking a bit rapidly, he focused on her as she sat back down. "My shields feel very strange," he said, his voice still hoarse. "Like tissue paper. I don't think they've been this bad for a long time."

Rahne took a moment first to pay attention to her own thoughts and try to make sure she was tucking them politely inside her own head instead of "shouting" around... telepaths.... She looked up at him in mild shock. "Wait, your telepathy's back?"

"Seems to be." He couldn't bring himself to be pleased, that his mind was working correctly at least on that level. The ebb and flow of the psychic atmosphere around him wasn't soothing at all. Made him feel a little sick, to be honest. "It was gone, I'm gathering?"

"Ah, yes, since Wednesday night. ...Over a week. All of you, the ones who were conscious anyway...." Definitely something to ask about. She tapped the side of her head. "I hope I'm not being too loud, sorry."

He stared at her, paler than he had been a moment before. His voice was more level than might have been expected as he spoke, however. "A week. Huh. I figured a while..." He looked away for a moment, eyes going distant. "Rachel," he said slowly. "Where is she?"

"Muir, the whole time. She's fine. Nobody wanted to bring any more telepaths to the school, under the circumstances, but she's not been affected." She paused. "Moira's here. I can go get her, but I didna want to race out of the room all of the sudden. Seemed rude."

Rachel was okay. Rachel's okay. Nathan squeezed his eyes shut again, a soft, choked gasp escaping. "I think.... I thought there was something wrong. That she was in danger." But she was safe, on the island. And Moira was here. He opened his eyes, ignoring the way the room blurred.

Rahne was still there, red hair and familiar face steady and unchanging. "I think I'm okay." He wasn't, but he was here, and that seemed to be an improvement. "I need... can you just go to the door and call? I don't want to be alone."

"Of course." If Moira wasn't in easy earshot, there was always the phone. On reflection, she could have done that anyway. As she stood up again, she added, "If you don't mind it, I'll owe ye a hug whenever you're feeling up for it."

His smile was a bit uncertain, and the brief laugh that escaped him was faint and rather broken-sounding, but there was a touch of real humor behind it. "Deal," he muttered, and turned his head, letting the slightly scratchy texture of the pillowcase - totally prosaic, totally real - remind him that he was here.

It was a start.