Nathan and Jean-Paul, Sunday morning
Feb. 8th, 2009 04:28 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsNathan decides he's had enough of the mansion and makes a run for the Adirondacks. Jean-Paul follows, and doesn't actually get bounced all the way back to Westchester for his pains.
It hadn't been too hard to sneak out past Angelo. He'd had to telepathically nudge him more deeply asleep a couple of times; Joyita had nearly blown the whole thing when she'd gotten excited at the sight of him coming downstairs with his bag. But he'd gotten her settled back down, and made sure Angelo stayed asleep - and left a note, because he wasn't that far gone that he wanted Angelo to panic. Especially given that the boy was likely to call out the troops if he woke up and found no trace of where he'd gone.
He might anyway. But he'd cross that bridge when he came to it. And he had taken his phone, which was about as responsible as he was prepared to be right now. He would probably even answer it if it rang.
There wasn't as much gas in the SUV as he'd thought; the warning light went on while he was still better than two hours from Keene Valley. According to the sign he'd just passed, there was a service station about ten minutes down the road. It would have to do, Nathan thought, eyeing the gas gauge for a moment before he turned his attention back to the road. It had started to snow, if lightly, and while the sun had fully risen at this point, it was a very gray day.
He wasn't complaining. He felt calmer than he had yesterday; he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not, but he'd woken up knowing exactly what he wanted to do. Where he wanted to go. It was something he would have done weeks ago, if he'd been physically capable of it.
The service station was all but deserted, and Nathan shivered as he stepped out to pump his gas and felt the bite of the wind almost immediately. Ice conditions were good, according to the website he'd checked, but the weather could certainly be better. Then again, it was the Adirondacks in February, and one generally went with the other.
There was a light thump behind him, as if a cat had hopped up onto the hood of the SUV.
"You," a mildly annoyed voice informed him, "are losing your touch. The only reason I did not do this an hour ago was because I did not want to cause a collision."
Jean-Paul was sitting cross-legged on the hood of the car in his jogging togs, slightly wind-ruffled and completely ignoring the stares his arrival had earned from the pump attendant behind the glass.
Nathan froze - then went about pumping gas, very calmly. "I'm losing my touch? What do you think I was trying to do and didn't here, Jean-Paul?" Oddly, he couldn't summon up the self-castigation that really ought to be dictated by forgetting about the person who could quite literally chase him all the way to the Adirondacks.
"Generally, sneaking out in the predawn hours without notice means that one does not want to be pursued, Nathan." Jean-Paul made himself comfortable, reclining against the windshield, legs crossed at the ankle. "So either you are losing your touch, or you were just trying to make this as difficult as possible, in which case, you deserve to be stuck in a car with me for however long anyway."
Nathan almost smiled. "Maybe I thought you needed some exercise," he said, his eyes flickering back to the gas pump briefly. "Did you run all this way with your gear, or do we need to make a stop once we're in town?"
"I am as you see me. Even I can only be so many places at once and I had to choose between grabbing gear or letting the students know that they had another day or so to finish their first paper of the term. Duty won out." The speedster rolled onto his side, chin propped up on his palm. "And for your information, I was flying, not running. So we are going climbing?"
"I guess we are." The pump was set up to take credit cards; Nathan swiped his and then eyed the Canadian currently sprawled on the hood of the car. "You don't need to look quite so much like the cat that ate the canary, you know," he said, almost patiently. "I can feel the smugness coming off you in waves."
"I have every right to be smug," Jean-Paul pointed out. "I am having an excellent morning: I have thwarted your attempts at escape, I do not have to teach morning classes, and I get to go climbing. Oh, and I get you all to myself for at least the rest of the weekend, did I mention that?"
Nathan laughed, under his breath. "What a prize that is," he muttered, then tilted his head at the passenger's side door. "And it serves you right - now you're going to have to put up with crappy rental gear." He should be more bothered by having unanticipated company, but for some reason he wasn't. Maybe it was just that he had never really liked climbing alone.
"If it's that bad, I'll just fly along the rock face and critique you the whole way." He finally dismounted the car. "We're going to have to stop someplace to eat, you know. I had to skip breakfast to chase someone northward."
"I don't want to be too long getting started," Nathan said as they got in. If Jean-Paul was coming with him, he was doing it on his terms. Which meant that they were going to be up the side of a rock face as soon as humanly possibly. "I want to be climbing for a while. I have my eye on the Washbowl. Apparently the ice conditions are good."
"I'll settle for five minutes in a decent health food store." Jean-Paul buckled up. He had mellowed from smug and now just looked pleased that Nate was speaking to him face-to-face again. "How long are we going to be gone, anyway?"
"Ask me tomorrow morning." Nathan's response was quiet, but his voice lacked that bleak, exhausted edge that had only grown more and more noticeable over the last couple of weeks. He was driving carefully enough as he pulled back out onto the highway, but every time he paused for a moment to take in the scenery, the tension in his posture eased another fraction.
---
Jean-Paul stared up at the proposed climb, a sheer wall of ice and rock rising up so far that he had to crane his neck to see the top. The frozen monolith bristled with icicles and practically dared the two comparative gnats at its feet to attempt conquest through the unforgiving climb.
"Nathan. You are out of your mind and I think I may be a little turned on right now."
In response, he got what could only be described as an evil laugh. Nathan was eying the cliff as well, a pleased little smile playing on his lips as he hefted one of the ice axes experimentally. "Nicely technical, I think. I'm not in the mood for something boring today. And there's not even anyone here to be horrified by the fact that we're not using ropes."
Jean-Paul shook his head. "You can go first. If you fall, I want to see you coming."
"You're a little bit paranoid," Nathan said, grabbing his other ice axe and choosing a starting point as he moved towards the bottom of the cliff. He needed to stick to the ice, really; going back and forth between the rock and the ice was not feasible, given that he was in crampons and had an axe in either hand.
He started upwards, a little tentative at first, but then with more confidence. He might not have done this for a while, but it was so familiar, and would always be. Like riding a bike, if bike-riding was the sort of purely physical activity that was better than meditation for emptying your head of thoughts you didn't want. Various aches and pains made themselves known almost immediately - the bullet wounds were only mostly healed, at best - but they were purely physical and almost welcome, in a weird way.
Jean-Paul gave him a decent head-start, then ventured up after him. He didn't have much to say and was far more concerned with keeping an eye on Nathan than quipping. His friend looked determined to say the least, his whole focus thrown into the ascent. Jean-Paul was loathe to break into whatever battle the other man was waging -- at least now it was a fight, not the resigned, lifeless misery that had ground him down over the last few weeks.
It was nearly a half-hour before Nathan paused for a breather. He'd been climbing steadily, maybe even a little too fast given that this wasn't bare rock. He kicked himself a more secure foothold, letting go of one of his axes and flexing that hand, wincing a little at the pain in his shoulder.
"I don't suppose I could convince you that you need a rest?" Jean-Paul hauled himself up onto the ledge beside Nate, already aware of the answer. "This view is magnificent. Worth chasing you down for."
"Not a chance." He was wheezing a little, he realized. Only to be expected; scarred lungs didn't always like full-out exertion in the cold. He flashed Jean-Paul a smile that he knew was a little on the manic side. "I could stay up here forever, you know." He gave a wave around with his free hand. "All this open space, nothing closing in on you. I don't trust buildings anymore."
"I'm afraid it's a bit late in life for us to run off together," was the dry response. "You should have come for me when I was young and beautiful." He grinned as Nate scuffed powdery snow in his direction. "It is good to get away from the list of 'must-be-dones'. Too many familiar things at home, keeping you in the present. It's hard to get a breath."
"It's been hard to breathe at all." Nathan sounded a little more subdued than he had, but the magic worked by hanging off the side of a rock face seemed to be persisting; he didn't tense up, didn't shut down as he might have, back at the mansion. "I needed this." He looked upwards at the stretch of rock and ice left to climb. "I don't think I had any idea how much."
"All the same, I'm glad you let me tag along. It's gorgeous up here." And seeing Nate slowly emerging from the cloud hanging over him was better than any scenery or fresh air.
It hadn't been too hard to sneak out past Angelo. He'd had to telepathically nudge him more deeply asleep a couple of times; Joyita had nearly blown the whole thing when she'd gotten excited at the sight of him coming downstairs with his bag. But he'd gotten her settled back down, and made sure Angelo stayed asleep - and left a note, because he wasn't that far gone that he wanted Angelo to panic. Especially given that the boy was likely to call out the troops if he woke up and found no trace of where he'd gone.
He might anyway. But he'd cross that bridge when he came to it. And he had taken his phone, which was about as responsible as he was prepared to be right now. He would probably even answer it if it rang.
There wasn't as much gas in the SUV as he'd thought; the warning light went on while he was still better than two hours from Keene Valley. According to the sign he'd just passed, there was a service station about ten minutes down the road. It would have to do, Nathan thought, eyeing the gas gauge for a moment before he turned his attention back to the road. It had started to snow, if lightly, and while the sun had fully risen at this point, it was a very gray day.
He wasn't complaining. He felt calmer than he had yesterday; he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not, but he'd woken up knowing exactly what he wanted to do. Where he wanted to go. It was something he would have done weeks ago, if he'd been physically capable of it.
The service station was all but deserted, and Nathan shivered as he stepped out to pump his gas and felt the bite of the wind almost immediately. Ice conditions were good, according to the website he'd checked, but the weather could certainly be better. Then again, it was the Adirondacks in February, and one generally went with the other.
There was a light thump behind him, as if a cat had hopped up onto the hood of the SUV.
"You," a mildly annoyed voice informed him, "are losing your touch. The only reason I did not do this an hour ago was because I did not want to cause a collision."
Jean-Paul was sitting cross-legged on the hood of the car in his jogging togs, slightly wind-ruffled and completely ignoring the stares his arrival had earned from the pump attendant behind the glass.
Nathan froze - then went about pumping gas, very calmly. "I'm losing my touch? What do you think I was trying to do and didn't here, Jean-Paul?" Oddly, he couldn't summon up the self-castigation that really ought to be dictated by forgetting about the person who could quite literally chase him all the way to the Adirondacks.
"Generally, sneaking out in the predawn hours without notice means that one does not want to be pursued, Nathan." Jean-Paul made himself comfortable, reclining against the windshield, legs crossed at the ankle. "So either you are losing your touch, or you were just trying to make this as difficult as possible, in which case, you deserve to be stuck in a car with me for however long anyway."
Nathan almost smiled. "Maybe I thought you needed some exercise," he said, his eyes flickering back to the gas pump briefly. "Did you run all this way with your gear, or do we need to make a stop once we're in town?"
"I am as you see me. Even I can only be so many places at once and I had to choose between grabbing gear or letting the students know that they had another day or so to finish their first paper of the term. Duty won out." The speedster rolled onto his side, chin propped up on his palm. "And for your information, I was flying, not running. So we are going climbing?"
"I guess we are." The pump was set up to take credit cards; Nathan swiped his and then eyed the Canadian currently sprawled on the hood of the car. "You don't need to look quite so much like the cat that ate the canary, you know," he said, almost patiently. "I can feel the smugness coming off you in waves."
"I have every right to be smug," Jean-Paul pointed out. "I am having an excellent morning: I have thwarted your attempts at escape, I do not have to teach morning classes, and I get to go climbing. Oh, and I get you all to myself for at least the rest of the weekend, did I mention that?"
Nathan laughed, under his breath. "What a prize that is," he muttered, then tilted his head at the passenger's side door. "And it serves you right - now you're going to have to put up with crappy rental gear." He should be more bothered by having unanticipated company, but for some reason he wasn't. Maybe it was just that he had never really liked climbing alone.
"If it's that bad, I'll just fly along the rock face and critique you the whole way." He finally dismounted the car. "We're going to have to stop someplace to eat, you know. I had to skip breakfast to chase someone northward."
"I don't want to be too long getting started," Nathan said as they got in. If Jean-Paul was coming with him, he was doing it on his terms. Which meant that they were going to be up the side of a rock face as soon as humanly possibly. "I want to be climbing for a while. I have my eye on the Washbowl. Apparently the ice conditions are good."
"I'll settle for five minutes in a decent health food store." Jean-Paul buckled up. He had mellowed from smug and now just looked pleased that Nate was speaking to him face-to-face again. "How long are we going to be gone, anyway?"
"Ask me tomorrow morning." Nathan's response was quiet, but his voice lacked that bleak, exhausted edge that had only grown more and more noticeable over the last couple of weeks. He was driving carefully enough as he pulled back out onto the highway, but every time he paused for a moment to take in the scenery, the tension in his posture eased another fraction.
---
Jean-Paul stared up at the proposed climb, a sheer wall of ice and rock rising up so far that he had to crane his neck to see the top. The frozen monolith bristled with icicles and practically dared the two comparative gnats at its feet to attempt conquest through the unforgiving climb.
"Nathan. You are out of your mind and I think I may be a little turned on right now."
In response, he got what could only be described as an evil laugh. Nathan was eying the cliff as well, a pleased little smile playing on his lips as he hefted one of the ice axes experimentally. "Nicely technical, I think. I'm not in the mood for something boring today. And there's not even anyone here to be horrified by the fact that we're not using ropes."
Jean-Paul shook his head. "You can go first. If you fall, I want to see you coming."
"You're a little bit paranoid," Nathan said, grabbing his other ice axe and choosing a starting point as he moved towards the bottom of the cliff. He needed to stick to the ice, really; going back and forth between the rock and the ice was not feasible, given that he was in crampons and had an axe in either hand.
He started upwards, a little tentative at first, but then with more confidence. He might not have done this for a while, but it was so familiar, and would always be. Like riding a bike, if bike-riding was the sort of purely physical activity that was better than meditation for emptying your head of thoughts you didn't want. Various aches and pains made themselves known almost immediately - the bullet wounds were only mostly healed, at best - but they were purely physical and almost welcome, in a weird way.
Jean-Paul gave him a decent head-start, then ventured up after him. He didn't have much to say and was far more concerned with keeping an eye on Nathan than quipping. His friend looked determined to say the least, his whole focus thrown into the ascent. Jean-Paul was loathe to break into whatever battle the other man was waging -- at least now it was a fight, not the resigned, lifeless misery that had ground him down over the last few weeks.
It was nearly a half-hour before Nathan paused for a breather. He'd been climbing steadily, maybe even a little too fast given that this wasn't bare rock. He kicked himself a more secure foothold, letting go of one of his axes and flexing that hand, wincing a little at the pain in his shoulder.
"I don't suppose I could convince you that you need a rest?" Jean-Paul hauled himself up onto the ledge beside Nate, already aware of the answer. "This view is magnificent. Worth chasing you down for."
"Not a chance." He was wheezing a little, he realized. Only to be expected; scarred lungs didn't always like full-out exertion in the cold. He flashed Jean-Paul a smile that he knew was a little on the manic side. "I could stay up here forever, you know." He gave a wave around with his free hand. "All this open space, nothing closing in on you. I don't trust buildings anymore."
"I'm afraid it's a bit late in life for us to run off together," was the dry response. "You should have come for me when I was young and beautiful." He grinned as Nate scuffed powdery snow in his direction. "It is good to get away from the list of 'must-be-dones'. Too many familiar things at home, keeping you in the present. It's hard to get a breath."
"It's been hard to breathe at all." Nathan sounded a little more subdued than he had, but the magic worked by hanging off the side of a rock face seemed to be persisting; he didn't tense up, didn't shut down as he might have, back at the mansion. "I needed this." He looked upwards at the stretch of rock and ice left to climb. "I don't think I had any idea how much."
"All the same, I'm glad you let me tag along. It's gorgeous up here." And seeing Nate slowly emerging from the cloud hanging over him was better than any scenery or fresh air.
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