Nathan and Manuel, very late Monday night
Jul. 21st, 2009 01:05 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsWell after the team arrives home, Manuel is drawn to the infirmary.
Amelia had given him something to help him sleep; it wasn't working very well. He felt like he was fading in and out between the infirmary room and that room in Greenland, in pain in both places. Once or twice, he thought he saw the telempath bending over him here in the infirmary, and the next thing he knew Amelia was in the room, frowning at his heart monitor. He didn't like it when memories bled into reality. Reminded him too much of other times, years ago...
When Manuel came through the door, Nathan was dreaming that the guards were there, hurting that boy again. His battered body twitched and jerked on the bed, his breath rasping in his chest and the heart monitor registering a heartrate both erratic and too fast.
Manuel knew of a nightmare when he felt one, though of what he couldn't be sure. Raging emotions and turmoil settled on him like dust the moment he placed a hand over Nathan's bare skin, the contact of flesh connecting them. Had he not had the ample amount of control he did, Manuel would have been left staggering backwards, spinning until he succumbed to Nathan's inner conflict.
Instead, little emotion flickered in the eyes that gazed down at his friend and momentarily gave the older man a reprieve that he knew he could not maintain for long. The empath's hand over the telepath's warmed to the touch and he waited until Nathan opened his eyes.
Even semi-conscious, Nathan could sense that it was Manuel. Not her, and the initial rush of panic eased. "Sorry," he muttered in a cracked voice, trying to force his eyes to focus on the younger man. "Projecting, probably..."
"Mm," he agreed. "Nothing more so than usual, yes?" he teased and removed his hand though the control remained. He was curious to see how long it took for him to get a headache and grow fatigued. He picked up a cloth on the side table and went to the sink, rinsing it before he returned and placed a hand over Nathan's eyes, urging him to close them. The towelette was folded and placed over those eyes, warm to the skin and he sat at the edge of the bed, watching the dance of colours fill his vision, attempting to decipher what was now and what was then.
Nathan couldn't stay focused on the here and now, even though he did register Manuel's weight coming down on the edge of the bed. The empath's mental presence was there, but it wasn't enough of an anchor. Fine shudders went through Nathan's body, his breath still hitching, labored, and if he'd been asked to identify where he was, he couldn't have answered for sure. Someone was watching him. The telempath, trying to figure him out? A whimper slipped out, and in the distance, something started beeping faster.
The contact returned, relief slipping out from Manuel in subtle doses, but with no further pressure from him as the damage was severe. Old experience had him recognizing things that shouldn't have been there, fractures of sporadic emotions and he had to close his eyes away from the visual. There had been no preparation for this, he'd walked in blind and felt as though he was searching through a darkness that was not Nathan's own.
His breathing slowed as Nathan's increased but the hold remained the same and a weave was slowly formed. One emotion connected to the other; where one was slipping, the other was strong and pulled together, strengthening a relief that was so minor, he was sure that it was a small beacon in an otherwise vast ocean.
The new emotions were gently nurtured, like new shoots coaxed into the light by a skilled gardener. There was no force behind them, they weren't being imposed, and the tension bled out of Nathan slowly as the conscious part of his mind recognized that. The feeling of safety, of comfort, provoked other mental images, faces he associated with the emotions, and although his breathing stayed shallow, his mind eased into a more restful state.
Distantly, Manuel felt Nathan ease out of a focus on strained emotions and they slipped into the weave with very little effort. He could think of nothing else as he sought and dissolved foreign signatures left behind, only able to heed Amelia's heavy warnings and tread with a care that one would do over very thin ice. When a crack of pain split downwards, threatening to break down the weave, he shifted into stealth for compensation, gingerly threading another around and stabilizing with a profound skill he'd thought was long ago dead.
Amelia had given him something to help him sleep; it wasn't working very well. He felt like he was fading in and out between the infirmary room and that room in Greenland, in pain in both places. Once or twice, he thought he saw the telempath bending over him here in the infirmary, and the next thing he knew Amelia was in the room, frowning at his heart monitor. He didn't like it when memories bled into reality. Reminded him too much of other times, years ago...
When Manuel came through the door, Nathan was dreaming that the guards were there, hurting that boy again. His battered body twitched and jerked on the bed, his breath rasping in his chest and the heart monitor registering a heartrate both erratic and too fast.
Manuel knew of a nightmare when he felt one, though of what he couldn't be sure. Raging emotions and turmoil settled on him like dust the moment he placed a hand over Nathan's bare skin, the contact of flesh connecting them. Had he not had the ample amount of control he did, Manuel would have been left staggering backwards, spinning until he succumbed to Nathan's inner conflict.
Instead, little emotion flickered in the eyes that gazed down at his friend and momentarily gave the older man a reprieve that he knew he could not maintain for long. The empath's hand over the telepath's warmed to the touch and he waited until Nathan opened his eyes.
Even semi-conscious, Nathan could sense that it was Manuel. Not her, and the initial rush of panic eased. "Sorry," he muttered in a cracked voice, trying to force his eyes to focus on the younger man. "Projecting, probably..."
"Mm," he agreed. "Nothing more so than usual, yes?" he teased and removed his hand though the control remained. He was curious to see how long it took for him to get a headache and grow fatigued. He picked up a cloth on the side table and went to the sink, rinsing it before he returned and placed a hand over Nathan's eyes, urging him to close them. The towelette was folded and placed over those eyes, warm to the skin and he sat at the edge of the bed, watching the dance of colours fill his vision, attempting to decipher what was now and what was then.
Nathan couldn't stay focused on the here and now, even though he did register Manuel's weight coming down on the edge of the bed. The empath's mental presence was there, but it wasn't enough of an anchor. Fine shudders went through Nathan's body, his breath still hitching, labored, and if he'd been asked to identify where he was, he couldn't have answered for sure. Someone was watching him. The telempath, trying to figure him out? A whimper slipped out, and in the distance, something started beeping faster.
The contact returned, relief slipping out from Manuel in subtle doses, but with no further pressure from him as the damage was severe. Old experience had him recognizing things that shouldn't have been there, fractures of sporadic emotions and he had to close his eyes away from the visual. There had been no preparation for this, he'd walked in blind and felt as though he was searching through a darkness that was not Nathan's own.
His breathing slowed as Nathan's increased but the hold remained the same and a weave was slowly formed. One emotion connected to the other; where one was slipping, the other was strong and pulled together, strengthening a relief that was so minor, he was sure that it was a small beacon in an otherwise vast ocean.
The new emotions were gently nurtured, like new shoots coaxed into the light by a skilled gardener. There was no force behind them, they weren't being imposed, and the tension bled out of Nathan slowly as the conscious part of his mind recognized that. The feeling of safety, of comfort, provoked other mental images, faces he associated with the emotions, and although his breathing stayed shallow, his mind eased into a more restful state.
Distantly, Manuel felt Nathan ease out of a focus on strained emotions and they slipped into the weave with very little effort. He could think of nothing else as he sought and dissolved foreign signatures left behind, only able to heed Amelia's heavy warnings and tread with a care that one would do over very thin ice. When a crack of pain split downwards, threatening to break down the weave, he shifted into stealth for compensation, gingerly threading another around and stabilizing with a profound skill he'd thought was long ago dead.
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