Nathan and Jeanne-Marie

[x-borealis.livejournal.com]

Jeanne-Marie returns to the medlab to find Nathan wide awake and her brother sound asleep. The reversal in roles leaves the two with much to discuss.



Despite a relatively brief absence, the room had changed since the woman had left. Jean-Paul, once awake and watching over his slumbering companion with a protective and almost familial care, had slumped back in his seat and found sleep himself for the first time in what seemed like days. And now he was being watched. Jeanne-Marie smiled faintly, closing the door carefully and quietly as she stepped inside, armed with the tea she had offered to prepare for her twin and which she now hoped Nate might have some taste for. It was almost as welcome to see him awake as it was to see her brother in rest. "That will teach me to detour, non?" she said softly, turning her eyes to the pale man in the pale bed, "How are you feeling, Nathan?"

"Tolerable," Nathan's voice was just as quiet, but rough with fatigue. "Don't wake him up. Those dark circles under his eyes are quite the fashion statements."

"I had no intention of it, "Jeanne-Marie assured him, tone sobering as she looked at Jean-Paul's weary shape and came close to speaking on his condition since Nathan's disappearance. She stopped herself. There was no reason to discuss what they both already knew. She set the tray down on a small table resting adjacent to his bed, offering instead, "I hope you like chamomile." The scent was relaxing, a blend of milk and honey and the subtle herb itself wafting up and through the sterile air of the medlab. She offered him a cup.

Nathan hesitated for a moment, then reached out with his good hand to take it. "It smells nice," he said, sipping at it. "Thank you," he said more softly, staring down into the cup rather than meeting her eyes. It struck him that he didn't know if Jean-Paul had told her what had happened to him, and why, or whether that had been forestalled by the distraction posted by his oh-so-cunning plan.

"De rien," Jeanne-Marie answered as she seated herself beside her slumbering brother, her own cup carefully held but untasted. Her gaze lingered on Nathan as his strayed from her, seemingly drawn down into the warmth of the liquid. "I know I am not the Beaubier you would wish to spend your evening with," she ventured after a time, "but...I am glad for this. For his rest and for this continued progress in your recovery, even if it is small." Her pause was sullen, her meaning difficult to place even after she spoke again, "And...for this opportunity to speak with you."

Nathan twitched, still staring fixedly into his tea. "He told you," he said, barely audible. It wasn't a question. She wasn't glaring at him or anything, and his shields were frayed enough that he should be picking up any hostile thoughts... "I'm sorry. I would have done anything to have prevented what happened to him."

The woman was silenced immediately, the familiar sentiments drawing only overwhelming regret to meet those ragged mental shields. Her throat was suddenly dry and she swallowed a portion of her tea, the realization that it was the same kind Jean-Paul had prepared for her so often in Laval leaving it to taste bitter and heavy in her throat. She set it down gradually and looked at Nathan, "He did. And there is blame enough for all of us. But that...is not what I wanted to say."

Nathan looked up at her mutely, the uncertainty in his tired gray eyes almost palpable.

"Thank you for being here for my brother, Nathan," Jeanne-Marie said at last, her voice was hushed, but simultaneously resolute.

Nathan flinched, his eyes dropping back to his tea. "... I tried my best," he said finally, his voice weary and unsteady. "He deserved better."

"It was more than anyone else could do," Jeanne-Marie said slowly, looking at her brother as he lowered his eyes again. Jean-Paul almost looked peaceful now that Nathan was back. Almost. But even in his sleep, his features wore the exhaustion and strain of the past days and past months. "More than I could do," the words were almost a whisper by the time she managed them. "No matter how much we wish it, we cannot protect everyone from everything. But you...I have walked the edge he described to me. And you were the one to pull him back and keep him safe and I am grateful."

"He did it for me first." Nathan's voice sounded oddly distant, as if he was regarding the emotions beneath his own words from very far away. "I would have done it anyway, though, and not just because I brought it on him. I haven't... known many people like your brother, Jeanne-Marie. I think I'd do just about anything for him." He gave a faint smile, reddened, tired eyes flickering back up to meet hers. "He's one of the reasons I did this, you know."

Hearing this, even in his current tone of aloof recollection, only granted more conviction to Jeanne-Marie's previous words and to her trust in Nathan. He was exactly the man, the friend, her brother perceived him to be. Paired with this certainty, the faint lightening in his expression coaxed a small smile in return, "I do not doubt it." Then their eyes met and something in his gray irises forced the expression to wane. "...'This'?"

"Oh, umm... the Plan." The capitalization was audible, and ironic. "I guess he maybe didn't tell you that part of it... he didn't know until afterwards." Slowly, stumbling a bit over his words - he was still so goddamned tired, even conversation wore him out, he explained to Jeanne-Marie the nature of the set-up, the precautions they'd had to take with memory blocks because of Trask, and what had finally happened in Wyoming.

Jean-Paul had told her many things. The specifics of the Plan, with that brutal capital, was not one of them. But she knew he had his reasons and even if it was only to save himself the pain of speaking, that was enough. Jeanne-Marie frowned slowly, staying quiet until the exhausted final words of the man's explanation, which seemed to leave him almost as drained as the ordeal. "So my brother is not the only one set on playing martyr and masochist," she said at length. "But I believe I understand the need and you have done an admirable thing," her hand found its way to his arm, touching it gently in what she hoped would be a reassuring gesture, "So I will leave your punishment to my brother. Once you are back on your feet, of course."

She got a flickering smile for that. "He's already told me to expect it. Not that he's one to talk." As she'd just pointed out. Wow, he was focused today - not, as the kids would say. He hesitated, then placed a hand over hers for a moment, wishing he could think of more to say. "On his birthday," he finally said, softly, "he hoped that you'd show up in the coming year."

The notion of this exchange between the pair left Jeanne-Marie more optimistic than she had expected to be for some time and a very soft amusement graced her features, "Bonne chance, then. You will need it." The sensation was only bolstered as his hand settled against hers, at least until he spoke, his soft words bringing a sudden fragile quality to her face, the reflection of a sudden rush of emotion which left her feeling almost off balance. "...Truly?"

"We were out on the dock. He was... well, relaxed." Nathan smiled again, almost involuntarily. "He was blaming me for making him have too fun to be lamenting his old age. Then he said something about...maybe we could find you in time for his next birthday. I think it was his version of 'wish you were here'." He met her eyes, and maybe it was the painkillers but what came out was a remarkably good choice of words if he did say so himself. "He was happy, and hopeful, and thinking about you was part of it."

Jeanne-Marie's hand turned beneath his, slim fingers latching to him in an attempt to keep her composure as Nathan recounted the day some two months before. Things had changed a great deal since then. Since something as simple as happy could describe her brother. "I am sorry I missed it," she replied, voice just above a hush and lips forced into a small smile her fractured mood could not hold stable, "And I will try to live up to such a thought."