xp_logs | Nathan and Moira, backdated to Wednesday afternoon...

Moira paused outside of Ca...Nathan's, she reminded herself, door and knocked. She frowned when she didn't get an answer and knocked louder. Shrugging, she pushed the door open...only to shriek slightly as a book flew at her head. Moira ducked as the book hit the side of the door with a dull thud and fell lifeless to the ground. "Nathan! O' all th'..." she paused in mid-rant and cursed.

He was curled up in a fetal position on his bed, hands wrapped around his head. He was shaking slightly and twitched every once in a while. "Nate?" Nothing. She crept closer and realized he was still asleep. Meaning a nightmare. She grabbed his arm and shook slightly. "Nathan, wake up, sw..." She paused. "Wake up, blast it!" There, that was much better.

There were children screaming. Running, screaming, as green-armored giants moved through the village and mowed them down with plasma fire, laughing as they fired. Some tried to take refuge in one of the symmetrical huts, but the soldiers merely set it on fire, and the screams coming from within, the screams were--

"--ake up, blast it!" he heard Moira snap at him, sounding afraid, and suddenly he was back in his own body, curled up on the bed and every muscle tense and aching. He turned on his back, lowering his hands and staring at them blankly as they shifted in and out of focus. The pounding in his head was in time with his heartbeat. One, two, three--the soldiers had counted, too. Keeping score as they mowed down the children.

Moira peered down at him worriedly. "Nathan, what 'appened?" She started to reached out but stopped, not knowing how he would react after a nightmare that sounded that bad. The thrown book had shaken her a little. She'd been dodging too many things this week.

"I don't--" His voice broke, and he took a deep breath, then another, trying to compose himself. He sat up slowly, hoping Moira wouldn't touch him again just yet. "A nightmare," he said as slowly and evenly as he could. "Precognitive, I think. Not pleasant."

Noting the body language, Moira shoved her hands into her pockets. "They're nay bein' verra pleasant lately," she said softly, concerned about him. They had never been this bad. She turned and rescued the book from the floor where it had landed in an heap.

Nathan closed his eyes for a moment as Moira turned away, grateful for the moment's respite. He felt faint, slightly dizzy - not just from the headache, he knew - and oddly detached. Maybe it was a defensive measure. What he'd seen--if he had to feel it, really feel it, control would go out the window.

She fidgeted with the book and muttered to herself "By th' end o' this week, people are goin' ta be throwin' cars at me...Jubilee's sparks an' now books," but quietly enough that hopefully Nathan hadn't heard. She glanced over her shoulder and hugged herself, book still in hand. It was obvious he was struggling and she would wait until he said different.

He could sense her, assessing him. Wanting to say something, but restraining herself. He had always been able to 'read' Moira like he could very few other people in this world. "It was children," he heard himself say. "They were using them as target practice."

She could feel her face tighten and she breathed deeply. "Oh Nathan..." Children...always a sore spot between them both. She edged over and sat on the corner of the bed and put the book down finally. "Ye...ah...lost this..." She glanced at him again. It was his move, it usually was.

Nathan looked at the book, then at her. He felt his mouth twist with a bitter smile. "I 'threw' it at you when you opened the door, didn't I?" Moira ducked her head, but after a moment, nodded, and he sighed, sinking his face into his hands. "How long before I do worse?" he asked, his throat feeling tight.

"I dinnae know," she answered truthfully and hesitantly put a hand on his leg. "I'm studyin' all th' test results I can run on ye an' compilin' everthin' I learn. I jus'...I jus' dinnae know." She was frustrated with herself. She was the expert, right? Then why couldn't she fix this for him? "We'll make it through..."

Mentally, Moira winced. That was supposed to have been "You'll" but...she was tired and concerned and just a tight ball of worried emotion right now.

He looked up at her, searching her eyes for some sign that she really did think that the problem could be solved. But all he saw was uncertainty. "I've never been much of an optimist," he said, trying to keep his tone light and failing miserably. "I suppose too many things in my life have just--not worked out."

"'Tis why I do th' thinkin' when we're together," she said, trying to lighten the mood. "But I'm tryin' me best...was up most o' th' night doin' research on this." She squeezed his leg gently.

Taking a deep breath, hating the fact that he had to more or less steel himself to do it, he reached out and took her hand in his. "I'm an ungrateful bastard," he said, mustering a wan smile. "And I really ought to have faith in you."

She smiled back and hesitated before twining her fingers with his and squeezing. "I've got enough fait' in me own blown up ego ta support yer sometimes waverin' one. I'll find somethin' out, Nathan, really, I promise. Whatever it takes out o' me, ye'll get yer answers."

Nathan squeezed her hand back once, before letting go. With a sigh, he laid back against the bed and forced himself to relax, running through one of the semi-meditative exercises his trainers had taught him. It didn't really help. "I hurt all over," he said dimly. "Feel like an old man--"

"I'd say ye are an old man but I'm only a year younger so I'll keep me mout' shut." She eyed him. "Ye doin' okay now?"

"Yeah. I'll live." He laughed softly, feeling a flicker of real humor. "At least, I think so. Hell, I suppose I shouldn't complain. On a scale of one to ten, this definitely does not rank up there with the virus. Thank heavens for small mercies."

"Oh Lord, I'd call tha' a large mercy." She shuddered slightly at the memory of it. "I jus'...the 'ELL?!" Moira screamed a scream that, later, could only be called a little girl scream and she frantically patted around the back of her pants as Nathan watched, more than a little amused as she finally pulled out the vibrating beeper. "Bloody...'ell..."

"Duty calls, I gather," he said, the smile coming easier this time. "Go on, Moira. I'll be fine. I'll even try and get some more sleep."

She grumbled at the beeper and finally shut it off. She waved it at him as she stood up. "I'll brin' ye more books later on. But jus' in case ye need me, call th' beeper...I'm takin' it -off- o' vibrate this time. I'll talk ta ye once this emergancy, or need ta talk, is finished up." She gave him one more concerned look but he waved her off as she headed towards the call.