[Nathan, Marie] Both the worlds suffer...

[x-rogue.livejournal.com]

Marie can tell that Nathan's not doing well at all and actually doesn't say more than "Hi there" before it becomes obvious exactly how unstable he is right now. Follows this post.


Even as little as Marie knew Nathan, it wasn't hard to tell that he wasn't doing well from their conversation on the journaling system. She stacked up the little digital recorder, the software, and the manuals, tucked them under her arm, and left her room with a purposeful stride. Moments later, she was knocking on Nathan's door.

"Nathan? It's Marie, I've got those things for you."

Sprawled in the armchair, Nathan looked up at the knock on the door and the sound of Marie's voice. He closed his eyes, biting back a sigh. *Yeah, like you didn't see that coming. Hands away from the laptop when you're agitated, next time.*

Taking a deep breath and straightening in the chair, he reached out with his telekinesis and unlocked the door. "Come in," he called, rather pleased by how coolly the words came out.

"Hi there." Marie let herself in and leaned against the door to close it, looking Nathan over speculatively. She was dressed for teaching; white blouse, grey gloves, short grey skirt, black mary-janes, and her hair in twin braids. She hugged the books and discs in her arms to her chest and stood there in silence, watching him.

Nathan mustered a faint smile. "Hello, Marie. I appreciate the loan of the recorder," he said, inclining his head at it. She took another step into the room and he didn't manage not to stiffen, all of his instincts screaming at him to abandon his casual pose and---and what? Nathan asked himself savagely. Logic was the only way to circumvent certain instinctive responses, and he applied it to the situation ruthlessly. Marie was mostly a stranger, but she'd been nothing but kind to him since his arrival. He was not going to lash at her just because she was here and his control was fraying.

"Do you /need/ me to leave?" she stopped moving, watching him closely. "You're not okay." It was a statement, devoid of judgement. Her eyes were gentle and her posture relaxed and unafraid.

Somehow, the calm steadiness she was projecting eased some measure of the tension he was feeling. Nathan squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, letting his breath out on a shuddering sigh. "No," he confessed, his voice not entirely steady. "I'm not, particularly. I--" He stopped, swallowing, and looked at her. "If I asked you to tell me about Manuel de la Rocha, what would you say?"

"I would say that Manuel is a frightening and possibly dangerous person," Marie said evenly. "He's also a frightened and damaged person. He and I have an agreement between us that allows him to practice being friends with me, partly because I understand what it's like to be influenced by the minds of others against my will. He's never had a friend before. He scares the hell out of me, but someone's got to take their chances, right?"

Nathan shivered. "You get right to the heart of the matter, don't you?" he asked. Marie thought the boy was worthy of help. Pete had sympathy for the boy, and thought that he was making an effort not to be a nightmare. It really ought to be reassuring, but he had never been good at trusting other people's perceptions of possible danger. Then again, where that led was the fact that he was going to have to approach de la Rocha on his own to form his own opinion. His hands clenched around the arms of the chair spasmodically, his breath catching in his chest. "Damn it," he said unevenly. "I'm--I don't know what to do, here."

Marie moved slowly to put what she carried down on Nathan's desk and then turned to him, extending one hand. "Scared?" She looked over his body language, recognizing the twitching of the hands and shoulders, the ragged breath, the grasping at scraps of calm. He was fighting himself. "I understand." Her voice was gentle but firm, as though she were speaking to a frightened animal or child. "What you could do is tell me what you're scared of, if you can trust me with it, and maybe I could help or at least I can tell you who can."

Nathan forced himself to release his death-grip on the arms of the chair, taking a deep breath and staring at the opposite wall, rather than looking at Marie. "I have had," he said as calmly as he could, "a number of very bad experiences with empaths. Actually, I've never had a positive experience with an empath. Something Manuel said on the journals--" He stopped again, wrestling for control. "I'm not sure he understood exactly how--alarming his suggestion was."

"I read it, and no, he would not necessarily understand that it would frighten you," Marie said. She stood a little way away from him, hands clasped at her waist. "It's not uncommon for the students here to experiment with their abilities. Manuel also seems to have difficulty understanding how other people function. He may be able to project and receive emotions but he doesn't understand people. I suspect his offer was without malice and he probably feels he was being responsible and up-front by approaching you about it while you were sane. Believe it or not, I think that he is trying to learn how to help on some level."

A laugh slipped out before Nathan could help himself, and he winced at the sound of it. *I do not get hysterical, damn it.* But Marie's words made him think again about that second reply of Manuel's, how hopefully the kid had asked him if he knew anything about empathy. If he tried to look at him in that way, instead of as a threat, maybe--

His head was splitting again, and this time, he didn't think he could blame it all on the precognition. He sighed again, raggedly, and rubbed at his temples. "I know I should be able to see it that way," he said stiffly. "Part of me does. But I just--the empaths I've known before--" His throat tried to close, as if to cut off the words, but he forced them out anyway. "I was fourteen years old when they started with the empathic conditioning," he said roughly. "Old enough to resist, and they liked that. They enjoyed it. Like cats, playing with a mouse. And there was something about what Manuel said--that casual curiosity--"

"Oh, Nathan, I'm so sorry that happened to you. I don't want Manuel to end up like that or to do that to other people, I don't want that for anyone, on either side of it. None of us do." She stepped toward him again, biting her lower lip briefly and hugging herself tightly. "I can see that what he said must have made you just... sick. When I met him, I was terrified of him when I realized what he could do, and I was just going on theory, not practice. I think you're incredibly strong to still be here. I can imagine what your first instinct might well have been -- aside from leaving. That doesn't help either, I expect. What can I do for you?"

*I can imagine what your first instinct might well have been--* Nathan gave her a searching look, but there was no judgement there. No anger. He took another deep breath, trying somewhat vainly to smile. "I'm all right, Marie," he said as lightly as he could. "I won't--you don't have to worry about what I might do. I don't think I'm going to be first in line to make friends with Manuel, but I can control myself." And if she didn't buy that, he was in trouble. He shouldn't have told her about the empath trainers, he thought dimly, because now he couldn't push the memories out of his mind's eyes.

"I'm not worried about him," Marie said flatly, shaking her head. "I don't think you'll kill him now that the moment's passed. I'm still worried about you, though."

Nathan shook his head slowly, the wan smile coming a little easier. "Don't," he said quietly. "I've had a lot of time to learn to live with it. I'm just--everything's closer to the surface, these days. It's probably the sleep deprivation."

"Could be. Could be the feeling safe once in a while, too." She tilted her head, analyzing him. "I'll bet it's easy to live with it when you're trying to survive. And when you've got no attachments and nothing to lose. Stopping... that's probably going to fuck you right up. And I will worry. The questions remain; what do you need, what can I do for you, what can someone else here do for you?"

Part of him wanted to shout at her to get the hell out of his room and leave him alone. But he didn't have the energy to kick up a fuss, and damn it, he liked this girl. There were few enough people he could say that about. "Need's a tricky thing," he said slowly. "There are the immediate needs, the survival needs. Those are easy." He looked up at her, trying to smile again. "Not so sure about the other kind," he said a bit heavily. "What I need to be able to tolerate physical contact without breaking the arm of anyone touching me, what I need to actually sleep through the night--what I need to feel at peace for more than a few minutes in even the smallest way. I can't answer any of those questions, Marie. I don't know how." He laughed again, very softly. "Right now I'd be satisfied with figuring out what I need to sleep through the night."

"I wish I could help you more. And I'm sure everyone you trust to do something has done their best so far." Marie looked thoughtful, biting her lip once more. "Sleep deprivation is horrible, it can make a person crazy and some of us don't have far to go. All I can do is listen and not judge if you want to talk. I don't think you could tell me anything that would shock me." She tapped her temple and then shrugged. "If you need exercise, someone to spar with, I could help set that up, if physical exhaustion makes a difference. I can handle a broken arm if I have to, as well." She smiled crookedly. "But try and schedule it when Logan's around if you don't mind."

Nathan tried to smile back. "I only wish I was in the shape to spar," he said a bit wistfully. "It's my usual way of blowing off steam. But talking to you--it has helped, Marie. Thank you." He still felt tense, agitated, but he didn't feel like he was going to fly apart under the pressure anymore.

"I know I'm a stubborn pain in the ass," Marie admitted wryly. "But I like you. So. You get to suffer like the other victims of my affection."

"This place is going to take some getting used to," Nathan said with another sigh, letting his head fall back against the chair. "I'm sure you've got other things to do this afternoon," he said, "and I think I'm going to try lying down for a bit and see what happens. Hell, if worse comes to worse I could always ask Moira to drug me again. That was the most sleep I've gotten in weeks."

"It might be a good idea," Marie said. "And, yes. I have Euro Lit students to bore at 1:30 and later I have a heap of juniors to run through the obstacle course in the gym. Also, if you want me to just get lost, you can say so." Her smile was without recrimination. "You know where I am if there's anything you think I can do for you."

"How about I make it 'goodbye for now' instead of 'get lost'?" Nathan said, and pushed himself up out of the chair, swaying as he rose. "Thank you for the recorder, Marie," he said, and reminded himself that toppling on her would not a friendly sort of thing to do. "And--for the rest," he added, a bit awkwardly.

Marie grinned up at him. "Go lie down before you fall down, Nathan," she said chidingly. "Don't make me tuck you in. The instructions for the recorder and software are all there, email me if you get stuck. And the rest? Any time. Literally." She walked to the door and opened it, looking over her shoulder to make sure he wasn't going to fall right over.

"Yes, ma'am," Nathan said with a wave that could have been mistaken for a salute, and then concentrated over getting over to the bed before his knees gave out on him.