xp_logs | Nathan/Moira

x-mactaggart.livejournal.com posting in

Moira sat in the rain, letting her legs dangle from the side of the pier. She knew it was raining but sitting out here in the mist and drizzle reminded her of Muir, so she ignored the fact that she was soaked. She wiped away the tears and took a deep breath. 'Pull it together, MacTaggart,' she mentally hissed at herself. She was so close to breaking that it was becoming almost impossible. Emergencies, sleepless nights, frustration, Joe's call. And now?

Now she had made Miles -cry-. The confrontation with Sarah in her office had been one of the worst things yet this week, along with the fight with Amanda. Especially the picture...she sighed and lowered her head onto her crossed arms.

'Build tha' wall back up, hide behind it again.'

Nathan saw her while he was still some distance from the pier, and the despondency he could see in her slumped shoulders and bowed head only made him quicken his pace. The terse post she'd made on the journals had basically screamed that there was something wrong, and as he got closer he could feel it, sense the pain coming off her in waves without even trying. Her tangled thoughts crashed against his shields, and the images he saw were almost enough, his headache and lingering dizziness aside, to make him break into a run.

"Moira?" he asked anxiously, reaching the spot where the pier met solid ground. When she didn't answer, he strode forward over the weathered boards and crouched down beside her. "Hey," he said gently, reaching out to lay a hand on her shoulder without hesitating. It was much easier when he initiated contact. "Moira, look at me. What happened?"

She tensed at the touch, not surprised Nathan had come looking, just not expecting him -this- soon. Moira had wanted, needed, more time to build up those damned emotional shields again, to push everything back inside. She squeezed her eyes tighter and hunched more, shaking her head. If she'd talk, she'd cry. If she started crying, she didn't know when she would stop. She kept trying to draw in deeper breathes but it felt like someone was sitting on her chest.

Nathan felt a sudden, overwhelming desire to find whoever or whatever had put her in this sort of state and kill it. At least it didn't feel like it had anything to do with him. Not that it made him feel any less guilty about adding to her stress. "It's okay," he murmured, feeling more than a little awkward as he settled down beside her, sliding his arm around her shoulders and drawing her in close. "Whatever it is--it's okay."

She drew in a gasping breath and tried to hide her head further in her arms. "Nay, nay it's -not-," she managed, the words muffled as her shoulders started to shake a little. Normally, she would have been thrilled that he was reaching out to her like this...but she didn't want to show him how much she was hurting. Guilt started to creep up on the other emotions and she cursed herself mentally.

"Okay," he said, trying to keep his voice light and soothing. "So it's not." His arm tightened around her almost instinctively, and he struggled to force the words out past the ache in his chest. "Let me try and make it okay?" he said, almost in a whisper.

A sob broke free. "Oh God, Nathan...it 'urts so much, it's nay supposed ta," she managed, trying to regain her control. She slowly unwound herself from the position she had held but still didn't look at him. But she leaned into him slightly. "I..." She gasped as she fought to breath normally. A part of her brain suddenly reminded her that if she continued like that, she'd hyperventilate.

Nathan swallowed hard. "Breathe," he said softly, rubbing her back. "Just--listen to the rain for a minute. Imagine we're home--on Muir."

Moira struggled to regain at least control over that much. She tilted her head back and finally opened her eyes to stare up at the falling rain. She lost track of what was rain and tears as they intermingled. "I'm such a fuckup," she whispered, searching for the anger. She wanted to give in and just hang onto Nathan until it all went away but she didn't -want- to break down.

Nathan frowned. "Are not," he said automatically. She ducked her head again, and he sighed. "Please tell me what happened?" he asked, more pleadingly than he'd intended. The anger was growing again. If someone at the school, one of the people she had given so much to had left her in this state--

She wiped her face off. "Jus'...combination of thin's...Amanda hit me where it 'urts when I found 'er drinkin'." Her voice dropped into a monotone and she stared down at her hands. "Threw up after, mainly because o' th' smell o' th' vodka." Another shaky breath. "An' then, today, I talked ta Miles an'..." She looked up at Nathan suddenly, eyes brimming over with tears and the rest of the words came in a rush. "'e sounded like 'im, he sounded like Kevin an' I ran because I couldna make it stop -hurtin'- an' Sarah confronted me 'bout it. An' th' picture I 'ad o' Kevin, 'is good day?" She covered her mouth her hands. "Ripped. Accident but...I made Miles cry because I was ta much o' a coward ta face..."

Something inside of Moira finally bent and snapped under the strain and she found herself sobbing hysterically. A hand still covered her mouth to hold them back but her other one curled into Nathan's shirt and she didn't know if she was trying to push him away or draw him closer.

Nathan shivered, trying to sort out what impulse to follow, which emotion to surrender to and which to stifle. But with Moira clinging to him, sobbing so unrestrainedly that, the urge to find the two girls - Miles could hardly be blamed for any of this – and verbally flay them was rapidly becoming much less important. "Shh," he murmured, tentatively putting his other arm around her. "You're not a coward. We'll sort it out with Miles. If what his, um, mother said was true, he'll understand."

She gave in, completely and utterly and with a wretched cry clung to Nathan. "...'orrible, tha's what I am," she managed between sobs. "Shouldnay let this affect me, need ta keep, God, I jus' need ta keep goin'." Because if she didn't, if she didn't drive herself so hard, she'd lose everything. She believed that she didn't try hard enough with Kevin and she lost him. She couldn't go through that again.

"Damn it," he said with a touch of sad humor, the anger draining away. For now, at least. "You're as bad as me." He reached out, his hand shaking a little, and stroked her hair tentatively. "And I'm the biggest hypocrite in the world, saying this, but sometimes you do have to stop. Putting one foot in front of the other when you're falling apart inside is highly overrated."

Moira shuddered but relaxed a little. The sobs were easing somewhat, at least. "I -can't- lose it all again," she whispered, instinctively burying her head in the crook of his neck. "I jus' don't know what ta do. If'n I stop, I lose, if'n I keep goin', I drive meself inta th' ground...an' I know it's unhealthy but I cannae stop doin' tha'." She was deeply afraid she'd lose Amanda to the drinking and magic addiction, herself, Nathan, all of it, gone. A second of stopping, hesitation, and all of it could be lost.

Nathan was silent for a moment. "You know," he said finally, unable to help the little quiver of mirth in his voice - it really wasn't funny, but he couldn't help himself, "it's a damned good thing I called you when I did. You clearly need a keeper." He felt her stiffen and try to draw back, but he didn't let her. "You do what you have to do," he said softly. "And you come to me, damn it, when you need to vent. I'm not in rocky enough shape that I can't be a shoulder to cry on when you need it."

"I dinnae need a keeper." She sniffled, the words muffled against his neck. The tears were starting to stop and Moira felt her body relax against Nate's. "I dinnae like wha' failure will do ta me," she admitted and then groaned. "I'm sorry, Nathan, I'm so sorry...after last night, yer out 'ere in th' rain..." She raised her head a little to fully unmuffle her words. "I'm sorry."

He hesitated, struck by the open, vulnerable look in her eyes and the strange contrast between it and the steely, if somewhat battered determination he could sense beneath the surface. "You are--quite something, you know that?" he said, without thinking. She blinked at him, and he reached up and brushed the damp hair away from her face, again reacting almost automatically. "Maybe you don't need a keeper," he conceded, "but you've got me. However you need or want me, Moira. If you forget everything else, remember
that."

She gazed back at him, not knowing the words. "I...seem ta lose words around ye," she admitted, realizing she liked it when his face softened like that. She lowered her head back down to his shoulder and sighed softly. "...thank ye..." Moira closed her eyes and let herself relax against him. "When does it stop hurtin'?" she murmured, feeling soothed by the feel of his heart beating under her hand.

Nathan gave a soft laugh. "I don't know. But if you find out, feel free to share, all right?"

She smiled a little and then opened her eyes again. The water and rain did remind her of home. "...so do ye," she murmured, unaware she had spoken that aloud.

"This isn't such a bad place either, I think." He looked up at the sky, noticing that it didn't seem to be about to stop raining anytime soon. "On the other hand, I'm getting kind of wet. And you're soaked. Think we might go back in? I have a particularly nice view from my room, you know."

Moira squinted upwards. "Aye, 'tis at tha'," she said, smiling a little. She shivered a little. "While this is comfortable, warm clothes would fit th' bill right now..." She reluctantly started to untangle herself from Nathan. She wrinkled her nose. "God, I -am- soaked." She tugged on her shirt, water dripping freely from the material. "Enough water in 'ere ta put water th' grounds..."

Nathan blinked. "Yeah," he said, and then shook himself, returning his gaze to her face, where it belonged. "You definitely need to change clothes." White t-shirts and rain didn't mix well--or shouldn't mix, rather. Whether or not they mixed well was another issue, and one that he really shouldn't be considering--

"Aye, I should..." Moira started to climb back to her feet, legs wobbling a little. She grabbed Nathan's shoulders for balance. "Whoa...okay, endin' up in th' lake isna on today's plans. Or tomorrow's."

"I'm never going to be allowed to forget that, am I?" Nathan said with a snort, leading her back down the pier and towards the mansion. "One spur of the moment ducking and you're going to hold a grudge forever." As they headed back to the mansion, the anger was coming back, bubbling up inside him slowly but inexorably. He could keep it hidden from Moira easily enough, but he wasn't going to let it drop. Those two girls had some explaining to do.