xp_logs | Moira, Nathan, and Rahne, Tuesday afternoon (Reply)

Moira goes looking for Nathan, and has trouble dealing with what she finds.

With a quick yank, Moira turned off the engine to the borrowed car and remembered to breathe. She was a fairly good driver but this had been her first time driving in America and it was not taking place under the best circumstances. Luckily for her, the squirrel and the postbox, no one had been harmed in the process. She stepped out, remembering to lock the car and looked around.

It was nearing 12:30 or so, so the lunch time crowd had started mingling around in various restaurants. Moira couldn't help shivering. In her hurry to find Nathan as quickly as humanly possible, she had forgotten a jacket. A quick glance at the sky reminded her it was threatening to rain. Moira poked at the link again, frustrated.

He'd put up the bloody walls again. But they were starting to weaken and she caught the thought of 'coffee house'. She spotted one down the road a bit and headed towards it. It was slightly dingy, slighty out of the way. Meaning, a perfect choice for Nate.

The smell of coffee was the first thing she noticed when she walked in. The large man scribbling away in the corner was the second. Everyone appeared to be giving him plenty of room and she really hoped there hadn't been any incidents. She walked over slowly, taking care to let him see her before she sat down. Her wrist was turning various nasty colors, so cautious was the way to go.

He was running out of napkins. Nathan frowned fitfully, toying with the idea of using the backs of them to continue. But he'd mess up the arrangment if he did that, he realized, staring down at the detailed map he had been producing piece by piece. It was as close to an identical twin of the one he had seen in the vision that had driven him out of the mansion as he could manage, since part of the map had been obscured. Whether or not he liked his telepathy, the photographic memory that came with it was often very helpful. He really needed to number the napkins, though, just in case they got out of order.

"Hi, Moira," he said and glanced across at the two dead young soldiers, who hadn't budged from their seats since sitting down. The rest of the dead had moved around quite a bit, some of them vanishing entirely if he looked at them too closely. These two seemed fully solid, though. And the girl had been quite helpful, correcting his spelling of a number of the place names that he hadn't seen clearly. Shrugging philosophically when they just stared back at him, clearly not about to move, he shifted over so that Moira could sit down beside him instead. "I'm just trying to get the rest of this down."

Moira sat down slowly, eyes widening at the map. It looked like a map of Europe and Asia, but it was covered in strange markings, some in the sort of symbols Nathan had drawn on the bathroom mirror, others she didn't recognize at all. "What, exactly, are ye tryin' ta finish?" She glanced behind her. The girl behind the counter was shooting her worried glances but Moira waved her off. She gave Nathan a quick once over, relief washing through her. He wasn't hurt, naked or beating someone's head in, so at least some worry managed to leave.

"It's the map. One of the maps, I mean. I thought it might be why they're all following me around," Nathan said, glaring at the boy, who was making faces at Moira. "~Stop that,~" he said, slipping fluidly into the language the boy would understand. "~Show some respect.~"

She followed his gaze to the empty seats and took a deep breath. All right, this was weird. "Nathan, who are ye talkin' ta?"

"The boy," Nathan said with a shrug, carefully printing the name of a city on one of the western napkins. A voice in the back of his mind pointed out that it was around the same place as modern Nice, but he ignored it. He wasn't trying to create a comparative map, after all. "He's dead, so his manners aren't all that good."

"Oh," she replied a little weakly. Tentatively, she reached out and brushed the wall that seperated the link currently. "I was worried 'bout ye."

Nathan shivered violently, feeling the touch on the link almost like a blow. For a moment, the whole coffee shop seemed to blur around him. The map stopped making sense, becoming a rough sketch of Europe marked with symbols he didn't understand, that made his head hurt. The dead soldiers flickered, overlaid by other versions of themselves that were angry, screaming at him--

Mentally, Moira pulled back quickly. "I'm sorry," she whispered, backing off. Her head pounded from the echo that came off of...what -was- that exactly? She twisted her hands together and thought about the next move.

Nathan exhaled on a shaky breath as the coffee shop faded back into soft-focus. The map was readable again, and the soldiers that were left weren't shouting at him anymore. He felt a flicker of real distress, though, at how few of them were left. The girl's brother was gone, and better than half the others--

"~Don't cry,~" he told the girl, who was staring at the empty spot beside her with a tragic expression.

Something was wrong. She felt like -she- had done something wrong, which was crazy. She wasn't the one sitting in a coffee shop drawing maps, talking to dead people and scaring the person next to you half to death. "Nathan?"

There wasn't anything left to put on the map, he realized, looking back down at it. He hadn't seen the eastern sections of the map. One of the green-armored soldiers had been standing in front of it, wiping the blood off his hands. He had turned for a moment to kick the prisoner, the one he had tortured for information, but--

Nathan winced, instinctively shielding his ribs as he felt the kick.

Moira reached for him, accomplishing two things with the move. One, he was now supported in case he fell over and two, he was partially shielded from the rest of the resturant. She began talking to him softly, his name and the few endearments her mother had taught her in Gaelic.

"I--I think I'm done," Nathan said, trying to catch his breath. "The map--I think it's done." He looked down at Moira, his throat tightening. "Do you t-think--they'll follow us back?"

"Nay, I think they'll leave ye alone," she said, wiping sweat off his forehead. She paused. "Do ye need ta take th' map? Actually...aye, ye should..." Moira pressed a quick kiss to his forehead and then stood up. She walked over to the girl behind the counter who was eyeing her oddly. "D' ye 'appen ta 'ave any safety pins?"

"...maybe..."

"Can I 'ave them?"

The girl tried to look behind her but Moira deftly stepped in the way. "Dude, your friend is fucking nuts."

"An' yer workin' in a coffee shop wit' enough tattoo's ta make th' entire 'ell's Angel's jealous." She leaned forward. "Safety pins."

"Forget it!"

With a sigh, Moira dug out her wallet and tossed the contents of it, around $150, on the counter. The left over spending cash from the shopping trip. "Safety pins or tha' money finds its way up inta verra uncomfortable crevices." She didn't bother waiting for the answer as she leaned across and grabbed the box she spotted, then headed back to Nathan. "All right, ye, let me jus' safety pin this together an' we'll go 'ome, aye?"

"Okay," Nathan said uncertainly, rubbing at his temples, wondering why he was just noticing the headache. Not to mention the stiffness in his back or the way his hand was cramping. It struck him that he had to have been here for a while. "I'm missing parts," he said, watching her pin the napkins together and fold the map carefully. "I couldn't--see it all."

"Well, ye certainly managed ta do quite a lot," she murmured, her hands steady and sure as she gathered everything up. "'ere, 'old this. Ye okay ta walk?"

"I think." He felt a little dizzy as he got up, but it wasn't too bad. Moira stepped in closer, to support him. He flinched, but didn't try and move away. "I'm--glad you came and found me," he went on, hearing an edge of wildness in his voice that he didn't understand, because he didn't feel that way. Didn't feel much of anything at the moment, really. "I don't think I know where I am."

She ignored the flinch and slid her arm around his waist. "Tha's okay. I do, trust me."

---

"They didn't stay in the back seat," Nathan muttered weakly, leaving heavily on Moira as she helped him through the front door of the mansion. "They're following us--"

"Then tell them ta get a bloody 'otel room," she responded, turning her head to look over her shoulder. "Ye 'ear tha'? No dead, dyin' or spooky guests allowed!"

Nathan blinked back over his shoulder to see the two dead soldiers, the girl and the one who looked like Bridge, stop in their tracks and just stand there, watching him and Moira with unreadable expressions. He looked away again, swallowing hard. "I think they heard you," he said, his voice cracking.

"Good!" She was furious. With who, she didn't know. "Aye, come back an' bother 'im another time. An' this time keep 'im within my bloody sight!"

"Er, Lady Moira, who are ye talking to?" Rahne ventured. She had hurried down as soon as she saw them approaching, but she was immediately starting to get the feeling she was missing something.

"I dinnae recommend ye watchin' Sixt' Sense," Moira muttered, dragging Nathan further along. "'Tis a verra lon' story apparently."

Rahne thought it had been a perfectly reasonable question, but she didn't pursue it. "Ah.... can I help, and what do ye want me to do?"

"Rahne," Nathan said hazily, noticing the girl. "Watch out for the walls. They don't want to stay in one shape."

Rahne blinked at him. Right. Visions. "I'll keep an eye on them," she said seriously. "Or a nose, so t'speak. Ye want another hand getting through?"

"Rahne, lass, could ye please get 'is other side?" Moira's back was starting to complain heavily about all the weight it was dragging and she was starting to list to one side.

Rahne obediently and swiftly moved over to Nathan's side, opposite Moira, and took his arm to put it over her shoulders. "Easy here --"

Nathan tried very hard not to trip on any of the stairs. Moira and Rahne were both a lot smaller than he was; he didn't want to fall on them, or make them fall. "I hear them singing," he muttered as they steered him towards Moira's rooms. "They're waiting to die, but they're singing--"

Moira kicked her door open, pleased to see it hadn't been shut all the way. "In ye go, watch yer step, love." Together, she and Rahne manuvered him towards the bed.

"What in the world..." Rahne looked up worriedly at Moira as they deposited Nathan carefully on the bed. "--I'm sorry. Do ye want me to get anything?"

"No!" Nathan said suddenly, violently, as Moira tried to push him back against the pillows. "No, I'm not going to sleep--I'm them when I sleep and I don't want to do that anymore--" Barely conscious of what he was doing, he lashed out with his telekinesis, not too hard, but with enough force to send both Moira and Rahne staggering backwards. He tried to push himself up off the bed but his arms wouldn't hold him and he fell back against the bed, something close to a moan escaping him. "I don't want to forget who I am," he said wildly. "But they won't stop pushing at me--"

Grunting, Moira righted herself and then tackled Nathan neatly around the waist. "Bloody 'ell! Rahne, th' bag tha's on th' table! I need it now!" #Nathan, stop -fightin'- me!#

Rahne darted for it and brought it over. "Here. Nathan," she said quietly, squelching the nervousness as well as she could, "We ken who ye are, but not sleeping makes it hard to remember much of anything..."

Nathan tried futilely to push Moira away, but she was holding on so tightly, and he couldn't seem to muster the strength. Not without using his telekinesis again, and even that little bit earlier had left his head spinning. "Don't make me go back there," he pleaded with her.

#Shhh, baby, I'll make it right, jus' please, stop fightin' me. I'll make it go away fer a while, I promise.# She reached out for the bag and deftly opened it one handed. Where was that damned needle?

"Lady Moira, what're ye reaching for? I can --"

"Needle," she grunted, as Nathan bucked and Moira nearly bit her tongue. "Only one in there. God damn, ye overgrown ox, 'old still!"

Nathan felt his telekinesis lash out again, seemingly of its own accord, and the lamp on the bedside table flung itself across the room and shattered against the wall. The little girl who had been running and burning and screaming was in the corner, watching him and smiling, and he cringed, throwing himself against Moira in a desperate attempt to get off the bed and out of the room. Away from the little girl, no matter how far he had to go--

Swearing, Moira rocked back and slammed her shoulder full into Nathan's stomach. Not expecting it, he buckled slightly, giving her enough momentum to push him back on the bed. "Rahne??"

"Here." Rahne had ducked slightly away from the lamp, but she'd found the needle and handed it to Moira as soon as the other woman had a hand free.

With a practised tug, Moira got the cap off with her teeth. Now for the tricky part. Which actually wasn't as hard as she was afraid of as she slide the needle home in his arm without took much difficulty at all.

Nathan didn't have the breath to swear, or to keep fighting. "Stars--in the ceiling," he wheezed, going limp against the pillows. "Stars over the desert, but there's so much smoke--"

#Sleep. I'll be 'ere when ye wake.# As Nathan's eyes fluttered shut, Moira slumped to the side bonelessly and sighed. "I'm t' old fer this."

Rahne thought of asking about constellations but shook her head at herself. "Lady Moira," she asked instead, softly, crouching down. "Can I help ye up? Or anything?"

"Aye, please," Moira groaned, letting Rahne pull her up. "Yer nay 'urt are ye?"

"Och, no, not a bit -- are ye?"

"I've been better. I'll be sore tomorrow but tha's 'bout it. Sorry ye 'ad ta see tha', though I'm glad ye were on 'and." She got up, moving stiffly, and began to tuck Nathan into bed.

"I said to yuir post that I'd come and meet ye, but I realized after that ye'd not be likely to see it."

Moira smiled at her over her shoulder. "'Tis okay, means I've got mail in me in-box. Glad ye did, would 'ave 'ad a much 'arder time wit' 'im."

"Wee bit heavy for one, isn't he?"

"I'm puttin' 'im on a diet," she grumbled, taking the time to make sure he was comfortable. She smoothed his hair back, sighing deeply. The fear was only now beginning to fade, and only grudgingly. She would feel much better if she knew what sort of shape he would be in when he woke up.

"I'm sorry I didna know better what to do... is there any way I can help now? ...Besides water." Rahne had stepped over to the bathroom to get a cup. "Ye would be thirsty, I'd think."

"Water an' lots o' it." She eyed the slumbering form in her bed and then her clock. "I'm nay movin' fer at least an 'our...ye doin' anythin'?"

"No, I can wait and run errands if ye need it." Rahne refilled the water-cup as soon as Moira had drained and set it down, then settled in to help keep watch.

"Actually, I jus' need th' company." Moira gave a shaky laugh. "I was goin' ta watch some old classics before all this 'appened, care ta join me?"

"...Aye, I'd like that."