Moira/Nathan

[x-mactaggart.livejournal.com]

With some effort, Moira managed to open and then close her door again. She had liberated a good deal of food from the kitchen, enough to safely feed her and Nathan...twice. But then again, she hadn't eaten in well over 24 hours and he hadn't been eating that well, either. So she felt justified.

The snoring alerted her to what Nathan was up to and she shook her head as she went over and dumped the bags on the table. When she was finished unloading, she went and peered down at him. "Nate?"

He was peripherally aware of the fact that there was someone in the room with him, but the presence felt safe, unthreatening. And he was so tired--

Moira couldn't help but smile in bemusement as he grumbled in his sleep. But he had to wake up sometime. Reaching over, she started to tug off the blankets he had wrapped himself in. "Come on, rise an' shine."

Nathan made a sound of protest, clinging to the blankets. "G'way," he muttered.

"Nay bloody likely." She tugged harder. "Dinnae make me come in after ye."

"Can if you want--" Nathan murmured, the still-asleep part of his brain finding that a perfectly acceptable idea.

She stopped for a second, floored. Well, that had been unexpected. "Dinnae tempt me," she muttered, reaching over to yank harder on the blankets.

It finally got through to him that she wasn't going to go away to let him sleep. "Oh, fine," he muttered groggily, opening his eyes and sitting up slowly. He really was tangled in the damn blankets, he thought dimly, trying to free himself. When had he laid back down again? The last thing he remembered was getting changed and thinking he should go downstairs and find Moira to make sure she ate.

"Glad ta see ye awake. Nearly dragged me in there wit' ye." She smirked down at the blankets. "An' ye call -me- a blanket pig."

Nathan got one hand free and tried to smooth down his hair. "I was cold," he said a bit uncertainly, shifting as the buzz of voices at the back of his mind grew a little louder. "What time is it?"

"After two," she replied, helping him unwrap the blankets. "I brought food...want ta try ta eat at th' table or jus' stay in bed? I didnae brin' anythin' tha'll make a 'uge mess."

"Table's good." He got up, swaying a little, and was secretly relieved to realize that he had indeed gotten changed. Good to know the drugs weren't screwing with his memory that badly. Something flickered at the edges of his vision and he flinched, but didn't look.

Moira frowned. "Maybe food will 'elp?" Her own vision was wavering a little and she knew she probably needed to stock her area with accessible food. But eating hadn't been her top priority these last few days. She took his elbow, mainly because she wanted to be sure he made it to the table all right, though some of her just wanted the contact.

"Both of us, probably," he said with a strained smile and let her guide him over to the table. He eyed her as she went over and sat down, wondering if he should say something about how she wasn't looking after herself. It probably needed to be said, but he didn't have the energy to argue with her about it. And it was his fault this time, after all. "What did you bring?" he asked without much interest, looking at the bags. He didn't know whether it was the drugs or what, but he didn't seem to have much appetite.

"One o' everythin', pretty much." She curled up in the other and tucked her feet under her. There were three bags near to overflowing and she started to unpack them. "Includin' coffee." There was a good bit of precooked meat she had grabbed and heated up before coming up here, along with fruit and...she eyed a pack of brightly colored gummi things. "...those look bloody well disgustin'..."

"Dom eats those," Nathan said, staring at them. "Her and her sugary snacks--"

Moira rolled her eyes skyward. "I'm somehow nay surprised." She edged them away from herself, grumbling mentally, as she delved into another bag. There they were. "Um...'ad someone pick ye these up when they went inta town. Ye 'aven't been able ta request anythin' from th' shoppin' trips so..." Moira pressed the pasteli cookies into his hand. For some reason, he loved those little sesame seeds and honey things.

Nathan blinked at them, a wave of bittersweet nostalgia piercing the haze. "Tyler used to love these," he said quietly. "Did I ever tell you that?"

The rustling in the bags stopped as Moira lifted her head to look at him. "Nay, ye dinnae." He rarely talked about Tyler actually; the few times had been painful talks. Not like this.

The detachment was still mostly there, like a protective shield between him and the memories, and for some reason he found himself going on, telling her more. "I used to keep a bag in my desk," he murmured. "He would come in and give me this mournful, 'Please, Daddy, could I have some more?' look. As if he were the most hard-done-by little kid in the world because his mother didn't let him eat sweets before dinner." He smiled very faintly. "I always gave him a couple."

She reached over and covered his hand with hers.

He barely felt it. His mind was off on another tangent now, spinning back into the past instead of the future. "He would never sit still," he heard his voice continue, still in that same soft, conversational tone. "So much energy, all the time. And then he'd just--crash, curl up and sleep. Like a puppy. I thought he was sleeping when I found them. Just for a second. I mean, I knew--but they had put him on the bed, as if he was asleep, and I didn't see the blood until I was standing over him--"

Moira didn't realize she was standing until she heard the chair nearly topple over. He wasn't looking at her but she stepped closer and slid her arms around his shoulders. She remembered the first night she had been truly sober, both of them on the floor, the pained words tumbling out. But he had never really spoken about it since then. For now, she'd just let him talk but she had this need to just hold him, so she did both.

"I should never have left them," Nathan said, nodding to himself. It was something he had acknowledged to himself over and over, but he had never said it aloud before. "It was a mistake. A miscalculation. I thought they'd be safe while I got us a flight out. Never thought the retrieval team would hit them in a public hotel."

This was actually a little scarier than the vision from the other day. Not much was coming over the link and -that- worried her. #...I'm sorry.#

Nathan stared down at the bag of pasteli, watching his hand clenching and unclenching around it as if of its own accord. There was a scar across the back of that hand, jagged and white. It was from that day. He had mostly shielded himself as he'd crashed through the window of the hotel room and fallen into the pool four stories below, bullets flying around him as the retrieval team tried to finish the job, but a piece of the glass had cut his hand. He blinked, suddenly flashing on the moment he had been struggling underwater, trying to shake off the stunning force of the impact and get back to the surface. There had been blood in the water around him--

Moira stiffened, eyes clenching tightly as the images and memories spilled across the link. It was like a dam had broken and all she could do was wait it out. Her hands unconsciously clenched Nathan's shoulders as she saw his family, saw him fall. The memories of pain, anger and loss flooded her mind and she whimpered. And the smell. The memory of burning?

No...she realized too late that his memories were dredging up her own of Kevin's death and she let go of Nathan to clutch at her head. Kevin reaching for her and then the flames were everywhere. She had nearly joined him except for the arms wrapped tightly around her waist. Rory. Pulled her back, kicking and screaming and cursing him, trying to reach for her baby...

The memories rolled like a burning wave up the link, and somehow - maybe it was the conflict between her memories and his, maybe it was just chance - Nathan felt his head clearing for the first time in days. Instinctively, without sparing even a heartbeat to think about what he was doing, he reached out and pulled her down into his lap, wrapping his arms around her and moving across the link, not just sending a thought but reaching into her mind. The memories were like fireflies, he thought disjointedly, and he wrapped them up in soft darkness, pushing them back down where they belonged and simultaneously soothing Moira's thoughts back to some semblance of calm. Only when it was done did the headache hit, not the migraine his visions produced but a sharp ache that radiated upwards from the base of his skull. He took a deep, shuddering breath, tasting blood at the back of his throat.

Even as the memories cleared, she still smelled it. That horrid, burning smell. Moira wrapped her arms around Nathan's neck and held on for dear life. Slowly, the mist and memories faded but there was a God awful ache in her head. "Nathan?" It was more of a whimper than anything else and muffled through his shirt.

He couldn't seem to breathe properly. It was like there was a knot in his chest and the air couldn't get past it. His shields were open, he'd had to do it to reach out to her like that, and he could hear too much. There were voices everywhere now, and he blinked rapidly, seeing the shapes flickering in and out of existence in the room around them. Too many. They wouldn't all fit in the room--

There were voices. Moira froze, tensed up. The link was vibrating in her mind and the voices were cascading like a bloodied waterfall. This time, -she- reached like she had that first night. #Nathan!# She tightened both the physical hold and mental one and tried to push her way through.

Someone was yelling at her and she peeked over Nathan's shoulder and felt a flash of fear. An man in armor stood behind them, yelling at -her-. She didn't understand what he was saying but the intent was clear. They wanted Nathan and she was in the way. Her eyes narrowed. #Bugger. Off.# The instincts from the memories of Kevin's death were still strong right now and she acted without thinking. #-Mine-, fuck off.#

Nathan's eyes widened as he saw the children over Moira's shoulder. "~Don't turn around,~" he muttered, not realizing he'd slipped out of English. She didn't need to see children, little children with their skin blackened and their eyes gone. His arms tightened around her almost spasmodically. "~Close your eyes--~" he whispered, pleading with her.

The breath left Moira's body as she felt him squeeze but she was too busy glaring at the man behind Nathan to question him. The man was bellowing something, waving his arms around, trying to...scare her off. #Fear?# Anger beat back whatever fear she had. #I'm nay goin' anywhere, nay matter what ye try.#

The children were moving closer. One of them, the little girl he remembered from the walk, reached out a hand towards Moira's arm, her blistered lips pursed as if in concentration. Nathan was moving before he entirely realized what he was doing, half-carrying, half-dragging Moira, who yelped in protest as he pushed her into the corner, shielding her body with his.

All she could see was Nathan and the walls. Moira gasped, trying to figure out exactly -what- had happened. #Nathan?# She felt him stiffen before she realized what was happening. There was -something- coming down the link, searching, questing, trying to see what was causing so much trouble. Whatever it was wasn't happy at this intrusion. Moira whimpered, eyes wide because she *knew* that wasn't Nathan.

Nathan snarled and whirled around, keeping himself between Moira and the rest of the room. "~Go away!~" he shouted. "~Leave her alone--you don't get to touch her, stab your eyes--~"

And the red-haired woman shook her head at him as the air burst into flame around her. #Ne'ahriar mafael,# her voice said in his mind, calm and cold and implacable. She extended a hand, beckoning to him as she rose smoothly off the ground, her red robes billowing in that wind out of nowhere, almost like fire thmselves. #Shuu'hajra, mi'fratral--#

"~GO AWAY!~" he roared at her, and then cried out as she reached into his mind with fiery talons and tore down his shields again. His knees buckled and he fell, grabbing at his skull with a moan.

Moira hadn't been able to catch him as he fell but she froze as she went to him. The woman from his memories was staring right at her. "Shit." The woman's eyes flickered over her once and then she focused on Nathan again. He cried out again and that broke through to Moira. She wasn't about to deny the raw fear that raced through her, she could almost taste the bile in the back of her throat. But that wasn't the point.

With a deep breath, she stepped over him and stood in front, arms crossed. "Back. Off." Yes, that was fear coursing through her, though which one was worse she couldn't tell. Fear of what was happening or fear of losing Nathan to this...woman. Mentally she started going through the exercises that Charles had taught her, knowing full well they weren't going to do shit.

But at this point, anything was better than nothing.

'Scandium. Castigatus. Nobelium. Cura. Palladium.' Back and forth, skipping between what she remembered from Latin and the Periodic Table.

The woman shook her head, her hair whipping in the wind. "You don't understand," she said in clear, if strongly accented English. Those burning eyes bored into Moira, as if looking right into her soul. "I'm not trying to hurt him."

"Well, yer doin' a bloody fantastic job," Moira snapped, too shocked at the English to say anything else. The last time she'd been this frightened, there'd been fire as well. But this time, there was no one to drag her away.

There was anger on that fine-boned face now, anger and a sadness Moira didn't understand. "You don't understand," the woman repeated, and the fire seemed to take a shape in the air around her, something almost like wings. "Are we to go down into the dark with no one to see? No one to remember? Are we to be forgotten?"

"I may nay understand...but then again, neither does th' person yer focusin' this through!" There was movement from Nathan behind her but she had to focus on this, now. "Yer -killin'- 'im an' if'n ye think tha's a good way ta go 'bout it, then nay anyone will remember ye anyway!"

"They're killing us." The woman reached out a hand again, but not to her, and Moira heard a choked sob from behind her, where Nathan was. "They're killing us," the woman repeated, more softly. "Wiping out our name. Destroying our light."

Moira was not budging. No matter the woman’s intentions, she was hurting someone she cared for. "If'n Nathan means so much t' yer cause, then consider th' damage yer doin' ta 'im." Her head was starting to pound from all of this and she fought down the urge to throw up.

"He fights," the woman said almost gravely. "He's afraid. But he begins to understand." Without another word, she floated forward, and Moira gasped as the woman passed right through her. Like a ghost. She whirled in time to see her kneel down beside Nathan, laying a hand on his head, almost in blessing. Nathan cried out again, and the woman flickered out of existence. The room was still again, dead silent save for Nathan's labored breathing.

She dropped to her knees beside him. "Nathan? God, tell me yer okay." The fear was still there and her stomach rolled with it.

His skin was cold to the touch and he whimpered when she touched his face. "Shhh, 'tis over," she whispered, tugging him up slowly. The bitter acid taste was still in her mouth and she didn't move quickly for fearing of throwing up. "Yer safe..." She paused when he whimpered and then understanding dawned. "Nathan, I'm safe, I'm still 'ere. Look at me, see fer yerself."

He made himself obey, forced his eyes to open. The light hurt, but he focused on Moira's face, on the link. She had seen, he thought wildly. She had seen and yet she was still here, shaken but not broken. Still here. Exhaustion swept over him like a wave, trying to swamp conscious thought, but he didn't let himself give in.

"I know what's happening," he said raggedly. "I know--what she wants now."

Comments

[x-rogue.livejournal.com]

How did I miss this last night?!?! Aiie. Am so glad I found it this morning. I /loved/ this. This is excellent, you two. *locks you in a room and waits for more* Hee.