xp_logs | Nathan and Moira, Saturday night

Moira's turn to remind Nathan not to give up. Between her and Marie, he actually starts to listen.

It took nearly ten minutes for Moira to stop shaking after Marie-Ange had left and another twenty after that for her to stop sniffling into the back of Nathan's shirt. He was still completely sound asleep but had started to stir, right as she started to get herself back together again. It had been a very long, very trying few days and Angie's news had unsettled her more than she had admitted. When she raised her head from where she had been resting it on Nathan, she could tell it was slightly damp and cursed softly.

Neither of them could afford for her to break down, especially now. With a grimace, she tried to ease away, to give him the sleep she knew he needed.

Pulling away, Nathan thought, caught between his own troubled dreams and the sea of memories still trying to snatch him with its undertow. She was pulling away, and that was best, maybe. But the thought sent a wave of desolation through him, pulling him back to some semblance of wakefulness. His eyes fluttered open and he stared up at the ceiling.

The link reverberated with Nathan's despair and she caught some of the thoughts. With a curse not aimed at anyone in particular, Moira stopped trying to move away and laid her head back down. "Stop tha', I'm nay goin' anywhere," she murmured at him.

"That makes one of us," he whispered. Any other day, it might have been a black joke. Part of him meant it as that, even now. But that wasn't how it came across.

"An' neither are ye!" That came out sharper than she had intended but she didn't regret it. She'd been caught between the verge of tears and true anger all day. Better anger than tears, especially with Marie-Ange's visit still fresh in her mind.

Nathan turned his head, staring at her. "Right," he said softly, without any real conviction. She wanted to bend the world into the shape she wanted, but iron will or not, there were some things a single person couldn't do.

With some effort, Moira heaved herself up on one elbow and glared down at him. "Aye, right. Yer nay, even if ye dinnae bloody damn well believe it!"

Nathan looked up at her dully. There was screaming in the back of his mind again, too high-pitched to be anything but children's voices. "I don't know what to believe anymore," he muttered.

"Then believe *me*, ye dumb ass." Oh yes, that was anger all right, bubbling up from deep inside. He was giving up, she could feel him giving up and it scared her to death. So she lashed out, trying to get him to respond. Responding meant some spark of life, after all.

He pushed himself up to a sitting position, shifting backwards so that he could lean against the headboard. "I don't think it matters," he said, his voice breaking.

"Wha' doesnae matter?"

"Whether or not I get angry. I don't think it matters."

"Sooo, does *anythin'* matter?" Muttering to herself, Moira rolled up and got on her knees in front of him. The lake outside was looking rather promising right about now.

"Not to them," Nathan murmured, staring numbly at her. "Can you blame them? Everything that's happening... I don't matter much in the face of that."

"Th' bloody 'ell ye dinnae!" Moira leaned forward and jabbed him in the chest, hard. "If ye give up on me, so 'elp me God, I will kick yer ass so fuckin' 'ard tha' damned woman in yer visions will feel it, do ye understand? I. Am. Nay. Lettin'. Ye. Give. Up."

Nathan winced at the jab, raising a defensive hand as she looked like she was preparing to do it again. "Why is everyone accusing me of giving up today?" he asked exhaustedly.

"Because ye are?" She tapped her head. "'i, linked ta yer stubborn ass, remember? 'Tis been so full o' despair an'...an' jus'...dinnae know 'ow ta explain it." Moira settled back on her heels, arms loosely drapped over her knees. "It jus' feels like ye've stopped fightin'." And *that* scared her. Nathan never gave up, ever. He was too stubborn to stop. But with all the feelings bouncing around in her head, she'd been so afraid he'd decided enough was enough.

"I'm just so tired, Moira," he said unsteadily. "And I don't know how to fight... what to do..."

She held out her hands. "Dinnae stop, ever. Lean on me if ye 'ave ta but fer God's sake, dinnae stop." Her voice cracked and Moira swallowed hard and blinked back the tears.

He reached out and took her hands. "It's so hard," he said wearily. "I'm not used to being so weak."

"Wha' did I say in me journal today," she mused, linking their hands. "T' be truely stron', ye 'ave t' know when ta be weak?"

Nathan swallowed hard. "I never learned when to bend," he said thickly. "They never taught us how to back down. Only to stand fast. If you broke, you broke, but you didn't compromise."

"Quite th' pair we are, love. But if'n I'm tryin' ta learn, then ye can too. 'Tis nay so 'ard, ye jus' 'ave ta realize people will catch ye when ye fall."

"It's not fair," he whispered, his eyes stinging with tears. A wild edge entered his voice as he went on, and part of him stood back, appalled at the words that were coming out of his mouth. "It's not fair, Moira... why me, why the fuck does it have to be me?"

"Ohhh, Nathan..." Moira quickly closed the gap between them and curled her arms around him. "I dinnae know, I wish I did. I wish, wit' everythin' I am, it wasnae."

Nathan let his breath out on a harsh, broken sigh, holding onto her. Tears were trickling down his face, but he was barely aware of them. "I'm not a fatalist," he whispered into her hair. "I'm not. I just... I don't know what to do..."

"I know. Jus' dinnae give up," she whispered back, holding him tightly. "I know 'tis 'ard an' scary an' God, I wish it were anybody else. But ye're stron' an' when yer not, I'll be stron' for ye. I was so scared ye'd give up..."

"Don't think I'm allowed," he said with a hollow little laugh, shivering.

Moira raised her head and reached up to brush the tears away. "If'n ye mean tha' by referrin' ta me, aye, yer right. If ye mean *her*...well, she can go fuck off someplace in th' future, all quiet like," she said, fiercely.

Nathan leaned back against the pillows, pulling her with him. "I'll try," he whispered hoarsely. "When she comes back for me... I'll try." Try what, he didn't know, but he would. Something. Somehow. "I don't want to leave you..." he trailed off miserably.

"Ye won't. I'll pull ye back kickin' an' screamin' if I 'ave ta but ye won't." Moira tucked her head under her chin. "Ye said She doesnae like me...maybe we'll use tha' ta our advantage next time, aye?" Not that she could do much but the woman from the future seemed to have a certain dislike for her. It tossed an unknown into the mix and perhaps, she thought, they could use that to their advantage.

Nathan sighed heavily, closing his eyes. It crossed his mind to say something about seeing her in the morning, but that wouldn't come out right, he knew that already. "I love you," he murmured instead, his voice cracking. "Remember that."

She brushed her lips against his chin and smiled. "Always, lon' as ye remember tha' I love ye."