xp_logs | Logs: Sarah, Nathan, Rahne

After his conversation with Manuel, Nathan tries to take out his frustrations on a punching bag. Sarah appears, and the two talk briefly about how one vents. If anything, though, it makes Nathan's state of mind worse.

The punching bag wasn't hard enough. It gave a little, every time he hit it, and so the pain wasn't enough, although it was getting there, given that he had been doing this for a while. Gritting his teeth, Nathan kept hammering at it, over and over, wishing he dared go over and start punching the wall. The wall would be better. Harder.

"It'd be so much better if you could make it bleed, wouldn't it?" The words came out before Sarah'd really thought about whether it's wise to bother him now, but she didn't seem all that concerned about it. She turned to throw her towel and a water bottle to the floor, revealing a line of jagged bones along her spine. "I know I want it to bleed sometimes. More satisfying."

Nathan whirled around, shock exploding through him, and he held back a telekinetic response by the sin of the teeth. He hadn't sensed her, he thought blankly, staring at her. He hadn't sensed her come in. He raised a shaking hand, wiping his eyes. Sweat... no, sweat and tears, he realizes, distantly embarassed.

"I--" He stopped, tried again as his voice cracked. "I didn't hear you come in."

"You were busy." She shrugged, plopping down onto the floor to stretch. She noted his distressed look, but didn't ask questions. She doesn't want people asking questions when she's trying to beat the hell out of the punching bag, and she's perfectly willing to extend the favor.

Nathan turned back to the punching bag. "I should have heard you," he muttered. "I'm supposed to be a fucking telepath..." The thought made him laugh, another one of those horrible-sounding barks of laughter with absolutely no humor in it at all, and fury flooded up on its heels and choked him. Spitting an Askani curse, he lashed out at the punching bag again, harder.

Sarah watched the bag give each time he hit it, swaying helplessly under the force. Standing up, she slowly made her way to the bag, making sure he saw her coming this time. "I can hold it for you," she started, "so it doesn't give so much."

"Thank--thank you," he forced himself to say, and waited until she got a firm grip on the bag before he started again. He had to be more careful, now. More restrained. Couldn't let his telekinesis out, or he might knock the bag off its moorings and slam her into a wall. But Manuel's words kept echoing back and forth in his mind, and he distantly felt tears trickling down his face again as the pace of his punches picked up.

Sarah braced herself against the floor as she pushed back against the force of Nathan's punches, "Don't worry about hurting me," she added, watching him with a dark expression, "Unless you manage to blow the fucking room up, I'll be fine."

Eventually, the pain started to get to something approaching the level he wanted--needed. The ache spread up his arms, and even his bruised ribs began to protest. He couldn't seem to catch his breath properly. Out of shape, he thought dizzily. Lying around too much, and doing nothing right when you're not, nothing that makes any difference at all. Just being selfish and pushing your fears on others and ignoring the truth--

The next blow came from inside, not just his fist, and the bag did go flying off its moorings, taking Sarah with it. His knees buckled and he was on the floor before he registered the fact that he was falling. "Fuck," he whispered raggedly, burying his face in his hands. He was distantly aware of Sarah coming back to her feet, and knew he should be apologizing, but all that came out was a string of Askani profanities in a choked voice, all of them directed at himself.

She was actually surprised that the bag hadn't gone sooner, but the extra time had given her enough of a head start to armor up before she got sent crashing into the gym wall. Broken chips of her armor hit the mat as she stumbled back to her feet, arm clinging to the wall as if there was something to hold there that would help her up. She stood there quietly for a minute watching him before she finally made her way over to the floor in front of him with a slight limp. "Nate?"

Nathan raised his head, wiping at his eyes. "Are you all right?" he asked dully as she sank down in front of him. "I'm sorry I did that." The words came out lifeless, as if by rote. Inwardly, part of him was still screaming, wanting to sink through the floor or... or something, and he wasn't sure how he had managed to block the link, why Moira wasn't sensing anything. But that was good, because he couldn't have looked at her right now, not knowing... not thinking about how he had...

Sarah nodded, slightly bloody hands resting on her legs. In a few minutes, you'd never know she'd been bleeding. She situated herself as close to eye level with him as she could, and gave him a very determined-like look. He must be getting used to those by now. "Of course I am. I told you that you weren't going to hurt me. Especially not by throwing me against the wall. It didn't work in the tunnels, and it sure as fuck isn't going to work here. So don't worry about me."

Nathan took a shaky breath, and looked down at his hands. They looked slightly less bad than they had when Moira had dragged him off to Lake George. Pity. "It doesn't really help, in the end," he said raggedly. "I used to have--more exotic ways of doing this. Venting, I mean. They never really worked either, though."

"You have to try something though, whether it works or not." Trust her, she knows. One hand pushed hair away from her face, the other remained idly on her leg. "Found anything that works?"

"Tried drinking myself into insensibility a few times." He smiled mirthlessly. "Didn't work so well. I'm a nasty drunk, and combined with the telekinesis that's a recipe for disaster."

Sarah gives him an amused smile, considering the sort of things Nathan got up to when drunk that could be considered disasterous. She shrugged, and gave him a thoughtful look. "So that's out... anything else?"

"Went through a bungee-jumping phase," Nathan said wearily. "Also a base-jumping phase. Climbed K2 solo, without oxygen. Did HALO jumps for fun. Found the roughest bars in the world and insulted the mothers of the nastiest-looking patrons. I could go on."

"And more out. Sounds fun though," Sadly, she's very serious. She sat there quietly for a moment, not sure what to say next. She never said she was good at the whole making people feel better thing.

Nathan looked up at her, managing a bleak smile. "What I would really like to do right now is blow something up, but I gather that's frowned upon here."

"I dunno, you could probably go out to the edge of the grounds and find something nobody would miss. If it helps, I say go for it."

"I could go out to the quarry, I guess. Blow up rocks." Nathan gave a tired laugh, his shoulders slumped. "Don't think I'd make it out there. Damn, I could have picked a better day for this than my first out of the medlab after having been dead again."

"Alright, I'll bite. What the hell happened?" She rested her elbows on her knees, trying to catch his eyes again.

"I tried to give someone advice," he said after a long moment. "Oldest mistake in the book." He looked up at her finally, trying to figure out what he was sensing from her, what he saw in her eyes. But he was too tired, and his head felt like it was full of cobwebs. "Have you ever--" He trailed off, struggling to gather his thoughts, and then tried again. "Have you ever thought you were doing the right thing, only to find out that you should have kept your fucking mouth shut?"

Tried to give 'someone' advice. Well that was unhelpful. She supposed she'd hear about it later. She grinned, rolling her eyes up to the ceiling. "Yeah. It's a pain in the ass, isn't it? Cause no matter how much you regret it, there's still that little part of you that knows you're right."

"I don't know that I was," Nathan muttered. "I thought... " He laughed bitterly, rubbing at his hands. "I thought I knew what I was talking about. I was trying to tell Manuel about psi-links... how dangerous they could be when you don't know what you're doing. Even when you do." Another laugh slipped out, edged with hysteria this time. "As if I have any fucking business trying to advise another psi on what to do with their powers."

Yeah, just like Sarah has any business talking people out of nervous breakdowns. "Well it's over now.. and there's not much you can do to change it. So... moving on?"

Hearing the faint discomfort in her voice, he looked up again, meeting her eyes. "You don't need to listen to any of this," he said, his voice twisting with self-loathing. "Hell, I'm not sure why you are. How long was I here before I flew off the handle and threatened you?"

"Normally I go by 'If it doesn't cooperate, hit it', so I'm probably not going to be the most help in a situation like this. 's not because I don't want to." She rolled her eyes again. "About as long as it took me to threaten to take people's internal organs out alphabetically, when I first got here. It only took a few months before I sent somebody to the medlab. So quit beating yourself up over it."

"I used to go by that rule," Nathan said drearily, hauling himself back to his feet. "I miss it." He went over to examine where the punching bag had been. The damage wasn't too bad, and he levitated the bag back, then went to work securing it. "I'm really not this much of a drama queen, usually. But I've been having a bad year." The humor fell a little flat, and he deliberately didn't look in Sarah's direction.

"It happens." She stood up, a little stiff from earlier, but no longer limping, and started stretching out again.

He finished fussing with the punching bag. "Thanks for... listening, anyway," he said dully, glancing sideways at her but suddenly, painfully aware of an acute need to get away, get out. Not just away from her, but from everyone. Outside in the open, where there were no walls that could close in on him.

"Welcome." She wasn't really paying attention anymore, in her training mindset where nothing else was important. "You need to knock something into a wall again, I'll be here for awhile."

Nathan looked back at her, almost enviously. "Good night, Sarah," he murmured, and left.

After that, and leaving a message for Moira, Nathan takes refuge outside in the gazebo, unable to tolerate the mansion any longer.

It was quiet. Quiet and cool, and Nathan stretched out on the bench in the gazebo, something close to a strangled sob escaping him. The wood was cold, but he closed his burning eyes, ignoring the way the chill seemed to seep through his clothes and into his body. He was alone, and that was all that was important.

Alone. He felt as if there was a yawning pit underneath his feet, waiting to swallow him if he made a single misstep. And part of him wanted to give in, to fall... it would be so much easier than this constant, unsuccessful balancing act, lurching from one crisis to another. One failure of will to another. The tightness in his chest was suddenly unbearable, and Nathan fought back another sob. He was not going to fall apart, damn it, he told himself feverishly. He was not.

The wind rustled through the trees, and Nathan shivered, raising a shaking hand to tug the zipper of his coat the rest of the way up. He should have dressed more warmly, but he had been on the verge of losing it, writing that note to Moira, and he'd known that he had to get out of the room before he woke her up.

Besides. He was used to the cold, after a childhood in Alaska... No! Damn it, no! He swore weakly under his breath, throwing an arm across his eyes and taking a deep, shuddering breath. No more poking at old sores, he told himself miserably. The past was the past. It was the present where he was struggling, and the future that was trying to eat him alive. The past was just his excuse for failing to cope.

No one asked Moira if she wanted hers, I'll bet, but no one's knocking down your door to preach at you about the dangers, and how much you're going to fuck up her brain... Manuel's voice echoed in his mind. Only the truth, as painful as it had been to hear. The truth, and he was a hypocrite, a selfish, hypocritical bastard who shouldn't be here, who shouldn't...

It was taking everything he had to keep the link blocked, to keep the waves and waves of pain and desolation from waking Moira. He couldn't chance that. Couldn't face her. Not now. He shifted around on the bench, folding his arms and resting his head on them.

The link is a gift - from her to me. It is a wonder, a blessing. You would have me treat it like a curse, something to be burned out at the roots. Is it that I am not worthy, while you are?

"Other way around, Manuel," Nathan whispered almost feverishly, and squeezed his eyes shut, wishing vainly for unconsciousness.

Hours later, Rahne, out in the rain in her wolf-form, finds him...

It was raining. The sound should have been soothing, but it jarred him out of his doze, and he stared up at the roof of the gazebo. Still dark, he thought dimly, wondering how long he had been out here. Not that it mattered, he told himself, shifting on the bench and closing his eyes again.

Then he heard something else, something that sounded like footsteps in the wet grass, but not quite--right, and he opened his eyes again, vaguely aware, despite his attempt to close out everything, of a very particular presence approaching.

Rahne had gone outside early to nap as a wolf -- her newest roommate was a little... trying -- and had woken up very wet, though not as uncomfortable with it as she would have expected. Still, she was definitely going to need a proper shower in the morning, and she was heading toward the gazebo to take stock of herself when she caught a person's scent on the moisture-heavy air.

She halted, indecisive, but then continued on. *Why* was he out at this hour? Well, not that she could talk....

She trotted quietly but not too quietly up to the doorway and poked her muzzle around the frame.

Nathan sat up slowly, ignoring the dizziness. "Hello, Rahne," he said very quietly, seeing the wolf. He could keep it together while she was here, he told himself. After all the masks he had worn over the years...

Rahne felt the urge to shake once she was under cover and politely stepped as far back as possible first, then came forward again and put her head to one side, wagging her tail a bit. She probably ought to shift so she could speak....

He smelled upset.

"Not a n-nice night to be out," Nathan said, unable to find the energy to curse himself for the telltale stammer. He rubbed at his eyes, wondering just how good Rahne's vision was in her wolf form. "I know you've got your own fur coat, but still..."

He almost seemed to be glowing faintly to her eyes, as it happened. Rahne blinked at realizing that: she'd known she seemed to see more colors instead of the less she thought dogs were supposed to see, but glowing people? She looked back over her own shoulder. The same, but dimmer. Not his powers then. Body heat? Her fur would keep it in.

She looked up at Nathan and blinked again at the sudden impulse to jump up on the bench and curl up beside him. That probably wouldn't go over so well even if she were dry. With one of the children, maybe. So she gave in and shifted to a transitional form, keeping the fur coat heavy. "Aye, well, 'twasn't raining when I came out." Her voice always sounded odd like this; she tried clearing her throat, which never did anything. "And yui're out too... though at least not in the wet."

Nathan didn't blink as she shifted. "I don't think it was raining when I came out either," he said uncertainly, looking away so that she wouldn't see him struggling to keep his expression under control. "Glad I found this, though."

"Aye, 'tis a nice wee place... and dry, or at least was until I came in." She hesitated a little. "...Are ye well? Ye seem.... Och. Will ye be offended if I say ye smell agitated?"

"I... I'm okay," Nathan said, the unsteadiness in his voice giving the lie to his words. "I just... I couldn't be in the mansion any more tonight. I had to get out."

Rahne bit her lip. "I was... a wee bit restless, myself." An awkward pause. "I can go again if ye like. Or bring ye something. Blankets?"

His eyes were burning. He rubbed at them again, almost frantically. "Will you... will you answer a question for me?" he asked awkwardly.

"If I can...." She advanced a step, worried.

"Moira," Nathan said, almost inaudibly. "Since I've been here... since she and I... has she seemed happy at all, Rahne?" His voice was breaking, and he felt helpless tears trickling down his face, but he forced himself to go on. "When I'm not there, when she doesn't have to put on an act... have you seen her look happy? I've put her through so much, Rahne, I just..." No more words would come, and he sank his face into his hands, shaking.

Rahne froze for a moment -- she hadn't expected him to start crying, didn't know what to do -- but then she found she'd sat down on the bench next to him and was hovering just short of trying to hug him. She caught herself and hunted for words instead. "I've -- I've thought she's seemed happy, aye. Worried sometimes -- but happy about ye, and with ye, and not wanting to lose ye. I'd say happier when ye *were* there, at least when ye were well, but I'd not call it an act." She smiled a little, tentatively, though he wasn't looking at her. "I s'pose I'm the naive one -- and I'm no in the Speech class or such -- but it seemed true enough to me. And I can -- some -- people smell different when they're well or ill or happy or not, though I'm only working that out some now."

Nathan wiped his eyes, trying to smile. "I see why she thinks so highly of you," he said, his voice still wavering as he looked down at the girl.

"...Well it cannae be that I've sense enough to come in out of the rain." Rahne reached to pat his shoulder gingerly.

It was comforting, more than it perhaps should have been, but whether it was his exhaustion or the state of his emotions, he just couldn't consider the girl sitting beside him a threat. "I think I need to start trying to accept the fact that I don't know what I'm doing," he murmured wistfully. The rain was still falling, but gently. "I'm just... not used to caring about the mistakes I make with people. There have been so few people I've cared about, for so long..."

"That sounds... lonesome." Or more likely perhaps very disturbing, but perhaps both. And she liked him, whether it made any sense or not -- of course, violent partiality to the Lady Moira never hurt that. "Can I ask what happened? Or is it just....."

"Trying too hard," Nathan said after a moment, with a heavy sigh. He stared out into the rain, surreptitiously rubbing at his eyes again. "I was trying to help someone. Not Moira... but I was so sure I knew best. Didn't expect them to point out all the ways I was wrong and then tell me truths I wasn't ready to face."

"Oh." This left Rahne pretty much as clueless as she had been before. "...I donnae really know what to say or ask," she said quietly after a bit. "I'd ask about hugging ye, but my fur's still all wet."

"I won't melt," Nathan said hoarsely, after a moment.

Well, it wasn't that cold a night. Rahne scooched a bit closer and wrapped her arms around him. "....Ye probably shouldna stay out if I get ye all wet," she observed diffidently.

Nathan noticed she smelled faintly of wet dog. He laughed weakly, closing his eyes for a moment. It wasn't wrong to take comfort when it was offered, he tried to convince himself. Coming from Rahne, it was sincere - so sincere he could almost taste it - and he felt so terrible at the moment...

"I'll go in," he muttered. "Promise. Suppose I shouldn't be out here trying to catch a cold or something on my first night out of the medlab."

"'Tisna that cold. But aye." She looked down at herself without really letting go. "I suppose I should get cleaned up, myself."

"We'll both go in," he said, with an unsteady smile. It was all he could manage, as far as he could pull himself back. It would have to be enough. "I'm... really glad you were out here, Rahne."

"...I am too then." Though she couldn't really see where she'd've done much good. She did succumb to the urge to shift back to wolf form, stand on the bench, and lick his cheek quickly before dropping back to the ground.

He touched his cheek gently, then followed her out into the rain.