xp_logs | Nathan and Moira, Monday afternoon

Set after this log. Nathan tries to pull himself together, Moira tries to help.

When the door finally shut, after Moira had convinced Cain she and Nathan would be fine, she rushed back to Nathan's side. He lay sprawled on the bed where Cain had put him down, rather gently, and she picked up his hand. This was one of those times were she knew better than to reach out to the link unless he made contact first. Charles had warned her that there might be some heavy backlash involved. The only reason she hadn't been knocked for a loop, or worse, was Charles' protective wrapping around the link and her mind.

Carefully, she started to undress him as much as she could. Shoes, socks for a start. The shirt Moira would need him awake for. But she settled for trying to move him further up the bed. Reacting like this took her mind off the stark fear in her gut and the worries that seemed to nearly overwhelm her at times.

He felt her there, somehow, through the pain and the screaming emptiness in his mind. He tried to say her name, but he couldn't find his voice, and just the thought of reaching out to the link hurt horribly.

She paused in her struggles to move him higher when she saw his mouth move slightly. Gently, she eased a pillow under his head and sat next to him. Knowing contact opened the link even wider than normal, she took one of his hands in both of hers. "Nathan?" she murmured, stroking his hand. "Come on back, love. I know 'tis 'urts." Very carefully, she disregarded Charles' warnings and tentatively reached for the link. Just a light touch, that was all.

A sob caught deep in his throat as he felt the tug at his mind, and the pain rose up like a wave, trying to blot out what little coherent thought remained to him. The emptiness screamed louder, as if defying her presence in his mind, and for an instant he felt like he was caught between the two extremes, feeling the pull from both sides.

With a cry, Moira jerked her head back and nearly dropped the hold on his hand. The pain had slammed into the link almost in anger and she blinked back sudden tears. "Nathan?" She reached with one hand and touched his face. "Ye know me, Nathan, let me in, please." Something deep inside her told her reaching out was a good thing so she followed her gut instinct and touched the link again, no matter how much it hurt.

#...moira...# Pulling him back, as if by sheer force of will alone. She was alive, alive and so much stronger than the shadows and ghosts. #...moira, shouldn't have... shouldn't...# He couldn't put the words together into anything coherent, and he couldn't see, still, just spots and stars...

#Shhh. 'Tis okay, Nathan.# She frowned and then imagined the link in her mind, like a warm thread of snlight, and reached out, caressing it lightly. #I'm 'ere...grab ont' me if'n ye need t'.#

Nathan closed his eyes for a moment, trying desperately to focus on her. He had thought of her as a light, with Manuel, and that was what she was now. But still so far away, even as she tugged at him. Like a star instead of the sun, and the undertow was still doing its best to drag him under. #...talk to me,# he thought feverishly, hoping she heard him. #...talk to me, tell me... manuel? amanda, I heard amanda...#

The hand holding his tightened slightly and she continued rubbing his cheek gently. #They're fine, Nathan. Ye--did good. But ye've got t' come out o' this or I'll 'ave ta dra' ye back out." Moira hesitated and thought quickly for something to talk about to bring him back. #Remember tha' one time ye were visitin' an' we were in me study? Ye were sprawled on th' floor, relaxin' after God knows wha' ye'd been through an' I fell asleep in front o' th' fire. I woke up t' find ye, nay matter 'ow jumpy ye were, carryin' me ta me room? D' ye know tha' was th' first time in many, many years I'd felt safe an' comfortable, Nathan?#

The memory was crystal-clear on the link, soft and soothing, no edges to it at all. Nathan felt himself falling into it and was back there. She was lighter than he had expected, he remembered, and the trust and contentment in her thoughts as they had washed gently against his shields had been almost...

He opened his eyes, saw her face as she bent over him. Blurry, but there. Alive and well and there... He could feel her holding his hand, and she made a gasping sound that might have been a sob as he reached up with his free hand, falling just short of her face as his strength deserted him. #Hurts,# he sent weakly. And it did, as if someone had taken a blowtorch to the inside of his head.

#Ye'll be okay, it'll go away soon,# she murmured over the link, grabbing the hand that fell and bringing it up to her cheek. #What can I do t' make it go away faster?#

All of the walls inside his mind were down, blasted into rubble. His shields were holding, but were shaky. "T-Talk t'--me," he managed, aloud this time, although the words came out slurred. "Don't go..."

When he switched to talking out loud, so did she. "I'm nay goin' anywhere, never, nay as lon' as ye need me." Moira pressed a kiss to the back of his hand and sighed softly. "Ye remind me o' me da at times. Did I ever tell ye tha'? Bot' so imposin' but in a good way. Force o' personality is wha' 'e called it. Me mum called it somethin' else but never in polite company. 'e...'e would 'ave liked ye so verra much." Babbling, she knew she was babbling badly. But her mind was running in circles and she didn't know what to talk about.

Nathan started to shiver. Reaction, maybe. "Wish... I wish I could have..." His teeth were chattering too hard to finish the sentence.

"So do I," she murmured, grabbing the small blanket at the end of the bed and unfolded it. Moira bit her lip and then shrugged mentally. It couldn't hurt...carefully, she climbed into the bed next to him and pulled the blanket over the both of them. Slowly, she draped an arm over him, running a soothing hand on his chest. "Try relaxin', love, jus' listen t' me voice, aye?"

"Didn't think... that it would be this bad," he whispered, his eyes blurring again, this time with tears he couldn't seem to hold back. They trickled down his cheeks steadily, and he choked on the next words. "Didn't think... so stupid, thought I could h-handle it..."

Reaching up, she wiped the tears again gently. "'ow're ye supposed t' know, Nathan?" Moira said quietly. "I'm 'ere for ye, though, remember tha' an' 'opefully tha'll make thin's easier."

Every word from her was bringing him a little farther back, and maybe that was a good thing, but it was also bringing him closer and closer to the point where he would have to admit what he was feeling, the dominant emotion that was there, tearing through him, as overwhelming as the pain.

Tyler! Ty, get down! Aliya's scream echoed in his mind and again, he saw his son thrown off the bed by the bullets that slammed into his small body. Heard her scream, and remembered that she had called his name more than that once, before the end. She had called his name as she saw their son die. Called his name and cursed it...

Moira jerked back as if seered as the mental images tumbled over the link as if a damn had broke. And maybe it had. "O' God, Nathan," she moaned softly, unable to stop the tears. Knowing he needed her, she wrapped her arms back around him tightly. She had known a good deal but not that last part with Aliya. No wonder he had all that guilt and pain in him.

She made soothing sounds as he suddenly managed to roll over and buried his head in her shoulder. "It'll be okay, I promise," Moira told him, cuddling him gently. Soothingly, she ran her hands up and down his back, trying to get him to relax enough to sleep. Though she knew it would take a while, she kept it up, murmuring meaningless words into his ear, knowing he didn't want anything but the sound of her voice.