Nathan, Saturday/Sunday

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The rest of Nathan's weekend. More overheard snippets of conversation, another revelation from MacInnis, a fight, and a mystery woman.



Fight or flight. When you were being chased, the second was almost always preferable, but sometimes there was no other choice. Like now, with them hot on his heels and no immediate exit from the warehouse. He could make one, Nathan knew, but they were closing in around him, ready to take him down by any means necessary. If he wanted out, he had to go through them first.

They were good. It was a standard team - a telepath, two energy-wielders, a feral, two who had obvious physical enhancements - but they worked together smoothly, as if they had been teammates for years. Not a surprise. He was used to having the best sent after him.

But that didn't matter. He lashed out with his telekinesis, sending the telepath tumbling head over heels into a stack of boxes. Neutralize the most dangerous threat first. Then, shielding against the plasma blasts and bioelectric bolts, he retrieved the telepath's gun. Two shots, and the feral was down - not for long, Nathan knew, not if he had any kind of a healing factor.

The other four played it safe, the energy-wielders keeping their distance, the other two closing with him. Exactly what he had expected. He took a blow to the back of the head that staggered him briefly, but it gave him an opening and he seized on it. Physically enhanced or not, these two weren't invulnerable. Just hardy, and hardy didn't help against high-level telekinesis. He visualized internal damage, then did it. Exploding a heart wasn't hard at all.

He 'threw' one of the corpses at the electrokinetic, more as a distraction than anything else. It broke her concentration, and Nathan raised his gun and fired, the shot taking her right between the eyes. The plasma generator next, in the same way he'd taken care of the telepath. But his mind didn't wink out, not like the telepath's had. Didn't hit him hard enough, Nathan told himself, starting over to finish the job, only to be tackled by the feral, who apparently had a very good healing factor.

He felt the stabbing pain in his side, but managed to catch the other man's hand, twisting the wrist until the knife clattered on the floor. Damage, he needed to do so much damage that no healing factor could compensate...

The other man went limp suddenly, crumpling, and Nathan let go of him and stepped back, blinking in shock as the backlash of his death slammed against his shields. His mind had just... gone dark, as if someone had reached in and shut it off.

"Nathan," a woman's voice called, and he looked up, staring blankly at the gray-haired woman standing over by one of the doors. She was keeping her distance, but he started to back away as he got a sense of her presence. Something about her suggested 'telepath', but also 'empath'... she was definitely an empath... "It's all right," she said, not moving towards him. "I'm a friend."

But empaths weren't friends, he thought, backing away further. Empaths were never friends...

She was looking around at the bodies, shaking her head. "My poor kids," she murmured, her voice full of pain. Nathan flinched, taking another step back, but there was no condemnation in her eyes as she looked up at him. Only sadness. "I'm so sorry," she said heavily, her eyes moving to his side. "You're bleeding badly, Nathan. We need to look at it."

The words were the last thing he heard.






"...idiotic idea, sending him... could have been killed..."

"Not much option... need real security, or one of these days..."

His whole side was numb. He could feel someone doing... something, but there wasn't any pain.

"...interruption going to matter?"

"Of course it is... start over... fucking Ruiz, we need to do something..."

"...too well protected..."

The voices softened to a buzz, then he stopped hearing them entirely.






"Did I tell you I was there for your graduation?"

Nathan raised the glass of water, sipped at it. Slowly, she had told him. "No," he finally said, when MacInnis stared at him expectantly from across the table. "You were watching?" Graduation at Mistra meant the Trial, a days-long test designed to push your limits in every possible way. Close combat, escape and evasion, strategy... the survival rate was about fifty percent.

MacInnis nodded. "Your record still stands, far as I know," he said.

"Am I supposed to be proud?" He had meant to snap the question, but the words came out in that same neutral tone. He felt... remote, for lack of a better word. As if he couldn't quite connect to the world around him.

"You were the best," MacInnis said, and there was something close to sadness in his eyes. "You were the best that ever came out of that training program, and they haven't been able to replace you. That's why they still want you back."

"Then why did they throw me away in the first place?"

MacInnis nodded, never breaking eye contact. "Politics," he said. "Fucking office politics. Two directors keeping things from each other. The intel didn't get to your team, the ones who needed it."

"Politics," Nathan murmured, sipping at his water again. He sensed them approaching from behind him, and looked at MacInnis, shaking his head. "No," he said, and it came out almost as a plea.

"She needs to finish the job, Nate. It's for the best."

"No," he muttered almost defiantly. But his head was very heavy, and he let it rest on the table, closing his eyes.






"Hold him down!"

Hands restraining him as he thrashed, swearing at them in every language he knew. #MOIRA!# he screamed along the link, or tried to. Something was blocking it, a wall he couldn't get through no matter how hard he tried.

"Fuck the IV, just get the mask!"

Something was forced over his face, and his mind grasped desperately at everything in the room. There were crashing, shattering noises, and he heard someone cry out, a short sound, abruptly cut off, and then someone else was cursing. Hands grabbed his head from above, and Nathan screamed into the mask, convulsing against the other hands restraining him as someone sliced through his shields and cut him off from his telekinesis.

He went limp against the table, trying to catch his break. But the mask was still on his face, and the smell was... he knew the smell, it...

"...all right?!?"

"...hits like a truck..."

"...lucky, so damned lucky..."

"...Nathan? Just relax, honey..."






The jewelry box hit the floor, and Nathan stared down at it for a moment, his bag in one hand, the keys he had been looking for in the other.

"Whoops," she said, bending to pick it up. Straightening, she opened it and smiled. "Is this for Moira?" Nathan nodded slowly, and her smile grew. "I'm so happy for you," she said, her dark eyes warm and approving. "Here, put it in your pocket. You don't want to lose it."

He obeyed, and once he had, she reached up, touching the side of his face lightly. "Go home," she told him gently. "Try and stay out of trouble?"

"All right," he said a bit uncertainly, and then turned towards the door. MacInnis was there waiting for him.






"Why?" Nathan asked as MacInnis stopped the car and peered in the rear-view mirror to make sure the other was pulling in behind them on the side of the road.

"Why what, son?"

"Why..." Not being able to think straight wasn't a cliche sometimes. "Why... this?" Nathan asked vaguely.

MacInnis half-turned in the driver's seat, facing him as directly as he could. "Because," he said evenly. "I made the decision a long time ago to do what I could."

Nathan looked at him, blinking. "You did something to me," he said slowly. "She did." MacInnis nodded, and the flash of anger he felt was so distant that he might have imagined it. "I can't remember," he said, and it came out as a statement of fact, not an accusation.

"You're not supposed to, son. You're supposed to go home to your lady doctor and live your life." MacInnis smiled faintly. "Just... be careful. Don't go meeting any more strangers promising you information. They're not all going to be as benevolent as me."

"Wait..." Nathan protested half-heartedly as MacInnis reached over and opened the car door.

"We're on a timeframe here, Nathan," MacInnis said, looking back at him. "Once we're gone, you shift over and drive yourself the rest of the way back to Xavier's." He reached out, squeezing Nathan's arm for a moment. "I'm proud of you," he said a bit huskily. "Not just because you've made it for this long. You're the only one who ever tried to help one of the others." He said something else then, words that weren't intelligible - or weren't English? - and Nathan's mind went blank.

He didn't register MacInnis leaving the car, closing the door behind him. He didn't see the other car go. For five minutes he sat there, waiting. Then he slid over into the driver's seat and pulled back onto the road.

Time to go home.