xp_logs | Nathan and Marie, Nathan and Askani - The Cassandra Complex, part two (Friday afternoon)

On his rush downstairs, Nathan runs into Marie, who escorts him to the Box and encourages him to stay strong. Once safely there, he calls Askani, and lets her show him. Everything.

Falling down the stairs was not going to solve anything, Nathan told himself, but he couldn't make himself slow down, not even with his side protesting every step, stitches threatening to give way again. Didn't matter. He had to get downstairs, to the psi-shielded room where he could do this safely, where no one could get in the middle, or get hurt if he lost control... Reaching the bottom of the stairs safely, he rushed around the corner in the direction of the elevator, and only trained instincts let him jerk sideways at the last minute and miss running right over Marie.

Marie, even lost in thought, was alert to the sound of pounding feet and was looking up when Nathan rounded the corner. The moment she saw him, she dropped her laptop and papers to the ground and reached for him - half to absorb the impact, half to keep him from keeling over. He dodged at the last moment and she only got one hand on his arm.

"Nathan!" He looked terrible, fevered. "Where are you going?"

He gave himself a moment to catch his breath, only until he could manage words. "Psi-shielded room," he gasped out, part of him grateful for the supporting hand but the rest of him screaming at him to pull away and just go, go now... "Have to. Right now, Marie. She's coming and it has to be there, where it's safe."

Marie knew better than to ask questions. She slid one arm around Nathan and hit the button for the elevator. "Okay, Nate. We'll get you there." She was calm in the face of his panic. Nothing could go faster than it was going right now and Nathan was going to hurt himself if he kept this up.

The elevator door slid shut behind them as they stepped in, and he was already cursing at it silently, willing it to go faster. Marie was still supporting him, and he looked down at her, managing a wobbly smile. "Haven't lost it entirely, I promise," he said, still wheezing a little from his rush down from upstairs. His side was aching fiercely, and he deliberately didn't look down at it, not wanting to know if he'd broken stitches again. Even if it did, they would have to wait. "It's just... all clear now, Marie. I understand, but I have to talk to her, to finish it..."

"I trust you." The veracity of her words surprised her a little, but she'd been through so much with the people in her own head, she really did believe that Nathan was in the dire straits he claimed to be with regard to the Askani. "What do you understand?" She wanted to know, in case she had to explain this to someone later, in case Nathan couldn't.

"I trust you." The veracity of her words surprised her a little, but she'd been through so much with the people in her own head, she really did believe that Nathan was in the dire straits he claimed to be with regard to the Askani. "What do you understand?" She wanted to know, in case she had to explain this to someone later, in case Nathan couldn't.

He laughed a little, almost helplessly, leaning back against the wall of the elevator. "I did it, Marie," he said, somehow angry and astonished all at once. "To myself. It was me, reaching out to them... not the other way around." Closing his eyes for a moment, trying to summon up the right words to explain, he went on as steadily as he could. "Because of my family. I've lived what they're living, what's killing them... my family's cult, fucking mutant Social Darwinists, it's the same thing, Marie, the same thing here as there..."

Marie took this in and nodded. "You understood... maybe it was some kind of resonance. Maybe it was because you escaped and were reaching out to help anyone who didn't," she mused, leaning to check the side Nathan was favouring, where he'd been injured, running her hand over his shirt to feel for any dampness of blood seeping through.

"She told me," Nathan murmured, barely registering Marie's exploring touch. "She told me flat out, and I didn't understand. All this time..." The elevator stopped and his eyes flew open. "You have to lock me in," he said as the door opened and she helped him forward. "I don't know what's going to happen, but I can't lose control outside of that room. I can't..." He thought of the glass trees down by the lake and shook his head violently.

"I will," Marie promised, half-carrying him toward the Box. "I'm going to call Charles, though," she warned. "I have to do that, Nathan."

Nathan nodded jerkily. "Going to need him, I think," he said, and could almost feel the Box pulling him onwards. "Thank you, Marie," he whispered.

"I told you when you got here," Marie said, stopping to key her code into the door, "we'd handle what you threw at us. Remember? And we will." The door slid open and she helped Nathan inside. "Be strong, okay?" Her voice was little more than a whisper as she lowered him into one of the chairs inside.

He managed to wait until he heard the door close securely behind Marie before he threw himself back onto his mindscape, back to his 'beach', so forcefully that he slid out of the chair and went to his knees in the real world, in the Box. But he didn't register the impact. In his mind, he was already striding across the sand, brushing aside the mirrors, staring straight at the vortex.

"ASKANI!" he screamed out across the water, and it froze into black glass, just as it had when Charles had been here. "Askani, get out here! NOW!" Now that he was here, that it was time, he found himself shaking with a strange mixture of rage and awe - he was angry at her, at himself, at whatever God or fluke of random chance had allowed them to connect over so many centuries, but there was part of him that was just staggered with the wonder of it. How had it happened? What did it mean?

The vortex shimmered, fiery light rippling in its depths, just like he remembered from the first time. But there was no explosion this time, no enraged Askani hurtling out of the vortex. This time, she merely stepped through, her bare feet white against the black glass. In a simple white dress, her hair falling loosely around her shoulders, she seemed more human this time. Younger.

"I knew you would call me," she said, making her way across the black glass sea to the sand. She was smiling at him, pleased, almost proud.

For an instant, he could have throttled her. "This is really not the time for 'I told you so's'," he snarled almost bitterly as she reached the shore. "I wasn't ready to see it then. But I do now." She folded her hands together in front of her, staring up at him with wide, clear green eyes, and he felt a rush of helpless, strangely wistful anger. "You're different," he said, his tone at least coming out curt, clipped. "Why?"

"I... have had some time to think, as well," Askani said slowly, her smile fading a little, but not entirely. "To realize that there is plenty of time at this end of history."

It hit him all at once, and he reeled back from her, almost losing his balance entirely. "It's over," he said, and hardly recognized his voice as his own. "You're... it's over." This wasn't a woman in the middle of losing a war, of watching her people slaughtered. Something had changed, and the only thing he could think as he stared down at her in horror was that he was looking at a ghost. The ghost of a woman who was dead, who hadn't yet been born...

She tilted her head, her smile turning almost sad. "In some ways, it is over, yes," she admitted with a nod. "In others, it hasn't yet begun." She spread her hands wide. "It's the paradox, little brother. The paradox that can save us."

Nathan took a deep, shuddering breath, forcing himself to straighten. "I've spent... so long," he said, his voice breaking. "So long trying to pretend that the first twelve years of my life happened to someone else." That Nathan Dayspring had begun to exist when he'd gotten the lift from that trucker headed to Anchorage. That he had never grown up in the wilderness, surrounding by madmen and madwomen who believed in nothing but strength, who hated the rest of the world and everyone in it, despising everyone outside the commune as weak. That he had never had parents who had left their five year-old on the side of the road in the dead of winter and told him to find his way home, to prove himself.

They had never put their ideas into practice outside their own community, at least. The commune had turned in on itself, perpetuating the madness, but it had never exported it to the outside world. Small blessings.

"And have you been at peace with that?" Askani asked directly, her eyes never budging from his face. "With running from it, for all these years? Denying who you are, what shaped you?"

Nathan hesitated, then shook his head. "No," he said very softly. "No, I haven't." He met her calm gaze as steadily as he could. "I need to see," he went on, his voice cracking again. "Show me how it ends."

Askani nodded. "It's time," she said, and reached out a hand.

He took it, and...

"This is how it ends."

Explosions in the sky, starbursts of fire over the lines of troops, and a bloodstained finger taps the holo-tank, making the image shiver.

"We have columns of refugees fleeing northwards into the unclaimed territories. The longer we can hold out, the more time they have to get to safety."

"The more lives we save." The voice is soft, barely audible, and he raises his eyes from the map to her. To his Clanmother and friend, who is standing on the other side of the holotank, weeping soundlessly.

"You should go," he murmurs. "Flee with them."

But she shakes her head, as he knew she would. "Lead from the front," she says, her voice choked with emotion, with pride and sorrow. "I won't leave the troops. Not now."

He reaches out, and...

"Not yet," Askani murmured, and squeezed his hand more tightly. And he...

"BLUE AND GOLD BATTLEGROUPS TO THE FORE!"

The order is almost inaudible over the noise of battle, but she kills the Canaanite in front of her with one blow of her psimitar and staggers forward. "To the fore!" she screams and heads for where she can see the Phoenix banner, barely visible through the smoke.

They are losing. She knows this, but has no thought of retreat. They all know what is at stake. And she thinks of her sister and her children, fleeing northward to the Ice Cities, where they will live and thrive and perhaps even be happy.

But only if she and the others hold, here and now.

"Follow me!" she screams, her voice stronger, and some of her battlegroup follows. Few, so few, but still strong. Still ready to fight. "For our Lady! For the Clan!"

And they fight, until one of the plasma bolts from the hovering airships reaches them...

"More," Askani said, still holding his hand...

"My Lady!" He grasps at her arm, choking on the smoke. The lines have broken, shattered into pieces in a dozen places, and there is no more holding, no more time. His comrades, his friends, lie dead or dying around him, and the Canaanites advance steadily. He can almost hear His laughter, echoing in the wind.

"Go, please--" he begs her, ignoring the pain of his own wounds. "Please..."

But she jerks away from him, her green eyes brilliant with tears. From the smoke, he thinks, but then she is lunging at him, grasping his face between her hands. Kissing him soundly.

"Goodbye," she whispers, and then there is flame everywhere, her hair and her eyes are ablaze and she is soaring, wings of fire unfolded around her.

His Lady, his love, transfigured.

#No more!# she, or the thing she has become, cries out, her voice like thunder, the echo of the doom that has finally closed upon them. #No more... this ends, THIS ENDS!#

And red-gold flame turns to white, and even as she begins to scream, and he realizes what she is doing, there is no more time.

The battlefield disappears in light.

And his last thought is not anger, or grief. Only relief. It is over. They have saved what they can, fought to the end. They will go out now at her hand, quickly, mercifully.

It is enough.

Nathan wrenched away, falling to his knees. The beach was gone, and he looked around for a moment, wildly, tears blurring his vision, until he focused on Askani, kneeling in front of him.

"It can't," he said, almost in a moan. "It can't end that way, it can't..."

Askani smiled through her tears. "It doesn't have to," she said softly. "Don't you understand, Nathan? You and I, all of this... it has a reason." She drew herself up, proud again, but still smiling. "Full circle," she said firmly. "You are the right person, in the right place, at the right time. With all the strength you need."

Nathan swallowed, rubbing at his eyes. He could almost feel his whole world, his whole life shifting beneath him. It was an unsettling feeling, and yet...

"Show me," he said hoarsely, reaching out to her as he stood. "All of it. Start to finish, sister. So that I know. So that I remember."

And her eyes suddenly blazed, with joy so intense that he almost took a step back. "Askani... it means outsider, Nathan," she whispered, trembling as she took his hands. "It was the closest I could come to 'X-Man'."

Somehow, he found himself smiling as he closed his eyes.

And then, they were there with him. A hundred years, thousands, millions of Askani. Men and women and children, living and dying, their joy and their sorrow and so much, so beautiful and sad...

He opened his mind, imagined doors opening, letting them all in. Holding them in his mind, in his heart. Loving them for what they were, what they could have been...

I'll never forget. I'll never forget...

***

The telekinetic explosion rocked the mansion to its foundations, but the walls of the Box held, held even as they turned into shimmering glass.

Nathan came to, lying in the center of the room, on the shattered glass floor, bleeding from half a dozen small cuts but weeping, laughing, joy and pain so entangled that one was inseparable from the other. "I'll never forget," he whispered hoarsely.

And the words came out in Askani.