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[x-mactaggart.livejournal.com]

When Nathan manages to start walking on his own, Moira makes the decision that it's time he get out of the MedLab. Together, the manage to get him back to the room before he collapses. Nathan's a sap and Moira enjoys sleeping next to him again



It was not that hard, Nathan told himself harshly, leaning heavily on his single crutch. Ten steps, probably, from the bed to where Moira was standing, watching him concernedly. If he couldn't manage that he might as well just brain himself with the crutch right now. Breathing heavily, his head pounding as he tried to use his telekinesis to brace himself, he took one hobbling step forward - and froze, a cry wrenching itself out from behind his clenched teeth as he wound up putting weight on his broken leg. Just briefly, but his vision went white, and pure stubbornness alone kept him on his feet.

While Moira knew Nathan wanted to do these first few steps on his own, his pained cry had her dashing to his side and slipping an arm around him. "Stop tha'," she urged as he grumbled and tried to straighten on his own. "There's nay a bloody damned thin' wron' wit' needin' ta lean on someone." She looked up at him, concerned. "I could get someone down 'ere, ta 'elp..."

"No... I'm good," he choked out, trying to catch his breath. He was drenched in sweat already, and frustration bubbled up inside him so forcefully that he would have cursed aloud, if he'd had the air for it. "Going... to have to do this on my own. Might as well... start now. Go back over there?"

The link fairly hummed with his pent up frustration but she reluctantly let him go, touching the link with a gentle touch, sending encouragement down towards him. She found herself back in the spot she had just left and watched him carefully.

One step at a time. No levitating, Nathan told himself savagely. Didn't get to do this the easy way. And between the crutch and his telekinesis, he ought to be able to do this. Going to have to get used to the pain... getting back into shape is going to be a bitch, he reminded himself, and took another step. Then another. He miscalculated on the next one, coming down on the injured leg ahead, but he gritted his teeth and rode out the pain, pushing himself onwards.

Moira stopped herself from running to him, just stood right where she was and clenched her hands together tightly. She could *see* the sweat pour off of him and she had to remind herself that she was no stranger to helping people through physical therapy. Just never the one she had loved. Quickly, she squashed that part and watched him, touching the link and trying to send as much encouragement as she could towards him.

Nine... ten... okay. Eleven. With no thought of pride this time, Nathan leaned on Moira, gasping for air. Every muscle in his body was trembling violently, and his vision was trying to gray out from the pain. "Think... a problem," he wheezed. "Getting...back."

"We'll manage," she soothed, rubbing his back to loosen those tight muscles a bit. "I'm nay as old as I look, ye can lean on me on th' way up."

"Up...?" he managed, feeling a spark of hope even as his body kept screaming at him to just fall over and have done with it. "As in... out of here? Now?"

"Ye want out o' 'ere tonight or wait until tomorrow mornin'?" Moira asked, smiling a little. It had been a split-second decision on her part but she didn't want to take it back. Not with the way he was looking down at her, like a kid at Christmas. He wasn't getting any better down here, the stress from it all was not helping at all. He'd have a better chance of healing the rest of the way if he was where he felt comfortable.

First she let him wear real clothes - well, as close to real clothes as he was getting, given the need to allow for the cast and bandages - and now she was going to let him out of here. Nathan gave her a wobbly smile. "T-Tonight," he said. "Even if... I have to crawl."

She smiled back and shifted her grip slightly, in order to support him better. "Ye're nay crawlin' since I'll be 'elpin' ye. I think we can make it to our rooms." There was an emphasis on "our rooms", a little on purpose. Moira was going to break him of the habit of referring it to her room, eventually. "Need me ta call someone else fer 'elp, though?"

"No," Nathan said stubbornly. "Think... I can do it." He didn't need anyone else seeing him like this. "Though stairs... might be a problem."

"Elevator," she murmured, waiting for him to take the lead. She'd walk at the pace he set. "Charles 'as one an' I know th' code ta get on it."

It was easier, with Moira to lean on. But even with her and the elevator, by the time they were coming down the hall towards her door, he was barely staying upright. His head was spinning, and maybe it was all the physical activity, but whatever medication was left in his system seemed to have disappeared abruptly.

With a grunt, Moira managed to kick the door open. "Jus' a wee--bit further," she gasped. As exhausted as she was, she knew Nathan felt worse. They were both drenched in sweat from the exertion it took to get him back up to the room. "Make it t' th' bed an' I'll get the pain medicine out o' me pocket, promise."

A real bed. Not a hospital bed. "Promises... promises..." he choked out, then focused on getting there. Moira eased him down, and he sagged back against the pillows, wheezing.

Not bothering to wipe the sweat from her brow, Moira dug in her pockets and pulled out the bottle of medicine that had been poking her in the hip. "See? I keep my promises." Shaking hands struggled with the cap and she cursed until it came off.

"Course... you do," he said weakly as she fetched him a glass of water to take the pills with. He managed to do so without spilling any of the water or choking, despite the way his hands were shaking. "Ohh... never thought I'd miss... the damned IV," he said, biting back something close to a whimper as she helped him lift his leg onto the bed.

There were extra pillows in the closet, she remembered, and quicky brought them over. She put some under his leg and murmured at him soothingly when he groaned in pain. "Elevated is good, remember?" Moira asked, tucking another extra pillow under his head. She stopped and smoothed his sweat soaked hair away from his forehead. "Ye made it."

"Course... I did." The statement really demanded some sort of cocky smile, but he couldn't quite manage it. Breathing raggedly, he closed his eyes, barely registering Moira's gentle touch. Fuck, that had hurt.

Moira made a noise and then touched the link again, a longer touch. "God, wish I could take away yer pain," she murmured, worried.

"Lets...me know I'm alive," he said weakly, opening his eyes and managing what had to be a ghastly excuse for a smile.

"Ye need a new 'obby. More than pain ta let ye know yer alive."

He found the breath for a pained chuckle. "Thought... I already had one," he said and winked.

Moira couldn't help but laugh at that and leaned down to kiss him. "Yer such a loveable sap," she said, smiling tenderly at him.

"Cultivate it, just for you..."

"Awww, so sweet." Chuckling, Moira turned so she could slip off her shoes and then padded around to turn off the lights. When she got back, she didn't even bother to change, her body crying out for some sleep in a real bed, next to Nathan. Carefully, she slid into bed. "Tryin' nay ta 'urt ye," she murmured, trying to lay down without bumping him too much.

"Not... to worry. That's my good side." He paused, then chuckled again, a little less breathlessly. "From the hip up, at least."

"I'll be careful." Gently, Moira curled up against him, sighing happily when she felt his arm around her. She tucked her legs up a bit, to make sure she wouldn't into him. "Love ye," she murmured into his shoulder. "Missed this..."

"Me too."