xp_logs | Amanda and Nathan, Friday afternoon

After all the events of the week, Amanda and Nathan are both a little uncertain when they have a chance encounter out by the pool. Askani apologizes for her temper tantrum and promises she'll help Manuel. Amanda and Nathan are still a little uneasy with each other. Amanda makes a startling revelation about how she's feeling about life these days. Nate gets all impassioned and preachy. There is hugging. And a monkey.

Alison, perhaps sensing that Amanda was still a bit too touchy to be dealing with people en masse, had sent her out with a broom to sweep the fallen twigs and leaves from around the pool area, and to drag the furniture around to make space for dancing. Of course, there had been Sorcerer's Apprentice jokes made as the broom was handed over, and Amanda was still shaking her head over Alison's apparent insanity as she made her way outside.

Nathan had ventured outside after lunch, thinking he would try this whole walking-around thing out in the fresh air. It was better than pacing around inside, after all, and he had hoped it would clear his head. It hadn't really, of course, but a good long hobble around the grounds had allowed him to relax, just a little, to let his mind drift away from everything but the sunlight and the trees and the need not to fall over out where it would take someone twenty minutes to find him. But he had pushed just a little too far, maybe (made it a hike instead of a stroll?) and on the way back to the mansion stopped to sit down in one of the lounge chairs by the pool, just to catch his breath. And it was a very comfortable chair...

Broom over her shoulder, glad to be outside and not having anyone demanding anything more than a simple manual task, Amanda was feeling almost chipper as she rounded the corner. Only to stop in her tracks as she saw the familiar bulk of Nate (the broken leg was pretty much a giveaway) apparently asleep in one of the lounges. 'Bugger.'

It wasn't that she didn't want to see Nate, it was just... she didn't want to see him. She was pretty sure there'd be Words about the sleep spell, and besides, talks with Nate tended to get complicated. She hesitated, trying to ignore the voice in her head that was calling her a coward. 'He's asleep,' she told it. 'Which he needs. We can talk later.'

Dozing, Nathan was peripherally aware of someone else's presence, just like he was aware of the chair beneath him and the soft breeze blowing across him, but it was a safe presence, his instincts told him. He could just lay here and let it do whatever it was doing, rest for as long as he wanted. No need to wake up.

#No, no need,# Askani murmured in the back of his mind. #But perhaps the desire?#

His eyes snapped open, but she was already gone, fading back into the stars and almost invisible against the others. Raising a hand to rub his eyes, Nathan blinked rather blearily at the small figure with the broom, who was determinedly attacking the debris around the pool and not looking in his direction at all.

"Hey," he called out softly.

Amanda yelped and dropped the broom. "Yer awake?" she said, sounding oddly disappointed. "I mean, I didn't wake you, did I? I was tryin' t' be quiet, only the Devil Woman wants this lot cleared for the end of finals party." She picked up the broom again, feeling awkward.

"You didn't," Nathan assured her, his voice just as quiet, and mustered a smile. "I'm guessing this is going to be quite a party."

"People need it," she said, shrugging. "After everythin', I figured people'd need t' relax a bit, an' since the usual party organisers are all havin' personal crises, I called in the expert." She half-grinned. "I'm not really good at the nice sort of surprises. But then you already know that, after..." She looked down and began pushing leaves around with the broom, half-heartedly.

"Amanda," Nathan said softly, and waited until she glanced back up at him to continue. "I'm sorry. About what happened on Wednesday. I think... with everything, I forgot to say that." He took a deep breath, holding onto the smile and trying to ignore the sudden tightness in his chest. "But I did mean what I did say. That I'd help. Hope you can believe that, even if you don't tru----even if the people in my head aren't making a very good impression."

"It ain't all of 'em, just the ones that can't watch their manners," Amanda replied, a little waspishly. "An' it weren't yer fault. I should've known better 'n t' ask you to see that, what with yer problem with Manny. And theirs, it seems."

"I don't want you to think that you can't come to me when you need to talk about something," Nathan said, the clenching feeling in his chest getting a little worse. "Whether it has anything to do with Manuel or not. I'll straighten things out with them, make sure this doesn't happen again."

"Not if it makes you sick, I can't," she said, not even pretending to sweep now, her hands clenching and unclenching on the broom handle nervously. "I'm done with gettin' you hurt or makin' things worse. 'S gettin' t' the point where everytime we talk I end up havin' t' heal you, an' I can't... I can't do it any more. It's hurtin' me too much." To her dismay, her breath hitched in a sob, and her vision abruptly filled with tears. "Fuck," she said, turning away from him and pressing her eyes into the crook of her elbow so her t-shirt would absorb the evidence.

Nathan sat up, swinging his broken leg over the edge of the lounge chair. "Listen to me," he said as calmly as she could, waiting until she looked up at him. "You don't have to, Amanda. If Angelo hadn't come upstairs to look for me on Wednesday, I would have dragged myself to bed eventually and slept it off. I'm trying to figure out how to live with a couple of million people in my head - there are going to be ups and down, especially when most of the couple million people died in various awful ways. It is not your responsibility to try and cushion me from the bumpy bits in the road."

"Even when I manage t' scare the shite out of all of 'em, all at once? 'Cause havin' a couple of million traumatised people freak out in yer head ain't good for you. Besides, I got the message - this is down t' me, all of it." Her shoulders slumped.

"It most certainly is not," Nathan said sharply, not regretting the tone at all as her head jerked upwards and she focused on him. "In the end, Amanda, it's all down to Manuel. Askani was completely unfair to you, and I intend to tell her that as soon as she sticks her head out for more than a few seconds at a time." An inward grumble, but he ignored it. "It is not your responsibility to change Manuel, either. Support him, yes, as much as you want to and can, but he's the one that has to make the decision to change."

"But..." It was hard to ignore his tone, but it was also hard to ignore Askani. And her words had had time to sink deep, latching onto Amanda's own fears and sense of abandonment. "He wants to," she said at last, lamely.

"Then he will," Nathan said much more softly, the thoughts she was letting slip feeling like the crack of a whip across open wounds. #There are times,# he projected inwards, at Askani, with all the venom he could muster, #that I really, really hate you.# No answer this time, and he smiled encouragingly at Amanda. "You can be there to help, Amanda, remind him what direction's forward and kick him in the ass if he needs it, but that's all you can do. It's all anyone can do. I know the link makes you want to do more, but at times like this it's more important than ever to remember that you're two separate people."

"It just felt like... sometimes it seems I'm the only one who wants t' help him. Everyone keeps comin' up with these dire warnin's 'bout him an' what he might turn into, but no-one seems t' want t' give him a chance, 'sides the Prof, an' that's what he does anyway." Laying the broom aside, Amanda came over and sat on the lounge next to Nate, carefully out of arm's reach. "It doesn't help that half me bloody safety net's decided to cut an' run."

It struck Nathan, then, that he had ceased to count as part of her safety net. He kept the smile on, kept his voice absolutely steady as he went on, but it was hard. Very hard. "I want to help him," he said simply. "I do. Can you believe me when I say that?"

She nodded, slowly, her eyes fixed on the warm tile beneath her bare feet. "I do," she said. "But I ain't sure you can. Not if it's gunna hurt you like that. I wouldn't want that."

"Some things are worth the risk," Nathan said softly. "I'm willing to try. For him, and for you. And they want to help him, too, like I said. I think it'll be a lot easier with them behind me."

She looked up at that. "All of them?" she asked pointedly, eyes narrowing.

His mouth quirked upwards. "No, not all of them. A lot of them I don't think are even aware of me." She gave him an aggravated look, and he chuckled softly, then wished he hadn't as the sound came out strained, giving away a little more than he'd wanted. "Mi'savra, what have I been doing for a living all this time? Is it easy, or safe? I'm used to risk. Part of life."

"You know who I meant," she said. "Bossy, likes showy displays of power, likes t' possess you sometimes? How does she feel 'bout all this?"

Nathan took a deep breath, realizing what he had to do. #Would you like to get your ass out here and help me fix this?# he invited acidly, then looked back at Amanda. "Don't be startled," he said softly as he felt Askani emerge from the stars, pulling on his powers. "Trust me."

Askani materialized a few feet away, closer to the edge of the pool. Wearing her white robe this time, Nathan noticed. There was a definite correlation between her appearance and her mood. She turned towards them, took one step closer - and then dropped to her knees on the concrete.

"I've wronged you, little sister," she said quietly, in English more heavily accented than usual. "I can only ask you to forgive me."

Amanda raised her eyebrow at the sight of the imposing woman - like Romany, she wasn't large, but gave that impression with sheer personality - on her knees. "You hurt him," she said quietly, nodding in Nate's direction. "You shouldn't've."

Askani looked up at Nathan, a flash of regret in her green eyes. Nathan raised an eyebrow, reminding her silently that no, they hadn't actually talked about this yet. "I am... not a gentle person, by nature," she said slowly. "Too many years spent in war. It is... no excuse. I will do better." She turned her attention back to Amanda, her eyes keen. "I demanded something of you that was more than you can or should attempt to give."

"I was gunna give it any way," Amanda pointed out. "I just needed help. I'm stubborn, but I ain't bloody stupid. An' Nate could tell you, I don't react well t' people demandin' I do somethin'."

Askani smiled very faintly. "Nor do I. Which should make me more understanding of the trait in others." She looked up at Nathan for a long, speculative moment, then back at Amanda. "I will do what I can for him, little sister. Your mindmate. I give you my word, as clanmother, warlord, and Lady."

"You can believe her," Nathan said quietly. "She won't break that oath. She can't."

Amanda nodded. "I believe you. An' don't take this the wrong way, but if you pull another stunt like that again, hurt Nate when it could be avoided, an' we'll see how well you react t' magic, right?" There was no malice, no anger in her voice, just a statement of fact.

Askani nodded. "I will seek to avoid that day," she said, a bit wryly, and then vanished. Nathan blinked, a bit surprised by her abrupt departure.

"Well, then," he said slowly, looking back at Amanda. "Far be it from me to complain if she decides to be a woman of few words, huh?" He thought that some of Amanda's tension had eased, from what he sensed, but it was far from gone. "I don't know precisely how they think they can help Manuel yet," he went on, trying for a conversational tone. "There are a number of empaths in here - " He tapped his temple, " - but I haven't talked it out with them yet. I will soon, I promise."

"I figure out of a couple of million, there'll be someone with an idea," Amanda said with a small grin. She was quiet for a long moment. "She reminded me of Rom," she said at last. "No bullshit about her. She watches the demandin', keeps her mind t' herself, I think we'll be able t' manage." With a noise that was halfway between a sigh and a groan, she stretched out her neck, rolling her shoulders as the tension in them began to recede somewhat. "I think I owe you an apology, too."

"No, you don't," he said very softly. "Other way around, Trouble. On a number of fronts." He gave her a very small smile, about all he could manage. "I'll do better," he went on. "At this whole reliable-adult-you- can-depend-on thing, I mean. Not surprisingly, I'm a little tired of lurching from crisis to crisis, too."

"That post, what I said, out in public an' all - that was dumb. An' Strange let me have it but good for
puttin' you t' sleep like that. Told me I ain't come as far as he would've liked with the ethics stuff." When she looked up, Nate could see the dark circles under her eyes, the thinness of her face. "I was angry at you, an' I didn't think. 'M sorry if I made things harder for you."

"You had good intentions, with the sleep spell," Nathan said. "As for the post..." He hesitated, but then shook his head. "You let me worry about it. If there's any problem, I'll deal with it." Would be interesting to see who all showed up for the Askani language group, though. "You just focus on getting some rest, okay? I don't want you... Strange was pretty specific about the risks you've been running."

"He was makin' noises 'bout sendin' me away, but I wouldn't have that," Amanda said. "This place might drive me mad sometimes, but it's where I want t' be. Me friends are here, for a start." She gave him another half-smile. "An' you an' Moira should be workin' on that rest thing too. Or is this another of those 'do as I say, not as I do' things?"

"Moira's gotten some sleep since Monday," Nathan said. "Not enough to make up for all she's missed, but I'll see about encouraging her to stay on the upward trend." His gaze swept around the pool area, and almost instinctively, he reached out with his telekinesis and started to gather the twigs and leaves together. "He seems like... a good teacher. Strange, I mean," Nathan said, compacting the twigs and leaves down into a tightly-packed, manageable ball. "You're lucky to have him."

Nathan's avoidance of his own sleeping habits didn't escape Amanda, but she was too tired, too wrung out, to make even a token protest. Besides, he was a grown man, she thought with a touch of irritation. He didn't need her to tell him to look after himself. "Good," she said. "That Moira's sleepin'. She needs remindin' every so often. An' Strange might be an odd duck, but he knows his stuff. He's teachin' me a lot - there's a whole lot more t' magic than I realised. Useful stuff, 'stead of the nasty tricks Rack taught me." She chuckled, watching Nate neatly complete her chore, and it was a welcome sound. "You want t' clean me room as an encore?"

"Don't push your luck," he said, his answering soft laugh slipping out almost of its own accord. He bounced the ball a few times, experimentally. "I'm going to go see Charles tomorrow," he said, watching the ball instead of her. "Gotten a bit off-track, with everything that's happened... he's got a lot I need to learn, too."

"He's been busy too, what with this Jamie thing and all. I emailed him, 'bout Manny, an' he never replied, never said anythin' t' him either." Amanda shrugged. "Guess he has t' look after the more important things first." The worst part was there was no cynicism in her voice, no upset, just an acceptance of that was how things were.
Nathan really didn't know what to say to that. Letting the ball bounce to a stop and roll over to them, he looked back at her. "I saw Manuel yesterday," he said. "Talked to Charles about it, but he already knew what was going on. What happened to Manuel - it's not something he can just wave his hand and fix. Sometimes you do have to let things heal on their own..."

"He's doin' all right, near as I can tell from the link - I just don't know enough 'bout this stuff t'know for sure. An' it's frustratin', not bein' able t' fix that knee of his - he strained it at the warehouse. But Strange was pretty strict. No more healin' spells, until he gives me the all clear - he even said he'd put a geas on me t' make sure, but I think that might have been a bluff." Amanda chuckled again, but it was more wry than amused. "But yer right, people have t' heal on their own. Somethin' that came up when Warren was bein' all moralistic at me - I told him he can't fix everythin', even if he wants to. Should listen t' meself. Besides, what use will I be if I burn meself out? Magic's the only thing I've got, an' I need t' look after it."

Nathan stared at her. "The only thing you've got?" he asked slowly, not entirely sure he'd actually heard that. "Amanda... how can you say that?"

"The stuff that's been happenin', people leavin' an' all that... I was thinkin' bout it the other night, when I was tryin' t' calm down. I ain't a genius like some of the people here, or even that smart. The only family I got is the one I'm tryin' t' make for meself. I don't have the family fortune t' back me up. An' there's Manny, but one day he'll be off in this whole other world of his, an' I don't belong there. When it all comes down t' it, the only thing I do have is the magic, an' if I lose that, I've got nothin'." Amanda's voice was steady. "It ain't people's fault they can't be there when they want to, an' I shouldn't expect 'em t' be. I've gotten soft, needin' people t' look after me, gettin' meself in a situation where I couldn't trust meself. An' I decided, I ain't gunna do it any more, rely on other people t' do it for me. I have t'do it meself."

Nathan continued to stare at her. "That's unfair," he said heavily, that clawing tightness back in his chest, edged in something close to real fear. Fear for her. "To you, and to the people that care about you. You can't have any kind of a life on either extreme, Amanda. It doesn't work."

"It's the only way that does work!" Amanda blurted, dropping her guard. "Fuck it, Nate, I've tried the normal way, of lettin' people in, askin' for help. An' it worked for a while, until Sarah an' Shinobi decided t' tell the rest of us t' screw ourselves while they went off t' Boston, an' Marie couldn't handle it anymore, an' Pete got this new job. An' then I looked around for help, an' everyone was gone, or busy, or dealin' with their own shite, an' I realised you can't rely on other people. An' it ain't like I'm angry at anyone - they've got their own lives, an' I've been so fuckin' high maintenance with this addiction I don't blame 'em for wantin' a break. But I'm tired of puttin' meself an' them through it, Nate. The addiction ain't never gunna go, but at least I can keep it under control, keep it from hurtin' other people."

His hands were clenching so tightly into fists at his sides that the one connected to his bad shoulder was beginning to hurt steadily. "I'm going to say something to you," he said, his voice tight and shaking, "and if it's a little more blunt than it should be, you'll have to forgive me because there are times I just cannot manage the fucking diplomatic approach." Amanda's eyes widened a little, and he went on, trying to keep the volume down, to keep the voice steady. "There are always going to be times when you feel alone, Amanda. When it feels like the people you care about have abandoned you, or are too wrapped up in their own shit to help you deal with yours. Always. That's what people do. They get their heads stuck up their asses, they make mistakes, and sometimes they just don't care." He took a deep, shuddering breath, fighting for control. "But sometimes it's different. Sometimes you do get that helping hand, or a shoulder to cry on, or someone who jumps in and fights to save you from your demons. Maybe you won't ever be disappointed if you don't rely on people, kiddo, but you will never have those moments. You will never be happy. You will never be able to look at the people around you and say 'yes, I am loved'." His eyes blazing, he stared right at the girl, who didn't look away, didn't blink, as if his words had put her into some sort of a trance. "You shut people out, you give that up. And the fucking irony is that you don't avoid the pain, Amanda. You just spread it out. It makes every day gray and bleak and empty."

Amanda opened her mouth to reply, closed it again without speaking, because the words wouldn't come, jamming beneath the lump in her throat. ~ I'm scared,~ she thought at him instead, feeling her link with Manuel flare with his concern and worry at the turmoil she was flooding him with. "I don't wanna be alone any more," she whispered at last. "But I dunno what t' do."

Her thoughts fluttered like terrified birds, shattering themselves against his shields, gradually beginning to batter them down. But Nathan held onto them with grim ferocity, never breaking eye contact with her as he went on. "You don't give up," he said, and despite the harshness of his voice there was an anguished plea in it, too. "On Manuel, on Pete, on me, on any of us." His voice broke. "We love you, you stubborn little brat. It would break our hearts to see you shut down, because that would mean you were leaving us. Your body would still be here walking around, maybe, but the Amanda that clawed her way back from the brink, the Amanda that was courageous enough to open her heart to the people here despite everything she'd been through.... she'd be gone."

'But it hurts...' Amanda's inner voice had taken on the the slight whine of a child in pain, and there was a flash of honey-blonde hair in her mind's eye, stirring some kind of memory. Yes, it hurt, she told that voice, but as people reminded her, there were the good parts too: the warm glow of Manuel's feelings in the back of her head when she came into the room, the rough affection in Angelo's voice as he called her 'little sister'. Sharing fags with Pete and exchanging friendly insults and remarks about the insanity around them. Moira's motherliness, much as she complained about it. And what Nate had shared with her, the way he saw her... She dug her nails into her palms, concentrating on the slight sting, using it to get control again.

"Don't worry. I'm not goin' nowhere," she said at last, holding Nate's intense gaze, although her own was somewhat fuzzy around the edges with unshed tears.

Nathan sagged inwardly as he felt the conflict in her... not quite resolve, but tilt back towards a safer balance, one that might be resolved the right way in time. Words weren't going to work, there was no magic wand to be waved here, but so long as she listened, as long as she didn't close herself off completely... "I'm glad," he said, his voice a little ragged. "Because I'm something of an expert in shutting down, Amanda. Enough to know that's no way to live." He managed a slightly unsteady smile. "The good thing, though? It's never too late to stop. Life will always surprise you."

"I'd noticed it does that," she said, a faint glimmer of humour returning. "Just wish it was the nice sort more often, rather than the nasty ones." She took a long, shuddering breath. "Nate? Would it be horribly needy an' pathetic of me right now t' say I needed a hug?"

"Only if I'm needy and pathetic too. Because I was going to tackle you, if you tried to leave without that," Nathan said with as close to a perfectly straight face as he could manage.

"I'd like t' see you try with that leg," Amanda snorted, getting up and sitting next to him. "An' then Moira's face as you tried t' explain why you'd suddenly taken up rugby with a broken leg."

"I cheat," Nathan said, enfolding her gently in a hug, glad that he was back to having two functional arms - more or less. "I cheat shamelessly. It's part of my charm." He was hit by a sudden, almost overwhelming wave of fierce protectiveness as she hugged him back, more tightly than carefully. "It'll be okay," he murmured awkwardly, knowing he couldn't fight her battles for her but still wishing he could.

"Not for want of tryin', any way," came her slightly muffled response as she held onto him tightly, not even thinking of his injuries in her need for comfort. After a long moment, she loosened her grip a little, enough to look up at him. "Y'know, we should just limit ourselves t' topics like the weather an' sport. Safer, that way. Then we wouldn't put ourselves through all this."

"I've been thinking that the school needs an intramural rugby league or something," Nathan bantered a bit desperately. "Would be a great way to get out various tensions, don't you think?"

Amanda laughed out loud at that. "You could coach," she said with a tired smile. "Make people run around, yell at 'em. You'd get a whistle, too."

"It's a thought," Nathan said with a faint chuckle, then grew serious again, almost despite himself. "But yeah. Not limit our topics, but maybe, you know, make sure we do the nice normal conversations, too?" He looked down at her, smiling a little. "I have all kinds of thoroughly appalling stories, after all..."

"Y'know, most people wouldn't consider appallin' stories as nice normal conversation," Amanda pointed out, resting her head against him. "'S a good thing I ain't most people."

"Thankfully," Nathan agreed, casting around for one of his more entertaining stories. "I haven't told you the one about when Dom and I were in Cairo, I don't think. We were supposed to be stealing back an experimental computer chip, but there were these Sufis, and then this nasty little bastard of a monkey..."