Day Three, Subs and Islands

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Moira and Nathan enjoy the submarine trip before stopping for a walk on a volcanic island. Things go well until Moira gets a little vertigo and Nathan starts acting weird when she says she trusts him. The conversation about trust and him letting her trust him goes downhill until they're both exhausted. There's some work to be done.



Nathan knew he was grinning like an idiot, but he couldn't help it. "I like submarines," he said happily to Moira, peering out the window at the shipwreck the tourist submarine was just passing over. "Ooh! Look at the fish!"

Moira giggled and leaned into his shoulder to stare out the window. She had been incredibly surprised, even with the allotted 28 passengers on the submarine, there was still a good deal of room. "Beautiful," she responded, just happy to be around water again. Even if it was underwater.

"Last time I was in a submarine, it was in the Arctic Ocean," Nathan, still beaming, murmured in her ear. "You probably don't want to know the details."

An eyebrow arched just a little and she peered up at him. "...probably not," Moira agreed, squeezing his hand that was looped lightly around her waist. The much, much younger couple a few seats away from them giggled at them and she blushed a little, returning her attention back to the ocean. "Water!" Very, very happy thoughts about water.

"Remind me never to take you on a vacation to the desert," Nathan said with a chuckle. The water really was incredible. Amazingly clear, enough that they could be a fair distance above the shipwreck and still pick up all kinds of details.

"I think I'd shrivel up." Leaning forward a little, Moira put her hand to the small window in amazement. She loved the ocean at Muir, the sharp, angry water at the cliffs edge. This was so different than what she had grown up with.

"I love this," Nathan said, staring out the window and smiling at the sight of a diver heading for the surface.

One of the good things about the submarine ride had been that they were free to get off and catch a later one back. The volcanic-islands, she thought they were on Palea Kameni, had called to both of them and they decided to disembark for a little quiet, exploring time. There were semi-trails, making it easier for Nathan to get around, thought the pace was slow. Not that either of them minded.

They had decided to head for a place that had a good view of the water, somewhere not too far away so it wouldn't tax Nathan out. "Ye doin' okay, love?" she asked, looking up at him.

"I'm good," Nathan reassured her with a smile, knowing he sounded a bit breathless. But he thought he was doing pretty well, all things considered. They weren't shooting for the top of the island or anything, that would be beyond him at this point, but there was plenty to see even along the fringes of the island. The landscape was fascinating, he thought, watching Moira bend to examine an oddly-shaped boulder. "You know this island's only fifty-four years old?" he asked her.

"Really?" She eyed the rock, knowing that geology was not her area at expertise. Dirt and rocks were, well, dirt and rocks. Though volcanic rock was incredibly interesting, she had to admit. "...tha's nay tha' much older than we are..."

Nathan laughed suddenly. "Moira! Come on, woman, I've having a hard enough time with the approaching 4-0. Don't even talk about the next milestone yet."

A snicker escaped as she stood up and returned to his side, leaning into him slightly. "Awww, at least yer nay in denial 'bout it," Moira teased. "An' jus' think...yer always younger than a volcanic island."

Nathan smiled, putting his arm around her. "I think I need to find some place to sit down," he confessed. "That boulder looks promising." Moira immediately led him over there, supporting him a little more than was strictly necessary, but he wasn't about to complain. He sat down, and watched her as she walked in a slow circle around their immediate vicinity, stopping to peer at some of the more interesting variations in the rock. Her inquisitive nature was one of the things he loved about her, Nathan reflected.

"Nay really been one inta geology," she called back, a little sheepishly, as she felt along the rock patterns. "But this stuff's bloody amazin'. Nay nearly enough ta tear me away from me work, though, but still..." Moira rocked back on her heels a little and looked around. There were near a set of cliffs that were breath taking and she stared at them for a second, suddenly a bit surprised by the slight feel of vertigo. The accident that involved her falling off the cliffs at Muir had been years ago, but heights tended to bring some of those memories back.

Nathan straightened where he was sitting, reacting to the flicker of unease along the link. "Don't... go wandering too close to the edge," he called out, his hand clenching instinctively on his crutch as he saw the memories of the fall flutter through her mind.

"Dinnae 'ave ta worry 'bout tha'," she responded, voice a little shakier than she wanted to be. Moira actually forced herself to keep looking at the cliffs, not moving, just looking. The rest of the fragmented memory came back, a little. Her parents calling her name as she cried hysterically on some edge of the cliff, shoulder dislocated, scared out of her mind. And of all people, her father--her skinny, uptight father--scrambling down the cliffs with her watchful mother above them. The rest was pain and blackness, except for the whispered reassurances when he finally reached her and then carried her back up.

Slowly, she got up and stumbled back to Nathan. #Besides...ye'd catch me,# she sent, trying to get the images out of her mind and to steady her breathing.

She had meant it to be reassuring, he knew. He forced himself to smile, to reach a slightly unsteady hand out to her as she came closer. "You're damned right I would," he said, but it came out rough, uneasy-sounding. Not convincing at all.
Moira paused and then took his hand. "Wha' did I say wron'?" she asked, confused.

"Nothing," he said, shifting a little on the boulder to give her space to sit down too. "It's a really pretty view, isn't it? When you're on solid ground and far enough back..."

"Yer dodgin' th' question," she pointed out, snuggling closer to him. "This is me starin' at an' nay th' view. Look, say 'ello. Right...wha's wron'?"

"Nothing," he protested, sliding his arm around her shoulders. "Really. Just got a bit of that down the link. Don't like to sense you so scared, even in retrospect."

Moira peered up at him, frowning deeply. "Ye dodged somethin' last night as well," she said slowly, poking the link gently with a questing mind. "Skittish when I said I was in awe o' ye sometimes..." There it was again, that skittishness. She tilted her head, confused, and wondered if this is what he felt like last night before they started talking abou it.

"I was just taken aback at the idea," Nathan said, trying for a joking tone. "I mean, I'm allowed to be in awe of you. I can't really buy it working the other way around."

"An' why th' bloody 'ell not?" Despite her words, Moira's tone was gentle.

Brush it off, Nathan told himself, not quite understanding how they had gotten onto this line of conversation. "Well," he said dryly. "I don't... see myself that way, I guess."

A very long time ago, someone had invented the perfect question for this situation. "Why?"

Nathan blinked down at her, unsettled by the steady way she was regarding him. "I don't have it together enough, I suppose."

"An' I do for ye ta think o' me in tha' way?" Moira scoffed. "Try another one, I'll be 'ere as lon' as it takes." There was something here, she knew. He hadn't let up last night, she wasn't going to let up today.

"This is a very strange conversation," Nathan protested, not letting go of her but stiffening a little, despite his best efforts not to. He tried to smile. "I'm not sure what you want to hear from me, Moira..."

Moira made a frustrated sound even as she rubbed his back gently. "I dinnae know, Nathan. But ye *always* react like this when I say somethin' like I did earlier. Wha', are ye sayin' I shouldnae expect ye ta catch me when I made that comment a wee while ago?"

"Oh, no," he said hurriedly, if a bit lamely. "Telekinesis is, uh, handy that way."

She poked him slightly in the ribs. "Ye know wha' I mean," Moira muttered. "Like I shouldnae count on *ye* an' I dinnae know why!"

Nathan opened his mouth, then closed it again, feeling oddly cornered. "I don't... I mean, I get protective, I know that, but I don't want you to think I think you need me to fight your battles for you..." he stammered.

Moira simply looked at him, jaw tightening a little bit. "Damn it, Nathan," she sighed. "I can feel it on th' link, there's somethin'...God, it's like ye dinnae want me trustin' ye!"

Nathan looked away, biting his lip. "I do want you to trust me," he said softly. "I don't know what I'd do if I thought you didn't."

"Then wha's wron'?" Moira asked, reaching up to turn his face back to her with a gentle touch. "Nathan, please...ye want me ta trust ye an' I do. But ye 'ave ta trust me, ta, remember?"

"I just... I worry still," he confessed very quietly, shivering a little at her touch. "About what might happen."

"Ye dinnae 'ave ta worry," she murmured, caressing his jaw gently. But she could guess why he did. "Talk ta me?" It wasn't quite a plea but it was as close as Moira ever got.

"It's been easy to forget, with everything else that's been going on, but they're still out there," Nathan murmured, his arm tightening around her almost of its own accord. "I just... I don't want to think about it, but I have to. And then I can't..." He trailed off, shaking his head almost miserably. "This is stupid," he said. "I never used to be such a coward."

"Yer nay a coward!" Moira chided strongly. "Look wha' ye've been through...yer nay a coward. 'Tis all right ta be afraid, Nathan, but ye act even when ye are. Tha' counts for somethin', for a whole lot."

"I just don't want you to get hurt," Nathan muttered. "Not because of me. Not ever."

"I'm nay goin' ta get 'urt. 'ow can I make ye see tha' I trust ye more than ye apparently trust yerself? Nathan, if'n it 'adnae been for ye back on Muir I would probably..." She stopped, biting her lip, at the sudden pained look he gave her.

"Yeah, I just did such a great job protecting you there. And that wasn't even Mistra," he pointed out.

"Ye stopped me from bein' dead," she snapped.

He grimaced at her. "Luck," he said heavily. "Pure dumb luck. I should never have missed them being there in the first place. And maybe I protected you mostly from the grenade, but I turned around and got myself shot up. If there had been one more man on their team..." The Askani were making annoyed noises in the back of his mind, but he shut them out ruthlessly. "I am losing a step these days, Moira. More than a step. I really don't know that you can depend on me like you should be able to. Look at what happened when I--" He stopped, nearly biting his own tongue at how fast he cut the words off.

Moira grimaced as the unsaid words slammed into the link, he hadn't thought of shielding it and she didn't want him to. "Ye cannae undo th' past," she said quietly, eyes flickering back to the cliffs for a second. "But, damn it, Nathan, there's verra little ye can do or say tha'll make me break me trust in ye." She glared at him, hating that she was probably near tears because of this. "Nay a damn thin'. Aye, there was some luck goin' on at Muir, bot' good an' bad. But ye still saved me, over yerself." A small flash of guilt, nothing more. "Fine, dinnae believe in yerself because I can do it for ye." With that she turned her head to look away from him, jaw as tight as it could go.

"Moira, don't, please," Nathan said pleadingly. The pain was coming down the link, and all he could think was that he had caused it, caused it even as he worried about hurting her, and that a little more irony than he could handle. "It doesn't matter, does it?" He tried vainly to smile. "It's just one more hang-up lurking in the back of my head... I don't let it get out of hand usually, it just sneaks up on me around corners."

"Damn it, Nathan, we're supposed ta 'elp each other!" Moira snapped, still not looking at him. If she did, she probably would start crying. "It does matter an' it matters than ye won't let me 'elp ye wit' it!"

Her sudden anger echoed across the link, and he stiffened, grimacing. "It's not... something that's solvable," he said almost fitfully. "What, do we invite Mistra to the mansion and see if I manage not to get you killed? Kind of hard to face certain fears head-on, Moira..."

"Then wha' do ye want me ta do, give up?" she snapped again, turning around abruptly to glare at him.

There was something like a steely ring on the link, like two swords slamming into each other. "Give up on what?" Nathan asked as honestly as he could, fighting back frustration. "This is why I didn't want to talk about this, Moira, there's no answer."

"God! 'Tis like on one 'and, ye wouldnae know wha' ta do if'n I dinnae trust ye...on th' bloody other, ye dinnae think ye deserve it an' 'alf dinnae want me ta give it! Which th' fuck is it?!" Times like this, she was more than grateful for the link. Especially when he didn't shield it properly and it leaked all sorts of things down towards her.

Nathan stared at her for a moment, at a loss. "I guess it doesn't sound really consistent when you put it that way," he said uncertainly.

"Nay, it doesnae! At all!" Moira panted a little bit from yelling at him.

"I just don't want to--" His jaw clenched, his eyes blurring as he stared straight ahead, rather desperately, at a streak of yellowish rock amid the gray. "If I heard you, on the link, and you were... I just can't. Can't do that again. But I never dreamed it would happen, never thought I could fuck up that badly once..."

Moira watched him, slowly calming down from her fit of anger. "Ye willnae," she said, suddenly tired. "Jus' let me trust ye, please? It 'urts when ye dinnae..."

"But can you? When it comes to that?" He made himself look at her, made his voice as dispassionate as he could, knowing that it didn't match his expression. "You know it all now. Everything I did, how I made it happen. You know my judgment’s... not what it could be."

"'ow can I nay?" she responded, blinking back tears. Abruptly, Moira leaned over and kissed him, unable to find the words that would make it seem right. Instead, she pressed against the link, sending every trusting thought and idea and love towards him, just trying to make him see. If she opened her eyes, the tears would fall, so she didn't.

#Don't cry,# Nathan sent hesitantly, enfolding her carefully in his arms. #Please don't...# Drawing back from the kiss, she made a muffled sound that might have been a sob and buried her face against his shoulder. "I just... overthink things, I guess," he murmured tentatively, stroking her hair. The words kept coming out, spilling over one another. "That's the way they made my brain work. Attack the problem, find a solution, but I can't, Moira, I can't figure it out..."

"Maybe ye jus' 'ave ta accept tha' I trust ye," she muttered, sniffling heavy, voice muffled. "Ye've earned me trust, ye dinnae 'ave ta...prove it. Always trusted ye an' it 'urts tha' ye dinnae believe me."

And there was the wall again, right there where he would run into it. He didn't want to hurt Moira, would do anything to keep from seeing her hurt, but here he was doing it. But if he let this drop, let his guard down, they would take advantage of it, they always did, and they would hurt her...

Pieces of his thought slipped over the link and she shuddered. "I dinnae know wha' ta tell ye," she admitted, face still buried in his neck. "All I know, is tha' I trust ye wit' everythin' tha' I am an' wish ta God ye'd accept tha'."

"I want to," he said haltingly, even as his thoughts kept spinning in circles, trying to find a way out.

Whimpering a little, Moira reached out to stroke the link, feeling the chaotic thoughts come through a bit. "Try?" she whispered. "For me? Nathan, I've trusted ye for seven years, I'm nay goin' ta stop any time soon."

The link just ached and Nathan squeezed his eyes shut, feeling her trembling slightly in his arms. He wasn't sure whether the raw feeling was her, or him, or both of them. "Just--don't let me lose you," he murmured, almost in a plea again. "I can't, I just can't..."

Moira shook her head violently. "Nay goin' ta lose me, nay matter wha' 'appens," she managed to get out. "Never."

Nathan kept his eyes closed, trying to concentrate on the here and now. On what was, rather than the possibilities that haunted him. "I'm sorry," he whispered, giving a weak chuckle. "We're supposed to be enjoying the afternoon. I'm a real downer at times."

"I yelled at ye, tha' dinnae 'elp," Moira reminded him, drawing back a little to wipe her eyes. "Dinnae apologize...ye wouldnae let me last night, would ye?"

"Yeah, well." He raised an unsteady hand, stroking the side of her face hesitantly. "I seem to make you cry an awful lot, for someone who doesn't want to hurt you."

"I cry because I love ye," Moira murmured, leaning into his touch with a sigh. "It's nay ye, it's...'ard ta really explain. Ye dinnae make me cry, if ye did, ye know it."

"I don't..." He trailed off, puzzled. "Okay," he said uncertainly. She seemed to believe it, even if he didn't understand.

She sighed. "Ye dinnae 'urt me, Nathan. In anyway. It 'urts because it gets so frustratin' at times, tha' I cannae 'elp. Ye make me verra, verra 'appy, cannae ye see tha'?"

Nathan stared down into her eyes for a long moment, wrestling with the distinction. "I just don't like it when you cry," he said lamely. "Me being selfish, I guess. My whole world lights up when you smile."

A smile did peek out at that statement and she reached up to smooth his hair. "Ye can be selfish as lon' as ye let me trust ye."

"Not supposed to be selfish," Nathan muttered distractedly. "Self isn't important. You fuck things up when you're selfish."

"Ye know, I've this giant urge ta smack ye in th' 'ead?" Moira sighed, even as she continued playing with his hair. "I want ye ta be selfish. We can learn together, all right?"

"I'm a very slow learner," Nathan said a bit wildly, with his best attempt at a smile. "You might have noticed that."

"Somethin's yer a verra quick learner on...others we can work on." She glanced over her shoulder. "'Tis gettin' late, love...wha' say we go back ta th' sub, catch some dinner an' then jus' 'old each other for a verra lon' time?"

"I think that sounds like a plan," Nathan said, trying not to sound too pathetic.

She leaned over to brush her lips against his. "I love ye, Nathan, dinnae ever forget tha'."

"I won't," he replied just as softly. It was the one thing he knew he could promise.

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She leaned over to brush her lips against his. "I love ye, Nathan, dinnae ever forget tha'."

"I won't," he replied just as softly. It was the one thing he knew he could promise.

*brightly* Oh, there's always mindwipes....