Rory and Manuel and then Rory and Moira

[x-mactaggart.livejournal.com]

Manuel and Rory run into each other as Manny and Amanda arrive on Muir. Rory's still upset about Moira and coupled with Manuel's fear of Rory from the dream, things don't go smoothly. Moira comes out and rescues Manuel and then turns on the other doctor and gets somethings across to him.



Manuel was, in a word, cold. London's weather had cooperated for the duration of their entire stay there, but the further north they traveled, the fouller the weather got. By the time they got to Muir, Manuel had his jacket out, two layers of shirts, gloves, and his stylish-yet-warm knit cap on. The drive itself was uneventful, save for the occasional shiver. His traveling companions did not even seem to notice the cold, preferring instead to wear long-sleeve shirts and jeans. How they kept from freezing to death Manuel had no idea.

Rory had decided that a walk around the castle was probably best for his state of mind. Ever since Moira and Nathan had landed on Muir, she and he hadn't spoken more than ten words at each other. It confused him that she could, and would, stay that angry at him for this long. He had avoided Nathan fairly well and hadn't yet seen the kids that were supposed to arrive. He blinked as he rounded the corner. "Speaking of..." he muttered to himself. Rory took a deep breath and wondered about heading back but decided against it. "You look like you'd much rather be inside than outside," he called, slowing his walk.

Manuel let Amanda handle the arrangements of getting the luggage moved in and the car driver paid off and all of that, because when he got one look at the slender man with the cane it took all his will to keep his jaw from dropping. He had seen that man - well, him many years later. A genetic butcher, a new Hitler for a new age. Swallowing heavily, he nodded in what he hoped was a friendly manner. "It's cold out here." he said. "We just arrived - my name is Manuel. You would be ... Rory, si?"

He remembered, vaguely, Moira mentioning a student by that name at that school of hers. Rory nodded as well. "Yes. I take it Moira's mentioned me?" There was a foolish bit of pleasure at that. Maybe she was still angry but if the students knew who he was, then perhaps the anger might go away. His glance flickered over to the girl walking inside but flickered back to Manuel, seeing as the other one looked hell-bent on finding Moira and Nathan.

Manuel watched Amanda walk into the Muir Island Research Center with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He clamed down on the link, to keep his distress from spoiling her fun. "A time or two before, I believe." he said, seeing the anger and trying his damndest not to flame it into wrath. "Taking a walk?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

"It's a beautiful day out and the Center tends to get a bit...stuffy," Rory said, leaning on his cane to take the weight off his leg for a minute as he rested. "How was the drive? From the looks of it, you two came a bit of a ways." The boy was starting to look uncomfortable and he had no idea why.

Manuel looked at the sky and the clouds and everything else but Rory before answering. "If you say so. I'm from Spain, I like my days a little warmer than this." He shivered violently as he talked, but the body-movement helped. He couldn't get the image of Ahab out of his mind, and it was starting to seriously mess with him. "Do you like dogs?" he asked randomly.

The question was unexpected and Rory blinked. "Well...I suppose I do," he responded, slowly. "No more than any other animals. Moira's the one with the keen love of them. Why, are you worried we have dogs here?"

Manuel shook his head - the answer was clearly the right one. "No, no worries. I like dogs. They're okay." Manuel closed his eyes for a second as another shivering fit came over him, and he used the distraction to seriously concentrate on getting his emotions in order. The man wasn't going to put on a hundred pounds of weight and start collaring mutants right there and then, he told himself.

"Are you quite all right?" Moira would have his head if something happened to one of her students, he knew. "To be frank, you look like you've seen a ghost."

"I think the trip disagreed with me." he said, in the understatement of the century. "Is there a room set aside for Amanda and myself for a day or two?"

"Probably. The castle has a lot of unused rooms, we use the lower levels between the residential area and basements for the Center. Moira planned all of this, so you'd have to find her." A flash of annoyance coupled with anger and regret passed through him, he hadn't known about this until a few days ago.

Manuel reeled as Rory's emotions ripped through him. His discipline was dust; the Mirror was back out in force. "It's OK, I'll find it. Don't want to be a bother to anyone." he said, hoping Rory would take the hint.

Rory frowned. "You sure you're going to be all right?" he asked, reaching out for him as he appeared to stumble back a step. "I may be one less of a real leg, but I can still give you a hand." An attempt at a joke to lighten the mood but Rory was wondering what on earth was wrong with the young man.

"I'll be fine." he gritted out, his head swimming with dire portents of the future combined with Rory's own chaotic emotions. Behind his dark sunglasses, his eyes glowed red as he tried to quell Rory's interest in him. "I'm perfectly capable of finding it on my own."

Rory started to object, he was a doctor after all and there was something wrong, when he was interrupted. "Manuel, everythin' all right?"

He turned, Moira was coming down the steps towards them at a good speed. Her eyes narrowed slightly at Rory but she looked concerned as she stepped between him and Manuel. "Amanda asked me ta come get ye, she's busy squealin' at th' state o' th' room ye've got," she joked, voice calm. "An' ye look like yer about ta turn inta a Spanish popsicle if'n ye dinnae get inside. There's hot chocolate waitin' for ye."

Manuel looked over to Moira with a wave of gratitude. Literally - his eyes were glowing behind his glasses. "Hot chocolate sounds just perfect - do you have anything to add to it to take the chill off of Spanish bones?" he said thoughtlessly, forgetting of Moira's alcoholism. He then turned to head up into the Center, still shivering from the lack-of-heat.

"Ask Nathan," she called, "'ell know where it 'tis."

Manuel waves a hand back at Moira to acknowledge, seeking more of the warmth, the hot chocolate, Amanda, and to not be around Rory - in that order.

As soon as Manuel was gone, Moira turned around and glared. “Wha’ were ye doin’ ta ‘im?” she demanded, hands on her hips.

Rory looked taken aback. “What the bloody hell did I do know?” he asked, tossing a hand up in the air. “All I did to the boy was meet him when he and that girl arrived. He’s the one who started looking like he was going to have either bolt or faint.”

“Where ye bein’ angry, again?” she asked, suddenly, studying him carefully.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Rory replied dryly. “Maybe just a little perturbed that you didn’t let me know until recently you and yours were coming. Maybe because all my e-mails to you haven’t been answered. So, maybe just a little irritated, but I don’t see what that has to do with Manuel.”

“Ye bloody idiot!” Moira exploded, causing Rory to step back in shock. “I *told* ye in th’ e-mail I sent ye tha’ Manuel’s an *empat’*. But wha’, did ye get ta th’ part where I mentioned Nathan was comin’ an’ deleted it? Goddamn it, Rory, ye could ‘ave done some real ‘arm jus’ then!”

Rory paled a bit. An empath, that boy? He shook his head and gritted his teeth. “Maybe if you had answered my e-mails, I wouldn’t have down something like that.”

“O’, nay ye dinnae, ye are nay blamin’ this on me, Rory,” she snapped, seething. “Manuel was pickin’ up on whatever ye were projectin’ because ye were ta petty ta finish readin’ wha’ I ‘ad ta say.”

She turned on her heel and started towards the door, hands clenched at her sides. Rory cursed and hobbled after her, finally reaching forward and grabbing her arm. Moira paused and looked over her shoulder, glaring.

“Damn it, woman, I’m sorry. Will you stop for a second so we can talk?”

Slowly, Moira shook herself out of his grasp but she didn’t leave. “So talk,” she replied, jaw tight.

“I’m sorry. For now, for Manuel…and for last time. I said somethings that I shouldn’t have, not at that time, and I’m sorry.”

Moira shook her head slowly. “I dinnae believe ye.” There was sadness in her voice. “Ye’ve disliked Nathan for years, Rory. An’ ‘tis skyrocketed since we got together. An’ ye won’t let it drop.”

“Neither will…”

“Aye, ‘e will an’ ‘e would. If I asked.” She gazed at him. “Nathan doesnae dislike ye because o’ who ye are…’e dislikes ye because o’ ‘ow ye react ta ‘im an’ treat me.”

“I don’t mistreat you!” Rory protested, frustrated.

“Nay. But ye treat me like ye expected ta never change. An’ when I did, ye ‘ad a ‘uge fit ‘bout it even when th’ change was for me good.”

“I’m losing you to him.”

“Yer losin’ me friendship ta yer mistakes, nay wha’ Nathan’s doin’ right.” Moira closed her eyes and sighed. “I love Nathan, Rory. I willnae stop any time soon.”

Rory’s head dropped slightly. “…I know,” he admitted, grip tightening on the cane. “But, damn it, Moira I feel like I’m being tossed to the side.”

“Then get over yerself. I’m serious, Rory. Stop tryin’ ta think thin’s are goin’ back ta th’ way they were. Yer me friend, a good one, an’ I dinnae want ta lose ye. But yer pushin’ me away wit’ all o’ this. Think ‘bout tha’ an’ maybe we’ll talk later.”

With that, Moira turned around and walked quickly back into the keep, not looking back. Rory cursed and kicked at a small rock before turning around and finishing up his walk, trying not to think of redheads or empaths.