xp_logs | Marie-Ange and Nathan, Thursday evening

Marie-Ange stops by to see Nathan, as arranged, and proceeds to scare the crap out of him. She passes on some very alarming portents. He carries her to bed.

Not looking at all like her normal well-groomed, neatly-dressed self, in a pair of khaki pants, and a loose shirt, both obviously borrowed from Doug, with hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, and eyes still heavy with fatigue, Marie-Ange stood just outside the door to Nathan's office, trying to convince herself to knock. The problem was she was just too -tired- to get the direction from her brain to her arm. ~knock. knock.~ she thought.

Nathan looked up, frowning. #Angie?# he sent back, worried by the... fragility of her presence. #Come in, it's open.# She did, and his eyes widened a little. She looked even worse than she had in class. "Sit down," he said, honestly distressed, almost rising from his chair as part of his mind weighed the possibility that she wouldn't make it to the chair on the other side of the desk. She did, though, and he settled back down, eyeing her worriedly. "What's going on?"

"You wanted to see me about the not sleeping?" It was starting to get hard to string words together in coherant sentences. She knew what she wanted to say, but actually composing a sentence was more than just a trivial matter. "I'm not. Sleeping, I mean."

"I can see that." This time he did get up, coming around the desk and kneeling down in front of her, just about at eye level. "You have to sleep, Angie," he said unhappily, not liking the dazed look in her eyes. "What can I do to help?"

"No setting yourself on fire, okay?" That wasn't quite what she had wanted to say, and as Marie-Ange struggled to try to put words to the memory of visions of Nate, walking through rolling waves of flame, she shut her eyes. Which felt better than leaving them open, so she kept them that way.

Nathan blinked, then reached out and took her hands. "Angie, focus," he said softly, straining to project soothing thoughts. The images in her mind made his jaw clench, but he forced himself to keep his voice calm, low, reassuring. "I'm here. I'm not on fire. Tell me what else you see?"

Eyes still shut, Marie-Ange shook her head slowly. "Do you play a lot of chess?" she asked quietly. "Maybe you were playing it with Manuel or Amanda, I think they play chess, and it was not with me, because I play but I was -not- there. Or.. am not going to be there." Rubbing her forehead, she frowned. "Tenses aren't making sense anymore."

Nathan frowned. Fire, chess, Manuel and Amanda... "Is it recurring, any of it?" he asked, trying to pull her back to the here and now. "Must be," he went on, answering his own question, "if it's keeping you from sleeping."

"I made it a lot not better, by trying to make it easier to see." Marie-Ange patted the pocket on the side of her pants. "'manda and Manny's cards keep getting stuck though, so I stopped. It did not make it any easier to sleep, and Doug tried to sing me to sleep and it didn't work and I told him he can't stay up with me because he needs to sleep."

Nathan shook his head slowly. "Angie..." He stopped. "No," he said more firmly, then stood up. "Come on," he said, urging her up to her feet. "I'm taking you back to your room. Then I'm getting Doug. Then I'm going to go down and ask the doctors three what they suggest to put an overextended precog to sleep. It's too bad Amanda's out...." And he didn't have any of his store of the sleep potion left.

"'manda's out? Sleeping?" Marie-Ange frowned, obviously puzzled. "She needs tea, and honey, and lemons, or her voice won't come back." Standing was easy, she decided, once she stood up. It was -staying- standing that was the hard part, as her knees gave out, and she sank back down into the chair. "Walking is problematic."

No, the hair on the back of his neck did not need to stand up. He was, or had been a precog himself; this had no business creeping him out. "Then I'll fix the problem," he said briskly, scooping her up with ease. Angie wasn't tiny, but she wasn't particularly heavy, either. She gave what might have been a yelp if she hadn't sounded so tired, but then put her arms around his neck and let her head sag against his shoulder. "Now I'm seeing why I freaked people out so badly with my not-sleeping," he muttered, heading out the door.

For some reason, being carried made Marie-Ange feel like she was much higher off the ground than she actually was. "I try not to freak people out. Seeing things makes people nervous. 's why they don't ask for it." she said tiredly. "Especially Manny, and sometimes Doug, and you and not Mr. Marko, but all I ever see is the big red eye.. "

"Shh," Nathan said soothingly. "I know it does. You know I know." He wasn't making much sense himself, but somehow he thought Angie would understand. "But we see what we see, mi'saevra. Can't let it do this to us, though..."

"Can so." Marie-Ange replied, petulantly. "Sleep can wait, if no more people get set on fire."

He chuckled softly, shifting her in his arms a little as he started to climb the stars. "Last time I thought sleep could wait, I wound up just about losing my mind." She made a noise that was almost a whimper and he sighed, concentrating on projecting soothing thoughts again. "No one's on fire, Angie. I don't know what you're seeing, but it's not here. Not yet. We can sort it out once you're feeling better."

"No one is on fire yet. If you were on fire now then I would be on fire, or maybe .. " It was starting to get hard to translate properly, and Marie-Ange wasn't sure if French would be any better. "No fire today. Fire tomorrow. Always fire tomorrow."

"You're French, not Russian, kiddo. The pessimism doesn't suit you." He reached the top of the stairs and headed down the hall to her room. No one else was in, so he got her settled on the bed, then straightened, pondering options. Definitely needed to locate a Doug. But what then?

Snuggling up to a stuffed bear, dressed in what looked like a set of greek robes, Marie-Ange burrowed under her sheets, and yawned. "Not pessimistic. Just .. lots of fire. Always dreams about fire." She pulled one of her pillows half over her head, mostly to block out any potential odd noises from Clarice or Monet, and again yawned. "Might sleep for a week. Can I get a re-take on quizzes?"

Nathan covered her with a blanket, 'nudging' her telepathically as much as he dared. Putting people to sleep was one of the things he was good at, but Angie's mind was unique and he didn't want to push too hard. "You sleep as long as you want," he said gently. "Don't worry about the quizzes. I'm fully in favor of exemptions for getting mauled by the future."