xp_logs | Amanda and Nathan, Saturday morning (Reply)

Amanda finally goes to see him. It turns out to have been precisely what she needed. Nathan is still afraid of waking up back at Mistra.

Amanda paused outside the bedroom door, torn. She needed to see him, confirm for herself he was all right, but she was shit scared, to put it bluntly. Scared he'd still be that cold-eyed killer she'd seen in his head, scared he wouldn't remember her, scared he would... This was stupid, she told herself. Just get it over and done with. She tapped softly on the door.

Another knock. Nathan opened his eyes, blinking a bit blearily. "Come in," he called after a moment, wondering how long he'd been asleep. The whole sleeping thing was getting a bit annoying already...

With another anxious glance at Moira (who nodded encouragingly), Amanda pushed the door open, trying not to wince at the sight of Nate looking so beaten and battered - emotionally, rather than physically, althougth Pete had left some marks. "Hey," she said hesitantly, closing the door behind her and leaning back against it, rather than coming to the bed.

Nathan stared at her for a long, silent moment, trying to stay calm. Didn't want to trigger Charles' posthypnotic suggestion. Not when she was here, and... "Hey," he murmured, pushing himself up a little and then relaxing back against the pillows. She was still standing over by the door, looking noticeably skittish, and the ache in his chest was suddenly overwhelming. "I... you okay, Trouble?" His voice wavered a little.

Trouble. He'd called her Trouble. She nodded, unwilling to trust her voice over the sudden rush of emotion - fuck, she was tired of crying. "I'll live," she said at last. "How 'bout you?"

He wanted her to come over here, Nathan thought with a sudden surge of yearning. Instead of standing over there by the door watching him like that. But it was probably too much to ask, after everything.... His eyes were drooping again, already, and he struggled to keep them open. "Tired," he muttered faintly. "So tired..."

Moira had said something about the Professor making him sleep when he got too emotional... Emotional was possibly a good thing. Or bad. It depended on the emotion. She hesitated again, then came over to the bed, but didn't sit down, not yet. "Think I hit you too hard with that spell," she said with a small smile.

"Charles told me...." The drowsiness eased back a little and he looked up at her, managing a lopsided smile. "So... proud of you," he went on, his voice hoarse. "And really thankful. Think I might have killed Pete if that went on too much longer..." No. Not going there, not going there, because he wasn't going to fall asleep again...

"I thought yer'd be angry," she admitted. "Sneakin' up on you like that. But I couldn't just sit there." No matter how much she'd wanted to. "Pete's all right," she hazarded. "A bit banged up, but then again, so're you." She reached out towards his hand, hating the way her hand was shaking - had been, since Nate had been taken. "'M glad yer home."

"Angry..." He raised his hand, took hers, squeezing it gently. "No," he murmured, not looking away from her eyes for a moment. "Did what you had to do.... did it brilliantly. So proud." He smiled a bit feebly, his eyes stinging again as he struggled with everything he had against the urge to sleep. "Owe you big, mi'caehla... for me, and Pete..."

Daughter. He called her... The wavering self-control broke, and a hiccuping sob escaped her. "I was so scared we'd lost you," she managed, abandoning any shred of restraint and practically flinging herself at him - gently, though, since he was still banged-up from the fight. "I tried t' find you, only the spell wouldn't work..." she sobbed into his shoulder, holding onto him for dear life.

Oh, he was crashing hard. He could feel it. But the emotions that were pushing him there were good ones. "Thought I'd never see you again," he murmured weakly, holding onto her as tightly as he could. Tears were trickling down his face, and he didn't fight them. "You and Moira... and then you were there yesterday, and I saw you. But I couldn't do anything... "

It felt good, letting it all go. She'd been so tightly wound, since Asgard, since Columbia, that she'd stopped noticing it. "You tried," she sniffled. "I know you did. 'Cause otherwise yer'd have taken out the Prof straight away, or you would've ... killed Pete." She choked the word out from where it had been lying heavy in her chest. Either of them could have killed the other, if things had been different, if the spell hadn't worked. "You tried," she repeated, hanging onto that like a lifeline.

"Their mistake," he whispered, his eyes closing. "Letting me remember..." So many reasons to fight. "Hate myself for putting Pete in that position... he was the only one, though...."

Did he mean...? Amanda wasn't sure, and she was too tired, too wrung out to pursue it, especially when Nate was obviously only barely awake himself. "He'll understand," she whispered, shifting so she was curled next to him, his arm wrapped around her and her head on his shoulder. So tired, and so not moving anywhere for an hour or two. "Pete knows the score."

"Not fair," Nathan murmured, his voice breaking a little again. He let the air in his lungs out on a shaky sigh. "Could've been Dom. That would've been even worse..."

That didn't bear thinking on. "Shh..." she murmured. "Don't make it worse."

It was all catching up to him finally. All the might-have-beens, all the possibilities... Nathan's breath caught in his chest, and the sleepiness got overwhelming suddenly, too much to resist. "Stick... around for a bit?" he whispered. "Please...? Don't want to wake up and be anywhere else..."

"Not goin' anywhere," came the tired reply, followed by a small hand determindly grabbing a handful of his shirt. "Wild horses an' all of that." She didn't say she was scared of the same thing, that'd he be gone when she woke up. "Not gon' anywhere, either of us," she repeated.