[Paul, Nathan] Cable, Northstar, and Hello Kitty, running the Whiskey Tango Foxtrot program...

[x-vega.livejournal.com]

Um, how to sum this one up.  There is no way.  You just have to read it.  Two crazy men, one Hello Kitty, and a talk that ends up being about what it is to be part of a team -- or is that a family?

...that's pretty much what we do anyway, isn't it?
What Paul really wanted was dinner. What he got was a nice fresh IV bag. Hank pointed out that being hungry meant he was getting better. Paul pointed out that being the doctor was only going to get Hank a head start at running away if he was going to keep being cheerful. Yes, he was clean (or as clean as he stayed these days) and sort of fed and he'd slept most of the last 24 hours. He still wasn't happy. His SOS to Nate had gone unanswered and Hello Kitty was staring at him. "Don't think about it," he murmured sleepily at the toy. "I can take you."

"I don't know," Nathan said from the doorway, quietly. "She looks pretty tough." Paul blinked at him, and he waved a tube of moisturizer tentatively. "I, um. Would have been down sooner."

"Oh, thank God." Paul rolled over slowly and sprawled on his back, looking like the movement had tired him out already. "What did you bring me? I can't see straight at this distance. Is that one of mine?" He held his hand for the tube. He was healing fast but the result was itching and peeling (and he wasn't allowed to scratch or pick) that were driving him mad by degrees.

Nathan nodded. "Stopped in at your room," he said quietly, coming over to the bed and sitting down in the chair there, handing the tube over. "I hope it's what you had in mind."

"Good, good." Paul squinted at the tube. "Yes." He sat up, wincing, and tried to take his shirt off. "You're a godsend." Pausing in the process of trying to get undressed, he peered up at Nathan. "What'd you do this time?"

"Do?" Nathan asked vaguely. "Nothing... didn't do anything. Can I help you with the shirt?"

"Please." Paul wriggled out of his shirt with Nathan's help. "You're suspiciously quiet and subdued," he noted. "What'd you put your foot in?" He dug his too-long nails into one shoulder and peeled away dead flesh, exactly what he wasn't supposed to do, with a vaguely nauseated expression.

Nathan winced at the sight, but didn't try and point out that it wasn't maybe the best thing to be doing. Not the doctor, Dayspring... "I didn't," he said just as quietly, folding Paul's shirt, for lack of anything better to do. "Actually slept for part of the afternoon, even."

"Spill. Entertain me." Paul pointed at the chair. He sighed and ran his fingers over his face. Much of the skin had peeled away, leaving areas of pink and silver instead of the red blisters and raw sores that been there before. "Distract me from the fact that I'm still a troll." He squeezed cream into one palm and then started dabbing it on his face.

"Nothing to spill," Nathan said a bit defensively. "Talked to Shiro. Haroun. Shinobi. Then Moira. Then I napped, and then I went and hugged Amanda for a while. Busy day. I'm tired."

"Overdid it," Paul said uncritically. His hair was mostly clean, pulled back under a bandana to keep it out of his face so he'd stop tugging it to see if it were falling out yet. His arm itched and he scratched at it since his shirt was off and the skin pulled away. He blinked at it and shrugged. Nothing bleeding, that was good.

Nathan couldn't help a faint smile at Paul's fidgeting. "You should see my schedule for tomorrow," he said. "Manuel in the morning, then Jack's finally going to come by. Then I'm meeting Lorna in the afternoon to talk about training..."

"Don't learn, do you?" Paul said, smiling at Nathan. He shook his head slowly, noting that it hurt less now.

"I'll make sure I sleep tonight. Generally a good idea, before sessions with Manuel. This'll be our first..." He paused, his eyes going a bit distant. "Well, since before Mistra."

Paul looked over at Nathan and sighed. "You're just a brick wall, aren't you? Like I said to Moira; high-maintenance." Paul looked at his nails. "I need a manicure," he said absently before returning his attention to Nathan. "You still coming to the Gunks with me Thursday?"

Nathan actually gaped at him. "What... climbing? On Thursday?" He blinked at Paul, who nodded. "You've got to be kidding. Hank really thinks you'll be back on your feet by then?"

"Haven't asked him," Paul said blithely, rubbing cream on his arms with a deep sigh. "God, my elbows," he mourned, scraping at the skin with his nails. "That had better peel off, damnit. I hate scaly elbows."

Nathan laughed suddenly. And laughed, until Paul started looking at him as if he'd just gone insane. Which he had, maybe. "Ohh... shit," he wheezed finally, getting control of himself. "Why the hell not? Join me in pissing off the medstaff, it's really not such a bad thing once you get used to it. They give you dirty looks, but hey!"

"Hey, at least I'm not living with one of them," Paul said lightly. "Besides, what's the worst that can happen?"

Breathe, idiot. Nathan concentrated on doing just that for a moment, and that wild outburst of mirth died away as quickly as it had come. "Climbing," he said almost wistfully. "That'd be awfully nice, you know. But are either of us actually going to be in the shape for it by Thursday? You're still looking Dobby-ish."

"Hush." Paul gave Nathan a narrow blue glare. "Don't be so shallow. Unless you're embarassed to be seen with me in public," he added with a pout. "I could grab an inducer from Hank if you're going to be that way."

He really couldn't see Paul being in any shape to climb by Thursday. He looked better, but... "I am very shallow," Nathan agreed. "We'll see if the image inducer is necessary, hmm?"

"I'll be fine." Paul showed off a pale pink forearm, the skin so thin his pulse showed under the surface in his veins; a regular, smooth little ripple. "Almost new again. Besides, I think that I have a right to decide what to do with myself, right? Decide what my limits are and all. Hello Kitty agrees with me." He pointed at the stuffed toy on the bedside table.

"And Hello Kitty is wise," Nathan said, knowing he was sounding a little bit on the cracked side, but surely Paul wouldn't mind.

"You realize that you're agreeing with a half-naked irradiated man who can't remember the last week and change of his life and a stuffed toy wearing a purple kilt, don't you?" Paul eyed Nathan with some concern.

Nathan thought about it. "Yes?" he asked very meekly. "And I like the kilt. Very high-fashion."

"I hope you survive yourself, Dayspring," Paul said dryly. He stretched and reached to scratch between his shoulderblades. His ribs stood out, sharp and straining at patches of fragile new skin. "Not got the sense God gave a goose, as Madame Martin would say. Good thing people love you easy."

"Natural defensive measure," Nathan said with a sigh, slouching in the chair. "Along with the puppy-dog eyes, Moira would probably say." It felt good to rest his head on the back of the chair. "You're not serious about the climbing, are you?"

"Hell, yes, I'm serious." Paul scratched one hipbone through the green scrubs he was wearing. "The idea is about the only thing keeping me from trying to get out of here right now." He slumped back, eyes closed. "This is a very small room with no windows. Very underground. I look like a dead man and feel about as good. It smells like dying down here. I keep telling myself that if I'm good and don't rip out this IV and go screaming out of here, I can go climbing on Thursday."

Nathan took a deep breath, regretting his shaky hold on his telepathy even more now. He could have... well, he couldn't, so he might as well not even think about it. "Then that's what we'll do," he said. Not humoring Paul, just agreeing. Stranger things had happened. Stupider things had been done. Why not? "Climbing. And the doctors can yell at their leisure."

Okay, that was enough of that, Paul told himself. Just a room, just a bed. The IV was necessary and temporary. He was getting better. That's what he did. He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. "I'd rather fall than be buried," he said without thinking about what he was really saying.

"I think we all would," Nathan said quietly, calmly. "At least when you fall, you have a heck of a view on the way down."

Paul opened his eyes and gave Nathan a tired smile. "Thanks, Nate."

Nathan shrugged a bit, returning the smile. "For? Perching at your bedside and making you doubt my sanity by chatting to your Hello Kitty? No stretch, really." He gave the stuffed animal a serious look. "I think he's starting to suspect," he confided. "We might have to speed up the timetable."

"For being my friend," Paul said drowsily. "Don't make me beat you with Hello Kitty, Dayspring. I almost killed you with a pillow, think of the damage a plushie could do." He rolled over on his side, half-curling with one hand tucked under his cheek so he could see Nathan clearly.

Nathan's innocent look faded into a tentative smile. "Um... welcome?" he said, trying for a light tone. "And please don't beat me with the Hello Kitty," he said, a little more briskly. "You can, um, wait and do it in the Danger Room if you want. Much more dignified."

Paul laughed quietly at him. "That'd be something to explain in the logs," he said, amused. "Cable, Northstar, and Hello Kitty, running the Whiskey Tango Foxtrot program with the safeties off. Actually, that's pretty much what we do anyway, isn't it?"

Nathan made a noise of agreement, regarding Paul with a hesitant sort of thoughtfulness. "I was going to ask you something," he said after a moment. "Once you were back on your feet, I mean."

Paul quirked one eyebrow, smiling a little mischeviously. "Oh?"

"Friday got me thinking," Nathan said, his fingers tapping at the arm of the chair almost restlessly. "In the one little corner of my mind the headache wasn't taking up. And talking with Moira this afternoon got me thinking more about it..." He shook his head slowly. "I didn't do very well on Friday," he said. "Not really. Oh, I caught the plane, yay, me, but one appropriate action doesn't really translate into doing well." He stopped again, swallowing. "And I did less well in that warehouse. If I had headed for Alison when I should have, maybe gotten out of Simon's range... but no, I threw myself at Morgan and forgot the whole concept of strategic retreat."

Paul propped himself up on one elbow to listen, expression serious. "I won't argue with that."

Nathan didn't go on for a moment, too busy trying to organize his thoughts. "I want to be an X-Man," he said finally, seriously. "I do, and the Askani are over the moon at the idea... but I'm not up to it. Not as I am, at least. I don't have the right kind of experience, and..." He paused, remembering his words to Moira. His jaw tightened a little. "And, I have trust issues enough for ten people."

Paul nodded slowly. "And, honestly, you have some shitty instincts, Nate," he said quietly. "So on and so forth; I don't need to tell you, I don't think. You're right on all counts."

Nathan nodded slowly, silent for another long moment before a faint smile tugged at his lips. "Any ideas on how to fix it?" He gestured a bit aimlessly. "That was, um, what I was going to ask you, basically." His expression tightened again, despite himself. "It's still a stretch to think of non-lethal uses for my TK in a crisis situation, you know. Even now."

"Practice," Paul said, leaning back in the pillows again. Damn exhaustion. His eyes, sunk deep in his sharp-featured face, were intense as he spoke to Nathan. "A lot of it. Every day. But you're going to have to get to a point where you can choose the strategic approach, Nate. Saving your stamina for a rainy day, that sort of thing. Do you know what I'm saying? Right now, the only thing reliable about you is that your power is unreliable; a lot of the time, it's because you can't stop yourself from overdoing it. No criticism if that's how you want to live your life. But if you want on a team, you're not making choices just for you anymore. You have to be fit when the call comes."

Nathan listened closely as Paul went on, concentrating on the logic behind it all and trying to push the part of him that protested that there was no such thing as overdoing it to one side. It wasn't true, after all. Look at him now. "I've never really known how to save anything," he said slowly. "Stamina-wise, I mean. I don't think I really realize just how much of a pattern I was in at Mistra for all those years. Even with the Pack. There was the mission, the objective, and then getting back to report in. Initiation, completion, assessment. They used to quote that at us like a mantra...."

"You're used to being a tool, not a resource," Paul said. "And being a thing, not a person. Big changes. You have value." He pointed his finger at Nathan, frowning to keep his focus. "If the X-Men are anything like Alphaflight this way, the machine metaphor doesn't apply here. You won't have the luxury of just being a cog, Nate, if you go this way. Yes; good of the many outweighs the good of the one or the few. But the good of the many also depends on the good of the one or the few. That is part of being on a team. We are organic. Hurt to you is hurt to us; individuals and the whole. Are you ready for that?"

Well, he wouldn't be able to say now that Paul had never given him food for thought. "The luxury of being a cog," Nathan said slowly, his eyes distant. "I never thought of it that way. But you're right." He sighed, almost wistfully. "Sounds like you're talking about family. That's what it's supposed to be? Family?"

"I wouldn't know," Paul said quietly. "I think so, though. In the best of worlds, I expect they're almost indistinguishable."

"I've got to think," Nathan said with a sigh. "A lot. I'm getting more tired just thinking about it." He smiled at Paul, a bit wryly. "And I'm probably wearing you out, pulling you into one of these terribly intense conversations."

Paul shrugged and smiled back, relaxing into the pillows.  "This from a man who braves Hello Kitty to bring me my moisturizer.  Least I can do."

Nathan took a deep breath and then let it out. "What a day," he quipped. "I should let you sleep. I need to go up and make sure Amanda is still on my couch where she's supposed to be."

"Take care of our witch," Paul said, and his expression was completely serious.  "And you sleep too, Nate.  Consider it practice for making the team."

"I'm going right to bed as soon as I check on her," Nathan admitted, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he rose. "See? Not a totally lost cause."

"Never thought you were, Dayspring."  Paul pulled the blankets up, feeling totally wrung out.  At least he wasn't so damned itchy now.  "Wouldn't have wasted my time on you otherwise.  You're hot, but you're not /that/ hot."  The grin, wan as it was, had most of Paul's usual mischief behind it.

Nathan chuckled. "Night," he said gently, heading for the door. "Let me know you need anything tomorrow. I promise not to laugh at any future messages."

"I will," Paul promised sleepily.  "Night, Nate."