[Paul, Nate] Ali: Well. Whoa. :) / Ande: They are on so much old man crack.

[x-vega.livejournal.com]

Gah.  How to summarize?  Okay, Nate is antsy and can't sleep so he brings Paul a CD of Askani music (feat. Alison!) and fills Paul in on the world above.  Paul coerces Nate into practicing saying "no". Nate admits that he can't help Manuel any further right now.  Yes.  Nate has limits, OMG.  Then they talk about Dom and broken noses and Nate gets optimistic and Paul has to threaten him with Hello Kitty to calm him down.  Paul tries to get Nate to set him up with Jack Leary and fails.  Nate admits to being whipped.  Paul approves.  They talk about glitter, crafts, knitting, and Go.  Then Paul falls prey to Nathan's evil scheme to make him sleepy with Askani lullabies.  There! 

Whole lot of smart, no wise to speak of.
It was very, very ironic. With all the time he'd spent in the medlab, he should logically have been trying to avoid it as much as possible when he didn't have to be in there. But yet here he was, down here again for... what, the fourth day in a row? Oh, well, Nathan thought, seeing that Paul's door was half-open. "I, um, coming bearing gifts?" he called quietly.

Paul blinked sleepily and looked toward the door. "Nate?"  His vocal cords were working a lot better today.  This was good.  He was certain he'd been awake... two hours ago.  Damnit.  "Come on in."

Nathan came in, smiling tentatively. "You both sound and look better," he said, his fingers flicking against the CD case restlessly. "This is good. Want some company?"

"Yeah, of course."  Paul frowned a little and pushed himself up.  "You okay?"  The smile was tentative; Nate wasn't usually tentative like that. 

"Fine... just fine," Nathan said immediately. He came over to the chair beside the bed, but hesitated, not sitting down. "So Hello Kitty didn't replicate herself during the night or anything, did she?" he asked, his eyes roaming the room. "I had a very odd dream that she did and I came down to find you sitting on a pile of the damned things. I woke up laughing and Moira thought I was nuts."

Paul smiled at that but wasn't diverted from his scrutiny of Nathan's expression and behaviour.  "No, no tribble-events down here.  You'd have heard from Hank about it by now otherwise.  Nate."  Paul snapped his fingers to get Nathan's attention.  "Hey, Dayspring."  His voice was gentle.  "C'mon.  Sit."  He gestured to the chair.

Nathan jumped a little at the snap, but sank down into the chair, turning the CD case over in his hands. "Some of the work Alison's done on the Askani music project so far," he said, then forced himself to stop fiddling and hand it to Paul. "I thought... well, it's just piano for now, we haven't even thought about duplicating their instruments yet, but I thought you might like to hear some of it."

"Thanks."  Paul took the CD from him and leaned back in the pillows, frowning a little again.  "You're not okay," he said.  "Just an observation; don't feel obligated to respond to it.  Thought you might have missed it, that's all."  He put the CD in the CD player Moira had brought him but didn't turn it on.  "You can tell me about the strange upperworld instead."

Nathan opened his mouth at Paul's first words, then closed it again. "Nothing blew up today?" he offered a bit lamely. "There were joyful reunions and somewhat tearful departures and suicide threats, and a boat."

"Not blowing up is good," Paul said sagely.  "I think I'll skip asking about the suicide threat because I'm not very keen on those. You can fill me in on the departure news, though.  Reunions are happy, so are boats.  I like boats.  Love to sail, actually.  You can tell me about those too."

"Jamie's Kitty came back, and Dom's gone nuke-hunting in Kashmir," Nathan said. "It was all very cute. Much with the joyous cooing in both cases. And the boat..." He stopped, unable to quite keep the strain out of his voice or off his face as he went on. "I took Amanda out in the boat with Bella. She needed some away time. The witch, not the bird. That was after Jack was here, because before Jack was here I was with Manuel, and well, the less said about that whole episode the better."

Paul sighed and shook his head.  "Lucky Kashmir.  Lucky Dom.  I love that area."  He scratched at his thigh through his scrubs and made a face.  "Manuel sounds like a handful," he said blandly.  "Who's Jack?  Tell me he's a devastatingly handsome friend of yours who'll be back in a couple weeks when I'm pretty again."

Nathan blinked and laughed. It came out sounding rattled, but not too much so. "Um, sorry to disappoint. Jack would be my therapist. Not that he's unattractive, I suppose - although really, I never stopped to think about it before. I've always thought his patience was his most admirable quality. He hasn't thrown anything at my head yet."

"No throwing.  I'm good with the no throwing."  Paul laughed back at Nathan.  "And patient.  I like him already.  So, was it a good visit for you, then?"

Nathan stopped, blinking. "I don't... you know, I hadn't really stopped to think about it yet?" The laugh that slipped out did sound overly edgy this time, and he bit his lip, hard. "First there was Manuel deciding Shiro had a good idea, then I saw Jack, then I found out Amanda's been abusing her magic again and I had to get her out of the house before she fell apart..."

Paul reached over and turned on the CD player, letting the music spill out at a level just loud enough for a normal person to hear it, then settled back into the pillows.  "Breathe."  Paul was relaxed, languid even, lying back in bed and watching Nathan from under his lowered lashes.  "It's done for now."  He didn't want to be involved, didn't really care about any of it except the way the ripples of all of it washed up on the shores of his awareness when Nathan was around.  If Nathan wanted to be upset, he was welcome to it, but it was a waste of energy.

The delicate, almost ethereal harmonies of one of the Askani hymns, still so eerie even when translated to piano, reached him, piercing the frantic haze of his thoughts. Nathan let the air in his lungs out on a sigh, his eyes closing almost involuntarily as he listened. "Funny," he murmured after a moment, his voice still uneven but calmer. "I thought I brought that down for you."

"You did," Paul said quietly, smiling at Nathan.  "But I'm a good sharer.  Besides, you're better company when you're not wound tighter than an E-string.  It's very beautiful music.  I'm glad you brought it."

His breathing more regular, Nathan relaxed slowly into the chair. "We've just scratched the surface of it, too," he said after another long pause, keeping his voice low. "So much locked away up here," he tapped a finger against his temple, "just waiting to be written down." He sighed again. "I suppose if I were a smart man, I'd spend more time doing that and less..." Well, that would have been a selfish thing to say, Nathan thought suddenly, his jaw tightening.

"Less time putting your nose in where you're liable to get it bit off?" Paul finished for him.  "You're wrong though.  You are a smart man, Nate.  Whole lot of smart, no wise to speak of.  You need to work on the wise."

Nathan rubbed at the back of his neck, wincing a bit as knotted muscles protested loudly. The hymn ended, and one of the dance tunes began, sprightly and whimsical. Very much at odds with his mood. "It doesn't ever stop," he said with a sigh, "and I don't know how to step back."

"Life doesn't stop, Nate."  Paul held up his hand.  "This sounds a lot like Bach... the bouree from suite two in B minor," he noted, smiling.  "You could put a ballet to that.  This is what we were talking about the other day, about reserves and resources and you.  Somehow, if you're not bleeding from the nose and shaking in the knees, you're not doing enough, and that's bullshit."

"Fuck it," Nathan said drearily, and then laughed again, humorlessly. "Seriously. Just fuck it all... I don't know, maybe just for a day? There's a plan. I'll go back to picking up pieces, mine and anyone else's, on Thursday. Someone else can keep Manuel from being stupid, and it's not like Amanda doesn't have half a dozen people willing to look after her. She doesn't need the one who's been the cause of half her stress in the first place." He shook his head, his eyes going distant, as if he were staring through the far wall. "It can all just go away, whether it wants to stop or not. I'm too fucking tired for this."

"Yes, you are," Paul said mildly.  "And if you could actually let it go for a day, I'd be very happy for you.  I wish you could, but I'm not sure you can.  You might, if you're a very good boy, make it through tonight, though."

"I could always try locking myself in my room. That worked, once. Well..." Nathan hesitated, unable to help a weary flicker of a smile. "Almost worked. Amanda tried to talk to me through the door, and then Rahne came up and insisted on feeding me."

"You have to be the one to say no.  I'm very good at it."  Paul looked smug.  "For example, if I were not bored witless and had not just woken up from a nap, I would say: 'Nate.  Sod off, I am tired and I can't really help.  I am useless at this shit.  Go talk to your girlfriend as she will get snuggled as compensation and I will not.  Or call Jack.  Really.'  See?  So easy."  He grinned impishly at Nathan.  "You try it."

Nathan chuckled, but shook his head at himself. Yes, he was just the most restful company on earth for a convalescent... "Sod off, Manuel," he said whimsically, his eyes drifting up to the ceiling. "Go scare the crap out of Charles for a few weeks." The sudden rush of yearning, at the idea of actually saying that to Manuel, was almost overwhelming.

"See?"  Paul pointed at Nathan, seeing the change in his expression.  "It's good, isn't it?  And it's right.  You know it.  You're in over your head, aren't you?  You need to say it."

"With him?" Nathan sighed, but the tension didn't immediately coming rushing back, wonder upon wonders. "Objectively speaking? Yeah, almost certainly." His mouth twitched. "The first time we met, I nearly killed him."

"Nate."  Paul pushed himself forward, making sure Nathan wasn't going to look away from him.  "What else could you be doing if you weren't investing in this kid?  You're hurting yourself because it's part of your programming, and you know it.  You haven't accomplished your objective and you don't know how to step back.  Let Charles handle him for a while, at least while you get your strength back.  You're dead on your feet half the time.  How's that helping the school?  Or the X-Men?  Look, I don't give a shit if this is how you want to waste your time or not but I'd sure as hell love to have you at my back on the team, and you can't get there like this."

As usual, all kinds of sensible things being said and none of them coming from him. Not breaking eye contact with Paul, Nathan took a deep breath, telling himself to relax. Trying to take that step back. "He needs so much," he finally said, his jaw clenching as he tried to force the next words out. "And I can't... give it to him."

"You're right.  You can't.  Nate.  Sometimes, we /can't/."  That was the voice of experience speaking there, the voice that echoed up from hollow hours spent pacing psych-ward halls and filling out consent forms and rationing out pills. 

The Askani were silent, shocked almost in the back of his mind. The music from the CD changed from piano to vocals, Alison's voice singing one of the dirges, and Nathan flinched. His thoughts were racing around and around in his mind, chasing one another. Manuel's voice, telling him that the deal was off. Dramatics, he knew. Manuel had meant it when he'd claimed that he'd made a committment, that he'd stick to it...

"And I can't," Nathan murmured aloud. Not when it came to the important things.

"Not like this.  Not now."  Paul was only talking partly about Nathan and Manuel, his own experiences still resonated in his voice but he didn't sound hopeless either.  "Nate.  It's okay."

"He scared the hell out of me this morning. He really did," Nathan said, his voice very low. Absurdly, a smile, albeit once without much humor, tugged at his lips. "I tried," he said quietly. "I've been trying for months. What good it's done him has come from the Askani, not from me. I sure as hell didn't help him this morning. I do not," he concluded almost bitterly, "have the stamina. Fuck, that's galling to say."

"I understand."  Paul leaned back in bed.  Yes, he understood exactly how galling it was to have to admit to lacking stamina. "Doesn't mean you don't care, didn't try, or screwed up.  It just is."

"I'll talk to Charles." Four words to admit defeat. Didn't take much. Nathan slouched in the chair, folding his arms across his chest, almost hugging himself. "It's like triage," he said almost distractedly. "Isn't it? I can help Amanda, because what she needs, I can give. But if I keep trying to hammer away at Manuel..."

Paul nodded.  "That's actually a really good way to look at it," he said quietly.  "Good analogy."

He was slouched far enough in the chair that he could rest his head against the back of it again. Very comfortable position, really. The dirge had stopped, and the next song was... pastoral, for lack of a better word. More soothing. "Thinking outside the box," he murmured. "Why does it always seem to take a kick in the head?"

"I didn't kick you," Paul said reflexively, reverting to age seven for a moment.  "I didn't even threaten you with Hello Kitty.  I guess it takes that much to shift the paradigm.  It's not a failing."

"No, I didn't mean you'd kicked me," Nathan said quietly. "I think.... when it comes right to it, Manuel did." He looked up at Paul, the look in his eyes clear, if weary, and smiled faintly. "You just gave this reeling idiot a hand before he fell flat on his face. Or, you know, ran screaming off into the woods."

"Well, the running screaming would cut down on us working together," Paul pointed out with a vague wave of one thin hand.  "And you don't need your nose broken any more times."

"Tell me about it. Dom alone has done it twice. Once it was even accidental." Nathan sighed again, but it was a wistful sigh this time. "She wanted me to tell you goodbye, by the way."

"Oh?"  Paul looked gratified.  "Nice to know I made an impression, or my amazing reservation-making skills did.  So, is breaking your nose something of a friendship ritual, then?"

"You made a definite impression. She was alarmingly chipper after... well, whatever it was the two of you did," Nathan said, more dryly. "I don't really want to know. As for the nose-breaking..." He shrugged, smiling crookedly. "More of a Dom thing. Violence has always been her preferred way of expressing herself."

"No, you don't want to know."  Paul's expression was purely smug.  "And I've noticed that about her.  Sweet girl."

"She was fourteen years old, fighting two men three times her size, the first time I laid eyes on her," Nathan said, remembering. "I turned around to GW and told him we weren't leaving without her." The smile came back. "Never once regretted it. Broken noses or not."

Paul grinned at Nate.  "Broken nose is nothing.  God knows you make it bleed enough all by yourself."

"Not so much as a drop today," Nathan protested. "Of course, that might have had something to do with Moira threatening to make me sleep on the couch for the rest of my natural life if I did anything and she heard about it."

"Good woman," Paul said approvingly.  "Glad she knows what's good for you." 

"I'm looking forward to the day when I can count on recognizing what's good for me on my own," Nathan said and then blinked, grinning almost helplessly and laying a hand on his forehead. "I think I'm feverish. That sounded almost optimistic."

Paul laughed at him for that.  "Maybe you'd better go get Moira to check you out.  You know, while you're feeling so strangely positive and optimistic.  Don't waste it down here in the dungeon."

"But you're supposed to spread the happy feelings around," Nathan said with a straight face. "Or so I'm told. Maybe I should be like Browning's Pippa and wander the hallways singing about how the lark's on the wing and the snail's on the thorn."

Paul grabbed Hello Kitty and shook her in Nathan's direction.  "Who are you, and what have you done with Dayspring?  Don't make me use this kitty on you."

"Jack, who may be crazy himself, claims that I should run with these vaguely manic moments," Nathan said, making a threatening face at the stuffed toy. "Apparently they involve me forgetting to kick myself in the ass for whole minutes at a time and thus should be encouraged. I think he's cracked, personally."

"Ooh."  Paul hugged Hello Kitty, peeking between her ears at Nathan.  "He's spontaneous, too.  And wise.  Introduce me?"

"Hey, apparently he's planning on knocking on my door twice a week until further notice, so sure. Don't be too surprised if he shows you pictures of his grandson, though," Nathan said with a grin. "He dotes on the kid."

"I'll put up with it to get to talk to a sane person."  Paul patted Hello Kitty and put her back on the bedside table.  "I'm glad he'll be looking in on you.  That way, when I forget to, or don't bother, because I'm wallowing in hedonism, Moira will have backup."

"Mmm, just what she needs. As if I'm not sufficiently whipped already." Nathan gave Paul a thoughtful look. "So have I worn you out again yet?"

"Hush.  Whipping can be good for you," Paul said archly.  "And actually, I'm a little wound up.  I should crash any minute now, though.  If I don't, I can always press the little button and annoy Hank with demands for food that I can't have yet."

"Color me completely unsurprised that you're a little wound up," Nathan said dryly, his fingers tapping restlessly on the arm of his chair. "You know what's driving me nuts?" he said abruptly. "The silliest thing. Before Mistra, I was starting to play with my TK on a regular basis. Totally frivolous things. I made Paige a three-dimensional twin out of glitter. Stuff like that. And now I have this itch back, and I can't scratch it, because I can't use the TK." Nathan actually pouted.

"Don't talk to me about itches," Paul grumbled.  "You want glitter, go get some and a gluestick and paper from Clarice.  Moira'll let you do crafts.  I bet she knows good ones."

"I asked her that once. She suggested knitting." Nathan gave Paul what could only be described as a truly disturbing smile. "Can you see me knitting? At least the needles could double as weapons."

"Actually, some of the world's best knitters are men," Paul said thoughtfully.  "I think you'd like it.  It's very creative."

"I do need a hobby," Nathan admitted with a shrug. "Something sedate to keep my mind occupied... I was teaching Haroun Go."

Paul thought about this for a moment.  "I like Go, but I'm terrible at it.  Still, it's relaxing because I know I'm going to lose.  I can knit, though.  I learned when I was a child.  Just haven't done it in years."

"I used to play Go with my team," Nathan said after a moment. "When we were sitting around at the base, between operations and training exercises. I hadn't for years, either, before Haroun reminded me of it."

"Madame McRae taught me," Paul said, a little distantly.  "My third foster home, I think.  She was quite kind, I think she liked that I was interested.  Not that I'm any artist at it.  But I could make mittens and whatnot, to help her out.  She made all of us warm things.  Monsieur McRae was the one who taught us all to ski."

"Sounds like good memories," Nathan said quietly, seeing the faraway look in Paul's eyes.

"I have a few," Paul said, coming back to the present and smiling at Nathan.  "I just tend to keep them in a drawer with all the other ones.  Still, if you ever decide to take Moira up on the knitting, I won't laugh, even if you drop your stitches."

"You're too kind." The CD had moved on to one of the lullabies - Alison had been particularly interested in those, and Nathan smiled innocently at Paul. "Crashing yet?" he asked.

He was, he barely had the energy to muster up any annoyance at the amusement in Nathan's voice.  "Hush.  I'm not tired," he said, lying through his teeth.  "I'm not."  And then he yawned to prove it. 

"Of course you're not," Nathan murmured. "Damn, these lullabies are good."

"Bah.  You set a trap for me," Paul muttered petulantly, snuggling down under the blankets.  "I'll get you for this, Dayspring.  And your little bird, too."

"You know what Bella would say to that, don't you?" Paul didn't answer, and Nathan grinned. "Damned good," he murmured, reminding himself to tell Alison.

"Sucky baby," Paul said, mimicking Bella admirably.  Then he yawned again, drifting off before he could protest further.

Comments

[x-rahne.livejournal.com]

Food is important. If Nate doesn't want Rahne to try to feed him when he's hiding, he should stop giving her reason to think that he will stop eating on his own under stress.

*pout*

;)