Backdated. Sunday Night: Betsy and Nathan. And later on: Betsy and Alison.

[x-psylocke.livejournal.com]

Players: Betsy and Nathan
Time: Sunday night.
Subject: Betsy in Nathanland.

No sleep, no meditation, leads to a trip down the Astral Plane.



Though the 'wearing himself out' strategy had been successful, that didn't change the fact that he hadn't slept in four days and his thinking wasn't as clear as it should be. Nathan would remember, in the morning, that he hadn't done the dreamnapping-avoiding meditative exercise Charles had shown him before he'd fallen asleep.

But right now, exhaustion had gotten the better of him and as he sank towards an all-too-familiar landscape of desert and mesas, he struggled against it desperately, reaching out for help. But the link was gone, they'd broken it, and he couldn't find Moira, couldn't find her...

Still lying in bed, Betsy had rolled over and turned to find Scott asleep. She brought her hand to his face, lovingly brushing a strand of hair back into place, she smiled, feeling satisfied. She laid her head on his chest and played back recent events in her mind.

But now, she felt the weight of all they had done. Betsy's lavendar eyes closed, finding sleep easily enough. She found herself back home in England with her brothers. They were sitting in front of the fire and from the frosting on the windows; it was winter. Her favorite time of year, Betsy closed her eyes, revelling in the warmth of the hearth.

Her mind registered the shimmer from the other side of the room. Betsy's eyes darted to the corner, her mind grasping on what was happening. Suddenly, the shimmer moved quickly through her landscape and Betsy felt her mind being pulled elsewhere. Someone was reaching out to her. She forcibly tried pushing away from it, but the sudden force of it, caught her unawares. Betsy was soon somewhere entirely different from her home in Malden.

Nathan hit the ground running, nothing in his mind but panic, desperation to get away, to lose himself into the night where they couldn't find him, couldn't touch him. "Not again," he muttered raggedly as he ran. "Won't go back... not again..."

And then he felt it. A presence, shadowy just like they had been when they'd chased him across the desert and broken the link, taken Moira away. Nathan whirled. "Go AWAY!" he snarled, lashing out with his telekinesis and exploding the rocks around him wildly, frantic to drive the shadows back whatever it took.

Betsy appeared within the desert setting feeling unsure of how she'd gotten here. She tried to pinpoint where she was, who was out there. But, she couldn't. The shadow was evading her probes. Damn!" Betsy cursed out into the void.

But, as quickly as her mind worked itself around finding a way out, the ground began to explode around her. Betsy fell back onto the desert floor, her head tucked under her arms. She heard a voice, a mind, screaming out in protest to her presence. And even though, she was sure it was responsible for bringing her here against her will. She could not fight back, until she was sure where she had been taken. The ground continued to rumble and Betsy created a force static bubble around herself. She pushed off the ground and walked forward. This time she was ready for whatever was out there.

Not working. It wasn't working, and Nathan backed away, seeing a shape walking towards him out of the dust. "No... no, go away, leave me alone!" He tried to focus, to make his perceptions slide downwards to where he could see how to tear the very air around them apart, if that was what it took. But his heart was hammering in his chest, adrenalin and fear coursing through him, and he couldn't concentrate. "Please get out," he pleaded, taking another step backwards. "Please, don't make me go back..."

Her hand came out and touched Nathan on the shoulder. "Nathan?" Her voice sounded small and shaken at seeing him in this state. She withdrew her force bubble and turned him around to face her. "Nate," she said, apologetically. "No one is here to take you, anywhere. Look at me," she said, coaxingly. "It's Betsy, remember?"

Nathan looked up at her - and went white, stumbling back. "No," he choked out. "No, you're not supposed to be here..." She looked as if she was about to say something, reaching out towards him again, and he turned and bolted.

He'd ripped out of her hands and skirted away. It was as if he'd taken all the heat from her bones with him and Betsy couldn't help but shiver. "Right," she said, resignedly.

Knowing where she was, she could probably manage her way out of here. But her conscience fought against her need to leave. No, she wouldn't leave Nathan this way. Betsy crouched down on the desert floor, her hand grasping onto a handful of sand. She held it high and when she felt the wind pick up, Betsy opened her palm. She watched as each shiny grain pushed away from her and created the trail in Nathan's wake. They were like stars, shining brightly and Betsy focused her mind, mapping them out. After all, this was Nathan's dreamscape and it was all connected. She would let it guide her to him. Betsy recreated her static bubble, afraid of what may lay out there. And so, she cut through the landscape, hoping the breadcrumbs would lead her to him.

She was following. He could sense it, sense her chasing him. Desperately, he wrenched at the world around him, trying to push it to change. Cover. He needed cover...

...no. No, not the woods. They took shape around him, the snow deep and heavy, and Nathan stumbled, falling to his hands and knees with a gasp as the freezing air seared his lungs.

"Nathan! Where are you, boy?" he heard his father roar from somewhere off to the left, deeper into the woods. "You'd better not be hiding from me, you little bastard!"

"Nathan?" It was Kritzer's voice, coming from the other direction, sounding impatient. "Come along, Nathan. It's time to set them free and say goodbye. It's only fair..."

Betsy had hovered over the snow, at first. She was still dressed in her bed clothes and without the bubble her body would react to the sudden cold. But after hearing the voices and feeling the terror Nathan so strongly projected. She felt the heaviness of her boots connect with the ground. She was wearing a black parka and suit. The bubble dissipated and she was still limber enough to manuever. And Betsy headed for Nathan in a sprint.

Nathan struggled up out of the snow, still gasping for breath, but fell again after barely a step. "No," he whispered raggedly, sensing them advance on him, still calling to him. "No." And he lashed out with his power again, finding the focus this time, feeling change roll over his surroundings in a wave, turning it all to shimmering glass.

Only a few feet away from Nathan, Betsy rolled quickly on the ground. On instinct, her shield was back up, protecting her from the onslaught of glass. Betsy realized, it was the same all over again. Just an instinct too late, but this time she refused to let it go. This time there wasn't a building on top of her to keep her away. She rose slowly and testing her mental borders, Betsy moved toward Nathan. She found his form on the ground, Betsy placed her hands on his head and tugged, hard.

It was as if someone had slapped him, and Nathan was wrenching away and back on his feet in an instant, despite the way his head was spinning. The glass ground crackled and broke beneath his feet, and he looked down at his hands, blinking rapidly at the blood from dozens of tiny cuts. Or was it just blood on his hands, from all the people he'd killed...

"Really, Nathan," Kritzer said coldly, striding out from between the glass trees. The telempath was glass herself, a shimmering glass woman moving towards him briskly. "Where's your sense of the appropriate? You took their lives, and now we use yours to free others. How is that not fair?"

Betsy stopped in her tracks, Nathan had pulled back with impressive strength. She had somehow triggered the conversation unfolding before. Betsy stood there between Nathan and this Kritzer woman. She recognized the woman from the team file, but when she tested the image before her with a mental shove. Kitzer's image shimmered along with the landscape. Definitely, an illusion. Nathan was reliving experiences foreign to her and Betsy felt her shoulders slump forward. She had to bring him out of this and fast. Betsy tried to close the distance between Nathan and herself, keeping her stance nonconfrontational.

Kritzer was standing there, looking at him, but there was someone else, moving towards him. One of her people, come to hold him down so that she could implant a deathtrap in his mind... Nathan took another wavering step back, pulling in power until the air around him blazed golden with.

"Stay back," he snarled feverishly. "I won't let you... get AWAY!"

That's it! Betsy had had enough. She marched over to Nathan, her mind cutting through his walls in mere seconds. Of course, she felt her control slip as she let her anger get the best of her. But, she was at her wits end. She could not do nothing and allow him to continue with this nonsense. Betsy felt her hand tingle with energy. And for a moment, purple sparks seemed to fly off of her form. Only moments later, there were no signs of them.

Yes, Betsy would leave calm and reserved for someone else today. "Nathaniel Dayspring, so help me!" Betsy bellowed. "If you don't get up and stop this nonsense right now, I'll be force to do something drastic!"

Nathan's eyes widened, and the golden light flared around him, shattering the glass mindscape, leaving them floating in a void of blank gray light. "Try it," he hissed at her. "Just try it. I'm not going anywhere with you!"

She felt the thrumming in her hand flair and Betsy closed her fingers into a fist to stave off the sensation. Her body, mind, and heart ached to release the energy she felt building within her. It sounded as if metal were grinding together and making music. And yet, she managed to hold onto her control with everything she had. "No," she whispered. Betsy sat down on the floor and felt the pain in her head subside. "I won't fall into this trap."

Floor... floor? The light dying around him, Nathan scrambled back, falling against the wall in the corner of the cell. His hands fluttered desperately, as if trying to push away the cold, hard reality of his surroundings. "Not again," he moaned, all of the anger melting into pain and fear. "No, not again..."

Feeling herself breaking, Betsy placed her head in her hands. She rocked herself as she felt Nathan's mind take another bleak twist. "I can't keep going like this." Betsy huffed. "I can't."

"Then perhaps," a deep, rich woman's voice said from behind her, "you should ask for help?" Askani's bright green eyes flickered to Nathan, huddled in the corner, then back to Betsy. "He hasn't slept in days. I knew this would be coming when he did."

Betsy felt herself shudder at the new presence, her mind calming down slightly at this familiar intrusion. The Askani. She carefully looked up at the tall woman standing before her. Her voice refused to work around the words, so Betsy turned away from the both of them, willing them away.

"Calmly, sister. I don't mean you any harm." Askani waved a hand and the cold, empty cell disappeared, replaced by a beach under a dazzling starscape. Nathan leapt back to his feet, backing away, and she sighed, approaching him. "Enough," she said firmly, raising a hand. "Days without sleep or no, you have no excuse for becoming lost in the dream, little brother."

No harm. Hundreds of minds trapped within one body, all assuming control at a drop of a dime. No, the Askani didn't have to mean any harm to not commit it. Betsy raised her head slightly, taking in the change of scenery, and watching Nathan, cautiously. She felt a flicker of change in Nathan's demeanor, he'd registered Mother Askani's words. Betsy sighed inwardly, letting the tension flow out of her body.

The panic and anger faded, and Nathan blinked at Askani for a long moment before he registered Betsy crouched on the sand. "Betsy? Oh, shit..." He took a deep, unsteady breath and then went over and knelt a few steps away from her. "I'm sorry," he said raggedly. "I didn't mean to do this. To bring you here. I thought I'd stopped doing this."

"Of course, you did." Betsy said, her face turned away from him. She rested her head on her knees, her arms wrapped protectively around them.

Nathan looked up at Askani, then back down at Betsy. "I don't know what else to say," he said, defeated. Lucid dreaming or not, he was still shaken by the images, wrestling for control. Kritzer, made out of glass. "Can you... are you able to leave? Is there anything I need to do to help?"

"I could've left at any time, Nathan." Betsy looked up, her eyes locking with his. She afforded a glance to Mother Askani, before turning back to him. "But, I could not leave you like that."

Nathan sighed, pressing his hands against his forehead for a moment, as if the pressure would somehow help to calm his thoughts. The beach jumped and flickered around them, and Askani shook her head and turned away, striding down the sand.

"I just... it just caught up with me, I suppose," he said heavily. "I should have figured it would. Maybe that's why I couldn't sleep." He took a deep breath, made himself look up at her. He ought to be terrified that she was here, panicking still at her very presence, but maybe his exhaustion was reaching him even on his dreamscape, because he just didn't have the energy. "But you should go," he went on, more quietly, then looked up at the stars. "I know you're afraid of them."

"No, I wouldn't say I was afraid of them," Betsy said looking up at the brightly-lit sky. She felt her mood lighten, feeling Nathan's eyes on her. "Actually, I'd describe the emotion I was feeling as complete and utter terror." Betsy choked out, giving Nathan a weak smile. "And I know I'm not making this any easier, but you're still not alright and quite some time ago I made a promise. Besides, you reached out for me. I, on the other hand, was having a rather pleasant dream before being interrupted."

"I'm--" How many times could he say sorry before he realized how futile it was? "I'll--be fine, Betsy," he said, mustering a faint smile of his own. "Now that I'm... aware. She'll help me wake up. You don't need to stay."

~I didn't mean it that way.~ Betsy sent, quietly. She brought her hand to his shoulder, giving him a small squeeze. "I shouldn't have tried to make light of a horribly uncomfortable situation. I'm sorry. I will go, if that's what you want, Nathan."

"It's too hard on you to be here," Nathan said quietly. "With them. You need to go." He reached up, laid his hand over hers where it rested on his shoulder. "You didn't want to leave me," he said more hoarsely. "That means a lot. But you have your own demons to deal with."

"Alright." Betsy felt a shudder of relief sweep over her. No matter how hard she tried, Betsy couldn't deny the truth. She gave Nathan a hopeful smile before looking back on the ocean. "I'll see you." Betsy said, sadly before slowly pulling herself out of his mind. And within the dreamscape to Nathan, Betsy simply faded away.



Players: Alison and Betsy
Time: Even later Sunday night
Subject: After her encounter with Nathan, Betsy runs to her room for alittle “relief.” This time, she’s caught in the act.



A few moments later:

Betsy felt unnerved at the moment, she'd awaken from her episode with Nathan within moments and hadn't been able to fall back asleep. Betsy made her way back to her quarters, making a note to reassure Scott of where she was when he woke up in the morning. Betsy entered her quarters with a purpose, she headed to the cupboards and after digging inside for a moment, she pulled out a bottle of gin. Taking off the cap, Betsy took a swig, and wiped her mouth and slammed the bottle on the table. She leaned heavily on the counter in front of her, trying to let the alcohol work its' way through her system.

The sensation had been familiar, if fleeting. A need for escape, for oblivion niggling at the back of her mind, one she'd learned a while ago wasn't her own, as familiar as she was with the concept. With a tired sigh Alison resigned herself to this finally happening and left her room, heading towards Betsy's, still keeping an attentive mental ear out for the link at the back of her mind, even though it seemed to have gone quiet again.

She had gotten used to listening to it, trying to decipher what each stray sensation or feeling meant, as dimmed and fleeting as they were. By the time she had reached Betsy's door, her resolve was as firm as it was going to get, or so she hoped, and she leaned on the doorframe, nudging the still half-open door further open with the tip of her foot, not too surprised with the sight that greeted her.

Wiping her face, trying to remove any trace amounts of sleep. Betsy rolled her shoulders, trying to let the tightness in them to dissipate. No, it wasn't working. She reached for the small bottle and brought it to her lips. Feeling the alcohol burn a track down her throat, helped replace the ache in her chest. Betsy crouched down on the kitchenette floor and shook. Feeling the familiar sensations, Betsy felt Alison watching her, but she continued to keep her head buried. Maybe she would go away....in time.

That pierced through and Alison sighed, before trying to talk herself into not doing just that. She'd gone away too many times before, if not as literally as now - there was no turning back really, no matter how this turned out.

The sight of Betsy like this sent shivers down her spine, along with a familiar feeling of guilt - guilt for pretending that it would eventually work out, guilt for not doing anything earlier. Guilt for letting this go on so long, worsening as time went by.

"You can't keep doing this, Betsy."

At first, she didn't say anything. She only tried to enjoy the oncoming waves and the slight buzzing in her head. But, the little rumblings down the link were enough to ruin her mood. Betsy looked up at her friend, tear tracks running down her face. "Keep doing what, Alison?"

"Destroying yourself like this," Alison whispered, trying not to cry herself at the sight before her. "It's been almost every single night for a while now, hasn't it?" She moved slowly but surely towards Betsy, stopping a few feet away from her and crouched down to look at her. "Look through my eyes, like you used when I first got here. Tell me what you see."

"I'm not doing anything of the sort," Betsy scoffed. She thought she felt a slight rumble from Scott in his sleep. So, Betsy carefully blocked her thoughts from him. She stared up at Alison, wondering if she should do the same. It was out of habit and comfort that she kept their connection present. Wiping away the tears, Betsy leaned her head back onto the cabinet and sighed.

"Don't worry yourself. I've had a rough night, is all." She kept her dark purple orbs on her bubbly comrade, searching them and not liking what she saw. "If you must know, I just spent most of my evening fighting off the ramblings of a delusional man. I'm tired." No, she wouldn't acknowledge the drinking or the fact that she felt herself on shaky ground at the moment.

"It that how you're justifying the drinking, each time?" Alison was anything but her normal ebullient self, instead grave and somber. "Just a sip, it'll help me relax. A bit more won't hurt, who will know. Or did you pass that and are at the stage where your first reflex is just to head for the nearest bottle of alcohol and not even wonder why?"

"What is this?!?" Betsy said, throwing her hand up in frustration. "First it's Scott's blasted post, then Lorna takes it upon herself to call me a fuck-up, and more so Maddie sends an email, deciding to check up on me, and now you." Though, she couldn't deny that her hand twitched slightly for the bottle now at her side. And the fact that Alison had called her on it. Well, it made her even more irritable. "Right now, I can do without the overt concern, Alison."

"Sure you can. It involves hearing things you don't want to hear, doesn't it?" Alison shook her head - thankfully her tone had been even as opposed to mocking. "When will you be able to do wiht the concern, then? Because you haven't been open to it for a hell of a long time now and things aren't getting better. They've been getting steadily worse, really." A deep breath, and she just said it. "You're not controlling this. It's controlling you."

"Maybe not when I'm drinking, would be the best place to start?" Betsy said, jokingly. The thrumming in her head had gotten louder and she felt loads better. "I think you Yanks forget that with the English, drinking is a state of mind." Noticing Alison's glare, Betsy continued. "I'm alright, ok. No need to get yourself worked over it."

"S'hard to keep it to when you're not drinking, Betsy, considering you're doing a fair amount of that each day now." Alison's voice sounded flat and she knew it. "And if we're doing to go with stereotypes, it's the Irish you want for this one."

"No, the Irish got it from our lot." Betsy added, smugly. "And you haven't frequented many places in England, if you haven't visited a dodgy pub, Ali. But, that's not the point, is it? Am I hurting anyone in enjoying a little nightcap tonight? No. I'm here, in my quarters, doing my business alone. What does it matter if I do anything in excess, if I'm not harming anyone?"

"Right. So it doesn't matter that I hate watching you do this to yourself. Fine. Try this, then. You drink nearly every night, sometimes so much that you black out. What happens if there's a mission call in the middle of the night?" If that was the only argument that might work, Alison figured she might as well use it. Not that it would, she expected. "Drunk telepath on a mission. That should be a sight. Until someone gets killed."

"I won't," Betsy's started. She couldn't understand what Alison's problem was. Thinking about it for a moment, Betsy's gaze turned cold. "I wouldn't let that happen, ever."

"You can't even control your craving for alcohol," Alison pointed out evenly. She didn't move but her eyes very clearly moved lower, to the bottle Betsy was still holding in her hand. "What makes you think you can keep that from happening?"

"And why do you think that is, Alison?" Betsy spat out. "Do you even know what it's been like..." Clenching her jaw, she fought for composure. This wasn't the time, she felt like screaming. Leave me alone, please. Nathan had just played field hockey with her mind and her head ached. And now was the time, Alison wanted to confront her. Betsy felt herself shaking. "Please. I can't talk about this right now...."

Alison sighed and looked down, shoulders slumping in defeat. She wasn't strong enough to push it, all things told. She stared down for a while, wishing she could be. Wishing she could say the right thing or do the right thing, until the fact that there was perhaps, nothing more or right to do left occurred to her. Uncertain she really had done all there was to do, she just looked up at Betsy, waiting. Worrying. Wishing there was something for her to say that would make the difference.

"You don't have to do anything," Betsy adds, sadly, listening in on her friend's thoughts. "I won't stay broken, forever."

Idiot. Even Betsy couldn't have told who the thought was aimed at, truth be told. Hesitantly, Alison crept forward, not sure what was welcome or not anymore, and placed one hand lightly on Betsy's shoulder. She wasn't letting go of this, but clearly pushing anymore wouldn't get her anywhere tonight. But maybe, this once, the drinking could stop for the evening. Maybe.

Feeling lightheaded, Betsy let her eyes close for a moment. But just as quickly, she felt Alison's grip rock her out of her stupor. Betsy smiled sheepishly at her friend, like a child caught with her hands in the cookie jar. "Ali," she said, wistfully. "You're such a good mate, you know. Always there to put a girl back on her feet." Her words slightly slurring. Ah, the liquor had finally hit its' mark. Betsy felt her head fall back on the counter with a small thud, but she hadn't registered it, at all.

Keeping her expression as neutral as possible and damping down on any reaction as best she could, Alison just closed the distance left over, sliding one arm around Betsy's waist, after discreetly nudging the bottle out of range. "C'mon," she murmured, gently helping Betsy to her feet as best she could. "You need to be in bed."

"Up we go!" Betsy exclaimed, as Alison stood her up. "Yes, bed! I can sleep now, you know. Nathan's asleep, so he won't try to kill me, again." Betsy moved closer to her friend, whispering into her ear. "You know, the Askani made him go to sleep."

Mmm. Good for them. She braced herself as she tried to guide Betsy to her bed as safely as possible, wondering at what she had meant with the Nathan comment but not really inclined to pursue it just now. She could always ask Nathan later, if need be. "And now it's your turn to sleep, there we go..."

"I wish I didn't have to sleep," Betsy said lamely, falling back onto the bed with a sigh. "Bad things always happen when your eyes are closed."

"You'll be out like a light before you know it," Alison murmured, noting that Betsy's breathing was already evening out while Alison was removing her shoes. "I'll be here for a little while. Sleep now."

~Such a good mate.~ The thought trickled down the link and to Alison right as Betsy passed out. Her light breathing the only indicator that she was unconscious. After a moment, she shifted toward Alison, sighing happily before falling back to a dream interrupted.