xp_logs | Nathan and Charles, Thursday morning

After Alison's argument with Nathan and her email to him, Charles calls Nathan in for an early-morning session to find out what precisely is going on. (A few hours prior to this post.)

"What wound did ever heal but by degrees ?"
~ Othello, Act ii, Sc.3

He had wheeled his chair by the window a few hours earlier and had been there since, lost in his thoughts. He'd replayed the sound file enough to embed it nicely in his own mind, should the need arise - but first he had to see for himself how the mere possibility of what Alison had suggested might affect Nathan's frame of mind.

Not a post hypnotic trigger, he thought, but rather a dormant psychic alteration - different pathways hidden in the damaged part of Nathan's mind, which when triggered by very specific instances came to life but otherwise were designed to camouflage themselves within the psychic 'scar' tissue in his brain. Perhaps.

Nathan was on his way to the library to look something up for an international relations lecture - he was tired and couldn't bring the specifics of that particular theory back to mind as easily as he should have been able to - when he felt a light brush against his mind, the telepathic equivalent of a knock. The 'knock' bore with it an implicit request, and he stopped in the middle of the hallway, blinking, then turned around and headed for Charles' office.

While waiting for Nathan to arrive at the office, Charles considered how to broach the matter. From what Alison had shown him there was a definite negative reaction to even the mere suggestion that such a thing might be on Nathan's part, which was more than natural of course. Denial faced with the possibility he might still not be entirely his own man, in possession of the entirety of his mind and soul. Underlying triggers inset to protect the programming? Or a decay in the process? Wondering, however, would serve no purpose - Nathan would be there soon.

Nathan paused at the office door, frowning fitfully, then 'announced' himself telepathically and came in at the quiet greeting Charles sent him in return. The older man's expression was grave, if calm, and Nathan felt himself tensing instinctively. "Good morning, Charles," he said, unable to keep the note of wariness out of his voice.

Ah, Nathan... Charles smiled gently, the gravity never quite leaving however, and gestured for the chair opposite him, wreathed in sunlight. "Good morning. It was good of you to join me so quickly." He extended a light undertone of steadiness, not quite radiating the feeling as an awkward empath might, but keeping to something more akin to adding a sense of comfort to the room. Safety and tranquility.

Nathan felt it - he couldn't not, but part of him resisted it as well, even as he went over and sat down in the chair indicated. The discussion with Alison was far too fresh - it had only been a few hours ago, after all - and he was uncomfortably certain that he knew what this summons was about. "The research can wait," he said a bit restlessly. "That lecture's not until next week."

Sometimes with Nathan, the best route was the quickest one. "No, it isn't. I am afraid I must impose upon you once more, Nathan." Charles took a sip of tea, shaking his head with a somewhat rueful expression. #Would you object terribly to my ensuring my office might not suffer from any untoward events while we talk about this?# The offer that followed, a telepathic unfolding of shields and walls, was similar to what had happened when he had shown Nathan how to install the psychic breaker.

Nathan froze, his hands clenching instinctively on the arms of the chair. Charles just gazed steadily at him, and Nathan swallowed, ignoring the unsettled murmur of the Askani in the back of his mind. "I suppose that's probably a good idea," he said aloud, fighting to keep the words level. "Contrary to what Cain seems to believe, I don't actually enjoy doing property damage to the house."

The unfolding of shields continued, almost going to the barest of structures before rebuilding itself slowly around Nathan's mind as well. Solidity. Strength. An unshakable sense of being. Safety. The patterns layered themselves steadily around him, radiating gently at him without being intrusive - simply there for Nathan to accept or not, as he chose. Aware of the Askani but deciding not to reach out unless they decided to manifest first, Charles kept his focus primarily on Nathan.

#There is something that needs to be settled.# Charles voice implied a knowing - that Nathan knew what this was as well as he did, but without condemnation or worry. Merely stating fact and nothing more. #With your permission Nathan, I would like to set a wall between you and, well, everything else for now.# A construct image flickered in the mindscape, showing Nathan the patterns and weaves involved in this.

All so reasonably put. So carefully phrased and presented, just like always, to encourage trust, discourage fear. But this time, it felt like he was being cornered, as if Charles was relying on the fact that he would react like he always did. But this wasn't one of their telepathy lessons, and Nathan shook his head, not denying Charles' request as much as the idea behind it. Alison was wrong, he thought, clinging to that like a lifeline. She was wrong and this wasn't necessary...

#There is a simple way to resolve the matter, Nathan.# Charles remembered only too well how much Alison herself had hoped to be proven wrong when they'd 'spoken' earlier. He thought of the underlying patterns of sheer misery and self-loathing he'd gently teased into quiescence before leaving her mind, with her permission. While Nathan thought things over Charles watched - with all of his senses. Looking for the subtle undercurrents that might not be entirely Nathan but something else trying to protect itself.

#What, by trying to trigger it to see if it is a trigger?# Nathan shot back, feeling almost sick to his stomach at the sudden wash of fear. #It's all gone, you know that. You saw the Trojan Horse at work, you know that--#

The fear was noted, Charles gently observing the pattern to see what was genuine and what might not be within it - just in case. #The Trojan Horse, yes. But we have still been going over your mind bit by bit ever since, Nathan. Slowly, so as to not traumatize your healing process. The Trojan Horse itself was a very specific construct. Triggers can sometimes be laid that rest dormant - and unseen unless they are in full flare. Spotting one of those would require a deep scan of your mind on levels which would be possibly damaging to you in your current condition.#

#Why would they create a conditioning-bomb that left anything behind?# Nathan demanded and then stiffened in his chair as half a dozen different answers to that question presented themselves to him, gently but quite firmly. #No,# he sent back in response to the images and scenarios Charles was projecting at him. The defiance he'd felt initially at the idea was beginning to fade into something piteous, there for the sake of being there. The fear came back, stronger, and it took everything he had to stay in the chair. #No, this was supposed to be over.#

#This fear isn't entirely yours, Nathan.# Charles was tracking down the tendrils, from a distance - mapping out what he could see, setting aside his feelings at what he was seeing. #Things have... regressed, this week.# A mental map of Nathan's frame of mind from the previous week flickered to life, the breaks visible but nothing such as they were now. #You should not be affected so badly by this. I wasn't certain Alison wasn't perhaps seeing more to things than there were as well, I admit. But now I wonder.#

#No!# And this time he did get out of the chair, so quickly that it almost toppled over backwards. #I don't know what you think you're seeing, Charles, but there's nothing there!# Already he was backing instinctively towards the door, pushing frantically at the shields around his mind.

Charles let the shields go with a speed and neatness which might have stunned Nathan hadn't he been so intent on backing away instead. Sadness etched his features. "I will not force you to do this, Nathan." He did not enjoy this. Not at all. With a clear gaze he waited a moment, before continuing. "But do you truly wish to take the risk that there might just be something there after all? Here, of all places?"

Nathan froze. "I--I don't--" Damn it. He took a deep, shaky breath, fighting the seething panic and anger as his conscience kicked in, rather insistently at that. Not here. Not at the school, around all the kids... Shaking, each step a battle, he came back over to the chair and sat down. "I can't, can I." It wasn't a question, and a rattled, ghastly-sounding laugh slipped out as his hands clenched again on the arms of his chair. "I can't." Won't. But he was so terrified at the thought, felt so sick just at the idea... he didn't know why Moira wasn't reacting on the link. Maybe Charles was shielding her. Probably a good thing.

Charles looked at him for a while, then out the window - a deliberate motion, really. "Normally, I would ask you to stand within as well and watch. To see and learn, as we've been doing up until now." The fear was tangible though, permeating the room. "If. If there is anything - would you rather be unaware while I remove the triggers? Only if, Nathan."

"I think this is one of those times where I do give in to cowardice," Nathan rasped, trying to slow down his breathing. The Askani were murmuring to him, trying to be soothing. It wasn't really working. "If--if there is, I want to know what it is. But I don't think I can--" The spike of pure terror was almost overwhelming, and he suspected that he would have fled the room right there and then if Charles' comment about the possible risk to the kids hadn't been like lead weights keeping him in the chair.

It was done so swiftly and subtly Nathan never felt a thing - but suddenly they shield were back and both he and Charles were within once more. The terror was now separate, a crawling and living thing trying to reach back for him with all its might. #That walk back to the chair must have been the longest you have faced in a while.# The remark was calm, but tinged with quiet certainty - and gratitude. #Thank you.#

#The kids,# Nathan sent back faintly, all the explanation he really needed to give. The distance between himself and the fear was welcome, but felt... really strange. #What--what do we do now?# We, he told himself as forcefully as he could. This was Charles, and their sessions were always 'we'.

#I will activate the trigger. If there is nothing - then we will still need to address how strongly this affects you, I think.# Charles did not mention how the fear kept trying to insistently get back to Nathan, even as he held it back - it felt sentient to him, in a way. Not a part of the patterns he had to come to know very well within Nathan's mind. #And if there is something, you will sleep, Nathan. And when you wake, we will discuss what I found if you so wish, or wait a while before doing so. And you will know everything you wish to know, in your own good time.# It would be soon, Charles knew - Nathan was never one to wait over such things.

#All right.# Nathan swallowed, that odd sense of detachment not quite enough to keep him unaware of the inky shadows trying to grab at him again. #I--I trust you, Charles. I do. I just--# Wanted this to be over.

There was a further sense of buffering, the shields around Nathan's conscious awareness doubling and then tripling, the depth of the layering soon beyond counting. And then a single word resonated through his mindscape, falling through the fear still trying to get to Nathan and beneath its surface, as though drawn to it.

Something lashed out, lightning quick - a flare of sickly green lacing through the patterns surrounding them, uncoiling from somewhere deep in his mind, only to be stopped dead in its tracks. The fear roiled in response, tinges of the same color gleaming through briefly, the one feeding the other.

The fear didn't reach him, but a sudden sense of desolation crashed down on him. No... please no, please... It was a cracked adolescent voice that made the plea, and Nathan lost his hold on the mindscape completely as he was buffeted by a flood of memories. White walls, blank faces, soundless screams...

#Sleep.#