xp_logs | Nathan and Alison, Wednesday morning / Nathan and Miles, Wednesday afternoon

Nathan visits Alison's mindscape to reassure her on several subjects and to take back messages he hopes he never has to pass along.

The light had dimmed, just a bit, since Charles had last been in her mind - she was aware of that fact now, just as she knew where she was and understood what was going on. When she was there at least. She slipped in and out, she knew, although so far the moments of rationality were clear and she tended to remember them from one to the other most of the time. Madelyn had walked inside (for the first time, she thought, although she wasn't sure of that) to take some blood samples. But sometimes everything got lost again and she wasn't sure if she was holding on to the mental imagery of the light because it was real and fact, or because it felt safer than whatever was really going on with her. She was used to it by now though, the way light was everywhere, mapping her mind as well as marking her waking hours.

Nathan moved cautiously through the featureless waves of light, glad now that Charles had made him practice so much with his astral form. It was really the only feasible shape to wear, here. #Alison?# he called gently, spotting a form floating there amid the light. He dove slowly towards it.

Someone was there - not Charles, but someone else. Her thoughts coalesced into something more specific in response, the form taking more solidity and definition as Nathan neared closer. #I know you.# The thought was followed by a vague impression of wryness. #I think I've been saying that a lot, lately.# Things wavered for a moment, as she remembered the piano room and the garden. It had been nice to feel safe. #How's Miles?#

#Hanging in there.# He slowed as he got closer, not knowing if he should risk contact on a mindscape like this. Charles had advised caution, after all. #He's been going from Cain and Mao to me and Bella, with a few stops along the way with Jamie and Doug and Artie...#

Relief was felt at that, tangible and near overwhelming, even though she hadn't quite understood the entire sentence - the gist of things is what had mattered. Light bled from her as she wavered for a moment, before steadying once more. It was hard to feel lonely when all you remembered was the odd moment where someone was there. #Haroun? How...#

She wasn't quite comprehending him, he could sense it. Instead of answering with words, he tried tentatively to project images instead. Haroun's weary face, his determination to be there at her side, then a flash of him finally succumbing to sleep followed by a flash of himself, watching. Hoping she'd take it to mean that he was keeping an eye on Haroun as well.

Safe. Miles was safe, that much was still very much threading through her thoughts, the notion that Haroun was all right too mingling in slowly as well. It gave her enough to remain steady it seemed, the next question more articulate than she'd been moments before. #The children. Sean.# The words were accompanied with the sensation that if something Bad had happened, she'd have know - that someone would have told her. Or so she hoped.

#Safe.# More images, wound in with the words. Kyle, Terry, Sean. #Well. Everyone's safe.# He sent her an image of the school, peaceful in the autumn sunlight. #Nothing else has happened.#

She wanted to ask him what had happened only she wasn't sure how or what about, her own memories still blurred and lost in the radiance surrounding her at all times. It was a state of now more than anything else, or several instances of now. There was only one question left though, with the reassurance he'd provided her. One thing to wonder about. She didn't ask though, shying away from that in favor of something else. A wordless request for a favor, something important he could do for her.

Nathan nearly lost his already-tenuous link to her mind right then and there, and only an extreme act of will kept him from letting any of the sudden wave of anguish down that connection where she could feel it. She had more than enough pain of her own to deal with right now. #Yes,# he sent, echoing the agreement wordlessly. #Yes, I'll tell them. I know.# He let the faces, the memories, all the things she wanted him to tell the people she loved if she didn't make it through this wash over him, every detail burning itself into his mind.

It was a sustained effort and one that cost, Alison dearly as she her shape wavered once more, nearly dissipating entirely before slowly forming once again although she was far less defined this time. #Thank you.# Words and not concepts or emotions, barely heard against the sudden drowning roar of the landscape shifting around them.

Nathan winced inwardly, trying to send out some last wordless expression of comfort and caring as he retreated as gently as he could from her mindscape. Charles had warned him not to stay, if this happened.

He opened his eyes outside the isolation room, only to find them blurring with tears.

Miles decides to show Nathan what he and Jamie have been working on. Nathan is astonished. Then he does something for Miles that serves as one more piece of evidence that telepathy can be a blessing as often as a curse.

He had been released from the medlab a few days ago and with Jamie's help had been pretty much practicing non-stop. He'd thought he'd felt it, before Toad snapped the collar on him, but Miles hadn't been sure until now. And they'd followed the training schedule Mama had worked out. Ok, a bit faster than it had been meant to and Miles was tired. But at least now he could be more useful if something ever happened again. And that was good, even if he felt tired and worried and very, very small.

Nathan paused in the doorway of the music room, his heart doing its very best to break in his chest at the sight of the small boy sitting despondently among the instruments and music. Looking as if he'd sought out someplace where he thought he might be able to feel his mother's presence, only to find that it wasn't enough.

"Hey, Miles," he said softly.

Looking up, Miles sighed a bit, not really able to smile though he did wave a bit at Nathan in greeting. He'd checked on Nathan earlier that morning, and Moira too. There were other people to make sure of today, but they had been the top of the list for this particular day, although it was still nice to see Nathan. Especially since he wouldn't be dangerous to him anymore. "Miles has something to tell Nathan..." He nodded to himself, then looking up again.

Nathan came over and sat down in the chair next to Miles'. "Well, I'm here," he said. "Like to think I'm good at listening, too. What's up?"

It was surprisingly easy to control now that he'd figured it out. Just a mental switch, like Mama had been teaching him to visualize. "Miles thinks it is best to show." He got to his feet and then simply close the brief distance, what normally would have been his 'safe range' and leaned against the chair and Nathan. "There."

No change. Nathan blinked. He could still hear and feel the thoughts of the mansion's inhabitants washing against his shields, could still hear the Askani murmuring in the back of his mind. His eyes flickered over to the desk - Alison's desk - and he tried, experimentally, to lift a book. It floated up off the desk easily, and he turned back to Miles, wonderment written all over his face.

"How did you--" No. First things first. Nathan leaned over and gently enfolded the little boy in a hug. "I told your mother I was waiting to do this," he said, a bit of a catch in his voice.

Miles clung back, dangerously close to crying for a moment. "Miles wanted to do something. To surprise Mama for when she got better." Because she would be getting better, everyone kept saying so and things seemed to be getting better when he'd peeking in the medlab. He paused and then frowned, worry and a touch of fear evident in his expression. "Miles was also afraid of what it might to do Mama if he shut down her power later. Doctor Madelyn said Mama needed sound to live."

Nathan wasn't far away from getting more than a little weepy-eyed himself. He very carefully lifted Miles into his lap, not surprised when the little boy didn't protest, but just clung harder. "She's going to be so proud of you," he said softly. "So proud."

Holding on, Miles just nodded a bit, trying not to cry again just this once - it wasn't as hard as he'd thought it would be. He was mostly tired at this point, all the work he'd put into getting control over his power making everything else other than the ache to see Alison alive and all right numb somehow. "Miles knows." If it was one thing he had learned, it was that Alison was dependable that way. That he'd been afraid it would only be good to do so sometimes in case Nathan and Moira were the ones to take care of him if anything bad happened to keep Alison in the medlab longer wasn't something he really felt like saying out loud.

It felt so weirdly familiar, sitting here like this, Nathan thought, his eyes stinging again. Miles wasn't Tyler, he knew that, but the way the little boy was curled up against him, the trust implicit in his stillness... #Miles?# he asked suddenly, barely a whisper. #Can you hear me in your head?#

The effect was familiar - like when the Professor spoke to him that way, which Miles remembered only too well since the last time had been Saturday evening at one point. Or maybe it had been early Sunday morning - Miles wasn't sure, still. "Miles can hear Nathan, but Nathan needs to think louder." It was the ultimate proof in a way, that he had control on his range now. Or at least on how to pull it in so that it didn't affect anyone.

#You know how your mother works with me on the Askani music?# Nathan asked Miles, a little more loudly. The little boy nodded. #Well, because I'm a telepath, I remember things more clearly than most people.# His arms tightened around Miles just a little. #I can let you hear her sing, if you want.#

Miles' eyes went very wide at that, comprehension slowly dawning at what Nathan meant by that. Without a sound, as though afraid that breaking the silence might change everything around on him, the little boy nodded, slowly at first and then more fervently.

#Close your eyes,# Nathan told him, and pulled him very gently into a memory. Him and Alison here in the Music Room, her with her guitar in her lap, accompanying herself as she sang one of the Askani lullabies. It was a gentle, wistful piece, and Alison's rendition of it gave it an edge of real yearning. He focused on the details, made the memory as real as he could for Miles.

He would have pinched himself if he hadn't been afraid it might make everything go away without warning. It was all so real even though he knew Alison was down in the medlab in the small room he hadn't been allowed near yet, Clinging to Nathan, eyes tightly closed as he relived the memory, Miles listened with all that he had.

Nathan looped one memory into another. Alison liked the lullabies, had practiced them extensively, and he had been there for a number of those occasions. Eventually, he became aware that Miles was drifting off, but he didn't stop replaying Alison's singing, not until the little boy's breathing became steady and regular and his thoughts settled into a pattern of sleep.