xp_logs | Amanda, Moira - backdated to before Shattered.

After talking to Angelo, Amanda goes down to medlab for the usual post-healing checkup. It turns out it's not her body that needs healing - Moira provides mother-type comfort and advice on the state of Amanda's relationship with Manuel.

"Moira? You said you wanted t' do the pokin' an' proddin' thing?" Amanda
peered into the examination room of the medlab, cautiously. She was much
more comfortable with the place since she'd been working down here
regularly, but being a helper and being a patient were two different
things. And she'd been the latter far too often lately. Still, she had
promised Moira she'd come down - she suspected there had been talk between
the Scot and Nathan about just what Amanda's part of the job entailed.
"Moira?"

"Sorry, Amanda," was the muffled reply from the bathroom. "I'll be
right there." A few seconds passed while Moira wiped her mouth clean
and rinsed it out. Oh, she hated this part. Popping out, she smiled
brightly, reassuringly. "Aye, I wanted ta make sure everythin's
tickin' properly an' still in th' same place. Promised Dr. Strange
I'd give 'im a full report, tha' I did."

"Guess I'd better assume the position, then, yeah?" Amanda looked at Moira
curiously. There was something... odd about her aura, something new, but
which Amanda hadn't seen before and so wasn't sure exactly what it was. She
hopped up on the exam table, pulling off her sweater first so she was just
in a t-shirt, and sat, shivering slightly as Moira approached. "You all
right?" she asked. "Yer lookin' peaky."

She nearly told her right then and there but knew that, really, Nathan
would want to tell her together. "I'll be jus' fine," she assured
her, smiling a little bit. "Jus' need a wee bit o' a break soon.
Speakin' o' breaks an' relaxin', 'ow're ye doin' wit' everythin' tha's
been goin' on?"

Reaching over, she flipped through Amanda's file to see what the last
batch of test results had been.

"All right," Amanda said, but without a hell of a lot of conviction. "The
job was pretty hard on me with the amount of magic I had t' use, but the
recharge helped. An' the trip with Nate was brilliant." She dropped her
head a little and muttered under her breath something that sounded like
'too bad it didn't last'.

Moira glanced over at her, pursing her lips. Something had been
eating at Amanda for a good while and she could guess at what it was.
But it was better to have her say it. "Alright, gloamin'," she
murmured, checking her pulse. "Wha's wron'?"

"Noth..." Amanda caught that Look in Moira's eyes, and sighed. It wasn't
like she didn't want to talk about it - quite the contrary, in fact. But
with everything that had gone on, and the pressure everyone was under, and
the fact that everything was supposed to be fine now... it wasn't like she
felt she could say anything. Besides, Manuel was alive, and working
with the Professor and Samson, and that was all that mattered, didn't it?
"I went an' saw Manuel," she said at last. "We had a fight. Another one."

There had been that faint guilty look in her eye the second before she
had said anything. Firmly, but gently, Moira helped her down off the
table. "_This_ can wait," she explained, scooping up Amanda's
sweater. "We are goin' ta 'ave a nice cup o' tea because ye look like
ye need it. An' looks like ye need someone ta chat ta, as well."

It was an indication that a 'chat' was needed since Amanda didn't
protest at all as Moira took her arm gently and led her to her office.
Deposited on the couch, she watched Moira go about the arcane business of
tea making. "I don't want t' be a bother," she said. "Not with you needin'
that break an' all."

"Dinnae make me break me 'ippocrate oat', youn' lady," she warned,
starting up the water and rescuing two mugs. "Yer never a bother, 'ow
many times 'ave I -- we -- told ye tha'?"

"Every time I feel like I am bein' one?" Amanda suggested with a hint of a
smile. Propping her elbows on her knees and resting her chin in her hands,
she was quiet for a while, eyes on Moira. "'S just... 's hard. I see him
'round, an' he looks the same, but them I talk t' him an' he's
always angry at me. Like he blames me for not savin' enough of his
memories. Or maybe for savin' too much." There was a definite quaver in her
voice at the last. "Maybe I shouldn't have even tried - just gotten us the
fuck out of there as so as I came to."

Satisfied that she had time before the kettle shrieked, Moira sat down
on the couch and pulled Amanda in close. "Ye did wha' ye 'ad ta do,"
she murmured softly. "Manuel is confused an' upset an' ye, for good
or ill, are 'is focal point. I dinnae know 'ow much 'e'll get back
eventually but ye _tried_, Amanda an' ye saved 'is life."

"I saved someone's life. That ain't Manuel," she said heavily.
"There's not enough there for him t' be Manuel, just bits an' pieces an'
whenever he tries t' remember more, he gets sick an' forgets what he was
tryin' t' remember. Great relationship I've got, eh? Can't have an
conversation with him without him runnin' for the bathroom." Amanda barked
out a short, bitter laugh. "An' he hates me for it, I know he does."

"'as 'e said as much? Or are ye readin' some o' yer emotions in wha'
'e's sayin'? I know ye, Amanda, so I can guess 'ow much guilt yer
carryin' 'round about th' whole bloody mess. " With time, she might
get 'her' Manuel back, but Moira had to wonder how much time would
Amanda allow herself to wait?

"He won't touch me, Moira! Not even t' hold hands, or any of that. An'
every time I touch him, he pulls away!" Now she was getting to it, the
sense of rejection. "I hate bein' so fuckin' needy an' clingy, but I
got used t' it an' now I can't stop! An' the link's in me head, but 's just
me, there's nothin' on his end, an' maybe I should just talk t' the Prof
an' get him t' take it out, since it feels like I'm pushin' meself on him."

"Ye can if ye want but--even gently removed, love, it'll still be a
painful process." With a small sigh, Moira pulled the distraught girl
tighter into her arms. "Ye've every right ta be upset, ye know tha'?
'Tis nay yer fault or 'is tha' any o' this 'appened an' yet yer bot'
sufferin' th' worst consequences from it."

"I do?" It honestly came out as surprised. "Everyone seems happy that the
old Manuel's gone, seemed like I was the only one who missed him..." Curling
into Moira's hug, Amanda rested her head on the woman's shoulder and
finally let it all go, all the hurt, the fear, the anger... "I miss him,
Moira, I really do. I know he wasn't the nicest person in the world, but he
was mine, an' he loved me. An' now he's gone, an' Beth's gone, an'
it feels like everyone's leavin'..." Sobs cut off the flow of words, and
Amanda cried helplessly onto Moira's shoulder, not really able to stop now
she'd started.

She didn't say anything for a while, just held her as Amanda let it
all out. "Yer boyfriend was a right git," Moira said softly, a smile
twitching lightly. "But I never would 'ave wished this on 'im. Ye
bot' 'ave a verra 'ard road ta travel down an' ye'll make it out on
th' other side. An' aye, ye do. Ye 'ave every right ta be upset by
this. God knows I would be. Upset, angry, scared -- dinnae let anyone
let ye say ye dinnae 'ave th' right because ye do. An' we're nay
leavin' ye, gloamin', nay goin' anywhere."

"But..." Amanda managed between hiccuping breaths. Everyone leaves.
"I've been tryin'... so bloody hard, Moira... But now I'm tired... of it
all." The sobs were making it hard to talk, but she tried any way. "An'
then... I had t' go... do this job... an' I was so worried an' he wasn't
answerin' calls... an' I couldn't email him 'cause he... doesn't have his
passwords. An' all I could think of... was if somethin' went wrong... he
wouldn't know. I could've died... an' I couldn't say."

If something had gone THAT wrong, Mr. LeBeau would have had his head
on a platter. And damn the need for secrecy. "Everythin' will be
okay, somehow," Moira whispered, determined. "I know 'tis so verra
'ard for ye right now but yer stron', ye bot' are, an' ye _will_ get
there."

Amanda gave a strangled, hiccuping laugh. "Don't feel very strong, right
now," she said, lifting her head to wipe her eyes on the shoulder of her
t-shirt. "Probably don't look it, either."

"Ye look like a 'alf drowned Brit," she said, smiling as she fished
out a box of tissues from behind the couch. "But ye are stron'. One
o' th' strongest people I know, actually. Takes a lot ta still be
goin' on after all ye've been through."

Blowing her nose on a handful of tissues, Amanda took a deep, shuddering
breath. "Sometimes I don't know how I keep goin', Moira. Shite happens, I
pick meself up, I deal, an' then it happens all over again. An' each time
it seems like there's less there t' deal with it. So I start backslidin',
goin' back t' what I know, since it's always worked for me before... Like
not talkin' t' people 'bout things, thinking they're probably all sick of
me an' me fuckin' dramas..."

Reaching over, Moira gently bopped Amanda upside the head. "Ye
realize tha' back at Muir, Nathan an' I would 'ave screamin' drama's
for a good lon' while, aye? Sweetie, ye 'ave nothin' ta worry
'bout -- compared ta most o' th' mansion, yer dramas are fairly easy ta
deal wit'. For us, anyway. I think I'm jus' goin' ta staple a note
ta yer forehead so ye dinnae forget ye can come an' talk ta us. Ye
dinnae need yer old 'abits anymore."

"No staples - I'll be good," Amanda said with a watery grin, leaning away
from the bopping hand. "Got enough metal in me face as it is, tho' one less
now..." She pointed to the scar on her eyebrow. "One of those things I'm
not s'posed t' talk about."

Moira pointed at that and blinked. "Wha'? Tha'?"

Amanda nodded. "I dunno if Nate told you... things got a bit hands-on in
Vegas. An' apparently 's not just Lorna who likes yankin' me 'round by the
piercin's. Tho' at least she left 'em in. The recharge took care of it, but
yeah, wasn't fun. Still, better me than one of the others - they
couldn't've handled it. I could."

"Jesus. Plannin' on replacin' it once ye're certain 'eals? Dinnae
give me tha' look about me suggestin' it, it would jus' seem wron'
tha' ye got it taken out _tha'_ way."

"'M actually re-thinkin' the whole piercin' thing," Amanda admitted. "Not
just 'cause of that - I was talkin' t' Remy 'bout the fronts people use...
an' maybe this one ain't the one for me any more. 'S not like I've got
anyone tryin' t' put me on the game or nothin'."

There was a slightly relieved look on Moira's face at that. "Tha's a
good idea. Means I 'ave ta return most o' yer Christmas
presents...kiddin', really. Got ye somethin' other than piercin's.
But Rom's right, might be a good idea."

"Oh, I ain't gettin' rid of all of 'em. Some I like too much."
Amanda's grin was a little mischievous, but it was good to see even with
the puffy red eyes and nose. "An' speakin' of new looks... 's odd. I can
get the scars fixed, but y'know, I ain't in a hurry just yet? I dunno why,
's like now I know they're just scars, nothin' else, they don't worry me as
much. Is that daft or what?" Amanda snuggled closer under Moira's arm,
enjoying the feel. Hugs were good, and had been in shorter supply than
usual lately.

"Nay daft at all, makes perfect sense," she responded, putting her
chin on Amanda's head as the girl snuggled closer. "Ye've spent most
o' yer time detestin' them, an' wit' verra good reason, an' now
they... dinnae 'ave any meanin' ta ye. Ye 'ave less reason ta 'ate
them. Ye get them removed when ye're good an' ready."

"Makes sense." Amanda closed her eyes, relaxing into the hug. It felt...
right. Safe. "You do that a lot, y'know? Make sense. Always manage t' get
me thinkin' again, instead of reactin'."

"I'm much better 'bout givin' advice than takin' me own," she joked,
smiling. "Seriously, though, glad I do make sense ta someone around
'ere. Reactin's all well an' good but so is thinkin'."

"Most of the time I can manage both, but sometimes I get so tired an'
everythin' hits me all at once an' I can't seem t' see a way out." Amanda's
voice was getting a little drowsy, the girl herself wrung out with the
emotional extremes of the past week. "I'd forgotten what it was like t' not
be worn out until the recharge."

Moira shifted and couldn't help a grin as Amanda followed suit so that
soon she was stretched out on her lap. Stroking her hair, she sighed.
"Ye'll get a chance ta, soon, I promise. God knows ye need th'
bloody break."

"So do you," Amanda pointed out, pillowing her head on Moira's leg. This
was nice. Briefly she wondered if her birth mother had done stuff like
this, and shoved the thought away. She wasn't up to dealing with Wanda's
news yet. Later. "Thanks," she murmured tiredly, letting her eyes close as
the stroking of her hair soothed away the last of the stress. "Thanks for
listenin'. Needed t' talk t' someone who wouldn't want Manuel's head on a
stick."

That ruled out most of the mansion, she thought wryly, getting
comfortable. Amanda was obviously tired enough to nearly fall asleep
on her feet and Moira was more than happy to provide a comfortable
place to rest. The physical could wait. "Any time, gloamin', any
time. Sleep now."