xp_logs | Nathan and Amanda, Thursday morning

After reading her post about her plans to go to the Columbia memorial, Nathan immediately goes to talk to Amanda. There's no shouting, but the conversation doesn't go particularly well, mostly because she doesn't hold much back on the subject of why she's doing this and why she didn't tell him. Some truths are hard to stomach.

'Oh bloody hell...' Amanda thought, reading Nathan's reply and practically sensing him coming downstairs to find her. Well, she should have expected some sort of reaction from him, although she was hoping for something a little more suuportive... Still, she'd made up her mind and she was sticking to it.

Nathan didn't have a clear memory of getting down the stairs to the second floor, let alone down the hall to Amanda's door. His brain was in a state of incredulous shock, and the tiny voice that suggested that it would maybe be a very good idea to calm down a little before he had this discussion with her went mostly unheard.

Her door was half-open, and he didn't bother knocking. "This has got to be a joke," he said uncertainly to the witch sitting on the couch, her laptop open on a cushion beside her. "You're kidding. Tell me that's it."

"You really think I'd joke 'bout somethin' like this?" she replied quietly, but with a certain firmness in her tone. She wasn't going to be budged from this, not after finally making the decision.

"Well... no," Nathan floundered, staring down at her. "But I can't figure out what you're thinking." He made a move towards the couch, then stopped, heading over to the window instead. "Amanda," he started. "This is going to be televised, this... memorial. Yes?"

"Probably," Amanda said steadily, trying not to think about that part. Bad enough she was going to be standing up in front of thousands of people... "Doesn't make a difference, tho' - I'm still doin' it. 'S too important."

"Televised," Nathan said steadily. "National television. At least. Knowing that Mistra knows who you are, are you really willing to dare them like that?"

"Mistra's known who I am since the day it happened, Nate. An' where I am. If they were gunna do somethin', they would've done it by now. Fuck knows they've had plenty of chances - In London, when I was meetin' me family, any number of times when I've been goin' to and from Strange's classes. Why should this make anythin' any different?" There was just a slight obstinate tilt to her chin as she looked back at him. "I'm not goin' t' let those bastards win, Nate. An' if I let them scare me off this, that's what'll happen."

"I--" Damn it. "It's taking too much of a chance!" he said restlessly, breaking eye contact and knowing he was giving himself away as he did it. "In that kind of crowd, on that particular day..."

"Chance of what? Them comin' after me? They'd have t' be bloody mental! The place is gunna be packed with plods, an' all those scary secret agent types like Bartlet's old job as well. An' I'm not goin' t' be on me own - Strange will be there, an' probably comeone else from the school. It'll be safe. Any way..." She stood, without really realising she had, and rounded on him, hands on hips. "It wouldn't matter even if it wasn't. I'd still do it. Someone needs t' stand up t' these people, Nate, let them know they can't do stuff like that. I can't go in an' get the bastards meself, but I can at least show 'em they haven't broken me the same way they've broken Mick an'..." She cut herself off, not wanting to hurt him, but for fuck's sake, it needed saying. "An' you."

Nathan's jaw clenched, and for a minute, he honestly could not find his voice. "You think I'm trying to talk you out of this," he finally gritted, "because I'm afraid. You're damned right I'm afraid." The heat flooded into his voice so suddenly that he couldn't stop it. "I also have reason to be afraid. Do you really think you saw everything they could do six months ago? Do you think they can't be subtle? Who saw them kidnap Moira, Amanda?"

"Moira was on her own when they did that, an' she wasn't expectin' them t' go after her," Amanda pointed out, reasonably. "I'm not stupid, Nate. I'm not about t' do this an' then go wanderin' 'round New York with a sign 'round me neck sayin' 'come an' get me!'." Sliding her hands into the back pockets of her jeans - it was a less confrontational posture - she looked at him and sighed. "You keep tellin' me I have t' trust you people, right? Well, that's what I'm doin'. I've spoken t' the X geezer about this already - he thinks it's a good idea. An' Pete's gunna be me second shadow for a good while after. I'm bloody terrified, Nate," she admitted. "But I'm not gunna let that stop me."

Charles and Pete had both... Nathan swallowed. "Why... why didn't you tell me about this, if you've been planning it? Why leave me to find out about it once it's all been arranged?"

"Because I knew you'd react like this," she replied honestly. "Nate, I trust you with me life, you know that, but..." She had to swallow a sudden lump in her throat - he looked so upset, and not a little hurt. "But I know what yer like with Mistra. I knew yer'd freak, that you wouldn't want me t' go, that you'd do _this_." Amanda took another breath. "They've got you beaten, Nate. That's why I couldn't say anythin'."

"Beaten." He stared at her almost blankly. He'd gone in after Kyle, hadn't he? And Mick? If he was beaten, how had he managed to do that? "How can you look me in the eyes and say that?"

"Because yer lettin' 'em rule yer life, even now. By takin' the blame for what _they_ did at Columbia, instead of layin' it on their doorstep where it belongs. By turnin' 'em into the big bad boogeyman that's gunna swoop down an' kidnap me in front of thousands of people, no matter how ridiculous that is in terms of tactics." Amanda bit her lip, but forced herself on. "By lettin' 'em turn you into this nervous wreck who can't see the good in what I'm doin'."

"Okay." Patience. Non-nervous wreck-like behavior. Show her that she was wrong. "When did a discussion of how unsafe this is turn into you psychoanalyzing me?"

"When you wouldn't listen t' me tellin' you I don't care if it's not safe. Which it is," she hastened to add. "Fuck, Nate don't you think I haven't thought of this? Especially after walkin' into the Hellfire Club with Manuel like a total moron? People need t' be told that not all mutants are monsters, an' I can do that."

Nathan's eyes widened. "And... how exactly are you planning to do that?" he asked unsteadily. "If you're an anonymous member of a nice, safe enormous crowd?"

"I'm gettin' up there an' tellin' 'em." Okay, she hadn't meant to tell him this part, since he'd so not dealt with the other part any way, but might as well be hung for a sheep as well as a lamb... "Strange has been helpin' me write me speech for the last couple of days, an' he's fine with it. Says he can shield me if he needs to, like he did back then." She added that part on purpose.

"You're getting up there. Making a speech." On national television. And Strange was helping. Oh, that was nice. Nathan turned back to the window, staring blindly out at the snow-covered grounds. "Outing yourself as a mutant."

"Wouldn't be much point otherwise," she told him calmly. "Sure I could get up there an' give 'em the story of just another victim, but I'm _not_ a victim. I'm not goin' t' let them push me into thinkin' like that, not any more. Not Mistra, not Rack, not even fuckin' Selene."

"Not like me, huh?" Nathan looked back at her, unable to keep his features quite under control. "Fair enough. I've always tried to convince you I was the anti-role model."

"Cut that shite, Nate." She came forward and took his hands, ignoring the tension she could feel thrumming through him. "You _are_ my role model, Nate. You an' Moira an' Pete an' Dom. Yer've taught me t' be strong, t' stand up for meself when I need to. An' maybe this is a hell of a lot more idealistic than you an' Pete ever meant me t' be, but I'm sick of sittin' back an' watchin' my friends an' family take knocks just 'cause they happen t' be mutants. It doesn't have t' be that way - I've seen places where it isn't. An' maybe me doin' this isn't gunna change a fuckin' thing, but at least I got up there an' tried. At least I believed in somethin' enough to want to. An' you taught me how t' do that, believe. You believed in me even when I'd written meself off. No matter how much I tried t' convince you you were wrong."

Nathan's jaw clenched, and he tried to make himself meet her eyes, but he couldn't. "I can't be there," he said hoarsely. "And don't say anything to me about image inducers, or telepathic masks... I can't. I've seen this things before, Amanda." His voice shook and he bit his lip hard, trying to wrestle the emotions back down. "They get up there, one at a time, and talk about what they experienced, how it hurt, what they've lost... and whatever anyone's said to me about how it's not my fault, or that the guilt is theirs and no one else's, it wouldn't have happened if I hadn't been there. There's no changing that."

"You don't have t' be," she told him, even 'though she couldn't help a stab of disappointment at his words. "Strange an' Manuel will be there, Ange too, probably. An' there's gunna be at least one of the teachers - the X geezer wouldn't think of lettin' me do this without one of the leather brigade playin' nursemaid..." She gave him a weak smile at her lame joke. "Just... try an' understand? Why I have t' do this?"

"That's... one of the fringe benefits of telepathy. Knowing what people are thinking." He tried to smile, too, didn't quite manage it. "And it's not like you haven't explained it to me anyway." Yes, she'd been very upfront. Hurray for forthrightness.

"Knowin' ain't always understandin', but I'll settle for that," she said, before stepping in to hug him, whether he wanted her to or not. "I do love you, Nate," she said quietly, so quietly it was barely audible - she knew he'd hear her. "No matter what."

He went rigid at the sudden embrace, fighting the instinct to pull away. Backsliding. Definitely backsliding. Nathan took a deep, shaky breath and then hugged her back tentatively, knowing it was what she needed. Reassurance. This was all of it he could give her right now.

She sighed to herself at his reaction, and cut the hug short, carefully schooling her features and her mind into a neutral calm. This wasn't about her, never had been, really. "I should get back t' me homework," she said, shoving her hands into the front pockets of her jeans, eyes sympathetic but determined. She was right about this, and while she understood why Nathan couldn't be there, she wasn't going to let that stop her. "Since I missed the first week of term an' all. Wanna have dinner with me later? I can bring somethin' up. Wouldn't want Moira t' think I wasn't lookin' after you."

"Sure," he said, mustering a faint smile. "Dinner would be good. I think... I'll be up in the suite, doing stuff for class." Distraction was precisely what was called for, and he was supposed to be taking a training break at the moment.

"Good. I'll see you then." There was a long, awkward silence, where neither of them moved, and then Amanda said, wryly: "Um, this'd be the part where you go, Nate. I would, only I live here an' all..."

"Right," Nathan said after a moment, his voice hoarse. "I'll just... go, then." He turned around and went to the door, pausing for a moment, his hand on the doorknob. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, before he opened it and went out.

"I'm not," she replied softly as the door closed behind him. With a sigh, she returned to the couch and her laptop, where an essay on Arabic poetry awaited. That could have gone a whole lot better.