xp_logs | Nathan and Jack Leary, Friday late afternoon (Reply)

Between the Mistra mission and his trip to Spain, Nathan's missed a couple of his sessions with Jack. Getting back on track is something of a challenge, but the two of them manage to have a rather productive discussion.

"Quiet around here today," Nathan said, his voice low as he came back out of the kitchenette, handing Jack one of the cups of coffee he held before he sat down. "Telepathically speaking, I mean. Or maybe my shields are just getting better." He settled into his chair a bit reluctantly, and knew that Jack would pick up on the reluctance. "Why is it that when we miss a couple of sessions I always feel uncomfortable about getting back to it?" he asked abruptly. "Is that normal?"

Accepting the coffee with a nod of thanks, Jack considered Nathan's question. And the reluctance. "It's normal," he replied. "After a break, when you feel you've been coping fine without help... there can be some reluctance to open your brain up for picking again. Especially when circumstances may have required you to fall back into old habits." This last was said with a slightly raised eyebrow - Nathan was far more composed than he had been during their last session, back during the Columbia memorial, but Jack was wondering how much of that was the disciplined repression he'd developed in order to survive.

"Haven't had much of a chance to breathe the last couple of weeks," Nathan said, sipping at his coffee. "Again. I'm sure that comes as such as a surprise." Jack gave a slight smile, and Nathan went on, a bit uncertainly. "I think I've handled it... more or less well." The first thing he'd done when Jack had arrived had been to give him a quick summary of what had happened in Canada, and then the reason for the trip to Spain. "But then, I had lots to do and not much time to think. Again."

"Perhaps that's why you're not exactly comfortable with having another session - these tend to be the times that you do have the time to think," Jack pointed out. "So. This latest round of excitement... how does it make you feel, now you've had a chance to stop for five minutes?"

"I..." Nathan trailed off, his expression gone distant, troubled. "Mixed feelings?" he finally said. "I don't know. I'm glad we rescued those kids, and Tim. I regret not being able to help any of the others." He took another deep breath. "I feel that I did the right thing in Spain, even if it was hard..." He smiled a bit wanly. "It was harder that I've really admitted to anyone else... I felt like I had to pretend it wasn't, so that they wouldn't question the choices I made."

"One of the beauties of having a therapist - I have no emotional stake in you, so you don't feel obliged to hold back, or to pretend. Family, friends... even when they wish otherwise, there are still certain demands that they make, and that we make of ourselves on their behalf." Jack sipped at his coffee. "Considering the past week or two has involved Mistra, I'd be surprised if you weren't feeling a certain amount of conflict."

Nathan thought about that for a long moment before he went on. "I'm... twitchy about admitting anything like that to Moira, or my teammates. Especially now. I feel sometimes like they're not absolutely sure I can handle any of this, like they're waiting for me to crumble under the pressure." He gave an irritated mutter, shaking his head. "But that's not fair to them, and I know that. Me thinking that is the same old thing... I'm afraid of showing weakness."

"Given the enormous amount of pressure you've been under this past year, the number of times you've ended up in medlab, it's understandable that you feel there's that expectation. Perhaps you should try looking at it another way - instead of signs of weakness, the fact you're reacting in a way that could be considered normal - and doubts and regrets are normal - you're actually showing strength. Dealing with things as they happen, instead of putting it off for a later implosion." Leaning forward a little, Jack went on. "It'll take time. Yes, you've had the breakthrough, but that doesn't mean an entire lifetime of learned behaviour is automatically reversed. Keep chipping away at those fears with logic, remind yourself there are situations where you are allowed to be less than stoic - you'll get there."

Nathan stared down into his coffee. "I hated it," he said very softly, his voice coming out hoarse. "One of MacInnis' telepaths told me I was screaming inside my head the whole time. I don't know how I managed not to fight them." He took a deep, shaky breath. "But yet it feels like the right choice." Something he'd said to Remy came back to him, and he smiled weakly. "Making lemons out of lemonade? This thing that was supposed to kill me back when Kritzer created it is now something I can use to do for others what I did for Tim."

"You've taken something out of your control and made it yours," Jack pointed out. "The Trojan Horse was something imposed on you, without your consent. By choosing to keep it, to have it modified so it can be used without killing you... you're taking back control of your life."

"MacInnis didn't expect me to say yes when he asked." Nathan gave a wintry little smile. "I think that was why he didn't protest too hard when I set my conditions." He sipped at his coffee. "I think he thought he'd guilt me into it, with what he told me earlier in the week," he said more quietly, and briefly filled Jack in on what MacInnis had told him about New Mexico and the eighteen trainees.

"There's no 'think' about it - the man was blatantly trying to push your buttons." Jack didn't look exactly happy about that. "Did he succeed?"

"At first," Nathan said, his voice still low. "Managed not to quite run out of the room - I told him I needed some air. It was the middle of the night..." He trailed off, frowning a bit. "I was actually sick, once I got outside. Physically, I mean. It took me a while to settle back down." He peered down at his coffee, then set it aside. "I like to think that wasn't my primary motivation for agreeing to what I did later in the week, but if I'm going to be honest I can't say that it didn't factor into it."

"I'd call you a liar if you said it didn't," Jack said honestly. "As long as you don't let that guilt rule you, however - there's nothing to be gained by sacrificing your life in order to atone for something you did when you were, to put it frankly, out of your mind with grief and rage and suffering the effects of conditioning broken under immense strain."

"One more thing I can't change," Nathan said quietly. "I went down a couple of days ago to check on the kids who are still here, the ones who didn't have anywhere to go." He smiled, just a little. "They're doing well. It helps, to see that." Jack nodded, and Nathan went on, unable to help the frustration that crept into his voice. "I'm just tired, Jack... and I don't mean tired in the scary 'Please stop the world before I fall to pieces' sort of way. I just feel worn out."

"You keep saying this as if it's a flaw," Jack said mildly. "Like it's something you shouldn't feel. When was the last time you actually had more than a week without some kind of crisis?"

"Well, January wasn't too busy," Nathan said feebly. "After the doubleheader crisis at New Year's..." He shrugged, a bit apathetically. "You know, I was having trouble when I first got back. So much had happened while I was in Spain that I felt... guilty, I suppose. For not being here. People I care about, having various crises of their own..." He rubbed at his temples for a moment, sighing. "And this stings to admit, but part of me was just... irritable. I wanted to come home and rest, and I really should have known better."

"Nathan," Jack set aside his coffee cup and leaned forward again, voice intense. "It's good to care about people, to want to help them but there has to come a time when you realise that you also have a duty to yourself. If you need the break, if you can't cope with the crises of others, well, that's allowed. You can't help others if you're burned out, and that's what you're dangerously close to becoming." His tone turned sympathetic. "It's difficult, not being able to help those we love, but... you're not the only help they have available. And you have to look after yourself, otherwise you're no good to yourself, or them."

Nathan nodded, conceding the point - although it stung, still, even if it didn't produce the same sense of panicky denial of the very concept of stepping back that it might have six months ago. "Time to dig out the evil little green pills again, I suppose," he said with a sigh. "I'm having such trouble sleeping. It started when Moira went away, and it doesn't seem to be improving now that she's back."

"You've got a lot of stuff rattling around in that head of yours - I'm not surprised you're having trouble sleeping," Jack said with a wry grin. "Another sense of defeat, I know, but it's all part of the overall issue - you're emotionally and mentally exhausted, and you need a break. Once you're out of crisis mode, the sleeping will improve."

"Switching gears," Nathan said, and then explained. "I feel like I had to be in a different mindset completely, these last couple of weeks. And it's harder that I thought it would be to get back to how I should be thinking while I'm here. It feels odd. Cooking class with the little kids felt downright surreal."

"Especially when that mindset is familiar and comfortable - back with an operations team, with people you knew and worked with for a very long time," Jack observed. "Which is more natural feeling to you? There or here?"

Nathan opened his mouth, then closed it again. "There," he said very quietly. "MacInnis sniping at me every opportunity he got or not." He mustered a faint smile. "But I did feel drawn back here, if that makes any sense. I missed it."

"You've got personal ties here - it makes perfect sense. But you also don't have the same sense of purpose... or the same respect you have there. Like you said, you feel as if people are waiting for you to break, or that they find you amusing... In Spain, MacInnis aside, you were taken seriously."

Nathan frowned a little, but didn't dispute that. "A lot of what I was taken seriously for over there has no application here and now," he said with a sigh, finally. "And really, there's part of me that knows that's a good thing, that's happy about that... but it's hard, too." His tone turned wry as he went on. "I still have trouble with some of the kids, though. There's part of me that wants that respect from them... I suppose that's human."

"It's difficult, realising that a large chunk of your life experience and knowledge is not applicable any more," Jack agreed. "And you've come from a situation where you were pack leader - artificially constructed or not, you've still got the instincts there. And it's entirely human, wanting to be respected. Especially when you're as much a natural teacher as you are a soldier."

"I think I've finally accepted that I can't adapt to that overnight, or even in a year," Nathan said with a brief smile. "Doesn't make me bristle any less when I get kids telling me their judgement is better than mine, or calling me a madman... but my control over my temper is getting better than it was. Gradually."

"That's the nature of teenagers, to think they know everything and to make sure everyone knows they do," Jack said wryly. "And it doesn't help that you've been involved in one disaster or another since you got here - for kids like these, actions tend to speak louder than words, for all their sound and fury. Give them time - as you gain more control over your situation, that'll reflect in your actions and attitude, and they'll pick up on that. And you're taking steps to get that control - your owning of the Trojan Horse being a perfect example."

"I sometimes regret never having had the opportunity to be anything approaching a normal teenager," Nathan said dryly. "It sounds so very liberating." He reached out and picked up his coffee cup again. "One thing at a time, right?"