On Friday night...

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Moira heads downstairs after trading her lab coat for something warmer. Despite it only being October in the US, she's freezing, still trying to get over whatever had her sick for nearly two weeks. So she's wrapped tightly in jeans and three sweaters. She stops by her office and peers in. Sighing, she realizes that the blankets are still there, there is no Angelo and the hot chocolate hasn't been touched. Pausing briefly to pick up the blanket and quickly makes a cup of hot chocolate, she heads down to the Medlab. Seeing Doug outside the Medlab, who appears to be dozing, she smiles and smoothes down his hair. Seeing he's asleep, she doesn't wake him up. Stepping in, she asks, "Angelo, lad?"

Angelo looks up on hearing her voice, and smiles in greeting. "Hey, Dr MacTaggert."

Her eyes flicker over him and then then Paige, who looks like she hasn't woken up yet. Swallowing her own worry, Moira smiles back. "I see ye havena left Paige's side as o' yet, Angelo. Doug is catchin' some...unexpected sleep, I'd suspect." She holds up the blanket and hot chocolate. "As should ye."

"Not as easy as it sounds, right now", he says ruefully. "I keep thinking, what if I leave or go to sleep, and something happens to her?"

"Well, if'n tha's somethin' would be wakin' then she'd be pleased tha' ye watched over her, an' even more pleased tha' ye'd be gettin' yer rest." She pulls another chair over and settles herself in. "If...somethin' else where ta happen..." She shakes her head. "Which I dinnae think would. Paige seems ta be made o' somethin' strong, lad, verra strong. She'll pull through this, when 'er body decides it's time ta come ta us."

"I know. But... I more or less promised Jono I'd look after her, since he... isn't able to stay here. Doesn't feel right to leave. I might try and get some sleep down here, though..."

Smiling, Moira nods. "Aye, nothin' says ye cannae catch a quick nap by her side." She looks at Paige and her smile turns softer. "I remember...when Dr. Campbell first lost 'is leg. Did what yer doin' now, dinnae leave 'is side till he woke up after 'is surgery. Ye want ta know what 'is first words ta me were?"

"What?" he asks.

"He woke up an' looked at me an' said 'Woman, ye look like shit, go ta bed an'...thank ye'." Laughing at how she mangled Rory's accent, she looks at Angelo. "Ten ta one, tha' lass says somethin' alon' those lines. Less cursin' perhaps."

"Yeah, she probably will", Angelo admits. "But I do want to be here when she wakes up. She should see a friend when that happens, and since Jono won't stay..." He sighs. "Is Doug still outside?"

"Aye, I can understand why he dinnae want ta be here." She sighs at some memory and then focuses back on him. "Doug's still parked outside, cat nappin' over 'is laptop. Ye bot' are dedicated, tha's fer sure...an' stubborn ta boot. I swear if I didna know better I'd swear ye were Scottish." Gently, she pushes the hot chocolate into Angelo's hands. "Lest ye can do fer an 'old' woman is ta keep yerself warm in this bloody place."

Angelo takes the cup gratefully. "Thanks", he says. "And as for us being dedicated... well, she's a good friend."

"So are ye. I've seen me gargolyes at Muir Island move more than ye have since she was brought in here."

"She's been good to me", he says seriously. "Watching over her now is the least I can do."

"Mmm." Moira leans back, watching silently for a few minutes. "She's a good person, truly, from what I know o' her. Runs in her family, seems like. An' lucky ta have friends like ye an' Doug an' th' others."

Angelo half-smiles. "That's not luck. It's who she is. I haven't met anyone here who doesn't like Paige."

"I've known people like her in me time, good people, strong people. An' they've all made it through some terrible things." Her shoulders slump. "An' why do I hav' this feelin' tha' she'll be facin' more'n this in th' future?" It is nearly a whisper but Moira looks tired, deflated, all of a sudden. She shakes herself. "An' she'll, an' ye'll an' th' rest o' them, will make it out o' whatever comes. An' tha's nay me being patronizin' an' old, tha's jus' how I see it."

"No, I think we will. From what I hear, a lot of the students here have survived... bad stuff already." He adds, almost to himself, "I know I have..."

She looks at him with sad eyes and for a second sees someone else sitting where he is. "Aye, unfortunatly bad stuff tends ta follow th' mutant gene wherever it may travel ta. But from what I can see, Angelo, yer a stronger man fer havin' ta go through whatever ye went through. An' while it hurts here," she touches her chest above her own heart "it'll also strengthen us there as well." She leaves the door open for Angelo, inviting him to talk if he wanted to talk but understanding that he may want that door to be closed for now.

Angelo sighs, then decides that he might as well talk. It isn't like the circumstances of his manifestation are still a secret. "The short version of the story is that I manifested in front of some people I thought were my friends, and they tried to kill me." He holds up his hands, moving the concealing skin aside to show the burn scars there. "Got these getting away."

Moira hisses slightly, knowing medically how much pain that would have caused especially given Angelo's powers.

He nods slightly, lost in the memory. "Spent the next week or two hiding from them on the streets. Mr Summers found me there and brought me back."

She shakes her head and then smiles sadly. "All tha' an' I still find ye sittin' beside a friend an' waitin' for her ta open her eyes again. Were we all tha' stron', Angelo lad, were we all tha' stron'." She thinks back years ago, of months spent crawling inside a bottle after her loss. Her weakness.

"Getting out was the best thing that ever happened to me", he says suddenly, apropos of nothing much, except perhaps the need to say it aloud. "Back in LA, I was involved in stuff that... isn't good in the long-term. I'd have been dead before I hit 21, if I'd stayed..."

Moira glances over at Angelo. The boy is made of stronger stuff then perhaps anyone really knows. "Tha' ye know tha' has ta show ye somethin'." She touches his shoulder briefly, giving it a gentle squeeze.

He looks up at her, smiling slightly for a moment. "I've been thinking about it a lot, especially sitting down here. 'S ironic: the worst thing I can remember going through, probably saved my life. And it got me here, to meet all these great people."

"I dinnae believe much," she says in response, hand still on Angelo's shoulder but her eyes on Paige. "I've had too much personal loss an' I'm still flounderin' fer tha' particular emotion. But sometimes thin's happen tha' are out o' our control...fer a reason."

Angelo pulls his rosary out of his pocket, looking down at it. "It's funny... I've got more faith now than I ever did before... that things are meant to happen."

She smiles down at it. "We all heal in tha' regard differently. I may find Him again one day, when I'm done payin' fer me guilt. Until then, though, I still 'ave a healthy regard fer th' fact tha' things cannae be explained even by science."

Angelo wants to ask what she meant by her "guilt", but returns the favour she did him earlier by not asking. If she wants to talk about it, she will.

Moira realizes, with a quiet chuckle, what the silence means and leans back, head tilted up to the ceiling. "I lost someone verra dear ta me many years ago an', ta this day, I still believe I could 'ave prevented it. But in a way, it's made me inta th' woman, th' scientist, tha' I am today." She catches his eye. "Sometime later, I may tell ye who or what but...not know, not yet." Her eyes settle on Paige. "This has made it to fresh." Rising, she holds out the blanket. "An' since I know what ye're feelin', I'm nae goin' ta try ta get ye ta leave. But drink up, lad an' stay warm. We dinnea want ta start th' next week wit' ye in here an' Paige watchin' over ye."

Angelo takes the blanket, putting the cup down on the floor for a moment to wrap it around himself. Then he picks it up again, and takes a sip. "I promise." He looks up with something close to his old cocky grin. "But I don't usually get sick."

Moira laughs. "An' neither do I...yet I get ta America an' I'm struck down fer nearly two weeks wit' somethin'. Jus' watchin' out fer ye." She nods at Paige and grins impishly. "She'd 'ave me 'ead if'n I didn't."

Angelo actually laughs now. "Yeah, she probably would at that." He looks down at Paige fondly. "She worries."

Moira steps up and smoothes down the sheets around Paige, tucking her in a little better. Her movements are sure, strong, like she's done this many times before. "Aye, she does at tha'. An' she cares. It's nice ta see her bein' taken care o' fer once...jus' wish th' lass had the chicken pox an' not this." She walks by Angelo, squeezing his shoulder as she goes. "Cat naps, at least, lad will do ye well. I'll see ye later an', o' course, in the company o' Paige. She'll be fine."

He smiles warmly, grateful for her reassurance. "I know. But... thanks for saying it. And for the blanket."

"Nay problem, any time. An' I mean tha'." With a last smile, she steps out of the room, leaving Paige and her guardian to sleep, hopefully. She looks down at Doug, again in a quick cat nap and sighs. Kneeling, she straightens him slightly so that he doesn't fall over and puts his laptop back on his lap from where it had tipped over. "Sleep well, lad, ye've earned it."

Comments

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It's official. I love Moira.

(and how well you handle her accent)

Awesome log you two. Paige is blushing up a storm.