xp_logs | Nathan and Jack, Thursday morning

Nathan has another session with Jack. Amazingly enough, progress is made (although admittedly, he doesn't mention the dialogues with himself).

"... actually not such a bad thing," Nathan murmured, his voice tired but clear. In his peripheral vision, he saw Jack shift slightly in his chair, but he continued to gaze up at the ceiling, mentally tracing the patterns of the collage. "All of this time to think. Hard to hide from things when you can't run away and bury yourself in something else."

"That's certainly a change in perspective from the last time we spoke," Jack said with a small smile, pleased at the change. "And what sort of things have you been finding crop up when you can't distract yourself?"

"A funny sort of fatigue..." Nathan mused, a bit dissatisfied by his own choice of words. He'd decided he wasn't going to tell Jack about the 'visitations', given that he really wasn't positive they weren't just very odd dreams. Better to stick to the concrete emotional stuff, as much of an oxymoron as that was. "Or impatience, maybe. I'm tired of the downward spirals when I find myself caught in them. It's just... too much, if that makes any sense?" He hesitated, then went on. "I'm so tired. In the normal meaning of the word... the pain's still pretty constant, too. And I just... get frustrated."

"Perhaps you're seeing those downward spirals as a lack of progress?" Jack suggested. "You're a man who solves problems, Nathan, it's what you're trained for as well as a part of who you are. Finding yourself continuing the same patterns, the same reactions, when you know they are neither healthy or realistic... no wonder there's that sense of frustration." Jack deliberately used the word 'patterns', knowing Nathan's particular focus on that.

"Amanda leaving..." If he could have shaken his head, he would have. He'd filled Jack in on the circumstances towards the beginning of their session. "It really threw me into a tailspin. I kept going over and over things in my head, trying to figure out how I could have... done better, done something more to help her." A note of frustration entered his voice as he went on. "But damn it, Jack... I can't see how I could have avoided winding up like this. Not unless I'd never gone to Youra in the first place, and that wasn't even an option."

"No, it wasn't, and she wouldn't have thanked you for it even if it was," Jack said quietly. "Sometimes, Nathan... sometimes we have to let people make their own choices, as hard as that might seem. You can guide, but in the end, Amanda needs to stand on her own. And part of that is you learning that sometimes you aren't going to be able to be there for her. The life you've chosen... there will be times when other things have greater priority. And I'd say stopping Mistra was one of those times."

"Works into that whole fear of being unreliable," Nathan muttered a bit darkly. "Which is stupid." The frustration came flooding back all at once. "I nearly got myself killed trying to do what had to be done... I might still be wrestling with some aspects of how it turned out, but why should I feel guilty that it landed me flat on my back? It doesn't make any sense." He gave a harsh sigh. "It took everything I had. Everything. Couldn't have done more if I'd tried. So why should I feel guilty that I can't give any more right now?" He didn't know who he was angry with.

"Because that's how you've learned to react?" Jack's tone was as even as always. "You've been made to feel responsible for everything - it's a natural reaction in the face of that."

"Well, I'm tired of it." His voice was strained, a little wild. Not hysterical, though. Not quite. "All you do with impossibly high standards is shatter yourself on them. It's all me, too... I've been doing this to myself. And if I keep doing it now, after what's happened, I won't be able to live with myself."

"That's true," Jack said, with a certain pleased glint in his eyes. "It sounds like this contemplation of your has been most productive. So what do you see as the next step? You've realised you can't continue on the same path, what now?"

"I need to..." Nathan trailed off, flushing a little. "Well, I need to focus on myself for a while here, I think. Getting over these injuries is going to take a lot of energy, and I can't afford to be expending it on every issue that crops up around here." His voice grew weary as he went on. "And there are other things. I need to figure out what I want to do once I am recovered. Whether I'm putting those leathers back on or not."

If Nathan had been expecting censure, he didn't get it. "Good," Jack said. "Very good. That's precisely what you need to be focusing on, healing." He tilted his head slightly. "You worked so hard to get the leathers. What's changed?" There was no condemnation either, just curiousity.

"If you get knocked down enough times you start to wonder about whatever it is you're doing that lands you flat on your ass on a regular basis," Nathan muttered. "This is the second mission in a row where I've come off the plane and straight into the medlab." And both had been Mistra, part of him pointed out, but he ignored it.

It might have been easy for Nathan to ignore his inner voice, but not so much Jack. "And who have those missions involved?" he reminded, raising an eyebrow.

"Mistra. Does it really matter?" Nathan asked restlessly. "I'm still winding up in the medlab. Still sidelined, again..."

"Considering the scale of Mistra's operation and assets, yes, it does matter. You weren't the only X-man injured, in this last mission, and you weren't the only one sidelined. And considering the role you've played in both those missions... is it really so surprising you've been injured?"

Damn it, he hated when Jack threw logic at him. Nathan grumbled under his breath, staring up at the ceiling. The picture of Muir caught his eye again. "I just want it to stop happening," he said abruptly. "And it's not like I'm being incautious, damn it... I have everything in the world to be careful for." He sighed suddenly. "Which is why I'm wondering. If it's always going to be like this, for better or worse... should I really be doing it." It wasn't a question. Well, it was a question, but it wasn't one Jack could answer for him; he knew that much.

"That's a choice you'll have to make, yes," Jack said. "But considering both missions you've been on so far have related to Mistra... perhaps you don't have all the data you need to make that decision yet? Consider, yes, think it over, but perhaps wait until you've had the chance to see if it's going to be like that before you make the decision. I wouldn't be saying this if it hadn't seemed so important to you before."

"Be an X-Man for a while longer before I decide I'm not fit for it?" Nathan asked, only half-ironically. "I suppose that's a thought." He paused. "I suppose I did fairly well back in November, when Alison was attacked... not that I really did much, apart from the cleanup work. But I helped get her home."

"That's the point of the trainee program, as I understand it," Jack said. "A chance for both the individual and the team leaders to decide if being an X-Man is what they want, and are able, to do. You obviously are far too well-trained to become a trainee, but there's no reason why you can't think of yourself as the same."

"The idea of not cutting it doesn't sit well with me. And yes, I know that's all part of it..." Nathan trailed off, his expression settling into bleaker lines. "Maybe I just want some peace and quiet. You've been suggesting for months that I need a break. I feel..." He couldn't think of a better word than the one that felt so selfish. "Resentful. Thinking of having to get up from this bed, when I do, and start dealing with other people's crap. The crisis du jour. Whatever."

"And who says you have to?" Jack pointed out. "Given the stress of the last few months, the degree of injury, the fact you will be getting married eventually... Wouldn't you say you're due some you time?"

"Except how do you say no?" Nathan said drearily. "When people... push at you, expect things from you, how do you tell them no? How do you push them away when they need you?" He bit his lip. "Some of the people I care most about in the world are miserable right now," he said heavily. "I should be willing to push myself for them, but I'm not. I've just... it's too much, Jack. I want out of this bed, but I want out of this bed because I hate the fucking cage and I want to be able to move again. I don't want out of this bed so that I can do what I should be doing," he concluded, half-guiltily, half-defiantly. "I'm sick of 'shoulds.'" And now he was whining.

"And so am I," Jack said frankly. "Nathan... we've been through this before. Caring for someone, wanting to help - it's an admirable thing, yes. But you can't continue to do that at the expense of your ow physical and mental health. Forget the 'shoulds', forget the obligations, focus on yourself for a change. It's hard, I know, but the ones you love won't thank you for half-killing yourself for them. Not if they care for you at all."

"Half-measures were never enough before," Nathan muttered. "When it came to doing what the people I cared about needed. Back at Mistra, if I didn't give it everything I had, I wouldn't be successful. Everything and the kitchen sink, every bit of willpower and deviousness I could summon up... it was a fight. Everything was a fight, and if I didn't fight to win someone else almost always suffered." The words came out in a restless flood, and he couldn't figure out why he was feeling so talkative. "Are the stakes not as high here? Is that something I still haven't learned?"

"The risks are not as high, no. At Mistra, if you failed, then the person you were trying to help was facing termination, yes? Like with Anika?"

"Not always. Sometimes termination. Sometimes penal measures. Sometimes it would be missions I'd be arguing against, or trying to modify... so that the risks were manageable, at least. The directors aren't--weren't always the best at coming up with workable deployment plans." Nathan, restlessly, moved his fingers, in specific patterns, trying to ground himself with the little physical activity he was actually allowed. "And it was so hard just to get through to them sometimes. To reach the person inside the conditioning..."

"So you got used to having to throw everything you had into a situation," Jack pointed out. "But that's not a long-term way to live your life, Nathan. You keep giving your all into a situation, eventually you'll have nothing left to give."

He couldn't deny the logic of it, not now. It all made sense, but... "And how do you stop feeling guilty?" Nathan asked tiredly. "How do you stop waiting for the people you're not giving your all for to turn on you and say that they aren't... that you don't..." He trailed off. Neither way was going to come out properly. "You don't, do you? It's one of those things... you take your chances." And he couldn't quite suppress a flicker of panic at the thought, which made him angry in a different way. "I don't know how to be okay with that," he said hollowly. "Maybe I have to learn, but I don't know how to make the fear go away."

"The best way to deal with fear is to face what you're afraid of." It was the eminently practical advice of a man who had also been trained to action, to war. "There will be those who will not deal with you focusing on yourself, but I think you will find the number is far reduced than you think. And those who can't begrudge you the space and time to heal yourself... are they really deserving of your care? Relationships, healthy ones, are reciprocal. You care for them, they care for you. And if they truly care for you, then seeing you looking after yourself should be enough." Again, the deliberate use of the word.

"It'd be good," Nathan said a bit raggedly. "Not to feel like I'm setting myself up to fail people anytime I hold back." He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to wrap his mind around the idea. "Holding on so tightly is exhausting sometimes. I'm just so afraid of losing anyone else. I really don't think I could handle anyone else I love cursing me because I didn't do enough..." His eyes snapped open, wide open. "Oh."

Oh indeed. Jack sat back, watching Nathan intently. "Aliya?" he asked quietly.

"I... never told you that, did I?" His throat felt oddly dry. "When I was trying to get back to the hotel, when she and Tyler were attacked... she was screaming for help down the link at first. Then she was cursing me, for leaving them... just before they killed her."

Jack was quiet for a long moment, obviously marshalling his thoughts. Telepathic links complicated psychiatry no end. At last, he spoke. "Aliya was an instructor, yes? Trained just as you were?"

"No. She wasn't an operative." He took a deep breath and then went on. "She was a freelance telepath when she was recruited into Mistra to help train their operatives. Not as part of a conditioning team. She was... six years older than me. We really shouldn't have ever gotten involved."

"You both made your choices," Jack said quietly. "To get involved, and to leave - if she had really wanted to stay that badly, don't you think she would have?"

"I threatened her," Nathan said heavily. "I told her that it was up to her, whether she stayed or came with me, but that I was taking Tyler, one way or the other." He stared up at the ceiling. "She was right, in the end. It didn't work, trying to run. I did everything I could, thought I had it all set up so that we'd be safe..." His eyes shifted back to Jack, full of pain yet strangely clear. "Yet part of me was so angry at her. I think I... held back. I've wondered so many times why I left them in the hotel. In hindsight..." He gave a faint, breathless laugh that was more sad than amused. It was all making too much sense. "I made a mistake. I've always known that I made a mistake, doing that, but I never thought about why. I left them, they died. That was all that ever mattered."

Jack was quiet, letting Nathan process that. "We all make mistakes, he said at last. "And we all make choices. Aliya still made one, to come with you, even if you feel you didn't leave her the option of refusing. But that is something you need to work through and process, the circumstances of that day, what you did and what you could have done. And it's understandable, why you hold on as tightly as you do now. But we've covered this before, Nathan - you are one man, and you can't stop everything that happens to the people you care about. And in the end, you do them no favours by trying - you can't be there all the time, and in sheltering them too much, you stop them from learning to protect themselves."

"Do you ever get tired of repeating yourself when you're talking to me?" Nathan managed a very wan smile. "It's got to be frustrating after a while..." Jack merely smiled back slightly, and Nathan tried to relax. "So what if I tried it one day at a time?" he asked after a few moments of silence. "I've been thinking about perceptions of time a lot, lying here. Thinking about how long it's going to take me to recover isn't helpful. But if I break it down into smaller pieces, it starts to go by faster..."

Jack's smile broadened a little. "See? You're learning - one day at a time is all you can be asked for."

"I just want to rest, you know," Nathan said with a sigh. He was getting tired again, but a nap wasn't what he meant, and he knew Jack would know that. "I've wanted that for a while. The irony, though, if it's just a matter of doing it..." The wan smile came back. "I think it'll be easier right now, though. It's not like I can react that quickly on any level... gives me some space to stop and think before I do or say things."

"Well, as much as I would have preferred you get that time and space without the broken back, it's good to see you taking the opportunity." Jack noted Nathan's growing tiredness. "Use this time to think things through, to process - your mental state needs recuperation time as much as anyone else. And if anyone puts any pressure on you to do more than you feel you're ready for, point them my way."