xp_logs | Nathan and Alison, Sunday afternoon

Backdated to Sunday afternoon, before Nathan leaves the medlab. Alison stops in to visit him. They talk about matters both frivolous (gray hair) and serious (the team), and there are a few undercurrents to the conversation that they both let stay beneath the surface. She gives him some food for thought, and he adds it to the pile. Oh, and he solves his puzzle box.

It was nice and cool in the room.

Usually, being in the medlab always left her a little bit on edge. Just something in the back of her mind, reminding her of metal and confinement.

And pain.

She'd been doing this here often since Greece, usually in the dead of night though sometimes during the day, when all was quiet and still. It was barely noticeable at all this time, even now as she actually paid attention to it, sought it out. It was a variation on a meditation exercise Audrai had taught her - one which Charles had watched for a while after it was shown to him, and then quietly suggested a few changes, here and there. It meant seeking out that niggling discomfort, just now, and looking at it. Just that and nothing more, though to anyone looking at her, it simply meant seeing Alison sitting down on the ground, back leaned against the wall, patterns of light slowly carving through the air in bright blue patterns, sometimes edged in gold.

Nathan had been dozing - Hank and Moira had had him up and moving around in the wheelchair, and it had worn him right out - but the quietly composed presence in the room with him drew him back out of the doze after a while. He opened his eyes, still a little startled to not see the ceiling, and smiled a bit wearily at the familiar figure surrounded by patterns in light.

"You're glowing at me."

"Mmm." The patterns never wavered, still winding their way slowly to completion. After a few slow and steady breaths though, Alison opened her eyes slowly to look at him tranquilly. "I'm meditating." The wall, she realized, had warmed just a touch behind her back, not so cold as it had been before. Or maybe the coolness was just her imagination, a subtle expression of her unease at times? It didn't matter now. The wall wasn't so chilly anymore.

"You're smiling." And wasn't that a nice sight to see.

"Hey, I was out of the room. Never thought the medlab hall would look that good. Okay, so Hank had to push the wheelchair back in here..."

"Must be all the grey hair springing up. You've gone all salt and pepper. I betcha he's thinking you're old and frail and have to be handled like precious china." She paused, then considered something, head tilting to the side slowly. "Ha. That's how Charles gets away with not being coddled then. He decided to stick to bald and fooled Hank right out of fussing over him. Maybe you should do that too. It looks very dignified, you know." Deadpan. The whole meditation thing was wonderful to pull off saying things like that utterly deadpan.

Nathan blinked at her, then snorted. "I knew it," he said. "I just knew it. Moira's been thinking far too much about my gray hair... I'm going to be horribly shocked when I look in a mirror tomorrow, aren't I?" He shook his head a little, part of him rather gleefully still at being able to do that. "Between that and the amount of weight I've lost I must be a pretty damned pitiful sight. No wonder Hank's fussing."

"Unless you're bright and perky and cheerful and obviously doing mentally fine, Hank fusses. He'll fuss even if you're fine." She smiled a bit, the patterns slowly starting to wind their way to the end now. "Hank not fussing would be pretty much a sign of impending apocalypse or something. She eyed him a bit more sharply, considering. "You've lost weight and muscle tone, obviously. They've been making sure you don't lose too much with whatever therapy they could get away with, but you've still lost some." Then she smiled, just a bit, and the patterns started to fade. "You'll get it back. Well. The hair's gonna stay grey." The smile turned impish, and the near detachment turned to amusement. "Unless you want to dye it or something."

"I think I can restrain my vanity. Hell, if I keep the gray, maybe the kids will respect me more." He paused a bit, then grinned a bit ruefully. "Or, you know, not." He shifted a little on the bed, wincing. "I will get it back," he said, his tone changing a little. "Not really looking forward to the process of getting it back, but I'll get there."

"Pfff. Gray schmay. I'm not even going there - not a trace of grey in this gold, thank you very much." Alison looked smug at that, stretching her arms before running a hand through her hair. "Hrm." She looked entirely innocent as she eyed her fingertips, the perfectly manicured nails obviously drawing satisfaction. "Well. I could show you a little Tai Chi if you show me more of the Askani forms. Tai Chi is good for the back and all."

"I liked Tai Chi when I tried it last year." Nathan paused. "I'll ask Moira when we can start phasing that in. Although it might take a while before I can actually demonstrate any more of the Askani forms." He shifted again, and as he turned his head his gaze landed on the puzzle box, sitting there on the side table. A grin tugged at his lips before he could help it. "They had me working on that while they were running the last batch of tests."

Sneaking that in while he recovered had been a very good idea, she'd discovered. "Still haven't opened it, huh?" It was a bad thing to smirk about that. Very bad. She did it anyway, though there was hardly any sting to it. "We'll work things in slowly. It'll keep things from getting pushed too fast. And as for the Askani forms, well... I'm sure the peanut gallery won't mind throwing in a few comments now and then."

"They're giggling at you," Nathan said after a moment, chuckling softly. "For some reason the whole 'peanut gallery' image just tickles them terribly." He glanced again at the puzzle box, and it floated gently over to land in his lap. "I'm supposed to be phasing the TK back in slowly," he said, laying a hand on the box and concentrating. "Moira thinks that puzzles and the like would be a good way to do that."

"Therapeutic puzzle boxes. Made to last." She was poking fun at him oh so much, and didn't feel guilty about it in the least. "You know, you could also just type out your posts with your TK, while you're at it. Low level pinpoint practice and all."

"There's an idea." He relaxed against the pillows, breathing as deeply as he could. "I feel better," he said, and could have laughed again at the edge of surprise to the words. "I'm not sure if it's just being out of the traction rig, or what, but I feel more... steady." He rubbed at the polished wood of the puzzle box. "Not having the dreams like I was. Maybe that's helping."

"You needed time, s'all." Both mentally and physically, and the simple fact that he was physically improving and that it was now clear enough for him to see was bound to have that effect. She'd just hit full active training status again herself now, after being restrained to lighter training and duties since... that. Taking a shallow breath, she forced her mind away from the thought and the memory, practically feeling the surface of her thoughts not wavering once, not letting anything show. It felt eerie, as though witnessing a children's puppet theatre from afar. "And yeah, no traction rig can't be a bad thing."

"Can't wait to be back upstairs," Nathan murmured, still rubbing at the puzzle box. Patterns in the grain, even. The Askani had been keeping his mind occupied with more instruction in the patterns, the last several days. "It's like I'm waiting for my life to start again. Does that make any sense?"

"Oh. A bit." She remembered that feeling only too well, herself. Days and weeks of being locked up in the sound-proofed isolation room... "Just a bit." A small smile and she continued. "So will you be making sure the bed is facing a window?" The words were teasing, though there was a something hinting at the fact that she'd done that herself, not so long ago.

"You bet," he said wistfully. "Sunlight. Lots and lots of sunlight." Nathan looked up at her, studying her for a long moment. "Lots of thinking, too. Now that my head's clearer." He made a few adjustments to the puzzle box and felt something shift inside it. Still wasn't opening, though. "Charles keeps telling me to take as much time as I need to process. That there's no rush for anything."

"He does say that," Alison murmured, focusing on the box - not only because it was an easy thing to do, but also because of the sheer beauty Jamie's father had imparted to it. "Not the easiest thing to do when you're right in the middle of things, but it's something to hang on to." She pondered moving to the chair, but she was still comfortable, just as she was. "That and... other things. People."

Nathan's lips twitched in an oddly regretful smile. "Certain people," he corrected softly. "The ones it's safe to lean on."

She started to say something at that, and then paused before the first word was ever spoken aloud. Finally, she simply let her breath escape her slowly and nodded, just a bit. "Something like that, maybe." There was more to it than that - more to it than he knew - but it wasn't entirely off the target, either. She smiled, although there was both calm and acceptance there. "So long as there's leaning, that's what matters, mm?"

The hesitation nagged at him, but then, given what she'd had to do while he'd been lying there in medlab last weekend... Nathan closed his eyes for a moment, pushing it away. If she wanted to talk, or just to lean, he was here, and she knew that. "All that matters," he repeated, forcing himself to relax back against the pillows, unable to suppress a wince. "Painkillers are wearing off again. I must be reaching the two hour mark." He waggled an eyebrow at her, trying to make his voice wry and not quite managing it.

"I won't forget." She meant every word. And if there were things that would have to perhaps wait a while to be talked about, they still would be eventually. And everything else was fair game, which was as it should be. She didn't linger on the thoughts though, choosing to answer his expression with a single raised eyebrow, which managed to remain steadily arched. "Your eyebrow is still loopy, I can tell you that much." Saying silly things while remaining perfectly serious was such fun.

"It has a mind of its own." He laid there, watching her. "Did you doubt that you'd be back on the team, after what happened in November?" he asked finally, a bit hesitantly.

"After I finally believed that maybe I wasn't going to die after all, after I stopped hoping I might to it'd stop hurting, or after the pain finally got to be so second nature I could actually think again?" She hadn't even thought before she asked that, Alison realized, and she looked faintly abashed at that. "I did. I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to step out of a room without a sound dampener, for a long time too. Or without walking as though someone kept dipping my nerves in acid all the time. The people around me never gave up on me though."

"Stupid question, maybe," Nathan murmured a bit wryly. And maybe he hadn't wanted the answer; maybe he'd just wanted to ask the question. Have it out there that he was still doubting, or wondering, and see her reaction. He wondered what it said that he'd mentioned it to her, and hadn't said a word to Scott or Ororo whenever they'd visited him. Probably doesn't say anything that's not blatantly obvious. "Haroun would be laughing at me," he said with a sigh, after a long moment of silence.

"Not stupid. Gotta ask somehow." She shrugged a bit, without censure. "I think you'll make it. If you want it, you'll get there - you will, you know. And you'll get as much help as you want every step of the way, too. Probably more than you want at one point, at that." Now - whether he wanted it or not, was another matter entirely, even as it was inextricably linked to him getting back in shape for team status. "And well... Haroun might, or might not have laughed." Alison stared ahead for a moment, features softening. "He didn't laugh at me once the entire time. He just... didn't let me give up. And held me when I did." She wrinkled her nose at him. "Don't think he'll hold you, though."

"Thank you for that truly disturbing mental image." Nathan made another minute telekinetic adjustment to the puzzle box. "I don't think I doubt that I'll get there physically anymore. It's the other side of things." The corner of his mouth tugged upwards in what was not quite a smile. "The confidence. I hit the ground awfully hard this time."

"The mind needs healing just as the body does." She waited for the reproachful look that indicated he'd heard that from Charles just as well, thank you very much. "Hey, it does. I was afraid of people after things started to settle down and I could step out of my room. People, Nathan." The betrayal of that still lingering, easily discerned in her tone of voice and the emotions showing on her face. "How stupid was that?"

His eyes dropped back to the puzzle box. "I still want it, you know," he said quietly. "There wouldn't be any conflict if I didn't. If I was really willing to stop... retire, live the rest of my life quietly, whatever you want to call it." He made a small, helpless gesture with one hand. "And the Askani have been so quiet. They don't say anything except if it's meant to... comfort or distract me, I guess. I keep thinking they're leaving me the out. And I just..." He bit his lip. "'Shoulds'," he muttered. "'Shoulds', again. I can't ever get away from them."

I should have- Biting her lip, Alison shook her head sharply. "No one can, Nathan. Human condition. You acknowledge them sure, learn to set them aside, and then you do." She'd leaned forward a bit, unaware of it though, back still straight as she looked at him intently. "You go out and you do, and you don't linger on the should haves because you can't change them and lingering on them is just going to poison you - but you can learn from what happened and you can do and change everything else that's coming in the future, if you set your mind to it. You just have to pick and choose. And then... focus. But not so much that you make yourself blind to what still matters now in the process."

"Jack would be kicking my ass at the moment," Nathan muttered. "Or maybe not. I'm supposed to be thinking about these things." Something clicked in the puzzle box. He gave it a sharp look and tried to open it. "Aw, come on... now it's teasing me." He looked up at Alison with a mock-glower. "You gave me a sadistic puzzle box."

Jack, Alison decided, would probably be sitting there looking smug that Nathan was actually thinking about it all, really. While able to tease someone else in a way which wasn't about evading the topic or any questions. Particularly not since he'd brought matters up first. "Thinking about them is a start. And I gave you a sadistic puzzle box only because I care," she added, as an afterthought.

"I said something to Cain on the weekend," Nathan said, pushing experiment at a very odd pattern of - stone? that had to be stone, inside the box. "Well, I said a bunch of things to Cain. And he said a bunch of things. I think..." He trailed off, staring off into empty space for a moment, then looked up almost furtively at the ceiling. "Then I napped and dreamed that your glyph was doing odd things."

Innocent. That was the ticket. Innocent and without any second intentions at all. Positively angelic. Oooh, was that a chip in her nail polish? Alison contemplated the perfectly manucured nail idly. "Huh. Weird things, huh? What kind of weird things?" She was fairly proud of that glyph, actually.

"It was morphing into the glyph for life. Kind of a natural development, actually, if you..." He trailed off, giving her a suspicious look. "Huh," he said. "Well. Let's just say the glyph was trying to make a point, and I think it may have made it. I'm just notoriously thick-skulled."

A very agreeable nod greeted that statement. "Yep." She continued, clarifying her statement. "You could outstubborn a mule any old day. No sweat even. See, that's why I'm not even going to argue with that on the matter and just bow my head and say that you're absolutely... right." Hadn't giggled, nope sir. Not one bit.

"If I wasn't so fond of my puzzle box, I'd try pinging it off your head. Brat." Nathan paused a beat. "Then again, given how much strength I don't have in my arms today, I'd probably miss. And then you'd really get to laugh at me." He was smiling as he said it, though.

A very agreeable nod greeted that statement. "Yep." She continued. "You could outstubborn a mule any old day. No sweat even. See, that's why I'm not even going to argue with that on the matter and just bow my head and say that you're absolutely... right." Hadn't giggled, nope sir. Not one bit.

"If I wasn't so fond of my puzzle box, I'd try pinging it off your head. Brat." Nathan paused a beat. "Then again, given how much strength I don't have in my arms today, I'd probably miss. And then you'd really get to laugh at me." He was smiling as he said it, though.

She beamed at him. Literally. And then raised both hands to stick her thumbs near her ears, waggling her fingers at him. "Pbhhhhht!"

Nathan scoffed at her, then concentrated on the puzzle box again. Another click, and his eyes widened hopefully. "Well, something definitely moved, there..." He pushed on one pattern, pulled on another...

And it opened.

The making fun of Nathan sounds stopped at that, instantly followed by the sound sof someone indulging in mad 'get up and get the hell out of here now' type scramble. Only, even faster than that, because by the time Nathan looked up inquiringly, Alison was already clapping one han on the frame of the door to brace herself as she turned out into the hallway sharply, flashing him a bright grin in passing. "Gottagothiswasfunbynowenjoythepresentwheeee-" Her voice faded in the distance as she pelted down the hallway, still not slowing down in the least.

Okaaaaay. Nathan opened the lid, eager to see what was inside after all this work - and laughed. Aloud, and happily, for the first time in weeks.

Corks. A pair of corks, and a little note.

Something to help out the next time your brain starts leaking.

He shouldn't be laughing. But he was, despite the way his ribs were protesting, and Nathan slumped against the pillow, trying desperately to restrain the chuckles. Last thing he wanted was Moira coming running in thinking he'd cracked or something.

It said something, he thought with a mixture of helpless amusement and affection. It really said something. He wasn't sure what, but it did. Taking a deep, shaky breath, he examined the inside of the puzzle box carefully. Taking in every detail.