She's lying in the bed, dreaming about home when she feels something tug at her. Pulling her out of her dream. It only lasts a second, but she sees him there. She's looking at him through eyes that don't feel like hers... but they are, all the same. She feels the intense rage and... fear? just before she bolts straight up in her own bed. She's covered in sweat and she's realizes she's clutching Scar. She flips the lightswitch on without moving and looks around the room, as if some remnant of the dream is still there. Once she feels sure that it was nothing more, she tentatively reaches into her mind... trying to find an answer. Instead, she finds him.
*I... Hello? Are... are you ok?* It's very quiet. Not just her, but everything. She can hear her pulse pounding in her ears.
Nathaniel was at the piano, when he felt the slightest tug on his mind.
Not very many people communicated with him telepathically. Rachel, of course, but he knew it wasn't her. Rachel clamored into his head like a freight train, for one, and Rachel wanted nothing to do with him, for another.
Isobel, sometimes, when they were in opposite sides of the house. She would ask him very politely if she could ask him a question. She seemed to use it like an intercom system, but it was more her sending the thought than actually using any sort of psychic link.
The psychic signature of this person was tentative. Young. Female. Worried.
Ah.
*Hello, Beatrice.* He must have awoken her. *I--my apologies. I was...ascertaining that you were safe.*
He didn't want to tell her about his dream. Apocalypse was gone. There was no need to worry the girl.
She breathed a small sigh of relief and then immediately became a little annoyed.
*I hope that's not what happens every time. You scared the hell out of me...* She was still quiet, but a little less so now that she knew he was there.
That worried him, a little. *I beg your pardon, Beatrice, but what exactly happened? I imagine I woke you up when I attempted to find you on the astral plane. Were you somehow negatively affected by this?*
He could tell she was annoyed at him. He waved that away. It was more important to know if she were somehow harmed.
*I... I don't know. It was weird. One minute I was dreaming about... about home. And then for like, a second, I was somewhere else. I could see you. But it was like... I wasn't me. I... that makes no sense...* She trailed off, rubbing her eyes and trying to figure out what happened.
Nathaniel was momentarily horrified, and hoped she did not see the part where he had Rachel beneath him and his hand around her throat. He shoved that thought away. Beatrice would possibly not understand the finer points of the things he and Rachel did.
Had done.
*I am fine. You inadvertently shared a moment of a nightmare I was having. I am not quite sure how that happened, in fact.*
*I...* That was a really good question. How HAD that happened? *I'm sorry. I... didn't mean to?* She was totally confused.
*But, I mean... you're ok, right? You don't like... want to talk about it or anything? I mean, I didn't really SEE anything. Just you. Like I said, it was really fast. I woke up right after I saw you...* She was rambling, but worrying did that to her.
*Of course you did not mean to, and I am fine. A bit disturbed I projected that bit of my nightmare at you--I shall have to check with Isobel in the morning, to make sure I did not disturb her rest as well. I shall endeavor not to do that again.*
He thought for a moment. "I had a dream you had become Apocalypse's horseman," he said, surprising himself by actually speaking of his dream. *There were other things, but that was the part that involved you.*
She felt fine until he went into detail. Then she realized why he's been so worried about HER.
*Oh. Oh! But... that's totally not going to happen! He's in space! I'm fine. And nobody's turning me into a Horseman. I promise. I wouldn't let somebody do that to you,* she sent him, resolute. She'd rather die than be used against him. That was something she already knew.
*Yes, well, I had rather figured that,* Nathaniel said, a bit amused. *I shall have to say, with the man who sired you and me around, I do not think Apocalypse shall ever sway you. No matter how attractive his offers sound at the time.*
He expelled a breath, and starting playing the piano. *All is well, and I am sorry for waking you.* He just wouldn't sleep again, until he could assure there would be no more projecting his nightmares to people he--
cared about.
His fingers moved over the keys. Nathaniel began to relax as he played. *Do go back to sleep, my dear.*
*It's ok... um... do you mind if I listen for a while? I mean, you were playing the piano, right? Is that ok? I just... maybe it'll help me go back to sleep. Or does it not work like that or something?*
She really wasn't sure. She just knew it was going to take more than laying in her bed in the dark all by herself to get her back to sleep.
A few weeks ago, Nathaniel had done the same thing for Rachel. Played for her, when she couldn't sleep. And he was suddenly very angry at her, for refusing to give him the courtesy of a proper goodbye.
But this was not the time to be angry. Nathaniel shoved those thoughts away, shielding them from Beatrice with the ease of long experience. *Of course you may listen.*
He played Brahams again. Liszt was too furious, too angry, to soothe anyone. Chopin, in his mind, belonged to Rachel. He had played Chopin the entire night after he received her email. Brahams, he had played for Beatrice before. So he played it now, to lull her to sleep.
*I... Hello? Are... are you ok?* It's very quiet. Not just her, but everything. She can hear her pulse pounding in her ears.
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Not very many people communicated with him telepathically. Rachel, of course, but he knew it wasn't her. Rachel clamored into his head like a freight train, for one, and Rachel wanted nothing to do with him, for another.
Isobel, sometimes, when they were in opposite sides of the house. She would ask him very politely if she could ask him a question. She seemed to use it like an intercom system, but it was more her sending the thought than actually using any sort of psychic link.
The psychic signature of this person was tentative. Young. Female. Worried.
Ah.
*Hello, Beatrice.* He must have awoken her. *I--my apologies. I was...ascertaining that you were safe.*
He didn't want to tell her about his dream. Apocalypse was gone. There was no need to worry the girl.
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*I hope that's not what happens every time. You scared the hell out of me...* She was still quiet, but a little less so now that she knew he was there.
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He could tell she was annoyed at him. He waved that away. It was more important to know if she were somehow harmed.
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*I'm just glad you're ok,*
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Nathaniel was momentarily horrified, and hoped she did not see the part where he had Rachel beneath him and his hand around her throat. He shoved that thought away. Beatrice would possibly not understand the finer points of the things he and Rachel did.
Had done.
*I am fine. You inadvertently shared a moment of a nightmare I was having. I am not quite sure how that happened, in fact.*
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*But, I mean... you're ok, right? You don't like... want to talk about it or anything? I mean, I didn't really SEE anything. Just you. Like I said, it was really fast. I woke up right after I saw you...* She was rambling, but worrying did that to her.
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He thought for a moment. "I had a dream you had become Apocalypse's horseman," he said, surprising himself by actually speaking of his dream. *There were other things, but that was the part that involved you.*
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*Oh. Oh! But... that's totally not going to happen! He's in space! I'm fine. And nobody's turning me into a Horseman. I promise. I wouldn't let somebody do that to you,* she sent him, resolute. She'd rather die than be used against him. That was something she already knew.
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He expelled a breath, and starting playing the piano. *All is well, and I am sorry for waking you.* He just wouldn't sleep again, until he could assure there would be no more projecting his nightmares to people he--
cared about.
His fingers moved over the keys. Nathaniel began to relax as he played. *Do go back to sleep, my dear.*
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She really wasn't sure. She just knew it was going to take more than laying in her bed in the dark all by herself to get her back to sleep.
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But this was not the time to be angry. Nathaniel shoved those thoughts away, shielding them from Beatrice with the ease of long experience. *Of course you may listen.*
He played Brahams again. Liszt was too furious, too angry, to soothe anyone. Chopin, in his mind, belonged to Rachel. He had played Chopin the entire night after he received her email. Brahams, he had played for Beatrice before. So he played it now, to lull her to sleep.
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