Realizations

Who: Doc and Natalya
Where: The basement, Martens residence
When: 4 AM

Quite the night, Doc mused to himself as he left the kitchen behind, chewing the last of a slice of pizza and wiping a dollop of sauce from the corner of his mouth. In some sense, having a full house like this was a nice change of pace. It provoked change in his head, forcing a rearranging of the shape of his thoughts and giving him the chance to voice them as they formed. He glanced out the back door in passing, eyes settling on the silhouette of Kurt on the porch, lingering over one of the cigarettes Doc had left for him. Though he hadn't called on the man for much thusfar, Doc was glad to know Kurt, to have the connection with him that he did. He understood the German, and the other man did the same in kind; it was an insight he could only be grateful for.

And try to repay, he added mentally, easing open the reinforced basement door slowly to head downstairs. None of this had been easy for Kurt, Doc knew, but that was doubly true for Natalya. Doc didn't have to speak with her to know it; he could see it in Kurt's eyes, could read the lines of worry in the other man's face. How could it be, though? Until she'd met Kurt, she'd been ignorant of her own abilities, and likely content with the quiet life she had. Suddenly there were men from other times, demons they served, shadows seeking to rip her apart... it would overwhelm anyone. Doc was hoping that wouldn't be the case here, and as he moved down the steps near-soundlessly he let his gaze roam the basement in search of Natalya, wanting either evidence for that hope or a chance to shift the balance in it's favor.

Natalya was not doing well by any stretch of the imagination. She was holding herself together, but only barely. The attacks hadn't ceased with the new day; if anything, they'd gotten worse, and although Natalya was protected down in the basement, nothing could protect her from the atmosphere generated by the others she who shared it with her. She was determined to get through it the best she could; she could tell Kurt worried and it upset her even more, that he should worry about her when he was the one risking himself to guard the house. She didn't sleep when he was on duty, though she rarely slept much at night anymore. The night was quiet when everyone else slept, and she desperately needed that peace to keep herself together during the day.

She'd cleared a spot for herself in a back corner of the basement, back and side pressed against the walls. She felt like a plucked wire, vibrating with the echoes of tension and fear that lingered in the basement's atmosphere, and was seeking out a few minutes of quiet time to try and catch her breath. She drew her knees up to her chest with a grimace as the scratches on her hip and thigh pulled and wrapped her arms around her legs, leaning her head against the wall. Closing her eyes, she drew in a deep breath and held it a moment, then slowly let it out. Another followed, and another, while inside she struggled to capture all the stress she'd soaked up and tightly cap it.

They'd done what they could to make the basement as hospitable as possible, spreading out the training pads and bringing down blankets, but it could only do so much. At least there were some results; Doc spotted Eddie curled under a blanket, shivering in his sleep. He could guess why, but that knowledge would stay a secret. No, he stepped lightly over Eddie as he spotted Natalya, her breathing too focused to be asleep. Well aware of how he'd made the woman twitch once, Doc stopped before getting too close, drawing his legs under him to sit on the floor across from her. "Wish I could say it got easier," he murmured, all too aware of the stress wiring her.

Natalya would normally have appreciated his attempt to keep his distance, but she was so tightly wound that his voice, sudden in the quiet of the basement, was enough to send a slight twitch through her. Her head came up and her eyes opened, finding and focusing on Doc after a moment. "I did not expect that it would," she said quietly. She knew that Doc had felt an outburst before and, with that in mind, tried to get a tighter grip on herself, to make sure nothing slipped out. "I suppose you have done this before."

"This exactly? No, not really," Doc answered, shaking his head slightly. "As far as I can tell, no one has. But if you meant just parking it indoors, waiting for a break in things, yeah. Not in a long time though." He knew memory was a deceptive thing, but somehow he could dredge up a few good memories from times like these, the sorts that you only found when you had nowhere else to go and no one but the people you were trapped with. "It gets old, I know, but we're gonna make it. Everyone's sharp, everyone's doing what needs to be done." His eyes narrowed a bit, scrutinizing her for a long moment as Doc settled his hands in his lap. "How are you holding up?" he asked, waiting for the dismissive answer. Doc knew it would spook her to say as much, but he could read Natalya without any empathic gifts of his own. She'd been dropped deeper into a world that scared her just by existing, and he could remember just how overwhelming that had been for him once upon a time.

Natalya couldn't stop the flash of guilt she felt when he mentioned everyone doing what needed to be done. She was not a woman who was accustomed to nor welcomed idleness; it grated that she couldn't find something useful to do here. The other women were helping defend the house - they were both strong, capable, lovely. Natalya was good at making sandwiches. "I am fine, thank you," she said, managing a small smile to try and lend authenticity to that statement. "I just... wish there was something more I could do." Anything, actually.

"Glad you asked," Doc was quick to say, willing to ignore his urge to challenge her claim. No one was fine during this, even if they were all getting by. But the last time he'd tried so directly, she'd argued right back at him and he hadn't made an inch of progress. So... subtlety. "Seph normally does the cooking, when we cook," he explained in a low tone, smiling like she was his confidant. "I burn water, and Syn does better than me but not enough that she likes to cook. But Seph's been running some long hours with the others keeping watch, and I think everyone's getting sick of me burning frozen pizzas. So... help me keep everyone fed and hydrated," he offered, brow rising a bit as he waited on an answer. "Not asking for anything elaborate, just enough to keep us all that much more sane. A good meal goes a long way, after all."

"Of course," Natalya agreed immediately. She saw what he was doing, of course, but appreciated the roundabout way he approached it. And she was grateful to have something to do, even if it wasn't that big of a job. It would at least keep her busy for a little while each day - no offense to his hospitality, of course, but Natalya desperately hoped they wouldn't be stuck down here for very much longer. "If there are any foods you would prefer or are anyone's favorites, please let me know. If we have the means to make them, I would be happy to."

"I'm not a picky eater," Doc assured her, shaking his head, "But we've got plenty to work with in the kitchen. We'll take a look tomorrow morning and see what there is to work with, I think people will be happy to hear that there'll be actual food." He wasn't one for small talk, but knew when it was important. Still, even the little request had just about used up Doc's reserves for it. Real subtle, old man, he chided himself, sighing and fixing a more appraising stare at Natalya. "You trust me, right Natalya?" he asked with a thoughtful frown.

The question, and accompanying rather abrupt change in subject, took Natalya by surprise. She blinked at Doc, wondering how to phrase her answer without offending him, wondering where it was leading. "I do not think you would do anything to put me in danger or harm's way," she answered carefully. The truth was, she didn't think she trusted anyone save Kurt, and even then she still flinched whenever he snuck up behind her or moved towards her too quickly. Doc... Doc was very much of an unknown, for all that she thought he was a good man. "Why do you ask?"

"Because lately all I can do is talk to people," he explained abstractly, "And it's not always my preferred method of dealing, but since it's all I have I'm not going to waste it." He didn't like to cloud up the air, but touchy subjects were always handled better with a cigarette to focus on. Lighting up, Doc frowned in consideration of how to approach this, deciding once again to just tackle the thing head on. "You're good, y'know. Good at composure. If I hadn't been the reason you lost your cool once, if I didn't see it first hand, I'd honestly believe you when you said you were fine. And don't get me wrong, I'm impressed. With your ability and the short time you've had knowing it's there, you've come a long way at keeping it in check."

He inhaled slowly, listening to the crackle of burning tobacco and tapping ash free before going on. "You need to stop composing. Stop putting on the brave face. I know how useful it is, and I know it makes it easier to get through dark times, but it's not without a price. When creatures I've never seen come out of the mirrors and try to rip me apart? I'm not fine. And if I pretend I am, the people who care about me can't help, because I create a wall they think they shouldn't try to push past." It was a lot to hit her with at once, but Doc had already seen this behavior when he'd visited her home before with medicines for Kurt. "I know I still spook you, the things I know and the things I can do don't sit right. They shouldn't. They spook Kurt too, but he's like you there; he can hide it pretty well. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if you spook you at times, I know that's how it was for me."

The thoughtful frown faded to a small grin of nostalgia, an understanding look as Doc nodded and ground out his cigarette prematurely. "You're not the first to deal with this, you know. I remember how it was. I was sixteen, and suddenly I had this power, this gift I couldn't control, and these people who needed me to try and stare it down, to grab it by the reins. And I learned how to block out my panic, how to hold it until I was alone or drink it away... work myself to the point of exhaustion so I didn't have the energy or time to think and worry. I can tell you, first hand, it's not the answer. So I hope you trust me, because if you do then you'll believe me when I say that."

Natalya felt herself go cold when he mentioned her behavior, lips and fingertips numbing with something akin to shock as his insights just kept coming, hitting her where it hurt the most. She started shaking her head towards the end of his speech, shivers racing down her spine. She realized that she'd stopped breathing sometime towards the beginning of it and made herself start again, drawing in much-needed oxygen. "Please stop," she breathed quietly. It was frightening, how deeply he saw into her compared to how little he knew her. Or perhaps she wasn't as subtle as she'd hoped. "You don't understand," she continued quietly, because her cautious respect for the man who commanded such loyalty from Kurt demanded more of a response than her whispered plea. She took a breath and tried again.

"I do not know how to control this... this thing inside me. I can only keep hold of it the best way I know how. Because if I do not, it can affect those around me. It is dangerous, especially in this situation where you and Kurt and the others must focus on defending your home." She wrapped her arms tighter around her knees and fought back the sting of tears. "The others... they are able to cope with the attacks. I can do the same. This... this is what I learned, growing up. It was easier." Her father had taken pleasure from her pain, and so she'd learned to keep it hidden until she could safely express it. She didn't know any other way to be. She refused to be the weak link in the group. "There are more important things to worry about, right now."

"Easier doesn't mean better," Doc said softly, leaning forward a bit to study the way she curled in on herself, the physical show of a mental retreat. "I know that, because I do understand. When my life changed, people died. And what I could do was powerful, but raw. I couldn't control it either, couldn't direct it, I could only ignore it or give into it at first. Control takes time, patience, and trust. Trust is the key, trust in the people who are there regardless of what you can do..." He definitely felt sympathetic to her in that moment, but he'd cracked the shell of forced calm she had, and this seemed like a chance Doc might not see again for some time. "It's hard to believe, but there's nothing wrong with being afraid. Eddie over there? Was screaming his head off the day he and I got here. Fear's a natural response to the unknown, whether it's these things coming after us or the parts of yourself you don't understand yet. Hell, the man who taught me to control my gift told me that the only time someone can be genuinely brave is when they're afraid. And I'm not saying you have to face down your doubts now, or tonight, or even next week... but admit that this is a lot, that this changes every fundamental of your world. And not to me, I know already. Take a chance sometime, I think you might find out that guys like being able to support the women they care about." Had he overstepped here, assuming so much about Kurt and Natalya based only on his own observations? Maybe. Doc did that a lot, and wasn't likely to quit any time soon. "Sorry for upsetting you, too," he tacked on with a reassuring smile, tucking his half cigarette in his lips to chew on it.

He was asking her to do the near impossible, if not the impossible itself. She trusted Kurt - with her life, if necessary, and he'd saved it more than once. But did she - could she - trust herself with Kurt's safety? No, and she didn't know if she ever could. He'd already told her that he could sense her emotions, however faintly, and she knew that was her doing. What if it got so bad that she incapacitated or hindered him in a fight? She was terrified of the possibility. "This is the only way I know how to control it," she murmured, voice shaking. "I can't risk hurting him." She focused on Kurt, finding it easier to talk about him than herself. "He already has so much on his shoulders," she said, wiping her wet cheeks with the palms of her hands. Her wall was crumbling, like sand through her fingers that poured away the harder she tried to hold onto it. "He does not need any more burdens piled on." He was lost from his home, his time, everything he knew. She should be the one taking care of him, not the other way around.

His smile inverted, curling into a frown as Doc picked through her words. There was the root of all of this. "You think you're a burden," he stated instead of asking, fighting the urge to stop before she got more upset. "You think you'll be the one to make him fail?" Doc sighed quietly, shaking his head at it all. "Natalya... you can't choose for him, and right now that's what you're doing. You're deciding to bundle yourself up inside your own head so that you never run the risk of doing something wrong with your gift. And in doing that, you're taking away Kurt's choice to embrace every aspect of you, if he chooses to, or to lay down the limits he's comfortable with. I know about choosing for other people, I spent a long time doing exactly that, and I still trip myself up now and then. On a level of intent, I get the appeal; you'd rather deal with the stress and the feeling of loneliness, whether you're alone or not, than ever have the slightest chance of making things worse for others. But if you really trust him, if he has value to you, then you need to let him be the one to make that call." He couldn't keep at this though, too much more and he'd cross his own line and potentially force her into her own problems. "Just... think about something for me, okay? All of us are on our feet right now, and we got that way because we held each other up. You can stand alone, you can be there for others when they need you, but you need to give yourself the same chance you give everyone else. Don't be afraid to fall, I know he'll be there to catch you."

He really did seem as if he knew how she felt, which made his words impact her all the harder - though she noticed he didn't say she wasn't a burden. She felt tired suddenly, brittle, on the edge of losing complete control. That, more than anything, was something she didn't want to do in front of Kurt's employer and Eddie. "Thank you for speaking with me," she said finally, after a long moment of silence, not acknowledging his question about her impact on Kurt's failure. She stood, moving a little stiffly, her desire for solitude suddenly strengthening. "I will think about what you have said." Just not right now. "Will you excuse me?" she asked. "I think I will go and make some tea." Anything to get space to herself.

"Of course," Doc answered, making no move beyond a nod as Natalya stood up. He could've said much more than he had; could've told her he knew she was no burden on Kurt, but that would overstep the personal bounds Doc had set. Even on official tasks, he wasn't supposed to make the choice for people, he was only supposed to put them somewhere in their own thoughts that they could find the choice. And as much as he felt like he'd hurt and upset Natalya with his insights, he still held out hope that she just might find herself in that spot, ready to face her own doubts. She won't be alone when she does, Doc decided, staying put in the relative silence of the basement, She just needs to realize that.