Monday afternoon, Jack Leary calls Moira...

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The sharp ring of the phone jerked Moira awake and she sat up, alarmed. "Nathan?" she muttered, not expecting to find the bed empty and she felt a surge of panic right as the phone rang again. Turning, she grabbed for the phone, knocking off books and her alarm clock in the process. "'ello?" she gasped, trying to rid herself of the rest of the sleepyness.

"Moira?" It was Jack's voice, concerned and rather tired-sounding himself. "I didn't think... did I wake you? It's Jack."

"God, Jack? Time...I'm sorry, been a 'ell o' a time, must 'ave overslept..."

He chuckled wearily. "Please don't apologize, Moira. I can only imagine. How are you doing?"

"I could say fine an' dandy but ye'd call me a liar an' we wouldnae want tha'." She shifted and gathered the blankets to herself, worried about Nathan.

"No..." A long, definitely awkward pause. "I called yesterday and spoke to Henry McCoy. He told me you weren't available. Made me very concerned about Nathan..."

"I...'ad ta 'elp Charles," Moira replied, not sure how much to tell him. "An'...Nathan..."

"Moira..." He sounded almost pained. "I don't know if Mr. Wisdom passed this along to you. But he got in touch with me Saturday night, asked me to check my office for a listening device..."

"...oh nay...God..."

"I am so... so very sorry, Moira," Jack said, his voice actually breaking. "I hadn't kept any notes - I don't even have a token file for Nathan. I never expected..."

"Nay yer fault," Moira whispered, trying not to cry. "I dinnae want anyone else blamin' themselves for this bloody mess except for those bastards who went after Nathan..."

"He's told me so much about these people. Mistra. I thought I had some idea of what they were capable of doing... but this is unspeakable."

"I...dinnae know if Nathan even know they would do this."

"How is he?"

"Pretty bad, Jack. We were supposed ta talk when I woke up an' 'e's nay 'ere."

At the other end of the phone, Jack sighed heavily. "I don't know how I'm going to tell him, Moira. About the listening device. Any feeling he may have had that he was safe with me..."

"Dinnae tell me I 'ave ta keep repeatin' tha' it 'twasnae yer fault?" she asked, closing her eyes. "Please, Jack, doin' enough o' tha' wit' Nathan currently."

"He blames himself for what happened." It wasn't a question.

"Aye, 'e does."

"Do you think he'd speak to me, if I came to the school?"

"I..." She sniffled a little. "I dinnae know. Seems 'e willnae talk ta me."

"At all?" Jack sounded honestly aghast.

Moira realized how that sounded. "We talk but...'e doesnae listen. Willnae *talk* ta me 'bout it, if tha' makes sense."

"How badly hurt was he?"

"Pretty badly. Concussed, shoulder dislocated, wrist broken, scrapes and bruises all over..."

"He could still be somewhat in shock, then. That might be part of the problem." Jack sighed again. "I really have to talk to him, Moira. If only to tell him about the listening device."

"Yer welcome by any time, ye know tha'."

"I'll clear some of my appointments for tomorrow, perhaps... I should let you go and rest some more, Moira," Jack said. "I'll be in touch soon. Please take care of yourself?"

"I'll try. Take care, Jack, see ye soon." Leaning over, Moira put the phone back in it's rightful place and then swung herself out of bed. Time to find Nathan.