Xaviers!

Miriam stops at the edge of the towering maze.

"I can hear you. I just... don't know where I am. You said mirrors? Those ones are the worst to search..."

"It's mine. But also not." Miriam mutters absentmindedly, her attention drifting away again. "I've seen it before, when my power first changed. Inbetween. A path is a path is a wall..."

"Just a little gap between minds but one of of vast emptiness and there's so much, I lost sight of where I am."

"Wait there's more than one of me wandering around in here!?"

"I'm seeing a lot of things. Hedgemaze... that's fewer than bloody mirrors at least..."

Miriam seems to aimlessly turn this way and that, eyes unfocused and glazed over. Until she suddenly squints hard and awkwardly stumbles back from the edge of the drawbridge, landing on her ass.

"Shit, fuck..." she mutters. "There I am. This is bloody non-sense. I still feel like I'm a million miles away..."

"There's... a bunch of mirror-themed places I can... see? Feel? There's one that's giant spires of mirrors and some kind of... horrible shard-strewn cavern and mazes and a lake that's perfectly still. There's only a couple of hedgemazes. There's... there's a lot of just... deserted places here."

"My perception is all messed up. It's..." she hesitates a moment. "A little like it was in Muir. In the beginning. Floating in all those thoughts with no anchor. I think most of me is there with you but I'm... seeing so many different places that my perception wanders to at a thought."

"There's that relentless optimism." she says though it lacks the biting sarcasm that'd normally accompany a comment like that. They might not be in Miriam's head proper but it's still well past her normal defenses.

"Aye well, we're going to try to ground you with the power of friendship so if this doesn't work you can gloat."

Sam squares off in front of Miriam and reaches for her hand.

Miriam's hand kind of misses Sam's a couple times before she manages to hold it but despite her attempted snark she's holding on pretty tightly.

"I'm... It's at least helping me not to lose track of myself." she mumbles almost awkwardly. "But until further notice I'm blaming this on you and Will. Your sprawling non-sense rubbing off on me or putting me on to the spaces that connect people or something similarly saccharine."

"I'd do something else to keep you focused on me, but I suspect the collective unconscious frowns upon snogging in the Akashic Records."

"Besides, I don't think I'd be interested in you if there wasn't already some nonsense about you," she smirks.

"We both know there's no way there isn't a pit of subconscious horny somewh--oh good lord! What is... no, nevermind, you were right, keep thoughts firmly on other things."

"Alright, I'm going to try to lead us back," she says, concentrating on her tether back to her body as she starts walking.

The path feels winding, almost circuitous at times but with a firm destination in mind this sprawling liminal space seems quite cooperative. It almost feels familiar, like something she's done every day since her power manifested. Feeling out and treading the connections between minds. It's just something that's almost instinctual and never examined in any depth. Leave it to Miriam to find a way to lose herself in the weeds of interpersonal links. And soon they find themselves back in the space where some of Sam's metaphors bleed through like ink on paper. It's not a train station but a canyon of English brick houses stacked nonsensically high like skyscrapers, overgrown by vegetation and thick roots that wind themselves out from the edge of the wild forest that is swallowing the buildings and create a derelict but oddly serene landscape.

"Small. Like I'm a million miles away. But I think I'm okay."

Then after a brief pause she squeezes Sam's hand and adds "Thank you, Sam."

"Are you asking me out on a date to the mysterious backrooms dimension?"

"Metaphorically. We're going to be back here, intentionally or not. Best figure it out together, aye?"

"Never one to let a hornet's nest go unpoked." she nettles but Sam can tell her heart's not in it. Even she has to admit that there's been too many times that the approach Sam, Will and hell the X-Men in general used worked better than her own of what... doubling down on bad decisions? Hoping for the best? Wallowing in her fate? She did help put Will back together, but by and large it was them dragging her out of tight spots. At what point do you admit they're not being sanctimonious but simply right? A while ago, she realizes.

The transition back into the real world is unceremonious. The metaphors fade and they wake from that half-sleep of deep telepathy. However, the walls of the room have been replaced with old, exposed and weathered brick and thick, gnarled roots and branches grow from the, enough to create a dense tangle of canopy above them and encircle the couch with shrubs and brambles.

"...looks like I've littered up your brain," she says with a quirked brow as she looks around.

"The common room, more like." she mutters, almost embarrassed. She takes a deep breath and actually holds out her hands, palms pointing at the walls. Slowly the wild woods begin to recede but as they withdraw from reality flowers sprout along the branches and roots.

"Aye well, you're welcome in those woods anytime, Miriam."

"No 'beasties' hunting me down?" she asks, the air-quotes clearly audible.

"Oh, like nothing's on the prowl in your head."

"Oh my demons are much more sophisticated." she shoots back, the contention banter giving her some solid emotional footing.

"Oh aye, your jungle has a cover charge and a two drink minimum," she teases.

"Some of us have civilized thoughts on occasion." she smirks.

"I don't know if I'm all that civilized, but I know I can hum a few bars to go on a date with you," she smirks back.

"As long as you don't expect me to roll around in the dirt until I have twigs in my hair. I owe you, but not that much."

"Oh, don't be silly. I don't roll around in the dirt."

"Someone usually throws me there," she smirks.

"That's worse. You do realize how that's worse, yes?" she says with amused indignation.

"I'm not saying it's for everyone. It's not even for me all the time."