Elijah
[nightmares]
Dice: 4 d10 TN7 (4, 5, 5, 6) ( fail )
Ian
The
summer weather was cooling off, and by the time Ian got out to the
Chantry on Thursday evening the temperature had dropped down to a
comparatively brisk 61 degrees. It was raining lightly in Morrison, and
drops of water beaded up on the surface of Ian's car, pattering lightly
against the roof and windshield. Ian sat quietly in the driver's seat
and looked out at the empty house.
After a few minutes he
opened the door and got out. It was already past sundown and the sky was
dark with cloud-cover. When Ian looked up, he could see muted
pin-points here and there where stars glimmered beyond the surface of
the atmosphere. He closed his eyes and let the raindrops fall. They left
a pattern of dots on his t-shirt and traced wet, lazy trails down his
skin.
He'd asked Elijah to meet him here. Ostensibly so that
they could talk somewhere safe. Ian's voice had sounded calm on the
phone, but there was something about the way he said we need to talk
that might have set off alarm bells for Elijah. Because Ian wasn't
really the sort of person who said those words lightly, or often.
But Elijah said he was on his way, so Ian waited. And he listened to the sound of the rain falling on leaves.
Elijah
When
he got there, he was wet. Of course he would be wet, Elijah drove a
motorcycle, and Jenn had the civic for today since she was going to be
across town hauling equipment from place to place. Arguably, Elijah
needed to acquire a car at some point. Perhaps the money he was getting
from his family was supposed to be for a car instead of an apartment
with a girl who couldn't pay rent. We digress.
He took off his helmet, knowing that something was amiss. Ian didn't seem the type to say we need to talk.
Elijah
knew what it meant when people said they needed to talk. It was never
anything good. It was never anything that he could walk away from
comfortably. Water rolled off his jacket, and the young man shook
himself out before climbing up the porch. He was a soggy mess, but he
was a living soggy mess, and that was what mattered. "So, we need to
talk," was the herald to his dampened arrival.
Ian
"Yeah, let's go inside."
Ian
was wet too at that point, though not nearly as wet as Elijah. He made
his way up the porch steps and waited for Elijah to let them inside,
running a hand through his damp hair. There was a glance (brief,
surveying) behind them as Elijah opened the door. Something automatic. A
lingering habit from a time and a place that was here and yet not here.
Like he half-expected to see a couple of walking corpses heading
towards them through the grass.
It would probably be a long
time before Ian could come to this place and not feel the lingering
weight of those memories. But the lights in the house worked, and the
roof was intact, and tonight the dead did not come out to haunt them.
"Did Kalen ever talk to you about the Technocracy?"
Elijah
Elijah
opened the door and came in like he had numerous times before. There
was a tension in the air, something he was expecting to snap. Something
that made him anxious. The presence of water on his skin and soaked into
his hair and his shirt made Elijah painfully aware of how awake he was,
made the air in his lungs feel like it wasn't quite adequate to keep
him afloat. Something that made him feel cold inside.
He hung
his jacket up at the door, retrieved a pocket watch from the inside
pocket of his jacket and held it idly while Ian asked his question.
"Kalen
and I did talk about the technocracy. He said that, on top of dealing
with us, they dealt with things that were less-than-good for the rest of
humanity, which sometimes does include members of the awakened
community. He also said that there was a war and that we lost that war,"
Elijah paraphrased. There was an abundance of things that were said in
that conversation, pleas made because he had not wanted to lose Alicia,
unaware at the time that his own actions would have caused a rift
between them that he had no idea if he could repair. He exhaled.
"What happened on ginger wasn't a fault of Kalen not telling me something, it was me being stupid."
Ian
"If he talked to you about them, then he should have told you what they're capable of. So yeah, that was
stupid." The clip of Ian's voice sounded slightly edged. "You put
yourself and everyone you know in danger. There are safer ways to get
that kind of information, if you really needed it."
Ian walked
into the living room, making his way down the stairs into the spacious
addition. Outside the glass walls, the countryside looked sleepy and
peaceful, and the rhythmic pattering of the rain had a kind of
meditative quality.
"This isn't a game, Elijah. People die doing this kind of thing. I've known
people who've died doing this kind of thing." Ian turned and regarded
Elijah for a moment, then sat down on the end of the larger of the two
sofas. He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, following
Elijah with his eyes.
Elijah
[Per+aware, what do you want me to say?, -1]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 7, 7, 7, 9) ( success x 4 )
Ian
[Subterfuge, because he's actually trying to be pretty contained right now]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 4, 6, 7, 8, 8, 9, 10) ( success x 6 ) Re-rolls: 1
Elijah
"I didn't do
it, because I wanted to fuck around, I did it-" he almost snapped, but
the young man seemed to realize what he was doing, realized his
defensive tone and how he had no reason to be defensive.
"It
doesn't matter why I did it," he said. He sighed, found a place to pin
with tired eyes on the floor because he didn't want to look at Ian at
that particular juncture. Instead, he could weather the storm, take it
for what it was and feel the full restraint. "If there's one thing I've
learned it's that my intentions don't matter as much as my actions, and
my actions were the kind of thing that might end up getting someone
hurt. I should have thought further ahead."
They already had,
but he didn't know that yet. He had no idea what he'd done to Alicia by
being just a tad too over-zealous. His attention swung back to Ian.
Elijah was still. He didn't pace and he didn't fidget. It was odd; the
gesture didn't suit him.
"I… I don't know what you want me to say- I can't take any of it back now."
Ian
"I'm
not telling you this to be a dick, Elijah. I just need to make sure you
understand. I'm sure I'm not the first person to talk to you about it. I
saw all the shit that got posted on Ginger. But I don't know what the
hell everyone else is telling you, and if you're at risk from the
Technocracy then so am I. We've been in pretty fucking close proximity
lately."
(As though Elijah needed the reminder.)
Ian
exhaled and rubbed the back of his neck. "If you want to make it past
twenty one, you need to learn how and when to pick your fights. I get
it, this is fucking terrible. But you're not helping, and you're not going to help. You're just going to get yourself killed. I don't understand how you didn't realize that, if you knew the risks."
Elijah
"Because it didn't seem real,
it seemed like stories. It seemed like… like people were just being
scared because of smoke and mirrors and I didn't realize that it wasn't
and now I can't take any of it back. I didn't realize that this shit is
scary until everyone's freaking panicking and I have to split my time
living out of a freaking backpack staying at a rectory or with some law
professor-" he ran his hands through his hair, and with that Elijah
started to pace. It was a circuit, back and forth, stopping at a door
frame and then stopping elsewhere again.
"And I don't even know what the fuck to tell Jenn now, Ian, she doesn't know about any of this. I know you're not being a dick, but you're probably the first person who isn't fucking looming over me the whole time," he stopped at his perch, leaning against the door frame.
"I wasn't thinking."
Ian
Did Ian remember what it was like to be that young?
He
watched Elijah pace restlessly, tracking the movements with his eyes.
And for a while, he was quiet. Then he stood up and approached, reaching
out to rest a hand on Elijah's arm. The contact was light
(unrestrictive,) and if Elijah wanted to avoid it he could. But the
gesture had a clear meaning: stop.
"I'm going to give
you a piece of advice, and you can ignore it if you want, but I hope
you don't. The only person in this world who is going to keep you alive
is you. So do yourself a favor and grow up."
Harsh words,
maybe. But if Elijah allowed it, Ian followed them up by wrapping his
arms around Elijah's shoulders and holding him in this firm, quiet
embrace. He pressed his face into Elijah's damp hair and exhaled a gust
of warm breath.
Elijah
He stopped moving, and
there was something wrong about the lack of movement, there was
something uneasy about his stillness and his attention steered towards
Ian. He wasn't one for crying, he was scared enough though. Distraught.
restless, because restlessness was as much a part of him as it was the
breath in his lungs. What was it like to be that young? Did people
remember? There was a sort of developmental gap, a sense of reasoning
that he literally could not tap into just yet.
The only person
who is going to keep Elijah alive? Was Elijah. Nobody else. The words
might have been harsh but the intent was clear enough, he needed to take
care of himself. He needed to think that far ahead in order to actually make it to the point where he is going to be capable of those leaps of reason.
Elijah
doesn't say anything, instead he takes in the sensation for what it
was, wrapped his arms around Ian because he was never one to shy away
from physical contact. "Things will work out," he tries to assure Ian.
Tries to assure himself, more than anything, "things will work out
because I'm going to make sure I don't… yeah."
Ian
Ian
didn't respond to Elijah's reassurances. Instead he counted the drum of
Elijah's heart against his ribcage. Then he dropped his arms slowly and
stepped away. His skin was beginning to feel cold underneath the
dampened fabric of his t-shirt.
"I'm sorry about Jenn." After a beat he asked, "Why aren't you staying with Kalen?"
Elijah
Why wasn't he staying with Kalen?
"It's
complicated," he said, "I… I'm not sure if I can study with Kalen
anymore, I don't think him being my mentor is the best thing for him."
Like pushing on a bruise. Like walking into a punch.
Ian
[I pretty much fail at cheering people up, so can I tell what you need from me right now?]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (3, 3, 5, 5, 7, 8) ( success x 2 )
Ian
Ian sighed. "I doubt he sees it that way."
But
he left it there, because this was a matter between Kalen and Elijah,
and Ian had little of use that he could really offer in that regard.
There was a long pause (verging on awkward,) as Ian regarded Elijah
silently. Then he tilted his head toward the love-seat by the fireplace.
"You look cold. I'm going to start a fire."
There
was such an air of familiarity to the action. Assembling the logs and
the kindling; lighting the match. He'd gotten good at building fires
after all those weeks without electricity, and it didn't take long
before a small blaze was crackling away in the hearth. Ian blew on it
gently, feeling the warmth of the flames radiate against his cheeks.
Already the dampness was beginning to evaporate from his hair and
clothes.
When he was done, he sat down on the love-seat and
kicked off his shoes, drawing his legs up to rest his heels on the edge
of the cushion. He shifted back against the arm-rest and looked at
Elijah, perhaps waiting to see if he'd initiate contact of his own
accord. If not, Ian tipped his head and gestured for him to come closer.
Elijah
He
left it there, wincing at the prospect. Because it was a matter between
himself and Kalen, he didn't know what to do with that. He didn't know
what to do, what to think, how to handle what was going to happen
between them.
He looks cold. Elijah nodded in agreement,
because he was cold. The young man half shivered, half shuddered at the
prospect of staying cold. He didn't much care for being wet or cold or
anything of the sort. He wasn't a fan of the water, of the reminder of
what came with it. Elijah took a seat on the couch, though kicking off
his shoes took a little longer than something without laces.
He
scooted a little closer to Ian, and he leaned against Ian's frame if
left to his own devices. He had little concept of personal space, and
was more than content to make contact. He craved it, sought it because
he needed contact. Because he needed something grounding and at that
moment, Ian Lai was grounding.
"I guess you go camping a lot," he said, observing the ease at which Ian could start a fire
Ian
Ian
actually laughed a little at that, and it was a strange laugh. The kind
of inappropriate response that tended to come from bitterness and
exhaustion. "Not exactly."
Elijah leaned into him, and Ian
made room for Elijah to slide between his legs and lean back against his
chest. The position was intimate - more familiar than they'd really
ever been. Ian wrapped his arms around Elijah's torso and held him there
quietly, letting the warmth from their body heat combine with the
flames to ease the cold from Elijah's damp skin.
"This is
where we stayed, when we were in Bastion. But there wasn't any power, so
we had a fire going most of the time." Ian's voice dropped softly when
he added, "Kalen and Sid... they didn't seem terribly inclined towards
staying alive either."
Elijah
[Elijah, don't say that! Willpower]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (3, 4, 8, 9) ( success x 2 )
Elijah
"Kalen
told me that it was horrible there," he admitted. Elijah settled in
against his chest, and perhaps the posture was more intimate than they
had been before. Elijah had little problems with physical intimacy,
though at that juncture it was arguably more familiar than they had been
in an emotional sense.
The time ticket on, and there was a
hitch in his breathing. He opened his mouth to say something, but soon
enough found that words did not come easily and what he was going to say
felt strange and almost uncomfortable in his mouth. Like a bitter
taste. Instead, he laughed, though something tinged that laughter.
"That sounds about like Kalen… I guess we seem to have that in common."
Ian
There
was a shift in the relaxed posture of Ian's muscles. Something
invisible, but Elijah would feel it against his back: a knotting tension
that started in Ian's stomach and spread across his chest. Ian's
fingers curled into Elijah's shirt, balling the fabric in his hand (as
though to hold him there.)
A log popped in the fireplace. Outside, the rain grew heavier.
Elijah
[are we close enough for me to say this? Per+aware, diff 8 (I can't see you), -1]
Dice: 6 d10 TN8 (3, 4, 6, 6, 7, 7) ( fail )
Elijah
"It's
not like that now," he said, sighed and tried to assure him but he knew
better. He knew that he didn't want to lie to Ian, even if it wasn't
necessarily a lie. He felt the tension, put his hand over Ian's and he
nestled in and pushed back against his chest. Elijah clearly lacked a
self-preservation instinct, and one that he needed desperately because
he was starting to encounter moments where he might not come back.
Did he think himself indestructible? Did he think himself immortal, as young men often do.
"It's
just… For a long time, I thought I had genuinely lost my shit after I'd
awakened. I mean… I've always heard things but-once I awakened I heard
things that didn't make sense and-" he's all over the place. It's hard
for him to put his thoughts together and his words seem disjointed and…
he stopped. there was a hitch in his voice, "anyway, I had to go away
for awhile… It was bad. I thought going to the hospital would fix things
but… there wasn't anything there. I didn't feel anything, no joy no
wonder no anything except this feeling like… anyway. True story, don't
take medications for disorders you don't have. "
Ian
Elijah
talked, and Ian didn't say anything for a long time. His body was
still, but the tension remained. The muscles around his jaw felt thick
and heavy, and when he finally did speak, he had to presage it with a
little sound (muted at the base of his throat) as though to remind
himself that he still had a voice.
"I'm sorry that happened to you."
It
could have sounded like a platitude. The kind of thing that people said
by default because they didn't know what else to say in response to
someone else's trauma. But Ian's voice was heavy and a little shaken,
not bland or distant. He was engaged, for all his silence.
"It was different for me, but I did a lot of self-destructive shit when I was in high school. So I get it. Being in that place."
Elijah
He
talked, and for a second there was a different kind of tension in his
body, a stillness again that did not suit him. Something that made his
breathing a little more shallow. He listened to Ian, felt the
differences in his body and laid his hand carefully (carelessly, because
how dare he be so familiar with Ian) over the top of his. Elijah's
thumb traced Ian's. Perhaps too intimate. Perhaps Elijah didn't care.
"I want to ask why," he started, "but if it's too fresh you can forget I said anything."
Because
if Ian wanted to tell Elijah he would say something. But sometimes,
what it takes to know if there is a problem is to ask someone what the
matter was.
Ian
"My parents and my sister died in a car accident when I was sixteen."
Saying
that much, strangely, was the easy part. And when he said it, Ian's
voice went cold and detached. It was almost a relief, that detachment
(like being in a familiar place.) He could have chosen not to give
Elijah an answer. Under many other circumstances, he probably wouldn't
have. That he did so now was less an indication of trust than it was an
understanding of the realities of human curiosity.
If he didn't answer, Elijah would wonder. It would become a thing. Sometimes the weight of unspoken questions could be more unbearable than the answers.
Ian
uncurled his fingers from Elijah's shirt and let his arms fall slack.
He didn't make any effort to push Elijah further away, but he looked at
the fire (at the way the flames danced and flickered) and the light's
reflection painted a glassy sheen over his eyes.
Elijah
"I
shouldn't have said anything," Elijah replied quietly. There wasn't
much to his voice at that moment, something that was quiet and something
that was invested in the world around him, yes, but he sounded young at
that point. He was a perceptive sort, could feel the air grow cold and
he could feel the differences in tension. He could feel the lack of
presence and that was telling enough.
Ian didn't have to push.
"I can't imagine what that is like," genuine, that. Like he did not want to be anything other than genuine.
Ian
There was no good answer to that, so Ian remained silent.
Eventually,
he gave Elijah a small push to indicate that he wanted to stand up.
When Elijah shifted out of the way, Ian got to his feet. He bent down to
place another log on the fire.
"I need to get into the library. Can you let me in?"
Elijah
"Yeah, okay, I can do that."
He needed to go to the library, and he needed someone to let him in. Elijah nodded, and with little fanfare took to his feet again. He didn't mention what they had just discussed, didn't mention what just happened or the shift in tone. No, he left it for what it was. Kept it there, and silently, the young man continued off to show Ian where the library was, like he really had to, and to let him in.
Elijah would have stayed in the library, not to keep an eye on Ian, but rather, because he liked libraries. He was content to keep his mouth shut. He was content to just read with another human being in the room. That would be good enough for Elijah.
