apassingafternoon | between two points

between two points

The journey was largely uneventful.

They passed some angry yaks and Kaine's 'skirt' fell off and she squealed before she fumbled it back on but that was about the extent of things. It took the entire afternoon and the sun had long fallen by the time her home/little compound made itself known, even against the mountains. Just as she had thought the lights were on inside and her animals made their familiar, happy shuffling noises. Shivering, Kaine didn't bother to explain a damn thing just yet, no matter how many questions might linger on Alain and Cuthbert's tongues. She undid the strings to her gate to let them in and then quickly closed and retied it from the other side to help keep the wolves out.

As they traveled up the little stone path to her door Kaine could smell dinner and suddenly she knew with frightening clarity that Roland and Nariko hadn't gone anywhere. Maybe into town but returning to Roland's world wasn't currently on their mind. That didn't bother her but she knew it would only further aggravate Bert who was already in a shit mood and poor Alain who was in pain and shouldn't have been traveling at all.

Kaine opened her door and sighed even as she heard a gun unholstering and knew from its soft whistle that it was Nariko's.

"You're not shooting me in my own fucking house," Kaine said, raising a brow at her best friend. Her ex-lover. "... How did you even find a dress that tight?"

Because it was certainly that, a rich blue and figure hugging, paired well with her dark hair left down, too genuinely Nariko-ish for Kaine to believe this was some odd dream she was still having in the corners of her brain. They were here and Nariko was alive. Roland was alive. Kaine couldn't see the telltale ring on either of them. That crazy bitch-god had kept her word and brought her back, let Roland go find her. Kaine had never believed in anything but even though her expression remained deadpan she suddenly wanted to praise any God that might listen to her.

"Wei." Nariko answered but her voice was thin and uncomprehending. "Why are you - how?" Her eyes darted to Alain and Cuthbert as if unable to fully understand their existence, Kaine could clearly see her friend trying to puzzle out what the hell was going on but she gave up halfway through. Her gun went back to the table and Kaine gave up before she started and let herself be pulled back into those familiar, warm arms, the protective grip.

"I'm home." She didn't know if anyone heard it, didn't really care. Shit was going to hit her own fan, but Kaine earned these few seconds.

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Roland half-smiled, a thin, bitter thing that was little more than a twitch. He didn't think her cooking was that terrible. She was certainly no chef, but he'd eaten far worse on the trail and been grateful for it; he wasn't about to complain. But she was right, it was anticlimactic, and felt discordantly everyday. Then again, he knew as well as anyone that life didn't stop just because you were hurting. So he nodded, getting to his feet to head into the kitchen.

"If I go after him, he'll blacken my eye and refuse to listen," he said, with some certainty. "He's left because he's afraid of what he'll do if he stays. When he's regained himself, he'll come back. Until then..." He shrugged. "He has his guns and his training, and by the looks of things, he's not injured. I wouldn't worry overmuch." As if there wasn't that nagging fear at the back of his mind that ka might have another twist in the tale.

If there was anything that could help her it was far beyond Kaine's reasoning. But there was nothing she was wrong about. They were speaking two conversations, halves missing from each. She turned her hand up to squeeze his in return before working up a smile. "I hope for all your sake's that it's true." Because Kaine had never experienced an ache, only the constant absence of a piece of herself.

But now she had permission to reach around and wrap Alain up in a hug, holding him for a good, decent amount of time. Hugs were a mutual affection that never seemed to do any harm, and for as much as she meant to comfort him and give him a little refuge it couldn't be said that she didn't get something out of it, too.

"You say that, and yet ..." It was only right that Roland still be concerned. Of course Bert was perfectly able to take care of himself but that didn't stop anyone from worrying. With a gentle roll of her eyes Nariko joined him and found the ... Well, she called them heat mittens, but whatever they actually were she used them to get the chicken out. "Oh, dammit, it's kind of burned." Yes, discordantly everyday was the best way to put it.

"He's less likely to punch the girl that's in love with him. If he isn't back by the time we go to bed, I'll ask her to at least find out where he is. I'll sleep easier that way." And they could pretend Roland wouldn't mind one way or the other if that was easier.

Roland didn't answer, at least not with words; he replied with a curt little nod instead, standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. When he did speak, it was only to say "Is there enough of that for the three of them to eat too, or should we put something else on to cook besides? In my experience, almost dying can be hungry work."

Alain was undeniably a good hugger. He pulled her in close, resting his face against her shoulder, and rubbed her shoulders lightly, his eyes closing for a moment.

"He would have died for you today, and thought nothing of it," he said after a moment, in a low voice near her ear. "Remember that, for he's like to forget it. On purpose, if I know him." Pulling away, he gave her a tight, watery little smile. "You mentioned tea? And I hate to ask, but have you anything in this place to stop me dreaming?"

Yes, Alain was an excellent hugger and she could have remained in his arms for the next few hours, an idea that hardly bothered her, and she would think on that much later. Right now it was a good thought, a relaxing one, there was something to be said about mutual comfort. For as tempting as it was, though, she could only intrude on Alain for so long (in other words, Kaine was still as shy as ever), and there were leftover tasks to consider.

"Cinnamon tea, to be exact. And something to keep the dreams away, yes. I won't give you anything I haven't used myself." That went for the pills, as well, and though there was clearly a degree of trust between them by default she would understand if he was still suspicious. Considering how foreign this world was, that was the right way to be about it friends or not. Kaine took a step back to go, half turned, but then paused, looking back at him with a mixture of caution and mild embarrassment. "I can stay with you until you fall asleep. If it pleases you." And while the irony of picking up the language just a tad wasn't lost on her, Kaine meant it quite literally. She only meant being near, because there was a lot to say about that, too. "… You're always paying attention to everyone else, Alain. It's possible to let someone else do the same for you."

Because he was too kind to have gone through all of this, to withstand Bert's anger on top of Roland's grief. Kaine would ultimately shoulder Nariko self-destructive tendencies, but right now, in this little pocket of time there was an opportunity to look out for him. It just seemed terrible to waste that.

Edited (this is basically a new tag tbh) 2015-03-04 05:46 (UTC)

Nariko found a fork and poked their dinner a bit, still pouting with all the maturity of an eight-year-old. It was supposed to be baked chicken over rice and some of the vegetables she had bought. It … Sort of looked like that? "There's enough. I'll make them plates but I don't think Alain will be coming down to join us again." As he well shouldn't, but on the off chance it would be here for him. Right now she focused on feeding herself and Roland in a silence that wasn't entirely peaceful on her end. Still, she kept her mouth shut until both places ended up on the table and she gave him a look. A you need to eat and I will sit on you and shove it down your throat if need be look.

It might have been better than what followed, for as repetitive as it happened to be. "When we go back," When they made it home. When they didn't get to, as Bert put it, 'cozy up and fuck around' anymore: "I have to deal with the rest of my family. With Farim." If there was something to be done at Gilead, bodies buried, goodbyes said, things gathered? That was fine. Of course she would be there for him, for all of them. But there was no 'can I' or 'can you manage to not over worry while I go deal with the remains of a suddenly extinct lineage?'. "Even if Kaine's right and they're all dead, they deserve at least this much."

Edited 2015-03-04 05:53 (UTC)

Roland nodded, sitting down at the table with his eyes on her. "Of course they do," he agreed, sounding, if anything, rather surprised that she thought it was necessary to say so. "I'll be at your back, if you wish it. If not, you need only say."

As for himself, the thought had occurred to him that he might have to return to Gilead. And he had immediately set it aside. Working for a year, the three of them might perhaps manage to bury all their dead and collect all they needed; that would be a year wasted on a dead place and a dead past. If they did return, it would only be to try and collect the Grapefruit.

Alain's smile was something heartbreaking to see. He looked, just for a moment, as if he might cry. Instead, unbuckling his gunbelts and setting them aside, he only said quietly, "I'm not uncared-for. But if you'd stay with me..." He shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'd be glad of it."

Because the alternative was to be alone, and just at the moment, that was the last thing Alain wanted. Bert and Roland might deal best with their grief in silence and loneliness, but Alain was of different stock, and if he was left alone too long, he feared it would consume him. He wouldn't have asked her to stay if she hadn't offered. But there was a deep, powerful relief in him, that she had.

Was it really so surprising? Really? Of course what was far more important here was that no past mistakes would be repeated. "I think, considering how dangerously tempted I am to take up drinking for the next decade assuming the former is probably the best course of action." And maybe that should not have been said with her usual cheerfulness, but oh well. It was true. She felt as much guilt as she did anger, and that was a combination that couldn't be repressed for too long.

"What's really sick about it ..." She poked at her food, trying to pin herself with the same hardheaded dedication she had given to Roland. Food was necessary even if it felt as if she couldn't really keep any of it down. "Is that I actually feel better." Quickly, she waved a hand just to make sure there was no misunderstanding here: "Not Gilead, I mean everything else."

"Alright, in that case just give me a moment." For as much as she didn't want to leave, that part was necessary. Kaine squeezed his shoulder briefly but then stood and quietly left the room. She traveled downstairs briefly, vaguely acknowledging Roland and Nariko but she had no desire to talk with either just yet, something Nariko picked up on easily. The electric kettle was boiling within a literal minute and she found the drops that her grandmother had always used when Kaine's nightmares had still been a pain in the ass.

She left just as quietly, and still knocked on Alain's door before peeking through the door with one steaming mug in her hand. "Hey. One express ticket to Sleep Land. Just know that it'll work quickly."

He'd taken the opportunity to strip off his muddy, bloody clothes, so when she returned - rather earlier than he'd expected, since he had been accounting for the time it took to boil a kettle over a flame - he was down to his drawers and undershirt, in the process of getting into bed. If he was going to sleep, then he had no plans to ruin the sheets with the mess of battle when he did so.

He looked over his shoulder as she opened the door, giving her a rather weary smile. "Probably for the best," he admitted, settling himself in against the pillows with the blankets pulled up to his waist. "Thankee-sai. It means a great deal to me."

Well, as mildly self-pitying as it was at least she was being useful to someone around here. It gave her a kind of satisfaction that might not have been at all appropriate for the moment or their situation. Which was exactly why she trampled that feeling and, from the other side of the bed, handed it over. She had done her best to hide the slightly bitter aftertaste that came with the medicine, with sugar of all things, but only Alain would know how successful she had been.

"It's the least I can do." The absolute least of all the least. Kaine sat on the side of the bed, still in her awkward blanket-skirt, and Bert's shirt. It didn't bother her so much now, "He was right. If I had said something before, your friend would be alive. There's nothing I can do to make up for that, so everything from now on, until you all return home, will just be the least of it." It was something she had clearly resigned herself to, without anger or real upset.

He shook his head slowly, and started eating. It was well over a minute before he said, without looking up, "It's over. And some of us survived. There's a relief in that."

More relief than he wanted to admit to, frankly. He had been fighting this war for four years, and feeling more and more pinned down by it. He had never expected to win. To be free of it, and to have most of his tet still alive, was a great weight lifted from his chest, even with the grief and pain of it pressing him down. Somehow, the lightness of it was worse.

Relief wasn't a big enough word, and even though she ate - far quicker than usual, thankfully without any loss of manners - there was no taste. It was an automatic set of motions to follow. Auto-pilot, as Kaine would say to her if the sensation was described. Something else bothered her about it all, nagged at the edge of her feelings and would create inevitable problems, but every time she thought to speak on it another mouthful of food went into her mouth.

"Something to be said for just ..." She laughed, but it was humorless. "Starting the process of letting it go." So the lightness might not be so acrid once all of this became a hard set reality, once the first stages of grief were out of the way. That would be a long time from now, and she stopped herself from thinking about it. "At least there's tomorrow."

And the day after, the day after that. Maybe it was enough to be grateful for a fact as solid and undeniable as that. The suns would come back up and they could deal with things as they arrived.

He took the mug, breathing in the steam, and closed his eyes. Cinnamon tea. His father had always liked cinnamon, had steeped it in his tea as well. Strange, how smell could be a shortcut to memory. He welcomed it now, though, that smell of winter nights and childhood, the smell that had hung on his father's shirts some nights. He could use that anchor.

He took a little sip, opening his eyes again, but looking into the mug rather than at Kaine. She wasn't the only one who was sometimes shy. "If you'd said something before," he said at last, "then we would have relied on you alone. You would have pushed yourself too hard and too fast, and you would still have fallen as you did. Then we would have had an army oncoming, and a Spectre there to kill us besides. Or you would have died, and we would still have lost the war. Jamie would still have died, and so, in all probability, would we." Now he looked up at her, wrapping both hands around the mug. The line of his mouth was soft, but his eyes were almost as piercing as Roland's for a moment. "You didn't start the war. You didn't destroy our walls. You didn't take our lines of defence from us one by one. And you didn't kill Jamie. Farson and the Crimson did."

The benefit of the mutually shy, those less immediate and burning such as Cuthbert and Nariko, was that Kaine understood. She settled against the pillows and didn't mind that he didn't look at her just yet, but when he did she suddenly found it impossible to look anywhere but at him. When her lip trembled she bit it, ducked her head down for just a second and breathed out slowly, and then laughed thinly, with something close to relief.

"You're smart in that way that stops me from being an idiot." Because he was right. There was no combination of unearthly, crazy powers and strategy that would work. Not without Nariko. Not until Kaine had her sword back. "... Thank you. I know you're only telling the truth, but still."

"It's the least I can do," Alain replied, in gentle mockery of her earlier response, and reached out to pat her arm. "What you did, whyever you did it, was worth a lot. You bought us time, and you made a dent in Farson's forces that he won't forget in a hurry. That's more than we could have hoped for from that battle. This has never been a war Gilead could win."

Withdrawing his hand, he took a long drink of his tea, and closed his eyes again, his forehead furrowed a little. "As for Bert... he's angry and upset, and before too long he'll remember himself. But I think sometimes that he feels things deeper than any of us. And he took a lot on himself, and even knowing it was hopeless from the start, that's a heavy burden to bear." He gave her a little smile. "But he'll bear it. And when he remembers what Cort always said about blame, he might even learn to live with it."

Her lips quirked in a sarcastic but oddly loving smile at that. Oh, the gentle one had a sense of humor, too! Even better. It felt nice and weirdly normal. Was she allowed to feel normal with everything that went on? Who could say.

"I wonder if there's really any 'sometimes' about it." To her it seemed he always felt everything very deeply, like he could never turn himself off and it made him react in many different, often damaging ways. It was really no wonder that he reminded her of a certain someone. "Makes sense that he would time, but I still need to know where he is before I can even dream of getting any sleep." She might not even dare to try and speak with him, just knowing if he was at least on her property would be enough. "What did Cort say?"

"Fault lies in one place; with him weak enough to lay blame." Like Roland, Alain recited the words almost by rote, smiling a little sadly as he said them. "If he were here, I do believe he and Bert would have come to blows by now."

What he didn't say was that, for Bert, that would likely come as a relief. Alain knew his friends. Roland dealt with grief in quietness and in ever fiercer devotion to what he had left, but Bert was of a fierier breed. What he needed was to rage and hate and strike out, and that he wasn't doing that concerned Alain more than anything else.

But he said none of that. That was Bert's own business. Instead, he just took another long breath of the cinnamon-scented steam, and sighed. "Be careful when you go to find him. A gunslinger on edge is a dangerous thing."

Cort sounded like a very hard man, one Kaine wouldn't have gotten along with at all.

"I will be. But anything is better than him having stayed. It wouldn't have been a two person fight by any means. She's too protective now." And that would have been the worst, most unbearable position for Kaine to be in. Nariko protective over everything that had occurred, protective of Roland just as much as whatever they had created together in this not-space, and Bert, just angry and pained.

"Better that he hits me than anyone else here. At least I heal quicker." She meant that to be funny but as she said it ... Well, it came out as anything but that.

Alain looked almost physically pained. "You've healed from too much today," was all he said, very quietly and mostly into his tea. "If he hits you, hit him back."

That, too, might be what Bert needed. Someone to hit him. Otherwise, he might just keep doing all the beating up himself, and watching him turn all his anger and hurt inwards was awful. It was like watching a man burn up from the inside.

He drank down the rest of his tea slowly, making it last. After a few moments, he said, "Someone ought to be protective of Ro'. It's been a long time that we've had that job to ourselves."

She had yet to heal from much of anything just yet, but since his eyes were elsewhere, she nodded. Why he looked so hurt all of the sudden ... She didn't know what that might be, but it passed and nothing else mattered. If Bert really was that upset, that prepared to blow, then Kaine would handle the situation as it happened.

At that, Kaine laughed gently. "I would almost say the same, but four years isn't a very long time." Nothing compared to the near twenty Bert and Alain had with their dinh. Their Roland. "It makes me happy, to be honest. In truth I always knew it would." And, here, she began near comical imitations of things said to her, "'You're just upset because you don't have a man', and 'you don't get to keep a foolish crush for so long'. It was never even that. I was just scared for her. It's not like anyone gave her the time to be. But now it's," She tilted her head towards the door but her eyes remained fixed on the wall. "... It's better. I thought it would be if they could be alone. At this rate, she'll probably die before she let's anyone even touch him the wrong way, let alone the two of you."

Kaine leaned into the pillows but her eyes closed as her head tilted up a bit. "I guess it'll still be a little sad for a while, but ..." Her sudden desire to talk disappeared, a not-so-proverbial roadblock. "Were you ever worried about it?" This marriage.

He didn't ask for an explanation. Instead, he just shrugged, sipping at his tea, his eyes closed and his head resting back against the head of the bed. "Of course I was," he said at last, frankly. "I feared it with everything in me. That she would be someone he couldn't love, and that she would be someone he could. That she would distract him, that he would abandon her. I did nothing but worry about it from the moment she came to Gilead to the moment she left. I've seen what women - what love can do to Roland. And to all of us."

For a moment, he lapsed into silence. Then, looking at her, he said suddenly, "It reflects, you know. Bert feels it too. With Susan, and now with Nariko. We're an-tet, and both of us have the Touch besides. When he loves, I love, and even reflected it's a fierce flame." His look changed, turned almost apologetic. "When Bert loves, I feel that, too."

All of that was very fair and, really, the best answer that she could have expected. And yet Alain somehow wandered into territory that was utterly foreign and Kaine found herself lost. She wasn't entirely without situational awareness - he looked upset again so obviously something about what he'd mentioned was the cause - but she very obviously wasn't grasping half of this.

"What?" Kaine frowned a bit. "Alain, you've lost me a bit, here. It sounds like you're saying that when Roland falls in love with someone the both of you have to feel that, too." He was also heavily implying that Bert was in love with - with -- Fuck that. No. One issue at a time. "Which would sort of mean there's a really weird, vaguely unsettling love four-way going on here."

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between two points

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this icon is too implicative but nothing else fit

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a common problem, i find

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