Prodigal

[dejah_thoris]

After a long day in the forge, and a long night of pacing the corridors of the bar looking for Curtis, Dejah had come back to her rooms and tried to work on the prostheses.  She'd made significant progress, building the initial layer of isolates and imprinting the neurological signature she'd recorded the very first day onto the layer itself.  It took an incredible amount of focus and when she was done, she lay her tools on her work bench.  Bleary-eyed and exhausted, she made her way to the bed.


She didn't wake for many hours.  Not even the recurring image of Curtis's shy smile melting into the leering grin of Matai Chang could manage to stir her from sleep.  It was late in the day when she rolled over and peered at the window.  The sun was going down.  Or was it coming up? She couldn't tell.

Comments

[dejah_thoris]

She nods, staying close, nuzzling his cheek. Her hands fret at the back of his neck and there's an energy still running through entire body.

"I always want too much. I want to go too fast. But this is -- important to me. I want to do this right."

I want to know you'll be here for me, too.

[2goodarms]

Okay. Okay, he can do that. He can bring his self-control to bear, and corral his thoughts (that's always been the easy part: boxing away the thoughts he doesn't want to handle right now), and try to get his breath even enough to say:

"All right. We don't have to go fast."

[dejah_thoris]

She steals another soft kiss from his lips. And another. A soft, desperate laugh whispers against his lips.

"You taste like heaven."

[2goodarms]

That's a new one, part of him thinks, before it's immediately shushed by the rest of him. Curtis captures her lips with his own, fresh heat coiling under his skin.

When they break: "Haven't heard that before," he says, half-laughing, before kissing her again.

[dejah_thoris]

Kiss after tentative, hungry kiss. Dejah half crawls into his lap, like she can't get close enough to him. She tugs at his hat, another quiet giddy laugh on her lips. A moment later, she's pressing her brow to his, trying to catch her breath.

"Still haven't told me. What it is you want from this? Tell me. I need to know."

[2goodarms]

By then, his hand's found its way back to her waist, fisted in the fabric just above her hip. He's breathing hard, dazed, grinning a little at the sight and feel of her; the caffeine-like fizz races through his veins.

"I," he starts, and falters.

It's nice, being with her. He can keep the memories at bay, letting the present swallow up the past and future. He feels --

Oh.

(So many things he locked away, after he boarded the train. So much he forgot. Curtis had forgotten this, too.)

"I'm happy," he whispers, with the awe of looking out a window for the first time in decades. "Here. That's what I want."

[dejah_thoris]

She feels that awe on her skin, warm and wonderful, like the first light of day. She meets his gaze, her hand stroking along his nape, her own smile reflecting a quiet wonder back to him.

"Good. I can't promise it will always be like this, but -- I promise you, I will always try to bring us back here."

[2goodarms]

He nods.

That seems -- fair. Equitable. No promises but to try, for both of them, as they figure this out together.

Curtis steals another brief kiss, draws his arm back around her waist, and leans his head on her shoulder.

[dejah_thoris]

She curls around him, finally tugging his hat off so she can rest her cheek against his head.

"Curtis. When I say I want to go slow, I mean -- I want to build something between us. I do not wish to be an escape for you. A refuge, yes. A place of sanctuary. But not a blind hole you can crawl into. I think you may not realize -- but I need you, too."

[2goodarms]

His forehead crinkles.

(Isn't that what any relationship is supposed to be? An escape? Maybe -- well, she says sanctuary, refuge, and he can wrap his head around those concepts. They're only a step or two removed from an escape; Curtis can make the leap, and shape his expectations accordingly.)

And then she says the rest, and he can't stop himself from asking: "Why?"

[dejah_thoris]

Her grip on him tightens. Her voice breaks a little when she tells him the abject truth.

"Because without you, I am alone. Can't you see?"

[2goodarms]

Curtis lifts his head and draws back, just enough to look at Dejah in open astonishment.

But you're Front, he thinks. And she's not like Wilford sitting alone in the engine, never venturing out to the rest of his creation. She's talked so much about reaching out to her people. Helping them. Fighting alongside them. Shit, one of her friends even threatened to kill Curtis if he hurt her.

How can he matter so much? How can she be alone?

[dejah_thoris]

She just looks into his beautiful blue eyes, her hand slipping down to rest with her thumb over his pulse. She can still taste his lips on her own, can feel the weight of his hand around her waist. He was happy a moment ago.





"Have I asked too much?"

[2goodarms]

"No," he says. "I just -- "

He doesn't understand. The little he can grasp, right at its edges, makes his voice turn lower, more gentle.

"You've got to have other people. Don't you?"

[dejah_thoris]

She gives a little half shrug, and then a gentle shake of her head.

"Not really. Not like this. I sleep alone. I wake alone. I have a few friends, my father... But when the servants retire for the evening, I am left to my own devices. I do my research, I work on the Project. Or here, I work on your arm or I do biological surveys of the lake..." Her voice tapers off at the end, and her hand slips down to fiddle with the collar of his shirt again.

[2goodarms]

In the past, he might have envied being in such a position: all the space you want, no people crushing you on all sides. That was before Wilford escorted him into the heart of the engine and left him there, just Curtis and the near-silent hum that drowned out every other sound.

He thinks of that moment; he thinks of Edgar, and Tanya, and even Gilliam.

Very soft, very clear, he hears a stray thought: I have something the Front doesn't. I have something they can't take.

If he were facing anyone but Dejah, he'd feel a hell of a lot more vindicated by that thought. Instead, he simply leans in again, tightening his embrace.

[dejah_thoris]

She bends her head so she can rest cheek to cheek with him, and sighs, long and low. Her hands still roam over his shoulders, his neck, gently stroking over his head.

"It's a bit pathetic, isn't it?" She laughs at herself, but her hands still try to pull him closer.

[2goodarms]

He lets himself be pulled, unresisting.

"Nah," he says. "Surprising. Not pathetic."

[dejah_thoris]

He speaks and he can feel the tension in her body fade a little. It's so good to feel his arm around her, to be able to hold him close.

"You say you don't know how to act around me. I feel the same way about you. I don't know what I'm supposed to do or say."

[2goodarms]

Hearing this surprises Curtis almost as much as her first confession. He doesn't move back this time, but he does frown, pressing an absent kiss to her temple as he does.

(She's taking so much care with him. Even now, he's a little baffled by it.)

"Because of the train, or what?" he asks.

[dejah_thoris]

"Yes, that's part of it. That and... I don't want you to think I'm confusing you with someone." She leans into that kiss, scrunching her eyes tight for a moment. He doesn't realize what a gift each kiss feels like to her.

"My memory is -- do you know what 'eidetic' means?"

[2goodarms]

The frown deepens as he thinks.

"No," he says. "I don't remember."

[dejah_thoris]

"It means I do remember. Everything. It's good for my studies, my work. But it also means, when I see or hear something, it can trigger memories. Vivid memories."

She chews her lip, fingertips idly fiddling with the buttons on his shirt.

"I don't want you to think I look at you and see him. I don't. When I say you remind me of him, it's -- something more. It's like hearing a familiar melody in the middle of an entirely different song."

[2goodarms]

Just as he could feel some of the tension leaving her, so she can probably feel the tension loosening along his shoulders. Curtis nods, silent for a moment.

"Feels like it's a hell of a lot to live up to sometimes," he says at last, quiet.

[dejah_thoris]

"I know, but believe me, Curtis." Her hand lights on his cheek, a simple, tender touch.

"Believe me when I tell you, you already have, in your own way. I would not be here with you if you had not already done so."