[M'ways] Room 1001

[dejah_thoris]

It was after dinner and she'd finished up her work for the day. She shook out her hand, stretched the muscles of her fingers, hoping that the tendon would stretch with it.  It hurt more and more with each passing day, but she had other things to worry about.  Curtis was supposed to meet her after he'd worked out and checked on Edgar.

That was two hours ago.  She finally broke down and touched two fingers to her bracelet.  It pulsed blue and she got the sense he was in his room.  Strange.  She touched it again, just to be sure.  No, he was there.  Alive and attached to the pendant.

She decides to go down and say hello, find out if everything's okay.  A few minutes later, she's knocking at his door.  

"Curtis?"

Comments

[2goodarms]

Edgar didn't come home last night.

Okay, Curtis tried to tell himself. Not a big deal. Edgar's an adult; he had a curfew his whole damn life before Milliways took them in; Christ knows Curtis would want to run around, too, if he were in the same place.

(Except for how antsy Edgar got his fist night at the faintest suggestion he sleep in his own room. Or that they stay in separate cells after that fight with Tars.)

He worked out, but quit twenty minutes in so he could go take another loop through the bar. Then a second one outside. And another through the bar, then half a loop by the lake before the open space started getting to him, then a check-in with Bar (no, he hasn't been by, I'm sorry, Mr. Everett), and then just -- going back to their room and pacing around in there, hoping that wherever the fuck Edgar is, he'll drop by room 1001 at some point.

The pulse of his pendant shakes him out of it, but only briefly. Shit. He was supposed to meet Dejah. Okay, give it another fifteen minutes, just to make sure, then --

He's at the door an instant after she knocks, yanking it open before her voice registers.

"...Dejah." Curtis' face is drawn, his shoulders knotted. He's not disappointed to see her -- he could never be disappointed -- but fuck, it's not Edgar. "Shit. Hey."

[dejah_thoris]

She sees the worry lining his face, feels the waves of anxious energy pouring off him. "Curtis, What's the matter?"

[2goodarms]

"Have you seen Edgar today?"

Automatically, he shoulders the door the rest of the way open and steps back so Dejah can come inside.

[dejah_thoris]

"No?"

Now she understands.

"When was the last time you saw him?"

[2goodarms]

"Yesterday. He didn't come home."

And he could be fucking anywhere. Up in the mountains. In the lake. Curtis can't stop spinning out worst case scenarios, his usual strategic thoughts going haywire as he thinks of every possible thing that could happen to someone who hadn't even seen the sun until a few months ago.

[dejah_thoris]

Dejah knows the feeling all too well. She steps in and closes the door behind her, taking Curtis's hand in her own.

"Hey," she says, her voice quiet. "Weren't you the one who assured me what a formidable warrior he was? I know he's never gone hunting without you before, but -- I'm sure wherever he is, he's fine."

[2goodarms]

"I know. I know. But -- "

He can't shake it: the last time he left Edgar to fend for himself, he ended up dead on the floor of a train car.

[dejah_thoris]

"But what?" She asks, steering him over to -- what was there even to sit on in this place? There was a strange loop of cloth strung between two hooks.

"Curtis, he is no longer a child. He is a grown man. He died in battle. While I'm sure he'd be touched by your concern, all you're doing is making yourself sick with worry. Now, we can go look for him? Ask around the bar, the stables -- I know he was spending some time in the garage?"

[2goodarms]

Curtis sinks onto the hammock with a long sigh. He pulls on Dejah's hand, encouraging her to sit as well.

"Already checked everywhere I could think of," he says. "...There's a garage?"

[dejah_thoris]

She doesn't know what to do but she tries anyway. There's no edge to grip, so she puts a hand on his thigh and fumbles with the hammock, tentatively backing into it. It feels like it's pulling away and she's going to fall, so she hesitates and sighs.

"Yes, there's a garage, and if you think this place is big, you haven't seen anything yet. There are simulacrums, man-shaped machines down there, that are as tall as the trees out back. Taller, possibly will you show me please what I'm doing wrong here?"

[2goodarms]

He's about to ask what, like the Jaegers? -- distracted, still thinking more of enormous open space than enormous machines -- only to stop and blink at her, perplexed.

Oh. Fond amusement brushes a bit of the worry aside."Here," he says; bracing his feet against the floor, he leans more of his weight into the hammock to push it up and back. Held like that, it looks more like a chair than a cocoon threatening to fold around her. "Keep your feet on the floor. Makes it easier to sit."

[dejah_thoris]

She does as he instructs, and sort of wriggles her way on to the hammock. "This feels like it wants to eat me."

[2goodarms]

"I'll pull you out," he promises as he settles his arm around her waist.

As the rushing thoughts return, Curtis lapses back into quiet. Idly, he pushes one foot against the ground, gently rocking the hammock.

I can't fuck up with Edgar again.

[dejah_thoris]

She leans back and half turns, ending up folded against his side. It's easier to just lay against him than it is to fight it.

She lays her head on his shoulder, her hand on his chest. "Talk to me, love. Tell me what you're thinking."

[2goodarms]

Love hits him like a jolt of electricity, blacking out everything else for an instant. He catches his breath, waits for his heartbeat to return to normal.

(Love. God, if he felt like he was about to step off a cliff before.)

Low: "I told you I pretty much raised him, right?"

[dejah_thoris]

"You may have mentioned it in passing, but you never told me any specifics."

[2goodarms]

"Not a lot to tell," he says, dodging around the truth as automatically as ever. "Just how it worked out. Dad didn't make it on, his mom died pretty early -- "

The jolt's smaller, but much more unpleasant this time. Please, he thinks: don't let her ask for details about that.

" -- so I ended up taking care of him most of the time. Other people helped," he's quick to add. "Most of the kids kinda got raised by committee. But all of 'em had at least one person they went to the most."

[dejah_thoris]

She feels the tension in his body, so she nestles closer. "So, he's -- a little brother." Dejah has no siblings, but John had younger brothers and sisters. "Not a son, though, yes?"

[2goodarms]

"Definitely not a son."

God help them all if that had been the case.

"Little brother...kind of. I don't know. He's Edgar."

It's still as shitty an explanation as ever, and still the only one Curtis knows that encompasses what they mean to each other.

[dejah_thoris]

"He's family."

Her voice drops to barely more than a whisper. "And you've already watched him die once. I understand."

[2goodarms]

"Yeah."

Curtis lets out a long, faintly shaky sigh, leaning his head against Dejah's. His foot keeps up the slow swing of the hammock, like the sway of the train.

"You know I sometimes thought he was irritating as hell. I haven't thought that too much since we got here."

[dejah_thoris]

Dejah chuckles under her breath, lets out a long slow sigh. Her fingertip toys idly with a hole in his sweater.

"Did I ever tell you John disappeared on our wedding night?"

[2goodarms]

"...No." Curtis frowns. "Why?"

From everything he's heard about John, he doesn't seem like the type to get cold feet.

[dejah_thoris]

"Vanished. Into thin air. One moment we were talking. He was standing on my balcony, overlooking the city. I told him to come back to bed. He smiled, said it felt like he'd forgotten to do something, but he was right behind me. The next moment, he disappeared.

Woola came to me in a panic. He can track a scent over hundreds of miles. And John was just... Gone. Not in the city. Not anywhere.” Her hand curls into a first around a handful of the soft knit fabric. Her entire body nestles closer to him.

"Ten years we were apart. I knew he was alive somewhere, I could feel it. Turns out, one of the Thern came, transported him back to Jasoom, purely out of spite. It took him ten years but he outwitted them. Found another amulet and came home to me."

She's not quite sure why she's telling him this, other than its a part of her history. The humor returns to her voice. "He used to joke that the best part of that whole mess was, when he got back, I never complained about him leaving his boots in the middle of the floor ever again."

[2goodarms]

He huffs out a tiny laugh, even as his embrace tightens.

Ten years. That's barely anything for someone with Dejah's lifespan, but it's, what, a quarter of the time she and John were married? To have so few years together (by her standards), and to have a chunk of that yanked away with no warning, a loved one disappearing with no sign...

(He's thinking of the kids again. Of Gerald, querulously telling his wife he'd be okay, not to worry, he'd come back.)

"I'm sorry you went through that," he whispers.