shiroi_tiger | 29 Chimera Court, Friday Afternoon

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29 Chimera Court, Friday Afternoon

Nathan sighed as he looked out his living room window, a cup of tea in hand. It semed like a nice enough day out, but every now and again... things seemed to creep by, between the house and the beach. He had no idea what the hell they were, but they were likely trouble. And, as much as he wanted to ignore that much...

He'd had enough experience with the island's particular idea of trouble to know that he should at least do a sweep outside to make certain nobody was being attacked by giant slugs in the street or something.

It took him a few minutes, but he gathered both his sword and his pistol, and made his way outside. He could pick off a few of the slugs already, without leaving his front step.

"Well, that's not a great sign, is it?"

It was going to be one of those days.

[OOC: Open for anybody who might catch Nathan in his yard! Warning: Character Death in the comments.]

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Mina had wandered this way out of habit. Not that it was really anything back where she'd come from, not anything other than a place of a memory she had not lost.

She stood across the yard, and watched for a moment. The face she saw was from that memory she had, and a wellspring of emotion she had spent so much time trying to forget attacked her thoughts.

It was improper. It was why she was out to set things right.

But that face, that face filled her with regret and sadness and anger and a longing she did not want to feel at all.

She wanted to speak out, but the name was lost to her. How could she not know his name? So instead she watched, silently, not saying anything.

And... bang, another large slug tottered, and then fell face-first onto the ground. Which was good. Nathan would hate to think that he'd become a bad aim over the past few years.

He lowered his gun and looked around again, to see if others had come to join it.

Instead, he saw something quite different, and very nearly dropped his gun, instead.

"Whilhelmina?"

They had parted with a kiss.

She'd stayed in Wales. He'd gone to Japan.

That had been that.

And now... there she was.

And now there was a voice with the face, and those damn feelings were getting stronger and even though she couldn't force herself to remember in her mind, something else managed to summon "Nathan?" upon her lips.

It surprised even her. It was unfamiliar to her, and she sounded absolutely uncertain. Was that the name to that face?

She seemed so unsure. Nathan didn't know why she had come back to the island, but that uncertainty alone was enough to have him stepping down into the yard, holstering his gun, holding out a hand toward her.

"Whilhelmina. It's... it's been a while."

Nathan, you had no idea.

"It has," Mina said, trying to summon up the memories to actually behave like one was expected. It felt like a battle in her head, between forces she wasn't quite in control of... though she hadn't truly been in control for quite some time.

She took the offered hand and stepped towards him, and felt the warmth of his hand in hers. A feeling both familiar and seemingly wholly forgotten. "I can't even recall how long."

"Years," Nathan supplied, his tone gentling. "Seven? Eight? Timelines were always sort of a suggestion around here, anyway."

He'd let her go. He'd gone his own separate way. And she'd hinted not so subtly that she would have liked for him to stay, at least visit now and then...

He shook his head a little.

"How have you been?"

Small talk.

"Years," Mina agreed, cutting through the daze that was trying to well up in her head. "I've been... alive." So much for the small talk. How did one hold a civilized conversation? There really hadn't been anyone around to actually speak with where she'd come from. No one on her level, at least.

"That's better than many can say," she added, looking into his eyes. She was examining him almost like one looks at a peculiar painting or a strange animal. "Yourself?"

He was alive. He wasn't supposed to be alive.

Nathan suddenly found himself keenly aware of that look in her eyes. It wasn't a look he'd seen often, particularly from her.

And what she said? Better than many could say?

He frowned thoughtfully. Wasn't quite certain what to make of it.

"Here," he answered, maybe a little vaguely. "I've been here, after a few years in Japan. I haven't been able to return for some time, now."

And he hadn't even visited her. He'd been here all this time, and...

"Because you've been dead," she finally said, just staring at him like he was both a miracle and a blasphemy unto a higher power. She reached a hand up to touch his face, like she absolutely didn't believe what was in front of her. She knew she'd traveled in time, that had been explained to her, but she hadn't thought that it was possible that he could be there. Not that she could truly remember who he was or why he was important, but she could remember the feelings of it all. The emotional memory was powerful and intoxicating and had absolutely poisoned her soul.

"Because I've been..." He blinked at the brush of her fingers to his face, briefly finding himself thoroughly lost. "I've been scarce, maybe, but I assure you I've been as alive as I've ever been."

He raised his own hand to grasp gently at hers, his brow knit in concern.

"What's happened, Wilhelmina? Why are you here?"

"The world is going to fall apart," Mina said, unable to lie to this face, to this man. "And we're here to spare everyone that terrible pain."

Was it mercy to kill him now? Instead of... killing him later, like she had done. She remembered his face because she remembered bleeding him dry and it tore her up inside but she didn't know why.

"By... stopping it from happening?"

Look, Mina, Nathan trusted you. Even after all this time, he trusted you.

"We've stopped the end of the world together before."

But there was something in her expression that was breaking his heart, and he wanted to rip that pain away, to make this better, somehow.

She seemed so lost.

"By making it happen now," Mina said. He was a dead man, it didn't hurt the plan to tell it to the dead. The dead couldn't tell anyone or stop anything. They were dead.

"Mercy killing, really. To save a patient who can't be made better."

She looked at him, the emptiness of her memory clawing at her mind.

"Mercy killing."

Nathan's voice was flat, then. Tired.

So, so damn tired.

"To save it from what, Wilhelmina?"

It wasn't her. Or if it was, she was so fundamentally different that he hardly recognized her anymore. Her face was hers. Her voice was hers. But her words...

It had better damn well be worse than Triffids, Mina.

"I can't remember you," she said, not entirely deflecting. "It makes you forget, until you can't remember that you had anything to lose. You lose yourself, and then when you've lost everything, you become something worse. Beasts and monsters, far more grotesque than... than..." She couldn't even remember the name of the man she'd fought alongside for so long, the doctor who transformed into a hulking creature. But he'd died to the Tripods, not to the disaster that was coming.

"I can't remember you," she said, tears starting to flow down her cheeks. "I killed you and it haunts me and I don't know why."

She could feel an anger boiling up inside her.

Nathan's breath caught at that. His eyes widened a little, and his hand fell back to his side.

It makes you forget.

But even that wasn't worth the end of the world. Wasn't worth destroying everything that had been fought for, fought so hard for...

"Mina," he said, his voice gentler still as he reached again for her hand. "Mina, I'm here. I'm right here. And I don't see any monsters."

Well. There were slugs. But those didn't sound like what she was talking about.

"You're not looking hard enough, then," Mina said, snarling momentarily as her fangs bared, but her expression faded quickly as her anger couldn't bring her to harm him. Her heart remembered now, even if her mind could not, but it couldn't fill the emptiness inside her.

"Who are you?" she whispered, allowing her hand to be taken. "Why were you so important? Why?"

He didn't pull his hand back at that snarl. Didn't so much as flinch. He couldn't bring himself to. And for the life of him, he didn't know how to answer that question.

Words didn't matter. She'd told him that, once. And it was one of the last things that had gone through his mind before he'd seen her one last time, himself. When she'd all but asked him to come with her. When he hadn't.

He'd regretted for years, not going with her. Had regretted it and hadn't, because if there had been a life with Wilhelmina, there wouldn't have been a life with Taka. And now he was here, and he had neither. He had a stack of letters that he kept trying to send home, and now this. This ghost of a woman that had touched his heart.

Words didn't matter. It was proving what it was that you'd meant to say. And she wanted to know why he was so important. So he did all he could think to do. He leaned forward to kiss her.

It had been years since anything remotely of this nature had happened to Mina, and the initial thrill quickly turned to nothingness in her mind as they kissed. Her heart could only remember so much, it seemed. Inside, her emotions were a gnawing pit that could only go unfulfilled, and out of that pit now sprang the deepest sadness and regret. She kissed him back, but began to cry anew. This didn't explain anything, this didn't make anything better.

She pulled her head back. "You can't let me kill you again," she said in a hushed tone.

"I don't intend to let anybody kill me," Nathan murmured back. "Not even you."

God, his heart ached. He did remember her, more vividly now than he had in years. And all it served was to break his heart, watching her cry, unable to do anything to soothe her pain.

"What you came to do," he said, softly. "Destroy everything? It's against everything you ever were. Don't do this, Wilhelmina. Please."

"It's the only way to forget your face," Mina said, staring at him through her tear-filled eyes. "It's the only way to forget the parts it won't let me lose. Everything will crumble and then it will all be fine."

She smiled, though there was no happiness in it. "Unless you stop me. I don't even know why I want you to stop me. I can feel it in my chest, but I can't think it in my head. I don't like this conflict, so you can either end me, or I can end you. It's the only way."

That...

That was not what Nathan wanted to hear.

"Nothing is going to crumble," he said, though there was a sharper edge in his voice, now. "Wilhelmina, I don't want to fight you."

That didn't mean he wouldn't. Not if he was pushed.

"Then you'll fall like everyone else," Mina said, taking a step back. She stared at her hands for a moment, then back up at him. "Surely you must have been something more than this. Or are you empty inside as well, now?"

Nathan's brow furrowed, a frown on his face that he could only hope hid the way it felt as though his heart was cleaving in two in his chest.

"I have too much to live for to be empty," he replied. "There's too much worth saving in the world for me to allow you to end it. Too much life."

Life in every breath. He pulled in a slow, steady breath of his own, to keep his composure. His hand moved to rest on the hilt of his sword.

"Please, Mina. Don't do this."

Don't make him do this.

"Then strike true," she said, baring her fangs and snarling. "Because I don't know why, but I loved you and I will destroy the world to be rid of what happened."

"I'm not worth the world," Nathan said, and so help him, a note of pleading was making its way into his voice. His grip was firm on the hilt of his sword, and he took a half-step back, not quite into a ready stance, but near enough that he could slip into one if needed.

He couldn't just kill her because she claimed to know how to end the world.

"What you're feeling... what you can't remember... isn't worth destroying everything. There is no pain worth that. The Wilhelmina I knew wasn't so selfish."

She was done talking. Every word he said brought up emotions she was already wanting to be rid of, and she'd given him his chance.

She growled and lunged forward, ready to drain him dry a second time.

That lunge was like nothing Nathan had ever seen, was proof positive that Wilhelmina wasn't there anymore. Not entirely.

The Wilhelmina he'd loved had wept when she'd drawn his blood. Had been terrified that she'd hurt him, that he'd fear her and turn away.

She growled and lunged, and he sidestepped, not as quickly as he could have, years ago, but quickly enough. His sword was drawn and swung all in one deft motion, blade swiftly moving for her neck.

He didn't turn to see if he'd hit his mark.

He didn't want to look.

He just sank to his knees, and pulled in another breath.

And behind him, there was not a thunk of a body or any sound at all. Just a cloud of dust that scattered into breeze, leaving almost no trace of what had just transpired.

If anybody had asked Nathan, he'd tell them that he'd long forgotten how to cry. What could there possibly be in the world that was worth his tears? He'd seen hell, dealt more than his fair share of it into the lives of people who had deserved so much better. Crying was self-indulgent, was selfish, when a man stopped to do so with as much blood on his conscience as him.

But he stayed outside in his yard, most certainly not crying, for a good twenty minutes. Long enough for the slugs to return, to take an interest in him. And only when he had to get up to fend them off did he pull himself to his feet again.

And when he went back into the house, sword in hand, dripping in the ichor from the creatures that had been attacking, he went for the whiskey before he went to clean himself off.

He could be self-indulgent tonight.

Only tonight.

Miguel had heard the shots outside, looked outside, and saw Nathan seemed to have the slugs well in hand, so took the time to get into his UMF outfit instead of rushing down.

By the time he made his way there, Nathan was already on his way back in, looking physically fine but definitely worse for wear.

"Everything okay?"

Nathan's reply wasn't so much a verbal answer as a tired look at Miguel, then down at his sword, a thin sheen of slug gunk clinging to the blade. He opened his mouth a little, and then shrugged and exhaled.

He'd been better.

Been worse, too. But not by much.

Miguel looked back at him, thought, then offered, "Want me to wipe that off?"

Hey, he sucked at emotions, especially other people's. Cleaning metal he could do.

Nathan very nearly pulled the sword close to clutch at it, but stopped himself before any weird emotional knee-jerk could end in loss of limb or... further... loss of life.

He opened his mouth again, this time to sigh.

"It does need it," he allowed. His hand was shaking, he realized. He was probably not a good candidate for sword-cleaning duty today.

Miguel pulled out a chair and slung it around for Nathan to collapse into, then sat on the edge of the table. "Silk work?" He spun a web between his hands, making a solid cloth.

"You're on your own for a glass, though." He nodded at the whiskey bottle. "Or not."

Nathan gave a small huff in response to that, a humorless, brief laugh that was more punctuation to a thought than anything useful. He set the sword down on the table, ichor and all, reached for the bottle, and then sank down into the chair.

He kept eye contact with Miguel as he opened the bottle and took a swig, then just raised his eyebrows pointedly.

Apparently it was going to be an 'or not' day.

Edited 2017-12-16 10:54 (UTC)

Miguel just shrugged. Whatever was going on, he wasn't judging. Well, not unless Nathan ended up needing carrying to his room. Then there would be judging.

He took the cloth he'd made and started carefully getting the slug yuck off the sword. "Anything out there worse than the slugs?" Your emotional issues were your own, Nathan, but if there was anything dangerous out there...

Nathan didn't want to have this conversation right now. You could tell he didn't want to be having this conversation by the way he raised a shaking hand holding a bottle of whiskey to his lips for another swig before answering.

"There might be," he said, at length. "I doubt she came here alone."

"She?" Miguel asked. Then he held up a hand. "Whatever. I just need to know if there's something to outsmart or fight."

Ew. That slug juice was really...ew. He wrapped it all up in a bit more webbing and started fresh with a new bit.

There was another long pause. And then another mouthful of whiskey.

"Then yes, there likely is." And yes, another mouthful still. "There was talk about ending the world."

That was some nice, light conversation to distract him from how badly he just wanted to not be coherent right now.

Miguel sighed and finished wiping the goo off the sword. "Should we let somebody know? I can stop by, see if Liam's heard anything at the station."

Nathan simply nodded, looking back at the sword.

"You should do that," he agreed. And then took another drink. Shuddered a little. Everything was settling into an old, familiar haze. He couldn't say he had missed it. But right now, maybe he was half convinced that he had. "Go tell Liam."

He just wanted to be alone.

Miguel eyed Nathan for a moment, then just shrugged and got up to leave. "Okay, sure. Don't let any slugs in while I'm gone."

"Mm," Nathan replied, not even the slightest note of commitment in his tone. He reached to his hip, pulled his pistol from its holster, and set it on the table in front of him self. "No slugs. Got it."

It was okay, Miguel. He'd been a perfect shot under the influence of far more whiskey than this. The house would be safe.

Hey, if it wasn't, it was Nathan's house.

"Nothing else bad, either," he pointed out. Then he headed out the door.

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29 Chimera Court, Friday Afternoon

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