[ He laughs abruptly, warmly—it's relief, though there's a part of him that won't give in, stays braced. ] You sound so stupid. [ Stuffy. Like a bad impression.
On that note, he hangs up. It takes longer than anticipated to make his way to her cabin—the hallway steep and constricted, his mouth dry—but make it he does. He tries the handle first, a reflex.
He looks bad, even with thirty-odd years and a head of hair returned to him: sleepless and disheveled, possessed of an energy that's somewhere between eager and agitated. His former self's poise nowhere in evidence. ]
[Claire's wondering if she's lost her mind or if he's actually lost his, after that whole simulation. She stands from her seat when she hears the door--it's open, in anticipation of a visitor, and he--
Well, he does look bad. And it's strange to look at him and think of a her that knew something like this William twenty years ago, but that's not true. Nor is the older, worn man, rough around the edges but still painfully familiar.]
... you said I sounded stupid, but you look like you've been trampled by a horse.
[Better than an awkward hello.]
Christ. Have you slept?
[She sounds more concerned than she means. She shakes her head, rubbing her hand over her face. Maybe she needs sleep.]
[ It's gratifying, to find the door open—and after Area X easy to read into, to cast as an extension of her. William steps into the cabin, only half-listening to her talk. Chasing a smile from one side of his mouth to the other. ]
Think so. [ He says to her question. He maintains a careful distance but looks her over just as carefully—the shade of her eyes and shape of her hands. It all of a sudden strikes him as absurd, seeing her like this. Beholding her as if something miraculous.
He shuts his eyes a moment—as long as he can stand it. Opens them. ] What happened? What happened to you?
[William doesn't smile at her. Not genuinely, not here, and Claire is a little unsettled by it, but reflexively smiles back. Old habits that are not hers.
Claire turns, passing a hand over the back of the chair she was sitting in on her way to sit in the other, opposite of it. An invitation to join her in the only real place to sit in the room that isn't the bed.
Definitely not the bed.
She clasps her hands together on her lap, inhaling deeply. Well, maybe that's an easier place to start than the two of them.]
In... there? Well, it looks like I don't very much listen to you, no matter where or who we are.
[Claire finds that funny. The next thought, not so much, and she frowns.]
I found Loki. We... I don't really know what the hell happened between us [a common theme], but it wasn't pretty. We were both in an... emotional state, and in that place, it changed us. I don't know what to think about that. I haven't spoken to him yet.
[Again, she shakes her head. Looks down at her hands. Looks to William.]
How are you?
[It's not her making small talk. It's an honest question, there in her eyes, even if she'd like to mask it.] Are you okay?
[ He's gripped anew by the urge to laugh—at her formality, the way she smooths the back of the chair. Her hands neat in her lap. Like he hasn't seen her spill half a taco down the front of her shirt in the middle of poring over new research, exclaiming over some column of numbers.
He sits. Wonders, looking at her hands, if she might want to touch him too. Quashes that thought.
He does, however, meet her eyes and inch his chair toward hers. ] All that conservation stuff [ —the passionate interest in Florida's endangered species, the plaudits and endless fundraisers— ] was an excuse to keep tabs on Area X. I don't give a shit about animals. [ He rolls his eyes, though there's something restless in it. An impatience with himself. His mouth seals in a hard line: no more smiling. ]
[Said with a laugh, because she did know. Knew. Past tense, because she's not that Claire who knew that William. Technically. But she can remember bits of pieces of a long life, of moments shared over decades, Area X looming in the background. Just as fresh and well and vibrant as some of her own memories in this life. It's like a tangled necklace and she doesn't know how to fix the chain without breaking part of it.
She breathes out the last of her amusement and rubs her eye, glancing down at her fingers to see that there's no smear of mascara and eyeshadow. She doesn't wear makeup here.]
It's a cycle. [For her. Of emotions, tumbling over one another, and she's not sure where some of them came from. She looks down at her hand, at the silver wedding ring on her finger, thistles engraved in the metal.] You and I weren't even friendly towards one another before, and then this simulation had us--
[Well. He knows. Claire frowns.]
It feels like cheating. [She shakes her head. Not the marital sort.] Not on my husband, I was a woman he wouldn't know, but to... feel a certain way towards you, when these experiences--does it count as real? I don't know.
[Please tell her, William. She looks helpless and lost when she looks to him, hoping he can give her some clarity.]
[ She laughs, she lights up in her bizarre English way—like a banker's lamp—and he looks away. Feeling as alone as he ever has with her. He remembers they'd seen two different things, looking at the greenhouse plants in their glass cages: she a marvel, him a horror.
When his gaze returns to her it's guarded, though the ring hits him in a tender spot. The thistle he took from that place—how quickly it withered. ] It's real. But it's not... [ His voice, soft to start, crumbles away. ] It'll never be the same.
If you can love a part of someone, tend to it—or if you can recognize them, maybe it was a thread that unraveled... [ He looks to her and for a moment sees the woman he'd known, driven and desperate but so secure in herself he doubted even the Shimmer could change her. For that moment he could go on.
It doesn't last. ] He—I wasn't a good man. I'm trying to tell you.
[The fiddles with her silver ring, turning it on her finger. She's stood on the edges of cliffs before, felt that drop in her stomach as every animal instinct in her brain told her too close. She's hearing that warning now, but she has a (bad) habit of ignoring it.]
To what end? I think we owe one another honesty, if nothing else. And I'll try my best to give that to you.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2022-04-11 08:43 pm (UTC)On that note, he hangs up. It takes longer than anticipated to make his way to her cabin—the hallway steep and constricted, his mouth dry—but make it he does. He tries the handle first, a reflex.
He looks bad, even with thirty-odd years and a head of hair returned to him: sleepless and disheveled, possessed of an energy that's somewhere between eager and agitated. His former self's poise nowhere in evidence. ]
no subject
Date: 2022-04-11 08:49 pm (UTC)Well, he does look bad. And it's strange to look at him and think of a her that knew something like this William twenty years ago, but that's not true. Nor is the older, worn man, rough around the edges but still painfully familiar.]
... you said I sounded stupid, but you look like you've been trampled by a horse.
[Better than an awkward hello.]
Christ. Have you slept?
[She sounds more concerned than she means. She shakes her head, rubbing her hand over her face. Maybe she needs sleep.]
no subject
Date: 2022-04-11 10:47 pm (UTC)Think so. [ He says to her question. He maintains a careful distance but looks her over just as carefully—the shade of her eyes and shape of her hands. It all of a sudden strikes him as absurd, seeing her like this. Beholding her as if something miraculous.
He shuts his eyes a moment—as long as he can stand it. Opens them. ] What happened? What happened to you?
no subject
Date: 2022-04-12 12:23 am (UTC)Claire turns, passing a hand over the back of the chair she was sitting in on her way to sit in the other, opposite of it. An invitation to join her in the only real place to sit in the room that isn't the bed.
Definitely not the bed.
She clasps her hands together on her lap, inhaling deeply. Well, maybe that's an easier place to start than the two of them.]
In... there? Well, it looks like I don't very much listen to you, no matter where or who we are.
[Claire finds that funny. The next thought, not so much, and she frowns.]
I found Loki. We... I don't really know what the hell happened between us [a common theme], but it wasn't pretty. We were both in an... emotional state, and in that place, it changed us. I don't know what to think about that. I haven't spoken to him yet.
[Again, she shakes her head. Looks down at her hands. Looks to William.]
How are you?
[It's not her making small talk. It's an honest question, there in her eyes, even if she'd like to mask it.] Are you okay?
no subject
Date: 2022-04-17 02:38 pm (UTC)He sits. Wonders, looking at her hands, if she might want to touch him too. Quashes that thought.
He does, however, meet her eyes and inch his chair toward hers. ] All that conservation stuff [ —the passionate interest in Florida's endangered species, the plaudits and endless fundraisers— ] was an excuse to keep tabs on Area X. I don't give a shit about animals. [ He rolls his eyes, though there's something restless in it. An impatience with himself. His mouth seals in a hard line: no more smiling. ]
What, um, what emotion?
no subject
Date: 2022-04-17 05:12 pm (UTC)[Said with a laugh, because she did know. Knew. Past tense, because she's not that Claire who knew that William. Technically. But she can remember bits of pieces of a long life, of moments shared over decades, Area X looming in the background. Just as fresh and well and vibrant as some of her own memories in this life. It's like a tangled necklace and she doesn't know how to fix the chain without breaking part of it.
She breathes out the last of her amusement and rubs her eye, glancing down at her fingers to see that there's no smear of mascara and eyeshadow. She doesn't wear makeup here.]
It's a cycle. [For her. Of emotions, tumbling over one another, and she's not sure where some of them came from. She looks down at her hand, at the silver wedding ring on her finger, thistles engraved in the metal.] You and I weren't even friendly towards one another before, and then this simulation had us--
[Well. He knows. Claire frowns.]
It feels like cheating. [She shakes her head. Not the marital sort.] Not on my husband, I was a woman he wouldn't know, but to... feel a certain way towards you, when these experiences--does it count as real? I don't know.
[Please tell her, William. She looks helpless and lost when she looks to him, hoping he can give her some clarity.]
You've been through this before.
no subject
Date: 2022-05-04 05:42 pm (UTC)When his gaze returns to her it's guarded, though the ring hits him in a tender spot. The thistle he took from that place—how quickly it withered. ] It's real. But it's not... [ His voice, soft to start, crumbles away. ] It'll never be the same.
If you can love a part of someone, tend to it—or if you can recognize them, maybe it was a thread that unraveled... [ He looks to her and for a moment sees the woman he'd known, driven and desperate but so secure in herself he doubted even the Shimmer could change her. For that moment he could go on.
It doesn't last. ] He—I wasn't a good man. I'm trying to tell you.
no subject
Date: 2022-05-08 02:48 am (UTC)To what end? I think we owe one another honesty, if nothing else. And I'll try my best to give that to you.
[She might have some inclination of how she is.]