2019-08-31 - Out of the Fog

Ellie blinks in the normal lamplight of her bedroom, still clinging to August's hand, her legs and arms still scraped up, and the feeling of bruises forming beneath her skin. It was real. She was Over There, for the first time since she was a kid. She looks to the man beside her. "I have Xanax, do you need one?" because that had to be way too reminiscent of what happened to him in Bosnia.

They stumble out into Eleanor's bedroom from the closet door, and for a moment, all August can do is stare, listening, sensing, intent. No fog, no foghorns. It's just her bedroom. He could even put it down to a really wild nightmare, except they're scraped and scratched raw, their clothes a mess.

He stands there, his ear only just now letting go of that high pitched whine. He's shaken and trembling, from adrenaline and more. God what just happened?

He hasn't let go of Eleanor's hand, either. Doesn't even when she speaks, though he does blink and look at her. He takes in a deep breath, lets it out. Should he? Probably.

Please don't leave us.

"Yeah," he says. "That'd be a good idea." He looks dazed, though in some odd way, better than he has. Something's been shaken loose.

Eleanor looks better too, despite the clean streaks on her face where she'd been crying when she first saw the mirrors. Her knuckles are bloodied from the hurt she put on her dead dopplegangers. "I think it wanted you to see me dead," she says quietly, even as she moves into the bathroom, his hand still being held, and opens the medicine cabinet. There is a Xanax prescription bottle in there, and she pulls it out. She has bottled water (water in a reusable bottle, she's green like that) on her nightstand.

August follows Eleanor without comment or complaint, still shellshocked by the sudden transitions, into and out of the Dream. He's happy to hand over his current decisions to literally anyone else right now.

She says that, and he sees the arm again, hears the crunch of the collapsing building. What if he'd touched it, recognized his shirt on it? Would he have been crushed by that building too? He certainly would have started digging without thinking about it, would have assumed any voice calling him away was lying.

He shivers, suddenly feeling cold and dirty. "It wanted me to fail to help you," he says, voice soft. He swallows down bile. The adrenaline crash sure is a thing.

Eleanor hands him the proper dosage for a man his size, and the bottle of water. "Yeah well, the fuckers didn't count on me being able to help myself. At some point I just shut my brain off and let my training do its job," she confesses. Thus the redhead ninja kicking her zombies like a boss.

August takes the pills, drinks the water. Eleanor referring to Them as 'fuckers' gets him a bit closer to snapping out of it. He laughs, almost chokes on his water. "Yeah. They didn't." He has a bit more water, offers the bottle to her. He studies her face. "I think that was my fault. I mean--that we wound up in there." He ducks his head. "I'm sorry, you shouldn't have to go through shit like that because of me."

Eleanor takes her own dose, knocking it back with the water, and shakes her head at August. "Can't be sure on that. I...I've been practicing with my abilities a little. Just a little. But I think I got stronger. I was able to lift something today with my mind that was way heavier than I usually can." Like twice the weight! "So don't put it all on you. These things don't normally take more than one Dreamer. Both of us was intentional. I think." She looks down at her bloodied knuckles. "Well shit."

August glances up at Eleanor. "You have?" He spends a moment taking that in, what it means in the overall. He reaches up with one hand to stroke her hair, bringing it to rest on her cheek, takes one of her hands with the other of his. "I guess this is how it is. We use our gifts, They show up and take what They want. And if we can get through it, that it's. Until the next time." Her lifts that hand to his lips, kisses it gently. He doesn't intend to heal her head to toe, but he does. Maybe it's the last rush of everything they just went through, or maybe it's his way of flipping Them off. You tried, his gifts are saying. And, Still here.

Ellie smiles and she shivers at the healing energy coursing through her, from his lips, over her damaged fists which shed the blood and dirt and pain and reform her skin pure and smooth as before the fighting. All the scrapes and bruises ease away from her body, skin soothing back from rising lines of near cuts and blood moving away from bunching under the skin in inflamed areas. She lets out a breath. "That is amazing, that you can do that. I decided I'm done living in fear, hiding in my house. People need help, and I have knowledge most of them don't. So I'm working on it." She smiles at him. "You found me. You went into that basement and found me."

August waits for it to hit, the inevitable nausea, even a twinge, from healing her. It doesn't come. He takes a second to marvel over that. Is it too much to hope it was just because the injuries were minor?

Stop looking for the dark cloud in every silver lining, dumbass.

He watches her while she speaks, smiles when she speaks of him going into the basement. "I just had to keep thinking to myself, that it wasn't then. It wasn't Sarajevo. That's over. Thinngs that look like it might make me remember, but they're not it. That was easier if I kept focused on you." Also a really good reason he didn't find her body anywhere in all that mess. He's not sure he'd have found a way back out if he had. He'd have died in there.

He sets that thought aside, puts his other hand on Elenor's cheek as well. "You anchored me and got me out of there. Thank you." He leans in and kisses her, wills himself to keep it sweet and light. She might not be feeling the kind of aftereffect he is. He looks down at himself. For all that he healed her, he's kind of a mess. "We should shower," he says.

When August kisses her Eleanor responds a little less sweet and light. She just beat the living crap out of zombified versions of herself, and he just healed all her aches and ouches. She smiles. "We should. I can't heal those up yet, but I can get them healing faster for you. Still a good idea to make sure all your scrapes and such are clean." She tugs on his hand and leads him into the bathroom with a little grin.

August grunts in response to the way Eleanor kisses him back. He shivers, and not in a bad way this time. "I gotta warn you I might not...be that gentle," he says. Okay, now he's really keyed up. And God the shower sounds like a great place to get started.