2019-11-21 - Post High Regrets

The day after their return from Portland begins slow for August and Eleanor. August called in sick for both of them--no way he was letting her on the phone with her employees--and proceeded to corral her in her house. Most of the afternoon after they got home was spent keeping her occupied and stitching up his arm. And when he was done with that, Eleanor became insistent (very insistent) on having her own go at quality time with her lover while tripping on Veil drugs. It took some persuading, but in the end, August's own argument from last time comes back to haunt him: it's not like she'd say no otherwise.

And now, he's curled up around her in bed, face buried against her neck. It's been a hell of a few days. He could stand for things to slow down. So he lays there, dozing, enjoying holding her. Because when she wakes up he fully expects there to be a panic attack.

Oh yes. A sweet, sweet panic attack. It isn't immediate. Eleanor's eyes flutter open and she smiles, because at first she only remembers the most recent activities that transpired and those were amazing. "Hi," she murmurs sleepily, wondering a bit about the headache aching at the back of her skull. She stretches languidly and then suddenly, she freezes. Her eyes go wide as memories of what transpired in Portland come flooding back.

"OH MY GOD I WAS NAKED IN FRONT OF ALL THOSE PEOPLE!" she shrieks, flailing wildly, tangling herself up in the sheets, threatening to drop herself or both of them onto the floor in her panic.

August starts, winces at the ache in his stitched but still-healing arm. "Hey, it's okay, it's okay." He takes her arms, gently, wraps a long leg around her hips to stop the flailing. "Sweetheart, you're fine. You didn't get hurt, you didn't hurt anyone. We're all okay." Of course it's debatable if prancing around naked didn't hurt her, but August figures there's worse. He would, though.

He reaches out with his mind gift, gently urging her to take a breath. "It's okay. I love you, it's okay."

It takes a little bit but eventually she calms enough to just basically be hyperventilating rather than flailing. "OH GOD. The police Captain! Addingtons! Itzhak!" She's never living this down. "Is that how you felt on that dryad ichor?" Her eyes squint as the headache sets in fully. "Hangovers from Veil dust. Joy."

"No nearly that, ah, happy," August admits. He was going to say giddy but she's already feeling bad about it. No need to make that worse. "More hyperfocused on the world. You were definitely seeing things different, though. And you found a grotto, with a book, so it wasn't a total loss." He kisses her neck, holds her tight. "It's okay. I'm pretty sure they all understood." He keeps a tone of 'and if any of them gives you too much shit about it they'll wish they hadn't' out of his voice. Mostly. "I'm just glad you're alright." He brushes her hair back from her face. "Feeling okay? You don't seem to have any side effects except the hangover."

"That book. Psalms of Air and Darkness. That was what the cover said. It took a while for me to make it out, and then we were being spun away again." Eleanor looks at August, brow furrowing. "I take it that was NOT the regular Portland Veil? We were pulled somewhere else?"

She seems to be carefully locking away the horror of being seen in the altogether by respectable citizens, for now.

August repeats the name under his breath, shakes his head. "Definitely not. McDermott described what we should see on the other side of that room, and that was definitely not it." He hesitates, rests his forehead against herrs. "Hyacinth and de la Vega tried reading the book." His expression tightens. "Whatever it showed them, it was bad. I've been thinking of going to talk to her, maybe."

He strokes Eleanor's hair, laughs, sad and tired. "Sorry, hon. I was kind of hoping your first trip Over There wouldn't be a clusterfuck."

Eleanor gives him a wan smile. "Well, I guess it could have been worse. I could have been eaten by that shadow bird thing. Or tried to read the book. That was probably a really bad idea for Hyacinth and the captain. You should talk to them both." You should, because if she sees them she'll just die of mortification.

"Figure Itzhak can talk to de la Vega." August thinks it over though. It's true that, as someone not sleeping with Ruiz, maybe he can offer another perspective. He'll think about it.

August shudders. "It could have been a lot worse. If what happened is the price we pay for you not getting cut up by that thing like Isolde and I did? I'll take it." That said, thanks to Eleanor's healing encouragement and the stitching, his arm should be fine in a day or two. His mouth twitches with a more genuine smile. "Besides," he cups her cheek, runs a thumb over her lips, "it wasn't all bad."

Eleanor blushes crimson and lowers her lashes, chewing on her lower lip. "Well true, it was definitely NOT all bad. I'm surprised no one has tried to like, bottle Veils stuff like the ichor or that pollen or whatever it was I breathed in. They'd make a fortune, a terrifying one."

August mmms deep in his chest, pulls Eleanor against him. "I suspect long term the side effects are a problem. Don't think we want to be lab rats for that, either." He sighs, relaxing for the first time in days. There's still things on the horizon--his exploration stint with Isabella and Anne the city archivist, that threatening letter and what it entails, the Dream he and Itzhak shared and what it showed him.

All of that he sets aside. Right now, he's going to enjoy the better parts of the last few days. Itzhak and Rachel playing duets. Eleanor meeting his family. Eleanor, holding his hand as they (tried) to enter the Veil; holding him after that Dream.

It's a rough life, this magic. But he'll take it over the alternatives.

"And now I'm hungry. Like I could eat an entire lumberjack sized stack of pancakes. With syrup, And hashbrowns on the side," Eleanor murmurs. "And a bottle of aspirin for the headache. This is why I never did drugs. Ugh, the day after."

August grins, leans in and kisses Eleanor on the forehead. "Well good news, your man knows how to cook. But," he raises an eyebrow, "if you want to cure that hunger, we should make it a little more filling. Omlette maybe? With some waffles on the side? Or some crepes?" Sorry Eleanor, your craving for carbs is being subverted. For now.

Ellie grabs a pillow and pulls it over her head with a petulant "UGH! Those things sound healthy!" She snorts and removes the pillow again to look at him with a smile. "How about fruit on the waffles and some bacon?"

"Bacon, fruit on the waffles," August agrees. "I can even suggest some sweetened whipped cream for the waffles to go with the fruit if you want." He bobs his eyebrows, strokes some hair back from her face . "I'm sorry it went like that. Your first time back in There, and..." He ducks his head. "I was hoping it'd be something better." He looks at her again, leans in to give her a light kiss. "I love you. Thank you for coming down there with me. I know this kind of thing isn't easy for you."

"Deal," Eleanor exclaims to the whipped cream. She reaches to stroke his beard with one hand as his head ducks. "It really wasn't all bad. It was beautiful there, if that wasn't just the pollen making me think it was. That grotto was like something out of a fairy tale. My hair looks like I'm in a Pantene commercial from swimming in it," she notes with a chuckle. "And that black hole thing. That was like seeing a brush stroke on canvas by the hand of God."

She returns his kiss. "We survived it. And we learned some things. I love you, and I love going on these adventures with you. You really do make me braver. And apparently a Veil drugs junkie. Between the two of us we're gonna need rehab." She laughs.

August relaxes to hear Eleanor describe their unexpected detour like that. He smiles, counters, "You're already brave. I'm just your cheer squad. And I've sworn off Veil drugs." He holds up a hand in the Boy Scouts tradition. "Scout's honor."

A sigh, and another kiss. "Okay. Shower time. Then breakfast. I called in for both of us, on the off chance you'd be," he arches an eyebrow, "indisposed. So before I go help the archivist and Isabella with this thing of theirs we can go down to the beach for a walk, something like that."

Eleanor throws an arm over her eyes and mumbles, "Exercise AND fruit? You are a cruel taskmaster, August Roen. But I agree, that sounds like a nice way to spend the day. Let's get cleaned up and fed and be-aspirined. I can get some Paranormal Society stuff worked on today while you're out with the Archivist and Isabella."

"Exercise? It's a walk," August says, laughing. He gives Eleanor's shoulder a gentle shove. "Exercising would be taking bikes down the coast trail." He follows that up with a kiss to her cheek, climbs out of bed. "Which I will warn you about well in advance." And with that, he's off to the shower.