2020-01-07 - The Asylum Book Club

It's the end of the work day and August is cooking. He's finally over whatever-it-was he got from healing Finch (a cold? some sort of transfer of her injuries? he's not sure) so he's been quite active to make up for it. Shoveling snow out of Eleanor's driveway, making sure her plants are okay, and now, preparing a nice, warm meal: elk chili with sourdough. He's in a snug, dark red, merino wool sweater, denim jeans, and hard-soled, indoor slippers. The snow flurries outside give him pause; is it going to par-melt and ice over again? God he hates it when the roads turn into a free-for-all hockey/bumper car rink.

Alexander did text, at least, that he was coming over. To get the book. And he can be seen crunching through the snow and slush on the roads, bundled from head to toe, looking even more tired and ragged than usual. Which is saying something. His head is down, and he's walking towards Eleanor's house, clearly visible from the windows. He stops just outside the property, looking at the shoveled driveway and the nice house. Then makes his way slowly up the drive, to give a brisk triple knock, a pause, and then another. His breath forms a cloud of mist.

Ellie has been bustling around all day, taking her parents out to breakfast and for some simple shopping before getting them to Sea-Tac for their flight back to Florida. They adore August. Even her normally cranky dad was mellow with him, so it's clear retirement suits him, or he's worried about his daughter being an old maid and never giving him grandkids. She's been back for about twenty minutes and just changed into something more comfy, yoga pants and a sweatshirt. She moves behind August in the kitchen and puts her arms around him, to kiss his cheek.

At the knock she murmurs, "I'll get it," and heads to open the door. "Alexander!" she greets with a smile. "Come in out of the cold."

August was prepared to be nervous as hell about meeting Eleanor's parents, but they'd proven to be entirely tolerable. Bullet dodged. He leans back into Eleanor, smiles at the kiss. He pauses in the process of stirring the chili when he hears the knock and glances over his shoulder. "Probably Alexander, he said he'd be by." And lo, August is correct, so plainly he's psychic. Or at least capable of reading a text message.

He frowns as the door opens, before he's even laid eyes on Alexander, and pulls down a mug. "Get you something? Cocoa, tea, coffee? Three week vacation in La Jolla?"

"Eleanor," Alexander says, with a warm smile. "Thank you." He sidles his way inside, looking like he expects to be ordered to leave. So...pretty ordinary, really. He looks relieved to be out of the cold - his own chill has faded along with his wounds. His eyes seek out August, first, assessing the older man for his own damages from the healing he'd done. Then his eyes flick back to Eleanor. "I've looked a little at the flash drive. It's magnificent, Eleanor. Simply amazing." The hint of a real smile, before turning to August again. "Cocoa would be nice. The three week vacation, as well. But...well. I can understand if you can't swing that on short notice."

"Well, I thought to myself, 'what on earth would make a great gift for Alexander Clayton?' And I realized I had it all right under my nose," Eleanor quips, closing the door behind him. "Plus it's practical, if my house burns down or something, there is a backup with someone I trust, who will use the data for good." She moves into the kitchen and settles on one of the stools for the island.

"It's just a question of when you wanna head down there, flight-wise. Unless you want to drive it--the coast drive's pretty nice." August pulls out the milk, cocoa powder, and sugar. "Hannah's baby-daddy, Xavier, he manages a lot of B&Bs and the like. Could easily find you a nice spot to bunk for a while, get a reduced rate." He makes a face at Eleanor mentioning her house burning down, but he can't deny it's a good precaution to take.

He sets the milk to heating, folds his arms and looks at Alexander. "So. This book." He arches an eyebrow at Alexander. "It did come from that trip we took? The one I can barely remember?"

"Thank you," Alexander says, again. "There's actually someone you should meet. Yule Duchannes? He's working on creating some way to preserve what we learn. Maybe you'd like to talk to him about including your work in the archive. When, and if, it happens." He slinks into the kitchen and starts holding up a wall, hands in his pockets. He nods, slowly, to August's question. "I think so. Check the frontispiece. It should have 'property of Alice Whitehouse' on it. If it does, it's what I'm looking for. I don't know how we got it. Or...Isabella got it. Or who else might have one. But it has to have come from Over There."

Eleanor looks between the two men with a curious expression. "Do you know how frustrating it is knowing you two went there and can't remember it? And can't tell me about it?" Color her vibrating with frustration at how that damn memory sucking Asylum operates. "So much lost data," she sighs.

She blinks at Alexander. "Duchannes? One of Natalia's brothers?" The woman was only two years ahead of her in school. She knows the family, though not overly well. It's a long way between the trailer park and Spruce Street. "Let me know when it gets underway."

August makes a low sound at the mention of storing information safely. "I was thinking about something like that. You know that soup we got? Seems like we should be able to...make some things that can do that too. Not sure how, but..."

He gets to whisking the milk as it heats, pulls down cinnamon and allspice from the spice rack. With a sympathetic glance at Eleanor, he says, "At least as frustrating as it is for me to remember going into a hospital morgue." He shudders involuntarily. "Which is the only way I know we went--that, and 'Ben Serching'. That's the name Easton's message was signed from." He rolls his eyes. Even They're capable of horrible puns. "I found the book the other day, when I was going through my jacket. Figured it was Ully or de Santos playing a joke, until I got your email." He pauses, narrows his eyes. "Yeah, I think that was the name on the bookplate. I didn't find anyone in the local listings when I checked." He arches an eyebrow in an invitation for Alexander to elaborate.

Alexander offers a nod to Eleanor. "He's the new medical examiner. He used to go to school with me. He's," there's a long pause, "very bright. And kind. And curious about all of this. He came to it late." He looks down at his feet. "And imagine how frustrating it is for us, Eleanor. I hate...I hate knowing a part of my life is gone, and I don't know what happened there, or whether it, it--" he stops himself with a click of teeth. Shakes himself. "No. It's fine." A deep breath, before he looks up again towards August. "Alice was committed to the Asylum when she was about eighteen. She's been there ever since. Her twin, Violet, was a friend of mine. We were going to rescue Alice together - but Violet and her lover disappeared. They went Over There, looking for Alice." A frown. "I think she found her. But one book tells only part of the story. I need more. If they exist."

Eleanor props her chin in her hand and ponders the entire situation. "Are we sure it's something They do to make you forget? Or is it your brains trying to protect you from something you saw over there? Like selective amnesia?"

August starts to say something in response to Eleanor, stops. "I was talking with a guy--Joe Cavanaugh, new in town. He said he thinks our minds aren't meant to know about that place, so they choose to forget, and we damage ourselves when we try to wring it out." August sounds a little concerned about that. How much has he tried to remember, and what damage has been done?

He shakes his head, whisks the cocoa up. It's a deep, rich smell, light on the sugar. A little longer to cook the cocoa powder in properly, then the mug's in Alexander's hands. "Well, I've been reading it, trying to see if there's a code in it anywhere. Notes, that sort of thing. Then I was going to," a surreptitious glance, "read it, too. Happy to hand it off soon as I'm done with all that."

"I don't know," Alexander admits, with a shake of his head. "The doctor who used to work there. She has forgotten everything, too. It feels like trying to remember hurts her. I've tried not to...not to push it too far. My mind hardly needs more...damage," he admits, with a tired little chuckle. Then he frowns at August. "You shouldn't. Read it. There's likely to be," a longer pause, "unpleasant things caught up in it. With mine, I saw Alice and Violet meet. And then Violet was screaming, over and over again." He shivers. "And there was hate. Don't...you don't have to put yourself through that, August." He glances at Eleanor. "He shouldn't."

"Is that a wise thing, August? Remember the book in Portland? The one that laid out Hyacinth and de la Vega? Using psychometry on things from Over There is never a good idea." Eleanor frowns, concerned about him doing that. "You only just got over whatever zotted you when you healed someone."

She considers the damage trying to remember might inflict. "Might want to get a CT or an MRI. August should have some on file from the military hospital, you could compare them, see if there are any changes?"

August gives Alexander a stubborn, surly look, folds his arms. His expression doubles down when Alexander brings in Eleanor for backup. He takes a steadying breath. "And why should you be the one taking that all on yourself? Aren't you first in line saying we should be spreading out our power use so we don't wind up with any one person doing too much?" He also flicks Eleanor a look of not betrayal, precisely, but certainly he wants there to be a flag on this play. 'Illegal support of friend in thorny argument. Five yard penalty, automatic first down.'

The idea of comparing actual brain damage distracts him briefly. "You could make a book out of the MRIs they took of me," he says, tone dry. And, of course, getting a new MRI for a comparison means, why yes. He rubs at his temples. Unfortunately, it's a good idea.

"Because it was my promise. Not yours, August." Alexander's voice is quiet, but firm. "I promised I'd help Violet find her sister. I'll do whatever it takes to do that, even if Violet is..." he trails off, blinks a couple of times, rapidly. "Even if Violet isn't...even if I can't find her, again. I can at least find Alice. Wherever she is. I don't think she's in the Asylum anymore." He frowns, but also has to admit to Eleanor, "I don't know if that's ever been done. To compare. But it might be useful. If you had the chance."

"Would you feel ok with me reading it?" Eleanor asks August pointedly. She has the ability, if not as much power behind it as he or Alexander do. "Consider that before you do something that could hurt you. Would you be all right with me doing it. If not? Well, maybe rethink doing it."

Also fortunately for August, these days you do not need to go to a hospital for an MRI. Imaging companies now exist who do nothing but imaging.

August looks chastised for about two seconds. Then he takes to studying a spot on the floor. "I would never tell you to not do something you wanted to do. I'd tell you if it worried me, and why. But you're your own woman, and I have to trust your instincts about yourself. Even if sometimes they might be wrong. Second guessing you...that isn't something I want to do. Your decisions are your own. They have to be."

He clears his throat. "I understand where you're coming from, then, but," he raises his eyebrows, "that doesn't mean you need to be the only one to look at it. We might find different things. Or, maybe not," he shrugs, "I'm not always clear on how these things work. At any rate, it's at the cabin. I'm going by tomorrow, I'll fetch it, and I can hand it off."

Alexander sighs. "He's right," he tells Eleanor, quietly. "I can't stop him. And if he really wants to put shit in his head he doesn't need to, then he's a grown adult, and that's his choice." Which Alexander disapproves of, that much is clear. But it's also clear that he's too tired and too...something...to argue about it. Instead, he nods, slowly. "All right. I was just trying to spare you the need. But either way, if you're willing to hand it off to me when you're done, I'd appreciate it." A pause. "And thank you. For the knife. It's beautiful."

Eleanor presses her lips into a tight line. She can't argue with his logic. "Dammit, Roen, you are too clever for your own good. But fine. Just make sure I'm there when you do it, in case something happens, ok?"

August relaxes when they both accept his reasoning. ...if not without a barb here and there. His obstinance shifts to fond resignation. "I appreciate the concern. Don't think I don't. And I'll be the first person to say 'you told me so' if it's that bad. And," he nods at Eleanor, "I'll make sure you're with me."

He smiles about the knife. "Glad you like it. I'll ah," he rubs the back of his neck, "give the VA a call tomorrow, get my MRIs sent down. See if there's a place that's not Addington Memorial I can get one done."

"It needs to be here in Gray Harbor, and preferably by someone who stands out," Alexander suggests. "Trying to get anyone outside of Gray Harbor to perceive these things is...difficult. And the records might be altered or destroyed." He sighs. "You might ask some of the local doctors. The ones in the know. I don't know if Dr. Stevenson would...but someone no doubt will find the idea intriguing. Maybe even a nurse, if they're willing to...bend things."

He grimaces. "You should definitely have someone there, if you're reading it. And maybe some alcohol. For after. I'm sorry." The apology seems to be offered in advance rather than anything else.

"Or possibly someone in Portland. There is a thin spot there and a community of Glimmerers. They may have someone who works at one of those imaging companies, which are all over the place now in the big cities," Eleanor points out. She gives Alexander a tight smile. "I'll have a bath bomb and a cider at the ready for him." Best GF ever.

August smiles at Eleanor, moves to rub her back. He nods at Alexander. "I only know one doctor with the Art, but he's a GP and not at Addington Memorial. He could get me a referral but I'd still be going somewhere else." Eleanor's idea of Portland has him looking thoughtful. "That might be worth a shot, if there's no one around here." A frown for the damaged records, then a shrug. "If they are, they are. Can't hurt to look, though. I was going to get it all brought up anyways." ...possibly to see this GP who's not at Addington Memorial.

Alexander doesn't trust anyone who isn't in Gray Harbor. That much is clear in the set of his jaw and the suspicion and doubt in his eyes. He rolls his shoulders in a shrug. "I don't know that it's ever worked. To involve an outsider in anything like this. But if you trust this person. Then that's who you need to see. Let me know how it goes?" He pushes himself off of the wall, and frowns. "I shouldn't bother you both further. I just...wanted to thank you. For coming to the birthday party. And being good friends." A smile flickers, before he starts to sidle his way towards the door.

"Thank you, Alexander, for being someone we can come to with this stuff. It means a lot, having a community of people who get it. People who can help figure things out together," Eleanor says with a smile.

August follows Alexander to the door. "I'll be careful with who I let stuff me in an MRI tube, don't worry." An easy promise to make since he doesn't relish the idea anyways. Going to need some meds for that.

"You're welcome. I'm glad you like the knife. And, sorry it ah, upset you like that, that wasn't what any of us wanted." He gives Alexander a gentle smile. "Oh, one second." He heads back into the kitchen, fetches a Branch & Bole travel tumbler and empties Alexander's cocoa into it. He brings that back to Alexander at the door. "There. Thoma's idea, we only have a dozen of them." The interior image is a lovely woodblock print of a forest, stark black on ivory paper.

Alexander's smile falters at the mention of his reaction, and he makes a quick shake of his head. "No. I overreacted. It was a nice thing to do. It was stupid." He takes the thermos, ducking his head. "Sorry. This is beautiful. And the cocoa is nice. Thanks. I'll return the thermos." A smile that goes beyond August to Eleanor and encompasses both of them. Then he turns and walks back into the slushy cold. "Don't die, you two."