2020-05-18 - Dumb Decisions

Ellie covered a manager shift at the shop. She really needs a third part time manager that can cover those two morning and two evening shifts her regular managers are off for. She's begun looking into whether she has the budget for that but, for now, she parks her trusty old Honda Element in the driveway of her Spruce Street Craftsman and climbs out. She picked up a pizza on the way home, and a six pack of bottled craft brews, and she opens the door with a cheerful, "Honey, I'm home!"

August's head hasn't taken kindly to Megan's fix for the black hole that They so kindly slapped down to hide his memories of the Asylum. First there was the nausea, then the vertigo, then the time spent on Eleanor's kitchen floor. Ruiz showed up and got him onto the couch, made him some tea. At least, he thinks Ruiz did that. He has a text conversation which suggests it was. But maybe he did it himself.

He's now lying curled up on the couch, tea drank, wrapped in a shearling blanket, half-asleep. The pain's eased off a little, but light and sound are still inadvisable, so he's enjoying Eleanor's policy of covered windows.

He groans and hides his head under the blanket when she calls out. But even without him doing that, Eleanor catches a glimpse, and that glimpse is telling: his Glimmer's shrouded. Eclipsed, somehow, a mere flicker of what it usually is; a smoldering ember.

Eleanor nearly drops the pizza on the floor at the sight of him. She bobbles the box but manages to get it under control again. "AJ? What the hell happened!?" she asks, shocked, as her Spirit sense can read his dimmed light at a glance. She sets the pizza on the dining table and moves over to him quickly.

"I'm fine," August says under the blanket. To Eleanor's shaping power the physical issues are minimal--nothing beyond the usual she'd expect from a migraine. Exhaustion, but he hasn't been sleeping well. His Aspects themselves seem unaltered. The core of his Art, though, that's what's taken a hit. Poured out, or burned down.

Reluctantly he uncovers his face. "I might have done something really stupid," he admits.

Ellie moves to the couch and sits beside him, reaching a hand to gently rub it over his back. "You? Something stupid? Isn't that usually stuff we leave to Ignacio or Itzhak, love?" she asks with a faint smile, but worry in her green eyes. "What did you do?"

August makes a low sound, both a grunt of acknowledgment and appreciation for the back rubbing. He leans into her hand, sighs. "Yeah."

After a few seconds of silence, he says, "You know how we couldn't remember the Asylum? We just knew we went, but didn't know what happened?" His gazes shifts out over the room as he pulls things together to recount. "A girl showed up in town saying she could reverse that. Fix it. But it'd damage our Song for a while. Joe Cavanaugh, he agreed to it. Confirmed he remembered...something. Presumably the right things. And sure as hell, his Art's like this. All, turned down." He grimaces, swallows. "Isabella let her do it too. de la Vega and Alexander declined. I..."

He shuts his eyes. "I wasn't going to. But I haven't been sleeping good since that Dream, and she told me something that kind of hit home. That leaving something they did in my head was maybe not a good idea." He opens his eyes again, meets Eleanor's. "Sounded like a solid argument. So I let her do it."

Eleanor ponders his words for a long moment, her hand still moving gently across his back to soothe him. "That's assuming They did anything, and it wasn't just your own minds trying to protect you from the memories, AJ. But I agree, having them leave something in your head, even if it's just a mental block, is uncomfortable as hell to think about." She grimaces and bends to kiss his forehead. "What did you remember?"

"Yeah," August agrees to the first part. He curls himself up against Eleanor some, closes his eyes against the ice pick lodged somewhere behind one eye. "I think...maybe it was Them. But I'll have Ignacio take a nice good look at me once my head's not throbbing anymore."

A long, slow breath in and out. Then, "All of it." He winces. "We entered at the city morgue. There was a receptionist. And she took us down this path in what looked like a hospital, but it was a maze. I think..." He frowns, seems to give up. "Anyways. We saw Dr. Marshall, only...he's a corpse. And that guy you told me about, at the Paranormal Society meeting? I think we saw him too. We got to a rec room, for the patients. And some of them started fighting. One was shouting about Alice. Alice Whitehouse, and throwing books around. That's where we got those. The new Doctor, he didn't look...weird or anything. Not like Marshall. He's just a fucking corpse now." he stops here, exhausted by that much.

Eleanor shifts to pull his head into her lap and run her fingers through his hair in gentle strokes. "I should probably be writing this stuff down. Who knows how long you'll be able to even remember it. Not through Them, just that weird nature of things about Over There. How they fade with time and distance." She purses her lips as she ponders, then pulls out her phone and opens the recording app. "See if this might work. I doubt it but worth a try."

She toggles the red button. "This is Eleanor Lake with August Roen, May the seventeenth, twenty-twenty. Recording this conversation about The Asylum over There. What else did you remember August?"

August mmmmmms, glad to have his head in Eleanor's lap. The pain's still there, but her fingers in his hair makes it much easier to ignore. "Easton had a key. He got it from...someone who used to work there, I think he said, but it belonged to his uncle. That's how we were able to go. We went through the morgue, into a...mail slot, I wish I could say I was exaggerating. And we landed on all these bodies. There was a receptionist, she didn't approve of swearing." He proceeds to recount what he's already told Eleanor.

Then, "When the patients began fighting, they were using the Art. And the Doctor, he summoned a bunch of orderlies to contain them. But they must have not wanted us to see something, because they shoved us into a closet, and kicked us all out." He stops there, stilling like he's listening to something, or thinking carefully. "Signs. There were...when the receptionist led us to the rec area. Every hallway had these signs. Emergency...exit signs." He makes a mental note to commit that to memory.

Eleanor listens intently, with her green eyes glinting with eagerness to learn this information. The Asylum has been the one thing no one could crack, because no one who came back could recall more than the barest fragments about the place. This is a deluge of data that had been missing from her files. Her fingers continue to massage. "Interesting, And Isabella also remembers now, and Joe? Anyone else?" She's not surprised Alexander told the woman "no". Paranoia is how he and she have survived.

"Yeah. Isabella said there was a clock in that rec room, with hands pointing to locations instead of times. That tracks with what Ruby told us before she left--that it moves around, every...thirteen days, I think. So the clock might track where you wind up if you go out." August shifts, letting the process of recounting everything ease some of the pain and distract him from the odd, numb feeling that accompanies his mind and movement Art being so much quieter. he can feel Eleanor right here, her emotions and thoughts, but not so loud and precise and usual. The shape and content of the house are fuzzy, indistinct beyond the living room. And for a final kick in the nuts, his shaping is still quite sharp, if lacking its usual oomph.

Well. This was the price of knowing. "Not sure who else she's come across." He reaches an arm up to stroke her hair. "Sorry. I probably should have thought it through more, talked to you first."

"There was no way to know if you'd have the chance again, love. I understand what you did. Part of me thinks I'd have done the same. The other part of me is over in the corner with Alexander repeating 'nope nope nope'." Ellie chuckles softly. She ponders for a moment. "I wonder if someone like Lilith who is as strong as you in the Shaping Art could give you a boost, to compensate a bit for the diminishing? I can understand how it might feel. It is probably like I felt before I met you. I was suppressing my own Art out of fear. I remember how it felt to have so much less."

She hms softly. "Do you feel up to eating pizza? Or do you want some tea and toast?"

August shakes his head at the suggestion of being amplified. "No, it's okay. I...Isabella seemed pretty sure it'll come back on its own. And Megan herself said I could...sort myself out, somehow." He coughs a laugh. "Maybe this'll keep me from using it so much." They could all be so lucky.

He slowly sits up, face pinching. "Yeah, I think I can do pizza." He cups her cheek with one hand. "Seriously. I'm sorry. I should've...talked to you about it first." He looks down at the ring on her hand. "That's not the kind of decision I should be making without your input." Is he relieved she's not mad? A little. (A lot.)

"I think by the looks of things, you've been punished enough," Ellie says with a faint smirk. Also maybe a little bit of flexing at being stronger for the moment. She's not used to that. "Stay here, I'll bring the box and some paper towels over. We can skip dishes tonight." She kisses the top of his head and gets up to fetch the pizza box and a few paper towels, something she uses sparingly. "I guess beer is out tonight though? What do you want to drink? Do you need some excedrin?"

August mmms, ducks his head. "Okay." He manages a smile for her, leans back on the couch. "Yeah...probably no beer. Just some water and tea, I think." He rubs at his eyes. "Could probably use some excedrin, yeah. I didn't take any at first, wanted to be sure I knew...what was going on with me. I think my head didn't like having a big hole filled back in, even though getting rid of it was also a relief."

"So, it was like a hole? All Vorlon 'There is a hole in your mind?' Like they dug it out of you?" Yes, Eleanor just referenced Babylon 5 and even mimicked Ambassador Kosh. "Or more like something wrapped up in darkness that you couldn't see through?" she asks curiously. The pizza box and towels are set on the coffee table before she heads back into the kitchen for water and Excedrin.

August doesn't dive right into the pizza, though it smells good, which is a small relief. His appetite's not down for the count. He smiles, even chuckles at the Babylon 5 reference. (He's dated enough nerds to have seen it.) "Kind of, yeah. Like a...it was like a black hole. Good memories kind of, pulled in around it, and if I tried to get something from inside the singularity, I'd lose a good memory in its place. She blew it open so that won't happen." He wrinkles his nose, remembering that sensation. "It was...it's not so much that it hurt, just that it was disorienting."

He stops, stilling again in that way which suggests he's remembered something. "And she was being...followed. Megan, the girl, I mean."

Ellie hands him the pills and a glass of water, before she settles down beside him and gets herself a slice. "I can't imagine the administrators of that place can be particularly happy about someone undoing their coverup work. That girl is probably in serious danger. Has anyone thought about protecting her?" she asks before chomping down on her slice.

August accepts the bottle and glass automatically, expression still distracted. "Yeah," he says, because of course that makes perfect sense. The Asylum was putting black holes in their heads and who knew what else; obviously they'd come after anyone who was undoing that. "I told de la Vega about her being followed, maybe he went to warn her or look up the car." He rubs at his eyes. Well, his lack of sleep problem is maybe a thing of the past. He's going to sleep like a rock tonight.

He pops back some excedrin, has about half the glass of water. Now comes the pizza, just to wash it all down. He rubs Eleanor's leg. "I don't deserve you," he says around a bite.

"Funny, I often say I don't deserve you. I think that just means we totally deserve each other." Eleanor picks up her phone and stops the recording, remembering it was still on. She might keep that last little bit on there just for tough days, to remind herself of the great thing she has. "de la Vega is probably on it then. But it really makes you wonder, if they remove those memories, how many people in this town may have been in that place at some point, and just can't recall it?"

"Well that's just not true." August sniffs, gives Eleanor a sidelong look as he has more water. "It's one of your few instances of being very wrong." He waggles his eyebrows, makes a face and regrets it. Nope--too much forehead movement. So he settles for gripping her leg.

Ducking his head, he says, "Yeah. I bet there's way more than we know. People with the Art--maybe weaker ones--who just had no idea. And now they really have no idea." He has more pizza, chewing thoughtfully. "But if we bust that place, it might change Over There. Same way taking out the factory did. I'm kind of worried about...what'll happen."

Eleanor covers the hand on her leg with her own to squeeze it lightly. His grandmother's ring is on that hand, a connection to family, the past, and the future. "I agree. We've been learning a lot about how the things we do over there affect things over here, and in some ways, vice versa, like with Gohl and those trees you spliced, and the factory. There are always repercussions."

"Yeah," August murmurs. He leans into Eleanor, heedless of the potential danger of pizza all over themselves. The food's helping; his headache's gradually stepping back. The odd, muted feeling, that he'll just have to get used to. For now. "I mean, anything we do has effects, but with this--the Art--it's much bigger. Amplified. Like our intent's what really drives it, not just the what of what we did. The doing, the thought of doing. We redefined FCN as not existing, so now nothing of theirs works."

And what will happen to the patients of the Asylum if it's redefined into not existing? ...they needed to find that out, if they could, before going any further.

"And intent is really hard to control. I mean, it could wind up like Ghostbusters, with one person botching everything by thinking up the Staypuft marshmallow man instead of working on it as a group." Eleanor frowns at that. "I think with Minerva having left, maybe Ignacio and Alexander and I should work on setting up some information exchange for those in the know, see what we can hammer out."

August makes a low noise of agreement. "Intent's too close to fulcrum, really. Shifting it a little produces a lot of motion. No real way for fine control; it's too...plenary, for that."

He shifts on the couch tilting his head so he can look at her while he eats. "That's not a bad idea. Not a formal society, but a network of people. Maybe we use drawings for things, so the Veil doesn't degrade it so easy."

"A formal society is just painting a bullseye on the members backs. We need to be stealthy and sneaky about this. We need to keep of Their radar, but get the information out and shared and compiled. We need to be able to see any patterns, predict the dangers. This information about the Asylum is a good start." Eleanor smiles at August warmly. "You want some time in the hot tub tonight? I can get it turned on to heat up if you want."

August gives Eleanor a long look that's fond and pained at the same time. That's a concern he has, of course: her becoming a target. Not that he's not one, but he doesn't research the same way she does. He doesn't poke into records databases and draw the attention of lawyers and such. (Not on this side of the Veil, anyways.) Their mundane operators are more likely to notice her than him.

He regrets, for a half second, getting weakened like this. Regrets it intensely. How can he be there for her when she needs it now?

What he says is, "Yeah. Something stealthier, something easy to write off as a game or whatever."

He dredges up another smile, leans forward to rest his forehead against hers. "Yeah. Hot tub sounds good."

Eleanor catches that look from August and she wrinkles her nose at him. "I've been doing this research since I was thirteen, AJ. I know how to be safe about it. I'm more worried about you healing half the town and getting targeted. We both need to be careful. We have a future ahead of us, and I damn well plan to relish every moment of it." She kisses his forehead. "Be right back, I'll get the hot tub going." She gets up and heads through the kitchen to mud room and the door to the back yard.

August looks aside, feeling a little chastised. "I know," he says, voice low. "I--yeah." He clears his throat, nods at her when she says she's going to go get the hot tub fired up. He turns it over in his mind, what he wants to bring up. Megan sure had turned his life upside down.

Ellie isn't gone long, she could probably use the Art to turn it on from a distance if she wanted to, but she just talked about being careful, and that would be terribly hypocritical of her. She pauses at a cabinet in the mudroom to set out a couple of beach towels for them when they're ready for their dip. Then she's back for another slice of pizza. She fwumps back down on the couch. "So, how are you feeling, other than the Glimmer stuff? Any other side effects?" she asks curiously.

August watches her come back and dig into her pizza. It occurs to him this couldn't be a worse time to bring up that Dream. "That Dream I was in the other night," which he still hasn't entirely described to her, "it's been making it hard for me to sleep." Hence all his dawn walks on the beach. "It got me thinking, about...how we want to handle me being in the city." By the look on his face what he means is, 'or not being in the city, as it were'.

Ellie pauses with the pizza slice partway to her mouth and blinks at him. "You didn't say much about it. What was it about?" she asks quietly, reaching a hand over for one of his.

"You're, ah," August eyes her pizza, "eating." One corner of his mouth twists in a half-frown. "I'm definitely not describing it when there's food around. But," he looks down at her hand on his, runs his calloused fingers over her knuckles, "it got me stirred up inside, thinking about Bosnia. Especially Markale." He swallows. Saying the name is bad enough. "And when that happens, that's when I like to run off into the woods and hide." He looks up at her again. "But I can't do that to you. Even being at the cabin, without you, it's not...great." He shakes his head. "I just don't know what to do about it."

"I could spend more time out there. Though we'd be missing the hot tub I think, pretty quickly," Eleanor says with a small smile. "I could look at maybe renting out the house, Air B&B or something, if it's too much for us to juggle both places? I mean, I love this house, but not as much as I love you." Not all that different from another conversation they had recently, where he told her something similar.

August starts to say, "I don't--" then immediately stops himself. He grips Eleanor's hand a second. "This is your place. That you made yours, that you're...comfortable in." He reaches up to set a hand on her neck. "It's not too much to juggle. And I don't want to ask you to do the juggling instead." He studies her a bit. "I was thinking of starting up therapy again. Regularly. See if I could get past...not living in town. Or at least get to the point where this kind of thing doesn't push me so hard."

Eleanor presses her cheek into his palm and looks at him with sincere eyes. "Therapy might help, it might not. I just want you to know if it comes down to it, this is just a house, August. I carry the memories of my life in it with me, wherever I go to make new ones."

"It might. It also might..." August bites his lip. "Stir things up. I just figured I should let you know, so if it does, you can help me keep an eye on it." He runs a thumb over her lips. "Maybe, but I'm not going to let what happened to me drive where we make that home. I won't do that to you." He leans in, kisses her forehead. "Let's soak, yeah?" And once their food's settled, he can tell her about that Dream.

Okay. Maybe that'll wait until tomorrow morning, over coffee.