2021-06-09 - My Decompensation is Epic

It's been a pretty rough couple of weeks in the Roen household. First August comes back from a Dream killing plants instead of growing them; then everyone starts having vivid nightmares; now, he's gone to check out that tower and come back shot in the head. Near his head. Whatever--it was a headwound, it looked nasty. Joe healed it up some, so at least there's no need for a trip to the hospital to sprinkle on top of this fail sundae.

Which means now is the perfect time to talk to Eleanor about...well, the bramble cage out back of Branch & Bole. Also his drunken walk through the Veil.

He's prepared himself: he's curled up on the futon with some tea, in his OSU sweats, cat on his lap. As calm and collected as he can get himself.

Ellie has been busy herself, though in a completely opposite manner, working on battening down everything ever for the impending storm. She just has a feeling this is tied to that box she read from that Veil ship, and she is extremely concerned. She's got her house in order, storm shutters installed over all the windows, outdoor furniture and decor stowed away in the garage, along with the porch swing. Since she won't be there, she's also flipped the gas shut off valve, and turned the electrical off at the fusebox. The OCD woman is taking no chances on that lovely Craftsman burning down. She's also taken care to put all her research not in filing cabinets into the floor safe, which is water and fire proofed. All family photos and other important papers and documents were put into the washing machine's basin, which is completely water proof and this safe from flooding.

Espresso Yourself already has steel shutters that pull down over the glass windows at closing time, so that's not a tough thing to take care of. Electronics and paperwork have been stored in the store's safe as well.

The cabin? It's a tougher thing to secure. Large odd shaped windows and a crapton of outdoor animals do not make for easy securing. She's been putting sandbags around the animals shelters and putting haybales in so they can get elevation if needed. She comes inside with her arms loaded down with the pair of teacup piggies, because those little ones are not climbers and she worries they'll drown if it floods. She's in denim overalls with a tee shirt and a straw hat, her hair in braids, looking like a farm girl.

"How's your head?" she asks quietly, depositing the pigs on the futon with August. They squeal and snuffle and snuggle up to him for warmth.

August mmmms, gives each of the pigs a rub. "It's okay you guys." Big words for a guy who got almost shot in the head and who's lived through enough of these storms to know how they go. (Badly.) He dredges up a small smile for Eleanor. "It's getting there, thanks to you and Joe." He pats the futon. "C'mere. I..." He sighs, glances away. "I need to talk to you about some things." He winces. "I've not been the brightest bulb in the box lately."

"Clearly that head wound is more serious than I thought if you're admitting you've been an idiot lately," Eleanor says with a grin that clearly says she's joking. She sits down, tossing her hat onto the coffee table and scooping a pig into her lap to give chin scritches to. Then she looks askance at her husband.

"All right, lay it on me. What did you do, AJ?"

August rubs the back of his neck. "Yeah." He has a sip of tea, divides petting between cat and piglet. This seems to get him to where he can talk again.

"Ah, so first, I'm sure you noticed that...the part where I can't work with plants isn't just with my Art." He glances at her, focuses on Latte. "It's anything, at all. I found that out when I helped Conner Hawthorne plant something he got in a Dream. The pieces he planted grew, but mine died." He clears his throat. "We, ah, planted them out back of the shop. In the greenbelt." He stops there, looks at her directly. "It grew into a sort of...fig tree, and a kind of elk...wood...dog thing. I had Finch build a sort of cage around them, for now, but they're not...doing anything. That I can tell." He fidgets with the zipper of his hoodie, waits for what he knows is coming.

"You WHAT!?" Eleanor exclaims, with an astonished expression on her face. "August! You know how bad it is to even bring something back from over there," says the woman with the sealed box portending doom. "And you know what happens when you planted something from here over There. You had to realize this was going to be bad, possible apocalypticly bad! Why would you do that? And why would you do it without me there for backup!?" That last part has a wounded tone.

The piglet in her lap squeaks indignantly as the scritches stop suddenly and the deliverer of such pettings seems agitated.

August winces. He's aware that both of them don't exactly practice what they preach about bringing things back, which means there's no reason to point that out to her. (He can follow that conversation to it's logical conclusion: Yes but I didn't plant it at the coffee shop! ...which, fair. She locked it in a safe.)

The harder part for him, though, is about how he didn't bring her with for backup. He bites his lip, gently strokes Coltrane to reassure him. It's Eleanor he looks at, though. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking--I've been doing a lot, of not thinking. Just...acting, because I feel trapped by how I don't know what I'm gonna do if I can't get back what I lost." He swallows. "And seeing those dead figs..."

His voice dies. He looks away. It seems like he might not continue--but oh, he sure does. "I ah, went into my greenhouse and saw everything dead. I had Finch take care of it, but...later I drank most of a bottle of Maker's Mark. When I realized it meant I couldn't work with plants at all. And I walked to Itzhak's garage through the Veil. He got me sobered up."

Eleanor stares at him. Just stares, wide-mouthed, for a long moment. "There are so many things so wrong with all of that," she mumbles. Then she sighs and slides over to him, ousting the pigs from their laps and wraps her arms around him. "We're going to fix this, the thing with the plants. I know it's hard to be patient when it's something so dear to you, love. But right now, we have worse things to deal with. This storm is going to be really, really bad. I don't know what we can do for some of the animals short of letting everything in the cabin and upstairs into the loft in case of flooding. And that doesn't seem practical at all."

August braces himself, but the tongue lashing he's rightly earned is nowhere to be found. He blinks, nonplussed, as Bessie and Coltrane wind up on the futon next to them. Well, he has no complaints; he pulls Eleanor in and curls into her. He refuses to feel sorry for himself when he's the one who fucked up, but God, the temptation is there.

"I know, and I'm sorry--God, Ellie, I'm sorry I didn't think of that. Or of you, or anyone but myself." He grips her tight, like he's afraid she might disappear. "I'm not gonna ask you to forgive me. Just...to let me try to do better by you."

He clears his throat. Well, she's right. They have way bigger problems. "I figure we can dig some trenches. Direct the water flow as best we can. We're clear of the river, so unless it's really bad," which, admittedly, it might be, "we should be okay. Mostly." This is an easier thing to focus on. Safer. "And I'm not above just using Glimmer to take care of it."

Eleanor just holds him and strokes her fingers through his hair. She understands him, painfully so. She's been the person who's abilities hurt someone. She was a child at the time, but that hole is still there inside of her. "I think I can use Glimmer to board up the windows if you can get me enough boards." Normally it'd be tough to get them up but when you can do that and slam nails in with a thought? Yeah, way easier.

"The Spruce house and the coffee shop are all prepped as best as they could be. No accounting for neighbors not being responsible though." Nothing like someone's picnic table flying from their yard into your house, you know? "We're probably more at risk from the winds than the flooding, you're right. Any trees too close to the cabin we need to clear?"

August mmmms, low and thoughtful. Yes...this is an easier conversation. 'How to not get obliterated by a storm.' The rest, well, it'll have to wait.

"Yeah, I can get someone to bring us a load. I think Erika said her mom has a bunch extra from the last storm." He hates to think about trees which might come down, but it's necessary. "Probably the spruce to the east. Unless you wanna try to make the root system bigger. Otherwise it's a risk, it never grew very deep. The rest..."

He can't risk actually doing anything, but checking them, that's something he can do. August feels along the web of plants around the property, checking for weak spots. "Some branches that need to come off one of the maples." A pause, then, "And there's a hemlock that we should probably take down."

He tries not to hate himself for it. If he were himself, he'd just shore them up, grow them right. But, no. They have to do this the ugly way.

"Ok, I'll bolster the spruce and you can point me at the branches that need to come down. We can use the hemlock for firewood in case the heat goes off, so it won't go to waste," Eleanor reassures him. Then she pulls back just a touch. "There's other things we need to talk about, you know," she begins. "I turned 37 in January. I can hear a clock ticking, AJ. If we want a family, we're going to have to start it soon."

August nods to all of that, methodically stroking Latte's back. He stills when she pulls back, blinks at the 'other things'. Looking aside, he coughs a laugh. "Do you know how few women would wanna talk about having kids with a guy who just admitted to doing something like taking a drunk walk through the Veil?" He's nervous, excited, wary. "I figured that set the time table on anything along those lines back a few months at a minimum."

"I figure if you're going to continue being an idiot in regards to Them and There, I'd better get myself knocked up sooner than later to make you think twice before making bad decisions." Ellie smirks. "Or so if you get yourself smote by your own bad ideas, I won't be alone." She props her elbow on the back of the futon and her fist against her temple, looking at him seriously.

August winces, reaches out to stroke Eleanor's face. "Oh hon, I don't--" He swallows. "I don't want you to want kids as an insurance policy against me being a jackass." He thinks better of saying 'because it might not work'. "I want you to want them because you want a family with me, and think I'd make a, well...not completely awful father."

He sighs, looks down between them. "I want kids with you. I absolutely do. So if what you mean is you want me to knock it off so we can get down to business then...okay." He nods, looks her in the eye again. "I will."

"That is exactly what I mean," Eleanor says with a smile. "I want to be a mom. I have the itch. And I want to make beautiful babies with you, AJ." She leans in to boop his nose with a fingertip. "Hopefully that's incentive to be wiser in your choices?"

"They're gonna need your genes for that, not sure how beautiful mine would make 'em." If his head weren't still throbbing, he'd nip at Eleanor's finger; as it is, August settles for taking her hand and squeezing it. "It's plenty." He kisses her palm, sighs into it. "I guess I need to heal up faster so we can get started on that."

"You know it's like, insanely sexy that you don't realize how handsome you are. Maybe that's a good thing. I married up, I don't want you to realize that," Eleanor teases. "Let's get you healed up, and get us through this storm, then we can start a family."

"'Married up'?" August's eyebrows skew; his tone echoes this expression of doubt. "Baby I think you need to look in a mirror a little less critically." He holds his thumb and index finger together. "Just, a little less." He sighs, rests his forehead on her shoulder. "Yeah. Chop wood, carry water. Lemme call Erika, about the boards. Maybe make you some lunch, yeah?"

Outside, the wind is picking up; nothing bad at the moment, just enough to make the trees sigh and the wind charms ring. By nightfall it'll be howling. In the morning there'll be rain and more wind.

But for now, there's time.

"I can handle the trees and chop the wood," Ellie insists. She doesn't hold the axe in her hands, mind you. Or well, mind her, her mind? She's become terribly strong in the mover art. "You call Erika and work on lunch, nothing to strain you. Even a graze is still a headwound," she chastises.

"Okay, okay," August says, reluctant. This entire 'headwound' thing is getting old. He grips Eleanor's hand, sighs. "I love you." Yet before he can do anything like kiss her, Latte nips his hand.

He starts, frowns at her. "Hey." She licks him, half-turns over in his lap. There will, it seems, be no making out just now. "Looks like the bottomless pit is hungry too."