'it was the beginning of the end' if they could see her now, what would the handful of AO3 users that had commented on her fanfics think with as cheesy an opener as that?
[Butler for a day doesn't feel like it'll be all that different from normal, but the aches in her arms and back tell her not to sass him, even if she knows he wouldn't revoke the offer -- only in jest, maybe. She'll take it and for once not feel too guilty.
Last night was such a failure. This one was shaping up to be pretty damn good, even if her initial test of the water after removing her clothes has her hissing out a series of swears and jumping back. It echoes weirdly despite her attempt to be quiet, the wide, empty area taking up the sound with an eagerness that almost startles her more than the chill of the water. Ryder stills, listening hard for anything that wasn't abandoned building or nature that was happy to ignore her. Wouldn't that be an embarrassing way to die... Imagining Teo coming down to find her chewed up, naked body makes her grimace. She acknowledges that half the reasons for it are stupid.
She shakes her head and eases herself in, this time biting down on her lip to stop further complaints. Phew. Okay. Now comes the actually good part of scrubbing every inch of herself without a care for rationing, massaging and scratching shampoo into her hair, and after bracing herself, dunking completely underwater and shaking her head back and forth to pretend she's some mythical sea creature, equally dangerous as she was beautiful. When she surfaces, she imagines she looks more like the swamp goblin she often feels closer to. Well, at least she smells fucking great. Like vanilla. Ryder's mostly adjusted to the temperature, but all the same, she doesn't want to linger too long and have Teo worry enough that he unexpectedly checks on her. As much as she trusts him, that might still make her want to die. Less inclined to put her dirty clothes back on immediately -- comparatively fresh as they were, coming from the apartment -- Ryder makes her way back tightly wrapped up in the bathrobe and slippered instead of dressed. It doesn't feel quite as soft as it was when she was fully dry, but it's still definitely something to be appreciated.
She's still happily running a hand up and down the opposite sleeve as she comes upon the door to their room, and only stops to reach for the knob, pause, and give a soft knock before creeping in. Teo's smile is returned with a lopsided one of her own before she unceremoniously drops her bundle of clothes, towel, and products onto the floor.]
Hey.
[And now...! To flop facedown onto the other half of the bed, letting herself enjoy it for a bit before moving on to that whole wine plan. Mmm, pillow.]
Bummer I can't -- shave this grown out bit. [Ryder pushes herself up to a kneel and runs her fingers through what was once a shorn patch of her hair. She'd thought about trying it with the disposable razor back at the apartment, but it seemed hard to do on her own. More importantly...] Do you need -- comb yet?
[And then he promptly drops back down, laughing a little as she flops face down onto the bed. He breathes in deep.
Vanilla. Like a cake, or sugar cookie. He almost says something, but he thinks, coming from him, "you smell nice" wouldn't be the most welcome. Or maybe she'd shrug it off, but he'd still feel embarrassed having to explain what he really means.
He looks her over, her grown-out hair, when she sits up a bit. She looks fine to him, but this is what he saw when he first met her. The part-grown-out look is her. But he understands a change to feel more comfortable.]
Haven't combed... not yet... [He supposes he should before it dries.]
Would offer to... help with... shaving it out... but I don't... want to nick you... [or be around if she gets nicked.] Could snip... with scissors... no one cares... anymore... about evenness...
[Hm... Yeah, given that she still doesn't know how he'd react if she bled around him -- or, more accurately, she could very well guess how he might react -- having him help may not be the best idea... It's a little disappointing. The counteroffer makes her scoff out a small laugh.]
I would care... But I -- guess I don't see myself -- so often.
[There was a mirror at the apartment, though, and another here. Would it really bother her? Slipping her fingers through the overgrowth again, she makes a soft, considering noise. Well, they had time to think. For now, she should retrieve that comb she'd found, lament the fact that she hadn't gotten two right away, that was kind of boneheaded of her, and trot back over to the bed. ]
If you let me -- sit behind you, I-I'll do it. Your hair's -- so long. Longer than mine ever was.
[He sits up properly as she walks off, curious as to her plan. He falters, some surprise on his face, and then the smile comes back, a little sheepish.]
It is... I think it... was at my shoulders... once... longer now...
[The remainder of his mouth presses. Then, he pulls his legs up to sit, kneeled, at the edge of the bed. He takes a shaky, steadying breath.]
[She'd be afraid of being stuck with one style after death... It was scary enough deciding to get a haircut as a living person.
Ryder scoots over, taking a moment to herself to curse the fact that either her robe is too restrictive or it doesn't cover enough. How to sit... Eventually she settles behind him with her legs crossed and the skirt of the bathrobe pulled across her lap. It leaves one of her legs pretty bare, but better to flash a thigh or her butt, should he face her again, than her dang labia. With a determined hum to herself, she refocuses on the task at hand -- the lifesized doll in front of her.]
Lemme know if I'm pulling.
[She's trying to be as gentle as possible, though, no matter if it means things are slow goings. Thank god they had conditioner, or Teo's hair probably would have been impossible to get through, after what seemed to be a longass time, now that she can get a comparison of clean or not. Not a nightmare, though. It's almost...soothing, running her fingers lightly through to lift a section to work on with the comb, separating little tangles and knots, then fingercombing again to appreciate the difference and ensure it doesn't need another pass.
Her voice is quiet, trying to match what her hands are doing.]
So you don't -- remember things. Not everything. But sometimes?
[He remembers it at his shoulders when he was different. He doesn't know when the growth happened. He is a little afraid to cut it for the very reason she thinks.]
I'll tell you... if you do...
[He feels nervous, but not afraid. He doesn't know what the worry is about, only the sense of butterflies without any beating heart. It's not that he thinks she'll tear his hair out. He doesn't know.
He relaxes as she works, his shoulders starting to ease down, his breath slowing. He lets his eyes close.]
Flickers... pieces... I remember... life... things before... but not... not me... not as well... [Something about that aches, but he keeps going.] Comes back when I'm... reminded... when things... feel right... My name... felt right...
... I don't remember... when things fell apart... I don't- don't remember... what I've... [He leaves that thought unfinished.] One day... I woke up... I was... confused... and... very lost... It took me a while... to figure out... how to do things... how to speak... and hunt... I had... a letter... in my pocket... It was all... I had... A blank head and a letter... like a full head and blank book...
[Were he alive, the slowing breath would cause a sense of panic to rise in her, but with him and the way his body loses some of that ever-present, necessary tension, she has to smile to herself. He found this relaxing too, she's almost positive. It fades a little as he continues to talk, but her hands don't slow. Maybe linger just a little longer during their final slip through his hair.
Blank head and a letter. Full head and a blank book. Opposites.]
Do you still -- have it? [He must, right? If she held onto something so pathetically for no reason, a link to his past was a more than worthy token. She chews at her lip a little.] I don't know how -- you did it. How you do it now. You think -- I'm amazing? I'm -- really glad...to be able to know you, even if you d-don't, um, know yourself. And I th -- hope -- um. ...I don't know.
[Even without looking, it wouldn't be hard to guess she's blushing, too flustered by that moment of trying to give voice to things that were usually just words in her head.]
[He's almost sorry when it stops. He wants to urge to continue, to tell her it's okay. But, that's pretty stupid. There's no reason for her to do that.]
[From weather, from blood, and hopefully from gunshots. He hasn't been shot since before he donned a disguise. It wasn't something he'd hoped would happen again.
Her words quiet him. Even if he's naturally quiet, the sentiment snuffs out anything he might've interrupted with. At least until she's done. She falters at the end, but that just warms him more.]
Of course... I think you're... amazing... You accepted me... right away... never even... questioned once... I don't know... how I woke... I don't know... what I'm doing right... but it was hard... until you... It's worth it now... There's something... to live for...
[Leather jacket. Hidden pocket. Always kept safe. She nods even though he can't see her, deciding to protect that jacket just as much as her book. It was a piece of him, and he was filled with as many possibilities as the idea of a blank page. Maybe even more -- a blank page is often talked about as intimidating. You can't return to a blank page once you start, and what if you made a mistake? What if you ruined it forever? What if you ran out of chances, and there was nothing you could do to go back?
But Teo is alive -- sort of. Every movement was a sentence, every pause to catch his breath an ellipsis. He didn't stall progress because he was progress, always evolving even through the mistakes. There was no stopping it. On top of that, he was kind, offering support in a way a page could never do without the imagination to prompt it. Even if it turned out that the person he was before all this was someone he didn't want to remember after all, it didn't change that the person he decided to be once he woke up went out of his way to help others. He wanted to give people like Ryder a chance to keep working on her own story.
His words bring her to blush even harder, and she starts twirling a lock of his hair like doing so might remind her to not read too much into that before she confuses herself. Problem is that she really likes reading, and even without digging all that deeply, the message is sweet as hell. Surface level is still enough to make her giddy.]
You accepted me first, dummy. But -- good. That's really good. I -- want you to live. I like this. Living with you.
[...But she should really get back to combing out his hair before it dries too much and makes it that much harder. At the same time, she doesn't want this to end too quickly... It's nice to be this close.]
[She paints him in poetry in the secret parts of her mind. If he knew, there'd be too many things to feel, so many things to say that he probably couldn't manage. How good she makes him out to be, yet he knows so little of himself, and worse, what he does know, the taste of blood in his teeth. How would he reconcile these versions of himself?
It's not something he needs to worry about yet. Right now, what he feels is the lightest winding of his hair. He wants to turn around and look at her. He doesn't want her to let go.
He almost points out that she's not the first person he's helped-- just the first person he's stuck it out with and who survived this world. She's the first person to write and so he wrote back. But that thought is interrupted.]
Cool...
[It might seem a flippant answer, but there's reverence in it. He holds those words like precious treasures.
She gets back to combing and he hums.]
That feels... really nice... Literally... can't remember... how long it's been...
[Since he was touched. At least, in a good way. His thoughts take a turn then.]
Ryder... is there... anyone you're... looking for...? Anything...?
[They'll make a habit of this, she decides instantly, and before she has the chance to stop the thought from coming out, head so full of ideas it leaks through, why couldn't it hold all these limes?]
You'll have to do me next. So I can -- see.
[Even with her memories intact, she can't remember the last time it happened, either. Not since she was a child and having someone comb her hair was less intimacy and more 'sweetie, look proper for this formal event'. Had she ever had something like this...? Had her mom ever thought about it, with all the other things she thought about letting Ryder experience that she'd missed out on? The thoughts dovetail nicely into Teo's question, whether he knows it or not.]
Um... My mom, maybe. I don't -- know if she's the kind to -- survive this. [Which hurts to say out loud, no matter how many times it had occurred to her. She wants to see her. If she wasn't out there, or had become something else, did she really want to know? Was it a cliffhanger to drive her crazy or a blank page to project hope onto?] She's -- all I really had. I guess I got -- some step-siblings out there, but I never really -- knew them.
[The first thing he thinks is that he shouldn't have asked. But, he doesn't want her to have to hide pain with him. He wants to know her. Maybe as much as he wants to know himself.
He forgot his life. But, in some ways, that spared him. He doesn't know this pain. He knows something is missing, lost, that it hurts, but now what. He doesn't have the details to full comprehend what, if any, wound is there. The survivors? They remember all of it.]
I'm sorry... I know that's... a lame thing... to say but... I hope it hurts less...
[With time. He hopes the woman isn't suffering.]
I guess... we have each other...?
[That also seems like a lame thing to say. He quickly moves on.]
Um... I'd be happy... to comb yours next... I'll try and... be careful...
[At first her only response is to give a short hum, but after thinking on it, she wants to give more than that. It wasn't Teo's fault that things were this way, and he'd probably wanted to give her an opportunity to go search for her.]
Yeah. [At least they had each other. She hadn't doubted that was enough for her until this moment, but what about him...? He had a letter -- it had to be from someone. If he knew anything about where that person was, would he want to leave? She really couldn't...begrudge him that, especially when she'd already told herself she was going to do what she could to help him remember. Trying to keep him exactly how he was when he clung to the flickers of the past he was able to get just so that things would stay like this would make her a crazy person. Yeesh.
So,] Maybe when we run out of things here, we can...head south. I went to school out of state. She might...still be there. I don't know.
[Probably not. But it would give them something to do and keep them going. As nice as living in the apartment had been and how they were ready to make the most if the hotel, now, it would be silly to think of it as something more than a vacation in a world like this. Maybe someday it would be normal again. Maybe others would have this, too. And then they could enjoy it as their life, simple as that.
She combs longer than she needs to, and eventually leans around the side to carefully get his bangs back to normal instead of pulled back. Ryder takes extra care not to touch his face or the ear she discovers has a piece missing as well. It's very strange to see this close, and while she's focused on not hitting against him with the comb, it's impossible not to look. She settles next to him, carefully swinging her legs over the side of the bed and maintaining as much modesty as possibly, and passes the comb over with a shy smile made all the more awkward by her biting her lip.]
Um. Here. I don't -- [She makes a noise, eyes flicking away while she resolves to speak.] ...Know. How to braid. So I can't.
[Not that he'd had a braid in the first place or brought it up as a possibility. Just another Ryder impulse.]
[He wants to draw her in. He wants to smooth her hair. He wants to apologize again which is the least stupid of those ideas. He holds back from it all.]
Worth a try... if you wish to... Can be like snowbirds... south for winter...
[He'd be more certain if he couldn't hear the notes of defeat in his voice. It doesn't mean much, to travel again. He has no connection here. He'll be safe, either way. His connection is to her. Whether she'll be safe staying or going is another matter entirely.
She starts to comb out the hair nearer to the front. He forces himself to be still, his breathing shallower. This is a little less relaxing, several different kinds of anxieties stirring to the surface. But she's careful and it's fine and it's still not all that bad.
When she stops, he looks to see her closer and turns her way. He takes the comb she offers and offers a small smile in return.]
It's okay... I don't either...
[With some of that ease returned, he gets to work, carefully combing bit by bit and untangling each piece by hand. Can't infect hair, he tells himself. It's okay.]
Not sure I've... done this before...
[Combing someone's hair that is. It's another sort of soothing to tend rather than be tended.]
[Did he like snowbirds...? She's not even sure she knows what one is. Maybe they were common where he was from and they could use that. Her mind still has it as background noise, as much as she tries to ignore it and turn the topic away. It gets easier the more she attends to him, but it isn't until she feels his fingers in her hair that Ryder can say the brainstorming goes quiet. She closes her eyes and focuses on not leaning into the feeling.]
Mm. It really does -- feel nice. Makes you understand -- dogs. Why they like getting pet.
[She wouldn't mind a pat on the head and a "good girl" either, but he doesn't need to know that. Or to think of her as some kind of pet -- though that'd be pretty funny. Kindly undead and his pet human, keeps her safe and happy, providing every want and need. It's their situation, but doesn't feel particularly 'them'.]
Besides, you have -- no choice. Have to continue. My arms -- are totally dead by now.
I was thinking... [His face scrunches, trying to pull up what he was actually thinking. It just sort of came out.] Older people...? From north... vacationing south... but... geese works...
[She seems to relax before his eyes. He smiles warmer, even though she can't see it. She makes him laugh again. Dogs, yes. It does make a lot more sense now.]
Your poor arms... Can't imagine... what that's like...
[His tone is teasing and he reaches an arm out past her head to waggle his fingers and add to the joke. Then he's right back to untangling and combing.]
[But she's young as heck. Definitely more of a goose.
She hears the joke in his tone, as ravaged by his wheeze as it is, and her smile broadens before she even opens her eyes to confirm what it is he's doing. She hadn't really been thinking when she said it, so it's lucky that he's Teo and taking it well. Then he's back to business and her grin settles down.]
Yeah. Not, like, meals. I have -- enough for maybe -- a week? If I stretch it. I wonder if -- I can, anymore. You made me spoiled.
[Another laugh from him. He denies nothing. Secret seventy. And secret goose. What a team.
He's glad she takes his joke well. But this is Ryder. Of course she would.
He hums. Then sighs.]
If I had... better control... I could hunt... for you too... but it's hard... [He already has to fight it with people. When it comes to his hunting, he loses composure hard and fast.] Maybe trapping... but I'm... not as good at that...
[He shakes his head and keeps up his work.]
I'll stay... while you rest... and when you're ready... I'll head out... and find more... I think you've... spoiled me more... anyway...
[It makes her happy to hear he'll be staying for a while, even if it's not like she'll be spending that time with him. Him having her back of course made her feel protected, but that feeling went deeper, somehow. It isn't just that he's keeping her from harm -- he just...made it safe. She doesn't know how to better describe it except for a calm warmth that filled her up inside, or like a -- a hug. A weird heart hug.
Ryder snickers out a laugh and shakes her head without thinking of the comb.]
What are you even talking about? You -- do everything for me. I'm just -- being a friend. Mostly. [...She hopes. She's not very experienced in it, which might be gleaned from her sudden awkward shift and how she pushes one if her sleeves up to scratch her arm, wanting for something to act as a fidget.] Um, I wanted -- to ask. Can you teach me? Bow and arrow. Um -- archery. That's it.
[The comb catches, but he manages to withdraw it before she flings it off. He huffs a little, though not without amusement, and goes about fixing what's been mussed up.]
I don't think... you understand... how much... that means to me...
[He leans a little bit past her, just so she can see him lift a brow at her before he settles back where he was.]
There's no one... like me... The other dead... don't even see me... I could forget... that I exist... [Sometimes he was afraid that he would.] The living... would shoot me... on sight... before I... found my disguise... And even then... people are... so scared now, Ryder... no one dreams... no one's happy... I just want to live... no one lives...
[He realizes his hands have stilled in her hair. There's a moment where he gets that awful feeling in his eyes so he squeezes them shut until it goes and returns to combing.]
You give me... everything... So... I'd be happy... to teach you... though I'm... just self-taught... myself...
[Her face is burning, embarrassed as she is by how hearing it makes that warmth in her heart go into overdrive. Ugh, she's disgustingly happy. It's terrible of her when she had so obviously hit on a point of contention.]
That makes me really -- happy.
[She waits until she feels the comb reach the end of a stroke, then peeks behind herself so she can safely lean back and against him. She's careful to nest her head on his right shoulder, for obvious, toothy reasons. Her voice, as much as the affection makes her want to burst, is a soft murmur, and she tries to speak evenly instead of her usual catching of words.]
When I told you I didn't know anyone like you before, it wasn't just about this. It was -- Y-you're the only friend I've ever had. No one ever really noticed or understood me before, but you make me feel like I'm mmmore. Like there can be more. I'm not the same as you, but I...know. How much it can mean that I'm here with you and you're here with me. You give me...days? I don't ever want to be without you now, you know.
[She smiles weakly to herself.]
I've imprinted on you like -- a baby duck. [Goose.]
[Happy. He makes her happy. She makes him happy. They might be the two strangest people in the world right now, for that. What better people to be? Though, his state of being alive is still in question.
She leans back and he freezes, which is stupid. But he can't help it, conflicting urges utterly paralyzing him. It's not safe... I'm so hungry... Please don't leave...
Her own words are no less vulnerable, no less paralyzing. More, she says, but he can't imagine her being less.]
Little duck... I'm scared... that I'll hurt you...
[He doesn't push her away. But, his hands lower down to brace on the bed. And a little bit to tangle his fingers in the covers.]
Not going anywhere... I won't... but I'm... afraid...
[She's so close. She's so warm. He can feel her pulse, he's certain of it.]
If you... wrap yourself... in a blanket... can I... hold you?
[He could hold her regardless, which is a strange feeling. There was only ever her mother to do it before, and the idea that anyone else might had always kind of...disgusted her. Even now if she considers it, it makes her want to shiver far more than the fact that Teo is frozen behind her. She's scaring him. He's afraid of himself because of her. She feels bad about that, and about how she doesn't feel as bad as she probably should, too busy reveling in the fact that he wants to hold her and she wants to be held by him. Ryder sits up again, which would be an even greater relief if he really could feel her pulse, with how his request made it pick up pace. Her breath shakes a little as she inhales, but her nod is firm.]
Yeah. Um, we -- should go to bed, then. You know. Spoons. [Falling asleep in his arms sounds like...a really good end to this good day. It was a little early, maybe, and would probably end up as more of a nap on her part, but it counts because she says it counts. Besides, the cozy feeling filling her up, the post-bath satisfaction, and her hard work are the perfect recipe for sleep. Getting to her feet, Ryder only wanders briefly to retrieve a bag of jellybeans that had long since become a conglomerate she'd have to unstick from itself to eat before returning to her side of the bed and giving an apologetic look.] Sorry.
[She should have taken the opportunity to eat when he was out hunting... Her determination required her to fix the bath problem, though. Brain said "you gotta". She holds the bag in her teeth as she wraps herself up in a blanket cocoon and flops down to feel embarrassed until he actually came to do that holding thing.]
[She's going to allow this. She's going to let him close, but in a way that feels safer, maybe. His own breath is shakey with nervous as he repeats after her.]
Spoons...
[Does this change what they are? Was he ever sure what they were? He can't recall if they'd even declared each other friends. He sets the comb aside whilst she slip away too, feeling the lack of her acutely. She apologizes and she shakes his head.]
Nothing to... be sorry for...
[She bundles up and lays herself down. He hesitates a moment too, his own embarrassment catching up at last, along with his nerves. But he lays down behind her, settling himself before he reaches out. His arm drapes over and pulls her in. He settles his forehead against the back of her and closes his eyes, just... feeling this.]
Don't... say anything... too nice... I'm... trying not to cry...
[Just don't expect Ryder to be able to define whatever this is, either. Friends for sure -- very strange friends. He's still her spooky godfather. They're roommates. She might even have the thought that if she saw characters acting like this, she'd say they were falling in love. But Ryder isn't one of the protagonists or charming side characters. She was that grumpy background npc with an interesting design and maybe a few lines here or there, but ultimately not someone worth remembering. Certainly not the type to be paired off except for in maybe one in two thousand fanfics. She's just Ryder and he's just Teo. For now, that's more than enough for her.
His comment brings out a breathless laugh that interrupts the anxious biting of her lip and trainwreck of thoughts that ultimately meant nothing. She squirms just a little, settling in more comfortably now that she has him there, before quietly breaking off a blob of jellybean to suck on while her fingers peeked out the blanket to cautiously run along his more spindly ones. So...very strange. She doesn't mind it.
Don't say anything too nice, huh?]
Prayer of the Selfish Child - "Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep, And if I die before I wake, I pray the Lord my toys to break So none of the other kids can use 'em. Amen."
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storywalks) wrote2021-11-17 08:42 pm
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Last night was such a failure. This one was shaping up to be pretty damn good, even if her initial test of the water after removing her clothes has her hissing out a series of swears and jumping back. It echoes weirdly despite her attempt to be quiet, the wide, empty area taking up the sound with an eagerness that almost startles her more than the chill of the water. Ryder stills, listening hard for anything that wasn't abandoned building or nature that was happy to ignore her. Wouldn't that be an embarrassing way to die... Imagining Teo coming down to find her chewed up, naked body makes her grimace. She acknowledges that half the reasons for it are stupid.
She shakes her head and eases herself in, this time biting down on her lip to stop further complaints. Phew. Okay. Now comes the actually good part of scrubbing every inch of herself without a care for rationing, massaging and scratching shampoo into her hair, and after bracing herself, dunking completely underwater and shaking her head back and forth to pretend she's some mythical sea creature, equally dangerous as she was beautiful. When she surfaces, she imagines she looks more like the swamp goblin she often feels closer to. Well, at least she smells fucking great. Like vanilla. Ryder's mostly adjusted to the temperature, but all the same, she doesn't want to linger too long and have Teo worry enough that he unexpectedly checks on her. As much as she trusts him, that might still make her want to die. Less inclined to put her dirty clothes back on immediately -- comparatively fresh as they were, coming from the apartment -- Ryder makes her way back tightly wrapped up in the bathrobe and slippered instead of dressed. It doesn't feel quite as soft as it was when she was fully dry, but it's still definitely something to be appreciated.
She's still happily running a hand up and down the opposite sleeve as she comes upon the door to their room, and only stops to reach for the knob, pause, and give a soft knock before creeping in. Teo's smile is returned with a lopsided one of her own before she unceremoniously drops her bundle of clothes, towel, and products onto the floor.]
Hey.
[And now...! To flop facedown onto the other half of the bed, letting herself enjoy it for a bit before moving on to that whole wine plan. Mmm, pillow.]
Bummer I can't -- shave this grown out bit. [Ryder pushes herself up to a kneel and runs her fingers through what was once a shorn patch of her hair. She'd thought about trying it with the disposable razor back at the apartment, but it seemed hard to do on her own. More importantly...] Do you need -- comb yet?
no subject
Hey...
[And then he promptly drops back down, laughing a little as she flops face down onto the bed. He breathes in deep.
Vanilla. Like a cake, or sugar cookie. He almost says something, but he thinks, coming from him, "you smell nice" wouldn't be the most welcome. Or maybe she'd shrug it off, but he'd still feel embarrassed having to explain what he really means.
He looks her over, her grown-out hair, when she sits up a bit. She looks fine to him, but this is what he saw when he first met her. The part-grown-out look is her. But he understands a change to feel more comfortable.]
Haven't combed... not yet... [He supposes he should before it dries.]
Would offer to... help with... shaving it out... but I don't... want to nick you... [or be around if she gets nicked.] Could snip... with scissors... no one cares... anymore... about evenness...
no subject
I would care... But I -- guess I don't see myself -- so often.
[There was a mirror at the apartment, though, and another here. Would it really bother her? Slipping her fingers through the overgrowth again, she makes a soft, considering noise. Well, they had time to think. For now, she should retrieve that comb she'd found, lament the fact that she hadn't gotten two right away, that was kind of boneheaded of her, and trot back over to the bed. ]
If you let me -- sit behind you, I-I'll do it. Your hair's -- so long. Longer than mine ever was.
no subject
Whatever's... best for you...
[He sits up properly as she walks off, curious as to her plan. He falters, some surprise on his face, and then the smile comes back, a little sheepish.]
It is... I think it... was at my shoulders... once... longer now...
[The remainder of his mouth presses. Then, he pulls his legs up to sit, kneeled, at the edge of the bed. He takes a shaky, steadying breath.]
Okay... We could... try that...
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[She'd be afraid of being stuck with one style after death... It was scary enough deciding to get a haircut as a living person.
Ryder scoots over, taking a moment to herself to curse the fact that either her robe is too restrictive or it doesn't cover enough. How to sit... Eventually she settles behind him with her legs crossed and the skirt of the bathrobe pulled across her lap. It leaves one of her legs pretty bare, but better to flash a thigh or her butt, should he face her again, than her dang labia. With a determined hum to herself, she refocuses on the task at hand -- the lifesized doll in front of her.]
Lemme know if I'm pulling.
[She's trying to be as gentle as possible, though, no matter if it means things are slow goings. Thank god they had conditioner, or Teo's hair probably would have been impossible to get through, after what seemed to be a longass time, now that she can get a comparison of clean or not. Not a nightmare, though. It's almost...soothing, running her fingers lightly through to lift a section to work on with the comb, separating little tangles and knots, then fingercombing again to appreciate the difference and ensure it doesn't need another pass.
Her voice is quiet, trying to match what her hands are doing.]
So you don't -- remember things. Not everything. But sometimes?
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[He remembers it at his shoulders when he was different. He doesn't know when the growth happened. He is a little afraid to cut it for the very reason she thinks.]
I'll tell you... if you do...
[He feels nervous, but not afraid. He doesn't know what the worry is about, only the sense of butterflies without any beating heart. It's not that he thinks she'll tear his hair out. He doesn't know.
He relaxes as she works, his shoulders starting to ease down, his breath slowing. He lets his eyes close.]
Flickers... pieces... I remember... life... things before... but not... not me... not as well... [Something about that aches, but he keeps going.] Comes back when I'm... reminded... when things... feel right... My name... felt right...
... I don't remember... when things fell apart... I don't- don't remember... what I've... [He leaves that thought unfinished.] One day... I woke up... I was... confused... and... very lost... It took me a while... to figure out... how to do things... how to speak... and hunt... I had... a letter... in my pocket... It was all... I had... A blank head and a letter... like a full head and blank book...
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Blank head and a letter. Full head and a blank book. Opposites.]
Do you still -- have it? [He must, right? If she held onto something so pathetically for no reason, a link to his past was a more than worthy token. She chews at her lip a little.] I don't know how -- you did it. How you do it now. You think -- I'm amazing? I'm -- really glad...to be able to know you, even if you d-don't, um, know yourself. And I th -- hope -- um. ...I don't know.
[Even without looking, it wouldn't be hard to guess she's blushing, too flustered by that moment of trying to give voice to things that were usually just words in her head.]
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Yes... Leather jacket... hidden pocket... It's always... kept safe...
[From weather, from blood, and hopefully from gunshots. He hasn't been shot since before he donned a disguise. It wasn't something he'd hoped would happen again.
Her words quiet him. Even if he's naturally quiet, the sentiment snuffs out anything he might've interrupted with. At least until she's done. She falters at the end, but that just warms him more.]
Of course... I think you're... amazing... You accepted me... right away... never even... questioned once... I don't know... how I woke... I don't know... what I'm doing right... but it was hard... until you... It's worth it now... There's something... to live for...
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But Teo is alive -- sort of. Every movement was a sentence, every pause to catch his breath an ellipsis. He didn't stall progress because he was progress, always evolving even through the mistakes. There was no stopping it. On top of that, he was kind, offering support in a way a page could never do without the imagination to prompt it. Even if it turned out that the person he was before all this was someone he didn't want to remember after all, it didn't change that the person he decided to be once he woke up went out of his way to help others. He wanted to give people like Ryder a chance to keep working on her own story.
His words bring her to blush even harder, and she starts twirling a lock of his hair like doing so might remind her to not read too much into that before she confuses herself. Problem is that she really likes reading, and even without digging all that deeply, the message is sweet as hell. Surface level is still enough to make her giddy.]
You accepted me first, dummy. But -- good. That's really good. I -- want you to live. I like this. Living with you.
[...But she should really get back to combing out his hair before it dries too much and makes it that much harder. At the same time, she doesn't want this to end too quickly... It's nice to be this close.]
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It's not something he needs to worry about yet. Right now, what he feels is the lightest winding of his hair. He wants to turn around and look at her. He doesn't want her to let go.
He almost points out that she's not the first person he's helped-- just the first person he's stuck it out with and who survived this world. She's the first person to write and so he wrote back. But that thought is interrupted.]
Cool...
[It might seem a flippant answer, but there's reverence in it. He holds those words like precious treasures.
She gets back to combing and he hums.]
That feels... really nice... Literally... can't remember... how long it's been...
[Since he was touched. At least, in a good way. His thoughts take a turn then.]
Ryder... is there... anyone you're... looking for...? Anything...?
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You'll have to do me next. So I can -- see.
[Even with her memories intact, she can't remember the last time it happened, either. Not since she was a child and having someone comb her hair was less intimacy and more 'sweetie, look proper for this formal event'. Had she ever had something like this...? Had her mom ever thought about it, with all the other things she thought about letting Ryder experience that she'd missed out on? The thoughts dovetail nicely into Teo's question, whether he knows it or not.]
Um... My mom, maybe. I don't -- know if she's the kind to -- survive this. [Which hurts to say out loud, no matter how many times it had occurred to her. She wants to see her. If she wasn't out there, or had become something else, did she really want to know? Was it a cliffhanger to drive her crazy or a blank page to project hope onto?] She's -- all I really had. I guess I got -- some step-siblings out there, but I never really -- knew them.
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He forgot his life. But, in some ways, that spared him. He doesn't know this pain. He knows something is missing, lost, that it hurts, but now what. He doesn't have the details to full comprehend what, if any, wound is there. The survivors? They remember all of it.]
I'm sorry... I know that's... a lame thing... to say but... I hope it hurts less...
[With time. He hopes the woman isn't suffering.]
I guess... we have each other...?
[That also seems like a lame thing to say. He quickly moves on.]
Um... I'd be happy... to comb yours next... I'll try and... be careful...
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Yeah. [At least they had each other. She hadn't doubted that was enough for her until this moment, but what about him...? He had a letter -- it had to be from someone. If he knew anything about where that person was, would he want to leave? She really couldn't...begrudge him that, especially when she'd already told herself she was going to do what she could to help him remember. Trying to keep him exactly how he was when he clung to the flickers of the past he was able to get just so that things would stay like this would make her a crazy person. Yeesh.
So,] Maybe when we run out of things here, we can...head south. I went to school out of state. She might...still be there. I don't know.
[Probably not. But it would give them something to do and keep them going. As nice as living in the apartment had been and how they were ready to make the most if the hotel, now, it would be silly to think of it as something more than a vacation in a world like this. Maybe someday it would be normal again. Maybe others would have this, too. And then they could enjoy it as their life, simple as that.
She combs longer than she needs to, and eventually leans around the side to carefully get his bangs back to normal instead of pulled back. Ryder takes extra care not to touch his face or the ear she discovers has a piece missing as well. It's very strange to see this close, and while she's focused on not hitting against him with the comb, it's impossible not to look. She settles next to him, carefully swinging her legs over the side of the bed and maintaining as much modesty as possibly, and passes the comb over with a shy smile made all the more awkward by her biting her lip.]
Um. Here. I don't -- [She makes a noise, eyes flicking away while she resolves to speak.] ...Know. How to braid. So I can't.
[Not that he'd had a braid in the first place or brought it up as a possibility. Just another Ryder impulse.]
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Worth a try... if you wish to... Can be like snowbirds... south for winter...
[He'd be more certain if he couldn't hear the notes of defeat in his voice. It doesn't mean much, to travel again. He has no connection here. He'll be safe, either way. His connection is to her. Whether she'll be safe staying or going is another matter entirely.
She starts to comb out the hair nearer to the front. He forces himself to be still, his breathing shallower. This is a little less relaxing, several different kinds of anxieties stirring to the surface. But she's careful and it's fine and it's still not all that bad.
When she stops, he looks to see her closer and turns her way. He takes the comb she offers and offers a small smile in return.]
It's okay... I don't either...
[With some of that ease returned, he gets to work, carefully combing bit by bit and untangling each piece by hand. Can't infect hair, he tells himself. It's okay.]
Not sure I've... done this before...
[Combing someone's hair that is. It's another sort of soothing to tend rather than be tended.]
Is it okay...?
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Most people would have said 'geese'.
[Did he like snowbirds...? She's not even sure she knows what one is. Maybe they were common where he was from and they could use that. Her mind still has it as background noise, as much as she tries to ignore it and turn the topic away. It gets easier the more she attends to him, but it isn't until she feels his fingers in her hair that Ryder can say the brainstorming goes quiet. She closes her eyes and focuses on not leaning into the feeling.]
Mm. It really does -- feel nice. Makes you understand -- dogs. Why they like getting pet.
[She wouldn't mind a pat on the head and a "good girl" either, but he doesn't need to know that. Or to think of her as some kind of pet -- though that'd be pretty funny. Kindly undead and his pet human, keeps her safe and happy, providing every want and need. It's their situation, but doesn't feel particularly 'them'.]
Besides, you have -- no choice. Have to continue. My arms -- are totally dead by now.
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I was thinking... [His face scrunches, trying to pull up what he was actually thinking. It just sort of came out.] Older people...? From north... vacationing south... but... geese works...
[She seems to relax before his eyes. He smiles warmer, even though she can't see it. She makes him laugh again. Dogs, yes. It does make a lot more sense now.]
Your poor arms... Can't imagine... what that's like...
[His tone is teasing and he reaches an arm out past her head to waggle his fingers and add to the joke. Then he's right back to untangling and combing.]
Do you have... food for tomorrow...?
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...Secret seventy.
[But she's young as heck. Definitely more of a goose.
She hears the joke in his tone, as ravaged by his wheeze as it is, and her smile broadens before she even opens her eyes to confirm what it is he's doing. She hadn't really been thinking when she said it, so it's lucky that he's Teo and taking it well. Then he's back to business and her grin settles down.]
Yeah. Not, like, meals. I have -- enough for maybe -- a week? If I stretch it. I wonder if -- I can, anymore. You made me spoiled.
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He's glad she takes his joke well. But this is Ryder. Of course she would.
He hums. Then sighs.]
If I had... better control... I could hunt... for you too... but it's hard... [He already has to fight it with people. When it comes to his hunting, he loses composure hard and fast.] Maybe trapping... but I'm... not as good at that...
[He shakes his head and keeps up his work.]
I'll stay... while you rest... and when you're ready... I'll head out... and find more... I think you've... spoiled me more... anyway...
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Ryder snickers out a laugh and shakes her head without thinking of the comb.]
What are you even talking about? You -- do everything for me. I'm just -- being a friend. Mostly. [...She hopes. She's not very experienced in it, which might be gleaned from her sudden awkward shift and how she pushes one if her sleeves up to scratch her arm, wanting for something to act as a fidget.] Um, I wanted -- to ask. Can you teach me? Bow and arrow. Um -- archery. That's it.
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I don't think... you understand... how much... that means to me...
[He leans a little bit past her, just so she can see him lift a brow at her before he settles back where he was.]
There's no one... like me... The other dead... don't even see me... I could forget... that I exist... [Sometimes he was afraid that he would.] The living... would shoot me... on sight... before I... found my disguise... And even then... people are... so scared now, Ryder... no one dreams... no one's happy... I just want to live... no one lives...
[He realizes his hands have stilled in her hair. There's a moment where he gets that awful feeling in his eyes so he squeezes them shut until it goes and returns to combing.]
You give me... everything... So... I'd be happy... to teach you... though I'm... just self-taught... myself...
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That makes me really -- happy.
[She waits until she feels the comb reach the end of a stroke, then peeks behind herself so she can safely lean back and against him. She's careful to nest her head on his right shoulder, for obvious, toothy reasons. Her voice, as much as the affection makes her want to burst, is a soft murmur, and she tries to speak evenly instead of her usual catching of words.]
When I told you I didn't know anyone like you before, it wasn't just about this. It was -- Y-you're the only friend I've ever had. No one ever really noticed or understood me before, but you make me feel like I'm mmmore. Like there can be more. I'm not the same as you, but I...know. How much it can mean that I'm here with you and you're here with me. You give me...days? I don't ever want to be without you now, you know.
[She smiles weakly to herself.]
I've imprinted on you like -- a baby duck. [Goose.]
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She leans back and he freezes, which is stupid. But he can't help it, conflicting urges utterly paralyzing him. It's not safe... I'm so hungry... Please don't leave...
Her own words are no less vulnerable, no less paralyzing. More, she says, but he can't imagine her being less.]
Little duck... I'm scared... that I'll hurt you...
[He doesn't push her away. But, his hands lower down to brace on the bed. And a little bit to tangle his fingers in the covers.]
Not going anywhere... I won't... but I'm... afraid...
[She's so close. She's so warm. He can feel her pulse, he's certain of it.]
If you... wrap yourself... in a blanket... can I... hold you?
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Yeah. Um, we -- should go to bed, then. You know. Spoons. [Falling asleep in his arms sounds like...a really good end to this good day. It was a little early, maybe, and would probably end up as more of a nap on her part, but it counts because she says it counts. Besides, the cozy feeling filling her up, the post-bath satisfaction, and her hard work are the perfect recipe for sleep. Getting to her feet, Ryder only wanders briefly to retrieve a bag of jellybeans that had long since become a conglomerate she'd have to unstick from itself to eat before returning to her side of the bed and giving an apologetic look.] Sorry.
[She should have taken the opportunity to eat when he was out hunting... Her determination required her to fix the bath problem, though. Brain said "you gotta". She holds the bag in her teeth as she wraps herself up in a blanket cocoon and flops down to feel embarrassed until he actually came to do that holding thing.]
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Spoons...
[Does this change what they are? Was he ever sure what they were? He can't recall if they'd even declared each other friends. He sets the comb aside whilst she slip away too, feeling the lack of her acutely. She apologizes and she shakes his head.]
Nothing to... be sorry for...
[She bundles up and lays herself down. He hesitates a moment too, his own embarrassment catching up at last, along with his nerves. But he lays down behind her, settling himself before he reaches out. His arm drapes over and pulls her in. He settles his forehead against the back of her and closes his eyes, just... feeling this.]
Don't... say anything... too nice... I'm... trying not to cry...
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His comment brings out a breathless laugh that interrupts the anxious biting of her lip and trainwreck of thoughts that ultimately meant nothing. She squirms just a little, settling in more comfortably now that she has him there, before quietly breaking off a blob of jellybean to suck on while her fingers peeked out the blanket to cautiously run along his more spindly ones. So...very strange. She doesn't mind it.
Don't say anything too nice, huh?]
Prayer of the Selfish Child -
"Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep,
And if I die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my toys to break
So none of the other kids can use 'em.
Amen."
[There. Nice and bratty.]
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