simplestgift | Thirty Bells: [Action/Written]

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Thirty Bells: [Action/Written]

[Archie Kennedy opens his eyes with his back against something hard, his wings spread out over solidness even as he grows aware of the prickle of grass underneath him. He is curled up on his side, wearing new feather trousers and shivering horribly. He hugs himself for warmth, and movement brings the rain to his attention. He is soaked.

My God, what did I lose? His hand grasps for the St. Michael pendant Horatio gave him for his birthday last year, only to find empty air.

He left it at home.

His wings twitch, and he twists to find himself pressed against a tall rock, probably near one of the lakes. His disorientation in full swing, he doesn’t even bother to try to figure out which lake it is. He sits up, waits for the world to stop whirling, and takes a shaky, hasty inventory.

Arms and legs. Nose and ears and eyes. Touch, taste, smell, sight, hearing. Ten fingers, ten toes, a wild mass of blond hair unbound and sticking to his damp neck and forehead.

What did he lose?

Still trembling, he curls against the rock and tries breathing for a bit.

Memories, maybe? Any holes in his memory? How is he to know?

Horatio. He remembers Horatio, thank God. Buffy, Jilly, Jack, Leonard, Elizabeth. Father is Finley Kennedy, mother is Elspeth, siblings Finley, Neil, and Abigail. His grandfather pushed him into the Navy. His first ship was the Swiftsure. Is everything important there?

Off on a mission, and now he's back as if he'd never left. Nothing hurts. The only pain now is in finding out what he paid to come back to life. And in telling…

No. He is not going to tell Horatio about another instance where he wasn’t able to protect him, especially from death. He can’t call for help, because anyone who finds him in this state will know, and no one can know.

His wings shiver, shaking off water, then wrap around his body as well as they can. He’s always so inclined to forget they exist, but they do help to stave off the rain and warm him a little. Then, weakly, his knees threatening to buckle under him, he stands up. It’s a long walk home, and he has to make it alone.

The next two hours pass in a haze as he finds the road and follows it, limiting himself to two thoughts every quarter-hour if he can help it. After a while, he doesn’t feel especially cold anymore, which he vaguely knows from his first appearance in Luceti is a bad sign. Sheltering in the tree village won’t help him get dry when he’s already soaked, so he continues at the quickest pace he can manage. It’d be even worse to die of hypothermia just after coming back from the dead.

In the village, he steals quietly toward the clothes shop, shivering hard and pale as a ghost.

It’s going to have to be a matter of putting on the face again. No one can suspect something is wrong. Those who aren’t scornful will be compassionate, and he doesn’t think he can take compassion right now.

The door to house 36 opens very, very quietly, and the lieutenant slips inside as if he doesn’t want anyone to know he’s there. As quickly as he can, he’ll find the St. Michael pendant and slip it on.

It takes some time, but in the evening, over a cup of tea in the tea shop, he writes on the journals, shortly:]

I’m back from my mission.

-AK

[At night, he goes out for a drink. He doesn't make it to Good Spirits.]

[OOC: First chronological tag goes to Amelia, last to John Watson.]

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[Amelia, currently benefiting from layers of clothing, doesn't need too long to catch up. At first all she sees is a huddled over form, not yet recognizable in the rain.]

Hey, you! Wait a second.

[Although Amelia can understand why someone wouldn't in this weather. She jogs a little faster; she'll at least try to give the guy her umbrella if nothing else.]

[With a dripping, tangled mass of hair sticking to face, forehead, and shoulders, it might take a second for Amelia to recognize the normally-pristine Kennedy. Hearing her voice, his pace quickens. He doesn't want anyone who knows him to see it's him. Amelia is friends with Jilly, and if she tells her he was walking about in new feather clothes...]

[...Oh, just what Amelia isn't hoping for. She's half-tempted to let the guy go if only because he's being an idiot, but Amelia knows it probably isn't the guy's fault. Amelia remembers her own lack of polite behavior when she first arrived, after all. So instead, she breaks into a run until she gets herself in front of the guy.]

I said to wait!

[Amelia's stops short after she passes, putting herself in the man's way. In doing so she finally gets a look at the guy's face, if only just barely between his hair and the rain. He's definitely not easy to recognize, and Amelia squints as she tries to see him better.]

...Kennedy?

[He doesn't look at her. His expression still speaks of worlds of shame, as if he's been caught red-handed at something. It's as bad as any nightmare of having to traverse a crowded area naked, afraid he's being stared at or, God help him, leered at. But he does stop when she's in front of him, no longer able to pretend he could get through without anyone looking or caring.]

[At first it doesn't make any sense, to see Kennedy dressed that way. There is a reason though, one Amelia knows, that tugs at the back of her mind. It pulls harder when she realizes Kennedy won't even look at her properly, as if somehow keeping his eyes averted will make her disappear.

But she doesn't want to think of it--to make the reason real.

Instead Amelia focuses on something arbitrary, suddenly working to take off her coat. She doesn't have any illusions about it fitting the much bigger man, but it's something to focus on.]

Here. [Even getting the long jacket off one shoulder confirms just how cold it is, but she keeps going.] You can wrap it around yourself sideways or something until we get you inside.

[That closes his throat so tightly it hurts. He accepts the jacket, with a choked murmur of thanks--it would be impolite to refuse, wouldn't it? But he can't look at her. He pulls it across his shoulders, sideways as suggested. It does little to alleviate the violent shivering, but he is grateful.]

[The cover is something, even if it doesn't seem to help much. Amelia angles the umbrella to try and cover Archie more, but she knows they have to get inside.]

Come on. [She's not going to take no for an answer; if Archie tries, Amelia will grab her coat or even his arm to drag him along. She heads for the Welcome Center, and then to a quiet room therein. Kennedy doesn't seem all that eager to be out among the crowds.]

[He follows wordlessly, not resisting at all. He's already caught. Maybe she hasn't made the connection yet. When in the side room, he sits on the floor against a wall, covering whatever isn't covered by the wings with her poor jacket and shivering miserably.]

[This isn't the first time Amelia's brought someone out of the rain into this building, and once Archie's settled, she leaves him briefly to get blankets for him to use in place of her coat. She also sets some coffee to brew, but that takes too much time to just wait for. So instead she goes back, crouching down in front of Archie and holding out the covers to him.]

You might want to figure out how to talk about it now. Otherwise they're going to be scared stiff for you.

[He uses one blanket to dry off shakily.]

T-talk about what?

What happened to you. [Whatever the Malnosso have done, Amelia can't directly see it. Still, it's clear that something happened, and Amelia's run-ins with other mallynap victims--as she assumes Archie is--haven't been all that great lately.] It's not like people won't be able to tell anyway, but how you're acting is only going to make it worse.

[He wraps himself up in the dry blanket.]

I'm acting this way because I'm bloody cold. And bloody naked.

[He drags the damp blanket on top of the dry one. It doesn't stop the shivering so much as muffle it.]

[Amelia frowns at the snark, although it's definitely better than him not even looking at her.]

You've got pants on, which means you're not naked. Besides, it's not like you're the first guy I've seen without a shirt.

[Also? She reaches for the damp blanket.] Getting all of them wet isn't going to help. I can get you another blanket, and I've got coffee going.

Edited 2012-03-19 02:45 (UTC)

[He lets her take the top blanket and draws the other one closer about him.]

Thank you.

[His voice is very small.]

You're welcome.

[So much for the snark. After watching Archie for a moment longer, she lets out a quiet sigh.]

I know you're not okay. Those are New Feather clothes.

[Those words have the apparent effect of shrinking him. He says nothing.]

[Not what Amelia wants to happen. She stands up, taking a few steps away from Archie.]

Please. Talk to me.

[This secrecy is horrible. Her words are too much like Clayton's. This isn't even a comparable event, and he still feels like a midshipman again.]

About what?

You know what.

[She stares down at him, memories of what happened when Wolfwood last came back still fresh on her mind. That whole disaster of him trying to kill Vash, what he confessed to Amelia after--it's not something she wants other people to have to go through.]

If you can't even look at me, how are you going to face Horatio or Jilly? Whatever's happened, it's not like it's your fault.

[He can't help it.]

Everyone says that. I always wonder why it's supposed to be a comfort.

[Better that than silence.]

Because intent matters, or it's supposed to.

[Except Amelia knows that isn't true.]

But people can still do the wrong things for the right reasons. So I guess it really isn't all that comforting.

[A hard swallow.]

I know how to handle Horatio and Jilly.

How to handle them?

[Not the right word.]

And just what do you plan to do?

[This is so extremely uncomfortable, this pressure. He's not sure how much longer he can put her off.]

Warm up. Put on some clothes. Smile, laugh, it doesn't take much when no one wishes to believe something's wrong.

So you're going to lie to them.

[Amelia isn't going to let Archie sugarcoat it. Not with the countless things that could still happen, any unseen effects of being taken.]

What are you thinking, Kennedy?! Don't you know how much you could hurt them? Not to mention that they have a right to know because they're your friends.

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