Thirty Bells: [Action/Written]

[simplestgift]

[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.]

Comments

[simplestgift]

Oh. [A beat.] We didn't...well, we did have them, as such, but not in very many cities. The Glasgow Police weren't very useful, usually.

[theoniongirl]

Really?

[she looks thoughtful at that] I guess some people would say the same, when I'm from. But that's not really fair. I guess it's like any institution. They can't always do the job the way you want, but most of the people involved really try.

They're in nearly every place, when I'm from.

[simplestgift]

No, I mean--the Glasgow Police are a bit like the Blue Rogues. You never hear of them doing much.

[theoniongirl]

[she gave a small laugh at that] Well, this one didn't seem like the type to just sit aside. I met her and her boss. Apparently they both arrived here at the same time, along with a doctor from their world.

[simplestgift]

[The mention of the doctor makes him miss Leonard horribly. He looks briefly wistful.]

Good people?

[theoniongirl]

[she smiled] I think so. They were stressed, of course. But nice.

[simplestgift]

Helped them find their way?

[theoniongirl]

I helped Sally, at least. And tried to answer their questions. ...I'm not sure how much they believed.

[simplestgift]

They'll have to come to believe it in time, surely.

[theoniongirl]

I'm sure they will. It just takes time to adjust.

[simplestgift]

[Time to adjust. Why is everything setting him off today?

Thickly:]

You're very patient with everyone.

[theoniongirl]

[that's enough to connect all of those strange signals she'd been getting from him since she'd walked through the door. She doesn't know why, but...]

Archie?

[she reaches out to touch his arm, but hesitates, fingers hovering over his sleeve] You okay?

[simplestgift]

[He tenses, then swallows, readying his excuse. His voice breaks as he says it.]

March.

[theoniongirl]

March?

[her fingers settle, then, lightly resting on his arm]

[simplestgift]

It has to do with prison. I don't want to talk about it.

[theoniongirl]

[and, of course, she lets it go. Understanding, even if it's misunderstanding, spills into her eyes and she just squeezes his arm gently. She gives him a faint smile] Of course.

[and, releasing his arm, she curls her fingers around her coffee mug again, head canting to one side.] I met a soldier from your time, too. I think he's from your time, anyway. A man named Richard Sharpe.

[simplestgift]

[He clears his throat.] So you've met the major as well, have you? Decent fellow.

[theoniongirl]

He seemed like it!

[there's still a hint of worry in her eyes, but she respects him too much to push if he wants to be left alone. He lets her have her masks. The least she can do is let him have his]

I hope he decided to actually find a place to stay, though. I like the rain, but even I wouldn't want to sleep out in this.

[simplestgift]

He sleeps outside? Why?

[theoniongirl]

I don't know if he was serious, but he didn't like the idea of living someplace he hadn't paid for.

[her own expression shifts to something serious, but this time it's not for Archie's sake] I don't blame him. If there was any money here at all, I would have done the same. I don't like things without a price tag.

[simplestgift]

Except here, we already know why. [He's loosening up and animating as the topic diverts from what was making him uncomfortable.]

[theoniongirl]

[it's a relief to see, though it won't keep her from worrying later]

But that's not always easy to accept at first. I hope he accepted it enough to find shelter from this.

[she smiled] He probably did. He seemed practical enough to come in out of the rain. Literally.

[simplestgift]

I would suggest we could board him here and have him work for his rent, but we're somewhat lacking in spare rooms of late. Quite different from when it was only two of us.

[theoniongirl]

House 7, too. We've got a new lodger now, as well. [there's something slightly wistful in her expression when she says it. She didn't mind the last room being taken. Not at all. But it had been a final acknowledgment that, for now at least, Bones was gone] Buffy had a friend arrive from home. I haven't really had a chance to talk to her much, though.

[simplestgift]

Really? What's her name?