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 Posted: Fri Jan 01, 2016 10:15 pm
It had not been hard to find her. Harvard was not entirely surprised, Caroline had never made herself much a secret in the time he'd known her - not in the way he expected, at least. Her secrets ran deeper than room numbers or locations. And that was just fine. He'd debated messaging her back, but refrained, a sort of simmering almost-anger rising in him. She had given up, after all. Given up, when he'd told her where he would be. And if he'd racked up a couple of debts just to find her exact location, then that was perfectly fine. She was worth it. Harvard wondered if she felt the same. He sat on her bed - her door was unlocked, foolishly, perhaps - and waited. As he waited, Harvard scrolled through her messages, watching just how she lost hope.
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Posted: Sat Jan 02, 2016 2:02 am
A room fashioned from a dungeon cell felt a little less like a prison when there was not much of a barrier between it and the hallway. With the door left open, Caroline could make herself believe that it was all one large, oddly-shaped dwelling of her own choice, and it felt safer than sleeping in a room that had been built to keep someone in, not out. Finding someone in the room was not all that startling, considering, but she wasn't expecting it now. Distracted by her efforts to gut some newly scavenged scrap of handheld electronics, she'd walked two slow steps through the doorway before she even realized that anyone was there. The thing came apart with ease when it hit the stone floor, and stepping on it in her momentary panic was even more effective. "You--" No one feeling sat still behind her eyes at once, and the only thing they seemed to get across was profoundly conflicted indecision. "You're too good at this game. Was a long time to hide. How many weeks? Nine?" She made no attempt to hide that she might have been counting. Her eyes were searching again, their hunt now external as she sought the rules by toeing the line.
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Posted: Sun Jan 10, 2016 5:55 pm
"Sit down, Caroline," he said, ignoring the scatter of electronics. Harvard patted the bed next to him, aware as always that she was like a skittish cat, something eager to run, though not necessarily to hide. There were flashes of emotions, the way she spoke, that gave him some hope, but he still wondered if this had been a 'forever' kind of giving up. He slid his phone back into his pocket, the heat of its overused battery odd against his thigh. "When did you give up?"
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Posted: Sun Jan 10, 2016 8:15 pm
She sat with immediate compliance, as deliberate as ever in her displays of obedience, and watched him for a moment as she made herself comfortable. An assessment without uncomfortable scrutinizing, as the bright green curiosity in her eyes wandered across him. "I didn't," she plainly replied, fishing for the memory of all that she'd sent to him. "It wasn't giving up that stopped me. Hardly, slept so I'd have more time to look. Looked harder than I ever have--you know that already. Then..." Having reached an abrupt end to the string of thought that she'd been following, she furrowed her brow in concentration and tried to pick up another memory. "Uh, then...don't remember. Woke up here after that. I'd left them all behind." The admission was spoken slowly, carried on a long exhale that did nothing to ease her conscience. " Then. Then I was here, and still couldn't find you. So no, I didn't--there was no giving up. Just a lot of numbers adding up to someone who didn't want to be found." She gave an expectant look, assuming that she didn't need to assert her position of authority in that particular matter.
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Posted: Thu Jan 14, 2016 5:09 pm
Harvard shook his head and tucked an errant strand of Caroline's hair behind one of her ears. "I dreamed about you, you know, in the pod." It was a surprisingly personal admission - those dreams had held a sort of real quality to them that was shocking, even now. And so, he said nothing further on the dreams than that for now, anger fading and content to simply look at her. It was hard to harbor anger; it was effort, anyway. He sighed. "I always wanted to be found." There was an unspoken ' even if you weren't looking'. Perhaps that was why he'd dreamed. Harvard was coming to realize he much preferred to be the finder. He was confident in his ability to find her, to find the important things and people. He was not confident in other's abilities or tenacity. "Did you forget that I told you they were going to come for me?" Harvard barely kept his fingers from rising to her thigh and lingering on the hem of her that lay there. He never thought he was much of a fidgeter, but short hems were another temptation altogether. "You counted the weeks, of course." It exactly what he expected of her and he wished he could say he'd stay podded the perfect amount just for her. But it was solely by chance - did that make it even better? "You should messaged me more, in multiples."
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Posted: Thu Jan 14, 2016 6:23 pm
"We climbed up that tower, the radio tower." It hardly seemed like a relevant statement, but for Caroline, the details within them were less personal than a direct admission that she'd dreamed of him. "The one you could see from Emerston, off in the distance. Just stayed when we made it to the top. Could see everything...but no one could find us." One hand moved to hold the tucked-away hair in place, winding it around sections that were more adequately secured there. "You found me a lot in the dreams. But that's not surprising, is it? You think they ever connect, the dreams? We're both there?" That would be fun if they used it to their advantage, and it was tempting to stray off into the potential of it - much like it was tempting to encourage his hand to move a little further, or to curl her fingers into his hair instead of hers. But this was an explanation she owed to him. This was fair. She moved one-two-three steps back in her path of the conversation, before she'd tried to derail it. "Yeah. Yeah, should've." He'd counted too, and it was clear in her poorly-hidden grin that she'd noticed. "Twenty-seven messages, maybe? Guess I didn't know what coming to this island meant. Thought it'd be like just going off to Victoria. I didn't know we'd get stuck in a pod. Or that the bond was--it makes that thing live inside--I ******** up--" She closed her eyes, forced a smile, and took a deep breath. Not right now. "I'll make it up to you. I can do that, then pick up where this left off," she murmured, opening her eyes only halfway as she leaned towards him, fingers falling with a purposeful pressure over his. "Right?"
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Posted: Mon Jan 18, 2016 12:01 pm
"Could see everything," he repeated, seeming to remember something. "Not a bird in the sky, quieter than it had ever been. It'd be nice if they connected." They both had seen stranger things in the month since the infection came, even if there were obviously parts they could not remember. And this was as close as Harvard would get towards touching on some sort of otherworldly connection he and Caroline might or might not share. It was all very disgustingly sentimental in his mind and he simply glossed over those squishy moments. It was all very not Harvard-like. His grin at her numerical suggestion was something he couldn't hide. "While a perfect number, it isn't nearly enough, Caroline." Nine thrice equaled twenty-seven. If she'd been his student, he would have commended her memory. Harvard was almost distracted by her fingers, but the way her hem could be easily inched up, but the way she had closed her eyes was more important. "I have no doubt you can, Caroline," he said, a warm fondness overlaying his voice. "But tell me about your weapon. Are you alright? What is it?" His voice hardened then; Harvard wasn't going to let her steer past this.
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Posted: Wed Feb 24, 2016 7:25 pm
The qualities in him that Caroline found most favorable were the most difficult to encounter in times like this, when she still held out hope that she could just keep running from the things she didn't want. If she could now, it certainly wouldn't happen without him noticing. He always noticed; she wouldn't have wanted to change that, but it made it hard to lie to herself when she felt so strongly that she needed to. She sighed through her teeth and looked to him again, mentally digging her heels in against the part of her that still vehemently voted for flight. "It's, uh, it's a thing made of shadows. Not like they say in that general sort of way here - I mean literally. And not like a shadow came alive, more...a monster that can't pick a shape. It sticks in my head like tar or chewing gum--like the way that stretches and never comes off completely." In her pause, she looked faintly disgusted. "Or that's how I see it. Talked to me the first day, but now it doesn't. Just sticks there and smiles, like it's waiting for something." Her hand moved again, fingers brushing the back of his hand, lacking all of the unsubtle pressures of before. She only hooked her fingertips around his fingers, taking only the minimum of what she needed to feel like she was holding onto something, anchored here with him. "But I'm..." Would 'okay' really work? She was clearly considering her options, dividing her favor between lies and the truth, and it didn't take her long to remember that she wanted to be honest. Begrudgingly so, but honest nonetheless. "Can't tell if this is what I deserved, or if it's the shittiest joke I've ever heard. I've gone all this time thinking my kid wasn't my kid, but if I'm still me...I'm still me, right? I mean, if I really am still me with this thing, then she was... is..." She slowly shook her head, still in disbelief of it. "Then I really... really ******** up."
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Posted: Sun Feb 28, 2016 1:04 pm
He waited patiently as she spoke, curling his fingers around hers in return. Harvard noted each pause, each possible omission, and was neither encouraging or discouraging. Interruption seemed wrong. And when she was done, he waited a little more, thinking. For him, it didn't matter what Caroline's past held, if she'd been a terrible mother, or an absent one. It did matter in how it still affected her. "You are you - not the you of before, but the one here and now. And I know who you are now. The differences do not matter." His fingers twined a little more tightly with hers. At best, Mimsy had been a child Caroline had been unable to deal with and subsequently been cruel towards. At worst, a monster made of shadow stuff. It was up to Caroline to draw her own conclusions. Perhaps the answer was somewhere in the middle. Everything was muddled by the shadow of her old husband, whom Harvard instantly disliked for several reasons. Leaving had been the best, most important choice for Caroline, he thought, monster or not. "All of the people here are not who they were before. Time and circumstances change anyone, everyone." His thumb slid across her knuckles. "If you 'really ******** up'-" He pressed a finger to her lips to stall any interjections. "-if so, what would you do? Would you apologize to who she is now?"
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Posted: Mon Feb 29, 2016 4:04 pm
Through all of the nervous, fleeting things that were darting in and out of her mind as she tried to listen, she felt him tighten his hold around her fingers. It chased her hesitance away and disrupted the frenzy of things that liked to steal her clarity, if only for a little while. She smiled. It began to fade as she thought, connecting old lines to new dots. In the absence of the smile, she squeezed his hand. "Yeah. You're right." She nodded once, seeming to swallow the thought with the difficulty of a bitter spoonful of medicine. When it settled, her voice held more conviction. "You're right. We died to get away for a reason, I mean...probably shouldn't be thinking she's the only one who doesn't get to start over." That was bad. Knowing that she'd been doing that made her cringe with embarrassment. " s**t. Tried to say she doesn't get a new life after all the times I've gotten one, and after I'm only here because she saved mine." It made her laugh, sharp and short, at how startlingly hypocritical she'd been. "I should apologize. I should. But when I do, that's that - if I ******** up again after, I can't say things are different. And god, Harvard, I'm gonna ******** up again. I look at her and what she says and she's just so much like...she's like..." Nothing they wanted to talk about. She closed her eyes and tried to will herself forward. Now and forward.
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Posted: Fri Mar 04, 2016 8:04 pm
Holding her hand wasn't enough and he leaned over into her, shoulders pressing together, conscious of a need to ground her like she was a bird that might fly away without something tying her down. If she ever really, really wanted to go, he'd let her, he thought. Caroline deserved her freedom, of a sort, for all his words about cages. She'd gotten trapped again and again, reinvented herself to fit through the bars. But he didn't want her to go. Harvard was always okay with whomever flitted in and out of his life like fickle storms, but her.. When she closed her eyes, he reached up to tilt her head so he could kiss her softly on her forehead. "You fought for every life you've had. Maybe she did too, in different ways. You don't have to apologize; it's okay." Harvard was only concerned about her apology in the terms of how it would affect her. Mimsy was some side category he didn't know very well, but liked to poke on occasion. Caroline was more. Caroline was always now. "But if you do, know that an apology isn't a guarantee. It's an "I'll try", it's an "I'm sorry it hurt before". You can't predict the future just like you can't live in your past. There are only these moments of now." He didn't know what Mimsy was 'like', not in the way Caroline was explaining it. All Harvard wanted to do was protect her from everything, including her own past. It was a... new feeling for him, although not unwelcome. He rubbed a thumb across her cheekbone. "What do you want to do - if you want to do anything at all? Inaction is also a choice."
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