As predicted Booker does follow, keeping his pace alongside her while simultaneously trying to will the dull ache at the base of his skull away. Being mortal and hungover is truly a reason to loathe the day, but coffee helps. Water would probably help too, but what are insignificant things like healthy habits to someone who has never cared for them to begin with? ]
It's going. [ Which is maybe being generous. ] Joe hasn't punched me since the day at the market, so that is something. Nicky — is Nicky. [ The disappointment and devastation in his reunion with Nicky felt like its own kind of punch, so all in all, it mostly helps to stay out of their way. ] And Nile — [ is perfect??? No, having Nile (and Andy) around keeps him from wanting to isolate himself from everyone, fall back into horrible habits. ] — perhaps I am unworthy of her kindness, but I will not turn it down.
( that's pretty much as she expected. joe and nicky have history to deal with, a betrayal that they thought would never happen because of how long they'd been together. and then it happened, leaving them both gutted and scarred and wondering if something like that might happen again.
they trust each other, they trust her but with booker's actions, it made each of them a little more wary, a little more cautious of who they trusted.
she sighs. )
Just don't piss Nile off. She's liable to stab you in the shoulder.
( just for the hell of it, just for fun. )
I don't know if Joe and Nicky will ever come around but...it means a lot that you're trying. To me, it does. Because not a lot of people would. They'd give up and just leave the connection severed.
[ A quick huff of laughter. Ah, yes. He remembers that phone call, feeling like it had happened another lifetime ago. ]
I will keep that in mind, especially as we're not healing the same way we used to.
[ Good ol' Nile.
Hearing the truth about Joe and Nicky stings, but Andy isn't wrong about that either. He had really hurt them all, took their unconditional love for him for granted, and threw it back in their faces. It was a miracle at all that Andy was so forthcoming to give him this chance. ]
It would be easier. [ Booker agrees. He could find a space in this strange city and hole up for however long it took before he died. But he finds he doesn't want that life anymore, no matter how much he knows he deserves it. ] But since when did we do anything easy, huh?
[ His smile is without much humour; almost sad. ]
All this — [ He tries again. ] — I'm being given a chance to do something differently.
[ And back home, with Andy's newfound mortality and a hundred years of exile, how could he ever prove himself to her before she died? That had hit him the worst, sent him spiraling into his deepest, reckless drinking.
He clears his throat. It's too early for this kind of emotional confrontation, perhaps. ]
( andy decides to chance the empathy bond when she reaches over and curves a hand around the back of his neck. she doesn't touch long, not wanting to be intrusive to whatever booker's feeling but she gives him a squeeze and then let's go. )
You're not the only one getting a chance to do something differently.
( she hasn't really done a lot of talking about herself and she doesn't know what she's going to say here but she continues to not want him to feel like he's alone in this. )
My immortality's gone. And not because of this place. Whenever we go back, it's going to be gone again. I'd planned on...just letting my life run out. I'm tired, Book.
[ It's brief enough, doesn't set off the empathy bond too badly, that Booker feels comforted by the touch. Grateful for it.
When she lets go, it's a noticeable emptiness that gets left behind, and for a moment Booker wonders how awful it would be if he just shifted to wrap his arms around Andy and hold her tightly, if sharing the empathy bond and all the haunted thoughts in his heart that follow would be worth it.
But he keeps his arms where they are, set on staying where he is. Frozen in place, actually, because Andy continues to speak. ]
'Letting my life run out' [ He repeats slowly, meeting her eyes and knowing the answer already, only because he knows her. ] What does that mean, exactly?
It means I'm tired, Booker. I've been tired for awhile.
( she shrugs and doesn't apologize for it. she'd felt the hollowness and emptiness for awhile and she hadn't been able to do anything about it. she'd been immortal and that was it. when that changed, when the immortality had gone, she'd had the mission and she'd had nile to look after. )
Don't tell me you've never thought something like that.
( she has to think all of them have at one point or another. )
[ It's said lightly, but the unsaid sentiment lies beneath the words — for too long, life has felt more like a curse than a gift for him. If he'd been granted mortality back home, Booker would gladly let his life run out, if he didn't run headlong into danger to end it sooner than that, even.
Of course, now that he does have it ... given everything that had happened, the path chosen has become a hell of a lot more complicated. ]
You've lived a very long life, Andy. [ Longer than even he can confirm, though he has his guesses. ] But even still — you've done so much good for the world. [ For their family. For him. ] You could still do it with what little time you have left.
[ He exhales a breath of laughter. ]
I know it sounds a bit funny — [ By which he means not funny at all; contradictory, more like. ] — coming from me.
( hearing that come from him, she laughs but it's not incredulous. she appreciates the sentiment and that his heart's in the right place but she doesn't know...what she believes about her life right now.
she sighs and slides her hands through what's left of her hair. she should be happy, she knows, because she has her team here all in one piece and that's a good thing.
they're all alive but she's still tired and she feels helpless because she can't lead in a situation that's completely unknown to her.
she swallows and shakes her head. )
I can't do anything here. I don't even know what the hell I'm supposed to do.
I don't think any of us expect you to have all the answers, Andy.
[ It is strange, playing the support rather than the enabler. For someone who is so used to just sliding a bottle of wine or a glass of whiskey in commiseration, no other words needed, it's a new thing that Booker is trying. Getting out of his own head, consciously thinking of the needs of someone else, someone he cares very much about, it might take a bit of getting used to on all their parts. But he's trying. He told Andy he would. ]
And — [ A breath, because he isn't sure how true this is anymore, but: ] — we're a team. We'll approach this like we approach any mission. Gather the intel, figure out where we fit into this, proceed as needed. Together.
( what he says is...right. she knows it's right but he doesn't know if she can make herself believe it completely. she doesn't know if she can allow herself not to feel like an abject failure if she doesn't have the answers. )
I know.
( she nods, head falling forward to give herself a moment to breath, to get herself back together. )
I expect myself to have all the answers. I'm old, Booker, I've been through every possible situation you can name. But not this. I don't know this.
The universe clearly figured you needed one last surprise, another je ne sais quois.
[ Booker shrugs, watching her and wanting to reach out to give her shoulder a quick squeeze or something, but he doesn't like the empathy bond, doesn't like how it reveals all too much, makes them glow like a goddamned light show.
He sighs. ]
We explore first. [ Maybe get jobs, even. ] Drink next. [ Obviously. ] Answer the questions after. Huh?
( it's a good plan. she wants to have the answers to her questions first but she knows she has to be patient. this is one problem that's not going to be solved with an axe or brute force.
this is a whole new situation that's going to have to be looked at in a totally different way. )
Since when did you get so smart? ( smiling, andy reaches out and taps the side of his head. ) I thought you'd taken too many blows to the head for that to happen.
[ There's a proper laugh this time. Booker shakes his head, glad for the jab, honestly. It's very Andy. It's familiar. It feels normal in a sea of very abnormal circumstances. ]
I wasn't, but thank you for the confirmation if I had any doubts.
I know there's plenty of men and women around who would soothe your wounded ego, I'm sure.
( he wasn't that ugly, he can be rest assured. he was familiar and comfortable and she likes seeing his face on a daily basis. that had been one of the biggest difficulties when he had been exiled, knowing that she wouldn't get to see him.
she swallows and tilts her head, looking over at him. )
Or they would be on my side. That might be even more fun.
When was the last time someone had 'soothed his wounded ego' anyway? Likely much longer than Booker cares to admit, but it has always been his own doing. Emotional attachment with anyone, the kind he'd seen between Joe and Nicky every day, feels like a slow poison lasting the length of a mortal's life. Too long and too short, all at once. ]
Are you trying to make me cry, Andy? Any more of this, and perhaps I might.
( she doesn't actually want to see him cry. she's seen it a few times since they've known each other and each time she feels helpless, just as she does with joe and nicky, to help him. she does her best to comfort and soothe but she can't take away the source of what's caused his tears. )
Hopefully we can both avoid the whole crying there here. I think we'll have...other things to really preoccupy us with that we won't have time to cry.
Oh, I'm sure we will. [ Booker agrees, thinking on how there are way too many things they have yet to understand and figure out before they can even begin to find a way back to their own world.
There is very little room in their busy schedules for crying. ]
And don't forget, there is always drowning our sorrows in alcohol. We will need to get jobs just to afford that alone.
( a job. she knows that she has to get one because she'll be too...out of her mind with boredom without one but the thought of going to an actual job after so long is somewhat strange. )
Do you know the last time I had an actual real job?
( she's not even going to give him time to answer. )
It's been a long damn time. I don't know if I'm cut out for a mail room somewhere.
[ No shame in it, of course, but Booker simply can't imagine Andromache the Scythian — once worshipped as a goddess, who knows nearly every way to kill a man without blinking — sorting envelopes and Amazon packages for minimum wage. ]
What was the last 'actual real' job you had anyway?
( and that's the honest truth. andy isn't really sure what her last job was. she's been doing this for years and years and years. maybe not with the same group but it's always been this.
she sighs, trying to sift through memories to find an answer to booker's question. )
I might have done something when I was younger. Maybe delivering things for my parents? I really can't recall having a legitimate job. I did things for jobs we were on, took employment to get myself into certain situations but I don't know if that counts.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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( don't give ideas here, booker, or she'd try and talk you into something ridiculous just for fun and to see if you'd follow through.
you were making your own bed.
with a sigh, she gets up and starts out, knowing he's going to follow. she doesn't say anything for a few moments while they're walking. )
How are things going with the others?
( time for a quick check in. )
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As predicted Booker does follow, keeping his pace alongside her while simultaneously trying to will the dull ache at the base of his skull away. Being mortal and hungover is truly a reason to loathe the day, but coffee helps. Water would probably help too, but what are insignificant things like healthy habits to someone who has never cared for them to begin with? ]
It's going. [ Which is maybe being generous. ] Joe hasn't punched me since the day at the market, so that is something. Nicky — is Nicky. [ The disappointment and devastation in his reunion with Nicky felt like its own kind of punch, so all in all, it mostly helps to stay out of their way. ] And Nile — [ is perfect??? No, having Nile (and Andy) around keeps him from wanting to isolate himself from everyone, fall back into horrible habits. ] — perhaps I am unworthy of her kindness, but I will not turn it down.
I know none of this is easy — for anyone.
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they trust each other, they trust her but with booker's actions, it made each of them a little more wary, a little more cautious of who they trusted.
she sighs. )
Just don't piss Nile off. She's liable to stab you in the shoulder.
( just for the hell of it, just for fun. )
I don't know if Joe and Nicky will ever come around but...it means a lot that you're trying. To me, it does. Because not a lot of people would. They'd give up and just leave the connection severed.
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I will keep that in mind, especially as we're not healing the same way we used to.
[ Good ol' Nile.
Hearing the truth about Joe and Nicky stings, but Andy isn't wrong about that either. He had really hurt them all, took their unconditional love for him for granted, and threw it back in their faces. It was a miracle at all that Andy was so forthcoming to give him this chance. ]
It would be easier. [ Booker agrees. He could find a space in this strange city and hole up for however long it took before he died. But he finds he doesn't want that life anymore, no matter how much he knows he deserves it. ] But since when did we do anything easy, huh?
[ His smile is without much humour; almost sad. ]
All this — [ He tries again. ] — I'm being given a chance to do something differently.
[ And back home, with Andy's newfound mortality and a hundred years of exile, how could he ever prove himself to her before she died? That had hit him the worst, sent him spiraling into his deepest, reckless drinking.
He clears his throat. It's too early for this kind of emotional confrontation, perhaps. ]
I don't plan to waste it on bagging groceries.
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You're not the only one getting a chance to do something differently.
( she hasn't really done a lot of talking about herself and she doesn't know what she's going to say here but she continues to not want him to feel like he's alone in this. )
My immortality's gone. And not because of this place. Whenever we go back, it's going to be gone again. I'd planned on...just letting my life run out. I'm tired, Book.
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When she lets go, it's a noticeable emptiness that gets left behind, and for a moment Booker wonders how awful it would be if he just shifted to wrap his arms around Andy and hold her tightly, if sharing the empathy bond and all the haunted thoughts in his heart that follow would be worth it.
But he keeps his arms where they are, set on staying where he is. Frozen in place, actually, because Andy continues to speak. ]
'Letting my life run out' [ He repeats slowly, meeting her eyes and knowing the answer already, only because he knows her. ] What does that mean, exactly?
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( she shrugs and doesn't apologize for it. she'd felt the hollowness and emptiness for awhile and she hadn't been able to do anything about it. she'd been immortal and that was it. when that changed, when the immortality had gone, she'd had the mission and she'd had nile to look after. )
Don't tell me you've never thought something like that.
( she has to think all of them have at one point or another. )
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[ It's said lightly, but the unsaid sentiment lies beneath the words — for too long, life has felt more like a curse than a gift for him. If he'd been granted mortality back home, Booker would gladly let his life run out, if he didn't run headlong into danger to end it sooner than that, even.
Of course, now that he does have it ... given everything that had happened, the path chosen has become a hell of a lot more complicated. ]
You've lived a very long life, Andy. [ Longer than even he can confirm, though he has his guesses. ] But even still — you've done so much good for the world. [ For their family. For him. ] You could still do it with what little time you have left.
[ He exhales a breath of laughter. ]
I know it sounds a bit funny — [ By which he means not funny at all; contradictory, more like. ] — coming from me.
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she sighs and slides her hands through what's left of her hair. she should be happy, she knows, because she has her team here all in one piece and that's a good thing.
they're all alive but she's still tired and she feels helpless because she can't lead in a situation that's completely unknown to her.
she swallows and shakes her head. )
I can't do anything here. I don't even know what the hell I'm supposed to do.
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[ It is strange, playing the support rather than the enabler. For someone who is so used to just sliding a bottle of wine or a glass of whiskey in commiseration, no other words needed, it's a new thing that Booker is trying. Getting out of his own head, consciously thinking of the needs of someone else, someone he cares very much about, it might take a bit of getting used to on all their parts. But he's trying. He told Andy he would. ]
And — [ A breath, because he isn't sure how true this is anymore, but: ] — we're a team. We'll approach this like we approach any mission. Gather the intel, figure out where we fit into this, proceed as needed. Together.
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I know.
( she nods, head falling forward to give herself a moment to breath, to get herself back together. )
I expect myself to have all the answers. I'm old, Booker, I've been through every possible situation you can name. But not this. I don't know this.
( and it's throwing her. )
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[ Booker shrugs, watching her and wanting to reach out to give her shoulder a quick squeeze or something, but he doesn't like the empathy bond, doesn't like how it reveals all too much, makes them glow like a goddamned light show.
He sighs. ]
We explore first. [ Maybe get jobs, even. ] Drink next. [ Obviously. ] Answer the questions after. Huh?
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this is a whole new situation that's going to have to be looked at in a totally different way. )
Since when did you get so smart? ( smiling, andy reaches out and taps the side of his head. ) I thought you'd taken too many blows to the head for that to happen.
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Hey, I have my moments.
[ You know, even after all this time and all this depression. ]
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( so, congratulations and all that. )
You're still an ugly sob, though. Just in case you were curious.
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I wasn't, but thank you for the confirmation if I had any doubts.
[ Beat. ]
Which I don't.
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( he wasn't that ugly, he can be rest assured. he was familiar and comfortable and she likes seeing his face on a daily basis. that had been one of the biggest difficulties when he had been exiled, knowing that she wouldn't get to see him.
she swallows and tilts her head, looking over at him. )
Or they would be on my side. That might be even more fun.
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When was the last time someone had 'soothed his wounded ego' anyway? Likely much longer than Booker cares to admit, but it has always been his own doing. Emotional attachment with anyone, the kind he'd seen between Joe and Nicky every day, feels like a slow poison lasting the length of a mortal's life. Too long and too short, all at once. ]
Are you trying to make me cry, Andy? Any more of this, and perhaps I might.
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( she doesn't actually want him to cry. she wants him to be at peace and be content but she knows that's asking a lot.
still, she thinks a light conversation like this is a good start. )
Do you get snot everywhere while you cry?
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[ Actually, yeah, it kind of is. There isn't a lot of snot, really, but it's a miserable thing to see anyway. Crying is no fun.
Still, his mouth is twisted into amusement. ]
But perhaps we should stop talking about my tears, huh?
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( she doesn't actually want to see him cry. she's seen it a few times since they've known each other and each time she feels helpless, just as she does with joe and nicky, to help him. she does her best to comfort and soothe but she can't take away the source of what's caused his tears. )
Hopefully we can both avoid the whole crying there here. I think we'll have...other things to really preoccupy us with that we won't have time to cry.
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There is very little room in their busy schedules for crying. ]
And don't forget, there is always drowning our sorrows in alcohol. We will need to get jobs just to afford that alone.
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Do you know the last time I had an actual real job?
( she's not even going to give him time to answer. )
It's been a long damn time. I don't know if I'm cut out for a mail room somewhere.
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[ No shame in it, of course, but Booker simply can't imagine Andromache the Scythian — once worshipped as a goddess, who knows nearly every way to kill a man without blinking — sorting envelopes and Amazon packages for minimum wage. ]
What was the last 'actual real' job you had anyway?
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( and that's the honest truth. andy isn't really sure what her last job was. she's been doing this for years and years and years. maybe not with the same group but it's always been this.
she sighs, trying to sift through memories to find an answer to booker's question. )
I might have done something when I was younger. Maybe delivering things for my parents? I really can't recall having a legitimate job. I did things for jobs we were on, took employment to get myself into certain situations but I don't know if that counts.
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