ikissdhimbck | OOM for Bela

Bela has no fucking clue what is going on, so focusing on getting Kate somewhere away is the thing to do. She gives Kate a moment on the landing, and then she gently nudges her arm.

"Hey, let's get you to your room, yeah? We're not too far. You're almost there. Come on, Kate. It's going to be okay."

Bela knows this is in all likelihood a lie, but lying is what she's good at.

"I buried him, Bela."

She's breathing unsteadily, her voice just a whisper. She blindly reaches for her hand in a half-hearted attempt to get back to her feet, but her eyes remain on the stairs in front of her.

"I buried him."

"I know you did. I have no doubt of that. Something- something caused by this place is happening. We'll figure it out."

Hopefully before Kate goes mad or has, at the very least, a nervous breakdown. She takes Kate's hand. This is not the best place to stop.

"Let's try standing up. On the count of three, okay? One- two- three." She pulls, taking Kate's elbow to better support her. She's bigger than Kate. She'll hoist her up, if she has to.

She returns to her feet, holding on to Bela with her other hand when her knees wobble beneath her. But she doesn't fall.

Nodding, she turns and lets Bela help her the rest of the way up the stairs and to her room. She can't unlock her door for how unsteady her hands are, so Bela is given the key and the control.

All Kate wants is to sit.

"See? There we are. You made it. Now you can sit in the quiet." She feels like she's rambling on like an idiot, talking like this. But it works? Maybe?

"Do you have anything to drink up here? If not, I may make a run for something to soothe our nerves."

"I--"

She licks her lips absently, rubbing her hands over her arms as she moves to one of the chairs. She nods, tipping her chin towards the table in the corner. There's a half-full bottle of whiskey.

Finding two clean glasses might be a bit more difficult, but there should be one by her bed, and another in the bathroom.

"Got it."

She hunts around for glasses and finds them. She's kind of glad there's not a full bottle. She probably should go for coffee or water or something not alcoholic at some point.

But first, she pours. She places the glass in Kate's hand.

"Okay. So. Doc went out the door with you and died. You buried him. Now he's walked back in. Tell me - and this is important - if he looked just like you remembered him. I mean, around the eyes."

She doesn't think it's a situation like Cal and Jack Harkness. The man seemed to think he was Doc Scurlock. It doesn't hurt to ask, though.

She shakes her head numbly, looking to be leagues away right now.

"He -- he was..."

Beneath dirt and blood and dust and facial hair and sweat and grime and sun-baked skin.

"He was young. Younger. Not the same."

'You're the second person 'round here t'talk like another version'a him will just waltz back in here like a spring chicken.'

No.

She swallows hard, shaking her head in quick, choppy motions as her trembling hand raises her glass to her lips.

"Okay. Okay."

Then it's probably not a case of a doppelganger. She takes a big sip of her own whiskey.

"Okay. So one thing that happens sometimes here-"

She thinks about that creepy ass time that X5-494 showed up as a six-year-old. Thankfully, she does not know about similar childish appearances Cal and Esfir experienced. This is a very good thing.

"People come in as younger versions of themselves. Maybe- maybe that's what happened."

'Is it the older or younger him around at the moment? I don't mind either way.'

'It -- well, obviously y'know what happened. It's -- he's older... why? Could... could he come back young again?'

NO.

She keeps shaking her head, eyes unfocused.

"But... but he got stuck. He got stuck outside for... for ten years. He got stuck."

He remembered her. He remembered everything they had been through together. He looked for a door for ten years and couldn't find one. It was the same Doc. He couldn't have been different. He couldn't have been... another Doc. She loved him, she would have known.

"Then maybe- maybe he got unstuck? God, Kate, I don't know. The doors here are so- I don't think anyone can explain them."

She shakes her head. She hasn't experienced the phenomena of people coming from subtly different versions of the same world, or she would suggest that as a possibility.

"If he's younger, then- I don't know. He knew you. Maybe you get a fresh start. Other people get second chances here. Maybe it's your turn."

Maybe.

She did ask for one.

Shame on her for not specifying which Doc she wanted that second chance with.

"...Oh my god," she whispers, tears springing to her eyes and choking her voice. "This isn't him. This isn't the same Doc. Oh, God, this isn't him."

She leaves her whiskey glass balanced precariously on her knee and buries her face in her hands, shaking slightly as she begins to cry. She isn't sure if she's more devastated, or more relieved.

"He didn't get stuck. This isn't him."

"But how-"

She stops. That is a stupid question to ask around here.

This time last year, Bela would have been truly at a loss to deal with this situation. She'd likely have fled the room. Now, however, she just takes another swallow of whiskey and presses on.

"Yeah. Okay. Maybe that is what's going on." Then she pats Kate on the back. "Still. It could-"

Work out? Be okay? Fuck. This is some messed up shit.

"What do I do?"

She's still shaking. If she's not careful, she might lose her whiskey.

"...What do we do? What... what is this supposed t'mean? Why did she bring him back, like this? Why did the Landlord do this?"

The Landlord? What? Bela's missed out on some bar mythology. She ignores it for the moment, because she's not sure how coherent Kate is right now.

"I don't know, Kate. I really don't know. I mean, I guess you could talk to him. At some point. When you're not so upset. And then you can see where you go from there."

"I don't know what to say to him."

She pulls her hands back, rubbing the tears from her face and reaching out for her glass just before it tips.

"What do I say t'him? What if he... if he's really not the same Doc? What if he... he ran 'way and left for a reason? I never told him I loved him. We never--"

'I want y'to marry me someday, Kate. I want that.'

"What's happening?"

It feels like her whole world is crashing in on her.

"I wish I could tell you."

She sits in silence a moment, her hand still on Kate's shoulder. Then she pours them both more whiskey.

"You don't have to talk to him at all. You don't. It's your choice. I mean-"

She shakes her head again.

"I'd sleep on it and hope he'd be gone by morning. But that's just me."

Kate watches as the amber liquid fills her glass, catching the light and casting it off again.

She nods weakly.

"He looked like hell."

"He did look pretty beat up. Good thing there's an infirmary. He'll get patched up."

Part of her, selfishly, does wish that he'll be gone when she wakes up. She wishes that this is just another one of her cruel dreams, another trick of her mind, that he'll fade like a specter with the sunrise.

Just like Sam.

But then she can't stop thinking about the blood on his clothes and the bruises on his face, the cuts and scrapes, and the tired look in his eyes.

She longs for him. She's been longing for him for months. And right now, she longs to see him well.

"Will'll take care of him. He... he'll make sure Doc gets the best treatment. Always does."

Still, she finds no comfort in the words.

"I don't know Will. I talked to him at a bonfire party out back a year ago. He's a good guy, yeah?"

Maybe a slight change of subject would be helpful about now.

Edited 2009-12-14 05:14 (UTC)

She nods slowly, eyes still distant, and shifts her legs up under her.

"Yeah. He's been... he's been a real good friend t'me. Doc's death hit him real hard."

She traces her thumb along the lip of her glass.

"Outlaws have got t'stick t'gether."

"'Course we do."

She pats her shoulder again.

"This whiskey's great, but I think we need chocolate. Lots of it. Expensive, dark, endorphin-rushing chocolate. I can make a run for some."

We.

The corner of her mouth twitches humorlessly.

That is what you are.

When Bela starts talking about chocolate, her smile turns a bit more sincere, until she's chuckling softly. Sniffling, she nods her agreement.

"I think that sounds amazin'."

"I'll be right back."

She puts one hand on the doorknob and then turns back to Kate.

"Don't go anywhere. Seriously."

She walks out, giving Kate one more glance before she closes the door. She's not gone very long at all. When she returns, she holds a few boxes of truffles, turtles, and other gourmet chocolates enclosed in fancy boxes that look nothing like what you'd pick up at the corner CVS or even at the local Whole Foods.

These are serious chocolates.

Bela pulls up a chair, opens a box, and offers her some dark chocolates shaped like sea shells.

"Bon appetit."

She nods when Bela heads for the door, but doesn't speak until her friend hesitates and looks back to make sure she isn't going to go anywhere.

"I won't," she murmurs, eyes serious.

She laughs wryly after Bela has left the room, peering into her whiskey.

"Don't think I could, even if I wanted to."

She's positively awash with relief when Bela returns with the chocolates and pulls up a seat next to her. She doesn't hesitate before reaching into the box and plucking out a piece of chocolate.

"Thank you," she sighs, savoring the chocolate as it melts on her tongue. She rubs her eyes tiredly. "This helps."

She's half-teasing, but the words are more serious than she probably realizes.

"No problem."

She's on chocolate number three before she says anything else.

"Do you want to close your eyes or anything? I'll stay here and, you know, keep watch, if you want to sleep."

Others at Milliways have done so for her before. She can see why they offered.

Kate spent the break in conversation staring blankly across the room, alternating between chocolate and slow sips of whiskey.

She blinks and looks down when Bela speaks, shaking her head slowly.

"I... I can't. I can't close my eyes, there's..."

She sighs, breath shuddering out of her lungs, and admits:

"If I close my eyes, then I'm admittin' that this is all real. That I'm awake, and Doc is really somewhere outside that door. I might not wanna open 'em again."

"I know what you mean."

When X guarded the door the night the demon attacked Bela, she couldn't close her eyes either. Maybe not for the exact same reason, but close to it.

"Then we stay up. I can always make a coffee run. We can get mochas. More chocolate is never bad."

She nods dumbly, trying on a small smile for her friend's benefit.

She doesn't know what a 'mocha' is, but Bela has a point. More chocolate is never bad.

"Jus' stay with me for a lil' while," she whispers, reaching over for her hand. "But y'don't have t'stay all night. I'll be okay. I just... I just need some time. T'think."

"I'll be here as long as you want me."

Or maybe a little longer, depending on how things are going. She squeezes Kate's hand.

"Here." She flips opens another box. This one has turtles with big fat pecans in. "These are fabulous."

"Sounds good," she chuckles, fishing into the new box.

There's a moment of quiet chewing.

"I'm so sorry. We were talkin' 'bout your world, an' Texas, an' now here we are..."

She shakes her head sadly.

She shrugs.

"Shit happens. We deal with it when it does."

She pops another piece of candy into her mouth. She'll pay for this at the gym later.

"Jus' wish I knew how."

Beat.

"T'deal with it."

She runs a hand over her face, and then picks through the chocolates again.

Pause.

"This is really real, isn't it? This is... this is real. Right?"

She could lie and tell her no, but it wouldn't do much good. Not really. She wants to, though.

"It's as real as things get here. So yeah. It is."

Another quiet, numb nod.

"Tell me it'll make more sense in the mornin'."

"Oh, that I absolutely can assure," she says, somewhat brightly. "Morning here always helps me."

"Have y'ever had the previous form of your dead lover walk back in b'fore?"

"Well, no. I had a dead lover come back to life. It was just kind of weird. So you are way ahead of me there."

She's not being flippant. Her tone is more factual than anything. It's the chocolate and the whiskey talking. She's feeling a little on the light-headed side.

Edited 2009-12-16 04:59 (UTC)

"You did?"

Beat.

"What'd... what'd you do?"

"Oh, no, it wasn't like what's happening to you. I mean, he'd been dead the whole time. Here. And then he wasn't anymore. So it was just weird. I couldn't even tell the difference."

She stares at the box of chocolates in her hand.

"Um. Maybe I should change the subject about now."

.
.
.

"Oh."

Something suddenly makes a whole lot more sense to Kate; which is ironic, considering the absurdity of Bela's words.

Bloody Milliways.

"I'm sorry."

Beat.

"You're right, I should jus' sleep on it. Give myself some time t'think," she mutters apologetically. "I'll be okay."

If only she could make herself sound more sure of that.

She smiles weakly in reply to Bela's last remark, and brushes her hand.

"Why don't y'finish tellin' me your story. From earlier. An' I'll tell y'more about Buchel's Bank."

The very thought of anything other than what's happening here and now with Doc in the Bar is hard to conjure. Kate's desperate for answers -- but there are no answers. So she'll settle for a distraction, instead.

"Don't be sorry. It's- a bizarre night. All bets are off."

If Kate was a man, Bela would know how to comfort her. Sex is easy. Sex takes you out of the world for a little while, and when it's over, the release is enough to take the edge off the worst of turmoil. Unfortunately, Kate is not a man, and Bela just doesn't get into women that way.

She'd like to comfort her, though, with something besides liquor.

"Hey, um, this may sound strange, but- I could brush your hair out. If you wanted. When I was small, one of my nannies would brush my hair when I was sad, and it- Well, it always calmed me down."

Her words falter because they sound fucking ridiculous to her ears. "Never mind. I mean, it's a stupid idea. I can totally finish telling you the story, and I can't wait to hear about the bank."

A quiet pause passes between them, as Kate's gaze (which had been focused on one of the chocolate boxes sitting between them), goes distant.

"I'd like that."

It doesn't sound stupid, or juvenile to Kate. Only the higher-class can afford to have others comb through their hair for them at night, before bed. But, the social structure of her day and world aside, the thought is a comfort to her. It's been fifteen years since the last time her momma combed her hair, and her daddy... loved her, but was awful when it came to getting the knots out.

"I'd let somma the girls in my class brush out my hair on occasion," she murmurs, a secret smile playing on the corners of her mouth. "They loved t'play with it."

She slips her legs back out from under her, and stands.

"Yeah? Really?"

Oh! Okay. This is good. This is doing something to help that does not involve painfully searching for words or getting drunk.

"Where's your brush? I warn you - I've only been brushed and not done the brushing, but I think I'll know how."

She laughs, and though it is a tired, helpless sound, it's still a laugh.

"S'in the bathroom. Lemme get it. I know you don't got clumsy hands, so I'm not afraid."

She retrieves the brush, which looks like an antique by modern standards. It's a fine, horsehair brush with a round, silver handle, engraved with a floral design.

"Where d'you want me to sit?"

"After tonight? Wherever the hell you want."

This is strange. But it's strange in a good way, and not an awkward, uncomfortable way. Before Milliways, she had no time for friends and girlfriends were an abstraction. Even as a child, she was the odd one out, thanks to her situation at home. There were girls who were friends, but never close friends.

She never had hair-brushing friends.

Neither did Kate. She got on well enough with the girls at university, but most of them were preoccupied with suitors, while she was preoccupied with academics.

(Her father was proud.)

She settles near Bela's feet on the rug, and begins to unbraid her hair.

"Thank you."

She tips her head back so she can see Bela, sincerity shining bright in her too-blue eyes. They look every bit as much as a wind-whipped sea as one would expect after a night like tonight.

Bela glances down at Kate's eyes and expression, but averts her eyes quickly. It's a bit too much emotion to deal with. She'll focus on brushing.

"You start at the tips and work your way up, in case there are tangles," she says, brushing carefully. "At least that's what- God, I've forgotten her name. But she was one of the nice ones. They didn't last long, the nice ones."

She falls into a rhythm as she methodically brushes her way through Kate's long hair. It's easy once you get going, except for the occasional snag from a tangle.

In that way, it's not too dissimilar from friendship, Bela thinks.

OOM for Bela

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