11972/Brits Only Eat Fish n' Chips, Right

Brits Only Eat Fish n' Chips, Right
Date of Scene:	10 July 2022
Location:	Oxford, England
Synopsis:	Agnes, Cael, Jon (and Bear) get fish and chips, and take it to a park to sit and enjoy. It devolves into an arguement over Jon and Cael's various traumas, prompting Agnes to flee with Bear - but they work through it in the end.
Cast of Characters:	Jonathan Sims, Cael Becker

---

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    It's taken a bit of time, to get everyone packed and ready, and the dogs prepared, and the cat being cat-sat, and--there's a lot involved in going away for a week or two, even if you have portals to get back and forth. The full moon coming up made Jon consider postponing, but the best time to check out the house at Hill Top Road is Sunday, and Jon wants to get in some sight-seeing first to bolster himself for going back there. So they go ahead and head to England, settling in the hotel and then heading out to get--what else? Fish and chips.

    Jon takes Cael and Agnes to one of his favorite places. It's not fancy, in fact it's quite the opposite, with a sign that was probably put up in the 80's and never changed that just says 'Fish and Chips.' There aren't even any tables--the place is narrow and long, the interior that customers can access pretty much enough space for the three of them to stand without crowding. The lights are flourescent in the drop ceiling, the floor's plain white tile, the walls are white-painted drywall covered in menu boards and notices.

    But it smells /amazing/.

    Anges' eyes are very wide as they stand outside. "Oh, is this a proper chippy? Really?"

    "Pretty much, yes," Jon says. "Not the most upscale, I suppose, but the food here's really good, and the prices are great."

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael has been in good spirits since they arrived in England - partly because she's genuinely enjoying herself, and partly out of hope that it'll rub off on Jon. Bear, seated at her heels, further crowds the shop but it's hard to argue with his presence, with the 'service dog' vest he's currently wearing. She's arm-in-arm with Jon, leaning up against him as she studies the menu. "I have- //no// idea the difference between the various fish," Cael admits. "Can we order three different kinds, so we can sample them?" she suggests. "And- do they only have fryers? It'd be nice if they could grill up a bit of fish for Bear as well but- well." It's hardly necessary.
    Her accent, from the American Southwest, stands out in stark contrast to the various British accents that surround her - but she doesn't seem to notice it, herself.
    "Have you had fish and chips before, Agnes?"

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Agnes shakes her head. "Well, I've had fish, and even fried fish, but not... not fish and chips. Not /really/."

    "Jonny Sims!" The man behind the counter, tall and stocky and grey-bearded, with salt-and-pepper hair, grins at the Archivist as he walks through the door. "And this must be little Agnes, all grown up? And...?"

    "Cael Becker," Jon supplies. "My girlfriend." He doesn't bother explaining about Martin and all the rest now.

    "Ahh, I see." The man smiles at Cael, and Agnes. "Jonny here used to come in here practically every day with your mother, you know. Craving cod, she was."

    "It's, ahh--just Jon, now, thanks, Frank. Can we get three orders? Haddock, and cod, and snapper? And three chips. And a sausage for the dog?"

Cael Becker has posed:
    Sausage is a word Bear knows - and his tail thumps happily on the floor, while Cael grins at Jon in amusement. "Jonny?" she asks. "Jonny Mariposa Sims..." Yes, she's making it worse - it's Cael. What do you //expect//?
    "Haddock, cod, and snapper," she repeats in a thoughtful tone. She's heard of all of those things but- well. We'll see how it goes.
    "You'll have to show me the proper British way of eating fish and chips. Something to do with malt vinegar, right? What //is// malt vinegar, anyways? What makes it 'malt'?" The walking encyclopedia will have the answer to this, she's sure.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon closes his eyes for a moment. "/Jon/," he repeats, firmly, with a sigh. He opens his eyes and says, "And malt vinegar is made from ale, which is made from malted barley. Thus, malt vinegar."

    "Jon, then," Frank says, and chuckles. "He cleans up at trivia," he says to Cael with a wink, and then goes to get the order ready.

    "You don't /have/ to put salt and vinegar on your chips," Jon notes as the man walks away, "but it /is/ good."

    "So... my mother came here every day when--when she was pregnant with me?" Agnes' voice is small, quiet.

    Jon nods. "Just about, yes. It was--well. Maybe it was foolish. We were technically in hiding. But she insisted none of us could get it right, at home. I think she just hated being cooped up in the house. Said it gave her the willies." He sighs. "And anyway, we had wards, and we thought... we thought we were safe."

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael lets out a quiet groan. "Oh, Gods, believe me - I already know better than to challenge Jon on trivia." She lets out an aggrevated sigh, before turning her attention back to Jon and Agnes.
    "Yeah, well - who could have possibly known just //how// big a dick Elias really was?" Cael mutters under her breath. "God that guy was a- ahem."
    If she could kill him for a second time, she would.
    "It's bullshit that you grew up in England - and never went to a chippy. I mean, sure, all that other stuff he did was bad - but that's just //cruel.//" She grins at Agnes for a moment, then reaches down to rub at Bear's head.
    "Where should we take our stuff to eat? There a particularly nice view somewhere?"

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "/A/ particularly nice view?" Jon looks affronted. "Oxford is a /lovely/ city, I'll have you know. There are /plenty/ of nice views. But there's a park nearby, we can find a place to eat. Look at the water. /Not/ throw chips to the wildlife." That's a terrible idea, all around.

    Shortly thereafter, food is handed over, payment is given, and the three of them walk out with food for themselves and Bear, all boxed up to go. Jon puts malt vinegar on the chips and fish both--explaining that this isn't /actually/ malt vinegar at all but 'non-brewed condiment,' and going into the difference between actual malt vinegar and 'chippy vinegar.' Which he evidently doesn't care isn't 'real' vinegar, given that he put it all over the food.

    By the time the explanation is done, they're nearing a park, and Agnes is giggling. "Am I going to do that, when I get the Archive? Spew random facts about random things?"

    "It's not /random/, Agnes. It's /food/. Food is important." A pause. "And... maybe, but I, ahh..." Jon clears his throat. "I already knew all of that."

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael rolls her eyes in amusement as Jon takes affront to her question, and once the food is ready, she joins arms with Jon to continue their walk - holding out a hand towards Agnes as well.
    Mine. Both of them were hers - her family, and she wasn't going to let anything happen to that now that she has it. Even if she does struggle to define what she is, exactly, to Agnes, and Agnes to her.
    "It looks like there's a free bench near the water," Cael remarks, nodding towards it, and leading the way, settling in with the pair, with Bear lying at her feet, and looking up with hopeful eyes. "You wait," she chastizes the pup, while the food is unpacked from the bag.
    "So, uhh... I went to talk to Mercy before we left," she remarks - then glances towards Agnes. "She's some sort of... werecoyote. Or coyote shape shifter. Or... something. Apparently she has a lot of experience with werewolves. She was raised with them."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Agnes takes Cael's hand with a smile, and Jon seems content to be 'claimed.' There's an odd comfort to it, a feeling that if something goes wrong Cael will surely be there to protect him. It's a feeling he's rarely had in his life--Martin's particular brand of possessiveness is more a fear of being replaced--and it's not like he doesn't have his own feelings in that vein, to some degree. His is more about helping and protecting his friends than anything possessive, but he kind of gets it. Sort of.

    They settle down on the bench, Agnes on one side of Cael and Jon on the other. Agnes blinks at Cael. "/Coyote/ shapeshifter? Oh, is she, umm..." She hesitates, and then says, "Indigenous? That's... that's an appropriate... word, right? Elias used to call them..." She stops, and flushes darker. "Bad words," she finishes, and pulls out a chip from the box to stuff it in her mouth.

    "I can only imagine," Jon says with a smirk, and shakes his head. "Native American or indigenous seem to be acceptable terms, yes. Or the specific, umm, group. Nation?" He frowns. "I've been trying to learn more about them since they've been here long beofre any of /my/ ancestors. I'd like to talk to her some time, if she'd be willing."

    Then they look over at Cael. "How'd the talk go?"

Cael Becker has posed:
    "It went alright," Cael admits, picking up a piece of fish. "Which one is this?" she asks - before taking a bite. "Mmm.
    "Anyways, she's iffy about Bear. Managed to, you know, talk her into letting me have him there, in the end." Bear looks up, hearing his name, and thumps his tail a few times hopefully. Sausage? "So that helped. She- I told her our plan, or I guess my plan, was to lock myself up for the full moon until we could be sure the tattoo was working. She thinks... she didn't seem to think much of that. She seems to think trapping 'my animal' will just make it harder to control. She, uhh... Wants me and her to go out somewhere into the middle of nowhere. Alone."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Cod," Jon says in reply, and then listens, and hmms softly.

    "Well... I'd defer to her experience on the matter, at least as a knee-jerk reaction. I mean, I'm not... the Archivists have run into plenty of were-creatures, but it's not been an area of expertise. Many of them are reluctant to share their secrets, and understandably so."

    They frown as they pull a chip out of the box, chewing it and pondering. "I... can see the idea, though. No animal wants to be caged. And the only /real/ problem with 'running free' is that you might hurt someone you come across. But in the middle of nowhere, with someone fully in control of their change? You might be able to... learn how to control it better."

    He looks down at the box, frowning. "I... I tried to do research, but this is a little... I know that it's likely that what you are is attached to Anubis somehow. It's something that existed in the past, among his priests, but they deliberate kept it so secret there's very little in the Archive. And nothing in the historical record."

    "El--Jonah was working through an Alpha," Agnes says suddenly. "I know that much. I overheard them talking, I didn't really put two and two together until you changed. I..." She flushes again. "I thought 'Alpha' was just a Greek letter designation. I didn't know... wolves don't actually /work/ that way, you know? Umm. The leaders of the packs are just... the parents. So I didn't realize what 'Alpha' meant, until I went online and looked some things up. But... there was a person who Jonah was working with, and that person was in charge of the whole pack. But you killed that one, right?"

    Jon is looking at Agnes in horror. "You... looked up... 'alphas'... online?" His tone is a little strangled.

    "I didn't look at any of the weird stuff!" Agnes protests. "I mean, ewww, why would you want--you know what? Never mind."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "I'll admit it makes sense. I just- the thought of hurting someone terrifies me - you know? So I'm probably not thinking about any of this clearly." She takes another nibble of the cod, then picks up the sausage, breaking off a piece of it to toss to Bear. This is greedily gobbled up, before he looks up expectantly for more.
    "Why Anubis?" she adds in a quiet mutter. "He is such a dick." After letting out a sigh, she picks up another piece of fish, looking to Jon for identification before she'll try it as well.
    "We killed the alpha," Cael agrees. "But there's still members of the pack out there, and we need to find them before they do... too much harm. But I guess, umm... That's a job for //next// full moon."
    Abruptly she adds, "How much do we know about this Mercy woman, anyways? Are we sure we can trust her? Or- ...or am I just being paranoid?"

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "That's the snapper," Jon says. "And why Anubis? It's more the other way around. It's not that the werewolves worship Anubis. So far as I can tell, Anubis granted this power to some of his priests. Given something Marc told me about what he saw while he was dead, I suspect that that pack has been mis-using the power. Anubis is a jerk, but he's not /evil/. He wouldn't condone killing random people. Tracking down and killing people who need killing? Possible--similar to myself, or the Ghost Riders. But not innocents."

    He looks to Cael. "That alone implies to me that this /is/ controllable. That, in fact, if you can figure things out it might be more easily controllable than a /lot/ of shapeshifting. And... I... I know you don't want to keep the power. I don't blame you. But at least--while you /have/ it..."

    Agnes frowns thoughtfully, bites her lip in an unconscious imitation of her father. "Cael... didn't you tell me... I mean, you aren't afraid of accidentally hurting someone with your gun, because you train a bunch, right? Maybe... maybe this Mercy lady can help you with that. Training, I mean. The, umm, the jackal-ness." She looks to Jon. "If she can be trusted."

    Jon sighs. "I... well... no, we don't know her, but she /did/ have a key to the Velvet Room. That kind of implies..." A huff. "Look, in the magical world, a lot of times you stumble on people right when you need them. You need help with something, and boom, you run into the very person who can best help you. Happens all the time. My gut says... that's what this is. She didn't give me any bad vibes or anything."

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael looks between the two, listening. She doesn't hide the uneasiness she's feeling, and as they fall silent, she remains silent as well, leaning into Jon, and nibbling at more of the snapper as she considers what they have to say.
    She thinks she likes the snapper a little more than the cod, but that's hardly here nor there at the moment.
    "Okay," Cael finally agrees. "I can't let myself be paralyzed by fear here. So... We give it a try," she decides She gives Jon a small smile as she adds, "I just- I think part of it is that I don't like the idea of you being so far from me when I'm- going through this. You know." She also turns a small, grateful smile on Agnes for the girl's thoughts on the subject.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon sighs, and wraps an arm around Cael to pull her in close. "I know, love," they murmur. "But..." They sigh again, trying to find the words to express what they're feeling.

    "Maybe it's good to... I mean, we don't know if there's a cure. And if there is, and you want it? I will help you do whatever it takes to find it and see it happen. But I have the sinking feeling that if the pack doesn't know what to do, you're going to have to talk to the gods, and I don't have the best track record with Anubis." They sigh. "I just mean... we might be dealing with this for a while. And hopefully not. Who knows--maybe Mercy can help you find a solution. A cure. But in the meantime..."

    He swallows. "Cael, what if... what if something happens to me, and I'm hurt or... I mean, you've seen how bad off Rien is. I may not be able to be around every full moon for you. I want to be. You /know/ I want to be. But I want you to be safe and happy, more than anything else, whether I'm there or not."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "She doesn't think there's a cure," Cael confides quietly. "She says she's never heard of a cure. She- thinks this is my life, now." She blinks a little moisture out of her eyes before adding, "I know you can't be there every full moon - I mean. Depending on how long this goes on. But- if it is- if we don't have a choice in this, you can't- I can't expect you to be there every full moon, from now on." It just isn't realistic.
    "But it's still so new." And it still frightens her so much. "I, uhh... I'll be okay, though. And I know you've got my back, Jon - I do. Hell, I know Agnes does, too." She turns her head just enough to give Agnes a smile, before tucking in against Jon again.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon rests his head on Cael's for a moment, blinking back tears. "I--" He stops. Swallows. "Gods, I'm so sorry. I... I encouraged you to come work with us, and come out on the full moon with us, and I /knew/ they were were-creatures, I should've thought..."

    He closes his eyes. "If there's a way to fix this, we'll find it. I promised. It's just... gods, I don't know /how/. I... I'm supposed to know how."

    Agnes, eating the fish, frowns. "I suppose it must be different if you get the powers later in life, but--is it /that/ bad? I mean, well, yes, you're dangerous, but... but so am I. I used to burn anyone I touched. I... horribly scarred one of my nannies, because I just wanted a hug." She picks at the fish a bit. "I don't know. I just... I wish I could help. I wish you weren't so scared of yourself."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Jon, I made a choice. //I// knew the dangers, too," Cael counters in a firm, no-nonsense tone. "Don't go blaming yourself again. I'm- yeah, I'm hurting over this, but... it doesn't make it your fault." She gives her arm around Jon a squeeze, befoe giving Agnes an incredulous look. If anyone has the right to be scared of her... it's Agnes.
    "I tried to eat you!" she protests. This statement gets a very strange look from an elderly couple strolling by, who hurry past murmuring about the need for a hearing test. They //can't// have heard that right.
    "Somehow... this'll all be okay in the end. Somehow." She believes in her friends too much for any other alternative.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "And I almost burned the flat down and killed you!" Agnes protests in return. That poor couple /really/ are going to go for a hearing check, huh? "And /you/ weren't even totally in control of yourself! I /was/! And I... I /have/ to learn to... /control/ this! I get mad and I try to burn things down, and there's no... there's no cure, there's no /fix/, this is just who I /am/!"

    "Hey," Jon says softly, reaching out the arm that's wrapped around Cael to grip Agnes' wrist, gently. "It's okay. We talked about this, remember? You have power, you can hurt people, that doesn't make you /bad/. It's part of how you are. But /anyone/ can lash out in anger. /Anyone/ can hurt another without trying. And so it's important for /everyone/ to learn to take charge of their own emotions and reactions. And if you do that, you'll have control over the fire. Right?"

    Agnes looks away, sniffling a bit. "Right," she murmurs. "Sorry, Cael." A pause. "Umm... I think this is the haddock." She offers out a piece of fish, like an olive branch. "Want to try some?"

Cael Becker has posed:
    "I'm not mad at you, Agnes. I'm not, we- we went over that. I- you did what you had to do. I don't know- how I would have coped, if I'd hurt you." God, or killed the girl. That thought is still what fueld much of her fear. She takes the offered haddock, though, smiling down at Bear as he whines at the trio, and tries licking at first Cael, and then Agnes' hands - prompting Cael to pull the fish out of his reach.
    "We're a real mess, huh?" she adds. "But we'll, ummm... We get through it together. Right? I- you're both my family now, and I'm not letting go of that. Not ever."
    After a nibble she adds, "Honestly, I think the snapper's my favorite."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon closes their eyes and just leans into Cael, blinking back tears. "I feel like I should be more scared. I really do. I... I'm sorry that I'm not... it's just... you killed Elias, Cael. And my heart keeps telling me anything that hurt that... /bastard/ can't be that bad. I'm sorry I'm not being more... supportive." A deep breath. "But we'll get through this. Yeah. We will."

    They hesitate for a moment. "What's your gut tell you, about what Mercy's talking about? Underneath the fear, I mean."

    Agnes, for her part, smiles and leans into Cael just a little--she's still having trouble with touching, herself--and then offers Bear a surreptitious bit of fish.

Cael Becker has posed:
    "You're trying, Jon. You //are// here for me. You are. I don't feel abandoned," Cael reassures him, just glad to have their presence there with her - reassuring her. Grounding her - and helping her to //think// when her panicked mind just wants to shut down. She's surrounded by her family - how could she be any safer than right now?
    "I- she seemed like a straight shooter, honestly. She seemed like... she believes the things she's saying. Which I mean- frightens me a little." What if there isn't a cure? What if this is her life? Why would Anubis ever free her? Maybe only if he hated the thought that she'd be associated with him.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon frowns. "Because she might be right," he says slowly. "Because maybe there's no cure. Not... not one that lets you live."

    He sighs. "I wish... I know you look at what I did back in January as giving up. Accepting that I'd die, and just trying to find a way /back/. But sometimes... sometimes that's the way to /not/ give up. If there's no cure, /really/ no cure, then banging your head against that wall forever won't do anything but make us all miserable. Sometimes..."

    He hesitates, then says slowly, "When you come from people who have been battered, and beaten, and scattered... when you know that the world is against you from the moment you're born, because of how you look or your identity... you learn to fight the battles you can. I think, sometimes, that's the thing we don't understand about each other. I know, all too well, that sometimes there is /nothing/ you can do, without dying." He taps the side of his head. "Sometimes the only way to survive is to adapt. The adaptations aren't always healthy, or good, but... we're still here. We're still alive." A smirk. "India threw out the Raj and the old Empire built on our wealth is fading. The Archive still carries the memory of Kemet, the pyramids still stand, even if Rome tried to burn it all down. I'm here, I'm myself, even if I was fated to die. You know? That's not giving up, to me. That's fighting smart."

    He turns to regard Cael seriously. "But, okay, straight shooter--do you really think she has some ulterior motive, then? You spoke to her more than I did."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "This life is better than no life," Cael says firmly. She's not going anywhere. She's not leaving Jon and Agnes. Her arm tightens, holding to him fiercely. "I just... I need to hope. You know?"
    She lets out a heavy sigh before she adds, "And maybe I wasn't hated immediately for my skin, but- ...I didn't exactly have it easy, you know? Different experiences, yeah, but- I took my lumps."
    She lets out a bitter laugh before adding, "There's still part of me that wants to scream, and rage and- throw things at the wall. But what good would that really do me? I just- I know I'm not ready to give up yet. You know?"
    She takes a deep breath, and finishes the bit of fish in her hand. She follows this up with a couple of chips before she'll speak again. "I don't know if she does. I mean, people who tell you they can just //tell// if someone is lying? They're usually fooling themselves. That's not how that works. I just- I don't see the angle, you know? I don't see what she would get out of it."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon ponders as he chews on the fish. "That's not--I just mean... we look at the world differently. You think the world should be fair, and just. I know it isn't. Maybe it should be, but it isn't. I don't /expect/ it to be. And so I try to trick it, to get what I'm owed, instead of raging at it. Those are both valid approaches. But I just..."

    He frowns. "You still see it as 'giving up,' is all I mean. And it isn't. If you go with Mercy and learn active control, that isn't giving up. That's refusing to give into fear and stay in a cage."

    After a moment, Jon picks up a piece of fish and says, "I agree, though, about Mercy. Well, no, I see what she gets out of it. She helps someone. She ingratiates herself to a group that might be able to help her. You owe her a favor, maybe. None of that's /bad/, though. It's just... social interaction."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "I don't expect it to be fair and just. I- I just feel compelled to try to make it that way. So fewer people have to go through all the shit I did. You know?" After a sigh she adds, "It's not that I think I'm giving up, Jon. I- I know we have to find a way to live with this, for as long as it lasts, because I'm //not// giving up. I just... I //know// I can't hurt anyone if I'm locked up, with you, or Lydia, or Moon Knight, or //someone// like that to keep an eye on me. And there's still the chance I will hurt someone if we don't do that. It's a matter of... of deciding how big that risk is. If I'm okay with it or not."
    With no food in her hands for the moment, Cael worries them together, gently twisting at her fingers as she talks. "But like I said, I think we give it a go, I only wish there was someway you could be nearby. Or keeying an eye on me."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "But... that depends on someone always being there, able to watch over you. So what happens the time that there isn't anyone? If the Mission's destroyed?" Jon shakes his head. "If you're determined not to hurt anyone, then you have to take responsibility for seeing to that /yourself/. And if a were-coyote says caging you is only going to make things worse? I think maybe we should /listen/ to her."

    He hesitates. Glances over at Agnes for a moment. Then says, "I've been... Cael, I can't..." A pause. "Why /me/? I mean, Marc's /very/ powerful at the full moon. Lydia's a vampire, and already proved she can handle going toe-to-toe with you. Why /me/, and not just 'someone I know better than Mercy?'"

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael pulls back enough to give Jon an incredulous look. "Why you?" she repeats. She reaches out and rests her (slightly greasy) hand against Jon's face as she looks into his brown eyes. "Mariposa, that should answer itself. Because there's no one I trust more than you. Because I- I feel safer with you. Because I feel loved. Because- because I know you'd do anything, and stop at nothing to keep me safe. Why you?" She shakes her head slightly.
    A couple of tears streak down her cheek as she adds, "I just want you there with me. But I'll be okay. This is, uhhh... probably necessary."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "I know all of that, I /know/ all of that, I just..."

    Jon swallows, and looks away. "I... always presume you want me to /fix/ the problem. And--and I... I /can't/ fix this, Cael. Not right now. I can be there, I can support you, but I feel... /responsible/. Not for supporting you, but for..."

    He frowns, focusing on the water. Agnes, seeming to sense the tension, abruptly gets up and grabs Bear's leash. "C'mon, Bear! Let's go for a walk!" She smiles at them both. "I'm fine. Don't worry. Have your talk. I'll be..." She gestures vaguely toward a copse of trees and then goes off with the dog in tow.

    Jon hunches his shoulders. "Didn't mean to chase her off," he grumbles.

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Yeah, well, we were getting a little awkward. Uhh... what kid wants to see their dad, and their girlfriend... anyways." Cael lets out a sigh, and then leans forward and abruptly kisses Jon.
    "You aren't responsible. It's not your fault. I- I do need you. I'm- I know you've been going through a lot, so I've been holding it together, but now it's the full moon again and I just- I'm scared, and you know how I am about being scared." And how she never //stays// scared. She'd rather be angry - but where can she direct that anger?
    "I'll be alright," she promises. "I just wish, you know?" She wishes he could be there - somehow. Instead of some woman she only just met.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon shakes his head. He accepts the kiss, but still he shakes his head. "No, that's--Cael, I feel like you're... sitting on this, waiting for me to get better. Waiting for me to /save/ you. I can't--I can't always be the one saving you. If you really want to get rid of this, then you need to start looking, while I'm having trouble. Or ask for help from someone else, or--or something. Because I feel like I have to get better as fast as I can, so I can fix this for you. And maybe... maybe that's not what you /mean/, but it's how I /feel/."

    He turns away again. "When you said--Mercy feels like a godsend. Someone who can help you. Someone who /actually/ understand this, because--because I /don't/, Cael. I'm floundering. And the idea that someone else can help you? It's a /relief/. That if there's a solution, maybe she can help you find it. That if there isn't, she can help you learn to live with this. It's just... I don't..."

    He frowns. "It's not... fair, because I know you'll help me, and be here, and--and I feel safe with you and... maybe I'm... a little... maybe..."

    They swallow, and look down at their hands. "I feel /safe/ with you, Cael. You could--tear apart anything that hurt me. And you want to put that away." They laugh. "And of course you do! I just--it's just--been nice, to be..."

    They shake their head. "No. Sorry. Look, that's not... important. Not really. It's..." They reach up to rub at their face. "I'm just all kinds of messed up, right now."

Cael Becker has posed:
    Jon's words make her ache. None of them are particularly cruel, but each one is a small needle jabbing at her, as she sits there tucked in against them, squeezing her eyes closed. She can't ask them to stop - after all, it's how Jon feels. Should she, can she, really shut that out?
    But it hurts. Knowing that they feel pressured by her need. Hearing them //voice// their desire that she... stay this way. It hurts. "I mean- Lydia's looking into it. She has her idea with the mirror. Though- though when I mentioned it to Mercy, she didn't seem convinced it would work, and was concerned it could just... kill me." She lets out a heavy sigh. "I- If I knew how to solve this, Jon, I- Magic is still so beyond me. I wouldn't know how to start looking. And spending hours in a library going over books I can barely begin to understand, about something that- that scares me this much... But I don't mean to make you feel this way. I don't."
    A few tears sneak down her cheeks, whether she wills it or not. "So who else do I talk to? Because Mercy can't help me //cure// this. She doesn't think it's possible. Lydia's already looking into it. Rien... isn't well. Do I go knocking on the door of the Sorcerer Supreme? 'Hey, don't know if you remember me but you once cracked into pieces and blew like dust into my hair - can you cure my lycanthropy?' Where am I supposed to turn?" If not... to you.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Marc," Jon says immediately. "He's been studying the pack that changed you. He had that cage prepared already. If nothing else, maybe he can help you track down the pack. And maybe... maybe I can help you with that. Or maybe, when I'm better, it's research that's been done in my absence. But it's--"

    They finally turn back to her. "If you had cancer, would you expect me to figure out your treatment plan? Just because I'm a medical doctor? You'd expect my emotional support. You'd expect me to help you with drugs, or take you to chemo appointments. You'd want my /help/ making decisions. But I'm not the /expert/. And I'm not /you/. If you were still capable of making your own decisions--wouldn't you be taking charge of your own care? Learning what you could? Or would you really just--let me take over? Take care of it all for you?"

    He shakes his head. "That's... that's why you don't treat your loved ones. Because then... you're not asking me to... to /support/ you here. You don't know what's going on and you're looking to me as an expert. And in this, I'm not. And it's not that I'm not helping you it's just--you expect me to have the answers. Always. And then you tell me you can't turn to anyone else."

    A pause. Then, "But gods fucking damn it, Cael, if you /mean/ that you don't want to be a fucking were-jackal? Then /yes/, I expect you to knock on Strange's door if that's what it takes. Why am /I/ supposed to be the only one who pulls out all the bloody stops? That's--that's what I mean here. I feel like if I don't do this for you, then you're just waiting until I can. And that's not fair."

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael's posture shifts on the bench, perhaps uncomfortably, and her head turns slightly - away from Jon, to stare out across the park. There's a part of her that wants to run. It's probably not healthy - that desire to run from conflict, and so she simply sits there in silence for a while, instead.
    "You're not wrong." But how does she explain it? Explain her whys, and her- "I still don't understand- it still very much feels like //your// world that I've been drawn into, and I don't understand it. I'm trying to, but I feel so- lost. So- I don't know how to navigate. I don't expect you to fix everything yourself, but I wish- I just could use a guide. Someone to tell me who to talk to. Where to look." Her voice is quiet, but it sounds reasonably calm, despite the tears streaking quietly down her cheek.
    "I should have talked to Marc, you're right. That's- it should have been obviously. I think- the whole thing scares me so much, overwhelms me so much, that- that when I could focus on something else- I jumped at the chance to try to help you, and to not think about... this, and then- the full moon just- It cae sooner than I thought. You know?"

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "I can guide you, love. I can tell you who to talk to. That's fine. That's--to be expected, even. If I had to deal with the FBI, I might ask you who I should be talking to. What I should say. I just--I can't help. Do you... do you know how much that... I thought I had to become an expert on werewolves, because it had to be /me/ that helped. You know?" Jon sighs. "A little foolish."

    He hesitates, and then says, "Cael, I--this park, I used to sit here and eat fish and chips with my friends. With Alya. And--and then I couldn't. Because she was dead, and because of Elias. We moved away, and I still... I just kept panicking, thinking he was going to show up someday. No matter what I did, no matter how we hid. And even in New York--I warded the mirrors, even though I didn't tell Martin. I worried, all the time. Eventually it faded, the worry, but I still..."

    They reach out, to wrap their arm around Cael again. "I... it's selfish of me. It's not that I want you to be a were-jackal, or have the amulet. It's--just--I want someone to protect me. To keep me safe. I--you feel safe with me. You trust me more than anyone else. You know I'd do anything, and stop at nothing, to keep you safe. And I--I want to feel that. I want to have that. And it's not like... it's not like you have to be a bloody were-jackal, that's not--it was just, I /felt/ that, when you killed Elias. I /feel/ that, right now. I feel safer with you, here, nearly at the full moon, than I ever have in--gods, longer than I can remember. Even with Old Ones coming after us. I want to keep feeling that. But I can't ask you to stay something you hate, just for that."

    They sigh. "I suppose it's more just--being able to feel that /without/ you being a 9-foot death machine sometimes, you know?" A mirthless chuckle.

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael nods wordlessly, glad that Jon seemed to accept her explination. That, at least, was one less thing that they had to fight about - an if Jon could guide her? She may find her answers still.
    She tilts her head back towards Jon again, as their hands wrap around her - but his words still make her ache, and for a while she isn't sure how to respond. Does she simply bite her tongue? What good does that do? Does she voice her thoughts, and risk hurting them when they're already vulnerable?
    "I wish I was enough, just on my own, to make you feel that way. I'd- Jon, you know I wouldn't give up. I'd move heaven and earth, I'd so whatever I had to, to get you home to me, and to Agnes - everytime. Without fail. I picked up amulet in large part so I could- be other there. With //you.// I'll always find a way. And if I can't... Then I'll find a way to make them fucking pay. I wish knowing that was enough."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon swallows, tries to blink away tears that fall anyway. "Maybe it's just--maybe I just need to say... I hurt. I hurt, and I'm scared, and--and I want you to hold me. Protect me. Chase the nightmares away. But I... I usually feel like you do, right now. That... that you're recovering, still. That you're scared, and hurting, so I can't--do that. Can't reach out."

    They sigh. "And I know... that's silly. We can help each other. I just... gods. It's not just that I think you need me to be strong all the time. That's not--fair, to put it on you."

    He frowns. "Maybe... maybe I'm afraid to admit how... terrified I am. How much I need you. I worry that... that if I stop, if I can't hold everything up, then everything will fall apart. Not just you. Everyone."

    Softly, "But then--I'm afraid it /would/ go on. Someone else would pick it up, and be fine, and--and forget all about me." A pause. "Chas says people care about me for more than that. I know you love me for more than that. This isn't--you. It's... me, being afraid to be a burden. Because if... if I'm crazy, if I'm sick, you'll... you'll threaten to... to put me away, maybe. Like my grandmother did. If I'm too much to... handle."

    They bury their face in her hair. "That's not your fault. It's just me. My insecurities. I'm sorry."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Even when I'm scared and hurt, I'll move the heavens for you. I was still scared and hurt when I took up the amulet," Cael reminds Jon softly.
    She takes a deep breath, then pulls away from Jon - but only so she can turn her tear-streaked face towards him. "I would never want to send you away. I would want to keep you with me, to do everything I could to help and support you... myself. No matter what. I would only- if I thought it was the only way to help you, then I might have to do something like that, but I'd hate every moment, and I'd visit you as often as they'd have me, and I'd bring you back home as soon as I could. But Jon- That's- We're nowhere near that."
    She reaches her hand out to touch their cheek again as she adds, "I mean... you feel the same, yeah?"

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon swallows, and then manages a smile. "I know," he says softly. "But it's good to hear. It's not--look, when I--it's okay for you to ask, when I get... when I say hurtful things, if I'm... if it's really you, or all this damn insecurity. Okay? I don't like hurting you, getting to the point of saying what I need to say."

    They lean into the touch on their cheek. "I would never send you somewhere like that. I've worked in those places. I know what they are. Maybe--it'd have to be really bad. /Really/ bad. But I know what you mean."

    A sigh. "I'm sorry. I'm just... hurting, and processing a lot, and I really just want to be here and enjoy this. Look at the water. Enjoy the food. But, look, I'll pop over to the Velvet Room and send you to New York through a portal on Tuesday, okay? And then get you back the same way Wednesday morning. And you can tell me all about how it went."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "I don't meant to hurt you either, Jon," Cael promises him quietly. "I mean, I want you to be well, of course. To be happy. But... I don't want you to feel forced by me, or rush. I- it's okay if you're unwell. I am here for you. I didn't mean to make you feel-" She blinks away a few tears, before her words shift.
    "Maybe part of it's that I haven't been honest about how much this is all- I wanted to be strong for you, you know? But- it's only been a month since I tried to kill your daughter, and I still can't- she's my //family.// I care about her. And that thought that I- that any part of me-" She blinks away tears as she adds, "I still have nightmares about it. So I'm trying to be okay, but- but I'm not. I'm not okay."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon laughs softly. "We can be not okay together. If I don't have to be strong for you, then you don't have to be strong for me. We can be fucked up together. That's why we have friends, right? It's not just us. Other people can help, if we're both just complete /wrecks/."

    They sigh, and reach out, and try to pull Cael in to tuck her in under their chin. "I'm sorry that I--it's not that I /forgot/ that you went after Agnes. It's that it's... it wasn't /you/. When you had control, you went after /Jonah/. Not anyone I care about. But that's... of course that's going to haunt you. I just don't know how to help. But if I can, I will. And if I can't--I'm here, while you figure out how to get rid of it. Okay?"

Cael Becker has posed:
    "I just need it gone, or I need to- to be sure I'm not a risk. That I can control this. That I'll always be //me// and not that- monster again."
    Tears streak down her cheeks as she whispers softly. "God, Jon, I don't want to be a monster."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon leans down to press a kiss to her hair. "We'll figure it out. One way or another. And if--if you ever are? People will be there to stop you. The gods warned us, that night. I don't know... maybe it was because Agnes was in danger, and she's attached to Sekhmet. I don't know."

    They sigh. "I can't promise you'll always be safe, Cael. I can't. /Nothing/ is risk-free. I know you know that. But Agnes had a point--think of it like a gun. On the night of the full moon, make sure you're not anywhere you might hurt someone. But I mean, honestly, if you and Mercy go out into a state park or something and some random person is out there at night, where wildlife might be? A bear might've gotten them too. That's just asking for trouble. But that's what I mean--if someone ran onto the shooting range while you're practicing you'll feel bad if you hit them but also 'what the fuck, that was stupid.' Just... think of it like your guns. Maybe that'll help?"

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Maybe," Cael answers quietly. "Maybe it will. I just- I don't need you to solve this for me. I don't need you to be the expert. But I need- Give me a push sometimes. Point me in the right direction. Because I think- the idea of no being me, it scares me so much I just- I don't like to think about it. I think I've been finding any excuse to avoid it. Until fate," or the Velvet Room? "dropped someone in my lap."
    The arm she's wrapped back around Jon as she sits there, tucked under his chin, gives a little squeeze. "We'll be alright... We'll be alright. We have to be - for each other. For Agnes. We'll be alright."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Whatever happens," Jon says. "Although--it's alright to not be alright, sometimes. Or all the time. We can work toward it."

    They look up and over to where Agnes is still with the dog. "Should we call her back? Tell her we're done not-quite fighting?" A pause. "I /am/ sorry. Maybe I'm--maybe your tension at the full moon is translating to me?"

    The press their lips together, sudden laughter bubbling up. Then, teasingly, "You could bite my hand if it'll make you feel better."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "God, love, it would make me feel so much worse," Cael answers with a faint laugh. She lifts Jon's hand - and gives it a gentle kiss instead, before twining her fingers in with theirs. "Call her back," she agrees. "...our chips are getting cold."
     Giving Jon's hand a squeeze she offers, "And for what it's worth... you know I'm sorry, too."