Difference between revisions of "9528/Path of Glory: Expiry Date"

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Latest revision as of 07:54, 21 January 2022

Path of Glory: Expiry Date
Date of Scene: 07 January 2022
Location: Cael and Sara's Temporary Quarters: The Triskelion
Synopsis: With Archangel Raphael's two week grace period expired, Cael's trauma breaks through the dam, overwhelming her. Jon does his best to get her back on her feet - with coffee, a little whiskey, a breakfast burrito, and song - while they talk through the changes in their relationship.
Cast of Characters: Cael Becker, Jonathan Sims
Tinyplot: Path of Glory


Cael Becker has posed:
    It's the seventh - the day after the Angelic Host arrived in Manhattan, and Cael has opted not to leave her bed today. It's practically expected as the flood of pain, anxiety, and depression that had been held back by Raphael's gift began seeping through failing cracks in the dam at midnight. When morning finally comes, she stays right where she is - sprawled out in her bed in sweat pants and an oversized shirt, clinging to massive pup lying on the bed before her, with her blankets pulled around and over her.
    She wanted to be stronger than this. She wanted to be strong enough. She wanted to be there for Jon, and the people of Manhattan - and all of reality.
    Why did it have to hurt so bloody much?

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon comes by in the morning, bringing back the bottle of expensive whiskey and also bringing breakfast burritos and a coffee from the Trisk food court just in case Cael hasn't eaten. He knocks softly and is let in by Alis, who he quietly asks to stay outside, to let them talk.

    He looks... worn, tired, but better than he might. He's been eating and sleeping, insisted on by Martin, but it's still all... a lot. He's dressed in black fatigues, the rest of the tac gear not on just yet.

    He stands just inside the door, holding food and whiskey and coffee, and peers at Cael on the bed. At her aura, suddenly dimmed again. He sighs. "Hey," he says softly. "How're you doing?"

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Not great, Jon," Cael answers, without emerging from her cocoon of blankets - or pulling away from the patient, stoic form of Bear who does his best to comfort his owner, periodically letting out a whine, and nudging or licking her. ...that's probably why she has the blankets pulled over her head, in fact.
    "I thought- I hoped... God, I hoped Raphael gave me this much time because he knew I could heal enough in that time." It was the one and only //hopeful// theory - the others had for the most part been darker. "But it hurts so much...!"
    Even as she says it, she feels a pang of additional pain. Jon is still afraid of what's to come. He doesn't need to see her like this again...

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Well... can you stand to have me in the room with you? Because if so... I'd say that's progress." Jon starts to walk over toward the bed, eyeing Bear and then looking to see if there's a place to set down the things he's carrying without the dog accidentally knocking it over.

    He finally settles himself on the edge of the bed, next to Bear, putting the food in his lap and then twisting to offer both coffee and whiskey to Cael over the dog's head. "I didn't know if you'd eaten or anything, so... thought I'd bring something by."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Haven't really had the appetite," Cael admits - but she can smell the coffee, and even the strong scent of coffee doesn't completely hide the underlying hint of whiskey. She lifts her head from Bear, and from the protection of her blankets just enough to peer out at Jon with eyes red, and puffy from crying - and she's immediately rewarded with a lick from the dog's tongue. "Ugh. Bear..."
    She shoves at the dog as she struggles up to a sitting position on her bed, keeping her blankets wrapped around herself, and unable to keep her gaze locked onto Jon for long. She does reach out for the coffee after a few moments, though.
    "How're you today?" she asks quietly, while staring down at the cup.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Worried," Jon admits. "Not just about you, lest you start to beat yourself up. The angels are moving out to secure positions in the city and we don't know why; I'm working on putting together teams to investigate. A lot of people are streaming in... I think it didn't hit properly for some of them until just yesterday." He runs a hand through his hair.

    "But... I /am/ worried about you. And... wishing I could figure out what to do to help you. Hoping..."

    He stares at her for a long, long moment. Then says softly, "I'll understand if you can't be around me again. But... you know I'm here, right? Always."

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael lifts her head to simply study Jon for a moment, her expression uncertain, and worried, before a small smile flits across her features. "No," she tells him. "That's, uh... that's shifted at least. I guess maybe those two weeks of therapy weren't a complete waste after all." That's good to know.
    She forces herself to take a sip of the coffee, while her free hand fingers at Bear's fur. "I want to be there to help you - to help win this fight."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Something tight and worried in Jon relaxes at that smile and he breathes out long and low. "Oh," he says, voice a little thready. "Oh, that's... good." He laughs, softly. "That's... rather a relief, actually. I, ahh, given... everything, I didn't /really/ want to start... fighting, or..."

    He stops and looks at Cael, considering. "I wonder if... if Raphael gave you time to... come to terms with your feelings. Because I rather think that might have been a lot of what was getting in the way, before. You... had feelings toward me you didn't understand, and you couldn't process everything properly because you weren't... looking at it through the right lens."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Wait, you think-" Cael looks puzzled by Jon's suggestion - but hey, at least it's a temporary distraction from her abject misery. She takes another sip of the coffee as she considers his words, turning them over slowly in a mind that's not functioning with all of its bandwidth. "I mean, I guess that- yeah, that would have helped make a mess of things. And you think Raphael knew?" Was //that// why he told her to have Jon's back? Did it have nothing to do with the 'trial' at all?
    ...no. The trial still had to at least be a factor.
    "You were really worried I'd turn you away, huh?"

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "I... yes. I mean, you... you were so... you just couldn't stand to look at me, and I knew it was because you kept seeing..." Jon shakes his head. "We needn't dwell on that, now. But if any of the archangels would know, it would be Raphael. Ahh, he... well, some of his patronage is... love. Romantic love." He glances away, embarassed, and rubs at the back of his neck.

    "We... can wait to talk about that until you're feeling better. Or deal with it now. Up to you. I... think you should try to eat, though?" He offers the takeaway box in his lap. "Breakfast burritos. I, umm, you liked bacon, right? I swear you liked bacon." He has perfect recall, he should be more certain of this.

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Bacon's fine," Cael replies, flashing Jon a small, and briefly amused smile. After another sip of her coffee, she leans over Bear to set the rest of the drink on a bedside table - only to get licked in the face once more. "You're the worst!" she grumbles good-naturedly, before letting out a sigh.
    She scoots a little closer to Jon, blankets still wrapped around her shoulders before she asks, "So - what? He gives me a little space to- for us to start to sort things out? So that- So I could manage to be there for you, and you could manage to- I dunno. Help me get over my issues?"
    But does Jon have the time for that? As much as she might want it...

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Or maybe just because Michael did a cruel thing to you, and he wanted to give you a chance to sort things out properly. Not everything has to be about this bloody game. Maybe that's all it is--maybe it's just 'boost the Champion's morale,' but... maybe it's just because he saw you hurting and wanted to help." Jon sighs. "Helping, ahh... loving couples is part of his Purpose. It may have been no more than that." A smirk. "I suppose that puts a point on the board for 'Heaven doesn't mind polyamory,' at least."

    He scoots himself in a bit more too, still offering out the food, and reaching out with his other hand to absently pat Bear's shoulder. "Honestly I don't care /why/ he did it, I'm just grateful that he did. I don't want to see you hurting. I... care about you. A lot." Yeah, nope, anything else still gets stuck in his throat. Damn.

Cael Becker has posed:
    After another scoot, Cael ends up tucked against Jon - and she just stays there a moment, leaning her head against his shoulder, and offering no comment or reply. Being here, like this - the roar of pain and roil of emotions begins to calm and dim, and that was by far more important to her than any damned breakfast burrito.
    She does in the end, though, pick it up - tearing open one of the packets of hotsauce and squeezing it on before she'll take a bite.
    Finally she offers a quiet, "Maybe I need to stop overthinking the gifts I'm offered. Maybe the why doesn't really matter?"
    After a second bite she adds softly, "I care about you too, Jon."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon scoots around a bit to wrap his arm around around Cael's shoulders and pull her closer without interfering /too/ much with the eating of the burrito. Hopefully. She really does need food and coffee (and probably alcohol.) He lets his emotional aura out a bit, radiating comfort and calm and, well, love. He can't seem to help that.

    "So," he says softly, "I talked to Martin. He... wasn't remotely surprised." He sighs. "Par for the course, it seems; the man's more observant than even I give him credit for. He likes you, friendly-wise, and... he's okay with whatever we want to do. Though obviously, umm, you two should probably talk too."

    A pause, then, "No rush, though. Regardless of anything, I'm not going anywhere, not long-term." He hesitates, then. "Though... this /is/ war. Something could happen. Something almost did. So I suppose, if you choose to rush, don't do it for my sake--I'll wait."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "...I really meant to talk to him first," Cael murmurs quietly. "I wanted to- I mean... I assumed he'd tell me to fuck off. You're his //husband//. And besides, I figured you probably didn't even like... you know, girls." She takes a deep breath in, letting it out slowly - it's still hard to believe that kiss hadn't exploded in her face. "I'll talk to him," she promises. "As soon as I feel up to it. Just, you know, don't really know when that'll be."
    She continues to relax by small degree's in Jon's arm, her head resting against his shoulder, where where can hear his voice rumbling in his chest. It's comforting, and she wants nothing more than to just stay there - but sh eforces herself to lift her head and take another bite.
    "How long do you have today?" she asks. "Before you have to go."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "A while," Jon says easily. "Stop worrying for a minute, okay? Just... be here with me, right now. Let me worry about where I need to be and when I need to be there." He strokes her shoulder gently, comfortingly, more a soothing gesture than anything.

    "What's done is done. It's out there, now, and that's probably a good thing. The question is what we do going forward. I mean... Martin's okay with sharing, I'm okay with sharing... are /you/? Because that's an important question. And then even if you are... do you even want anything to change?"

    He sighs. "This is nice," he admits. "And, I... /do/ like girls, inasmuch as I like anyone. Gender's... an odd concept to me, if I'm being honest. Even moreso, now that I see auras. I cannot tell gender apart, mentally... people just look like /people/ to me. Like themselves. Gender's a category we attach to people to keep messy concepts of social roles and dress and grooming in neat boxes."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "I'm here," Cael promises Jon. She doesn't want to be anywhere //but// here right now - listening to his breathing, and the rhythmic thumping of his heart, and the soothing sound of his voice. She lets her eyes fall closed for a few breaths before she'll reply, some amusement managing to color her voice. "Do I really get a choice? Either I share you, or I walk away, or I ask you to leave your husband." That's not much of a choice in her mind - not at all. "I'm not doing the last two," she promises. "Ever.
    "I want you in my life - and I want you to be happy. That's all I want," she asserts. "So- well. However we make that happen... But I would never want to hurt you, and Martin, and Agnes." Some of her typical fierce determination starts to creep into her voice on that last statement - though she quickly relaxes again afterwards.
    AFter a few more squirts of hot sauce, and a couple more bites of the burrito she adds, "I guess I never really gave much thought to gender, honestly. I mean - I've never 'liked' anyone before. ...ever."
    Yeah, 'liked.' What is this, grade school?

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "It's a choice," Jon says softly. "A painful choice, but a choice." He absently leans his head over to rest against Cael's. "A lot of my... 'liking'... has been... odd. I don't really, ahh, find people... attractive? Sexually, I mean. It's all emotional, for me, and that's rather regardless of gender. And I suppose I should say... I'm... rather regardless of gender, myself. I'm still, ahh... getting used to that? You're only the third person I've told. It's just..."

    He sighs, and frowns for a moment. Hums softly, a rumble through chest and shoulder. "People are people. The boxes are difficult, and amorphous. I've begun to realize a lot of what I presumed were crushes were just... wanting a lot of friends. I think you're the fourth person I've... cared for this much, and the only one of those that worked out at all was Martin. So it's... strange."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Well... I choose whatever piece of you I can have - without hurting you. Without hurting your family," Cael asserts.
    She falls silence, listening to the rest of Jon's words - and staying quiet as she turns them over in her head. The half-finished burrito is back in its takeout box as she tries to sort out her own thoughts, and feelings - as much as she can, in her current turmoil.
    She only has a chance at achieving that thanks to Jon's presence.
    "I honestly don't really understand what I'm feeling," she admits. "Because this really is a first for me. I just know I feel- I don't know. I feel better like this. Grounded. More at ease. More... complete? And not having you would hurt." Will hurt?
    ...but she can't think of that right now.
    "...and I don't really think gender's a factor at all. It just doesn't matter. I want //you//."
    After a long, slow exhilation she adds, "I've only ever loved my mother, and my sister, but that's different. This is different."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon has to choke back a sob at 'I want you.' It's not a thing he's heard often in his life, regardless of the context. He squeezes Cael and sighs. Relaxing a little, himself, by degrees, knots of tension unwinding.

    "I'm scared," he admits. "I am... not unaware of the potential issues. I started as your therapist--though in retrospect I probably should not have been, given we were training partners. I'm, what... eight or nine years older than you are? And however little experience I have, it's more than you do. You came to me looking for help because you were afraid... and I don't want to take advantage of /any/ of that. I'm worried I'll break you, though..." He laughs. "You're one of the least breakable people I know, really."

    He frowns. "I think we all only get pieces of each other. We make connections, and they build something greater. It's not like I have all of Martin, nor he all of me. We've spent years not able to walk into things by each other's sides; that's what we are. That's... knowing he'll be there when I come home, always."

    He pulls away a little, to look down at Cael. "You and I... fire and water, maybe that shouldn't work, but it does. We have each other's backs. I don't know if I could have stood there yesterday, without you with me. Through all of this... I think I would have faltered, if you hadn't been there. Even when you couldn't look at me, it was because you wanted me to fight. Not... not to /kill/. But to struggle, to /try/. To... not hide myself in a little room, scared of what I'm becoming." He smiles, though he has to blink back tears. "I... I've /needed/ that. That push, that drive. I want you here, now, for however long the universe will let us."

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael lets out a laugh with nothing of humor in it. In fact, it's accompanied by a tear that streaks down one of her cheeks as she adds, "I don't feel unbreakable." She feels //broken//. "But I don't- I don't worry about you breaking me. Right now you're holding me together..."
    When Jon pulls away to look at her, she meets his gaze for a moment, then stares down at her hands, her shoulders starting to hunch inwards. "Losing you hurt to much," she admits quietly. "The thought of him taking you-" It still hurts. It will always hurt - thought she's made some sort of peace with it.
    It's his last words that make her voice catch in her throat - tears abruptly streaking down her cheeks in earnest. It takes her a moment, but in a bare whisper she adds, "Everyone I love... they die Jon. I... I feel like I doomed you," she confesses.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon turns so that he can reach down and put his hands on her cheeks, turning her face up to look at him. He's got a way of looking at people, sometimes, like he's looking /right/ into their hearts, intense and focused. Like every scrap of his attention is right there, in this moment.

    "You did not doom me, Cael," he says firmly. "I was always going to be involved, once Chas was--maybe not in the role I'm in, maybe not with this fate I have, but we're /all/ in danger, here. My fate is about /my/ choices, and I refuse to let that fate keep hold of me."

    He swallows past a lump in his throat. "You don't know how much... waking up every morning knowing you're going to beat my ass in training... talking to you while you were in Hawaii... I look forward to it, every time. The thought of losing you, it... it terrifies me, just as much as it terrifies you. When... when I thought the angel might kill you... yesterday, when I thought..."

    He shakes his head, drops his hands, so she can look away if she likes. "We're going to get through this. I know... I know I failed you, before, saying we would. I don't know /how/. I just know we /will/. We live, or we die, together, okay? Either we're paste together, or I defy every god right up to the Presence to come back to the people I love. They /owe/ us that, damn it."

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael manages to meet Jon's gaze - for the most part. Periodically, her gaze flicks off to the side, though she doesn't try to free herself from his grip as the tears continue to fall, accompanied by the sound of the periodic shakey breath. "It feels that way," she murmurs in a quiet voice - and it hurts more than she cares to express.
    Finding the right words in the face of Jon's admissions - it's hard, perhaps even impossible. She wants to beg him to come back to her, to stay himself. To not become... something else, as Alis had - but he knows this already. Doesn't he? He must.
    When she's finally released, she responds by tucking herself in against his chest again, as she tries to sort through her thoughts. "Together," she promises in a quiet voice. She doesn't particularly want to face living in a reality where she's right - and everyone she loves //does// die.
    Silence stretches out for a while before she finally asks, "You looked forward to talking to me? Even when I was a mess like that? Even when I was- when you knew I was thinking of hurting myself? You looked forward to it?"

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "I wanted to help you. I like seeing your face. The sound of your voice. I... was worried, and seeing you let me know you were okay." Jon smiles at her. "Love isn't... it's not just the good times, Cael. It's the bad, and the everything in between. I /always/ look forward to seeing you. I long for the day when your fire's finally fully undimmed, though I'm not certain I'll be able to keep up with you."

    He swallows. "Hey... talk to me? I know you're... holding back. And... look, I can take it, okay? Whatever it is... saying it gives it less power. We can work through it together."

Cael Becker has posed:
    One of her hands lifts to wipe uselessly at her eyes as Cael admits, "I just- I don't want you to die. I don't want you to come back as- as some shade, like Alis. Unchanging. Half-here. I- I don't want you to come back as some undead thing, like your friend. I don't want you changed. I want //you,//" she repeats - forcefully, and a bit desperate. "God, it terrifies me, Jon. I don't want you to die. I don't want to lose you. I don't want Michael to take you. I hate all of this - every fucking bit of it's unfair."
    One of her hands reaches up, to grip hold of Jon's shirt, as if that alone can hold him to her - and prevent what the Gods seem to have in fate for them. "Together," she says quietly. "I'd rather face Michael together, then let him take you alone. And I don't want to be left behind. I hate all of this, and I hate feeling like- we might not have a choice, or any control. I hate it."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "I hate it too," Jon says, reaching out to wrap his hand around Cael's. "It's... stupid, and unfair, to put this on /one/ person, or a dozen, or a single city. But if Gaea Herself wants me to cheat? Then I'll cheat. I don't know how exactly I'll do it, but... I do not intend to be a ghost, nor a vampire, nor /any/ such thing. Because if nothing else? That means Agnes becomes Archivist, and I /cannot/ let that happen. Not yet. I am working on ideas, talking to people--people who /know/, people who've been to these places and know what to do."

    He sighs. "I cannot promise that I won't change, because... people change. Even if I avoid dying in this, I'll change. I already am. But I'll remain /myself/. I refuse to not be, not after I /just/ started."

    A hesitation, then, "I... would very much like to kiss you again. Properly. But... you can say no, of course. I just..." He frowns down at her. "It was nice. And... and... I want to help you feel better."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Alis can't change," Cael answers Jon quietly. "I don't want you to be unchanging. I just... I don't want you to //be changed//. I want you to be you." She takes a deep, unsteady breath, wiping at her eyes with her free hand once more. "I know you'll change. I mean - I've changed. We all change."
    She falls silent after that, not responding to that request for a kiss, as she focuses on listening to his heart, and his breathing. Only when she's managed to get her own breathing back into a rhythm more in keeping with his own - slower, and steadier, and far more even - does she offer a response.
    "I'd like to kiss you," she agrees.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon swallows a moment. "I'll be myself," he promises. "It's the one thing I know I can swear to you. Everything I've done has been because of who I am. I will not let them change that... because that's the /point/ of all of this."

    He's stalling. A little. Just a little. He's nervous, okay?

    He leans down and /very/ slowly, and carefully, presses his lips to hers. Longer than she did the other night, more firmly, lingering. But not too long, not too much. Just... a kiss.

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael returns the kiss - her hand tightening on his shirt as she does, and her eyes closed. When Jon pulls away, she tucks her head against his chest one more - a small smile on her lips.
    "I'm going to try to get better," she says quietly - as if Jon weren't already perfectly aware of this fact. "I want to be by your side in this - in all of this, as much as I can. But I need to be able to stand on my own two feet." She can't be a liability - and she wants to spend as much time with him as she can, while she can - because not all promises can be kept, no matter how much they both may wish it.
    "Jon?" she asks. "Will you sing for me?"

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon laughs, a low rumble in his chest. He wraps his arms around Cael and holds her close, resting his chin on her head for just a moment. He seems to like doing that.

    Then he lifts his head and starts to sing, softly, "Rose, rose, rose red... will I ever see thee wed? I will marry at thy will, sir... at thy will..."

    He clearly knows the song well, and is comfortable with it, that baritone voice rumbling soft and comforting.

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael listens in silence, slowly relaxing by small degrees as she listens to his singing voice rumbling in his chest, a small smile playing across her face. Her eyes are closed, her breathing slow and even, and she remains like that for a while after her finishes.
    "Am I supposed to be Rose Red?" she finally asks with some amusement.
    Then she adds, "You can do that for me anytime. I can't tell you how much that helps."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "It's one of my favorite songs," Jon says softly. "We did a version of it on one of our albums... a bit more rock-inspired, we went pretty hard for a folk song, but..." He chuckles. "In that story, Rose Red was the twin of Snow White, and the finest warrior of King Cole the space tyrant... he kidnapped her on her wedding day and put her in a stasis chamber and cloned her, and her wife Cinders spent thirty years roaming the galaxy trying to find her through the rebellion against Cole until finally they found each other just for Rose to die in Cinders' arms."

    He coughs. "Ahh... we were pretty into the tragedies, back in the day. I... don't know that I'd be so eager to make it sad, now. Life gives enough tragedy."

    He smiles. "I do like singing, though. Would you like another?"

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Morbid lot," Cael remarks in a dry, but amused tone.
    At the offer of another song, she nods. "If you have the time. But I really am feeling more myself," she reassures him. "When you have to go, I think I'll get in a workout - and go see Caldwell," her new therapist. "I guess, maybe I've got this afterall."
    As long as she can get Jon to give her a jumpstart in the mornings.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon thinks about it for a moment, then leans down to kiss the top of her head. Then he pulls away, deliberately. "You should do that," he says, "and I should get back to New York. This really pretty SHIELD agent told me that I ought to be there being a visible leader, and I really like her hair, so I figure I'll listen to what she has to say."

    He grins at her, cheekily.

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Basing your decisions on people's hair sounds like a solid commnd choice," Cael remarks with more of her dry humor. Her eyes are still read and puffy from her tears - and there's signs of exhaustion lingering on her features - but she seems far more herself than when Jon had entered. She even sheds her blankets to walk with him to the front door - stopping him before he opens it by capturing his hand.
    "We've got this." You say it until you believe it - and with Jon here, she has an easier time believing it. She watches his features, clearly waiting for him to echo her before she adds, "Now... kiss me again, then stop by to see me, or send me a message, before you go to bed. Okay?"

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon beams down at Cael as she grabs his hand. "We've got this," he repeats. Then he leans down to kiss Cael again, firmly, lingering for just a moment before he pulls away.

    "I'll send a message at least--not sure where I'm sleeping tonight. But if I'm back at the Trisk, I'll stop by. I promise."

    He hesitates. "I love you," he manages. There. It's out! And right when he's leaving, phew.

Cael Becker has posed:
    Tension and a little fear seeps back into Cael at those three simple, but powerful words. A lifetime's worth of fear and trauma is not easily dismissed - and the idea what she dooms the people she loves? It's tough to shake.
    Still, she manages to get a smile back into place after letting it falter in a moment of fear, and even manages to get out a response past the lump rising in her throat. "I love you too," she echoes.
    "Now get out there."