Every You, Every Me

Participants:

lynette_icon.gif mateo_icon.gif

Scene Title Every You, Every Me
Synopsis In the aftermath of something seen at a birthday party, a couple who has found each other in many timelines talk about it and what it means.
Date April 8, 2018

The Benchmark: Lynette and Mateo's Room

The bedroom is decorated in warm colors, mostly owing to the fact that much of the furniture and d├ęcor around the room was brought up from Mexico and comes with colorful flourishes. But also because it makes the room feel comforting. In one corner, a record player sits on a stand with a collection of records. Jazz, mostly. Almost nothing after the 1940s.

The bed is flanked by two side tables, usually piled with books. Although there is a his and a hers side, it's difficult to tell which is which. There are more pillows on this bed than any pair of humans would ever need.

In the closet a safe is tucked away toward the back. Instead of valuables or money, it holds weapons. It doesn't get opened often, but it is certainly present. Just in case.


As Lynette lets them into the apartment, she lets out a gentle sigh. It was a good party, good company, good food. But she seems relieved to be home all the same. Part of that is that people and functions tend to drain her these days. But most of it is because she's worried about her husband.

And to that end, she turns around to hold her hand out toward him. To beckon him closer. "It was nice to see Des happy," she says, because it was. "Don't tell Richard, but I think she liked your gift the best," she adds with a crooked smile. As ever, she's not rushing him into explaining anything. She knows he'll come to it when he's ready.

There's a small chuckle from Mateo as they move deeper into the apartment. "He would just accuse me of being too perfect again," he responds quietly, leaving out a comment about how he wasn't exactly perfect, but he understood that the people who loved him saw him that way. Perhaps not being completely sure of that also made him more endearing. He had no idea.

"It was a nice party," he responds with a nod. "I'm going to go wash up," he adds, leaning closer to kiss her on the lips, almost exactly the same way he'd kissed her when he had been crying.

The same lingering touch, the same slowness to pull back.

But pull back he does, and disappear into the bathroom, slowly undressing as he goes. Because he feels like he needs to wash up and possibly even shave.

"He probably would," Lynette says with a chuckle, "he doesn't know about the snoring, though, so." Which is, of course, a joke. Because she does think he's perfect, in any way that matters to her.

She lifts an eyebrow when he declares that he's going to go wash up, but comments get interrupted by a kiss. She leans into it, returning it warmly. Whatever's wrong, she tries to reassure him through it, comfort him. And she's reluctant to let him go, but she does. Watching him head for the bathroom, her head tilts for a moment before she moves to follow. As far as the doorway, anyway, which is where she stops, leaning a hip against the frame as she starts to remove her earrings.

Instead of a i don't snore response, Mateo actually laughs at the joke instead, because he already knows he doesn't snore. Even if before he might have at least feigned offense. Instead— he seems a little preoccupied with his thoughts, as strips down shirtless in the bathroom, his tattoo and the scar on his upper arm visible, as well as the necklace he'd gotten when they arrived in New York. Y-shaped necklace, two coins dangling down.

One has a stylized L. The other a M.

While she leans against the door frame watching him, he turns on the faucet, running the water for a few seconds to let it warm, while he grabs a wash cloth. Dampening the cloth, he runs it over his face, before looking into the mirror.

He could no longer feel the tears, but he almost felt like he still could.

Lynette watches, of course, because him shirtless is a sight she doesn't ever mind seeing. The necklace gets a gentle smile, but it doesn't last too long as she looks up to catch his face in the mirror. And her worry reflects there, too, which might be why she shifts, moving to slide her jacket off, earrings cupped in her hand.

Hanging it over the towel bar, she comes over to drop her jewelry— although not all of it, as there is a certain piece she doesn't ever remove— into a small dish on the counter. And then her hand moves to brush down his back, settling in against his hip as she leans over to kiss his shoulder.

I'm here shown, rather than spoken.

With her touch, Mateo's eyes slowly close, his hands resting on the counter top as he just feels her touch, feels her move even closer and kiss his shoulder. He had known she followed, and had not minded it at all. If he had wanted to be alone, he would have said so, and he knew she would listen. But he hadn't.

No. Sometimes he felt as if he never wanted to be alone ever again. And this might be one of those times.

"I love you. You know that, right?" In this world. In every other one too, it would seem. They would always be together.

But it never lasts.

"I do," Lynette says, to his question, her voice soft. "And I love you, too." Her hold on him tightens there, pressing herself closer as if to put emphasis on the words. Sometimes, it's important to say them, even though she has ever believed that actions speak louder in matters of the heart.

"Mateo, we're okay," she says, watching him in the mirror with her brows furrowed. "You're home. You're okay." So many things haunt him, and while she doesn't know which is right now, she knows she can anchor him here, in their life, in this moment. And maybe banish the ghosts.

"I know," Mateo responds, leaning back against her hand as he opens his eyes and looks at her through the mirror. He's home. He had always thought that tiny house in Argentina had been his home, but no— home was not a place. It had always been her.

"You know… I think you were right— that we always meet. And I think maybe we always fall in love." It might sound like a strange segway, but between what he saw at the birthday party and those poems they'd been reading that Des let him borrow…

"Every you and every me."

When she feels him lean back, she shifts enough so that he has her to lean against, rather than just a hand. And it frees her up to slide her arms around him. Her fingers come to slide over his necklace as he talks.

"Why does that make you sad, my darling?" she asks, but she also presses a kiss into his hair. Because he needs to know that she's not upset by the notion. Not by anything he would tell her. "I rather like the idea. Every you, every me. We find each other, we find love, and we carve out every bit of happiness we can."

"Us finding each other doesn't make me sad…" No, that part is good. It means that there will always be something in Mateo that something in her might love and the same is true in reverse. That maybe they were meant to be together, for however long they could be.

"But I also know that… it would destroy me to lose you, and I know at least one of me did." And they'd seen the evidence of how he had been, in the poems he'd written in the margins of a book.

Damp arms rest on hers where they're wrapped around him. He leaves unspoken that, in some of those worlds, it also meant she probably lost him. But maybe he didn't have to.

Lynette tightens her hold on him, her expression dimming. "I know it would," she says, because they have seen some evidence of that, but also just because she knows the depth of feeling between them. This them. "And it would destroy me to lose you. But— I would rather that than go without you at all." Her thumb brushes against his skin and she leans her head against his when he touches her.

"Of course, I would rather us be old and happy when that happens." Because it will, one day. One of them will live without the other. She just aims to have that day be a long way off.

"You're right— even if it… even if some day we'll be seperated somehow, I wouldn't trade having this for anything." And he doesn't think any other him would, either. Mateo continues to look at her through the mirror, offering her a small smile as he presses his hand against hers. "We have these moments." And that happiness was better than none at all.

After a moment more of hesitation he adds, "The woman at the party, Sera? I think she has an ability to see between worlds, or something like that." They had both noticed how things just seemed strange once she entered, he's sure, but he didn't think she could see what he saw while he danced with her. He's sure she would have reacted to it, if she had.

"Neither would I. But in the meantime, I plan on keeping you with me as long as I can, whatever it takes." Lynette means to reassure him there, since there are some strange things going on around them at the moment. "These moments are everything," she says, a warm smile spreading across her face. His hand on hers even gets a soft sigh.

But she refocuses when he mentions Sera. Her eyebrow lifts, curious. "She did seem… a bit odd." But no, she didn't see what he saw, because she adds, "What makes you think she can see between worlds?"

"When we were dancing— when the music started for your song. The whole room changed," Mateo responds, turning around now in her arms, using his hands to resituate her so that they face each other. He leans back against the vanity and looks at her, so close to his height so they stand practically at the same eye level. "No one else seemed to notice, except maybe Dess. So I think it was because I was touching her, maybe."

His hand slides up to touch her hair. "I could see us. But I looked different. And you did your hair differently. We were in a house. Dancing to a song— I think that me had been dancing longer cause he was better than I am." He's smiling a little as he said that, jesting slightly. "But she said that we always find each other."

Lynette loosens her hold so he can turn around easier and her hands settle against his back. When he looks at her, she leans in to brush her nose against his. Since they are at the perfect height to do that. "I definitely didn't see that happen," she says, her head tilting into his hand as it touches her hair.

His comment about his dancing gets a chuckle, but her gaze is affectionate, not teasing. "Well, it's not a surprise to me that any version of me meeting you would fall just as hard as I have. Or that she would teach him to dance eventually."

"I'm not surprised, either. Every you is still you… and every me is still me." And Mateo can't imagine him ever being with any other woman in the entire world. Not that he hadn't loved before, but that had been different. Maybe he only loved him in this world. Or a few others. But it had not been the same, not that he would have traded that for anything either.

She would always be the one, though. Part of him knew that. He had healed his heart so that she could claim it.

"She— Sera. She also said that we always lost each other too." Not exactly what she said, but it gets it out there, too. "It makes me wonder how much she can see."

Lifting her hands, Lynette moves to cup his face at those first words, like she might kiss him. But, she lets him talk and her hands slide down his neck and along his shoulders.

She has loved before, too, even if it had been a long time ago. There was a close call more recently, but ultimately it didn't pan out that way.

People came before him, but there would be no one after him.

Lynette looks back up to his eyes when he continues. "Well," she says dryly, "I only believe in fate when it's working in my favor." She gives him a small smile there, playful. "Maybe she's like Des. Connected to the other worlds. Des sees them through her own eyes, but maybe Sera… has a wider view."

"Maybe we should go see her again, sometime," Mateo suggests, sliding his fingers and thumb against her cheek and chin, looking down at her lips as if he wanted to kiss them with his eyes. And he might as well have been. "When it's not someone else's birthday party." And when they have the time to, at least.

There was a lot going on, after all. They needed to upgrade the security, they needed to spend time with their daughter.

What happened in other worlds could wait. They would still be there, right?

His hands are a distraction. Lynette's eyes drift closed when his fingers move against her skin, but she is still trying to pay attention. Enough that he gets a chuckle. "Right, not during a party next time." Her eyes open, her smile turns a little crooked, as if something about this conversation were suddenly amusing to her.

"You know, I have been wondering for a little while if you are, too. Connected. When Kaylee took us into your mind, I thought— " She pauses there, her head tilting a little as if she isn't quite sure how to word her thoughts. "But maybe that's why Sera was able to see the other you. Why Des was able to see, too."

"Maybe," Mateo does give in to the possibility that perhaps he too had been connected to his other selves in some way. "The place I could see, with the two of us? I felt… familiar. Like I'd been there before. But at the same time I'm sure I haven't." That feeling could have been her ability, but it also could have been something else.

"It had felt the same way with playing the piano with Des." He figured that had come from their erased childhood, but maybe there had been more to that. Maybe there was more to everything.

He also felt that way about other things, in ways he couldn't describe easily.

"The noise was different," Lynette says somewhat bluntly. "To me. When el umbral opens, all that sound is just all together, layered over each other. But when we were there, I felt like… I could pick one noise and follow it to wherever it comes from. Whatever memory. Each one, individually. But what if it isn't memories, but other versions of you? I wonder if the maze is holding them back, too."

Lynette lets out a heavy sigh there before she lets out a sheepish sounding laugh. Her fingers move to follow the chain of his necklace until she can pick up the pendants. "I don't know what any of that means, that connection. But what I do know, is that whatever happens, wherever you go, I'll be there with you." Her thumb runs over their initials before she looks up to him again. "And you'll be with me."

Those sounds. Mateo had never tried to actually think of them as anything other than.. he's not sure. All he knew is they had changed, slightly. He could hear it now, like the sounds of klaxons calling, like an engine revving. It had changed the longer he'd spent in the city. Some sounds like the ones just outside on the streets, tires running over damp asphault. And sometimes…

Sometimes they sounded like trains, or storms, or fire. Or something not physically present in the area. What if he had been hearing other worlds, he just couldn't make out the sounds?

It was speculation, but…

"You're right. I'll be with you. And you with me." And in the end, that's all that mattered. Nudging his nose with her own, he leaned down to kiss her, soft, gentle, but… more.

They would always have each other. In every world that they could.

Discussions of metaphysics, on the nature of the Garden, of his ability, they seem to have some correlation to how close they are to bed. Whether one causes the other or that they just happen to spend a lot of time in bed together will likely be a lifelong study.

Lynette leans into that kiss, one hand pressing his necklace to his chest while the other wraps around his shoulder to pull herself in closer to him. More is easily given, seeing as she reaches a foot back to swing the door shut.

'Bed' is a relative term, in this case.


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