Participants:
| Scene Title | Are You Near? |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Are you coming to open the door? Are you near? Is It Far? |
| Date | October 5, 2013 |
The Woods Residence
She's certain her counterpart doesn't take her bedclothes in to the master bath to change before sleep. Couples comfortable with each other don't generally have a mystery to keep up. It isn't that she's terribly modest – she's never been very good at understanding that virtue – rather she needs this moment, quiet and alone, to herself.
Fight 'til your fists bleed, baby
Beat the fate walls enclosing you, maybe
God will unlock the cage of learning for you, for you
First, she unbuttons her blazer and shrugs it off. Her fingers are straight, and there's no occasional pain that comes from old breaks. The next thing she does is lean in toward the bathroom mirror and part her blonde hair in the precise place she knows by her own muscle memory. Nothing. She searches, and nothing. No physical evidence of her interactions with Eric Doyle.
Fight 'til your fists bleed, baby
Kick and scream at the wicked things, maybe
God will unlock the door you need to walk through
Next, the canary yellow blouse is untucked from her high-waist pants so she can pull it up and over her head, leaving it in a heap on the floor with her white jacket. Those unbroken fingers come up to her shoulder. To smooth skin. No bullet wound. No souvenir from Humanis First. No reminder of her loyalty to Michal Valentin.
When will it happen, baby?
It could be near, but then maybe
It could be far
Again, those fingers continue their work, moving around to her back to first unclasp her bra and add it to the pile, then reach for the zipper of her pants and draw it down. Her hands rest on her hips for a moment before she hooks her thumbs under the waistband and pulls down, grabbing underpants on the way and kicking everything aside.
Here we are in the waiting room of the world
We will wait until you call our name out loud
In the waiting room of the world
We will wait until you call our name out loud
She turns away from the vanity mirror to look at the full-length one on the door instead. Her scars are so intrinsically a part of her, to see her body without them is a shock that brings tears to her eyes. Her hands move to her flat, naked stomach and feel the skin there, like there's some sort of trick and she'll find the ugly scar. The penalty for breaking her alliance with Carlisle Dreyfus. Does its absence mean she never broke the pact, or never made it at all?
And the battle will never end well
You can't marry our heaven to your hell
We, Prolific, and you, the Devourer, need to see
All of it drives home the fact that she's in the body of another woman who looks like her, but is very, very different.
Some things are sacred, baby
Why have you gone and trampled them lately?
I guess it's all just a part of your way
There are similarities. There's still the scar at her brow to remind her of Peter. The one at her throat to remind her of Kazimir Volken and the trust she placed in Sylar to save her life. This Odessa, she expects, made very different choices. Better ones. She's a free woman in a thriving city with a family that loves her.
You should be ashamed
Des takes the yellow nightgown dotted with tiny white flowers off the counter, shakes it out of its careful folding and pulls it over her head. Her fingers comb through her long hair and she stares at herself hard in the mirror. She isn't stealing Odessa's life, she tells herself, she's just trying to protect her own. She has to keep things as normal as possible. It's why she'll crawl into another woman's bed and sleep next to her husband tonight.
I'm getting tired of fighting
I guess I should ask,
Do I go quietly down?
Do I kick? Do I scream when I'm bound?
Her discarded clothes are left in a pile on the bathroom floor. The door opens without so much as a squeak of the hinges and makes her way into the bedroom. Bare feet find soft carpet and turn away. She finds herself in the kitchen, pouring a glass of water. Delaying the inevitable. Residence is taken up on the couch to wait it out. Maybe if he falls asleep first…
Are you coming to open the door?
Are you near?
Are you near?
Is it far?
Some time later, she's awoken by James Woods' arms around her, lifting her small frame off the couch where she'd fallen asleep. The world tips a moment until she gets her arms around his shoulders and finds her anchor in him. It sways gently as he takes her back to his bed. "I missed you," she murmurs without thought as he lays her down and she drifts back to sleep.
Here we are in the waiting room of the world
We will wait until you call our name out loud
In the waiting room of the world
We will wait until you call our name out loud