Participants:
| Scene Title | Around The Clock |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Round and round we go, it's all we know. |
| Date | January 26, 2010 |
Casa Del Trio — Upper West Side
The hours grind toward the next day. Gillian hadn't been asleep long, before there was signs of minor distress. Nothing too terrible, just some shifting under the covers in her room, a quickened breath, some small sounds. But then the covers are thrown up, and she's wide awake, looking down at her hands, then to the pill bottle that was open on the table beside the bed. She doesn't remember opening it. But she pours them out to check and see…
They look to be all there. They get dumped back in, and she gets up, pulls a housecoat on, and steps out to find those on sleeper and crazy bald guy watch. "I think I had one of those nightmares…"
Peyton's still in the living room, bundled up in a ball in her chair, a scratch pad on one knee full of very messy notes. It's hard to write when you can't see — unless you've been taught, anyway. The clairvoyant looks like something that could have been in a nightmare — pale skin, dark rings under her eyes, and those wide, unseeing eyes, pupils completely dilated so her eyes look nearly black at a glance.
At Gillian's words, however, the pupils constrict until the ring of brown is visible once more, and she jumps up to hurry to Gillian. "Are you okay? You didn't sleepwalk?" She turns to look at Aaron, manning the baby monitors. She probably should sleep so he can watch both at the same time, but she's rather obsessed with keeping tabs on Danko.
And leave Aaron alone with himself? He's such horrible company. The news is particularly shocking, and his eyes widen when Gillian mentions 'one of those nightmares,' though Peyton beats him to the punch in hurrying towards Gillian, and so he's left alone where he's been staring for the past few hours, in between the occasional tea-making.
The has-been musician glances sidelong at the clairvoyant, a brow drawn upwards. "What?" He shakes a hand at the monitor, "It looked like she was just tossing and turning." Clearly he thinks that crazy bald guy watch has left behind a little crazy. He hasn't voiced the concerns he hopes Peyton knows by now. After all, she was the one who told him that abuse of her ability could be hazardous to her health.
"I opened my pill bottle," Gillian explains, moving closer to them as well as she can, with the whole wounds and all. It makes fast movements difficult, but she settles down on the couch next to them and leans back to look at the ceiling. "I'm okay, though. Someone I know showed up to save the day. Sent that guy packing." Or that's how she's going to say it. Sent herself packing? No, no that wouldn't be a good explanation.
"I'm okay. How goes the psycho-watch?"
"Disgusting," Peyton says unhappily, happy for a respite from the watch for now. Danko didn't look like he was going anywhere, anyway, glassy-eyed on the couch staring at the news. "I could have done without seeing the sex, though at least the other guy wasn't all scrawny and old." She wrinkles her nose, resting her head on Gillian's shoulder from one side when she sits beside the augmentor.
Joking aside, she shakes her head. "He's researching us… Phoenix and Cat and … everything." She doesn't say that he watched the video of her kidnapping, though she texted Cat and Elisabeth the information. Aaron might have noticed her getting more tense and more pale, and felt her distraught state, but she didn't answer any questions. Better for his sake — the more he knows could put him in danger.
"Wonderful," Aaron says, wryly. Really, the idea of a creepy bald guy having sex with another man is not an image he wanted burned into his skull. At least he didn't see it like Peyton did. "I do not envy you." He takes a deep breath once Gillian's sat next to him and reaches an arm around her. "Well, now we've all had a run-in. But… someone you know showed up?"
"Fuck. Someone really needs to just…" Gillian doesn't finish the sentence, but it's pretty obvious from her tone. He needs to get shot in the face! And she had to see sex. "I don't envy your ability," she says, reaching over to touch her friend on the arm. If she did have it she'd probably have been spying on someone better looking, at least? With what little she knows of short and bald. He reminds her a bit of Ross.
"Yeah, someone I know showed up. Sort of a friend. I'd helped her out a few times, and she was returning the favor."
"How bad was it?" Peyton says, eyes closing sleepily, despite being worried for her friend. She's been watching Danko around the clock since Sunday evening, with breaks to sleep or shower or go to the bathroom, but only when she was sure he wasn't going to do anything dangerous — like leave his apartment. One hand goes to her closed eyes to rub them. "I'm sorry we didn't catch you. Or… Aaron." She frowns at that, feeling guilty for not pulling her weight in the sleep monitoring system.
Aaron cringes just a little when Peyton asks how bad the dream was, not entirely sure he wants to know. Besides, it's not like Peyton talked much about hers. Not like his own led him to seek death. Then again, he really doesn't need a bad dream to do that. "We need a more permanent solution to our problem. 'cause honestly? I was almost falling asleep here." Which sucks, since he doesn't want to let either woman down. Spent too much time watching Peyton while she feverishly pursues Danko with her ability and sharing attention with the baby monitor of Gillian.
"I guess it could have been worse," Gillian says, playing down how bad it had been, as she stares off for a quiet moment. All the things she's lost came together there. It had been stronger before the blonde arrived, and then it weakened, and became less damaging. And it allowed her the chance to fight back. "I'm sure you guys would have noticed if I actually got out of bed to take the pills. I didn't have any water, or anything, so I would have had to go for a little walk."
There's a pause. "But I learned a way to fight it, I guess. It— She called it a Patronus. I think she read too much Harry Potter. I created these little… faeries. They helped." But they're so TINY so how much they can help…
"Hey Aaron— would you like it if I arranged for a memorial for Stef?"
"That's what Cat called them," Peyton says, sitting up and opening her bloodshot eyes. "She said it was like, Jungian or something, too, but I don't follow half of what she says. It's all over my head. She has like, three degrees or something plus remembers everything she's ever heard or read or said or whatever, and I only get maybe a teensy bit of it." She sits up and reaches for a bottle of water on the coffee table, not really caring whose it is, and takes a long sip. "I'm glad you're okay. Maybe we should store the medications in some hard to find spot — not too hard, I mean, some place we can get to it if we're awake, but sleepwalking would be harder?"
Faeries, Patronuses (Patronae?)…. It goes over Aaron's head at least as much as it went over Peyton's. Especially when his thoughts linger to Stef. His expression sags a bit, and he becomes deeply involved with his own feelings, which only helps the rest of what Peyton says go in one ear and out the other. He's been in a lot of denial about that. No contact in nearly three months, it was hard not to thing she'd died. She wasn't supposed to reach November, anyway, but she did. "I suppose I hoped she was still out there," he says, though it is a whisper he doesn't realize he made aloud. Now it's his turn to lean his head onto Gillian's shoulder. "I think I…. I think it would help."
"Okay, I— I thought it would be a nice touch. I could read some stuff from her journal, and the few people who knew her can… I guess get together and say good bye," Gillian says with a small shrug, a little grimacy at the whole situation. "We might even be able to make sure she gets a proper burial." Near her sister…
Whose grave she still hasn't visited yet. "I'm still here." Which is more than would have been if things went the way they were supposed to.
"I'm sorry," Peyton says softly, to both. She didn't get to know Stef other than working with her a couple of times out with Shard's group. "I can help … with expenses, if you need, Gill." She is quiet, and her eyes begin to droop closed despite trying to talk to them. "Shit. I'm falling asleep at the wheel. I'm sorry." She pulls a face, annoyed that she is too sleepy to offer comfort to her friend. "I think I need … sleep. But…" she frowns. "I don't want to make you guys stay up and watch me."
"I know," Aaron says, squeezing Gillian — though gently. He'll save the bear hugs for once she's healed up from surgery. And boy is she ever going to get bear hugs. "I could help out in other ways, I guess." No use in being a total mope and not helping out. He shakes his head at Peyton, "You need more sleep than me. I don't want to see you hospitalized for overusing your power." His tone is one of authority, despite his recent shy and withdrawn nature. "You can get a couple of hours of sleep at least before I crash."
"I think I'll stay up and do some reading. The couple hours I got were enough," Gillian says, though instead of getting up to read, she leans against Aaron and accepts his cuddles. It may not be the kind of affection she wants sometimes, but… in some ways it's still the affection she needs. "I wish someone could take over the Danko Watch for you… But until then we'll just… maybe we can play some cool music for you while you do it next time."
The clairvoyant nods, getting up, then kissing Gillian on top of the head, then moving past her to hug Aaron. "Thanks," she says quietly, the sympathetic words from Gillian actually serving the opposite effect — she suddenly feels rather alone: alone in her ability, alone in the task she's taken upon herself. She heads off to her bedroom, to sleep the sleep of the exhausted, leaving Gillian to be comforted in Aaron's embrace — and vice versa, for Gillian's affection is almost as healing and comforting and needed by Aaron as his is by her.