In The Middle Of Our Foreheads


abby_icon.gif alexander_icon.gif

Scene Title In The Middle Of Our Foreheads.
Synopsis Abigail comes with a request, and for comfort when she's off shift.
Date March 30, 2010

Le Rivage: Abby & Alexander's Apartment

// The place looks like it's only made for temporary living. Couch and coffee table from goodwill, small TV and DVD player as well as an large bird cage and Cat that looks unhappy to be here. Mattresses in the three bedrooms with bedding on them along with laundry baskets turned on their sides to perform as storage for clothing. Safehouses frankly look better than here. The kitchen with the signs of takeout as opposed to home cooking. All in all though, the place looks like an okay play to stay short term.//

It takes a bit of getting used to, to learn the sounds of roommates opening doors when you're used to a completely different apartment. There's the muffled sound of Abby's voice saying good morning to someone in the hallway before the key in the door scrapes, then another key and the door to the apartment opens. The thump of her duffel bag, jingling crash of her keys on a table followed by thud of her jacket on the arm of the couch. Her boots soon follow as Abigail is home from the graveyard shift. Soon enough she's creeping through the apartment, right arm sliding out of her navy uniform shirt that leaves her in just her pants and the white undershirt as she pokes her head into Al's room not long after 5 am. She's checking to see if he's there and if he's sleeping.

He's not sleeping. There's the pale gleam of his eyes, as he looks up at her. No light on, in the room. There's just the dim glow of the light of the city reflecting off the clouds,and what light's admitted from the hall. He's in bed, at least, and there's no book open on the coverlet. He hasn't been keeping himself with reading, at least.

"Al?" Comes quietly from the blonde at the door, coming in a little further to regard her friend on his bed. "You okay? You're not feverish or anything?" She knows he's been down there at the Den, with all the other sick evolveds in the den. Towards the stack of mattress's she goes after closing the door behind her to cut out the light and only the dim sick light from the street and lightening sky. She sinks down at his side, bending knee's and pressing a hand to his forehead.

It's a little damp, but there's no hint of fever. None of that furnace warmth. "I'm not sick," he says, gently, not shying away from her hand. "I'm apparently immune to this horrible mutant plague," he adds, pushing his head against her hand.

"Lets hear it for averting the first viral apocalypse and Teodoro Laundani huh?" She whispers, keeping her voice low. She pulls her hand away after he pushes forward with a small smile before she leans over. Off go her socks and she's nudging him over. She's hungry but right now… right now she's of a mind to just curl up against him and hold the telekinetic. "I don't have to worry, I'm not evolved so. Hooray for small blessings right?"

"Yeah," he says, in a murmur. There's no one else here to hear them, now. Obligingly, he scoots over - he's in t-shirt, sweatpants, and smells of that frankincense and myrrh soap he always uses. IT's a pile of blankets, but there's no space heater in here - the room's fairly cool.

A blanket is drawn up, cover at least herself even as she settles her head onto that concave part of a mans body between shoulder, neck and chest. How long since she laid beside any guy like this? The night Robert came to the bar after Tanya's death.

"Do me a favor Al?"

"If it's in my power, I will," he says, calmly. There's all that warmth stored - he's been in bed for a long while, at least. He shifts to spoon with her, heaves a long, slow sigh.

"Don't go to Roosevelt anymore. I know they're sick there but.. But I would really like it if you just stayed away a week or so" Abigail doesn't really ask for much in things significant. Just groceries usually. "I just, I'm going through a really bad time and I just.. I'd feel safer and better if you didn't go there."

Alexander blinks at her. "Do you need me to play bodyguard? I can, if you want," he says, quietly. "But….Abby, they need a -lot- of help there. I need to go if it's at all possible."

"You can't bodyguard a broken heart Al" She quietly points out even as she shifts in the bed to face him, tucking head beneath his chin and her nose against the scruff of cotton that covers his chest. "I know they do. But think of this Al. You know me. If I'm not going there to help them.. then… it's obviously something important keeping me away from that Island"

"What is it, then?" he asks, stroking her hair lightly. "What happened?"

"I can't say Al, I really can't, you just have to trust me. You need to stay off it okay? You can't be on there. I'm sure we'll know when it's safe to go back, but… just promise me please? I don't ask you for much other than to.. do something like this, let me lay beside you, or to make sure to pick up some lemons. I just… I need you to stay away from Roosevelt. If you decide to go, then I can't stop you, but I have to ask"

"I'll go less," he says, hedging. "I can't make any promises beyond that, really. They're suffering in the Den."

He'll go less. Would that work? Would what ever was going to happen there, not happen to Al? There's a sound, a grunt, as if she accepts the answer, is fine with it. One arm snakes under his so that she can hold tight to him.

"You ever feel like… it just can't get any worse Al? Like this is it. Like you don't think that anything more can happen to you, you've hit bottom and the worst that can happen is you go sideways?"

"Yeah. All the time," he says, softly, barely audible. "I….it's like…I got out of Moab, and yet, it's not good. I'm a free man, they aren't hunting me actively, but I still have no peace. I can't be happy."

Clean slate thanks to what his friends did oversea's. Abigail inhales deeply, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth. "I can't sleep Al. The world is suffocating me and I can't breath. Everyone wants things from me, and others just.. need me and then there's even more who just watch me. There's a price on my head on my head and all I ever did was follow orders and do what's right and people I love hurt other people that I love and I feel like some part of me has been lost along the way, little pieces all falling and I don't know how to go back and get them so I can try and piece it all together Al"

He curls her close to him, a pair of twins in the womb. "I'm sorry, darlin'. It's been a war for ages, now. I think you and I should go away somewhere. Take a trip, and not just to see your family," he says, softly. "Somewhere safe and hidden, where you can get a rest."

'We could do that. We could do that this morning Al. I could call Elias" It's a very quiet voice muffled against his chest. "We could just go to.. India or .. or go to England. We could ride in black taxi's on the wrong side of the road. I could grab money from the bank and we could live like a king and queen in India or somewhere else like that. Change our hair and pretend to be poor students and… have dots in the middle of our foreheads and I'll wear a pink and blue sari and you'll .. wear those loose pants and pointy shoes and yellow flowers around your neck"

And it won't happen. Won't ever happen. Both of them are too embroiled in things and the world never stops long enough to let them off. The front of his shirt hints at getting damp. "Some day we'll get what we deserve Alexander. Some day… Right? Till then we just keep on and pray that nothing bad happens"

"I think we should," he says. "I wanna see the rest of the world. Spain, France, Egypt…..Someday. In the meanwhile, yeah, we keep our heads down and keep on keepin' on."

"I need to sleep. I lost someone today." She lost someone the other day and it wasn't a patient in the ambulance. "I shouldn't take it personally but I did. She stroked out at home and there was no saving her" Some things, you really can't prevent or save. "I'm just, going to sleep here, with you, until you need to go. I should go take something to sleep though. So I don't loose it with David the eco-vegan"

"Sure," he murmurs. "I'm offa work today. No shifts scheduled, we can sleep as late as you want."

"Sounds good" Carefully, out from under arms Abby extricates herself. She has to feed the cat. Take a shower, shove toast down her throat and make sure Pila's cared for. One ambien after all that and she'll be back, out of work clothes and into the female version of what Alexander wears even as light is blocked out by the nailed up heavy blankets that are pulled down from the sides to drop the room into darkness.

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