Lay Your Weary Head To Rest


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Scene Title Lay Your Weary Head To Rest
Synopsis Abby finds out why Aaron is so down right now, he gets out what he needs to say and finally manages to get some sleep.
Date May 9, 2009

Old Lucy's

Old Lucy's has a vibrant and lively feel to it, from the dark wooden floors to the shady crimson walls lit up by neon lights and many times, the flashing of cameras from the oft-crowded floor. The mirror behind the bar reflects prices of various drinks, bottles lined up, as well as the entire saloon as seen from the bartenders; bolted-down stools line the other side, and there are loose tables and chairs placed all around, though many times they find themselves pushed back for more space within the center of the saloon. A few speakers are placed at strategic places and around a raised stage to the far corner from the bar. Above the counter, an obviously well-used bar is hung; it is this that the girls working will use should there be dancing, which is one reason many patrons choose to come aside from the drinks. Across the bar and near the back, there is a door that leads to the owner's office and just inside a stairwell that leads a apartment on the floor above the bar.

The problem with an establishment such as Old Lucy's opening early is that it provides for early drunkenness. Admittedly, that's not much of a problem when a person seriously needs to unwind and become wasted enough to not do anything stupid. Despite his previous appearance sans guitar, he does have it in tow today, although it's unlikely to see any use. It's more of what today means to him that brings him to carry it with him.

When he arrives, he gets a bottle of bourbon and disappears to the corner of the back room, where he spends a great deal of time not drinking, all the while he stares at a photograph clutched between thumb and forefinger of the hand not holding the bottle. His guitar leans against the wall next to him, still in its case, and he ignores anyone who comes near him and gives a distinct 'piss off' look to anyone who dares come close enough to touch him.

It's his behavior that had Abby's cellphone going off, Brenda not daring to go tend to him, and he's frankly scaring off a good chunk of the clientele. So Abby begged off for a half hour, hopefully, she assured them, to go make sure dinner reservations were set. Maybe they should take a nap - her parents - after all, they'd spent all morning walking around and seeing things.

Success meant that Abby was storming into the bar, red hair flying behind her and slapping the bar counter to let Brenda know she's here and beelines for Aaron. Bourbon bottle is her goal. To remove it from him. "You've had enough to drink"

Aaron does not respond to the comment about how much he's had to drink. Truth be told, close up it's clear the bottle has barely had anything siphoned out of it — possibly no more than a single swig. The red-rimmed, weepy eyes and dark circles below them might suggest otherwise, though. "Did I ever tell you I was in band?" he asks, although the way he asks and the fact that his focus is elsewhere makes it seem almost like he's talking to someone else. "The Lightbringers. That's what we were called. Of course, after I started university, going to NYU full time, sacrifices had to be made and the band fell apart." His tone is completely flat. "Professors are a funny thing. One of mine had a friend at Radio City Music Hall. When he heard that this professor had me as his student, he insisted I try to get the band back together for a reunion show. He wanted it so much he offered to pay us to do it. He offered to pay the expense of one of the most costly venues in the city to hear us play one more time."

This time he actually looks at Abby, turning the photo around to show a cute blonde with blue-gray eyes and a joyous smile, clearly enjoying whatever it was she was doing aside from having the photo taken. "That's Annie, guitar and vocals." There's almost a smile. "I was lead, but she backed me." As he turns the photo back around so he can look at it, it becomes apparent that there's writing on the back of the photo and his, even though his hand blocks most of it. It also appears that his hand is holding something else other than the photo.

The bottle is taken from out of his hand, set to the side for Brenda to slip over and take. "No, because I don't knwo you well enough Aaron to have been told anything about you. Same as you know nothing about me" But the picture is turned around and Abigail looks down at it. "She is a very beautiful woman Aaron. I'm sure you were really good in the band"

"We started dating a year before we started the band, and continued after everyone else went their separate ways," Aaron says, and it's not clear whether he noticed what Abby said at all, nor is is clear if he noticed the bottle of bourbon taken away either. He continues to stare at the photo. "We talked about forever so frequently; we knew everything about each other. When that professor came to me on November third, I went to a jeweller and bought this," the item obscured by his hand shows itself. An engagement ring. Nothing glamorous, but nice for a young couple. "I set up a time to meet Annie for coffee that both fit into our schedules. I was going to tell her about the reunion show before any of our other bandmates. I then planned to propose to her, on stage — I knew she'd say yes — at the show."

He looks up at Abby. "The day she was going to meet me for coffee, I called her. She sounded terrible. A bad cold, or something, but she said she was on her way. I told her to go to sleep and she could meet me on the weekend." His voice finally cracks and he wipes his eyes on his jacket sleeve. "Forty minutes later, her apartment building was incinerated. It was a block and a half from Kirby Plaza." Only because he can't verbalize it, he holds the back of the photo up for Abby to see:

Annie's 21st Birthday
May 9, 2006

"Oh Aaron, you didn't kill her. Your name is not Peter, and you weren't the one standing there and exploding. Annie's death isn't on you. There's a world full of what ifs. What if she'd already left the apartment, decided not to stay like you'd said, but got caught in traffic and was still within range? Would you blame yourself then?"

"If that were the case, it wouldn't hurt nearly as much," Aaron says. "It doesn't matter that I didn't kill her with my own hands or my own power. She was only there because I said she should be." He ruffles his hair. "I'm just tired, I'm cranky. I haven't slept in almost a week. I … hate today. It's a reminder of everything that's wrong with the world, with life. I just want to sleep. Is that so much to ask for?"

"No Aaron, it's not. Come on, there's an apartment upstairs, I can make you some warm milk, maybe Izzy has something to help you sleep. I can't stay long, my parents are gonna wonder where I went off too, but I can help you, okay?" She offers her hand out to the empath, waiting. "And it'll hurt less Aaron. With time. It won't ever go away, but it'll hurt less"

"No thanks to the milk, Abigail," Aaron says as he grabs his guitar. "Not a fan of the stuff, and I think I've done enough drugs with all the drinking. Besides, if all the drinking hasn't given me a wink, what pill's going to?" He takes the offered hand, because physical contact is seriously lacking these days.

"Will do what the alcohol can't do, hasn't done" But that's neither here nor there. ABigail wraps her palm in his and wiht a nod to Brenda to say that she's taken care of it, leads him behind the bar and into the back room, up to Isabelle's place

With that contact, Aaron's spirits lift, even if only a bit. Once they're in Isabelle's place, Aaron sets his guitar down in a place he feels is secure enough and looks around. "I feel kinda weird being in someone else's place." It takes a bit of nerve for him to say it, and that struggle is clear when he says, "Would you be willing to work your magic on my head again? I don't know if it's a hangover or what, but it doesn't exactly help me sleep either."

There's always something lingering, deep beneath the chemical blanket that she takes every morning. and her hightened elation tips her off that he's feeding off her. "It's my boss. She lets us use it if we need to. She's kicked my butt up here to sleep a few times. She won't be back anytime soon so don't worry and I can do that" She gestures to the leather couch, waiting till he's seated before taking his hand. No outward verbal prayer, just an inner one, filled with plea's to the lord to see to helping Aaron, watch over him in his grief and sleep when it comes. Her ability flares to life immediately, setting to work.

And it would seem that Aaron's gift has also flared into life, as his headache vanishes rather quickly as soon as they're seated. In fact, any ailment she finds and attempts to heal disappears far quicker than it should, all the while any and all negative feelings she has get drawn out. Perhaps the most curious thing, however, is that while seated, Aaron's eyes have closed and he actually appears relaxed, or more so than usual.

She's not a doctor, she's not even taking biology yet, she's just been doing the anatomy books to try and get a leap on things that she knows is going to escape her and give her trouble. So it's not cluing in what it is that's keeping her from actually expending any energy to heal. She feels it but before it can be reached… It's gone. A ghost. "You need to be careful. You're feeding off me right now. Headache gone?"

But there's nothing, no response. Aaron remains seated, eyes closed. Sleeping? He did say that he hadn't slept in nearly a week. In truth, it's been four days since he got any sleep at all, even simply dosing off hasn't happened. He's been conscious since Wednesday morning, or at least was. Now it seems he's not.

Out. Like a light. Abigail sighs, and starts to make him a bed on the couch. Pillows, blankets, the redhead takes her time, guiding the guy into laying down, working his jacket and shoes off, till he's tucked under a blanket. Ten minutes all done and said, she makes sure to leave a pad of paper with her number on it, that Brenda will bring up food if he wants it. But she's got parents to attend to, and Aaron's safe up here. Unless Eileen pops in but, she's pretty sure she can trust Eileen to not kill the guy. So with that, the redhead heads to the door, tiptoeing as she goes.

Carry on my wayward son,
There'll be peace when you are done.
Lay your weary head to rest,
Don't you cry no more…

Carry On Wayward Son by Kansas

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