Missing Time


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Scene Title Missing Time
Synopsis Kaylee arrives back home from an experience in damage limitation… a lot later than she anticipated.
Date August 27, 2010

Gun Hill: Kaylee's Apartment

The first difference Kaylee will notice is the air.

The German forest had felt so damp, only beginning to clear by the time a full morning was ripening in the canopy-laden sky. The staler humidity of her apartment is stark in contrast, warmer, but prickling cool against her skin where it's gone clammy. It sucks in to her lungs and in contrast, feels like it's coming off a desert — but it's just a room in New York City, high noon, the sun free of enough cloud to bake her windows with sunny warmth. The temporal lag is going to be a bitch.

She arrives alone, as opposed to with the company of the time traveler that sent her here. Hiro had made noises about tracking down their attacker, and maybe not even time waits for those that swim against its current. She aches, still, from where the bullets had punctured her body, and from where a knife had followed to extract them without the worry of scars that would never wind up forming.

The apartment is not as she left it, but subtle details — the placement of her laptop, the angle of the sun, the opened window — probably don't factor in right away.

Probably not as much as her puppy running to greet her, or— or Joseph standing -> over there with her landline phone in his hand and the cradle of it in the other, reacting to the spontaneous appearance of a missing person with a kind of calm staring before he's tentatively telling whoever's on the other side, "Hang on. No, it's— fine now. But thank you kindly," and hanging up.

The first thought she had when Hiro decided it send her back was, I need a bath and to get rid of these clothes. Kaylee Thatcher had planned to hide what had happened, last thing she needed was to worry anyone. He had said he's bring her right back to the same time, didn't he? She was a wee bit distracted at the time.

Of course, when she hears the sound of nails on hardwood floors, the telepath turns to greet Missy, bending down with a smile, happy to see something that wasn't trying to kill her. Her gaze catches something out of the corner, and her eyes land on… well… Joseph. Blue eyes widen just a little, her face registering shock and the smile slides away.

Uh oh.

She probably looks a sight, some of her blonde hair hangs in dark ropes around her face where the blood spilling from that gaping neck wound gathered. Not to mention the rest of her, blood soaked into those areas around where she was shot, the holes tattered and in one place Francois had to cut away the jean fabric along her hip, making the fabric fold wierd at the bend of her leg. Kaylee looks ready for a part in a slasher film.

Suddenly self consciously, Kaylee looks away, much like a kid being caught in the act of sticking hands in the cookie jar. Reaches up with a hand, that had been cleaned so she could finish her job and rubs at some of the dried blood at her cheek, bits of it flaking off. "Um.. Joseph… Hi." That last coming out a bit weakly. "How…" She stops, head turning enough so she can look at him, "How long have you been standing there?"

She has no idea how long it's been.

There is a few seconds there where Joseph might be convincing himself that he's not staring at a demon, still taking in the shape of her silhouette so abruptly a part of the scenery before the details are filling in: torn denim, and the scent of blood beginning to mingle with the scent of dog and air freshener, the forest grime beneath her fingernails and an errant twig snagged in her hair. Finally, he answers, "Coupla minutes. I was feeding—

"You look like you should be lyin' down," is said, instead, when the ridiculousness of having a conversation hits Joseph abruptly, but even that is foregone by the time he's set down her phone and is moving closer, hands out mostly to inspect, but that crumbles in favour of an embrace.

"I - " Words fail her when suddenly wrapped in Joseph's arm. The telepath's body stiffens within his arms, at first, breath inhaled sharply in surprise. Knowing what she looks like, she expected to be grilled, yelled at… or something. All intentions of explaining herself go right out the door.

Really, she did plan to explain.

Instead, the words seem to stick in her sore throat, the ache a reminder of what had almost happened. It's enough to shake her and Kaylee's world blurs with suddenly tears. Something she didn't know she was holding, seems to break apart and with a soft sob, her arms suddenly wrap around him, fingers gripping the back of his flannel shirt tight.

When she thought she was dying, Kaylee had wanted to do just that. Hug someone she cared so much about. The young blonde buries her face against his shoulder, head tucked against his neck, so he can't see her tears. Shoulders shake some as she tries not to give voice to her feelings, the fabric of his shirt taking the brunt of it. For once she's doesn't put on a brave face.

He's okay with that, too. Envies it, to a degree, which is probably why Joseph patiently stands with his arms in a tight loop around her shoulders and waist — and a flannel shirt can take this kind of abuse, too, the knot formed by her fist and the dampness at a shoulder. There is a damp puppy nose pressing up at her calf, also, sweetly creepy attempts to clean up where blood is smeared and drying flaky along the curve of muscle, tickling up to the back of her knee.

"You okay? I mean— you hurt?" He has to check, after a while, to make sure he shouldn't be seeing where the nearest Ferry clinic is ever since the doctor at Gun Hill took off and cleaned out.

The death grip on his poor shirt loosen, finally and reluctantly, allowing her to pull away enough so he can see the quick up and down movements of her head. "Yeah. I.. I'm fine." The words breaks a little and have to be forced out, rough in that aching throat. "I was… hurt. Pretty bad." Kaylee adds softly, as she pulls away enough to bring both her hands up to wipe at wet cheeks. Thought I wouldn't make it. That little fact isn't verbalized.

"Sorry…" It's offered sheepishly as she looks at her tear dampened hands, tinged a light pink from the dried blood. The view of her tank top, has her spreading her hands so she can get a good look, fingers touching where one of the bullets tore the fabric.

She glances up at Joseph again and makes an attempt at a smile, which doesn't exactly reach her eyes. "Got ambushed, while helping someone," she explains, a hand trying to push the dog away, only to have that cold nose there again.

Finally, she just ends up crossing over her chest, conscious about all the blood. "Got.. shot up pretty bad." A hand drifts up to wrap fingers around her throat lightly, still able to clearly remembering the way the ragged edges of the wound felt like under her fingers.

Not something that will go away anytime soon.

"Got lucky, tho…" Her lower lip starts to tremble again, teeth snagging it quickly to stop it. Brows furrowed, as she takes a moment to gain her composure again. When she does manage to voice her thoughts, the words are thick with emotions. "… one ended up being a healer." She avoids the details, like the fact, that same healer had to dig out the bits of lead buried deep in her flesh or the intense pain.

It's getting to that point where planned explanation needs to happen, soon, but— maybe not after she cleans up. Joseph does his part by loosening twig and attached leaf out from blonde curls, holding it so as not to just drop it on the ground in her otherwise clean apartment, crushing that forest debris in his hand instead.

Worry makes a crease at his brow, backing up to give her some space as he listens. "Yeah, that's— lucky. I don't even know if we got any healers around anymore," he says, without particular indication that he's listening to himself, or otherwise not simply, awkwardly, trying to fill in silence.

Takes a breath, reinforces the ability to offer her a tentative sort of smile. "Well, if you're sure— if you want I can go and let you get cleaned up. Or I can— wait around 'til you're done. It must've been an exhausting week, for you."

Her head turns a little to attempt to see what he's doing, feeling the tug at her hair. Kaylee can't help but smile just a little as she sees the twig, she hadn't know it was there. Awkward is about right, as she watches him curls fingers around it. This is about normal for her around him.

When he starts to offer to leave, her lips part to protest him leaving, the reaction out of instinct. The idea of being alone after that, makes her stomach twist in fear. Even her blue eyes show, some of that nervousness. Long fingers leave her neck, to shoot out and grab his arm, to stop him from going anywhere, should he try.

Kaylee wants him to stay.

However, she ends up giving him an odd look at something he says. "Week?" She sounds just as confused as she looks. "It's… only been handful of hours." Her hand lets go with a jerk, as if suddenly burned on a hot flame, and comes to rest against her mouth, eyes widening slightly.

"I was suppose to be brought back to when we left…" The telepath looks really worried now, her hand drifting way from her mouth just enough so it's not too muffled. "Oh… oh damn. Eileen… Scott… they have to be pissed." She takes a step back, bumping into Missy, making the puppy scramble back and fall on her rump. "I am… so… so sorry, Joseph." Hand press flat together, in the way people do when they pray, sides of her fingers press against her lips, brows tilted up in worry.

This is so confusing, is what Joseph's eyebrows are trying to communicate in their angled worry, a hand coming to rest over her's before she's retracting as sharply as burning kindling under open flame. Both hands go out to splay, then, in the way someone might with a skittish animal. "It's okay. It'll be— alright, I mean, it don't sound like you just took off for no good reason. T'be honest, everyone's a little scattered since the other week — it's been quiet." His hands go out as well, then, to clasp over the ones she has joined together, ducking his head as if to try and make eye contact.

"Will you— would y'mind telling me what happened? What do you mean, that you're supposed to be brought back when you left? Who did this to you?" And so it begins, the questions, but they're at least being asked gently, if insistently.

The attempt to catch her gaze works, lighter blue eyes flick up to meet his much darker brown ones. Kaylee's own eyes still hold a 'deer in the headlights' look, but he can see a slight slumping of her shoulders as she relaxes and the warm air of a relieved sigh washing over their hands.

There is a dip of the blonde topped head in agreement with his request. What is she going to do? Lie to Joseph?

"Yeah," she says, softly finally following that nod with words. Her hands lower, but she doesn't let the pastor off the hook, moving to curl her fingers around his own callused hands. "I'll —" Brows lower, and her gaze flickers down for a moment, as she realizes how it will end up sounding when she tells the story, even to her is almost… unbelievable. "I'll tell you, but I should warn you, it may sound… weird.

"Of course, you seemed to believe me about the Nightmare Man." So he might not think Kaylee is too crazy.

His hands squeeze her's, Joseph's mouth twisting into a rueful smile. "Yeah. It wouldn't be my first rodeo. Just lemme know what you want t'do, if you— need to clean up or whatever. You kind of look like you got dragged through a Rambo movie. In a— not a good way, but not in a— sorry. I'm just glad you're okay." Shyly, he retracts his hands from her's, that smile going a little crooked at his own stilted words, palms pressing unevenly together as he glances back for her kitchen, back to her.

"I'll stay," he clarifies. "So y'don't go disappearing again, maybe."

That earns Joseph another hug, not something the telepath does lightly. It's a quick — if rather awkward — arms thrown around behind his neck kind, with a quick squeeze. Kaylee even braves, giving his cheek a chaste peck, before she says, "Thank you." Relief clearly heard in her voice. "I promise not to disappear."

Her cheeks are a light shade of pink as she lets go, just as quickly. Feet carrying her backwards, putting a little bit of distance between them. Kaylee glances to the single bedroom within the apartment, giving her head a jerk in that direction, foot sliding that way just a little. "I'll just… go shower first." There is a grimace of disgust as fingers pluck as the clinging, blood soak material. "I won't be able to relax till I do, cause I feel like I've just spent hours in a war zone." Which she kinda was. "Then I'll tell you about my trip to 1945." Leaving him that to ponder over while she's off scrubbing away the evidence of her adventure.

Turning to head for her room and the hot water beyond, Kaylee calls over her shoulder. "Make yourself at home." Her hand catches the door frame, stopping her, so she can turn and look back at Joseph and then kitchen. "I… would offer you some of the sweet tea in there, but…" She wrinkles her nose a bit, "Not sure I'd drink it after it's sat there for a week. So there is water if you need something."

The embrace is returned in a one-armed squeeze, hand clasped at her side before releasing her, a shy tilt of his head under delivery of cheek-kiss for wont of any better reaction.

Stepping back by the time she's headed for her room, Joseph casts a look kitchenwards. "Actually, I got a coupla— things while you were gone," is hitched in the middle due to being somewhat guilty about the fact, breaking into her apartment, and all, even if Joseph's intent was to primarily look after her dog and replace old milk with new. He kind of just vaguely pushes at the air with his hands in an urge for her to go, go relax, never mind him, he'll just put some coffee on and be out here.

When Missy goes moving to follow her mistress, the largeish puppy is scooped up off the floor, taken with as Joseph makes to go and make himself at home as suggested, though the dog may be especially squirmy now that everyone is back where they should be.

Brows lift slightly, one with a bit of blood crusted at one end, Kaylee is a bit surprised. Her head tilts just a bit, as she watches him head for the kitchen. Once he's mostly out of sight, a hand reaches out to grab the edge of the door and swing it shut, giving it a push on slightly uneven hinges til it clicks.

It's easy to tell when she starts the shower, as the metal handles squeak in annoying protest, when they are turned. Shortly followed by the clatter of the shower curtain rings, rattling along the metallic shower rod. He has plenty of time to get the coffee started and probably through half a cup before he's alerted to the showers end.

Not much longer after, the bedroom door is tugged open, admitting a damp and clean telepath. Her hair is back to it's golden hues, hanging wet around her shoulder, thin locks of it clings to her neck, shoulders, and face. Kaylee looks like she feels better.. The reason for it taking so long, evident in her pink skin. She had taken that little net loofah and made sure she got every little bit of dirt, grime and blood off her skin.

"I feel human again." Kaylee calls out, fingers tugging down an old worn, black tank top with Harley-Davidson scrawled across her chest with hot pink rhinestones and equally worn blue jean shorts. She opted for comfortable. Her head tips up as she catches a whiff of coffee, expression sounding whistful. "Oh… Joseph. You are my hero." She states, matter of factly, heading straight for the kitchen.

Making himself at home might translate to standing around in expectation, nursing a cup of coffee, in Tennessee. Rather than settling at a lean in the kitchen or finding a place to perching in the living area, Joseph prefers to be on his feet, although not in an awkward manner — he had been pacing by the window by the time she appears, opening it up a little wider when a cooler breeze seemed to be struggling through. "I try," is dry sounding, glancing back at her as she fixes herself a cup before he's drifting back into the apartment, only then taking a seat as he scuffs rough fingers through dark hair, a restless itch.

"So when you say 1945…"

There is a test sip from her mug, to make sure it's perfect, before she follows the pastor. "Meaning, I was physically in 1945." Bare feet on the hard wood floor, making hardly any noise.

"Okay…" Kaylee starts taking a deep breath, and letting it out as she organizes all those thoughts, rolling around in her head. She tucks her foot under her as she settles onto her couch, sitting sideways, so that she can face Joseph where he sits. Missy hops up after her and sprawls out as best she can on the woman's lap. Resting a shoulder against the back, Kaylee holds the coffee mug in both hands. "So a time traveller showed up in my apartment, a guy named Hiro Nakamura. Tells me that he has a friend that can see the past. Said he saw me there, helping Hiro fix a mistake."

From there she launches into a story, that sounds more like it should be a Tim Burton movie, then actual events that happened.

From being taken to Nazi Germany in 1945, finding a french man there — she doesn't reveal who this person is — who had witnessed things he shouldn't have — "It blows my mind to know that Odessa was there at somepoint." — so the story goes, until the moment she was littered with holes, by a strange woman with an eye patch. That part of the whole thing, takes a bit to tell as the young woman has to fight with herself to get the words out.

Eventually, he'll hear it all, even about the bullet that ripped through her neck, fingers brushing at the spot again. Reluctantly, she'll even add the hours of excruciating pain as the poor man had to dig those bullets out with a knife. "After it all, I still had to finish blocking those memories, before he sent me home." Her ability empowered by the same stuff he had been given at the Institute.

"Anyhow, I'm not sure if this woman will suddenly show up, again." Kaylee reveals softly, eyes on the mug still her in hand, only a little bit of dark liquid left at the bottom of it. That admission most likely the reason she wants him there.

Being a good listener and, as cited, not so unfamiliar with just how insane life can get— well this does push it, admittedly, Joseph sitting with brimming concern as he listens to the mess she was planted into, the things that ensued and pain endured. His coffee was about halfway completed by the time she was out, but has since been left to cool in its mug, stagnant and bitter. After a while, it's set aside altogether, his hands knitted to join and he doesn't immediately comment on the nature of the liquid injected into her bloodstream, and its effects.

There's a worried glance for the door, as if the gunslinging one-eyed assassin was about to come busting through right then, but Joseph instead clears his throat. "There was, uh. A few days ago. When I was comin' by here, someone outside the door. A man, never seen him before and haven't seen 'im since.

"He asked if it was my apartment and I just said yes, an' he said he was lost, real sorry, and took off. I didn't think a lot of it, you hadn't been gone so long, and there's a bunch of people I don't know that drift through."

What he tells her has the worry etching Kaylee's features again, light brows tilting up. "I… I don't know too many guys outside the Ferry, anymore." Leaning, she sets her own mug on the coffee table, with a soft tap of ceramic on wood. "Well, anyone that would really know where I am, since I'm not exacting doing that whole dating thing."

Hands rub nervously along the tops of her legs, the rough fabric of the jean shorts brushing against her skin. The telepath glances at the door, eyes unfocusing into a distant look, listening to the soft hum of mental voices around them.

"Thank you." Slowly, blue eyes sweep back to the Pastor, mouth tilting up into a small soft smile. "You know…" There is a little flip of her hand, towards Joseph,"…for covering for me. On both accounts. Ferry and… whoever it was." Her hand scrubs at the side of her face wearily, before dropping into her lap again. "Not completely sure, what will come from what happened, but it feels like I did the right thing."

"Well, I trust your word on that," Joseph allows, not without some weight of reluctance — going back in time to get shot through with holes had want to be worth it, or maybe not worth it, so it doesn't go and happen again. "Just— that stuff you used? The thing that made you more powerful? The black stuff? It don't— it sounds like somethin' I— experienced. At the Institute. You'll remember it, maybe," he concedes after a second, as if having forgotten the way they'd both, together, plunged through those memories.

A minor shrug. "Just be careful about that, I guess." It seems like he has more to say on the topic, but ultimately decides against it. It's not like she'll be put in the position again, right?


"We should let the rest of 'em know what happened to you. Or at least as much as y'can tell 'em. Mostly 'bout the woman. Or about the man that came by. Or I can, anyway — you could probably do with a little time to collect yourself."

"It… yeah…" There is a sheepishness to what she says, head ducking a bit and nodding a little. "I remember it from putting your memories together… I got curious." Her tongue wets her lower lip, eyes on the dog in her lap. Kaylee can't get herself to admit, how it felt for her to use it and what it did to her. "Worked as advertised," and then some.

"I'll be careful. Well, as best I can." Flicking a glance at the pastor out of the corner of her eye, afraid to meet his look, since she isn't sure how'd she would react if Hiro popped in again needing her help.

Missy is pushed off her lap, so that Kaylee can slide to her feet. "I'll talk to anyone you want me too. You, after all, Pastor Sumter, are one of the council." Both mugs are picked up from the coffee table, one in each hand. "This woman is scary, she makes Raith seem…" There is no way to describe it really. "I dunno, but she's scary." She reaffirms. "And aided by another time traveler."

She starts to move past to take the mugs to the kitchen, but then stops, taking a few steps back. "Could… you show me this person?" It's pretty clear what Kaylee is asking, to be allowed to look at that memory and try to get an idea of who this guy is.

"We could try."

He's standing, then, following enough to take the coffee cups from her and place them down on the kitchen counter. "You, uh," and Joseph starts to offer out his hands, remembers that that's his gesture of ability implementation, the linking of hands, while her's is more direct in its path seeking, "won't have to worry about my ability springing itself. I've been havin' trouble with it lately. I never did get to give you a vision, did I?" There's a glimmer of hope in dark eyes, like maybe it's missingness would be okay if he's at least used it to help everyone he's cared for, but, suddenly unsure if he ever granted that for the telepath.

It's been a long past couple of years, and there's been a lot of people, a lot of visions dealt. Joseph shakes his head, dismissing, a vague gesture of his hand that's like batting at a fly. "Never mind. Yeah, sure, go for it. It wasn't so long ago."

Her mouth pulls up into a bit of a smirk, head shifts side to side slowly, "Nope, well, if you don't count June, which I don't." He gets his answer anyhow. " I also haven't asked for one," Kaylee points out softly, eyes moving over his features, as close as they are. "Sometimes… knowing the future, isn't the best thing." Like seeing her own death, they both have seen what she saw that day, even if he did so accidentally.

It's like knowing you have terminal cancer, it's always on your mind.

"I'd be afraid of knowing the truth on somethings in my life." It's admitted, brows lifting a little in a 'There you have it.' sorta way. "Plus, it would feel a little like cheating, in some aspects of my life." The last added, with a bit of brightness and a little scrunching of her nose.

Her thumb rubs against the pads of her fingers as her hands lift, before seeking to rest gently against his temple, tucked under his dark hair just a little. Her eyes meet his, for a moment as she adds, "I am sorry your having trouble with your ability. Me… I have a hard time without mine, mainly… cause it's kind of lonely without hearing the murmuring.

"Insanely quiet, too."

Giving him a reassuring smile, blue eyes slide shut so that she can concentrate on sliding into his head. Her mental touch is a gentle caress, rather then taking the stealthy way in. Kaylee prefers he knows she's in there. Her voice is a breathy whisper, as she asks out loud, "Okay, guide me there. Think about that day for me?"

It's not too difficult — for all that Joseph dismissed it, the event was distinct enough, odd enough, to stick within his mind as determined as a thorn before the inevitability of other filling memories push it out on its own. Like a thorn, too. He keeps his eyes open for some of it, before selfconsciously joining her in shrouding darkness, eyes shut like prayer, fingertips absently resting on her bent elbow as he casts his mind back a little like a fishing line.

The memories shift together like cards, he's seen this hallway a few times before, night and day, until it's a noon sort of light angling in through the window. The figure of the stranger is more like a smudge, at first, before his frame gets definition back, the material of his jacket and the way his hand is balanced on the handle of her door. Recalling some startle, and then maybe a weird kind of tension that has Joseph's hands clenching — not aggressive, more self-consciousness.

"Can I help you?" flies out of his mouth before he can really think about it, and he's rewarded with the man turning to him. Older than him, a fedora pulled down low enough to conceal his eyes.

"I don't suppose you can. Is this your apartment?" asks the stranger — stranger to both himself and Kaylee.


The brittle lie seems to hit its mark enough, though it's hard to tell from the smile that flashes his way, a vague wave of his hand. "Then I'm on the wrong floor, clearly," with an accent that marks him American, maybe second generation from something else, but impossible to tell from where. "You have a good day."

The memory shorts out, a brief glance of the man heading away to the stairwell, downwards, before it's gone again.

By the time Kaylee is pulling herself out from memory, Joseph is already taking her hand in his, expectant curiousity on his face.

Long lashes flutter as her eyes flutter open and slowly focus on Joseph, settling herself back into her own head. Fingers tighten in his hand, thumb brushes along the back of his knuckles. His curious look is finally met with lips pressed into a thin line and a short single jerk of Kaylee's head, no. "Not familiar."

That seems to worry her.

"It… It could have been nothing." Kaylee doesn't sound completely convinced of this, eyes lifting from a point on his shoulder to his dark eyes. "He could have been just looking for someone within the apartment building?" Grasping at straws there, lady. So not only could this crazy time traveling lady be our there, now there is strange people showing up at her door. He didn't have a blue box either, so not her brother.

There is a short intake of air, before she sighs out, "If it's not one thing…" She doesn't continue that thought, the words trailing off softly, eyes shutting against the overwhelming feeling that everything is suddenly dropping into her lap. Most of it seems bad.

"Don't worry about it," Joseph invites, with a squeeze to her hand. "For today, anyhow. I take it your day just got about six hours longer, never mind the week. I can put up a notice about watching for non-residents sneaking around and no one'll expect us to do much more'n that, and I'll let the rest of the council know what happened. Who knows what's relevant, these days."

Flannel clad shoulders bounce a shrug, deliberate nonchalance. "I mean, hell, I just figured he must've been a— you know. A friend of yours. I guess in hindsight he's a lot older'n— uh. Who was that other guy, anyway? Parker somethin'? President's brother." Lighthearted, a possible attempt to steer the conversation, but the awkward shuffle to the left is certainly genuine as Joseph sets about going to clean out coffee mugs, back turning to her.

"Peter. Peter Petrelli."

The name is said completely flat, with a bitterness about as strong as the coffee. Turning, Kaylee rests a hip against the counter heavily. Arms fold across her chest as she watches Joseph's back. "That… ended pretty badly. I sure as heck I never told him where I moved, either." Personally, if she never sees him again, it's for the better. "And I haven't bothered to update my registration, so… he shouldn't have an easy time finding me.

Eyes travel to the linoleum floor, studying the little bumps and tears it's collected over it's years. "He couldn't accept that I was one of the Ferrymen. Wanted me to quit, turn my back on everything." Kaylee scuffs a toes over one of the bumps. "He kinda exploded after the Institute kidnapped me and he found out, kicked me out."

It's her turn to gives a little shrug of her shoulders, looking up again. "I had hoped, however, it might have been my brother. Which, by the way, is another tale… even weirder then the time traveling." Kaylee can't help but smile a bit, "Involves my father leaving me a message in Lorraine's head." The blonde invokes the name of the mother of Raith's offspring.

"My father, is… odd. He uses what he knows to predict the outcome of future events. Somehow, he knew I was going to have a look into Lorraine's head." Kaylee shakes her head a bit, still having a hard time grasping the idea herself. "Anyhow, the message he left told me, my brother would come to me and he'd be carrying a blue box."

A hand lifts to rub against her forehead, a small headache developing over it all.

These are. The cleanest. Damn. Coffee mugs in the world. For all that Joseph is watching them intently as he rinses them of coffee, the darker clinging dregs swilled out by the trickling water, and fortunately, by the time he's setting them aside to drip dry, Kaylee's back to talking of her adventures, clandestine secrets and twists. "Well, maybe it still was," he adds, with a half-smile, a shrug following. "Maybe this just means you didn't miss the— miss the train, on that one, and the next time he comes by, you're here and he's thought to bring a gift along."

Cleaning off his hands on a dishtowel, Joseph pauses as he glances around the place with his hands out like there's some other task waiting for him, but— there isn't, and hands come to hang at his sides, giving her a rueful sort of smile.

"Okay, well. I guess I should let you go lie down and settle in, and I'll see what we can do Ferryside about all this." And he steps away so as to skirt around the woman in the room, taking care to leave room as opposed to the sudden embrace at the event of her return, or the clutching hands after her more telepathic journeying.

"Maybe…" Brows furrow a bit, still not convinced or maybe she's just a little paranoid.

The young woman goes silent then, unsure what else to say to the pastor. Awkwardness decends on her again. Kaylee's eyes drift back to the ground, uncertainty etched on her features. "Yeah… I feel worn out." She admits, voice sounding a little tired. "Sleep sounds good." Would she be able to rest?

When he tries to skirt around her, however, something has Kaylee moving to stop him with a hand on his arm, long delicate fingers try to hold on before he can escape. "Joseph…" The telepath starts, looking like she has something important she wants to say, her eyes speak volumes, but the words just won't form in her head.

Her courage then fails the normally confident woman, expression falling and fingers loosening on his arm. "Um… thank you. For everything and the help."

There's a lot of people asking what could have been, lately. What happens when someone remembers the things they shouldn't, what happens when you interfere? It might not be to the same existential degree, when Joseph's footsteps finally propel him out from the Bronx apartment, and Kaylee is left alone to her silence, but the gentle click of the closing door might ask it for them.

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