Truths, Revelations And Catfish


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Scene Title Truth's, Revelations And Catfish
Synopsis Abigail and Dean leave Victor to her mother's clutch and do some talking out on a boat, on a lake while fishing for catfish.
Date July 25, 2009

Lost Lake, Louisiana

It's not clear, it's murky, and log ridden and exactly the kinda place, you wanna catch catfish!

Saturday means that Dean isn't working and Victor has been left to the mercy and eighty bajillion questions about his relationship with her daughter. This leaves Abigail with her father in a boat on a lake and fishing. Abigail's suggestion since she knows that he hasn't had the chance to do it much lately from their conversations and that at least here, she can talk with him about things that she and he have kept from her mother. He can also grill her too, away from Speedy McSpeedster.

The line is cast out again, the lure catching the sun as it's starting to seriously set while it goes sailing through the air and lands in the water. Sinking low to tempt it's quarry. Cargo pants, white tank top, fishing vest and a fishing hat, she's a happy sight parked on the boat beside her father, a bottle of Gatorade and some half eaten sandwiches. They're not expected back for a few hours yet. The cooler has two fish already of fair size, both caught by Dean. Abigail has been getting nothing but small ones and is biding her time. "Almost done this semester of classes, I'll have to make up some when I get home, but I brought some stuff with me, and I should pass, easily. I sorta lied and said I had a family emergency. But I'll make it up" She jerks the line a little, reeling the lure in towards her and waiting for a nibble.

"Thou shalt not bear false witness," Dean observes stolidly to the mention of the lies, the bobber at the end of his line drifting lazily back and forth with the tides. A sidelong look to her, then, a smile edging a bit up at one corner of his lips as he notes, "Although if you went too much longer without comin' by, darlin', I think that your mother may've caused a family emergency."

A tug on the line to ensure the bait jiggle beneath the surface, asking then as his gaze returns to the rippling of water, "So." A pause. "What's really up in that city've yours, Abigail?"

Damnit. He'd noticed her going for her cellphone. "I know Dah. I'll make up for the lie, I promise. Even if it was done with good intentions" Her bobber slowly gravitates towards her. "You saw the news?" Of course he did, who doesn't. "Friend of mine, he bought a plane ticket. I think he knew what was going to happen. He wanted me to be safe" There's a wrinkle of Abigail's nose. "It's bad Dah. Really bad. There's all sorts of groups, good and bad, just having at each other, having it out on the streets. Every time I turn around, there's something that's happened. Heck, even the church isn't immune and someone defaced it." There's another shake of the blonde girls head.

"You know you've never been able t'fool your ol' dah." The older man's head tips just a bit to look back to her, his lips tugging up at one corner in the slightest of smiles, "An' how is that different from any other day, darlin'? There's always people fightin' - good people, bad people. Where there's more people, there's more've each - good an' bad alike. An' there's a whole lot of people up there in the Big Apple."

"Yeah there's people fighting Dah just.. It's more than most people know. More than you know" Abigail murmurs as she gets no bite and sets herself up to re-cast again. "They said that a group called phoenix might have had a hand in it all, bringing down Pinehearst. I know they did. Richard wanted me out, said a bunch of people were gonna die" So far, there hasn't been a whole crapload of deaths.

"The healing, it got me in contact with a lot of people. Phoenix was one of them. Bunch of other groups" Sorta confession time with dad.

"So uhmm, a friend of mine, she died. Someone murdered her" There's a frown again. "Isabelle, she used to be my boss. She owned a bar not far from home. You saw it, passed by it. Old Lucy's" She throws the line out, looking over to her father. "She left it to me. The bar that is"

At the words of terrorists and death, Dean's brow furrows… and then he slowly reels in his line, shaking the bit of bait off the hook to let it sink as fish-food through the waters. The fishing pole is set to one side in the boat, and then he turns a bit to face his daughter, reaching over to lay a hand on her knee lightly. His expression is serious as he regards her in silence for a moment, and then he says quietly, "Ah know ah don't know everything you've gotten into, darlin', but you can't fool me. Ah knew even when ah visited that there were things you weren't tellin' me." A deep breath's drawn in, and he shakes his head a little, "Ah don't like it. Ah'm not going to… deny that."

"I don't get called anymore Dah. They used me for healing, that's all. I don't have that anymore. I mean, I really don't have that" Her own hand covers his on her knee. "It's good and gone, I dun even have what they use to tell gifted people from those not. The phoenix people tried, I'm not bearing gods gift anymore" Abigail shifts a bit, tugging on her line. "I'm just going to school now, helping out at church, helping out with those that help the gifted, not some terrorists that are freedom fighters. You won't need to worry about that anymore Dah. Lifes gonna calm down. I mean.. lookit, I brought Victor. Things calmed down enough that I can try and find a good man"

There's a deep worry behind her father's eyes, lines dug deep into the sides of his face at their edges. "Ah told you that they'd try to use you, darlin', can't say that ah didn't warn you…" A heavy sigh spills from his lips, his eyes closing, "Ah suppose you needed to learn your own lessons, though."

'You have to fall, to learn to pick yourself back up and I knew that Dah. The few of them are doing right by me. Cat, Ms. Chesterfield, is seeing fit to help me go through school. She really is doing right by me. Teo, He's still around, he shows up to see how i'm doing. Al left, but I have a new roommate, Leo. He's got nightmares, like me. But we're doing good by each other. he makes sure i'm on mah toes. Richard checks in, sees if there's anything. There's Agent Ivanov, of the FBI. He hasn't stopped just because I can't keep him alive. He's stopped by the bar a few times, and asked if there's anything I can do. Not everyone used me Dah. And besides, I let them do it. It was what god gave me the gift to do" Which brings her pause.

"Dah, Does the name Francois mean anything to you? Did we ever have a man visit? stay with us? Act funny?"

A slight nod answers her words, one world-weary and slow, and the worry doesn't quite leave his eyes— but there's something else there, as a smile touches his lips. His hand lifts from her knee, brushing her cheek briefly before he says quietly, "Ah know, darlin'. An' ah always knew you'd be able to pick yourself back up when the time came. Ah jus' wanted to spare you all that…"

A pause, then, as she does, brow furrowing in deeper lines, "Francois… why?"

"Dunno. Someone asked me if I ever met someone named Francois. Said he could do what I could do" Abigail shrugs. "I don't remember. Might have met him when I was like twelve maybe. probably" No bite from the fish, though she rubs her cheek along her dad's hand in affection. "Someone thinks that whatever healing this Francois had, that he gave it to me. But I don't remember any Francois, nor anyone giving me a gift" She's sure of it. She's spent a lot of time trying to remember. The look on her fathers face gives her pause though.


"You were younger than that. Five or… six… maybe?" Dean Beauchamp leans back a bit on the bench, his hand raising to scrub against his jaw in a thoughtful manner, "You came home talkin' about a man by that name, who was hurt, bad. We called the police, followed you there — there wasn't anyone, jus' some blood on a tree there. We assumed he wasn't that bad hurt, walked off on 'is own…"

"your pulling my leg" Abigail accuses.

A low chuckle, and Dean replies, "You ever known your dah t'lie to you, darlin'?"

"There was.. a guy name Francois?" She's floored. "Did I say anything? Do anything? Dah, what happened!"

That hand lifts, warding her off as he notes with a shake of his head, "Jus' what ah said, darlin'. Nothin' more, nor less. Ah would've thought you'd imagined him if there wasn't blood on that tree…"

Abigail looks away from her father towards the water and her unmoving bobber. A little in shock. "But I couldn't heal until.. I was twelve." There's puzzlement on her face. "I know a man who's gift is to stop time. Go back, forward, make it still. He said.. that they met a man named Francois. That.. that he had my ability, the Lords gift" She explains it to him then, the whole theory from Hiro about the Kami/spirit and that that's what her ability was. She doesn't quite look at him, instead casting her line a few times. The fish don't like her it seems.

As she explains the theory, Dean lays hand to pole once more and casts his line - listening with the silent patience that he's always been known for, nodding quietly at parts although it's unlikely that he understands all of it fully. When she falls silent, he makes a thoughtful sound under his breath, casting the line out once more with a tiny splash out in the water. "It sounds," he says finally, slowly, "That you aren't - weren't - jus' one of these 'Evolved' after all. Jus' maybe this is an angel sent down by th'Lord Himself to give succor an' healing to man, passing from host to host where it's most needed."

"Flint. With an angel in him" Abigail frowns at that. I don't think it's an angel. I think…" What does she think. "I think it was something special, but I can't countenance it being an angel Dah. A spirit, a holy spirit yes, but an angel, no" Abigail shakes her head. "Pastor Sumter's vision, it was right. THe lord showed me that woman offering me an apple with the snake, and I took it dah, heavens, I let her try to fix me and all she did was turn my hair from blue back to blonde and tell me there was nothing to fix and from there…." Be wary if you eat from the tree of knowledge, for what you learn cannot be unlearned.

"A holy spirit…" A thoughtful sound mused beneath Dean's breath, "…ah can believe that. There've been blessed chosen to heal in the past, ah never really bought that— genetic bull-hockey." He turns his head to look to her, quirking a bit of a smile, "Of course not, darlin'. You've never been— " Wait. "…blue?"

"Don't ask Dah. Just don't ask. I ran around with blue hair. it was mortifying. I think that someone at church has pictures of me setting out the social's food with it" As if Dean can imagine his daughter with Blue hair. "So. Victor" She looks over. "Momma's interrogating him right now, isn't she"

"Oh, Lord, your hair was blue." Dean rubs a hand over his eyes, murmuring to his rough-callused palm, "Please, please do not ever tell your momma that one, Abigail. Ah think she might drop dead on the spot." His hand falls, and he notes dryly, "Of course she is."

"I don't know if you've noticed Dah, but there's a great deal that I haven't done told momma" She points out. "We should probably tell her that I can't heal anymore. Before she starts lining people up at church for me to 'shake hands' with"

"Ah suppose we should," Dean admits with a heavy sigh, turning his gaze towards the water's edge, "She's not going t'take it well, ah suspect."

"Well. Maybe she'll take it better than I did" One can hope that her mother doesn't go into hysterics. There's a bite on her line then, something tugging, causing the bobber to go low under the surface and Abigail smiles, starting to reel her line in. "Think I got a good one now Dah"

As the bobber's tugged under, Dean smiles— reeling in his line, he drops the pole to one side in the boat, moving to circle an arm around his daughter's shoulder and reaching to help steady the pole with his other hand. "Let's hope you did, darlin'," he murmurs, "Let's hope you did."

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