Whatever Happens


devon2_icon.gif melissa_icon.gif

Scene Title Whatever Happens
Synopsis After awakening from another potentially troubling dream, Melissa confides in Devon about it.
Date April 14, 2011

Morningside Heights : Perry's Apartment

It's late, past the time when even this household is normally all asleep in their beds, cribs or couches. It's an hour or so before dawn, and normally it would be hours before anyone, even Junie woke up. That isn't the case tonight. Tonight there's a soft sound from the bedroom Melissa and Perry share, and then some scrambling around, before Melissa comes out, a robe wrapped around her, her eyes wide, hair crazy, and a cell phone in her hand.

She dials a number, listening to the ringing as she heads to the kitchen, running into a chair with a muttered curse, and heading straight for the liquor. Something she hasn't touched in weeks. "C'mon…Come on! Pick up," she whispers, pulling down a bottle of tequila, opening it, and gulping down several swallows.

The couch is occupied, as can be expected, Devon sprawled on the pull out but not fully asleep. His head lifts at the sounds of someone moving around, eyes slanting toward the hall that leads to the bedrooms. When he catches sight of Melissa he turns slightly, propping himself up on an elbow but remains silent for the long moment that he watches her.

As she moves into the kitchen, the teenager sits himself upright and grabs for the t-shirt he'd been wearing earlier that day. "What's going on," he asks, his already quiet tones muffled by the shirt being dragged over his head. Devon scrubs a hand through his hair as he stands and walks barefoot but in board shorts and now t-shirt into the kitchen. "What's wrong?"

The voice from behind her makes Melissa jump and turn abruptly, dropping the phone to reach for a gun that isn't there. When she realizes that it's Devon she slumps back against the counter, bending to pick up the phone and set it down. A heavy drink is taken, and she drags her now empty hand through her hair. It looks like she's crying, but in the dim light, it's hard to tell. And then she whispers two words, two words that hold so many emotions it's hard to distinguish one from the other.

"A dream."

"Sorry," Devon says quickly, holding up a hand to stay any further violent motions and now more fully awake, the apology meant for frightening her. He steps forward and gently removes the bottle from her grasp, turning with it to replace the cap. "Like the last one," he asks, concerned and glancing toward Melissa. "Or something else?"

Melissa blinks at him for a moment, trying to keep tears from falling. "Do you remember…how I mentioned a son in my last dream?" she whispers, fingers tightening, as though she were still holding the bottle. "The one Elaine asked about, but that I was clueless about? I saw him. Oh god I saw him."

Sinking down to sit on the floor, Mel rubs her hands over her face. "He was so adorable. Blonde, blue-eyed, just like me. So eager to help people. And he wanted so badly to go ice skating with me. I said I'd never been. I don't know why I said that. I have been," she murmurs softly.

With a nod, Devon lowers himself to sit beside Melissa. One arm drapes across his knees while the other is draped across Mel's shoulders, a gentle weight and companionable presence. His brows knit together slightly as he listens to the recounting, curious. "What happened," he asks, glancing toward her.

Melissa leans into him, needing the comfort that his presence provides. "I…was in an office, doing paperwork. And the door opened. It was this little boy. Like, I don't know, five or six. I'm not good with kid's ages," she murmurs. It takes her a moment before she can continue. "He was mine. My son. He came over, sat on my lap, asked if we could go ice skating. Told him I'd never been, that I'd try to make time, but that I doubted it. Too many people to help."

She smiles, a teary smile. "He wanted to help people too. Said he wanted to start by helping me throw stuff away. He just…when he looked at me with those hopeful blue eyes, I wanted to give the world to him. But I…his name…his father…" She closes her eyes. "It's not possible. It can't be possible. I would never do it," she whispers.

Giving a squeeze, Devon refrains from asking further questions for the moment, just allowing silence to sit and give things a chance to settle. He squeezes Mel's shoulders again then relaxes his hold just a little. He looks at Melissa for a moment, offering a faint smile, concerned. "Who was it," he asks quietly.

There's no immediate answer, just Melissa staring into space, like in some sort of trance. Reliving the dream, perhaps. "There was a picture on the wall. Me, in a wedding dress. But I'd never marry him. And he's too old. Time travel's possible…but why wouldn't he tell me? Why wouldn't he tell me that he's my son?" she murmurs, voice gradually growing louder.

Again there's no immediate response, Devon simply sitting quietly and allowing her to run through emotions and speak as she would. He gives another hug, tightening his hold around her shoulders, offering what small comfort he can.

"In my dream…I called him Cade. And months ago, I had a date where I went ice skating for the first time, with someone who said his mother was never able to take him," Melissa whispers. "He sent me skates for Christmas. Black ones, with pink laces and pink skulls. So very me. He'd only met me twice. Once, really."

"Start from the beginning," Devon asks gently, tilting his head to look at her. Though concerned and confused, he tries to keep it from his expression. He gives a small smile, encouraging, and prompts. "You met someone and went ice skating…"

Melissa licks her lips and glances around the tequila. "It was a date auction. I went up, the last one to be auctioned off. He bought my date. Said it would be a business thing. But we went ice skating. We talked. Some business, some personal," she whispers. "He was concerned, about my happiness. He bought me a Christmas present. He's the one who encouraged me to go to Hawaii, where Perry and I realized that we were good together. He taught me how to cook, well, how to cook one thing," she says with a faint smile. Her inability to cook is well known.

She turns to look at Devon, and her eyes are sad, still bright with tears. "My son's name was Cade. Kincaid. You work for Studio K. Perhaps you know someone with an ability like mine?" she whispers.

"I know Kincaid," Devon answers. The smile twists toward more neutrality though his mind is running over the implications of Melissa's dreams. Kincaid, or Cade. It's too much coincidence to be dismissed outright. "…I don't know what ability he has. He… It's okay, Melissa." He tries to pull back that smile, corners of his mouth twitching upward. "Did something happen in it? To him?"

Melissa smiles faintly. "His ability is sort of the reverse of mine. He can null his own pain, though not just pain. Adaptation, he called it," she murmurs. "I know he's okay though. But Devon…If the dream is like the others, if it's not just a dream…" She closes her eyes. "Then there is so much wrong I don't know where to begin."

"If it's like the others," Devon echoes, his brows arching this time, "then it's a possibility, but not a what has to be. You have Perry now, and… maybe one day you two will make a 'Cade' of your own." He pauses, filling in the silence with another easy hug, though he's not really sure what to say. A lot of people seem to be having these dreams. And it's well beyond his realm of understanding. "…Maybe you should talk to Kincaid."

Melissa lets her head fall back against the counter and she laughs, a humorless sound. "Who do you think I was calling? He didn't pick up. But Devon…you don't understand," she murmurs. "Kincaid was in the dome with us. He was there when Humanis First nearly killed us, to flush out the guy who put the Dome up. He…offered his life, to save mine. And in the dream…In the dream, I was married. To his father, I'm guessing," she whispers.

The teenager nods slowly, drawing his arms back to himself and letting both drape over his knees. "I know, he… we talked a little at the studio. He'd been hiding with Humanis First, for survival. He got found out and…" The rest can probably be guessed, so Devon suffices with a sigh. His head tilts again, eyes going to Melissa, still worried and uncertain. He doesn't know what to make of it, and seeing Mel torn up over it is troubling.

"Yeah, but if I'd known…if he really is and I'd known, I would've done everything I could. Anything I could," Melissa murmurs, shaking her head slowly. "The kicker though, is the father. You know him too. We spoke about him not too long ago. But that's impossible. I would never touch him. Never let him touch me. But he was there, next to me in the picture."

That makes Devon wince. The reaction to his own revelation of employers still a fresh memory but to learn that. "Shit." While it's probably not the best of responses, his adolescent side seems to be kicking in and filling in where maturity fails. But it also does to solidify his theory of possibilities and not actualities. "It's like some episode of Star Trek," he says, head tipping back until it, too, rests against the counter. "It's a could have been, Melissa. And… time traveling. But why?"

Melissa slowly shrugs her shoulders, finally spotting the tequila and grabbing it. Dammit, she deserves a drink. She doesn't speak until she's had one. "I don't know. But Kincaid is still there. He was there after I started hating the bastard in that picture." She doesn't seem able to say his name though. "And I've traveled in time. Twice. I know it's possible, with the right ability. I just don't know why. I intend to ask, though."

With a nod, Devon looks over at Melissa. After she's had her drink, he reaches out to take the bottle again. Not forcibly, though. He won't press if she doesn't give it up. "If you want support when you meet with him, you can always call me."

Melissa shakes her head, hand tightening on the bottle. "I haven't had a drink for weeks. I think this is deserving of a little drunkeness," she murmurs, though she doesn't take another sip. "I think…it's something I should do on my own. I don't think I'll even want Perry there," she says softly. "But Devon? Please, don't tell anyone? Especially not Kincaid or…him. I'll tell Perry, but no one else. Please?" she asks, her eyes pleading, vulnerable.

There's no insistence on taking the bottle, when it isn't relinquished, the teenager offers just a nod. Then, once again Devon moves to pull Melissa into a one armed hug. "No one'll find out until you're ready to tell them," he says quietly, gently squeezing her shoulders. "I promise."

The hug isn't returned, but Melissa does lean into him. "I just don't know what to think about the whole thing. Part of me wants it to just be a dream. Something my mind made up after the last few. Part of me is thrilled, just wants to go to him and hug him, though he's gotta be as old as I am. And part of me is pissed off, that he didn't tell me."

"Wish I knew what to tell you," Devon says quietly, "to help you figure it all out." He hugs her again, even offering a small bit of a grin and managing to mask a little of his concern. "It'll work out though. And Perry and I, and Kendall and Junie? We're all here for you, whatever happens."

Melissa doesn't react for a moment, before she's setting the bottle down and smiling, a weak smile, but it's there as she returns the hug. "I know. And I love all four of you. And I like Kincaid. Even beyond the fact that I have him to thank for so much. I just think I'm going to be useless until I talk to him."

Devon nods and tightens the hug briefly. "Why don't you get some more sleep," he suggests with a smile, "Kincaid can wait until it's a more normal hour for you to call him. And everything'll be fine."

"I'm not sure sleep is something that's going to be coming anytime soon," Melissa says with a wry smile. "But you go on. I'm just going to…I don't know. Shower, then curl up in some corner with headphones and the DVD player. Men in Tights, I think. How can you go wrong watching a bunch of men prancing around in tights, being goofy?"

"I'll take care of Junie when she wakes up," Devon offers as he stands. A hand is extended to pull Melissa up as well. "We'll make pancakes together or something. And you can have a Mel Brooks marathon."

Melissa glances off towards where she knows Junie's crib is, then she takes Devon's hand and pulls herself to her feet and smiles. It's still not a fully formed smile, but it is warm. "Who knew that I'd get something good out of being forced to live in Summer Meadows again?" she murmurs, leaning in to kiss his cheek before slipping off towards the bathroom.

With a small shrug to answer Melissa's question, Devon grins a little. He watches as she walks down the hall then turns to the pull out bed. With yawn, he flops down onto it, sprawled but unlikely to go back to sleep again either. He can pretend at least, and keep an ear out for Junie.

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