[ trust, he'd learned, gets you killed. at the commission, you only trusted your colleagues. well, sort of. he was never a team player, like hazel and cha-cha. the handler only wanted him to trust her, really. he pretended to.
he only ever trusted his brothers and sisters. ]
The Army. [heh.] The Handler always had the good stuff. The best of everything.
[ the best of everything. but, ah, that's getting close to topics that, even drunk, he knows aren't up for discussion. so he buries himself in that mug. then, ]
She was right. She said it'd be impossible to stop the apocalypse. [ she'd said a lot of things he's starting to reconsider disbelieving. ] And Ben saw it happen.
( can you rail against fate? whatever's meant? he ain't got no notion. that much ain't meant for mortal knowin'. but his expression stays soft as five rambles on. he's dedicated his life an' his death so far to the fixin' of others, but five's ailment ain't anythin' he knows how to soothe.
his pa would know. reggie would. but five's got only him.
gene pours himself a cup of coffee too, wrappin' both hands around the mug. though he sets it to one side an' pulls out a handkerchief, leanin' in to clean up wherever five sloshed his out.
[ because, see, talking to the dead is klaus's trick. is gene's. but five's spent so much time around them too -- not ghosts, just bodies. spirits might be one thing, but the dead have never talked back to him. ]
I used to talk to them. Never got any answers. [ then, like it's a new thought, ] Oh, too bad you weren't around.
( even if there were any guarantee they shared the same earth, he'd have been — ninety-six? by then. or dead. he ain't given much thought to how long he'll reside on the mortal coil, but his family does have a curious longevity to 'em. but anyhow, his bein' there wouldn't have changed the decades of loss and loneliness for five, who'd grown used to it for necessity's sake.
he withdraws into his own space, takes a sip of the bitter coffee he's got himself. the dead don't care. how untrue that is. but it's pedantry to point the matter out. five was just a kid when he was learnin' the hard ways of the world, an' they shaped him. )
No, [ he agrees, easily. because, see: ] You wouldn't have survived, either.
[ maybe the entire planet wasn't scorched. maybe, like mk's world, like the handler's assertion that the apocalypse hadn't been the end of everything, there was other life somewhere. somewhere out there, on the planet. but five was alone for four decades, never made contact with anyone else, so it's his truth that he was the last survivor. it's true for all intents and purposes.
he looked, you know? searched broken buildings, empty roadways. tried to reach out through radios, rewired a mostly-functional television a couple of times. got nothing but static. ]
( folks don't want to hear that everything happens for a reason. it's such a tired way to speak on the matter of destiny, as it absolves everythin' that happens up to that point. fact is, he don't know why five survived. what purpose it served, if any save sufferin'. it don't seem somethin' you can see god's hand in, that's for sure. why would he put that much on one soul?
an' then, after all that, five died. an' as far as he can tell, the end still came anyhow. lord. )
[ he's quiet a long, long moment, still as a statue. ]
I couldn't die until I got home. If I was there, I thought I could save them.
[ see: he wasn't there, and they died. but if he could just get back, if he could just warn them, if he could just help them --
it's not an uncommon sentiment among those who have lost people. but to a boy, to a man, who can defy the laws of time, it's not just a sentiment; it's a mandate. ]
( yet. he's here. an' that means that for all his tryin', all that hopin' an' wonderin', whatever difference he made in the end like as not weren't enough. gene's expression twists. it may not be his world exactly, but it's a world, an' the lost of life won't ever be a place grief don't find him. )
Five, you did the best you could with what you had. It weren't your fault.
( what else can he offer? hard enough to speak to someone six sheets to the wind, much less one in a maudlin pile of self-recrimination. gene's faced down similar situations on smaller scales — men an' women who were the sole survivors of a massacre, or an ambush, or any other manner of atrocity the war over. but never somethin' like this. where it's a matter of the world. )
An' there's no tellin' that you can't go back. That somethin' else can't be done, you know? Maybe this ain't a stoppin' point for you.
[ the coffee was a mistake, and not just because it tasted like shit.
but the caffeine jolts its way through his system, meets the alcohol in his blood and congeals into a sharp awareness. the very kind of thing he'd been trying to avoid by drinking in the first place. makes the easy humor of drunkenness slowly fall away, makes him all too aware of the things eugene's trying to tell him.
still, there's enough left that he can smile as if gene made a joke, remind, ]
Ah, except we're dead.
[ should be dead. died. but they still walk and talk and breathe, have to live with what happens in their worlds, so what's the difference?
he's had 45 years of regret, is the thing. 45 years of steadily growing self-recrimination. such a long, long time alone with his demons, alone with his ghosts. alone. maybe he's not digging their bodies out of the ash this time, but it feels the same.
no, not the same.
grief was a fresh shock to the system back then, an unfamiliar beast. now it lives under his skin, inhabits him, thrums in synchrony with his every heartbeat. how many times can you grieve someone? ]
Ashes to ashes.
[ and yep he's going to be needing that bucket now, gene. whiskey and coffee are doing his stomach no favors. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2019-08-04 08:44 pm (UTC)he only ever trusted his brothers and sisters. ]
The Army. [ heh. ] The Handler always had the good stuff. The best of everything.
[ the best of everything. but, ah, that's getting close to topics that, even drunk, he knows aren't up for discussion. so he buries himself in that mug. then, ]
She was right. She said it'd be impossible to stop the apocalypse. [ she'd said a lot of things he's starting to reconsider disbelieving. ] And Ben saw it happen.
[ he waves a hand, sloshing the coffee. ]
All gone.
no subject
Date: 2019-08-05 10:30 pm (UTC)his pa would know. reggie would. but five's got only him.
gene pours himself a cup of coffee too, wrappin' both hands around the mug. though he sets it to one side an' pulls out a handkerchief, leanin' in to clean up wherever five sloshed his out.
gently, )
Listen... ain't nobody can say you didn't try.
no subject
Date: 2019-08-05 11:37 pm (UTC)The dead don't care.
[ because, see, talking to the dead is klaus's trick. is gene's. but five's spent so much time around them too -- not ghosts, just bodies. spirits might be one thing, but the dead have never talked back to him. ]
I used to talk to them. Never got any answers. [ then, like it's a new thought, ] Oh, too bad you weren't around.
no subject
Date: 2019-08-25 10:14 pm (UTC)he withdraws into his own space, takes a sip of the bitter coffee he's got himself. the dead don't care. how untrue that is. but it's pedantry to point the matter out. five was just a kid when he was learnin' the hard ways of the world, an' they shaped him. )
Don't know that I would'a been any help.
no subject
Date: 2019-08-25 10:29 pm (UTC)[ maybe the entire planet wasn't scorched. maybe, like mk's world, like the handler's assertion that the apocalypse hadn't been the end of everything, there was other life somewhere. somewhere out there, on the planet. but five was alone for four decades, never made contact with anyone else, so it's his truth that he was the last survivor. it's true for all intents and purposes.
he looked, you know? searched broken buildings, empty roadways. tried to reach out through radios, rewired a mostly-functional television a couple of times. got nothing but static. ]
I was an accident. A fluke.
[ a time traveler. ]
no subject
Date: 2019-08-25 11:31 pm (UTC)an' then, after all that, five died. an' as far as he can tell, the end still came anyhow. lord. )
How'd you do it? All those years.
no subject
Date: 2019-08-26 12:31 am (UTC)I couldn't die until I got home. If I was there, I thought I could save them.
[ see: he wasn't there, and they died. but if he could just get back, if he could just warn them, if he could just help them --
it's not an uncommon sentiment among those who have lost people. but to a boy, to a man, who can defy the laws of time, it's not just a sentiment; it's a mandate. ]
no subject
Date: 2019-09-10 10:53 pm (UTC)Five, you did the best you could with what you had. It weren't your fault.
( what else can he offer? hard enough to speak to someone six sheets to the wind, much less one in a maudlin pile of self-recrimination. gene's faced down similar situations on smaller scales — men an' women who were the sole survivors of a massacre, or an ambush, or any other manner of atrocity the war over. but never somethin' like this. where it's a matter of the world. )
An' there's no tellin' that you can't go back. That somethin' else can't be done, you know? Maybe this ain't a stoppin' point for you.
no subject
Date: 2019-09-11 02:48 am (UTC)but the caffeine jolts its way through his system, meets the alcohol in his blood and congeals into a sharp awareness. the very kind of thing he'd been trying to avoid by drinking in the first place. makes the easy humor of drunkenness slowly fall away, makes him all too aware of the things eugene's trying to tell him.
still, there's enough left that he can smile as if gene made a joke, remind, ]
Ah, except we're dead.
[ should be dead. died. but they still walk and talk and breathe, have to live with what happens in their worlds, so what's the difference?
he's had 45 years of regret, is the thing. 45 years of steadily growing self-recrimination. such a long, long time alone with his demons, alone with his ghosts. alone. maybe he's not digging their bodies out of the ash this time, but it feels the same.
no, not the same.
grief was a fresh shock to the system back then, an unfamiliar beast. now it lives under his skin, inhabits him, thrums in synchrony with his every heartbeat. how many times can you grieve someone? ]
Ashes to ashes.
[ and yep he's going to be needing that bucket now, gene. whiskey and coffee are doing his stomach no favors. ]