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Syd(ney) Barrett ([info]_donttouch) wrote,
@ 2017-04-06 19:48:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
[log 2] Syd/David

The days went by fast, too fast. But there were tactics to discuss and work to put in, all things that took up time. Sydney had put her two cents in, brash as it might have been in comparison to everyone else's thoughtful plans, and then took off. Now it was time for personal work of her own.

She had been thinking about it since their conversation, contemplating the logistics and possible horrible effects of what might happen were she wrong about this idea. It might even be worse than the first time she and David switched bodies; he was so much more powerful now. And while he knew it, was aware of it, she still didn't think that she herself was strong enough to keep everything in check if they did switch. And she didn't think her conscience could take another murder -- no matter how accidental it was. Especially not of these people. They had already seen enough loss. She had seen enough loss.

She often wondered whether David would have been able to suss out the Shadow King earlier, had she not accidentally killed Lenny and leave her to be a hallucination in his mind. Or would it have simply taken another form, another person to confuse him?

Enough of those thoughts, Sydney, she mentally chastised herself. If they could hold on to scarves together, then they could do this. Resolve found, she wound her way toward David's dorm before she lost her nerve. David wasn't there, at least she was pretty sure that he wasn't; it was odd, but she swore that she could sometimes feel him around. It was easy to find him, though whether that was part of some weird connection or by merely knowing him, Syd wasn't sure. It wasn't like she had that particular link with anyone else she had switched with. Perspective and empathy, sure. But an actual possible link? Maybe it was because she entered his headspace. It was a question she would have to ask the others, whether they had the same feeling.

Entering his room, she looked around and grabbed the closest piece of clothing that she could find, a jacket. The theft was quick, partially because that was how a theft should be and partially because she wanted to find out what would happen as soon as possible. Her fingers snuck out of their protective cover of long sleeves, gingerly touching the fabric of the jacket with eyes half squinted shut. Eyes still squinted, she threw the jacket on one shoulder then the other, and then looked around wide-eyed to see what had happened.

Those wide eyes looked down first thing, seeking out -- yup. Still had boobs. Releasing a sigh of relief, Syd cozied up in the jacket, zipping it up halfway. It was bigger than her normal size, which was nice. Safe. More room between others' skin and her own. And it smelled like him! Like a little kid, Sydney wiggled around in the fabric happily and then turned around to leave and go about her day.

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[info]xgene
2017-04-07 03:58 pm UTC (link)
Just because Syd had seen some of the worst in him didn't mean she needed to keep seeing it. David knew she could handle it, that much had been proven, but being able to handle it and actively wanting to know how deep the rabbit hole went were two very different things. Besides, David himself was still trying to process his dreams -- he remembered them often, they were always vivid, always alarming and troubling. It seemed that the removal of the psychic parasite in his brain hadn't changed that quality. Not once had he truly been able to understand them.

But he would keep trying, and if he wound up rambling an incoherent mess of jumbled junk and emotion to Syd in an attempt to explain? Well, at least he'd attempted.

Her response to teleportation had him smirking and shrugging. "That's how Amy and I got to our old house from that District 3 facility." A beat. "That's also how you got left alone in that memory box when Melanie and Ptonomy were rummaging around in my head." After going from the facility to that old, now abandoned house in the country, David was confident he could replicate it. At least with a person. The state of Cary's MRI machine... well, he'd be a little stressed at the time.

On the matter of old girlfriends his eyes went wide in a look of dramatic innocence. "Hey now, you're the last one to go talking to any of my exes, thank you very much." Another regret -- how much grief he'd dragged Philly through. Thank God she'd had the sense to get out while she still had a chance, before he hurt her any more than he already had.

"I've been spending my early mornings doing what any respectable person does," he began then, letting that comment linger in the air for a long moment. "Looking up sheet music to play on the piano. Plus the banjo, because now I'm curious." That had been an unexpected twist his own mind had thrown at him.

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[info]_donttouch
2017-04-07 05:05 pm UTC (link)
Syd watched him wide-eyed, recalling how she had been left alone and really only now understanding how it was that he and Amy got away. It hadn’t mattered at the time, they were safe and the cavalry had been on the way. But now, as she was able to really stop and think about it, things just made so much more sense. How did things that shouldn’t make sense at all end up doing just the opposite? There was the upcoming question of how exactly they’d be able to teleport. She suspected that he’d have to hold on to her, but how? Her scarf was in her pocket, along with an actual hairband, two staples that went with her wherever she went. She wondered if that would be enough. Or there was the jacket. The sleeves were long enough for him to grab on without touching her hand. Because switching mid-transport just gave Sydney heebie-jeebie thoughts of accidentally splicing them both in terrible manners.

That question would be asked in a second. Because she had the grace to look embarrassed when he mentioned Philly. “We needed information.” And she was curious about the ex. It had been her pressing Philly, even when Ptonomy was trying to end the conversation. She tried to wave it off, ignore it, but there were times that a more proverbial monster – a green-eyed type – visited Sydney. “She seemed nice.” After all, it was Philly who had tipped them off about Division 3 watching. And how Lenny wasn’t exactly what she seemed. Because Lenny was Benny. That was still a mystery to the blonde woman. Lenny was real, as real as she or David was. She saw her. In Clockworks before all of this had really started. She saw her, and she put her in the wall. So how had it been that Lenny took over Benny’s parts in memories? She wasn’t sure if she’d ever fully understand.

Pulled right out of too-deep and slightly morbid thoughts, David earned another look of amusement and amazement. “Very respectable things, yes. Your wrists might thank you too.” Her own pause. “And Kermit will be very proud.” She smirked, and then took a breath. Hey, Syd. How’d you spend your morning? Oh, you know. My boyfriend teleported us to Upstate New York. No big.

She took a drink of coffee and then placed it down, pulling the sleeves down over a hand and then offering him the floppy part. “Good thing I put on a jacket.”

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[info]xgene
2017-04-07 06:24 pm UTC (link)
Amy, Melanie, and Ptonomy had all been unwilling participants in his teleporting activities. The latter two, well, David himself hadn't been aware of what happened, leaving poor Syd behind in that weird glass box dedicated to all that 'memory work' stuff. At first David hadn't consciously done a damned thing, so he'd refused to believe it was him. Right up until he started truly accepting that yeah, okay, he could do some crazy shit with his mind. Maybe teleporting wasn't entirely otherwordly -- it was just another form of matter manipulation, moving matter from one place to another.

He hadn't been touching anyone either, proximity seemed to be enough in both instances, much like with the astral projection he'd done with Sydney, breaking more of Cary's equipment in the process. David suddenly realized just how much of Cary's things he'd broken. Yikes.

"It's okay," he said quickly in response to the explanation and look of embarrassment. "I get it, I do." It made sense to speak to her, to learn what they could. Dire circumstances and all that. "She was nice," David added softly, frowning a little at himself. "Nicer than I deserved." She'd helped stabilize him, but he'd always kept her at arm's length, never fully trusting her with any part of himself. She represented normality, the kind every doctor told him to strive for.

That was entirely where she and Syd differed. While Philly represented something he could never be, an act of perpetual pretending, Sydney represented everything he could be, everything he should be, and drove him to actually better himself rather than his ability to act and conform.

"Well, as soon as he's proud, my life will be complete." Kermit, the wise Frog Sage of Old. David would dedicate a song just to him.

Laughing softly at the offered sleeves, he took them up and tugged a little, swinging their arms playfully. "If only for the chill. I don't need contact to take us where we're going." And then, meeting her eyes earnestly, he added: "You're safe, I promise." He'd never let any harm come to her, certainly not due to his own powers. He'd rather unmake himself from reality.

Keeping hold of the sleeves for that extra anchor though, he wanted to give her something to keep steady as everything around them began to grow a little brighter. Brighter, smoother, then fuzzier, a blur overtaking every detail but the two of them until everything in sight was a complete white-out.

One second inside Summerland, deep within the heart of a forest, the next, out in the open in sunny Plattsburgh. The brightness gave way to a bright, cloudless sky that could only be seen in sparsely populated, low-industrial areas like this. It was the very same clarity that drew his father out to this part of the state to begin with. Often clear, no matter the time of day. Clear and quiet.

It was a stark contrast to the echoing of Summerland's kitchen dining area, the sudden openness expanding all sound. The slightest, ocean-tinted breeze rustled what remaining leaves there were upon the trees, most having fallen in the mid-autumn. It was an almost picturesque little place they'd arrived: a gravel path leading up to a large, looming gate, doors opening to the small cemetery within.

Letting the sleeves of Syd's new jacket go, David took it all in and drew a deep, calming breath. "Seven years," he murmured, kneeling down to pick up a few stones from the path. Once standing again, he toyed with them in his hand, dropping most until one remained in each palm. "Seven long-as-hell years since I was here last." It looked exactly the same. Well, maybe the tree they were next to was a little bigger than he recalled. Of course, he'd also been more than a little high last time -- a drug addled state being the only state he could bear being here in. Back when it housed only his mother's grave.

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[info]_donttouch
2017-04-07 07:30 pm UTC (link)
There was a particular look that she gave David when he mused that Philly was nicer than he deserved, head tilted down slightly to the side and eyes staring up at him like ‘don’t even start that.’ Whatever had happened, whatever mistakes were made, were just that. Mistakes. Just because you fucked up didn’t mean that you didn’t deserve kind people in your life. But she nodded as her arms shook with his swinging, smiling before staring at him again.

“I trust you.” And she did, which was definitely strange. Not because he was himself, but because she was herself. All these years refusing to trust others, or only allowing herself to trust them so far, it sometimes took her off guard when she did trust them. There was never a moment, never a memorable decision of ‘yes, this person is trustworthy,’ just Syd stuck her neck out for them more. Or tried harder. And then, when she least expected it, she meant it when she said that she trusted them. Syd looked almost surprised that she meant it so whole-heartedly, but it was what she said and she was sticking to it, dammit. A smile appeared when he kept hold of the sleeves, comforting, which was good because the whole process was a little discombobulating.

Discombobulating, but not unpleasant. She had expected to feel something, like a whoosh of air or a tingling as her particles came apart to reconnect again. Like that tv kid in Willy Wonka. But no, just the blurred surroundings and bright light. Her eyes ended up shut because of it, though it had helped to focus on his hands where her hands should have been, and when Syd opened them again, her mouth dropped ever so slightly. They were definitely not in Kansas anymore. She was still wrapping her mind around that, even as David released his hold and picked up the rocks. Seven years. Syd imagined that version of him, big-haired and wide-eyed, trying to deal with all of this and not knowing how. But then she took a breath as well and looked back at him with a small, encouraging smile and gentle reminder. I’m right here.

With that, she let him take point. For this, today, they had all the time in the world.

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[info]xgene
2017-04-07 08:09 pm UTC (link)
Despite the look, David knew it was true. Who he was now compared to who he was then? They were very different people. Before he got his act together, he hadn't been a good person back then. He treated everyone else as poorly as he treated himself. He stole, he took what he stole and sold it for drugs. He hurt people. He hadn't deserved anyone in his life anywhere near as good as Philly. How they ever managed to be together for as long as they were...

Especially when she didn't trust him. Not like Syd did. The strength in her statement brought a sense of peace and tranquility in David unlike anything he'd ever experienced before. To be trusted like that? It was an unearthly feeling, above and beyond anything any of them could do as mutants -- it was above their powers, above their capabilities -- it was vast and all-encompassing.

And David would never let it falter.

That confidence made it easy, a smooth and quick transition from there to here without even breaking a sweat. Her being there only continued to help, her comforting smile was all he needed to nod, accept that they were doing this, and lead the way.

David could remember that day with relative clarity, walking the cemetery path. He could practically see himself, a ghostly projection of his wild-haired, wild-eyed self appearing for just a few moments. He didn't bat an eye at it, merely followed the same path, walking slower than the fluttering vision did before it disappeared entirely as it turned left. North-facing cemetery. His mother had been buried to the left.

He remembered the plot next to her being empty.

A few steps more and there they were.

David stopped dead in his tracks, reading the messages on each, remembering the first, but never having seen the second, his eyes lingered on it.

SOPHIA L. HALLER
Loving wife and mother,
returned to the Earth.		 RICHARD J. HALLER
Devoted husband and father,
returned to the Stars.

Atop each headstone was a small stone, much like the two he carried now. David managed the smallest of smiles, albeit one that was barely there, a world of emotion rushing through him. Knowing that Amy had been here, had visited recently? It helped. It soothed the ache and sting just enough to allow him to set the stone in his left hand atop the other on his mother's tombstone, stacking them, and do the same on his father's.

Stepping back, he got to his knees just to... take it in.

"My father always said he and my mom were like the old Greek myth of Gaia and Ouranos," he explained, starting to reach out to touch over the letters underneath his father's name, but stopping short and dropping. "Their passions made them the Earth and the Sky." Primordial gods that birthed the Titans, which in turn birthed the Olympian gods everyone knew. It was their father's idea to etch that into her tombstone. David was glad Amy had been there to make sure their father's matched.

His eyes were burning. Anger and upset, the pain of loss, everything. God, everything was welling up, screaming at him. Pushing and shoving. Static electricity through his veins, screeching in his ears. Insects crawling on the back of his neck.

"I should've been here," he muttered darkly, voice low, his hands balling into fists. "Should've been here."

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[info]_donttouch
2017-04-07 11:21 pm UTC (link)
While she walked alongside him in thoughtful silence, Syd fell just stepped back when they reached the pair of tombstones. Her hands came out of the sleeves, neatly but awkwardly folding over one another in front as she watched David. She didn't understand loss or grief, not on this level. Her father left when she was four, still too young to truly apply any memories to the man. And her mother was still alive, though she hadn't seen the woman for a year..almost a year and a half now. She should probably give a call, let her mother know that she was still alive anyway. In the proverbial way, since Mama had no idea the shit she had been getting into.

The headstones were beautiful sentiments, but it was the story that got to her. They loved one another, all of them, and it just..hit Syd. She didn't realise that tears had appeared until they slipped down her cheek. "You should have been here." Syd agreed quietly, kneeling on the ground beside him. But something was...off. Something was very off. The air was electric, and smelled somehow coppery. She looked around, frowning and trying to figure out what was going on.

"David.." She trailed off, but was looking at him in concern now. "David." His name was gently repeated to try to get his attention, because she had a feeling that the uncanny atmosphere was somehow connected to his emotions.

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[info]xgene
2017-04-07 11:43 pm UTC (link)
He'd been trapped. Held against his will in that stupid hospital. Up until then, after the first month, David had been there willingly. He was a junkie, a schizophrenic nobody who caused more harm than good, one who tried to kill himself to get rid of the waste. Yeah, maybe he belonged in a goddamned loony bin. But he was still a person, he still should have had the chance to see his father, had a chance to go to his funeral. He should have been allowed to mourn rather than just having his dosages tripled so he felt nothing at all.

David remembered last year, how he'd lashed out at the doctors, lashed out at everyone who came near him. It'd taken six orderlies to pin him down, drug him up, and left him in isolation for however long it took for him to stop screaming. The disorientation, disjointed sensation. The leaps from despair to rage, the sound of Lenny banging on the locked door between them, practically ripping his own hair out.

Trapped. Unable to grief, only to scream and rip and tear at himself until more drugs were pumped into him. Trapped. Then nothing, no strength to move, no strength to scream. Trapped. Lost in his own, nonsensical thoughts, like dreams but worse -- dreams that made you physically sick.

The rocks atop the tombstones began to vibrate, the space around them beginning to streak, as if rain were pouring and slicing out the details in long, harsh lines, but the sky was still blue, still clear. David didn't hear Sydney at all, could barely recognize anything beyond his father's name, engraved and still-sharp, without over seven years of wear and tear on it from the elements. From the storms that would come from the ocean. From the salt in the air.

Salt and metallic. Streaking. Crackling. David pushed himself to his feet suddenly, hands wringing in his hair, pulling and tugging. A scream of frustration burst out as he stepped away from the graves. Eyes closed tight, he shook his head, kept pulling. Should've been here. He should've been here. Trapped. Physically. Locked in a room. Drugged. Trapped. Emotionally. Unable to mourn. Unable to grieve.

The details of the world washed away like paint on a canvas being drenched in water. Every color lost its hue, blending into something muddy and grey. David kept walking away from the grave, shook his head, lost in himself, unaware of anything around him. He kept walking, kept tugging at his hair, muttering to himself, words too fast to be coherent -- word salad.

And then a voice came through, clear as anything, sharp.

The words didn't make any sense, but their clarity snapped him to attention, hands dropping as the world came swiftly back into focus.

Hair a mess, eyes wild, he looked right to Sydney and then back in the direction of the voice. There were people gathered around his father's grave... his coffin. The voice, the words he was speaking... Hebrew. A rabbi. David's brows furrowed, shaking his head again. No, no, this couldn't be real. This had to be a delusion. It had to be. That was -- how could it -- that was his father's coffin, not buried yet. That was Amy, standing with Ben... people his father worked with, friends. All gathered around, all listening.

His dad's funeral. Robert Haller's funeral.

Eyes even wider, desperate, still burning as the tears threatened to fall, he looked to Syd, wordlessly imploring her to confirm --

Is this real?

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[info]_donttouch
2017-04-08 12:28 am UTC (link)
Now would have been a fantastic time to have the ability to touch. She wished there was a way that she could toss them both into the safe pockets of the Astral Plane, to hold on and let him rage with the feeling of physical -- metaphysical -- support. Sydney stood up, following quickly. "David!" She tried to get through, cut through the noise. David!

And then, for Sydney, the rest was silence. And as if she was staring at the world through a waterfall, hazy and blurred. She was submerged in water and staring at the world from underneath. And then, someone pulled her out.

Noise returned, but it was far more noise than it should have been. More people than she had seen when they first arrived -- though any more people than she and David were more people than originally observed. Staring at the crowd and frowning, she had a thought to go over there and give them a piece of her mind. In fact, she was starting to march over right then. Until she saw...Amy?

Her head whipped over to David, wide eyed as well, and mouthed precisely what she was thinking. What the hell just happened? Did they --

"David," she whispered, trying to sound calm as she came up to stand beside him. "Why are we at your father's..?" She couldn't finish it. They were at his father's funeral. A year ago. Hand went into her pocket, fishing out the scarf and already gripping tightly on her side.

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[info]xgene
2017-04-08 12:50 am UTC (link)
David's eyes swapped between Syd and the gathering multiple times. What the hell just happened? He didn't know. He didn't know. This couldn't be happening, couldn't be real. It was... some kind of projection. Maybe he'd just thrown them into the Astral Plane by accident and he was pretending this is what his father's funeral looked like. It was like Oliver said, you could make yourself a kingdom, make yourself anything at all, but it wasn't real.

And yet, wouldn't some part of his mind have to know Hebrew to make someone speak it, even in the Astral Plane? Apart from a few token phrases and words, David didn't speak a lick of it, and the rabbi was going full-force without stopping. It wasn't gibberish made up to sound like it, it was the real deal.

"We can't be," he whispered, shaking his head, eyes back on Syd, hand immediately going for the scarf for them to have some kind of connection. His instinct from there? Backing away. Tugging for her to follow, he made more distance, distance enough that no one would notice them outright. Especially not Amy. There was this sick feeling in his stomach that if she saw him... it'd be bad. Very bad.

The sky above was different, overcast. There was a more severe chill in the air and no leaves were left on any of the trees. It was the same place, but different. Everything just shifted enough to make his skin feel like it was crawling -- the charged feeling was gone, replaced instead with this sickening dread that he didn't belong here.

And the crowd? They were all...

"This is real," he muttered, horrified. "They're all real." He could hear their thoughts. All there, all a chaotic haze in a group, but there all the same. The horror only compounded in that moment as his eyes returned to Sydney once more. "This can't be a thing. Can it? Time travel? Really?" No. It couldn't. And yet, they were staring right at it, thrown right into the deep end of 'one year ago' like it was nothing. Like it was totally a thing that could happen!

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[info]_donttouch
2017-04-08 01:13 am UTC (link)
"Are we on the Astral Plane?" That was her next question, asked in a whisper that was spoken between grit teeth. It didn't occur to her that in order to so perfectly recreate the Hebrew that the Rabbi spoke, David would have to be fluent in it. Then again, it hadn't occurred to her that he might be fluent in it at all, having just learned that he was Jewish a few days ago.

She followed, head tilting even as she did. If he was moving away, hiding, that must have meant that he didn't think they were on the Plane. She looked around then, particularly up in the barren trees. The birds stopped. There were still birds just a few minutes ago, likely stopping for a break during their migratory pass. But there were no birds now.

"Impossible things happen every day." She said quietly, still looking up at the sky. Finally her head dropped level, bringing her gaze on him. "I think we're going to have to stop thinking impossible with you, dear." The smile was small and rueful, but there all the same. Her attention turned toward the gathered group, but then flickered back to David curiously.

"Do you want to go over there?"

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I
[info]xgene
2017-04-08 08:05 pm UTC (link)
It'd make more sense if they were on the Astral Plane. It'd make more sense if this was a delusion. David had been very accepting of the whole 'having powers' thing, considering years of so-called schizophrenia, along with the whole the pedestal Melanie seemed to place him on. Hearing the words 'you might be the most powerful mutant alive' was a lot to handle. Hell, even Syd saying that if he could learn to control his abilities he'd be a badass? Okay, fine. He could accept some of what they were saying considering what he'd done.

But time travel, time travel. That seemed... too much. How was it possible for anyone to have that kind of power? Forget the telepathy, the telekinesis -- time travel alone was a hell of a thing. If a guy like him could go back in time and punch Hitler in the face, throw him in a river with a concrete block on both feet? It was too much power.

It wasn't right.

Then again, it wasn't right that any mutation would force someone into total isolation because their power caused them to swap bodies with skin-on-skin, not to mention any other contact to feel like fire ants crawling on their skin. There it was -- that old anger, that old sense of fury and rage at any higher power.

It wasn't right.

And yet, here they were. It was real, Syd saw it too. She was right here with him, telling him to stop thinking about impossible. It was too much, this was too much power to trust to a guy like him.

But... this was where he'd been wanting to be, finally getting a chance to say goodbye. He'd seen Back to the Future though, time paradoxes had to be a thing. A solar-system collapsing thing. Which was a thought that gave him pause when Syd asked if he wanted to go over there. At first he looked at her, ready to protest. Amy and Ben both knew he was in Clockworks right now, seeing him here would screw that up, it'd mess with time. He couldn't.

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II
[info]xgene
2017-04-08 08:06 pm UTC (link)
But before he could stop himself, David was looking back at the gathering. Looking back and walking towards them. Maybe if he was quiet, as long as they didn't see him. Stay around the outskirts, stay quiet. Look like any other guy, look like he belonged, then maybe they'd never know he was here.

At the fringes of the group, he could hear the rabbi begin to speak in English -- reading off a list of his father's accomplishments, asking those in the group to share their stories of Robert Haller, to celebrate his life. It was Amy who spoke first, her voice high-pitched and strained. She spoke of how optimistic their father was, his energy always a bright beacon, something almost infectious about it. She talked about how deeply he'd loved their mother, but that he'd never lost his ability to love or lost a single ounce of his brightness in continuing to be their father. When she mentioned David, she spoke of how he wanted to be here today, but couldn't, and swiftly quieted sharply cutting herself off as her eyes fell to the ground, Ben's arms wrapping around her.

To the right, a tall man spoke, someone David had seen a few times, a co-worker, someone who worked at an observatory. "I remember, decades ago now," he began, voice even, "Robert referenced a conversation he'd had with his son during one of their outings to observe the stars." David stared at the man, still holding (white-knuckled) onto the fabric between himself and Syd, transfixed. "Something David had said, about how the stars spoke to him -- Robert had been so driven by the answer. I never pressed for details, but it always kept him going, kept him pushing for more answers, pressing for deeper research to unravel the mysteries of the sky."

The man shook his head, smiling fondly. "That one conversation is without a doubt the only reason any of us had our jobs for so long. Robert always pushed, was always... yeah, inspiring with that energy, that passion to know more. The world's a darker place without him."

A few others chimed in, offering words of agreement and other fond stories, happy memories. David had no idea when he'd started crying, tears falling freely as he watched and listened, stunned... and relieved. He was here. Like he always should have been.

And when the ceremony was over, his father's coffin lowered into the grave, people beginning to leave, none of them looked at Syd or David. Even Amy seemed to disregard them. A distinct hum in the air, like a moth's wings against glass, sounded when her eyes grazed over them, smoothly continuing without seeing them. David didn't notice, unable to take his eyes off the grave before him. As everyone else left, the grave to be filled in peace and solitude, he just kept staring.

"The smartest guy I've ever known," he started softly, barely managing to draw in a deep, shuddering breath. "And the only one who was never afraid of me, even at my worst." How anyone could've been so brave when dealing with a raving madman in front of them. "The world really is a darker place without him. Without both of them." His eyes glanced at his mother's grave. "People of quality." It's a wonder he hadn't figured out he was adopted all by himself.

"I miss them." God did he miss them. For all that they'd filled his dreams the last few nights, he still had trouble seeing their faces in them. Still had trouble recollecting anything good, only flashes of the hell he'd raised. Memories mixed with random garbage his subconscious decided to throw in, a subconscious filled to the brim with anger and self-loathing. Why was he still alive when two, far better people were in the ground?

It wasn't right.

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[info]_donttouch
2017-04-08 08:59 pm UTC (link)
She had half a mind to encourage him closer to the group, a clear and fairly sound reasoning already formed in her mind to give to Amy and anyone else who might have a question. Time paradoxes be damned. What was the worst that could happen? He was already born and grown, so no possible fade-aways. However, as it was, David moved closer to the outskirts of the group. And where he was comfortable, that was where they'd stay. She observed the crowd, solemn in her actions as they were in their own.

Syd listened, giving a gentle tug to her side from time to time in -- right now, what felt like -- a poor replacement for holding his hand or giving him a hug. She smiled at the stories, finding herself tearing up for a man she had never known, and even laughed quietly when it was revealed that David had been an inspiration to an incredibly inspirational man.

Attention returned to the crowd when they began to disperse, vigilant in protecting the grieving man beside her. Also, it would be more difficult to explain why they were off in the shadows instead of amongst the others. But no one saw them, even when she was sure that they would be caught by Amy. That was..odd. Which was beginning to become a daily vocabulary word. She turned toward David, mouth open to ask about it, but fell quiet when he spoke. "People of quality," she agreed, believing that his mother would have been just as lovely. "People of strength, who found inspiration in their son and gave strength to him as well." When he used it wasn't the point, the fact that he did at all was something to value.

"I know," she replied quietly. "But they're somewhere, and probably pretty damn happy that their son is getting better." No belief in a specific god, but energy didn't die. It just converted itself. That was science. So they were out there, somewhere, rooting for their pretty impossible kid.

Giving another light tug, she just stood there, letting him take in whatever it was that he needed to take in. It was a long time coming, and she didn't want to fuck it up.

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[info]xgene
2017-04-08 09:49 pm UTC (link)
The tugs did help -- they weren't hand-holding or hugs, no, but it was enough with Syd. It was what she needed to be comfortable and David was okay with that. Getting a reminder that she was there was more than enough, the reminder that he wasn't alone here, hit hard by emotions he'd been denied once and was suddenly allowed to feel in the moment, rather than weeks down the line and from a distance. From a place where he was still a little numb from the drugs, still isolated, still trapped.

He wasn't trapped anymore. Here he was free, free in a way that was bizarre and more than a little unbelievable, but for all that David didn't feel he deserved this kind of power, he'd gotten this one chance and he wasn't going to think light of it. It was the chance of a lifetime, a do-over when he'd been powerless to do a damned thing the first time around.

David just wished he'd been stronger sooner. Yeah, he was getting better, no thanks to Lenny. Which just made him all the more determined to make things right, to at least put some good in this world before he, too, inevitably left it.

"I'm going to rip the Shadow King to pieces," he muttered, sniffing and using the sleeve of his free arm to clear his face. "I'm going to find a way to separate him and Oliver, and I'm not going to even give it the luxury of going back to the void it came from." Whatever darkness, whatever dark corners of the universe that thing originated -- if it couldn't exist in this world without a host? He'd make it suffer without and bleed it dry, slicing it bit-by-bit until every second felt like every year it stole from his life. Every year he could have spent with his parents, with his sister.

For a moment, it occurred to him that if he could travel through time, he could do something about it sooner. He could prevent any of it from ever happening. But then, looking back to Sydney, David realized it would mean their paths would never cross if he did that.

Eyes turning to the sky he let out a long breath. "Okay. Okay." Now it was sinking in. This was his father's funeral. "A year in the past," he thought aloud, shaking his head. "And I have no idea how I did it." How the hell were they supposed to get back? Back to the time where he could murder the shit out of the Shadow King?

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[info]_donttouch
2017-04-09 12:41 am UTC (link)
"Yeah, you will." She agreed, staring at their surroundings thoughtfully. "But save a piece for me." Syd turned her head, fierce in the statement. The ultimate ass-kicking would obviously be by David, not only because of the strength of his abilities versus the strength of the Shadow King's, but also because it was his ass-kicking to do. He was the one who had the parasite tag along for his entire life, who had his entire existence fucked up by it.

But she still wanted to give it a what-for. For David. For herself. For everyone.

"Hypothetically," her mother hated that word, "you could go back and draw it out before it's even that strong.." How he could do that, she wasn't sure. Also, with something huge like that, there would be temporal consequences. And she might not ever meet him. She stared at him thoughtfully at that, and smiled a little sadly. But it was something she'd have to accept the possibility of.

"You were staring at the gravestones..and kept repeating how you should have been here." Pause. "There." Sydney frowned in thought. "You were..really focused. Maybe focus on the present? And the feelings it gives you?"

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I
[info]xgene
2017-04-09 12:57 pm UTC (link)
David couldn't even imagine letting Syd, or anyone (but especially Syd) near the Shadow King. Thinking realistically, with no other telepaths in their group, what could really be done outside of slow Oliver down and channel him into the right place at the right time? What could anyone, even all of Division 3, every Division the government had to offer, actually do?

When the time came to it, he'd deal. He'd find some way to keep them safe, to ensure both mind and body were kept safe. But he was going to have to be the one to do the ripping, the tearing. The complete and utter destruction of a creature that deserved a slow, agonizing death, but would likely get a quick one because David literally had no chill. Story of his goddamned life -- if he wasn't on a downer to force him to chill, he had none.

Having the idle thought of preventing all of this to begin with spoken aloud had him looking at Sydney with a grave seriousness in his expression. Hypothetically yes, it was possible considering this new power developing. In reality? "That's not an option." It was selfish, in a way, he knew it was. People had lost their lives in this crossfire, people had been hurt... but David would happily accept a fucked up life and perhaps a permanently messed up head if it meant staying right where he was: with her.

No, whatever time travel he was going to be doing? It was going forward. "Typical," he uttered with a groan. "Seems to be my thing, discovering abilities when I lose my cool." What was it Melanie had said? When he felt trapped? Cornered somehow? That was his trigger. Awesome. Mr. No-Chill flipped the world upside down when he freaked out. "Remind me to look into, I don't know, meditation or something because this is getting a little ridiculous."

At that he shook his head and took one last, long look at his parents' graves. He'd make it up to them -- for every bit of pain and anguish he put them through, David was determined to pay it back by fixing something in the world. Anything and everything he could do, he would. No wallowing, no excuses.

"Fingers crossed," he said softly, eyes returning to Syd with a small smile on his face. "I'm sorry ahead of time." Because unlike teleporting them to upstate New York? This time he literally had no idea what he was doing.

He had to try though -- they couldn't stay here. So David closed his eyes, tried to concentrate. The present, how did it make him feel? Stressed. Worried. Paranoid. That niggling sensation that all this couldn't possibly be real, the terror of what was to come and everything that was at stake, the very real worry that people he cared about would be lost. Yeah, it made him stressed.

"Thanks, by the way," he offered as the world began to blur away again, ever detail shifting as if it were painted with watercolor paint. "For coming with me." It'd been a bit more of a journey than expected, but doing this alone? No thank you.

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II
[info]xgene
2017-04-09 12:57 pm UTC (link)
From watercolor to a monochrome Gaussian blur -- the world faded away before everything seemed to shudder. David's brow furrowed, his grip on the fabric between them tightened, his other hand balling into a fist. There was a hurricane of images in his head, pictures, frozen in time. Some he recognized, he tried to reach out to them, tried to grab the familiar, but like trying to grasp at photographs being thrown around by a hurricane, the first he was able to snatch was random, unfamiliar.

There was only a second's worth of dread before, like a crack of lightning, they were standing in a ruined building. The windows blown out, the damp of rain filtering in from a quiet, but persistent storm outside. A quick look around told them they were in the right place, Summerland, but that every other detail was wrong. This place was long abandoned, walls having been broken down... blood stains on the floor.

A sudden, sharp pressing on every corner of his mind swiftly assaulted David and he dropped the fabric with a cry, hands going to his head as his legs gave out from underneath him.

Eyes, peering, searching, sharp. Yellow and powerful, curious. He pushed back, his instinct to hide and run kicking in the same instinctual reaction as when Amy looked over them in the crowd at the funeral. The humming returned, stronger, more noticeable, and the eyes looked them over, disappearing to a low throb in the back of David's mind.

But it was still there. It was like holding a door against a consistently pushing set of hands. It was all he could do to keep equal pressure. "It's out there," he managed to say, eyes screwed shut as his head continued to pound. "It almost saw us, oh God, I can see it out there." Wherever there was. It felt like it was both thousands of miles away and breathing down his neck.

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[info]_donttouch
2017-04-09 02:02 pm UTC (link)
Half of her wanted to look at David with reproach; there were bigger things than just the two of them, a bigger world than them. And besides, in her heart of hearts, Syd believed in fate -- wanted to believe in fate? -- and thought that they'd manage to find each other again, no matter the odds. The other half of her however, the also-selfish half, practically beamed at the notion that she was that important. That the world could fuck off and they'd be alright as long as they had one another.

Being a secret romantic was sometimes difficult on one's conscience.

"We'll sign you up for some yoga," she replied drolly, though not unamused. It was rather true. David had a penchant for table-flipping the entire world when he was shoved into a corner. Not that there was anything actually wrong with that; fight or flight was a natural reaction to threatening situations, and what was the manifestation of mutant abilities but an extreme version of that reaction? Though, if your abilities come with an instruction manual, now's the time to read it. Sydney smirked before her mouth maneuvered into a return smile.

"Fingers crossed." It was agreed as she braced herself for the Monet-ifying of the world once more. The thanks, however, took her off guard, and caused a knee-jerk reaction of eye-rolling. "Like I would let you do this alone." Focusing on David, as not to get nauseous from the blur of the world, she tried to imagine what it looked like from his point of view. And there was that coppery smell again, electricity palpable, proverbial lightning ready to strike.

And then real lightning nearly did strike. Syd looked at the window, broken and letting the rain in. It hadn't been raining, or even that cloudy, when they left. Leveling her gaze, she found the familiar building that looked all too unfamiliar at the same time. "I think you missed--" No, no this was Summerland. But the abandoned building gave off a foreboding warning and told a story that Syd wasn't sure she wanted to know.

Looking over sharply at David, she knelt beside him -- and could have sworn that she saw something out of the corner of her eye, something ancient and powerful. Yellow. No, that was impossible.

Impossible things are happening every day.

Her fears were confirmed though, and she steeled herself for whatever came next. "We need to figure out where we are." She paused, "When we are." And what the fuck happened. Because this was definitely not how they left Summerland. "Are you okay to move?" Okay was such a subjective word. But she was going to need David to be okay enough to get them out of there. And soon, from the look of it.

Standing up again, Syd looked around -- really looked around. "Do you believe that time is fixed?" God, she hoped not.

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[info]xgene
2017-04-09 02:20 pm UTC (link)
David would love an instruction manual. He'd also love to believe in fate. He'd love to have some guidance on all this, as well as have some kind of guarantee that if he did go back in time, destroy the Shadow King right from the get go, that everything would turn out all right. What if he still fell down the wrong roads? But this time, Lenny wasn't there to keep him alive long enough to get checked into a mental hospital? Because honestly... that was the only reason his suicide attempt hadn't worked. Lenny, the Shadow King -- it needed him alive.

What then? The world might be safer, as would Sydney, but that would be it. He'd never know. Or he'd return, out of time, and no one would know him. He'd be a dead man walking and then there'd really be no point in staying alive.

Assurances would be incredible, but due to the lack of them, David was just going to keep rolling with his gut reaction, and his gut reaction was saying that they'd just have to figure it out with the situation they had now and roll with the punches. Things could have wound up a lot worse, the risk outweighed the benefit. It was about as logical a thought as he could manage, being the least logical person in the world.

It was all shoved to the corner anyway in the face of the peering eyes, the resounding pressure, the push-pull of power. David could match it, but only just -- Syd's words sounding somewhere distant, like she was on the other end of a bad phone connection. Tinny and sharp. God it hurt, it made his chest tighten and ache, made his head feel like fried eggs this time, rather than scrambled.

Hands still on either side of his head, eyes still tightly closed, he groaned and motioned a very firm no. He wasn't okay in general, certainly not okay to move. It felt like all strength had been robbed from his body, everything poured into this sudden fight in his mind. "It can't see us, not if I keep fighting it," he tried to explain, knowing Syd wouldn't be able to see anything. Couldn't she hear it? The humming? The moths wings against the glass? It was all he could do to keep them beating.

"I don't know," he replied, slow and cautious, forcing his eyes open to take everything in as best he could without losing his concentration. The place looked like it'd been abused by the elements for years. Wear and tear from nature reclaiming the place as its own. It wasn't right -- whenever they were, he knew it wasn't right. It felt completely unfamiliar, unlike the past had been. "Think I pushed us too far."

David cut himself off, eyes closing again as another rush of pain suffused him. "Something bad happened, try the bunker under the compound. Maybe, maybe someone's there." He didn't know. This place looked long abandoned, but he'd seen how deep the concrete seemed to go beneath the surface -- if there was a place to hide, it'd be there, and they could really use a friendly face right about then to explain what the hell had happened.

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[info]_donttouch
2017-04-09 04:11 pm UTC (link)
Idly, there was an absent thought about her trying some sort of yoga crap too, if only to know of some exercises to help him go through and steady his mind. She should have paid more attention to Melanie. Would have, could have, should have.

For Sydney, it was all fringes, periphery, as it had been for David himself before he knew the battle he had to face. The shadows that were only seen when you weren't looking at all, noises that could or could not be there. Paranoia at its best. But she believed him when he said that it was circling them, a vulture watching for its dead or dying prey, and that he was trying to keep it at bay.

"Right." He was right, of course. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. She studied the blood splatters on the floor. Had they been ambushed? Had anyone survived? Pressing her lips together, she looked around to see if there was anything available to at least make him comfortable while she scoped things out. Unfortunately, there was nothing specific around. Think, Sydney. She reached in her back pocket, taking out her gloves and quickly placing them on.

Kneeling in front of him, she reached over and took his face gently within covered hands. "Stay here. Stay safe. I'll come back with what I've found."

After confirmation from David, she smiled a little and released her grasp, standing up straight. And then the blonde was quickly and quietly making her way to the bunker. As she did, she kept looking around, eyeing the rooms in attempt to figure out what happened. Broken furniture and more blood, signs of skirmishes everywhere, but nothing to give a more clear picture. She had heard of someone having the ability to know what happened in a place simply by touching an item. How helpful would that be right now?

Would the elevator even work to go down to the bunker? She had to try. Upon reaching it, she saw that the door was open, but there was no noise. No Oliver to offer welcome inside and ask where they were going. Well, this was ominous. Cautiously stepping inside, she pressed the button to see what happened. It worked, miraculously. And was rather disconcerting.

More disconcerting was when she stepped out, all nerves and energy, ready for a fight and dreading it at the same time. Whoever, whatever, did this, would not be easy to take down.

Turning the corner, she saw the flash of somebody, a body. Muscles tensed, she followed silently, planning to attack from behind when given the opening.

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[info]xgene
2017-04-09 04:17 pm UTC (link)
The touch was unexpected, gloves or not though,it helped center David just enough to open his eyes again and offer Sydney a nod, plus a warning of her own. Be careful. He could make sure she wasn't found, that connection between them more than enough to ensure he could do that much -- but otherwise she was on her own. She had, of course, proven herself more than capable of staying safe, protecting herself and others when he'd been more than useless... this was an extreme situation though, and the fear was both striking and crippling.

Moving was simply out of the question though, doing anything but fighting this, fighting it, wasn't happening.

And so Syd was on her own, in a building that had obviously taken its fair share of abuse. Like an animal degrading to the elements, the walls having crumbled leaving the metal-bone structure open and bare indicated the wear and tear. None had come to clean anything up, save for a small indication, a blood trail of a body being dragged to a corner where only ash and black marks on the wall remained.

The elevator itself looked equally as dilapidated. Run down in a way that elevators left alone from the 20's might be, and just as loud when brought to life with the simple touch of a button. But it worked -- a red light in a corner turning green after a pause of exactly four seconds. The lurching, rusted groan of wires and cogs sounded and took Syd lower, deep, deep underground, that small green light the only one that remained once the bunker floor was reached. Still no voice echoed from the speaker, which looked to be unaffected... but silent nonetheless.

In the lower level, there was only a dim, orange light -- steady and unflickering, it painted the barren hallways in a grim manner. The clang of the elevator's doors continued to echo in every direction for several long, uneasy seconds. Then a form moving away, a little hurried -- nervous.

Only to be interrupted by a great, powerful cry sounding to Syd's right as she was body-checked into the wall, the full-weight of another pushing her to the hard concrete and down to the ground before stepping away. Bat in hand, wrapped in barbed wire, a blue light blinking furiously from a small device attached to a low-hanging belt, and long black hair flowing around an angry face -- Kerry's face. Older, even more severe than before.

"Who are you?!" She demanded, hands wringing around the base of the bat, practically itching to swing. Her eyes were dark, threatening. There was no denying the face in front of her, but who was really wearing it? That's all she needed to know before she destroyed it, the mockery, the cruel joke of whoever the hell this was.

The retreating form swiftly ran back, Cary's own voice calling out, "Kerry! Kerry stop!" Kerry, obviously conflicted, didn't draw away, but her white-knuckled grip eased somewhat. Drawing closer, into the somewhat-better light, he looked down at Syd, also older, a scar drawn from his forehead across his nose and carving deep into his cheek. "You know I programmed that elevator to only accept six genetic structures to activate," he offered to try and calm the younger woman down -- who still didn't seem convinced.

Cary, frowning deeply as he glanced Kerry's way, returned his eyes to the blonde woman on the ground. "What year is it?" He had a hunch, it was a stretch, but it was worth a shot.

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