(no subject)

[inthetapestry]

Dave knows by now the way that Kim likes her coffee - strong and black, staple of med students everywhere - and he's got it boiling as he waits for her to show up at the apartment.

The cautious way she sounded on the phone, he thinks it might come in handy.

Comments

[bannion_sight]

"Neither am I, right now," Kim says, ruefully. "I wish I was."

[inthetapestry]

"Guess you've got something to tell, at least."

[bannion_sight]

"I guess I do."

Kim looks down at her coffee, unable to meet his eyes.

"I just don't know how to say it."

[inthetapestry]

Dave looks at her.

"I get enough fine print and subtext at the office, Kim. Just lay it out for me."

[bannion_sight]

"I'm, um."

She takes a breath and lets it out slowly, then looks up at him.

"I'm leaving."

[inthetapestry]

Dave's hands, wrapped around his mug, tighten reflexively. He blinks.

"Leaving?"

[bannion_sight]

Kim nods.

"Moving. To England."

[inthetapestry]

"- did you see something?"

Dave's associations with England are - specific.

He leans forward over his mug, brows knit together, and says, more slowly, "Are you going back?"

[bannion_sight]

"Not -- well."

Her words are slow and haltingly uncertain, but there's a soft weariness underlying them.

"Not the way you mean, no. I'm not going back to Fionavar, Dave; I don't think I would, even if I could."

I don't think I would, anyway.

"But I can't -- it's not the same here as it was before, not for me. I don't... I don't fit any more."

[inthetapestry]

- oh.


Dave stifles his first response, which is that of course she doesn't. (Neither of them do. Does she think she's the only one?)

"So you're . . . moving to England. To get away from here."

He's trying to make it fit. Put it together in his head.

Why should there be easier than here, particularly?

[bannion_sight]

"It's not that-- I don't want to get away from anything, Dave."

There's anguish in Kim's voice now.

"I'm going to Glastonbury. It's -- it's as close as I can think of, as close as I can find, to being like -- like somewhere that --"

She looks down at her hands.

"-- well. You know, I think. Don't you?"

[inthetapestry]

"Maybe," Dave says. More than a little reluctant. "I don't know. It's not -

"Shit. It's just - I don't think there's a somewhere that brings it close. You know?"

He doesn't flinch, as he looks at her and says, "Just a someone."

[bannion_sight]

Her head snaps up, and she stares at him, wide-eyed.

[inthetapestry]

"I wasn't -"

Dave speaks slowly, thoughtfully, chewing over each word.

"I didn't change the same way as the rest of you all did. I changed. Different ways. Didn't feel the distance the rest of you did. But I left part of me behind there, like you did, and took things back with me I can't tell anyone about. Can't show anyone. You're the only person who -

[bannion_sight]

"Dave, I didn't mean that you--"

There's distress in the clear gray eyes, distress in her voice.

"-- that you didn't, that you weren't--"

[inthetapestry]

"I know."

Dave holds up a hand. "I'm not trying to make this about me. Just mean that - well."

He shrugs, more awkward than ever.

"You can't talk to Glastonbury Tor. Or you can, but there's no one there anymore to listen."

[bannion_sight]

"... no. I guess there's not, is there?"

No one but ghosts, and memories, and memories of ghosts.

[inthetapestry]

A bad attempt at a joke: "Not unless I really missed something."

(It's possible! There was a lot to assimilate, there at the end.)

[bannion_sight]

She smiles, a little wryly.

"I don't think you miss anything, when it comes right down to it. In a way, you always were the most grounded of us."

[inthetapestry]

"I don't think," Dave says doubtfully, remembering his angry and disconnected pre-Fionavar self, and then stops and thinks about the rest of them, and laughs, suddenly.

Brilliant, all the others were, each and every one of them in their own ways. Grounded . . .?

"Well, uh, maybe if I'd had more competition -"

[bannion_sight]

"-- you'd still have won?"

Kim pushes a lock of white hair back from her face (rather ineffectively, as it falls forward again not three seconds later) and grins impishly at him.

"I don't think there's anything you couldn't tackle. Literally."

[inthetapestry]

Dave resists the urge to push it back again.

"Believe it or not," he says, deadpan, "there are one or two things that doesn't solve."

[bannion_sight]

She gasps in mock horror.

"You're kidding, right?"

[inthetapestry]

Dave breaks into a grin.

"Yeah, actually. The opposing counsel have started bringing football pads."

[bannion_sight]

Delighted laughter peals out.

"Now all you need is are cheerleaders."