At Milliways, recovering

[nomorekaraoke]

A new day, a new shot at life, another day of taking it easy and letting himself heal, of taking 'proper' care of himself. Doctor's orders include: No excessive drinking. Excessive sugar intake. Plenty of rest.

So, that's what Lorne's been keeping busy with. It beats thinking about Emma-Beth back home sweet Earth. So, nursing a big cup of thai chicken soup (sweet and savory), Lorne is carefully readjusting to life without his arm caught in a metaphorical noose.

Comments

[nomorekaraoke]

"Thanks, doll. Let's say I owe you one."

Mission most definitely accomplished, Lorne relaxes where he sits, shoulders slumping and elbows sliding just slightly further onto the bartop. He hasn't felt this mellow in weeks. It's a funny feeling.

"Did you dress up as anyone? In honor of Episode Three?"

He's got to ask. He just can't not ask, he's too nosy.

[stilljustandrew]

"I was gonna," he says, a little wistfully, "only then work kind of got really busy and I didn't get the chance to get a costume, so I just brought my lightsaber."

Beat.

"Also it's ... kind of a little weird to dress up as somebody once you've met them."

[nomorekaraoke]

A veritable current of excitement buzzes through the green guy, and he gawks. "Who? Oh, Jiminy Cricket, you gotta tell me or I'm gonna combust with curiosity!"

Funny, isn't it, how just about anything can be used as an expletive in Lorne's Big Book of Vocab.

[stilljustandrew]

"I met a few of them. Anakin first ... he came here after his death. He was a friend."

His gaze has gone a little distant, looking through the bartop to an earlier time.

"Obi-Wan, a couple of times. Princess Leia ... I met Luke in passing, but not really to speak to."

[nomorekaraoke]

"Wow... I don't even know where to start." He's slightly slack jawed, mind you, which might be a good place for it. Presto; picking jaw off bartop, closing mouth. Ahem.

"Were they anything like you-know-where-and-what?"

Calling people fictional in a place where they clearly exist is just so tacky.

[stilljustandrew]

"They were exactly like. Exactly. And ... this was before I learned better than to tell people I knew their stories when we'd just met." He makes a rueful face. "It didn't work out so bad with them, though. There was ... this one time, Valentine Wiggin did a Speaking for Anakin. A Speaking for the Dead? You know about how those work?"

[nomorekaraoke]

"I haven't got a clue, sweetheart, but I'm all ears."

Not even he can keep up with all the books and movies and TV shows in the world. But hush! It's a secret!

[stilljustandrew]

"It's kind of a memorial service. After somebody's death, the Speaker will learn all they can about the dead person, and then stand up in front of everybody and tell their life. No whitewashing, no sugarcoating, the whole thing. And Valentine did one for Anakin. Which was a little weird, because the person isn't usually there to hear their life told, but ... he wanted to. And she told it all, start to finish."

Pause. "And Luke and Leia were both there for it. It was ... pretty heavy for them."

[nomorekaraoke]

"Oh." He can't say he didn't have a feeling what it would entail, but it still leaves him touched. "Oh, poor darlings."

[stilljustandrew]

"Yeah. And ... Anakin was hoping he could reconcile with Leia after that. I think in the end they did find some common ground."

A sigh, and a crooked, reminiscent smile. "Redemption is hard."

[nomorekaraoke]

"Yeah..."



Redemption. The very word calls for a deep swig of hot and sweet inna bowl. "Yeah, it is."

[stilljustandrew]

"There were a bunch of us, back then," he says, with that distant look again. "Anakin and Peter Pettigrew and Tom Riddle and a few others ... kind of a support group, in a weird way."

He takes a deep drink of his spiked coffee.

[nomorekaraoke]

"That sounds--" Not nice, definitely not nice, the very opposite of nice. He makes a scrunchy face at the idea. "Mind numbingly awkward."

[stilljustandrew]

"Then I'm not telling it right." He puts down the coffee and rests his chin on one hand. "I mean – the whole situation was awkward sometimes. A lot of the time. But ... situations like that, it helps just to know there's someone else there who gets it, you know?"

[nomorekaraoke]

He shrugs, deciding the smartest thing to do is just to agree and move on. But just seconds later, he shrugs again. "I really don't, actually..."

[stilljustandrew]

Andrew glances back at him. "You don't?"

[nomorekaraoke]

It's Lorne's turn to keep his eyes trained on his approximation of a drink, what little there is left of it. He shakes his head.


What else is there to say? What else is there to do?

[stilljustandrew]

"That particular situation, you mean, or knowing that someone gets whatever situation you happen to be in?"

[nomorekaraoke]

"I don't know." He sighs, and he doesn't even try to cover it up, noting dryly to himself that he's one big roller coaster ride lately. Up and down and looping. Over and over and over...

"Story of my life, I guess. No one knows, and as far as I know, no one really wants to."

He looks up, smiling (and he can feel how fake it is, so fake it's cracking like a slab of mud on a hot summer's day). "It is what it is, right?"

[stilljustandrew]

"Everything always is what it is," he agrees steadily. "But everything changes."

[nomorekaraoke]

"Yeah. Even if you're not ready for it."

He's been procrastinating on one thing in particular for too long; on a small collection of copied parchments and a small bone vial containing the most precious thing in the world, and he thinks maybe he should stop stalling. Maybe he should stop being afraid and let things change... If they're meant to, he doesn't have the right to stand in the way.

"I'm not ready for change. Old demons and new tricks, you know."

[stilljustandrew]

"You're not old," he says, sounding amusedly indignant.

[nomorekaraoke]

"I feel old." A hint of his earlier mirth shines through his voice, and he gestures at the general vicinity of his forehead. "Just look at my frown lines!"

[stilljustandrew]

Andrew snorts mildly, and takes another drink of his coffee.

[nomorekaraoke]

It's the desired effect, and that's got to be enough. Because, like they say, enough is enough, and he's had more than enough of being social for tonight. Today. What ever time of day or night this is.

"I'd better get back to bed. Doc's orders, I need to get plenty R&R if I ever want to get on top of things again. You don't take a boot to the heart like that and just brush it off, not even if you're Pylean. Or so she says."