okteiviakom | The Cape Rouge, Port of Fandom, Sunday Evening

Entry tags:

The Cape Rouge, Port of Fandom, Sunday Evening

Octavia was still planning to try sailing to Haven. She was just doing it concurrently with trying to figure out how all the places she'd been on the Ground fit on what the east coast looked in this time. The table she was sitting at in the galley was a mess of charts and notes, and in the middle of it all, there was a hand-drawn map. Octavia had sketched out the coastline, and had spent most of the day marking down both the present-day names she could find on her map app as well as the approximate locations of places from the Ground.

It was getting late, but she was still working on it. Right now, she was hard at work trying to figure out whether it could really be as simple as this time's Annapolis turning into Polis by her time.

... Okay, right now, she was kind of slumped over the table, her head cushioned on one arm.

Just resting her eyes, just for a little bit.

[ooc: For that guy that's returning. The tall one.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All

Duke was still too sore to actually run from the Portalocity office to the port, but that was the only thing that stopped him. He paused on the deck of his boat -- his real boat -- to just breathe and feel the faint sway of her beneath his feet, then slipped through the hatch into the galley.

And stopped.

She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

Octavia must have been more tired than she'd thought. She heard something when he was coming in, but it took a while to really register. He was already standing there when her eyes blinked open.

And then really opened as she startled more upright in her seat.

"Duke."

Duke smiled. "Honey," he said softly. "I'm home."

Octavia scrambled out of her seat and rushed to him, with every intention of tackling him into a tight embrace and not letting go any time soon.

"Duke."

He wasn't allowed to be a dream. He was aware of that, right? She would scream if he turned out not to actually be here.

Good thing he was entirely real. Solid, and wrapping his arms around her just as tight.

He opened his mouth to say something else, but all that came out was a gasp. He was alive. He was home.

He buried his face in her hair and shook and shook and shook>

That wasn't a good sign. The possibilities of what could have happened to him while he'd been gone squeezed at Octavia's heart. She wanted to pull back enough to look at his face, but also didn't want to let go for even a fraction.

So, she didn't. Just held him as tight as she dared, her face pressed against his chest.

"Monin hou, flapkrasha."

Apparently she could say it when it wasn't for her.

Her head hit just where her locket rested. Where it had been since he'd found it at the bottom of his bag, save a few hours after the paramedics had had to take it off him.

There was gray streaking his temples, and a bandage on the inside of his elbow from the IV. His back and chest were bruised from Nathan's CPR attempt on the stairs to the lighthouse, and they ached fiercely in her grip, but he didn't care. All he'd wanted in the last month was to be held by her; she could crush the life right back out of him, and he wouldn't care.

He locked his knees to keep from just collapsing onto her, but otherwise just. Let. Go.

Octavia could feel something digging into the side of her head, but could not bring herself to care. The discomfort was nothing compared to this past week.

She just held him, muttering small, soothing things in Trig.

Eventually, slowly, Duke pulled himself back together again. He lifted his head so that his cheek rested against her hair, instead of his entire face, but he didn't let go.

"I wasn't sure I'd ever see you again."

For most of the last couple days, he'd been sure he wouldn't.

Until now, Octavia's voice had sounded remarkably steady.

Not so much, anymore. She had to swallow just to get any words out at all. And once she did, they were slow and careful.

"How long?"

"About a month," Duke said. He lifted his head again, pulling back far enough to look at her. To drink her in. "Would've been back hours ago. The instant I could. Gloria made me finish my IV."

A month.

Octavia wanted to think that wasn't so bad. She had seven months to her name that would've made for a good case for a month being basically nothing. But, she remembered what her first month back on the Ground had been like.

And, hell, she remembered what just a weekend in Haven could be like.

She looked up at him, and something in her expression immediately crumbled a little. One of her hands came up, slowly, and ended up hovering uncertainly by his temple. Her eyes flicked from his face to her hand and back.

"Your IV?" she asked. "For what?"

"Trouble tried to kill me," Duke said, his tone not anywhere near as blase as he wanted it to be. "I, uh. Jean. Was born."

Did she even remember Jean?

A moment ago, Octavia probably wouldn't have recalled the name, no. (And would have felt a crushing guilt about that, because no matter how much she'd blocked out thinking about any of their futures, she'd never forgotten Vanessa's.) Now, she took several seconds to search his face, confused, looking for something to remind her.

And then it came to her. Her lips formed a silent little 'o'.

"Jean? From --"

She didn't know how to end that sentence.

Duke nodded faintly. "Sweet. Adopted to Nebraska." He shut his eyes. "Deadly."

Octavia was staring up at him, trying to put this together. It didn't make any sense.

It made her uncomfortable, the way it didn't make any sense.

"Duke," she said, her tone very careful, somehow. "What happened?"

Duke's chest trembled again. His answer was so quiet, she probably wouldn't have heard it if she weren't pressed up against him. "I didn't mean to."

Octavia's brow was knitting together, but mostly out of concern. It hurt to see him like this, to hear him sound like that.

"Duke, I don't understand."

This weekend had been a lot. On top of a month that wasn't exactly easy. Making sense was a big ask.

But he did his best. He took a long breath and looked at the ceiling.

"She -- showed up on Friday. Jean's mom. I didn't want to -- I wouldn't have -- I couldn't stop. She wanted me, and I couldn't say no." He laughed at himself, though it wasn't even a little bit funny. "That's not a line, she did something to my head. I literally couldn't."

Octavia had heard clearer explanations in her time. That frown was getting pretty deep - but she was holding him just as tightly as before.

"Like she drugged you?"

"Yeah," Duke said. "Or -- no -- I don't know. Like she hypnotized me. Like she was a predator and I was her prey." He raised a hand to his temple. He'd seen the streaks. Had wondered if they'd fade.

Was kind of hoping they wouldn't. It felt right, that this should mark him.

"She sucked the life out of me. To make Jean. Nathan had to give me CPR."

Yeah, Octavia was back to staring at him.

She could feel the familiar twisting of guilt begin taking hold inside her. I should've gone with him.

"I thought -- that was it." His voice had gone tight. "And all I wanted was you."

Octavia's hand came up - landing first on his shoulder, then sliding up to his neck, still skittish about getting anywhere near his face without warning.

She tried to pull him down to her, forehead to forehead.

Her voice broke two words in. "I'm so sorry."

"No." Duke shook his head against hers. "No, I am. I shouldn't have stayed. I should have caught my first portal. I shouldn't -- I should never have gone back there."

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject