thisavrou | text; + action options; (cw character death)

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text; + action options; (cw character death)

[locked to people who know Elena Fisher]

elena's dead

[....yeah that's all. Odds are good that Nate will not want to reply to questions, condolences or comments regarding the recent tragedy, though Chloe Frazer might. However, he can be found...]

wandering; Once the shock has passed—if it ever does—Nate wanders for hours. Fuck, maybe days, he doesn't know. He just doesn't want to go back to the house in Region 1 where she isn't.

Eventually he finds himself in a well-wooded park. For lack of anything else to do, he climbs a tree.

at home; When he finally does make it back, Nate parks his ass on the couch, where he'll be sleeping until—well, he can't count on there being an "until." Maybe he'll just live on the couch forever. Sorry, Pepper, Varric, etc.

at the ingress complex; Nate comes by the facility a couple of times, to ask for news or if they can guarantee that they'll be able to bring her back, because he knows that people have returned, and he knows that they don't always.

He walks away both times, unable to stand it if the answer is no.]

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[ She opens the door for him and leads him to a table. The sign says to wait to be seated, but she figures someone will notice them sooner or later. She waits for him to select a seat and sits down across from that spot. ]

All right.

[ She's observing him, watching for signs that he's in shock or some other dissociative state, but outwardly she just grabs the menu off the table card holder and peruses it. ]

You want water, when they come, or tea?

[Hawke watches his eyes and feels a pang a sympathy. Except it's one of those sorts of things you'd hope to never have to understand because no one should have to endure it. She scoops Tenzin up and tucks him against her chest, and then reaches to tug on his sleeve in such a gentle way that it doesn't even seem like something a wrecking ball like Hawke should be capable of.]

No, no. Over here.

[She tugs on his sleeve again indicating the opposite direction, to her and Varric's little nook in the house.]

[He sits down with a soft 'whump', choosing the closest seat because it's there. He doesn't give the menu a single glance.]

I don't really give a fuck.

[There's not malice in his voice. There's not anything, aside from a little weariness. He's just stating a fact that exists.]

[Nate's tense for a moment longer, and then he all but sags when he realizes what she means.

He doesn't need a real bed. He'd been sleeping fine out here, and he's spent nights in far worse places. But he moves all the same, shifting himself to get back on his feet after hours in the same place.]

Okay. Let's go.

[ With his boss basically MIA, Bull's been keeping busy with side jobs, things on the go. He keeps up his end of what the Commander wants of him just as well and just fine but there are some days here and there where he takes some time to himself, visits people he knows and hasn't seen in a while.

Such as today.

Today Bull is at the house. It isn't for any specific reason other than to see if his witty, stout friend is around for a few rounds of drinks and good banter. He really has no idea the dark cloud that hangs over the occupants.

Seems silly for someone his size to squish down a tiny doorbell under his thick finger.

Ring ring. ]

[Hawke lets go of his sleeve and yawns massively as she stands up and then groans, working out the kinks and soreness in her body from sleeping in such a weird position.

Then she begins the short, but somehow exhausting trek back to her part of the house, alternating between yawns and stifled sneezes. It would be comical if not for the somber mood. Her and Varric's part of the house is smaller but it's cozy and fits them just fine. It's like a little shared flat. When she opens the door quietly, the light falls onto a small living room with a television, some plants, and dog toys strewn all across the floor. There's a desk in the corner covered in papers, all hand-written in flowing ink. Varric's of course. Then there's a bedroom with two queen beds. One is again covered in papers but otherwise clean. The other is sort of a lived in dumpster fire that's charming in it's own way.

Varric doesn't seem to be in. The bedroom is quiet except for Kitty, who raises his head and wags his tail when Hawke enters from his spot on the bed. Then when he sees Nate, he hops off the bed and trots over, pushing his nose at Nate's hand for pets.

Hawke sets Tenzin down on her bed and then goes over to the dresser and just begins messing up things until she finds what she's looking for. She tosses it at Nate.]

Here. It's yours anyway. I suppose I can't keep it forever. Or else you'd just lord it over me at the most inopportune time.

[It's a t-shirt of his that he gave to Hawke months ago after she'd gotten sick on herself after drinking too much on a particularly bad night and then put her to bed. He did that... more than she'd like to admit. Maybe this is a sort of spin on returning the favor.]

[ She doesn't take offense. She makes up her mind what to order for the both of them and sets the menu down. ]

I'm not going to pretend this isn't a shitty situation. I'm not trying to, either. I just don't want you sick on top of it.

[ When the server arrives, asking for a drink order, Tex goes ahead and orders tea for two, two glasses of water, and two light pastries. ]

Thought that might convince you.

[Someone with good manners might have waited for Nate to move, or even given him his space. Varric simply sat at the far end of the couch. If the man was wise, he'd move his feet. If not, Varric had a warm, if bony, cushion.]

What do you want first, something familiar, or something adventurous.

[There was both a bottle of whiskey and a bottle of Dragon Piss now on Nate's lap, along with a number of other familiar and unfamiliar bottles. Whatever suited his tastes.]

Edited 2017-06-17 05:47 (UTC)

[She really is straining to hear him, but even if she doesn't catch all the words, he doesn't seem to be too thrilled climbing a tree. It makes Elizabeth question why someone would climb to a great height and not be at least slightly excited about it...]

Hey, you're not about to do something drastic, are you? [She calls up, eyeing him a little nervously now.] Because if you try something, I'll have to do something about it.

[Which, shockingly enough, she can. Elizabeth remembers her collapse, her inability to create and see tears in Rapture, and by all accounts that collapse should have been permanent. But somehow, somewhere along the way, she'd lost her pinky again. Which meant she could see-- almost everything. Some things were covered in haze, and she hasn't been able to walk through a tear. But objects? That's like riding a bicycle.]

[ Lately Daryl doesn't spend as much time out and about as he used to, between his own paranoid inclinations and the very real mistrust of the Savrou natives. If not for the weather and the damage it's done to their crops, he might well never set foot off the farm most days.

But there's stuff they need, which means he still ventures out into the other districts. And, well, he's still Daryl, which means he's avoiding as much civilization as he practically can.

So he's crossing through the park more to avoid running into anyone than to appreciate its natural beauty. The slight creak of tree limbs above and to his left freezes him for a moment, and then lead him to stalk slowly nearer, a large hunting knife in hand. His instincts here are pretty well honed-- but whatever he was expecting to find, Nate is not it. Relaxing minutely, he still doesn't sheathe the knife. ]

The hell?

[Dorian's not too fussed about it, the man just lost his wife, he's seen this before and last time he was young and stupid and he said things that young and stupid people said.

He wouldn't do that to Nate, though if he had to visit the man so that he could roll him over from time to time? Then he'd do it.]

Where can I find you?

[It doesn't get better. The more time goes by, the more Nate is able to swallow the screams that still come out, because if he starts he might never stop. But it doesn't hurt any less and he's no more able to do anything but exist than he was before.

He's like a ghost in his own home, drifting. When the doorbell rings, he stays where he is a few moments before sighing and getting up to drift toward the door. When he opens it and spots the Iron Bull, he doesn't really react.]

Yeah?

[It takes a second for him to realize what she means, and he lets out a huff of disbelieving laughter when he does.]

Ha. No. I just wanted to climb. [As much as he'd wanted to do anything. Which isn't very much.]

If I were going to off myself, I'd go somewhere higher.

[It didn't take much convincing. It would be harder to get him to go out and have a drink, but when it's brought right to him? Sure.

Nate shifts to give Varric room, less out of manners and more because it's uncomortable to stay horizontal with someone else here.]

Give me whatever's the strongest.

[The last time he'd dived into a bottle it had been a purposeful escape from the pain, a journey with no endpoint other than getting absolutely blitzed. He can't even summon the energy to form that sort of intention now, but god, does he like the idea.

[Nate winces at that. She cares about him, sure. Probably he should be glad for that. But the words echo in his ears and all he can think is they don't remotely describe what it's like to know that his wife was killed on that planet and he never knew until it was too late.

He stays quiet, elbows resting on the tabletop like he can't support himself on his own, until the waiter's gone.]

'Shitty' doesn't cover it.

[They've all got their own space. Not forbidden to the others, of course; he's been here a few times, putting Hawke to sleep or coming to drag her out of bed to go do something interesting in the morning. But they're more or less respectful-ish of each other's privacy, and it feels like an intrusion to come here now. Or maybe a privilege.

Kitty gets a half-hearted pat on the nose out of muscle memory, but nothing more than that. Nate drifts over to the edge of the bed and sits own with a soft thump. It's not exhaustion, just...he doesn't have energy for anything. The pain had overwhelmed him, and it's still there, lurking at the edge of his consciousness, but now he feels like a deflated balloon.

He catches the shirt. It's not one of the ones that Elena used to steal and sleep in, thank god. He stares at it for a moment, then looks back at Hawke.]

Thanks.

[For lack of anything else to do, he pulls his current shirt off over his head tosses it aside and starts to put the new one on. It's softer, cleaner. More comforting.]

[Why's he in the tree? Why not. It's above and away from people, but given that the tree is in a park, not very far away. But it was something to do with his hands and legs, physical and familiar.

But trees only grow so high, and when he reached a certain point he had to stop and sit there. That's what he's been doing, and he doesn't bother to move up or down when he sees Daryl with a knife.]

Hey.

[He'd spent a long time wandering, not going anywhere in particular but continually moving. And now he's just tired.]

don't think i'm leaving the house anytime soon

[Hawke nods and pulls off her own shirt and kicks off her pants and changes into a light tank top and shorts for sleeping. There's no feeling of awkwardness or being uncomfortable. This is Nate. He's safe. He doesn't judge or cut at her. And right now he needs help.

As Hawke changes, Kitty rests his head on Nate's knee sensing, as animals do, that he needs comfort and a friend. When Hawke climbs into the bed and lays down on her back. Kitty jumps in too, settling himself on the end of the bed, there to protect them both from what he can.

For a few moments, there's nothing but quiet. Just the sound of them both breathing, Nate with exhausted sighs, and Hawke with slightly stuffy inhales. Finally, she speaks her eyes on the ceiling and not him so he can have some privacy.]

After Mother died, I didn't go home either. Not for a month. I couldn't be in that empty house without her. I went from house to house, whomever would take me. Varric, often. Then I got pneumonia and was stuck in his suite for a few weeks. I don't really recommend that part though.

So you can stay here as long as you'd like.

[She doesn't remember much of it, honestly. And what she does remember is pretty shitty. The nasty chill of an early an early winter, waking up from nightmares, screaming until she coughed so hard she vomited and cracked a rib. It was painful and miserable and it was still a lot less of both than she deserved.]

[ Bull knew someone would've answered, there's so many people living in such a big house, someone is bound to be home. There are some he expects to answer the door and there are others he doesn't. Seeing Nate as the door's pulled open, Bull blinks down at him.

Woah, he doesn't look at all like he remembers. Frankly, the guy looks like shit. But who is he to judge? ]

Hey back to you. Varric around?

[ Ordinarily he'd have a nice, long bitching session about how they tore up half the planet looking for him, but... nah.

Tony wavers for a moment, like he's really not sure what to do with himself. Did he think very hard about what to do or say when they actually found Nate? No, not at all. It's not like he's good with these types of situations.

Hawke breaks the ice, though - and he follows suit without giving it too much thought, wordlessly dropping himself onto the couch on Nate's other side. ]

[ Okay, so, that's... fine. Nate doesn't look like he's particularly distressed about being in the tree, doesn't seem at a glance like anything chased him there, so....

So?

He glances around, sharp and quick, just to make sure there's nothing he's missing. But nothing presents itself. ]

You mean to be up there?

[ Y'know, just checking. ]

[There's nothing Tony and Hawke can do to make this better. Nothing will change the fact that Elena's gone, died on another world where he couldn't even try to protect her, and he has no idea what to do with himself for the next few hours or minutes, forget about days.

But if they can't make him feel better, the presence of a friend on each side makes him feel less alone. It's a small speck of light in overwhelming darkness. It cuts through the numbness.

Nate starts to shake. Just trembling at first, and then stronger, until he lets out a long, shaky breath and sort of collapses in on himself, hunched over his lap, tight fists on either side of his head.

No. No. No.]

[Hawke had been content to sit in silence and let Tenzin amble about and play in her lap. She also knew there was nothing that could be said to take the pain away and it was arrogant and cruel to pretend there was.

But then Nate hunches over and she glances over at him. She's been there. After her mother died she mostly just sat there with her face in her hands while people tried to get her to move or eat or do a thousand things she didn't want to do. Then Merrill, sweet Merrill, had simply reached out and taken Hawke's hands in her small delicate ones and held them until they stopped shaking.

Hawke reaches out and puts a hand on his arm then slowly moves down until she reaches his hand and slips her fingers between his so he can grip her hand tightly.

It's not small or delicate like Merrill's, her hands are rough and calloused but smaller than Nate's and easy to grip. That has to count for something, right?]

Dragon piss it is. [Shifting, Varric plucked a bottle from the hoard deposited on to Nate, one with dark glass and nothing more than a dragon and a... rather lovingly rendered dragon member etched into the glass. This was passed over to the man, while the dwarf settled for vodka.

At least one of them would (probably) keep their wits about them tonight. And it wasn't going to the man mourning.]

So, is this the part where you tell me how you're feeling, or am I going to have to wait until you're off your ass? Don't mind either way, really.

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