[ She's approaching him, and he doesn't know what to do. The thought of going back to that, to that dark abyss, that hateful feeling, it terrifies him.
Despite how stupidly self-sacrificial he can be, Alex doesn't want to die. ]
I couldn't help anyone- I couldn't- they all died, and- and then, whatever I did, everyone kept- I couldn't stop them from dying, a-and then I left her alone, 'cause I- there's- there's nothing else I can do, if I d- die again-
[ It's stammers, broken sentences, and those hand tremors, the ones Mia would've seen when he freaked out about the landing, they start to return. He remembers they're underwater. His brain can't reason that there's something special and magical going on. What if he starts drowning? Of all the ways he's almost died, that- that was the worst one, helpless and the world going black, desperate for breath-
What if he dies? Why's he here? Why's he doing this to Mia, to another person, freaking the fuck out over something he can't control (because he can't control it)-
Alex gasps and when he doesn't feel his lungs catch fire his shoulders heave and sink. His eyes find hers, and all he feels is lost. ]
Mia watches him for a moment, a barrier of uncertainty between them as Alex's panic clouds the space. Her face does change, finally, though very subtly; the softening of her eyes, the ever-so-slight tilt up of her brows. She feels for him some fears that she didn't even think to feel for herself, and even though they edge at her mind from Alex's own panic, she's more concerned for him right now.
She bridges the space between them, grasps his wrist, takes his hand into hers and maintains that eye contact he's made. She doesn't try to stop his tremors or hold him still, just to link, just to connect.]
Then you've got to keep fighting for them, don't you? And for yourself.
You've got to believe this isn't the end. That it won't be the end.
[ There's a heavy lump in his throat, like cement in his shoes, weighing him down. Alex looks from her face to his hands, remembering every face he'd seen that day, on Volée Airlines Flight 180. ]
But I... Even if we win. It won't bring back everyone else. All the ones who...who died before.
[ So many people. So many people, every face etched into his memory, let alone the ones he "saved" and then- ]
[She aches for this boy. She holds onto his hand like a tether at sea. She doesn't know what his life was like before, but she's learning what he's like now; the evidence lain before her in Alex's panicking breaths when they landed in their pod, in his dedication to solving the crime at the inn, the way Alex's brain put together pieces that otherwise may have remained unconnected. She sees who Alex is now, shaking and struggling to breathe despite the magic making it possible.
She sees herself, years ago, watching Terry Fawles drink poison and bleed out on the stand despite her best efforts.]
Maybe you have. We all let people down, Alex.
But those failures... they don't cheapen our victories.
They don't make the lives we save less worth saving.
[ Tod. Terry. Ms. Lewton. Billy. Carter. George, Blake, Christa, Mr. Murnau, Kate Stephen Lisa Sally Dave Joey Brooke Derick the flight attendant who smiled at him the crying baby the man with Lou Gehrig's disease--
Every face. Every single person. All almost three-hundred people, piled up on his back, fingers curled around his neck. Every. One.
He winces and shuts his eyes tight. ]
I've only saved one. By dying. And the... The Hunger...
[Alex is so hurt, that pain spreads. Mia doesn't feel like she can truly motivate him, not the way her sister can, but she has to try- has to help him see that he just needs to believe. Mia moves her hands to Alex's shoulders, bracing him, trying to keep him steady, trying to ground him. She has no idea if anything she's saying is even working.]
And it isn't over. The Hunger doesn't have to win.
[ Something physical to keep him rooted there. He looks up, eyes finally focusing.
And, slowly, he nods. ]
She was. Is. She was worth everything. [ But the Hunger- no. His shoulders droop, as if he's going to collapse. There's a lot more give in this underwater world, though, so no, he doesn't. ]
I just- ...All I had...when I died...was that awful place. I don't...really know how much I can buy, that- that there's more.
There has to be more. And you have to believe in more. Your belief is stronger than death.
[Maybe it's because it was how she was taught, or maybe it's because of what Alex said earlier, but Mia starts to talk about death as though it's a separate entity, too.]
And death knows that. That's- that's why it tries to control you with fear.
[Alex might not know it, but these are all pieced-together answers from Mia reflecting on what she's learned about spirits and the afterlife as a channeler. A scared spirit has all the more chance of that spiritual torture after death, requiring all those rituals her family performed, anyway. And maybe that's not what Alex was going through, but it's all they have. It's the only shred of hope Mia has to offer him.]
[ That's...actually kind of nice, honestly. Most people don't talk about death like that. With It's will. More than anything else, that draws him in. His gaze blurs- can you cry underwater? Can people tell if you are?
He swallows a gasp and curls inward, just a little. ]
It's a fuck. [ Eloquence, gone. Roughly wiping his eyes. It's embarrassing, to cry in front of someone, especially an older woman. ] And I- fuck, I'm sorry it- ...it got you too.
[Well, if there was any chance of Alex not getting hugged, it's gone now. Mia puts her arms around that six-foot-tall boy and pulls him close to her, holding him tight.]
It's alright.
[She tells him, lifting a hand to pet Alex's hair.]
I told you-- it's not the end. [And she has to believe that. For herself, for Alex... For Maya and Phoenix, too.]
You and me are gonna kick death's ass.
[There, that was hip and cool with the teens, right]
[ It's awkward. He'd swapped bodies with this woman. He doesn't like people he knows to see him cry, let alone someone...like this. Someone grown and responsible.
But really, he's tired. And he doesn't want to pull away. He towers over her, which is weird, but then, they're underwater and he'd just witnessed the memory of her murder, so all of this was going to be weird.
He chokes a sob. Hates it. But, he leans into the comfort, almost laughing as she tries to be cool. Almost. ]
S- yeah. Sure.
[ He has to believe it. He has to. It's like what Will told him, if he can't believe it...then he's just giving up before even trying. ]
[Even if it weren't mentally awkward it sure would be physically-- but Mia doesn't act like it's awkward. She holds him with all the strength of a big sister, an anchor in the water.]
[ It's the twelfth of October. Most of the injured and back on the base, recovering as best they can. Maya's since been discharged, but his body has always been a hot mess that refuses to heal right. He's not as spaced out as before, actually recognizing Where He Is now, but still out of it enough to mean everyone's on his case about resting. So, like anyone else, trapped in a hospital at 3 am, starting to go stir crazy, you... well. Try and find things to do. Realize there's nothing. Then you start running over the things you should have been doing, such as listening to the pile of new messages you have, but couldn't listen to in front of Maya or Lion or Mia. Better to use 'I'm trying to stay low-stress' as a shield.
The thing is, none of the messages were new. He heard them all already, from far away, stuck in a waking hell before everything blanked out. They're all replayed on the lowest volume imaginable, but the despair is as loud as the first time. A prayer to someone yet no one. 'I hope you can't hear any of this.' 'This was a mistake.' Maybe it would be best to ignore it. He vaguely remembers Lion running off. It would be so easy to delete the messages, assume it was handled, and leave Alex's weakness to his privacy.
But at the same time, it's not right. In the wake of everyone suffering from that thrice-damned mission and trying to keep it to themselves, the only thing that it brings back is that same old anger at the same old problems. Now, more than ever, it's crystalline. Transparent. Even if the words are pointless-
No. They're not. ]
Sorry it's late. [ wait wait shit- ] The response, not the time. I hope your birthday was...
[ Wait. Wait no that's even worse hang up before it sends ]
[ But not immediately. There's a long period of silence on the line: ambient pops and crackles of a mic too low, the occasional beep of a heart monitor or the footsteps of a patrol. Long enough where you'd think he'd just hang up. The entire thing's a mess. ]
...Don't like mine either. Three more days an' I'll get by with no one noticing. Not the same reasons, but celebrating on a day I find worthless is just... Why care about something worthless, right? Not the point. I know it was Wonderland, or that- Raven Queen getting in your head, making it worse, but...
[ Breathe in. Breathe out. No more second-guessing. And the voice is an unmoving lake, all calm certainty with no disruptions. ]
I couldn't speak last time. So I'll say what I was going to.
[ Even then, there's still a minute between this and the follow-up call. An attempt to gather scattered thoughts into something coherent. ]
This is... a really light summary. Before... let's say before meeting Lion. You know the gist of my job. No need to go into details. All you need to know is the nickname for me was 'Heartless Monster.' And... I was. Name's even putting it lightly. I was extremely good at my duties. Still treated as some sorta paragon for it. ...But I found out the extent of what my work did to people. Saw someone else suffer the same thing I put others through. So I forced myself into a nervous breakdown and rewrote my personality from the fragments left over.
[ Holy shit what??? How is that a light summary??? But it's a message, so Alex's horror doesn't matter. ]
Point is, I know what it's like to question your whole life. See something you didn't want to, puts a new context on things, an' suddenly you're worse than trash. Subhuman Furniture, right? Even a desk has more value. 'Least the desk doesn't complain all the time. ...Maybe I would've been happier not knowing anything. Continue thinking nothing was wrong. Not second-guessing everything I've ever done.
Quitting my job is Heresy. If my old coworkers ever find me, I'll probably be executed. But... If I ever got the same choice again, I'd take it every time. I am sick of sob stories, Alex. And every-
[ Over time, the voice goes from calm to tense to two seconds away from having a neurotic meltdown. But the last word chokes into a hiss, a quiet 'shit' overridden by someone in the hallway talking about no noise after lights out. Will manages to bite out 'stop recording' right as the door opens.
[ Ten minutes later the voice is infinitely quieter, but infinitely more smug. ] Should be free of interruptions for a bit.
Everyone focuses so hard on the negatives. My workplace treats all humans as sinners. Observers only want to read dramas and emotional thrillers where everyone's miserable. Even in human memories, you recall negative ones far better than positive ones. Death and misery everywhere, s'all you focus on... Even you. Sure, might've been whatever hit you, but you think you made a mistake because you didn't die at the right time. Tried to help people. Disturbing the proper balance or whatever.
[ And he's an angel, which means it's probably going to be some follow-up about how the afterlife is going to be better and God loves you. ]
So why does it matter? To hell with the balance.
[ And somewhere every other angel spits out their tea. ] Whether tomorrow or fifty years from now, you're going to die. That's just what mortality means. To deny that inevitability is to give up your soul. But if it's inevitable, why not enjoy your life in the meantime?
[ A bit of the focus ebbs away. Still Certain, definitely, but the thread of thought is unraveling. A voice like waves receding. ]
I... picked it up from you. ...Humans in general.
I used to think your lives were pointless. Less than a century compared to the infinite that lies after. Makes all your struggles insignificant. But... It's- You put so much of yourselves into it. Even when- Especially when you know it's pointless. Made no damn sense for the longest time, but after I broke, it... Suddenly it clicked. None of it mattered, but it wasn't pointless. It was everything behind it all. The-Your emotions, your hopes, that drive to keep- just keep doing. It's.
[ The voice cuts off, but the feeling behind it sounds like Alex's own voice when he talks about Clear. It's priceless. Beyond any words or attempt at description. It's beautiful. ]
You thought-think-whatever, that what you did was wrong- the whole dodging death thing, and you were stringing people along. False hopes and that. But to me you were faced with inevitability and told it to come back later. Do you know how insane that is? The fact you did it at all is breath-taking- and you did it for two years, every day, giving hope to people in a hopeless situation. I Wish there were more people like you in the world, Alex. I-
I- give me a moment.
[ He's unraveling. Gotta stay on point here. Give it a minute. Take a breath. Rewind. ]
I died a few months after I decided to change. But I think those few months telling inevitability to go to hell was worth more than my thousand years of life before it.
...I'm sure now you're beating yourself up for being a weird cultist instead'a the whole death dodging thing now. Anyone can tell you got messed in the head. But what you did, with- what Clear did for you - nothing of that was a mistake. There's nothing wrong with saying 'not yet' to things. It's... hard. Keep forgetting it myself some days. But to find that type of willpower to change fate is inspiring, Alex. I'm sure it's what Clear saw in you too.
You won't listen, but-
[ A door slams open. It's too far away to make out most of the voice, but they're angry enough to have that get through just fine. Will makes it worse with only a short moment of silence, Oh Shit given form, before snapping at whoever-it-is to get lost. The rest after is kind of a mess. 'Get off the call' 'Make me' 'Stop bothering ot-' 'Don't say stop-' '-her patients!'
Faerun-Offbrand Microsoft Mary quips in with 'Stop Recording' and shuts the line off. ]
[ It's ten minutes, maybe more, before the last one comes in. A text. Small and simple and full of abject despair. ]
He put me on sedatives.
[ It's not pouting if it's just on text. Tank is a godless nightmare deity in flesh suit. ]
Was almost done anwyay. Anyway. dammit not the point
Try not to be so hard on yourself.
[ He probably won't listen. It's pointless. But the Everything behind the words isn't. Even if it's an infinitesimally small chance that he will, then it's worth it. There's a lot more time spent wondering how to kill the conversation. 'Good night' feels too dismissive considering the rest. 'I hope next month goes better for you' is completely stupid because of course it's going to be better it's not fucking wonderland. Instead, it settles for one last admittance, the smallest honesty. ]
Sorry for the trouble.
[ The username wright signs off, and nothing follows. ]
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