Truth In The Tequila: Part Three
HOTEL MERIDA
8:10 pm
"So let me get this straight," Domino said skeptically. "You had no particular reason for deciding to get hamm--drunk," she corrected hastily. No, I don't think we'll use that particular euphemism today-- The thought almost made her laugh, even under these circumstances. She didn't, though; something told her he would most certainly NOT appreciate it. "You just--decided to try it."
"Amazing," Cable said absently. He seemed distracted, as if his mind was elsewhere. "You do listen--"
"And you expect me to believe that?"
A hand came down on her shoulder. "No," Bridge said in an entirely too pleasant voice. "But I expect you to drop the subject, Dom."
Shaking off his hand, she looked up at him defensively, a little surprised by the anger in his dark eyes. "What?" she demanded. "Did I violate some unwritten rule or something?"
The corner of Bridge's mouth quirked, but he didn't answer. Grizzly, standing behind him, gave her a tentatively repentant look, as if apologizing for his timing. Bridge gave Cable a measuring look, and then turned back to her. "You and Grizz were going to have dinner, weren't you? Why don't you do that--somewhere else."
"What, you think I'm going to turn around and march out of here like a good, obedient--"
"I'm sorry, did that sound like a suggestion?" Bridge asked, his tone almost genial. "It wasn't."
"Always rescuing me, G.W.," Cable murmured almost ironically, before Domino could give Bridge's words the reply they deserved. "You're making a bad habit of that. One of these days, you'll figure out it's better to leave me to my fate." He gave a humorless laugh, and tossed back the rest of his drink. He reached for the bottle again, but G.W. quite deliberately yanked it back out of reach. Cable scowled at him.
Puzzled by his comment, Domino opened her mouth to say something, but Bridge's expression hardened, becoming so implacable that she was taken aback. "Have a good time," he said in a voice underlaid with steel, and gave Grizzly a significant look.
Domino fumed for a moment, but then found herself nodding and following Grizzly out of the restaurant. Maybe it was better this way, she told herself. Bridge had known Cable for a lot longer than she had. He might even know what was wrong, or at least convince Nate to call it a night. I hope--
It felt so strange, to be so concerned about a man she barely knew. But she was. Part of her didn't want to leave, even though she knew, logically, that she hadn't been doing any good.
I'm not a flonqing puzzle, girl. You can't solve me.
She hesitated at the door, looking back just in time to see Bridge sit down beside Cable at the bar. Was that it? She saw him as a challenge? I'm not that shallow--I hope.
"C'mon, Dom," Grizzly said. "G.W. says there's a good Chinese place down the street--"
She gave him a hard look, wondering if he was pulling her leg. "A Chinese restaurant? In Guadalajara? That was a joke, right?"
Grizzly looked puzzled. "Umm--actually, I'm not sure."
Domino sighed and took his arm. "Fine," she said, a little more petulantly than she'd intended. "Let's go take a look, then." She could put a leash on her curiosity for the time being, she supposed. It hadn't been really fair of her to try and get him to open up when he was in that kind of state, anyway. Kind of like kicking the man when he was down--
And besides, when she DID get him to open up--and she would, if she had to keep trying for the next twenty years--she wanted to be able to look on it as an honest victory. Not something achieved through trickery. Domino couldn't help a small, sheepish laugh as they walked across the lobby to the front doors of the hotel. Grizzly gave her a questioning look, but she waved it off.
I'm already characterizing my relationship with Cable as a battle, she thought dryly. How bizarre is that? Bizarre--and yet somehow appropriate in a way, she sensed. A battle she'd never expected to fight, and one that, for some reason she couldn't quite vocalize yet, she desperately wanted to win.
***
Bridge raised an eyebrow at the neat little row of tequila bottles. "You're going to have one hell of a hangover in the morning, Nathan," he said heavily. It was the only thing he could think of to say.
"So?" Cable asked, studying his empty glass as if he saw something fascinating in it. "I'll just find the dog and bite it."
Bridge closed his eyes, biting back what would have been an entirely inappropriate laugh. "Well, that's one way to deal with the morning after," he said dryly. People were starting to trickle into the restaurant for dinner, so he kept his voice low. He studied his friend for a moment, shaking his head. If I didn't know better, I'd think Grizz was pulling my leg. I mean, Nate? Singing?
"Yes, I was singing," Cable said with a shrug. "So?"
Bridge cracked a grin. "Just wishing I'd been here to see it."
"No, you don't."
"You're right, I don't." Bridge sighed. "Just trying to lighten the mood, Nate--"
"Don't bother."
"All right," Bridge said placatingly. "I won't." Trying to jolly Nate out of a bad mood was futile under ordinary circumstances. He lifted up one of the tequila bottles, regarding it bemusedly. "You know, when I told you back in Toronto that a mercenary who didn't drink stood out, I didn't mean for you to throw yourself into it like this--"
"G.W.--" Cable started, sounding impatient.
"A beer with the Pack, maybe. Maybe even a night on the town. Not you sitting here alone, trying to see how many brain cells you can kill off in one night."
Cable glared at him. "I don't feel particularly social," he said, biting off the end of each word as if it galled him to feel obligated to answer. "Now, will you go away and let me be?" He gave the bottle sitting over by Bridge a measuring look. "That one was almost empty anyway." He started to look around for the bartender. Who'd probably done a vanishing act if he had any sense at all, Bridge thought wryly.
"I think you've had enough, Nate," he said mildly.
"Funny thing, G.W., you don't look like my mother," Cable growled, and then made an exaggerated gesture with the empty glass. "Oops. Forgot--I don't have a mother. Lucky me."
Bridge shook his head slowly. "You're really wallowing in it, aren't you?"
Cable's head whipped around. "Excuse me?" he snarled.
"You heard me. You don't usually let your self-pity get the better of you to this extent--"
Cable's eyes narrowed, and Bridge grunted, rocking backwards as his mind was suddenly filled with a series of brief images that flashed like summer lightning and were gone. Fire, gunshots, people screaming--like a reel of film, they finally, mercifully came to an end. Bridge shook his head to clear it, and gave Cable a sharp look.
"What was that?"
"That's what I got from Ramirez and his people," Cable said, looking away. "Right there, at the top of their minds--didn't even have to scan them. All of it--oath, it just about jumped out at me."
Troubled, Bridge regarded his friend for a long, silent moment. He'd never thought very much about that aspect of his friend's abilities. Nathan's telepathy was a useful 'wild card'. It had saved their asses on a number of occasions. But it hadn't even occurred to him to blame Nathan for missing something this time. He'd been overusing his abilities on their last few jobs, and it had been taking a toll on him, Bridge knew. Besides, he was doing a thorough job of kicking himself in the ass, by the look of it.
"We've seen worse," Bridge said bluntly. He found himself remembering that last job in Guatamela, just before they'd met Domino in Toronto. That burned-out village they'd found--Cable had been moodier than usual for weeks afterwards. It was a pattern he'd noticed often, in the years he'd been working with this man. It wasn't that Cable was any less tough, any less hardened to the sort of atrocities people in their line of work saw all too often, but Bridge had been partnered with the man for years now, and he could pretty much tell when there was pain hiding behind the mask. Maybe this sort of thing hit Nathan so hard because he was a telepath, or maybe it was something else, old ghosts--"So what is all this supposed to accomplish?" Bridge asked, gesturing at the tequila bottles. "What are you trying to do? Get yourself drunk enough that you don't remember what you saw anymore?"
Cable's laugh had a strangely wild edge to it. "That was the plan, Bridge, but you know what? It didn't work out that way. The reverse happened. I'm remembering everything, clear as day. And I'm seeing even more." He rose, swaying slightly, and stumbled over to a nearby table, staring down at a middle-aged man in a business suit who looked half-offended, half-terrified of the towering stranger who'd suddenly taken an interest in him. Cable gave him an oddly savage smile, and then looked back at Bridge. "For instance," he said, his voice sounding a little slurred for the first time. "I know that Bill here is sleeping with his best friend's wife." He shook his head at 'Bill', giving him a reproving look. "Not very honorable of you, Bill--"
Oh, holy shit-- Bridge thought, getting up hurriedly. "Sorry," he said quickly to the shocked Bill. "He's had a little too much to drink--he doesn't really--"
Cable gave him an almost haughty look. "Shut up, G.W. I can speak for myself, thank you very much--"
"Nate--"
"Ramon!" Cable's gaze settled on another man, this one sitting with an attractive but motherly-looking woman in a booth on the other side of the restaurant. "Tell me, does your wife there know you cross-dress on weekends?"
Bridge reached out and grabbed Cable's arm, trying very hard to sit on the urge to break into laughter. There really was nothing at all funny about this, but still--shit, he's going to want to shoot himself when he sobers up. All these years keeping his telepathy a secret-- "Nate, either you come with me now or I slug you," he said firmly. "Your choice."
"Bridge, go flonq yourself! I'm not finished yet!" Cable turned and glared at a beautiful young woman who was sitting with an older, white-haired man. "Cynthia! You should be ashamed of yourself! Franz loves you, and you're just sleeping with him for his money?"
"Nathan!" Bridge snapped. "Enough!"
Cable blinked at him. "What? Better he finds out now, before she finally worms her way into his will and gets around to having him killed--" The guilty, terrified shock on the young woman's face was enough to tell Bridge that Cable had described her intentions quite accurately.
"Nate, look at me," Bridge said sharply, grabbing his arm. Cable did, but couldn't quite seem to focus on him. Bridge had no idea how alcohol affected a telepath's powers, but there was something alarming going on here. It was like Nathan was connecting with random minds and couldn't quite manage to stop himself. "You need to come with me, all right? Cool down, sleep this off--"
Cable wrenched out of his grasp with a snarl. "Oath, G.W., I am so sick of you WORRYING about me all the time! If you knew what I--if you knew everything you wanted to know about me, you'd either get sick yourself or want to shoot me, I'm not sure which! I don't--" He swayed so alarmingly that G.W. reached out instinctively to support him, but Cable swore and tried to step away, nearly losing what was left of his balance in the process. "Would you just leave me ALONE?"
"Dayspring, what in the name of the Bright Lady do you think you're doing?" came a querulous voice from behind Bridge. He whirled, and looked down at the oddest creature he had ever seen in his life. He didn't know WHAT it was--hairless and bug-eyed, it was dressed in peculiar clothing and carrying a staff.
"Who the hell--" It was as far as he got before the world froze around him, and he knew nothing more.
***
"Blaquesmith, don't you dare!" Cable snarled as Bridge and everyone else in the room turned into living statues. His head was spinning, but he managed to meet his teacher's eyes, and saw the mixture of bafflement and irritation there.
"You've made it necessary, Dayspring," the enigmatic little Askani said reprovingly. "At this juncture, Bridge is permitted to know of your abilities, but should these others gossip, and should that gossip reach the ears of your other--companions, critical events could be jeopardized. As I tell you, over and over again, you must exercise caution--"
"I don't CARE!" Cable shouted at him, beside himself with anger at Blaquesmith's interference. Actually, maybe it was Blaquesmith who was beside himself, he thought, suddenly confusedly. There seemed to be two of him, at least. Both of them sighed, giving him an aggrieved look, and then glowed briefly with a telekinetic halo.
And the world turned upside-down. Once the room stopped moving, Cable found himself staring up at the ceiling. He 'up-ended' me again, he thought, a growing resentment burning within him. That--
"You are being foolish and self-indulgent, boy." The two Blaquesmiths were looming above him, identical expressions of disapproval on their faces. "Wallowing in self-pity when there is important work to be done--"
All right, that was the second time he'd been accused of that tonight, and he'd had enough! Blindly, he lashed out with what little telekinetic power he could focus, and the Blaquesmiths gave a grunt of surprise as they were hurled backwards.
Anger faded, and Cable sat up, too quickly. He looked around frantically, but didn't see Blaquesmith anywhere. Oath, what did I just do?* he thought, bewildered. He didn't even know where that momentary flash of strength had come from. #Blaquesmith?# he sent out tentatively, and then nearly blacked out as a powerful attack slammed right through his shields.
#That will be quite enough of that, boy!# Blaquesmith's voice echoed sharply in his mind, trapping him quite securely in a telepathic grip that prevented him from accessing his powers. #By the Dream, what's gotten into you?#
Cable had the absurd mental image of an enormous Blaquesmith, grabbing a tiny version of him up by the scruff of his neck and shaking him soundly. That was what this felt like--
#Let go, you little--#
#Then control yourself!#
#All right!#
Abruptly, he was released. Cable opened his eyes, blinking in an attempt to clear his vision, and glared at Blaquesmith as his mentor crouched down in front of him. "Sorry," Nathan said with a twisted smile, just to get a reaction. "I probably shouldn't have done that, should I?"
"Most certainly not!" Blaquesmith said indignantly.
"Never thought that was fair," Cable said. He was beginning to feel more dazed, not less. "You get to dump me on my rear every time I do or say anything you don't approve of, but I can't do anything in return? Definitely not fair, old man. How about you let me drop you off a building, just to even things out--"
"Dayspring? Have you lost your senses entirely?" Blaquesmith interrupted harshly.
"No, I haven't lost my senses. At least, I don't think so. Actually, I think I probably lost them a long time ago, don't you?" Cable started to shake his head, but then thought better of it. The room might start moving again. He tried to laugh. It came out sounding rather strange. "You, me, everyone on this flonqing crusade of ours--we're all crazy as ducks."
"As WHAT?"
"Ducks. You know, off our chairs. Mad as haberdashers. We've misplaced our marbles." Blaquesmith was giving him a peculiar measuring look, and Cable bristled. "Stop looking at me like that. I haven't suddenly sprouted a third eye or something, have I?"
"Not that I've noticed," Blaquesmith said carefully, and then shook his head again. "I should not have left you alone for this long, I see."
"Yeah, left me on a bit too long of a leash this time, old man--"
"We will discuss this," Blaquesmith said firmly, as if coming to a decision. He glanced around at the frozen patrons of the restaurant.
"You go discuss it. You've always been fond of the sound of your own voice," Cable snapped, trying and failing to get to his feet. Gritting his teeth, he tried again and made it this time. Although he really wished there was a wall within reach, just for support. Settling for the bar, he leaned back against it, staring bleakly at the frozen G.W. If he knew--if he had ANY idea about this, or the other times, he'd hate me for it--
"We will discuss this now," Blaquesmith said, sounding like he was at the end of his patience. "But not here."
Cable stiffened, but before he could even open his mouth to protest, the restaurant around them vanished as Blaquesmith teleported, and took him along for the ride.
***
"Don't DO that!" Nathan snapped, swaying unsteadily as they re-materialized in his room. Blaquesmith sighed, reaching out to support his student, but Nathan pulled away, staggering over to the bed and collapsing onto it. "I hate it when you do that," he said, his voice muffled. "Bodysliding me around without asking me first, pulling me back and forth at whim--"
Blaquesmith approached the bed as Nathan turned over onto his back. "You never mentioned this dislike to me before," he said carefully. Nathan stared up at the ceiling, blinking as if he was trying to focus on something and not quite managing it.
"Would you have cared?" he finally asked.
Blaquesmith frowned. "Perhaps. In any case, what is--"
Nathan grabbed one of the pillows and placed it over his head. "I'm not listening--"
"Dayspring, this is extremely childhish behaviour--"
"So?"
Blaquesmith sighed. "Nathan, look at me."
"Go flonq yourself."
"Nathan!"
Nathan sat up swiftly, throwing the pillow aside and glaring at him with an expression that was equal parts resentment and defiance. "I meant that," he said, very slowly and clearly. "I am not in the mood for a flonqing lecture tonight, old man." He started to get up, but then sank back down on the bed again, looking dazed. "I don't feel well."
"Understandable, considering the amount of alcohol you consumed tonight," Blaquesmith said, not quite as severely as he might have. He shook his head. "What possessed you, Nathan?"
"I did it just to piss you off, old man," Nathan snarled sarcastically. "Why do you think?" He fell back on the bed, staring at the ceiling again. "Stars," he said, his voice suddenly faint. "There are stars in the ceiling--see them?"
Blaquesmith extended a light telepathic probe into his student's mind, skimming over the events of the past few days. He understood, now, why Nathan had been projecting his distress so strongly that he'd sensed it halfway across the world. "I see," he said gently. "Stars."
"I saw it all, you know," Nathan continued in that same distant voice. "In their minds, while we were helping the wounded. Everything that happened to those people--it wasn't as bad as what the Canaanites did. Not on the same--scale, but still--"
"It felt very--familiar," Blaquesmith supplied. Nathan was silent. Blaquesmith touched his mind again, making certain adjustments telepathically to mitigate the effects of the alcohol he'd consumed. I shall leave him the headache, though--the foolish boy certainly deserves that much, at least. But Blaquesmith couldn't be too angry at his student, even for indulging in such self-destructive behaviour. He had been there, after all, when the rescue party led by Tetherblood had returned from their successful raid on the Canaanite prison at Palas, where Nathan had been taken after Stryfe had crushed the Clan Chosen forces in that final, cataclysmic battle at Anikia. While the healers had labored to repair the damage done to Nathan's body, Blaquesmith had tried to reach him on a psychic level, risked his own life to travel a mindscape gone dark with grief and despair.
First weeks, then months had passed as he'd tried to nurture that last, defiant spark, all that was left of the proud Clan Chief and tireless revolutionary leader Nathan had been before the Canaanites had destroyed everything he'd fought for and then done their best to break him. Blaquesmith had thought, for an alarming length of time, that he was fighting a losing battle--but once Nathan had recovered physically, that spark had indeed grown, but grown into a raging inferno. Blaquesmith had spent the next year trying to keep his student from succumbing completely to madness, from losing himself in blood-lust as terrible as anything Stryfe had ever exhibited.
"Nathan," Blaquesmith said carefully. "You must not--connect so deeply with these people. This life you're leading--it is merely a way of orienting yourself in this time. You yourself have admitted as much to me--"
"Using people," Nathan muttered, closing his eyes, and the sense of exhaustion Blaquesmith suddenly got from him was staggering. "I'm so--tired of using people, Blaquesmith."
"It is for the greater good," Blaquesmith said, frowning.
"Good, evil--tell me, how does either apply to what we do?" Nathan sighed. "G.W.'s always saying there's no black and white. Only shades of grey--" He snorted. "There's a pun in there somewhere, I'm sure--"
"That is very wise," Blaquesmith said, somewhat impressed. He wouldn't have credited Bridge with the capability for such insight.
"Thought you'd like that. I don't, Blaquesmith. I want the black and white, flonq it all--" Nathan rubbed his eyes. "I want to know that what I'm doing is right. Not just neccessary."
"Neccessity is right," Blaquesmith reminded him gently.
"I'll have to take your word for it. Nothing feels right anymore--" Nathan slid his medallion out from underneath his shirt, toying with it moodily. "I just wish--I wish I could connect with the Pack. Well, maybe not Hammer--but you know what I mean."
"I do," Blaquesmith nodded. "You are looking for the Clan you have lost, Dayspring; the part of you that is gone. Much as I wish it were otherwise, you will not find it here."
An expression of purest pain crossed Nathan's face, and was gone again. "I--know," he said hoarsely.
Blaquesmith, caught between frustration and a deep, tearing pity such as he hadn't allowed himself to feel in years, strode over to the bed and laid a hand on Nathan's forehead. "Sleep," he said softly. It was child's play to 'nudge' his thoughts into a sleep-pattern. Nathan closed his eyes with a sigh, the tension draining from his body. His breathing grew deep and even almost immediately. Blaquesmith stared down at his student's face, so peaceful in repose, for a long time. He remembered the love he had cherished for this man's sister, and the pain he'd felt for her as he'd watched the Sisterhood tear itself apart. Her dream, her hope for the future, damaged beyond repair if not destroyed entirely. It seemed cruelly ironic that Nathan should have suffered much the same sort of defeat; all those years of faith and sacrifice, building the Clan, gaining support, only to lose it all.
"Neither of you would have been chosen if you were not capable," he said, to the sleeping man and the woman who was both long-dead and not yet born. "The universe knows what it is about." But the old saying sounded rather hollow, and brought him no comfort.
***
HOTEL MERIDA,
AUGUST 28th, 8:13 am
Domino strode into the restaurant, glancing around until she saw the secluded corner booth where the rest of the Pack was already seated, having breakfast. "Hi, guys," she said with determined cheerfulness. "Sorry I'm late, but I slept in."
"Well, this isn't a formal meeting," G.W. said a little ironically. "So I'm sure we'll all excuse you."
"How can I ever thank you?" Domino said drolly, and looked around at her other tablemates, measuringly. Grizzly was busy stuffing his face, but he kept eyeing everyone watchfully, as if he expected an argument to break out at any moment. But neither of the two directions such an outburst was liable to come from looked inclined to start anything, Domino noted thankfully. Hammer actually gave her a reasonably polite nod. He was still clearly troubled, if certainly less hostile than yesterday. Cable was staring out the window at the street, looking distracted.
Domino tilted her head, regarding him thoughtfully. Yes, he did look a little green--"So," she asked mischievously, determined to lighten the mood. "How did the 'sampling' go last night?"
Cable gave her a startled look. "The--what?"
Domino raised an eyebrow, impressed. "Hey, you two really must have had a good time." The two of them had been sitting at the bar, G.W. joking about starting with the letter 'a' and working their way down from there. She had no idea why Cable had decided on last night to start experimenting, but it had been pretty cute, actually. He probably just wanted to blow off some steam, she told herself firmly, perplexed by the little ripple of anxiety that the image of Cable sitting at the bar provoked. "What did you finally settle on?" she asked, dismissing that peculiar, niggling worry.
"Tequila," Bridge said wryly, and rolled his eyes. "Only after he'd tried just about everything else they had in stock, though. I've got to tell you, Nate, you're the moodiest damned drunk I've ever known--"
Hammer actually cracked a smile. "Cable getting drunk. Next thing you know, hell'll be freezing over--"
Cable was giving them all a curiously wary look, and Domino frowned. "You really don't remember?" She glanced reprovingly at Bridge. "G.W., you didn't neccessarily had to get him THAT drunk the first time out--"
"No, I remember," Cable said a little too quickly, and Domino chuckled. "Just--I've got a bit of a headache, that's all." He swallowed, looking a little ill, and then shook his head. "I was just telling the others that we've got a few weeks before our next employer needs us. Might as well take advantage of it--"
"I think I'll go home for a bit," Hammer said quietly. "Put things in perspective." There seemed to be something very interesting about his plate. He was staring at it rather intently.
Grizzly shrugged. "I like it here. Except for the heat."
"Fine, whatever," Cable said almost irritably. "Just as long as you show up in London by the fifteenth. Until then, you can go yak-hunting for all I care--"
"Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed," Domino said sweetly. Ordinarily, that would have provoked at least a glare, but he didn't even look at her. She frowned. "Eat something," she finally said. "You'll feel better if you do."
"I'm not hungry," he muttered, and rose. Bridge gave him a startled look, but Cable didn't seem to notice. "I've--got some business of my own to take care of," he said roughly. "I'll see you in a few weeks."
As he started past her, Domino reached out and grabbed his wrist. "Nate, you all right?" she asked concernedly. He'd been so upset yesterday, after all--but she'd figured he'd gotten it out of his system last night. He'd certainly seemed a great deal more mellow when she'd seen him with G.W. before she and Theo had left--
"Just fine, Dom," he said tonelessly, looking anywhere but at her. "Have a good time." She let go of him, and he left without a backward glance. There goes a man with something on his mind, she thought with a frown, and gave Bridge an inquiring look. He seemed a little troubled, but shrugged in response to her unspoken question.
"He'll be fine--probably just needs some time away."
"Yeah, probably," Domino said, craning her neck to catch one last look at him. But he was already gone.
***
Cable shut and locked the door of his room behind him, his hands shaking. The nausea he'd felt upon waking this morning returned tenfold, and he gritted his teeth, determined not to give in to it.
He did it. I should have known he would--damn him! He'd seen the false memories in their minds, and they were certainly well-constructed. Perfectly convincing. They'd all been so content in their ignorance, blissfully innocent of the fact that they'd been the victims of a very sophisticated sort of manipulation last night. Cable wondered bleakly how many other minds Blaquesmith had invaded in order to cover his 'lapse' in self-control. Just the thought of his made his headache worse.
Stupid--so stupid, all of it! What had gotten into him? Blaquesmith hadn't touched his memories. He could recall everything with perfect clarity, as if he'd been entirely sober. Domino's curiosity, G.W.'s concern--Blaquesmith. Cable turned, leaning his forehead against the solid wood of the door, wondering if slamming his head against it a few times would help.
He'd let his emotions get the better of him. There was no excuse for that, none at all. And somehow, it made things worse, that Blaquesmith hadn't so much as scolded him for such contemptible behavior. He'd been understanding, even kind in his own peculiar way--Cable writhed inwardly, remembering Blaquesmith's last words.
You are looking for the Clan you have lost, Dayspring; the part of you that is gone. Much as I wish it were otherwise, you will not find it here.
I--know.
Accept this. You must mourn them and move on. What is, is--
Cable felt his throat tighten, a rebellious spark flickering into life deep inside him. The words themselves sounded so callous. You couldn't shut your heart off--Bright Lady knows he'd tried.
Mourn them and move on.
Move on. Put it behind him. The sensible thing to do, probably, but how could he? If he moved on, if he forgot--he made it all meaningless. Dishonored the dead.
--will not find it here.
Of course he wouldn't. Especially when he hadn't even let himself look.
Accept--
Easier said than done.
What is, is--
But there was a small voice, quiet but firm, with a different question. A question that Blaquesmith would have scorned as blasphemy, or wishful thinking at the very best.
But what if--? it asked. And Nathan wished he had the courage to try and find the answer.
fin
[FOOTER]