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[i_got_this]

Who: North ol_northy and South i_got_this Dakotas
What: DRAMADRAMADRAMA
When: The wee hours of the night/morning after North's arrival
Where: Norths' room
Rating: R because South's a pottymouth and drunk. And South. Also H for heartbreaking and Y for YWOULDYOUEVEN

South had told Carolina time and time again that she didn't know what to do if North had ever shown up, and his sudden appearance proved her right. Their initial conversation had been cut short, South weighted down with unhappy knowledge and personal demons that proved to be too great for her to confront at that moment. She'd cut out as soon as she could and sought out Crowley, who had helped to get her shit-faced drunk to try and come to terms with her twin's presence and what to do about the 'things' she knew.

She must have passed out there, and he must have demon'd her back, because she had awoken in her own room, a bottle of something still clutched in her hand and a sudden realization that she felt - in this drunken madness - she should do. She had to tell him. It would continue to eat at her, cloud her every waking moment.

Staggering her way through the castle, she eventually finds his room (which, fortunately or unfortuantely, depending on how one looked at it, was only a floor down and a few rooms over from hers), and leans on the door for support while she bangs on it, loud and desperate.

"North! North wake up! You here or are- are you somewhere else?"

Comments

[i_got_this]

"Mhmm..." She releases the water and a little awkwardly situates herself under the covers, laying there for a moment and watching him, thinking back on those times before when she'd been drunk, or upset, or otherwise inconsolable by anyone else and he had been there.

"I'm glad you're here." She smiles softly, before turning onto her side and curling slightly in order to drift off.

At first she sleeps in fits and starts, ghosts of nightmares drifting through her subconscious, without enough meat to fully wake her but enough to illicit the tiniest gasps and whimpers, before she's finally able to sleep into a deep REM.

The full-fleshed nightmares, the kinds that appeared with the news of the Project's future, or the already numerous castle horrors she'd been suggested to already, the kinds that would have her waking in a cold sweat and ruin the rest of her night, were absent, frightened off by the presence to the side of the bed.

[ol_northy]

"Goodnight, kiddo." It's half-whispered as he tucks her in, musses her hair just a little, and waits for the small, distressed noises to subside.

North sits up for a while longer, Theta chattering away in the back of his head with questions he won't answer. South is there, and she's safe, and that's pretty much his priority, especially now that he's heard a little of what the castle can do.

He thinks on his own fate, the inescapable grip of Maine's--no, of Sigma's ambition. The things he doesn't know. The things he can't know. It's just a vague notion, Maine chasing them down, taking Theta, taking his life, and if only--if only--he could remember exactly what happened, he'd feel a lot more secure. Or so he thinks. All he knows is that they were running, then standing, then preparing for a fight that never came. And then Theta was gone, and he was, too.

It's a waking nightmare for him, facing the inevitability of one's own end, looking at it in past tense and seeing no solutions, no outs. The horror of being unable to think of one because the scenario won't replay. It's something no one should have to experience, an unnatural state created by this place. And what? Had he wished to be here? Somehow he doubts the wishing goes that far.

As he finally settles in, his own glass of water empty and set aside on the nightstand, he's just a few feet from the bed, just far enough to see South's fingertips at the edge of the mattress. If she's at peace for now, he'll just force himself to be, too. With a mentally whispered goodnight to Theta, he drifts off to sleep.

[i_got_this]

South wakes slowly, more of a sensation of drifting back to consciousness then a single moment of pulling out of sleep. She becomes first aware of the hangover, the dull, heavy throb in her head and the hint of nausea in her stomach that she's sure will become a roar if she moves too fast. Then, she remembers why she'd gotten so drunk, and slowly, mentally shifts through the events of the previous day and night.

She keeps her eyes closed, holding her breath and laying infinitely still for a fraction of a moment, listening for North's breathing before fully admitting to herself it wasn't some drunken dream or imaginings.

Carefully, slowly, she pulls herself up to sitting and takes her glass of water from the bedside table for a sip, wishing up a couple painkillers to start the morning off.

[ol_northy]

When she awakens, North is still sound asleep, one arm curled under the pillow to give it more height. He's facing the bed, eyes tightly closed and brow furrowed at something concerning his dream. It's nothing so horrible, nothing that's giving him any real trouble, but he certainly doesn't seem to be waking from it at the moment.

With a soft grunt, he turns his face into the pillow.

[i_got_this]

South sets her glass down and watches him for a moment, then slides off the bed and pulls the comforter with her, haphazardly draping it over him before carefully shuffling over to the bathroom.

[ol_northy]

He stirs just a little at the feeling of something touching his arm and side, and as exhausted as he is, he pulls it closer to his chin. But the dream ends and he slowly wakes, disappointment but not surprise etching on his features as he notes South's absence.

"South?" He can't really call her by her proper name, even now. Odd, how the program changes people.

[i_got_this]

"Out inna minte." She calls from the bathroom, before closing the door and going about getting sick, among other more regular morning routines. If she thought she could have made it back to her room, she probably would have been gone.

It's just a quick shower (she didn't use all the shampoo), and she's wished up fresh clothes as well. She calls out as she finishes towling off her hair, "You decent?"

[ol_northy]

"Yes, I'm decent." There's just a hintof sarcasm there, because he's not that awake yet anyway. If she's up and about, maybe she's feeling a bit less like death warmed over.

"Do you want breakfast, or is your stomach trying to get you from the inside out?"

[i_got_this]

She opens the door and drops the towel onto the bathroom floor.

"It tried, but I defeated it. I'm fucking starved." She walks in and flops in rhe bed, still a little gingerly but with more enthusiasm then the previous night.

[ol_northy]

He glances over to the bathroom as he gets to his feet. It's a good time to stretch his now stiff arms and back.

"Did you hang up the towel?"

[i_got_this]

She gives him a look, since it should be pretty obvious.

"Did you see me hang up the goddamn towel?"

[ol_northy]

He doesn't bother giving her a look, heading straight to the kitchen.

"Hang up the goddamn towel, South."

[i_got_this]

She lets out a huff and drags herself back to the bathroom.

"Fine I'll hang up the goddamn towel." Which she does, or rather just flips it over the curtain rod before going back to sit on the bed.

"Why is your room so fucking tiny?" She asks as she finally looks around at the space.

[ol_northy]

Damn it, South. Seriously. You can't do one nice thing for your brother. But still...

"Thank you." For trying. Which doesn't really mean much when the towel slides off the shower curtain rod and lands on the floor again. Were he a lesser man, he'd roll his eyes.

"It's not tiny. It's big enough for me, and that's all I really need. I feel kinda spoiled after, what, a few dozen months sleeping on rocks and in jeeps?"

[i_got_this]

"What the hell were you doing sleeping on rocks?"

She glances over at him, genuinely confused by the comment.

[ol_northy]

"What's the last thing you remember from home?"

As he sets about digging through the well-stocked fridge, pulling out eggs, bacon, cheese, the works. Breakfast sandwiches with just the right amount of salt, and more bacon than they probably need.

[i_got_this]

She goes quiet, watching him assemble breakfast. It had been too much to hope these sorts of questions wouldn't pop up.

"Just after the Sarcophagus mission." She still couldn't keep the envy out of her voice, pride stinging again that she'd been left out of it

[ol_northy]

A quiet sigh. This isn't exactly how he wanted this to go, but it's best to work it out sooner rather than later. It was an ugly mission, that one, and she knows of the fallout, he hopes. But what else has she heard?

"Do you know about Tex? About the Alpha?"

[i_got_this]

"Tex kicking Carolina down to spot two, yeah." She disliked Tex on principal, but at that point in time it had been nice to see Carolina knocked down a notch. "I don’t know about the Alpha. Is that … one of the AI things?”

Her tone drops as she asks, side-eyeing North as she starts to wonder if he’s got Theta with him. She figures it’s probably too much to hope that the AI was his loss.

[ol_northy]

Too much to hope, yeah. Theta’s there, quietly observing, trying--failing--not to pry.

“The Alpha... It’s where they all came from. Long story short, Tex went after it. She’s an AI, too, and you didn’t really like her being a traitor. You and I had a nice little shooting match before we went on the run for a while, so, rocks and jeeps.”

A deep breath, but he puts the bacon in the pan without missing a beat.

[i_got_this]

She listens quietly, intently, tensing slightly as she worries that this is the moment in their timelines that she turns, but -- it doesn't sound like it.

"On the run? We were on the run with Texas?" She sounds genuinely confused, since it didn't really fit in with what little details she'd been told.

[ol_northy]

"No, not with her. Just the two of us. The Director was a messed-up guy. I wasn't letting either of us stay in that situation." And of course he means her, he wouldn't let her be put through that. He wouldn't leave without her. Another breath there, and he's silent, thoughtful, until the bacon is done.

"South, I don't know all the details. But I think you know what happened."

He was killed by Maine. Or something like that. It's fuzzy. He knows he died, and that's that. He knows she can't fill in the gaps for him.

[i_got_this]

She swallows thickly, a cold guilt cutting through her gut. She'd made the internal decision not to tell him and apparently it hadn't even mattered.

South can't reply. For several long moments she just sits, tense, while she tries to bottle up emotions that are starting to roil to the top, taking deep, measured breaths to still the panic tightening in her chest.

But it's no use, she can feel herself losing the internal battle at the thought of having this conversation with North, and she suddenly shoots to her feet and immediately makes for the door. She might be muttering something about not being able to do this, but it's with a tight and soft voice.

[ol_northy]

Not exactly the reaction he expected, but the food is abandoned for a moment as he calls out in a firm voice.

"South, stop."

She knows he died. She's had time to deal with it. But he can't say it, not so easily. He doesn't expect her to react violently, to such an extreme as to run away.

"It wasn't your fault. Wash told me what happened. It was Maine who was after us."

[i_got_this]

She stops at the door, dropping her head and curling her hands into fists. Anyone else she would have just ignored and kept going.

And just when she thinks this is it, they're going to have this discussion and she really will lose him forever, his words sink in. There's a small nugget of relief, which she keeps to herself. He doesn't know it really is her fault.

But it didn't change the fact that it happened at all, and that pain wasn't going away either and was very real and visible at the moment. She cants her head slightly toward him, without looking up, forcing words out to kill the awful silence.

"Yeah. They told me, too." It's not enough, she's still feeling unsettled and on edge, and can't hold herself back from giving the door a healthy, wood-creaking kick. "Goddamnit this is such bullshit!"