route_1065 | Leave my door open just a crack, 'cause I feel like such an insomniac

Current Mood: awake
Current Location: Ecruteak City Inn

Entry tags:

Leave my door open just a crack, 'cause I feel like such an insomniac

Who: Dale Cooper and Heather Mason
Where: the Ecruteak City Inn
When: Wednesday night, 2:33 AM
Summary: Losing beloved friends and gaining unwanted reminders of the past in payment... none of that makes for a peaceful night's sleep, not even in peaceful little Ecruteak City. Some people think that the best cure for a churning, restless mind on bad-dream-filled nights is to indulge the sweet tooth a bit. Which is why Heather is slipping down to the (closed) inn kitchen in search of some ice cream, when she encounters the only thing worse than being forced to remedy a lack of ice cream by 'borrowing' some: getting busted by a cop for doing just that.
.... Except that it turns out he's down there for the exact same reason she is!

...

... She won't tell if he won't.
Rating: G
Log:
For anyone who's grown accustomed to spending time in the cities where the population's collective bedtime seems not to roll entirely around until at least three in the morning, it's surprisingly jarring to suddenly find oneself in a town where it's the exact opposite.

The town of Ecruteak sat in the middle of a blanket of forest sort of like an elderly cat-- sleepy and quiet, save for the quiet purr of the wind through the trees and shingled rooftops. Far from the busybodies of places like Goldenrod, the population of Ecruteak was old and happy, and therefore on principal, virtually all activity in the city seemed to die out entirely by the time the clocks hit 1:00 AM.

Peaceful was a good word to describe the place. No far-off music (apart from the everlasting 8-bit soundtrack, of course), no voices filtering in through the windows as groups of nightlife-enjoyers walked past down the street, no clunky footsteps of people going up and down the stairs of the inns at all hours of the night. Nothing to keep your average weary traveler from their beauty sleep, not even on a warm night like this one.

... Unfortunately, for one Heather Mason, the it was that very silence itself that was keeping her awake.

And-- after a whole hour of tossing and turning after startling awake in a cold sweat around one-thirty, she knew that even if sleep were eventually to come, it wouldn't be a sleep she wanted to slip into, nor would it mute all the noise in her own head.

Which was why, a quietly-shut door and a few creaky wooden steps later, she was standing in the dark Employees-Only kitchen of the Ecruteak City inn in a tank-top and boxer shorts, scratching the back of her ankle absentmindedly with one bare foot as she tried to work out which stainless-steel fridge door was the one that led to the freezer component, and whether or not it would make much noise if she just... opened it and took a look at what was inside.

If there had been room service available at all hours like there had been in the big Goldenrod Hotel, she'd have done the nice, legal thing and ordered something like a responsible human being. But THIS place practically shut down at midnight (what the hell?!), so she couldn't. Really, there was just no alternative.

Besides, they wouldn't miss a little bit of ice cream, right?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

She remembers when Dee disappeared... they'd talked about it together. And that had been when the big reveal had been dropped, so to speak...

But she hadn't known about the others.

".... I liked Dash and AJ too."

Hadn't known Sasha too well.

He remembers them fondly. AJ in particular always had ways of cheering him up, not to mention she'd been the only one in Johto to ever call him "Coop" ... and Dash had always been onto him about expressing himself more, about taking more space. In a strange way it had been comforting, like he was looked after. Something he doesn't get very often.

There were a bunch of other factors, too, of course, but it all ended up in a love for them that was unexpected but welcome.

"They were easy to like. ...I miss them very much."

Mildly, slowly really, with a hint of a smile because he can't quite think about them without one.

Dee and Sasha, he hadn't gotten to know that well before they left, but he misses them as well.

Edited 2011-10-12 13:03 (UTC)

There's a long pause on Heather's part.

She doesn't often act like a particularly perceptive individual, and to be fair, that's because she often isn't.

But maybe it's just a hunch, or maybe she's just a bit more thoughtful than normal tonight, but ...

"... Is that why you couldn't sleep?"

He ... frowns, because he has to think about it for a second. He's used to not being able to sleep very well. It's something that's been there for years and he stopped analyzing it a long time ago. He just accepts it, finds other means to rest, and treasures the nights he actually manages to get a few full hours in.

But ... yeah, he supposes that's got something to do with it. Along with his work in general and the visions and feelings that keep him up on occasion.

Then again, he hasn't given up on sleep altogether in favour for a nightly stroll for a long time now. So he nods.

"I think so. In part. But to tell you the truth I don't normally sleep all that well."

Which, if you take the time to really look at him, can typically be seen. There's always that trace of darkness beneath his eyes - often overlooked in favour of his typically energetic behaviour, but very much there. And that's why he gives her the information like it's nothing new.

"Why not?"

It's an innocent-enough question, even though she asks it with her own experiences with sleep in mind... She's never been an easy sleeper either, although in her case it was because even when she hadn't remembered her past, it came back to her sometimes. Mostly in flashes, and always at night.

And the nightmares had only become worse after she'd regained all her memories ... partially because she could now remember everything in exquisite detail, and partially because she'd just added a whole rash of NEW bad memories for the dreams to draw from.

Although nights like this where anxiety about something was actively gnawing at her insides weren't too common, it wasn't... unusual for Heather to wake up a lot in the middle of the night. It had been that way ever since she was a little child.

Which might explain why she's looking at Cooper in a perceptive but distinctly childlike fashion, chin on her knees and head cocked sideways.

What did he have in that head of his to disrupt his sleep?

There are a lot of ways he could answer that and he thinks them all through when he regards her. He's not sure what he wants to tell her - it's true that she's told him a lot lately, both the past minutes and the past few months, but ... well, he'll always be reluctant to share all the details.

Everything that troubles him remains his problems, and his faults, and it'll take something more than a general question to get him to talk about it.

"I'm an agent with the FBI. It goes with the job."

The answer is something of a compromise. It's very true that what he sees while on the job tends to get to him more often than it doesn't - but the way he looks a little guarded probably makes it clear that there's more to the story than that.

She's not gonna be satisfied with that, to put it bluntly.

Equal exchange, buddy.

... Or, well at least more-equal exchange.

She arches a brow, sitting up a little bit.

"Y'know, I just spilled my guts all over the floor. If you feel like gettin' something off your chest, you've got MORE than enough dirt on me now to make sure I don't squawk."

It's Heather's usual playful, slightly-challenging way of saying something with a meaning more sensitive than she usually felt comfortable coming right out with. Conversation too awkward? Put it in terms of a conflict! That's Heather's philosophy.

But no seriously Coop, she coughed up so now it's your turn. >8I

That actually makes him grin and there's a quiet laugh to go along with it. That is a prompt if he ever heard one ... and she's right, really.

"Fair's fair, huh?"

He readjusts his position somewhat as well, and takes a moment while the smile fades. He's trying to get a good look at everything that's going around his head.

"It is part of the reason. When I first graduated the Academy I was assigned to the violent crimes task force. I only stayed there two years before I applied to be reassigned to the counter-intelligence division."

He pauses briefly, eyes drifting.

"I was working this case ... a man who picked up a number of male prostitutes. He abducted them, raped them, and shot them several times. It took us several days to make an arrest. When I asked him why he did it he told me his victims had asked him to."

It had been the last straw in a long line of happenings that finally made Cooper decide to get out of all that. It had been a little too much, at the time. Embezzlement and espionage had seemed like vacation.

"I only got back into violent crimes a year ago. ... well, two years ago. My boss wanted me back on the streets. But the things you see there can really get to you."

There you go, Heather. It's a start, isn't it?

It is a start!

And Heather, although she's had an unfortunately thorough (and personal) education in many of the things that people like Cooper were required to investigate, has no idea what it's like from the vantage point of the person putting the bad guys behind bars. Over and over and over and over again.

_{Maybe because NO ONE had put her bad guys away. Except for her, and Harry.}

"... Sounds rough."

The words themselves mean little, but there's compassion in her tone. And an unspoken prompt to continue. She's all ears and it's not like you can make her sleep any worse than she's already been sleeping.

"It's not easy getting used to."

He knows several people in the Bureau who are much more jaded than he is. Windom had been one of them. And though he's gotten better at keeping the cases at bay himself, you can never quite keep any of them from getting under your skin. Especially when you confront the perpetrator.

Whether they're cold, delusional or genuinely regret the act, those people tend to linger even more than the victims.

... and he hears the 'go on' in her voice but isn't sure what else he can tell her about his job. He doesn't shrug, but there's a motion like maybe he would have, and then he gives her a faint smile.

"I originally wanted to join the circus."

Where he ended up is quite a far cry from that.

That gets a sort of bittersweet smile out of her.

Part of her wants to make a crack about 'WELL I GUESS THAT EXPLAINS WHY YOU LIKE HANGING UPSIDE-DOWN SO MUCH', but maybe she'll just save that one for another time.

Instead, she offers a slightly wry, "I guess things never work out the way we think they're gonna when we're kids, huh?"

He shakes his head.

"They rarely do. ...but I did want to join the FBI before that. I lost my direction a few years later, dropped that idea ... got a job digging holes."

He learnt a lot from the man he was digging holes with. He later disappeared without a trace.

"After university I went to a job fair at the local civic center. Ended up spending over an hour at the FBI booth with a very intelligent agent."

An agent who'd later end up as his partner. There's a slight shift in his face when he thinks about Windom Earle, but he carries on in the same tone of voice as before.

"So I suppose that much worked out. But it's safe to say I was ill prepared for what it entailed."

"I don't think anybody can ever really prepare themselves for... for that."

She says this with the male-prostitute rape case he mentioned before in mind, of course.

You could hear about it, you could read about it, hell, you could even steel yourself up and imagine you know what the impact would be like, but until you've actually experienced something like that ... you just didn't know.

He'd actually worked that case undercover. The killer had picked him up at one point. Cooper had dismissed him, initially ... but thinking back on it and knowing that he'd been alone with him, however brief a period of time, is definitely sobering.

"No, not really."

He's quiet for another moment.

"I found a murder victim when I was nineteen. I was walking back to campus from a bar." His tone remains fairly neutral, if soft - but he breathes out slowly in a way that does show for how this incident did affect him. "She couldn't have been dead for more than ten minutes. She was badly beaten. Stabbed multiple times. I couldn't sleep at all that night."

There you have it. Sleeping problems. There are other reasons but he feels less than inclined to start going through them. And maybe Heather's curiosity will be sated with the more general factors pertaining to it. Because this is still not about him as much as the things he's seen, and that makes it easier to talk about.

... but then again, maybe that's something she'll pick up on - that he's still dodging.

... That is really horrifying and if he'd actually said something along those lines, he might've actually gotten to see Heather look legitimately appalled for a second or two.

As such, though, she'll just watch him quietly as he relates the second tale.

Yeah. The sleeping problems pretty much make sense now, and her curiosity on that front is more or less satisfied.

But there's something else, and she can't quite put her finger on it. She doesn't expect total, soul-baring frankness or anything... but they just ate ice cream together and then she told him about her long lost little sister who had grown up to be a murderous martyr.

There had to be a little more she could squeeze out of him.

"... There's more, though, isn't there?"

There's a very momentary, very dark smile. There's always more. Always, because no matter which way you look at it, Coop's just never managed to catch a break in his life. He could go on for ages about all the numerous incidents that shaped and wrecked him, but when he doesn't want to think about them (and yet there they are, his thoughts, running free like rabid dogs in the woods) there's not a lot he wants to say, either.

That smile is gone in a flash, anyway, and he looks out the window again, seeing black and black and specks of white, and his voice takes on a completely different tone. Far away - almost ... dreamy. With a new, smooth edge, something that's weird but somehow not at all out of place.

"What do you know about dreams, Heather?"

With her name, he's looking at her again, absently touching the surface of the gold ring on his left little finger.

... Ooh.

Now that's a new face for him, at least as far as Heather's seen.

She lets her chin drop back down to her knees again and just watches him as he thinks.

Then, when he finally speaks, she scratches her head a little. Something in the conversation had shifted in a tenser direction, and when things get tense, Heather's first instinct is to crack a joke to loosen things up a little. Which is why her voice is wry when she responds, if only at first.

"Well, they're involuntary visions that happen during REM sleep ...."

... And then she pauses, remembering that this is a conversation she should probably be taking seriously. When she speaks again, her tone is a little more thoughtful.

"... I know they show us things that we know, but don't wanna know. ... Or don't wanna remember. ... Sometimes."

... At least for her.

He nods, because it's true that flashbacks and repressed memories resurface in dreams - he's had that too - but it's almost with a sense of impatience, like she's a student who technically got it right but is missing the point.

"We see things in dreams we can't see when we're awake."

His mother had told him that. She told him many things he didn't understand until much later ... but he moves on from that statement quickly. He speaks in a much more animated fashion now, gesturing with what can only be described with precision to emphasize his point.

"They're images. Ideas, sensations, emotions. Some believe they're messages. In Ancient Egypt it was believed that the gods showed themselves in dreams. But no one knows where these images come from."

~~Red and black and white.~~

This is important, but he doesn't actually stop to see if she follows.

Edited 2011-10-13 00:22 (UTC)

H-hey, cut her some slack! For her, dreams were a window to the things she'd been trying to forget for seventeen years...

But she sort of nods anyway. He's getting all intense, and she's not gonna interrupt that at least not while he's in the thick of it. It's a side of Cooper she's never seen before.

So she'll listen.

You've got a captive audience, Coop, so dream-rant to your heart's content.

Of course - but it could be argued that they're not actually dreams in that case, but just that: repressed memories. It's a fine distinction but still one to make.

And then there's that flash of a grin again. It's an odd tendency he has, another one of his seemingly well-known quirks ... the way he can get excited. Sometimes morbidly so. Inappropriately. But this isn't quite like that -- it's laced with a weariness that's reflected in his eyes and when he next exhales it's replaced by traces of a frown, leaving him looking simply contemplative.

So as far as a rant goes, it really died before it could get anywhere.

"Dreams," he says after a pause, "keep me up sometimes. But I've often had a feeling that some of them aren't mine."

This is true.

"... Like they were from a different life?"

The question escapes Heather before she can even really think about it. And that's probably not what he meant.

Well ... technically yes, but not really.

"No, just other people's."

Different lives by definition, but he has a feeling that's not what she meant. But he looks at her with renewed attention, eased back into the previous role of the listener as opposed to the speaker.

"Is Cheryl a different life?"

... W'uh oh.

The abrupt redirect onto her catches her by surprise, and she blinks at him owlishly for a second or two before replying.

"... Er. ... Yes and no."

It had been a self-admitted mistake on Harry's part, naming the new baby Cheryl. Even though all that had been Cheryl was now in Heather, melted town and reforged into a whole, Heather... was not the same little girl he had found on the side of the road all those years ago. She never would be.

... But, well, the name remained, even after she'd taken on the alias.

"Your father told me that's your original name."

Well, as far as Cooper knows, anyway. He looks ar her carefully - he doesn't want her to think he's trying to make her talk. He can be the good cop as well as the bad cop but he's much more inclined towards the first and is right now, in fact, not much of a cop at all.

"Yeah, it is. ... In... more ways than one."

Well, she's already told him about the reincarnation... Cheryl's existence in and of itself was a strange little anomaly-- a temporary blip in time. Which was, perhaps, what had made it so hard for Harry to let go of her. Half a child, living as one being for seven years... and then ceasing to exist.

Well, not ENTIRELY, but... close enough, from the perspective of anyone who had known her... of the man who had raised her from infanthood.

"See, before I... died, the first time... I did this thing. Sort of. To stop... to stop the cult's plan from succeeding, they needed me in one piece. So I sent half of me... away. Where it'd be safe. And-- y'know, be able to be happy. ... That was Cheryl."

She pauses there for a breath, folding her arms across her knees more comfortably and then resting her head sideways. Remembering that period of separation was... often confusing, and a little painful. When half of yourself was living a happy childhood, and the other, a haze of pain and horror that could hardly be called a life at all...

And it got even worse when they had converged in that town on the night Alessa had died. Two separate trains headed back for the same track...

"... Eventually the cult was able to draw her back to Silent Hill, and Dad... followed. Um. ... When I was... one person again, that's when... that's when I finally died. ... And when I was reborn, Dad named me Cheryl again. ... Even though I wasn't the same."

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