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

[foolishwren]

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?

Comments

[foolishwren]

Yeah, she hasn't... heard of anything like that happen before... except in Phoenix's case, where his daughter-from-the-future showed up... but unlike Heather, Trucy had made herself known right away. Awkwardly, maybe... but it was all for the best.

So Cooper's statement gets a PSHHSHT sound.

"'Course not! That'd require me to be, like, a responsible, mature human being. I mean, duh, Cooper, get with the program."

Self-deprecation is something that's almost always in Heather's tone in one way or another-- she's never been one to shy away from self-mockery. But it's absolutely oozing from these words, and it lacks the goofy, playful edge that it's usually characterized by. Even now, she's disgusted with how she had handled this.

"I buried my head in the sand. I didn't even tell anybody that he was my dad. Apart from like... one or two people. I was too embarrassed. I didn't push him away, but I sure as hell didn't give him any reason to come closer, and so he didn't. Why would he? I was just some punk kid. I even gave him a fake name, so he wouldn't suspect."

Morris instead of Mason... the alias they'd gone by after the name-change that had resulted in 'Heather'.

"Anyway... time passed, shit went down... I eventually realized what an ungrateful idiot I'd been, and after I got a little... reality check, I finally told him who I was. He'd already figured it out... saw my real name on a police warrant, of all things. Really cementing my great rep in his eyes, right? ... But I told him. And..."

She pauses to take a deep breath, staring straight ahead.

"... And that's when he stopped replying."

She'd asked him if he was mad at her, for lying.

And even though it hadn't been his fault, and she'd gotten her closure with him now that he was back, older and wiser and accepting of her no matter HOW many mistakes she'd made... god, that silence had still hurt. It had hurt more than almost anything else she had experienced here in Johto.

Her voice is a little dull when she continues.

"It took about a month of radio silence before I finally got that error message. I still hadn't... told anybody about what had been going on. The fact that I'd finally said something and just... hadn't gotten anything back was just so fucking embarrassing, I didn't even say anything to the couple of people who DID know. And when I finally got the proof he was gone, I just..."

Wellp.

Removing her chin from her hand, she balls her fingers into a fist and raises it at Cooper, showing off the gnarled white scar tissue that decorates her knuckles, standing out quite visibly even in the dim light.

"There wasn't anybody around who I wouldn't have to explain the whole story to, and doing that just seemed... impossible, that night, so I just ... went off alone and found an alley wall somewhere in Goldenrod, and..."

And the rest was history.

[tapestodiane]

Oh, he remembers commenting on that. That had been a long time ago now - he barely knew her. But her hands had looked terrible by any standards and he hadn't gotten out of the habit of checking out exactly why that was.

And, let's face it: he still hasn't. In almost any given situation he will poke and prod and investigate, because that's what he's always done. Sure, it's led him into some less than desirable situations ... but on the whole it still seems to have worked out.

At least as far as the big picture goes.

He hadn't forgotten about those scars. He'd noticed them on occasion but never commented further, hadn't honestly been all that interested to know about them either after a certain point. But there's still a sense of satisfaction in knowing where they came from, now, and he makes a little 'ah' sound when he looks at the ragged white lines across her skin.

Then he looks back to her face. He's honestly not entirely sure what she's trying to tell him, so the expression is thoughtful, but there's also sympathy for HER there.

He recalls wanting to punch people's teeth out. He imagines what she describes would be a little like that. Except what she did also looks a lot like punishment. To herself.

"You must have been very relieved when he came back."

From her time, no less.

[foolishwren]

It was.

Most of what had been coursing through her veins that night had just been frustration, pure and unfiltered. It'd had to come out one way or another, and letting fists fly had seemed like the only option. Because talking... talking wouldn't have worked.

But she'd be lying if she tried to claim that part of it hadn't also been a petty little bit of revenge on herself for letting that chance slip away. Heather had always been a vengeful person, after all. Her anger was characterized by bloodthirstiness, and when that anger was directed at herself... well, let's just say she doesn't believe in exceptions.

But she nods.

"I was. Still am."

And not a day went by that she didn't hug her father, tell him she loved him, or even just sit there with him quietly while he jotted down his never-ending story ideas and musings. Whatever happened, she was NOT making the same mistakes she'd made before. Never, ever again.

But that wasn't the point of this story.

So when she looks up, she fixes Cooper with a piercing stare.

"But the fact is, if I hadn't bottled it all up... if I'd actually told people what was happening, asked them for help... I wouldn'tve been left high and dry that night. I would've been able to go to somebody before I turned my hands into ground hamburger. ... I did go to someone, for the record, but it was still a little too fucking late."

As usual... although choking her troubles out to Phoenix that night had been the best thing she could have done.

"But I didn't, and even though I needed somebody, the thought of having to explain the entire story before I could even start to answer the question of 'So why are you so messed-up right now?' was just so mortifying I couldn't do it. Because I didn't go to anybody for help, for months. Just ignored everything, and brushed it off as me dealing with it on my own and not burdening other people with my truckloads of emotional baggage, and by the time I realized I was up the creek without a paddle, I was too far from shore to yell for help."

And there you have it, Cooper.

There's her lesson.

She folds her arms over her knees again, resting her head on them broodingly. Even remembering that night conjures up the same bitter feelings that had led her to take out her frustrations on a brick wall. Her tone is appropriately sardonic.

"And that was the day I learned I wasn't a special snowflake who didn't need to open up to anybody."

[tapestodiane]

Well. That certainly got her point across. And Cooper is actually a little stunned.

A lot of people had started to tell him what she just told him, but never quite so directly. So obviously pointed his way. Mostly because he never gave them a chance -- because hell, he's punishing himself too, isn't he?

So when it hits home, his first instinct is to dodge again. Argue. But that's not the right thing to do and he's quiet while he thinks about what she said. Really thinks about it.

"Okay," he says after a moment, pronouncing it 'okei' the way he does sometimes. Okay, he thinks he understands. There's a moment of silence, and then, bluntly, suddenly-

"Do you want to hear the whole story?"

[foolishwren]

That's Heather for you.

Sayin' it like it is.

She doesn't really expect him to take it completely to heart right away. But she'd said what she wanted to, and maybe it'd even help him out.

... Needless to say, she's surprised by the sudden offer, and she lifts her head again, looking back over at him. It's obvious she didn't expect him to say... well, that.

"... Sure," she says, after a moment or so. Because... yeah. She's curious. Can you blame her for it? Trying to chase some of the bitterness out of her tone, she offers a sheepish smile. "We still got a good few hours of moonlight, after all."

[tapestodiane]

He smiles back, very briefly. Yeah, it looks like they have a few. At this rate he wouldn't be surprised if they stayed until morning, but the thought of not getting any sleep doesn't really bother him. He doesn't even feel very tired. Not yet, anyway. Or at least not physically so.

"My partner was taken to a psychiatric ward shortly after it happened. The woman we were supposed to protect was his wife."

It's a confession, really. He went behind his partner's back and he's sure this isn't lost on the teenager listening.

"He was my closest friend at the time, Heather. He taught me everything I know about being an agent." He'd betrayed him. He really had. "A man I really admired, driven over the edge."

He sighs, eyes drifting down at his hands again. He's quite literally holding hands with himself, thumb stroking lightly over a knuckle as he just listens to himself speak.

"He was the one who found us. I've been told it was a really bad scene." Small pause -- this is the real issue. "But I also believe he was the one who committed the original crime Caroline witnessed and is responsible for the stabbing of her and myself. He killed his own wife. Very nearly killed me. And I can't prove it or understand it."

To say it's affected him for years is an understatement. And though he freely tells this to her there's a bit of a void in the way he does it, like he can't really muster up the energy to be invested or emotional about what happened. Like he's just tired of it, especially that last part. He just wants to understand but he's pretty damn sure he won't be getting any answers.

Everything Windom had told him since the whole thing had been either cryptic or chilling or a nasty combination.

[foolishwren]

She listens in silence.

... That's a pretty big confession, and while it doesn't... shock her, necessarily (all things considered, Heather is a pretty hard person to shock), it does just make her... think.

Because christ.

This poor man.

The weariness in his tone is something she recognizes, almost intimately. It's how she feels about some of her OWN demons of the past, or rather feels about trying to talk about them. Like there's almost no point. Nothing will change, nothing will get easier.

But either way, when he finishes, her brows are creased upwards in empathy.

"... So your best friend hurt you too, huh."

Except it was possibly even worse, because the betrayal had come from someone current. Not... a distant childhood memory.

[tapestodiane]

"Yeah. I guess he did."

After that, he sits in silence for a long moment, eyes downcast. Mentally back in the safe house in Pittsburgh and hearing Windom laughing.

That had been jarring, if anything. The laughing. He could be making it up but the sound strikes a chord in him that makes him certain he really heard it.


But that also leads him back to the knowledge that it couldn't have really been Windom who did it. It had been him, no doubt, but at the same time it just didn't make any sense on a level beyond delusion, psychosis, psychopathy or schizophrenia.

(Hell. Cooper had only been in his twenties. Windom used to call him 'boy'. The idea of his ex-partner knifing him is still bizarre.)

He clears his throat, looks back up at her. He might as well ... since he's already talking.

"He recently escaped the hospital. That's my current case."

[foolishwren]

... Christ.

As she watches him, she can tell that in his head, he's there. .... Where 'there' is, she doesn't know. But she bites her lip for a moment... and then, after a brief deliberation, scoots a little closer to him, reaching out to close her hand on whichever arm of his is closest to her.

It's not much of a comfort... but it's a little more personal than anything she could actually say to that.

And a few hours ago... she wouldn't have done it.

[tapestodiane]

A fact that isn't lost on him, and he appreciates the gesture. There's a hint of a smile her way too - both a sort of 'thanks' and maybe one of those 'I'm alright' kind of things, which is obviously not all too true but still a front he's used to putting up.

Not that he's trying to do that right now. His guard is lowered considerably - how couldn't it be? - and even though he will admit to there being a small comfort in having told her about the whole thing (something he hasn't told anybody for a long time now), it's still something he will remain unwilling to touch. The guilt of what happened, and is happening, is just a little too much most of the time.

But taking the circumstances into account he'll still consider himself more or less okay. He's still fit for fight. And hell, right here, in Johto? He doesn't even have to worry. If Windom ever shows up he can deal with it then. Meanwhile he'll just keep trying to live for the moment.

So it's with that thought he sits up a little straighter, trying to will away the recalled blood and and breathing difficulties.

[foolishwren]

She doesn't leave her hand there for TOO long, although it lingers a little longer than he left his on her shoulder. For all her grievances and and reasons not to trust, she's always been a touchy-feely person, and hardship has always been a way to get her sympathy, no matter how cynical or critical she might be beforehand.

She does take it back eventually, though, laying her arm across her knees again.

"... Think that helped any?"

[tapestodiane]

"Marginally."

He's not going to lie - since he never really delved into his own emotional mess about it, it remains unresolved (and, in fact, is likely to stay that way for quite some time) ... and he's not the kind to vent or ramble, so there's still a ton he should probably say before he's actually helped by talking. But the word is spoken in a way that indicates that that amount is still more than expected, with a warm mildness that lets her know he appreciates it.

Because he does, really. He realizes that her pushing, the let-people-in, is probably good for him in the long run, despite his tendencies and expected continuation to not allow himself to do just that. That - and because she now knows about his big regret it's not something he'll have to pretend isn't there. And that's where the small comfort of the conversation is.

He almost shrugs. He never really shrugs.

"At least Windom's not here - that's his name, Windom Earle." And here we go - getting used to how he does this yet? "That's more than I can say for your case."

As in, think your talking helped any? He's more concerned with her than himself.

[foolishwren]

Baby steps, Coop. Baby steps.

Heather vented tonight because she needed to... and while she's more than happy to pull things out of people by hook or by crook, she won't push it too far. Not just yet. But she's got her foot in the door, now. In time...

"Windom Earle."

She repeats it softly... as though memorizing it. And she kind of is. She'll need to remember the sound of it... just in case this man ever shows up. She's already been given names by some others... names to watch out for, names to run from or mistrust right off the bat. This is another... one that is more than worthy of remembering, if Cooper's story was true. And she believes that it is.

"... It... yeah, it did. I think I just... needed to get that stuff off my chest. I hadn't... really told anybody yet. 'Cept for Dad. N'getting it out in the open helps make it look... not so bad, I guess. As it was in my head."

She looks up and gives Cooper a small, slightly-sheepish smile.

"I know Claudia won't hurt me here. OR Dad. ... She even said so."

And Heather trusts her. She may hate her, may want to kill her, may think that she's a fanatical psychopath... but she trusts her. When Claudia says something, she means it.

"... I just... need to deal with it. ... Myself. ... And the disappearances... well, there's nothing I can do about those. So... no point in worrying, right...?"

That last bit is cleverly aimed at Cooper in addition to being about herself.

[tapestodiane]

That is definitely a name to run from and if he ever shows up, Cooper hopes that's exactly what she'll do. Windom's ability to infiltrate lives of other people is uncanny, and ... a man with that amount of intelligence and evil in him is someone to stay away from.

When he listens to her talk, though, his expression eases up a little, the tension giving way for another small smile to mirror hers. Encouraging, if nothing else, and glad to see that she's okay.

He rarely doubts that she is, usually, but in light of everything she's told him it's just good to hear her more or less say it. It's there, between the lines, at least the way he interprets it - she'll be fine.

And he believes it, because she's a fighter. Moreso than he is.

"That's easier said than done. But I'd say you've got the right idea."

[foolishwren]

Heather doesn't like to run from things, not when she can help it. But she does like being prepared. So she'll be filing that name away under the mental cabinet in her head titled DO NOT WANT.

But Cooper's got the right idea about her.

Because if there's one philosophy that sums Heather up, it's that no matter how bad things get or how much she ISN'T okay at any given time... she will be eventually. Even in her moments of considerable doubt, she's never stopped thinking that-- not entirely.

She smiles. It's a small one, but holds her usual playfulness anyway.

"I usually do."

[tapestodiane]

"I don't doubt it."

He glances out the window, then stands, stretches, and offers her a hand.

"Now ... how about we clean the rest of this up and get some sleep?"

He doesn't have a watch, but he's willing to bet they've been there for two or three hours at this point. Two or three hours well spent - but considering it was meant to be a quick raid for some sugar and nothing else, sleep seems like a reasonable course of action.

After they do a quick wash of the dishes, of course. Responsible adult alert.

[foolishwren]

There were many things she'd done tonight that she probably would not have done a few months ago... or hell, even a few hours ago. Taking his offered hand is one of them.

But she does, and hauls herself upright on it, not waiting for him to pull back.

"I think I can get behind that idea..."

Already she felt calmer, less jittery and full of mental white noise. Sleep had been more or less out of the picture entirely. From where she stood now... it seemed like a fairly reachable goal.

She bends down to pick up her abandoned bowl and spoon, inspects it a little, and then runs the spoon across the bottom again to get the last dregs of multi-flavor melt that had pooled down there. Waste not, want not.

[tapestodiane]

He doesn't answer when he picks up his own bowl and spoon and runs some water over them by the sink, scraping lightly with the spoon along the bottom of the bowl to get rid of any dried-stuck ice cream residue. And after that it doesn't take him too long to locate a dishwasher - empty, so that will be a mysterious surprise for the kitchen staff in the morning - and puts them in.

Then he just leans against the counter and waits for her to finish up. There's some reflection on this little meeting in his mind as well, but mostly, it's quiet. Quiet and a little tired, but not in a bad way.

Mostly in that sleep is going to be welcome-way.

[foolishwren]

She doesn't take quite as long as he does once she takes her turn-- hastily rinsing it out without taking much effort to scrape the bottom. She's never liked doing dishes.

She sticks her bowl alongside his in the dishwasher before straightening up and declaring, "When they come in and check the dishwasher tomorrow, they're gonna be like '.... Ghosts.'"

[tapestodiane]

He nods, grins. He'd thought exactly the same thing and looks like he approves of her summary.

"And the best part is that it would be a reasonable explanation in this place."

[foolishwren]

And she grins back, already heading for the door..

Even if it's something small and silly, the fact that he would willingly engage in mischief is just so... well, unexpected. And amusing.

"... You know, I think I totally had the wrong impression of you before.

[tapestodiane]

"What impression was that?"

He asks with a soft curiosity when he follows her (the tiles are still pretty damn cold), though he's pretty sure he can guess what the answer is. Or at least what part of it will be.

[foolishwren]

She pauses halfway through the door, a sort of small smile on her face.

There's a lot of things she could say, actually. Just like there had been a lot of things she could have said about Phoenix, when she'd first started to realize HE was different from how she'd first pegged him, too.

But eventually she decides on, "... Just a really different one."

[tapestodiane]

Maybe she should stop trying to peg law enforcement figures altogether.

When she pauses, he doesn't really, hand lingering on the door frame for just a moment before he goes through it and throws her a smile. There's a new kind of friendship here, another seemingly unlikely one, but there's nothing wrong with those. Nothing at all.

He likes that answer, for the record.

"What floor are you on?"

[foolishwren]

That would be a good idea, wouldn't it?

We'll see what happens.

She follows along after him once he goes through, still smiling.

"Just the second."