route_1065 | five days after black and red collide

Entry tags:

five days after black and red collide

Who: Dale Cooper and Heather Mason
Where: The Ecruteak City Dinerrrr
When: December 14th
Summary: After those three days that were lost a lot of people probably had weird dreams about things they can't for the life of them remember. Coop and Heather are two of these people. And they've got some things to talk about. _{(..or as Kit excellently summarized it, this is AWKWARD CANON ENCOUNTERS: THE THREAD.)}
Rating: Oh umm, PG for possibly triggery conversation?
Log:

It's absolutely freezing out and the snow is falling thick and heavy when Dale Cooper makes his way to the Ecruteak City Diner, jacket collar folded up against the wind and hands buried deep in his pockets for what little warmth there is to be found there. He's not particularly used to this kind of winter despite having grown up with something resembling it - he blames having lived in California for the past nine years where the winters are, honestly, quite pitiful attempts at everything the season is meant to be.

Especially when compared to Johto. Good old sparkling completely-covered-in-snow Johto. The weatherman had announced a break in the persistent precipitation yesterday, but today's weather is another prime example of just how trustworthy those people are. The weather gods must be at odds with them. Either that or the deities have a not-so-secret penchant for practical jokes.

Needless to say he's cold and shivering a little once he enters the diner, gratefully shutting out the wind and swirling snow behind him as the little chime above the door welcomes him inside. It's warm in there - warm and quiet. Doesn't look like a lot of people felt like braving the weather to get a cup of coffee better than what the Inn can offer (which really isn't all that good, in his opinion, entirely too mild) but Cooper is a man of habit ... or standard, if you will, and if he's going to start the day with coffee it better be a (damn) good cup of the stuff.

And that's what he's set on, really. He takes his coat off even as he walks through the area to one of his favourite booths: by the windows, just a little secluded, comfortable seats. He's got a few things to ponder and brought one of his notebooks, but his first priority is to allow himself to just melt into the seat for a second there.

...and man that is sweet. But what will be even sweeter is coffee. And possibly something sugary.

Waaaiiiitress? c:

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He gives her an apologetic smile and does keep that mild concern about him .... UNTIL her very last comment, which actually has him making a face. You know, the typical face face, the oh ew-kind that's probably much more common in children than adults.

"I'd still take that over a fish", and it's in a kind of handwave statement but he still sounds very decisive on that particular point.

Never drink coffee that has been anywhere near a fish, as he'd specifically instructed Diane. Because that is a bad idea on all accounts. He could taste that fish for hours. It had been a nightmare.

But he does perk up when he realizes that the girl is still a waitress and is thusly supposed to take his orders because he's a paying customer, and he leans back to smile at her.

"How about a bear claw, while you're at it."

... it's amazing how quickly he can de-age when it comes to food, really. That probably came out sort of like if he'd been a teasingly bossing around older brother kind of person.

The dark, unwelcome thoughts that had come drifting back into her mind towards the end there aside, she looked back over her shoulder at him as she'd started to turn away from the table, brow raised.

A... fish?

... 'Kay Cooper.

But the second comment gets a smirk.

Oh, she sees what you did there. She COULD get on his case for not using the magic word, buuuut well, he is a paying customer. Not like Henry. Who keeps on trying to bum free food off of her because she works there.

"Gotcha. One bearclaw, coming right up."

She swipes a dry napkin across the table to collect whatever nastiness had spilled there during all that coffee-pouring and shaker-emptying, then disappears into the back with the coffeepot for a moment.

And while she's gone he'll bring Diane up to speed. He doesn't tell her much, just the gist of it. Alessa and Heather are or were the same person, remind me to fill you in on the details.

Not that she's likely to ever remind him of anything here, and he knows that, but he likes the idea that she will.

Pressing a button and putting the little recorder back into the coat pocket he proceeds to literally twiddle his thumbs as he looks out the window. He thinks about Heather, Alessa and fire because it's worth to think about and because he'd rather think about that than the Red Room.

She reappears a moment or so later with what seems to be a fresh (fishless) pot of coffee and a plate with a couple of donuts on it. One is the requested bearclaw and the other, what looks like the Johto equivalent of a Boston Cream.

She sits back down and plops the plate down on the table before producing a clean mug and pouring herself a clean cup. Without salt or pepper. Because really, those just don't go with coffee.

"There. Enjoy. ... But the chocolate one's mine."

They really, really don't and Cooper is very grateful that the coffee is normal. And black. He scoots his own cup in her direction in a quiet request for a refill as he picks the bearclaw up with an easy "Thanks".

Looking very happy, no less. It's been a while since he had one of these. And he loves them so he bites into it aaaand there's that wide smile that's reserved for damn fine things.

Yes. Good.

C:

"I would pick this kind of bearclaw over chocolate any time", he says after swallowing that mouthful and setting it down again to go for a complimentary sip of coffee (assuming she DID pour him any but she's so far perfectly adept at her job). And hey, it's true, because his favourite is jelly anyway.

"Speak for yourself, this thing's got cream filling."

She does indeed pour him a cup of coffee, before setting the pot down and reaching over to snag a veritable handful of creamers and sugar cubes from the little pot at the end of the table. After all that, she's in the mood for sugar too.

Oh come on Heather, coffee is to be had black.

He sips his coffee joyfully and continues to eat the bearclaw in silence, the lull of the conversation natural and to him rather comfortable, even if he does look at Heather slightly differently. With new awareness comes new perception, after all, but she looks okay.

She also looks like she's thinking but he doesn't take specific note of that right now, because so is he.

HEY SHUT UP MR. SWEET TOOTH, DON'T JUDGE ME.

She doesn't find the lull particularly uncomfortable either-- and although she it probably doesn't even occur to her to think about, it's one of those things to be thankful for. That the silences after that conversation could still be okay, and not totally awkward.

But there's still something on her mind, and much like that unpleasant metaphorical fog that's been hanging over her ever since she woke up after the amnesia (in fact, because it's part of that very same fog), it's not letting go.

So once she's finished the pastry and downed half the cup or so, she sets it down and sort of clasps her hands on the table in front of her.

"Hey, Coop."

He looks up and finishes the last of his own pastry, but wipes his fingers on a napkin before giving her his full attention.

"Yes, Heather?"

It might sound a little like a teacher waiting for a student to ask a question but he says it in a conversational, slightly curious tone. Anyone who's addressed him like that have had something more or less significant to say.

Well, she's gonna aim for as insignificant as possible, judging by how casual her tone is. Not that it's too easy to sound entirely casual after the conversation they'd just had-- but she does a pretty good job at it.

Easy smile, shrugged shoulders and all.

She doesn't want it to sound like she's asking for any reason other than pure, simple curiosity. After all, he'd once compared her to a bird famed for its curiosity, right?

"I was just thinkin' about something you said awhile back... like, way back. We were talking about crazy past life stuff and you said some weird thing about fire. It was like..."

She wrinkles her nose and sort of gestures vaguely, like she's having a hard time remembering it.

Except that she isn't. Her memory was refreshed over the weekend, and even with the amnesia, the image of those words scrawled on the floor-- and the one who scrawled them-- are as clear as day.

"... 'Fire walk with me' or something. What'd you mean by that, anyway?"

His gaze sharpens on her right away.

With any other person, she probably could have fooled them, at least somewhat. Especially considering that fire and 'crazy past life stuff' had just been touched on. But he's fine-tuned to notice the little cues and she used one too many vague words, didn't glance her usual way when trying to remember something, and there's definitely something hiding in her face that means she's asking for something other than simple curiosity.

Much like he caught her off guard with asking about Alessa, she certainly caught him off guard this time, and it makes him a little wary.

It's not that he's got any reason to distrust her. He knows he let the phrase slip back then, but the thing is that it's an important one and the more he thinks about the verse, the more he gets to the core of it, the more it unsettles him.

He hadn't thought about it for a long time now. Except ... except for the lost three days and right after. Right now.

And as he met Alessa ... he can start to assume that maybe she met one or two people from his life.

He thinks about that in the span of two seconds it takes him to answer her, tone measured but with a clear suspicious edge. He's not buying her act.

"I didn't think you were listening. Why the sudden interest?"

Edited 2011-12-19 04:22 (UTC)

Ah, Cooper. Nothing gets past you, does it?

Needless to say, she notices his instant reaction. It's hard not to.

She stares back over at him innocently, shrugging.

"I dunno, it just stuck with me. Back then I didn't... you know, really trust you that much. Figured since that's changed... might as well ask what was up with that, right?"

Lies spring easily to her after so many high-school years of being a little shit-- although even she knows he'll probably see through it. Still, though, it's not a total lie...

Some things do, but most things don't, and because of the subject, especially not this.

And yeah, of course he sees through that one. It's even more transparent than her first attempt at being smooth because he knows she knows he noticed there was something more to the question. If she wasn't so set on maintaining the honestly-just-curious image, he thinks she would have reacted with a kind of "hey, what's with you? I was just wondering!"

His eyes narrow a little as he eyes her. He's not honestly sure why his reaction is this defensive, but those particular four words and where he's heard and seen them ... it's not the kind of thing he'll talk about too easily.

"You're asking for a reason, Heather. Drop the act. I'd prefer it if you were upfront to me about this."

It's not aggressive, but there is an impatience in his voice. It's like he's back in an interrogation room.

With Bobby Briggs, maybe. Or James Hurley.

Edited 2011-12-19 05:00 (UTC)

... Yikes.

It's the first time in awhile that he's sounded... interrogative with her.

Her own automatic reaction is a defensive one as well. She straightens up, frowning at him. It's a sort of resentful look-- because yeah. He totally just called her on it, and she knows it.

She's not done yet, though.

It would seem that even NOW, there's still some things she doesn't want to admit to Cooper... although for different reasons than before.

"Hey, no need to get snappy. I just... it stuck with me, all right? Fire's kind of... a thing. With me. Can't you just tell me what it means?"

"It was found written in blood on a murder scene."

Which he throws at her to ... well, shock her into fessing up.

"As far as I know it has nothing to do with you and if it does, I want you tell me."

There's an unpsoken now at the end of it and he looks at her in a way that's best described as intense. The way he's trying to be the leader, adult, interrogator, cop, whatever right now comes from both his uneasiness and need to be in charge of it. And by extension, her - at least if she's going to keep her game up.

He just really wants her to cough it up so he can take a look at it, examine it and see what the meaning is. Because, guess what? He's pretty damn sure she didn't listen and wouldn't think to remember those words from his murmur alone.

And that is a pretty worrying thought because where else would she have heard them?

... O-oh. Well then.

The sullen look disappears and is replaced with a sort of wide-eyed expression. If shocking her into 'fessing up was indeed his intent, it's doing its job. Because she hadn't expected that. Even with the phrase she'd seen written being the same one that he had uttered, she hadn't... truly thought that it... or the terrifying thing that she'd seen ... had anything to do with Cooper.

If anything? She'd thought it might have been some... weird arcane phrase or something that he knew the meaning to.

This paints it in an entirely new light, and it's not one she likes.

Her first response is a rather disappointing (if attitude-less, at the very least) "... Oh."

She doesn't say anything else right off the bat, but her expression alone probably tells him that wasn't what she expected-- or WANTED-- to hear.

Nothing to do with her...

Well, she'd be perfectly happy and willing to believe that, if that voice hadn't... told her things. She didn't remember the specifics, not all of them anyway. But they'd been things no one had known, no one COULD have known.

It had said her name.

And even then, maybe-- maybe-- she'd have been able to assume it was some nightmare, some vision of a figure from someone else's world and life that just happened to be a particularly nasty prankster.

But she had seen it before.

And that meant... well, she didn't know what it meant.

Just that suddenly, the things she was able to remember from that weekend (... and the weekend almost a whole year before) were very worrying.

"... What... kind of murder?"

Her tone is still fairly casual, but there's no hiding the uncertainty in it now.

Edited 2011-12-19 05:40 (UTC)

He notices. He refuses to jump to conclusions but he is fearing she'll say she's seen the man (men?) that committed that murder.

"It was a young girl. Beaten to death."

He doesn't want to say much more than that but his eyes and tone have both softened some. It's reinforced by his eyes drifting for a second.

It never does get much easier, his job. And there'd always been something particularly striking with the murder of Laura Palmer ... something that could be felt even beyond the obvious reasons that set the case apart.

But it's been a while since he's thought about it - again, with the exception of those three days and the ones immediately following it. These two days. His thoughts about the case are a just a little bit slower than he would have liked but it still doesn't take a lot for him to dig up the memories, the images ... the town in itself.

With its firs and lakes and all too many crimes for a town that looks so welcoming on the surface.

And when he looks back to Heather it's with the kind of look that really just says, do you see?

As if it couldn't get any worse.

Even without any of the rest, hearing about the murder of a young girl is bad enough. It hits spots with easily-opened scars.

She swallows. Hard.

Oh shit.

Oh, shit.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.

Around that point, a passing old man on his way out back into the cold drops his cigarette in the ashtray at the table behind them. Semi-automatically, Heather stands up, resting one knee on her seat as she does so, to pick up the ash tray, getting ready to empty it.

Although her back is partway turned to Cooper, her growing discomfort is probably obvious.

"Did you ever-- ... who was the killer? ... Why'd they do it?"

That name... what was that name he had asked her about, back then? He had asked her if she knew anything...

That's a tricky question to answer and Cooper is well aware of how people typically percieve possession. Given the nature of Heather's own story, he's sure she wouldn't dismiss the possibility, but that doesn't mean he's still not sure what to say.

Leland Palmer did it, but it wasn't his doing.

Not that he's going to let her know about either him or BOB that easily though. Partly because as any good lawman he's got it firmly ingrained in him to not reveal too much information about the nature of a case - even a closed one.

Second, there's something important she's not saying.

"I'm not sure." And that's the truth. He doesn't know. "Heather ... what is it you're not telling me?"

Kinder, now. Asking instead of demanding. He can tell there's something really really wrong here and he's getting increasingly alarmed.

Yeah, possession is more than in the range of things that Heather doesn't actually have to suspend her disbelief too far to accept. After all... similar had happened in Silent Hill. Probably more than once...

But his reply does little to alleviate her worries.

Picking up the ashtray, she turns back around, picking the still-smoking cigarette out of it absent-mindedly. Her mind is clearly elsewhere.

"I, uh..."

She doesn't want to say anything.

After what he had asked her before on that day long ago... Even if she didn't entirely remember it, she has a feeling now that it must have been important. And he's right. She hadn't listened. Oh, sure, she figured it had been significant somehow... to him. But in the same way that every kid thought that car crashes, cancer, O.D.ing, or pregnancy were things that happened to OTHER people and not to them... she'd blown it off, the same way she and so many other classmates blew off health classes and PSAs and scolding lectures from parents.

Except now somehow something HAD happened and even worse, she has a feeling it had happened BEFORE he'd even said anything, and she doesn't want to say anything, even though she probably should and aw fuck this was just so screwed-up.

"It's not... huge or anything--"

Except that it might be.

It had said her name.

"Just... I might've, uh..."

It had called her a murderer.

"Seen... something, which might've... been, uh. Related."

And there's that sinking feeling he'd just been waiting for, and he decides to just ... ask. And he wants her to say no.

"Did you meet a one armed man or a man with long grey hair?"

Those were the ones he'd heard the words from. He knows both Laura and Leland had also talked about fire, but MIKE and BOB were the ones who seemed to have the connection to the verse.

And those were the only two who'd cited the entire thing. Through the darkness of futures past ...

A verse that applies to him much more than he knows.

She had just been going to mention the part where she had found FIRE WALK WITH ME scribbled on the diner floor in red, and see what he said to it. Gauge his reaction and then decide whether or not to bring up the rest. To bring up the voice, and the... thing it had probably belonged to.

But then he comes right out and says it.

The first part of that sentence is just fine.

She's never met anybody with one arm, much less recently.

And then the second part comes.

And she just turns to stare at him like he had just casually mentioned that a spider-monkey had once crawled out of his left nostril.

That alone is probably enough to tell him that, no, the answer to his question is not 'no'.

But just in case it isn't...

"... Who... who's the man with the grey hair?"

Shit.

He stares back at her for a second without saying anything. He's thought about it before but this is the first time it really, truly seems significant...

She really does resemble Teresa Banks.

"He's very dangerous", he says after that tense moment, and there's a new urgency in his eyes when he continues. "Did he do anything to you?"

He might be a little vague on the details but it's not because he doesn't want to answer her questions -- he just really needs to make sure she's safe first. Or as safe as she can be if BOB's revealed himself to her.

He doesn't know a lot about that ... what? Entity? Spirit? but there's a building feeling of dread that puts pressure on his throat when he thinks about him. (It. That.)

Especially when he thinks about BOB and Heather.

When he thinks about BOB in Johto.

She has NEVER heard or seen him this urgent before, and truth be told, right now that almost scares her more than the memories that caused the conversation to veer in this direction in the first place.

At the first thing he says, she actually lets out a small, high, semi-hysterical laugh.

"No shit!"

He had talked. He had talked IN HER HEAD. He had known things.

And, in that brief moment in which he had started across the room at her... she'd known. It was plain as day that he was dangerous. She'd somehow known without even really looking at him. He'd been... familiar somehow.

But at the question, she sort of shakes her head a little bit. Because... because he hadn't. Not technically. ... Unless you'd counted the first time... because that's been coming back to her. In disturbingly vivid flashes.

"Not... really..."

And then she shakes herself.

Because physical or not, he HAD done something. It counted! Telling her those things... threatening... that counted. It did.

Suddenly determined, she looks back at Cooper, brows furrowed.

"What. What IS he. Tell me now."

It's not a question. It's a demand. Because she's fucking scared now and when Heather Mason is scared of something, she wants to know how to kill it.

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