1stwitness | (no subject)

"Are you trying to tell me that fictional characters - or what I would consider so - are among the patrons of Milliways?"

He follows, intrigued.

She shrugs, and gives him her best innocent look.

"Well? You never know with this place, do you?"

"It certainly does love to surprise us", he agrees wryly.

"That's one way to put it."

She may be thinking back to the fact that her significant other has two different incarnations running around, and only one of them really knows who she is.

She walks in silence for a bit, one hand reaching out occasionally to touch the shelf.

He falls into the mostly comfortable silence as well, trailing her footsteps.

"Has all been well with you, of late?"

"What?" She sounds surprised that he'd ask. "Oh, yes. I suppose."

She glances back to him, an apologetic smile on her face.

"I try not to think about it, but it catches me at odd moments."

"So it does", he returns, mirroring the smile with a touch of sadness. "I do know how that can go, indeed."

She just returns that look for a quiet moment.

"You're still in the midst of your troubles. Makes me feel like a bit of a fool for even talking about mine."

"Yours are no less because mine exist", he says firmly. "I would listen, if you feel a need or desire to talk."

"Yes, but mine are all dealt with for the most part. Aside from the obvious 'coming to terms with the fact that I really am dead'. It's just going to take time..."

Her voice trails off.

"And he's not really willing to discuss it. He's a man's man, and talking about these things just isn't his cup of tea, so to speak."

"I see. And he is the one with whom it would be most important to you to discuss it."

"Yes. Yes."

She sighs, a little frustrated.

"He's the one person in the whole of creation that it's important to talk about this with. Only he gets to go back to his world, and forget everything that happens in the bar. And I do mean everything."

"But", Ichabod says carefully, "he does remember it again on his return? You do not have to explain everything to him each time?"

"He does. Yes, he does. But it -- he's not -- Ichabod, imagine coming home from a hard day at work, only to discover that everything you've done, all the good you feel like you've effected on the world, imagine remembering it's all a lie."

She sighs.

"It's a crushing weight to carry. And he seems to want to carry that burden alone."

"Not a lie, I think, if he helps those working with him - but I know, that would not help a great deal. If he is that sort of man, though, the man's man as you said... he might feel it is the only appropriate thing to do, to carry it alone."

"Yes, I agree that he's helping, but not in the fashion he believes he should. He goes through that door, and believes he's the Sheriff of his patch, grinding his bootheel into the faces of thugs and criminals. I'm not even sure he knows what he's supposed to be doing with his charges, given recent experiences. I suspect he thinks things will just -- sort themselves out on their own."

"He may well think it's appropriate not to speak of it, but the last time he pretended nothing was wrong, it almost cost us everything. And on top of all that, I don't want to be a constant reminder of what he really is. I don't want him look at me and see the woman who found his grave and dug up his bones with her bare hands."

It's a lot to deal with, and he may have taken her thumb out of the dam.

It was what he was trying to do, he'll live with it.

"But with him remembering, as he must", he says gently, "the only thing that can change that perception - if he does indeed have it - is time."

Unless she were to leave, but he won't suggest that. It would never be the right thing to do.

She nods, answering him with a huge sigh.

"I know that. I do. I just have to be patient. He'll come around, eventually. He always does."

Not always, not without sharp kick to the backside anyway. And she'd never leave him. She only hopes he knows that, somehow.

"Patient and persistent", he adds with a faint smile. "Keep trying, or you will never know when the time is right for success."

"It is a wound that only time can heal," she says, and despite her smile, she sounds tired. "But we don't walk away from the people we love just because things get difficult, do we?"

It's not really a question.

Ahead of them, it's getting brighter again.

"Never." He means that absolutely. "If, sometimes, we may need support to remain."

She turns her head to look at him, and gives him a genuine smile. He gets it. It's so good to have a friend who gets it, after all this time.

"I've got your back if you've got mine."

"Then we have an agreement."

He smiles back.

She nods, and turns back down the aisle.

"Bloody hell."

They're back at the main reading room, emerging at the opposite end of the table from where they left.

She laughs, turning back to him. "Can you believe this?"

Ichabod chuckles, adding a note to his map.

"Well, it is consistency of a sort."