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Location: Southern Plateau - Pacific Royal Campus
Welcome Home #1.105: Smoke Signals
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Banjo snapped awake. His head dripped with perspiration, which hadn't just confined itself to his brow.
He looked over at Calliope who had managed to keep sleeping peacefully, despite his dramatic awakening. Banjo ran his hands through his hair, and over his ears, before pinching the bridge of his nose with his forefingers and letting out a deep sigh.
Again. Tonight of all nights. Another bloody nightmare.
Banjo pushed his frustration and rising angst down, and decided the best place to let it go was outside of the tent. No need to ruin her sleep as well.
Carefully he slid around her, planting one foot on the floor and lifting himself over her, watching her whilst holding his breath until his other foot safely found the floor.
Banjo rustled through his belongings on the floor, making sure his cigarettes and lighter were in his shorts pocket, before pulling them on and quietly unzipping the tent’s flap, unveiling the night’s sky. Outside it was spitting and threatening to turn worse, but he needed the open air so he walked out into the brisk open air.
A few strides away, he popped a single durry from his packet of Winfield Blues, and holding it in his leeward side, lit up, with a hand sheltering it from the weather. Taking a first deep drag, his mouth twitched, and he sniffed in agitation.
That’d be bloody right. A night away from one of those daft big beds, a night where I can curl up with Calli, and the bloody nightmares come back so I still can’t get a proper sleep.
It was infuriating. Just when all was right with everything else. Things couldn’t just go smoothly.
He sat on the grass and hugged his legs whilst the dart hung from his lip.
And the worst thing was, there wasn’t anything he could do about them, or properly explain it to anybody else.
Aurora had let herself toss and turn for a while, hoping sleep would wash over her like the waves on the shoreline, but it wasn’t looking like rest would come to her easily tonight. Her mind was restless, a jumble of thoughts that she had attempted to unravel to no avail.
She sat up and looked over to the other side of the dimly lit tent, watching as Lorcán slept soundly. The redhead admired him quietly, studying each slope and curve of his upper body, memorizing the lines of his tattoos, his scars. She imagined what it would be like to fall asleep in his warm embrace, tucked underneath one of his strong arms.
Sure, it was a little bit creepy to stare at him like this. But in her defense, it was the only opportunity she had to do so without anyone questioning her. But as she looked at him, her thoughts drifted back to the moment they shared earlier. The things he said, the way he made her feel, the fire in his eyes she hadn’t seen before. It was confusing, she was confused. She was also scared. Oh, so scared.
Maybe some fresh air would do her some good.
Silently, Aurora slipped on her shoes before ducking out of the tent. There was a noticeable chill outside in comparison to the warmth inside, and she shivered as she felt the temperature shift, along with the small drops of rain that had started to fall. It might have been late Summer, but the nights on the island ran cold. Well, at least by her standards - she was an Arizona girl, after all.
Popping back inside, she spotted her bag on the far end of the space, but it’d be far too loud to rummage through her things to find her sweatshirt; she couldn’t risk waking Lorcán up. She glanced to his side of the tent and noticed his hoodie was within grasp, laying on top of his backpack. The redhead picked it up, attempting to not make any noise and headed back outside. She’d apologize later for stealing it but something told her he wasn’t going to mind that much.
She pulled the sweatshirt on, inhaling citrus and smoke as she covered her head with the hood. She was practically swimming in the oversized garment, but something about it made her feel secure, safe. Aurora began to walk away from the tent and towards the cliff’s edge, but movement out of the corner of her eye made her stop in her tracks. She turned, spotting Banjo crouched down on the grass, taking a drag from his cigarette.
Seems she wasn’t the only one who evaded sleep.
The redhead didn’t hesitate to make her way over and sat down next to him, wrapping her arms around her bent knees. “Just one of those nights, huh.”
“Mmm. Another one.” He replied. He looked over at her and caught sight of the red of Lorcán’s hoodie and smiled to himself as he turned away and took another drag.
Good. Looks like those two cleaned up whatever was on his plate. He thought to himself. Curling and uncurling his hands to hopefully stop the shaking and jitters.
He turned back once he was satisfied he’d straightened himself out enough.
“I’d offer ya one, but you can’t out-jump the big ‘C’.” He showed her, before pocketing the pack.
Aurora shook her head, “You know I don’t smoke, Banjo,” She noticed the way he had moved his fingers a moment prior, seemingly trying to lessen the physical reaction of whatever had gone on inside his head whilst he slept. Although he tried to hide it, the motion didn’t get past the redhead; she knew how bad thoughts could manifest physically. “Calli still sleeping?”
“I know… but it’s that weird thing where it’s rude to not offer ya one, but at the same time I know you wouldn’t want one, and nor should ya. I’ve got a lot of things where it’s just going through the motions.” His hands gestured from side to side, as if directed by the path of social niceties.
“You know me… Always on the frontline battlin’ rudeness, fightin’ for social decorum.” He chuckled to himself at the absurdity of his own statement.
“And yeah. That she is. I take it Matchstick is too?” He took another puff.
The redhead couldn’t help but laugh softly at the nickname he had given Lorcán. “Like a rock.” She answered, holding her palm out facing upwards, feeling the droplets of rain hit her skin one after the other. “I’ve been up all night, never even fell asleep in the first place.” She glanced back at the blonde, a small smile gracing her lips. “And here I was all worried I’d wake him up.”
“Ahh… so not the dreams y’self this time?”
He thought for a moment. So something had wound her up then. Or maybe he was too quick to assume they’d ironed everything out.
“I noticed he took it pretty bad at the Assembly thing earlier today. But that all got straightened out earlier, didn’t it? So what’s on your mind, because you seemed pretty down earlier on over grub? Wasn’t going to say anything, because you looked like you didn’t want attention drawn to it at the time.” He asked, deconstructing what he’d seen throughout the day.
Aurora sighed, letting the sides of her mouth fall downwards, her grin turning into a more neutral expression. “You saw that, did you?” Just as she was observant, so was he. Out of all of her friendships, the one that she and Banjo had felt more familial than anything. They supported each other like siblings, leaned on each other as few others understood their common denominators. “We had an… interesting day.” To boil down the events of the day to one adjective was a vast understatement, but she couldn’t bring herself to elaborate at that moment. Instead she raised an eyebrow curiously.
“Can I ask you something?” She didn’t give him the chance to answer, plowing forward with her question before she lost the nerve, “Were you… scared to let Calli in? How did you know you were ready for that after everything?” There weren’t many others she could be candid with when it came to the subject.
“Ahhh.” He said in recognition, rocking back and drawing a second dart from the pack, before stubbing the first into a blackened palm.
“Doesn’t apply, I’m afraid. She was everythin’ I already wanted, I was just too afraid to ask. Fortunately for me, I didn’t have to.” He reminisced back to this same plain five years earlier.
“But yeah… because I probably wouldn’t have. Between you and me, I thought there wasn’t much point and I’d never have a shot, til it just happened.” He lit up the second, before snapping the zippo shut, pocketing it.
“Everywhere I bounced around, all the foster places, boarding schools, and such. Well, boarding schools tend to be single sex, or at least segregated in some way, so I didn’t exactly have a whole lot of experience with the fairer sex before I got here, and I never really stayed put in any one place long in the few places which were co-ed. And I was new, weird and wild. Didn’t exactly draw a lot of attention in that way, not that I’m aware of.”
“So here, with Calli? That was pretty new. I’ve never really been afraid to be myself, but.” He said, taking a draw. “I mean… I can’t hide me forever, so what’s the point in tryin’? So no. I didn’t have much fear in lettin’ her in once it came to that. All of my fear was gone the second the door was open. If you catch my drift. And she did that for me.” He shrugged.
“I got incredibly lucky.” He said, adding another puff to accentuate.
The redhead watched as the smoke from Banjo’s cigarette curled, only slightly visible in the air as the raindrops fell. She nodded slowly as she made an effort to internalize everything he had just spoken. It wasn’t the answer she was anticipating, she hadn’t expected the boy to feel that way about it all. Kids like them didn’t plant roots, it was too challenging to see them be ripped up over and over again. But hearing the blonde’s sentiments seemed like a small sliver of hope, should she choose to go down that path. Still, the voice in the back of her head piped up, “And now? Are you afraid that you’ll lose her just like you did the others?”
Banjo stuck his tongue in his cheek considering the question. Thought about who was asking it and why.
“I think sometimes I’m helped by the fact I’ve got no memory of them at all. Abandonment issues and all.” He said.
“Harder to miss what I don’t remember ever havin’.”
“Doesn’t help with these fuckin’ nightmares though.” He said, poking at his own head with a few hard taps. “I’m damn near certain it’s from something back then, but the memories… that time’s swiss cheese.”
“It’s frustrating, I can get everythin’ bloody right in my life. Everything going perfect, and I mean PERFECT right now. And then this bullshit happens again. And I can’t do anything about it, because I don’t know what the Hell it’s about.” Anger had rushed back to the surface, and his hands trembled slightly with agitation.
“And they don’t even make any sense to anyone to be frightened about, when I try to explain ‘em! But I’m terrified in them. I think it’s because I was there, and knew what it meant– but now it’s all just… Space. Empty space and residual terror. Faaaarked.”
He stopped and realised he’d deviated too far from the question.
“Shit… sorry for the self pity party. Nah, short of bein’ worried she could do much better and ditching me, I’m not too scared of losin’ her. And with the way she’s been talkin’ lately, even that’s been seeming unlikely.” He smiled, at the thought of the woman in the tent.
“I put in the effort. She puts in the effort. That’s the magic to it. Simple trick. And always think of it as effort and not work. Work’s a begrudgin’ thing. Effort though… Effort’s just give-a-shit. Effort’s just energy, at least to me. And I can get that whenever I care enough.”
“I catch m'self lookin’ at, or listening to her sometimes and–”
He pulled the smoke from his mouth and turned and looked at it for a while. His mind a thousand miles away. Before he caught himself and took another drag, before continuing.
“Well, I just can't see ‘give-a-shit’ ever bein’ an issue.”
Aurora knew that was where their stories deviated. Where Banjo had no memories, she had plenty, too many, of her past. She was in agreement with him that it was easier when you couldn’t remember and didn't have to think about what you never knew. Clearly, it was an issue the redhead needed to tackle on her own. She empathized with his nightmares, however. She knew how debilitating they could be, how helpless they could make you feel, especially when everything else felt in your control.
“Don’t apologize,” She placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, “I get it, truly. Just because someone else might not find it terrifying doesn’t invalidate your fear. It’s not the situation itself, but how the situation makes you feel. Anything is scary if you believe it to be.” Aurora explained, “Doesn’t matter if it doesn’t make sense in the traditional way.”
A small smile returned to her face as he talked about Calli. He was so in love, and it was obvious. The redhead was happy for him, for them, and glad that they had found each other. But the same envy from earlier crept up, now accompanied by the weight of what had happened in the tent with Lorcán. She could be as happy as them, if she tried. But the questions she had asked didn’t seem to have clear answers. Turning the subject back to him instead of continuing on with her inquiries, she nudged him playfully with her arm. “Sounds like you’ll be buying a ring soon, Banj.”
He smiled to himself, internalising the question. His mind raced through a half dozen ‘Get Rich Quick’ schemes he could run to pull some cash for a ring together. The smile turned to a smirk, and he took another drag before answering.
“Quite possibly.”
The line of questions. She’d been beating around the bush looking for advice to hopefully be of some help with Lorcán, of which he’d been able to provide all too little. Maybe summary statements?
“I don’t really remember my parents at all, but everything else since then is still solid. A lot of pain, sure. But while I didn’t feel hurt by being dragged around, yanked away from every place I’d been very soon after we’d just got there. It’s mostly because I just got numb to it. For the most part, I didn’t get too close to the other kids, figuring I wouldn’t be around long. Found my own ways to entertain myself along the way.”
“Bein’ numb isn’t a good or permanent solution, ‘Raw. And even if it were, I suspect it’s too late for that anyway, in this case. Let me ask you something. Hypothetical: Say the Foundation up and decided to segregate the entire school by sex tomorrow. Picked all us blokes up and whisked us away, made us form new class teams, and oh… you’re in Myotis and he’s Canis. The New team lunchtimes are set at different times, and they brought in a strict curfew at close of school every day.”
“How would you feel?” He’d smoked the second durry down to the filter, and so stubbed it out once again in a black palm.
“Because unless I’m very much mistaken… that’s your answer right there.” He reached into his pocket and shook the remnants of his carton. Only three to go. He thought better of saving them and pocketed the pack.
Aurora’s face fell as Banjo presented the scenario, the “what ifs” of it all popping in her head. But, her eyebrows raised back up in a panic as he mentioned teams, not having indicated otherwise that the questions had any relation to a specific person. It seemed like everyone around her today was picking up clues that she was not intentionally putting down - first Harper, now Banjo. Not to mention, the words that Lorcán spoke continued to bounce around her mind, which wasn’t helping her train of thought.
How would she feel? Like a piece of her was missing.
The redhead exhaled audibly, shaking her head. So much doubt clouded her judgment, even though the answer seemed simple and straightforward. “Hypothetically,” She looked back towards her tent, where Lorcán lay sleeping, the only indication she was willing to provide without uttering the words out loud, “It would be… difficult.” The rain began to fall slightly heavier, more noticeable in the evening air. “I don’t want to be alone again, Banjo.”
“So, if you’re scared of bein’ hurt… and you’re already at a stage where it’d hurt…” The rain had picked up, matted his hair some, and was running down his shoulders and back.
“Seems to me, you’re already takin’ the risk without reapin’ all of the rewards.” He rocked back and forth with his arms around his knees.
“Like I said, there’s your answer.”
“But that’s just the lawyer in me. ‘Never make a point you’re not willin’ to belabour.’” He offered a warmer grin, getting to his feet.
“Now hold back, I’ve got to get this crap out me lungs.”
His breath quickened and halted, and his body turned blacker than the night’s sky around them. A much smaller corona surrounded him, due to the lack of available light, and his flesh re-knitted. His lungs and system cleaned itself out, and his synapses flared and sparked out all of the effects of the nicotine. He held a few seconds before reverting back to his usual appearance.
Rain droplets had supercooled from the effort and turned to frost on his shoulders. He smiled, as his thoughts once again returned to the woman in his tent.
Aurora sat with Banjo’s words, letting them reverberate while he used his abilities to effectively undo the damage of the cigarettes he had smoked. He had a point, she had already taken the risk by forming the connection in the first place, which only added to her conundrum. But how was she supposed to know that their innocent friendship would turn into something more? It was too late now to save herself apparently. She was going to get hurt either way.
The rain continued, thunder looming in the distance. The redhead looked to Banjo, inclining her head towards his tent. “You should try and go back to sleep. There may not be hope for me getting some rest, but that doesn’t mean you can’t.”
“I reckon I might.” He said, looking back at the tent. If nothing else, it had been good to puzzle himself over someone else’s business, rather than dwelling on what was between his own ears. He’d originally planned to come out and analyze what he’d heard from Alyssa on the Foundation, but this had worked too. Probably saved him some smokes too.
“You should probably head on in as well. Seems this is pickin’ up, but I’m betting it’s a damn sight warmer in your tent, than here. Yours comes with a space heater.” He stuck his tongue out.
“I’d feel bloody terrible if you wound up comin’ down with pneumonia or somethin’ as well, on my account.” He reached a hand out to help her to her feet. “So head in and see ya tomoz?”
The corners of Aurora’s lips curved upwards ever so slightly. “That's why I keep him around.” She joked as she stood, sticking her hands in her front pocket and looking up at the sky, “Hopefully this storm clears through before the morning.” The girl took a few steps towards her tent before hesitating and turning back to the blonde. “Hey, Banjo?” She called back to him, “Thank you.”
Banjo unzipped his tent, and hearing ‘Raw's thanks, raised his brow. He hadn't anticipated there being any more to say. Deciding he'd rather not risk waking Calliope so close to his own tent he settled for a simple thumbs up, before stepping back inside out of the elements.
Aurora watched as the boy disappeared, walking a few strides in the direction she was supposed to be headed. But before she pulled the zipper of her tent, she stopped, taking a moment to simply breathe in the fresh air as the rain continued to fall around her. Just like the beach, there was something about the sound of water that soothed her mind. Letting her intrusive thoughts win, she tipped her chin upwards, the hood of Lorcán’s sweatshirt falling to her back as the droplets began to dampen her copper locks, curling the ends. With another deep inhale, she removed her hands from the hoodie and ran her fingers through her scalp. It was calming, refreshing, freeing.
With a slightly clearer head on her shoulders, she re-entered the tent, immediately greeted by the heat that seemed to radiate off of the boy as he slept. She peeled off his hoodie, draping it off the end of her cot to dry over the next few hours, and returned to tossing and turning once more.
He looked over at Calliope who had managed to keep sleeping peacefully, despite his dramatic awakening. Banjo ran his hands through his hair, and over his ears, before pinching the bridge of his nose with his forefingers and letting out a deep sigh.
Again. Tonight of all nights. Another bloody nightmare.
Banjo pushed his frustration and rising angst down, and decided the best place to let it go was outside of the tent. No need to ruin her sleep as well.
Carefully he slid around her, planting one foot on the floor and lifting himself over her, watching her whilst holding his breath until his other foot safely found the floor.
Banjo rustled through his belongings on the floor, making sure his cigarettes and lighter were in his shorts pocket, before pulling them on and quietly unzipping the tent’s flap, unveiling the night’s sky. Outside it was spitting and threatening to turn worse, but he needed the open air so he walked out into the brisk open air.
A few strides away, he popped a single durry from his packet of Winfield Blues, and holding it in his leeward side, lit up, with a hand sheltering it from the weather. Taking a first deep drag, his mouth twitched, and he sniffed in agitation.
That’d be bloody right. A night away from one of those daft big beds, a night where I can curl up with Calli, and the bloody nightmares come back so I still can’t get a proper sleep.
It was infuriating. Just when all was right with everything else. Things couldn’t just go smoothly.
He sat on the grass and hugged his legs whilst the dart hung from his lip.
And the worst thing was, there wasn’t anything he could do about them, or properly explain it to anybody else.
Aurora had let herself toss and turn for a while, hoping sleep would wash over her like the waves on the shoreline, but it wasn’t looking like rest would come to her easily tonight. Her mind was restless, a jumble of thoughts that she had attempted to unravel to no avail.
She sat up and looked over to the other side of the dimly lit tent, watching as Lorcán slept soundly. The redhead admired him quietly, studying each slope and curve of his upper body, memorizing the lines of his tattoos, his scars. She imagined what it would be like to fall asleep in his warm embrace, tucked underneath one of his strong arms.
Sure, it was a little bit creepy to stare at him like this. But in her defense, it was the only opportunity she had to do so without anyone questioning her. But as she looked at him, her thoughts drifted back to the moment they shared earlier. The things he said, the way he made her feel, the fire in his eyes she hadn’t seen before. It was confusing, she was confused. She was also scared. Oh, so scared.
Maybe some fresh air would do her some good.
Silently, Aurora slipped on her shoes before ducking out of the tent. There was a noticeable chill outside in comparison to the warmth inside, and she shivered as she felt the temperature shift, along with the small drops of rain that had started to fall. It might have been late Summer, but the nights on the island ran cold. Well, at least by her standards - she was an Arizona girl, after all.
Popping back inside, she spotted her bag on the far end of the space, but it’d be far too loud to rummage through her things to find her sweatshirt; she couldn’t risk waking Lorcán up. She glanced to his side of the tent and noticed his hoodie was within grasp, laying on top of his backpack. The redhead picked it up, attempting to not make any noise and headed back outside. She’d apologize later for stealing it but something told her he wasn’t going to mind that much.
She pulled the sweatshirt on, inhaling citrus and smoke as she covered her head with the hood. She was practically swimming in the oversized garment, but something about it made her feel secure, safe. Aurora began to walk away from the tent and towards the cliff’s edge, but movement out of the corner of her eye made her stop in her tracks. She turned, spotting Banjo crouched down on the grass, taking a drag from his cigarette.
Seems she wasn’t the only one who evaded sleep.
The redhead didn’t hesitate to make her way over and sat down next to him, wrapping her arms around her bent knees. “Just one of those nights, huh.”
“Mmm. Another one.” He replied. He looked over at her and caught sight of the red of Lorcán’s hoodie and smiled to himself as he turned away and took another drag.
Good. Looks like those two cleaned up whatever was on his plate. He thought to himself. Curling and uncurling his hands to hopefully stop the shaking and jitters.
He turned back once he was satisfied he’d straightened himself out enough.
“I’d offer ya one, but you can’t out-jump the big ‘C’.” He showed her, before pocketing the pack.
Aurora shook her head, “You know I don’t smoke, Banjo,” She noticed the way he had moved his fingers a moment prior, seemingly trying to lessen the physical reaction of whatever had gone on inside his head whilst he slept. Although he tried to hide it, the motion didn’t get past the redhead; she knew how bad thoughts could manifest physically. “Calli still sleeping?”
“I know… but it’s that weird thing where it’s rude to not offer ya one, but at the same time I know you wouldn’t want one, and nor should ya. I’ve got a lot of things where it’s just going through the motions.” His hands gestured from side to side, as if directed by the path of social niceties.
“You know me… Always on the frontline battlin’ rudeness, fightin’ for social decorum.” He chuckled to himself at the absurdity of his own statement.
“And yeah. That she is. I take it Matchstick is too?” He took another puff.
The redhead couldn’t help but laugh softly at the nickname he had given Lorcán. “Like a rock.” She answered, holding her palm out facing upwards, feeling the droplets of rain hit her skin one after the other. “I’ve been up all night, never even fell asleep in the first place.” She glanced back at the blonde, a small smile gracing her lips. “And here I was all worried I’d wake him up.”
“Ahh… so not the dreams y’self this time?”
He thought for a moment. So something had wound her up then. Or maybe he was too quick to assume they’d ironed everything out.
“I noticed he took it pretty bad at the Assembly thing earlier today. But that all got straightened out earlier, didn’t it? So what’s on your mind, because you seemed pretty down earlier on over grub? Wasn’t going to say anything, because you looked like you didn’t want attention drawn to it at the time.” He asked, deconstructing what he’d seen throughout the day.
Aurora sighed, letting the sides of her mouth fall downwards, her grin turning into a more neutral expression. “You saw that, did you?” Just as she was observant, so was he. Out of all of her friendships, the one that she and Banjo had felt more familial than anything. They supported each other like siblings, leaned on each other as few others understood their common denominators. “We had an… interesting day.” To boil down the events of the day to one adjective was a vast understatement, but she couldn’t bring herself to elaborate at that moment. Instead she raised an eyebrow curiously.
“Can I ask you something?” She didn’t give him the chance to answer, plowing forward with her question before she lost the nerve, “Were you… scared to let Calli in? How did you know you were ready for that after everything?” There weren’t many others she could be candid with when it came to the subject.
“Ahhh.” He said in recognition, rocking back and drawing a second dart from the pack, before stubbing the first into a blackened palm.
“Doesn’t apply, I’m afraid. She was everythin’ I already wanted, I was just too afraid to ask. Fortunately for me, I didn’t have to.” He reminisced back to this same plain five years earlier.
“But yeah… because I probably wouldn’t have. Between you and me, I thought there wasn’t much point and I’d never have a shot, til it just happened.” He lit up the second, before snapping the zippo shut, pocketing it.
“Everywhere I bounced around, all the foster places, boarding schools, and such. Well, boarding schools tend to be single sex, or at least segregated in some way, so I didn’t exactly have a whole lot of experience with the fairer sex before I got here, and I never really stayed put in any one place long in the few places which were co-ed. And I was new, weird and wild. Didn’t exactly draw a lot of attention in that way, not that I’m aware of.”
“So here, with Calli? That was pretty new. I’ve never really been afraid to be myself, but.” He said, taking a draw. “I mean… I can’t hide me forever, so what’s the point in tryin’? So no. I didn’t have much fear in lettin’ her in once it came to that. All of my fear was gone the second the door was open. If you catch my drift. And she did that for me.” He shrugged.
“I got incredibly lucky.” He said, adding another puff to accentuate.
The redhead watched as the smoke from Banjo’s cigarette curled, only slightly visible in the air as the raindrops fell. She nodded slowly as she made an effort to internalize everything he had just spoken. It wasn’t the answer she was anticipating, she hadn’t expected the boy to feel that way about it all. Kids like them didn’t plant roots, it was too challenging to see them be ripped up over and over again. But hearing the blonde’s sentiments seemed like a small sliver of hope, should she choose to go down that path. Still, the voice in the back of her head piped up, “And now? Are you afraid that you’ll lose her just like you did the others?”
Banjo stuck his tongue in his cheek considering the question. Thought about who was asking it and why.
“I think sometimes I’m helped by the fact I’ve got no memory of them at all. Abandonment issues and all.” He said.
“Harder to miss what I don’t remember ever havin’.”
“Doesn’t help with these fuckin’ nightmares though.” He said, poking at his own head with a few hard taps. “I’m damn near certain it’s from something back then, but the memories… that time’s swiss cheese.”
“It’s frustrating, I can get everythin’ bloody right in my life. Everything going perfect, and I mean PERFECT right now. And then this bullshit happens again. And I can’t do anything about it, because I don’t know what the Hell it’s about.” Anger had rushed back to the surface, and his hands trembled slightly with agitation.
“And they don’t even make any sense to anyone to be frightened about, when I try to explain ‘em! But I’m terrified in them. I think it’s because I was there, and knew what it meant– but now it’s all just… Space. Empty space and residual terror. Faaaarked.”
He stopped and realised he’d deviated too far from the question.
“Shit… sorry for the self pity party. Nah, short of bein’ worried she could do much better and ditching me, I’m not too scared of losin’ her. And with the way she’s been talkin’ lately, even that’s been seeming unlikely.” He smiled, at the thought of the woman in the tent.
“I put in the effort. She puts in the effort. That’s the magic to it. Simple trick. And always think of it as effort and not work. Work’s a begrudgin’ thing. Effort though… Effort’s just give-a-shit. Effort’s just energy, at least to me. And I can get that whenever I care enough.”
“I catch m'self lookin’ at, or listening to her sometimes and–”
He pulled the smoke from his mouth and turned and looked at it for a while. His mind a thousand miles away. Before he caught himself and took another drag, before continuing.
“Well, I just can't see ‘give-a-shit’ ever bein’ an issue.”
Aurora knew that was where their stories deviated. Where Banjo had no memories, she had plenty, too many, of her past. She was in agreement with him that it was easier when you couldn’t remember and didn't have to think about what you never knew. Clearly, it was an issue the redhead needed to tackle on her own. She empathized with his nightmares, however. She knew how debilitating they could be, how helpless they could make you feel, especially when everything else felt in your control.
“Don’t apologize,” She placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, “I get it, truly. Just because someone else might not find it terrifying doesn’t invalidate your fear. It’s not the situation itself, but how the situation makes you feel. Anything is scary if you believe it to be.” Aurora explained, “Doesn’t matter if it doesn’t make sense in the traditional way.”
A small smile returned to her face as he talked about Calli. He was so in love, and it was obvious. The redhead was happy for him, for them, and glad that they had found each other. But the same envy from earlier crept up, now accompanied by the weight of what had happened in the tent with Lorcán. She could be as happy as them, if she tried. But the questions she had asked didn’t seem to have clear answers. Turning the subject back to him instead of continuing on with her inquiries, she nudged him playfully with her arm. “Sounds like you’ll be buying a ring soon, Banj.”
He smiled to himself, internalising the question. His mind raced through a half dozen ‘Get Rich Quick’ schemes he could run to pull some cash for a ring together. The smile turned to a smirk, and he took another drag before answering.
“Quite possibly.”
The line of questions. She’d been beating around the bush looking for advice to hopefully be of some help with Lorcán, of which he’d been able to provide all too little. Maybe summary statements?
“I don’t really remember my parents at all, but everything else since then is still solid. A lot of pain, sure. But while I didn’t feel hurt by being dragged around, yanked away from every place I’d been very soon after we’d just got there. It’s mostly because I just got numb to it. For the most part, I didn’t get too close to the other kids, figuring I wouldn’t be around long. Found my own ways to entertain myself along the way.”
“Bein’ numb isn’t a good or permanent solution, ‘Raw. And even if it were, I suspect it’s too late for that anyway, in this case. Let me ask you something. Hypothetical: Say the Foundation up and decided to segregate the entire school by sex tomorrow. Picked all us blokes up and whisked us away, made us form new class teams, and oh… you’re in Myotis and he’s Canis. The New team lunchtimes are set at different times, and they brought in a strict curfew at close of school every day.”
“How would you feel?” He’d smoked the second durry down to the filter, and so stubbed it out once again in a black palm.
“Because unless I’m very much mistaken… that’s your answer right there.” He reached into his pocket and shook the remnants of his carton. Only three to go. He thought better of saving them and pocketed the pack.
Aurora’s face fell as Banjo presented the scenario, the “what ifs” of it all popping in her head. But, her eyebrows raised back up in a panic as he mentioned teams, not having indicated otherwise that the questions had any relation to a specific person. It seemed like everyone around her today was picking up clues that she was not intentionally putting down - first Harper, now Banjo. Not to mention, the words that Lorcán spoke continued to bounce around her mind, which wasn’t helping her train of thought.
How would she feel? Like a piece of her was missing.
The redhead exhaled audibly, shaking her head. So much doubt clouded her judgment, even though the answer seemed simple and straightforward. “Hypothetically,” She looked back towards her tent, where Lorcán lay sleeping, the only indication she was willing to provide without uttering the words out loud, “It would be… difficult.” The rain began to fall slightly heavier, more noticeable in the evening air. “I don’t want to be alone again, Banjo.”
“So, if you’re scared of bein’ hurt… and you’re already at a stage where it’d hurt…” The rain had picked up, matted his hair some, and was running down his shoulders and back.
“Seems to me, you’re already takin’ the risk without reapin’ all of the rewards.” He rocked back and forth with his arms around his knees.
“Like I said, there’s your answer.”
“But that’s just the lawyer in me. ‘Never make a point you’re not willin’ to belabour.’” He offered a warmer grin, getting to his feet.
“Now hold back, I’ve got to get this crap out me lungs.”
His breath quickened and halted, and his body turned blacker than the night’s sky around them. A much smaller corona surrounded him, due to the lack of available light, and his flesh re-knitted. His lungs and system cleaned itself out, and his synapses flared and sparked out all of the effects of the nicotine. He held a few seconds before reverting back to his usual appearance.
Rain droplets had supercooled from the effort and turned to frost on his shoulders. He smiled, as his thoughts once again returned to the woman in his tent.
Aurora sat with Banjo’s words, letting them reverberate while he used his abilities to effectively undo the damage of the cigarettes he had smoked. He had a point, she had already taken the risk by forming the connection in the first place, which only added to her conundrum. But how was she supposed to know that their innocent friendship would turn into something more? It was too late now to save herself apparently. She was going to get hurt either way.
The rain continued, thunder looming in the distance. The redhead looked to Banjo, inclining her head towards his tent. “You should try and go back to sleep. There may not be hope for me getting some rest, but that doesn’t mean you can’t.”
“I reckon I might.” He said, looking back at the tent. If nothing else, it had been good to puzzle himself over someone else’s business, rather than dwelling on what was between his own ears. He’d originally planned to come out and analyze what he’d heard from Alyssa on the Foundation, but this had worked too. Probably saved him some smokes too.
“You should probably head on in as well. Seems this is pickin’ up, but I’m betting it’s a damn sight warmer in your tent, than here. Yours comes with a space heater.” He stuck his tongue out.
“I’d feel bloody terrible if you wound up comin’ down with pneumonia or somethin’ as well, on my account.” He reached a hand out to help her to her feet. “So head in and see ya tomoz?”
The corners of Aurora’s lips curved upwards ever so slightly. “That's why I keep him around.” She joked as she stood, sticking her hands in her front pocket and looking up at the sky, “Hopefully this storm clears through before the morning.” The girl took a few steps towards her tent before hesitating and turning back to the blonde. “Hey, Banjo?” She called back to him, “Thank you.”
Banjo unzipped his tent, and hearing ‘Raw's thanks, raised his brow. He hadn't anticipated there being any more to say. Deciding he'd rather not risk waking Calliope so close to his own tent he settled for a simple thumbs up, before stepping back inside out of the elements.
Aurora watched as the boy disappeared, walking a few strides in the direction she was supposed to be headed. But before she pulled the zipper of her tent, she stopped, taking a moment to simply breathe in the fresh air as the rain continued to fall around her. Just like the beach, there was something about the sound of water that soothed her mind. Letting her intrusive thoughts win, she tipped her chin upwards, the hood of Lorcán’s sweatshirt falling to her back as the droplets began to dampen her copper locks, curling the ends. With another deep inhale, she removed her hands from the hoodie and ran her fingers through her scalp. It was calming, refreshing, freeing.
With a slightly clearer head on her shoulders, she re-entered the tent, immediately greeted by the heat that seemed to radiate off of the boy as he slept. She peeled off his hoodie, draping it off the end of her cot to dry over the next few hours, and returned to tossing and turning once more.