Another Arrival

[adaptiveimmunities]

Shaun hadn't been dreaming. He prefers it when he doesn't dream, because he doesn't usually get the good dreams anymore, and when he wakes it's in utter shock at the intense cold. He'd fallen asleep on a rooftop in Oakland in April. Sure, he's wearing a jacket, but it's not exactly a heavy winter coat. Shaun has never seen a winter like this. Where the hell is he? Antarctica?

"What the fuck?"

He doesn't expect an answer as he wraps his arms around himself looking for shelter. There's a ship. An olde time sailing ship, which is as bizarre to him as anything else in this insane scene, but it looks warm, which is all he cares about right now. He makes his way toward the open ramp.

[What the hell is going on here?]

"Fuck if I know," he mutters.

[This is what I get for letting you sleep.]

It should be funny, but it's not. This can't be a dream. Dreams don't get this cold. But who would bother kidnapping him to a movie set in the Antarctic?

Comments

[adaptiveimmunities]

Shaun finishes it for him. "We're time bombs. You and me. Any time we get a scrape or a scratch, we're putting everyone else at risk of amplifying. Do you think that guy Jopson eve knows what a zombie is? I bet he doesn't."

[fishandclips]

Mahir gives a rough laugh, shaking his head. “If he is actually from 1847, no. No, I’m sure he doesn’t. Zombies didn’t enter pop culture until the twentieth century.” He looks at Shaun again, meeting his eyes. “I have a hard time believing that anyone would risk their lives like this, even for historical accuracy but I can’t figure out what else might be happening here.”

[adaptiveimmunities]

"Even people who like to live off the grid aren't so crazy that they pretend that Kellis-Amberlee doesn't exist," he points out. "I'm not saying that's a guarantee that this is time travel, but it's at least a factor here." He can hear George muttering indistinctly and irritably at the back of his mind, but at least he doesn't have to have another argument with himself. "So--what. Pretend that this is ancient history until we learn otherwise? Be really careful?"

[fishandclips]

Mahir nods slowly. "I think we have to. If not for everyone else, then for ourselves and our own safety. I'm not sure... I don't know how much we should tell people. But I don't want to start an outbreak, either."

[adaptiveimmunities]

"I'm a little worried that no one is going to believe us," he admits. "I mean, the Rising was as bad as it was in part because people couldn't imagine that it was really happening."

[fishandclips]

Mahir nods, expression grim. "Yes. That's occurred to me." He pauses and grimaces. "As well as the idea that they might look at us as a threat, and decide we aren't worth keeping aboard. Or worse."

They don't know these people yet. As a Newsie, Mahie is all about disseminating information and making sure people have the knowledge they need. The idea of not offering full disclosure makes him uncomfortable... But he also values their safety. It's a fine line to walk.

[adaptiveimmunities]

"Ooh, pitchforks," Shaun says, visibly brightening. "You know, I haven't actually been run out of town before. Might be fun."

[Stop being a moron.]

He rolls his eyes. "Fine." He raises an eyebrow at Mahir. "Do you think it would come to that?"

[fishandclips]

Mahir can't help himself; maybe it's the stress, or the exhaustion, or god knows what, but for some reason Shaun's reaction makes him laugh. He should be exasperated and annoyed, but god is he grateful not to alone in this situation.

Even if it is Shaun he's alone with, and he is very well aware that Shaun's sanity is questionable at best; despite all of that, Shaun is the one person he knows and trusts more than anyone, possibly even more than Magdelene.

"I fucking hope not," he says once he composes himself. "Or if it does, I hope we can manage to get ourselves some guns or something beforehand." He looks up to Shaun, sobering, and points to his own head. "You're going to have to be more careful, Shaun."

[adaptiveimmunities]

"Or at least a set of our own pitchforks and torches for self defense," he agrees. He's grateful to have Mahir here, too. They weren't particular friends before George died, though they had worked together well enough when necessary. Since, then... Well, there's a reason that Mahir is basically in charge of the site. There's no one alive he trusts more.

And so, instead of arguing or turning the conversation into another joke, he just nods at Mahir's warning. "Yeah. I know." He gives him a wry smile. "I've been pretty lucky. The only people I'm in contact with regularly know what's going on with this." he motions to his own head before dropping his hands again. "I don't have to explain myself anymore. I don't think people around here are going to be quite as forgiving." He hasn't read 19th century literature since his English class--not his speed--but he remembers enough that madness wasn't well tolerated.

[fishandclips]

Mahir gives him another little smile, and says dryly, "If we escape a mob for being potential Patient Zeroes, we may yet face one for Georgia's sake."

The idea that he could--or would--leave Shaun to face a mob on his own for his mental instability did not even occur to him. If it had, he wouldn't have entertained the thought anyway; he would just be angry with himself for thinking it.

Maybe speaking of Shaun's problem as if it really is Georgia's voice he's hearing is not the best move, but he's tried ignoring it and he's tried talking logic, and nothing has worked; if anything, arguing with Shaun about the voice in his head has only made things worse. He's sticking with the method that keeps Shaun speaking to him.

[adaptiveimmunities]

"I think it's less likely to be a mob than one of those cozy jackets. You know, with the sleeves that wrap all the way around the back." He shrugs a little. He knows he's not well. He hasn't been since Georgia died. He doesn't think he's dangerous to anyone but the people responsible for her death, but there's no reason anyone should believe him.

[fishandclips]

Mahir chuckles. "Oh, those jackets? Maybe we should go full disclosure, in that case. You certainly would be limited in the trouble you could cause, in one of those."

[adaptiveimmunities]

Shaun rolls his eyes at that, but he's grinning back. "Why, Mahir, it sounds like you've been thinking about this for a while. How long have you been dying to get your hands on one?"

[fishandclips]

"Only since the moment we met," Mahir quips easily. It's comfortable, falling back into a pattern of insults with Shaun. They're in what is, by all accounts, an impossible situation and have no idea what's going to happen next. But Mahir is glad to have Shaun here with him.

In fact... "I am glad you're here," he says quietly.

[adaptiveimmunities]

Shaun is ready to continue swapping insults with Mahir, but his next words throw him for a loop, and he pauses before replying. He doesn't really consider himself someone people would be glad to have with them--especially not these days. He knows just how volatile and unstable he is.

"Same," he says finally. "Though I sort of wish one of us was a historian right now. Professional Idiot and Professional Blogger don't seem like the most useful things in the world at the moment."

[fishandclips]

Mahir smiles at that, and inclines his head in a nod. "At least neither of us are fictionals. And if you tell Magdelene I said that, I will deny it and she will believe me."

[adaptiveimmunities]

He snorts. "Of course she would. She's always liked you better." There are good reasons for that. Mahir is more polite. Mahir is inherently more likable. Mahir has never punched her sort-of boyfriend.

[fishandclips]

Mahir chuckles; he doesn't say that he thinks Maggie would like Shaun more if he and Georgia hadn't always been such an insular unit. He knows better.

He also knows all too well what losing his sister had done to him.

"I'm not sure if it's me she likes better, or my mother's care packages."

[adaptiveimmunities]

"We all like your mom's care packages best," Shaun says, smirking a little at him. "Sorry. Biscuits trump newsie every time."

[fishandclips]

Mahir laughs and inclines his head in a nod. "Touche. I prefer Mum's biscuits to myself most of the time."

[adaptiveimmunities]

He grins back at him. "Well, see, now you made me feel bad. Do we need to work on your self-esteem, Mahir? Do you need a hug?"

[fishandclips]

He waves him off, making a face. "Shaun, you've had my mother's baking after it's been shipped overseas and across a continent. Imagine what it's like fresh from the oven. No one's self-esteem is good enough to survive a comparison to that."

[adaptiveimmunities]

"...Okay, I like myself less than your mom's baking now. Which officially means we both need therapy." Therapy Shaun has no intention of getting. "As soon as we get home I'm gonna call you a shrink. I have a list."

[fishandclips]

"...But are there any on that list that you haven't punched or sent to their own therapists?"

[adaptiveimmunities]

He considers that for a long moment. "...Huh. Now that you mention it... no."