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

[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."

[fishandclips]

"That's what I thought. Our mental health is clearly doomed."

[adaptiveimmunities]

"Well, yours is. I've had therapy." He grins at him.

[Cute.]