outer_divide | [Open

Entry tags:

[Open - video]

[Daniel looks tired, dirty, and a little haggard, but otherwise seems fine.]

Hey. Sorry I've been out of the loop for a bit, I was off in the woods.

[...technically true.]

Anyway, I'm around again, and I should be in the city for the a while. Let me know if you need anything.

[Private to Claire]

Hey, did you make it out alright?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Okay.

[It's mild, unoffended. Perhaps when Charles is more ragged he'll push, but not quite yet.]

There is just one thing I'd like to know, about your war. Is it okay if I ask?

[A single, tight nod.]

I don't need details, just. Just the number.

How many of us died, in the shoah, in your world?

No one's ever had an accurate count, but they tend to pin it at -- well, at more than four million.

[ Unimaginably huge numbers, and Charles swallows, sharp nausea rising. He isn't even remembering anything in particular, is devoted to not thinking about the things he saw, and yet even the vague association makes him ill. ]

[He makes a small sound in his throat, a crushed sound, a whimper. He drags in a slow breath.]

Without you, it was six. Six of ours, and twelve total.

[Charles' jaw goes slack. His mind, blank.

The words simply don't process, for a long moment. Six. Six.]

Then... it was for a purpose.

[It wasn't all for nothing.]

[His hands are shaking, and he slips into Yiddish, the language of childhood and fear and Tateh's hand on his. In hurts in ways that don't have names, to hear it so baldly confirmed, how many could have been saved, if anyone cared to come for them.]

It was. It was.

[He manages to grab Charles's hands in his, squeezes them tightly, voice hoarse, but he meets Charles's eyes.]

What you did for those people was a true mitzvah. Never forget that. Never.

[He means it in the intimate and philosophical sense, both less and more than a simple commandment, a work of righteousness and compassion that is holy in itself.]

[Two million.

Two million.]

I had no idea, I didn't know, I -- if I had, I would have fought a hundred times harder --

[Because back then he'd been fighting for England, he'd been fighting to save his country. He hadn't even known what was happening in Germany, beyond rumors, hints and secrets lifted from the minds of soldiers.]

No one knew.

[His grip on Charles's hands is tight enough to hurt, his voice still rasping as he tries to control his emotions.]

No one - you came. That's what matters.

It was worth every -- [And his mind casts the concept he has no word for: every moment of pain, every tiny hurt. Worth the scars that have left him half a person. Worth it, and the sheer magnitude of that thought means tears run freely from Charles' eyes and his nose runs a bit too and he kisses the back of Israel's hand, as though that could covey even a modicum of what he's feeling.]

[He leans in, rests their foreheads against each other, and he wants to wrap his arms around Charles again but Israel's fingers refuse to let go of his hands.]

Yes, you, there's, somewhere -

[Somewhere there is a generation of children he never knew, with parents and hopes and lives because of Charles. In Israel's mind, they are laughing. They have struggles and dangers and losses of their own, no doubt, but he imagines their laughter anyway.]

[Charles breaks.

He presses his face into the crook of Israel's neck and cries. All the unshed tears from a thousand thousand dead, from a childhood broken and ruined and burned. Worth it. Charles has suddenly crossed from failure, from slaughterer to hero.

It is too much for him to cope with. It is too large to fit in his mind, or in his heart.

If Israel doesn't stop him, he'll cry until he's exhausted, until he's on the edge of sleep.]

[Israel doesn't stop him. He holds him tight, presses his face against Charles's hair and shakes because he cannot cry, rocking him and hugging him close for as long as Charles needs.]

[Such an incredible shock to the system. Something deep, something life-changing, and his mind utterly refuses to process it.

So his defensive solution is sleep, his emotions wringing him into exhaustion.]

[When Charles is asleep, Daniel carries him the pallet of blankets in the corner, rests curled around him, with his eyes on the door, clinging to the warm shift of Charles's breath as he starts to process what he's learned.]

[It's not long; a few hours, only, until his nightmares wake him up and he twitches back to consciousness.

The strange thing is that he relaxes on feeling Israel's presence by him. Goes limp in relief, his heartbeat slowing from racing in fear.]

[He strokes Charles's hair softly.]

Shhh. You're alright.

[Not you're safe, because Israel tries not to make promises he might not be able to keep. But right now, they're okay.]

[Tears flow again, but it's the quiet, sweet sort this time. Two million.]

In the next war, the one for Israel, once, I fought in Syria...

[Halting tones, speaking slow, with the half-dream-slur of the newly awakened.]

We were in Damascus, and the decision was made to test a telepathic enhancement device. -- You don't understand, I've hated myself -- It was an accident, but I still -- they burst in the doors, and they had guns, and I just thought stop and I stopped everything. Everything in miles.

Thousands of people, I... I thought i would never even the scales. Do you understand?

[Cracked voice, and he turns, to face Israel, shifts around.]

I thought I would never...

[And to think that he already had.]

I understand.

[It's sort of a lie. Nations - with the ever-fascinating exception of Germany - aren't really capable of true self-loathing. But it makes sense, in an intellectual way.]

You have done great things, achi. And perhaps also a terrible one, but that does not make you terrible.

[Charles closes his eyes. It's dark now, and he thinks of gas lamps and flickering lights in the old, creaky mansion.]

Maybe someday I'll believe that.

[He means it, this time. He's never really thought redemption was possible. And this is a little dawning, a crack of light over the horizon.]

[Daniel hugs him gently around the middle, murmurs,]

Continents move slowly.

[Because - yes. That kind of fundamental shift, the staggering difficulty of accepting it, that he understands.]

[He wonders if this is what it's like having a lover. The easy acceptance of physical contact, without the constant focus on hold back, hold back, don't read. He wants to relax and drift in Israel's embrace, without thinking, which is a truly tectonic shift from his usual attitude, and it all happened so fast.

The attraction isn't sexual, though. He's only felt that sort of desire as a tentative, prickling thing; this is as different from that as a stream is to the Atlantic. Like watching trickling water against seeing the stretch of gray-green-blue all the way to the horizon.

He lets out a long breath and reluctantly, slowly pulls free.]

Thank you.

You're always welcome.

[It's the way of history, slow grinding processions that can be shattered and steamrolled overnight, when events and truth and power come together just so, and then the world is different.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Open - video]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]